#and chest hair.. life is good life is so so good

[woso-dreamzzz]

Loud

Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: You and Mapi have always been loud

*TW: referenced sexual content*

It starts off with you and Mapi.

You’d grown up together, fallen in love under the slide at school when Mapi pushed over annoying Matty P for pulling on your pigtails. She’d been your knight in…well not really shining armour but definitely your knight in shining shoes.

You did everything together. Eating. Sleeping. Playing football.

You were attached at the hip and then Ingrid came along.

A tall Norwegian woman who had your jaw falling to the ground and Mapi nearly walking into a pole.

Opening up your relationship wasn’t new to the pair of you. At first, it had just been sex but sex spiralled into a third in the relationship and that usually ended up in a breakup.

But not with Ingrid.

You’d opened up your bed for her, already weak at the knees the moment she took her clothes on and very bluntly told you and Mapi to put on a show for her.

And you’d certainly done that.

You’d put on enough of a show that she’d taken you both that night, in all the positions you liked and ended it all with you and Mapi holding hands over Ingrid’s stomach as you lazily kissed while your heads rested on her chest, her hands gently stroking both of your hairs.

And, like always, sex spiralled into a relationship but the breakup never came.

Ingrid fit so perfectly into you life and your relationship, adored by you, Mapi and Bagheera. Two princesses in the house to spoil and love, although one of them never got to travel with you much to everyone’s disappointment.

“You’ve got something there!” Mapi declares, her voice booming loudly across the dining hall and you look up from your plate.

You were deep in discussion with some of the others but you stop immediately to turn to look at Mapi.

Your table is nearly full, just one seat empty next to you. Ingrid sits on your other side, talking softly to Frido while Esmee and Aitana talk next to them and Alexia and Irene sit opposite.

“What?!” You yell back.

Mapi’s across the room from you, still at the buffet and trying to fill up her plate with food that looks like it’s going to tumble onto the floor any minute now.

“You’ve got something on your face!” Mapi replies, her voice just as loud and clear as before.

You frown, wiping your face with a napkin but seeing no kind of staining as you pull it away. You frown.

“Did I get it?!”

Mapi doesn’t even need to come closer to answer. “No!”

“Where is it?!”

“Do you have to yell?” Irene gripes good-naturedly but you and Mapi are so loud that you don’t even register her talking.

A hand grips your chin though. Ingrid’s slender fingers angle your face towards her and you go willingly. She moves your face around, eyes narrowed as she tries to see what Mapi had so clearly seen from across the room.

“There’s nothing,” Ingrid says, leaning forward to press a flutter of kisses onto your lips,” I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Mapi’s silly,” You agree.

“Mapi’s loud,” You hear Frido complain.

“They’re both loud,” Ingrid says over her shoulder though her eyes stay on you.

You fight to keep the blush off your face.

You and Mapi are both loud, something Ingrid is intimately familiar. You’re loud on the pitch and off the pitch and definitely in bed, though the only other person in the team that knows that is Ingrid.

She seemed to thrive on it, to make you and Mapi moan louder and louder. She took it as a challenge, to string as much pleasure out of both of you until you’re just a crescendo trying to come back down.

But nobody else knew that was what Ingrid was referencing and you fight to keep your face turning bright red.

Ingrid’s hand drops from your face to take your own under the table and you smile as you pick your fork up again.

“I haven’t got anything on my face!” You tell Mapi as she sits down next to you. “Hey! Don’t take my food!”

You swat at Mapi’s grabby hands but Ingrid’s tug on your other one has you stopping.

“Sharing is caring!” Mapi laughs and you stick your tongue out,” And you’ve still got it on your face.”

“I haven’t got anything on my face!”

Mapi leans closer and crashes her lips against yours.

“You had my lips on your face,” She teases, tapping your nose with her finger,” I could see them from a mile away!”

You laugh at that, the head thrown back kind of laugh as you and Mapi snicker together. Even Ingrid, consistently the quietest member of your relationship, lets out a little chuckle.

“Come on,” Irene groans,” You’re telling me you enjoyed that?”

“Mapi’s jokes are funny!” You defend, still laughing and Irene rolls her eyes fondly.

Honestly, you thought she would be used to Mapi’s antics by now but Irene likes to pretend to be surprised every time.

“I will never get your sense of humour,” Is what Irene decides on as a response.

“You can always ignore us!” Mapi says with a rbight smile and Irene rolls her eyes again.

“No one can ignore you two. You’re both so loud.”

“Actually, I have to talk to you about your loudness,” Alexia says, one of the few things she’s said this morning before finishing her coffee,” It kept us all up last night.”

Ingrid’s hand squeezes yours and you almost choke on your food.

“What?”

“Look, I don’t care what card game you were playing but can we stop playing so late at night? I get you guys are competitive but those walls are thick and I could still kind of here you guys going at it.”

You and Mapi exchange panicked looks. For once, you’re both speechless, mouths opening and closing as you try to think of something to say.

“Don’t worry, Alexia,” Ingrid says, her hand still holding yours,” I’ll keep them both a bit quieter tonight. You know how they get.”

Oh, Alexia didn’t know the half of it.

“Thank you, Ingrid,” You captain says,” At least you can keep those two in line.”

“Of course.”

Mapi coughs a little bit, speaking under her breath so only you can hear as you exchange secret smiles. “Ingrid’s the one keeping us loud.”

[themeraldee]

I feel like Homelander would be caught off guard by southern mannerisms in the way that nicknames and pet names are given out very easily. Like reader is a new stylist or something and Homelander doles out a rare compliment and she just beams. "Well aren't you just a sweet thing, thank you Hun"

"Well aren't you just a sweet thing, thank you hun."

Homelander is caught off guard by your earnest words, a genuine sparkling smile on your face while you spritz his hair with a bit of hairspray.

He's used to saying similar words condescendingly. So to have you say it so genuinely and with such honest politeness totally throws him off.

People who work for him are usually annoying, either spewing out fake pleasantries or they're jittery, all scared and walking on eggshells. Either way you're different.

In his eyes this gives you good motherly qualities he's very much drawn towards. The kind of southern hospitality and attitude that just makes him want to please you just so you praise him and tell him what a sweetheart he's being all over again.

It becomes a routine anytime he sits in the dressing chair. He stares at you through the mirror in front of him already giving you a beaming smile.

And there you go again.

"Well ain't you just a ray of sunshine today. What got you all happy?"

"Just having a good day." He shrugs, melting into your hands gliding through his hair, separating the strands to see what you're working with.

Or another day you hit him with a "Well, don’t you look like a million bucks today!"

And already he's puffing his chest out, squaring his shoulders so you see him in the best of lights. And does he purr under your care... You may just be touching up his hair a bit or styling it either softly or more professionally, depending on the event Vought brought you in to style him for. However, to him it's pure self-indulgent pampering as you softly run your fingers through his hair, giving him killer scalp massages. You always take care to make him comfortable and happy.

And you're not blind. He's being painfully obvious in his growing attraction towards you.

That's why you dare to stop him before he heads out to the stage. And you pull him in placing a soft kiss on his cheek, careful not to disturb the make-up he's had put on for the camera.

"Go get ‘em, sugar, I know you’ll do great."

And he's flustered. Looking away, the-tips-of-his-ears-red kind of flustered. It's an event like any other. Like he's done thousands of times yet now it feels like his entire life depends on it.

"You betcha." He gives you a salute and a little wink and with that he's off to, for once, give the next public appearance his all. Juuust in case you're watching.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part six)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: y'all this part absolutely drained me. Idk what it was but I felt so stuck when writing this. I got it to a point where I can start part seven fresh, so fingers crossed whatever happened here doesn't happen again. I hope you all still enjoy it lol <33

part six: because I love you

Waking up in Hugh’s arms was heaven. He was still asleep when you first opened your eyes, his soft snores tickling your ear. You were grateful that he didn’t have those loud old man snores like some of your past lovers had, though you were sure you wouldn’t mind if he did. Gently lifting the arm that was wrapped around your waist, you carefully rolled over to face him. As you studied his resting face, you felt overcome with a deep sentiment of gratitude. He was just as handsome asleep as he was awake. The face that almost always carried a smile was at peace, lips slightly ajar. You adored his face, the deep lines showing a life of joy and laughter. Each nook and cranny aging him beautifully over the years. It made you sad in a way. You wished you could have experienced life with him, wanting nothing more than to have the ‘right’ life with him. A life where your relationship with Hugh made sense and was accepted- but you would gladly take whatever time you could get with him. 

You placed your hand on his cheek, sliding your fingers delicately over the course hairs that covered his jaw. Your chest felt warm. The feelings you had for the man who slept so deeply before you had grown stronger than you’d anticipated, but Hugh made it so easy to fall for him. And you had fallen for him, you knew that now. If one thing for certain came out of this time you’d spent with Hugh, it was that you were unbelievably in love with him. You had always found yourself falling too fast for the wrong people but you had good faith that for once it would be right. For once, you wouldn’t get hurt. You trusted him to protect your heart and to do right by you. You knew he would. 

As much as you wanted to stay and count every wrinkle that laid upon his face, you had to pee really bad. You gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and wiggled slowly out of his grip. You gave him one last look over before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As you sat there, memories of the night before danced around your mind. The way he kissed you, touched you. He made you feel like you were worth something. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, always feeling used by other men and deep down you know that all you were to them was just some young girl to fuck. You never actually meant anything to them. Hugh was different. Being with him felt right. You couldn’t find any other words to describe the feeling. He hadn’t brought you here to have sex,  for once it was you who had made that decision. He bought you flowers and a cake to congratulate you on an achievement that no one else cared to celebrate with you. He cared for you in some capacity and it made you feel horrible, because even with all this confirmation, you still had doubts.

You’ve been fighting a secret battle since the moment he kissed you, the moment everything between you changed. Putting what you were feeling into words felt impossible. What you did know though, is that you were terrified that you wouldn’t be enough for him. Scared that he would snap out of whatever daze he was in and miss the life he had with his wife and kids, the life that didn’t involve you. The life that made sense. 

When you walk back to the bedroom you find Hugh sitting up with his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. His glasses were perched on the lower bridge of his nose, threatening to fall off any moment. His eyes peaked over the frames as he turned to look at you. “Morning baby. I was just about to text you, thought you left.” He sets his phone down on the bedside table as he speaks. “Mhm, just had to pee.” You walk over to the bed and climb up, straddling Hugh’s lap. “Why didn’t you use this one?” He jerks his head to the bathroom that’s attached to the room and you shrug. “I don’t know. The vibes of the thirst trap bathroom just feel different.” You joke. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” He asks, smirking slightly. You shake your head. “Absolutely not.” You affirm and it makes Hugh chuckle. “I was wondering if you had any plans for your last day in the big apple?” His hands rest on your exposed thighs and you become all too aware that you’re still butt ass naked under his t-shirt. “Uhh, not really. I was actually gonna ask if I could hang out with you today…” Your voice is shy. “I was really hoping you’d say that. I might have planned a few things for us.” Hugh smiles and you could feel excitement flood your body. “May I have insight on said plans kind sir?” You put on a posh voice that Hugh mimics. “I’m afraid not my lady, for each destination today is to be undisclosed until further notice.” You drop the bit but not without letting out a deep belly laugh at Hugh’s impressively good accent change. “Can I at least have a little hint so I know what to wear?” He thinks for a moment. “I’m giving you the proper New York tourist day, so wear something comfy.” He pauses. “Maybe wear something incognito. It might be harder to hide than it was the other day.” You hum in acknowledgment. “Do you think I could borrow some underwear or something? I’m feeling a little exposed.” Hugh laughs. 

Your fingers picked at the basketball shorts he let you borrow, tying the strings over and over again as Hugh made breakfast. Small conversation filled the large space and the domesticality of the situation made you flustered. “I’m kinda nervy about the tour. Are you gonna come support me on opening night?” He’s whisking the eggs in a small bowl with a fork and it was oddly attractive. “As long as my schedule allows it, I'll be there. I'd be at every show if I could be.” He looks up and sets the bowl down. “I’d do a lot of things for you, probably anything.” He adds before he turns around to start one of the gas stove burners. It ticks a few times before it catches. “That’s a lot of power to hold and you definitely messed up by telling me that.” You hold your hands up, each finger touching, as you wiggle them in an evil manner. Hugh looks back at you from where he’s moving the eggs around in the pan and smiles. “Don’t get too excited. I said probably anything.” You drop your hands and shrug. “That’s a lot more than I'm used to.” He turns back to the eggs. “Has anyone ever treated you the way you deserve?” The question takes you aback. “I’m not trying to be mean…After hearing some of the things you say and seeing how Pedr-..how he treated you, I’m not seeing anything good. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm confused on how a girl like you has never had anyone treat you right.” He plates the eggs and oils the pan to drop the turkey bacon as if he didn’t drop such a big observation onto you. 

