#and he decides there's no stopping it and there's thus nothing to be done for it but hold on for the ride

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅𝙸𝙸. 𝙵𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, fucked up family relationships and drama, abusive relationships, tooth aching fluff, everyone is incredibly horny | WORD COUNT: 9k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: Life at home is the worst it's been in a long time, and you've never felt better.

Winter drags on in the wet, tedious sort of way that it does in Texas. Luckily for you, Joel Miller fills all those dull gaps with his own personal brand of sunshine. Morning kisses when he picks you up. Stopping somewhere to sit and have a morning coffee for 10 minutes and pulling faces when he tastes your overly sweetened caramel flavored drink. Sneaking kisses at the office when no one else is around. Sending flirtier and flirtier texts throughout the day until he comes to pick you up from the office and drives you home. 

It’s never been easy to shift from the nebulous bliss of being with him, but lately it’s even more challenging. It’s entirely possible the nature of your relationship advancing has created a stronger attachment and thus a stronger sense of loss when you have to part, but a large component of your misery whenever you have to say goodbye is the heavy, mercurial domestic picture that awaits your return every evening.

Kenzie continues to send texts, but you haven’t responded to any of them. You aren’t sure how to or if you even want to. Apologizing and making amends feels tempting and like the “obvious choice,” but you’ve grown sick and tired of placating and doing all the work to fix things in your relationships, especially when it always seems to be for someone who’s done wrong by you. So, you let it sit, and, before you know it, weeks of ghosting her fly by.

It’s not like you don’t have enough bullshit to deal with already. You do work full time, and when you get home it’s even more of a rotten environment than usual. Your dad has been on edge ever since Calum came to visit. He hadn’t spoken a word about it to you, although you had a feeling he was well aware that you knew exactly what had transpired. Instead of sitting with his own unpleasant feelings and thoughts in the aftermath, your dad had decided he’d rather distract himself from it with heavier drinking and lashing out at you.

Baskets of laundry flipped over because one shirt was “folded wrong.” Every plate in the house broken in half because you left the dishes in the sink from dinner one night. Holes punched into the hallway leading to your bedroom when his sports team lost a big match. Screaming at you until he was red in the face when you forgot to bring the mail in before it started raining.

It was the worst he’d been in a while, but something about Calum’s visit and Joel’s constant peripheral presence gave you the sort of resilience you’d long thought had been leached from you. There was nothing to do except ride this wave out and hope his wedding planning with Denise would start to serve as a distraction to shift focus away from you. She’d been overly eager to start outlining and scheduling right away, and you could tell it surprised your dad in a way that bordered on irritation.

But for now, you had to turn down Joel’s invitations to dinner at his house several times even though it shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces to have to tell him no. Worst of all was his unconditional, forgiving nature about it. You’d just say your dad was “strict” and “in bad moods” because of Calum’s visit. He’d tried pressing the subject once, but you shut it down immediately. It was bad enough having to deal with all this at home. When you were with Joel, you didn’t want to think about all that. Being with him was the only part of your life that wasn’t marred by your home life, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You wish you could tell him every day you’d love to stay for dinner and for bedtime and for all times. He’d mentioned how he “didn’t mean to keep buggin’ you about it” but that his house is quiet these days and he “misses the company.” He’d cringed at himself and laughed. “Christ, that sounds so fuckin’ pathetic.”

You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs how it made you feel warm and appreciated just to be wanted in his presence. To share his personal space with you like it was yours, too. How much you ached for him. How every time you had to say goodbye to him felt infinitely harder than the day before. 

You know you’ll get there eventually. Spending as much time as you please with him once you strike out on your own. Away from the toxic homelife keeping you from blooming into more than just a shell of your full potential. Separated enough from the dark cloud hanging around your head to understand how to speak freely and without fear of being abandoned. But, until then, you just have to take it day by day and keep reminding yourself there are good things on the horizon.

Eight times. You’d already turned him down eight times when he asked you to come have dinner with him at his house. Just something casual. No expectations. Just to enjoy each other for a little longer than the end of the work day. He’d only kept asking because you very clearly wanted to say yes. He wasn’t sure why you didn’t. Just another puzzle in the heaping pile of puzzles that already veiled you.

Your brother’s visit had revealed a few things, maybe more than you’d realized, but Joel hadn’t been successful in broaching that topic with you even though he’d tread so carefully in his approach. Your hackles were already raised when he inquired after your brother’s injuries and if they’d healed up. When Joel tried to be sly and ask the same of your father – a roundabout way of indirectly confirming he and Calum and gotten into that bad of a physical altercation – you’d briskly and coolly replied that “everyone was back to normal” and “thanks for asking.”

So, he left it at that, at least outwardly. Inwardly he’d begun to finally admit what’d been subconsciously festering for a while now: your dad was aggressive and volatile, past the point of somebody with a bad temper or an attitude problem. You’d never shown up with any physical indications that someone was hurting you, but Joel wasn’t stupid enough to think that external harm was the only type of mistreatment that could negatively impact someone, especially a parent to their child.

He wanted to get you away from your house as often as he could just because he didn’t know for certain you were truly safe there. If Calum had been on the receiving end of that, what sort of shit was coming your way? What did your dad deem necessary and appropriate when interacting with you? It was driving Joel insane with dread, but he focused his energy on what was within his control instead of worrying himself sick over everything else.

It’s why he’d started sending you goodnight texts that quickly turned into goodnight texts with pictures and sometimes goodnight texts with pictures and a phone call. Sometimes you’d share your screen with him – something he was completely unaware was possible and thus blown away by the concept – and pull up something on a streaming service app. You’d watch a show or part of a movie together and talk and laugh the whole way through.

It was a good way to spend time together, particularly since the opportunity for even moderate physical intimacy was practically nonexistent. Now that he’d had those small facets of you, that small taste of what he was missing, he was ravenous for everything that was you. Luckily for him, you never shied away from taking the lead on that.

10:28 p.m.

Your dad is passed out drunk by now. It should be safe to call Joel without any interruptions. You just hope he’s still awake. You were horny to the point of being antsy, and, while you weren’t sure exactly what it would entail, you knew a call to Joel would help things. The video call rings only a couple of times before his cheesy grin is taking up your screen.

“Hi, handsome,” you purr into your headphones.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greets in return. “You sittin’ in the dark again? Sure wish I could see more of you.”

You tap a low light lamp on your bedside table and dimly illuminate yourself for the call. For Joel.

“Pretty.”

“I, um, I guess I just wanted to call because I wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet,” you admit. 

“Me neither,” he says softly. “I’m glad you called. Love seeing your pretty face and hearin’ your voice.”

“What if there was… other stuff that was pretty to look at? And hear?” you propose in a throaty voice.

He perks up at the insinuation immediately. “Yeah? Whatcha got to show me, sweetheart?”

“I was just feeling sort of wound up, I guess, and I thought maybe you could, um, talk to me while I… you know.”

His lip twitches up, devilish and smug. “No idea what you mean. Gonna have to spell it out for me, I guess.”

You huff and roll your eyes, which just makes him chuckle. “When I came over that day and you were saying all that stuff to me, I really liked it. It, um, made me really wet. The stuff you were saying to me.”

Joel groans and tilts his head back. He gets closer to the camera like he can get a better look at you that way. “Yeah? Got you all wet talkin’ about how bad you need me to touch that soaked little pussy of yours?”

You let out a small gasp and nod vigorously. Your hand travels with a mind of its own below your clothes.

“Mmmmm, already touchin’ yourself? Take your panties off and spread out real wide for me.”

You comply and nearly tear your clothing with how forcefully you yank it down and off. You lay on your back and let gravity take your knees to the mattress on either side.

“Lemme see her.”

You hold the phone under the covers and angle it so your glistening arousal catches on the screen. For good measure you ghost a fingertip across your clit and over your entrance to spread the wetness and create more shiny contrast for Joel to gorge himself on.

“Put the other headphone down there,” he husks. “I wanna hear you touch yourself.”

You promptly pluck one of the earphones out and drop it between your legs. You give a test rub and triumph at how well the sound picks up. Joel notices as well and makes a strained throaty sound in response.

“Fuck yeah, that’s so good, sweetheart. Just like that is perfect.”

“Tell me what to do,” you breathe. You don’t want to think about anything. You don’t want to call the shots anymore. You want to hand it over to someone who will do all the decision making for you and turn you out the other side fully satisfied.

“You’re gonna take that finger and rub it right on that pretty little clit. Gonna write out on it who makes you get like this, all needy and wet. I want you to spell it out for me: j-o-e-l. Lemme see you spell it out for me, baby. Out loud so I can hear it.”

You whimper at the simplicity of it that somehow evokes so much command and control. It’s like he’s marking you as his territory without even being in the same room, and it makes the back of your neck prickle and sweat.

“J.”

His breathing is notably heavier as you begin spelling his name.

“O.”

“Nice and round. Just like that.”

“E.”

It’s hard to concentrate on keeping the phone angled so he can see everything, but you do your best.

“L.”

You let out a small sigh and relax your back into the mattress. “I put your name on me, but I know the real thing would’ve felt better,” you pout.

“Soon, okay? I promise real soon I’ll take care of you. For tonight we’re gonna make this work. You tell me what your favorite letter was to write on that pretty little clit of yours.”

“O and L felt really good.”

“Yeah? You do some O’s on it again while I get my cock out for you, okay? Got me fuckin’ hard as a rock over here listenin’ to ya.”

You do as he asks and rub small circles on your sensitive pearl. Your mouth goes a little dry watching him unzip his pants and pull his stiff length from his boxers. Your absentminded swirling grows faster when he grips it and eases vertically in smooth, slow tugs.

“You’re gonna go up and down now when you do L. Now watch me and see how fast I go, and you’re gonna go the same speed, okay?”

“Okay,” you quiver in excitement. 

You’ve never done anything like this before, and it’s exhilarating. You study his pace and mimic it on yourself. It’s a heady little exercise to watch him try not to rush, and everything feels like a warm fog around you as he picks up speed.

“Doin’ so good. Just like that. Look at how good you’re doin’ for me. Sound so pretty, too.”

It could be 5 minutes or 5 hours since you started. You’re so locked into following his tempo that time sort of softens and liquifies. The lewd sound of him spitting into his hand for lube takes you right up to the edge, and you tell him so.

“Hang on just a little longer, sweetheart. We’re gonna come at the same time. You just hang on a little longer,” he rasps. Your breathy panting and wet fingering sound loud in your ear, but you can still hear the slick drag of Joel’s fist as he jerks himself faster. His voice sounds ragged and pitched when he speaks now. “Okay, baby. You just – ah fuck – you just keep goin’ until you come for me. Make some pretty – christ – pretty sounds for me to come to, sweetheart. Give me those pretty sounds so I can come for you.”

“You’re gonna make me come,” you whine. 

“Keep goin’. Keep talkin’.”

“I’m thinking about if it was your hands instead of mine, and it’s gonna make me come.”

Joel doesn’t get another word in before the hot band in your lower belly snaps. You tuck your head sideways into your pillow to muffle your cries, which becomes much more difficult when you glance at your phone just in time to hear and see him moaning and shooting white ropes of spend. 

You stay quiet as you both come down from the intoxicating cloud of each other. You could drift off, peaceful and unaware, right then and there. Joel cleans himself up with some tissues, and, even in a nonsexual context, watching him hold and maneuver himself sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

“You feel good? Feel better now?”

“Yes,” you hum, all loose and mellowed. “Thank you.”

“Should be thanking you. You’re the one that made the call.”

“Next time’s your turn then,” you titter.

“Next time it’s gonna be in person, and next time instead of your fingers playin’ with that pretty little clit it’s gonna be my tongue spelling it out on you.”

One thing to always be grateful for: Joel Miller doesn’t break his promises.

Some of the downright alarming things Joel has seen and learned about your life recently are apparently of no concern to you. Noticeably more buoyant and lighthearted, you were more touchy, more talkative, more relaxed over the past few weeks, and as much as he’d like to claim it all as his impact, Joel knew a huge factor in your sudden radiant ease was getting to see your brother for the first time in months. 

He seemed like a good kid if not a little guarded, but at this point that just seemed to be a familial trait. You’d divulged – or let slip – that he hadn’t texted in all the time he’d been away because your dad had cut off his phone line and left him virtually stranded, and he didn’t know your number to reach out once he got a new line. You’d tensed up immediately after sharing that tidbit, but Joel had known you long enough to understand when he needed to train his emotions and make no sudden reactions or expressions. It sounded a bit callous to respond with “sounds like a pain in the ass,” but it was a better choice than ranting about how your dad sounded like a complete piece of shit who didn’t even deserve the title of father.

You’d relaxed again when that’s all he responded with, and he added it to the growing list of reasons why he had to frequently talk himself out of confronting your dad about what the fuck his problem was and threatening him within an inch of his life if he ever, ever thought about treating you with an iota of the same energy he gave your brother.

And the way Calum had seemed so earnest when saying his goodbyes and declaring his appreciation for Joel’s protectiveness for you, his big brave kind strong sister. It felt like an unspoken moment of gratitude, something deeper and weightier than just what was being said. Between everything that had gone down in your house on New Year’s and whatever had happened New Year’s Eve with your friend, he was surprised if not relieved to see you doing so well. It felt a little selfish to so quickly embrace this burgeoning relationship with you, but he couldn’t deny it felt right more than anything.

And when your file came across his screen when he was double checking stubs for payday, it felt like a sign from the universe that he caught the tiny numbers next to your name that revealed a February birthdate. It was roughly a week and a half away, but that was enough time to plan something for you. He wasn’t sure if Calum would be coming to visit or if your friend from the store would be celebrating with you, so he decided to just go as big as he could without it feeling like too much – just to make sure you were getting the sort of fanfare you deserved without making you feel embarrassed or guilty for being prioritized.

Valentine’s Day was coming up, and he’d been panicking about whether or not he should do something for you. Of course he wanted to, but he wasn’t really sure what was fitting for whatever the two of you had. The last thing he wanted to do was make some big show of his feelings and send you running the opposite direction. Maybe one day you’d let him do that, though. He hoped, at least. He wanted nothing more than to learn every part of you so that he could praise it and show it the reverence he already felt.

He almost blows it a few days leading up to it when he asks if you have any plans for your big day. You skirt around the question, of course – something about not really being the “birthday type,” but he doesn’t believe that for a minute.

“Real believable comin’ from the girl who made me a lemonade cake for my birthday only a few months of knowing each other because she remembered that was the drink I got at her grocery store job every time,” he snorts.

You huff and hide a bittersweet smile. “It’s different when it’s somebody else.”

He nearly told you all the details of his surprise right then and there just so you could know that he saw you for you and wanted to celebrate ever being lucky enough to know you.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans, you care to indulge me with my little gift idea?”

Joel clocks the way you shoot him a dubious look, no doubt thinking back to the numerous Christmas presents he couldn’t help himself from giving you. It makes him feel a strange sense of pride knowing how much that had meant to you. Hopefully lightning could strike twice in the gifting department and this birthday could be as much of a success as Christmas had been.

“Yeah, because you famously do impersonal, thoughtless gifts,” you deadpan.

“Everybody has a different spectrum of gifting, okay?” he chortles. “So, you gonna be nice to me and let me take you somewhere?”

“I dunno. Depends on what you had in mind,” you tease.

He leaves out the finer details but tells you the date and the timeframe, and your face falls. “Oh. I can’t be out that late. My dad wouldn’t let me do that. Thanks for thinking about me, thou–”

“Just tell him you’re stayin’ at your friends like you were on New Year’s Eve. He doesn’t have to know you’re just around the corner.”

It’s a simple enough scheme, and your eyes light up. You know it makes sense, and, best of all, you know it could actually work. He’s relieved you didn’t take it as some loaded, suggestive offer because in all honesty he just wants this birthday idea to work out. If you get to stay in his house overnight again, that’s just the cherry on top. 

When he drops you off that evening, the kiss is long and tender. He's more determined than ever to make you see how much you deserve to be celebrated.

You’d been reserved to your loss of doing anything fun for your birthday with your and Kenzie’s falling out. Calum had sent a little text to say happy birthday earlier since he was going to be swamped with work on the actual day. But then Joel had stepped up – a tendency over the last several months that had now formed into a full blown habit of his – and informed you of some “simple, fun” idea he had to celebrate with you. It was a relief to know he hadn’t bought you a gift like he’d done at Christmas because you still hadn’t completely gotten over the weird feelings of guilt over it.

You had never been fond of surprises and had more than your fair share of bad ones in your lifetime to turn you off the concept entirely. But for Joel, you’d let him surprise you with something. He’d earned enough of your trust to have your blessing to do that. It sounded silly when put so simply – I trust you enough to let you spoil me – but it was genuinely how you felt. You knew there was nothing he expected in return, and you were going to try your best to accept the genuine gesture without any feelings of guilt or unease that you weren’t giving something back tenfold.

Accept the affection and attention from a person who solely wants to give them because they care about you. It was a difficult concept that didn't quite resonate in your mind yet, but you were trying.

Your dad had slowly given into the wedding planning with Denise. Her parents and sister had taken an interest in it as well as in him from what you could gather, and that meant it was time to pull out all the stops. Beguile and soft soap them all until they would never suspect the wolf in sheep’s clothing, would never think in a million years this was a man who would readily and without provocation put his hands on those weaker and smaller. Sometimes you felt sick to your stomach knowing what awaited Denise and her kids, but there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You know even if you tried to warn her, she wouldn’t believe you.

You weren’t going to dwell on any of that tonight, though. A gift of grace from the universe left you in your house alone to get ready and pack an overnight bag. It also left your thoughts in overdrive trying to figure out where and what this “simple, fun” gift was going to be. Joel had said to wear something comfortable “but not like pajamas or anything.” It was as helpful as it was vague, so you opted for a comfortable t-shirt and some wide legged lounge pants that were probably pajama bottoms but whatever. 

Kenzie still had all your best pair of jeans at her house since you’d never gone back to get your stuff left behind. Her dress and tights as well as your bra and panties from that night were still somewhere floating around Joel’s house. You’d have to grab them tonight. Maybe you could mail her things back to her, and she’d return the favor.

Joel’s truck barely shifts into park before you’re bounding down the front steps and wrapping yourself around him.

“Hi, birthday girl,” he greets with a warm, tight hug.

“It’s technically not until two days from now.”

“Okay, then it’s a three day affair. Party starts tonight and doesn’t stop ‘til 12:01 the day after your birthday.”

You grin and giggle, planting a soft kiss on his chin and jaw. “What happened to ‘simple’?”

“Gotta adapt to the times, Pluck. Things change, and now we’re turnin’ this into a full blown event.”

You groan and shuffle to the passenger’s side where Joel cuts you off and opens it for you. He takes your bag and loads it up and doesn’t let you get out of the car when he drops it off at his house before heading out to the mystery location. It’s about 10 minutes of driving before you realize his energy has shifted into something uncertain and nervous.

“So, listen,” he starts and clears his throat. “Your birthday bein’ all close to Valentine’s Day — well, it sorta – it’s kinda ended up a little romantic themed, but I don’t mean for – I don’t want you to feel like it’s a — I don’t want you to feel pressured like it’s a date or anything, okay?”

You force down the pitched cackle that’s threatening to burst from your chest. That is what he’s so worried about? That it might be too romantic? That it might be so thoughtful and tender-hearted that it was unmistakably intimate?

“Well what if I wanted it to be a date?  What then?”

His head practically turns off its axis with how fast it whips your direction. He’s never looked so excited and jubilant in all the time you’ve known him.

“Yeah?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “So, is it a date?”

“I guess it’s a date then, sweetheart.” His cheeks go round and flushed with delight as he beams.

You faintly recognize the shopping center that the truck just passed, but you can’t remember what all is out this way. You’re in the parking lot of the “fancy cinema” before you recognize where Joel is taking you.

