#anyways I’m not doing alright and I think I’m gonna go sleep now

[callunascars]

.

[autism-disco]

fuck man my life would be much much easier right now if there was not an inspector calling, yet we stay jesting (AAAAAAAAAAA)

[thriftedtchotchkes]

body language

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel shows up at your place in the middle of the night with a camcorder and an idea

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, soft-dom!joel, soft!joel, sex tape, established relationship, smut, unprotected piv, size kink, praise kink, overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, mild camera anxiety, moodboard for aesthetics only

word count: 7.4k

“Joel? It’s two o’clock in the morning, you alright?”

He never calls this late. He’s never even up this late. Joel’s a creature of habit—asleep by midnight and up, bright and early, at seven. Yet, it’s still his name lighting up your phone and illuminating the pitch black of your bedroom, waking you out of a near-dead sleep. 

It takes him a moment to reply and, for a second, you think maybe he’s been out drinking with his contractor buddies. But that’s not like him, especially on a weeknight. 

When his voice finally filters through the speaker, he sounds…off. His deep drawl is lower than usual, thick with something syrupy and heady that you’d probably be able to place if you weren’t teetering on the cusp of consciousness.

“Be better if I was there with ya.”

Oh.

Now, you’re awake. The barely concealed intention in his tone and words is unmistakable, and now you know exactly why he’s calling you at two in the morning on a weeknight. Because he hasn’t seen you in weeks, and he’s horny. 

Heat licks at the base of your spine, and you get it. It's been a while since he’s been in your bed, and you're horny, too. You lean over to retrieve your phone from the nightstand, and your pilling flannel sheets slip down to your bare thighs, exposing your feverish skin to the brisk autumn air drifting in through a cracked window. It feels like the sweetest relief—you usually run hot when you sleep, but it’s nothing like this.

Switching the call off speaker, you unconsciously lean into the small screen as if it were him. A photo of Joel, soaked and covered in sand at the beach last year, flashes up at you and your lips brush against it as you murmur into the mic.

"If you wanted it bad enough, then you would be," you tease, your voice sultry and still heavy with sleep. You settle onto your back, kicking the sheets further down the bed so you can splay your fingers low on your stomach. They dip just slightly under the waistband of your underwear, closer to where you hope you'll need them soon. "So? Tell me how bad you want it."

You've never done the phone sex thing with Joel before, but if that's what he's looking for, then you're more than happy to play along. Every hushed sigh and bit-back groan, you want to hear it all. To let the gentle vibration of it in your ear reverberate through your body, feeding your arousal until it’s humming between your legs.

It’s been way too long. This might hold you over for now, but after tonight, you're going to need the real thing. Your boyfriend, close enough to touch, instead of a crackling, disembodied voice.

But, before you can even begin, your call is abruptly halted by a hard knock at the door. You shoot up, ripping your hand out of your underwear to rest over your racing heart. 

No one’s ever at your door at this hour, and the fact that someone is either spells trouble or a mistake. Part of you is relieved that you’re on the phone with Joel in case there’s actual danger out there, but another nagging part really wants to ignore the interruption. You’ve got better things to do. 

But you investigate, anyway. Better safe than sorry, right? Then, you can enjoy whatever Joel’s got planned for you to the fullest.

"Jesus, what...hold on, I think there’s someone outside," you whisper harshly into the phone as you slide out of bed, creeping as quietly as you can to the front door. "I'll be right back, I’m gonna go—“

To your surprise, Joel continues on anyway, undeterred by the commotion and the obvious alarm in your voice. But he sounds strange again, almost like he’s echoing. 

“Want it real bad."

You grip your phone tighter as you struggle to hear what he's saying, but you’re too distracted by the chaos unfolding around you to focus. He’s acting so out of character. Seriously, what the hell is going on? You have no idea why this night’s been so out of wack, but it's starting to get a little too weird for your liking.

“Uh, say that again?"

The call drops and you're left staring at your home screen, feeling confused as hell. That is, until you hear those same words in that familiar, deep drawl coming from the other side of the door. 

There's no way. 

You unlock it without bothering to look through the peephole, opening it to find a very disheveled Joel leaning against the doorframe. His face is already so close to yours like he’s been waiting for you to come to him, eagerly. Impatiently. 

The scent of his favorite spearmint gum fans over your face, and you subconsciously drag your tongue along your bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes follow the action, captivated by every minute movement you make, and you can tell how much just being in your presence is affecting him. The intensity in his gaze would make you feel nervous if it wasn’t for the obvious want simmering below the surface. 

God, why does all of this feel so potent? You’re panting...when did that even start? It’s suddenly hotter than the stifling warmth under your sheets, despite being half-naked in your open doorway, but it feels good. Right. Because he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

There’s no traces of beer or whiskey on his breath. So, he's completely sober, then. Whatever you were hearing in his voice, that wild look in his eyes, completely overtaken by his blown pupils—he’s not drunk on any of that. Only on thoughts of you. Your breath hitches when he speaks again, in person this time.

"Don't think I need to repeat myself, do I?"

Your eyes drop to the intimidating tent in his sweatpants before darting up to meet his.

"No, I believe you," you breathe out.

And, god, do you.

Adrenaline floods your veins as he lurches forward to kiss you, and, finally, you get to taste that dizzying combination of mint and Joel. The coolness of it on your tongue does little to quell the heat spreading from your lips down to where you need him most.

His hands immediately find purchase where yours were just moments before, sliding up your sides under your oversized sleep shirt—his shirt. He cups the soft skin of your breasts, and you moan wantonly into his mouth, suddenly desperate to be bare in front of him.

But he ignores the bunched-up fabric shielding you from his view. He actually seems pleased by the sight of it on your body and the scent of himself still lingering on your skin. You haven't washed it since he left it here, and you can tell it’s stoking something primal in him. Something he's left unchecked since the last time he was with you that threatens to consume him. Shit, you can hear it in his voice.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy lines marring his brow as if the thought of not being able to have you for so long physically pained him. “Been up all damn night…haven’t been able to think about anything else all goddamn night.”

He thumbs over a nipple while he tweaks the other, hard enough to startle a gasp out of you, and, oh, he likes that. The blunt outline of his hardening cock is insistent against your hip, but he holds himself back from grinding into you. Even as his body reacts without his permission, he’s still choosing to prioritize your pleasure first.

“You got no idea, the things m’gonna do to you tonight. Gonna treat you right, pretty girl, give ya everything you deserve.”

Your heart stutters, and you practically preen at his praise. This fucking man. You swallow his words greedily, pressing your lips into his hard enough to bruise, and the kiss descends into desperation and an unexpected need to hear more. You want more of those sweet, filthy words, to see what they really mean when he finally delivers on them. And all you have to do is ask.

“Then, give it to me.”

He parts from you with a lewd smack, a string of saliva hanging between you. You use the brief respite to take him in, your eyes roving over his tousled curls and the flush that’s quickly traveling down his neck and spreading across his chest. 

He’s so fucking beautiful, and…and why aren’t your hands on him right now? He’s been standing there for minutes, or hours, you can’t even tell anymore. Yet, when you reach out to touch him, he catches your hand in midair. His grip is gentle yet firm, the side of his mouth quirking down as he raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you’re being scolded.

"Oh, honey. I know you can ask nicer than that,” he mutters, lifting it to his lips and softly kissing your palm. 

There's a sense of authority in the way he says it, contradictory to the saccharine nature of his words. You're starting to realize you're not in control—that, tonight, what he says goes—but it feels safe. You know he'll take good care of you.

He gives your breast an encouraging squeeze as his other hand snakes further down to palm your ass, pulling your hips into his so you can feel all of him. This is what you'll get if you're a good girl, he's telling you. 

You bite back a whine, gazing up at him through your lashes, wetting your lips before you try again. His way.

"Please." 

Your voice quivers around the singular syllable that guarantees you’ll get what you need. 

“There's my sweet girl. Just need’ta be reminded sometimes, don’t ya?” 

He nods his head slowly, commandingly, while he asks the question, and you mimic him. You can feel yourself slipping, drowning in him and this feeling of security. You can’t help it, and you don’t want to.

He leans in to press his lips against yours again, devouring you in a way that feels less hungry and more exploratory, like he’s mapping you out. Filing away everything that makes your breath hitch and your eyelids flutter. He’s not immune to you, though. That much is obvious.

There's a growing wet patch on the front of his sweatpants, and you belatedly realize he didn’t bother putting on boxers before he left his house. He rubs damply against your stomach, just below your belly button, but he’s still not nearly close enough to where you need him. You don’t even know why his pants are still on. They really shouldn’t be.

Then, that same cool breeze and the delicate sound of crunchy, autumn leaves blowing along the sidewalk reminds you why. The front door is still wide open, leaving you standing in your underwear, and Joel with his hand up your shirt, in full view of anyone passing by. Not that they would at this time of night, but the thought is still a little thrilling. But not enough for Joel to leave it open any longer.

He pushes you further into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him, and leads you backward to your bedroom. God, you can’t wait to see him—his tanned, sun-weathered skin and sparse smattering of freckles. 

There’s too many layers between you and if your body isn’t pressed against his soon, you might actually lose your mind. You’ve never been this desperate for him before, but there’s something about the way he’s acting tonight. 

This unfamiliar headspace you’re in…fuck, it feels good. You’re trusting him to make up for those weeks apart and, even more so, to dictate your pleasure in ways that are totally new to your relationship. You’ll do what he tells you, you’ll moan for him, you’ll cum for him. He knows what’s best for you.

Your clothes come off first. Your shirt is pulled up and over your head, and then he bends to tug down your underwear, letting it drop soundlessly to the floor. Next go his shoes, then his socks, leaving a trail of fabric from the living room, all the way to your bed. 

It’s so sensual—surprisingly so—even though it’s something you do all the time. But tonight, he’s handling you with such rapt attention. His eyes never leave yours as each article of clothing falls to the plush, blue-patterned carpet beneath your feet.

You’re so naked. Compared to him, still clad in his jacket, t-shirt, and pants, you feel…exposed. Vulnerable. Maybe that’s the point. You approach him carefully, waiting for his permission to touch him, and he smiles softly.

“C’mere, baby. Could use a little help here,” he reassures you, reaching out to take your hand. But instead of letting you undress him, he guides it over the thick bulge in his sweatpants. 

His fingers close around yours and, together, you squeeze him. Your eyes shoot up to gauge his reaction, but other than a nearly inaudible sigh and pinched brows, he’s not showing any other signs of being affected at all. 

Craving more, you grind the palm of your hand into him, relishing the warmth of his cock as it pulses the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat in your grasp. He hisses out a breath, his hand tensing over yours, and a flash of pride lances through you. 

Yes. Gotcha.

But your satisfaction is short-lived. To your disappointment, he tugs your hand away, but he doesn't separate from you completely. Instead, he slides it up past the softness of his stomach to rest on his chest. It rumbles softly under your touch as he speaks, except, they’re not necessarily the words you want to hear.

“No more of that. S’about you right now,” he drops his forehead to yours, fixing you with a stern look. “Later, alright? When I’m fuckin’ ya, you can touch me as much as you want.”

Shit. You clench down hard, suddenly hyperaware of the wetness between your legs and the feeling of devastating emptiness. You want it now, but you still have no idea what his plans are. 

If you’re a brat about it, he’ll probably make you wait even longer, and, anyway, that’s not what you want to be tonight. You want to be good for him. 

His broad hands spread across your waist as he tilts his head to kiss your cheek, then the underside of your jaw. Without warning, he sucks hard, likely leaving a mark you’ll have to cover up tomorrow before work. You hope he leaves more.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble remorsefully, shivering in his arms as his thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into your skin. “I can wait—I…I’ll be better.”

“S’okay, baby, I know ya will,“ he replies, dragging his lips down to your shoulder. “Just keep goin’. You’re doin’ so good.”

Finally, you push his jacket off his shoulders and it joins the rest of your clothes, hitting the floor with a solid thunk. The noise startles you enough to clear some of that comfortable haze, and you slowly pull back, eyeing him curiously. 

That’s…way louder than it should’ve been. It’s his fall coat so it barely weighs a thing, even with his phone and wallet in his pockets. 

But he doesn’t seem surprised at all. His face is unreadable except for the hint of a smirk, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to talk anytime soon. 

You bend down to pick it up, your eyes still on his, and you were right. It’s heavier than it should be by a long shot, and you’re honestly a little taken aback that you didn’t notice it earlier. But, in all fairness, you weren’t noticing much of anything earlier, save for Joel’s hands and lips on your body.

Reaching into his pocket, your fingers brush against something clunky and metallic. It’s not his phone. There’s too many moving pieces, and it’s at least three times its size. 

When the mystery item is finally revealed, your jaw drops. Joel can be a pretty spontaneous guy when he wants to be, but this? You never saw this coming.

In your hand sits a goddamn camcorder. An honest-to-god video camera that was just sitting in his pocket with no discernible reason for being there. 

While you wait for him to explain, the gadget begins to feel heavier by the second, just the idea of it burning a hole right through your palm. But you know you don’t need him to. You’re not a child, and, in the back of your mind, you already know exactly why it’s there. This is the reason he came here.

That pretty, hazy brain fog halts briefly, just long enough for you to get some answers. You want to hear him say it.

“You said you’d give me everything I deserve, right? I think I deserve an explanation,” you say, forgoing the pleasantries he asked of you earlier. 

You’re fighting not to sound weak, to emulate his authoritative tone, but your heart is pounding and you already sound out of breath. Fucking hell, this man. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life, and he knew this would happen. 

Judging by the way his eyes darken and rove over your naked curves, he’s painfully aware of it. You watch dumbfounded as his patience runs out, and he discards his shirt and sweatpants. Now that his secret’s out, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, either.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, and your hands clench into fists at your sides to keep yourself from reaching out and touching him, but it feels impossible. It’s right there—his cock, leaking and flushed red at the tip from neglect. 

It jerks under your heated gaze, and he exhales sharply through his nose, wrapping his hand tightly around the base. He's clearly struggling as much as you are. Then, he moves closer, all but crowding you into the edge of the bed, and you can feel it pulsing against your bare skin. 

“Here’s the deal, pretty girl—you’re gonna cum s’many times as I want you to, and this here’s gonna record it all,” he drawls, holding out his hand for the camera. You acquiesce without any more questions. “Waited too damn long to see you like this and that ain’t happenin’ again.”

His other hand cups your cheek to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part around an almost imperceptible gasp. To anyone else but him, at least. 

“You gonna let me?”

You nod quickly, praying your eyes convey all of the want you’re feeling and none of the nerves. 

“Yeah,” you answer, breathlessly. “I’ll let you.”

But he sees right through you. The apprehension in your voice is too apparent, and he clocks it on the spot. His eyes instantly soften. He tugs you into his arms and holds you close, nosing into the hair just above your ear. Relieved, you sag into his familiar embrace. 

“If this ain’t okay with you, we stop right here. Alright? We don’t do anythin’ you're not a hundred percent sure you want,” and he sounds attentive and so earnest. 

His bare skin feels so warm against yours, and you allow it to remind you of everything he promised you. Of all of the things he’s about to do to you, for you, and the tape that’ll capture it all. For yours and Joel’s eyes only, whenever you need it. And you know you will eventually. 

Rubbing your cheek into his chest, you close your eyes and take a minute to let the calming beat of his heart make you feel less nervous. This is an entirely different kind of reminder, one that reassures you that you trust this man with everything you’ve got. You’re sure of your answer.

“I want this, Joel,” you murmur, slowly opening your eyes to meet his, commanding his full attention. “I promise you, I want this so fucking badly.”

That flips the switch. He swaps your positions in the blink of an eye, looping his arm around your middle to drag you up the bed until his back is against the headboard with you between his legs. 

“Don't need'ta be shy. You’re beautiful, baby, that’s all it’s gonna see,” he breathes out, his voice thick with affection and want.