“I uh-...I’m not really sure what to say…I mean I guess I haven’t really had a guy care about me all too much.” He turns to you, staying close to the stove. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You shrug. “I mean you’re not wrong. Everyone always seems to give up on me before anything serious happens…but hey that’s the price of being famous and having my taste in men I guess.” He flips the bacon. “I don’t know how I feel being your taste in men then. They aren’t really setting a good reputation.” He jokes but it stings a little. “Eh. I think you’re doing a lot better than any of them ever did. You’re sweet and kind…and unbelievably sexy.” You tried to steer the conversation away from its original content. It works, Hugh laughs. “You should go take a picture in the mirror again and post it. Your fans would love it.” He takes the bacon off of the pan and sets the pieces on a paper towel lined plate. “I didn’t post that for the fans babe. I posted that for you.” Your jaw drops and you draw a dramatic gasp. “I knew it was a thirst trap. Y’know next time you can just send it to me instead of posting it on instagram. I’d love a few more to add to my collection.” 

“Your collection?” He cocks an eyebrow up and you ignore his question. “Do you need my help with anything? I feel kinda useless just sitting here.” You ask as Hugh pulls out a container of strawberries. “It’s okay baby, I got it.” You hum, fingers going back to the strings on your shorts. Hugh washes a handful of berries and dries them one by one. “You’re good at changing the conversation.” He mumbles and lets out a small huff of a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You look at him with an innocent face. He’s silent for a moment, the only sound being the soft knocks of the knife hitting the cutting board. You watched as each slice of the strawberry fell over as Hugh worked. His hands stop for a moment and you look up at him, catching his eyes. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you and that I truly care for you.” His eyes focus back onto the cutting board. “I know that.” You mumble. “Then let that be a reminder. I want to hear the things you’ve been through. I want to know everything about you so I can be the best version of myself for you.” You didn’t know what to say, so instead you hopped out of the chair and hugged him.

–

After breakfast and after you followed Hugh around like a lost puppy while he got ready for the day, he drove you back to your hotel so you could do the same. You were frantically walking back and forth as you got ready, packing your suitcase as you went along. Hugh was sprawled out on the bed, scrolling through his phone. You picked out a pair of baggy black denim cargo pants to wear but you couldn’t decide between the classic ‘i love new york’ t-shirt you bought your first day here or a maroon turtleneck. “Which one should I wear? I’m leaning towards the new york one but I feel like that’s too touristy you know?” You start speaking as you walk out of the bathroom and hold up both shirts. “If I wear the turtleneck then I can probably get away with not wearing a jacket and I can also wear the converse I have that are in the same color.” You stand at a mirror that is in the hallway, putting each shirt over your chest, comparing them. When Hugh doesn’t answer, you turn to see him staring at you. “Hugh did you hear anything I just said?” He’s sat up on the bed now, no longer in the starfish position he was once in. “Wear the new york one baby. You won’t be a tourist forever. There’s only a matter of time before the city becomes familiar.” He explains. “Mm. Good point. Thank you babe.” You throw the turtleneck on your open suitcase and just as you're about to throw the simple graphic tee over your head, Hugh speaks. “Wait..don’t put that on yet. C’mere.” The last part is mumbled as he holds his hands out for you. 

You set your shirt down as you walk over to him. Both his arms snake around your waist as soon as you step between his thick thighs. “You look delicious right now.” His arms loosen as he pulls you back, taking in your appearance. “Is me not wearing a shirt, turning you on Hugh?” You tease. You almost forgot that you were only walking around in a simple black t-shirt bra. It lifted your boobs surprisingly well for the style and you could tell it was getting to Hugh. “What if I said it was?” He asks, eyes moving from your chest to your face. “If this gets you going too easily, you’re gonna struggle when you see the outfits I perform in.” You laugh. “Mhm. I’m excited.” He growls with a smirk before plunging his head towards your cleavage, kissing up and down the exposed skin. “You’re such a hornball.” You let out in your fit of laughter. He rests his face in the crook of your boobs. You can hear him mumbling something but you can’t make out the words. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re saying right now.” He reluctantly pulls his face back. “I said that we could always stay in today instead…Wanna get another taste of you.” His hands grip your waist and you feel a pulse between your legs from his words. 

“As tempting as that is…and it’s really really tempting. I wanna go out with you today, have some normality before life goes back to normal tomorrow. Maybe we’ll have time before my flight…for what you said.” He smiles and pats your butt. “Okay baby. Finish getting ready so we can go.” You lean down with puckered lips, meeting Hugh’s in a sweet kiss. “I’ll be ready in like fifteen minutes.” You promise as you pick your shirt up and run back into the bathroom. 

Somehow in the short time it took you to get ready, Hugh convinced you to let him take you to the airport. You tried to refuse since you already had accommodations made for the early 3:30am flight but he fought back. He said that it would be easier and we could spend more time together before I left. You agreed, wanting to spend every single last second with the man you loved. He threw your suitcase in the trunk of his car and the two of you were off on whatever adventure Hugh had planned. 

The first stop was at Battery park to see the Statue of Liberty. Hugh surprised you with a ferry ride that took you from the park to Liberty island, then Ellis island. You thanked Hugh non-stop as you boarded the ferry. You were a big history nerd and being able to be around objects and buildings that have existed for many generations of people before you, excited you to your core. Hugh was watching your thrill with a smile, sneaking pictures of you when he could- you never noticed. You did ask him to take a few pictures of you as the ferry moved right in front of lady liberty herself. Your smile was wide, eyes crinkled behind your sunglasses. Hugh held you close the entire time, kissing the top of your head every now and then. He would take you all over the world if it meant he got to see you this happy all the time. 

The whole exploration took about four hours. You were very thorough in your wanding, not wanting to miss a single detail. You apologized to Hugh every time you felt like you were taking too long but he never seemed annoyed or upset, just happy to be with you. Once you were back on the mainland, the two of you were starving and started to discuss places to eat. “I think that Stardust place would be fun but I heard it’s almost impossible to get in.” You don’t mean for it to sound like it was something you really wanted to do. You were just thinking out loud. “I can get us in there baby.” Hugh says, shrugging his shoulders. “Hugh Jackman…are you telling me you’d name drop yourself for me?” You smile. “I told you, anything for you sweetheart.” He raises your intertwined hands to his face, leaving a kiss on yours. “As sweet as that is, I could probably name drop myself and get in.” You smile. “It’s probably not smart for you to go into a place full of theater nerds anyway since you’ve been on Broadway multiple times or whatever.” You joke. “You’re probably right. I am quite the Broadway star.” He jokes back. “Fuck it. Let’s just get pizza again. I've only a tourist for so long, remember?” “Fuck it.” He agrees. 

You find a different pizza shop this time, waiting in the car while Hugh goes in to order. You spent the time looking through your phone. You saw a few texts from Ashley and it made your heart ache. She was a terrible friend but you still grieved the good times you did have. Once you got back home, you knew it was probably for the best to talk to her, settle everything, and get some closure. You thought a lot about loose ends you needed to tie as you entered this new chapter of your life, Pedro being one of them as well. You wanted as clean of a slate you could get as you moved forward with Hugh. 

“God I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I walked in there.” Hugh says as he opens the driver door, sitting two styrofoam cups in the center console drink holders. “Do you mind holding this for a moment sweetheart?” He asks, holding up a small box that had a large brown paper bag sitting on top. You grab it and Hugh climbs into the car. “Would it be too cliche if we ate this at the great lawn?” You ask with a lazy grin. “Maybe a little bit but it sounds like a great idea darling.” He smiles back. 

The drive to Central Park was a short one. Finding a parking spot however, took awhile. Hugh drove through one of the nearby parking garages, going up and down until he finally caught someone pulling out. When the two of you finally reached the lawn, you were a little nervous at the amount of people there but you put it aside, hoping that your sunglasses would be enough to hide you from any possible fans. You found a spot, farther away from the larger crowds. It was peaceful for the most part, both Hugh and yourself to engaged in conversation and eating to care about anything else. When you were both done eating, you scooted closer to Hugh, who then offered you to sit between his legs as he leaned back. Your back was against his chest, lifting with every breath he took. “This is nice.” You say, looking up at Hugh. “It is.” He agrees, kissing your forehead. When you look forward again, a girl catches your eye. She’s sitting not too far off and she’s staring. It makes your heart stop, afraid that she might have recognized you or Hugh. Your suspicion is proved right, her eyes go wide and she lifts her phone, pointing it directly in your direction. “Babe, I think that girl is recording us.” You nudge Hugh slightly to get his attention. He looks in the girl's direction and sighs. “Let’s get out of here.” The two of you walk back to the car, hand in hand. 

“Do you wanna go home or are you still up for one more adventure?” Hugh asks once you’re both settled in the car. The way he says ‘home’ makes your heart flutter. You know it’s probably out of habit but it makes you wonder what sharing a home with him would be like, how being with him officially would be. “I’m down for more touristing.” You smile, trying to let go of the bitter mood that girl had put you in. You didn’t mind fans recognizing you but it always sucked when a good moment was taken away because of it- a moment that would have been normal if you and Hugh were ‘normal’ people. 

The sun was starting to set as Hugh drove and it was beautiful. Seeing the city lights take over was a sight to see. “I thought we were going somewhere else?” You ask in confusion as Hugh pulls into the parking garage of his apartment building. “We are but I thought we could walk, if that’s okay with you love. It’s not too far.” He parks the car in his designated spot. “Yea that’s fine.” His hand squeezes your thigh, a place it often sits as he drives. “Let’s go then.” 

You were convinced there wasn’t anything more beautiful than walking through New York at night. You were never fond of big cities, only living in Los Angeles because you had to for work, but something about nyc brings a sense of home you’ve never felt before. Almost like a sense of nostalgia, a longing for a place that felt right. 

The last stop happened to be Times Square. The second you found a good spot, you passed your phone over to Hugh to take pictures of you. It was a little over stimulating the longer you stood there, admiring all of the giant screens and billboards. You tried to tough it out as long as possible but your last straw was when some guy in a janky super hero suit tried to come up to you. Hugh was quick to grab you and lead you away. “I can’t make up my mind on what’s worse, the con artist in Hollywood or the ones here.” You joke, Hugh laughs agreeing. The streets started to empty the further away you got from the square and you were thankful for that. As you walked hand in hand with Hugh, you started to hum the melody of ‘New York, New York’ by Frank Sinatra. Hugh smiles down at you and releases your hand to pull you closer, his arm resting over your shoulder. “Ooo. Can we go in there real quick?” You ask, pointing at the small grocery market across the street. “Sure baby.” You can tell he’s confused so you answer his question before he can ask. “I wanna make dinner for you.” You look both ways down the street before crossing. “You don’t have to do that sweet girl.” The sliding doors open and you’re hit with the cool air. “I want to.” He doesn’t say anything else as he follows you around the store. When you hit the produce section, you lift the sunglasses that had been sitting on your face for most of the day, creating a makeshift headband. You gather a mix of yukon gold and baby red potatoes, as well as a few carrots and a stock of broccoli. “What are you making?” Hugh asks as you walk towards the meat shelves, grabbing a pack of two chicken breasts. “A spicy, maple chicken sheet pan dinner.” You explain, walking towards the next aisle. “A sheet pan dinner?” He questions. “You throw everything onto the same pan, shove it in the oven, and boom, you have dinner.” He laughs. “I guess that makes sense.” 

Hugh insisted on paying for everything but you refused. He had paid for almost everything else since you’ve been in New York and you had to remind him that you too had too much money than you knew what to do with. He complained about it the whole way back to his apartment, it was kinda cute. When you finally got back, you asked Hugh to gather everything you’d need: a cutting board, a large bowl, a peeler, a colander, etc. You wanted to make sure you had everything so he could sit and watch, just as you had with him this morning. “I could get used to this.” You look up from where you're mixing the veggies and seasoning in a bowl. “What, me cooking for you?” You ask, sarcasm present in your voice. “No, you being here with me.” Hugh smiles. “Oh..” You whisper as you dump the prepped veggies onto the parchment lined sheet pan. “Was that too forward?” You’re patting the chicken with a paper towel and placing them in the same bowl as he asks. “No. I like when you say stuff like that, it just makes me all nervous.” You drizzle the chicken in olive oil and add your choice of seasonings. “Why does it make you nervous?” His elbows are on the counter, hands resting in his hands. “Because someone like you likes someone like me, it’s crazy.” You place the chicken on the sheet pan before placing it into the already heated oven. 

Hugh stands up and walks behind you. His arms wrap around you as you wash your hands. “Is it really that hard to believe that I like you?” He asks, giving light kisses to your neck. “Sometimes.” You wiggle out of his arms to dry your hands on a towel that rests on the oven handle. “I must not be doing a very good job at showing it then.” You walk back over to him, where he’s leaning back on the counter. “It’s not you babe, it’s the voices.” You point to your head. “What are they saying?” You think for a moment. “Do you want the default answer or the real answer?” “The real one.” He responds without a second thought. “I think I’m just scared that all of this is temporary.” You say motioned your arms around. “I’m scared that one day you’ll snap out of whatever it is you feel for me and just…just leave and not want me anymore.” He pulls you into his chest. “I don’t know what I can say or do to break you free from that but I can promise that I won't just leave you. If there ever comes a time where I don't want to be with you, which is very unlikely, I’ll tell you.” You don’t say anything as he holds you. The two of you stay like that until the twenty five minute timer you set is going off. 

