#all i ever wanted was a life in your shape so i follow the white lines and keep the eyes on the road as i ache...... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

studioghibelli · 5 months

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always yours- a joel miller x reader

summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.

warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni

The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.

Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.

“What’re you up to back there?”

“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”

A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.

“Want to hear some more?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”

Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”

“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”

Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.

“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”

“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”

Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.

Joel sucked in a thick breath.

You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.

He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?

“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”

“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”

“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”

It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.

“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Heyyyy!”

Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”

“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”

Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.

In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.

He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.

Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”

“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”

“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”

“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”

Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:

“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”

“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”

“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”

Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”

Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”

“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”

“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”

“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”

Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”

Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?

How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?

“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.

“Um…” He scratched at his chin.

“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”

Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.

He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.

“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”

“Animal Planet?”

And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”

“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”

“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.

A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.

Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.

“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”

“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”

“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”

“I said one question a day.”

“But-”

“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”

“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”

Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.

Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.

Angry, regretful, bitter tears.

“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”

“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”

“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”

“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.

“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”

Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”

That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.

Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.

“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.

“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”

“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”

“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.

“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”

“Go to sleep, Ellie.”

Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.

In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?

But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.

Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.

Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.

“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”

Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,

Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,

And I am once again with you, when our love was new.

“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.

He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”

“Dance with me.”

“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”

Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.

“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”

He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.

And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,

Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,

You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain…

“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.

His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”

“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.

Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.

Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.

He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.

“Joel…” You whispered softly.

He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.

“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do you not like me?”

“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.

“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.

In my heart, it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love’s refrain.

Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.

“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.

“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”

“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.

“How long was I out for?”

Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”

“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”

Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.

“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”

An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.

“What is that?” She asked.

“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.

“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”

“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”

“Who’s it by?”

“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.

“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”

“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.

“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.

But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.

“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.

“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”

Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.

“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.

“‘Bout three years before I met you.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.

“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.

Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?

“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.

Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.

“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.

“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.

You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.

Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.

“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”

When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.

When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.

As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.

It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.

The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.

Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.

• • •

It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.

Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.

Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.

Your thoughts were full of Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.

Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.

After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.

By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.

“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.

The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.

The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.

“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.

Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.

You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.

You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.

No, by someone.

Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.

A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.

Joel.

Joel. Joel.

The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.

Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.

You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.

Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.

Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.

Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.

“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.

“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”

“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”

“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.

“How long have you been here?”

“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.

His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.

Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.

He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.

You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”

And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.

You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.

You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.

That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?

But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.

“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.

“Yes?”

“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”

Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.

The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.

He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.

He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.

You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.

“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.

When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.

You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.

He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.

You had always liked your men older, anyways.

Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.

“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.

“For you.” You whispered with finality.

He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.

“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”

You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.

And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.

You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.

“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.

“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”

Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.

Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”

“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.

Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.

“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.

“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.

“We’ll see about that.”

Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.

“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.

Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.

You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.

You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.

“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”

Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.

“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.

“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”

“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.

“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.

“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.

You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”

Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.

You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.

“Christ, Joel.”

He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.

“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.

“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:

With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.

“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.

You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.

“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”

You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.

He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.

You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.

“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.

“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.

“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”

That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.

You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.

“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.

Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.

When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.

You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.

His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.

“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”

“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.

“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.

“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.

You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”

Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”

A moment of silence fell over your bodies.

“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”

“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”

“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”

3K notes · View notes

von2dutch · 2 months

Text

Sugar Baby | Jey Uso

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 3.1k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY

A/N This is my first time writing on here so bear with me I’m new to learning the app I hope you all enjoy it it’s also my first time writing a Jey uso fanfic so please go easy on me. A few writers inspired me to want to write about him I’m not sure if they want to be tagged I don’t want to seem disrespectful but if they do I’ll gladly @ them!

Series master list

Lastly , Enjoy

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Dakota groaned in discomfort, "Ugh, jeez, I'm so sore, I can barely stand..." Jasmine chuckled in agreement, "Haha, I know right? I didn't expect that workout to be so intense.

“Me neither, my whole body is killing me right now…girl remind me to never come to the gym with your ass!” Dakota Murmured in a low breathing trying to regain her breath, her hands kneeled down on her knees taking each breath one at a time. Before standing tall grabbing her water to follow jasmine lead to the front desk.

“girl please all that ass you got you should want to be in shape for your old man sugar daddy.”

Dakota stopped in her tracks staring a hole into her best friend of 6 years in the head, with a mug plastered over her face she spoke again “Omg for the last time that man isn’t that old and he ain’t my sugar daddy!”

Jasmine looked back pursuing her lips together looking at her best friend like she was dumb “whatever you say ms.like em’ old.”

“But ion blame you because last time you came to me with your wig completely fucked up after seeing him, fuck he got super dick?”

Dakota chuckled at her best friends antics seemingly use to it but without jasmine in her life she wouldn’t have any entertainment without her silly jokes.

“No he just knows how to work this thang!” Dakota laughed before sticking her tongue out as the two walked up to the front desk.

While Dakota was focused on making another week ahead for the gym next week, Jasmine eyes were stuck on whoever just walked into the gym.

Jasmine Nuged Dakota shoulder before she turned around with a mug irritated already by her bothering her with Dakota already being tired and trained from an intense workout the two just had “Ain’t that your boy or should I say ol’ man.”

Dakota knitted her eyebrows together in confusion and also curiosity as she turned her body and attention to wherever jasmine focused was and there he was.

Jey Uso

In the flesh there he was looking ever so good , his presence so commanding and charismatic that she couldn't help but admire him with his twin brother Jimmy and a little behind them was their younger brother solo, walking. As they approached a group of men, it looked as if they beckoned them over with friendly gestures.

As Dakota glanced over at Joshua, she couldn't help but take notice of his impressive attire. He was sporting a pair of blue Nike shorts that hugged his body in all the right places, along with black Nike socks that were neatly tucked into his white gym shoes. On his head, he wore a fitted black bloodline hat, which was turned backwards and allowed his mullet to peek through the back. The red tips of his hair added a touch of boldness to his overall look, which suited him perfectly. As he stood there with his bare chest on display, his chiseled abs were impossible to miss. Tribal tattoos adorned his arms and chest, with two more visible on his back. All in all, Joshua's appearance was a sight to behold.

She watched as he greeted the three men before grasping both hands onto a pull up bar his palms facing away from him lifting his entire body going up and down up and down as she watched closely.

She couldn’t help but to stare at his bare back moving ever so smoothly, he hung his body up back and forth downwards she got a flashback from their last meet up two months ago which made her bite her lip titling her head slightly watching as he kept going.

Flashback

“Move yo hand this what you wanted right?” Jey responded to Dakota as she pleaded for him to slow down she tried to push him back away from her as he dicked her down so deep she could Hardly breathe.

she burried her head into the white colored sheets of the hotel room she couldn’t help but cry tears of joy but also pain as his strokes got deeper and deeper from behind “Jeyyyy…b-baby slow down…ugh.”

“Nah you talked all that shit on the phone, I wanna see you take all this dick don’t run from it.”

“Ion even know why you like to play with me princess, you know I’ll fly yo’ ass out to fuck you up.” Joshua spoke with Venom in his voice as his chest heaved up and down, chest beaming with sweat. he pushed a hand down on her neck to pin her down further her ass purked up nicely in his view.

It all started with Dakota missing him which resulted in her being a bitch towards Jey, calling him out his name as far as a “bitch” because he hadn’t been paying her no attention at all the past few weeks. She knew he had a tight schedule as a professional wrestler which has his undefined attention at all times but she also wanted his attention as well even with her just being a sugar baby known as a woman he just used for sex and entertainment when he wanted it.

Now here she was ass up face down and burried into the white sheets of his hotel room as he fucked her viciously from behind pining her down to the bed so she couldn’t run with no where to go. He wanted her to feel all of him from anger slightly misplaced with lust.

“Nah baby use this dick and fuck me back , daddy ain’t going no where.”

Dakota did as told throwing her ass back on him but with much more force while she occupied her fingers underneath her playing with herself. She felt so much pressure and pain all in one her feet became hot with them curled up as he went deeper with each stroke he took.

Taking her breath away literally.

“Mhm you taking this dick like a good girl huh?” Jey rasped slamming into her making Dakota let out a loud moan.

She could feel her body become hot as she felt a knot in her stomach indicating she was about to cum.

“shit!” She cursed under her breath, Jey thrusting into her wet gushy insides.

Joshua watched his dick slide in and out Dakota’s hole, her white creams painting his beautiful Carmel dick, his balls slapping against her clit with every hard thrust he took.

Dakota let out beautiful whimpers, her ass and titties jiggling with the rhythm of Jey’s hard strokes.

Jey grabbed Dakota’s hair, wrapping it around his fist as he thrusted into her harder.

Josh pulled on her hair, forcing her head up as she looked at herself through a the mirror which was in the corner of the room. Her make up smeared with tears , hair all over the place she knew she would need a redo on her hair when she got back home to Atlanta. Her mouth agape as she let out loud moans which couldn’t be heard outside of the hotel room from how thick and sound proof the walls were.

“Uh huh, daddy deep in his pussy ain’t he?” he questioned panting, his tattooed chest heaving up and down.

when Dakota didn’t answer Jey yanked her hair making Dakota let out a loud moan.

“shit! Y-yes daddy it’s fucking deep!” she cried out as tears cascaded her pretty Carmel cheeks.

Jey smiled deviously at her through the mirror, sliver jeweled grills peaking through. feeling her walls clench around him he groaned. he sent a hard snack to Dakota’s ass, “you throwing that ass back like a big girl , baby? You gon’ keep taking this dick like one too.”

Dakota did as told, her taking control again as she bounced back and forth on his length, Joshua bit his lip watching his dick disappear into her whole every time.

The one thing he missed the most was her ass jiggling from behind as he buried his dick deep inside her, her smooth toned back arched ever so slight but at the moment her chest laid flat on the bed while he continued his torture.

“fuck!” Dakota moaned with her face planted in the bed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she continued rocking her body.

“Un huh, Baby take this dick.”

“you gotta cum, ma?” Jey questioned, grunting afterwards.

“yes!” Dakota whined reaching her hand underneath her and rubbing at her clit once more, her legs trembling outrageously.

Jey bit his lip harshly, blood drawing as he groaned at the metallic taste.

“gon head Dakota .” He rasped, on cue Dakota and Joshua reached their limits. Her white creams painted all over his dick, her juices squirted out of her and onto Jey’s lower stomach.

Flashback over

“Dakota!” Jasmine's voice echoed through Dakota’s empty ears as she called out to her best friend Dakota, who seemed lost in thought. "Dakota! Dakota, Dakota?!!" she repeated, her tone growing more urgent and annoyed with each call. She wondered what could be occupying Dakota's mind so much that she didn't even hear her friend's voice.

Then it hit her. Jey he was who had her so snapped out of it she watched her best friend bite her lip in daze a, watching him do repeated pull ups.

Finally After staring into the distance for a while, Dakota was brought back to reality when she heard someone calling her name. With a confused look on her face, she looked up and stuttered, "H-huh, what did you say, Jas?"

“I said there go ya’ boy and there he is right now making his way over.” Jasmine said as he indeed was making his way over to them while Dakota mouth hung low she tried her to best to maintain herself. She often felt nervous around Josh and she herself didn’t know why because she wasn’t a shy woman but with him? He had her shy like a school girl.

“Wassup jasmine.” Jey greeted Jasmine with a friendly head nod and a warm smile, before turning his attention to Dakota. With a mischievous grin and a wink “and hey pretty mama.”

With a mischievous grin, he knew exactly what to say to make her radiant smile light up the room. As he gazed at her, he couldn't help but notice the intricate details of her gym outfit, appreciating the way it hugged her curves and highlighted her strong physique.

She wore Black gymshark vital seamless neck sports bra with vital seamless black shorts that hugged her body waist down ever so gently which showed her ass out more flaw. Her breast glazed with sweat as it stucked together almost peeling out of the sports bra her nipples hard as ever from how cold the gym was. Accompanied with white socks and grey gym shoes.

She looked damn good.

“Hey Josh.” She smiled dimples ever so deep into her skin that her pearly white teeth showed all of her teeth from how big she smiled. Gushing with butterflies in her stomach if she was any lighter you could see how red her face was from blushing.

“Hey Josh.” Jasmine mumbled mimicking her with an eye roll immensely laughing at how shy her best friend was. In 27 years of knowing her she never saw her best friend so shy she was always a Fierce Woman, very outspoken. So to see her like this so gushed over this man was surprising and undoubtedly hilarious.

“Shut up.” Dakota mumbled gritting through her teeth while she tried to keep a smile on her face.

To break the awkward silence Josh spoke “Uhh so you leaving?”

“Oh yeah me and jasmine are finished for the day and go grab some food then head home and shower. I see you’re with your brother.”

“Yeah he wanted to come to the gym before the big night Monday.”

“Well it was nice seeing yo— nah we ain’t gon end it like that ma gimme me a hug uce.” Josh insisted opening his arms for a hug she embraced him her hands rubbing against his bare back.

His entire body felt so soft and warm along with his significant cologne he always wore that drove her crazy with how good he smelled.

Josh hands snaked down to her ass grabbing it gently with a soft smack before leaving a wet kiss on her neck before whispering. “You might wanna cover that up uce.” He chuckled at her eyes bucking at the embarrassment she felt when she realized he was referring to the hickey on her neck that her gave her last month.

Gasping she quickly covered it with her hand before grabbing Jasmines hand leading her out the door “Bye Josh!”

“Girllll that man got you whipped huh!” Jasmine joked laughing at how school girl he had Dakota before unlocking the doors to her Mercedes Benz truck both hopping in.

“Whatever.”

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• Instagram story

Dakota.Valentine • 25 secs ago

“Bye Josh.” Dakota chuckled at a TikTok he sent her via message, before hearting it smiling ear from ear. It was a TikTok of a man buying his girlfriend chicken wings when she asked for wings as in pads for her menstrual cycle but he got her wingstop with jey replying with a “Gon be me when you come back over my house, yeet!”

“Oh you in love.” Jasmine affirmed looking at her best friend blush at her phone something she did their whole lunch.

“I am not!”

“Is too!”

Dakota fixed her posture in her seat now facing jasmine directly placing her phone face down on the table giving her undefined attention “and what makes you possible think that?”

“Hmm well for starters the man bough you a mirror vanity with a Chanel purse and a basket of fruit all because you said you wanted to show yourself this year and do beauty content for social media.”

“Then he buys you roses every month even if he misses a few days he buys dozens for each day he missed along with a stack of money, he as well spoils you with gifts, paid for you to go to talum for your birthday, bought you a ring and also rented out a mall for the both of you so you could shop dedicating the whole day to you with a massage, paid for your hair , nails, AND makes sure you eat paying for every meal plus he took you on how many dates?”

“Shall I go on?”

Dakota sat there taking in everything her best friend was saying with nothing to deflect with, she was right Joshua did all those things without her having to asking for anything he just did it because whatever he saw that he thought would look good on her or what made her smile the biggest he got it.

“Then you cook for him everytime he’s in town for his Monday night raw and smack down shows in Atl kota.” Jasmine stated pursing her lips together while she waited for a response. Dakota sat there with a dumbfounded expression.

Thats when realization sat in she realized she was in love, he did so many things for her that she never had done before not even in past relationship. He was there for her in so many ways than just sex, he was there emotionally, physically , and mentally. He cared deeply for Dakota as much as she cared for him. They’ve Had deep conversations about life and marriage something neither ever done with anyone they connected on a deeper level than Just sex he was there for her when she lost her mother a few months back and ever since then he never left her side he was always there.

Despite his best efforts to hide it, Joshua was undeniably smitten with Dakota. Though he was a more mature and experienced man, he couldn't help but pour his heart out to her, showering her with a level of affection she had never before experienced in her life. His love for her was pure and genuine, and she could sense it in every little thing he did.

Despite her best efforts to be difficult and toxic, he always handled her with care and honesty. He was the type of man who never played games, especially when it came to business. He led with authority, yet he had a soft and gentle side. He was dominant without being aggressive but real smooth but you knew he ran shit. His charismatic and funny personality, his loving nature, and his hardworking aura made her focus on him completely. Whenever she was around him, she felt safe and comfortable, knowing that he would always be there to protect and support her.

In past relationships Dakota had never felt safe nor comfortable with men but with Josh it all felt so natural.

The two meet at a bar in Pensacola , Florida where Dakota was in town visiting a client of hers for styling. She was a celebrity stylist, she loved fashion and always dreamed of being a fashion designer or stylist. While she sat at the bar alone josh couldn’t help but stare at the young women, her soft brown legs shined with baby oil along with a black dress that hugged her body so tightly and well , a face a man would die for but he thought her face was better to nut on in his dirty mind.

He walked up to her with a few smooth and flirtatious words which pulled her in instantly jey was always smooth with the ladies. A ladies man of course. With that he prospered to her a deal that he spoiled her of course as well as have sex with her but no string attached as well kinda friends with benefits or a sugar daddy which he wouldn’t call it more so tricking with sex alongside.

Jey was 32 years old and Dakota was four years younger than him at 27. Despite the age difference, the two were still deeply attracted to each other. However, when Dakota was first presented with the proposal that she didn't quite understand or want to accept, she hesitated. The idea of doing something like that was foreign to her, but a little voice in her head, which she recognized as Jasmine's, urged her to "get that money, bitch!" Despite already having her own source of income, Dakota eventually agreed to the proposal.

Starting from the summer of July 2022, the two individuals became inseparable. Their bond grew stronger as they spent time together, and before they knew it, January 2023 had arrived, marking the beginning of a new year that they brought in together. Despite the initial plan to spend only three months together, Josh kept extending their time together, much to the surprise of his companion. She found it odd that he was reluctant to part ways and kept prolonging their time together, but she couldn't help but wonder why.

Was he also in love?

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All I really want to say my darling

Today is a special day we call our own

So take me in your arms and hold me

And tell me you love me

And I'll be there for you

The soft lyrics of Tony! Toni! Tone! Played throughout Dakotas high rise apartment while she finished up on the last touch’s of the cornbread. Dakota was cooking baked macaroni, yams, collard greens, fire chicken with a side of duffeled eggs.

A loud thud on the counter went off as her phone ding with a text message from Jey.

iMessage

Yeet master jey!❤️

I’m here come open the door lady uce!

After meticulously washing her hands, she swiftly dried them off to ensure there were no traces of germs left on her skin. As she reached the door, she saw Josh standing outside, holding a beautiful bouquet of roses in his left hand. A wide smile appeared on her face as she approached him, and he opened his arms, inviting her in for a warm embrace. "Jey, I missed you!" she exclaimed before jumping into his arms. He caught her effortlessly with just one arm, and the two of them burst into uncontrollable laughter, filled with joy and happiness as they held each other tightly.

“I missed you too ko.” Dakota heart warmed at the small nickname he gave her.

“Aww are these for me?” She smiled widely taking the rose from jey she walked towards the kitchen sitting them on the counter. “Of course gotta get my princess something.”

Cheesing to herself she inquired him with a question “Mmhm when were you going to tell me you was in town?”

