#but lately it's become too much and i've been feeling the urge to pull away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysteriouslover1516 · 2 years

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IMAGINE:

I took care of it.

The young hacker sighed as he sent the message, he hoped it would give MC at least a small sense of comfort. He had already noticed that she was being somewhat cyber bullied by strangers. Oh god, Lilly. What did you do? What a mess you created.

That's great

MC was safe for now, at least as safe as he could manage. He himself; however, that was another story. He needed to start packing, time was of the essence, it was time to go on the run again.

But you didn't threaten her, did you?

Jake paused, packing had to wait. There was no way he was going to leave while that awful thought was being entertained inside MC's head. Why would she even think that? Didn't she trust him? Didn't she know him, know that he would never do something like that?

What? No, of course not. I talked to her.

No, of course she didn't know. It was like he was pulling her in just enough so that he could ultimately push her away once more. It was an utter mess of confusion, of hidden feelings, vulnerability, secrets, and self-preservation; and he was the cause of it.

Please don't lie to me

"I'm not lying, MC." He muttered, one hand finding refuge in his black, wavy hair; slightly tugging on the strands in frustration.

That was way too fast

He sighed, what would he have to say to make her believe him? Despite his mistakes, he was a man of integrity, or at least he thought so, hoped so, knew so.

I am telling the truth MC. I filled her in on something. One day I am going to tell you too, I promise you that.

Yes, Lilly was now in possession of somewhat slightly incriminating evidence against him. Something that would thoroughly involve him in Hannah's disappearance. Something that would finally state the connection he had to the missing Donfort girl.....

I've been hearing that since forever.....Jake, please.

Jake groaned, Ugh, she was right. MC deserved to know the truth, He didn't know what would become of himself, what his fate held, whether he would ever get the chance to tell her in the future...it had to be now. Yes, MC was right, once again undeniably right. Damn.

MC, I am wanted by the government.

Probably not the most tactful way to start this conversation, but at least it was now out in the open. He felt the sudden urge to close his eyes, hesitating to read MC's response. What would she say?

You are WHAT?

Jake's fingers flew across the keyboard. He needed to reassure her, he couldn't lose her trust, he couldn't lose her, not now, not ever.

Yes. But I am one of the good guys. If you can call it that. I meddled in some things that were never supposed to get out into the public.

Why haven't you ever told me?

The hacker stopped, was she really asking him that? Wasn't it obvious? If he had started it off as "Hey, I'm considered a criminal that is wanted by the government, I need you to trust me" she would have literally flipped out. Come on, MC. You're smarter than this, I know you are, don't play dumb with me.

Because I was afraid that you would stop trusting me.

Yes, understandably so

Jake sighed, he was getting off topic, he needed to focus. Time was waning, he had no doubt that the FBI was already hot on his trail.

In any case, Lilly has published some serious information about me now. And any piece of information about me, no matter how small of a detail it is, Could help the people that are after me find out where I am.

That sounds awful

It was awful.......but to be honest.....he found himself no longer caring.

To be honest....Ever since I met you....I actually have hope again. And I thank you for that, MC.

MC made him comfortable, made him forget his present circumstances, made the trauma of his past fade out of view as the time and the conversations with her increased. He found himself falling, falling for her. And just as he was finally coming to the realization of that fact, it was too late to tell her, not now at least. They had more pressing matters to attend to, such as.....

As much as I regret it, I will now have to make some arrangements to ensure my safety first. I have to assume that the people hunting for me are hot on my heels by now. They may even be close to finding me. You might be on for you own for some time.

What, you are leaving me hanging?!

A small, dark chuckle escaped his lips. It certainly did seem like it, but no, he would never, besides.....he physically and mentally couldn't. There was no way in heck he was going to let her go.

No, of course I won't do that. If you really need me, I am going to be there for you. From now on you are going to have to take the lead.

Another sigh filled his ears, he hated this. He hated having to leave her like this. A while back he had told her he found it hard to pick up on emotions over text, but right now, he could sense it perfectly. MC was upset, fearful, perhaps even angry at Lilly, maybe even angry at him himself; but deep down he could tell she cared, deeply.

I know that I can always count on you. You've shown it to me more than once.

He paused, then once realizing she wasn't going to reply, he immediately started to type. He hoped his next message would make her laugh, at least smile a little bit, ease her sadness. He didn't want to have to leave her with a heavy heart; even though he knew that was an impossible wish to have.

And something good comes out of this whole thing: I won't be able to read your private chats anymore.

No response, damn. She was taking this hard, wasn't she? Ugh. He wished he could take more time to comfort her, to ease her nerves; if only he had the time........as it was right now he needed to flee, and the time to rewind back to about ten minutes ago.

My time is running out.

MC needed to focus, she needed to continue on in their investigation during his absence. She was the key to the puzzle, he needed to be able to depend on her.

Do you still remember, what our last lead was?

Yeah, I remember. The mysterious "Jennifer"

A faint smile flitted across his lips, in spite of all the chaos, she still remembered. Further proving to him that she could indeed keep a level head, despite the circumstances.

Right. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to look into it any further. But I think you are just as capable of doing it as I am.

For real?

Ahh, there was her sense of humor. That emojie.....what even was that? A sweaty grin? Ohhhh, wait, a nervous laugh.....yes, that was it.

Yes. Of course. You have five friends from Duskwood. Thomas, Cleo, Jessy, Richy, and Dan. I want you to choose one of them and then ask them about our mysterious Jennifer.

And you don't care who I choose?

Jake bit his lip, of course he cared. He hoped MC would choose someone who had been a resident there for years, perhaps even their whole childhood, someone who had lived there when the "terrible incident" took place ten years ago. But who would she choose? MC was very close to Jessy, did that mean she would probably ask her? Or would she ask Cleo? Richy maybe? God, he hoped she would refrain from asking Dan, what an idiot, ugh. And Thomas, hmmmm, Jake wouldn't choose him for sure if it was up to him....But it wasn't up to him, it was up to MC, he had placed the responsibility into her hands. And he trusted her, he whole-heartedly trusted her.

Let's just say, I trust your judgement. Just like you have to trust the person that you are going to choose.

It was time to say goodbye, damn. Usually goodbyes didn't faze him, because he would never allow himself to once again get close to someone, letting him avoid the painful, bittersweet goodbye. But ever since meeting MC, his world had shifted, she had pulled the rug from right underneath his feet. What had she done to him?

I have to go now. But I am going to contact you again as soon as I can.

Fingers paused over the keyboard, when would he be able to text her again? He hoped it would be soon.......he would make it be soon.

Hey, Jake?

Yes?

A small panic swarmed inside his head, he could feel his cheeks flush red. Was she going to say I love you? What would he say????

Thank you....for confiding in me despite all this

Phew. A relieved but somewhat disappointed sigh escaped his lips, god he was hormonal. He had never experienced such fast mood swings as he had ever since he met MC. Damn, he had it bad.

Thank you for never making me regret confiding in you.

Forcing himself to log off, he quickly set to work tearing his computer and work station down. Would he ever be able to rest without having to look over his shoulder? Would his life always be laced with risk and uncertainty? Was there a happily ever after in store for him? God he hoped so, he really REALLY hoped so.

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heroofshield · 9 months

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Whumcember Day 22 Alt 2- Ice (Dragon Age 2, Fenhawke)

@whumpcember

"C'mon it'll be fun." Hawke smiled as she took Fenris's hand and gave it a tug. "Besides, you've never really gone ice skating. And since it's currently winter...no time like the present."

Fenris frowned but let Hawke drag him to the door and outside. He wouldn't admit that all he wanted to do was stay in front of the fire and drink. "Not when she's so excited to show me what 'ice skating' is. This is the first smile I've seen since Carver left." he thought as they made their way through the market and towards the main gates.

As they made their way through the snow, Hawke chattered on about how she used to ice skate with Carver and Bethany back in Lothering, how they would have to wait until Malcolm tested the ice to make sure it was thick enough to support their weight. "-and there was always someone who ended up skating too late in the season and went through the ice." Marian paused, realizing what she was saying. "But you don't have to worry about that, we're well into the season and it's been really cold."

"Are you sure?" Fenris said as they made their way to the pond that Hawke had pointed out when they'd gotten in view. He paused, raising an eyebrow at the ice where the water used to be. "It doesn't look that safe to me."

"It's fine. I went out last week and nothing happened." Hawke said, pausing for a moment before letting go of Fenris's hand and marched towards the bank. Not pausing, she moved away from the bank and onto the ice itself.

Fenris's heart leapt into his throat as he heard a crack...but nothing happened. Relaxing slightly he started to follow Hawke, getting onto the edge of the ice.

"See? It's like I-" Hawke started to say, smiling when suddenly there were several sharp cracks and she fell through the ice with a shout.

"Hawke!" Fenris called out, feeling his heart leap into his throat as she disappeared. Frantically he tried to recall what she'd said in the past if someone was to fall through the ice.

Moving quickly, he lay down on the ice- spreading his body weight so he didn't fall through either. Making his way towards the hole, he risked peeking over the broken ice to see if she was there. But only water greeted him and he swallowed thickly before taking a breath and plunging his hand into the water.

The cold instantly shocked him, shooting through his system almost instantly and it took all of his willpower to keep his hand in-moving about to hopefully brush into Hawke's.

The seconds seemed to become an eternity until something bumped against his hand. Resisting the urge to withdraw it, he stopped moving and felt fingers try to grasp his. Not hesitating, he moved his arm further in and was able to take her hand. Pulling with all his strength, Fenris saw Hawke appear and gasp for air. Still focused on getting her out of the water, he grabbed with his other arm and slowly but surely dragged her onto the ice.

Realizing that they weren't out of danger just yet, Fenris somehow managed to get them both off of the ice and onto the ground. It was all a blur, all he could think about was getting Hawke to safety.

Hawke's entire body was shivering and dripping wet. In the back of her mind she knew that she needed to get warm, but the overwhelming chattering of her teeth made it hard to form a coherent thought. Vision blurring, she was dimly aware of Fenris's body pressed against hers and him saying something about getting back to Kirkwall.