He bends you both forward, his chest solid against your back, to set the camcorder onto the sheets, and tosses a few pillows behind it to prop it up. Something intimidating clicks just as Joel tilts the preview screen toward you. 

It’s on. Brightly lit and reflecting back a depraved mirror image of you and Joel, naked and panting and needy. 

Okay. Okay, here we go. Another click, and then a red light blips next to the lens. 

It’s recording. 

The light flashes steadily, and you can feel your body tensing with every strobe. Come on, loosen up. It’s just a piece of metal. A very…scary piece of metal that’s watching your every move. Your thighs tremble from a confusing mix of arousal and nerves, and you start to feel embarrassed. 

You can see yourself on the little screen, feeling small yet secure in Joel’s arms, but you’re too focused on the camera’s attention on you to relax. As if he can tell you’re about to shrink into yourself, Joel distracts you. You haven’t told him to stop or asked him to turn it off, and he knows you would if this became too much.

"See what I mean?" He smoothes his hands down your thighs, carefully parting your legs. He gives you every chance to close them, but you don’t. "Fuckin' perfect, just like I told ya."

You try harder to see what he sees, what you're praying the camera sees. He's so free with his compliments and praise, you want to believe you deserve them.

"Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he mutters tightly under his breath, his fingers massaging the tense muscles in your thighs. "From now on, m'gonna get to see this whenever I want. See myself fuckin' you whenever I can't."

Once you catch sight of your glistening heat reflected back at you, you help him spread your legs even further, watching as your cunt visibly clenches in response. 

Oh. Oh...look at you.

You get it now, why he wants this on film. You’re captivated by yourself, by the way Joel bites back a groan and his body seizes up as he fights not to rut into you. You’d love to be able to see that again. 

But then his fingers finally press deliciously into your clit and any lingering anxiety completely fades away. You barely even register his lips brushing against your ear, checking in before he continues with everything he’s about to put you through.

“Doin’ alright?” he murmurs between damp kisses against your neck. That tranquil haze begins to settle in again as he mouths wetly at your skin, the coarse drag of his beard a familiar comfort.

“Mhm,” you hum before your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and you slip completely. “S'good...feels good.”

“That's my girl,” he breathes tenderly, rewarding you with more pressure, pressing down harder on your clit.

The slick friction is heady and so effective that all you can do is give in as your hips swivel into his touch of their own accord. He's taking such good care of you, attuned to every gasp, the quickening rise and fall of your breasts.

You tilt your head to observe his expression. It's your only indication of what he’s feeling since he’s still refusing to allow himself to react to you physically.

He's breathtaking, looking like a man starved with his parted lips and pitch-black eyes, locked on where his fingers are slipping through the mess he’s making of your pussy. He must feel you watching him because he suddenly smirks, snaking a hand up your body to cup your breast. 

Your eyes squeeze shut and you mewl, pretty and perfect for the camera, your hips bucking clear off his lap when he begins to languidly massage the soft curve. You're getting so close already and your entire body quakes with it, your thighs trembling violently against his as he swirls tighter, faster circles into your swollen clit.

“Joel…ngh—Joel, I’m...fuck, m’gonna cum,” you whimper into his neck, grabbing his thighs to anchor yourself. "C-can I? Please."

“I know, baby, I can feel it. C’mon, give it to me,” he rasps, your demand from earlier falling raggedly from his lips. "Show the camera how hard ya cum for me."

Then, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and calloused middle finger, and you’re gone. Your orgasm crashes over you in a blissful wave, your stomach tensing intermittently with every gushing pulse of your cunt, and he doesn’t let up. Not until you’ve ridden his hand through your aftershocks, and slump into his chest, completely spent.

“That’s one, pretty girl.”

That’s…one? He’s counting them? You’re struggling to understand, to even focus on what he’s saying, but he doesn’t leave you wondering for long.

"You're gonna give me four, alright?” His fingers shift from your chest to your chin, tilting your head up to face him. The look in his eyes tells you to listen because he means this. “Want ya to cum on my fingers three times before you cum on my cock. Can ya do that for me?"

Christ. Your eyes dart from the attentive device, still recording every move and reaction you make, back to his. Can you? You’re not even sure if that’s possible, and your bottom lip trembles as you start to overthink it. 

You’ve never orgasmed that many times in a row, not with him or by yourself, and yet, he sounds so sure that you can. That he can make you. His thumb gently strokes your chin, and you believe him. You will.

"Yes, Joel," you find yourself nodding obediently, and you're thrilled at how pleased he looks. 

He leans down to kiss away your worries, swallowing your surprised squeal as his fingers waste no time starting up those insistent swirls on your clit again. Your hips jerk away from his hand, but he only smiles against your lips, his strong arms holding you in place.

It’s way too much, nearly overwhelming you, and you whimper into his mouth at the oversensitivity. Your floor muscles clench painfully as you continue to try and recover from your last one, but you don’t stop him. You give into him so easily, letting his adoration and sheer desire fuel you.

“That's it. You can take it, I know ya can,” he encourages, pulling away from your lips to gaze down at you in awe. "Look at my girl...so damn responsive tonight. Listenin' so well."

You can’t help the satisfaction blooming in your chest, gasping in relief as the sensitivity begins to subside into intense pleasure. His eyes drop between your legs as your hips start to chase his touch, and yours quickly follow.

“Shit,” he mutters, his voice tighter than it has been all night. “You get so fuckin’ wet when ya cum. Makin' the prettiest mess.”

His middle and ring fingers abruptly slip from rubbing merciless circles into your clit down to your entrance, plunging inside you, and god, it's exactly what you need. His fingertips drag against your sensitive walls, stroking something repeatedly that steals your breath away, and your pussy flutters around him. 

He mimics the soft sound but it trails off, dropping to something deeper that rumbles in his chest, and his slow, purposeful thrusts turn aggressive. His fingers hook inside you, and your eyes roll back, lips parting around desperate, choked-out words he'll watch back and probably cum to.

"...t-there, there. Please...don't stop—," you keen, your voice catching every time your hips buck to meet his hand. "—n-need more. Please, Joel, I...c-can you...?"

That gorgeous smirk returns, his face alight with pride. He's so proud of you.

“Beautiful and polite, Christ. Whatever you want,” his fingers don’t let up, and he looks mesmerized by how slick and easy he slides in and out. “Keep askin’ nice like that and I’ll give ya anything.”

Adding a third finger, he starts to fuck into you in earnest, ramming against something deep inside you as his palm slaps repeatedly against your clit. You see stars. Your vision begins to blur, and you’re positive you’re moaning louder than you should be this late at night, but you can’t focus on anything else but the wet squelching of your pussy around him. 

You should probably feel at least a little ashamed, but your warming cheeks have nothing to do with the noise and everything to do with the wrecked, stuttered moans in your ear, and Joel’s cock rutting into your ass in time with his fingers.

He's finally losing his composure. That careful self-restraint he's tried so hard to maintain, slowly but surely being dismantled. He clearly doesn’t care anymore, and he wants you to know it.

"Feel that? S'what ya do to me,” he grits through his teeth, his head dropping to your shoulder to watch as he smears precum messily across your skin. You unintentionally squeeze his fingers at his words, and he groans raggedly. "Fuckin'...tight—Christ, ya just keep gettin' tighter. Think m’gonna fit?"

You shake your head furiously, already feeling too full around his fingers, but your body betrays you, grinding down onto his cock before you can stop yourself. He exhales sharply at your reaction, bucking into you a little harder than he means to, and for a moment, you think maybe he likes the idea that he's too big for you. That your pussy's just too tight to take him right now.

That little red light still gleaming next to the ever-observant mechanical eye in front of you would probably love to witness that. A filthy, intimate image of you caught between intense pleasure and pain, forever preserved.

"No?” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “S'okay, baby, we'll make it fit. Don't'chu worry."

It hits you like a freight train, your second orgasm catching both of you by surprise and knocking the wind completely out of you. He wrenches his fingers out of your heat so he can wrap his arms tightly around you, keeping you from knocking over the camera as you writhe in his lap. It's overwhelming, somehow even more intense than the first, but the sensitivity sets in quicker.

Your nails dig sharply into his arms, and he hisses in a breath behind you. You're scared you might be hurting him, but you're having trouble controlling your limbs as immense amounts of dopamine flood your system, so you scrabble against the damp sheets instead.

Fuck, you can’t. It's too much. He’s still moving beneath you, the slide of his cock against your skin made easier by the slick dripping between your legs, and you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. You want to do this for him so badly, but you're not sure how much more you can take. 

One more. You can take one more. Then, he's yours.

Sensing your discomfort, he holds you through it, lets you ride it out until you’re whimpering softly in his arms. But all he offers is a brief, sweet moment of respite before his fingers return to your cunt. He mindfully avoids your clit as he slowly sinks two fingers back inside you, and, now, even you can feel how tight you are. Each one of his knuckles catches on your entrance and rubs you purposefully, if not a little painfully.

"How's that feel, baby? Talk to me.”

It aches. It’s so much. It’s not enough. The warring sensations between your legs intensify the deeper he plunges into you, but, this time, the sensitivity doesn’t ebb. Instead, it amplifies everything. You can feel him keenly, sweat and oppressive heat pooling everywhere your bodies connect, and you melt into it. Into him. 

"S'good...keep—," you accidentally clench around him, and your breath hitches at the dull throb that wracks your lower half, "—k-keep going. Want more.”

“Fuck. Such a good girl...so fuckin' good,” he breathes heavily behind you, grunting his pleasure into your shoulder every time your hips try to escape insistent strokes. It's not just the steady grind of his cock between your ass cheeks that’s getting him off. You can see the playful sparkle in his eyes on the screen, regardless of how small his image is. He's enjoying the chase. 

You think he could even cum like this, playing this dangerous game with you. It's then that you realize you like it, too. You both know how close you are to earning your reward, so agonizingly near, you can taste it. And he can feel you around his fingers, tensing and relaxing, beginning to adapt to the unbearable soreness as your orgasm quickly approaches.

"Almost there, baby. S'a lot, I know, but you're takin' it so well,” he groans encouragingly. You can hear the subtle anticipation in his voice. He’s a wreck behind you, all but fucking into your skin as he adds a third finger and increases his speed. You let out a pained moan together at the resistance. "Hurts, huh? Lemme make it better, pretty girl. Tell me what ya need."

“M-my clit, please…please,” you beg him. Politely, nicely, kindly, whatever he wants. It’s still swollen and rubbed raw despite how wet you’ve been all night, but, fuck, you need it. Just a gentle touch would be enough to send you over the edge. That’s all it’ll take.

And that’s exactly what he gives you. Three barely-there swirls with his thumb, and you’re screaming, cumming around him so hard, you’re almost worried you’ll break his fingers. Your spasming floor muscles are unforgiving, convulsing violently as you cream into the palm of his hand, but this time he doesn’t wait for it to subside. 

The internal pressure suddenly disappears and everything tilts on its axis. You’re being shifted, lifted higher by two strong arms encircling your waist, and something big—god, it feels huge—nudges at your abused hole. Joel’s speaking, but whatever he’s saying is too difficult to make out over the blood roaring in your ears. It sounds urgent. Impatient. He sounds needy.

He lowers you just a hair, and the stretch around his tip feels impossible. You were right. He's not going to fit, and the thought makes you want to cry. He has to. You need him to.

"...baby...baby," his voice finally cuts through the fog. He's shaking, trembling like a leaf all around you, but refusing to move until you can hear him. You realize he's been asking you a question, and he needs your answer now. "Need'ta be inside you. Christ, I—m'not gonna be gentle. I...can't, I can't anymore. Gonna fuck you hard, s'that okay? Can ya take me?"

He gives you a little more, a preview of what's to come before you make your decision, and it fucking hurts. It's also the most incredible thing you've ever felt. 

More. You said you wanted more, and you meant it. You nod frantically, whining your assent, but it's not enough. He needs you to say it.

"Need'ya to use your words, baby. Yes?"

"Yes," you choke out around a sob, wriggling in his arms to get him to move faster. He exhales sharply through his nose, the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat pulsing in his chest and cock.

"Yes."

It's the last warning you get before he drives into you in a single, earth-shattering thrust, burying himself to the hilt. It feels like he's splitting you in half, tearing you right down the middle, and replacing every part of you with Joel, Joel, Joel. 

And he doesn't stop there, or give either of you time to adjust. He pistons into you, a wet thock-thock-thock of drenched skin against skin, and you accept it gratefully. You're delirious with the feeling of him stretching you past your limit. So full, you're so fucking full of him. It's the only thing grounding you to the present, your unyielding walls fighting to mold around him.

After hours of giving, he finally takes. He's all but snarling into your ear like a starved apex predator feasting on his prey, biting and sucking and bruising every inch of skin he can reach. Yet, he's still so full of praise for his girl. 

"Look at us, baby. Y'see that?" he growls, just loud enough for the mic to pick up the wrecked reverence in his voice. He takes your hand and guides it down until both sets of fingers are wrapped around where he's breaching your swollen cunt. You cry out at the thickness of him, the unimaginable sight of you stretched around him, gripping him. "Takin' me so well. Knew you could. Goddamn perfect woman, s'like you were made for it."

You're starting to believe it. That you were shaped in his image, created just for him. You want to return his affection, even a fraction of the praise he's given you this entire night, but you're past the capacity for speech.

The tension in your chest is making it hard to breathe, and every attempted reply is forced from your body as an incoherent string of stuttered moans and broken sobs. Nearly every other thrust punches your cervix, and you can already feel that telltale heat flooding between your legs.

You can't tell him all of the things you want to. So, you show him, instead. Your entire body goes lax in his arms except your hips and hands, and you rock forward on every upstroke, caressing his inner thighs with your thumbs. 

His lips press against the underside of your jaw as he whines desperately into your skin, subtle groans rising in frequency and volume the longer you continue your ministrations. You can feel his stomach tensing behind you, and his grip tightens like he's either trying to stave off his release or anchor himself for when he inevitably erupts. He's so fucking close to the edge, now, you can tell.

He can, too. But he needs you to get there first. 

Your hips are already starting to buck into his, and he takes that as the go-ahead to give you more. A sign that your body can handle everything he has left. His arms unravel from around you, and he slows his pace to a deep, heady grind that sets your body ablaze. 

He snakes one hand up your stomach to cup a breast while the other drops to rub sloppy circles into your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out at the sudden onslaught of sensations. Your eyes dart to the camcorder as it builds and builds, in your chest, at the base of your spine, and against that spot deep inside you that has you fluttering around him. You promised one more, and you're ready to put on a show it'll never forget.

But that's the opposite of what Joel wants. He delivers a sharp slap to your clit to get your attention.

"Look at me, baby. Don't look at the camera," he grits out. You whine, turning your head to face him, your expression pleading with him to keep doing that. He acquiesces with a smirk, slapping it again, purposefully and repeatedly to punctuate his demands. 

"Ya look at me when you cum, alright?" 

Slap. 

"Nowhere." 

Slap. 

"Else." 

His hand collides with your cunt a little harder, and even he moans at the contact. 

Slap.

"Ya don't close your eyes, ya don't look away. Wanna see those pretty eyes when I fill you up."

He releases your breast to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger, holding you in place.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Cum for me."

Then, his assault really begins. He jerks into motion, his hips slamming into yours frantically, matching the sweet, torturous pace of his fingers' rough touch. 

Everything goes fuzzy. You feel its steady approach, a surprisingly gentle wave that trickles from where the head of his cock meets your depths, past every sensitive pressure point to where you're gushing onto his coarse curls. But, as it peaks, you barely feel anything at all. A beat of numbness that makes you believe maybe that was all you had left in you.

A moment later, there's euphoria. You're cumming so hard, your vision blacks out, and all you can sense is your bottom half locking down and Joel sobbing into your shoulder while he empties into you, just like he promised.