“Alright, birthday girl. We’re gonna go inside and get some popcorn and whatever else, and then we’re gonna go grab our seats,” he informs you brightly.

“We’re gonna go see a movie? What are we gonna go see?” You’re excited to know what kind of movie Joel picked out for you.

“Well, not just one movie. It’s a special double feature with an intermission in between and everything. Figured we’d make a whole night of it since this is the Year of Movies for you.”

“Really?” you squeak.

“Yep. They’re a little older, but they’re good. I’ve seen both of them, but it’s been a long time. Pillow Talk is first and then it’s Some Like It Hot for the second one. I think it’s about an hour and a half for the first one and then a little break before the second one, which I think the site said is a little over two hours runtime.”

“This is amazing,” you gasp. “I didn’t even know we had something like this around here.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“You weren’t even joking when you said this was going to be a whole event. This is so… I can’t even believe— I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m so excited! Thank you, baby!” you gush.

You lean across the seat and draw him into a brisk, intense kiss. You pull away and plant several pointed pecks on his cheeks and jaw and chin for good measure.

“You called me baby,” he notes in a soft, low voice. “You’ve never called me anything but my name before.”

“Oh, is that okay? I didn’t even realize I said that.”

“I liked it,” he admits sheepishly.

“Well, baby, let’s get outta this car before we miss our double feature,” you croon.

He chuckles a little and kisses your cheek before hopping out of the truck and coming around to your side to open your door for you. It’s almost dizzying how floaty you feel walking next to him. There was something about just being out and about with him like this so publicly, how freely and easily he wrapped his arm around you, and you don’t even care if you run into somebody you know. A fellow Miller Construction employee, an old coworker from the grocery store, or even your dad. It felt like it didn’t matter if someone saw you. It didn’t matter whether their reaction would be friendly or hostile or favorable or neutral or dismissive. It didn’t matter because Joel was with you, and, even if you couldn’t exactly say how, you just know down to your bones that he would face it head on and handle it for you both, no questions asked.

There’s a sort of implied promise of safeguarding with Joel that makes your brain feel quiet and sharp, like it can fully receive information and expunge all the burdensome, defunct neural pathways that were forged in all the years of stress and loss and fear you experienced prior to knowing him. Mental faculties refreshed and favoring clean new circuitry that optimized your well-being and happiness.

You sip on the bubbly, bright Coke he got for you to share as he grips a comically large bucket of popcorn in one hand and various sweets in the other. This place is like no theater you’ve ever seen before, and you start to wonder if this actually was a super expensive gift after all. When you see the dual pod reclining seats and swiveling side tables, you know without a doubt this costs way more than your average movie date night.

There are a handful of middle aged couples dotted throughout the gorgeous theater space, but it’s mostly older couples filling the seats. You’re the youngest person in the room by a longshot. When you locate your seats, Joel pauses and looks over the middle armrest separating the seats. You wordlessly lean forward and push it back, making for one large space without any barriers.

You get situated in your seats and play with all the buttons to see what they do. Joel watches on, amused and smiley, and nibbles on popcorn. You finally settle on partially reclining for both of you so you can still snack. The lights flicker and dim, and the first film starts.

“Can we cuddle?” you whisper.

He grins ear to ear and answers by way of wrapping an arm around you and pulling you snug into his side, his other hand coming to rest on top of yours in your lap. He kisses your temple and takes the pieces of popcorn you feed to him.

The movie is funny and silly even if you don’t entirely understand all the references and older technology mentioned and used. By how mellow and cuddly you both are, you’d think that was your hundredth time having an evening out like this. There was something familiar and comforting about being with Joel, and the lack of pressure or nerves about it all the entire time had you thinking Pillow Talk might just end up being your favorite movie after this because how could you not be biased now that it was associated with something so lovely?

You both get up to stretch and use the bathroom during intermission. Joel finishes first because for some reason there’s never a line in the men’s room, but he’s waiting in the hallway for you when you get out. He wraps you into a tight hug and kisses on you before walking you back to the theater. This feels like the soft launch of your relationship, and it’s hard to not get ahead of yourself with what it meant and why and how it already felt so fucking good and right.

The second movie is another lighthearted feature with solid comedic elements. You burrow and snuggle into Joel’s side this time around, hand rubbing gently across the little pouch of his belly that’s overfilled with popcorn and soda and small chocolate candies. His thumb traces your arm in gentle lines, and you can feel his whole chest vibrate when he laughs. You can’t help but look up at him a few times with a mawkish grin, which he uses as an excuse to dip his head down to kiss you.

Despite the literal hours and hours of movies you’d just sat through, you don’t feel tired in the slightest. Raw energy emanates from you, and you know Joel must feel it, too. You spend the drive back to his house thanking him roughly a million times for such a wonderful birthday and perfect gift. He basks in the influx of positive feedback and appreciation, so you make sure to lay it on as thick as he’ll tolerate.

He’s got a bounce in his step as he walks around to get your door for you. You don’t make it all the way inside his house before you’re already asking if you can stay in his bed with him tonight instead of the guest bedroom like you’d planned.

“Of course,” he huffs in disbelief. “If I ever say no to somethin’ like that, haul my ass to the doctor because somethin’ would be seriously wrong with me.”

He carries your bag upstairs for you, and your chest pounds with errant heartbeats as you pass the guest room and head for his bedroom. You creep up behind him and run your hands over his hips and towards his groin.

“I’m not really tired,” you say soft and suggestively.

“No? You need somethin’ to help get you all relaxed so you sleep?” he returns, none too intent on hiding the darkened want dripping from his words now.

“Kinda wanted to see your dick again,” you hum. “Feel it in my hand again.”

“Oh?” He turns his head sideways to gauge your unexpected admission. 

You nod firmly and rub your palm over where his pants have tented and are now straining against his hardening bulge. “Can’t stop thinking about it.”

That much was true. Perhaps a burning curiosity now that you had a male partner, you’d begun imagining all the things you could learn to make him feel good, to touch him in just the right way that makes him cry out for you louder than any other partner he’s had in the past. You might’ve rubbed his name all over yourself at his instruction, but he wasn’t the only one with a possessive side.

“Maybe we could get undressed for bed, and…” you trail off and shrug.

He turns around completely to face you and crowds your body. “Just said you weren’t tired,” he points out cheekily.

“Beds aren’t just for sleeping.”

He concedes to that and runs his hands under the hem of your shirt, pausing for a moment for you to give him the go ahead, and gently pushes it up until it’s over your head and forgotten on the floor. He repeats the action on himself and focuses his attention to undoing your bralette.

“This okay?” he checks.

“Yes,” you say firmly so he knows you want it, no doubts and no hesitation.

He continues on like this - an item of clothing off you followed by the same item of clothing off him - until you’re both bare. You can’t decide what you want to touch first and more of, so your hands just end up traversing his body in frantic little passes. He’s much more methodical – and proficient – when it comes to you. Teasing his thumbs across your hardened nipples, cupping your ass in his warm palm and squeezing it, nosing at your temple, neck, and ears.

You settle onto the bed together, and his deliberate exploration of your body has your mind going blank. He pairs sensual caresses with attentive kneading, and the combination has your entire body feeling like a willow tree in the wind. Before you can’t think of anything other than what he’s doing to you, you prop yourself up and bid for his attention.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” you ask softly.

“Yeah? That what you want?” he groans. “ You wanna taste your first cock, sweetheart?”

“Mmmhhhhhmmmm, yes. Can I?”

“Okay, go ahead.” He lays back and cups your face, tenderly caressing it for a moment, and looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. “It’s all for you.”

The assertion that his patent arousal and carte blanche invitation was all yours sent an intoxicating, simmering thrill through you. It’s just the sort of endorsement you need to delve into this new sort of sexual experience and not be so in your head about it. You shimmy down, planting chaste little kisses along his chest as you work your way to his stiff length, and let yourself pause at the thicket of coarse hairs surrounding the base. You breathe in the scent of him – a concentrated, earthier smell of his usual aroma – and gently run your fingers from base to tip.

You look up at him and feel a rush of power when you see his face already warping into a pleasured frown and pinched brow. You hold his gaze and draw tiny kitten licks all the way up to his cockhead. His breath hitches when you lick at the topmost portion of the underside, so you do it again. He can’t look away as you round out your lips and slowly sink them over his tip before just as slowly drawing them back up with a little bit of suction. 

You can already tell you’re not going to be able to fit much of him into your mouth. Maybe with a little practice and just getting used to the sensation, but not a viable option today. You work the rest of what you can’t fit into your mouth with your hand and switch out suckling his tip with messily tonguing at it and the slit. You soak in the small sounds of surrender he’s making and try to just let your instinct guide you to make him feel good.

“Look so pretty,” he husks. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

You could try to save face and lie, but it didn’t feel right to do that. It was feeling less and less right to ever not be completely honest with Joel. “I know I’m supposed to inflate your ego by saying how big you are, but you’re actually — like, you really are big, Joel,” you point out a little bluntly. “How the hell do people do this and not have their jaw hurt the rest of the day?”

He laughs under his breath and brushes some stray hair away from your eyes. “S’okay, sweetheart. You just show me your best. Just wanna see those lips wrapped around it. Don’t gotta take all of it at once.” You nod, and he grins like an imp. “Not today, at least.”

He’s teasing, of course, but for some reason it makes you want to learn how to take him to the hilt. You flatten your tongue and take him down until your gag reflex threatens to go off. Your eyes are watering by the third time, but you don’t look away from Joel.

“Christ, you can’t look at me like that when I’m in your mouth,” he groans. “Gonna make me come way too fast lookin’ up at me like that.”

“Like what?” you breathe, a little teasing and a little turned on by his admission.

“Like you–christ– like you wanna tell me thank you just for lettin’ you suck it.”

“Like I really, really like it?” you tease. “Like it’s all I’ve been thinking about doing since I first saw how hard you get for me?”

His brow pulls in a pained sort of bliss, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. You take him in your hand slowly while you talk.

“Because I have. I’ve been thinking about touching it. And licking it.” You accentuate your words with a flit of your tongue around the slit. His eager responsiveness to your talking gives you the confidence to keep going. 

“Thought about how big it’s gonna feel inside me but I don’t even care. I just want you to fill me up with it and stretch me out on it. I know you’ll make it feel so good for me.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Ah, fuck, I would make that tight little pussy feel so good takin’ my cock, baby.”

You moan and mouth at the underside of his cockhead, letting the fat tip of him smear and bob across your lower face. You think he might just enjoy seeing how messy and uninhibited you get when you’re lost in the buzz of sucking him off.

“You’re so warm and hard. Feels so nice in my hand. I wanna know what it’s gonna feel like to have it inside me,” you say, sounding a little out of breath and needy. “I get wet sometimes just thinking about it, ever since I watched you on the couch that first time. I wanted to know what you tasted like after you were done and it got all over our hands.”

“Christ you gotta—” he grits. His hands are clenched into fists on either side of him, bunched up fabric caught up in his grasp. “Since when have you had a mouth like this on you? Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

“I like you watching me. I like you seeing how much I want this. You taste so good.” You spit loudly onto his cock and mouth at his balls for good measure but decide to pull away from them when the sensitivity and movement of them are a little too foreign for you to feel confident focusing on when he’s this close to climaxing. You flatten out your tongue and run it up and down his length while you work his tip in wet circles with a strong turn of your wrist.

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Joel,” you murmur in a syrupy, coy tone. You bat your eyes for good measure and continue getting as much slobber as you can onto him so the noises are louder and louder with each suck or tug.

“Ohhh ffucckkkkkk.” He’s writhing and panting, and you want to give him that final push to where he can’t hold back any longer.

“I want you to fuck me raw so I can feel you come inside me,” you moan. “I wanna feel your cum drip out of me, baby.”

 His eyes snap to yours, and then his whole face is pulling and contorting as you lick and suckle along the underside of his cock. Hot ropes of his seed splash onto your face, but you keep your mouth open as wide as it will go so you can wiggle your tongue side to side on him. He’s making the most incredible sounds you’ve ever heard, and it resets something in your brain. You know you want to hear those same exact sounds as many times as humanly possible. 

“Wow,” you breathe when he finally starts to come down. “That was incredible.”

“God dammit I didn’t mean to come that quick,” he hisses. “Snuck up on me. You’re a damn devil in angel’s clothing, holy shit. Talkin’ like that and lookin’ at me like that.”

His flushing is attributable to his release, but you also recognize a delightful little nugget: he’s slightly abashed at orgasming so quickly.  When he’s walking back from the bathroom with some hand towels to clean you up, you catch him muttering to himself about get a fuckin’ grip, Joel. Considering this was your first attempt at a blowjob, you are admittedly proud of how fast he unraveled.

“Well look who’s pleased as punch,” he snorts. “Over there with that shit eating grin.”

You giggle and cover your face but don’t deny you’ve got a sense of pride at making him come so easily. He playfully pulls you to the end of the bed, and you squeal in surprise and delight. “Yeah, real proud of yourself now, but we’ll see who’s laughin’ when I get back to business down there,” he laughs.

He gently wipes your face clean of his spend and huffs a laugh when you’re lying there beaming up at him.

“You sure you never done that before?”

“Positive,” you chirp. “But I’m glad that out of anybody it was you.”

“Now you’re just tryna soothe my bruised ego,” he chuckles.

“No, I mean it. And… I mean, if there was other stuff we could do that was new for me… I wouldn’t say no to that,” you extend. You roll your hips against him and relish the stifled groan that vibrates through his chest.

“Well, coupla things gettin’ in the way of takin’ it there,” he says after a beat, like he’s trying to let you down gently.

You deflate a little at the rejection, now feeling a tinge of embarrassment yourself, until he clarifies that it’s nothing to do with not wanting it.

“First off, I just came. A lot. So, with guys it’s different. It takes a while to, uh, ‘get operable again’, if you know what I mean,” he explains.

“Oh, I– Sorry, I didn’t realize—”

He’s waving your apology off and continuing on before you can expose just how inexperienced you are with men. The last thing you want to do is come across as naive and incompatible with him. “Trust me, if it was up to me, I’d already have your legs thrown over my shoulder and be drilling down into you, sweetheart.”

Your lips part slightly at the mental image, and he grins knowingly.

“And then there’s also the fact that I don’t have any protection, but I can, you know, I can pick some up soon if you’re feeling like — if you’re sure you’re ready for that. No rush at all, though. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I want to,” you insist.

His expression is tender and amused with an edge of sleepiness. “Okay, sweetheart. Then we will,” he promises. “I’ll pick some up soon, and we’ll take that step.”

“Okay,” you pout. 

“Lemme make it up to you in the meantime,” he suggests, crawling into bed with you and running a hang up your inner thigh and making you gasp.

He takes you apart in his mouth, spelling out his name just like he promised, and it’s him you dream about that night when you’re curled up into the swell of his broad chest.

Something hard and insistent prods at your thighs and finally stirs you awake. The sun hasn’t come up all the way yet. The heavy scent of Joel fills your nostrils when you take a deep breath. Sleeping next to him in his room was ecstasy on an entirely different level, a rehabilitation for your nervous system if there ever was one. You’re very much awake now when you realize just what it is that you’re feeling pressed against you.

You stay on your side as you were when you woke, but you turn your head enough to see the gentle rise and fall of Joel’s chest. He was still knocked out with no indication that he’d be conscious any time soon. He’s not on his side, but he is angled towards you enough that his hardon continues to make direct contact. You turn in nimble, measured movements so as to not disturb him until you’re facing him completely. Your eyes are drawn to the hefty length of him, thick and resting on his thigh.

You reach a hand down and curl around it with featherlight touch. He shifts slightly but doesn’t wake. You get a firm hold and give an experimental stroke. This garners a stronger, definitive response. His forehead and eyebrows twitch and wiggle, mouth drifting open a little and making small, silent shapes. Heartened by the effect you have over him, you stroke a little faster and study his face for any changes. 

He lets out a soft grunt and subconsciously ruts towards the friction. He’s got a sour little shape to his mouth now as he becomes half-conscious of his surroundings and fully hard.

“Mmmmmm, what’reyoudoin’?” He sounds groggy, voice thick with sleep and dazed arousal.

“Woke up to it,” you whisper throatily. “Looked like it needed a little attention.”

He sighs and opens his eyes, and they twinkle back at you with something challenging and playful. “You decided to give a helpin’ hand, huh?”

“Hand. Mouth. I’ll give you whatever you want,” you murmur.

“Missin’ a couple orifices for that list to be complete,” he chuckles. His eyes are resting shut, still not entirely awake for the day, but a big grin spreads on his mouth. That is, until you say to hell with it and resort to begging.

“Can you fuck me without a condom? Just once? Please? I wanna feel you so bad. Please, Joel. Please.”

His eyes are wide open now and darkened by your shameless appeal. “We really shouldn’t…..” Even he doesn’t sound convinced. 

“I won’t ask again,” you promise, doing your best to not sound too let down. “Sorry. I just keep thinking about it.”

He studies your face for a moment, and the flicker of a decision dances on his own. “Maybe just once. Right? Just for your birthday. Just a little gift for your birthday, just this once, okay?” he rambles, sounding eager in the way his voice pitches up the longer he speaks. You nod, a yes yes yes whispered, and resume stroking his now leaky cock.

He’s quickly between your legs and making out with your pussy. It’s only been a handful of times, but he works you like he already knows every little spot you like and every little tell you have. You come when he adds a second finger. He wipes his glistening mouth and chin on the sheets and crawls back up your body like a cat on the prowl.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Yes, please. I can’t wait any more. Please.”

He notches himself at your entrance and holds your eye as he begins pushing inside. You’d expected more of a painful sensation, but it doesn’t go past slight discomfort and stinging as you adjust. Joel looks worse for wear as he tries to keep a level head and not go too fast.

God you feel so good and so warm and fuckin’ soft and fuckin’ chokin’ me spill from his lips as he feeds you his cock inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. You whimper at the stretch and fullness, clawing at him to hold you closer while your body accommodates him. He obliges and cradles you against him. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways feeling him above you, inside you, all around you.

He slips a finger between your legs to work your clit and help you fully relax around him, and you’re both caught off guard when the simple motion elicits an orgasm. You’re making insane noises, you’re sure of it, but you don’t care. The sensation of clamping down onto him is otherworldly. He himself is making little grunting noises of effort – to not move or to not come, you’re not sure.

The spasming begins to subside, but you can’t stop whimpering. It only worsens when Joel starts to shift his hips and gently fuck into you. Your head snaps back the first time the drag of his cock gets plunged all the way back inside you.

“Feels good, huh? Comin’ all over me just from a little touch. Coming just because you’ve got this fat cock in you, huh?” he goads. “You gonna choke my cock again, sweetheart? Gonna come all over this cock again once I start fucking you just how you wanted?”

You speak, but it’s mostly just babbled whines. You tilt your hips slightly and cry out when the change of position gives him an open range of motion.

“There you go, there you go,” he rambles. “Takin’ it raw, aren’t you? Didn’t want anything else for your birthday, did you? Just wanted to open up this cock and have me shove it into this tight fuckin’ pussy. Never had a cock before and now she can’t get enough.”

He bends his head and latches onto a peaked nipple, and you’re gone. Your entire body seizes up with the force of your climax, and you swear your vision goes flat for half a second. Joel fights against the drowning clutch and pull of your cunt as he hastily pulls out and finishes on your mound with a gravelly moan.