“Well I was tryna surprise you but I saw you all at the gym looking gorgeous.” He stated wrapping his arms around Dakota from behind he moved her hair out her face leaving a few wet on her neck she responded with a low moan.

“Unt unt let me finish cooking Josh.” She chuckled at his antics of trying to seduce her but she had other plans in mind.

Stepping back with his hands in surrender he spoke “alright alright but how you been? You’ve been eating?” He caressed her cheek staring into her brown hazel nut eyes. “Yes jey I have.”

“You better.” He pecked her lips a few times before moving back looking over her admiring her body.

Dakota has fell into small depression she thought maybe she was too big and wanted to be slimmer so she stopped eating to lose weight and also in the gym but Jey put a stop to that immediately because she was perfect the way she was and she wouldn’t want her any other way.

“I missed you.” Jey spoke with their soft eyes looking directly At Dakota.

“I missed you more.” She responded softly turning her body to face him.

“Missed you so much girl.” He embraced her into a hug, hugging tight as he wrapped his legs around her like spider man hanging his feet in the cabinet while she laughed at his goofy self “It’s all you girl!”

“All you girl!”

“Omg Joshua what is wrong with you.” Dakota laughed once more her stomach hurting from much she laughed her cheeks sore a bit from how hard she smiled. She was in love.

Letting her go he left a few kisses all over her face till she laughed Again before asking her something “So umm…I got a show tomorrow and I want you come.” He asked shyly as if it was the first time he ever took her one of his shows to watch him to wrestle.

“Of course! I’d love to watch you beat some ass.” She smiled punching at his chest playfully.

“Good cause Jimmy been asking about you “where koko?”josh mimicked his twin brother Jonathan earring a small laugh from Dakota.

“Aww my good ol’ friend can’t wait to see him tomorrow.”

“Plus tomorrow is raw XXX tomorrow you know it’s gon be lit.” Smiles thinking about what was in store tomorrow for the fans which included the bloodline with Sami Zayn.

“Oh tell your little girlfriend stop messaging me I’ll hate to beat a bitch.” Dakota scolded Josh rolling her eyes.

Who?

“You know who”

As jey stood there in thought as if he was dumb he then realized who she was talking about “oh Chanel?” He said still acting clueless.

“Who the fuck else Joshua!” She raised her voice slightly removing his arms from around her.

Chanel was an old mistress of Jeys and he broke things off with her two months in but she couldn’t take him leaving her due to the contract ending so she stalked him and was a bitch to every new woman he used for sex and entertainment which was Dakota. It all started in September when Josh and Dakota where out at a restaurant having a few drinks and dinner when Chanel popped up on the two “Oh so this why you’ve been ignoring for this new bitch?!” Channel shouted in the restaurant cashing a scene.

Which escalated in her and Dakota having a back and forth because in all Dakota wasn’t fighting over no man especially not jey no matter how charming he was she wasn’t but the disrespect she took from Chanel wasn’t going to keep happening.

“Look I told you she ain’t my girl and plus ima handle it.” Jey reassured Dakota waving her off.

“You better because I’ll hate to gut a bitch eyes out. Keep fucking with m— What I say?” He cut her off glaring at her with dominance.

“Okay I heard you.” She pouted “but you better handle it cause I don’t have time.” She sighed wrapping her arms around her chest.

Pulling her into an embrace he wrapped his arms around her body rubbing up and down her sides soft and smoothly. “I said I got Dakota don’t worry okay?”

“Okay.”

For a while there was some silence the only thing that could be heard was the music being played from her speaker that was a till she broke the silence with a question “can I ask you something?”

“Yeah , go ahead.”

Dakota started to think back on what Jasmine said was she in love with Josh? Was he in love with her? The question lingered in her mind so much she needed to to know. Even with them not supposed to falling eachother because of the agreement of no strings attached she couldn’t help but fall for him.

“Do your ever….think maybe we could be a couple?” She questioned with pleading eyes but also wanting honesty with anything he threw at her.

Jey thought long and hard for a min before giving her an answer “Honestly no, I mean you’re a gorgeous and talented woman but Dakota we both know this isn’t what we agreed to no strings attached and after a divorce I went through a year ago I ain’t ready for another relationship.”

“You’re just another one of my clients.”

Everything hit her deep in the heart like someone stabbed after hearing those words everything shattered for her. What was she thinking? She didn’t know she even thought he would ever slow down things for her just because he had sex with her but she had hoped

Maybe she wasn’t in love.

To be continued.

I hope you all enjoyed this! More to come let me know if you want chapter two of this series? Also leave comments.

Opinions on jey, Dakota, jasmine , or even Chanel?

How we thinking about the relationship of Jey and Dakota will they fall for each other in the long run?

Lmk and again thank you for reading I hope you all enjoyed! Excuse any mistakes please till next!🎀

Also if you want to be added for a tag-list comment and I got you!

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tohakumaru · 1 month

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[project page]

>walk away, go with the nomad. i love you.

since you cannot cry, you make an effort to push the stale air out of your lungs, a poor imitation of a sigh - i guess bad habits really die hard. if the nomad has noticed, then it pays you no mind and simply carries on. casting one last lingering glance at the water and the sky above, you dutifully follow. after a short while, it becomes clear that something has changed. the nomad has picked up its pace, moving in erratic strides. here and there, you find it dashing across the sand, beak and head angled upwards, as though searching, or following an invisible thread in the air, one that you can feel, but cannot quite grasp, like a long forgotten name - always on the tip of your tongue, yet never to be spoken aloud. at times, you struggle to keep up. it's so hard, you're so tired, it's too much. your eyes burn with fatigue. you want to scream, to beg the bird-thing to slow down, but the words evade you everytime you open your mouth, and the nomad does not so much as look at you. a hot and bitter pressure builds behind your nose and muffles your ears. once again you feel yourself falling apart - but the blanket wrapped around your frame and the water sloshing in your hollow stomach seem to work against your body's trajectory to disintegrate, two forces swirling inside and all around you, like a wicked pendulum that propels you forward despite, despite.

i won't let you go, should have known that from the start.

---

tenderly her eyes made their pilgrimage across the mounds of glass and steel, mourning perhaps hunger is a cure for insanity, shut-you-up-real-nice knowing full well being alive is a horrendously beautiful thing while the dogs, blood stained snouts dig out the madness, turn it into a five course meal heaving, a still-beating heart melts like butter on their lips as poorly clipped nails fumbled and fussed,

just enough to make a day-ride.

---

in this fashion, you and the nomad dance across the white sand for some time, until a hillside comes into view. upon closer inspection, you are awed to realise it is made entirely of roots. at the foot of this strange hill, a grove - an incredible indent in that tangled mass that is the tree-hill - opens up and presents an even more curious sight: 12 creatures, each bearing the likeness of a bird, but is clearly not one. they stand stock-still and solemn, with multitudes of dried flowers and glittering gemstones at their feet. their faces, elongated and coming to pointy, beak-like ends, are not dissimilar to the nomad, but much more haggard; and so immobile, it is easy to mistake them for statues, has there not been the occassional puffs of dusty smoke and shrill noises, like a kettle boiling over, coming from their beaks and throats that betray any hints of liveliness about them.

the nomad slows its steps, and looks down. it keeps its eyes to the ground as you get nearer to the grove. it occurs to you that it is avoiding the living-statues' gaze. surprisingly, they reciprocrate the gesture. Ever so slightly each of them turn their head, so their eyes fall off the nomad, and onto … you. you, who does not belong you, who comes on a leash, believing it to be choice you, who dies, and nothing changes

to your bewilderment, the statues came to life, all at once. they grovel at the flowers and gems, and toss them in handfuls at you as the nomad leads you through the grove, leaving a trail of petals and stones. when you pass the 12th statue and come to the end of the opening, everything suddenly shifts: slowly, mechanically, the roots shape themselves into a winding stairway, leading you up the hill.

calmly, the nomad signals you to go up.

what do you do?

[previous chapter]

#illustration #fiction #drawing #impossible nomad #writing #storytelling #prose #poetry #poll #stories #ocs #creatures #monster #art #artists on tumblr

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fayes-fics · 9 months

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Comfort

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict comforts his new wife when her courses arrive…

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, non graphic references to period blood. Otherwise, just the fluffiest of fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Thanks to @colettebronte for help with the title. Request fill for anon HERE, where Benedict comforts his new wife when her period arrives overnight. This might be the most saccharine-sweet fluff I have ever written. For my usual smut peeps… err, apologies? Normal filth will resume shortly, I'm sure lol. <3

You stir from your slumber to a dreaded dampness you know far too well.

Oh dear heavens, no!

Overnight, your courses have arrived without warning. Or perhaps, with hindsight, there were some signs, but you had assigned blame for the symptoms elsewhere. You had put your tiredness down to the exhaustive social whirlwind of your first ball as a Bridgerton. The dull lower back pain you had felt merely due to traipsing around the extensive grounds the host was keen to show off to all and sundry.

For a few moments, you lay staring frettingly at the ceiling, unsure what to do. You can tell that your nightgown and, likely, the bedsheets will carry evidence of this unwanted early arrival. You had plans to inform your lady's maids to prepare the following night. Trust your body to be at least a day early when you least need it.

Next to you, your new husband of just fourteen days, Benedict Bridgerton, is sleeping soundly. You roll your head to look briefly at his handsome face in repose on the adjacent pillow, then bite your lip in anxiety.

Oh god, he cannot see this!! He simply cannot! What am I to do?!?

____

You had been taught a few things in the run-up to marriage by your Mama. One of them was never to mention or address the “monthly visitor” to your husband—it was a matter for you and your maids to deal with. On the nights you were “visited”, you were strongly counselled to sleep in your room rather than with your husband so he would not have to deal with “such unpleasantness”. This may have been logical advice for a regular wife of the Ton, but your mother probably never considered how non-traditional your husband would turn out to be.

Hours after your nuptials, upon arrival at your new marital home - a wonderful brick townhouse just a few streets from Bridgerton House - you had politely inquired where your bedchamber was. At first, he laughed, then frowned when he realised you were serious. It turned out he had not made plans for, or indeed, set up a room for you separate from his.

“We are husband and wife now. We shall sleep together,” he explained, drawing you into his arms and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

“But… every night?” you stuttered, still grappling with what exactly was expected of you as a wife.

“Yes darling,” he confirmed, still sounding vaguely bemused.

____

Since that day, you have shared a bed every night, which has been delightful for so many reasons. Indeed, you have never slept better in your life than in the two weeks since your wedding, falling asleep securely in his arms and awakening to his handsome, smiling face…

…Well, that is until now.

Now, you have no earthly idea what to do.

You surmise it must be early, dawn breaking, a grey, feeble light peeking around the top of the heavy velvet drape curtains over the windows. Barely enough to see shapes and rough outlines as your eyes adjust. Not wanting to awaken Benedict by igniting a candle, you gingerly push back the bedspread and slide out as quietly as possible. In the mirror across the room, you catch sight of a scarlet bloom, visible even in this low light, so stark against your white cotton nightgown. Turning back around, your fears are fully realised when you see a mirror imprint left upon the sheet where you slept.

Horrified, you fly into a flurry of movements. Wanting to hide both your nightgown and the sheets you have sullied, albeit unintentionally. You slip as silently as you are able to the linen supplies cupboard and gather terrycloths designed for bathing. One, you wrap around yourself; another two, you decide to place upon the bed, hoping it will conceal the stain until your husband leaves the bedroom.

You cannot wait to bathe but know that running a bath would surely awaken Benedict, the noise of water being poured into the echoey copper, even if across the hallway, being bound to rouse him.

Once back next to your side of the bed, you push the covers towards the middle and start to pull at the edge of the undersheet, hoping to slide a cloth under the stain and one atop, to stop the evidence from spreading. You glance furtively at your husband as you work, who unfortunately is turned onto his side facing towards you, as he often is when you awaken.

In all heavens, could you not turn the other way just for once, my love?

You move as stealthily as you can, so very keen to be unnoticed. The most challenging part is trying to wedge a cloth underneath, the sheet pulled taut by your husband's weight pinning down the other side. Just as you are fighting with both hands shoved far under the sullied sheet, you hear a sudden sharp intake of breath.

Oh no! He is awake.

His eyes fly open, and he squints as he takes in the sight before him. Then, a frown passes over his features.

“What on earth are you doing, my love?” his voice is deep and rough with sleep.

You whip your hands out from under the sheet, belatedly realising you are also muttering a repeated “no no, no no” under your breath as you attempt to reach for the upper cover and hide what has happened, but it is just out of reach, kneeling as you are beside the bed.

“Darling,” he sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes, obviously thrown off by your agitated state. “Please, whatever is the matter??” his tone rising in volume and concern.

Your eyeline falls reflexively upon what you are trying to conceal on the bedsheets, and his tracks yours. Unable to handle your embarrassment, you bury your head in your hands and slump backwards onto your heels, certain this will be repulsive to him.

“I am so sorry, husband; I was not expecting this to happen today; please forgive me,” you mutter defeatedly behind your hands, ashamed.

You are expecting a noise of derision or disgust. What you do not expect is a chuckle and then a large, warm hand brushing your shoulder.

“Darling, please get up off the floor,” his ask caring, no rebuke to be heard.

Your head slowly tilts up, and to your shock, he is leaning over onto your side of the bed, not far above the stain, and is observing you mildly befuddled benevolence.

“But, I…” you trail off, even as he reaches for your hand.

“It is fine,” he cuts in, squeezing reassuringly with his fingers. “You are a woman. Such things happen. There is no need for shame,” his eyes are soft with understanding. “I do have sisters, you know,” he adds with a sanguine laugh, a shorthand to explain his knowledge of your situation.

Your mouth falls open a fraction, completely taken aback by his affable, almost nonchalant reaction; it is very different from what your Mama taught you to expect. While you flounder in surprise, he rolls away and gets out of bed, padding around to your side, crouching next to you and drawing you into his arms.

“You… you are not repulsed?” you stutter as you recover, your brow creasing.

“Of course not, my love. It is perfectly natural, and there is nothing about you or your body that repulses me,” he assures, kissing your cheek. “In fact, it is very much the opposite,” his tone sincere and soothing.

You get lost in his hazy eyes and gentle smile, accepting his doting kisses that make you feel warm from head to toe. It is then he looks down and spies the bathing cloth you have swaddled yourself in from the waist down.

“I assume your nightgown is in a similar state? And that you would like to get clean?” he guesses empathetically as you nod demurely. “Then I shall summon the staff to run you a bath,” he hums, delicately brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen askew in your scrambling efforts.

“Thank you, Benedict, so very much” you exhale, relieved and still slightly unmoored by his reaction.

His face breaks into that crooked smile that makes butterflies flutter under your ribs.

“Please, my love, it is literally nothing. We have promised ourselves to each other for life. I expect to see this many more times,” he explains calmly as he rings a bell to summon his butler and presently provides instructions for a warm bath to be drawn and the bedding to be changed by the maids.

“You do not wish for me to sleep elsewhere when I am so afflicted?” you check as soon as you are alone again.

He chuckles as he did before. “Whatever for? You are my wife. I want you beside me all the time. It matters not to me if you have your courses. I still wish to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His sweet sincerity makes your heart skip a beat as he nuzzles your temple. “Although it has been a few short days since our wedding, I have rather gotten used to you being beside me. I cannot sleep soundly without you, my love. Nor would I want to try. We shall share our bed every night,” he adds solemnly.

“But, what if one of us is sick?” you inquire as he helps you to stand up from the floor, pulling you into his arms.

“‘Tis no bother. We shall surely both contract the same, seeing as we reside under the same roof; at least we can suffer in company,” he jests warmly into your ear as his hands rub your lumbar spine with a pattern that soothes the ache you feel there.

“What if you must travel for your art?” you challenge.

“I would be heartbroken if you did not come with me,” he volleys back with a playful pout that you can't help but giggle at.

“What if one day we have a child, and they will not rest without their mother?” your question is almost timid, knowing there is a bloom on your cheeks at the very thought.

He cups your jaw gently and tilts your face to look up into his. His mien is so devoted that the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Then they shall simply sleep between us, my love. It will be my child, too. You will not be alone. Not when you have your monthly courses and not in the raising of our children. Of that, I promise,” his cadence is lilting and ardent.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe shakily, scarcely able to believe that the man you married is nothing like how your mother had warned. It makes you feel so grateful you cannot stop your emotions, heightened at this time of the month, from bubbling over.

A large, warm thumb blots the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes without comment; he just accepts your state, bussing a kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you, y/n,” he breathes, warm air gusting over your skin.

“I love you too, Benedict,” your reply muffled into his neck as you mould into his strong embrace, remaining there until a lady’s maid taps on the door to convey that your bath is ready.

And true to his word, over the years, you are never a night without your husband. Through many monthly courses, through sickness and health, through children and even grandchildren. It is always his face you see just before your eyes droop closed and the moment they flutter open again. Your safe space. Your comfort.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #1k notes

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sweeterhoni · 1 year

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i hate it when my brain functions differently when i'm in class, also, a snippet of a wip that's based on this brainrot

non-idol au . childhood friend!jake x afab!reader . R18 MINORS DNI!

a/n: this is suggestive. this isn't like me but this.. phew i need to breathe before writing more

before reading more, this fic is mixed with a religious theme and i'm so sorry bc this might just be straight blasphemy 🙇‍♀️ .

jake never knew what changed, you stayed nearly the same so there wasn’t much to highlight on you. jake never paid attention to you, he grew up with you and maybe that was enough to justify his distance. but was it? or maybe that became his favorite excuse to use when people keep asking why the two of you weren’t stuck together.

but what made him come up with excuses? what made him distant? what changed? – these were all the questions that pondered his mind. jake doesn’t have any answers despite this ‘operation: stay away from y/n’ has been going on for months. he just knew he had to have his distance when he felt himself getting hard around you.

it wasn’t hard. thanking your faith and focus in your religion to an extent where he started to attend church services again, but you were there. you were always there, and maybe his quick glances to your direction were enough to satisfy the torture he’s been putting himself through. but did he really have to go out of his way to attend your services when sunday was his only free day?

jake was a star in your university. people drool over him, they devour him and he indulges in it. you once joked he almost acted too similar to an incubus who feeds off the sexual energy from people, and he laughed and rebutted with “maybe that’s why you never felt anything sexual? is it? because i’m a, quote on quote, incubus?”

and ever since that day, jake could never put you out of his mind. you were devouring him unknowingly.