—

“Do you really have to leave today?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your back softly. After dinner, Hugh went down to fetch your suitcase out of his car. Both of you took showers, separately this time. Now you were straddling his lap, laying forward with your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Unfortunately..” You sigh out. “You can’t stay just a few more days?” He practically pouts and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.  “I really wish I could but duty calls. I jump right into work once I’m back.” This time he sighs. “I’m gonna miss you.” “I’m gonna miss you too.” You give his neck a few small kisses before speaking again. “When are you coming back to LA?” You lift your upper body and rest your hands on his bare chest. “I’m not sure. Got some stuff to deal with here, might take a while.” He lifts himself up, sitting up straight against the headboard, putting you both in the same position as this morning. “Hm. What stuff?” You ask, hands trailing down from his chest to his abs. “Divorce stuff. Ex-wife stuff.” He shrugs slightly and leans forward, his lips meeting your neck as he leaves his own kisses. “Oh..” It comes out more as a moan, Hugh’s teeth nipping at the skin right below your ear. “That must be hard, divorcing after so long together.” His lips falter for a moment. “Doesn’t matter.” He leans back against the headboard. His response made you feel weird. Hugh’s voice was distant. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You apologize, letting your hands fall to his shoulders. “It’s okay, it would’ve come up eventually.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it Hugh, it’s okay.” 

“It’s something we should talk about though. It’s not fair to you. You’ve opened up so much to me, I should do the same for you.” You’re silent, not sure what to say. “Does it bother you?”  Hugh asks.

“Does what bother me?” You know what he’s asking but you weren’t sure how to answer. 

“That I was married?” He’s looking at you, but you're looking down at his hands. 

“No.” It wasn’t a lie. Him being married isn’t what bothered you. “Look at me baby.” His voice is stern, a tone that you haven’t heard before. When you look at him his eyes are quick to line with yours. “Does it bother you? Don’t lie to me.” You sigh, hands sliding from his stomach. You rest them on top of his own where they are placed on your thigh. “I wasn't lying. It doesn’t bother me that you were married.” 

“Then what’s up sweet girl? I can tell there's something going on in that pretty head of yours..” The way he’s looking at you makes your heart race. He’s looking at you like you're the most important person in the world, like you mean everything to him. 

“I don’t care that you were married…it’s just..this is gonna sound stupid but..I’m scared of how long you two were together and how recent your divorce was.” 

“What do you mean baby?” 

“Like I said earlier, I’m scared of this being temporary. That I’m just some…god I don’t know…that I’m a rebound or something. That the two of you will realize that being separated wasn’t the right decision.” Your posture breaks as you slump forward slightly. “I knew that she would always be in your life and I’ve been trying to make peace with that…but the thought of you leaving is too much.” You confess. 

“Y/n…What Deb and I had has been over for a long time. It was over years before we finalized anything. Everything now is purely about our kids. I’ll always hold love for her in my heart but it isn’t a romantic love anymore. That love is reserved for you sweet girl, all for you.” His fingers delicately lift your chin. “I’m a devoted man y/n. Once you have me, I’m yours. I promise.” His thumb rubs along your jaw. You lift your pinky and he chuckles slightly. He lifts his own and links it with yours. “Does that mean you’re finally gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?” His eyes widened slightly. “Are you ready to be my girlfriend?” Hugh asks, seriousness fills his voice. “I really want to be.” His eyes soften. “What’s stopping you from being all mine baby?” 

The question is loaded. The answer was full of worries you shoved deep down, hoping they wouldn’t come up as soon as they did. From the moment you walked into his home, you tried your best to ignore the family photos that littered his walls. Photos of him and his wife with wide smiles, their kids standing between them, smiles just as wide. You pushed down every feeling you had as he showed you the rooms he kept for his kids for when they would visit. His daughter's room hurt the most. You saw glimpses of your own teenage years that you’d excited only a few years earlier. His son’s room reminds you that that was the room of a man whose age was more appropriate for you. You’d been reminded non-stop that what you had with Hugh was wrong in the eyes of others, so wrong that you were starting to feel it too.

“Does it ever worry you that our relationship isn’t practical? That it doesn’t make sense?” He makes a face and he looks almost offended.“How doesn’t it make sense? I like you, you like me. You’re happy, I’m happy. What more is there to it?” 

“That’s the thing Hugh. When it comes to you, it will never just be you.” His eyebrows scrunch up. “I'm confused baby.” You sigh. “Hugh, you were married for decades, with kids. What is your ex-wife going to think about you dating a girl that’s thirty three years younger than you? Hell, better yet, what will your kids think Hugh? What are they going to think about you dating a girl that sits right in between their ages?” You rant. “What Deb thinks about us doesn’t matter. She’ll get over it.” His hands give your thighs a small squeeze. “And your kids?” He sighs. “I’m not sure what they’ll think but I’m sure that if I explain it to them they’ll understand. They’re old enough to where you won’t need to be a big part of their lives.”

“I know that babe but I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit into your life as it is. I can’t just show up to the family Christmas parties as your girlfriend. Do you know how fucking weird that will be for me, for them?” His face falls and you know he doesn’t take your words the way you intended. “It would be weird to be my girlfriend?” 

“Hugh, that’s not what I meant.” He goes to move you off his lap but you tighten your thighs to stand your ground. “Babe, you have to understand what I mean. I don’t wanna hide from your kids and Deborra. I want to be a part of your life completely and that includes knowing them.” He stops moving and sighs. 

“This isn’t going to be easy y/n. I know I have baggage and I’m sorry that this wasn’t something we talked about sooner. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave and have nothing to do with me.” Hugh lowers his head slightly. “Hugh, I don’t wanna leave you. I’m used to older men, just not ones with ex-wives and kids.” You try to make it lighten the mood, hoping to make him laugh. It doesn’t. 

“Everyone’s gonna hate us if we do this. The fans, your family, probably even my family if I’m being honest. The crazy thing is that I don’t care if everyone hates me but I don’t want to be the reason everyone hates you.” 

Those last words felt like a weight coming off of your shoulders. The words were so simple but had been so hard to say all this time. They were true. You didn’t care if fans turned on you, you didn’t care if your family disapproved, though you couldn’t imagine them disliking Hugh. Selfishly, you also didn’t care that much if Hugh’s family hated you. These were all miniscule issues when it came to you loving Hugh. As long as he was happy, you were happy. But the thought of Hugh experiencing any of that made your skin crawl. You didn’t want him to lose fans he’s had over the long course of his career, you didn’t want to put him through the burden of his family not approving of you and him having to feel the awkwardness every time you were around them. You couldn’t imagine him jeopardizing the life he had built all because of you. You were still building a career. Everyone around you has already experienced you dating men that have no business dating someone your age. You didn’t want to hurt him with the implications that came along with your name and age. 

“That’s not fair to say.” Hugh squeezes your hand. “You can’t put the weight of everything on yourself. If you decide that you want to be with me, then that’s how it’s going to be. You and me. We’ll figure everything out together.” You look off to the side because you know if you look at him the ache you’d been feeling in your throat will betray you. “Look at me.” The hand that isn’t holding yours reaches for your cheek as he attempts to move your face to look towards him. You refuse, already feeling a tear slip down involuntarily. “Baby please.” He tries again and you let him turn your face. A sob escapes, the pain in your neck finally relieved. “What’s wrong y/n? You gotta talk to me.” His voice is sweet and patient. All this man does is care for you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you and your family Hugh. I don’t want them to suffer, all because I love you.” You sob. “You what?” His hands drop down to your knees. “I love you, Hugh.” You try your best to get the words out through the steady stream of tears. “Do you mean that baby?” He asks softly as one hand comes back to your cheek, wiping a few tears away. “Of course I mean it, that’s why I can’t leave you. I feel so selfish because the smart thing would be to walk away so no one gets hurt but I can’t. I love you too much to let you go.” 

“I love you y/n, so much.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Really?” You ask with sad eyes. “I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the moment I met you baby. You looked so pretty that day and your voice was like a siren's call. I tried to fight the attraction but when you invited me to your album party, I didn't care anymore. I wanted you.” You grabbed his face at the confession, pulling his lips to yours. You both let every emotion spill into the kiss. “Does this make you my girlfriend now or are we still friends that hook up and love each other?” He asks jokingly with a dopey smile. “As much as I want to say yes, talk to your kids first. Please. I think it would make me feel a little better about everything.” He kisses you. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” 

—

Leaving Hugh felt impossible. Not knowing when you’d see him next and him being around his ex-wife without you here to distract him made you nervous. You trusted him but when it came to you or the woman he was married to for twenty seven years, it was hard to say he'd choose you. Even after his reassurance, you had a feeling she would always come first. 

“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” You ask as you hug him, the two of you in the same hidden room from when he picked you up. “I really wish I could baby. I’ll try to get back out there as soon as I can.” He kisses the top of your head and the two of you stay there for as long as you can. “I should probably go.” You say reluctantly. “Yea, you should.” You give him a few quick kisses. “Don’t leave me waiting too long. I’ll be waiting for you.” You smile at him before giving him one last kiss. “I won’t, sweet girl. Text me as soon as you board and when you land okay?” You grab the handle of your suitcase. “I will.” You start to walk towards the door that leads out to the public but before you go out, you turn towards him one more time. “Bye Hugh.” You give him a small wave. “Bye baby. I love you.” The words make you smile. “I love you Hugh.” You give him one more wave before you walk through the door.

thank you for reading!

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

*taglist closed*

[writingjourney]

warmth // cregan stark x f!reader // 500 words, biting, filth, MDNI

The icy winds howl relentlessly as they meet the thick castle walls of Winterfell which stands proudly, as it has stood for thousands of years, against the perils of the North. Inside, a large fire is fighting off the cold, its deep orange glow and the flickering shadows battling for dominance over the chamber.

Winter nights are long this far North and comfort is best found in sharing the silent hours in the arms of a lover. You find that your lord husband is taking this sentiment quite seriously, this task of keeping you warm and content.

Muttered curses drown out the crackling of the fire, his cock burried deep inside of you as he ruts in a desperate rhythm. Your breathy moans are stifled by the meat of his shoulder, the imprint of your teeth never quite fading. Cregan runs hotter than the natural springs underneath the stronghold, a thin sheen of sweat coating his back as you claw at it to relieve the tension inside of you.

With broken words you whisper your affection for him, how good he makes you feel, how he fills you so perfectly, and his voice is thick, deeper, when he drawls your name. One hand is secured firmly around your thigh to spread your legs apart as far they would go, the other arm propped to support his weight and not crush you. There lies a certain thrill in the fact that he could rip you apart with his bare hands, the Wolf of the North, a man with the strength of a beast, yet so gentle after night falls and his lips find yours, stern lord turned to ardent lover, grim wolf to playful pup.

It is his intimate embrace that makes you forget the unforgiving nature of the North, you, a post-war transplant from beyond the Neck, and perhaps it is the sole reason why you find yourself missing your old home less and less despite the harsh reality of your new life in the perpetual cold of an endless Winter.

Cregan angles your hips upwards and you crest almost instantly, forgetting yourself as heat pools into every crevice of your body. He swallows the sounds of your pleasure, ever hungry, lips and hands indulging in the sweet reactions he manages to draw from you. It never takes long until he follows, though he likes to linger, push the evidence of his release deeper into your cunt.

Wolf he may be but when he pulls you to his chest he purrs like a cat, content and happy to be basking in the warmth of not just the fire but the potent afterglow of your shared love. You rake your fingers through his coarse chest hair, dark as the rest of him, and his eyes fall closed, the weariness catching up. A gentle touch never fails to lure him into a slumber, the kiss of your lips to his cheek scarcely noted. You smile as you listen to his steady breath, mingling with the whispered howls outside – wind or wolf, the answer lost to fragmented dreams.

─── ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ───

thank you for reading!! this is meant to be part of a bigger story that i hope to be writing at some point but i adapted it into a short ficlet ♡

[antoncore]

bro when i tell you i could NOT stop thinking about apologizing (not necessarily for something bad) and begging…. who in riize/bnd😴

gonna do a separate post for bnd if others want it as i made this longer than i planned but for riize, anton and eunseok.

anton is clingy and loves loves LOVES having his hands all over you. he had “ignored” you when you went into his home studio, asking if he needed anything while he worked (although he did have his headphones in) and you got frustrated, storming out of the room. he would get up instantly to see you in the kitchen scrolling, you wouldn’t even notice he was there until you felt his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. you ignored him, continuing to scroll as he placed the softest of kisses along your neck, murmuring apologies between each one. “didn’t mean to ignore you, darling, you know how i get when i’m focused,” as you continued to scroll, not paying any attention to his words, he nuzzled into your neck, whispering softly “i’m sorry, let me make it up to you, please.”

he gently turned you around to face him, lifting you up onto the counter. “i’d do anything for you,” he continued, his voice soft and pleading as he got on his knees as his eyes searched yours, practically begging for your forgiveness as his kissed his way up your thighs. you’d just let him, watching just how eager he was to please you. his full attention would be completely on you for hours as he ate you out. he held your hand tight as you put your other hand through his hair, apologies and pleas slipping from his lips every time he pulled away to breathe. would have you cum on his tongue multiple times until you said the words “i forgive you.”

eunseok had to work late on the night of your anniversary dinner. the deadlines for a crucial project were fast approaching, his team under pressure to finalise designs. every little detail mattered, needing his full attention. he sipped on his coffee as he sent you a text with a heavy sigh, feeling so guilty about missing such an important date.

eunseok: i’m sorry i have to miss the dinner doll, need to finalise the design plans tonight and i can’t leave until it’s all done.

your heart dropped slightly but you understood how stressful the night before a deadline was. you typed a quick reply, trying your best to reassure him that it was okay. as the hours passed, you found yourself glancing at the clock, every second only worsening your disappointment, wondering when eunseok was coming home. he’d walk through the door with a tired smile, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands as a small apology. despite the sweet gesture, you were still frustrated, unable to forget what tonight could’ve been.

he would make it all better by fucking the frustration out of you, letting you order him around slightly, him giving you his cock exactly how you wanted. he’d listen attentively to your every word, your every sound to know that he was making you feel good, if he needed to pick up the pace or slow down. he’d go for rounds until you wanted him to stop, the night ending in breathlessness and him collapsing on top of you, giving you forehead kisses. he would even book a last minute weekend getaway as an extra gesture so that you could celebrate and have some quality time together away from home and the pressures of work (and so that he could make love to you, just like you’d want on your anniversary, ending with you being full of his cum, another way of showing how you always came first, wanting to spend his whole life with you <3)

[connorsui]

“ Irresistibly Drawn ”

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Satoru is usually unfazed by the world around him, but now he finds himself obsessed with you, torn between playful teasing and a deepening affection.

Genre/warnings: fluff is so soft, light Jealousy on gojos part, playful banter ,unspoken feelings, pining, gojos six eyes are constantly looking at you with hearts all over

Note: suguru lowkey would be a good bf

w.c: 1.5K

It was a peculiar thing, the way Satoru Gojo found himself inexorably drawn to you. A man of unparalleled talent, charisma, and presence, he was rarely one to be captivated by anything that did not directly challenge him. Yet here he was, seated in his usual spot in the back of Yaga's class, his cerulean eyes drifting toward you like the moon tugs at the tide.

You sat just a few rows ahead, head slightly tilted in concentration, your brow furrowed as you absorbed Yaga’s lesson. For the life of him, Satoru couldn’t tell you what the class was about. Not because he couldn’t, but because it didn’t matter. Nothing in that moment mattered except the way you were lost in thought. He felt a strange satisfaction in knowing you were this focused on something, but all he could think about was how lovely you looked—how the sunlight spilling through the window softly illuminated the curve of your cheek, the strands of your hair that framed your face.

He leaned back in his chair, one long leg casually crossing over the other, as if utterly indifferent to the world. Yet beneath the veneer of laid-back carelessness was a growing restlessness, an unfamiliar tension that knotted in his chest. Why were his eyes always drawn to you? Why did it bother him when Suguru leaned in close to offer you help, his warm laugh filling the room as you fumbled through the training exercises?

Satoru had never considered himself jealous. Jealousy was a weakness, and he was anything but weak. But when Suguru’s hand had brushed yours that day, when he'd caught you mid-stumble with an effortless grace, a smile playing on his lips, Satoru’s jaw had tightened. His fists had clenched at his sides, the itch to intervene almost unbearable. He hadn’t, of course. That wasn’t his style. But the irritation simmered beneath his calm exterior, the feeling foreign and unwelcome. That even his own six eyes grew in irritation.

She wouldn't choose suguru over us would she?

He's a certified pretty boy on both ends of the spectrum losing to him would feel worse than anything we have dealt with

Not unless we get to her first

Are we seeing the exact same thing?

Her heart is increasing

Let's just play it safe…for now ..

That evening, he’d found himself sprawled on his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the scene in his mind. Why did it bother him so much? Why was it Suguru’s grin, your laughter, the brief contact of your hands that haunted him?

When Yaga had offhandedly commented on Satoru’s distraction during class—teasingly suggesting that someone had “taken up residence in his mind”—it was like a light had flickered on in the darkest corners of his consciousness. The realization hit him all at once, as sudden and unavoidable as a torrent breaking a dam. It wasn’t jealousy he felt.

It was something much worse. He was smitten.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, the invincible prodigy, was utterly and hopelessly smitten with you. And it terrified him.

The next morning, he woke with a pounding heart, the memory of Yaga’s teasing and his own restless thoughts gnawing at him. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t think straight. Suguru’s knowing laughter had echoed in his ears after he’d confided in him, and though Satoru had laughed it off, the weight of it sat heavy in his chest. There was only one way to settle this.

So when he spotted you after class, your figure small and unassuming as you descended the steps, he found himself moving before he could think. His long strides carried him toward you, the steady thrum of his heart growing louder with each step. He felt like a fool. Satoru Gojo, who had never been nervous in his life, now felt his pulse racing, his stomach twisting with a kind of anticipation that was wholly unfamiliar.

When you finally came into view, your feet barely making a sound as you stepped lightly on the path, he stopped in his tracks. You looked up at him with those wide, curious eyes, a slight smile playing at your lips. It was the kind of smile that made something in him soften, that reminded him just how fragile this feeling was, how much power you unknowingly held over him.

“Satoru?” Your voice was gentle, laced with surprise, and it hung in the air between you both, soft like the afternoon breeze.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, words caught somewhere between his mind and lips. How could he, the one who always knew exactly what to say, find himself so completely undone in your presence?

What do we say?

Say something…

.. she's looking straight at us

For a brief moment, the idea of deflecting with one of his usual jokes crossed his mind—a laugh, a quip, something to brush this moment away. But the look in your eyes stopped him. There was a warmth, an openness, that seemed to unravel all of his carefully constructed bravado.

“I—” he began, hesitating, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

The confession felt startlingly simple, but its weight settled in the air between you, thick with unspoken meaning. You blinked, taken aback for a heartbeat…

That's the best we can come up with?

We have done better than this ..

before a smile tugged at the corners of your lips—a knowing smile, one that made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Is that so?” you asked, a light laugh escaping your lips as you tilted your head at him. “And what exactly am I supposed to make of that? Do you actually mean it, Satoru, or is this just another one of your games?”

His smirk silently returned, the familiar glint of humor and charisma flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I mean it. I don’t throw around compliments unless they’re deserved. And trust me, you’ve been distracting me all day.”

Your smile deepened, but your voice carried a playful edge as you crossed your arms. “Distracting you, huh? Should I feel honored? Or is this just your way of telling me you’ve been spacing out instead of actually ”

“Heyyyy,” he leaned in ever so slightly, the mischievous grin never leaving his face, “can you blame me thoughhh? You’re a lot easier on the eyes than whatever there is going on. Honestly, I think you’ve made my life more bearable to deal with.”

You rolled your eyes, but your expression softened in amusement. “Is that all I am to you? Just a way to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Satoru said, and for a moment, his voice lost some of its teasing lilt. “If you must know, I’ve been thinking about you—quite a bit, actually.” His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the humor in his tone giving way to something more genuine.

I can't read to her …

Well read harder?

Her heart is steady

And her eyes are so direct to us

..Is she teasing?

There was a pause before you spoke again, the playful spark still dancing in your eyes. “Well, since you’ve been so preoccupied with me, what are you going to do about it?”

He blinked, a bit caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a low chuckle, brushing a hand through his hair as he leaned back with that signature ease. “I was thinking of taking you out far with me …something to ease up our little life into something far more exciting..maybe some fun in the city?”

“Hmm,” you mused, feigning thoughtfulness. “And what makes you think I’d accept such an offer?”

Satoru grinned, the confidence returning full force as he straightened up. “Cmoonn you really going to say no to me?, your favorite? —letting go of such an offer as my wallet in your hands?”

You shook your head, laughing softly at his audacity, but there was a flicker of excitement in your smile. “Alright then, why don’t you meet me outside the tech’s gates later? And we’ll see if you can keep me as entertained in person as you claim.”

Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it with his usual bravado. “Wait, you mean today? ...Like, today today?”

You giggled, taking a step back, your laughter light as it filled the space between you. “Yes, today. If you really mean what you say, I’d love to see you try.”

This is working

How is this working?

Don't question it

He felt his heart skip, his usual mask slipping for a moment as something warmer, more real, surfaced beneath the swagger. “Then I guess I’ll have to bring my A-game. But don’t think I’ll let you win so easily. I’ve still got a reputation to uphold.”

You turned with a playful smile, your voice drifting back to him as you walked away. “Oh, don’t worry, Gojo. I’m expecting a challenge.”

He watched you leave, his grin widening as a thought flickered in his mind—perhaps, just this once, losing wouldn’t be so bad.

Listen I just want a smitten gojo who wants us internally ...mmhkay?

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

It all started on a Sunday. 

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed. 

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you. 

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.” 

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now” 

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you. 

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“Just…me” 

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

[overtake]

Trying to do something resembling coping after Singapore. Have some Max/Daniel hurt/comfort (1.3k). Also on ao3 if you prefer.

The press of a button freezes Max’s watery blue eyes, the space between them bifurcated by the crease in his forehead.

“Is now really a moment to remember?” Max asks in a raspy voice. His throat isn’t clogged by tears, but there’s almost a decades worth of race starts together sitting uncomfortably in there and congesting each word.

His hand hasn’t strayed from Daniel since he found him after the race. It’s somewhere on some part of him every time he’s close enough to touch.

Normally he’s halfway home by this point, Air Max somewhere over the circuit skies and headed back toward home.

He’s stayed, this time, in case this is it. In case this is his last chance to neatly fold Daniel’s clothes into his bag, even though his own are always wrinkled under pairs of stained shoes and dirty briefs. In case this is the last time they both exit the paddock as drivers. In case this is the final chance Max has to trace the shape of Daniel’s jawline and tell him, “Good race.”

Daniel’s mum is giving them a last minute alone. She’s standing guarding outside the door and leaving them be for now. Daniel knows, though, that when they stand, she’ll hug Daniel close, wishing he was little enough to hide in the crook of her neck while she covers all his gaping wounds with plasters and a kiss on each one to ease the ache. 

Despite his complaints about the camera, Max still moves from where he’s crouched in front of Daniel to collapse into his side and observe the photo. He wraps one arm around Daniel’s back to tug him impossibly closer and rests his mouth on the top of Daniel’s shoulder in an exhausted kind of kiss.

“I look like shit,” he says, statement muffled by the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. He sounds like he wants to poke fun at himself until he makes Daniel laugh, but they’re both too hollowed out to muster up the energy. Instead, Max reaches out and turns off the display.

For a second, their fingers linger together on the camera’s body, until Daniel lets the camera drop back against his chest so he can entangle their hands instead.

“It’s not a nice memory,” Daniel agrees. Unlike Max, his voice right now can all be attributed to tears. “But in December, no matter what happens after today, I’ll get a retake on the farm. I’ll be happy, and we’ll be together, and life will go on from now.”

Daniel feels the dampness on his shoulder when a single tear breaks containment, then another, and a shuddering breath, until Max rights himself and pointedly looks away from the tiny patch soaked in cotton.

“It’s not fair,” he says tightly. For a second, he sounds every bit the bullish teenager with a black and white view on the way the world ought to work and bitter frustration that sometimes reality dapples in nuance. It’s the first thing to get Daniel anywhere within city limits of smiling since he set the lap record and gave himself a final moment in the car to reflect on everything this sport had given him, and that he had given this sport.

“Yeah,” he agrees hoarsely. “It’s not fucking fair.”

He’s done with excuses and niceties and dancing on the Red Bull puppet strings in hopes that playing their game might finally net him a seat he’d killed himself to earn. It’s not fair. It’s callous and cruel, the way they’ve strung him and everyone who loves him along for a race they aren’t even brave enough to tell him is his last.

They’re silent for another moment. Daniel closes his eyes and soaks it in: the tendrils of freshly washed hair still trailing water down his spine. The din of dog-tired employees breaking down the paddock, to be quickly vanished away as if it was never here. The ragged in-and-out of Max’s lungs as he tries to coax both of their breaths into something resembling normal.

“Thank you, by the way,” Max says softly. “And congratulations on your lap record.”

“You owe me a really nice Christmas present.”

Max presses a whisper of a kiss over Daniel’s drying curls. “You always deserve the nicest presents.”

Daniel’s mum slips in then, gently shutting the door behind her. Unlike Max, she’s made no secret of her tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she musters up enough of a smile when Daniel heaves himself up into her arms.

“Come here, Max,” he hears his mum scold. A second later, Max is in an awkward three-person hug. Grace’s short arms struggle to embrace them both, but smelling her vanilla perfume and knowing she’s there is enough to surround him in all the ways that matter.

She whispers in turn to each of them, but they���re all so tightly wound, they can all hear every word.

“Thank you for being here every time I couldn’t be,” she tells Max. He murmurs something back, but he manages to keep it quiet enough that Daniel can’t make out all his words. It’s something about thanking her for trusting him with Daniel, but the rest is lost. All he knows is that his mum’s tears start flowing again.