Anders stoked the fire in Hawke's room while saying, "I hope you won't go onto anymore ice after this. You were half-frozen by the time Fenris carried you back here. You were lucky yet again."

Hawke let out a sneeze and ignored the comment, choosing the burrow herself under the layer of blankets as much as she could. It had been a few day since she'd gone through the ice and still couldn't stop shivering. Peeking over the covers and she saw that her mabari was spread out in front of the fire. "At least one of us is enjoying the warmth."

Anders let a half-smile appear and leaned the poker against the brick, brushing the soot from his hands. "I'll be back tonight to see how you are and Varric'll be by later this afternoon."

"Thanks." Hawke watched as Anders slipped out of the room and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling tired. It felt like she'd closed them for a minute, but when she opened them next, Fenris was asleep in the chair next to the fire.

Slightly smiling, she was glad that he'd been with her that day and hoped the mild attraction they felt between each other could grow as time went on.

#whumpcember2023 #dragon age #da2 #fenris #hawke #fenhawke #fanfic #my writing

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arielhopepeace · 1 year

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Welcome to another Joel and y/n fic. One of these times I’d like to write one that has the breakout, because zombies have always really freaked me out lol.

Anyway, in this fic, Sarah is 9, and y/n is her 4th grade teacher. Obviously it gets GOOOOOOD later on hehe. This fic was an idea recommended by @viclgrd ❤️

As always, pleaaaase enjoy.

Part two is here

Part three is here

Part four is here

Final part is here

Part One

18+ only

Tw: mention of cancer, mention of death, panic attacks, anxiety

4,770 words

Joel POV

"Sarah, come on!" I urge my very stubborn nine year old daughter.

There's nothing I love more in this world than her. She's a spitting image of my late wife, and she was honestly an easy, laid-back baby with a surprisingly calm toddler stage. Getting her to school is the only real issue I've faced with her.

Sarah loves to sleep. I've taken her to pediatricians with my concerns on why she loves to be in bed so much, but they assured me it's only due to her enjoyment of it, and the fact that she's constantly growing, making her more fatigued. Waking her up every morning before I have to go to work is difficult, and rather taxing. Luckily, I'm able to leave right after I walk her to her bus stop, always making it to work in the nick of time.

I'd like to say that I'm a good father to Sarah. My wife passed away when our daughter was only one, so Sarah doesn't have any memory of her. I've always wondered if that made it easier, never knowing her, but I've always been too terrified to ask how she feels. She's still so young that I don't want to fill her head with dark and agonizing subjects.

Of course I'll talk about her mother if she asks and explain that she passed away from cancer, but I never linger on her death with Sarah. I always do my best to turn it into a beautiful, light thing, hoping that she never develops that crippling anxiety in her sternum as I have.

"Daddy, why can't you ever take me to school?" Sarah whines as she holds my hand, both of us leaving the house.

"Because," I begin as I peer down at her, "I have to work, baby."

Her eyes twinkle up at me with their hazel hue, my lips twitching up as I admire her, completely enamored with my little girl.

"So many other kids at school have their parents visit them for lunch. Can you visit me one day?" her gaze becomes teary.

I crouch down once we're at our stop sign, giving her a kiss between her brows. "Hey," I say softly, "don't cry. I'll ask when I go in today if I can have lunch with you sometime soon, okay?"

Sarah nods with excitement, wrapping her little arms around my neck. "Thank you."

Her gentle embrace and the softness of her solemn voice tugs at my heart, making me want to just quit my job so I can stay here to hug her all day.

The bus pulls up, hissing to a stop as the doors sigh, opening with a slight squeak.

"Have a good day, baby," I kiss my fingertips, waving her off as she steps onto her bus, her head scarcely turning to give me a mildly forlorn smile.

Working in construction as I do, I'm never able to take my lunch at Sarah's school. Not only are our lunches at different times, but my jobs are usually over a half an hour away or more. It's a demanding and grueling occupation, but it pays well and allows us to live comfortably; not living paycheck-to-paycheck as we used to.

When my wife passed, I was utterly, wholly gutted. Within a month of us finding out she had cancer, she was gone. It was dreadful knowing she was in pain, knowing there was nothing I could do to help her, and watching her rapidly decline until she drew in her last weak, delicate breath on this earth.

I promised her I'd take care of Sarah, and raise her to be as incredible as she was. Every single fiber in me prays that I'm doing everything exactly as she would've wanted it.

Being alone for the last eight years hasn't been difficult for me by any means. I've gone on a few dates here and there, but never anything that has stuck with me. It's usually just one date and then it's over, never hearing from the woman again, or I never reach out.

Part of me enjoys the wilderness within where my heart lies dried up in the sun. There's no possible way I can ever be left or have my heart broken if I'm alone. I'd be perfectly content with never having a woman again; just me and Sarah until she's old enough to move out and get on with her own life. She may only be nine, but I think about her growing up every day, and how in another nine years, she'll be graduating high school.

Those thoughts always fill me with sheer, all-consuming panic, knowing that she'll be leaving one day, and I'd never prevent her from doing so. All I want is for her to be happy and live the picturesque life she deserves, and she can't do that if I'm already having empty nest syndrome before she's even in the double digits.

On the drive to work, my cell phone begins ringing through the Bluetooth of my truck. My heart stops when I see it’s Sarah’s school, immediately answering the call.

“Hello?” I try to keep my voice steady.

“Hello, Mr. Miller! This is Principal Sanders, and I’m just reaching out to all the parents of students in Mrs. Peters’ class to let them know that unfortunately she won’t be returning to school this year. She’s still out with a broken hip after her fall, and we’re afraid she won’t make a full recovery as soon as we anticipated.”

My pulse settles, relieved Sarah is okay. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I know Sarah loves her, so I’m sure she’ll be sad.”

“Aw, that’s very good to know! We’re having a welcoming party for the new teacher tomorrow at the park right across the street from the school. We thought we’d make it a special occasion to lift the student’s spirits a bit about Mrs. Peters. We’re just doing a little head count to see how much pizza we should order. This isn’t going to be school funded, it’s just some of the staff getting together to welcome her. Are you and Sarah interested in joining?”

I shrug as I keep my eyes fixed on the road. “Sure. I’d like to chip in if you’re accepting donations, or I could even bring some food myself.”

“That’s very nice of you, Mr. Miller. That would be a big help either way.”

“What time? It’s Saturday, so I don’t always work on those days.”

“It’ll be at one o’clock.”

I’ll just make sure I don’t pick up any overtime tomorrow. I usually always try to, just for the extra money, but it would be nice to take a day off and go to the park with Sarah.

“Okay. We’ll be there. I’ll bring two pizzas and maybe a tray of cookies.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Miller. That’s very appreciated. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Mrs. Sanders. See you tomorrow.”

We hang up, my lungs letting out a gentle sigh of relief. I’ve never gotten a random call from Sarah’s school like that except for when she’s sick, and I always seem to be assuming the absolute worst about everything. Truthfully, I think it’s the left over apprehension I feel from my wife’s passing.

***

“Hi, I have a pizza order under Joel,” I say as I look around the pizza shop, the teenager at the register sighing at me.

“Your total is twenty-five dollars even,” the boy replies flatly.

My fingers fish into my wallet, handing him cash as a woman comes up beside him and places my pizzas on the counter. The boy takes my money as I grip the pizzas in my hand, the warmth from the bottom of the box radiating through my palm.

The door to the pizza place dings its bell as I leave, making a b-line for my idling truck that has Sarah in the passenger seat with a tray of cookies on her lap.

“Here, let’s put these on the floor,” I say as I set the pizzas onto the ground beneath her. “Just don’t step on ‘em.”

“Foot pizza doesn’t sound good to me, dad,” she giggles, making me laugh with her. “I’m excited to see my friends!”

“Will Rachel be there today?”

She nods enthusiastically as we head toward the park. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be. Everyone was really excited about it yesterday in class. I know some people couldn’t get their parents to go, though.”

“Well, at least Rachel will be there,” I beam at her before turning my eyes back to the road in front of me.

“And us,” she replies fondly. “I didn’t think we’d be able to go. You always work on Saturdays.”

“I know, but I thought it would be nice to just hang out in the park with you for the day.”

“Thank you,” Sarah says softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

Pulling up to the park, I see several children and parents everywhere. It looks like her entire class has shown up, the thought of Sarah being able to see all her friends making me happy for her. I’m really glad I decided to not get that overtime in today. She deserves to have some fun.

Sarah carries the cookie tray as I carry the two pizzas, opting for just cheese and pepperoni. My eyes land on the principal, guiding Sarah towards her with my palm on her shoulder. She’s so ecstatic that she nearly ran away with the damn cookies.

“Hello, Mr. Miller. Sarah,” the principal says warmly. “You can set everything down here,” she gestures to a table.

“Hey, Sarah,” I hear from beside me. “Is this your dad?”

“Yep!” she replies. “This is my dad, Joel!”

After setting the pizza down, I turn with an outstretched hand, my breath being caught in my throat as I take in the appearance of Sarah’s new teacher. She’s absolutely stunning, and my god she looks young. Sarah’s last teacher was easily in her mid-sixties, but this one can’t even be thirty yet.

“Hi, Mr. Miller. I’m Sarah’s new teacher, Ms. Y/l/n, but you can call me y/n.” Her voice is feminine and light, making goosebumps trail across my skin as our palms connect.

“Please, call me Joel,” I reply with a quick lick of my lips.

Sarah toddles away, joining several of her classmates on the playground.

“I’ve only been teaching them for a day, but Sarah is the most well-behaved,” she leans in to whisper. “And no, I haven’t said that to every parent,” y/n giggles.

Her little laugh forces me to join her, my nose being caressed with the scent of her perfume from her standing so close to me.

“Well, I’m glad. She was the easiest child, really.”

“Do you have any others?” she asks, her eyes on mine, completely melting me.

I shift, doing my best to focus on the conversation rather than her effortless beauty. “No,” I smile. “Just her.”

“I’m an only child, too,” y/n grins, her eyes flitting over to the playground briefly before meeting my gaze again.

“I wasn’t lucky enough,” I tease, watching a laugh pass her delicate, rosy lips. “I have an older brother.”