He fucks you through it, quiet whimpers and murmured praise flowing uncontrollably from his lips. He tells you how tight you are, how your pussy's choking his cock and milking him dry. How good you've been and how perfect you are. He says all of it just for you, but the camera hears it, too.

For a while, he thrusts into you lazily, savoring his sensitivity and sighing through your final aftershocks. Maybe it's punishment for everything he put you through. Or maybe he just likes the syrupy pain of it. Either way, his girth nestled inside you is comforting now that you're both loose-limbed and pleasantly sticky with each other's release. 

He lets out a disappointed grunt when he eventually softens and slips out, right around the time your vision returns and the brain fog starts to clear. The flashing red light at the foot of the bed catches your attention again, and you're struck with a sudden idea. One last thing you want him to have on tape. 

Sliding haphazardly off his lap, you position yourself on your hands and knees, the camera situated with the perfect view of your core. You peek behind you, shooting a sly smile at the lens before you part your folds, allowing a thick glob of cum to leak out of your swollen cunt and drip down to your clit. Before it can fall to the sheets below, you gather up the mess with your fingers and shove it right back inside you, where it belongs.

Joel groans heavily in response, and his body finally gives out, collapsing against the headboard. You can't help but laugh, exhausted and sated, close to collapsing, yourself. Crawling back on top of him, you wrap your limbs around his neck and waist, and crash your lips messily into his.

As he returns your kiss with sleepy enthusiasm, he tugs you down flush against his chest. His hands slide down your sides to teasingly squeeze your ass, and you pull away with a gasp, intent on teasing him right back, but the bright grin on his face gives you pause. 

Now that your head is clear and you're starting to recover, you remember everything that led to this. That, after too many agonizing weeks, you finally got to have him again, in the flesh and in ways you never have before or thought you ever could. And you'll get to relive it over and over, as many times as you need on those lonely nights when he's not there to take care of you.

"I'm glad you came over," you smile softly, unwinding an arm from around his shoulders to brush back his messy curls. "I really missed you."

His grin widens, and he melts into your touch. God, he's...baffling. A total enigma. You wonder how you'll ever reconcile this man with the one on film, but, then, his eyes soften and it becomes clear. Both men love you. Both are Joel.

"Missed you, too, baby. Y'got no idea how much," he says earnestly and with so much tenderness.

"I think I got the picture," you snort affectionately, leaning down to brush your lips against his.

You kiss him again, and your tangling bodies knock over the camera just as the dead battery indicator flashes twice on the screen, then cuts to black.

thanks for reading!

[ravcnism]

HEY uhm.. i've been having this idea.. like imagine kenji sato x m!reader athlete as well? help, i just thought the dynamic would be cute. it could be a rival team on the baseball league or another sports. I just thought it would be cool!

STRIKEOUT. — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: The Hiroshima Toyo Carp may have a new player in town, but his name is nowhere near unheard of. The prized star pitcher of The States takes the country by storm when he spontaneously shows up against the Yomiuri Giants. Ken Sato’s career is given a run for its money.

# # TAGS: Longform, Enemies to Lovers but like Still Enemies as Lovers, A LOT of Tension, Sports Anime-Level of Ridiculous, Star-Athlete!Male Reader, Author Doesn't Actually Know Anything About Baseball, Sort of a Slow Burn? No Beta We Die Like Onda

# # WARNINGS: Mild Violence, Mature Language, Eventual Smut if I’m Brave Enough, English is not My First Language, Around 2000 Words, Part One of ??

Night fell promptly upon the Sato residence. The sun had tucked itself into the sea and left a trail of gold in its warm, glistening wake. From afar, the ever-lively city of New Tokyo lit up street by street.

Beneath the water, in the basement, a newly-bathed Emi waddled towards her corner of the house; smelling of fresh sakura petals, and cuddling a half-crushed Nissan Skyline GT-R. Full from dinner, and satisfied by her shower, she felt the gentle arms of sleep coaxing her to a nap. With a squeaky yawn, and a stretch of her arm, she succumbed to its calls and laid on her spot on the ground. A very amused Hayao Sato came walking after her. “Silly girl. The bath and snack combo never fails to knock you out, huh?”

Kenji Sato, well-dressed for a night out, entered after. He was preoccupied by his sleeves, fingers fumbling to button them shut. “Remember, Dad. No videos after 10 pm. We can’t ruin her sleep schedule again.”

“Of course, Kenji.” His father waved him off with his cane. “You act as if I don’t know her routine like the back of my hand.”

“I’m just making sure.” He was fixing his hair, then, gelling it into place. His eyes narrowed at his own reflection, trying to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. “And of course you’ve got Mina to help.”

“Definitely, Ken.” As if on cue, the round hovering bot came floating in. “We have everything under control. You needn’t worry about us here.”

Professor Sato chuckled at his son, leaning on his good foot. “You seem to have a lot of nervous energy in you, Kenji.”

The batter sighed, tugging on his collar one last time. “I’m always nervous when I’m not playing.” Deciding he looked alright, Ken left his reflection alone. “No idea why. Might have something to do with my dislike towards things that I can’t control, but I’m not gonna get into that right now–” He shuffled about, searching frantically for his jacket. “Mina, where did I put my–?” An extended robot arm appeared from the floor and handed it to him. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Try to enjoy yourself anyway, Kenji.” Professor Sato had walked over to Emi, who was fast asleep, snoring slightly. He lifted a hand and rubbed her head. “I think it’s good that you go to these games even when you’re not scheduled. I can tell it lifts your team’s spirits.”

“Yeah, well, honestly I’m still trying to get used to it. The whole sportsmanship thing.” Ken sprayed his cologne on. He made a quick jog towards Emi and kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight, Sweetie.” He looked at his dad. With his motorcycle keys now in hand, he walked backwards to their glass elevator. “If anything happens, call me. You know the drill.”

“Yes, Ken,” replied Mina. “We do. Rest assured, there will not be a repeat of last time.”

“Right, right. Last time.” Kenji forced out a laugh. “Look, if she wakes up and I’m not home yet, try to get her to tire herself out. Load up a park. Throw some balls. But no flying outside, please? You know she gets carried away.”

“Understood.”

With a final glance, and a reluctant sigh, he stepped into the lift. “I’ll be back soon.” Leaving her 20-foot Kaiju-of-a-daughter never got any easier — no matter how many times he had gone and done it. He waved his family a quick goodbye, before disappearing from their line of sight.

His dad was right. It was good that he was going. The Giants had a game to win.

"Good evening sports fans! Ladies and gentlefolk, we welcome you to the highly anticipated matchup between the Hiroshima Toyo Carp and your Yomiuri Giants.”

The stadium was bright and buzzing with excitement. Ken was used to the energy, but he never grew tired of it. There was something almost magical about having this many people in a stadium together. Something electrifying about hearing their collective voices. Whether or not he was set to play, the crowd was what grounded him into focus. He adored their cheers, regardless of who it was directed to.

“We’ve got an intense start to the game so far, the home crowd doesn’t look too happy with Tateoka’s second strikeout.”

“How's it looking?” Ken appeared beside his teammate, Yuki, who was watching the game by the barriers.

“Bad. We're dying out there, Sato. Tateoka's our second batter. We're down one strikeout.”

Ken's brows knitted together, intrigued. He had gotten here a little late and missed a good chunk of the first inning. He had missed most of the commentary, too, so he was pretty much left in the dark. All he knew was that the home crowd didn't look too cheerful. And neither did Coach Shimura. ( Though technically, he couldn't remember a time when Shimura looked anything less than disappointed. ) Ken settled into his spot, nursing a canned soda.

The pitcher’s back was against him, his jersey name too far for him to read. He couldn't see who it was. Ken took notice of their form. Their figure. “Wait, who's throwing again?”

His teammate dropped a name so familiar it sent Ken choking on his drink.

“Fucking, who?” He dropped the name of a famous star-athlete. A name he saw on billboards, news reports, articles. A name so expensive it put his vintage cars to shame. A name with a strikeout rate so disgustingly high it had the best teams falling to their knees. A staggering 1.75 ERA. Almost zero walks. Your name, sent a shiver down Ken Sato’s spine. You, the Mets’ notorious Bullet, now a surprise player of the Toyo Carp.

He watched as you turned around. Your face came into view. You were frighteningly calm. The Giants’ batter was one strike away from an out. Kenji swallowed thickly. “When the hell did he get here?”

“Yeah. Apparently they traded him to Carp a week ago. Didn't get much buzz for some reason.” Yuki scoffed. “Think they covered it up? Element of surprise? It was a pretty big move.”

The fact that Kenji had never been put up against you before was sheer dumb luck. That's what he thought, anyway. Despite the fact that the both of you had been celebrities in The States, the seasons just never aligned well enough to get the both of you to play at the same park. But he hadn't dreamed of it. Who in their right mind would? Like a bullet from a gun, your pitches were unstoppable. You had a mutant-like control over the ball. There were studies on the physics of your technique. Even the best batters would miss your throws. And at that moment, as he watched his teammate strike himself out, Kenji wondered if he'd miss, too.

He wouldn't have to keep wondering. Understanding the weight of your presence, the Yomiuri Giants opted to bring in the calvary.

“Sato.” Ken flinched at Shimura’s voice. He looked over his shoulder, facing him. “Locker room. Get dressed — I'm calling you up.”

He laughed, nervously. “You sure that's legal, coach?” He wasn't scheduled to play today, and spontaneously entering a non-player into the field was only allowed upon certain circumstances. Like an injury, for example.

“Of course it is.” Shimura grumbled. “Tokuda just broke his arm.”

The mentioned Tokuda stood behind him, sipping on some soda, with his obviously not-broken arm. “You heard the man, Ken. I just broke my arm.”

Ken grimaced, heading for the door. “The press is going to love this…” Japan's finest batter, versus The States’ fastest pitcher. Oh, this would make the headlines for sure.

Kenji did as he was told. He walked into the locker room, then walked out in full-attire. The speakers crackled to life. There was a steady rise in the crowd’s demeanor. People were slowly piecing the situation together. The announcers were losing their minds. “And It looks like — oh my goodness, folks. I don't believe this. Ken Sato has been called up into the field!”

The stadium went alight. Ken walked into the park and wondered if the lights were a little brighter than usual. He was doing his stretches, rolling his shoulders. His bat was handed to him and he flipped it in his hand. He allowed the cheers to boost his energy, and perhaps a bit of his ego.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we might be witnessing baseball history tonight! Two of the opposing team’s star players have come face to face for the first time ever. And it's happening right here, right now.”

You met his eyes. Ken’s breath hitched. You were so… intense. He couldn't properly describe it. You watched him move into position like a lion stalking its prey.

“Will Sato stop the Toyo Carp’s brand new Bullet? Or will he walk out of this game bleeding?”

The trick was to look them in the eye. A pitcher was no different from a batter when it came to a game. They shared the same weight of responsibility. The only time a stadium is silent is when they're standing face to face. Like a duel. One of Ken’s techniques was staring them down and reminding them that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was Ken Sato, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately for him, you were unshaken. Which he would’ve been offended by, if he were younger and more immature. No matter, he had other things to look for. Like the cues. Each pitcher had their own cue; a sort of tell that told Ken what kind of throw they’d be going for. He didn’t hit those pitches out of pure luck. Contrary to popular belief, he was actually thinking these games through. There were a plethora of things to look at. A pitcher’s stance, their position, which hand they were using. In an easier game, Ken would be able to read these pitchers like an open book.

But if you were a book, then you would've been written in a different language. He could find no such cues. He didn’t really have anything to calculate. You were as unpredictable as you were quick. None of his usual techniques seemed to be working on you.

The last resort: keep your eye on the damn ball, and freakin’ swing.

You held your hand outward, fingers pointed at him. There was a kind of hunger in your eyes, an expression that made Ken’s heart skip a beat. Your focused glare made him feel as if a red dot had appeared on his forehead. Like you had marked him for prey. It felt… personal. Like it wasn’t a part of the game, and you were only pointing at him. A threat. A dare.

You pulled your pitching arm back. He swore he heard a gun cock. The stadium went quiet. The crowd held its breath. So did Ken. He tightened his grip on his bat. He waited, eagerly, for you to make your move. He was counting the milliseconds, watching you, anticipating your throw, waiting for you to shoot.

And you did.

Ken blinked, and the ball was gone from your hands. He released the breath he was holding through a disbelieved scoff. He turned, and the catcher had stumbled slightly, holding your ball. The crowd grew into disarray, a rising cacophony of cheers and boos. They just couldn’t believe it. Ken Sato not only missed your pitch, but wasn’t able to move at all. He couldn’t even swing. You were too fast. Too abrupt.The ball was a white blur, there a moment, then gone the next. It wasn’t an issue of the curve, nor the direction. It was just too fucking fast.

His teammates couldn’t believe their eyes. And neither did his coach. Ken craned his head to look at you. You stared back at him, stone-faced.

He took a breath to regain his composure, resuming his earlier stance. He would never admit it, but he was rattled. He was trying to understand how that throw was humanly possible. How he had somehow forgotten to move. He could do nothing more but stand haunted as he heard the resounding “strike one!” from the umpire. This wasn’t the first time he’d missed, but it was the first time he froze. It was a spectacle to all, and a moment of horror for his fans. Did the Unstoppable Ken Sato finally meet his match? Even if he did, he was determined not to lose a second time.

“Okay,” he whispered. He took a deep, focused breath, slightly shifting his stance. He kept his feet firm on the ground, bat at the ready. “Okay, Hotshot. Bring it on.”

You kept your eyes on him and him alone. You stared at him as if you were the only two people in the stadium. The crowd went silent once again. The Giants fans were desperate to give Sato the focus he so-terribly needed, but the Carp fans were just curious to see how the second pitch would go. The air was thick and heavy with tension.

Like before, you threw your hand out, fingers pointed at Ken. You drew your pitching arm back, like an archer, and there was that sound in his mind again. The cock of a gun. Ken waited. He counted you down. He was a hunter dressed in camo, waiting for a deer to move.

Then, for the first time since he’d seen you, your expression changed. You grinned at him.

Then you winked.

Shit.

You threw the ball. Ken swung.

But he missed.

The crowd erupted into chaos. There was an indistinguishable pandemonium of disdain and celebration. People screamed and jumped and waved their banners as high as they possibly could. A number of them had already entered a state of acceptance — the Giants would lose to a perfect game. No batter would ever get through the wall that was you. But a lot of them kept their faith in the ever-notorious Sato. He could hit the last shot. He could pull this off. He might have been struggling to match your speed, but he would figure it out. They believed in him like he was a god.

And at that moment, as Kenji heard the echoing “strike two!” he certainly felt the anger of one.

Did you just fucking wink? Did you seriously have the audacity to wink at him? Kenji took it personally. Who did you think you were? Though his lips spoke nothing of the foul words he wished so eagerly to shout, it was clear on his face that he wanted you gone. It was one thing to embarrass him with a fastball, but another to rub it in. He wouldn’t let that slide. He wouldn’t allow you to strike him out.

Yoshimura was gripping the barrier so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.“Eyes up, Sato!”

Kenji breathed. Through his nose, this time. He drew a long breath into his entire body and blew it out through his lips. He wouldn’t miss. He couldn’t miss. While he might have already taught himself the humility that came with losing, he hadn’t taught himself jackshit about losing to you.

“If looks could kill,” whispered Ami Wakita, the reporter who watched the game from the press booth. Typing into her laptop, she wrote: “There seems to be obvious tension on the field. Nothing new for Ken Sato, yet, significantly different. Japan’s star player has finally met his match. This game has been a long time coming.”

This was his last chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Kenji raised his bat, and narrowed his eyes. You weren’t blind to his added efforts, and smirked at him again. Oh, how it made his blood boil.

Point.