By the time you both regain enough energy to speak, the sun is fully in the morning sky. Joel convinces you to get up so you can shower together and eat breakfast. He tends to you every step of the way of your blissful morning together.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

tagging:

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@bizarrelove-triangle @doblasftcisco @canteenee4 @koshkaj-blog @sunandmuun

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@pastelnap @ellenmunn @sherrycherry03-blog @confusedpuffin @reneerocks3617

@r3dheadedwitch @fishingforpike @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @umnitsa

@jupiter-soups @heartstoptrying @beelzebeth87 @copperhalfcent @gay4magnetobutfanfiction

@ficrecreblo @witchy-and-persnickity @lyuir @indiegirlunited

[lunar-years]

roy wasn't that angry at jamie bc roy knew his relationship was ending with or without jamie. :(

i think roy was angry with Jamie and he was angry at Vanity Fair and he was definitely angry at the world and he was probably even angry at Keeley, a little bit (in a misplaced sort of way)...but most critically he was less angry at all of them combined than he was angry at himself. Because that's Roy Kent for you.

[hannieehaee]

18 + / mdi

content: boyfriend!mingyu & bf'sbestfriend!wonwoo, smut, afab reader, cucking (idk if this is the right term honestly), penetrative sex, mentions of oral, pov switches to wonwoo's pov like three paragraphs in, this is mostly wonwoo x reader ngl, etc.

part 2

wc: 3343

a/n: this is a continuation to mingyu's part of this reaction !!

masterlist

you'd known wonwoo for a good while now. being mingyu's girlfriend for over a year, you'd grown used to the company of his roommate, who was usually around whenever you'd go visit mingyu at their shared apartment.

it was easy to get along with wonwoo. he was an easy-going guy and also easy on the eyes, and just overall likable. you liked to think that the feeling was mutual, wanting to get along well with mingyu's best friend. you'd occasionally hang out one on one whenever you'd incidentally arrive to mingyu's apartment early, only to be let in by wonwoo. he was a gentleman, so he'd entertain you during mingyu's absence, telling you stories about the boy and at some points discussing shared interests with you.

what you didnt know was that wonwoo did like you. more than you wouldve hoped, actually.

wonwoo had known you for as long as mingyu, having been there when the two of you first met. the three of you had started off as simple acquaintances, up until mingyu decided he just had to have you, thus making you his. wonwoo had been happy for his friend, knowing mingyu to be a hopeless romantic at heart. yes, he admits, he mightve been attracted to you when you first met, but he quickly got over it upon finding out his best friend had a crush on you, even encouraging him to ask you out. having you in his immediate life proved to be interesting. it turned out that you two had a lot in common, with your personalities even aligning perfectly. that mightve explained why he was mingyu's best friend and you his best friend's girlfriend. mingyu clearly had a type.

over time, as wonwoo got to know you better, his long-gone crush seemed to want to make a comeback. what had previously been just physical attraction had turned into something more upon getting to know you. nothing ever happened to trigger his feelings, but there was only so much of your constant proximity that he could handle before his feelings resurfaced. which is where he now found himself. crushing on his best friend's pretty girlfriend, forced to occasionally join in on your dates as the perpetual third wheel.

despite any of his unreasonable emotions, he knew the feeling was not mutual, and more than that, he would never do that to his best friend. so, he did what any reasonable person would do and shoved his feelings deep within him, internally slapping himself any time his head went places it shouldn't. but that could only last so long.

it was a regular day. wonwoo had gone to the company, done his usual idol business and come back, now awaiting mingyu's arrival. except wonwoo was met with your presence instead. wonwoo had been expecting mingyu, remembering that he had told the boy about a movie they should watch together as soon as they had some extra down time. that day being today, now that they were finally back from promotions in japan and could go back to their regular schedules. he opened the door after hearing a few knocks, assuming mingyu mightve misplaced his keys again. except he was not met with his six foot tall friend upon opening the door, but instead you. it had been a while since he'd seen you. hell, it had probably been a while since mingyu had seen you. theyd just been so busy lately. he let you in, muttering a quick 'hello', avoiding eye contact a bit and stepping aside to allow you in. before he could close the door back up, you stopped him.

"oh, wait. gyu's coming up. he got us food for the movie!"

oh. had mingyu asked you to join?

his face mustve told on him, since you spoke up again almost immediately.

"is it okay im here? i can go, i know you guys are tired, i-"

the last thing he wanted you to feel was unwelcome. his stupid crush shouldnt get in the way of what was now a friendship between the two of you.

"no! stay, please. do you guys want privacy? we just came back, you must wa-"

this time you interrupted him. "no, not at all! stay, please. i love hanging out with you, nonu, you know that."

calling him by a cute nickname was not helping this for wonwoo, nor was the pretty smile you were throwing him. but he'd have to sit through an entire movie night like this, he realized.

the following thirty or so minutes went the way you'd imagine. mingyu had arrived soon after, with way too much food for three people and prepared the perfect setting for an enjoyable night between the three. wonwoo could tell his friend was beaming at the thought of finally spending a relaxing night with his two favorite people. this made him feel guilty, but he had to admit, he felt the same giddyness at the concept. in logical fashion, you and mingyu sat next to each other, slightly cuddled up while wonwoo sat on the smaller couch right next to the two of you. the three of you watched the movie for a little while, only ever speaking up every once in a while to comment on the movie. things went like this until mingyu suddenly spoke up, clapping his hands as if he suddenly remembered something.

"won! i almost forgot!", he paused the movie, sitting up from leaning against you, "i told y/n id show her the pictures we took in japan, come here!", his friend seemed so overly excited at the idea, almost vibrating as be waited for wonwoo to come sit next to him.

wonwoo made the mistake of moving his eyes a little to the left while looking at his friend, only to catch your expectant gaze as you also waited for him to close the distance. but it was enough to get him to get up and take a close seat next to mingyu, making the tall man the only separation between you and him.

mingyu had already pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery and stopping every few seconds to explain where the picture was, who took it and why they had edited it the way they did. he explained every minor detail while you looked at him, full attention on him. wonwoo liked that about you. it was something you did when speaking to him too. you'd always show full interest, even sharing a passion for photography and editing as he did. there had been occasions in which wonwoo himself had shown you his photography, only to be always met with praise and genuine curiosity at his skill.

they both explained the pictures, with mingyu holding the phone at an angle where both you and wonwoo could see the screen perfectly. mingyu had full control of the phone, not thinking much as he stopped by every single picture and made a few comments, allowing space each time for wonwoo's own commentary and your praise of their skills. it was a heartwarming moment for wonwoo, really. until it turned into a moment that warmed something else in him.

mingyu, in his overexcited state, was clearly not thinking much of it as he swiped picture after picture, not realizing that if he scrolled too far, he'd end up where he was now.

it was a picture of you. a very pretty picture, if wonwoo had anything to say about it. you were laying in what he could only assume to be mingyu's bed, shirt off and very very cute sheer panties covering your lower half. your face wasnt in it, only your lips. but your body was practically on full display. wonwoo had to commend you for your artistic eye. that picture could cause any man to swim across the pacific ocean just to see the contents of it in the flesh. or at least thats how wonwoo felt in that moment. time felt frozen as he stared at the image. silence had filled the room as none of you reacted. until mingyu finally unfroze, locking his phone and throwing it on the table, cursing loudly at his mistake. but the damage had been done.

wonwoo felt ashamed at his current state. he couldnt look up, only staring down at his lap as he thought of the image that was now imprinted in mind. why did he have to see that? his crush on you was already getting out of hand. there was no way be could ever look you in the eye again. but his brain, once more, betrayed him. he looked up slowly, instantly meeting your gaze. you looked as flustered as he felt, eyes widened and cheeks flushed. fuck. your face reminded him of one he had seem before. a few months back when he'd accidentally bumped into you after what he couldve only assumed to be a night well-spent with his best friend, same flushed cheeks and widened eyes, except this time you were missing the disheveled look you had carried that time.

you and wonwoo seemed unable to break eye contact, with both your gazes becoming heavier by the second. what had felt to wonwoo like minutes of agony staring into your eyes were only a few seconds to mingyu, who immediately spoke up after having thrown his phone on the table.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry, i-" he had turned his body towards you, emphasizing how badly he felt at the position he put you under, but your eyes hadnt left wonwoo's, nor had his left yours.

you interrupted him, only breaking eye contact with wonwoo for a few seconds. "it's okay, gyu," your eyes now facing wonwoo again, "right, nonu?", your voice was sultry, only tightening up his pants even more than the initial shock of the image had.

"y-yeah."

mingyu seemed to catch on quickly after that, almost as if he'd been expecting this. he turned to his friend, still not 100% certain, "wonwoo. are you sure?"

there had been nothing wonwoo had ever been more sure about it. he broke eye contact with you for the first time in the past minute and responded, "yes."

~

"there's gonna be rules, okay?"

the three of you were now in mingyu's (and practically your) room, still fully clothed but all on the bed, already completely out of breath from the mere thought of what was about to happen. wonwoo felt like an animal. he felt himself have to put physical effort into holding back from jumping you. the way you'd been looking at him for the past while had him going insane, knowing now that the feeling was mutual.

"what are the rules?", wonwoo's eyes were still on you.

"any-" mingyu was about to speak when you interrupted him, still holding onto wonwoo's full attention.

"anything goes, except no marks and you have to be willing to share me. gyu's a bit possessive, right baby?", you stated matter-of-factly, almost in a rehearsed manner.

"wait. you've discussed this before?"

mingyu neared you, beginning to undress you from behind, giving wonwoo the perfect view of your clothing disappearing. 'we have. you're not exactly subtle, hyung.'

what? had you two known about his crush on you this whole time? he was so sure he'd kept it at bay almost expertly. had he just been embarrassing himself this whole time?

"its okay, nonu. we've discussed this. we're okay with it if you are. right, gyu?", you looked over your shoulder at the man who had now removed your shirt and shorts, leaving you in panties and a bra, much to wonwoo's dismay.

"i- are you sure? what does this mean? you-"

"hyung, dont over think it. you want her, dont you? you're my best friend, im willing to share."

well, what kind of fool would argue with that logic?

wonwoo decided to take advantage of the opportunity while it was there, approaching you as mingyu stepped aside, undressing his own self as he watched you and wonwoo.

wonwoo was entirely unsure of himself, not knowing how or where to begin. luckily for him, you seemed to take pity on him, grabbing his arms and placing them on your waist, pulling him closer to you.

"you dont have to be nervous. i want you too," you smiled sweetly at him, lifting his chin so he would look at you.

the proximity made him heat up, almost forgetting his friend, who had now sat down on the bed, perfect angle to watch him and you.

you leaned up slowly, lightly placing your lips on wonwoo's in a sweet peck. wonwoo sighed against your lips at this, letting his shoulders fall from their rigid posture and leaning against you, opening his lips a bit. you took advantage of this, meekly slipping your tongue inside his mouth as he tightened his hands around your waist, allowing his own tongue to play with yours.

kissing you was something he had imagined before; never too vividly out of respect for his best friend, but it was something he had wanted to do, never thinking he'd actually get to.

you and him kissed softly for a while, until you seemed to grow frustrated at the light kisses and began to incite him for more. your kissing became rougher, nibbling at his lower lip and sucking at his tongue, rendering him lightheaded. he moaned against your mouth, beginning to match your pase. he moaned even louder the moment he felt your hands guide his own to your breasts, which were now bare. when had you taken your bra off ..? it didn't matter, really. now he could feel the pebbles on your chest against his palms, pinching at them as you mewled softly into bis mouth. all that could be heard was the smacking of your mouths, along with the soft breaths you kept taking against each other, utterly pleased at the feeling of the softness of the other's lips.

until mingyu interrupted.

suddenly soft moaning could be heard from beside them. wonwoo reluctantly pulled away from you, looking to the side, only to find his best friend with his eyes closed, head thrown back as he had his hand under his boxers, clearly getting off at the sounds of the two of you. you didnt stop kissing wonwoo in the meantime, insistent on licking and biting softly against his neck. the softness of your touches was making wonwoo go insane. he was no longer himself, but more of a shell of what used to be, wanting to give you all control of his pleasure. which he did.

he allowed you to undress him slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his chest, kissing at him every time you uncovered a new bit of skin. you bit and licked at his nipples, making wonwoo discover a sensitive spot he didnt even know about.

he enjoyed your attentiveness, but felt a small tug in the back of his mind at the thought of your boyfriend sitting nearby, simply watching.

"gyu, baby," you finally said after having laid wonwoo down on the bed, sitting on top of him while looking to the side at your boyfriend, "how do you wanna do this?"

wonwoo simply sat there, afraid that if he said anything he'd break the spell. he was willing to take whatever you gave him. he was already addicted to the sight of your bare body on top of him, somehow beating the picture he had seen just twenty minutes ago.

"do whatever you want, baby. have your fun n then ill eat his cum out of you n fill you with mine, sound good?", he slurred, seemingly rubbing at himself at a snail pace in order to savor the sight in front of him.

in any other instance, wonwoo wouldnt have understood why mingyu was getting off at the sight of his best friend and his girlfriend fucking, but it was you. wonwoo would also give anything to see you in the throes of passion from a third person perspective, so he felt no judgement for his friend as he practically tuned him out.

"you heard him, nonu. how do you want me?", you asked sweetly, caressing his skin softly while stopping to rub at his nipples every once in a while.

wonwoo was fucked. he felt the ability to speak leave him completely. he was rendered completely useless, a doll for you to play with however you wanted. but his sight right now was one he wanted to commit to memory, so mustering all his willpower, he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, pressing you closer against him.

"like this, baby. please," that earned a whine from gyu, who was still self-inflicting the most painful pleasure imaginable by edging himself at the sight of you.

he humphed at wonwoo, "no! get a different pet name. shes my baby."

wonwoo chuckled at this, but nodded over at his friend. "fine. like this, princess. yeah?"

you nodded at wonwoo, quickly adjusting yourself so you could easily slip him inside you, but only after being interrupted by mingyu again, reminding you to slip on a condom, "because you were only his to fuck raw."

"gyu, baby. like this? have a good angle? need me to move?"

"no, baby. you're perfect. now bounce on him for me, yeah? wanna see my pretty girl feel good," all his words were slurred, going on almost ten minutes of watching yours and wonwoo's foreplay.

"'kay baby. are you ready, nonu? wanna feel me?", you leaned down to kiss at him again, seemingly loving the feeling of your lips connecting as much as wonwoo did.

he nodded, felling you up as be awaited the upcoming feeling of your warmth wrapping around him.

your descent drove wonwoo insane. he doesnt think he's ever moaned that loudly before, nor does he think he's ever seen a prettier sight than your blissed out face as you felt him fill you up. the contrast of your movements right now compared to your soft touches earlier was laughable. it seemed like something had possessed you, making you bounce and grind on wonwoo at an animalistic pace, moaning incessantly at the feeling of his cock filling you up.

wonwoo was different from you, as his reaction was just pure bliss from the feeling of you, humping upwards with a lack of rhythm; just animalistic instinct to get himself as deep inside you as possible.

mingyu could be heard moaning from the background. you'd occasionally disconnect your eyes from wonwoo's form to make eyes at your boyfriend, giving him even more material for jacking off.

it went on like this until you began to near your end, which is when wonwoo believes he went truly insane. you began to grind at an angle that would bring gratification to your clit, practically crying on his cock. your hands went up to play with your nipples, stimulating yourself as much as possible. wonwoo wanted nothing more than to make you meet your end, grabbing harsher onto your hips and guiding your movements. he leaned up to kiss and suck at your tits, making you throw your head back and quicken your movements even more. you were in heaven and so was he. mingyu seemed to be too, as when wonwoo peeked a look at him he was practically crosseyed at the sight of you, arched back whining on his friend's cock.

your ends found you almost simultaneously. mingyu had been first, finally allowing himself to reach his high after edging himself for so long. soon followed wonwoo, spilling into the condom, causing you to cum at the sight of his pleasure. it took a bit for all of you to catch your breaths, staying silent for a bit until wonwoo broke the silence.

"shit. please tell me this isnt a one time thing."

you and gyu giggled at each other. wonwoo hoped that was a good sign.

a/n: lol lmk if u want a cont. with gyu's part

[your-nanas-house]

The Beginning

◇ Pairing: Tom Riddle X professor!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, manipulation, forbidden relationship, Tom Riddle, bath, nudity, dub-con, short age gap

◇ Summary: Tom notices that his favourite professor is a bit stressed.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Both character are aged up. Part 2 Part 3

The room was filled with the chit chat of students who were taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, a subject often called simply DADA by everyone.

In the background of the big lesson room, there was soft music that created an almost pleasant atmosphere in contrast to the type of class that was taking place which had quite heavy topics that frightened many and intrigued others.

One of those people who were fascinated by the subject was Tom Riddle himself, clever boy, Slytherin and much more, especially the darling of professors, of every professor, except Albus Dumbledore, so the young professor Y/l/n was no exception.

There was a special bond between the wunderkind student and the professor, almost intimate if someone misinterpreted it but it was nothing like that or at least that was how it was for Y/n, the young witch had only managed to get her job a few years earlier and right from the start, thanks to the passion for her subject shared with Tom, they began to bond.

The Slytherin student who had now come of age and managed to become the head boy as well as a prefect, had approached the teacher to find out more secrets about magic and because he surprisingly found their conversations interesting as well as entertaining.

This was the real reason why he had started a few months after he met her to pretend to meet her by chance while walking around the castle, thus starting a routine between the two of them that happened almost every day if Y/n wasn't busy with her duties as a Hogwarts professor, which happened sometimes and which annoyed Tom for some strange reason.

Y/n was convinced that Tom saw her as a mother figure, someone to follow and learn from, and so did the young adult, but everything changed one evening.

After a busy astronomy lesson Tom wanted to visit his favorite teacher before heading back to his dormitory but when he reached the door of her classroom, hoping to find her still there, voices made him stop in his tracks.

The door was slightly open and he could easily see what was going on inside Miss Y/l/n's classroom.

She was inside, leaned against a table as she listened attentively to what someone was saying to her, Tom couldn't recognise the man so close to the woman with that look that the student had learned was lustful from the experience of his peers.

The whole situation awakened something all too well known inside the Slytherin heir, envy, pure green envy and resentment turned against them, something animalistic flared up inside him, a need to prove himself just as he had done at the orphanage when he was still a child.

Perhaps that was the reason that started the break of the platonic feelings the student had for his teacher.

New thoughts ran through his head as he decided how to move the pawns of his game in such a way as to receive what he wanted and thought he deserved, waiting patiently for the most suitable moment which came one summer night.

It had been a few months since the beginning of her senior year but they were almost at the end, his attitude had not changed in the slightest towards Miss Y/n and so the young woman did not suspect anything when she received a letter from Tom asking her for urgent help and giving her the coordinates of where to meet.

Worried, the young woman rushed to what she discovered was the prefects' bathroom, she was breathing heavily and was ready to solve whatever the problem was.

The young woman however had expected everything but her favorite student to wander calmly around the bathroom as he arranged the water and suds, meeting her eyes with his cold black ones, a faint smile forming on his face when he spoke "professor".

The atmosphere was suspicious in a way, suspicious but relaxing, since the aroma of soap filled the room as Tom tended to his clothes leaving them propped elegantly on a chair so they couldn't get wet "what's going on, Tom? I got your owl and I came as soon as I could" Y/n declared while she looked around, studying the bathroom in order to understand the riddle and discover why Tom Riddle had made her run all the way there.

She didn't even realize what the boy was doing before he was surrounded by the water and the foam caught her attention again.

Tom was standing in the tub, his clothes forgotten on the chair as the water made his pale skin and nearly Greek god muscles stand out; Y/n couldn't help but notice how his student had grown over the summer, making space for a decidedly attractive young man who reminded her very much of a Greek statue while her y/e/c moved around studying the parts of his skin on view, reaching his neck and finally his face.

She only realised she was holding her breath when their eyes met again, the situation they were in became much clearer to her and a blush appeared on her face making her turn quickly to give privacy to the young man who was staring at her amused with an unfamiliar twinkle behind his pitch black eyes.