“I always wished to have a sibling, but my parents were never successful when trying again.” Her voice fills with melancholy. “My mom had ovarian cancer, so it was pretty impossible to conceive after me. I was a miracle baby.”

My brows fit together, that familiar anxiety blooming in my chest at the mention of cancer. I place my hand on my sternum, as if I’m trying to catch that feeling and push it down.

“I’m sorry,” is all I can muster out to say. “My late wife passed away from cancer when Sarah was one.”

Why did I say that? I’ve never spoken about her to anyone other than family before, but for some reason, I felt the need to tell y/n.

Her hand reaches out and rests on my bicep. “I’m so sorry,” her gentle eyes soften even further. “My mom died when I was ten, and my father just passed away last year.”

“My god,” I respond with disbelief. “You’re way too young to have lost both of your parents already.”

Y/n’s eyes track to her hand that rests against my arm, quickly removing it as she clears her throat. “Oh, they were older when they had me, but still not old enough to pass away.”

“How old were they, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She smiles. “I don’t mind at all. My mom was only forty-six when she passed, and my dad was older, he was seventy-six.”

“They were a few years apart, then?”

“Sixteen,” y/n laughs awkwardly. “Everybody always finds that so strange, but they didn’t see how in love they were. I never saw them fight once.”

“That’s beautiful, y/n,” I smile warmly at her.

She blinks up at me, tucking her gorgeous hair behind her ear as her body shifts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so depressing.”

“No,” I laugh lightly, shaking my head. “You didn’t. It’s life.”

Her lips spread with that breathtaking grin, my eyes all over her face before a voice rips me from my waking dreaming at her parted mouth.

“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n! This is my mom,” the little boy turns to his mother. “Can I go play now?”

The woman laughs, nodding.

The boy dashes away, joining the rest of the kids on the playground. My head bobs around a bit, looking for Sarah until I finally spot her, seeing her go down the slide with a vast grin on her face. I smile fondly at her, feeling guilty that I was so caught up in a conversation with her teacher, that I forgot to check on her.

Y/n and the mother of the little boy begin chatting, so I quietly make an exit, sitting down at one of the picnic tables with a full bottle of water in front of me.

My fingers twist the plastic top open, the crack of the seal popping as I press the bottle to my lips, tossing it back for a drink. I can’t help but gaze at y/n, taking in her figure with complete admiration. She’s wearing a yellow sundress that comes down to her knees, pairing it with a white cardigan over the straps. Her feet are donned in ivory flats that match the unnecessary cardigan she has on her arms.

It’s Texas, and it’s hot as hell out here. Maybe I’m being a bit of a pervert, though. Her skin is absolutely flawless in every sense of the word, and I just want to see more of it. I haven’t been this taken back by a woman since I first met my wife. That thought consumes my chest with guilt, a sharp pang internally piercing my abdomen.

My hand grips my stomach through my shirt, the tips of my fingers digging into the fabric. My wife had told me that she wants me to move on once she passes, and I’ve tried, but I haven’t found anybody. I haven’t even slept with anyone since her, only a few dates here and there that didn’t even end up with a kiss.

“Joel?” a voice interrupts my racing thoughts. “Are you okay?”

I look up to meet the eyes of y/n, soft and vast with concern. “Yes,” I answer quickly. “Just a little light headed. I think I need to eat.”

Her gaze loses a bit of its scrutiny. “Let me grab you some pizza or something. Do you have low blood sugar?”

I laugh. “No, I don’t.”

Y/n briefly leaves, returning with two slices of meat lover’s pizza on a paper plate. “You seem like a meat guy.”

“I am, actually,” a laugh pushes past my lips, my anxiety slowly easing away as I grab the plate of food, taking a bite. “Thank you.”

She sits adjacent from me, a piece of pizza in front of her as well. “You’re getting some color to your face again,” she chuckles.

“Did you really think I was so old that I had diabetes?”

Y/n laughs loudly, her head thrown back, exposing her kissable throat. “Diabetes isn’t always an old person thing, Joel. You could have type one, which you could be born with.”

“You didn’t really answer my question,” I tease.

Her cheeks flush with a hint of maroon, a satisfied smile spreading onto my own face. “No, I don’t think you’re old.”

“God, I feel it. I’ll be forty-one this year, Sarah will be ten. It’s crazy.”

“I’ll be twenty-five, and I’d like to complain about how I feel old, but I feel like you’d just judge me,” she beams vastly.

“I’d never judge you,” I say gently. “I was the most scared of turning thirty, though. It was like I should’ve been planning my retirement already.”

Y/n laughs heartily. “That’s how I feel now. I only just finished college a year ago, and I’m already a teacher. When will I need to plan my retirement?”

I chuckle. “Not for a long time.” My eyes flick between hers, “What made you want to be a teacher?”

A fond smile parts her lips. “My mom was a fourth grade teacher, and I wanted to be just like her.”

“She’d be proud of you,” I say before even thinking. “Sorry,” I instantly apologize, shaking my head. “It just came out.”

“No,” she beams wide. “Don’t apologize. You’re very kind, Joel.”

“Hey, there you are,” a deep voice echoes throughout the shaded gazebo.

An attractive, tall man saunters over to y/n, giving her a quick peck on the cheek that she awkwardly leans towards him for.

“Oh, hi. Joel, this is my fiancé, Sam. Sam, this is one of my student’s parents, Joel,” y/n says with her delicate voice that reminds me of wispy summer clouds.

“Nice to meet you,” Sam nods as he shakes my hand, sitting down beside y/n.

I can’t help but feel disappointed by the fact that she isn’t single, not like I had a chance anyway. Her fiancé does seem to be older though, appearing closer to my age than to hers. He has brown hair with a red tint to it, and bright blue eyes that pin you into place. It’s not hard to miss his light Scottish accent, or his incredibly toned physique. If this is her type, I definitely never had a chance.

“Oh, fiancé,” I say nonchalantly. “Congratulations.”

Y/n shifts as Sam wraps his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss against her temple. “Thank you,” she says, but not without a hint of disdain in her tone.

“I’ve been trying to urge her to start planning the wedding, but it’s been a year since I proposed and still nothing,” he says humorously.

“And I’ve been focusing on my career,” y/n replies sharply, but with a clear faux smile on her face. “So, I haven’t had time for much else.”

“Hire someone,” Sam says through gritted teeth. “It isn’t difficult, darling.”

My head moves around the incredibly uncomfortable situation in front of me, spotting Sarah on the swings beside Rachel. Part of me wishes there was some sort of excuse I could use to leave this picnic table, but I’m afraid I’m glued here against my will.

“Ms. Y/l/n?” a student comes up beside her, “I brought these for you.” The girl hands her a bouquet of flowers, y/n’s entire face lighting up.

“Oh, my goodness, Felicity! Thank you so much!” She places her nose against one of the roses. “I love roses. They’re my favorite.”

The girl bashfully giggles as she walks away, the mother coming up to speak to y/n.

“She insisted on getting you flowers,” the mother gushes with enthusiasm. “I’m happy to see the kids love you so much after your first day. Clearly you’re a wonderful replacement.”

“Oh, thank you so much. I didn’t feel like I did anything special, but I’m glad they like me. They’re all so amazing.”

The mom smiles fondly as she walks away towards the pizza table, grabbing herself some food.

I honestly feel guilty that we didn’t bring anything specifically for y/n. The thought didn’t even cross my mind, and now I know I have to make up for it. Perhaps I could send Sarah to school on Monday with something special for her. Would that come off as creepy, though? That’s the last thing I want to do, is freak her out.

Sam stands up and walks away, adding some fruit onto a plate from one of the platters.

“I’m really sorry you had to witness that,” y/n says quietly. “I specifically asked him not to come.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I understand,” I smile politely. “He seems like a nice guy.”

Her eyes wander over to him, a forlorn expression spreading onto her perfect face. “Yeah.”

I catch a glimpse of Sarah running past me, completely sweaty as she dives her arm into the cooler to fish out a bottle of water for herself. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me an excited wave as she chugs her drink. I wave back with a small laugh, watching as she tosses the empty bottle out and runs back to the playground with her friends.

“She adores you,” y/n says softly. “Everybody introduced themselves in class yesterday, and she talked about you.”

A warmth spreads in my chest. “Really? What did she say?”

“She just said that your name is Joel, you work in construction, and that you’re the best dad in the world.”

My cheeks ache as I smile, laughing slightly. “I love that kid so damn much.”

“I can tell,” y/n replies with a vast grin. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“Please, I’m the lucky one. When I told you she was an easy kid, I meant it. I’ve had to raise her alone for the last eight years, and it’s almost like she knew I was a single parent. She never made anything difficult for me,” I laugh, “well, until recently. Her growth spurts have made her so tired and now it’s almost impossible to get her out of bed for school.”

Y/n laughs, the sound being music to my ears. “Oh, god, I don’t blame her. I’m the same way and I’m done growing.”

Our laughter mixes together, being cut off by Sam’s sudden presence again. He plops down his plate of fruit, only having one piece of pizza beside it.

“Did I miss something?” he asks with an arched brow and a grin.

“No,” y/n shakes her head. “Just saying it’s hard to get me out of bed in the morning.”

“Oh, I have my ways,” he says suggestively.

My brows raise as I shift uncomfortably on the bench.

Y/n slaps his arm as she scowls at him. “Jesus, Sam, this is my job. There’s kids here, can you please be quiet?”

“Oh, come on, they’re all the way over there. They can’t hear me.”

“The parents can,” she continues to scold. “Please.”

“Only Joel can hear me, and I don’t think he minds,” Sam looks pointedly at me.

“Oh,” I flick my eyes between them. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“See?” he beams. “Relax, darling. This new job has you all uptight.”

Y/n crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man beside her. It’s honestly making me uneasy to be around them any longer, so I decide to stand, excusing myself to use the bathroom.

As the sun greets my skin, I let out a sigh of relief, a million different thoughts running through my mind right now. Almost all of them are focused on y/n, wondering if I’ll ever see her again in person after today. What possible excuse could there be for me seeing her? She’s Sarah’s teacher, and there’s no logical, normal way to see her outside of school unless I asked her out, but she’s already with somebody.