Pull.

Throw.

Swing.

This time, the ball made contact.

The crowd blew up once more, exhausting their lungs as they watched the ball fly across the field. Kenji had hit it. Kenji had managed to catch your bullet-of-a-pitch. He dropped his bat to the ground and ran for his life. Base to base, corner to corner. Kenji leapt across the field and jumped for home.

“Safe!”

The crowd went wild. He had heard stadiums cheer for him before, but he didn't think he had ever heard anything this loud. With a relieved laugh, Kenji got up from the ground, and finally caught his breath. His teammates ran to greet him, though they had only passed the first inning. With a round as intense as that one, they felt it was only right to celebrate a little early.

And then he looked at you. Your eyes met. You were smiling at him again. He didn't like the lack of concern on your face. He didn't like that you didn't seem challenged. And he especially didn't like the fact that he was out there playing for his life, while you seemed to have played for a weekend game at the park.

Kenji was glaring at you, as if he was burning holes into your head. You lifted a hand and threw him a casual salute, flicking two fingers towards his direction. Dammit, he thought. That wink really threw him off. Which it shouldn't have.

Unfortunately for him, the game was nowhere near the last time you'd interact.

And there'd be the after-party to boot.

[princessbrunette]

imagine rafe not being able to spend the night and your house bc he has like early business to do and you’re just so whiny begging him not to leave like clinging to his leg and he’s like “jesus christ i’ll be back tmr 😒” but at the same time he’s like 😊 bc it’s nice to feel needed

─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──

you were clingy and you knew it. instead of pretending like you weren’t, you learnt to fully embrace it. no matter how much rafe tried to act like he didn’t, you knew he loved it deep down. it made him feel wanted, something not many other people in his life offered him.

he pats his keys in his back pocket as he slowly makes his way to your front door, lips parted as he thinks over everything he had on his person when he arrived, making sure to leave none of it behind. it was bad today, you really needed him. after the day you had, you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and just… better. you cry, pathetic and hiccupy as you keep a clasp on his hand and he lets you hold it all the way to the door before pulling himself out of your grasp.

“okay, hey— can’t keep cryin’ like this baby you knew i wasn’t stayin’ over tonight because i told you. gave you time to… emotionally prepare n’shit. i got business to do early tomorrow, remember?” he raises his eyebrows, trying to reason with you. his voice is stern but he’s mopping up your tears with his thumb anyway.

“i know but i had a bad day, i just want you to sleep here!” you sob, clutching over his wrists as his hands clean you up and he shakes his head, gently removing them.

“look i’m — i’m sorry, alright? you know i wanna stay here, more than anything. but i’m a man now, yeah? i’m in charge of handlin’ business n’i got people relying on me. sometimes you— you have to make the hard choice, and this is one of those times.” he lectures you, so you do what any reasonable human being would do, and lower yourself to the ground, wrapping yourself around his leg.

“you’re not going.” you swipe your tear on his pants and he sighs in exasperation, trying to wiggle you off to no avail.

“jesus fuckin’ christ, are you kidding? get up, hey—” he tries to walk, but you cling him tighter, coming with him and he stops again. “let go and listen to me. m’gonna count to three, don’t let me get there.” he lifts up a finger and you unlatch yourself, staying on the ground in a ball. rate lowers himself into a squat, expression stern and yet yielding. “alright. you’re gonna calm down, yeah? i will sit with you until you fall asleep, and it better be within the hour or i’m just gonna leave. get up, c’mon. go brush your teeth.” he stands, giving you a little nudge with his foot and you hop up, happy enough with the outcome of him staying a little longer and run upstairs, not waiting for him to follow.

he huffs out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “little shit.” he whispers, following you. once you’re all in bed, ready — he comes and sits beside you, mopping up the last remaining tears that stain your face with the backs of his knuckles. “okay. i’m here. now go to sleep.”

“kiss, rafe.” you pucker your lips and he indulges you, bringing you a nice long one to satisfy you before pulling back.

“close your eyes.” he sighs tiredly and you do so, but not before switching off your lamp. he places a hand on your back over your pyjama shirt, rubbing slow circles as if tries to silently coax you to sleep faster so he can get going, smiling secretly to himself at your shenanigans.

he won’t admit it, but he did feel really sad to go, and even considered staying— but he knew he had to make the responsible choice, so with one final look, he left you in your bedroom fast asleep.

─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──

[kiss-inthekitchen]

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

Tonight, however, is not a usual night.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 

And then you give up. 

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t sleep?” 

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re not wrong.” 

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 

“What did you call me for then?” 

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 

“Now you tell me.” 

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?” 

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

[scudslut]

too sweet

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni

a/n: okay, is this like the song? IDK i listened to it on repeat tryna decipher shit and come up with a good plot but i think i got a little lost in the sauce, or maybe im just being mean to myself🫢 ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON BYEEE🤍

you two never got along, never saw eye to eye.

years you’d known each other and all it ever did was reveal those differences all the more. highlighting them in bold letters for you to gaze at thoughtfully, but did that stop you?

it was a game you played, back and forth for so long that it became a routine. bicker and disagree till you were blue in the face and at each other's mercy for only the moon to bear witness too.

how many times had you dug into him for his habits. he smoked, kept to himself, he fought, but where had that ever gotten him? it was against your nature. a way of being that you genuinely could not understand.

and he’d be right there with you, matching each dig with his own. you were sweet, too soft. you pleased and walked among ice like you weighed as much as a feather, so predictable it was almost humorous. if you didn’t understand him, he was absolutely riddled by you.

“how do ya sleep at night? huh? don’ya ever get tired of keeping everyone so fuckin happy?” he’d mutter, all the while tearing articles of clothing off of your supple skin, one by one. skin that was pristine by default and worn as if only heaven itself had touched it.

“believe it or not, i actually want people to like me daryl. i like when i can make people happy. it’s not a fucking act,” you sneer back.

who was he to talk? he lived inside his own head. could go days… no, months by himself, not muttering a single word to a breathing soul. and you’d tried to reason, guide, and help, but if anyone knew daryl dixon, they knew he didn’t budge easily. he had to want it for himself and he simply didn’t see the glory in your people-pleasing nature, as he’d like to call it.

sure he saw the value in it, somewhat. but he liked things the way they were, as they were meant to be. if he disagreed with something he sure as shit wasn’t gonna prance around trying not to hurt no feelings.

“alright, you keep tellin’ yerself that, princess.”

so what was it that kept you two coming back for more? why was the tension and aversion between your minds so magnetic between your bodies? he wanted to snap those annoying, pretty lips shut with his. maybe if he kissed you hard enough something would click in that head of yours. maybe he could fuck some clarity into you.

his fingers would rub fast circles over your clit, watching you keen and moan into the pillow beneath you, “how’s that princess? good enough for ya? hm?” he’d mock, “faster? slower?”

“god, would you shut up already?” you tried to sneer only for it to come out as a breathy whine, adding fuel to his pride and smirk across his face. your lips crashed into his in an attempt to diminish it but it was right there, now pressed up against your face, and fuck, why was that so hot? why was his rugged stubble, his long hair kissing your shoulders, and his broad, strong body so infuriatingly sexy to you? muscles built from years of fights, kills, and hunting. you didn’t like it… but you did.

“fuck, i’m gonna-“ you cried to him softy.

“nuh, uh. not yet pretty girl.”

his belt was loud throughout the quiet room. your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure but you heard the familiar clanks and zips, and then you felt his weight above you — warm and spicy. it pulled you so far and close that you sucked him in before he even got his pants all the way off.

“fuckin’ christ girl,” he groaned, snapping down to meet your hips flush. it was rapid and hot, both of you pouring all your frustrations into each push and pull. frustrations with each other, frustrations with yourselves that you liked this so fucking much.

he fucked you deep and hard like his body hated you, but somehow kissed you so tenderly through it all. his tongue massaging and tangling with yours as if you created his oxygen for him.

“so fucking sweet, princess, y’know that?” he whispered against you, “no good fer me.”

he was telling himself that; convincing himself and you knew it. your body rolled to meet his quickly, feeling every gooey, warm muscle against your skin and drooling over it, “more.”

as if to prove a point he slowed down, pulling out till just his tip was caught at your entrance, and then would thrust in, hard. over, and over, and over until you were singing his name and muffling it with his neck. warm and spicy.

“ya like that? thought ya wanted faster?”

he knew he was walking a line, but what had you guys ever been but a definitive line? a clear distinction of night and day, the only time ever seeing eye to eye being these moments. as one.

you were sent over the edge instantly, spasms of pleasure rolling languidly through your body. the tight swelling of your cunt causing daryl to finish with you and fuck if he didn’t cum the prettiest, sexiest way you had ever seen. straight out of your dirty, teenage fantasies and above you to soak in while you wreathed along with him.

he groaned and cursed into your chest, riding out each wave until he was shaking above you and so sensitive he couldn’t help but hiss as he pulled away, flopping down beside you.

a cigarette was quickly fished from his strewn jeans pockets and placed between his lips, lighting up and rolling back into the pillows lazily. every ounce of mending and merging you had just done was palpably tossed out the window, your scoff loudly filling the silence.

“that will kill you one day, hope you know that,” you muttered whilst gathering your clothes and slipping them on.

he didn’t bat an eye, nothing he hadn’t heard before from you and honestly, he didn’t really care. plenty of things in the world that’ll kill you, your naivety being one of them.

“lemme guess, gotta be up bright n’ early? tendin’ ta all yer charity cases?” he mused as he watched you head for the door. there had never been a night you’d spent together, probably would end up ripping each others faces off alone in room together for that long.

he didn’t get an answer, just an amused eye roll as you opened his bedroom door, “bye daryl.”

and then you were gone, quiet stomps heard as you floated up the stairs and he knew it would only be a matter of days before you were right back here, glued to his body and singing his name like you needed him to survive.

“figures,” he mumbled, taking a long drag from his smoke and smirking softly to himself.

what’s that saying? opposites always attract?

[miniwheat77]

Heartbeat. (Mean!Captain Price x Reader.)

!smut, captain price being a meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, non con , proceed with caution, you’ve been warned!

You roll your eyes as you sit down at the table in the mess hall, finally able to eat dinner.

Two hours after dinner was held.

Soap sits down next to you, looking at you in sympathy. “You must’ve done something to get on his bad side in the beginning.” He laughs. You mutter under your breath. “I’ve literally done everything under the sun for him. Pretty much the only thing I haven’t done is drop to my knees and suck him off at this point. Don’t know what the hell else I can do to prove myself.” You grumble. Eating your cold dinner. Soap laughs. “He’s not normally like that. I don’t know what it is about you lass but it’s just rubs him the wrong way.” He laughs. You sigh. “Yeah. My burning arms from the hundred push ups would agree.” You groan. Soap laughs.

“He’ll get over it eventually.”

“He better, or I’m gonna ask for a transfer.” You groan. “Don’t blame you. I’ve never seen him act like that before.” He laughs, standing up. “You’ll be alright. He’ll figure it out. Who knows, maybe he’s got a crush and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. I am quite the catch.” You smirk. Making Soap roll his eyes.

“Don’t go getting a big head.” You shove him with your foot as he starts to walk away. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night MacTavish!”

He disappears out of the mess hall, and you’re left completely alone.

A sigh leaves your lips. “Y/N, my office. Now.” You hear your Captains voice come through your radio. Making you groan. You stand up, throwing away your cold dinner. It wasn’t good anyways. Not even a microwave would save it. You brush yourself off making your way down the hallways to his office. You turn the corner, feet patting against the tiled floor. You walk up to his office. Taking a deep breath before you knock. “Come in!” He calls. You open the door up, stepping inside. You know better than to just walk in. “You called for me?”

“Yeah, you’re covering watch for Gaz.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Is he alright?” You ask. His eyes flash up to your face, it’s a warning.

You back off of the subject, you’ll just ask Gaz for yourself. “Anything else Captain?” You ask. He says nothing. You turn away, walking out the door. You’re irritated. You made your way for the watch tower. He always made you cover for everyone. You’re lucky if you ever get any sleep anymore.

This continues on for weeks. He takes his anger out on you. He’s not nice to you. It’s gotten so bad that the other members of the task force have had to step between the two of you. It’s the only time he’ll ever back off. It’s a particularly bad night. You’ve just gotten off of your watch and you’re exhausted. He calls you to his office to cover the watch immediately after yours. You explain that you’ve already covered two watches and you’re tired, which he doesn’t like.

“My office Y/N.”

You groan, passing by Soap as you make your way for his office. “Good luck.”

“Gonna fucking need it.” You groan. You open up the door and step right inside, seeing his eyes narrow at you. If he’s going to be a dick you might as well have some fun with it. He says nothing. Instead of asking him your usual questions you just throw yourself into the chair in front of his desk. “You needed me?”

You swallow hard as he looks at you, he’s getting mad.

“I asked you to cover a watch.”

You lean back, throwing your leg up over another. “Yeah, and this is me saying no.”

He stiffens up. “Excuse me?” He asks. Your heartbeat picks up. It’s starting to thump in your chest. “I said no. I’ve already covered for Gaz again and I did my own watch. I haven’t slept more than 5 hours a night being on this base with you, you know?” You smirk. He narrows his eyes. “I don’t think you’re going to like what happens when you disobey me.” He leans back in his chair. Crossing his arms.

“Ah, I already don’t like what happens when you’re normal, so let’s play this game.” You smirk. He’s fuming. “100 push ups.” He nods. “No.”

“200”

“You can keep adding but I’m not going to do them.” You cross your own arms. He stands up, walking around his desk and leaning up against it. “What exactly are you trying to achieve by disobeying me? Hm?” He breathes. “Oh, nothing. I’m just sick of you working me like a dog.” You look up at him. He rolls his eyes. “Y/N. Quit being a brat and go take your watch.”

“No.”

He’s fuming.

“Y/N.”

“I’ll go cover it when you make me.” You look up at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I said make me.” He’s clearly stumped by your reaction. “I’ll have you taken off my base faster than you can say-“

“So go ahead.” You cut him off. His ear lobes start to blush, he’s furious. “But you’re not going to. Are you?” You stand up, moving closer to him. He towers over you but you’re still cornering him.

“I’m not sure what it is I’ve done to you. But I’m done being treated like shit.” You move closer to him. “So unless you’re going to make me, I’m going to go to bed.” You grin.

You can’t help but notice his jeans, and how they’ve gotten tighter since you’ve been biting back. “Does it… do something for you? Hm?” You smirk. “Do you like pushing me around?” You cross your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He growls. You reach your hand out to grope him and he grasps it, stopping you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He growls. “Who said I couldn’t finish it?” You step even closer. “Y/N..” his voice is full of warning.

“Do you think you deserve it?” You breathe. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t exactly been kind to me, I don’t think you’ve earned it.” He laughs. Taking in a deep breathe. “You’re a funny girl, you know that?”

He stays completely still and in just a second he’s got you bent over his desk, a handful of your hair in his hands. His cock pressed right up against your ass. You don’t even have time to gasp before he’s got you against it. “Amusing you think I won’t just take what I want.” His voice is deep, his breath warm over your ear as he mutters it. He lifts his radio from his vest. “Soap, do you mind taking over watch? Y/N is going to be unavailable for the next couple hours.”

“No problem. Take it easy on the poor girl, old man. She’s don’t enough push ups for the entire task force.” Soap’s voice comes across the both of your radios.