When it’s his turn, she can barely choke out the words. “I’m so proud of you. For your career, of course, but for who you’ve grown into. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

“I love you,” is all Daniel manages. He buries the nose shaped like hers into the brown curls that his genes copy-pasted and soaks in gratitude that he has both her face and her endless capacity to love.

Daniel walks into humid night air with his head held high and a career most drivers would kill for, surrounded by people who love him for more than that list of achievements, and knows that he’ll survive whatever comes next.

“That’s a terrible photo,” Max complains three months later. His eyes are scrunched up all cute in it, framed by long lashes and sun-soaked freckles that are almost hidden by the streaks of dirt on his face. He’s smiling, both in the picture and right now, so Daniel knows he doesn’t actually mind.

Two weeks of busy Australian summer have left Max various shades of pink and tan. He'd somewhat learned how to use the grill that Daniel was too scared to touch and now had matching grill aprons with Daniel's dad. He christened the new baby cow the wholly uncreative name ‘Lilly’, because god forbid any animal in his vicinity not be named after Monaco nightlife. He’d also 100% taken to the dirt bikes as easily as everyone would assume and had absolutely, definitely not sworn Daniel to secrecy about where he got that giant bruise on his side after their first go.

When Daniel transfers the photos to his computer later, his finger pauses on the photo captured in a melancholic driver’s room. In it, Max’s eyes are dull and weary, but they’re looking at Daniel with the same unblinking love from today’s picture.

It’s proof, memorialized in expensive pixels, that Daniel’s life did not end on the streets of Singapore; that his worth to the world never depended on his points or podiums.

He closes the lid of his laptop and joins the gathering in the living room. Max is pouring fake tea for Isabella’s dolls. Isaac is politely sipping an empty teacup, one pinky in the air. Isabella is nowhere to be found, probably busy dragging Daniel’s poor parents to see Lilly the cow for the fifth time today.

“Daniel!” Max says, in the sweet, distinct way his mouth always forms the name. His face brightens when Daniel walks in. When Max smiles like that, it’s as if the sun has come through the roof and taken human form in broad shoulders and rumpled t-shirts.

“Max!” Daniel says back, matching his enthusiastic tone. He sits cross-legged in Isabella’s empty spot and slides his fingers between Max’s.

The tea party continues, and life moves forward.

[samandcolbyownme]

I got the itch to write dealer!Sam, so that’s what I’m doing. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of weed, flirting, kissing, rough actions, hair pulling, choking, biting, scratching, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word Count: 2.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You have a small smile to the man who helped you out of the car, “Thank you.”

He nods, “Not a problem, Miss y/l/n. Enjoy the party.”

You smile and walk up to the door, mumbling to yourself, “I definitely won’t.” You take a deep breath, sighing as you walk through the doors.

This hotel was absolutely breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, sculptures incorporated into the ceiling works, it was like you walked out of real life and entered something of the fairytale sorts.

“Champagne, Miss?”

You look up at the guy holding the tray of glasses holding bubbly, and you groan, “Yes, please. Yes.” You take the glass off of the tray and down it within seconds, “Hold on.”

You place the empty glass on the tray and the water raises his brows as you down the second glass, “Do you want the third one or should I just walk away?”

He laughs as you look at him and you smile, laughing softly, “I’ll take the third, please.”

“It’s yours.” He smiles and gives you a nod, “Enjoy your night.” He walks away and you bring the glass up to your lips, sipping it as you move to walk around.

“I thought big parties weren’t your thing?”

You turn around to your friend, Alisha, “They’re not, but you know I can’t turn down an open bar.” You joke, bringing the glass up to your lips.

“You mean, you can’t say no to Sam.” She smirks and shakes her head, “I know you, y/n. You can’t lie to me.”

“Okay.” You roll your eyes, “You got me on that one, but we just friends, you know. He deals me weed and we keep it at that. Easy peasy, lemon squeezey.”

“You’d let him squeeze your lemon if he asked.” She laughs into her glass and you push her, “Oh my god, shut your mouth.”

You take a sip of your drink, “But yes.”

You both laugh and you look around, “Speaking of. I gotta find him. I need to place an order.”

“You’re out already? Didn’t you just see him two days ago?” She raises her brows and you shake your head, “No, no. I want..” you move in, “I want to see if he has anything right now. I’m anxious as fuck being around all of these rich people.”

“Y/n.” She pauses, “You’re a part of these rich people.”

“What? Just because I’m good friends with the son of the people who own this place?”

She nods, “Yeah. Kinda.”

You shake your head, perking up when you see Sam making his way down the steps, “Oh. There he is.” You chug your drink and hand it to Alisha, “Take care of this for me?”

She scoffs at your empty glass in her hand, but takes it anyway, “Just tell him you love him already.”

“Not gonna happen.” You glance back at her as you walk away and smirk, turning to make your way through the crowd.

Sam looks around, doing a double take when he sees you. He smiles and lifts his hand to wave, looking back at the man he’s talking to, “Hey, I’ll find you later.”

You smirk, tilting your head as he walks up to you, “I thought you weren’t coming?”

You shrug, “Changed my mind, I guess.”

He smiles, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, I’ve already had three.” You laugh and he raises his brows, “Already? Didn’t you just get here?”

You laugh, “You know crowded places like this make me anxious.” You look around and back at him as he tilts his head, “Uh huh.”

You step closer, “You um, wanna disappear for a little bit?”

“Y/n y/l/n. Are you trying to avoid this party?” Sam fights back a smirk and you sigh, groaning as you tilt your head back, “Sam.”

“Ask nicely and maybe I’ll consider it.” He smirks and you fight back a smile, “I did ask nicely.”

“Did you?” He squints and tilts his head and you laugh, “Sam. Please.”

“Oh beggin’ me now, huh?” He leans in, “I kinda like that.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“Do you?” You ask, rolling with the punches, “Cause, I can do a lot more if you help me out.” You look up at him, tilting your head as you bat your lashes.

“If I give this to you, what do I get in return, hmm?”

You could tell he was joking, but you shake your head, letting out a sigh as you speak nothing but the truth, “Maybe you’ll get the confession of being so in love with you that it hurts, or you’ll get me on my knees, your pick.”

His brows flick up and he takes a shaky breath, “I was thinking more along the lines of you won’t leave this party early but goddamn, y/n.” He wraps his arm around your waist, “I’m good with getting both of those options.” He nods, “C’mon.”

You bite your lip as you walk with him, your hand gripping his jacket as he leads you towards the elevator.

“Sam.” A voice calls out, “Where are you going?”

He turns, you still attached to his hips, “Upstairs.”

The man glances at you and he sighs, “You have the toast to make here soon.”

Sam looks at the elevator as the doors open, “Just stall. I’ll be back soon.” He nudges you towards the elevator and walks in behind you.

The doors aren’t even closed yet and your leg is already brought up next to his hip, his hand holding your thigh as his lips attack yours, “So..” he says in between kisses, “You love me, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.” You smile, tilting your head back as he kisses down your neck, “And I promise, it’s not just because you’re my dealer.”

“Oh good.” Sam leans back, brushing hair from your face, “I was hoping it was my charming personality that caught your attention.”

You laugh, “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons.” You pull him back in, moaning lowly as he bites down on your lower lip.

The doors open and he pulls you forward as he walks backwards off of the elevator. He spins, your hand in his as he leads you down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you glance over at him.

He looks over at you as he pulls a keycard from his pants pocket, “My penthouse suite.” He smirks, “That a problem?”

You shake your head as he pushes the door open, “Nothing about any of this is a problem.”

You walk in and Sam is right behind you, his hand grabbing yours as he pushes the door closed with the other, “Where are you rushing off to? Thought you wanted something first?”

“Rearranging things is never a problem.” You pull him towards you, your hands sliding up to push his jacket off of his shoulders as he leans in to kiss you.

He pushes his jacket off before his hands find your hips, squeezing as he walks you back into the wall. His hand slides down, pulling the slit of your dress up further, “God, you are so beautiful.”

You smile against his lips, “I came here tonight just for you.”

“I figured.” He chuckles and steps back, “Come on.” He leads you into his room and you raise your brows, “Wow. All of this and just you?”

He wraps his arms around you and sighs, “Yeah, well that’s what happens when the person you like doesn’t say anything to you until now.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk, “My apologies Mr. Golbach.”

“Mhm.” He smiles and reaches up with one hand to cup your cheek before planting a kiss on your lips, “How about you get that dress off now.”

You feel the zipper on the back slide down, revealing your back and you gasp quietly before it drops down to the floor, pooling at your feet.

He walks you back to the bed, his lips trailing up and down your neck before your legs hit the edge, causing you to sit down.

He drops down to his knees, reaching up to pull your panties down your legs. He tosses them down before pushing your knees apart. You lean back onto your elbows, watching as he lifts your one leg over his shoulder.

He dips his head down, his tongue trailing up your slit and you gasp out, your body shifting as you move your arm to lay a hand on his head, “S-Sam!”

He groans against you as his tongue pushes in.

“F-fuck, fuck.” Your head tilts back, moans leaving your lips as Sam move his tongue to your clit. You watch down at him, his eyes on you as your face scrunches with pleasure, “Sam.. Sam..” you pant, “P-please.”

He pulls away, undoing his shirt as quickly as he can before undoing his belt and dropping his dress pants.

You bite your lip as your eyes fixate on the cock online in his boxers, the walls of your pussy clenching around nothing.

You continue to watch as his boxers leave his body and he starts to crawl up the bed as you move up, lying back as his body hovers over yours.

Your hands slide up his arms, legs spreading further apart as you feel the tip of his cock bump against your folds.

He pushes his hips forward, groaning lowly as his cock enters inside.

You tilt your head back more, the nails on your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders as you let out loud moan after moan.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Sam moans lowly into your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin, “So fucking good.”

Your arms tighten around his neck as you tilt your head up to smash your lips against his.

He swallows your moans with ease, groaning as his thrusts pick up, “Feel good, baby?”

“Yes!” You moan loudly, gasping as you squeeze his cock, “Fuck, yes, yes. So good!”

He slides his hand up, laying it around your throat as he moans into your ear, “takin’ me so well, sweetheart.”

He leans up, hand still on your throat, “Fuck.” He groans as he looks down, watching his cock slip in and out of you, “So fucking hot.”

His eyes move back to your face, head tilting as he watches your eyes roll back with the harder he squeezes.

He bites down onto his lip, tilting his head back before letting go. His lips on hours muffled his groan and you wrap your legs tight around his waist, whining out, “So.. fuuuck, I’m right there, baby.”

Sam sucks a hickey onto your neck, groaning against you as he feels your walls spasm around him. Your limbs holding him tight as your back lifts up off the bed and your moans glide through the room.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, good girl.”

Your breath hitches and your head snaps back to look at him. He smirks, “Ya like that or something?”

“Coming from you?” You smirk, gasping as his thrusts deeper, “Y-Yes.. a lot.”

He bites down on his lip, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I can give you a lot more if you let me.” He kisses up your jaw and to your lips, swallowing your moans as his thrusts resume.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning out as his grip on your outer thigh grows tighter, “Fuck, fuck, don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

“Goddamn.” Sam groans as he buries his face into your neck, moaning as his cock twitches inside of you. His thrusts slow down, slowly pushing his cum deeper into you.

He presses a few kisses to your neck, moving to your lips before rolling off of you, “So, how about that J now?”

You roll over, “Oh fuck, I forgot all about that.”

“That’s what you wanted first, wasn’t it?” Sam chuckles as he presses a kiss to your forward before getting up.

“I mean, it was, but like I said, I’m not worried about rearranging.” You smirk and sit up, moving to grab your panties and slip them on.

You walk over and watch as he brings the joint to his lips, “Here.” He breathes out, “I’m gonna get redressed.”

You groan before taking a drag, turning to watch him grab his clothes. You exhale the smoke, “We still have to do that?”

He laughs, nodding his head as he slips on his boxers and pants, “Yes, babe. We do. Well, I do. If you want to hang out-“

“No.” You shake your head, “I’m good to go.” You take another hit and smile as you walk over to him. You blow out the smoke, “As long as I’m with you down there, I’ll be good.”

“You can be wherever with me.” He smiles as he takes the joint from your fingers. You smile and watch as he takes a hit before giving it back, “You know..” he blows out the smoke, “You’ll have to pay for this later.”

You bite your lip, “Yeah?” You tilt your head, taking a drag, “What do you want?” You hold it for a few more seconds and exhale as he chuckles, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

He flicks his brows up and pecks your cheek, “Get dressed.”

You hand him back the joint and walk over to grab your dress, “You’ll be paying for this later.” You tease as you slip your dress up your body.

Sam walks over, “Yeah, what do you want?”

You smirk, glancing over your shoulder, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Wow okay, idk how I feel about this, I like the ending but idkkkkk let me know. I love you all so much for reading my stuff. You mean the world to me! I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[gilbertscurls]

Consume ➵ Matt Sturniolo

synopsis: you finds yourself at a crowded party, but your mind is fixated on matt, the steady presence in your life who's recently stirred unfamiliar feelings within you.

The music pulsed through the crowded room, the bass reverberating in your chest as you weaved your way through the party. Neon lights flickered above, casting everyone in a hazy glow of reds and blues. You spotted Matt leaning against the bar, his head tilted back slightly as he took a long sip of his drink. His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, and his signature cool, effortless demeanor was as present as ever.