She could hear him moving in the water, probably moving closer to where she was before speaking again "I've noticed that you are under a lot of stress lately....I thought a bath might help you, professor" the Slytherin revealed with a mischievous smile that relented slightly when she politely declined several times before attempting to leave the room, soon ending up in the water though, Tom's arms wrapped around her as if they were two snakes, his breath was warm against her neck and she could feel him take in her scent before letting his lips graze the delicate skin of that area "I know you want it too" whispered the young man almost in an attempt to seduce her as he sensed the shiver that ran through her body.

"No one will have to know, my mouth will remain closed" he whispered again, licking this time behind her ear before starting to play with her lobe using his teeth "come on...professor".

Miss Y/l/n's eyes flattered closed despite the fact that she tried to fight her lust, but it was immensely difficult with Tom's large, long hands, which traveled slowly all over her body exploring and almost expertly touching the areas that would make her give in.

It was as if there was a study behind it, his hands traveled with the wisdom of someone who had studied but not yet experimented with practice, this however did not silence the voices telling her not to do it.

The struggle in her head continued and the more time passed the harder it was to resist, especially now that the young adult's body was right against her back and she could feel everything from his muscular chest to his abs to his hard cock against her lower back.

His warm breath was against her now cold neck, making her

shiver and sigh deeply memorising how Tom was touching her because it had been quite some time since she had fucked anyone.

Despite the urge boiling inside her, Y/n shifted, slipping from the wizard's strong grip, stopping his next movements by placing her hand on his smooth chest.

Tom's black eyes met her y/e/c's, his large hand with long, skinny fingers wrapped around her wrist, slowly moving it to his lips, his tongue tracing its way to the inside of her hand before stopping to allow their lips to meet in a strangely soft kiss.

Miss Y/n's tits were against Tom's muscular, pale chest, her hands buried in his black hair as the boy's arms were around her waist bringing her even closer to him.

Their lips moved slowly, both of them lost in the shared sensation, exploring one of the tastes after another. It all ended, however, when Y/n regained control, noticing the head of his cock brushing against her entrance almost as if teasing her.

Reason because she forced herself to pull Tom away from her before licking her lips, weighing up her various options, she wasn't going to go all through with one of her students, it wasn't even supposed to end up like this and yet there she was in a bath with the most talented student at Hogwarts trying to seduce her.

Tom moved closer just as her internal debate ended, it only took her hand to stop him and her gaze followed by a teacher's tone to make him obey "get out of the water, sit on the edge of the pool...this is to stay between us, it won't happen again and I don't want to talk about it ever again, do you understand?" she asked after a few seconds the last question before admiring how Tom's body, shifted and emerged from the water to position itself like she had asked.

And there he was, Tom Marvolo Riddle, in all his glory and nakedness, his legs spread for her and an intense gaze focused solely on her. The young professor had listened to several conversations of the horny schoolgirls going after Tom but had not at all expected what she had in front of her now.

That didn't frighten her though, they had already reached a moment of no return and her hands instinctively moved to the young man's muscular, hairy thighs; they traveled a slow, teasing pace that made all the remaining blood go right down into his now rock hard cock.

The wizard admired closely as Y/n's hands moved over his length, pumping him a couple of times using the water as lubricant before she moved her face closer and left little licks on the tip.

Their eyes met and her mouth continued to work on him, exactly as her hands did, causing small moans followed by hisses that came out of Tom's perfect lips.

His dark eyes had not yet moved away from her just as Y/e/c's were still focused on him, it was intense.

Her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the entire length a couple of times and then take him completely in her mouth, deep throating him without him expecting it.

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, Tom's thighs shaked slightly under her hands as sinful grunts escaped his lips; his hips began to move without even meaning to, his tingling hand lusting for dominance gripped her wet hair in a tight grip so that he could choose his movements.

His hips moved swiftly as he fucked her mouth mercilessly focused on achieving his first peak of pleasure, it was a almost suffocation feeling, Tom needed more, much more, but he had almost reached his peak.

The wizard only released his hold when he came, now leaving Y/n free to move as she wanted, despite this the young witch focused her attention till the end on his tip, sucking gently as her hands massaged his balls almost as if she was milking him.

As soon as she realized she had taken every last drop, Y/n slowly pulled away, swallowing it all while looking into Tom's eyes.

The young professor had to avoid him in order to reach the entrance to the prefects' door without falling for another attempt at seduction by the student.

The two looked at each other in silence, Tom wanted to say something but Y/n silenced him with one last kiss, followed by an elegant movement of her wand and three words "this stays here".

As soon as she finished speaking she walked out of the bathroom leaving Tom standing there all alone, looking at the door, his body now dry and his uniform back, it was as if nothing had happened, as if everything had only been in his head but the lipstick marks proved something else.

In fact they only confirmed the wonderful and unexpected sensations he had felt in those few minutes he had been with her, he knew that she had sensed that it was the first time he had done this kind of activity but he also knew that she wanted more, he wanted more, there was something more and Tom was going to take it at all costs.

Things had not begun and ended that night in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, the wizard would make sure of that and he would not put an end to what he had managed to get…what he had been craving for some time and now knew he could have.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @lostmyremembrall, @pastelpiisces

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Hannibal obsessed with his patient

Hannibal never liked to look at patients as anything more than that. But Y/N was a different story. She, unlike a lot of his patients, wasn't a psycho. Sure she had her issues, as did all but she was just looking for someone to talk to. 

He noticed the way she kept eye contact with him as they talked. She wasn’t shaky or nervous. She seemed confident 

Her problems were normal problems for people, nothing too crazy. She admitted to him that she just liked having someone to talk to. 

Though her overthinking was bad. She hated that fact about herself but he assured her that it was normal. She wanted to believe him but in her mind it was too repetitive.

He kept a file on her, as he did every patient. He would constantly look over this file and study her. He even found out where she lived and worked, thus began the stalking and obsessing. 

He would watch her from afar at work as she did her job. Her beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen and all he wanted to do was hold her and keep her from the fucked up world. 

He would stare at her house for hours as she was inside doing whatever she was doing. It wasn’t until weeks later that he would sneak up to a window and look inside.

Her house was well organized and looked very artsy. He knew that she loved art. They had talked about it multiple times. It was one of the reasons he was so obsessed with her. 

He saw her in the kitchen baking in her underwear and a large shirt. The shirt barely covered her ass but he wasn’t complaining 

He stared at her for a good few minutes as she baked a cake. He wondered if she was making a cake for someone or for herself. 

He found out the next day that it was for him. She wanted to thank him for everything that he’s done for her and that she was going to stop seeing him. 

This saddened him and he wasn’t going to let her leave him. So he decided to make a move. “Since you will no longer be my patient, would it be inappropriate to ask you on a date?” She smiled at him. “Even if it is, I would love to.” She said, 

He decided to make dinner for them and invite her over. Though it had crossed his mind to ask about having dinner at her house, he thought it was too early for that. 

Y/N looked stunning. Hannibal had told her to dress fancy and she did just that. He was taken away by her beauty and even stuttered a few times and Hannibal doesn’t usually do that. 

“You look amazing, my dear.” The name made her blush and stutter as well. “As do you, Hannibal.” She finally got to call him by his first name and he liked the way it sounded. 

Dinner made her moan. It was so good and better than she imagined. She knew that he was a cook but didn’t know the extremes. 

“This is the best food I've ever tasted.” She told him. He was pleased that she liked it but he knew what his perfect meal would be. 

She was on the kitchen table with her dress pooling around her waist as he licked her wet folds. He hummed as he tasted her juices that tasted better than any food he’s ever had. His finger ran up her clit causing her to moan. He loved that sound and wanted to hear more of it. 

Her moans echoed through his kitchen as he ate her pussy. One of her hands laced in his hair as the other gripped the table for dear life. His tongue felt amazing. 

He decided to add a finger as he pleasured her. His finger collected her wetness before entering her. She let out a whimper as his large finger invaded her insides. 

He pumped his finger as he licked her clit. Her pleasure was heightened by his movements and very intense. Her hips bucked and humped his face and finger as she was desperate for her orgasm. 

When she came it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Her jaw dropped and her eyes rolled back. Loud moans of his name left her mouth as he let her ride out the orgasm. 

His eyes never left her face as he stared in awe. Amazed by her beauty. She let out a breath and laughed. She looked down at him as his lips left her clit. “You’re very good at that.” She said out of breath. 

“When I like something I devour it.” He said to her and wink. She let out a breath that she was holding. This man would be the death of her and vise versa

[midnightwriter21]

May I have one where Giyuu saves a 4 year old girl from a demon and thus decides to adopt her? The girl is very quiet, like Tomioka quiet but also very friendly and curious. She hates loud noises due to coming from an abusive home and is often found on Giyuu? Headcanons please

demon slayer hcs: giyuu's adopted daughter

characters: fem!reader x giyuu, the hashira

HOW THEY MEET

giyuu arrives at the location for his mission

it was reported that a lower class family had been turned into demons and were recking havoc on the small town they lived in

at nightfall giyuu approaches the home of the demon family and is greeted by the father and mother

as well as a human child

the two demon parents toy with the child

pushing her to the ground

pulling her hair

but when the father raises a clawed hand to her

giyuu takes the opportunity

before the strike can land on the childs face

the demons heads have already hit the ground

the child stares at the severed heads with a blank look

immediately giyuu is kneeling in front of her to block the line of sight

and he is assessing the damage done to her and asking

"do you have other family?"

the girl stays silent but shakes her head

he stands abruptly causing the child to flinch and his eyes soften

by now the sun has begun to rise and the bodies of the demons are gone

giyuu walks into the house to find anything of necessity for the child

and he is disgusted to see that even though the family had no obvious lack of money

the child was provided NOTHING of importance

feeling a small hand latch onto his haori he looks down

and with a sigh giyuu is carefully picking her up and beginning the walk back his estate

THEIR RELATIONSHIP

several months after the incident a meeting is called with the hashira

before leaving his estate Giyuu receives a letter

taking it from his crow and quickly reading it Giyuu walks to the backyard

sitting there amongst the flowers is the young girl he saved

he walks to her and reaches out a hand to help her up

she takes it, stands, and then motions for him to lean down

he does

and then she plops a flower crown on the top of his head

its messy and its more stems and leaves then flowers but giyuu allows it

together they leave the estate and begin the travel to the butterfly mansion for the meeting

standing outside of the mansion the child digs her heels into the ground due to her nervousness stopping giyuu in his tracks

he kneels to her height taking the makeshift crown from his head and placing it on hers

and then reaches out a hand

she takes it and then he opens the door to the mansion

MEETING THE OTHER SLAYERS

as the door opens and they step into the room hand in hand all heads turn to them

a small women with purple hair and a teasing smile is the first to speak, "you're late Tomioka"

before the other slayers can add to her comment

a man with a gentle voice speaks "he is late because I had a last minute request for him"

he turns to Giyuu

"is she here?"

the other slayers murmur their confusion

Giyuu just gently tugs the hand of the girl and pulls her from behind him with a "she is"

The man introduces himself as the leader of the demon slayer corps and then asks for her to be introduced to the other people in the room before giving a gentle smile and leaving

The slayers go around the room introducing themselves

Tengen, Mitsuri, and Obanai were nice enough

Muichiro was kind but reintroduced himself 3 times because he forgot what was happening

Sanemi was intimidating and angry

Shinobu was also very nice but the girl didn't like how she interacted with her adoptive parent so rudely

and Kyojuro was a bit too loud

soon enough the girl finds herself sitting in the lap of the love hashira having her hair braided while the rest of the hashira are poking fun at Giyuu

the girl sits there silently watching until Sanemi takes it a step too far

"the poor girl probably doesn't even like you! i sure fucking don't. she's probably miserable staying with y-"

"don't be mean to him!"

silence

its the first words she spoken since she walked through the door

running and latching onto Giyuu's leg she glares at Sanemi

"the only person I don't like is you!" before hiding her face in Giyuu's leg

no one says a word

until Tengen bursts out laughing lol

quickly Sanemi becomes the victim of teasing and Giyuu and the child are forgotten

Giyuu kneels down to her and puts a hand on her head

gives her a small smile quick enough so that no one else sees

picks her up and they head back home together

im soft for papa giyuu

[yjhariani]

Warnings: Profanity, angst.

“Again, does anybody have a lighter?” Price asked a little louder this time.

Soap gently elbowed Ghost on the side. Ghost only turned to look at him, tilting his head a little to show his annoyance.

They were almost in the middle of nowhere. At least they had electricity and water. What they did not have was a lighter, thus Price’s moaning. He was going to light up a cigar.

Ghost knew why Soap was elbowing him. Soap was referring to that lighter in Ghost’s pocket. The one he held personally for himself and himself only.

So, Ghost ignored the sergeant. Price had arrived in front of them by then.

“Simon, you smoke,” Price brought up.

“I don’t have a lighter,” Ghost said.

“You pray with it every night,” Soap muttered.

Price and Ghost looked at him. Ghost was practically glaring at Soap. Soap looked like he wished he had not said a word.

“Am I missing something?” Price asked.

Ghost said nothing and now Price was also looking at Soap rather intimidatingly.

“I… Ghost has a lighter,” Soap said.

“I don’t,” Ghost insisted.

Price now turned his expecting glare at Ghost. That got Soap a little confident to proceed.

“As I said, he basically prayed with it every night before he sleeps,” Soap continued.

“Just this once, Simon, I will lose my shit if I can’t get this cigar lit up,” Price said.

Ghost did not react at first, but seeing that the two of them were not going to let this go, he shot a final murderous glare at Soap before putting his hand into his pocket. He held the lighter in his palm and pulled it out of his pocket. 

Looking at the captain, Ghost almost did not want to hand out the lighter. However, he ended up opening his palm and revealed the lighter that sat on his palm.

It was as if the whole area turned frozen. Gaz had just walked in and saw the reveal. Even he stopped at his track.

The lighter was yours. It used to be yours. It did belong to you. It did not belong to you anymore. It belonged to Ghost now. You gave it to him before your last mission. The mission that got you killed.

Every thing was fine before that—no, every thing was perfect.

Ghost and you were basically a nightmare couple. A nightmare as in badass motherfuckers who got shit done effectively. Sure, there were flaws such as the constant passive-agressive flirting, recklessness, and tense eye contacts, but, damn… the two of you were great at your job together.

That last mission was indeed going to be your last mission because you decided to not renew your military contract and you both were about to get married. Without telling anyone. However, the others just knew. They always knew that the two of you would end up together one way or another.

Then, shit happened. The worst happened. The irony.

You ended up buried under the ground and became a memory. Ghost ended up here, with these three, more bitter than he ever was.

You always had his heart and it was buried with you. Whatever sentimental left in him, it was out of respect of the memory of you. Of the memory you both were about to make and never did.

Price, Gaz, and Soap never brought you up. Not since the funeral. Price tried and Ghost ended up walking out of the room without saying anything, slamming the door on his way out.

This would be the first time anything about you ever came up ever since that incident. Soap had no idea it was the lighter. Ever. So, his heart did not only stop when he saw it, it would blow up if it could. Gaz used to borrow the lighter to do tricks, so he would recognise it from afar. Price had his cigars lit up by the lighter a few times before.

The four of them were frozen there for quite some time.

“So, we don’t have a lighter,” Price concluded before anyone of them started bursting into either anger or tears.

“Yeah, we don’t,” Soap nodded. “Steamin’ Jesus.”

“You know, there’s a stove in the kitchen. You can light your cigar up with it,” Gaz brought up. “I’m about to cook something, too.”

“Right, right,” Price nodded before walking away.

“I’ll help make sure no one’s burning anything down and get us compromised,” Soap stated before leaving the area.

Ghost stayed where he stood a while after they left. He stared at the lighter for some time, thinking about what you might say if you were still here. None of them would be this messy. The four of them would likely be laughing right now of some stupid joke you made.

Maybe you were still here. He might be the Ghost, but you were the ghost now. Maybe you were laughing at them right now.

“Would’ve been nice if you’re here,” Ghost said under his breath before pocketing the lighter back.

[odxrilove]

pairing: neighbor!wonbin x f!reader

genre: neighbors to lovers, babysitting!au (kinda)

warnings: reader has a baby brother, mentions of reader blushing, 2k

a/n: my first riize fic ^^ i hope yall enjoy this hehe

back to masterlist !

“you know, you shouldn’t even be here right now.”

“yn.”

wonbin’s tone is stern and you cross your arms, letting out a loud huff to show your discontentment. from your position in the kitchen, you can stare at your neighbor-turned-babysitter all day, but you’re currently angry, so you opt to pout and grumble instead.

you can clearly hear wonbin sigh in defeat and you watch him lean back on his arms on the floor from the corner of your eye. he’s a few feet away from your little brother, giving him enough space to draw in his coloring book.

the handsome boy (you’re angry, but not blind) turns to you, black hair perfectly framing his stupidly pretty face. your eyes fall to his lips for a second. one second too long apparently because soon he starts to grin and you have no other option than to look away and pout again.

a chuckle leaves his mouth and it annoys you more than it should.

he tilts his head a bit and looks at you, eyes raking over your casual outfit. you’re really trying to not look his way, simply because you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing your attention is on him but you’re still curious as to why he seems more concentrated on you than on his job.

don’t look.

your hand covers your mouth as you spin your pen with your fingers, swiftly clicking on it before writing a new sentence in your notebook, elbow propped up on the kitchen island.

all the while you flip a few pages in your textbook to get to a new chapter of history, wonbin hums, high fiving your brother when the latter shows him his colorful drawing.

you swear you’re not paying attention, but the way you can hear him smiling as he speaks softly makes your face burn, ears turning red. he’s good with kids, and although you’re supposed to be pissed at your parents– and thus him– you can’t help but admit he’s doing a good job.

you would have done a good job too, you tell yourself.

your hand stills over the counter, pen inches away from the paper. in not even one second, you went from being productive and finally getting some homework done to thinking about wonbin and his pretty eyes.

you hate this, because you swear you’re angry at him. or at least you’re supposed to.

deep down you know that the so-called hatred you have for him right now is a way to stop you from thinking about what you really feel for your neighbor.

gosh, his eyes are just so pretty.

maybe you’re overreacting a bit too. maybe you’re being a bit dramatic, because the way wonbin starts to frown as he notices your brows furrow makes your heart throb.

you had decided to sit at the kitchen island to do your homework, because the kitchen table seemed a bit too close to the living room. but now that you’re actually in the kitchen, you realize you’re facing him (and your little brother, of course) and if you’d even look up for one second, eye contact would be guaranteed.

this sucks, you think, as you slide off the barstool and wander deeper into the kitchen. maybe if you’d fake looking for something to eat in the fridge, he would finally look away.

without really being thirsty, you grab the first carton you find and move to pour yourself a glass of whatever said carton contains. ah, apple juice it is.

you think you’re finally starting to get more comfortable in your own home after wonbin’s arrival but then he lets out a giggle– one that you find absolutely adorable too– and your lips freeze on the brim of your glass, head snapping towards the living room. “what.” you almost bark out, eyes fierce.

“it’s nothing,” wonbin has to swallow a laugh and divert his eyes, waving his hand in front of his. “don’t worry about it!”

you put your glass down on the counter and put a hand on your hip, eyes big and confused. “tell me,” you just watch as he lets out another giggle at your desperate tone, “c’mon! i’m gonna think you’re making fun of me if you don’t tell me.”

“your slippers,” this time wonbin looks at you, really looks at you. he sees how your eyes go wide and how your nose twitches in surprise. he sees how your lips fall open and gape at him and he sees how eyelashes flutter when you blink rapidly. he speaks up again, still looking at you, “they’re cute.” you’re cute.

“ah,” you nod, a bit surprised.