It’s hard to hide my disappointment at that fact, but truthfully I think she’s out of my league, even if she apparently is interested in older men. Sam and I are polar opposites in all the worst ways. He’s toned and ripped with colored eyes and hair, while I have the softened dad bod with shaggy hair that’s dark brown mixed with a bit of gray, and normal, non-alluring brown eyes. If there were ever a man to compete against for a woman’s affection, it isn’t him. He would win every single time.

I’ve never gone for a woman who’s more than five years younger than me, and y/n is sixteen years younger than me. I’m reminded of the story she told about her parents, and the fact that they were sixteen years apart. She spoke so fondly of them, that clearly she would never have an issue with being someone my age.

God, who am I kidding? She’s engaged and far too stunning for me. I need to quit my daydreaming now before I end up in a fictional spiral about a woman I barely know.

As I leave the humid bathroom, I see Sarah over at the playground, running around in the sand barefoot with Rachel and another girl chasing her. I make my way over, placing my hands on my hips as I watch her sprint away.

“Playing tag?” I ask, Sarah not even looking at me for a second.

“Yep!” she answers quickly. “Don’t distract me!”

Laughing, I walk away, heading towards the table that I’m dreading to sit at again. To my relief, y/n is alone, gazing down in her lap as I sit across from her again.

“Where’s Sam?” I ask her, looking around.

“Oh,” her eyes meet mine, “he’s on a call for work.”

“What does he do?”

“Physical therapy,” she shrugs. “Boring.”

I laugh. “Not nearly as boring as construction.”

“Please,” she scoffs, “I’d much rather hear your work stories than his, I’m sure. He just tells me how he gropes women all day,” y/n laughs.

“Professionally gropes,” I jokingly correct her, resulting in an effortless giggle. “At the end of the day, he comes home smelling a lot better than me, I promise you.”

She chuckles, gazing at me. “Thank you for talking to me so much, Joel. I was nervous I’d be lonely at this thing.”

“You’re very easy to talk to, y/n, you don’t have to thank me.”

There’s a moment where we sit silently, just looking at each other, and I’m wondering if she feels the same spark between us as I do.

“Okay,” Sam’s voice causes me to jump slightly, “sorry about that, I was just answering a client’s questions about what exercises they can do at home.”

I nod. “No worries. Physical therapy sounds like an interesting job,” I smile, y/n giving me a dramatic eye roll.

“Thank you!” he answers loudly, looking over to y/n. “See? I told you it’s not boring.

There’s a light thump beside me on the picnic table, seeing a sweaty, panting Sarah beside me. “Daddy, I’m tired. Can we leave?”

I chuckle, nodding. “We can leave whenever you want.”

“It’s too hot out.”

“Then we can leave.”

Sarah smiles up at me, turning to look at Sam and y/n. “Who are you?” she asks curiously.

“I’m Sam, Ms. Y/l/n’s fiancé.”

“Fiancé?” Sarah looks to me. “That’s before marriage, right?”

I laugh, nodding. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s good. She’s a very nice lady.”

Y/n laughs, shaking her head. “Thank you, Sarah.”

I stand off the bench, Sarah standing with me. “It was lovely meeting you, y/n. And Sam,” I nod.

Y/n stands, shaking my hand. “Thank you for coming, Joel, and for staying to talk for so long.”

“Of course,” I smile. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

Sarah and I walk back to the truck, my mind reeling with everything y/n and I spoke about. I’ve decided that there’s nothing stopping me from seeing that beautiful woman again, even if I have to call off work just to stop by the school. I’ve been meaning to just to spend lunch with Sarah, anyway, and now I can see her and y/n at the same time.

I need to see her again.

****

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #smut #yn fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou smut

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violetsareblue-selfships · 1 year

Note

(19 - on top of a scar/injury) with diluc OR (5 - crown of the head) with xiao — you can either do both or just pick whichever you feel like doing :D

ty~ so this post will be the diluc drabbles - I'll post the xiao ones tomorrow~

on top of a scar [(diluc receiving) 413 words]/injury [(April receiving) (411 words)] - two drabbles hehe

Diluc lets out a quiet groan and melts against the mattress, the feeling of her hands slowly soothing his muscles almost making him tear up. Just the fact that she'd been concerned enough about him when he made an idle comment about being sore that she offered to give him a massage in the first place…

He swears he falls more in love with her every single day. He doesn't know how he got someone so sweet and caring to fall in love with him, and it makes him feel like the luckiest man in Teyvat.

Slowly, the stiffness of his muscles -- one borne of too many late nights fulfilling his other duties to Mondstadt on top of those for the winery -- starts to ease and he's growing more relaxed than he's been in a long while.

"There… that's doing the trick…" April murmurs quietly, letting out a soft laugh. "It'd be better if I had your vision though. I don't think ice is what you need right now…"

Diluc lets out a quiet chuckle. "Mmm… maybe not, but that feels good either way," He says and she hums in acknowledgment.

Her hands drift down from his shoulders once there are no more knots and she slowly works down his back. As she does, her eyes settle on the scars on his upper back. She doesn't ask about them despite her burning curiosity. It's not her first time seeing them and she knows he'll tell her about what caused them when he wants to.

Instead, another urge wells up in her, one that's much more innocent and that she's able to act on. So once her hands have moved low enough to allow this, she leans down and starts slowly pressing kisses down the line of one of the scars.

Diluc breathes in sharply, knowing what she's doing. His next breath is shaky, though he's not quite sure why.

Maybe it's the feeling of tender affection on something that has only represented pain until now. Maybe it's the proof that she cares about what happened even if she doesn't ask him aloud.

Or maybe it's the fact that it's her lips against his skin. Or some combination of the three.

Either way, he doesn't move, doesn't ask her to stop (because he doesn't want her to), and soaks up her attention like a sponge. All while thinking once again of how lucky he is to have someone like her.

The fireplace crackles softly, keeping the room warm and comfortable despite the growing chill from the breezes outside. The room is silent apart from that, neither of its occupants wanting to say a word. One being focused on his task while the other is too busy staring at him.

Diluc's touch is gentle as he wraps the bandage around her wrist, every movement of his fingertips against her bare skin sending small shivers down her spine. It doesn't take much longer before he's securing the bandage and making sure it won't slip and that it isn't too tight.

"There," He murmurs quietly. Before either of them says another word, he's gently pulling her wrist closer and dipping his head down so he can brush a gentle kiss over the cut through the bandage.

April's cheeks heat up at the touch, at the warmth that spreads through her body at the sweet gesture. His eyes flick up to meet hers and his lips curl in a soft smirk as he kisses it again, a little stronger but still gentle not to disturb the healing injury.

"Why so surprised, dearest?" He murmurs, amused at how flustered she's become off of something so simple. "I've heard that it helps injuries heal faster."

April giggles softly. "And I didn't think you were the type to believe something like that, 'Luc…"

"Mm, you'd think so. Call it a remnant from my childhood that's never quite left," Diluc says, pulling away and looking at her with love and a bit of concern. "Now, was that the only injury?"

"Mhm. Thank you for patching me up, love," She says softly, glad that she has him to come back to after her commissions, especially when mishaps happen like during today's.

"It's no trouble. Just another duty of mine," He says with a wry smile as he gently squeezes her hand and moves to stand up properly. April smiles a little at his words and watches as he repacks the first aid kit and puts it back in its usual spot.

"Take it easy, dearest. I'll be back with some hot cocoa, alright?" Diluc asks and April giggles. Despite how minor the injury might be, he's always like this when she gets hurt. She nods her head and he leaves the room, leaving her to spread out on the couch to wait for his return.

Still, her heart feels warm from that whole exchange. Her Diluc really is quite sweet, isn't he?

#self shipping #self ship #f/o #romantic f/o #fictional other #thanks for the ask!#i'd melt for you 💖🍷#mika✨#my writing

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thepoeticmillennial · 1 year

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Don't get too high...

When Bryson first came out, he had a way with his words in such a way where he made just about every female fan and listener feel as though they lived in a penthouse in LA graced in lace curtains, and aesthetic furniture with the only care in the world being what latte to drink for the day... The main character of her world parading around as either an aspiring model, designer, or make up artist. lol. Bryson had a way with words (and still does) in such a way where your soul urged for his lyrical, story telling music to become a binge worthy TV series that took you away from everyday life and caused you to dwell in the dialogue and pick a favorite character to grow with. "Don't get too high." will always be one of my favorite songs by Bryson for so many reasons. I've always been a fan of Bryson's vulnerability in his music. The song margins a young lady he is clearly smitten by... in such a way where you begin to imagine the aura and aesthetic of this young lady for Bryson to vulnerably bare his soul the way he does in the song.

Its clear this young lady is in a city that never sleeps, a city some vacation to while most dwell in. He urges her not to get "too high" and goes on to serenade her smoothly... "I'm the only drug you need to get you through it." As a writer who is also visual... the lyrics are fun, a bit sensual... But at the same time, telling of many beautiful women who tend to pull off the alluring aesthetic while deep down inside... needing substances to cope. The melodic tune is a tune you can both ride to on a late chill night... and relate to. We've all had late nights where the drinks began to pour and we wanted to say no... but everything within us wouldn't let us. We all have used something to cope... self soothing. The song in a sense, reads the hearts and spirits of the GenZ and millennial culture. Music that you can both relate to and nod your head to in my opinion, should always stay in rotation.

"Turned up at the function, you can barely function." Simply put, this song will always be one of my favorite songs by Bryson. As a music enthusiast you could go as far as to say this song was Bryson's personal diary... "Hanging with them other n*ggas. I can barely stomach." It seems as if he bares his soul and feelings in such a way where he can't hold it in no matter how much he wants to, in such a way where he's so inclined to this person that he HAS to let her know... "I can and will come by, and keep you up." One thing is for sure... music should always be visual, more or less art to the ears, and tell a story. As one of my favorite artists... Bryson has always had that in the bag. This song is melodic, gives a night drive type of vibe. This song can be described as poetic, lyrical, and timeless.

What's your favorite Bryson Tiller song?