﹉﹉﹉

it was a sunday.

jake suited up, wearing his white long sleeve polo shirt that perfectly hugged his broad shoulders. he tucked it in his grey slacks, defining the inverted triangle shape he hides under sportswear and his uniform. it always felt like a sin to show up to the church subtly flexing every woman’s dream but does he still have any shame? when his mind defines lust when you show up in your dress that reminds a nun. you were always picked to pray for any services, requiring you to wear the white dress and veil the ‘baby nuns’ wear.

seeing you in it, jake always wanted to start a religion. a religion where you praise him, and devote to him the same way you devote to christianity. it wasn’t like him at all to have these sudden urges that just revolve around you, his life was soccer and academics– but you were becoming a part of it if you won’t stop whatever this is.

he was an hour earlier, just in time to watch you pray.

he wanted to defile you right then and there when you kneeled, your eyes closed, and your head perfectly angled as if you were doing this for the entirety of your life. he struggle to sit properly when you show no struggles in kneeling upright with your head bowed, and with the way the veil only shows a bit of your well-kept hair, jake knew he had to keep himself from acting out the events playing in his head.

he wasn’t even praying, all he did was fantasize about you.

a half of an hour passed, and he watched when you rose with ease. jake had his eyes fixated on you, it mesmerized him when you didn’t wince from kneeling that long and oh did he want you kneeling before him. he ached to see you be obedient when it wasn’t for him.

he wanted to shrug off these thoughts, maybe the praises were getting to him, but maybe it’s just you when these same thoughts never occur towards anyone else. he sinned again. you were his childhood friend, both of you grew up following the same religion, you were too religious and it would physically hurt him if he continue to think of you in that light but it just felt right.

“jake?” thank god then for your calming voice who snapped him out of the trance. “yes?” he replied, masking the lust he now clearly feels for you, “are you alright?” he was. he was alright before all these thoughts come to him, now he wasn’t. he watched how your lips rested in a pout, waiting for his answer with furrowed brows that show worry “of course, why wouldn’t i be?”

jake realised how he might have looked when fixating on you, not an ounce of guilt in his body as he chased a high.

“your brows were furrowed, it looked as if they’ll be sewn together.” you spoke with worry laced in your voice, you watched as he drew in a sharp breath. you figured he was just worried for the captain tryouts next week, so you nodded in understanding “ah! nevermind, you might be too worried for next week’s tryouts, but i’ll cheer you on jakey!”

and there it is.

even if you never tainted dirt, you were sultry. the way you said his childhood nickname felt as if it was the last straw, he had to get out of there. he had to get away from you. so he shamelessly used it as an excuse to leave, leaving you a pat on the head– “you’re right, you were always so bright my dove! i have to go, there’s an unscheduled practice today, be a good girl. for me, okay?“ and oblivious to the second meaning, you nodded your head.

“i’ve always been a good girl, for you and for the church.”

that left him hanging. it was true that you were always good, you were the epitome of an angel. some even call you that when you turn your back, you were always good. you were too innocent.

and it drives him insane how you agree to everything he says. it drives him insane how easy you comply to him. jake just wanted you, and if he wanted– you would already be in his bed but it all felt wrong when he caught sight of the pastor the two of you grew up with.

“i’ll go then. i’ll see you on wednesday, and wear the jersey i gave you, alright? that can be your way of cheering me on.” of course it was just another excuse to drive people away from you. he wanted you to wear it as it acted like a silent agreement, albeit one-sided, that you were only his to devour.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen #enhypen smut #jake x reader #jake sim #jake sim smut #jake smut

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childofthewolvess · 1 month

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Familiar Spirits in Eclectic Paganism & Witchcraft

Hey, you! Have you ever wondered what familiars are, and if you have one? You've asked the right person—I've been working with animal spirits for as long as I can recall! I recently contracted two wolves that have been spirit guides following me my whole life to be permanent familiars. I've gotten quite a few questions on my experience in spirit work recently and wanted to talk about it.

Before I even start to give a brief background on what familiars are and how to know if you have one, a quick disclaimer:

Familiars are not your spirit animals! Or totems! They are a type of contracted spirit and/or spirit guides.

Spirit animals and/or totem animals are closed to Native American/indigenous practices. A familiar animal spirit or spirit guide is an entirely different concept. Don't get them mixed up! I'm tired of seeing appropriation in animal spirit work with people taking the term "spirit animal" and running. Native spirit animals are an entirely different concept that I, as a white person without an indigenous culture or background, do not have the authority to speak on nor practice.

So, what is a familiar spirit? Are they real animals, are they ghosts, or are they spirit guides?

The answer: a "familiar" can be all three, depending on who you ask! "Familiar" is a very broad term that you can find in many practices and various branches of witchcraft. Some folks have a physical animal companion/pet as their familiar, such as a cat or dog, that they called out for and/or received as a gift. Some people's familiars are the spirit of a past living animal companion/pet that accompanies them in the metaphysical. Some familiars, and this goes for my case, are contracted forms of spirit guides gifted by deities, ancestors, guardians, etc.

In my own definition, I would define a familiar spirit as a spirit bound to a practitioner in a contract. Most of the time, a familiar will take the shape of an animal. However, historically familiar spirits have also been mythical creatures, such as dragons, elves, or fae.

Let's keep in mind that spirits, especially spirit guides assigned to you, will appear to you in the form they choose, so, yes, it is entirely possible you've got a dragon spirit that's reaching out to you. It's also possible for your familiar spirit that was a cat to appear to you as a dog if it decides to change its shape. In my experience, I haven't encountered any mythical creatures, but your familiars are a unique experience to you!

Today, I'll be talking about familiar spirits in particular. I don't have experience on the end of physical familiars, so I'm going to speak about familiars that accompany us in the spiritual, metaphysical, or energetic realm.

What are familiar spirits good for, and why should I want a spirit following me around?

There's quite a few reasons folks work with familiars! For one, their energy is a lot more gentle, louder, and softer (in my experience) than a deity's energy. They are personal to you, are meant to work with you, and can act as a guide that is with you 24/7, whenever you call upon them. They are for you!

Here are a few different reasons I, or other witches, might work with a familiar:

A "alarm system" for spiritual attacks. If someone attempts to harm you or your energy, your familiar will likely be the first to know, and can alert you to it.

Aide and assistance in spells, magic, and divination.

A safe and trustworthy lucid dreaming or astral travel companion. If requested, familiar spirits will happily follow you into your dreams and walk with you when your body is at rest. This was huge for me as someone who suffers from PTSD and has frequent nightmares—after contracting my familiars, I found that going to sleep I felt protected and guarded when I was not awake.

Many familiars can provide wisdom or knowledge from an animal's unique perspective, and can help with advice specific to their species. For example, a cat might help you to understand how important rest and relaxation is, encouraging you to take it slow and let yourself bask in the warmth of the sun.

A comfortable spirit that you can feel and understand that it's there for you—it is with you, all the time, it understands every aspect of your life and soul, and may be a comfort entity. Mine certainly show up when I need to feel better or overwhelmed.

Clear communication from the spiritual realm—I've found that familiars are very quick and concise when communicating, making them excellent messengers for deities or ancestors. Sometimes mine deliver messages from my God Squad.

This is not an all-comprehensive list, and I have many of my own interpersonal reasons for working with familiar spirits. The point is: they can help in a ton of different ways as a safe and trustworthy spirit.

Well, that's cool! How do I know if there's a familiar spirit reaching out to me?

Everyone is going to have a different experience in this front. Here are some signs to look out for if you're feeling an animal or creature's presence and sensing a spirit around you that may be interested in becoming your familiar:

You are repeatedly dreaming about the same animal(s), or seeing them in the astral.

You are drawn or interested to a specific species of animal (a lot of times, look back at your childhood; that imaginary friend may have been a spirit guide!)

You repeatedly see signs of this animal surrounding you, such as repeated imagery of a crow, or people just can't stop mentioning bears around you and you can't figure out why.

Your deities or spirit team have communicated to you that they have sent you a spirit, or that there is one in your presence.

The spirit feels playful, wild, or behaves like an animal does in comparison to a spirit that might carry energies of a deity or any other supernatural spirits.

The spirit is not causing you harm or distress. If you are being caused distress by a spirit, it's absolutely not a familiar, as they are sent to aide you and become a companion, and you might need to Banish The Thing That's Causing You Stress because it's not a familiar spirit!

You vet the spirit and its communication may seem more primal or animalistic.

The spirit feels smaller (or larger) than a deity or other entity's presence, and more concise to its shape. I found that my familiars feel much more compact and true-to-side with their energies when they are around me compared to the ambiguity with my deities.

Once again, many of these are unique to my experience, and with this topic, you'll find that many people have so many different stories as to how they got their familiar. The important part is to vet your spirit, make sure that they are a creature trying to reach out, and find out who or what sent them to you. Trust me, you don't want an unwelcome spirit following you around. Always confirm with divination, with your God Squad or spiritual team, that this is an animal spirit reaching out to you.

Okay, that's awesome. I know and got confirmation that there's a familiar spirit reaching out! What are my next steps?

PAUSE! Before you contract or bind yourself to any spirit, you need to spend time with it and get used to it to make sure you for sure want this presence in your life consistently. Contracting/binding is non-reversible and permanent. It is a big decision, and you need to be super prepared and confident in making that decision.

You may choose to do a meditation to reach out to this spirit. Ask it what it looks like, its name, how it feels, etc., to get a full feel of its energy. You may do a tarot/oracle reading with the spirit. You may ask another witch to confirm that it is a familiar spirit and what messages it has for you. You may walk with your deities to meet the spirit. You may also choose to work with the spirit for a bit before fully contracting it to become a spirit if you are hesitant or new to spirit work.

I worked with mine as spirit guides for, well, 15+ years through the course of my life before I contracted them. It'll take patience, and it's a big decision to contract a spirit. Familiarize yourself (pun intended) with its energy, advice, knowledge, and how it interacts with your practice and through your daily life.

Is the spirit too overbearing or strong? Is it overwhelming? Is it an energy you wouldn't want surrounding you constantly? You may not want to contract a spirit of this manner. Tread carefully, and be aware of what you are binding yourself to. You can always peacefully depart with any familiar spirit who you choose not to work with if the "trial period" doesn't feel right—they won't take it personally, I promise! I've actually worked with quite a few animal spirits who were first spirit guides that had the potential to become a familiar, and did not end up contracting them as I found that they were simply not totally aligned with my life's overall path.

I've worked with the familiar spirit, gotten my confirmation, and know that this is a spirit I want to contract. How do I do that?

First of all, congratulations! That's a big deal. You've put in the work, and now you're ready for the next step. What's a contract and how do you do that?

Well, it's exactly what it sounds like. You can write or speak the contract when in contact with your familiar spirit and have their presence with you. Contracts are two-way, so you need to be able to allow the spirit to communicate their own boundaries and ensure they agree to the terms. Here are some things you may or may not want to include in your contract:

Your boundaries. How often do you want to feel your familiar's presence? How are you going to communicate if you need space from the spirit? What does that look like? Do you want the spirit to be able to walk into your dreams without permission?

The familiar's boundaries. Does this spirit want to be with you constantly, or do they need time for themselves where you may not be able to reach them all the time? How would they like to be addressed or treated?

The things you would like your familiar to help you with. Do you want them to assist you during spells with their energy? What about walk with you in your dreams?

How much the familiar wants you to talk about them. Some familiars are very quiet and like to keep their experience personal to their person, while others are perfectly fine with the witch talking about them. Mine are!

How you can give back to your spirit. This is a two-way contract, and even though your spirit is there for you, it's always kind to consider what the spirit may want as well. Would it like an altar or sacred space? Does it want you to talk about it? Perhaps it wants you to research and learn about its species to help preserve or safe its kindred souls!

What an alert from a familiar looks like. Coming from someone with a service dog, you should want to know what it looks like when your familiar is reaching out to you! If you want to be alerted of spiritual attacks, how should your familiar notify you of that?

Restrictions to the contract/binding. Maybe you don't want it to be entirely permanent—maybe you only would like to work with this spirit for a set amount of time, or vice versa.

Come up with your own rules! Write, revise, and write again. Edit your contract until it feels right between you and your familiar(s). When you are both ready, you can agree to the contract. With mine, I signed a physical letter that I wrote to my familiars, and let them channel through me to speak on their own behalf. How you do this is unique to you!

My familiar wolf spirits and our story.

Who the heck am I to speak, right? Figured I'd share a little bit of my experience with my familiars.

I've been working with my now-familiars for as long as I can remember, upwards of 15+ years. I first saw them when I was around 1st or 2nd grade, and I definitively remember seeing a black wolf curled up underneath my desk as a kid. I would walk with these spirits throughout my childhood in my dreams, or the space between awake and asleep. I would speak with them, see them when I closed my eyes, and when I was very young, saw them when my eyes were open as energies. Consistently, I was followed by a male black wolf and a female lighter gray wolf. They happily guided me through my childhood and sparked a great passion in me over wolves.

When I grew older and lost my ability to see these spirits right before my eyes, I decided that they were imaginary friends, as I'm sure most of us had when we were kids. I would talk to my friends, my parents, my brother, everyone I knew about these two wolves. Everyone thought it was adorable; me with my little imaginative mind, and imaginary friends.

When I was a teenager, I was reintroduced to these two wolves in a meditation to reach out to my spirit guides. The black wolf began to walk with me as a spirit guide and the lead of my spiritual team before I began deity worship and work. He would be my guiding light as I explored my craft and paganism. Later on, his white wolf mate would reappear to me in the same form. And then there were two!

I later learned after working with deities, especially with Loki, that the black wolf was a spirit companion sent by my ancestors. He (the black wolf) has walked alongside me for many lives. Once upon a time, he was alive, originally domesticated in ancient Scandinavia by his original person, one of my ancestors. His spirit followed my own through many cycles of death and rebirth after becoming domesticated. His mate, the white wolf, followed him into astral, and in this life, my deities allowed her to become one of my guides. I worked with these two wolves for a large amount of time as spirit guides before finally doing the research and deciding to contract them, as suggested by Loki.

I contracted my two familiars for life recently. My practice with them looks like feeling their presences, walking with them in my dreams (I like to call it "wolfwalking" lol), inviting their presence to my rituals, and pretty much incorporating them into every part of my practice. They are always with me, following me into my rest each and every night. I am constantly working with these two spirits and have dedicated myself and my work to them. They are, simply put, my companions for life!

In return, I have dedicated myself to spreading awareness of the wolf. I am a professional naturalist and author, and every day I speak about protecting the species and their life histories. I am writing my thesis over wolf reintroductions. They are the key to my passion and heart!

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! This is my experience and advice, so questions, comments, or additions are always welcome.

If you thought this was super useful and would like to give thanks for the 3 hours I spent writing and revising this post, I have a Ko-Fi for tips! I also do accept requests in my inbox for topics on familiars, including interpretation and communicating messages from your familiar spirits.

Thanks friends! <3

#witchblr #paganism #pagan witch #eclectic pagan #hellenic witch #pagan community #witchcraft #lokean #norse pagan #heathenry #familiars #spellcraft #spellwork #witch #spirit work #animal spirit

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kuni-is-daddy · 11 months

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OKAY HEAR ME OUT (new anon here btw :3)

summoner!y/n summons a demon, that demon being scara but he was a very… lustful demon and had needs for his own, using y/n as his own personal pet >_<

DOM!Demon Scara X Summoner Female Reader

//HI ANON. WELCOME TO THE SCARANATION I HOPE U ENJOY UR STAY♥️

ScaramoucheMasterList

word count: 1.67k(150 follower special ♥️)

Featuring: A mention of chongyun,xiao and Kujou sara.

Warning: Scara horni. ((Teasing,Blowjb,M/press,Biting, aftercare.))

MINORS AND UNDERAGED BLOGS/USERS THIS IS NSFW CONTENT! PLEASE DONT INTERACT BEYOND THE CUT.

A cycle, That is what you would call your life once you moved from inazuma at a young age and became the strongest summoner in teyvat. Waking up in your house by guili plains to be greeted by your younger friend, Exorcist Chongyun at the door. He was a good kid and even saw you as his idol despite being in rival clans. Summoners had demon familiars. And would lead exorcists and even the lone yaksha of guili plains to exterminate the corruption deep within liyue. You wore a similar outfit to him with opposing colors. A white embroided hoodie with dark blue aligned the stitches, a black undershirt and skirt, separated by a silver belt holding your vision and trinkets to sedate demons; leading down to your stockings and boots. Wake up, summon spirits to kill, Run errands for the higher ups, train and sleep. So, you had a plan, Rebellion. All you needed was shouki no kami. The first descendant of the raiden gakoden who was sealed by his own creator. He was known for mediocre things; giving wishes or killing those that the summoner wanted dead. Only for a small price..

After moving all of the belongings out to the living room you stood in your empty room infront of the tri electro symbol made of chalk as lightning struck from the outside. The only thing remaining was your made bed and backpack. Along each side of the tri electro symbol laid 3 'artifacts' Each one representing the three betrayals he once suffered. The first was a figure of the almighty narukami ogoshu, something you had plenty of thanks to your distant friend kujou sara. The second was a blade crafted by a swordsmith from tartarsuna. The 3rd was a doll representing a young male child. As a summoner it was against your sworn oath to ever summon a demon for evil. But it didn't matter, with this new life shouki no kami would give you there'd be no need to turn back.

With a deep breath you began the chant and closed your eyes. "Oh everlasting arcane demon of wisdom I summon you forth with the 3 artifacts of your betrayals. Please bestow your divine gaze upon me." With the last word leaving your lips the world fell silent, not a single drop of rain poured down your cracked window and remained suspended with the rays of lightening as if all time stopped. It was ominous and different from you previous summons. Painfully silent with your rushing heartrate in your ear as the only comfort. You opened your eyes at the disturbance and looked at the ritual. 'The offerings are missing..So it worked.' you began to take a step to observe your surroundings when a timid yet soothing voice echo'd from behind you.

"Another human asking for my help. Hah, to think such a self righteous species would run to a demon." You turned to face the demon, falling into his enticing gaze as if it was the abyss itself as he sat on your bed, legs crossed and head resting against his fist on your headboard. The demon had a beautiful face, indigo hair that covered his ears and slashed against the blood red eyeliner. His horns we'rent too big and neither was his black tail with a heart shaped tip. "I'll make this easy for you, im not in a good mood. So dont waste my time." you blinked out of his capitvating gaze and remembered why you summoned him. "S-sorry. Im a summoner and my name is y/n. I..Want a new life." The demon raised an eyebrow "Y/n.. Now thats a surprise." He looked you up and down, examining your appearance. It really was you. Same face, same vision and the same beautiful body.. The demon smirked. "uhm..Do you know me?" you replied "Tsk, who doesnt? 'y/n, the savior of liyue and summoner of demons." He mocked. "Alot of people want you dead, you know that?" your heart sunk at his words. "D-dead.. why?" "Dunno. But if it we're me, come one. Come all id say." Shouki no kami left you in shock. You've already thought this 'destined' life of yours was a burden. But others didn't even want you to live it any longer. Your stomach began to turn a the thought, covering your mouth from nausea.

"But would you look at that, I finally got to see this pathetic world's strongest." He smiled, watching as you covered your mouth in disgust. "Pft- Don't tell me you'd really believe everything I said just like that? I'm a demon, I could be lying to you~" he teased, but you we're to caught up in his words, if they wanted you dead.. why did he refuse and kill them instead? Looking back at the demon, he seemed unbothered.. intrigued actually. It began creeping you out more then the thought of having a unknown target over your head for so long. The way he looked at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes during the subtle silence of your nervous breathing to the way his tail would sway when you told him your name... 'So.. a new life. That's what you want?' No kami unproped his legs, hitting his heel on your bag. Interested, He looked back at you again still stuck in a shocked daze and turned back to it. Picking it up as his black nails tugged at the zipper, revealing the many cursed tools, a sigil of permission and even the picture of him you used for the ritual. He took out the ripped paper. 'Shouki no kami, scaramouche: The prodigal.' "WAIT- dont touch that!" you snatched the bag from his hand, letting out a relieved sigh. "T-theres all kinds of things in there that could hurt you...and why are you even going through my stuff?!" you said defensively. "Hurt me? you think those little toys in there would have an effect on me." he revealed the sigil of permission in his hand, flinging it around like a human feeding a dog while sticking out his tongue. You angerly placed the bag down, climbing onto your bed and trying to take back the sigil.