He chuckles, forcing you back by your hair. “Deep breaths.” He reaches down, you can hear him fumbling with his belt. “Nobody will save you this time.” He reaches around your front, unbuttoning your jeans and forcing them down your legs. He tugs them until they’re completely off, pushing himself up against your bare ass. You can feel him. Skin on skin. Nothing holding you back. You’re wondering how it’s progressed this far. “You don’t deserve it.” You grit your teeth. “Been nothing but a complete ass to me since I started on your base.” You roll your eyes. He snorts, “yeah, feel free to stop me.” He rolls his eyes. Spitting on his cock and lining up with your entrance. “Nothing? Hm?” He breathes. “Right, you’re a pathetic slut and me being mean to you got this little pussy wet. That’s why you’re here-“ he pauses, thrusting himself into you. You gasp out, all of the air leaving your lungs as he forces his big cock into you. “On my cock.” He finishes his sentence.

You moan out, clutching onto his desk. You’re holding on for dear life as he starts his bruising pace. Hips slamming against yours, the wooden desk digging into your hips. “Oh god.” You whine. He tugs your hair back, forcing you back. He kisses you hard, feeling you melting into him further. How willing you are to take him is something he didn’t expect.

John isn’t a relationship kind of guy. He’s in the military, nothing ever goes his way. He avoids women at all costs.

The moment you showed up he knew he needed to stay away from you. He knew he couldn’t help himself if he got his hands on you. He saw how easy it was for others to get along with you and it didn’t help with how damn pretty you were and how sweet you were to top it off. He was fucked from the beginning. He knew it.

So now, with his cock buried deep inside you. He didn’t know what the hell to do. He didn’t think it would be this easy, that you would just let him. But you did.

The tiny whines that leave your lips, they egg him on. You’re a lot less vocal than he thought you’d be. Whining and whimpering. Like you didn’t know how to react or what to do.

All you could do is just take it, because he wasn’t going to stop.

Your knuckles turn white, hips lurching forward with every hard thrust he takes. He’s brushing up against parts of your body that had never been touched before. You couldn’t help but fall apart beneath him. At his complete mercy. The tough act you had put up to get here is long gone, all that’s left is the mess he’d made of you. “Captain-“

“Call me John.” He tugs your hair back, hand clapping against your ass. You cry out. “John- you don’t have a condom on.” You hiss. He spanks your ass again, not slowing his thrusts for a second. “No, I don’t. And I don’t need one. You’re a good cock sleeve, you can take it.” He breathes. His teeth gritted as he says it. “What? No!” You try to more your hips forward, trying to get away from him but he wraps his arms around your waist. “Oh baby, no. No no.” He laughs. Thrusting into you still as he forces you against his large muscled body. He makes you feel and look small and pathetic next to him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy. M’gonna fill your slutty pussy and you’re gonna love every single second of it.” He grins. “But- but what if-“

“What if what? What if I knock you up? Get you pregnant?” He laughs. “I guess you should’ve thought about that before you threw yourself at me.” He growls, biting down on your neck. Another mewl leaves his lips. “Please don’t-“

“Fuck- oh fuck I’m gonna cum.” He pants. “No- John please!”

He forces you back over the desk, holding your hips steady. You can’t help it as he pushes you over the edge, a sob leaving your lips as you cum around his cock. Pussy clamping down around him. He can feel it.

“You say you don’t want it but your pussy says otherwise baby.” He holds you hands behind your back, keeping you from fighting him as he fucks into you. “Sweet pussy is milking my cock- fuck.” He hisses. He’s right on the edge. Just a couple more thrusts and he’s groaning out. “Shit- oh fuck yes-“ he hisses. Your eyes widen when you feel it. His warmth filling up, your mouth falls open as he keeps going.

He leans over onto you. Lips right by your ear. “You’ll obey me, next time. Because we haven’t even started yet.” He brushes a hand over your hair. Flattening out what’s still sticking up from him pulling it. “M’gonna fuck my cum deeper into you, and your punishment will be how fucking scared you are when your cycle doesn’t come.” He chuckles. He keeps rocking his hips into you, despite how sensitive his cock is. His own filth seeps out of you, back out around his cock. He can feel it dripping between his thighs and yours. “This is going to be the longest month of your life, sweet girl. So be a good girl. Because when you’re not.” He tsks’

“You know exactly what’s going to happen.” He smiles.

As you lie there, still over his desk. Heartbeat thumping un your chest. Sore. Your legs wobbly. Quite possibly the best sex of your life. You’re already wondering.

What else you can do to get yourself back here, bent over his desk.

[the0doreslover]

constellations of the heart | theo nott x fem!reader

Theo hadn’t been able to sleep two things being on his mind, one being the new ink that had been forced onto his arm and two, of course, being you. Over the holidays theo felt as if the only reason he would go back to school was because of you. Now here he was laying down on his bed staring at the picture of you on his bed side table to distract himself from the harsh reality of what he had become.

It started in third year when puberty began and those teenage urges right along with it.

Cedric diggory, everyone had a crush on him so no surprise you were mildly majorly infatuated with him as well. You knew you were done when you found yourself giggling and twirling your hair at something he had said, but when you found yourself following him wherever he went and knowing everything about him, the limit was crossed. You had enough self respect for yourself

if you were going to be obsessed with someone it was going to be a someone who was your boyfriend.

Last trip to hogsmede, you were determined to ask cedric to go with you, you had been practising all morning and though you would never admit it, you had written a love confession.

You were in the abandoned bathrooms upstairs talking to myrtle about cedric (nothing new on her part)

“so if i read him my speech do you think he will say yes”

“i have hope” she says slowly

“not a chance ”

you both looked towards where the voice came, you more embarrassed someone had heard your love confession.

a brunette haired boy came into your vision before walking past you and washing his hands.

“excuse me?” you asked.

“you read him that… and he will sure say yes… to any other girl.

You were in shock literally in shock

“no he looked at me three times today, three is my favourite number it’s a sign” you grinned

“being delusional is a hobby is it?” he laughed before propping himself up onto the sink

“well what do you suggest i do?”

“give me your love confession”

once you made no intention to move he asked again “mate give me your love confession”

you handed it to him and watched him skim over it before laughing.

“okay now give it back”

this time it was him who made no intent to move

you walked towards him and tried reaching for it as he pulled it higher and higher out of your grip

“give me my love confess- speech!” you said again

“okay” he shrugged watching you back down “incendio” he quickly handed it back to you and watched as your features went from annoyed to livid. “sorry my bad i meant to say here you go”

“you burnt my speech!”

“love confession” he corrected you

“speech”

“alright we will go with that, yes i burnt your speech on accident”

“let’s not lie now” you scoffed

“you two are cute, waaaaay cuter than you and cedric” mytrle said from the stalls with her hands under her chin.

“what?” you cleared your throat “i’m gonna go write another love con- SPEECH! i’m going to write another speech”

theodore watched with a smile on his face as you scurried out of there muttering to yourself about how ‘rude and horrible someone can be’

the next day theodore was strolling the halls when he came across a weird sound coming from the bathrooms. He cracked the door open just enough to see you aggressively washing your tear struck face.

“you sound weird when you cry”

you jumped at the sound of his voice and quickly composed yourself

“i don’t want to talk to you”

“why not? i’m great” he laughed

“you’re gonna make me laugh… and i don’t want to laugh right now” you sulked

“okay then, let’s talk about death”

“nott!” you groaned wiping your face.

“why are you crying” he asked

“none of your-”

he interrupted you

“cedric?”

you looked away from him.

a second later he joined you

“he didn’t deserve your love confession anyway”

present

theodore sat up, from his bed pulling himself from the memory of your meeting, he looked to his clock

04:00am

he sighed and pushed his covers off of him. he slipped his shoes on and began walking

you were at the astronomy tower, then again you always were and he knew that.

you were standing next to the railing when you heard someone clear their throat behind you

“theo!” you exclaimed after turning to see where the noise had come from pulling him into a hug you started rambling about how much you had missed him.

he stared at your face the entire time with a smile plastered on his lips

“are you okay?” you asked the boy

he can tell you how he feels now… or he can let you be happy without him ruining you

“im okay” he smiled fondly at you “you look lovely”

“in my pyjamas? you’re funny” you laughed and you both settled into a comfortable silence

He glanced at you, bathed in the soft moonlight, and couldn't help but smile.

"Theo, what are you thinking about?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He chuckled softly, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Just thinking about how everything seems different when you're here."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, a playful glint in your eyes. "Is that so?"

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars above. "Yeah, it's like the universe decided to put on a show just for us."

You chuckled, leaning against the railing. "Well, I can't argue with that."

Theo took a deep breath, his heart racing. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for. "You know, there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Your attention shifted fully to him, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What is it?"

He met your gaze, his eyes sincere. "I've been carrying this feeling for a while now, and I can't hold it back any longer."

Your smile faded slightly as you sensed the gravity of his words. "Theo, what's going on?"

He took a step closer, his voice soft yet unwavering. "I love you, More than I ever thought possible."

Silence hung in the air for a moment, your eyes widening in surprise. "Theo, I..."

He held up a hand, his eyes pleading. "Please, let me finish."

You nodded, allowing him to continue.

"The truth is, I've cared about you for so long that it's become more than friendship," he confessed. "Every time I see you, it's like my world stops and you become the focus."

You blinked, your heart fluttering at his words. "Theo..."

He took another deep breath, his vulnerability on full display. "I understand if you don't feel the same way. I just couldn't keep this to myself any longer."

Your gaze softened, warmth spreading through you. "Theo, you don't have to worry about how I feel."

He looked at you, his eyes searching. "are you saying..."

A gentle smile curved your lips. "Theo, I care about you too. More than I've let on, from the minute you ‘accidentally’ burnt my speech"

Relief flooded over him, and he stepped closer, his hand finding yours. "I'm relieved to hear that."

You chuckled softly, your fingers intertwining with his. "You don't have to hide anything from me."

As the two of you stood beneath the stars, theodore realised he would be okay

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞voicemails with chan after an argument

✰ genre : angst, romance and fluff in between

✰ pairings : bf!chan x fem!reader

✰ word count : 0.8k+ words

CHAN | minho | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

hey, my beautiful girl. how are you? it’s not the same without you by my side. the house looks wrecked and so am i. i am so so sorry baby for snapping at you last night. i. . . didn’t mean it. i swear. it all happened because of me and my work, and i do accept that. just come back please? i know you’re at your friend’s house but i won’t force you. ever. i just hope we can talk this out thoroughly. please? i love you very much. always know that, yeah? and i’m only a call away if you need me. good night.

two 𖨂

so i didn’t receive an answer back. does that mean you’re going to stay there for a while? alright, i respect your decisions. i always do. you know that right? anyway, today sucked. i kind of twisted my ankle while practising and i tripped over a charger and hurt my chin. it sounds painful but it was even more painful when you don’t reply to my messages, or to my calls and even my voicemails. i fucked up and i know that very well. i may sound selfish but i want you with me. i need you when i wake up and when i sleep. i want to see your face when you smile at me. how long has it been since i last saw you? over 2 weeks i suppose? if you��re listening to my voicemails, let’s meet tomorrow at our usual spot. at 3 i’ll be there. i’ll wait for you even if it takes forever.

three 𖨂

you eventually did show up. to be honest, i was surprised. i didn’t expect you to show up. but i’m glad you did. but i’m not very glad that you almost didn’t speak any other words except for ‘i need time’ and ‘alright’. it was pretty sad. then i realised how bad i must’ve hurt you for you to act this way. and i’ll say sorry a million times if you want me to. i regret ever letting you walk away like that. if only i had tried harder in our relationship we wouldn’t be at this stage where we’re unaware whether we’re together or not. i regret not understanding you earlier and spending my days at the company, rather than with you. i even started taking time out to come home early, at 8. just like you wanted. i even began sleeping on time, but i can’t help myself to fall asleep that easily without thinking how lonely you used to feel when i wasn’t here to hold you or to even talk to you. i regret everything, baby. i really do. i hope you’re happy, not skipping your meals and sleeping for good hours.

four 𖨂

i noticed something fall out of your wardrobe, and even though i respect your privacy, i couldn’t help myself. it was a letter. a letter presumably you wanted to give me, but you couldn’t. and it would be a lie if said i didn’t sit on the floor crying as i read the letter over and over till i had it memorised. you always wanted to write me letters didn’t you? what more do you have up your sleeve? how long are you going to keep impressing me and making my heart flutter like that? you might think i’m being a little too extra today, but it’s true! you can’t just go away after making me fall that deep for you. it’s been three weeks now. how long am i going to be punished? just answer me once. please.

five 𖨂

when i tell you i almost fell off the couch, you won’t believe me. but i almost didn’t believe my eyes when i saw your voicemail. why would you ever be sorry baby? you have all the right to be angry at me. i deserve it. but don’t think you did anything wrong. you just did what you thought was right. and sometimes, it’s better that way you know? like if you wouldn’t have gone away i would just return to my schedule again. i wouldn’t have realised where i was wrong. so don’t blame yourself, okay? as i said before, i’ll wait.

six 𖨂

so this is gonna be the end of all the angsty voicemails as you just called me saying you’ll be coming home tonight. i’ll prepare a welcome dinner for you along with some kisses if you would like. and hugs too perhaps? i am just on my way to clean the house and myself too. since i didn’t shower today, so i’ll see you in about 8 hours. i’m very happy that you’re coming back babe. i love you so much. and i, thank you, for giving me a second chance. i’ll be waiting for you, my love.

[donutz]

Dogday “x” reader

Summary||Not romantic, at all, but you do give DogDay his legs back ^_^

Going over to the eerie hall, you see a bunch of cells.

Spooky..

I hear.. footsteps? No, not Catnap’s. It’s someone else.

Considering this absolutely terrifying place, something’s gonna pop out at me. Alright before I almost get murdered I’m gonna go to that area that I didn’t check out.

Oh. They’re fading away.

I see a room. With a big paw in the middle. Well, like a paw pillow. You think this is where Catnap sleeps? There’s little Smiling Critters. 

Cute. I just realized how adorable that is. Catnap sleepin here while little critters are above him. He’s still just a kitty.

Like 10 years ago..

Anyways I’m gonna go back.

I hear footsteps.. Again?

I go over to the last row a cells and— HOLY—

“You… You’re Poppy’s angel”.

I don’t want to exaggerate, but my mouth was WIDEE open. But I closed my mouth because that was pretty rude to do.

“Come to save us”.

I wanna do something but I’ll let him talk, not for long though, I can’t let DogDay be in anymore pain.

“Nothing left to save, not here”...

Lies, I could save you right now!!

“You’re in Catnap’s home, angel”.

Alright I’m done with you talking. I start, luckily since I used to mess with the toys, getting out my tools to start working.

Well, I find the sharpest one so I can cut the belts holding him up.

“Their home”.

“A million pairs of—”

I take one big swing at all of the belts, and fortunately they all snap! Of course I caught DogDay in time.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, puppy.” I declare, not joking. Like 100%, DogDay is not dyin’ on me.

“But Angel I’ll only slow you down—”

“Lies”.

“The only thing I need to worry about is getting you safe, not you ‘slowing me down’!” I tried to sound a lot less annoyed, I’m not, at all. But I don’t want DogDay to burden himself even more.

I was also running from a bunch of small demons so yeah.

They were chasin’ me like they were tryna eat me alive!

No pun intended.

While I was speed crouchin’ through, there was little critters on the right side of me— I kicked them.

“Sorry little one!” I apologized, I didn’t feel fully bad but I still do because y’know! They’re still— a little bit like the bigger, original critters!

Barely.

Even though they kicked the smaller critters, they still apologized.. They really are an angel.

Finally making it out, I see three colored slides. I made a quick decision and decided to slide down the middle one.

Luckily that was the right one.

“Keep going angel, you’re doing good”..

DogDay is by far the best dog I’ve ever known.

I quickly switched my green hand to my purple hand and used the jump pad—

“Hold on”!

We made it on the platform and thankfully a metal door shut behind us, cutting off the smaller critters.

I pressed the button so we could go up, and waited.

“Angel, that was amazing! But why would you save me?” Wouldn’t it have been better if they left?

“Because I don’t want you to die. Plus, you didn’t slow me down. Also are you okay? Y’know, because of how much I was moving..?