Written by Tynyta A. Kizer

#brysontillerfans #musicreviews #musicblogger #Brysonfans #Musicblogger #brysontiller #musicblogs #musiclovers #ilovemusic #summermusicplaylist #summerplaylist #summer #bloggers #blogsandreviews #songblogger

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ramblingsofuncertainty · 1 year

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Old Entries

Ramblings

Sunday

3:15. The silence is nice. I can talk to Allah swt and I feel safe at this moment. The stillness of the night isn't stifling. I don't turn on the fan even though it's hot. I like the silence. My thoughts are quite too

7:10. I don't want to get up but I've already jumped off the bed. Need to get breakfast ready. Need to take medicine. Need to hurry hurry hurry.

9:15. Panic and dread.

11:50. Relief. Exhaustion.

2:42. I had this really intense need to be talking about it with Saadia. Can't call her cos she's probably sleeping. And this urge might become less and then I'll make excuses to myself to not call her. But I wish we were exhausted and lying in her room ranting. Or maybe not even that. Just being quiet. She'd be watching something stupid like NCIS or suits or something and I’d be squished in her giant beanbag (territory Id claimed long ago) I remember the neck ache I got when Id been squished in it too long. Her mom would poke her head in and shake her head at us and bring us pasta. Or chicken bread! Man, I miss that chicken bread. The squishy peices of corn that would pop in your mouth and the hot buttery peppery chicken.

She knows me inside out. I don't want to burden her right now. She can't do anything about it being so far away.

I'm happy, reminiscing while writing about her, and it hasn't made me sad, in a surprising turn of events. I think my circuitry is messed up. But happy accidental serotonin is still serotonin and I'm grateful.

Monday

Didn't write the whole day. Brain feels like a fog. No emotions. I just need sleep.

Tuesday

9.:40. Stopped to have a conversation with a squirrel. It seemed interested, but then decided it didn't have the time. Squirrel business called. And I was late for class

9:43. Needed to make a call and that was it for the day. Cue the mind haze. All the emotions all at once. And none at the same time.

Music to shut out the thoughts. Helped a bit.

P realized something was up. As much as I felt cheery and awake at the end of the day, but she knew something was off. I couldn't put a finger on it til she said it. Despite trying trying to distract myself, I still felt like there is a pulling, scratching inside. I'm craving something and I don't know what it is. Bit it's like a dull sort of scratch, like the echo of a thing

Thursday

4:57. Missed fajr. Feel like shit. Had nightmares, woke up feeling more exhausted than when I slept. I haven't been able to dream for like five or six years. But nightmares are becoming a thing now.

8.25. Tried to wake up but the day already feels exhausting and I don't want to deal with it

9:20. Fell asleep and woke up in a panic. There's so much that needs to be done. I have so much work. How can anything feel exciting when there is always anxiety and panic that's flooding my brain.

9:55. My joy in realizing they've made eggs for breakfast today is fleeting. The eggs are burnt at the edges and dry. I still eat them, my mouth feels like what I imagine it must feel like to wake up from surgery, desperate for water. I'm being ungrateful and I dont like it. It's food. Why am I being like this?

Cant feel much today.

4:50. Decided to take a nap. Woke up in a panic again because I thought I'd slept for three hours instead of one. Body hurts and I don't want to get up. I'll procrastinate more and then the day is over and I've done nothing.

8:05. Feeling good. Found myself humming something. Surprised enough to want to write it down. I feel like I can get something done. Making tea, then getting down to work. I feel like I'm in flow. Hope this stays!

P.S. it didn't stay. Something happened and all sense of time and work and sanity was gone. (Writing this on Thursday)

Friday

I broke the streak today. I didn't want to write down anything the whole day so now I'm writing it at the end of the day. I woke up with a numbness in my body. Had nightmares again. It's getting both more difficult and easier to get up. I can't explain it.

There's this short stretch of trees lining the football field that blooms with these hanging yellow flowers that always snaps me back to the present and gives a couple of seconds of relief everyday. Today it just made me annoyed (there aren't any blooms but the walk usually is still pleasant) because I realized the absence of that relief and that is what jolted me out of my thoughts. Not the relief but the lack of it.

Everything felt off today. It's exhausting living with myself.

I came back and slept. I just want to sleep. Forced myself to eat. I can't work. I can't work. I can't work. I'm trying. I have class at 6am. I don't want to be. There's too much noise. Writing all these things down is making everything more concrete. It's the fig tree again. From Sylvia Plaths Bell Jar. But the roots shriveled up and wilted and the trunk is hollow too. No possibilities lying blackened at my feet. They are a distant memory, haunting the air with a rotten smell.

(P.S. (writing this on Saturday: I feel disconnected reading what I wrote last night. I don't want to linger on it. That person was there. So was one who was not in that state. I feel like a conduit, in this moment, reading the previous entries, they feel like versions of me that exist and existed, a product of the things happening to me at the time)

Saturday

Today I felt disconnected, outside of my body. Woke up tired again but almost mechanically, went through the motions of getting up and getting through the day.

I'm relieved though. Beats yesterday in any case.

Saturday/Sunday:

(A summary): I did not open this up to write anything for the past two days because I was in a good place after a very long time. I passively tried to understand what triggered it but couldn't. Coming back to why I didn't write. Writing things down forces me to confront what's going on in my head and usually that untangles whatevers up there and when the thoughts become clear, they are usually not very pleasant. And so I wanted to live in denial for a little bit longer.

Sunday

9.09: Panic again. but dull. I have to work. There might be eggs.

11.06: Mediocrity scares me. I don't want to be a blob of nothingness. I have worlds inside of me, I have been so many me-s, they were all people with thoughts and emotions and intelligence. I feel like I have lost grip of so many of those versions of myself, and of the potential that they all had. Now everything I do feels like I am dragging myself through a thick sludge of effort, pushing pushing pushing. My head feels dull and more empty than it used to be.

The air feels thick. Dead, no crispness in it, just a lingering heat and smell of dead grass

Monday

4:40. Unraveling. The air is nice today, feels fresh and crisp. I can smell the freshly mowed grass of the football ground as a linger on my way back

5.:15. A summary of today: Flow state. I found myself quite unexpectedly in a state of flow, like everything was aligned and I was getting things done. Things seemed to be rolling off of me, I just kept working like nothing mattered and I actually felt happy with the work I made, and when I made something not so good, it didn't stop me. It felt like I side stepped a ditch that would have pulled me in, and I was just able to brush it off so easily and move on. I felt like a person. I felt complete. Like otherwise there's always echoes of me slightly lagging or moving ahead and I'm just trying to keep track of the pieces to move together and making the effort of carrying all the scrambling, falling, scattered pieces keeps me occupied

6:20. A word out of place. And it started this echo that kept reverberating and bouncing back and forth off the walls of my mind. And it shook everything out of place. Like a tiny tremor that upsets the precarious balance that had been a happy accident.

The crows and their noise just before maghrib remind me of Karachi and the breezy evening air, that smells like dust and sticks to your face on the sheen of oil covering your sticky skin at the end of a long day. The smell of gasoline and petrol heavy and clinging to your clothes, coming home with you

Tuesday

My thoughts are not my own. Not writing today.

Wednesday

I like this moment. Its the end of the day and I linger going back. My walk is deliberately slow and I focus and at the same time watch without seeing, the details of the accumulated dust on the sidewalk. The cars passing by seem slow and fast at the same time, their noise amplified for some reason. The sound is grating but I cant hear it even though everything feels heightened.

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queerstudiesnatural · 2 years

Text

#ignore this bc it is almost 1am and that's way too late to be complaining about anything #you know what they say if you are dissatisfied with your life after 9pm just wait until the next morning #any bad thoughts had after 9pm don't count #but anyway.#i just feel like. a lot less enthusiastic about spnblr than i used to #and spn in general #which scares me #bc who am i without my hyperfixation #also the community on here has become my family #but lately it's become too much and i've been feeling the urge to pull away #from spn from tumblr but also from the people #which sucks because my brain is in between two mindsets rn #the ''spnblr is our home and we are in love with everyone here'' mindset and the ''this is too much run away now'' mindset #i sort of have um. bad stuff. trauma related to these parasocial or semi parasocial relationships (basically i got really attached to #someone online once and then they died and i couldn't mourn them bc i wasn't actually in their life. also got broken up with by my online #best friend of two years at the same time) so now whenever i see myself getting too attached to people online i'm like nopeeee gotta go #i'm sort of there now like i can feel the protective layer of emotional detachment descending upon me #but also i still need a hyperfixation to live and i can't see myself moving on from spn anytime soon #so it's like i'm both tryna be here and not be here #anywayyyyy just a wee rant that you are free to ignore. like i said it's 1am so this doesn't count #tw death mention

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kaijime · 3 years

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watch your mouth

includes. osamu miya x f!reader

cw. corruption kink, virgin reader/first time, osamu wants to breed u <33, dubcon, kitchen sex? [it’s in his shop so?], fingering, pierced dick [prince albert piercing], vaginal penetration, size kink, praise kink, tummy bulge, breeding kink, slight dumbification, creampie, thigh slapping?

wc. 3k

a/n. my piece for @seita’s corrupt-a-virgin collab, thank you for letting me join!!

osamu miya likes to think he follows a strict routine. he wakes up early, shows up for his job, works, and goes home, waiting for tomorrow to arrive and the cycle to repeat itself.

but ever since you've entered his restaurant, you've become a part of his routine.

he sits behind the kitchen counter, watching in admiration how you tend to the customers. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring at your ass, but it’s not a lie if he doesn't say it right?

"samu?" there's that nickname again, the one you deemed him ever since that interview for the part time job. "this customer says you forgot to give her a part of her order"

"no i didn't"

"yeah, look" you approach him with the receipt in hand, pointing to a small part of the inked writing. "see?"

he can't see. or at least he can't see the receipt. he's too focused on you, pressing up against him. he knows you're not at fault, but you couldn't be that innocent.

you couldn't be innocent enough to not know the things you were doing to him, the things you were making him feel, the urges that blossomed with every lingering look and longing touch you left on his body. you just couldn't be.

right?

yet, even when his idiotic brother dropped by his shop and shamelessly started flirting with you, you, it seemed like you didn't catch onto what he was doing.