Scara relished in your attempts to take it, your skirt brushed against his shorts while the fingertips of your smooth left hand grazed along his ripped black shirt. The closer you got to the demon, the more you smelled a metaled tint coming from him. The small droplets of blood oozing onto your hand. He would never let someone be ontop of him, nor have him in a view of submission but compared to the past summoners who he's killed. You've been the only interesting one and ontop of that..The strongest. The demon licked at his fangs, slowly bucking his hips up against your lower body. But with his guard down you snatched the sigil back and tucked it ontop of the dresser. Relaxed by Leaning back and sitting on the demons clothed length. This is the life you wanted, peaceful with no worrys of who killed who and what to summon, ironically for a split second this demon gave you that life. "How childish, the strongest summoner chasing after a sigil like a cat." "T-thats not the point.. Stop acting funny and give me my wish!" 'brat' You insisted as your body passively grinded against him. "A new life, Is that all you truly want?" He flicked his free hand as a spark of electro glowed Infront of your face. It was enticing, you already we're told people wanted you dead so what more did you have to lose. "Y-yes! I want it..please Shouki no kami." your fingers dug into the demons shirt. His cock twitched at the way you pleaded for his blessing, over something so stupid as a 'new life' he knew more then anyone the divine dont mind playing cruel tricks on its prisoners.

----Smut

"Then get on your knees." The words left his smooth lips as his tail trailed to your leg, feeling against the texture of your stockings. Making you jolt up a little from the sensation. "E-excuse me?!" "You fucking heard me. Get on your knees and show me how bad you want this life." It was threatening, with no hesitation you quickly rose off of the demon as he began propping himself up just as you first saw him only his legs we're spread and eyes filled with lust. You looked back at the sigil only for scara to grab you by your hair to have you face directly at his pained boner. "To think the strongest would be more focused on a useless thing like this instead of me." He jerked your head again, "Now tell me, y/n. How bad do you want this life?" "M-more then anything shouki no kami! Please." He chuckled, "Anything huh?" "Y-yes shouki no-" He sucked his teeth. "Scara, call me scara." "O-okay scara..Please take my blood and-" He cut you off, "blood? You think i need your blood for this?" you nodded, "No, brat. I have something better for me and you." His black painted nails disappeared into his pants, slowly revealing the tip of his length then the rest of his cock. You gulped, From your position his size looked bigger then your whole head. No..you we're sure it was bigger. "Be a good girl and make me feel good, Maybe then i'll give it too you." He brushed the tip near your face.

Reluctantly, you licked your lips the trailed your tongue around the tip while the demon did nothing but stare at you as he held your hair, Unamused. "More. Do you not know how to suck a cock?" Your heart raced as he tightened his grip along your hair. It was humiliating with your title to be down on a demon like this and you we're sure the pervert was getting off to it. His length entered your mouth. "hng..Shit your so warm." You began bobbing your head up and down slowly, Adjusting to his size. "Fuck..Thats it..Go faster." He bucked his hips up into your face, Hitting the back of your throat as you desperately avoided gagging. "Fuck...faster. Be a good pet and make master feel good" You shifted your free hand down and under your skirt. Tending the sudden wetness inbetween your legs. Scara ran his hand through his hair, watching your hand trail down to your skirt. "Oh yeah? Is my pet getting off to this? How- Hng..Fucking pathetic.." his tail trailed against your hoodie and back to your neck. nudging against you more to take him deeper. "Fuck yes..Masters close, swallow it all pet- Ah swallow it~" He tugged his hand on your hair again, Pressing you up and down on his cock balls deep as he reached his high. Your eyes began rolling back as you choked on his length, tears streaming down your cheeks and Gripping your hand onto his thigh from his aggression while your other toy'd with your clit. With a loud groan his hot fluid rushed down your throat making you see stars as he pulled your head off his length. "Ngh...shit..Such a good pet..Who would've thought the great y/n would-" "P-please sca-master can i have my wish now?" he tilted his head at your request. Oh right.. you did ask for a new life. "Sure pet~ Get on the bed." you whined from his words "M-master~ please i-" He picked you up, slamming you onto the bed face down. squishing your head onto the pillow while jerking your hips up and ass near his cock. Your skirt poofed up, revealing your now ripped stockings near your private parts. Scara's fangs we're aching to just sink his teeth into your thighs or any part of your body but you we're the strongest after all, he didnt take that forgranted. The second he let his guard down again you'd most likely try to take advantage.

He trailed his hand under your skirt, while the other brushed your hips closer to his cock. All you could do was hug the pillow through your muffled pleads. "M-master! Please- wait- d-dont touch their its-" "Wet? Hah..I know pet~ you want this cock so bad dont you?" He ripped your stockings and skirt off and began stroking at his length before entering. Even slapping at your ass just to laugh at you jolting from it. "This...is going to be your new life pet~" In a blink he shoved his entire length inside you. "S-scara! Wait ah~ i-its too big!" He leaned down, grabbing and choking you from the back of your neck. "AH~ Mahster~ I-i cant~ Please~" He grew irritated at your pleads. "Shh..You'll be fine pet. Now be good f' me and take it~ fuck.." the sound of skin slapping and your headboard creeking echo'd across the room as scara groaned and even let out higher pitched moans from how good you we're taking him. "Thats it..Just like that.. Im gonna fucking cum inside you for being such a good girl. The strongest- Hah~ fucking summoner crying for me. Fuck yes~" He let go of your throat, as you panted and drooled on the pillow from his now faster pace. "Master~ AH~ Y-your going to fast! I- m' close!" "Fuck yeah your gonna squirt f' me? Do it y/n~ Cum all over my cock and ill give it to you~ Hah.. Ill give you what you fucking want~" A chord struck in you, and for the next couple of seconds it felt as if your mind turned to mush while you sunk into the pillow, panting from the juices that escaped onto his length. Scara couldnt help himself anylonger, He flipped you over onto your back then pulled his pants completely off as you still held onto the pillow in shock. Folding your legs onto his shoulders and pounding into you in a mating press. "Hiding behind a- ah~ pillow now? Tsk- you really are pathethic-" He tossed the pillow onto the floor and sunk his head into your neck. "Mahster! AH MASTER T'TO MUCH~ SCARA-" He sunk his fangs into your neck. Making you moan out and grab onto his horns from the shock wave of pain and pleasure. He came instantly from your grip and passive stroking on his horns. Painting your walls white with his sticky load. He pulled away from your neck after noticing your sudden rested breathing. 'She passed out' he thought. Scoffing, he licked up clean the small amount of blood from your neck. Leaving his electro symbol in replace of the healing bitemark. Scara didnt know what came over him, But his tail shifted towards the palm of your hand as if it had a mind of its own. Your too precious.

'To think id be setting up a bath for another human.' in a few quick teleports you we're in your tub surrounded by bubbles and a sweet smell of your soap. Your eyelashes fluttered from the water and vivid sight of the demon. "Tsk. Do all summoners have such a messy living room?" "S-sorry..Does that mean i get my wish now?" the demon wiped a lather of soap on your chest while admiring the size of your breasts. "Your still obsessed over that? Hmm..." "I-it is your job as a demon isnt it? To grant wishes. Or at least for you-" he smirked at your reply. "Clever arent you? Well..The situations changed since you've never specified what you wanted in this 'new life.' Your going to be my personal fu- pet. In exchange, I'll...Tag along with you. I want to see how strong the 'savior of teyvat' really is.."

In that moment you wanted to burry your head under the soapy water but all you did was let out a heavy sigh and sink Into the touch of him resting behind you, coating your skin in soap. Scara was right, the divine have cruel ways of playing tricks on its prisoners. But maybe..just maybe.. you we're both a blessing in disguise for each other.

THANK YOU FOR READING :)

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x yn #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin thirsts #scaramouche x female reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #genshin x female reader

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calisources · 3 months

Text

𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒, 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from difference media about age gap and age difference relationships, all acceptable relationships within consenting adults with age differences. Please do not use for teenagers or taboo relationships. These have some foul language or suggestive undertones so please beware. You can change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

I bet it doesn’t feel like this with that boy of yours, does it?

You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness, pumping my cock into one of your tight holes. And you’ll take every inch like a good little girl.

What a tiny life we’d live if we fashioned ourselves to the comforts of others.

I think I'm a little old for that, love.

No, not old. But you're, you know, a man.

Tell me that you've never had anyone else. I want you to pretend.

You show me things I've forgotten.

Sometimes I think you must have seen it all before. That I can't show you anything new.

I like you as you are, he said. Even if you're going to wear me out.

I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul. She bruises far more easily.

This prince is a few years younger than you, and does not have much experience.

I must have forgotten how young you would be, Princess. Has there ever been a sovereign of such tender age?

Who is to say what love is or what it wants to be, the shape it takes, or how quickly it comes on? Love has always made a fool of time.

I don’t feel old. As a matter of fact, sitting here with you makes me feel older, not younger. Nothing is rubbing off.

Mr. Rochester was about forty, and this governess not twenty; and you see, when gentlemen of his age fall in love with girls, they are often like as if they were bewitched.

He's old enough to be your father.

Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.

But she wants you. And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.

Age is no barrier. It's a limitation you put on your mind.

Age considers; youth ventures.

Age, like distance lends a double charm.

I'm a strong believer that a good relationship can work, whatever the situation.

Love knows no boundaries, not even the ones defined by age.

Don’t let society’s judgment define your love. Follow your heart, despite the age difference.

Most people would be upset they get an old man as their husband.

Do not worry about your age, Ser. The lady pays attention not to age but prowess.

I will not let time choose my lovers for me. I trust my own judgement.

You should look to more prosperous gardens, Your Grace.

I was sixteen years old when you were born.

No doubt you were much my superior in judgement at that period of our lives; but does not the lapse of one-and-twenty years bring our understandings a good deal nearer?

Come, my dear Emma, let us be friends, and say no more about it.

I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers. But I am a partial old friend.

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

We spend more time discussing this matter than being together as a couple. And I believe you are doing it on purpose.

You think my attention is as fickle that I would look elsewhere.

Perhaps it would be you who looks elsewhere. A handsome older man must have youthful maidens at his disposal.

If we were closer in age, it would've been fine.

I have loved you since the moment I helped you with your zipper.

Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?

You’ll be a silver fox before 40 at this rate.

Well, it’s definitely your fault. You stress me out. You’re making my hair turn white.

It’s easy to cast opinions when your heart isn’t the one invested.

I hope you love me, because I love you like crazy, and I'm going to want you the rest of my life.

You already know the truth. And I will be by your side, but I am not good for you.

I am tired of others getting to choose who is good for me. You do that quite often, frequently.

You'll keep your name. You'll keep your will. You'll have your own servants to attend you— you will have everything you ask for.

Don't ask me to let you do. Do you understand? Do not ask me.

It might be best for us, for myself, if I found myself useful elsewhere.

I wish you could just slow down so I could catch up to you.

Stamina is not an issue. But rather what others will whisper.

When are you going to get over this? All I did was touch your leg.

Why would it matter if someone saw you saying hello to me?

But it’s nice to be around you. Like I haven’t lost a decade of my life.

I been in love with you since I was six, fool.

I will always belong to you, but I’m afraid there will be others after me. I’m not a young man/woman.

A kiss ... a muse. It is a question, an unlocked door. It is ... elation ... and anguish.

You have treated me better than any young man my age. Why should I go for either of them?

Young men are eager lovers. I prefer my lovers to take their time. I’m sure with men is the same.

You make me feel really safe. i’m not used to that.

You gave an old man purpose again. And that is more than I can ask of you.

I was a child then, with a crush and a dream. As I grew, dreams changed but you remain the one in my dreams.

I have thought about kissing you a lot. What would that make me?

I have more in common with you than men my age.

Do not pretend to think what I think.

More recently, there are rumors she prefers her lovers to be younger. Truth to be told, I don’t blame her.

I will teach you in time, but for now restrain me and have your way with me. I don’t want to think, I just want to feel.

We have never done anything to be ashamed of. You’ve never done anything to be ashamed of.

Personally, I think the difference keeps us interesting in another another.

You can teach me all you wish, and I can learn. I know I can.

There is always a wild side to an innocent face.

You are being too forward right now, my lady. Be careful.

There would be other loves. Even great loves. But she was right, only one remained perfect.

Maybe there are some people you marry and people you love.

Just so you know, you're a natural lover. Your body expresses beautifully what's in your heart.

I have never felt so alive... as when I am in your arms.

A 5 to 7 relationship is a relationship outside of marriage.

You're older than I am, you're wiser I'm sure and you've seen much more of the world.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #age gap meme #age difference meme

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saetoru · 2 years

Text

#𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘)

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ it’s always been you for him, just like it’s always been sano shinichiro for you

— pairing ⋮ sano shinichiro x reader

— length ⋮ 8.3k words (sobsob)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, best friends/childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, jealous shinichiro, slightly insecure shinichiro, virgin shinichiro, dry humping, praise, handjobs, unprotected sex, creampie, misunderstandings, the bike shop incident but he lives (in my world he never dies), love confessions, happy ending :)

— notes ⋮ this is for my sweet angel @arlertslove 's selfship collab <3 tysm for letting me join i had so much fun writing my lil love story with shin <33 and fank you cat and ris for listening to me ramble about this and beta reading 💋

shinichiro is used to girls coming into his shop looking for wakasa. he’s used to the wandering eyes and the stalled excuses as they wait around for his friend to show up. and he’s fine with it, really. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why someone would want imaushi wakasa, and he’s not so stupid as to miss the fact that his friend is as smooth with words as he is gifted in the looks department.

but still, he kind of wishes he could fulfill that one last part of his “biker dream,” the one where he’s got eyes with heart-shaped pupils following his every move as he pretends to be unaware, rolling his sleeve up as a “coincidence” while he tightens bolts with his wrench. but he finds the only eyes of a girl that ever seem to pay attention to him are yours—and he’s okay with that, really.

it’s just that you’re simply way out of his league, and he’s not foolish enough to daydream over a king’s riches when he’s dressed in the rags of a commoner.

“shin, do you ever leave this lame ass shop?” you complain, taking a sip of your soda from your straw. from the side, manjiro makes a disgruntled sound of protest.

“you wouldn’t get it,” the child huffs, cheeks puffed out as he glares at you, “girls don’t get cool stuff like this.”

“oh, i’m sorry,” you snort, shooting him a teasing grin, “i’ll try harder to see the wonders in scrapped hunks of metal.”

“this is not scrap,” shinichiro grumbles, tinkering away at the engine of the bike before him, tongue stuck out in concentration. your gaze softens just a little at the way his hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. “this ol’ thing’s still got some life left in her,” he hums, “think i could make a decent number offa her.”

shinichiro is a simple man. he wears a white t-shirt and dark jeans every time you see him, and he does his hair the same way he has since the day you met him as a kid. he has the same fast food order that you know by heart by now, and he still gets a diet coke from the convenience store every time you get a bag of chips—the only thing that’s changed is he now adds a pack of cigarettes to the mix, a sheepish grin on his face when you look at him disapprovingly.

i’ll break the habit someday, he always tells you, today’s just not that day. and then, before you can open your mouth to tell him not to make promises he can’t keep, he swoops in under your nose and grabs your chips from your hand, lumping them in with his pile and paying for you despite your protests.

every time, without fail.

“that is if you don’t keep her for yourself,” you point out, making him roll his eyes.

“are you here to drink all my soda or lend a hand?” he grumbles, shooting you a half-hearted scowl. “now make yourself useful and hand me a few screws,” he turns back around, hand reaching behind him as he motions for you to offer them to him. you reach for what you think are the screws—that is until manjiro snorts in amusement, of course.

“those are nails,” he snickers, hopping off his stool and moving to get the correct items in question. your brows furrow, glaring at him when he sticks his tongue out to you before plopping a few screws in his brother’s hand—which look awfully close to nails if you might add. “see? you girls aren’t cool enough to understand the difference.”

“hey,” shinichiro scolds, tongue peeking out again as he concentrates on lining the screw up just right. something fond bubbles in your chest at the sight, something warm and sweet, even if it feels just a little scary. “if you keep saying things like that, you’ll never get a girl, manjiro.”

“oh yeah? you’ve never had a girl, shin. what would you know?” the blonde pipes up, and almost instantly, a wave of crimson dusts over his cheeks as shinichiro throws his brother a dirty look. and when you chuckle, hand clamping over your mouth as you giggle into your palm, the blush rises to the tips of his ears.

he’s cute, you think. he’s always been a charmer, always made your lips twist upwards no matter how much you tell yourself you won’t let him. he’s a good friend too, sends you songs he thinks you’ll like, never leaves you on delivered for too long—even if you text him at three am, and sometimes, even as he rolls his eyes and complains, he’ll shove his plate your way when you steal a bite or two.

shinichiro’s a simple man. he’s got a good head on his shoulders, and more importantly, a good heart in his chest.

you think you hate whoever the girl he’s going to spend the rest of his life with is—even if you’ve yet to meet her…and even if she doesn't quite exist just yet.

“well, i know how to respect them,” he points a thumb at himself, flicking manjiro’s forehead affectionately as he stands to his full height. he reaches over to grab a towel, wiping the grease off of his hands. “you better head home now,” and then he turns to you. “and you, i’ll walk you home.”

you start to protest instantly. “i can walk myse—”

“i’ll walk you home,” he says firmly. “it’s getting dark.” you know better than to argue with him when he uses that tone—the same tone he uses on manjiro and emma when he’s being gentle yet firm, loving yet strict.

“fine,” you huff, but the warm feeling from earlier returns, this time tenfold. you almost think you’ve swallowed the sun in the middle of winter.

“you better come home right after. grandpa says to be home in time for dinner for once,” manjiro says pointedly, and with a whine of complaint as you ruffle his hair with a grin, he’s off. and then it’s just the two of you as you turn back to shinichiro, devious look on your face that tells him he’s about to be the unfortunate victim of your relentless teasing.

“you know, at this rate manjiro will settle down with someone before—”

“are you two just gonna spend the rest of the night in here?” a voice cuts you off, smooth and deep—and at the moment, the bane of shinichiro’s existence. wakasa strolls in, hands in his pockets and the stick of an already finished lollipop in between his teeth as he finds his way to stand next to you.

shinichiro pretends he doesn’t care about the way you beam at his friend. no, he tells himself, he doesn’t care one bit.