You weren’t sure when it had started—this unshakable pull toward him. He was always a constant in her life, the steady friend, the one who never let emotions show too clearly. But recently, every time you were in the same room, it was like a magnetic force pulled you closer, making your stomach twist with a kind of nervous energy you weren’t used to.

And now, with the low lights casting shadows across his sharp features and his black jacket hugging his frame just right, that pull was undeniable. You couldn’t help it. You were drawn to him, maybe even consumed by him.

“Y/N!” a voice called out from behind you, snapping you from your daze. You turned to see Chris and Nick waving her over.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, though your eyes flickered back to Matt. Chris followed your gaze, smirking.

“Can’t stop staring at our boy, huh?” Chris teased, nudging your shoulder. “I see the way you look at him.”

You shot him a warning glance, your face growing hot. “Shut up.”

Nick raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He always knew when to stay out of things. But Chris? Not so much.

Before you could say anything else, Chris gave you a knowing grin and strolled toward the bar, Nick trailing behind him. That left you standing awkwardly a few feet away from Matt, your heart pounding harder than it should have been. You were about to walk over when, suddenly, he turned and met your gaze.

The air between you seemed to thicken instantly, the noise of the party fading to a distant hum. His dark eyes held yours, steady and unreadable, but something in his expression flickered. He motioned you over, and without thinking, you obeyed, your feet carrying you to him before your brain could catch up.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the music. “You good?”

You nodded, though you didn’t feel good. You felt out of control, your body reacting to his presence in ways that made you feel dizzy. You caught the slight downturn of his lips, a look of concern flashing across his face.

“You seem… Off tonight.”

You wanted to laugh at that. Off? If only he knew. You were so far from “off,” you didn’t know how to describe it. Instead of explaining yourself, though, you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could feel the weight of his attention. It was suffocating but also addictive, like you couldn’t get enough. Before you realized what was happening, Matt set his drink down and leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper in your ear.

“Come outside with me.”

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement, and you didn’t hesitate to follow him as he made his way through the crowd. You both stepped out into the crisp night air, the streetlights casting long shadows across the sidewalk. The party still raged inside, but out here, it was just the two of you.

Matt turned to face you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you just stood there, the city lights glowing softly around you. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling the chill, but it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver.

“Y/N…” His voice was soft now, almost hesitant. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the simple touch sent a shock through your system. “You don’t have to act like nothing’s going on. I see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “See what?”

He stepped closer, his hand lingering near your cheek. “This… Thing between us.”

You opened her mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in your throat. Of course, he’d noticed. How could he not? It had been building for months, this undeniable tension, this pull that had you thinking about him constantly.

“You can feel it too, right?” His voice was low, his eyes locked on yours, and the intensity in his gaze was overwhelming.

You nodded, unable to deny it anymore.

He closed the distance between them, his hand now cupping your cheek. “It’s been driving me crazy,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I see you…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. You knew exactly what he meant because you felt it too—the constant, maddening thoughts of him that had been consuming you for weeks.

Before you could respond, Matt’s lips brushed against yours, softly at first, almost like he was testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened, his hands slipping around your waist and pulling you closer.

It was intoxicating, the way his touch sent sparks through you, the way the world seemed to fall away. You kissed him back with a kind of urgency that surprised you, like you’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

But as much as you wanted this, as much as you craved him, there was a part of you that knew this was dangerous. There was something dark about it, something that felt like it would consume you if you let it.

You broke the kiss, stepping back slightly, your breathing ragged. “Matt…”

“I know,” he said, his voice rough, his eyes still filled with that same burning intensity. “I know this is complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you whispered, your heart racing. “What if… What if we ruin everything?”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening. “Maybe we will,” he admitted. “But maybe… Maybe it’s worth it.”

You hesitated, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. This was Matt—your steady, reliable Matt. But the way he was looking at you now, the way he had kissed you, it felt different. Dangerous. Like stepping off a cliff and not knowing where you would land.

But maybe, just maybe, you didn’t care.

You reached for him again, pulling him back into your arms. If this was going to consume you, you might as well fall headfirst into it.

And as his lips met yours again, all thoughts of caution melted away, leaving nothing but the raw, electric energy between you.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[elllisaaa]

can u do bf seungkwan thoughts please <33

BF!SEUNGKWAN who's both your partner but also your best friend.

one of his favourite things about you is that he can ramble to you without feeling you being uninterested because he knows you listen closely to every one of his words. everytime seungkwan needs to vent about a situation with someone or at work, he knows he can just yap for hours to you. and he likes it when you do the same, likes it even more when you're going on and on about a topic you like. i'm actually convinced that seungkwan keeps a list of all the things you like and dislike in his phone. on the same line, there's obviously gossiping sessions every week for the two of you - you settle with a hot drink on the couch and update each other on every ongoing drama or random thing that happened to you. that leads to seungkwan knowing every little annoying or funny person in your life, and even the names of your exes. he's the type to fake gag every time they are mentioned, but it's okay because you do the same with him. it's actually endearing how you can tease each other by making references to the things you gossip about and that only you and him understand.

"i have so many things to tell you when I get home tonight baby ! you're not gonna believe it."

seungkwan loves to spend some quality time with you. he's really busy because of his job, but every free moment he has, he spends it with you. even if it's just you coming to see him practice when you have time, or him sitting by your side while you're getting some work done, he's just happy to have your presence by his side, to feel that you're here with him. one of your rituals together is doing each other's skincare and hair. it's so relaxing to have your fingers applying creams and serum on his skin after a good shower, while you softly tell him about your day. and seungkwan does the same for you whenever you're tired, brushing your hair for you or braiding them when you don't have the energy either. another activity you love to do together is go shopping, be that for clothes, decorations items for your apartment, shoes and so on, you always have a good time and it allows him to offer some things to you. it's also an occasion to take cute pictures of the both of you on any mirror you cross, his gallery filled with these photos that he spends all his time looking at when he's away.

"i keep staring at your pretty face on my phone, i can't wait to come back to you."

another one of his love languages is physical touch. every night is worth cuddling, every time you snuggle on the couch together is worth wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on his lap, every time you cook is a chance to back hug you and kiss your shoulders. in conclusion, there's a bunch of cuddles all the time, not that you complain of course. also, seungkwan often gives you random kisses throughout the day - on your cheeks, your lips, your temples or your nose, he likes to see your cute smile every time he surprises you with another loving peck. whenever you praise him, he feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest from too much adoration, his cheeks growing red. he scolds you and asks you to stop only because he's shy and you both know it. seungkwan love for you is obvious to anybody, and that shows through the way he always finds a way to mention you in every conversation, even when you are not there. everytime he repeats a fact that you taught him, he just has to let everyone know who told him that.

"yeah, actually y/n told me that last week, she's so smart."

BF!SEUNGKWAN who is literally obsessed with your body and the way you react to his touch, wanting nothing more than to please you.

seungkwan needs to give you everything you want, you just have to ask for it. be that his fingers, his mouth, or his cock, he's ready to give them all to you. he literally worships your body every chance he gets, every time you wear something a little revealing or tighter, seungkwan loses his mind. he wants to touch you all the time, to have his hands on you all the time. he often overstimulates you unknowingly, driving you insane just because he cannot get enough of the way you look and react when you cum. your moans turns him on a lot too, he's drinking every little sound you make. sex with seungkwan is very passionate and intimate - as much contact as possible between your body and his, lots of kisses and marks all over both your skins. he's often holding your hands too - when he's fucking you lazily, when he's eating you out and even when you're going down on your knees to suck him off. seungkwan wants you to know that he loves you and cares for you throughout the whole thing.

"your body's so fucking beautiful baby, i can't get enough of you."

in fact, he loves your body so much that he needs to take more spicy pictures of you with him when he's away, or he's getting withdrawal. seungkwan has a private folder in his phone filled with videos and photos of you or the two of you to help him get off when you're not there. there's videos of you sucking him off, touching him, riding him, unraveling while he's eating you out. there's pics of you in lingerie, touching yourself, completely bare in your mirror, wearing tight clothes that makes him hard just thinking about it. he also loves to take polaroid pictures in these moments. he has to hide them very well to be sure that no one except the two of you will ever see them, but it turns him on even more to have a material object reminding him of how good you feel around him. seungkwan can be a tease sometimes, so he will put these polaroïds in your bag sometimes or around the house for you to find them at such random moments, wanting nothing more than getting you turned on enough so that it would lead to the bedroom. also, he will lose his mind if you surprise him with new polaroids of you before he goes away, slipping them in his suitcase and he doesn't notice until he unpacks at the hotel.

"you're crazy, one of the guys could have seen this !" - "does this mean you don't like them ?" - "don't start, you know i'm gonna jerk off to your gorgeous body later."

again, intimacy is really important for seungkwan whenever the two of you are having a moment. and the highest form of intimacy in his eyes is when you let him cum inside of you. sure, he likes to just pull out and watch his release cover your pretty body. sure, he liked it when you deepthroat him and make him shoot his load down in your mouth. he loves it all. but he feels even better, even closer to you when you let him cum inside of your pussy. having your legs and arms wrapped around him, your moans falling directly in his ears, his hands holding your waist, and your walls milking him dry is definitely the best feeling ever. seungkwan insisted on keeping up with the condoms for a long time - he doesn't want to be a father just yet, he wanted to be sure that you were doing okay with your contraception. but the day he sank into you raw, his world was changed and he never wanted to come back in time. it felt like heaven every time, and he came embarrassingly fast the first time, even today, he's still not used to feeling your wet cunt without any barriers.

"s-shit… you feel so good, i'm not gonna last."

[0omillo0]

Han x Reader … Hurt/Comfort

this is a vent post

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱

The argument had started over something trivial—maybe the dishes, or a canceled plan. You couldn’t even remember. But now it had escalated, words flying between you and Han like daggers, sharper than intended. The tension had been simmering for days, both of you stressed from work, from life, from everything that felt like it was pulling you in opposite directions.

Han stood a few feet away from you, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. You could see the frustration etched into his features, the way his brows furrowed in anger, and it made your chest tighten. The air felt heavy, oppressive, and the weight of it was pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

“I don’t get it, y/n. Why can’t you just—”

“Just what, Han?!” you cut him off, your voice rising in defense, tired of feeling like you were constantly falling short. “I’m trying! I’ve been trying, but nothing’s ever good enough, is it?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I’m saying! You’re twisting my words.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline mixing with anxiety as you felt yourself being cornered. You had been here before. This exact feeling. You’d grown up in this kind of chaos, in the shouting, the accusations. In a home where every argument turned into a battlefield, and you had always been the one caught in the crossfire.

“I’m not twisting anything,” you shot back, but your voice trembled, betraying the fear you were trying to bury.

Han’s face was strained, his eyes dark with emotion. And then it happened—the moment he raised his voice, the moment his tone shifted. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even directed at you, but it was enough.

“Goddamn it, just listen to me for once!”

His words echoed in the room, louder than they needed to be, and in an instant, everything inside you collapsed. You froze. Your breath caught in your throat, and it was like you were transported back to a time when every raised voice had meant danger, meant pain.

Han saw it—saw the way your entire body went rigid, the way your eyes widened in fear. His face softened, his mouth opening as if to apologize, but it was too late. The damage was done.

You couldn’t be here. You needed to get out. Now.

“Y/n, wait—”

But you were already grabbing your jacket, your hands shaking as you fumbled with the zipper. Without another word, you turned on your heel and bolted for the door, your heart hammering in your chest. You barely heard Han calling after you, his voice muffled by the roaring in your ears as you sprinted down the street, the rain hitting your skin like icy needles.

---

You didn’t know how far you’d walked or how long it had been. The rain was relentless, coming down in heavy sheets that soaked through your clothes, plastering your hair to your face. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore; you were numb. Numb to everything except the pounding of your heart and the ringing of Han’s raised voice in your ears.

Eventually, you found yourself standing in front of a Seven-Eleven, the neon sign flickering like a dying heartbeat. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter. You pushed the door open, the warmth of the fluorescent lights washing over you as you stepped inside, dripping wet and shivering.

The clerk glanced at you with mild concern, but you ignored it, heading to the back of the store where the windows overlooked the storm outside. You sat down on a bench by the vending machines, curling into yourself, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees as you stared blankly at the rain pounding against the glass.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you ignored it, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You felt stupid. Why had you run? Why had you let yourself fall apart over something so small? But it wasn’t small. It had never been small. The years of trauma, of living in a household that was a constant war zone—it had left you fragile in ways you hadn’t even realized until now.

Your phone buzzed again. And again. The screen lit up with Han’s name—ten missed calls, and the eleventh one ringing through.

On the twelfth, you finally answered, your voice barely a whisper. “What do you want, Han?”

His voice was breathless on the other end, tinged with desperation. “Y/n… thank God. I’ve been calling you. I was so worried. Please, just tell me where you are.”

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes though they were already wet from the rain. “I—I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I know you’re not. Please, y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I swear. I—fuck, I didn’t realize… Please, let me come get you.”