"what's the freakiest place you've ever had sex in?" the fake blond asked, and osamu would've stopped him, if he wasn't curious to hear the answer for himself. still, he doesn't drive his full attention away from the counters he's been wiping, seemingly focused on the simple task.

you chuckled awkwardly under your breath. "that's inappropriate, tsu-"

"c'mon, tell me" he bumps his elbow against yours "can't be that bad"

"no i-... i've never uhm..." osamu can tell you're stumbling and stuttering to find an answer, so he lends you a few helping words.

"'tsumu” he calls "will ya stop harrassin' my employees?"

"'m just talkin' to her samu, no need to make a big fuss" he downs the last of his food and leaves, supposedly in a sudden rush.

it doesn't seem like it’s been hours since then, but the moon hangs low, and the crickets sing outside the window in spite of the late hour. despite the passing of time, not a single word has been said between you and your boss about the conversation you had with his brother, and every minute that passes only seems to thicken the tension between the two of you.

"shit" you mumble, mostly to yourself. you didn’t expect him to shoot up from his place, bent down searching through the lower cabinets.

"watch yer mouth" he says, an evident frown on his face, where he would once smile at you and nod in greeting.

"sorry" you reply, lip pouting slightly while you cleaned off your finger with a paper towel "just got a papercut" the blood tints the paper red and you wince at the stinging sensation.

"here" he holds out his hand to examine yours, even though you already cleaned most of it off, there's still a slight trickle of blood. he wipes it out with the towel he always hangs on his shoulder.

as he cleans your hand, he can't help but think about how it'd look so pretty wrapped around his cock. it would certainly bring more relief than his fist after all this time he's spent thinking about you while stroking himself late at night.

it’s not the first time thoughts like these cloud osamu's mind, but this time he's a little less discreet about it. he stares at your hand like he wants to devour it, and you'd be a fool not to notice it.

"samu?" you call out to his faraway mind, and he snaps out of his thoughs, loosening his grip around your hand.

"right" he mumbles, clearing his throat "sorry"

"thank you" you almost whisper, if he wasn't so close to you, he probably wouldn't have heard it.

he turns and goes back to the cabinets, thinking about what you answered earlier. you'd never what? had sex? were you that uncorrupted?

it would make sense to him, and it would help ease the pain of seeing you let his brother flirt with you like he wasn't even there, but those are all selfish reasons he wants to believe, and he's too scared to ask.

apparently not scared enough.

“what were ya talkin’ about with my brother” he asks, nonchalant as ever, making your breath hitch as you turned around hesitantly.

“we were just chatting” you say, the slightest purse on your lips that tried to relieve the nervousness of the conversation.

“sorry about that” he apologizes. “he can be annoyin’ sometimes”

“oh no, he wasn’t” you lie, clenching around the table cloth you held in your hands. even if the talk had been going smoothly, you still felt on edge after the question his brother left you thinking about. “he was really friendly”

“really?” his hands find comfort in his pockets, and if you’d looked close enough, you would’ve seen the slight smirk in his lip, one that indicates how eager he is to hear what you had to say. “then why didn’ you answer his question?”

if only you knew how much it mattered to him, to know if you were a pretty untouched virgin or not. osamu miya likes to go for girls like you, college girls who look for a quick cashgrab as a part time employee, innocent little girls who unknowingly fall for his charms and next thing you know he’s ruining them with his cock.

but you feel different, you feel delicate. like a pretty piece of porcelain he might break if he continues to toy with you under his calloused hands. yet, he can’t help but think about how perfect he finds your body. perfectly ripe and ready to be filled to the brim with his seed, the perfect age to be plump and round with a child. his child.

“does it matter?”

oh, it does, especially when he pins you against the counter and grips your cheeks between his thumb and his index finger. “samu?” you ask, displaying that innocent look on your face he’d grown to hate.

“i told ya to watch yer mouth” his hands roam down your body until they grab at the back of your thighs. “now jump”

“samu i- i’ve never done anything like-“

“i said jump” hesitant with your actions, you jump and wrap your legs around his waist as he settles you on the shop counter, where he takes off your pants and runs a finger over your clothes slit.

“please” you grip his wrist and beg in hopes for him to stop, but he slaps it away, pinning them behind you with his other hand. he slides your panties down your legs and plays with your clit, circling the nub with his fingertips and watching as your expression changes from one of fear to pleasure.

“please what?” his breath shudders against your neck, where he nuzzles his head and finds comfort in your scent. he slowly inserts a finger into your hole, scanning your face and searching for any signs of discomfort, despite him practically forcing you into this position.

you’re not strong enough to answer him, too lost in the way his fingers feel inside you. you’d been too afraid to do anything by yourself, but god did it feel so good when you gave yourself up to him, slightly bucking your hips into his thrusting fingers and arching your back into his frame.

he’s fond of every little expression you make, the bite of your lips, the clench of your thighs around his hand, and the tilt of your head, willingly granting him access to the skin, all for him to mark, bite and suck. all for him to claim as his.

“d’ya like it?” he asks, putting another one of his fingers to use inside your tight walls, feeling them clench and suck his fingers back inside every time he was close to taking them out.

“yes! yes! i-i... mmh!” you can’t even finish the sentence, not only because you’re sobbing and clenching around his digits uncontrollably at the foreign yet pleasurable sensation, but also because his lips suddenly enclosed yours in a hungry kiss.

he didn’t even have to put up a fight with you, pleased to find you let him do whatever he wanted with your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours in a passionate clash of lips, until he pulls away at the feeling of your hips wildly bucking against his hand, a sign of your inevitable orgasm approaching.

“feels weird ‘samu! ‘s-‘samu please!” the implication of your sensations being new to you made his cock strained against his pants, threatening the thick fabric of his jeans to snap if he grew even harder. the tight knot in your stomach finally snaps when he curls his fingers, sending you into ecstasy as your vision blocked out and you moaned uncontrollably loud.

still, after everything, osamu hasn’t forgotten where he is, and he knows his shop isn’t a decent place to lose your virginity. so he puts you down with shaky legs and slips up your panties, catching you before your trembling thighs can treason you and make you fall.

“do ya have a car here?” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and puts a hand on your hip, guiding you over to the door which he locks before he continues to walk to his car. the dim lighting of the parking made this the perfect spot, if he were to fuck you in his car, no one would see it. but he has self control, or at least he tells himself that.

“no, my friend usually picks me up” he hums an answer and opens the passenger door to his car.

“i live a few minutes from here” he explains “wanna come over?” he asks, fully aware that he’s taking a leap of faith and you could just refuse him. but that’s not the case, and he’s more than happy to see you hesitantly get in his car and put your bag in your lap, covering yourself as much as you can since he ‘forgot’ to give you back your shorts.

the short ride to his house is awkwardly silent, and terribly torturous. his hand had found home in your thigh, and it had only sent an ache between your legs like you’d never felt before, prompting a clench from your thighs every so often.

he wasn’t lying, he only lived ten minutes away from his shop, but the distance seemed so much longer when his lingering touch would leave you high with the need for more.

“you ready?” he asks, holding the door open for you again as he waits for you to take his hand and get out of his car. he’s quick with hoisting you up and wrapping your thighs against his hips, carrying you to his doorway and leading the way to his room. there, he gently placed you on the bed and stripped off his clothing, taking off the apron he should’ve taken off at the shop, his shirt, his pants and—

“eager?” he can see the wanting look in your eyes, he’d be a fool not to notice it. his voice only startles you out of your thoughts, enough to make you stand up and take off your shirt as well, now fully exposed to him if it weren’t for the bra covering up your tits. there’s only so much he can hold back, but right now, with those pretty puppy eyes you unintentionally give him, he just can’t help it when he takes off your bra and slightly suckles at your nipple, circling his tongue around your perky nub and watching your face warm up in embarrassment.

he takes you to his bed again, this time while he plants kisses all over your neck. he’s hungry with the way he nips and bites at the skin, leaving a trail of teeth marks that would need to be covered up in the morning. in the morning, because right now, you couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else other than the way he rutted against you.

his cock already seemed big when he hadn’t taken off his briefs, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he slipped them off and rubbed his tip against your clit, right?

he was huge, thick tip dripping precum, with a girth that looked too big to be real, pulsing against your pussy. he positions it against your drooling hole, using your slick to lube up his tip and feeling— metal?

you sit up, leaning against your elbows to see the prince albert piercing that runs along his tip, metal jewelry threatening to slip into your pussy, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“i-it won’t fit!” you kick and shake your thighs around him, only for him to put your ankles together and fold your legs over his shoulder, pinning you down and slipping in the pierced head of his cock. you wince and gasp at the sudden stretch, silenced by his mouth clashing against yours, eagerly nipping at your bottom lip, desperate to drink in all your saccharine moans.

“good girl” he praises, slipping in inch by inch of his cock into your tight virgin walls “fuck- this tight little cunt is suckin’ me in, want ma cock princess? yeah? gonna stuff ya full of me ‘til ya can’t even speak, you’ll just be a dumb baby for me”

“hurts!” your words only drive him closer to shoving himself in one smooth thrust, but he holds back, he sees how much you struggle to take barely half of him, he wants to make this good for you to. he wants to make your first time your best time, the one you’ll remember and think about if you ever fuck another man. he wants to mold your insides to fit his cock perfectly, he wants to train you to be his perfect little girl who won’t find another way to get off if she doesn’t have his cock, he wants you to depend on him to always make you feel good.

“‘s ok princess” he leans down, folding you into a mating press as he kisses your neck and slips in the last of his cock, covered in a thin layer of white sheen. “my good girl, creamin’ around me” he mumbles against your ear while he starts a slow pace into your pussy, carefully rutting his hips into you, almost afraid he would break you. “so pretty”

“please!” you sob, tears stream down your face despite his carefulness, it would break his heart, but he can feel the way your own body betrays you, clenching around him and pulling him in for more of the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls. “so big! c-can’t take it!”

“sure ya can, look” he puts a hand to your tummy, guiding you to do the same as he puts his hand over yours. there’s a small bulge, that appears and disappears whenever he thrusts in and out. “you’re takin’ it so well princess, keep yer hand right there” his other hand starts working tight circles against your clit, making you throw back your head at the sudden sensation.