“not everyone closes up early like you,” you tease, poking wakasa’s chest as his smile widens, “quit slacking off at your gym.” and wakasa is as easy to fall for as he is to talk to. he lets banter fall off his tongue almost as naturally as people fall for his charms, and shinichiro doesn’t see why you should be an exception.

wakasa isn’t a weak man who runs toward trouble before he can think. he wouldn’t have to stand in between your legs as you’re sat on the sink, flinching under your touch as you dab disinfectant on his wounds. he wouldn’t stumble over the right words to tell you when you flash him a smile as you ask him if you look alright. he wouldn’t cry over small things and embarrass himself when you’re around to witness. so of course you’d want imaushi wakasa—who wouldn’t?

shinichiro just wishes that it were as easy to shrug off the sinking of his heart as he tells himself it is.

“well, there’s not much keeping me there when i don’t have a pretty face to keep me company,” wakasa teases back as he winks playfully, and shinichiro almost has to swallow down bile as you look down shyly.

when was the last time you ever looked away from him shyly? or the last time something he said ever made you stumble over your words as you answer back? his mood sours, and then before he can think, he shrugs his jacket over his shoulders, lips pressed into a tight line as he clears his throat for your attention.

“well, you heard manjiro. i shouldn’t be late for dinner,” he says dryly, making your brows furrow. “i’ll be off.”

“but what about—”

“waka will walk you home,” he grunts, cutting you off before turning to the male beside you, “you know how to lock up.”

“shin—” but then he’s gone, and you’re left alone with wakasa as the door shuts behind him. you stare at the man next to you, and he stares back, and neither of you quite know what to say—or what’s even happened in the first place.

and when you get home that night, for the first time in a really long time, your text message gets left on delivered for ages—even though it’s not three am.

——————————

by now, it’s common knowledge that sano shinichiro has never had much luck in the love department. he asks and asks, and girls always deny and deny. but contrary to popular belief, he’s not desperate for some sort of action like most guys his age are. he’s not particularly interested in sex—at least, not urgently, anyway. and he doesn’t think he’s undesirable by any means, after all, he wasn’t the leader of the top gang in the nation for nothing. he’s sure there are girls who would happily take the chance to sleep with him—but that’s not quite what he wants. he doesn’t want a meaningless fling one after the other.

he just doesn’t like the idea of waking up to empty sheets with the lingering scent of perfume and sex, and he doesn’t like the idea of not knowing the names of people he gets in bed with. and he especially doesn’t like the idea of letting people see the intimate parts of him without feeling intimately for him in some shape or form. the truth is that shinichiro, the weak king and famed leader of the mighty black dragon, is really just a romantic at heart.

so he asks shyly, roses in one hand and his heart in the other, weight shifting on the balls of his feet. he asks and asks, and girls deny and deny—and he wonders if maybe he’s just too pathetic to love.

and then there’s you.

he’s been in love with you since before love was a concept he even understood—and he suspects he’s even been in love with you since his “girls have cooties” stage at the tender age of six. for as long as he can remember, sano shinichiro has grown up on the warmth of your hand holding his.

you hold it in line at school when you insist he be your line buddy, you hold it when you carefully help him off the ground when he’s beaten by people twice his size, you hold it when you’re nervous about getting lost in a busy crowd on the streets, and you hold it in his dreams before tugging him in for a kiss.

but of course, as on brand of his luck as ever, he wakes up before he can feel the softness of your lips and taste the sweetness of your chapstick—which he suspects you wear strawberry flavored.

except today, shinichiro doesn’t get to wake up to the crushing disappointment of your kiss being cut short. instead, today he’s awoken by the loud sound of a fist banging on his door, making him jolt awake with a gasp.

“shin, open the damn door,” you demand from the other side, and he groans, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a scowl. now he’s thinking of the image of your lips pressing onto wakasa’s, and he feels bitterness creep up his shoulder, hunching over him and whispering sweetly in his ear to ignore you and promptly fall back asleep.

but you’re nothing if not persistent, so you keep pounding against his door.

“sano shinichiro, if you don’t open this door right now, i’ll walk in whether you’re decent or not,” you warn.

“well, i’m naked. so stay right there,” he calls out—even as he’s dressed fully clothed in a tank top and sweats.

“you don’t sleep naked,” you point out dryly, and he can just picture the scowl on your face, the way your arms cross, and your cheeks puff up in anger. he can also picture the way your foot taps impatiently, and if he wasn’t so mad at you (for no good reason at all), he’d have smiled fondly.

“how would you know?” he mutters, “you sleepin’ in the same bed as me?”

“shin, just open the damn door,” you sigh, and the soft thud against the wood tells him your forehead has gently fallen against the surface.

shinichiro, as he has been for most of his life, has not one ounce of him that has the strength to deny you. so with a heavy sigh, he slumps back against the headboard of his bed, crossing his arms.

“door’s open,” is all he says.

you don’t waste a moment, twisting the doorknob and walking into his room. it’s dark, and the curtains haven’t been drawn yet, but like clockwork, you step over the piles of clothes and seat yourself at the foot of his bed. you know his room like that back of your hand, what with the way you’ve spent damn near two decades coming over.

sano shinichiro has been your best friend since childhood—which by default, has always made you both susceptible to the cliche they’ll get married when they’re older remarks adults love to throw around so easily.

at six, you don’t care much for the statement outside of the mild shock you feel that adults always bring marriage into everything. shinichiro is fun, and he’s sweet, and that’s it. more importantly, he’s tall and easy to find when you play hide and seek, so you always end up winning. but shinichiro also splits his candy bar with you when you can’t decide between that or a bag of chips, and in exchange, you give him half of your bag. it works—you think it’s a rather unlikely pair between the two of you, but it works.

at twelve, you’re disgusted. shinichiro and you could never get married—could you? the adults need to stop talking because honestly, adults don’t know what they’re talking about. they work just to pay taxes, they tell you to go to bed at ten pm because “sleep is important”—only to stay up until three am themselves, and they always talk about marriage when half of them can’t even make theirs work. shinichiro is your best friend and that's it. you don’t think you could ever kiss lips as chapped as his anyway.

at eighteen, you think the adults may have had a point. maybe they know what they’re talking about after all. shinichiro is so incredibly handsome—when did he get this handsome? he smokes outside with his hair slicked up, a new little style he’s trying out, but it’s always back to falling over his eyes by the end of the day. the phase doesn’t last very long. and even though as his best friend you hate that he inhales those death sticks, as his secret admirer you can’t help but appreciate how perfect his lips look curled around the roll of tobacco as he takes a drag.

at twenty-three, you hate the adults for filling you up with false hope. you think they must hate the youth and that’s why they fill their minds with sick, cruel daydreams and fantasies of true love and happily ever afters. shinichiro has asked every girl he can think of on a date except you. you know it’s because you’re his best friend—but that’s just the problem. best friend. that’s all you’ll ever be, and it’s all the more frustrating that it’s all he’ll ever see you as, that you’re the only fucking girl he hasn’t asked out—especially since you’re the only fucking girl that appreciates him enough to say yes in a heartbeat.

but shinichiro is your best friend, and you’d rather have him like that than not at all.

“why’ve you been ignoring me,” you cut right to the chase, crossing your arms and throwing him a look as mean as they get. he crosses his arms right back, looking to the side as he avoids answering your question.

he’s obnoxiously persistent in avoiding you even as you’re less than two feet away from him, so you decide you have no other choice than to be obnoxiously stubborn in demanding his attention one way or another.

“shin, if you don’t spit it out, i’ll tell waka it was you who scratched his bike,” you threaten. it’s a good start, it gets his lips to twitch into a slight frown, but he’s still determined. “i’ll scratch your bike,” you huff. still nothing. “i’ll tell manjiro about that one time you accidentally—”

“you promised you’d keep that a secret,” he scowls, and then his eyes widen. it’s too late, though, and you’re already grinning at him cheekily as you revel in your victory. rolling his eyes, he grumbles under his breath before uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to either side of him with a sigh. “what is it?”

“oh, i don’t know,” you scoff in disbelief, raising a brow as if to question if he’s being serious. “maybe it’s that you’ve been radio silent for three whole days. three! i could’ve been dead in an alleyway and you wouldn’t even know.”

“i’d be invited to the funeral,” he points out.

“i’d tell them not to let you in.”

“you’re supposed to be dead,” he furrows his brows, staring at you like you’re stupid—and then you’re back to usual for a moment, like he hasn’t ignored your existence every time he remembers you smile at wakasa, like you aren’t ready to skin him alive for disappearing off the face of the earth, like you’re both just too damn in love with each other to stay mad for long.

it’s a little too bad he doesn’t realize it and neither do you.

“it was hypothetical,” you pinch your nose. “stop dodging. why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“glad to know you noticed,” he grumbles. he could really use a smoke right now, he thinks. but it’s barely eleven am and he hasn’t even had breakfast yet—even he’s at least that much concerned for his own wellbeing.

“what’s that supposed to mean?’ your eyes narrow, angry slits that glare at him like they’re daring him to explain himself further and tread down such a dangerous path. but shinichiro doesn’t back down, doesn’t even falter as he looks you dead in your eyes as he answers.

“just thought you’d be busy is all,” he says nonchalantly. too casual, too relaxed. like the calm before the storm—and you sense a storm might be approaching rather rapidly. “talking to wakasa must really clog up your schedule.”

“what the fuck does that even have to do with anything, shin?” you stare at him incredulously. that evening was not your first time talking to imaushi wakasa, nor was it your second or third, and it likely won’t be your last. you’ve talked to wakasa so many times, you can’t imagine why it should matter to shinichiro now.

unless…

no, you reprimand yourself, no wishful thinking. but what else could it be if not jealousy? all too suddenly, a small spark of excitement knits itself comfortably into your bones, and in a small fit of boldness, you wriggle your brows at him. he scowls instantly.

“what are you makin’ that face for at me—”

“are you jealous, shinny?” you tease, shuffling to sit next to him, face inching closer to his. you almost—almost, but not quite—miss the way he gulps.

maybe wishful thinking is only wishful thinking until it comes true.

“w-what are you…n-now you’re just makin’ stuff up—” he cuts his stuttering off when you giggle, face crimson as he throws you a (weak) glare. reaching, you pinch his cheek, and you can hear the audible hitch in his throat as you do.

“jealous you won’t be my number one man? don’t worry,” you hum, patting his face gently with affection. anything to keep touching him. “you’re the only one i text at three am—though it would be much appreciated if you’d answer this time,” you say pointedly.

“you’re the only person i text at three am too,” he mutters.

“not that anyone else texts you at three am,” you snicker, throwing your head back and laughing when he gently bumps your shoulder with his. “it’s a good thing. more attention for me. if you text other girls in the middle of the night, i’ll have to enlist wakasa for more attention—”

his face sours, making you trail off. and for some reason, he really seems to be taking this friendliness with wakasa personally.

“well, what’s wakasa got that i don’t anyway?” he grumbles, “just cause he’s a good kisser or something doesn’t mean—quit laughing,” he hisses when he hears you chuckle quietly.

“how do you know wakasa is a good kisser?”

“you tryin’ to tell me you think he’s not?” he raises a brow. somehow, your silence tells him everything he needs to know, and he feels bitterness creep into his skin, seeping into the small crevices of sano shinichiro that are very hard to reach—the small parts of him that are envious and resentful, so unlike his usual golden heart.

“i’m sure you’d be a great kisser,” you offer, which he takes as a half-ditch effort to comfort him. “you just need to practice ‘s all.”

“yeah well, that’s kind of hard to do when no one even says yes to a date,” he grunts.

it’s quiet. he almost feels bad for springing this on you like this, like it’s your fault you’re into a guy as great as wakasa—like it’s your fault girls aren’t into a guy who pales in comparison like shinichiro.

“we could practice if you want,” you say quietly. he finally turns to look at you full on.

“what?”

“well, i mean…just for practice, you know? we’re still friends,” you shrug nonchalantly.

right, friends. but shinichiro wants to feel your lips on his one way or another, and this might just be the only way. he’s not going to ask for more than what he’s already been graciously offered from the universe.

“okay,” is all he says, voice somewhat strained. “d-do i gotta like…y-you want me to play music? o-or i could—”

“shin,” you snort, staring at him amused, “we don’t need music to kiss.” he’d be embarrassed—really, he would. but you’re just so pretty when your eyes are bright like that, and he’s shameless enough to be proud he’s made you laugh.

wakasa can suck on that, he thinks.

“w-well, i just thought…c-cause you know, people say music sets the…you know?” he stares at you like he hopes you’ll catch what he’s hinting, and you blink innocently—purposely, he suspects. “you know, th-the mood,” he croaks.

“we’re kissing, not fucking,” you snort. he sputters at the directness, and then you decide to spare him and cup his face with both hands, face hovering just inches before his. “just tell me if you want to stop, okay?” you murmur, thumb stroking his cheek tenderly.

like he’d ever ask you to stop, he thinks. still, he gulps and nods.

“okay,” he murmurs back when you seem to wait for him to say it verbally. “i will,” he assures,

and just like that, you kiss him. shinichiro almost takes this as a sign to pinch himself, just to make sure this isn’t a dream he got lucky in and didn’t wake up early from. but he decides if this is a dream, he’d be cruel to take away the one chance he has to experience this, so he plants his hands on your waist instead, gently tugging you to straddle his waist.

his lips are soft, and they aren’t chapped like they once used to be. your lips taste of strawberry chapstick, just like he always imagined.

shinichiro isn’t a bad kisser, you decide. he’s equal parts enthusiastic as he is gentle, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of—if not the—best kiss you’ve ever had. but then again, maybe it’s just because you’re in love with him. you’ll take him however you can, and even if this is just “as friends,” you’re content at the moment with the way his lips mold against yours, large hands gripping onto your hips as he pants under you.

except, neither of you takes the initiative to be the one who pulls away—and then one thing sort of leads to the other, as they always do in cases like this. your hands wander to his hair, tugging at his roots, he groans in surprise, and then suddenly both of your hips are grinding your crotches together. he lets out a muffled moan against your mouth as you rub against his growing erection.

and even though you really shouldn’t, you grind down on him until you feel his hard-on poke through his sweats, pulling sweet little whines from him as his breath grows ragged.

“f-fuck, that…that feels good,” he groans quietly, “keep doing that.”

“yeah?” you ask, “like this?” your lips are trailing along his jaw, sucking on the skin—just because you can, just because he’s not stopping you. he throws his head back against the frame of his bed, whimpering as you drag up and down his length through your pants. you gasp as you feel him rub against your clit, hips moving faster as you chase the friction.

he seems just as desperate for it as you do—because now, his hips buck to match your rhythm, panting raggedly as he feels his orgasm slowly build up.

“‘m close,” he gasps, “fuck, fuck, ‘m so close. jus’ a bit more—f-fuck,” he cuts himself with a whimper of your name as he cums, fingers digging into your hips bruisingly tight as he desperately rolls his hips against you. you watch his head fall back, how his cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue, how he shudders with a blissed-out face as his mouth parts with pretty little moans, how his hair falls over his closed eyes and curtains his face. you feel his pants dampen, sticky ropes of cum seeping through the fabric, making a mess and soiling both of your clothes.

but you’re too busy mewling as he drags against your clit to care, hips rutting against him faster. you’re close—he knows it too, and he’s determined to get you falling off the edge as quickly as possible.

“c’mon,” he says through a shaky voice, “jus’ let go, cum for me.” for someone with no experience, shinichiro isn’t as shy as you initially thought, and he certainly knows where the clit is. he guides your hips with his hands, helping you stroke against his cock until you slump over him, crying out as you cum too. your walls spasm around nothing, aching to clench around his girth.

“shin,” you whine, “sh-shit, feels good.”

“god, n-need to be in you,” he gasps, “can i? please, please, please,” he pleads into your skin as his head falls to the crook of your neck. you don’t waste a second, grabbing at the hem of his tank top and lifting it over his head, slipping it over his arms. you take off your own shirt, and his eyes fall to your chest instantly. “can…can i?” he asks hesitantly, and you nod, grabbing his hands to cup either tit.

“yes please,” you breathe, letting out a shaky sigh as he kneads your breasts in his hands before letting them wander to unclasp your bra. he gulps when it falls, eyeing your bare chest before leaning to press a soft kiss to your collarbone.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against the skin, nose brushing against it and sending shivers up your spine. his thumbs roll over your nipples, pebbled and hard under his touch, pulling a soft moan from you as he pinches lightly and rolls them between his fingers. “feels good?” he gives you a charming little grin—just a little giddy he’s doing something right.

“yes, keep going,” you whine, pulling a grunt from him as you shuffle on his lap to get closer, rubbing against his still hardened cock. your hand reaches past his waistband, pulling his length out and wrapping your hand around it as you squeeze gently.

shinichiro lets out a strangled groan—somehow, it feels way more different when it’s your hand and not his. he lets out ragged breaths as you gently stroke him, whimpering when your thumb glides through his slit and smears the pre cum around the head of his cock.

he’s pretty, long and curved and flushed a soft pink at the tip—and truth be told, bigger than you expected.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” he rasps, staring down at the way your hand fists his cock, a slick, wet noise ringing through the room as you drag your hand up and down his length. he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his hair clings to his sweaty forehead. and then you pull away, making his eyes fly open as his mouth opens to protest.

you speak before he can. “you sure about this?” you ask, and he swallows at the tenderness of your voice, the way your eyes are soft and sweet and searching his for any signs of changing his mind.

he shakes his head quickly—embarrassingly quickly if he’s being honest with himself.

“yes. please don’t stop, baby,” he groans, and the pet name slipping off his tongue is all the encouragement you need, letting out a labored breath before nodding.

shinichiro watches in a trance as you rid yourself of your pants and underwear, watches as you tug his own sweats down his hips and help him out, watches in sheer awe as your grip his shoulders and line your entrance up with his tip, rolling your hips to just glide him over across your folds, gathering your slick along the head of his cock. you both shudder at the contact, and slowly, you sink down on him, taking him in inch by inch.

“god—f-fuck, s-so tight,” he chokes, hands flying to your waist and gripping tightly, panting harshly as his eyes squeeze shut. you gasp, head falling to his shoulder as you sink down on the last few inches, bottomed out as he drags along your walls.

he’s big, and he curves into you just right—almost like he was made to fit you. slowly, you grind your hips, moaning against his shoulder as he groans, the sound of his voice making you clench down on him unintentionally.

“so full, shin,” you whine, “feels good—you make me feel good.” slowly, the grinding turns into your hips slamming down on him, bouncing on his cock as he throws his head back and lets out a wanton moan.

“sh-shit—you’re perfect, so, so perfect,” he rambles, hips snapping up to match your pace, thrusting into you deeper. he pauses for a moment when you let out a shrill squeal when he slams into you particularly deep, fat tip kissing your sweet spot and making you cling to him tighter. he throws you a cheeky grin, one that makes your heart melt and your eyes roll at the same time. “looks like i found it,” he grins to himself, and then he’s flipping you both over, a new aura of confidence radiating off of him that you’ve never quite seen in shinichiro.

“shin, please,” you whine, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his forehead down to press against yours, “fuck me,” you whisper.

“shit, baby,” he groans, “look at you, so pretty. prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” you clench down on him. who would’ve thought praise from his tongue could make you wonder if you’re about to cum again, but it sounds so perfect off his tongue. so intimate and so sacred. “needed you so bad, you have no idea.”