“I'm alright Angel, are you”?

“I am completely fine! Physically”!

I gave him a smile, a real smile. Just so he doesn't think I'm lying.

“Plus, I'm really happy that I was able to get you outta there.”

Now, I just need to get the parts to rebuild him. I 100% do not mind doing that.

After some time, you were able to find a somewhat safe spot that was found by Poppy and Kissy.

And yes, you held DogDay the whole time. Like a little kid holding their stuffy.

You placed DogDay on the ground, he held himself up with his arms so you didn't need to worry too much.

“This might take a while, but the result will be worth it. Or not, depends on your opinion”.

“You reattaching my lower body will be worth it no matter how long it will take”.

I was a little surprised that he said that— he's still outgoing and kind after all these years…

I lifted my head and saw that he had a genuine smile— of course, I smiled back.

After— about two and a half hours I was done. My back is kinda sore but that doesn't matter.

“Okay, you wanna try sitting up”?

.

.

.

“Dog—”

There were visible stars in his eyes.

He was in awe because of my work, and gave me a hug. A really big hug.

“Thank you, Angel”...

“You've done so much for me, how could I ever repay you”...

While he was hugging you he stood up at the same time.

Omg he can walk!! I mean stand.

And Jesus he was tall, not 6’2 type stuff but he was like— 5’0! That's tall for a ‘toy’.

I hugged him back and we were there for a while.

I completely forgot he asked me something.

“Oh! Uhh, you do not need to repay me. But your way of repaying me is just being alive”.

“Promise”?

“... I promise Angel”.

[robinsno1lesbian]

reader goes to a party, drinks, dance, gets horny and then think that is a good idea to go to nancy’s house, she could’ve gone to robin’s but she knows that she would get too worried about how she got there and it’s not that nancy doesn’t worry about her, in fact she does, she’d probably get mad with her for not taking care of herself but it turn her on when nance gets like that, a little mean and rough with her words and touch and reader says “it’s so hot when you act like a mom, can i call you mommy?🥺” please im such a simp for nancy

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .

-n.w. x reader

summary: you find your way to nancy’s place after a late night at a party. smut ensues. (2.4k)

warnings: SMUT!! r gets wasted at a party, so: alcohol/drug use, mommy kink, finger sucking, r is a menace, oral sex (r receiving), hair pulling, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl…), friends to lovers, didn’t beta read (as always).

a/n: i’m getting through so many requests right now!! i have no idea where the motivation is coming from but i’m gonna make use of it while it lasts!! send me your horny thoughts folks! <3

you stumble through the wheeler’s backyard, a little uncoordinated, as quiet giggles fall from your lips.

you try to avoid the flowers nancy’s mother has planted, but with your vision blurry and the alcohol still running through your system, it’s a lot harder than expected. you laugh stupidly when your bare leg get caught in the thorns of the roses and try to rip it free before you reach the spot right underneath what you think is nancy’s bedroom window.

more drunken laughter slips from your lips when you imagine the face mr. wheeler would make if you accidentally climbed into his room instead, waking him and his wife from their sleep at the crack of dawn.

you manage the climb more or less solid, blissfully unaware of the height.

“nance” you call out, whisper-yelling her name against the closed window. “wakey wakey”

you knock your fingers against the glass as well, probably harder than necessary. it does the trick: someone flicks the light on and, mere seconds later, the brunette is pulling open her window to glare down at you.

“what are you doing?” nancy hisses, her palms against the windowsill.

“let me in?” you mouth, trying to quiet down. “my leg hurts”

“your-“ she leans forward a little and you lift your leg up for her to see the red lines the thorns have left on your shin. you do lose your balance like this, slowly sliding backwards. luckily nancy is quick to grab your wrists and pull you back against the wall.

“come in” she says, defeated at your drunken state. “and be quiet”

your attempt to climb through her window turns out poorly as you get stuck halfway: your upper body is dangling into the room whilst your legs are still outside, kicking.

“nance” you chuckle. “nance, i’m stuck!”

the girl groans but returns to help you all the way in, sending you stumbling onto the carpet with a more or less loud thud.

her room smells like vanilla and the sweet scent of the floral perfume she wears.

you’re laughing by the time your body collides with the hard ground and watch her from where you’re laying, tilting your head from left to right to inspect her features from this angle.

“you look funny” you conclude.

“you’re drunk” nancy says, her arms crossed over her chest. she’s in a pretty, pink set of pyjamas, lacy and slightly see through in the most perfect places. you can see the outline of her hardened nipples and it makes your mouth water at the mere thought of- no, you remind yourself, this is not the time to thirst over nancy wheeler.

“what are you even doing here at-“ she glances at the clock on her bedside table. “04:00 am?!”

“alright so-“ you throw yourself onto your belly. “i was at this party right? and i got a liiittle drunk”

you try to get to your feet but don’t manage without the other girl’s help, body stumbling and shifting from left to right.

“anyway, your house was closer than robin’s and she always gets so worried” you lower your voice near the end of the sentence, as though robin is around to hear. “didn’t want her to worry about me and- and my shin! my shin!”

you dramatically point out, pointing downwards to the small cuts on your legs.

nancy sighs, already looking through her stuff.

“you could’ve gotten hurt” she scolds, finding her first aid kit underneath her bed. “you did get hurt. what were you thinking?”

“your mom’s roses did that” you whine weakly.

nancy tsks and gets back to you, her brown curls moving as she shakes her head.

“you shouldn’t have went to that party all by yourself!” she points out. “next time, you’re gonna go with a friend, you hear me?”

she grabs your leg and sets your foot down on the floor so it’s bent and she can inspect the cuts.

her brows furrow and she reaches for the a small bottle.

“is that gonna hurt?”

“a little” she says, then softer: “you’ll live”

you take a deep breath in when she taps the alcohol onto your skin. it does burn and you instinctively reach for her hand. to your own surprise, nancy doesn’t pull away. she just squeezes your hand in hers as the other makes sure to disinfect the small wounds.

you hum, watching the other girl work. always taking such good care of you, that nancy wheeler.

“somebody has to” nancy points out. it’s then that you realize you actually said that out loud.

“you have to take better care of yourself y/n” she goes on. her brows are still drawn together. “you could’ve gotten hurt! or worse-“

“mhm” you hum. hardly even listening to any of the words she’s saying. “you know” you slur and lean forward a little bit. “it’s so hot when you act like that. like a mom”

nancy raises her brows in surprise, her fingers sliding away from yours as her hand goes slack.

“you’re such a mommy nance” you go on, your mind foggy as you admit to those things you’ve been imagining. “can i call you mommy?”

a muscle in her sharp jaw twitches.

“y/n” she hisses. “you’re drunk”

“you’re hot!” you say in return, crawling a little closer to her.

“that’s not-“ nancy shakes her head, more energetically this time. perhaps it’s your drunk brain that’s playing tricks on you but her eyes do seem to darken a little bit.

“please?” you try again, batting your lashes at her pleadingly. “pretty please nance. you’re so pretty and so hot when you look after me and-“

nancy presses a finger against your lips to keep you from talking.

“y/n” she warningly murmurs.

it’s not enough. and the finger pressing against your lips seems too tempting for you not to open them and flick your tongue against it.

nancy doesn’t pull back. just turns her head to face you, a look of surprise flashing over her features.

you hold her gaze and part your lips further, until you’ve got the tip of her finger resting between your lipstick smeared lips.

“please” you whisper once more, suddenly (at the new sensation and taste of nancy wheeler’s finger in your mouth) thinking clearer than you have all night.

nancy, who’s staring right back at you, pushes forward at the same time as you suck, so her index sinks into your mouth. you hum when you feel the soft pressure of it pressing down on your tongue.

her lashes flutter and she inhales sharply as she watches the scene unfold.

eventually, she snaps out of her frozen state. her free hand curls up in your hair slowly, until you’re yanked back suddenly. you gasp when you find nancy glaring down at you, holding you by the back of your head.

“is that right?” she whispers, a second finger toying along your bottom lip.

all you can do is whine and open your mouth further so she can push it into you.

your drool is dripping from the side of your mouth when nancy lets you suck on her manicured fingers.

“mhm” she breathes when you let out a strangled moan. “that’s right sweetheart, gag on mommy’s fingers”

her words send a jolt of arousal straight to your center. you hollow out your cheeks around her and nancy hums, pleased.

“so pretty” she coos, spurred on by all the pretty moans and gasps. nancy’s fingers comb through your hair as her fingers pump into your throat. you want her to feel, you absentmindedly think, how good you suck her.

perhaps she’ll let you suck on her breasts next, hidden by nothing but the thin lace she’s wearing. or her strap, with you between her strong legs, bobbing your head along her length. you can feel your cunt throb between your legs at the mere thought.

“nancy” you choke out, voice thick with want. it’s all you do: you want. you want to please her, want to sink to your knees for her and eat her out. you want to let her have her way with you until the only thing you know is her name.

but nancy pulls back, a string of saliva connecting her fingers to your mouth.

“come on baby” she whispers. “you know better than that”

“mommy” you finally gasp because you do know better. especially for her. always for her.

“good girl” nancy praises, her fingers running through your hair appreciatively.

“want mommy to take care of you baby? want me to fuck you properly?”

“yeah” you nod in agreement. “yeah please”

“bed” nancy commands. “now”

the two of you scramble to your feet, nancy hot on your heels. you practically throw yourself onto the pink, fluffy sheets. the mattress beneath you bounces under your weight but the other girl is quick to lie down on top of you and press you into it.

her soft lips press against yours, hungry and hot. it’s the first time kissing her. different from how you’d imagined it, exactly how you’d fantasized.

her tongue licks into your mouth, coaxing a moan from the back of your throat.

“mhm that’s it” she smiles against your lips. “let me hear you baby. be loud for me”

and then she’s kissing down your torso, dragging her nose through the fabric of the shirt. your skin is burning, wanting to feel her lips against it without the additional layer of clothing in the way, but nancy is frantic. she’s kissing her way down like she’s got no time to waste at all.

before you know it, she’s between your legs, pushing your thighs up to your chest to have you nice and open for her.

nancy quickly fumbles with your skirt, works it out of the way and stuffs it into its hemline.

“can i eat you out?” nancy husks, her breath ghosting over your clothed cunt. she’s got her eyes on you, admiring the wet slick patch on the fabric.

“mhm” you whine. “please”

“please what?” nancy asks, her nails digging into the skin of your inner thighs.

you lean your head back against the pillows, humiliation and arousal running hot through your veins.

“please, mommy”

nancy runs her nose over your center, kissing your opening through your underwear.

“that’s it” she praises, fingers reaching for the hemline of your panties.

you bite your lip and lift your hips so the other girl can peel them off and throw them over her shoulder.

“there you go” nancy coos, admiring the sweet slick of your pussy. “such a pretty girl. such a pretty pussy too hm?”

you’re blushing furiously then, as you watch her take in the sight of it.

she grabs the flesh of your ass and pulls you right against her mouth.

the moan you let out at the first contact of her tongue is loud and ragged. you arch your back and nancy reaches for your waist to hold you in place.

her mouth wraps around your clit, sucking harshly, and you’re gone.

her pink, plump lips vibrate around you when nancy hums her approval.

you don’t know if she has ever done anything like this before. she certainly hasn’t gone down on you yet, but she seems to study your body with every precise flick of her tongue and learns with every reaction she coaxes from you.

and you’re responsive, twitching and trembling on the mattress every time she moves.

you can feel yourself gushing more slick each time nancy flicks her tongue side to side, rolling it over your clit perfectly.

“that- that’s good nance” you gasp. “right there!”

“yeah?” nancy breathes, her chin covered in your arousal.

you whine, managing a weak nod on her pillow. your cheeks are rosy, no longer from the alcohol but from the sheer heat of the moment.

“that’s my good girl” she hums, licking her lips. “now lay back and let me take care of you”

and with that, her mouth is back on you and she’s licking broad strokes through your cunt, actually fucking it into you this time.

she eats you out like this for a while, minutes spent drowning between your thighs and in your wetness. nancy wheeler, sweet, kind nancy, eats you out like her life depends on it, like a woman starved: fucks her tongue deep between your folds, wraps her lips around your clit, and licks every drop of your slick up happily.

“taste so good” she praises. “so so good for mommy, hm sweetheart?”

at this point, you’re no longer able to string together a verbal response. instead, you grab her by the hair and guide her where you want -need- her mouth.

“nancy” you cry. “nancy, nancy, nancy”

breathy, high pitched moans continue to go fall from your lips as you feel your orgasm building up in your core. you roll your hips against her lips, a weak attempt to match the pace of nancy’s tongue.

“so- so close” you manage.

“it’s okay baby” nancy assures you. “it’s okay, cum for me”

“fuck, nancy, mommy, i-“

you’re cut off by both; the orgasm that crashes over you and nancy, who puts her mouth on you again. she swallows all the slick that drips from you, dwells in the way your body goes rigid for her mouth.

nancy is relentless, fucks you through the height of your pleasure with her skilled tongue.

she doesn’t stop, not until you weakly pull her back by the brown curls, signalizing her that it’s becoming too much.

she’s covered in you: your cum glistening on her chin in the dim light of her room.

“holy shit” you pant.

“you did so good” nancy whispers, crawling up your body. “so pretty when you cum”

once she’s lingering above you, you wrap your arms around her and pull her in, tasting yourself on her tongue.

“thank you” you mumble against her mouth before turning your head away into the softness of her pillow. it’s warm there, comfortable, and the pillow case smells like her. it coaxes you into a comforting post-orgasmic blissful state.

“sleepy?” nancy asks bemused.

“yeah” you tell her, adjusting your position.

“it’s okay” she kisses your temple. “whatever you need. we’ll talk in the morning”

[beforeimdeceased]

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT4

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: the song was one thing, but calling you up on stage?

a/n: none!

better keep your head down + give me a call if you ever get lonely

masterlist.

the paparazzi are everywhere, all snapping shots of you as you rush into the band’s car. ellie stops to talk with them, ignoring jesse and dina’s pleads for her to get in. the sounds of the excited fans and the paps priding questions ring in your ears.

“so that’s the girl that fucked up your face?”

“i wouldn’t say it’s fucked up. it’d take a lot to fuck this face up. i think i look pretty hot with a bloody nose anyway.”

“and the song you performed earlier today is about her? crybaby?”

“yes—“

“ellie, get in the fucking car.”

“—yes and i’m looking into getting it released soon.”

jesse hops out of the car, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her in. “shit, gotta go guys. it was amazing to see you all—“ is cut off by the door slamming. dina let’s out a heavy sigh and throws her head back.

“i should punch you too.” dina starts. it makes ellie chuckle and she looks over at you. “it’s enough for you to write the song and perform it, but to call her out and bring her up on stage afterwards? ellie, seriously, you’re fucking horrible.”

jesse interjects. “not to mention you doing that during one of our most important songs. you ruined the set i’ve been perfectly curating for months. for what? for fun?”

ellie doesn’t respond. she just stares at you. puffy eyes and pouty lips while you sniffle down your remains of sadness. it felt like this night couldn’t get any worse, and yet you knew when you got back to the hotel she’d somehow find a way to prove you wrong.

“if you wanna sleep in our room tonight it’s fine. i completely understand.” jesse whispers to you as he opens the trunk to grab the bags. you think about it for a moment before shaking your head. you don’t want dina and jesse to feel like they always have to babysit you around ellie. you can handle yourself. you proved that today when you socked her in the face.

“alright kiddo. let me know if you need anything, okay?” he smiles, leading everyone to the rooms.

when you and ellie make it to your room, you both say nothing to each other. you’re sure she’ll break the silence, though. she always does. maybe the silence is uncomfortable for her? or maybe she just likes to hear herself talk.