“no! if you do that i-!”

“what are ya gonna do? cum? clench around my cock like yer doin’ right now every time i praise ya?” you fist the sheets to your sides, anything to relieve the aching between your legs and the tight knot that keeps forming in your stomach again.

“please don’t!” you desperately paw at his wrist, only to be slapped away and for him to increase the speed of his cock, rutting into your with more force. suddenly, the head of his piercing hits a different spot, one that left you gasping for air and arching your back against the mattress. “ah! right there- right there ‘samu!”

“yeah? you like it when i fuck ya right there?” he parrots, angling his hips at the same spot over and over, abusing it until he’s sloppily thrusting into you, on the verge of cumming and spilling all his load into you. “my pretty girl, moanin’ like a bitch in heat, all because i’m makin’ ya feel good”

“yes ‘samu! please please, please m-make me feel good! wanna cum, please!” fresh tears roll down your cheeks as you scream and beg for him, unwillingly rutting your hips against him as you cum around his cock, your high too much for your sensitive body as you whine uncontrollably when he doesn’t stop. you’re too overstimulated to say a word, gone too dumb on his cock to even realize that you’re babbling little nonsense words about how good you feel, and how much you want him.

“dumb lil’ thing” he says, giving one sharp, final thrust before he empties his load between your legs, deep inside you, careful not to move you too much in fear of his cum spilling out of your clenching hole.

he’s right, you are a dumb little thing, because as soon as he pulls out you’re desperately bucking your hips, blindly searching for him in hope he would fill up the sudden emptiness in your pussy, unintentionally spilling all his hard work between your thighs.

“no!” he grunts, slapping your thigh and grounding you to the mattress as you wince in pain, dark color blossoming at the skin where he’d placed the spank. “look what you’ve done, bad fuckin’ girl” he says, the sudden tone shift sends a tinge of fear all over your body, and you’re reduced to nothing but a kin to a stray puppy, a terrible look of guilt in your eyes, even if you don’t realize what you’ve done wrong.

“look at the mess you made” he mumbles, flipping you over and placing ass up “now i’m gonna have to fill ya up all over again”

©️ kaijime 2021 | all content belongs to kaijime, do not modify or repost

#tw. corruption #tw. dubcon #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #osamu #osamu miya #osamu x reader #osamu x reader smut #osamu smut #osamu scenarios #smut #hqintheclub

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irrationalthot · 3 years

Text

sensual

Their day was long, and so was mine. They came to bed after me; work was keeping them late recently and frequently, and I hadn't realized how important our nighttime chit chat was to me until it was gone. It wasn't anything substantial, no, it was simple. About our days, plans for the weekend, grocery shopping, venting. Little things. Little, almost mindless things which always led to a good sleep with their arms wrapped around me or our backs pressed together in comfortable serenity.

Going to bed together was a stroke of good luck I didn't know we had.

I miss talking about the grocery list with them while I work through my skin care routine. I miss hearing their voice dipping with complaints about your coworkers, or hearing it rising with an audible, contagious smile when they tell me about a lunch they'd had with an old friend.

At the very least after a long day, they'd come to bed before I'd drifted off to sleep. I'd feel their weight shift on the mattress, listen to their breathing as you settle in, and indulge in the comforting familiarity of their scent.

But lately life had other plans - it got in the way and kept us apart - work, family, other obligations which made our schedules constantly conflict. We share a home but I missed them so truly and so painfully that going to bed alone made a lump grow in my throat.

It was a new misery to wake up with them already getting ready for another day, knowing full well we probably wouldn't get at least the night together. That aside from texting, the most I'd hear from their lips would be "see you tonight".

That night when I pulled I to find your car already in the garage, I decided I'd missed them enough. Quite enough. I could do without this heartache.

They looked tired, stressed, and maybe a bit grumpy - or perhaps too tired to be. I hoped I'd be able to fix that when I moved to straddle their lap, the light, breathable fabric of my skirt pooling around your thighs.

Looking at them I scan those stunning eyes for any sign of protest. Maybe this was too much - maybe life was stressful and tiring enough without my neediness pressing against them.

I'm relieved to find the opposite; They look at me with a spark of recollection - like I was a breath of fresh air. Warm hands find my hips, easily and effortlessly. Even so, I feel the urge to double check.

I mean to ask "Can we?" or "Are you sure?" but what instead spills out of me is a pathetic, humiliating mumble:

"I miss you."

And they give me the best three words I could hope for in return, "I miss you too."

We melt into eachother after that. My arms snake around their neck, theirs coiling tighter around my waist in that warm, steady hold they know I love - with a bit of possession to their grip that sends chills up my spine. I kiss them so long and so tender - like they'll float away if I stop, and they return in kind. I felt them sigh against my lips as if they were waiting to kiss me like this.

Not a kiss goodbye, or a habitual peck. A real kiss. Sensual, romantic, and maybe a bit demanding.

Strong arms squeeze my waist, and warm hands start to wander, tracing my shape and lingering over my backside. The smallest squeezes encourages my hips to roll, and once they do, smooth and slow, I can't seem to stop.

I'm kissing them until we can barely breathe; I'm running my hands along their shoulders, feeling familiar body heat growing beneath my touch and the small ridges of their binder near their shoulders. I'm hungry, I'm starved, and it's getting harder to hold back.

My grinding becomes less smooth and more erratic and they laugh. That arrogant, pitying laugh that makes my blood boil in anger and arousal and god knows what else. I know they're just as desperate, just as needy, but I also know how much they love to tease.

"Have I been neglecting you, baby?"

Of course they haven't - it's life, it's work, it's time. It's not their fault. But yes - yes I've been neglected, and I miss their touch, their lips, their hips rutting against mine. I miss it all, and all I can do is whine and nod. I feel a hand slip between my legs, thighs warm from the fabric of my skirt and steadily building arousal. Two fingers slide along my panties, and I'm nearly drenched.

"... oh, sweetheart," they coo, before latching onto my earlobe, nipping and suckling, making my breathing hitch and my face stain red. "don't worry, I'm here,"

Their promises are driving me wild. I silently promise never to let it go this long again. I forgot how addictive these butterflies felt, how I feel my walls clenching for something that isn't there. How empty I feel. I'm getting impatient.

I tug off my blouse, hearing a few threads pop in my rush. I'm stopped soon enough by soft lips on my cleavage, worshiping and nuzzling and kissing...I can't help but pull their head closer and let out a soft, dreamy sigh. They nip me from time to time to tease me - too hard and I pinch their neck, earning a playful, faux threatening growl. Before long I'm giggling and their smirking - before I can savor the sweetness I'm rolled onto my back.

I watch them like a hawk with their harness, not bothering to undress. I try to slip out of my skirt, but I'm stopped with a look.

That look. The one I haven't seen in weeks, that makes me squirm and blush and bite my lip in anticipation. Strapped, they kneel between my legs, smoothly pulling my panties over my thighs, down my calves, and tossed aside. Despite my skirt and my bra, I feel more exposed than I have in days.

They crawl over me, their eyes alive with fire and lust, and I can feel how hard they are against my thigh. They give me one soft, feather light kiss...not nearly enough, and they know it. They smirk.

"Please," I breathe, forgoing any dignity I might have left. "..please, just. I need you."

I feel them pressing against me. Teasing. Dragging. Sending the smallest, most tempting tingles up my spine.

"Alright," they breathe into my neck, slowly dragging their tongue along my throat. I'm rewarded with that beautiful stretch, deeper and deeper, until our bodies are flush and warm and one. I shudder, and I cling to them so tightly. I babble stupidly how much I love them.

"... I'm here baby, just for you."

#my thots #🌻#long post #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #femme4butch #femme4nb #just another fantasy.....#I'm so. touch starved.

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writingmysanity · 3 years

Text

Born to love you

Prompt: March daily prompt + requested prompt

Day: 5 (Yes I know I am late, sue me) + "I love you, and I know you don't think so, but you deserve to be loved."

Word count: 2720

Pairing: Jaskier x Fem!reader

Requested by @dancingwith-sunflowers Here you go lovely, I am sorry about the wait. I hope you enjoy it.

A/N: as per usual, unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. Is anyone willing to let me blame them for my mistakes so I don't have to take rap myself?? Other requests are coming as quick as I am able.

The song is "born to love you" by Lanco I do not own it in any way.

Sighing wistfully, you look out over the field below, rows and rows of sunflowers reaching as far as you can see- brilliant petals echoing the warmth of the sun, heads waving in the midmorning breeze. You've made a game of it, trying to listen for the sounds made between the stalks, guess which animal has gotten lost in its maze, once more.

Two birds- a bluebird and a bright red cardinal swoop in first, their songs being carried away with the breeze. Smiling, you watch them dance in the air before they disappear beyond the keep of the trees and the branches they call home.

A deer, you realize, seeing the doe glance around before sliding between the stalks with a grace you only could dream of having. Behind her, much to your excitement are two shadows, toddling along after her. One stops before they're all the way hidden by the stalks to munch on a patch of grass. Its mother huffs at it, urging it to hurry. The cover is their best defense. Suddenly, filled with mirth, it bucks around, bouncing into the stalks calling loudly, playfully, earning a laugh from you.

Sighing again, you stand. You've been out here much too long, neglecting your chores. Humming contently, you start to hop down the side of the hill, lifting your skirts slightly as to not trip on them on your way down.

“Ooh, ankles. Scandalous. Tell me, love, when did you become so risque?” the teasing tone comes from behind you. Spinning on your heels, you nearly fall backward, squeaking when two arms grab you first, securing you against their chest. You can feel the way his laughter rumbles in his chest as he cradles you. Looking up, you meet those familiar brilliant eyes that remind you of the clear blue waters of that beach your father took you to as a young girl.

“Jaskier,” you gasp, swatting his chest. This only made him laugh harder, clinging to you, his head falling to your shoulder, eyes filled with the same mirth you saw in the fawn not long ago.

“You startled me!” you chastise as you move to hug him back, your breath evening back to normal, burying your face in his chest. Humming in amusement, he runs his nose along your shoulder fondly, grinning at how the gentle touch makes you shiver.