“me too,” you gasp, drawn-out moan pulling from your lips as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips and bullying his cock past your folds in a perfect rhythm—you almost question if he really has been a virgin this whole time.

shinichiro is pretty—it’s the conclusion you’ve allowed yourself to come to after a long time of denying it. he looks pretty when his hair falls over his eyes as the sun makes the strands look a shade lighter, and he’s pretty when he rubs his neck and laughs nervously in the endearing little way that he does. and now you know he sounds it too, breathy and whiny against the shell of your ear as he desperately fucks into you, losing himself to the warmth of your walls, to the way they flutter around him so tightly. he’s also pretty when he lets out a deep, raspy grunt, and it serves as a reminder that he’s grown into a man now.

he’s not the same cry baby on the playground, staring up at you through wobbly lips and a bruise on his cheeks, desperately fighting back the tears in his eyes.

he’s a man now, lean and built with muscle you never really noticed was there, with a deep, husky voice that you never really took the time to register how much has changed over the years, with hands that are big now, way bigger than you ever remember as they pin your hands over your head, wrapped around your wrists.

but somehow, he’s still the same shin when he meets your eyes as his forehead presses against yours. your shin—your shy, awkward, weak little cry baby shin.

and you love him.

“you close? ‘m so fuckin�� close,” he pants, and then his hand sneaks down in between your bodies to rub his thumb over your clit, making your back arch as you mewl, chest pressing against his as your nipple graze against each other. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum baby. cum with me,” he pleads.

“s-so close, shin,” you sob, “need it, need it so bad.”

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he groans, “anyone ever tell you that? how fuckin’ perfect you are? you drive me so fuckin’ insane.”

“shinichiro,” you cry one more time before he angles his hips to slam into your spot, and then you cum—hard. your hips leave the mattress, shrill squeal rolling off your tongue as your walls spasm around him, making him grunt at the way you squeeze his cock. your legs are wrapped around his waist, mouth hung open as your eyes roll back, and if your face isn’t enough to send him over the edge, the way you moan through broken sobs definitely is.

“fuck, fuck—y-you gotta let go, baby. ‘m gonna…gonna c-cum, gotta let me go—”

“no, no, inside,” you beg, wrapping your legs around him tighter, pulling him closer as you stare up at him with wide, watery doe eyes. “please, i need it.”

he couldn’t hold back if he tried.

“shit—you’re really gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groans, and then his lips are on yours, desperately kissing you, letting you drink in his moans and swallow them up as he spills into you, cumming a second time.

he cums for what feels like forever—and if it were up to you, it’d be longer than that. his hips are sloppy, fucking into you as he rides out his orgasm with muffled whines against your mouth and a tight grip on your wrists. “fuck, fuck, fuck—f-feels good. ‘s so good,” he babbles, and you can feel his cock twitch with every rope of cum he spills into you, painting your walls white. with three more thrusts, he finishes, whimpering as you flutter around him and milk him dry.

and as he pulls out, slumping his body over yours while he breathes through labored inhales, shakily catching his breath, you take this as the perfect opportunity to be brave.

you’re brave as you mumble, “i love you, shin,” fingers weaving through his sweaty locks.

he tenses. your heart shatters. there’s a knock on his door.

“shin, hurry up,” you hear manjiro’s muffled voice through the door, “grandpa says no breakfast for either of you if you don’t come right now.” there’s a quiet grumble of, “they talk so much, as if they don’t see each other every day,” under the blonde’s breath, and then you hear the soft pads of his feet as he walks away.

and silently, as you both dress and fix up your appearances, you don’t know if shinichiro is the same shin you grew up with.

you don’t stay for breakfast, and he doesn’t ask you to.

——————————

shinichiro is stupid.

he’s a fucking idiot and he knows now why he’s never had any luck in the department of love. he’s pathetic and a coward and he deserves all the rejections he’s got lined up on his record—at least, that's what he woefully tells wakasa as he’s got his head in his hands.

“you’re not a virgin anymore?” wakasa asks in shock, mouth agape as though this is more surprising than the aftermath shinichiro’s so kindly summed up—the same aftermath that happens to be the worst mistake of his life.

“that’s not the fucking point i’m making,” he grits his teeth. “the girl i’m in love with thinks i don’t feel the same, man. can you read the room?”

“so no congrats cake, then?” wakasa asks, just to be sure. he dodges the screwdriver thrown at his head expertly. “i don’t see what the big deal is,” wakasa sucks on his lollipop, shrugging as though it’s a simple matter. shinichiro wishes his aim wasn’t equally as bad as wakasa ability to dodge is good. he really wishes the screwdriver hit. “anyway, just show up at her house with flowers and say, i love you too, i just got shy. girls love flowers.”

“i wasn’t shy, i was shocked,” he mutters quietly, “and it’s not that simple,” he grunts, sighing as he wallows in self-pity. wakasa is not as good at relationship advice as shinichiro thought, and now he’s even more irritated that someone as dense as his friend is blessed with so much romantic appeal.

“why not? she loves you, you know that now. the hard part’s done,” wakasa shrugs, “so you guys like…had full-on sex? are you actually not a virgin anymore?”

“you know what, forget i said anything,” shinichiro huffs, staring down at his hands with a frown. wakasa gazes at him for a moment, eyeing the look on his face that can’t be labeled as anything other than purely crestfallen.

“if you love her, you wouldn’t be sitting here feeling bad for yourself,” wakasa says quietly. “between the two of you, she’s probably more miserable right now,” he mumbles. “no point in being a coward now.”

it’s silent. and then shinichiro’s groaning before he stares up at the ceiling.

“i’m not like you,” he mutters, “i can’t sweet talk or be romantic or anything. i’m hopeless.”

“you’re right,” wakasa agrees thoughtfully, picking at his nails as he rolls the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other, “you’re not me.”

“okay, man. i get it, you don’t have to—”

“that’s why you lead black dragon and not me,” wakasa looks him dead in the eye, giving him a pointed look as though to say wake up. “and that’s why she loves you and not me. quit makin’ excuses and get off your ass.”

and shinichiro is stupid.

he’s painfully unaware of a lot of things, reckless and a tad bit too spontaneous in his choices, but he thinks maybe you’ve known that all along, and you still love him even through the busted lips and wounded pride. you loved him through his delinquency and trouble-making habits, and you loved him before he’s built himself to be the most respected gang leader around these parts.

so with a nod, he smiles softly at his friend—maybe it’s a good thing wakasa dodged the screwdriver after all.

“thanks, man.”

“yeah, whatever, don’t make it weird,” wakasa grunts, rolling his eyes. there’s a fondness in his gaze, though—and his lips just barely tug at the edges. “so did you really last long enough?”

this time shinichiro throws a wrench.

——————————

it wasn’t supposed to go down like this. he had a plan. a foolproof plan.

he had the flowers, he had the chocolate, and he even had a piece of paper in his pocket with a bulleted outline for the all the things he wanted to say—reading off of it word for word seems like a tad bit of a dick move, so he opts for bullet points instead of full sentences.

it was supposed to be smooth and heartfelt and endearing enough that you’d have absolutely no choice but to give in to his charms and say it’s okay, shin. i still love you. and maybe, if he got lucky and the universe was on his side, he’d get to kiss you some more. maybe other things too, but he tries to be practical and not hope for too much.

but evidently, the universe was not on his side because before he can even grab the flowers and be on his way to your house, he’s being robbed. and to make things worse, it’s by his own brother’s friends. and to add icing to the cake, one of them split his head open with a fucking chain cutter. he wonders if this is karma for trying to hit wakasa’s head with not just a screwdriver, but a wrench too.

so, instead of your front doorstep, he lands himself a nice little visit to the hospital, a teary-eyed manjiro and emma at his bedside by the time he wakes up.

“shin, do you remember me? i’m your sister, emma,” she says with wobbly lips and a quiet sniffle, tugging gently at his hospital gown. his eyes soften, and he places a hand on top of her head, ruffling her hair affectionately.

“yes, emma, i still have my memory,” he chuckles, “and you must be manjiro,” he teases. manjiro purses his lips with a huff, but when two tears trickle down his cheeks, shinichiro wipes them away with the pad of his thumb. “i’m fine,” he murmurs, “see? nothin’ to worry about.”

and then the door slams open and everyone flinches, all eyes darting to look at you as you stand with your own teary eyes and wobbly lips, the sound of your sniffles joining the rest.

“oh shin,” you sob, and soon, you’re gently cupping his cheeks and tilting his head to get a better look at the bandages. “does it hurt? are you gonna have any permanent damage? is the kid in jail? do you remember what happened? wait, do you remember me? it’s me, remember? we’ve been friends since we were kids, i helped you up after you got beat—”

“okay,” he hisses, “we don’t need to relive that. it’s in the past,” his eyes glance at manjiro and emma before meeting yours again. you purse your lips and roll your eyes.

“you almost died,” you spit at him, “how are you still worried about your rep?”

“i’m fine,” he grumbles, and then his eyes soften and he meets your gaze. he feels his heart sink when he notices there are tear tracks down your cheeks, staining your pretty little face in a way it never should be—you’re too good for this world for that. “really, i am.”

before either of you can even ask, manjiro is grabbing emma’s hand and tugging her along as he shuffles out the door, leaving you both to yourselves in the room without two sets of eyes watching…whatever this moment is as it goes down.

“shin,” you sigh, seating yourself down on the chair beside his bed. he almost whines in protest when your hands leave his face, missing your touch as soon as it’s gone. “i’m sorry i’ve been avoiding you. i…it’s not your fault you don’t feel the same.”

“wait—”

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” you cut him off, “i get it, really i do! and i’m not hurt. well, i am a little sad, i can’t lie, but i’ll be fine. we’ll be fine. i don’t…i can’t lose you, shin, you know? we can be friends, i’m okay with just friends—you’re my best friend, and i thought…i thought you were gonna die, and i hadn’t spoken to you in like five days, and—”

“but i do—” you shush him with a finger to his lips.

“just let me finish, okay? i’m really glad you’re okay, i don’t know what i’d do if you weren’t. god, you weren’t waking up, and there was so much blood when i got there, and manjiro was…a-and…” you trail off, voice cracking and eyes watering—and now you’re crying. sobbing, actually. sobbing and tearing his heart right out of his chest and shredding it one tear at a time, and he scrambles to grab your hand.

“you sure do love to hear yourself talk,” he grumbles, tugging you forward to wipe the tears off your face. and the proximity should make him the shy, awkward guy he always reverts into when you’re so close, but somehow all of it flies out the window at the sight of you crying.

he hates the idea of tears ever falling down your cheeks, and he hates the idea of him being the cause even more.

“what are you—”

“i’ve been trying to say,” he huffs, “i–” he takes a breath, one that’s a little shaky before he swallows. “i love you too. i just…just got surprised, you know? cause…cause you’re you, and you laugh at wakasa’s jokes—even though he’s not really that funny, anyway,” he rolls his eyes at the mere thought of wakasa, “and i just froze. i-it’s not cause…l-like, i meant to say it back, really! i j-just…w-well you know me,” he chuckles nervously. you’re staring with your mouth agape. “n-no one’s ever said anything like that to me—well, no. i do get told i love you…by like my family and stuff—wait, that sounds lame. forget that last part—” he almost wishes hanemiya kazutora hit him harder with the chain cutter at this point when he hears you giggle.

maybe death would be better than this, and at least that way he could haunt wakasa to make sure he stays far away from you. but he’s here, making a complete fool of himself as he openly admits that in his twenty-three years of life, he usually really just hears i love you from his younger siblings—and that’s typically only through batted lashes to get him to give in and let them get their way.

“well, at least hitting your head didn’t change you,” you tease, “you’re still the same.”

“it’s too soon to be making head trauma jokes,” he glowers, “i just poured my heart out to you, you know.”

“i know,” you hum, cupping his cheek and tracing a thumb over the skin. he leans into your touch and closes his eyes—and a small part of him is just the slightest bit proud he doesn’t need flowers and chocolate and his stupid bulleted list of things to say on paper.

maybe, he’s enough as is. shy, awkward, weak little cry baby self and all.

“it would be really appreciated if after this, you stopped giving imaushi wakasa the time of day,” he grumbles, “he’s really fuckin’ annoying.”

“you be nice to waka,” you chide, staring at him sternly. he pouts unhappily at the way you defend his friend. “he always says good things about you.”

at twenty-three, you think the adults are right. you don’t see yourself spending your days with anyone else besides shinichiro, and if you have to fight the reaper’s scythe yourself, you will—but you’re marrying sano shinichiro one way or another. now that you have him, you’re never letting him slip from your fingertips again.

so you climb into bed with him, tangle your legs with his and lay your head on his chest, ignore the cramped bed on the hospital that’s a little too small for the both of you, and you gently tilt his head down and you kiss him.

he kisses back as he holds your face, smiling against your lips like he’s got the world in his palms—and he does.

“i’m in love with you,” you murmur as you pull away, not meeting his gaze. your finger traces patterns into his chest, and his arm curls around you tighter.

“oh,” he says.

you glance up at him, frown marring that pretty, pretty face of yours. “that’s it?”

“and i’m in love with you too,” he whispers.

“oh.”

“that’s it?” he pouts playfully, bringing a hand to his chest as he writhes in faux agony. you snort, throwing your head back as you laugh, and he grins down at you, watching the light break over your face as you realize it’s always been you all along—just like it’s always been him.

“shut up, shin,” you smack his chest, smiling against his lips when they find yours in another giggly kiss.

shinichiro is a simple man. he finds that if he has you, he doesn’t really need anything else.

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#fics.#shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x you #shinichiro smut #sano shinichiro x reader #sano shinichiro x you #sano shinichiro smut #tr x reader #tr x you #tr smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #tokrev smut

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haru-natsuka · 2 months

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Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 3

Story will start after the synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1 << CHAPTER 2 <<

CHAPTER 3: FLOWERS

Adrian was the second male lead in his life, never getting the spotlight for himself. He lost to Cyrus in winning Liesel heart but it was one of the reason you to pay attention to him. It was out of pity at first. With time past by, the pity grown to a feeling called love until you followed Adrian around even after your graduation...

"I'm an excellent Adrian fan! No one is as successful as me!"

You proudly talked to yourself as a source of motivation to start the new day. In your hands there were several fresh flowers of blue Myosotis, ready to be presented to your love. After taking a deep breath to collect yourself, nervously you knocked several times on the door, strengthening your heart for the upcoming view.

The door opened from inside, and a sleepy Adrian appeared in front of you, rubbing his eyes and as he did so, you tried your best to resist the temptation from ogling at him. The top three buttons of his white shirt remained undone, which your eyes naughtily stopped particularly on his chest that was exposed at the gap of his cloth. You should pour holy water in your eyes after this and repent!

Adrian's chest was not overly muscular, nor was it so bulky that it puffed out of his body proportion. The firm shape of his chest complemented his overall soft look and delicate demeanor, as his tall body gave him a distinguished aura. Overall, his body proportion was trillions out of ten.

His bed hair appeared to be slightly messy, with several strands of his bangs covering his eyes, while others poking out of place. What a cutie pie. A very adorable guy and this guy was the love of your life.

'Stay strong my heart. You should already prepare yourself. This is not the first time for you to witness such heavenly scene! Yeah, it's a scene from heaven, there is no need of holy water'

"Y/N? Is it morning already?..." Adrian mumbled sleepily, leaning his body against the door frame, with his arms crossed which just exposed more of his chest. Di-did he just flexing his chest to you?!

"Sorry, for greeting you this way..." He apologised, his eyes still having a sleepy look to them as they drowsily wandered over to you.

No no no, this was Adrian, the soft, gentle guy that ever existed. Before you could droll over the sight any further, you trembly closed your eyes. Adrian deserved a respect especially on his privacy.

"Mo-morning, Adrian. Sorry for disturbing your sleep. I am much earlier than the other days. I've got to go to the market after this."

Maintaining your closed eyes, you held out the bouquet of flowers towards him. "This is the flowers for the person I always love. I handpicked it myself early this morning to give you only the best. With all my heart, I love you, Adrian." Again, you confessed to him for the uncountable times with no expectation for reciprocation.

"Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your feelings"

Adrian was about to take the flowers from you, but he noticed how you kept closing your eyes without looking at him properly. Your actions were unusual, as you usually had maintained solid eye contact with him during your interactions. His hands halted in mid-air as he observed your behavior, not knowing what was going on.

"Why are you closing your eyes, Y/N?" It was a genuine question that was out of concern and yet you flinched in panic as you could not bear to share your abnormal thoughts with your crush.

'Seeing Adrian in the morning is already a challenge but to view such a scene is something I'm never prepared to'

"It's for my own mental and physical health. There is no need to worry." Indeed, the best answer for the current situation was to make it as vague as you could, hoping that he would accept this explanation and not dig any deeper. However, Adrian was not such a guy to simply brushed everything off.

"Are you sick, Y/N?" Detecting a warm breath on your face, you instinctively opened your eyes and saw Adrian right in front of your face, looking at you worriedly. Immediately, you raised the flowers to filled the gap between both of yours faces as you took multiple steps back.

"I'm fine! Please, take this" Adrian's eyes widened, and he seemed surprised that you were literally blocking his view of you.

'No, I'm not! Ahhh, this is an opportunity to be closed with Adrian. Why did I take step backs out of reflection. You will get a punishment today legs.'

His fingers lightly graze over yours as he confusedly took the flowers while trying to figure you out. When he brought it closer to his chest, did you look at him properly back. He looked down at his chest area and found nothing odd at all.

Before you could bid him goodbye and take care of your pitiful throbbing heart, he asked a seemingly harmless question that triggered a terrible response from your heart.

"Y/N, could we go to the market together?"

Boomb! You heart had exploded from excitement.

>> CHAPTER 4

@d3sperate-enuf @sirenetheblogger

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suenoji · 8 months

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nerd!eren SUPREMACY!!! my favorite white boy! i wanna make a little series with him so bad… reblogs and feedback appreciated!

contains: just m!masturbation

nerd!’ren and reader took it slow when they first met. trips to the library, the icecream shop to get your favorite caramel and pralines double scoop. then his or your dorm when you two had to study some more. it was preferably done in your room, cause he just loved getting the chance to see what new things furnished your dorm. maybe another pillow? a fluffy crocheted blanket? some decor? a new candle. whatever it was it made him happy seeing you swell and overflow with joy.

you’d get all bouncy, dancing around your room on the tip of your toes. slipping off all your clothes till your in nothing but a tank top and some really short shorts with no panties. then eren proceeds with his usual. he goes to bathroom, he’s gotta piss or so he says. but really he’s just a weirdo, he stares at your hamper. eyes glazed and fixated on the black laced thong that sat at the top of the pile. he moves quickly. he plucks them from the top and balls it up in his hand. then he’s putting up to his nose, inhaling every inch of you relishing in the scent that gets him harder then ever. his back’s to the door and he’s tugging his sweats down. he’s gulping down his whimpers as his fists wraps around his cock. his thumb is shaky as he swipes it over his tip. translucent beads of precum pearl at his tip, and drip down his sides following the shape of each vein as they flow to the base of his cock. for the most part, he keeps himself trimmed, but he’s been so stressed with school it’s gotten a bit messy.

from the other side of your bathroom door you can hear him groaning. there’s a lewd air that permeates the door as the sound of his palm, wet and sticky against his cock, grows louder. your fingers don’t do enough to stimulate your clit. you feel like such a loser. why can’t you just open the door and tell him every time he comes over your pussy gets all sticky and that masturbation doesn’t quell the thought. seeing his print through his loser sweats, the brunette strands that travel down them. he’s a curse, a big freaking loser who you need in between your legs. but it only gets worse. you hear him groan your name and your stomach does flips. it’s not only your name, it’s the things he says after. like how he wants to put a baby in you, he wants to knock up the pretty girl who only cares about herself and her grades. he’s moaning about how he’d give you the best dick of your life if you’d give him a chance. you always look like you want to give him a chance too, so is he wrong for assuming so?

on the other side of the door, he’s dripping profusely. his knuckles are trembling as he milks himself, his tummy jerks with each pull. he’s thrusting his hips, fucking his hand and losing himself in the smell of you. then he gets the big idea to cum on your panties. his balls twitch from overstimulation, but his slit pulses as more cum trickles out into your panties. he pants weakly, ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ spew from his mouth. he’s hot, his dick won’t go down, and he made a fucking mess of your panties. you can hear him shuffling on the other side. you hear the turmoil, the disgust with himself for being such a whimp. “um, ‘ren? you okay in there?” you slightly shout as you step away from the door.