“you can compliment me back, y’know”

“i can literally kick you out right now.”

wonbin only puts his two hands up, a teasing smile clear on his lips as he admits defeat.

–

it’s slowly getting darker outside, the sun disappearing behind the houses in your neighborhood.

you’re on the last page of your essay when wonbin closes the living room curtains and finally agrees to your brother’s request of watching his favorite film. you find it rather domestic, how he’d hauled your brother from the floor to the couch and how he’d draped your blanket over the both of them.

the disney film is on pause as your brother babbles about his classmates, excitedly recounting yesterday’s events. you go to turn on the stove to prepare dinner and smile to yourself when your brother mentions the solar planet you had helped him make for his science fair. you smile even bigger when wonbin applauds him and makes him promise to show him one day, because he has to see how good you two are (his words).

when the water is boiling in the pot and you’ve stacked and pushed aside all your school work to prepare for dinner, you don’t directly realize you set the table for three until wonbin points it out, leaning casually against the fridge.

“i didn’t know i was invited for dinner.”

you shrug in an effort to act as casual as he is, but it comes off as rather stiff so you just turn away, mindlessly stirring the pasta. “well, i wouldn’t want you to starve. who else would my parents turn to when they’re in need of a babysitter?” certainly not me.

you’re clearly still a bit bitter that your parents don’t trust you to babysit your own brother.

wonbin just laughs, like he’s having the most fun knowing you’re irritated at him for replacing your “part-time job”. you send him a nasty glare and it only makes him chuckle more, obviously entertained by your displeasure.

he goes to lean on the counter next to you as he watches you do your magic, as per your brother’s words, and lightly bumps his elbow into yours. “c’mon, i know you’re not really mad at me for being here.”

you flick his crossed arms and check to see if the pasta is not overcooked. “i just don’t understand why they’d waste money to get a babysitter for him when i literally exist and live here!” okay, so maybe you’re not being hundred percent honest and are more pissed about the babysitter being wonbin than the waste of money but he doesn’t have to know that.

wonbin continues to stare at your face, tracing your side profile with his eyes. “i offered to babysit, and your dad knows i’ve been saving up for a car...” his smile is teasing when he shrugs as you send him a glare.

“and what if i was saving up for a car? you’d be ruining my chances to do so.” you’re stubborn and not letting go.

your neighbor, who’s actually way too close to you for your liking (you’re sure he can count your beauty marks with how close he is) stifles a laugh. “we both know you’re not saving up for a car,” his voice insists on the ‘not’ and you know he sees you rolling your eyes. “besides, you don’t need one.”

the pasta looks good as you go to grab two oven mitts, glancing at wonbin from the corner of your eye. you’re confused and he knows because not even a second later and he’s grabbing the oven mitts from your hands and carrying the pasta to the kitchen table. “i can always just drive you around, y’know. contrary to what you think, i do actually enjoy your presence, babe.”

when his words register in your brain, you can’t seem to move from your spot in the kitchen and wonbin finds it all too cute, smiling while ushering your little brother to sit at the end of the table.

babe. babe? “babe?” your fingers find wonbin’s hand, wrapping slowly around his wrist when he walks past you to get some glasses. he stops in his tracks, tilting his head a bit and smirking at your surprised gaze and vulnerable tone.

he just nods, the top of his cheeks blushing only for a fraction of a second. unbeknownst to you, his heart is beating like crazy. “shouldn’t i have called you that? you don’t like it?”

you shake your head, still startled from him calling you by an affectionate nickname, something he had never done before and something you would have never guessed he would ever do.

“It’s alright,” you say, voice suddenly shakier than usual, “i didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

your fingers let go of his wrist but he doesn’t directly move away, staring at the way your other hand is holding tightly onto the kitchen counter. he notices how you’re reaching for the utensils but your mind is focusing on something else, your fingers absentmindedly pulling the kitchen drawer open.

suddenly, wonbin feels a pang of guilt. he can’t seem to decipher what the expression on your face means but he’s worried he might have gone too far, or that you’re too far gone in your head.

“hey,” his voice startles you out of your thoughts, “are you sure it’s okay? i can stop if you want–”

“no!-” your panicked tone startles him a bit and you clear your throat, fiddling with one of the rings on your fingers, “i mean, i– i didn’t mind it? i quite liked it.”

wonbin’s eyes widen a bit, surprised but thrilled. “oh.”

“yeah.”

the short awkward silence between the two of you gets interrupted by your younger brother’s complaints, and you quickly move past wonbin to serve the youngest one in the house a big plate of spaghetti (his favorite).

it’s only when you’re seated at the table that you realize wonbin’s marched over and took your plate, serving you before him. he looks almost ethereal under the warm kitchen lights and you can’t help but stare, this time not caring about getting caught.

the pasta looks extra good when he puts your plate down in front of you and your stomach grumbles at the sight, earning a slight chuckle from the boy in front of you.

your baby brother’s focus is entirely on his dinosaur shaped fork, which wonbin takes as an opportunity to reach over the table and grab your hand, drawing a stifled gasp out of you. his thumb is rubbing circles on the back of your palm and your hand feels heavy but comfortable in his grasp.

your gaze travels from your intertwined fingers to his face and you almost melt at the soft look in his eyes. it almost looks like he’s in love.

he is, but you don’t know that. yet.

“let me take you out on a date, please.”

the way his voice gets stuck in his throat and his tone gets breathier tells you everything you have to know and you squeeze his hand lightly in a comforting manner. he anxiously bites the inside of his cheek while he waits for your answer and he’s glad you don’t see his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

“i would love to, wonbin.” your cheeks turn red and your lips automatically curl, revealing the smile wonbin likes so much.

the stress leaves his body the second the words leave your mouth and he suppresses a nervous laugh, free hand coming up to push his hair back.

“yeah?”

“of course,” your smile is contagious when you nod, “how could i say no to you?”

general taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @atrirose @haisuken

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[flowerandblood]

Formula for perfection 

[ Michael • Gavey x painter student! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, fingering, sexual tension, angst, smut, humiliation, swearing, brat taming ]

[ description: After what happened between them, Michael decides, albeit reluctantly, to fulfil his promise. He tries by his own efforts to recreate what he felt then, to understand what made him experience such pleasure, however, when he tries to satisfy himself something is missing in his equation. But what? Sexual tension, angst, domination and humiliation kink, bitchy, ironic Michael. ]

Part 1 − Equation without solution

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him that after everything that had happened between them his brain had stopped working, slowed down only to handle his basic vital functions like breathing, but apart from that he felt a void in his mind.

She told him she would stay with him for the night if she could sleep in his shirt and he felt his cock pulsate hard in his sweatpants at the thought. He just gave it to her and watched as she buttoned it up with her back turned to him so that he couldn't see anything.

There was something exciting to him about fucking her without seeing her naked body, that even though he had come inside her a moment ago she was still a mystery to him, an unsolved equation.

He turned off his lamp when she lay down next to him, his bed was single and thus cramped, there was no way their bodies wouldn't touch at their slightest movement, however it didn't seem to bother her.

He turned away from her and she snuggled her body against his back to fall asleep in that position. He couldn't sleep for a long time, thinking and analysing what had happened between them, coming to the conclusion that she had planned it, that she had only done it in order for him to help her, knowing that he would not agree otherwise.

Helping her was not in his interest, he had his classes and theses to write, however, he was a man of his word and figured that since he had taken on this task, he would do to her what he had promised.

He hadn't opened his eyes in the morning when he heard her slowly get out of bed and begin to dress, pretending with a pounding heart that he was asleep, and only opened them when he heard her leave.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief then, feeling strangely excited and anxious at the same time in her presence, unable to decide what he thought of her.

He decided not to bother himself with it.

The next day, at her request, he came to her class. She ran up to him with a thick album in her hand, inside the pages had coloured markers which she had to stick on beforehand. They stood at the side of the classroom so as not to disturb other people who were just painting a model.

"Look. I'd like you to examine all these portraits and decide whether you see any correlations in them other than the golden ratio and the Fibonacci spiral. It is basic that with a portrait the golden division lines are on the eyes and mouth, and with a bust on the head and shoulders, however, this is not enough for me."

She said lightly, looking at him with great excitement, and he sighed heavily, not feeling like doing it at all, seeing no point in it.

"What if I don't find anything like this?" He muttered indifferently, looking through the book she had given him without much concentration. The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"Nothing. Just try."

Even though he decided right away that he would move on from what had happened between them and not dwell on it, he couldn't forget the feeling she evoked in him when he was deep inside her, when she apologised to him, when she looked at him with that innocent, pleading gaze.

A pleasant shiver ran through him at that memory and he licked his lower lip involuntarily, letting out a loud breath.

He had never before come fucking himself with his own hand while watching any porn as hard as he had with her then.

He recognised, however, that it wasn't a matter of her as a person just her behaviour and what she said.

Thus he imagined this scene again and again as he satisfied himself, only with the body of another woman, the kind he liked to see in films. This brought poor results and only aroused his frustration.

Something was missing, but he had no idea what.

He replayed in his head again and again that night, what she had done, what she had said, the way she had kissed him, the way her hands had roamed his body, what he had felt and why. He had no idea what he was supposed to do to evoke the same reaction in himself again, to feel it again.

He thought perhaps it was the result of surprise, the excitement of the unfamiliar and unknown that made him perceive everything so wonderfully strongly, and now that he knew it had no effect.

Discouraged, he began flipping through the album she had given him, looking at the paintings page by page, bored. Suddenly he stopped and went back a few pages earlier.

The positions of the figures in both paintings formed an isosceles triangle.

He took a notebook and wrote it down, drawing a schematic next to it.

He was intrigued to notice in the various paintings that the people portrayed were inscribed in various geometric figures, usually triangles or regular shapes, delineating the entire composition, on whose lines were the most important points of the work.

He was shocked at how something that looked so chaotic and haphazard could be so well thought out, arranged with such great precision.

When he showed her the result of his work the next day she began to squeal with delight, making him not know what to do with this reaction.

"Thank you! Now it all makes sense!" She exclaimed cheerfully and threw herself around his neck as if it was the most joyous day of her life.

She let go of him, looking at him with those big eyes, and he grunted, correcting his glasses with his pointing finger when he felt them slip off his nose.

"Are you going to use that?" He asked out of the blue, wondering if his work would have any results, or if he was doing all this for nothing, just to satisfy her curiosity.

"Yes, now I know why something didn't seem right in my portrait. I chose a composition where her arms are too close together, and I have to position her so that her figure forms an equilateral triangle! Would you like to see the end result?" She asked him lightly, and he muttered under his breath and nodded, looking around the room without much interest.

"How can I repay you?" She asked softly, and he looked at her surprised, wondering if she had already forgotten what they had done.

"I have already received my payment." He said with a mocking smirk, however this did not seem to discourage her at all.

"True." She said with a smile, turning away from him as if nothing had happened, going back to her easel and sitting down on her chair beside it, putting his notes aside and glancing at them, marking with a pencil how she should change the composition without paying attention to him.

He felt that he had made a mistake in his calculations as soon as he looked at her bare thighs sticking out from under her girlishly light dress, pleasantly framing her waist and breasts, his manhood pulsed painfully hard.

They were completely alone in the room.

He bit his lower lip, feeling that he should move from his place and just leave, that he was standing in front of her like an idiot, but the thought that she might have wanted more made his heart pound hard in his chest, the pulsing blood rushing quickly to his lower abdomen.

Why did she take him off balance so easily?

"What is you problem?" He asked annoyed, feeling that he had to understand what she was talking about, that it wouldn't give him peace if he just left her alone now.

What did she want?

Why was she so fucking unpredictable?

She looked at him surprised as if she had completely forgotten his presence and blinked, her face perfectly calm and gentle.

"What?" She asked and he rolled his eyes, frustrated, correcting his glasses again with an impatient gesture.

"What do you fucking want? Hm? Do you like playing with boys?" He asked with the grimace of amusement characteristic of him in moments when he felt insecure and needed to quickly regain control of the situation.

She looked at him in disbelief and completely froze in half-motion.

"I'm not playing with you. I never wanted you to feel this way." She muttered with some kind of embarrassment and fear that she might have hurt him, although that wasn't the point at all.

After all, he felt absolutely nothing for her.

"So what did you want? Fuck strange, desperate guys?" He laughed in disbelief and she moved uncomfortably in her seat.

"No, just you." She said softly causing him to completely freeze, some type of error entered his brain and his thought processes stopped completely.

He pressed his lips together, glancing down at her thighs again, thinking about what was between them, that he felt like pressing her against the wall, turning her to face towards it, and fucking her from behind.

He swallowed loudly when he saw her gaze drop to the bulge in his trousers and turned away, wanting to leave the room immediately, terrified, but her voice stopped him.

"Do you want me to come to you again? To help you with your problem. A favour for a favour." She asked lightly drawing further, not even bestowing a glance on him. He looked at her over his shoulder, shocked, wondering if she was really proposing what he was thinking about.

He stood stunned for a moment simply staring at her, not believing that he was completely hard, that if he could he would have thrown himself at her and ripped off her fucking panties.

"To fuck?" He choked out without thinking and she burst out laughing, glancing at him with amusement.

"Yes."

He couldn't believe he'd agreed, afterwards he completely panicked and walked out, leaving her alone, wondering what he'd actually done.

What if someone finds out? If he gets kicked out of university?

On the other hand, Kyle was constantly visited by girls who moaned so loudly that he could hear them in his room. However, he was rich, he could afford to be so thoughtless.

He could not.

He had been restless all evening, fearing what would happen, whether she would laugh at him, whether she would be disappointed in him when she saw how little he understood and could do when it came to female fulfilment.

He shuddered when she knocked on his room door. He stood up, opened it for her and simply let her in. She stepped inside with a confident stride as if she had been in his place many times before.

She sighed heavily, as if tired after a long day, pulled off her shoes and threw herself onto his bed, laying down on her stomach, snuggling into his pillow.

He stared at her for a moment, again feeling the same emptiness in his mind as before, glancing down at her thighs and the part of her buttocks that was visible from under her dress. He licked his lower lip, feeling a throbbing in his trousers at the thought that he could approach her, that he could touch her.

He moved with a slow, uncertain step towards his bed, her eyes closed, her face gentle and calm, as if she trusted him completely although he didn't understand for what reason.

After all, he could hurt her, take advantage of her, how could she be so reckless?

He sighed quietly under his breath in surrender, pulling off his glasses and putting them down on the desk. He sat down slowly beside her with a loud creak of his bed, his large hand went to her soft thigh and rose higher, tentatively squeezing her firm buttock.

"− so pretty −" He hummed more to himself than to her and she murmured with some kind of contentment, he felt her buck her hips up so that they came out to meet his warm hand.

"− do you visit many boys like this? −" He asked with amusement, slipping his fingers under the material of her panties, squeezing her flesh in his hand, massaging her in a circular motion, a shudder ran through her body every time he came anywhere near the heat between her thighs.

"− only you −" She mumbled, and he swallowed hard, feeling squeeze in his heart at her words, running his fingertips over her hot entrance, gathering her wetness that slowly began to flow out of her, feeling her body shudder each time he rubbed against her clit again.

"− why? −" He asked drily, applying pressure to the point hidden between her folds, he heard her gasp loudly for air, surprised and thought with amusement that she enjoyed it.

"− I − I don't know −" She babbled with increasing difficulty as he finally discovered what pressure from his fingers and where made her quiver, his movements accompanied by the louder and louder click of her moisture, her hips pushing against his hand, trying to find a stronger source of friction.

"− are you no longer able to put together a meaningful sentences? − all you need is for someone to tease your pussy a little and you can't concentrate? −" He asked amused, sliding the tip of his middle finger into her, her body arching, a loud, surprised, innocent moan escaping her lips.

"− I'm sorry −" She mumbled in embarrassment, and he felt her words in his cock, all swollen and throbbing, felt the whole situation turning him on more and more.

"− yeah? − and that's why you're leaking like a slutty little thing? −" He sneered and slid his finger deeper between her tight, hot, rough walls, pulsing hungrily against him.

"− please − a little higher −" She whimpered, and he licked his lower lip, changing the point of pressure, suddenly feeling a rough spot between her muscles, which when he touched her whole body went through a shiver, her lips parted wide.

"− yes, please, there, please −" She cried out loudly clenching her fingers on his pillow, moving her hips to the rhythm of his hand, feeling his heart pounding hard, watching enthralled as her wetness dripped and slicked with every movement of his finger.

"− so fucking wet from rubbing her cunt − that's what you came here for, right? − do you like someone to watch while you lie spread open like a little slut? −" He hissed, a sudden loud, pathetic moan escaping from her throat, her moisture beginning to spill out of her, her walls clenching tightly on his finger.

He rose from his seat and knelt behind her, unbuttoning his trousers quickly, feeling that he couldn't resist any longer, that he wanted to feel her.

"− lift your hips up and slide your panties down − now −" He commanded coolly breathing loudly and she immediately obeyed his instruction.

He lowered his boxers and his swollen, throbbing cock slapped against her buttocks. She whimpered, feeling it, squirming beneath him. He grabbed her thighs and spread them apart in front of himself like a book.

"− shut the fuck up − are you in such a hurry? − so desperate to feel my cock? − fucking slut −" He growled and forced his way inside her in one sure, brutal thrust, immediately imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her, she pressed her cheek against his pillow and cried out loudly, her lips parted wide in surprise at how intense the sensation was.

"− oh fuck −" She whined, moaning and quivering, her walls clenching against him giving him a resistance he didn't seem to mind though, panting loudly along with her as he held her firmly by her waist, slapping his thighs against her bare sticky buttocks with each thrust.

"− you have no fucking shame − do you want me to fucking fill you? − hm? − a bit of cum wouldn't hurt this tight little pussy, would it? −" He hissed out between intense, fast, deep stabs of his hips, feeling that he was on the edge, that this was what he needed, what he wanted, her moisture running down her thighs.

"− Michael − oh God − yes −" She mewled in ecstasy as her body was finally shaken by her orgasm, her face expressing pure delight, her walls were clenching down on him making him just give up.

"− fuck − shit-shit-shit −" He babbled with his eyes closed and his lips parted, panting heavily as he finally cum inside her, his warm semen filling her core. Their bodies moved for another moment with the loud, sticky click of her juices, his hands stroking her buttocks.

It was fucking mind-blowing.

He looked at their joined bodies and just breathed, concentrating only on the pleasure and relief he felt, only on the fact that he wanted to do this with her as often as possible.

There was no other option.

"Wanna be my girlfriend?"

_____

@at-a-rax-ia @daemonskelitsos @@alphard-hydraes-blog @travelingmypassion @valeskafics

[patolemus]

Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

[writingforatwistedworld]

just thought of something random — shower thoughts. So, you know how even if you score 0 on twistunes it still counts as “clearing it”? Imagine you doing that with a self aware au. to make it funny, how about riddle, Vil, and Sebek

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, self-destructive behavior, violence, abusive behavior, unhealthy lifestyle, murder, religion, obsessive themes

Riddle Rosehearts/Vil Schoenheit/Sebek Zigvolt-Scoring 0 whilst playing Twistunes

Here you are, our (perhaps) determined twistunes player, usually (or maybe not) trying your best

And that is fine and dandy and lalala happy happy

The TWST cast, however, doesn't see the twistunes as rhythm mini games though

For them, you are guiding them in some sort of task, not hearing the huge orchestra that appeared out of nowhere

There is always your guiding hand, reassuring that things go right even when a certain feline (*cough* not looking at you Grim*cough*) decides to act all high and mighty

Until, one day, there you are not helping anymore

Another splendid day to do your most splendid bidding... in the form of baking a cake

Yeah, I know, what daunting task you have layed upon him!

But he know he doesn't need to worry. After all, you are there to help him (not like his magic could do that for him in one second I mean come on there has to be a spell to crack some eggs and spill some milk ISN'T SLEEPING BEAUTY CANON OVER THERE??!)