Your throat tightened, the tears finally spilling over as you choked out a sob. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Tell me where you are. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“I’m at the Seven-Eleven on 4th Street.”

“I’m coming. Don’t move.”

---

He arrived quicker than you thought he would, his car screeching to a stop outside the store. You watched through the glass as he jumped out, his hair and clothes instantly drenched in the rain, but he didn’t seem to care. The moment he walked inside and saw you sitting there, his entire face crumbled with guilt.

He rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, his hands hovering near your arms but not touching you, as if he was afraid you’d pull away. “Y/n… I’m so, so sorry.”

You couldn’t even look at him, your gaze fixed on the wet floor beneath you. “Why did you yell at me, Han?”

His breath hitched, his voice low and raw with emotion. “I didn’t mean to. I swear, I wasn’t thinking. I—God, I’m such an idiot. I didn’t realize how much that would hurt you. I never wanted to scare you.”

The sincerity in his voice made you look up, and when you saw the anguish in his eyes, something in you softened, despite the pain still lingering in your chest.

“You don’t get it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I grew up with yelling. It wasn’t just yelling—it was—”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off gently, his hand finally reaching for yours. “I should’ve known. I should’ve been better for you, y/n. I never want to be like them. Please believe me.”

You swallowed hard, your heart aching with the weight of it all. You didn’t want to be afraid of him. You didn’t want to run from him.

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to be, but I was.”

His face crumbled, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes. Just… please don’t shut me out.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the rain still beating against the windows like the storm between you was fading. Slowly, tentatively, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact, leaning into your touch, as if it was the only thing grounding him.

“I don’t want to run from you,” you whispered.

He opened his eyes, locking onto yours. “Then don’t. Let me be your safe place.”

Without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed, or desperate—it was an apology, a promise. When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered, his fingers entwined with yours.

For the first time that night, you nodded, knowing that home wasn’t a place—it was him.

[fandomxo00]

ok but imagine this: I can see your guilty as sin part 3 18+

You drive Logan crazy and he finds you in the library

You are back in Logan's class, in your usual class period and you were trying to take a test. But your eyes kept wondering over to your teacher, his dark grey t-shirt clung to his muscles. His beard was nicely trimmed, and you wanted to twirl the white pieces of hair on his temples.

You imagined stepping over his legs, setting your weigh on to his thighs while your hands land on his chest, feeling his pecs flex under your fingers. You would feel his belt buckle against your clit, his large hands would place on your waist. Imagine your lips colliding with his, since the first you kissed him, addicted to the feeling of his lips on yours. Logan had to swallow back a groan as he watched him with this lusty look in your eyes. And he could smell the slick that was starting to leak into your panties.

How would you react if he actually touched you? God he wanted you so badly. It was wrong but you were like a breath of fresh air, it was like was drowning and you kissed him. It was like all of his trauma all his insecurities and fears melted away because he was so enraptured with you. The way your lips slotted against his, the smell of your perfume filling his senses. Logan didn't think about being too old for you, he didn't think about you being far too innocent for him.

But you'd been able to leave, knowing that you were driving him crazy, you darted out of the room as quickly as possible. But he knew where you were going next period, and it was a study hall. So Logan took attendance before darting off out of the room and heading towards the library.

When he opened the door, he looked but didn't see you. But luckily he could seek you out, your perfume was like a trail to you. You were on your tippy toes, trying to reach a book that was far up. The skirt you were wearing came up to the tops of your thighs. Logan took two steps, his strides long as he got dealthy close to you before reaching up for the book. A shiver ran up your spine as you froze his other hand coming to your waist. "Here ya go." He handed you the book before he spun you around his eyes coming to yours in a heated daze.

logam stepped forward looking around to see the surroundings area clear, his hand came down to your skirt, slipping up the side and cupping your panties as his lips fit against yours. you moaned into his mouth, he hissed softly, "shhh, gonna get us caught. gonna be a good girl and be quiet for me?"

"yes-yes sir." you panted, nodding your head his fingers slid your panties to the side to feel the slickness that came out from your folds.

"all this for me?" logan husked.

"yes been been thinkin about all day." you stumbled over your words as you looked up into his eyes. his hand coming to cover your mouth as your mouth opened in a moan. your eyes clenching shut as his fingers slid into you. he roughly started fucking you with his fingers, as you gripped his shoulders for dear life. you couldn't believe you got to this point. you shattered around his fingers panting into his hand before he kissed you roughly on the mouth while you rode out your high.

logan brought his fingers up to his mouth to taste your essence, etching this moment in his mind so he could think about the way you tasted when he was alone. your hand came up to your hair pulling him into your mouth as your hand came over the tent in hid pants. then he pulled back, "cant do this here."

"then take me somewhere else." you begged.

"how about i take you out tonight?" he whispered looking down at you with soft eyes.

"take me out?" you grinned.

"i spoke to charles about you and he said i should treat a lady like you properly and i couldn't disagree." you giggled at his confession, your cheeks blooming as you leant forward to kiss his cheek.

"you did that?"

"ya for you, dont wanna hide."

"that was the appeal." you joked, kissing his jaw lightly.

"well not anymore sweetheart, think you can handle that?"

"yes please." you squeaked.

tags: @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

[ssailormoonn]

❛ REPUTATION ❜

YANDERE!Chrollo Lucilfer X Fem!Reader

WC; 900+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: chrollo is a yandere here, well he def ats like one, fem!reader, virgin!reader, AGE GAP, gonna say reader is around 18-20 bc she a virgin and a good girl, chrollo is still 26, possessiveness, claiming + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * REQUEST :: (filled request) Hi! Could you please write with yandere Chrollo and virgin female reader(she likes him, but didn’t want to be with him because of his reputation) - ANON

HONEY'S A/NOTE :: I WAS FEELING DIFFERENT DONT MIND THE PINK/PEACH THEME LMAO, lmk if you like it tho 👀

m.list | hxh m.list

You knew this was a mistake the moment you caught his eye.

Chrollo Lucilfer was the type of man who commanded attention. He's dark, unreadable, and dangerous. You'd been warned by friends, by acquaintances, by common sense to steer clear of him. None of them knew that he was the leader of the Phantom troupe, but they could tell that something was up with him.

You, on the other hand, knew very well who he was. He had made it loud and clear that should you ever leave or do anything rash, Chrollo was in a position to threaten you with all he could do. Every time being on duty with him, fear always boiled up inside your stomach.

But the fear that was evident within you, there was just something so irresistible about him, something that couldn't make you stay away no matter how much you did. Chrollo's presence causes your heart to beat in ways that it really shouldn't. You, however, because of his reputation, are to be kept from him.

But standing now in this darkened room, boxed in by his stare, one knew there was no more escaping Chrollo.

Not anymore.

"I know what you're thinking," his voice is like silk. "You're afraid of me, you think you can keep your distance because of what you've heard. But you forget one thing."

He leans in closer, each movement intentional. His dark eyes never left yours, staring with an intensity that would make you want to shrink under his gaze, at the same time you wouldn't be able to look away.

"You want me, too."

Your breath had caught in your throat. How could he know? You'd tried so hard to conceal it, to deny the pull you felt whenever you were near him. It was wrong, all wrong. But his tone made it sound as though you had no say in the matter.

"Chrollo, I... I can't." Your voice less than a whisper. "You're dangerous. I don't want to get involved in. whatever this is. whatever you do."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the touch sent your heart racing even faster. You suck in the air shakily while your lip trembled softly.

"I know that's hard to accept," he whispered, almost softly. "But I've made my decision already. You are mine. "

There was a finality in his words that dropped the bottom of your stomach into a sick feeling. This wasn't a silly love confession, this... this was more like he was claiming you. And much as you tried to deny it, the thought stirred something within you.

"Chrollo, I... I am not." You had managed to stammer out the words while a hot fire had burned in your cheeks.

How would you even explain that you have never been with anybody in your life? That part of you does want him, but the fear of his world and your inexperience holds you back? You have never done a relationship in your life, never kissed anyone, never touched anyone, never had sex.

His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze once more. Something... changed in his gaze.

"You're scared of what you don't know," he whispered. "That's okay. I can be patient. But don't you ever think otherwise. I will have you. Every piece of you."

His hand slid down, stroking your jawline, and a chill ran down your body. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his claim over you. It was terrifying and yet you enjoyed it.

"You can run from me if you want," he said, continuing now in a voice so much lower it terrified you. "But I'll find you. Always get what I want."

Your chest constricted as Chrollo left you no choice. He made it clear no matter what you did, he would find you and when he did. he would take you in every sense of the word.

"I. I don't want to be a part of your world," you finally stammered out, beyond your shaking lips. "I can't."

He chuckled low and it was a shiver you felt run over your skin under his touch. "It doesn't matter. You're already a part of it. The moment I laid eyes on you, it was over. For both of us."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in, his lips caressing the shell of your ear.

"Accept it, love," he whispered. "You can't get away from me. Not now, not ever." "N-" Chrollo cut you off, his lips trailing up your neck, his voice low, humming against your skin. "You don't struggle against me. I'm going to take care of you. No one else can have you now. Can't you see? You're already mine, and nothing you say will change that."

His breathing was hot against your skin, the weakness rising inside you as the fear coiled in your body. But despite that, despite all you knew of him, the fact that he wanted you with such intent sent your heart racing within your chest.

Honestly, could you resist?

He drew back just enough to look into your eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew. Your gaze betrayed your thoughts, and he noticed, of course he fucking noticed.

"You're mine," he leans down, his warm breath dancing across your ear as your hands clench into fists against his black suit, trembling. "And I will make sure you never forget it."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[slutshamethesquirrels]

Suguru Blue - Part 3

Pairing: cult leader!geto x reader

Word Count (Part 3): 4K

Warnings: dub-con, rough sex, mentions of violence, sexual trauma, murder, mind games

From then on, he was playing a new game. One he’d never before played, and one he wasn't very fond of. He’d always been a sore loser.

It was part of his problem with Satoru all those years ago. The white haired beauty had forever been two steps ahead of him in almost every facet, whether that be skill or strength or sheer willpower. Satoru was always just a bit better in every way. An inch or two taller, a smartass retort just a second quicker, the bravery to kiss another boy just seconds before he himself had built up the confidence to do so. It was only natural that the only person who could be even more prideful than himself was Gojo. He knew he had no chance of convincing him to join himself in his defection; to do so would be convincing him they were on the losing side of history.

When the time came, he couldn't even look at him, knowing the ultramarine eyes of someone who once trusted- once loved him were boring holes in the back of his skull. But in a way, he'd finally won. The victory wasn't sweet. Going back on that decision would be to admit defeat yet again, so he never had.

Victory tasted a lot like curses sometimes, he decided, but not as intense. Less of an assault on your tastebuds and more of a kind of bile and acid constantly lodged in the back of his throat. Perhaps it was his urge to finally taste something a little sweeter that had him bending over backwards for you.

It was uncomfortable at first, practicing your stupid therapy terms. Boundaries strangled him. Coping Mechanisms felt like a serrated knife to his jugular. Repairing and Rebuilding felt like getting tossed down the stairs of some abandoned hotel by a first-grade curse at sixteen years old, every step knocking the wind from his chest.

It was helping, though. Whether he liked it or not. His first real reality check had come not from you, but from Nanako, who’d casually pointed out over breakfast how happy he’d seemed recently. He didn’t know if that word had ever been used to describe him, and he wasn’t sure he’d use it himself.

And still. This had to be at least close, right?

Here, on the couch with you, some old band he didn’t know emanating from the television, the screen just bright enough to cast shadows on the walls of your living room. There’s a faint acknowledgement swirling in the back of his brain that there was midday sunlight streaming in through the windows when he’d settled here with you nestled against the plush of the sofa, but he can’t care, not when your giggles are flooding his ears, your shoulders shaking against him as you scroll through social media. In the past fifteen minutes or so, you’d found an account full of cat videos, and he’d found himself entranced by just how easily you were amused.

He was learning a lot about you. You didn’t have many friends, but the ones you did were incredibly good ones (“Quality over quantity”, you’d said.) , you preferred fruity sweets to chocolate ones, you had the most irritating habit of getting in bed with your socks on and then kicking them off in the night. Each new detail was a brush stroke, your quail feather pen dipping into indigo ink and broadening his horizons, somehow without the slightest hint of knowledge about his world.

He wanted to tell you, to kneel at your altar and confess his transgressions, but he couldn't even expect God to have mercy on him, much less a monkey- human girl.

In another world, another life, somewhere far away from reality it’s different. He decides as he twirls his fingers through a loc of your hair, watching the way the lapis glow from your phone screen makes it shine. It's just the three of you; You, Satoru and himself. The two of you fight over who gets to sleep in the middle damn near nightly, and he ends up taking the spot for himself. He swears it's to stop the bickering, but the truth is he loves the way your individual breaths caress either side of his neck. It is because he feels the best trapped underneath the weight of the both of you. It's because he knows you'll fall asleep first and he'll get the last kiss from Satoru, but not before he watches one half of his soul trace the other one's sleeping features with his fingers-

“Hello? So far away.” Your voice cuts through the fantasy, and he’s ripped back into reality, clearing his throat as if he'd just been caught doing something wrong before humming in acknowledgment. You had a habit of making him feel raw, but right. Like a callous cut from a heel. Tender, painful, exposed, refreshed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You prod again when he doesn’t elaborate, and he chuckles.