“yeah...ha- totally! i-i just made a little bit of a mess so i just have to clean up…a-around the sink…haha.” he’s damn awkward and such a terrible liar.

#eren jeager smut #eren jaeger x black reader smut #eren smut #eren x black reader #eren x you #eren yeager #eren aot #eren jaeger

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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OCTOBER 29TH. THE WINTER SOLDIER

“who the hell is bucky?”

♱ — eijirou kirishima + non-con/dub-con.

♱ — synopsis; he’s not a bad man, he promises you that. it doesn’t matter how many people he’s killed with his bare and metal hands…kirishima will make sure you know how sorry he is by the time he’s done with you.

♱ —length; 5.2K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, dark content, mentions of murder, assasinations, stalking, non-con to. dub-con, drugging, phallophilia, begging, manipulation, virginity loss, cherry chasing, power dynamics, breath play, temperature play, fingering ( fem!receiving ), strength!kink, softt fem!reader, yandere!kirishima, winter soldier!kirishima. not beta read !

♱ — notes; happy saturday angels!! we’re so close to the end of kinktober waaah!! i kinda like this one, it’s a bit dark so please be careful when reading !! check the warnings as well… tbh ive had kiri brain rot all this week, so this makes sense !! as usual, hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

people make mistakes every single day— they can be simple and mundane, like tiny little white lies when you forget something important to someone though it might hurt their feelings. the burn of embarrassment whenever you’d messed up in front of an entire class.

mistakes were common. everybody made them, eijirou kirishima made them— they were out of his control.

the winter soldier was a man lost in his own mind, watching his life go by behind vermillion eyes— taking others with hands that no longer loved or felt like his own. to them, hydra, his creators…kirishima was the ideal weapon, a blank canvas to turn into something sinister and evil. a good natured, strong man carved into the perfect shape to be a killer. behind his own soft, once expressive ruby eyes; eijirou was forced to watch the life drain from the corpses of others— people who had families waiting for them back home with home cooked meals they’d taken for granted, people with children they’d wished they’d raised right or friends that hadn’t quite forgiven them.

kirishima had heard it all, the pleas for him to let them live and do better right before they died by his hands in the most brutal way. each time he ended a life, a piece of his soul went with them, years internal torture following him like a dark fog— weighing down on him like heavy rainfall, soaking him to the bone with red. it’s caked against his skin, ingrained deep under his nails no matter how much he scrubs at them with a bar of soap and water.

death follows kirishima everywhere, aches in his bones and the creaking silver metal of the winter soldier’s arm. it was a curse, a burden that he couldn’t bare to carry on his shoulders— the serum in his veins like a poison that had stolen his memories, the happy soldier boy he used to be.

he hates the way people look at him now, breaking free from hydra— the sympathy shining in their eyes, he hates the way you look at him too. part of kirishima’s recovery, as suggested by his therapist, was to make amends with every person impacted by his crimes as the winter soldier, and you, the sweet girl next door were next.

kirishima killed your father years ago, before you could probably spell your own name without sounding it out— he had been a kind diplomat wanting nothing but peace. after his release from cyro, eijirou had tracked you down, only to discover he’d taken your mother’s life too, in a tampered car crash. you’d been alone ever since.

the winter soldier had taken a happy childhood from you, made you the cute little recluse next door who hid in her stuffy parchment scented apartment— with books stacked high, romance your favourite genre, what you found your fantasies in. kirishima couldn’t deny the way his heart fluttered, but guilt edged itself over the expanse of his brain whenever you pitied him in the coridoors between your tiny rented apartments ( though from his recent hero work and inheritance from captain america, he could probably afford to buy tha building out ). your shiny doe eyes would pity him, see the pain in the winter soldier’s own as well as that breaking in the vibranium laced in the arm that wasn’t really his.

in his one hundred plus years of living, kirishima had probably been on more dates than you had knowledge on boys and the reality of romance in general.

you’d been made that way because of eijirou.

because of the winter solider.

and he would make it up to you, he would. it was a promise and the least he could do.

years of training had made it easy for kirishima to slip into your apartment that night— silly you, poor little you for having left your window wide open, letting the bulky ex assassin slip through as if he was a silent Siamese cat being welcomed home. footsteps carrying no sound effortlessly slipped into your bedroom just for a peek at you.

kirishima could have watched you forever, drawn to the way your lips twitch as you sleep and your eyes screw shut even tighter as if you’re being drowned in your own worst nightmare. you’re adorable.

you have no idea what’s about to come next.

it makes the winter soldier’s cock twitch beneath his clothing, leaking fat globs of precum against his inner thighs. he aches to be inside of you, feel you blossom around him like a flower in the spring for the first time— ‘cause god you’re so innocent and inviting.

there’s an instinctual chill down your spine, one that breaks you from your heavy slumber and has your shooting up— doe eyes wide like a deer in headlights while you search for the figure that had been looming over you in the dark. “e-eiji?” your whisper sits hoarse in your throat, voice laced with cute little wisps of sleep, the nickname you’d given him shooting straight to his erection. “what are you doing here?”

“oh nothin’,” eijirou lies, “just the neighbourly thing and asking for a cup of sugar?” the smile that he gives you is quick, not quite reaching his eyes that usually hold such kindness… there’s something off about kirishima tonight, something that makes you feel sick to your stomach and makes you want to run.

you can’t scramble from the sheets fast enough, for the winter soldier has been trained to move faster— bulky arms swinging around your waist before your feet even hit the floor, throwing you back into feathery pillows of your bed despite your kicks and screams. it’s frightful how kirishima can just manhandle you any way that he wishes, using the bulk of his body to get you onto your stomach like it’s nothing, like the winter soldier would and not your soft, mellow companion who laughs with his gut and grins with the ruby in his eyes. the one who pulled you out of your house for walks to the library late at night.

this version of the man who lives next door, who told you he was recovering from war wounds long before your time, growls deeply as he grabs you by the back of you throat and tugs your head to rest on his shoulder— breathing deep from where you’ve put up a fight, hissing from where your trimmed nails scratch at his one good and fleshy arm. “don’t fight it, please,” he comments, nosing under your earlobe, breathing in the scent of vanilla and money milk from your body wash. “i just want to make it up to you, for what i did to your parents. for taking your childhood away from you.”

hairs on your neck stand on end, you don’t know if it’s from the mention of your dead relatives or from the way kirishima’s belt clinks as if he’s been undoing it— his metal hand, the perfect killing weapon, folds coolly against your neck and with one wrong move it could crush your windpipe in a second. “e-eijirou what are you—?” you stutter, voice spiking with fear, lodged in the dry ridges of your throat. “m-my parents—“ eyes widening, the realisation hits, you know exactly what he means.

you know that it’s him who murdered them.

“baby,” the winter soldier coos as you thrash dangerously in his grip, a second away from having your neck snapped. lunging forward, your hot and teary face is stuffed into the pillows to the point where you almost can't breathe, kirishima straddling your hips while simultaneously pushing more of his clothes away. “‘m sorry… s-sorry for what i did to you.” for what he’s doing to you— pushing your flimsy nightshirt up your back, over the curve of your fleshy ass.

a pleaful whimper lays on your sweet lips, tears welling in your eyes as you practically scream for the ‘hero’ to get off of you— let you go. you’re devastated, trust betrayed by a friend you thought you’d made, a friend now using your body for his own selfish gain. the red head squeezes at the flesh now exposed to his heated hungry stare, running his metal arm over your curves, precious thighs and cute ass—revelling in the way your entire body reacts just for him, goosebumps rising across your back like chicken skin.

“you’ll forgive me, right?” he goes on, words broken up by shuddered breaths as eijirou’s metal fingers slip between your thighs from behind— spreading apart pretty pussy lips that glimmer with slick, evidence to you of your body’s betrayal , but to him of anticipation, excitement. forgiveness. “just wanna make it up to you,” he murmurs almost empathetically, voice thick with lust— it feels like the war hero is making fun of you, pinning you down against your will between muscular thighs. “i’ll make it feel so good, baby. promise. i’ll make it worth your while, make you forgive me.”

tears are hot on your cheeks, burning down the apples of them in salty tracks— you don’t want this, you don’t want him, the man who supposedly gave his life to save Captain America, to take something so precious to you. your virginity— not after finding out he killed your parents in cold blood. you feel almost sick for having found kirishima attractive before, for dreaming of situations a little similar to now, where you’d cry out his name as he made love to you and made you feel seen. eijirou mistakes the wince of your body as he circles a cold digit around your tiny entrance for a twitch of pleasure, grinning to himself as he adds a thumb to your clit to draw slow, salacious circles around the swelling nub— the coldness sending shockwaves up your spine.

it feels nice, good— but that doesn’t make you resist it any less, make you want him anymore. small whispers of ‘p-please eiji—‘ hiccuped into the sheets soaked with both your arousal and tears. a fresh wave of unexpected slick gushes from your virgin cunt when kirishima slaps his bare cock against the length of your slit, as if he’s going to take you with little to no preparation. he’s big, throbbing and soaked with his own milky arousal, his veins fitting snug between your pussy lips, fat and blue while his tip blares an angry shade of red.

if this were any other time, you’d be happy to have your mouth water— filling with thick drool at the thought of having the winter soldier’s massive girth split you open and be your first. yet, as eijirou grinds his meaty cock into your filthy, embarrassingly soaked virgin mound, you remember that he’s not so nice. trapping you between strong thighs, a metal arm and a frightening snarl.

“eijirou please—“ you try again, wiggling your hips to get away from him as he ruts his achy tip through your sweet lips, bumping your clit, until he reaches right between your ass cheeks. “p-please don’t do this. i’ll…i’ll do anything you want! i’ll forgive you!”

“jus’ let me do this,” the winter soldier slurs over the spit pooling on his tongue, dazed by the way the clear strings of your juices cling to every vein of his cock— make it shine even in the dark. kirishima feels feverish, the scent of your innocent cunt driving him insane, on the brink of forgetting his mission— making it up to you. sweat drips from his hairline, even though he’s barely started, hitting the small of your back. “it’ll be okay, she’s… your pussy… she’s dripping for me.” he says like he’s in disbelief, grabbing hold of his dick and nuzzling it against your swollen pleasure nub to hear you whine like a pretty bird song. “she wants this, you want this. i’ll do what’s right, make it up to you.”

tiny fingers grip the blankets below as kirishima makes a move to push his precum loaded cockhead past your tight little entrance, moaning breathily while hunched over you. you’re sure you’ve bitten your lip to the point of bleeding, red and raw at the slightly painful intrusion of the winter soldier’s dick past your virgin entrance. “‘shima,” you shake your head, watery eyes stinging. “it hurts,” you add weakly.

pulling back with a deep groan, eijirou runs his human hand through his sweaty mane. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you more— add to the heartache of losing your parents. “fuck baby...didn’t mean to hurt ya, we’ll try something else okay?” it’s almost sick how kind he sounds, even if there’s a wobble to what he says. there’s a shift behind you, and you almost miss the heat of his cock against you, only for it to be replaced with the frozen temperatures of his vibranium fingers prodding against your spasming hole.

against your own will, your thighs twitch apart instinctively— making room for kirishima between them as he circles the rim of your entrance, living up his fingers with the salacious pool of your arousal before pushing against the resistance of your unclaimed walls. “stay still baby, s’gonna sting for a bit,” he comments, choking on a depraved, corrupt gasp at how warm you are inside. the redhead stuffs you full of two fingers, sliding them into you with the aid of your honeyed cunt, and immediately scissors them, curling them to map and get a feel of your velvet walls.

you’re untouched territory, an empty playground of innocence and purity and now…kirishima’s for the taking. he’ll teach you things, he thinks while stretching open your hot little cunt to prepare you for his cock. he’ll teach you real pleasure, real love, all the things you missed out on after he ruined your life.

“eiji—!“ your cry is needy, amorous as you claw at your pink pillow cases, hips jutting back clumsily at the first shocks of ecstasy to flitter into your blood stream. you’ve never felt like this before.

“how’s this, baby? better than before?” the winter soldier drawls, practically as needy as you with a pout on his lips, red brows furrowed in concentration for making amends with you and your pretty pussy. his gaze of blood rubies falls to how your creamy sex sucks in his two metal digits, pressing coldly against new spots inside of you, curled against spongey walls until you’re cross eyed and the room spins.

“s’oh my god,” comes your muffled, sweet grouse— the adorable sound tearing in your throat. “s’better… oh, eiji!”

he needs you to understand that this is all for you, every calculated drag of his thumb over your sticky swelling clit, every stroke of his vibranium fingers rapaciously pumping in and out of succulent unused mound is meant to bring you to the high heavens and help you forgive him. kirishima’s chest swells with pride knowing he’s the first to have you like this, seeing you clamp down on him as he pleasures you, thumb glued to your little nub, writing apologies into it. “i need you to know, baby,” he says in awe of how you take him, even if you squirm and pretend to resist. “that ‘m so sorry, that i’ll do my best t’take care of you like this…”

a weird feeling in your lower belly starts to build up, in slow stacks like building a house from the beginning— all of the new sensations that come with it having distracted you from the reality of the situation. you can’t trust the winter soldier anymore, not to protect you and not to look out for you— especially when he’s ravaging your puffy pussy while pinning you in place. you hate that it feels good, making your brain tingle and happy hormones crash across it in heavy waves but you can’t help it. your hips buck back onto eijirou’s fast paced fingers which move along your slippery walls at an impressive speed, collecting your juices in the seat of his silver palm.

somewhere, a voice in the back of your head tells you to scream and cry and kick eijirou off— but all you can do is whimper and whine for more as he whispers sinisterly sweet nothings into the shell of your ear. ‘is this enough, baby?’ he’d sigh. ‘can you take more?’ or ‘i hope this makes it up to you’, each candied word sending sparks of ecstasy down your spine and flutters through your darling cunt while eijirou moulds you to take his cock.

“need ya to cum for me sweetheart, you’ve taken me so well,” he chuckles from behind you, gentle as his fingertips brush against your g-spot. the praises are warm, familiar to the real eijirou kirishima you know lives next door. before you knew the harm he’d done to your family. “can you do that for me, please? then i can fill you up so good, make you truly forgive me. please baby— i fuckin’ need it.” there’s an air desperation about the big burly man finger fucking you to his hearts content, and you think that if you let him keep talking— if you give him this, he might leave you alone.

“i think—‘shima, it feels weird…t-think ‘m gonna c-cum?” you squeak, unsure despite the impending feeling of the rope twisting in your lower tummy that burns as thick metal digits curl against your gummy insides, doused in your syrupy juices. kirishima doesn’t let up, breathing ragged from behind you as he jackhammers his fingers deep inside of you until his palm smacks against your bubbly ass with every stroke.

he seems pleased as your thighs begin to shake violently, the grip your angel cunt has on him tightening while his shameless stare shoots down to where your limbs meet and you ooze onto him. “let it go baby, you’re gonna feel so good, lemme see, i wanna see you cum,” eijirou damn near begs in a delighted and devoir sigh. a scream rips through your body, dwarfed beneath the size of the super solider as the winding cord in your tummy finally breaks its tension— the pressure that had been building inside of you coming crashing down and your orgasm tearing through you, spilling in clear liquid from your sticky and squelching sex. your teary and dazzling doe eyes screw shut, rolling back into your skull while you release, tainting your folds with a sugar glaze shine— the sweetest treat in the world to kirishima being making you feel good.

he doesn’t relent on your poor pussy as you shake throughout your very first high, stealing the precious moment from you and any future partner who might really love you— who’s not obsessed with the idea of your forgiveness. eijirou thumbs fast and cruel shaped into your raw clit, overstimulating you until the stream of your release stops seeping through the bedsheets. “good girl, such a good girl,” he hums, slowly pulling out of you while you spasm through the aftershocks of cumming for the first time. “stay here, kay? ‘m gonna get something before we have you try ‘n take my cock.”

the weight of the winter soldier eases off of you, letting air fill your lungs and a clear conscious return to you.

you wait until his footsteps are no longer audible to make your move, shooting up from the bed with no time to think about how sick your favourite hero is— for thinking you’ll forgive the deaths of the people you love most in exchange for him taking away your precious purity.

but you don’t have time to make a run for it, tackled to the bed once more by the stronger, trained killer. “i thought i told you to stay put,” kirishima snarls at you like you’re meek prey to him, forgetting his manners and his mission. “don’t you listen, baby? this is all for you,”

“i don’t want you!” comes your bratty little yell ( at least to the winter soldier ), who only throws you back onto the bed in the same position you were before— sitting heavy on your waist with your face shoved into the sheets. “please eijirou, l-let me go! i won’t tell anyone what you did! i’ll keep quiet! i’ll—“ your words fall away as eijirou grabs you by the back of the neck and you feel a sharp pinprick to your side. “w-what was that?”

a wooziness takes over you, calming your brain like it did when eijirou was making you feel good. “‘m sorry, i didn’t want to have to use it,” he says with what feels like faux sympathy. “but you just wouldn’t listen!” the redhead eases you down onto the bed once more, it’s a little something that’ll make accepting my apology a little easier, baby. so you stop squirming, so it hurts a little less. now be good, yeah?”

“y-yeah, okay,” you reply, slow blinking as your body begins to accept its fate.

using the remnants of your previous orgasm, kirishima slicks himself up again, running the meat of his shaft along the length of your quivering pussy— sending hormones of lust dancing across your brain. you can’t see him; but kirishima’s cheeks are flushed with unadulterated desire, his gaze swimming each time he taps the head of his cock against your souse pulsating hole. “gonna fuck you so good, gorgeous, don’t you worry.” he says, words a little too rushed and too eager, and without warning, the war hero’s hips jump forward to drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex, fully lubed up with all your piquant juices.

eijirou is bigger than you’d dreamed off before all of this, weighty against the stickiness lining your unclaimed, gummy walls. you can feel every brown wrapped pretty around his girth pressing into pleasure spots you’ve not even had a chance to discover for yourself. his breath is shaky and uneven, prickling at your ears despite the static that crackles across your brain— from lust or from the drug you can’t even tell.