He picks up the whisk... and nothing

Ok... maybe you just weren't looking! So he puts it down and then picks it up again

Nothing… Aren't you funny! Messing with him like that… (No pls help he is dying on the inside has he broken a rule? He followed rule 199 perfectly, wear blue if you need to whisk eggs)

One second later and he is panicking

This is a test, right?

If you could look through the coding on the other side you would see a panicking riddle who is this close to setting the kitchen on fire

At least that is the case until Trey finally steps in and decides to help his childhood friend out

After everything is finally over, Riddle is panicking

He has lost your favor, you didn't help him with this mighty task: shoving dough into an oven

Riddle will without any question learn how to bake cakes

Heartslabyul will eat salty snacks after dinner for a while but ok, unlike other things Riddle has done in your name this is rather tame

That does not mean he is kind to himself though

He will deprive himself of anything that makes him happy. Whether that is cake or his precious time with his friends

Sooner than later he is once more the red tyrant on his throne, “chopping” heads off all the time once more.

But everything but imperfection for you

Vil was just practicing dancing for that competition again

He took great pride in being guided by you

After all, who could say they were being taught dancing by the personification of perfection itself? (Although he was surprised that you knew modern dances, most of the time you were pictured in more traditional and old-fashioned settings)

Until suddenly you didn't guide him anymore

And thus, the floor and Vils face became very good acquaintances (You could hear Rook screaming from somewhere "Pas le visage!")

On that day Vil learned that your guidance had one up and downside

The up was, he always danced perfectly. The down, he forgot how to do it on his own

Now, we are talking about mister I-have-at-least-500-Thaumarks-on-my-face-in-makeup

So of course he is going overboard immediately

"Oh how nice, Vil Schoenheit is practicing"- No. This guy has gotten a warning from his doctor that he needs to stop because otherwise his legs could sustain damage from so much training

Epel? Well Epel is living in hell right now. Poor little apple gets the full brunt of his frustration

Overall, Vil gets toxic, and I don't mean just toxic but toxic toxic, but what about his more private life?

Well, he is just miserable, and horrible to himself, but most of all miserable

He turns back to his self before his overblot, being unnervingly perfect, having absolutely no chill when it's about being his best self

But there has to be a reason why you have abandoned him. You are his muse, the reason why he forced Epel into a routine that can only be described with "uh... help?"

But enough excuses! He had his salad and now he needs to train. His doctor? Well his doctor doesn't want to achieve being close to you so what does he know

(He got send into the hospital with a broken leg later that day. Talk about self-destructive behavior)

(ouch, my ears)

Let's assume that Sebek gets a twistune in which he practices his skills with the sword

He thought you were proud of him, you helping him to become stronger so he could fulfill your bidding (well-seasoned yandere readers what I mean)

Then, he felt your guidance slipping like the sword now sticking dangerously close to his foot in the ground

Many screams, one description: panic

When Lilia heard the not so crocodile-y crocodile scream bloody murder on the outside he thought that someone just didn't speak fondly enough for Sebek about Malleus

So wannabe Batman was more than surprised when he learned that you just “abandoned” his student

This leads to now, Sebek sitting in front of the small altar he has in his room (a trademark of Valley of Roses students)

Seek isn't Malleus (I know, shockers) so there isn't gold

But what if there is something different he can offer you? You left him when he was using his sword so could you want… (No Sebek, no, stop it)

Suddenly disappearances happen all over the school

Weirdly, they seem mostly from Sunset Savanna or the Shaftlands… the two places where you are least seen as an alrighty ruler/God and more as an inspiration

Such a shame that the officer hired to look into this was also from the Shaftlands. Guess that adds to the pile of disappearances

All whilst this is happening Sebek is busy cleaning his clothing and sword. Can't be dirty when he prays to you

With hope in his voice he tells you about his deeds but why aren't you coming back? Is it not enough? It's not.. enough…

This world is filthy, he says. This world needs to be cleaned of the pests that don't show you the loyalty and respect, he says.

But what do you say? Exactly. Nothing.

[ghostlywhiskey]

John Price - Hell on Earth - Part 2

Pairing: Lawyer!John Price x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,304 Warnings: Mentions of masturbation Summary: Three months into being Price's main paralegal and while the late nights, work load and attitude is everything you expected - there's something you didn't entirely expect to find out about him. Notes: I recommend reading part one before this part, just to understand a few things, etc. Please be advised I did not proofread at all, so if you catch anything I apologize. I always read through after posting and fix things. But, here is part two of lawyer!price. Enjoy! :) ▸read part one here ▸find my masterlist here

It had been two weeks since the odd behavior John displayed when you had stayed back late at the office the same night as him. But, as quick as he was timid and distant after that night, he was back to his regular self even quicker. 

And if possible, an even more intensified version of himself. While some days he had opted to work from home after court, he had been in every single day. All the paralegals on edge with his looming presence in the office, which was a downside of him being in every day. For you personally, it was ten times worse considering you handled all of his files.

Everyone just had to avoid and stay clear of his gaze. That wasn’t the case for you - there was no way to avoid him being the handling paralegal on all his files. Any drafts of documents, questions on cases, updates and everything of importance brought to his attention. But you quickly learned that while he seemed in a bad mood to everyone else, you were able to gauge where he stood on certain days based on how loud or quiet he was in his office and the way his emails were worded - down to the punctuation being an indicator. 

The cheat sheet was as followed:

Thanks! - The exclamation would make others quick to assume he was in a good mood, but you learned it just meant he was annoyed.

Thanks. - Avoid him at all costs that day if possible. He’s pissed. Can’t avoid him? Then hope everything you send him is perfect and error free.

Thank you. - While it seems harsh and again, the period making him sound pissed off, it was the complete opposite. The addition of you made it genuine on his end. It was the same when he spoke, you noticed a small tug at the corner of his lip when he would say ‘thank you’ before quickly heading off back into his office. 

You never did come across a ‘Thank you!” yet, but that bridge would be crossed when you get there. 

And in terms of how he signed off on an email, while his signature block was always included, he always added John or JP before it.

John - Typically used with outside counsel.

JP - Used with the in office employees, quick and simple. 

But since working with him directly, you noticed he used ‘Price’ with you a lot. It felt a lot less personal and personal at the same time. ‘Price’ as if he didn’t want you to refer to him by his actual name, making it less personal. But, it was personal in the sense that you noticed it was never used with anyone else in the office after asking a few others.

Regardless, every day you were becoming a more skilled paralegal based on the content of work John was giving you. Which part of you was thankful for, it would help in the long run for when you would decide to go to law school or if you would try getting another job, making any application of yours appealing. 

The sound of your name penetrated through the closed office door, your body instantly stilling and the email you were writing coming to an abrupt stop. The way your brain ran through all the tasks you had done thus far today to try and figure out if you had done something wrong, but nothing coming to mind.

Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the desk and stood up to walk to his door. Knuckles tapping three times on his door to make your presence on the other side known before you opened it, standing in the doorway as you made eye contact with him.

“I need a motion for a protective order. Son of a bitch filed a notice to admit.” was the only context Price had given you, no file name or anything. Nor a greeting. 

But having familiarized yourself enough with all of his files, you knew the exact case he was discussing. The notification from the court came earlier today that it was filed. 

“I’ll draft it for your review and get the exhibits ready.” you said confidently, having drafted one before you had an idea of what he would want to include. 

“Fuckin’ bullshit.” he muttered, tossing papers in his hand onto his desk and standing up. “I want it filed today. I’ll review it before it goes out.”

“Yes, sir.” was the only response you gave, not wanting to deal with the wrath he would exude from the remainder of the day. 

And that’s how you were up until 11:00 PM that night. After multiple revisions emailed back and forth between you and Price, exhibits prepared and reordered more than once; your finger finally pressed the ‘CONFIRM FILING’ button at the bottom of the court website.

And when the confirmation page popped up, you quickly saved the receipt into the file and shut your laptop. Standing up from your desk, you made your way to the bathroom and finally got ready for bed. The need for sleep hung over you as your feet dragged you to bed, collapsing onto the mattress. As you were setting your alarm, the text notification at the top rang out into your room to meet only the sound of your soft breathing.

John Price (Work): Thank you. Appreciate you staying up to file it.

For a moment, you thought your sleep deprived brain was pulling a trick on you. But, you had forgotten when he assigned you to all of his cases that you had exchanged numbers. It was just the first time he decided to use it instead of emailing.

Fingers quickly typed a response as your eyes were on the verge of shutting. Quick and simple you responded:

You’re welcome. Have a good night. 

The last thing you remembered was your phone slipping from your hand as you rolled over in bed, sleep overtaking your body until the alarm would wake you up the next morning.

And the next few days went on seemingly normal, whatever twisted normal was when it came to working in a high anxiety inducing firm. 

While Price had left closer towards the end of the day, around 4:00 PM, his last hour was spent with the door shut and obnoxious music blasting; you still found yourself in the office again until 7:00 that night.

The usual cleaning lady, who you learned was named Ana after multiple nights spent clocking overtime, made her way around the office. But, what caught your attention was when you heard her scuff while she was in John’s office. Intrigued, you couldn’t help but glance over and straighten in your seat as you watched her dump the contents of his trash can into her larger one.

“Everything alright, Ana?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what caused her disgust.

“Is Mr. Price sick?” she asked, coming out of his office with her cleaning cart. 

Sick? In the head, maybe. Fighting the common cold, not so much. 

“Not that I know of, no.” you shook your head, the expression on your face must have given away the fact you were wondering why she had asked.

“So many tissues in his trash.” she huffed, shaking her head. “Don’t go near him, maybe have some soup tonight to keep yourself from getting sick.” Ana suggested before reaching for your trash can to dump the contents into hers.

“Mhm,” you hummed, not thinking much of it. “Will do, Ana.”

“He’s jerking off.” Morgan says flatly, her espresso martini meeting her lips before she sets it back down on the table. Finally, you had met with her for drinks after you left the office that night, no excuse to use as it was a Friday night.

“You’re crazy. There is no fucking way,” Morgan’s hand going up to stop you as she leans forward in her chair, elbows resting on the table. 

“What reason might a man, who isn’t sick, have a shit ton of tissues in his garbage?” her words make your body stiffen at the fact she might be right. “A man who is jerking off.” she answered her own question, her drink coming to her lips once more.

Not sure why you find yourself trying to defend him, you roll your eyes before speaking, “I doubt someone as professional as him is jerking off during the work day in his office.” 

Morgan’s eyes stare directly at you while she holds her glass close to her lips, the silence building until she chuckles. “You’re serious?”

Shifting in your seat, you reach for your own drink and take a sip.

“You’re quiet because you know my assumption is right.” she points out, setting the glass down. “If people have sex in the office, I’m sure jerking off isn’t as far fetched.”

“No one’s having sex in the office.”

“I am.”

“Morgan!” you exclaim, chucking your crumpled napkin at her. “Are you fucking joking?” the hiss of your words causing her to giggle again, her head shaking ‘no’. 

“Kidding, but my coworker is.” she sings out the last two words, a smile appearing on her face. The thought of it makes you think more about her assumption of Price.

That man is way too tense. Angry. Surely he would be far more pleasurable if he was jerking off at least. 

The snap of her fingers in your face pulls you from your thoughts as you leave your zoned out state. 

“Play detective instead of lawyer one day. See if you can figure it out.”

And that is how on Monday you found yourself distracted the whole day as you tried to get work done. Price had been in the office since you got in around your usual time, his door opened for most of the morning until noon when he had a call.

The call lasted for no more than 30 minutes, the indicator being the loud music that once again blasted through the closed door. Your body perked up, head turning away from your desk as you looked towards his office door.

What if the music is to sound out...oh my god.

Quickly grabbing your phone, your fingers typing into the Google search bar: ‘how long does it take for a guy to jerk off’.

5 minutes. 10 minutes. An hour. All of these answers are different. 

Your eyes glance back at the door and then at your clock on the computer. If I give it ten minutes, maybe I can try knocking on his door. Setting the phone down, you bit your nails as you clicked away on your computer, but your eyes were more so focused on the clock rather than actual work.

And when ten minutes hit, your body raised from the chair and legs slowly made their way towards his door. Knocking softly at first due to the fact you didn’t want him to hear it, part of you wanting to be in denial that he could be jerking off. 

But, when there was no response, you knocked again louder. This time, a voice combining with the music behind the door.

“Five minutes.” his voice was stern, you didn’t notice anything abnormal about the tone, but quietly you retreated to your desk. 

It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t confirm anything. And when you resumed your work, you nearly had forgotten you had knocked on his door as you got wrapped up in work. Except, the door abruptly opening more than five minutes later startled you as you looked over to see Price.

The color of his cheeks had a red hue to them, besides that, everything about him was put together. 

“Did you knock?” his throat clearing as he asked, hands slipping into his pockets of his pants.

“Uh,” you looked at him, caught off guard by his question despite the fact you were expecting it. 

He furrowed his brows, but his expression wasn’t one of confusion, but rather annoyance. “It’s a yes or no question.” he stated, walking closer to your desk. The warmth radiated through your body out of nerves, watching as he got closer.

“Yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes, I knocked,” you confirmed, looking up at him as he towered over your seated body. “But I figured out the answer to my question. It was silly.” 

His mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape as he stepped back, nodding. “Alright,” his throat cleared again before he started to head back to his office. “I have another meeting at two, don’t go knocking unless you are completely unsure about a question.” The door to his office slammed shut, causing your body to jolt.

The rest of the day went by rather quickly after that and Price left not long after his meeting. However, for once you stayed back willingly despite having no work or deadlines to worry about. 

Ana wasn’t going to make her rounds in your office until 7 and everyone else was cleared out as you peeked around the office at 5:30. 

So, as you got back to your desk area, you couldn’t help but make your way to Price’s office. Your hand reached for the light switch on the wall, glancing around the office before you stepped further in. 

Turn around and accept you have no proof he was jerking off. No, don’t turn around - get confirmation. 

The voice in your head going back and forth with itself as you walked over to his desk, pulling his chair back. As you bent down, you grabbed the rim of the trash can and pulled it towards you, peeking in.

Tissues.

And before you could process anything else, the same gruff voice that became the reason for your around the clock anxiety filled the office.

“What are you doing?”

For all my non-law besties, here's a quick explanation of the legal jargon I mentioned:

Notice to Admit - A notice to admit facts is an invitation to another party to admit specific facts or parts of a case.  If no reply is made within twenty days, or at a time set by the court, the matters contained in the notice to admit are deemed admitted.

Motion for Protective Order - A request made by a party to the court to limit or prevent the disclosure of certain information or documents in a legal proceeding. In this instance, arguing that the Notice to Admit is being used as a purpose to disclose discovery, but that is not the purpose of it. Therefore, an abuse of the purpose of the Notice to Admit.

[demontonic]

Hayden Christensen - The first time

H.C x actor reader

In which you try to avoid him during training but it’s useless when Ewan puts you up against each other in a friendly match.

Word Count: 2099 words (que spiderman theme song. IM NOT JOKING THIS IS THE ACTUALLY COUNT)

You were new to the industry, you had only been in two movies thus far. The first one wasn’t big, it was just an indie film that horror movie nerds happened to like. From there you got picked for an audition for a bigger movie that would be put in a few theaters. However here, now, you’d never really expected such a huge change, you weren’t going to be playing a huge part. It was a flashback for the upcoming series Ahsoka, you were going to be a Jedi for a short time. They were doing another scene for order 66 in which Anakin goes against someone whom he’d become acquainted with during training. A battle was to be choreographed which meant you were going to be up against the actor who had single handedly started your acting career.

You were a huge Star Wars fan and without a doubt one of the kids who had lightsabers and a few Clone Wars coloring books. As you got older you looked into Anakin’s actor Hayden Christensen and grew to love the movies he’d done. Of course you thought he was hot, who wouldn’t love the nerd in Shattered Glass, or the punk in Life as a House? Sure he’s older now but that didn’t stop you from absolutely freezing up the second you walked into the training area. He’s significantly taller than you, that much you already knew but now it made you feel even more anxious. Interviews of him (which you of course obsessed over in your younger years) depicted him to be very nice, but you can’t always judge someone based on their interviews.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself as you placed your hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?” The trainer had questioned, a slight concern showing on her face. Hayden had also looked to you, the thin lightsaber prop swinging effortlessly to his side as he awaited your answer.

“Uh- Sorry I just got a… um- a headache is all.” You lied while your hands gripped onto the prop like it was the only thing grounding you.

“I have tylenol in my bag, or some water if you want?” Hayden’s hands gesture over to the black backpack that was leaned against the wall next to yours. Your throat ran dry as you opened your mouth to speak, before choking on your words and coughing… quite literally choking on your words.

“Yeah, the water should be fine.” Hayden walked over to his bag before pulling out two bottles and handing one to you. He stood there however as you took a small sip and placed it back down.

“Nervous?” He snickered lowly while he waited for you to collect yourself.

“Pfft… can you tell?” You questioned softly, looking up at his sparkling blue eyes. My god you’d dreamed about meeting him for practically half your life, but all you did was fumble. The casting crew never really gave you a lot of information, just that it was for upcoming Star Wars content and that they’d needed to fill a small jedi role. Nothing could’ve mentally prepared you to meet your living, breathing, wet dream.

“It’s just training right now, so there’s really no need to stress, we can all help you learn everything you’ll need to know.” His voice was so calm and endearing, maybe it was the daddy issues talking or the fact he is a dad, but it was so comforting.

Even three months into your training you’d distanced from Hayden as to not make a complete fool of yourself. He’s almost 40 at this point with a child you’d assume he was tired of the wild fans. Even so during training you’d often slip up while your eyes were trained on his swift movements. Sometimes you guys would get together and have little matches to see who could win. It was a random pick or whoever decided to challenge someone, and it was no different today. Everyone had finished training but the energy had been so vibrant that here you were on the cushioned floor in a circle. At this point it was no secret your character and Anakin were to have a final battle, but you had never gone against each other in these matches.

“Okay before we start, would anyone like to call someone out?” Rosario Dawson, Hayden’s childhood friend who’d been training for a separate project, questioned the small group.

“This isn’t a call out but I’d actually like to see Hayden vs Y/N without their choreography.” Ewan suggested while sitting on the blue mat cross legged, a childlike smile on his face. On one hand you were a shell of a human around Hayden, but with Ewan it was like he was your favorite uncle. Had you at some point in time found him incomprehensibly attractive? Yeah, but he’s the kind of nice that makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

“Oh come on, is that even fair?” You whined, alluding to the obvious experience points he had on you.

“Are you calling me old?” Hayden jokes lightly as he steps forward into the circle, the group collectively letting out a low ‘oooooooh’.

“I mean your character is the chosen one, I don’t know if my three months of training can compare.” In all honesty you had tried your hand occasionally at a lightsaber when you were younger, so you had a little bit more experience than you let on. The amount of times you’d watched the behind the scenes,their practicing and training helped you recognize his moves.

“I’ll go easy on you, how about that?” His arms were outstretched to his sides in a shrug. A smirk was playing on his lips as he stared at you expectantly.

“Easy? Okay Christensen I’ll fight you.” Competitive couldn’t even begin to describe the drive that suddenly pumped through your veins. The way his eyes zeroed in on you, and the familiar smirk you had only dreamed of seeing in person made your adrenaline kick in. All the information you’d ever retained while watching those extras, would finally be useful for more than proving a point in a dumb argument online.

“Let’s not forget who’s had more training.” Hayden said with a scoff as you both got into your beginning stances. Yours mimicking the form Obi-Wan took while fighting Grievous, Ewan didn’t miss it, how could he? He simply stood with his left foot pointing towards you, his right braced for a sprint, and his saber behind him ready for a strike. You were reading him like a billboard, he never strayed from the forms he was taught, but you were a fan with too much time so you had a few of your own moves.