“you gonna eat something?” ellie chimes up as she sees you walking towards the bathroom. you just ignore her and wash yourself up. you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from your bruised knuckles, or the lingering drowsy feeling after you’d been crying. all you want to do is collapse into the couch and sleep.

when you’re all done, you grab a blanket from your bag and settle yourself onto the couch. then ellie comes over, sitting on your blanket.

“remember when i went to jail?”

you sigh. “get off my blanket. i’m tired i want to go to sleep.” you tug at it but she refuses to move. continuing what she’d previously been saying.

“jesse and dina were on a trip and i called you. you bailed me out.”

it was 4am when you got the call. eyes barely able to open wide enough to see your screen. when you answered your heart dropped. “jail? ellie what the fuck?” you frown. she laughs. “i know right. gotta put this in our next song.” even with her sarcasm and smart ass mouth you could hear how scared she was. and you couldn’t say no. why couldn’t you say no?

you shrug. “so? what does that have to do with anything?”

“remember when you said you never hated me?”

you nod but you were rethinking it all now. flexing your sore hand. looking down at your blanket that she’d decided to hold hostage. confusion written all over your face. you said you never hated her, but not that you’d never hate her.

“i didn’t write that song to be mean—“

you interrupt her with a chuckle. “then what the fuck was it for?”

she angrily gets up and rushes away. “fucking forget it.”

you stand up, throwing a couch pillow at her. “why are you such an asshole, williams? seriously. were you dropped on your head as a baby or something? why do you walk through life as if everybody has done something wrong to you? you’re the tragedy of the story? that’s just not the case.”

she grabs the pillow and rushes at you, hitting you over the head. “why don’t you hate me then, huh? if i’m so terrible why don’t you hate my fucking guts?”

an uncomfortable silence falls between you two. you, bewildered at her question, still finding it hard to believe she cares. failing to understand why it’s your opinion she cares so much about. her, anticipating your answer. on edge. wanting things to make sense. both of you staring at each other. breathing heavy. twisted faces.

you see the scared look in her eyes and you almost want to hold her. want to see her for what she truly is: scared. that’s why she’s always angry. because she’s scared. because she’s alone. because she didn’t mean to, but she’s run everyone away.

but her lip curls into an all knowing smirk. the kind that could only come from predicting your thoughts through your eyes. piercing into your soul to ping at the bit of empathy you had left in you. for her. for the girl who’s angry and scared and alone. the girl who called you onstage in front of a crowd of people to humiliate you.

the girl who embarrassed you at karaoke. turned a video of you drunk falling into a meme. pushes you off to the side so she can be in the middle of dina and jesse on the sidewalk. trips you if you aren’t paying attention. lies. fights. and fucks you over.

your face changes completely, and hers falls when she realizes.

“you’re pathetic. you’re sad and you’re sick. i can’t believe i trusted you. i can’t believe i had sex with you. fuck you.” you yell before storming off. leaving her there. all alone.

“so you’re starting a band?” you ask dina. she nods, smiling. “with jesse and a friend of ours. i can’t wait for you to see us perform. maybe you could come to one of our practices this weekend?”

“yeah, i’d love to meet your friend!”

[softhairedhotch]

AHHHH FIRST FIC OF COMFORTEMBER YEAHHHH >:D comfortember day one: safe aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader after having a rough night out, you call aaron and he rushes to find you immediately. he fixes you up and the two of you finally admit how you feel about each other. word count: 1.5k warnings/content: mentions of fighting and alcohol but mostly fluff.

comfortember masterlist here! also on ao3 <3

you make me feel safe

Aaron wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing beside him. It gets to the fourth or fifth ring by the time he grabs it and anxiety bubbles low in his gut when he realises it’s you calling at almost three in the morning. Answering the phone, he immediately asks, “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

He’s up and out of bed instantly, throwing on the first shirt he finds and the closest shoes to the bed. “Tell me where you are.”

“I’m at, uh, I don’t, I’m… somewhere. My mind is all over the place.”

Aaron’s heart hammers widely in his chest. “Somewhere? Can you look around for me and see if you recognise something? Anything?”

“Okay,” you reply, voice shaky. After a few moments, you clear your throat. “I’m outside the bar we all went to a few weeks ago.”

“The Tipsy Ship? The one closest to work?” 

“Y-yeah, yeah.”

Aaron grabs his keys and runs out of his house, not even thinking about locking the door as he runs toward his car. Jack is sleeping over at JJ's; the house will be fine unattended for now. “I’m on my way. Are you hurt?”

“I think so.”

“You think–” Aaron stops to take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before shoving his phone into its holder and slamming his car door shut. “Don’t worry, I’m on my way.”

“Can you stay on the line with me?”

“Of course.”

***

When Aaron reaches the bar, his heart breaks at the sight of you standing alone outside. He tenses up once he notices that, not only are you alone, but dry blood covers your face, there’s a large bruise forming on your cheek, and the knuckles of your dominant hand are cracked and bloody. “God,” he mutters, running straight for you and grabbing you by the shoulders. He can smell an overpowering scent of alcohol on you and he winces. “What happened? Where’s the bastard that did this to you?”

You point toward an ambulance down the road. “The coward freaked out when I punched him back and thought he needed medical attention. Most they’re gonna diagnose him with is Dumbassery and Stupid Prick Disease.” You look back at Aaron and weakly smile. “And maybe a concussion.”

Aaron can’t help it, he laughs. “At least you haven't lost your sense of humour. But let's get you home and cleaned up, alright?” 

“Can I go to yours? I don’t really wanna be alone right now.”

He smiles. “Of course you can.”

***

Aaron holds a wet cloth to your face, reaching out to grab your chin between his fingers gently when you flinch away. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s cold, is all.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, gently dabbing away the dried blood under your nose and the corner of your lips. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I got into a fight.”

“I can see that.”

You shrug, stumbling on your feet at the movement. Aaron gently grabs you by your elbow and shuffles you toward the kitchen counter so that you’re leaning against it for support. Once you’re stable, he begins to dab the other side of the cloth over your knuckles. “It was stupid, really.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” you sigh. It’s quiet for a few moments as you watch Aaron continue to clean up the blood. “He… the guy who punched me… I was on a date with him.” Aaron tenses. “And he kept buying me drinks and told me I had to drink them. I did because, well, free drinks, y’know?” You sigh and shake your head again, letting out a groan when it results in pain. “So stupid of me.”

“Hey, none of that. You’re not stupid.”

“Whatever you say. Anyway, I think he was trying to make sure I was drunk enough so that he could take me home without much complaint. I don’t know. I refused because I really wasn’t in the, uh, mood, and the night was a bust anyway, and he started… tryna touch me, grab me and all that, his hands were everywhere and I didn’t want them to be and…” You stop to take a few deep breaths, feeling sick at the thought of what could have happened. Aaron feels anger rip through his veins. “Anyway, he ended up punching me and I guess he wasn’t expecting me to punch back.”

Aaron grits his teeth. "Twice as hard, yeah?" 

"Twice as hard," you grin. 

“Good. That’s what I expect to hear.”

You tilt your head at him, trying to read his expression. “You’re not mad at me?”

Confused, his eyes meet yours. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, watching as his large hand moves over yours, his thumb gently sweeping over your skin. “I woke you up.”

“You woke– You– That’s what you’re worried about?” He gives you a fond look. “Yes, you woke me up. But I’m glad you did. Thank you for calling me. And for trusting me to help you.”

“I don’t think I trust anyone more than I trust you.”

Aaron’s hand stills as the words sink in. When he looks up at you, he notices that you’re staring at him with so much love that his breath catches in his throat. He hasn’t been looked at like that in… he can’t even remember. But when he thinks about it, eyes never leaving yours as you blink innocently at him, not understanding his revelation at that moment, he realises it’s the way you’ve always looked at him. With complete and utter adoration. 

As if he hung the moon and the stars.

“Oh,” is all he can get out.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Oh.”

Your face falls and he feels guilt grow deep in his gut. “You don’t trust me back?”

“What? I never said that.” He steps closer, moving a hand to your shoulder and looking into your eyes. “Of course I trust you. More than most people. More than anyone else, really.”

“Really?”

His eyes search yours and he nods firmly, squeezing your shoulder. “Really.”

You look all over his face before looking down at his lips, licking your own as your mouth immediately goes dry. “I didn't want… I… I didn't go home with that guy because of, uh, well, you. I couldn’t stop thinking of you... when I was with him.”

Aaron hums as his gaze drops to your lips. “That’s why I don’t go on dates.”

“Hm?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.” He inches closer, moving a warm hand up to cup your cheek. “Can I kiss y–"

“Yea–"

And your lips are pressed together before either of you can finish. The kiss is soft, sweet, gentle, and full of so much raw emotion that it’s almost suffocating (in the best way). Aaron moves his lips against yours desperately, holding your face in his large calloused hands as if you might break at any moment, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. The moment your tongue brushes against his bottom lip, though, he pulls back with a heavy sigh. “Shit, you’re drunk. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m totally taking advantage of you and–”

“Aaron.”

“I should know better and–”

“Aaron!”

“You should feel safe here–”

You press your lips against his again, effectively shutting him up. It’s a much shorter kiss this time, but not any less enjoyable. “I do feel safe, Aaron. Here, with you.”

“You do?”

“Of course. You make me feel safe; you always have.”

He visibly relaxes and pulls you into a hug. “So have you.” He sighs against you, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “I like being with you.”

“I like being with you too, Aaron.”

He smiles against you and holds you for a moment more before pulling back, hands still wrapped around you. His heart breaks at the sight of the dark bruise forming on your face and he leans forward to press a tender kiss against the skin, careful not to hurt you in any way. “I wonder how long we’ve liked each other.”

“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, I think.” 

Aaron’s breath hitches at the admission. “You’re in love with me?”

You tilt your head at him, fighting back a smile. “Did I not make that obvious enough?”

“I… didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Well, get them up, Hotchner, because I’m in love with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Aaron’s face softens and he presses a kiss to your cheek, sighing in relief. “I’m in love with you, too.” He runs his hands lovingly over your back. “Now let’s get you changed into some comfortable clothes and into bed, yeah? It seems like we have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

“Can I sleep in your bed with you?” 

He presses another kiss to your cheek. “There’s no other place I’d rather you be, sweetheart.”

tag list: @criminalskies @ssahotchnerr @hotchs-big-hands @citrusiove @sillyhotchsgirl

lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future fics

[missmeinyourbones]

TWIN SIZED MATTRESS

a part two of where love lives because i am such a sucker for rei getting those kids the hell out of that house and the todoroki fam being normies 

You would almost be drifting off to sleep—if it wasn't for the dead weight of Shouto’s  limbs on your lap and the irritating buzzing of Touya’s whines in your ear. 

“He’s out cold.”

Touya gestures to the blob of red and white hair sprawled out by your side. After one episode of his cartoon and a few head scratches from your hand, Shouto was out like a light. 

It’s been about thirty minutes since then, and the low mumble of the cartoon still humming across the dim living room speaker is driving Touya up a wall. 

“If you’re not gonna let us go upstairs, at least let me change the fuckin’ channel,” he mumbles behind a scowl. 

You roll your eyes but gently toss him the remote regardless. He hums at his victory, catching it easily and flying through countless channels, eventually landing on some poorly produced scary movie from the early 2000s—and if it wasn't for his youngest brother wedged in between the two of you like a cushion, he’d be using the film as an excuse to cling onto you.

It's not long before the sound of a key in the lock softly rattles the front door, and a few seconds later, Rei enters quietly, almost like she's not trying to make a single sound. But when she sees two (and a half) silhouettes on the couch, she tosses her keys on the counter with a bit less caution.

“What a pleasant surprise this is,” her voice is teasing, but it’s all in good fun. She’s a soft woman, in her speech and touch—and the way Touya’s eyes glass over when they’re on her.

He barely lets his gaze stray from the film to flicker her way when he mumbles half-hearted a “hey, Ma.” You decide to be the adult in the situation and properly greet the woman of the house.

Slowly and carefully removing Shouto’s limp limbs from your lap, you manage to slide out from beneath his weight and stand up.

“Shouto didn’t feel well, so we gave him some medicine and let him lay with us for a bit,” you gesture to the sofa where he still snores while your boyfriend watches the movie and scoots away from the drool now pooling on the cushion beside him. 

“How sweet you two are,” she breathes, simultaneously thanking you while cheap-shotting Touya, knowing this had to be all your doing. 

Because it doesn’t take a genius to know that while he means well enough, there’s no way in hell it was Touya’s idea to cuddle up with his brother on a Friday night. 

“Are you staying the night?” she innocently asks, her gaze flickering to the stove clock and seeing it’s well past midnight. 

You make a mental note to kill Touya later for not telling his mother of your attendence. Politely, you decide to tread lightly, “If it's alright with you, please.” 

At the same time, Touya mumbles something from his spot on the couch about it being too dark out now for you to be driving anyways. 

“Of course,” she shrugs her jacket off, laying it on the back of a chair while getting herself a glass of water, “take Touya’s room, he’s fine on the couch.”

At that, your disinterested boyfriend is suddenly extremely intruiged with this conversation.

“No,” he nearly chokes on his own disbelief, “I’m not okay on the couch.”

“Don’t listen to him, take the bed,” Rei continues, completely ignoring her eldest son practically throwing a fit as he finally stands and scurries over to the two of you.

“We’re adults,” he heaves, though his whiny tone betrays his claim, “I think it’s safe to say we can sleep in the same bed, Ma.”

Rei deadpans as blunt as ever, looking her eldest dead in the eye without a shred of shame or subtly when she sighs.

“I’m too young to be a grandmother, Touya.”

You feel your skin grow hot, and you don’t miss the way Touya’s neck flushes also red as he curses under his breath. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” he rubs his eyes in irritation. “As if we’d ever try anything with all of you fuckin’ people here.”

You bite your tongue at the lie that webs through his teeth. As if that wasn't what you were doing in the first place when Shouto decided it was a convenient time to have a stomach ache.

With a silent wave of her hand, Rei seems to send Touya up to his room to both get it ready for you and grab whatever he needs for the couch. He does so wordlessly, but can’t help the dramatic sigh and heavy footsteps up the stairs along the way.

When Rei sees your nose crinkle at his theatrical antics, she shakes her head and reassures you.

“He’ll be fine.” 

She offers you a glass of water, and the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments.

It’s nice. For a house that's always breathing with hectic excitement, it’s refreshing to take in its small noises. The sound of the floorboards creaking beneath Touya’s footsteps above, the ice maker grinding and chiseling every few moments, the ceiling fan whirling against the metal of its own chain.

After a moment, Rei speaks up—and when you catch her eye, she’s admiring you with a different kind of softness you’ve yet to see on her. 

“We love having you here,” she delicately insists, before quietly adding, “all of us.”

Her comment warms you from the inside out. Like a fire in your chest, the genuity of her words spreads all throughout your veins and into each crevice of your body. It feels like home has eaten you alive. 

“I love being here,” you manage to whisper after a moment, “thanks for always having me.”

She returns easily, “Thank you for taking care of my baby.”

Your head turns to where the tiniest Todoroki quietly snores on the couch, “It’s no big deal, Shouto’s always great.”

“I wasn’t talking about Shouto,” Rei doesn't miss a beat, gently resting a loving hand on your shoulder.

Touya calls your name from upstairs, seemingly to let you know that his room is ready for you. You shoot Rei a smile that you hope does even a sliver of the happiness you're feeling justice before crawling upstairs.

Annoyance clear on his face, he points to his messily prepared bed with a mock kindness, “Your grace.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics but accept the bed nonetheless. One you’ve been in more times than you can count, but never without him, Touya’s bed is comfortable in all of the right places. The comforter isn’t too heavy for the summer heat, and his sheets smell like the perfect balance of his cologne and lingering cigarette smoke. 