“i wanna move, baby,” the winter soldier gasps, wavering and hips stilling just as he reaches the hilt. this is the least he could do for you, try to be gentle as he completes this last mission— takes your virginity. in all these years of training for hydra, kirishima has never exercised such restrained, barely keeping himself together with every flutter of your sex and ripple of heat from your body around his cream soaked dick. “so tight, you need to be fucked. you need me, s’gonna be okay baby…just lemme take you.”

against your better judgement, the voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to fight back— you roll your ass back to meet kirishima’s hips, pushing your searing cunt further onto his girth as if to coax him to move until eijirou is completely bottomed out and balls deep inside, oozing sweet nectar down his thighs and balls alike. “p-please,” you slur cutely, hating your body for wanting him so bad after everything he’s done to you. “w-wanna forgive you,”

that’s all the motivation the winter soldier needs to go through with it all, you yelp at the pure strength he possesses in manhandling you into the perfect arch— all of his weight dropping onto you with his caramel and sweaty chest pressing to your back. a pathetic hiccup escapes you when kirishima simultaneously latches onto your neck and pulls his cock from you, using teeth and tongue, lolling the pink muscle over your skin, decorating you with lovebites you won’t be able to hide from nosey onlookers. in one powerful thrust, he’s filling you back up to the brim— all the way up in your guts until you feel him in your tummy, making you feel dwarfed by the super soldier above you.

with what little energy you have left, still doped up from whatever he spiked you with— you rock your hips back onto eijirou, letting your cute and ravaged cunt suck more of him into your warmth and aiding him in building up a steady pace to his thrusts.

the bed starts to groan and creak beneath the force of the redhead now brutally ploughing into you— precum in fat drops smearing against your ripe and fertile walls that feel like home to his hardened length. your pussy blossoms for the man like a flower in a spring bloom, ready for the taking, ready for kirishima. only he could do this for you, teach you what seeing stars look like, drag you to cloud nine. it was the least he could do for you, and it made his dick twitch knowing that you were starting to accept him— clenching down on his mushroomed tip ever time it pulls out of you with a wet pop.

you stretch painfully over his creamy cock, though you feel like you’re on cloud nine— overwhelmed with a ravenous ecstasy that shoots from your brain to the tips of your toes, right through the heartbeat in your pussy. “feel amazin’ baby, oh that’s right, take me so fucking well,” eijirou whispers into the skin of your shoulder over sentimentally, the heat of his breath clinging to the sex in the air. his large palms drop to the globes of your ass— pulling them wide apart to spit between them and getting an enticing view of his dick lewdly plunging in and out of your perfect virgin hole. “that’s it…you like this don’t you, you like me doing this to you…”

your mind says no but you can’t help but hump back onto him, still growing used to the burning pleasure as eijirou pushes in and out of you. “y-yes eiji, i-i like it,” he barely leaves your tight heat, with the little proximity between your saltine sweat slicked bodies, prodding at that special spot inside of you that makes you gush sweet nectar.

you hope it’s the drug talking, every time you coo and cry out for the winter soldier— limp body taking the godspeed pace he moves at, filling you up each and every time. “‘h’baby, you really mean that?” metal fingers crawl up your spine, encapsulating your throat as if he can’t crush it within a second. he tugs your head back with a cool grip into a heated kiss, forcing his tongue over yours, mouths slotting together and sharing moans. “never meant for it to be like this, never gonna—fuck… cause you harm e’ver again, yeah?” kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does in addiction, the handsome soldier succumbing to the mindbreak your gratifying, ichorous cunt had to offer him while he tucks into you.

“yeah…s’okay. o-oh! eijirou!” comes your brainless babble, your sanity falling into a cock-drunk state. eijirou’s own mind is as foggy as yours, plagued by thoughts of painting you white inside and relieving you of his burden— teaching you pleasure, teaching you sin. the slow roll of your hips back onto his mingle with the harsh slap of skin on skin, wet and crude, and hanging nastily in the air.

there’s barely any oxygen for you to breathe between it all— kirishima rhythmically squeezing at the bruised column of your throat in tune with surging hips, assaulting your poor g-spot. “jus relax baby, go’ta sleep,” you swear you think you hear him say when you grow even more light headed. “lemme take care of you.”

he had no idea your little meek mewls could drive him this far up the wall, or that he’d want you to himself even after taking your virginity. kirishima sucks on the pulse point under your ear to sedate himself, keeping you locked in place with his metal arm— licking the beads of sweat from the side of your face while his free hand wraps itself in the fabric of your sweat soaked night shirt and uses it to tug you back onto his aching, pulsating dick.

his sloppy groans echo throughout the lost purity of your bedroom, no longer a safe place— but now a reminder of how your body betrayed you, swaying in a taboo dance with the winter soldier as a crude mix of your arousals swing between both of your sore thighs. “i gotta cum baby, please lemme cum,” eijirou huffs breathily into your ear, grabbing you by the ass while he shifts to his knees and using the pure strength of the super soldier serum and his bionic arm to lift you up and down on his cock, forcing you to match his pace in frantic, hungry movements. “need to cum, need’a make it up to ya, please—oh fuckin’ fuck!”

“e-eiji!” you sob, reaching back to dick crescent moons into his fleisher arm that holds you up— letting the winter soldier fuck into you at his own will. “slow down! please!”

he shakes his head, red locks damp and sticking to his forehead as he tucks his face into the back of your shoulder. “c-can’t, need you close too. ‘m gonna cum,” he tells you, whining profligately— the ex assassin revelling in the way you drip thickly down his balls, heavy with cum, the lewd pap pap pap of your sexes moving together creating a song that echoes in the sex tainted air, matching up perfectly with your erotic choreographed routine against the sheets, tainted with your arousals. “gotta get’cha close, are you there gorgeous? that feeling in your tummy back?”

you nod, simpering out for more even though your brain is too misted to keep up with what’s happening— lust coursing through your veins with whatever drug the winter soldier has put in your system. but the feeling is barely there, and you writhe against kirishima for more…even if you hate it, even if you’re not so sure you hate it anymore.

sleeping with the man that murdered your parents.

however, you don’t need to ask for more, eijirou’s metal fingers releasing your throat and allowing you to breathe again— sliding over your clothed, pebbled nipples and down the softness of your stomach before they coldly reach your hot cunt. they toy with your swollen clit between your throbbing, puffy folds to guide you over the edge once more.

two orgasms for the two people you’d lost.

your second high of the night comes crashing over you in a sudden wave, rendering you even more weak and useless than before— you seize up, trapping kirishima inside your soaked cunt as you gush like a sweet flowing river once more. the red head follows suit, his cock pulsing while his cream lines your raw and abused walls. he doesn’t ever let up, pushing his seed further along your walls until both of you collapse into the bed with exhaustion. your hole burns, cum seeping from your entrance as you swear kirishima feels even bigger when his dick is swollen with his orgasm.

“i’m sorry,” he says hoarsely once you’ve both calmed down— but your mind is running a mile a minute, fuzzy and lagging with a combination of your high and the drugs in your system. “‘m so sorry baby,”

“it’s okay,” you whisper back, eyes fluttering with sleep again.

though you’re not sure what you’re forgiving the winter soldier for this time.

taking your parents, or taking your innocence.

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sweetienans · 2 months

Text

Lonesome || R. Cameron

Summary

"What are you going to do with all the money?" Rafe followed you to the store that he didn't even know it was there. Stores in the cut were a new world to him.

"What are you talking about? I don't have any money" You said grabbing some apples and peaches.

"I know you do, or you will do" He reached your lower back trying to gain your attention but you slapped his hands out of it.

"Don't touch me. Rafe I swear to god I don't know what are you talking about. Are you high or something?" You tried to look to his eyes to see if they were dilated but they were the normal blue and tinted green as always.

"I heard my dad talking with one of his lawyers yesterday" he looked straight to your eyes to try to see if you were lying to him. You weren't. "Your mother is dead, and she left you all of her wealth"

Nothing ever happened. No gold, no cross, no El Dorado. Everything followed the normal course. Except for you. Your mother died, not that you actually care. She never raised you. She never appeared until now when apparently she was rich and left you all of it. You didn't want to know anything about the money even though you needed it. And if it wasn't for Rafe, you wouldn't even check the numbers on your bank account. He has a plan, a plan that he would do anything to achieve even if he has to use you.

Pairing: Rafe cameron x reader.

Warnings: use/mention of alcohol, mention of drugs, smut eventually but will be labeled. Violence (jj's father) Ward is still a bad father. 18+ MDNI!

wc: idk

see Pt. 1

Pt.2

You paced through your room all night. Going back and forth with your phone in your hand. What would you do? That was a huge amount of money in your bank account but in a way it didn’t feel like it was yours. You would like to be in another situation where you were mourning your near passed mom but there you were, keeping something you deserved all your life but you were never given. It kinda sucked. And it sucked more than you had to know it because of Rafe.

You fell asleep near four in the morning and didn’t wake up until 1pm where you felt the door slightly slamming in the entry clicking shut right after.

“Hey sweetie” your dad peaked through your open door. His clothes were all muddy and had traces of dirt in his head. “I’m sorry I disappeared”

On a normal day you would scold him for not even calling but right now you had a turmoil in your stomach that you couldn’t bear.

“It’s okay, I’m glad you’re here” you said laying on your side. He nodded and then left you to yourself again, the sound of the shower being on sounded above your thoughts.

You were quickly to take your phone and start typing the news to JJ but when you were writing the text you started wondering, was it a good idea? Would you even keep the money? you deleted it and instead wrote a ‘hope you have a good day with John B’ message.

You scrolled through your socials, incapable of thinking in getting up when a text from Sarah popped up.

‘Kook party in the night, you coming?’ Meet me at Tannyhill so we can go together’

It wasn’t a lie that you were considered one of the good pogues, you were good friends with Sarah Cameron, Rafe’s sister and even his friends were good to you. You didn’t understand why but you were always invited and welcomed in their parties.

You thought about the party and decided that it was a good idea to show up, to clear your mind and do normal teenage stuff before having to worry about the elephant in the room. Telling your dad, telling your friends that in the span of night to morning you were practically a new Kook. It wasn’t your fault.

You went to the shower and dressed up to go with Sarah. She didn’t give you much information about the party so you decided to put on a yellow sundress that had the neck v-shaped and your white snickers. You put on some makeup, basically tons of blush, mascara and gloss and went to your dad’s room to tell him that you were going out.

He was face down in his mattress sleeping like he never slept in his life. You decided to leave a note that you knew he wouldn’t read.

You left your house closed and walked the rocky path to the main street that was basically a highway. Your car wasn’t functioning so you made all your trips walking, it was a long way to Tannyhill but you didn’t mind.

The gates of Tannyhill opened in front of your figure. The house was massive, it was the biggest house in figure eight all because of Ward’s effort. Something to look up to, to be honest.

“Girl! you look amazing” Sarah appeared hanging from the side of the porch’s door. “I just have to do my makeup and we can get going, did you walk all the way from your house to here?” she asked, giving you a side hug.

“Yeah, it’s part of my exercise routine,” you said sarcastically. “My car broke down again so the legs had to do the job”

“That’s awful, you want a glass of water?” She didn’t even wait for your answer to reach one of the glasses in the higher cabinet above the sink just to fill it with water.

“Thanks” you said following the blonde to her room. You’ve been up there many times. Sarah was your best friend, beside JJ, the boys and Kie, even though the latter didn’t understand why. “So, where’s this party? Topper 's again?”

“Oh no, after we left last week, some punks wrote shit on the living room walls, his mom got furious with him,” Sarah explained, putting some eyeliner in the corner of her eyes.

“Did they know who did it?”

“Mm no, I mean, there were only Topper’s friends” she just shrugged and turned around to face you. “What do you think?” She said giving you a full look of her outfit and makeup.

“What can I say of the Kook Princess?” you said, rolling your eyes. “You look gorgeous, Topper is going to die when he sees you”

She made a subtle grin but her eyes darted away like she was hiding something. You would ask, eventually.

When Sarah parked her car, you expected a good looking house, not a beach with a bonfire on it. You made a mental note to never forget your cardigan again.

“Pogue style?” You asked to make her shiver. She hated the tumultuous fight between pogues and kooks, and you could understand why, but most people couldn’t.

“Topper house is out of the party market, Kelce’s family from California is staying in his house for the weekend and well Tannyhill is just unapproachable when dad and Rose are there” She explained locking up the car and walking through the sand.

You walked to her side, waving some familiar faces together but keep walking until you made your way to Topper.

“Hey pretty ladies” he said in a smug tone kissing Sarah’s cheek. “I thought you wouldn't make it” he said fetching some red solo cups and filling them with beer (the expensive one)

The difference between pogue beach parties was clearly the cheap beer and that the cops would show up eventually in the night. This was a private beach and people could do what they pleased without having to worry about being incarcerated.

“Thanks” you said to Topper receiving the cup and downing half of it in one gulp. You needed it, you needed the fun and to keep things out of your mind for a while.

“Easy” Topper said in a surprised warning. “There’s plenty more”

“Leave her alone, I’m the one driving anyway” Sarah said pouring her beer in your glass.

The party went without any problems. People were dancing, some of them were making out and Sarah was nowhere to be seen. You were sitting in a big log beside the fire when a guy that you have never seen sat by your side.

“Hey” he said in a charming way. You cringed on the inside but nodded anyway to his side. “I’m new here, what’s your name?” He scooted over the log and pressed his thigh to yours, completely invading your personal space.

That must've been the worst way to flirt with anyone. You took a sip from your drink and cleared your voice to reject him in a nice way.

“I’m-

“Not interested”

You turned around to his voice. Rafe's tall figure lingered above yours stepping and blocking the light from the fire making him look terrifying.

“She’s definitely out of your reach so why don’t you go somewhere else” he said waving his hand to the guy and urging him to leave your side.

You had a new feeling in your stomach, like the beer was settling in wrong.

“I got it under control” you said watching him walk and take the seat of the guy. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt, those that are white and had the sleeves in another color, this was green and his cap was backwards making him look more handsome than he already was.

“Yeah, I can tell” He said, taking your cup from your hands and gulping all the content down. “What about we talk business?

“Jesus” you muttered under your breath and prepared yourself to lift but before you could do the push he circulated his hand around your wrist. “What did I tell you yesterday? I’m not interested”

“I know you received the money” he said looking straight into your eyes, there was no way to deny it. He always had like a sixth sense. “And I also know that you don’t know what to do with it”

“Look, spending it on coke so you can double the amount it’s not a good idea to me to be honest” you said plainly.

“You are not giving me a chance” He said like he was hurt because of your words.

“I don’t even know you Rafe”

“You’ve been Sarah’s friend for a while, you know me enough”

“You just said it, Sarah’s friend, not yours” you specified.

“That hurt” he put one of his hands on his chest and you rolled your eyes. “I thought you had feelings but this..

“Please, cut the bullshit” You were done and ready to leave.

“Just invest with me and I promise you won't regret it” he said pleading, puppy eyes and all.

“Invest with you? or invest in you?” you crossed your arms. “Because for why I understand in the first you have to put money too”

“I’ll do it if that makes you feel safe” He answered like it was nothing.

“You are something else Rafe Cameron, but no, I won’t, I don’t trust you” you took your cup from his hands and left him all alone with the words between his lips. He wasn’t going to give up so easily.

Rafe Cameron was a man of his word and mind. If he had an idea (even a bad one) he would do anything to reach it and make it true. He needed the money to seal a deal with Barry and Ward got him on a leash lately, cutting him loose, so he had nothing, just the two dollars that you threw at him in the store the other day.

He was going to convince you but apparently not tonight, because even though you had been right, you weren’t even friends with him, telling him that you didn’t trust him broke something on the inside, so he drank, and drank and drank until he couldn’t even get on his feet.

“Have you seen Sarah?” you asked one of the girls that was dropped in her knees grabbing his friends hair so she can puke.

“No, go away!” she yelled at you and you thought that you deserved it, bad time to ask.

This wasn’t the first time that you’ve lost Sarah in a party, she would usually sneak around with Topper but she would always pick you up later. Right now, her car wasn’t in the spot she parked and there were no Topper or Sarah in sight.

You kept walking around the cars, looking for someone familiar to give you a ride but you didn’t know any of them. You were about to call JJ for backup knowing very well that he will get angry at you for coming to this party when you saw Rafe leaned against his car trying to get inside.

“You gotta be kidding me” you said, grabbing his shoulders to make his eyes snap open. “Have you lost your mind? you can’t drive this way”

His disoriented eyes, alcohol breath and languid body said that he was more than wasted. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open to look at you. You searched for his keys that were in his hand and snatched it.

“I’m going to drive okay?” you said wiggling the keys in front of his head. “I need you to lean on me so I can open the door and get you inside, Rafe”

“Am I dreaming?” he murmured in your shoulder while you put one of his arms behind your shoulders to keep him steady on his feet. “This is much more of what I asked”

“Tell me about it” you said, manhandling him towards the passenger seat. “How did you end up like this, honestly the booze wasn’t even that good” you talked more to yourself than to him, he was a pure excuse of a man in that state.

“My heart is broken” he said while looking at you with his eyes half opened while you stretched yourself to put his seatbelt on.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to know Rafe,” you said, closing his door and walking to the driver’s side.

“Then don’t ask stupid questions” he said pouting and crossing his arms over his chest the moment you closed your door.

You were good to drive and the way to Tannyhill wasn’t even that long, you would crash in Sarah’s bed and leave in the morning when the sun rises .

“Invest with me please” he mumbled. You thought that he would’ve fallen asleep if you didn’t talk but he didn't. He was partially awake and ready to keep pushing it.

“I’m not gonna, I already told you, drop it” you said turning to the road that leads to figure eight.

“No, no, wait” he said, grabbing the steering wheel with one hand and turning to the opposite direction.

He hit the curve in the road and one of the cars that were passing by almost crashed against a light pole. “Fuck Rafe! Don’t do that again!” you said pressing the brake and parking on the side. “I was going to drop you at your place, what’s your problem?”

“Let’s go to yours, my dad doesn’t want me there” he said, starting the car again urging you to start driving, giving you zero options.

“What about Kelce’s or Topper’s?” you asked, finding an option that wasn’t your house, even though it was pretty convenient to you to be in your place and having no need to walk back from someone's house.

“Topper is with my sister I don’t fucking care where and Kelce’s house is crowded, you can leave me with Barry if you want” he said closing his eyes again.

You knew better than going to Barry’s. The man sold drugs to JJ's father and he was constantly hanging there, so, if he saw you there with Rafe, JJ and your father would know and they won’t stop asking for the truth.

You were against a wall, figuratively speaking. No choice at all.

“Fine, let’s go to my place”

author's note: Rafe is coming babyyy. I'm excited, i'm not going to lie. Let me know that you think.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x smut #obx fic #rafe imagine #outer banks

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