“May the force be with you Master Skywalker.” You said before he charged, you dodged the first strike but he had already begun to recover from the miss. A huff came from his chest as he swung the flimsy pole back down, meeting yours with a loud clash. The group let out sounds of shock and excitement as he pushed you down to one knee, he was stronger than you. It was no secret as height wise he’s an entire foot taller than you, so you quickly rolled from your position in front of him. He stumbled forward slightly, then twisted around to meet your blows. One to the head, down to the legs, up to the arm, then back down to his torso since it would be an awkward position for him to hold. You were both fast, you’d spent so much time learning basic defense in case one of you made a mistake it was too easy. Stamina was probably the only way you’d win this, or so you thought.

“You’ve learned well, young one,” he tripped you up, while you were focused on his words he’d hit you with the same move Anakin used on count Dooku. “although you’re too focused on me,” your ‘saber’ swung upward to slash his torso, but with a small step back, he dropped the pole to his open palm.

“And not my hands.”

“Fuck.”

The cool, thin, dented metal was up against the side of your neck as your arms were still tilted up in your last strike. Heavy breaths left the both of you as your small ‘audience’ went silent. The sound of your pole hitting the mat, signaled your defeat and in true style you dropped to the floor. The room erupted with groans and yells of victory from those who bet on Hayden. A few seconds of lying on the floor Hayden walked over, standing above you holding out his hand.

“Come on loser.” His smile was so genuine it made your face blush softly as you rolled onto your back.

“I can’t, I’m dead, rigor mortis.” You mumble, letting your tongue hang out the side of your mouth. You felt two arms scoot under your back and knees, quickly feeling your body lifted into the air. A scream came out of your throat as your hand quickly gripped onto Hayden’s loose shirt. The group laughed as he basically tossed you up and down, pretending like he was going to drop you.

“I don’t know why you’re screaming! Dead people don’t scream!”

“Oh- OH MY- PLEASE! GOD PLEASE! OBI WAN PLEASE!” He’d even managed to flip you on your stomach, your fingertips almost meeting the ground before he flung you back up again. Sure it wasn’t a crazt high distance from his arms, but add that with his height it was terrifying enough.

“So uncivilized!” Ewan mocked in a bad Obi-Wan voice, Hayden finally held you against his chest as he laughed with the rest of the group. Ewan came over with Rosario, both of them cooing softly at your semi panicked state.

“Put the poor girl down already!”

“She’s as red as a tomato Hayden!”

He let you down to your feet, still holding onto you as you stumbled lightly. Your chest heaved as you rested your hands on your knees, completely oblivious to how you practically pushed against Hayden’s crotch. His hand came down to rest on your lower back, rubbing softly while you regained your breath.

“I’m-… I’ll kill you for that one day Christensen.” You said through heavy breaths before standing straight again. Hayden’s hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, sporting a smug smile as the group began to discuss the next match. Hayden pulled you off the far walls where your bags lay, you both sitting in front of each other while he pulled out water bottles. For a while you sat in silence, just leaning against the wall watching Rosario and Ewan go at it.

“Were you ever going to tell me about your tattoo?” Hayden questioned, his voice staying low in contrast with the yelling from the group. At first you almost didn’t know what he was talking about, but then your cheeks turned to a dark red. On your wrist was the japor snippet Anakin gave Padme when they first met, and under it read ‘Skywalker’ in Huttese. Usually it was covered by a scrunchie or bracelet, but it must’ve slipped your mind today.

“I wasn’t planning on it, it feels too embarrassing to show you.” You held your arm out to him, since he’d already seen it there was no use in hiding it now. His hand pulled your wrist closer as he traced it with his fingers.

“I always wanted to get a replica of the japor snippet but I never did. I think this is really cool Y/N, you don’t need to be so nervous around me all the time.” He said quietly as he set your arm down on your thigh. Hayden was nice, but you were feral, you still couldn’t grasp the fact you avoided him like a schoolgirl avoided her crush.

“I-… I am not! The job is just so… overwhelming you know?” Lies, you shook as bad as a chihuahua when you were alone with him, practicing lines, fighting, and in general.

“It’s been three months and you still get distracted by just staring at me mid-fight.” A chuckle resonated in his chest as you looked at your blushing face.

“Okay… I just didn’t want to look like some nerdy, obsessed fangirl, I didn’t know how well that would go over.” Holding the cool bottle against your face you let your hair shield your face from the older man.

“I think it’s cute.”

And for the first time, you felt like maybe the star would align, maybe you would have a chance with the man you’d worshipped during your teen years.

I need to be his controversially young girlfriend HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY AFTER MINE idk i think its a sign or whatever🤞🏼 hope you liked this! feel free to make any requests! i might make a part two but idk yet

Masterlist

[adventuringblind]

Chin Up, Princess (2k words)

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Jos oversteps and causes a whole lot of hurt for Max and his mate, he takes things into his own hands and ends up resorting to extreme measures in order to save his lover. (Background Landoscar, Charlos, and Sewis)

Warnings: Mind control, talks of eating people and mentions of gore but nothing explicit, ghoul on ghoul violence, burning of a character, major character death (not a good guy tho), ED but like... also not an ED, soulbonds

Notes: Ironically the most tame ghoulverse fic I've done thus far. Thank you to🏍️for the amazing idea!!

Side Note: Feed my praise kink please?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It’s raining again. The kind of rain Monaco doesn’t see often. The torrential downpour that keeps everyone hidden away inside to keep warm. 

She watches the water droplets race down the window, wondering which one will hit the edge first. It’s not productive, but she needs something to distract her from the ache in her bones. The hunger pains have gotten progressively worse over the last three weeks. Still, she’s finding ways to cope. She has to manage; the pain is what’s keeping her sane. 

 It’s nice being home and hidden behind the water covered window. It means she’s free to drop the human look. All horns and tail, long tongue and sharp teeth, dark eyes and pointed ears. It’s natural - or it used to be. 

It doesn’t quite feel like her anymore. Like somehow everything that had once been a part of her is now irritating. Her horns are heavy and her tail refuses to be anywhere but the ground. All because his words sit in her head and bounce around the cavity in her chest. 

He changed her. 

~~~♡~~~

A month ago, she ran into Jos in the paddock. Even though she doesn’t like the guy, he’s still technically her king - and Max’s dad - so her father in law in a way. Max had mated with her (a heavenly feeling) but had done so without the consent of his father. 

Jos doesn’t like her one bit. Which she doesn’t care about. If Max is the prince of the demons and set to take up leadership at some point, that makes her a princess. They both dislike each other but in the essence of keeping things civil, she makes it work. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here today!” She nodded her head to show respect. Opting for that instead of bowing to this man in broad daylight. 

“I wish I hadn’t seen you at all!” Well - fuck you too - she supposes. She’d fallen into step beside him as they made their way to the Redbull garage. 

She nearly crashes into him when he stops abruptly. He grabs hold of her bicep and drags her down some alleyway between buildings. She goes with compliance, hell only knows what this man can and will do to her. 

Her back hits the wall with a disorienting force. “You’re not enough for us.” 

“I think you mean for you.” 

Jos hisses close enough to her face that she can feel his saliva hitting her. “The council decided you’re not one of us-'' He grabs her chin and she watches as his eyes fade to that deep dark color that usually means something bad is about to happen.

“You will not eat. You are not one of us. Am I clear?” 

She snaps at him. Her attempt at fighting his hold is futile. Not when the damn demon king is trying to hypnotize her. “No!” 

He clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The open flame hovers just above the healed over scar on her clavicle. She shakes, desperate to get away from the heat. “You will not eat. You are not a ghoul. You are not one of us.”

It’s a hypnotic tone that seeps through her ears and floods her veins. The heat of the flame no longer her one weakness as her mind submits itself to the will of her king. 

~~~♡~~~

Her jaw snapped shut. Her vocal chords refused to work. Her throat constricts around liquids. Her teeth become glued to each other each time she tries to bite down into something of nutrients. 

A month of this torture and she can feel herself getting progressively more ravenous. Slowly they’ve exhausted all of their options. No matter how desperately she tries, she can’t get any substance into her. 

Max’s reflection appears in the window. A frown etched upon lips. It doesn’t suit him; Max was made to smile. She likes being the one to cause it. These days it feels like all he’s doing is trying to ease her slow and painful death. 

He sits opposite of her and heaves out a gust of warm air on the window. His pointer finger paints a simple picture of a stick figure. It’s - objectively - a terrible drawing, but it serves its purpose and makes her laugh. 

“I’m scared, Max.”

“I know, schat.” 

They continue to stare out the window. The bond doing the talking for them, passing their emotions back and forth. He can feel her pain and she can feel his inner rage. 

Humans don’t understand. Maybe they never will. They fear those who are different. Think this way and do this thing or you're a monster. Certainly not all of them. Lando and Charles are prime examples of this. Still - surviving amongst them gets harder each day. 

“I know what you want to do.” She turns towards him. Unbidden in the comfort of their own home. His tail flicks in uncertainty. A habit he picked up from Sebastian. “I don’t want you to regret it.” 

“It’s inevitable. Just earlier than planned.” He won’t meet her gaze. “I can’t watch you suffer when I can stop it.” 

“You have always been the chivalrous type.”

Max slides closer to her. His thumb comes to the underside of her chin and pushes it upward. Her eyes have nowhere else to go, forced to get lost in his. A never-ending sea of endless dark that she’d willingly drown in. 

“Chin up, love. There is going to be a crown on your head soon. I’d hate to see it hit the ground.”

~~~♡~~~

She hates not being able to go inside. She understands why she can’t though. She already has the weight of one hypnosis spell weighing her down; she’s more susceptible to another. 

Still, waiting is nerve wracking. The sound of familiar roars fill her ears. Occasionally wincing when she feels Max’s pain. Mild compared to what it is for him. 

Lando and Charles are sitting on the ground with her. Their mates are inside with Max, along with Lewis and Sebastian. She attempts to hold close to the bonds of their tribe. They’ve been planning this for the last couple of weeks. Every hole is plastered with flexi tape. 

“Relax, chéri. They are fine.” 

She won’t open her mouth to mutter a thanks. Not when she’s already salivating and can smell exactly where their pulse points are. Not when she can hear the steady rhythm of their hearts. 

No, she can’t eat, but she’d also rather not risk it. 

“Do we have to bow to you after this whole ordeal is over?” Lando looks at her with a curious expression. “Cause like - Oscar doesn’t bend like that.”

Both her and Charles gape and the odd statement. Lando looks like he’s just stated the weather on an average Monday morning. 

“Lando, are you sure it’s not you who doesn’t bend like that?”

“I think I know how I can bend mate! How do you think we broke the table-“

Charles grimaces, his nose scrunching up and cheeks turning red. “Bleh! I don’t need to know how Oscar bends you.” 

“You asked!”

“And now I regret it…”

Another roar bellows into the night sky. It’s loud and painful. She looks to the boys beside her for confirmation that it’s not Oscar or Carlos. They nod at her, leaving only three options. 

She bolts inside. 

The roars turn to whines. The fire rages over the body of Jos Verstappen. Max has sunk to his knees, the sunset hues of the flames reflect in his eyes and illuminate the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

She falls beside him. Panicked hands search for any possible wounds; any burns in need of immediate attention. Max is crying as she does so, but he’s smiling at the same time. There are a million emotions running through the room. The large flames a mercy to the now deceased king. 

A fallen king lay before them. His body burned to ashes. They watch as he is devoured by the fire. The silence is deafening. The only noise being the roar of the flames. An irony that doesn’t go unnoticed. To feel serene with the one thing that would surely kill her if the starvation doesn’t first. 

Max is the first to approach the pile of ashes on the ground. He creeps up to it like they might reanimate. Like they might take back what they once had and reestablish their hold on her mind with no chance at her escape. 

Sebastian meets Max in the middle. He scoops handfuls of the ash and decorates Max’s skin. The Dutch looks miserable when Sebastian dumps a handful into Max’s own cupped hands. 

“Do I have too?”

“Do you want your fathers powers?” 

He groans, but doesn’t wait any longer. He tries to be serious, but there is an element of humor here despite the situation. 

“Does this mean Max is a cannibal now?!” She supposes Lando is trying to whisper, but the building they are in echoes. He chokes when he hears it. 

“Lando! I am trying to eat my father!” 

“So you are a cannibal!” 

Oscar slaps a hand over his mate's mouth. Briefly, a look of disgust flashes across his face. “If you  really think licking me will work, you are mistaken.” Muffled sounds from underneath Oscar’s hand escape, but nobody understands. 

Max is finally able to choke down the ashes of his father. Certainly not the most conventional of coronations, but she can’t picture it any other way. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where we were dropping to our knees for this guy.” Carlos chuckles from somewhere beside her as they close in on the new king. 

Not a prince anymore - a king. 

It suits him more, she thinks. Standing tall in front of his tribe, still laughing at Lando and Oscar and their odd positioning. At Carlos and his playful pride as he kneels. He exchanges a smile with Charles after years of rivalry now comes a shared respect. He turns endearingly to Sebastian and Lewis looking at him like proud parents. 

Then to her. She’s on the ground, her knees bruised already. Max pulls her up into his arms. He brings his hands to her jaw and once again she drifts into the calm of his endless eyes. 

Soft fingers massage her jaw. The one that aches with a desperate need for something she hasn’t had in so long. He’s gentle with her, like an antique porcelain doll that might break if he applies too much pressure. 

“You are worthy of every good thing. You are one of us, just as you always have been and you are deserving of your life.” 

The cement that had been fire in her veins vanishes as he speaks. Max keeps talking, but she’s too lost in the relief from these heavy feelings - the euphoria of knowing she belongs again. The cavern of her chest is beating with words of comfort. 

Her horns don’t feel like extra weights and her tail finds Max’s with immediate ease. They intertwine like they had before. 

“You are here and loved. You have a place with us.” He tilts her chin upward like he’s done since they mated. “Chin up, your highness, you’re a queen now.” 

~~~♡~~~

Sated. 

Her body aches from a full belly instead of the hunger pains. As does the rest of their tribe, she presumes. 

Max keeps getting phone calls… and he keeps ignoring them. Instead opting to keep his attention focussed on his tribe. His love for them - for her - is radiating through his every move. 

“I think King Max sounds good on you.” She flashes her teeth at him. The others are either chatting, or if you’re Oscar then you’re using Lando as a blanket and sleeping. They are paying no attention to them. 

“You think? I’d always resented it.” 

“You’re going to change things, Max. That’s not something to resent.” They hook tails again, a comfort she’d missed dearly. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now since you saved my life. I’m going to be the most demanding queen.” She waves her hand around for dramatic flair. 

“Oh yeah? How so?” 

“First I’m going to demand that you cuddle me - and I’ll figure out the rest later!” 

“As you wish, your highness.” 

[bokutosbiceps]

‘tis the season | kengan ashura

gaolang wongsawat/kanoh agito/kure raian/tokita ohma x gn!reader | fluff | ~1k words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit + obviously cursing bc rai is involved my piece of shit man

a/n: welcome to my xmas special for the kengan boys !! as usual, i chose to write for my fav men. it was sooo hard to decide wtf raian would do because he would refuse to do any of these activities but i think what i chose fits him p well LOL.also I’M SORRY OHMA’S IS SO SHORT BUT I THINK IT’S CUTE, m’kay, so pls enjoy 🎄

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

gaolang wongsawat finds going to the christmas market with you to be the perfect way to spend his evening. the first stop that you two will make, which is a must, is the coffee stall. he’ll pay for both of your coffees and tip the stall attendant just a little bit extra since he’s feeling the holiday spirit. then he’ll tuck his hands into his pockets and you’ll thread your arm through his and thus begins your journey through the stalls.

gaolang holds you close as you trudge through the market, appreciating all of the pretty stalls decorated with lights and tinsel. you two will stop at every single food stall, and gaolang insists on sharing all of his food with you. he thinks it’s cute the way that your smile reaches your eyes and scrunches your nose when you bite into something that’s hot and tasty.

otherwise, it’s mostly silent, save for the quiet murmur of the crowd around you and your excited comments at anything cute your eyes may land on. gaolang is silently taking note of these things, because he will be coming back to the market without you to buy you each and every one of whatever you showed any interest in. 

kanoh agito is a man of many, many talents, including chopping down the christmas tree for your shared abode. you and kanoh make the long drive up to the mountains to pick out your tree, and you stand back and let your eyes rake over you man while he swings his axe against the poor tree of your choosing.

he sheds his coat and his long sleeve, leaving him only in a tank top to allow for full range of motion, spits into his hands, and grabs the axe like his life depends on it. agito, all rippling muscles, swings the blade of the axe against the tree like a pro, using his hips to add extra power into his swing until the tree is hanging on by a mere, woody thread.

“were you a lumberjack in a past life, babe?” you joke as you watch him tie the tree down to the hood of your car with twine.

“lumber…jack?” agito doesn’t stop what he’s doing but he throws a questioning glance over his shoulder at you. you giggle, remembering that this towering hunk of man still has much to learn about the world around him. you walk up to his side and give the twine a good tug to ensure that it’s secure before turning around and leaning your back against your car.

“don’t worry about it. you were just chopping down this tree like such an expert, i thought maybe you’d done this in a past life.” you watch as agito shrugs his layers of clothing back on and comes back over to you, leaning on the car next to you.

“i’m surprised you noticed my axe technique since you were too busy ogling me.” agito smirks at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you into his side. you gasp in fake embarrassment.

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to resist! you took off your coat on purpose!” you tease.

agito just chuckles and leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head, whatever you say, doll.  

kure raian’s least favorite thing about moving back into kure village is the fact that he is required to decorate the house with christmas lights. erioh gets on his ass, starting in september, to remind him that he must decorate his villa to keep the village looking nice and uniform for the holidays.

“the fuck do i care about uniformity and niceties? we’re fucking assassins, not little ass elves.” raian grumbles as he untangles the string of lights. he continues to mutter and and whine while he fights with the cord and you’re watching in pure delight as you lay out the corny, tacky decorations you bought for the front yard.

raian brings the ladder down from the garage wall with one arm, his muscle flexing and relaxing as he brings it to the spot under the peak of the roof. 

“get over here and hold the ladder for me.”

“can i get a please?” you raise your eyebrows at him, knowing full well you’re in dangerous territory as it is.

“i ask my bitch to do something for me and i get lip?” raian huffs a laugh, throwing his head back in an exaggerated manner. “just get over here before i lose my shit.” 

you laugh and obey your husband, dutifully holding the ladder steady while he quickly and cleanly hangs the lights on the edge of the roof. you’re surprised at how efficiently raian works, and how it actually doesn’t look like shit when he’s finished.

“i’m proud of you, rai.” you smile at him and press a quick kiss to his lips when he comes down from the ladder. despite the annoyed frown on his lips, he’s quick to snake his arms around the small of your back as he looks up at the roof, seemingly proud of his work. he nods in satisfaction before turning back to you.

“now, why don’t we go back inside and you can show me just how proud you are, hm?” raian’s hand drifts down the small of your back till it reaches the top of your butt. you just shake your head and smack his hand away. 

“we’ve still got the yard to decorate, stud.”

tokita ohma is okay with the holidays, because the holidays mean it’s gonna get cold, and the cold means you’re gonna turn on the fireplace, and turning on the fireplace means he will be napping by the fireplace. ohma really only finds it comfortable enough when you’re with him, though, so he’ll wait for whenever you’re not busy to pull you onto the carpet in front of the fireplace.

he wraps his body around you, tucking your head underneath his chin and bringing his knees up behind yours to effectively keep you trapped. lastly, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist and pulls you backwards until you’re flush against his firm chest.  he lets out a deep and content sigh, and you can imagine that his lips are curled upward into a soft smile as he closes his eyes.