You half expect Touya to give you a proper goodnight, but you should’ve known better, because instead of coming over to kiss you, he sulks to the doorway before whispering, “The second she’s asleep, I’m coming up.”

You do your best to sound strict behind your inching smile. “No, you’re not.”

Touya merely shrugs before gently closing the door, his pillow in his hand and a flickering look in his eye.

He keeps his word because precisely eight minutes after you hear Rei gently creep upstairs and close her bedroom door, another one opens and Touya’s lanky frame scurries in.

“Get out,” you half-heartedly threaten through a sleepy rasp.

His movements don't hesitate in the slightest. He continues to close the door slowly, securing it and creeping to his bed on his lightest steps. 

“This is my room,” he humbly reminds you.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble,” you attempt to reason with the unreasonable.

“Please,” he scoffs, shimmying himself beneath the covers and onto his flattened pillow, “she knew this was gonna happen the moment she sentenced me to that fuckin’ couch.”

Touya moves to spoon you, placing his hand on your stomach before you tense up and turn around to face him directly.

“We are not having sex,” you harshly remind him in a whisper.

You can practically see his stupid smirk when he replies, “Didn’t realize I was dating a nympho.”

He hears you kiss your teeth in annoyance, but when you move away from his hands, he shushes your complaints and halts your movements with a tightening grip.

“Hey, stop,” he whines, letting you turn around but forcing his way to nuzzle into the back of your neck.

“Just wanna lay with you,” he whispers into your back before gently nipping the skin and adding a sweet, “you gremlin.”

You gently scoff at that and settle beneath his touch, and the world almost feels like it stops spinning as the two of you cram into a twin size mattress Touya’s had since he was about eleven years old.  

“Thanks,” his voice quietly cuts through the silence of his bedroom, barely louder than the cicadas that chirp outside as he continues, “for helping the little asshole tonight. Pretty sure he was faking it, though.”

He feels you laugh through a huff of your nose, “Doesn’t matter, I was happy to be here.”

 Touya softly gnashes his ankles against yours when interlocking your legs together. You feel a tiny kiss on your exposed shoulder when he groggily speaks above the sound of the air conditioner.

“Think we were all happy for that.”

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Slutmas Day 6

Stressed & Insecure (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Mommy kink, talk of poor mental heath, angsty at first, Matt being insecure, talk of body dysmorphia, friends to lovers, cockwarming, oral, whiny Matt

“You’re such a good boy for letting mommy take care of you like this”

Matt’s pov

Everything sucks right now, I’m so busy with work, it’s taking up all of my time, and everything going on right now backs up to that. I was purely stressed from work originally, which I know might seem easy, but don’t be fooled because it’s not. We’ve had so many meetings for sponsored content, videos, guest appearances, and merch designing, on top of filming for our YouTube and the Podcast. I’m genuinely just drained, my anxiety is high, I can’t sleep, and I’m overall in a bad mood.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘why not just jack off?’ well that’s because I can’t. I guess with being stressed and overwhelmed by everything, my cock just won’t get hard. It probably doesn’t help that my body is constantly getting hated on because of my weight, it makes me really insecure and uncomfortable with myself and my body. I was sitting at my desk doing some more online work and it was pissing me off, I’m so frustrated! I’m just doing so much overthinking and it’s making me stressed, overwhelmed, and insecure.

Just as I threw my notebook across the room there was a small knock and Chris popped his head in. “Matt, are you alright? Do you need anything?” Chris asked, knowing I wasn’t in the best mental state. “I’m fine, I just want to be alone” I sighed back, “Are you still coming to Larray’s house with us tonight?” I completely forgot about that. Chris looked a bit disappointed by my answer but he understood, “Nah I’m just gonna stay here, ‘m stressed and overwhelmed right now so I won’t be any fun” I said before Chris closed the door.

That was my insecurities talking, I always found myself rather boring and unenthusiastic when I’m in these moods. It had been about an hour of trying to get hard and then sitting in my chair with my head in my hands. My door slowly creeped open and I immediately assumed it was Chris or Nick. “Get the fuck out of my room!” I yelled, turning around to be met with my best friends confused face. “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” Y/n said quite nervously. I slammed my fist down on my desk before completely losing it, hot tears rolling down my face.

1 hour earlier

Y/n’s pov

I was at a nail appointment when I got a text message, I was already done with my fingers and in the chair for my toes.

iMessage start at 5:02pm

Chrisizzle🍊

bro are you busy

Y/n/n🪼

i’m getting my toes done rn

why

Chrisizzle🍊

at 5:30 me and nick are going to larray’s for the night

so i wanted to ask you a favor

yk how matt’s been kinda moody lately?

well today he’s really stressed and sad so he’s in a bad mood and i don’t want him to be alone tonight so can you head over afterwards and chill with him?

Y/n/n🪼

you literally just set up a playdate for your child lmao

but yeah i’ll go over there, i’ve missed my matty poo

Chrisizzle🍊

wow but you don’t miss me

that one hurt Y/n/n 🥲

anyways lmk when you get to our house bc we leave in 15

Y/n/n🪼

awe of course i miss you too sizzle 🤍

i’m abt to pay then I’ll head over

Chrisizzle🍊

don’t call me sizzle

*Y/n/n🪼 disliked this message*

iMessage ends at 5:37pm

The message had been from one of my best friends, Chris, he asked if I would go hang with his triplet bother, Matt, for tonight. I know he’s been getting a lot of hate about his attitude/weight and has been down the past 2 or 3 weeks, so I was hoping to cheer him up. I drove directly to the boys house after paying for my nails since I had a bunch of essentials over there and didn’t need anything from home.

I let myself in with my key and walked up to Matt’s room, which groans of frustration could be heard coming from. I lightly knocked before entering his room, as I was reclosing the door Matt yelled. “Get the fuck out of my room!” he said angrily, Matt’s never yelled at me before and he looked so pissed off that I got a little nervous.

I quickly replied with “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” he looked at me for a second before I saw his face change to one of pain, hurt, and anxiety. Matt slammed his fist onto his desk yelling “Fuck!” before choking out into sobs.

His whole body was shaking and he slid out of his chair onto the floor, something he does when he’s really, really upset. I immediately ran over to sit next to him, wrapping my arms around his shaking figure. “I’m sorry! They hate me and I’m sorry!” he blurted out, causing me to be a bit confused as Matt’s hands desperately clung onto my shirt.

“It’s okay Matt, let it all out. You’re safe honey, I’ve got you-“ I was cut off by Matt pulling away from my shirt and basically screamed out in pain. “I don’t know what the fuck I did! Y/n, what’s wrong with me!? A-Am I not good enough!? I’m too skinny, I try to eat more but I can’t gain weight, I fucking hate my body! All I keep doing is disappointing everyone, Y/n I-I don-“ he started spiraling into a panic attack and I was worried, I have never seen Matt this bad before.

I didn’t know what else to do so I pushed past my own anxieties and kissed him. I cupped both of his cheeks and smashed our lips together, Matt was shocked at first so he didn’t kiss back but once he realized what was happening, he kissed back. I pulled away and Matt’s lips tried to chase mine before he opened his eye.

“W-What was that for?” he asked, a bit breathless from his previous breakdown. I suddenly felt shy so I looked down, “I uh- I didn’t know how else to get you to stop talking” I said, nervously playing with my fingers. “Oh, well thanks?” he said in a questioning tone, “Did you mean what you said about your body? Do you really think that?” I softly asked.

Matt groaned and stood up, offering me his hand, “I don’t want to talk about it but yes, I do hate my body” he mumbled as I too stood up. We made our way over to his bed and laid there in silence for a few minutes. I rolled over to my side facing Matt “Have you tried cumming?” I questioned quietly, “What!?” he rolled to face me as well, confused by what I just said.

“You know, because you’re stressed. I think I read somewhere that having an orgasm helps to relieve stress” Matt’s face was now painted red. He rolled over to be flat on his back again, “I’ve tried but I can’t get hard” he exhaled deeply. “Oh… I could try to help if you want” I offered, chewing on my nails, Matt turned to face me again, “Help.. me get… Help me get hard?” he questioned nervously.

We both had blush covering our faces at this point, “Yeah, then I can go chill in Nicks room and you can jerk off” I smiled shyly. “I mean that could work but I don’t want to be naked if you have clothes on” “You don’t have to be naked, you just have to trust me” “I-I trust you, how do we start though?” we conversed. I took a moment to think before asking, “Do you want to make out first, I know I’m like a lot bigger than you so I don’t know if it would be a problem for me to sit on your lap. Is it a problem?” I asked self-consciously as we both sat up.

Matt looked at me with an unamused look, “If that’s your way of making me feel worse about my body, it worked because your body is amazing” he huffed out, avoiding looking at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way” I said with a sad smile, upset that I hurt Matts feelings. “I know you didn’t but my body is like the main reason I cant get hard. I don’t like looking at myself naked, it shows off too much of what’s wrong with me” he replied.

It was silent again for a few minute until I broke the silence again, “I think it’s hot” “What?” Matt looked at me confused. “Your body, I think it’s hot” I smirked, “You think so?” “I know so, don’t you ever notice me staring at you when you’re shirtless or only wearing your boxers?” I teased some more. “I haven’t noticed actually, however, I have noticed you’re not on my lap yet” Matt pouted, pulling me onto his lap.

I was about to say something but was cut off by Matt grabbing the side of my face/neck and pulled me into a sweet kiss that quickly turned needy. I pulled back for a second to catch my breath, “Shit, I’m sorry! I’m just so touch starved and crave physical affection. You were gonna say something?” he panicked. “It’s okay, I know that physical touch is your love language, it’s one of the things I like about you. I forgot what I was going to say but I can tell you I’ll kiss you again” I giggled.

With that, Matt pulled my face to his again and this time the kiss was soft, yet also rough and needy. I had my hands wrapped around Matt’s neck, but his laid awkwardly at his sides, almost as if he’s scared to touch me. I pulled back from the kiss to grab his wrist and mumbled something against his lips. “You can touch me you know” I smirked as I placed Matt’s hands on my waist and went back to kissing him.

Matt’s hands quickly slid down and tightly gripped onto my hips, slowly starting to rock me back and forth. I started feeling his cock get hard and once I could tell he was fully hard, I stopped everything which caused Matt to let out a displeased whine. “Mmh why’d you stop?” he pouted, “Because you’re hard now, which means it’s my queue to leave” I said while trying to get up.

Matt held my hips down and begged, “Please don’t go! I-I don’t think I’ll be able to make myself cum, me being alone with my naked body sounds like a bad dream” he sighed. Piggybacking off what was just said he added, “W-Would you please m-make me feel good? I’ll let you have your way with me as long as it’s not super rough because I’m not in the mood for that” his eyes got a shade or two darker.

“Yeah, I can give you head if you want or you can sit back, relax and enjoy the full sub treatment” “Does the full sub treatment include sex? Because I’ve never been the submissive one before, I uh usually do doggy so my body isn’t seen as much. I’ve never even had a chick ride me before but you being on top sounds really hot, we don’t to have sex by the way, I was just saying if you wanted to I’m down” Matt confessed.

“If you stop talking about sex with other women, you have a deal. I might keep my shirt on though” I replied as I started slowly rocking my hips again. Matt’s grip on my waist tightened and he thrusted his hips up, his hard-on pressing against my clit so nicely that I let out a small, quiet moan. His eyes grew even darker after that, “No you will not. I wanna see your beautiful belly, I just know it’s gonna turn me on so much more” he instructed me.

I blushed and nodded, “Okay then handsome, just lay back and let me do all the work, tonight is all about you” I said, watching him nod before my lips were on his. I slid my tongue across his bottom lip, silently asking for access to his mouth which was quickly granted. He had a bit of trouble giving up control over the kiss at first but once I started trailing my kisses down his throat, he finally gave up on trying to win.

Matt’s pov

After Y/n had dominated the kiss, we made out for a bit before she started kissing down my neck. Once she reached the collar of my shit, she stopped and stood up to unbutton her pants. “If you really want me to make you feel good, take your pants off for me” she said seductively as she pulled off her own baggy jeans. I followed her directions and pulled my sweats off before grabbing her hand and leading her to sit on my lap again.

Y/n sat on my lap again before taking off her shirt, leaving her in a black lacy bra with matching panties. “Fuck… you look so goddamn beautiful” I said while looking into her eyes, my hands running up her thighs. “Mmm, thank you handsome. Can I take your shirt off?” she smiled, placing a short but sweet kiss to my lips, “You can do whatever you want to me” I panted, already being completely whipped for her.

She took my shirt off before whispering in my ear, “You’re such a good boy for letting mommy taking care of you like this” as I helped her get my pants and boxers off. “Such a pretty cock Matty. You gonna let me make you feel good?” Y/n teased, making me squirm a bit. “Please! Please just make me cum!” I pathetically begged as I watched her hand slowly move up and down my cock.

Y/n’s pov

“Anything for my sweet boy. Now tell me what it is that you want baby” I asked softly, loving how fucked out he looked already. “Want your mouth please mommy! Want you to ride me after!” Matt confessed all whiny and desperate, and who was I to deny him that? Without a word, I nodded before bring his tip into my mouth, loving the whimper he let out, “Yeah j-just like that, fuck!” he groaned as I swirled my tongue around his tip.

After teasing Matt a little bit, I decided to fully take him into my mouth, almost immediately deepthroating his cock. “Holy shit mommy! You’re so good at this! I won’t last long!” he cried out, bucking his hips up when I hummed against him. I continued doing this for a few more minutes when I felt Matt start to twitch in my mouth, his lower abdomen contacting as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum— shit!” he whimpered as his hips thrusted upward and his left hand came down to hold my head in place. His right hand was pulling at his own hair as he shout a huge load into my mouth, so much that it was literally dripping out of the corners of my mouth. As I came up for air, I wiped the corners of my mouth to clean up the spilled cum and then licked it off.

“Did that feel good Matty? You were such a good boy” I smile as I placed a sweet kiss to his lips. “More! I-I need more! Y/n please, I need you to ride me. I’m so fucking hard still, I need to drain my balls in you” Matt begged me. “So needed aren’t we?” “Yes, please I need you” Matt nearly yelled with tears in his eyes. “Okay, okay, calm down sweet boy. You’ll get what you want, just be patient” I spoke softly as I pulled off my panties and unhooked my bra.

Matts hands immediately went down to my ass, staring up at me with a look of desperation. “Are you gonna be a good boy?” “Very good!” I smiled as I slowly sunk down on his cock, trying to adjust to how long and thick it was. “S-So tight mommy! So f-fucking tight!” Matt whimpered out as I started to move up and down with the help of him. Both of us were moaning quite loudly as I started to move faster, pulling his hair in the process.

“Such a good boy Matty, making mommy feel so good with your big cock!” “W-Want you to cum. Wanna f-fill you up” Matt grunted as he started bucking his hips up into me at a fast pace. We were both very close and with one more thrust that hit my g-spot perfectly, I was cumming on his cock. “Fuck Matt, I’m cumming. Oh god— cum for me baby!” I cried as I rode through my orgasm, starting to slightly overstimulated but wanting Matt to cum.

With a loud whiny growl, Matt came inside of me, this load was equally as big as the one from earlier, instantly dripping down his balls. “Holy shit— I love you, and I’m not just saying that because you gave me the most mind blowing orgasm ever. I genuinely love you Y/n” Matt confess as he started to rub my back. “I love you too Matt, I mean it” I smiled as I placed a soft kiss to his lips “Don’t get off, cockwarm me all night please” he sweetly asked.

I agreed and we got situated so we could lay down, Matt turning off his bedside lamp in the process. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna take you on the best date of your life, but for now, goodnight pretty lady” “Goodnight Matt, I love you” I mumbled into his neck, feeling the sleep take over my body. “I love you too, and thank you for tonight. Now get some rest baby” was the final thing to be said before we drifted off to sleep.

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