“Just a penny? I’ll have you know, these are expensive ideas-”.

“A nickel then.”.

“Quarter.”.

“Okay, listen dude. I know the economy’s bad but holy shit.”.

He smirks as you discard your phone on the table and crawl up his body until you’re straddling his abdomen, his hands gently cradling your waist. It's the closest you’ve allowed him to get in a while, and it makes his skin itch. Though if he's honest, he doesn't know what to do when you finally let him truly touch you again. These days you felt more fragile than you used to, or maybe that wasn't the word he was looking for.

Not fragile, but delicate.

You were healing just as much as he was. Every time he saw you it seemed he made a new mistake. When he would move too fast and you’d jump, only to grab his hand and assure him you were okay. When he'd get a little too quiet, furrow his brow in thought and catch you staring at him like a deer in headlights. When he rolled over to hold you in the middle of the night last week and you’d awoken in a complete panic, desperately crawling away from him and gasping your safe word before he’d reoriented you.

“Blue!”

He didn't want to be the cause of your nightmares. And yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Not even for your own good. He’d done that before. This time, he was determined to do it differently.

Your hand moves to brush his hair back away from his face, and his eyes flutter shut almost as if to spite him. Vulnerable, raw. Hurts.

He's unsure if he's annoyed by or thankful for the shrill and sudden ringing emanating from the pocket of his hoodie, and at this hour there was really only one option for who it could be. And no matter how much he enjoyed his time with you, they would always come first. He can't explain why it is that he grabs the front of your shirt to keep you there as he shifts and produces his phone from his pocket and presses it to his ear. There's something in him that craves the pain, it seems.

Nanako doesn't wait for him to greet her before she starts.

“Are you coming home or not?!”

Somewhere in the distance he hears her twin chastising her for being so rude, and he cracks a fond grin at the sound, his eyes watching his own hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt as he argues with her. Yes, he's aware he’d been away quite a bit in the past week. No, of course he didn't hate them or wish them a slow and painful death. Yes, he would be home when they awoke in the morning. Yes, they could go out for breakfast.

When his eyes meet yours again your brow is furrowed, confusion twisting your pretty features.

“Who was that?” You ask, and he notices your shoulders growing tense. You didn't fully trust him yet, like a dog that had been wounded by a hand that was supposed to lead.

He flips through his repertoire of rules. Communication, honesty, vulnerability. Did it count when it came to his home life? Of course, he could never be completely honest with you, or at least not anytime soon. There was a large part of him that hoped he'd meet his end before he was cornered into breaking your heart like that. You were the only one that could make him feel real guilt. It was the one thing you possessed that Satoru didn't. Regardless, he had to at least try, to give you what he could.

“My kids.” His grip on you tightens as he watches emotion swirl in your eyes, unwilling to let you mentally or physically run from him until he could explain.

“They're not my blood. Fate brought us together when I was around nineteen. They were in a bad place, so was I. At the time, I think all three of us needed someone who understood… we just kind of never left each other.”

You soften a bit and he mirrors you, melting back into the couch as you seem to relax some. He loves that feeling, he realizes. There's some sort of reward center in his body that seems to be triggered only by your approval. It feels like when he used to steal Satoru's expensive jackets in the winter. Warm. Heavy.

“Nineteen is really young to take on two kids.” You murmur.

He can't exactly wrap his head around the way you're looking at him, so he just pulls you down into the crook of his neck instead, wrapping his arms around your frame.

“You're correct. Of all the mistakes I’ve made, though, that's not one of them. I’d do it all over again for them.”

“You're sweet.”

He doesn't respond, too focused on the way your breath is fanning across his neck to argue with you.

***

He can't justify his actions.

None of them. He’d never made a single rational decision in his life, actually. Geto was a rollercoaster of contradictions and conundrums, but somehow things always worked out. He survived, preserved, weathered the storm time and time again. His foundation was solid, though the paint on his walls weathered and the windows of his soul were cracked and patched with trash bags and duct tape.

He’d always been strong. Resolute. Assured.

So why, then, was he here? Standing at the door of your apartment in the dead of night, trying to find the will in himself to knock? Like you might reject him? You had every right to reject him. You should reject him.

He needed you. Never in his life had he needed anyone, but he was certain the weight in his stomach would crush him if he couldn't see you. Quickly. You’d become a strange safe haven for his sensitivities, something he wasn't all that happy about. It was like being stranded on a sinking ship.

Alone, he'd be able to consign himself to his fate, nothing but indigo waves spanning for miles around him. He could find a sense of calm in the inevitable.

You were a lighthouse. A beacon of hope in the distance. You gave him the idea that there was a way out of his fate, and with it, all the anxiety of chasing that faith. You gave him a chance, choice, and raised the stakes to desperate levels. Without you, there would be none.

He isn't sure what's worse, but he knocks anyway.

It takes you a minute and a few more rounds of knocking, but just when he's about to turn on his heel the door swings open.

“Suguru?” The half question comes through a yawn as one of your hands moves to scrub at your eyes with a balled fist. He’d feel bad for waking you if you didn't look so angelic in your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt. Your knotted hair frames your face in a way that makes you look younger, softer, more vulnerable.

He immediately feels a little lighter.

“I-”

Right. Here he was, running to you for comfort, with no good excuse as to why. He didn't even understand it himself.

“I had a nightmare.” He can't look at you when he says it.

A small hum escapes you, along with a yawn, and then you’re stepping to the side, motioning him in. He hopes you're too tired to notice the tension in his gate, the way his skin bristles like he’s stepped past the barrier of a veil and directly into a domain, like there was a guaranteed hit barreling his way and he could do nothing but his best to protect himself. He’d walked the floor of your apartment so many times, slept in your bed, ate at your table– so why now did it feel foreign? Why did the click of your lock behind him sound like the cock of Toji Fushiguro’s revolver?

He shouldn’t have come here. Not in such a chaotic state. He should’ve waited until the sun was out, until the sky was painted a much lighter shade of blue; one that wasn’t so difficult to see through.

Your fingers find his wrist, tugging him lazily back to a bed he considered sacred.

He lets you.

He lets you get settled, guide him forward, pull him down to you with delicate fingers on his arms, his shoulders, his jaw– until you’re tucking him into the crook of your neck, undoing the hasty bun he’d made out of his hair on his way over, massaging his scalp with your fingers– soothing him.

“I’m too heavy for you, y/n.”

It was true in more ways than you could possibly conceive of, but you only pull more of his body weight over your frame until your drowning in his hair, his broad shoulders, his battle-sculpted arms. The large scars that form an ‘x’ on his chest brush against the fabric of his tshirt, and it feels like they might tear open once again.

“Don’t care.” You sigh out, dipping one hand below the fabric of his shirt you rake your nails lightly along his back. He shudders, watches the way the moonlight streaming in through the window dances across his forearm, illuminating the scars you’d blessed him with.

He didn’t know where all his scars had come from, to keep count would be pointless. He kept track of the important ones, though. The four on his arm, the two across his chest, the bite mark on the inside of his thigh from where Satoru had gotten just a little too rough back in the sweltering dark of his dorm room. Sex was always like that with Satoru, with himself. Less of an act of love, and more one of consumption, of control, of power– of revenge. Another game to win.

“You deserve better.” He argues, self assured in at least that.

“I don’t want better.” You’re just as resolute as he is.

He lifts his head to protest, but you silence him by pressing your lips to his. It’s a comfort and a curse, a gentle hand and a closed fist, a lullaby and a jolt of electricity that makes every neuron in his body fire off in quick succession.

How long has it been since you kissed him? Did it always feel like this?

“Please.” The pathetic word escapes him before he can stop it. Would humans always be his weakness? You brought new meaning to the idea.

Another kiss, and then two, and then three. Chaste, gentle motions that burned worse than any fire he’d ever faced. His whimpers sing a song of mercy, knuckles ice white as he grips the bedsheets behind your head, head diving forward for more, more, more–

He wanted to consume you, swallow you down like one of his curses, pull you out when it benefited him, telepathically know where you are at all times, trap you in his web of darkness and chaos and never ever let you leave him. He licks into your mouth and you release a gasp that makes his stomach clench.

“Suguru.”

It sounds like a warning. His lips tremble when he parts from you, and he just can't move back as much as he knows you’d probably prefer. He rests his forehead against yours, keeps his eyes shut, breathes in deep drawls of your breath, whispers an apology.

Your hands card through his hair.

“You're really pretty, you know that?”

He peeks at you through heavy lids “So I've been told.”.

You roll your eyes and he grins, sly but genuine.

“I’m trying to be nice to you, dickhead.”.

This time, he giggles childishly as your hands push at his shoulders, guiding him flat on his back so you can straddle is waist. It's almost ridiculous, the way the heat of your body turns his insides to a blended mess of organs and raw emotions. His heart swells, his lungs tighten, his stomach flips, his cock twitches.

Your hands slip under his shirt, palms stroking against his skin as you slide it up over his head and toss it to the side. His abdomen flexes under the soft skin of your hands. Your fingers dance along the scars, trace his rigid form.

Your mouth replaces your hands, wet warm silk gliding down his chest, swirling methodically, flicking over his nipples. He gasps for air, fists your hair, trembles against the urge to fight you, begs himself to take your worship. He had no problem accepting it from anyone else, after all.

“You’re shaking” You note, but don't stop your assault on his senses, licking one long stripe from his naval to his neck, the way his back arches is mortifying.

It feels like forever you stay there, exchanging spit, moans, blotting each other purple with no teeth. All suction, pressure, aching.

When he finally dips his fingers past the band of your sweatpants he's met with an obscene amount of slick. He circles your clit a few times, swiping your whines out of your mouth with his tongue, panting when you get impatient all too quickly, reaching down to guide his fingers into your body.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, but he already knows the answer.

“More.”

Who was he to deny you?

It isn't long before you become insatiable, finding yourself sinking down on his cock with his sweats still gripping his thighs and your shirt still clinging to your frame, damp with sweat.

He loves the way you look when he splits you apart, lips quivering and brow furrowed as you struggle to accommodate him. He loves hollowing you out, carving a place for just him to nestle deep inside your pretty little body. He loves the way your pussy clenches, sucks him in, holds tight like he was meant to be slotted inside you, jerking against your cervix, painting you from the inside out with his precum.

He helps you, guides your hips as you bounce desperately against him, chasing your high shamelessly, melting his brain with every moan. Electricity strikes his body with each stroke, his muscles jerk in tandem.

You struggle when you get close, your thighs jerking against your own desire, pace stuttering. He thinks it's precious, the way you're edging yourself to tears with your sheer inability to keep up with yourself.

Eventually, though, he does find a bit of mercy within himself, flipping you over on your back, fucking into you steadily, toying with your clit.

You dig red stripes into his back as you come unglued, sink your teeth into his already bruised shoulder. He hopes the burn never fades.

When he cums, he doesn't pull out, stuffs you full of him, hopes you can feel it in your soul. Your legs lock around his waist, hips rut animalistically against him, making sure nothing goes to waste.

He can't win this game, he tells himself as he watches you sleep, traces your features with his fingers. There was no world in which you were safe. Not in this timeline, but maybe the next.

Which game was more childish? Thinking he could change anything for Satoru? Or thinking he could change anything for you?

He falls asleep with you nestled in his grip, sometime after the sky turns a bright baby blue.

[the-literal-kj]

SHOW THE WAY - A community theatre AU - NOW COMPLETE!

Chapters 10/10!

Good Omens fanfiction. 24k words. Rated M. Read it on A03.

Written for the 2024 Good Omens Theatre Reverse Bang, with concept & stunning art by the incomparable @illustrious-slimeman!

SUMMARY: There was a point in Crowley’s life when he wouldn’t have been caught dead aboard the Metro-North Railroad commuter train bound for the hell that was Connecticut. And yet, here he was. Far enough from New York City so his reputation doesn't precede him and at his latest gig as a lighting tech, he meets stuffy, rules-following, interim-director Aziraphale. But is there room enough in Greenwich for two drama queens?

CW: Mind the CWs at the start of each chapter!! Nothing too graphic. M-rated smut for dessert!

Thank you to my betas @hakunahistata, @gaiaseyes451, @angie-words, @ines2925, @playdohangel & @secretlywingedphantom and to the @goodomensafterdark and @whickberstreetwriters communities for all their support!!

Excerpt:

It tipped over into something beyond return, tumbling down the cliff’s edge, and Crowley wanted. Specifically, he wanted more. And he was going to start with that fucking bowtie. Right under Aziraphale’s chin, he gave the fabric a solid pull and felt it unravel beneath his fingers before moving swiftly on to that stiffly ironed — and was that starched? Oh my god — collared shirt, catching the barest hint of chest hair underneath his fingertips before– “You’ll ask for what you want.” Crowley’s hands flew back as if they’d touched a live wire before he could even form protests on his lips.  “You will ask,” Aziraphale repeated. Stern and steady.

Read the rest on A03!

💚 kj