“don’t leave, ‘kay?” he mutters before letting out another sigh. you chuckle softly at his request, wondering how on earth you’d ever even be able to escape the strong embrace of your lover. but it’s not like you’d want to anyways.

taglist: @ohmaswife | @kamesama | @thebigevilsamp | @itbitesback | @aloelotustea | @hoe4rairai | @himbo-in-limbo

[cinnamonest]

//breeding, very heavy focus on impreg + pregnancy/motherhood stuff, sort of in conjunction with [this post] as well as [this post]

Happy (one day belated) Mother's Day, let's celebrate the joys of motherhood :)

------------------------

Childe has no concept of a small family. At least, not of it being acceptable.

It's part of the culture of certain nations' rural areas, Snezhnaya being one of them. Everyone in the rural, smaller town regions strives to have big families. Maybe it originates from a rougher climate leading to a need for ensuring the survival of one's lineage, or something like that, but regardless, for Snezhnayan men, having a lot of kids is one of those masculine pride things, and by contrast, not having lots of kids is unthinkable, shameful even.

So, of course, he's long since decided on having a large family. He's wanted it for so long, but his work has prevented him from following the other tradition that rural areas and smaller towns in all nations are known for... you know, marrying and starting to have kids practically the millisecond one reaches adulthood.

He's young, sure, most people would think him too young for that sort of thing, but in his mind, he's grown up seeing people marrying and starting families at very young ages to be normal, expected. Which means he's missing out on what he's more or less entitled to. He knows from visits home that all the kids he grew up with are already marrying and having kids at his own age. But is he going to let his position stop him? Of course not. So, truthfully, he had this in the back of his mind for some time, and he just so happened to take the opportunity that presented itself.

In other words, you were just in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and just so happened to not only fit a list of physical preferences that caught the wrong person's eye, but also just happened to be so defiant, so resistant, and far too often cold and mean. Perhaps if you hadn't been, he might have left you alone. If you had just entertained his fantasies, even in word only, he might have had a bit of pity on you, felt a shred of guilt at the thought of tearing you away from your life.

How ironic that a defense mechanism you intended to deter him, would have ignited the very urges you wanted to extinguish, an unintended consequence of applying normal tactics to a sick mind.

But regardless, you just happened to meet, and thus now you're here. That's what he tells you, after whisking you away and bringing you to live with him, constantly pulled from one dark room to another between his room on the ship, Fatui bases, hotels in various regions, and every other place he spends the night. Not with that exact wording of course, no, he's got that excitable, almost childish romanticized view of things, he portrays it as aligned fates, that you were destined to cross paths at the right time.

It's part of one big long spiel you get. The whole you're going to stay here and nothing you can do will change that part is spoken very quickly and nonchalantly, while he treats the other parts with much more importance, namely his intentions for the future.

That being, you're going to have a big family and have lots of his kids. That you'll be a mother. He says it very happily, like you're a young just-married couple or something, like the living scenario you have is normal, like you're here of your own volition.

It does take you by surprise at first — you had thought you were being taken as more of a sex slave than anything, but quickly find you're being treated more like a spouse, in a... really odd way. That, too, is done with a blissful but casual attitude, as if he's almost unaware of the gravity of the crime being inherently committed by having you here... although you suppose people like him are more or less above the law. He announces his arrival when he returns each day, is very affectionate towards you, laughs off any hostility from you as if it's a grumpy little kitten making a fuss, not a human being with a very justified reason for vitriol.

He's very transparent and straightforward with you, it's not like he's trying to slowly ease you into it or enact his wishes without telling you what will happen, no. No deception. No avoidance of the topic. And not a single shred of willingness to compromise.

No consideration of how you may feel about that matter. It's not a discussion, it's telling you. Merely communicating information that is already set in stone. The information is laid on you so fast and suddenly that your mind is left reeling. First you're forcibly fucked and dragged here, now you're being told it's permanent and oh by the way get ready to start the rest of your life as some mother-slave-wife amalgamation?

It's too much for you to handle. What's even more baffling is that even as you protest, he just blows it off like it's nothing, like this isn't an incredibly grave, serious ordeal.

B-but... I don't want--

Ah, you think that now, but you'll be happy, promise.

But... but you can't just do this to me!

Yeah? What are you gonna do to stop me? Haha....

That all still doesn't give you quite the same extent of nausea compared to the next set of information you're given.

Even if you were familiar with the cultural norm, you didn't realize the sheer extent. You knew he had like, what, six or seven siblings? That strikes you as a large number, so it fits with what you're aware of regarding the norm.

You didn't realize that was an average number to them. Not until he told you so, in the midst of his ramblings about your future, when you gathered the courage to ask what he means by "big" when the words big family come out of his mouth.

He pauses, looks up pensively. Well, anything less than five is small, he says, anything from five to eight is about the median, and anything above that is when you finally get to be considered to be "above average". So his family, with seven or eight or so kids total, is kind of in the middle, about average, in his own words.

But he wants a big family. So, you know, gotta at least hit double digits.

He says it very casually, like it's no big deal. He's too excited to notice the look on your face, at least not for a few seconds, finally turning to you after realizing your stunned silence.

Mm? Something wrong?

...That... that's... I can't...

But your protests are quickly brushed off again. Sure you can. Your body is perfectly capable, so what would be stopping you? You're just worrying too much. Don't think about it so much, just... lay back and let it happen.

In most regional cultures of any nation, people do tend to at least plan families — they save up a bit first to make sure they have enough money, they calculate the gap between when they have a first and second child, often not wanting to wait too long so that the children will have more time and similarity to bond, but not so soon that the added responsibility overwhelms the parents.

That's not something that crosses his mind. He has no reason to worry about finances, sure, but he also pays no mind to questions like is this really an environment to raise a kid in? Is the tsaritsa okay with that? Where will they stay?

Eh... that's all stuff that can be dealt with another time. He tends to take the philosophy of crossing bridges when he gets to them. Baby-planning later, baby-making now.

And nothing you can say deters him. Yes you'll be a good mom (don't worry, he'll make sure you behave exactly like he thinks a good mother should), yes you'll be fine, the Fatui has some of the best doctors in the world, so you'll be great health-wise, actually. Yes he has the resources.

And no, he's not waiting. You have this weird insistence on this idea that you should have a period of time where you just... aren't even trying to have kids. Is that normal, where you're from? Do people really get together, get married and live together and not immediately start trying for a baby? Won't that detract from the maximum number of kids you can have in the end? Then why would anyone do that?  When he asks that very question, though, you don't really have a good answer, to him at least. You can't just rush something like that, is what you say.

But... of course you can? That's what he's trying to do, rush it so you can go ahead and get a head start and have more and more kids in the future. It's like talking to a brick wall. He cannot process, cannot fathom how people can exist for whom making as many offspring as possible isn't the number one priority in life. Well, whatever, it seems you just have these weird cultural ideas you're not going to let go of, so there's no point in trying to reason with you.

His determination is somewhat obsessive. Even when he's inside you, hips bouncing off the back of your thighs, he keeps talking about it, words slurring as he mumbles something about putting a baby in you, knocking you up, so on and so on, all the while, gripping at your hips and making sure to slam all the way in as far as possible when he finally cums inside you. Maybe he's already accomplished that, who knows, but he has to just keep trying until it's certain, so you only get a few minutes of respite before starting back again.

No condoms. No pulling out, even though you beg for him to do so. Whimpering and pulling at his hair, pushing at his chest, all night long, over and over.

N-not yet, please, I'm not ready, I can't...

Your pleas are partially just for the very sake of not wanting that, but of course, there's also the fact that you realize it will be a death sentence to any hope of escaping him. You've been looking for ways to do it since you were dragged here a day or so ago, you can't let this inhibit you. You just need some more time, just a little bit of time...

You don't get that time.

It doesn't take long. He's young and virile, so, perhaps that's why you don't even get a single cycle from the time you get brought to him. The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach. At first, you don't say anything, deciding not to bring the matter up unless he does, partially out of your own denial, and partially because seeing him get inevitably excited will irritate you.

Apparently, they must have some rather atrocious reproductive education out in rural Teyvat too (or, rather, you realize it's probably just fine, and it's more the fact that he probably paid no attention), seeing as he had no idea that that is the standard tell, instead asking you hey, is there a way you can tell if you're pregnant? Do you just wait for your stomach to get bigger or...? and thus, you had to reluctantly explain that.

You can sort of see the gears turning in that otherwise empty head of his. You've been here two months now... you haven't bled at all in that time (he would know, he's been fucking you multiple times a day)... so that means...? You can practically see his eyes light up before he reaches out and wraps his arms around you. He's ecstatic for the rest of the night, won't shut up about all the things you're going to do. You feel sick.

Not that this information in any way impedes him from continuing to empty his balls in you on a daily basis, no. It doesn't slow down in the slightest. In fact, you were sort of hoping he would get turned off the further along you got, since you know that happens with a lot of guys... but not him. No, if anything, you're pretty sure you have more rounds per day the further along you are, sometimes he'll just look you up and down, staring at your belly for a few moments with a haze in his eyes before more or less dragging you over to bed -- and it's not like you can resist much, you're all wobbly as it is...

And, of course, any negativity from you is shut down on the spot. At first, he mistakes it for nervousness -- don't worry! It'll be fine! He can recite those words with ease, over and over, telling you to just not worry about it is his default answer to any concern you have. But once you start getting a bit more openly negative, making it clear it's an attitude issue from you, and finally crossing a line when you outright state you never wanted this, and thereby implying the most heartless and callous thing he can conceive of, that you're going to be resentful of him and your child... it's one of the few times you ever see him not all smiles and sunshine about the whole thing. A complete change of expression, face going dark, eyes narrowing. He grabs your jaw with a grip so firm it hurts.

Don't say that.

It's one of the few times you've seen him so serious and firm. It makes your heart skip a beat.

But almost as soon as he says it, he's back to being cheery... ah, you're just grumpy because you're hormonal and all that. You're lucky he has thick skin. Besides, you're too cute to take your grouchiness seriously, haha... what's that look for...?

And soon, you find yourself in a state of dissociation, having to process and accept reality once you have a living, breathing infant in your arms. It's not until that moment that the reality truly sets in, that you can feel your fate being sealed, that you realize this is actually, genuinely the beginning of the rest of your life.

You try not to dwell on that.

It's hard not to, though, considering that you barely get any time to rest, being pestered each day with questions of how many more days left until the doctor said you can have sex again?? Because he's suffering and miserable. He was devastated to find out you can't go back to it in less than 24 hours, no one ever told him about that part. And you don't even seem to sympathize with him, are you heartless? Yes you gave birth five days ago and he's been very loving and taking care of you and all but haven't you thought at all about how this is affecting him? Yes you sucked him off because the whining was getting annoying but it's not the same, he needs pussy you don't understand, why are you looking at him like you're mad— did you just say "weeks?" As in plural? As in more than one week? Surely you didn't mean that, it can't be that long, right? Why aren't you saying anything. It can't be that long, it can't—

So he fucks you like a man starved when you finally give a green light. It does burn a bit, after having gone a while without getting so ruthlessly stretched and pounded as he always does to you. You're pretty sure he doesn't know his own strength, doesn't realize the sheer intensity of the force with which he grips your hips and arms and throat and presses your face into the mattress and fucks into you with such strength the whole bed creaks as it rocks back and forth. You'll be covered in bruises and sore spots in the morning, just from the grip.

And you notice the way his fingernails dig into your hips, holding your bodies as close as possible, the closer and closer you both get. You feel a sense of dread. You try to reach up and tap on his arm.

D-don't cum inside, it's too soon... I need more time, I'm not ready yet, please—

Just a little bit of time, just some time to feel like you can finally breathe, but once again, you don't get that time.

Shh... don't think about it... just focus on how good it feels, okay?

You whimper, but you're incapable of pushing him off, only able to make soft little sounds of protest when he stops fully inside, making sure not a drop goes to waste when he stuffs you with cum. He stays inside you for some time, not pulling out so as to prevent any from spilling. Just like he did before. And he holds you, rubs your back, says soothing little mumbled things about how you worry too much while you sniffle and tremble.

And then there's two.

He does take quite a bit of pride in it. That applies when you're alone too, he likes to lay his head on your stomach laying in bed and will just relax there for a while, grinning like an idiot. But it applies to others too; it's somewhat of an ego boost to have other people see what he views as an accomplishment. He likes showing you off in general, but he's especially happy to parade you around whenever you're very heavily swollen up. It's some sort of ego thing, you guess.

He likes getting to show off the kids too, a testament to a sort of success. It's a very simple-minded sort of pride, almost humorously so, you often think to yourself. A simplistic mentality of look at these! I made these!, almost a childish pridefulness.

Which, frankly, gets on your last nerve, how he loves to run around forcing his reluctant and rather annoyed coworkers to look at his offspring and listen to him ramble, so beamingly proud of the kid that you carried and you birthed and you care for and you feed and bathe and put to sleep, so proud of their existence as if he did anything to contribute to said existence other than being a sperm depository.

And then there's three, and then there's four, and then you get the special blessing of two at once. You think to yourself with bitter humorousness that you're over halfway to the set standard. And then there's another... and another... the realization even strikes you, a few years in, that since beginning your "new life," you've spent more time pregnant than not pregnant, information that you spend far too long taking in the weight of.

It's an incredibly awkward living situation — you basically were granted what used to be a few interconnected rooms they'd house a few bunk-bed-fuls of soliders in, turned into a sort of apartment-esque dwelling. It's where you carry out most of your tasks and live your life. You never get a break, always getting another one pumped into you as soon as it's physically possible again.

With him gone most of the days, and you having no job to speak of, you've essentially taken on a housewife role, and spend most of your day caring for the increasing number of offspring, each and every one of which, to your dismay, quickly proves to have inherited a rambunctious, hotheaded, and far too energetic nature. You will reluctantly admit, he does actually help you out quite a bit when he can, and genuinely enjoys doing so. You suppose you can admit he's actually more involved and enthusiastically helpful than a lot of fathers are... you don't give him the satisfaction of such praise, though.

Still, he's just gone for most of the day on most days, so you have to do it by yourself, or enlist whichever unfortunate newbie soldier has not yet learned to not go wandering around that one area, lest they be roped into helping out that poor slave-mother-girl that lives in that section with all those energetic kids, so they try to warn newcomers... still, some actually still offer to help, if nothing but out of pity.

Most of the time, though, it's just you and the ever-increasing number of children. You felt bad the first time you called one by the wrong name. They all look so much alike — and each one is so close together in age to the next immediate older and younger one — that you get confused sometimes, and it quickly becomes a habit, but they're quick to correct you. And you do end up loving them — you suppose that's just instinct — but sometimes... it's just too much. You can't get a spare second. You feel exhausted.

You're constantly moving, taking care of something. This one fell and scraped his knee and comes crying and blubbering to you, and you're still bandaging that up and mumbling words of comfort when you get a tug on your sleeve from behind you — Mama, I'm hungry — and you barely finish saying just a minute, I'll get you something before another one is calling for you from another room — MamaaaaAAAAAA — and soon you're holding one in each arm (a more difficult task than usual considering you're heavily pregnant again), waddling over to go check on the one that called you, and then another one comes softly shuffling over with a look what I found!, and you know it's going to be something very simple like a cool-shaped rock or leaf like always, but you don't want to hurt the poor thing's feelings and want him to be happy so you stand there smiling and feigning interest and awe and pretending it's the neatest thing ever while your arms start to tremble from the strain of holding two heavy sacks of flesh in each arm -- still trying to soothingly bounce the sniffling one up and down a bit -- and the other one is saying something but you can't make it out because three of them are talking at the same time and oh god where's the fifth and sixth ones because you told them to hang on when you went to bandage the first one and now you don't see either one and is the seventh one still asleep where you left him or not and you start to panic and -- hang on just a second, ______ -- no, I-I mean, ______ -- no, wait, uh... which one are...you're -- uh --

You feel like you're going insane. Each and every day wears you out in full.

When you finally get that rare, wonderful moment in which you can get all of them asleep at once, finally go lay down to try and get a much needed rest yourself... you always seems to have such precise timing, you barely close your eyes before the door opens and you get the announcement that your lover who you certainly must have missed is home, and what do you know, everything is so quiet, this gives you two an opportunity to make another one!

The only downside for him is that sometimes, the existing offspring have a habit of interrupting the sibling-making process... so, sometimes some poor underling (rather, usually, they need at least two or three to control them all) gets saddled with a command to entertain and herd the harbinger's offspring when he takes a day off, giving you two a day to yourselves... not to go out or anything, no. You usually spend the entirety of those days in bed, going at it like rabbits again and again.

And again. And again. Sometimes you get summoned by some underling to follow because his superior needs you for "something important," which you both know is just getting fucked over a desk or in a hallway closet because he has needs you know, and it's torture to have to wait until he can come back for the evening. Stuffs you full of cum and rests his head on your chest for a moment to recharge (they're so nice, all soft and swollen, more or less perpetually so these days), before sending you back, promising to hurry and come back for the night as soon as possible.

Oh, and you don't even get the respite of having him gone at times whenever he has to go abroad. No, he brings you with him... yes, all of you. He insisted, and eventually the few authorities above him gave in and now reserve a few extra rooms all next to each other on the ships and hotels. You don't mind that too much. It's basically just a vacation for the lot of you, and that's what you tell the kids it is too... at least they're more easily entertained than usual by looking out the window, which gives you chances to rest.

Ajax likes those trips too. He's usually more worked up and frustrated by the end of the day, and what better way to blow that steam off than to come back and breed your wife-pet again and again? He smiles when he tells you you should use these trips to set a new goal of making at least one kid in every nation. You know better than to think it's a joke.

When the people you're allowed to interact with and meet ask you how many children you have, you often have to pause and recall what number you're on now. Regardless, the answer always makes people's jaws drop. At least most of them know not to ask you why, since they seem to be well aware it's not a choice on your part. Sometimes people commend you for it, say something about how it must be so hard. Your eye twitches. You have no idea. Haha.

Everything happened so fast, the full weight of it all doesn't really dawn on you until one day, for seemingly no reason. Woken up in the early morning by crying, the same way you're woken up roughly 9 out of 10 mornings, groggily shuffling out of bed, tending to whatever the issue is before shuffling back to bed... you catch a glimpse of yourself in the window, the dark circles under your eyes, and for once, the rare sight of yourself not heavily swollen up. Still, your face is exhausted, the sort that sleep can't fix.

The reality of it settles in — you've been so busy with everything happening, you never really got to process how much time has passed, how deep into this life you've settled... you supposed in the back of your head, even after accepting the current reality, you kept this mentality that you'd still find a way out one day, but in that moment, you realize all too late that that will never happen. Even if you had the chance — and looking back, it occurs to you now you've had many chances to run — you could never bring yourself to abandon them... you get the sense that's part of his intention. It's just never really settled in in full until this moment.

Still, all you can do is stand there, trying to despair, but almost too numb to do so... you let out a heavy sigh and let yourself fall back into bed, pulling a blanket back over you and settling back into the warmth. Your weight falling onto the mattress makes it bounce a bit, causing your bedmate to stir, groggily moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

He murmurs something asking you if the kid is okay, you say yes, and then it moves onto asking what time it is, you say you don't know but it's definitely not time to get up just yet... on it goes, both of you with your eyes closed and words coming out groggy and mumbled. You can almost sort of enjoy the soft tenderness of the moment, if you forget a lot of what went into this life you live.

The exchange draws quiet after a moment, and you begin to drift back off to sleep, slowly breathing in and out in time with the rising and falling of the chest pressed to your back. You're just about to slip into slumber once again when you feel the arm wrapped around you move, hand coming to rest on your hip and slowly trail down your thigh.

Hey, I want another baby....