“Ah, I am sorry, dear heart. I'll try to not scare you like that ever again,” he promises, making you snort. Of course, he will. It's one of the few things in life he holds dearest. So he's told you, anyway.

Pulling away, he smiles down at you, hands moving up your arms to come and cup your cheeks before he leans forward to nuzzle his nose to yours, eyes drooping in bliss. Giggling, you tug him closer.

“Kiss me, you fool,” you tease, fingers wrapping in his doublet. Another laugh bubbles to his lips as he closes the gap, the feeling of his laughter on your lips tickling you, making you smile into the kiss.

“Ah, how I've missed you,” he sings, pulling away.

“My face?” you tease. It's no secret that Jaskier had a fondness for pretty faces. He frowns a bit, shaking it off, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Indeed, your face, your smile, your pure as sunshine-” you laugh, swatting him gently.

“I get it, I get it. You missed me” he softens.

“I have, indeed, my sunflower.” wrapping his arms around you again, he gives you a final squeeze before pulling back to offer you the crook of his elbow to hold. Gleefully, you take it, only just now noticing his packs and his lute.

“Come to stay, have you?” he pauses in grabbing them.

“Only if you'll have me.”

Softening at the bard, you bend to help him grab the bags, ignoring his protests. You are aware he can carry them all, but you don't care. His protests die quickly as you haul them over your shoulder.

“Why?” he all but whines, hand resting on the crook of your elbow as to help you down the steeper part of the hill without stumbling.

“Jaskier, in all your life you have carried your things alone. Here, with me, you are never alone in carrying anything,” you state, nodding, ignoring his stare as you skip over a rock. He swallows, trying to not read too much into the simple statement. Had it been him, it would have been a declaration of love. With you, he wasn't so sure.

Later that night, after getting Jaskier settled and the chores done, which he insisted on helping with, you find yourself resting together before the fire, shoulders bumping against each other lightly as you joke as if no time had passed.

“Have I told you of the time Geralt took on the Griffin?” he questions, waggling his eyebrows playfully. Shoving his shoulder with yours, playfully, you laugh.

“Yes, Jask. Many times.” the look on your face, he swears he sees it. The way you look at him, but you turn away, gazing into the fire.

“We should head to bed soon,” you whisper after a minute. You feel his stare but refuse to face it. You're afraid of what you'll see there. What you always see there, but refuse to acknowledge is for you. He just nods.

“Of course, it is getting late,” he whispers, glancing out the window. The blackness seems denser now that he's huddled against you, with the fire. “If you'll remind me where you keep your blankets and a pillow, ill go about making my place” he beams, patting the ground beside him. You frown.

“Jaskier,” you sigh. “You are more than welcome to share my bed. It will be cold tonight.” spring is here, but the last of the nightly chills have yet to fade. He hesitates before nodding, watching you stand slowly, wincing at the small pops of your discontented joints at the movement.

“I don't want to take advantage of your hospitality,” he whispers, standing quicker than you remember him being able to move, his hand resting on your elbow to keep you from stumbling backward, a warm smile crossing his features. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

He is standing much closer than your heart can take for the moment, swallowing as you take a step back, having to let your head hang back to look at his face.

“Keeping score, are we?” you try to joke, ignoring how your skin burns where he's touched. He laughs softly, unwilling to break the atmosphere.

“Only because I am so far back on the tally, dear heart.” he hums, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, your eyes fluttering closed, embracing the warmth that radiates from it.

“I won't argue your point,” you muse, an easy smile passing your features as he leads you back to your tiny room in the back of your home. It's not much, but it's always been more than enough for you. But, seeing Jaskier peeling the blankets on your bed back before crawling in to make himself comfortable you realize that it had always been missing one thing.

Something.

Or someone.

Looking up at you with a gentleness you’ve only seen when he's sure you're not looking, he opens the blankets for you, his other hand extending as an invitation.

“Coming?” his smile is infectious.

“Yeah.” you hum, crawling in after him, curling into his frame, you tangle your legs with his to get more comfortable. You rest your head on his neck, taking the opportunity to breathe him in, his scent has always been slightly intoxicating all on its own. Jasmine, camomile and something you have only been able to attribute to his life on the road, even though you're unable to pinpoint the source. He shivers at how your breath fans over the skin there, sighing contently, arms wrapping around you.

“Sleep well,” he whispers into your hair, cuddling closer his breathing slowing as he falls asleep almost instantly.

Despite the warmth, and hearing his heartbeat next to your ear once more, you can't sleep. You can't quite toss and turn with how his limbs restrain you, but you're not uncomfortable. You're eyes just refuse to close.

After an hour or so, you gently wiggle yourself from his hold, sliding out of the room as quietly as possible. Once in the living area, you take a deep breath, moving to poke the fire, breathing life back into the flames. For a while, you just watch them, as they dance.

If you watched close enough, you could see the flames take shape, like two figures dancing in the light.

You're unsure how long you sat there, staring into the fire. Maybe it enraptured your heavy eyes so well because you were picturing Jaskier in those flames, spinning you with all the warmth and passion of the fire. Or you were just too tired to notice much of anything else. Either or, you didn't hear the footsteps behind you until they were accompanied by his voice.

“Love?” his voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep. Jumping in surprise, you turn to face him, biting back the small gasp. His hair is awry, sticking every which way, much different than the well-manicured look you're used to. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he blinks down at you.

“Why aren't you in bed?”

“Couldn't sleep,” you confess, shifting over for him to plop down next to you.

“Why didn't you wake me?” he frowns, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. You force yourself to not pull away. You relish in the contact but you cant help the wave of nausea at the thought of all of the other women he's been like this with. He sees it on your face, his frown deepening.

“Sunshine?” you shake your head, looking back towards the fire.

When in doubt- ignore it. Ignore the feelings. Ignore the pain.

“What's wrong?” he shifts, moving to kneel in front of you, fingers lifting your chin to make you look at him.

“Nothing,” you curse the thickness of your voice, the way it cracks at the end, tears gathering at the corners. Blinking them away, you take your chin from his grasp, taking a shaky breath. “Nothing at all.”

“It’s not nothing, my love.” he sits back on his heels, hands limp in his lap as he looks down at you, concern etched into his very frame. “Is it something I did? Something I didn't do? Please, let me fix this.” his voice is little more than a whisper as he lowers down to your level once more, eyes begging. Those bright blue eyes have brought you more comfort than anything else in your life, and you're the reason they're watering.

“Jask-” he shakes his head quickly, hands coming up to cradle your face.

“No minimizing it, sunshine. The real reason.” you can hear his heart break, seeing you like this. It didn't make any sense. You meant nothing more to him than every other woman who he helped keep warm at night. “What IS it? I can't fix what I don't know, my love.”

Closing your eyes, you choke back a sob.

“Why do you call me that, Jaskier?”

“Sunshine?” he asks confused, tilting his head, hands tightening just slightly so you cant pull away from his hold again.

“My love,” you answer, keeping your eyes closed so that you don't have to look at him.

“Because I love you,” he states it as if it's the most well-known fact known to man as if it's the most common of knowledge. Your laugh is quiet, half a sob, broken and wet.

“You love everyone, Jaskier.”

“This is different,” he insists. “Please, look at me.” slowly, you wretch your eyes open, watching as the tears that had been gathering in those beautiful eyes finally fall. His face is illuminated by the firelight, the tears making his eyes look like crystals. His voice is strained as he continues, wet as he licks his lips nervously.

“What is this about?”

“How many other women have you told that you love them?” you wanted your voice to be strong, clear- but it wasn't. He could hear the pain, the way your voice cracked on the word you struggled with the most.

Love

“None,” he swears. “Every other woman I've ever been with, I won't lie, it’s not a small number” you chuckle weakly, you knew this of course. You aren't mad about the number. “But I've never been in love with any of them”

His voice is small, weak, begging you to hear him, understand.

“Lust, infatuation, loneliness… but never love. I love you,” he declares leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, eyes boring into yours for a moment before sliding closed, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“You,” he whispers, so close you can feel the heat of his breath, tears sliding down his nose, landing on your cheek and lips. “You have my heart, please, I need you to believe that.”

“Why me?” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Do you want the list?” he hums, lips brushing over the corner of yours. “Or the song?” he muses, the idea of him having both amusing you.

“Both,” he laughs this time, his frame shaking as he holds you still.

“The song I can do at the moment, the list... It's gotten rather long. I have it written down. Can it wait until the morning?”

You nod, taking a deep breath, nuzzling your nose against his, the smell of salt lingering in the scent you love so much.

“I'll hold you to that.” he nods.

“The song isn't done, of course. You're a difficult muse.” he teases, leaning back again, readjusting. Snorting, you lean against the chair, watching him lovingly. He doesn't move to get his lute or his notebooks where he's known for having written everything.

This song isn't for the populous, for nobles, or anything in between. It is for you, and you've pushed him out of his comfort zone since day one. So he figured he'd try one more time, the tune reverberating from his chest as he hums the first several notes.

Born again in a church where the steeple's white

The preacher preach the Book of John and my momma cried

Meanin' of life was in verse 2

Didn't make sense 'til I found you

I could search the world from south to north

But I've already found what I'm lookin' for

Wherever I go and whatever I do

I was born to love you, I was born to love you

Lookin' in your eyes, yeah it's all so clear

Every time you smile, I know why I'm here

Wherever I go and whatever I do

I was born to love you, I was born to love you

I was a wild child between lost and found

Then you spoke my name, it was a sweet sound

Rescue kiss and you pulled me in

All my life baby, where you been

As the last note fades into the night, he opens his eyes, watching you for your reaction. You're sitting there, staring at him, face soft but unreadable before your lip wobbles, reaching for him. He all but lurches forwards, pulling you into his lap, happily folding as you pull him into a kiss, sighing against your lips.

“Good?” he whispers, nipping your bottom lip nose bumping against yours accidentally. Laughing softly, you nod.

“Good.” he smiles, lips trailing along your cheek and down your jaw. “You mean that?” he nods, lips sliding across the sensitive skin below your ear, nipping there.

“I've been rotten, dear heart, at showing you just how much you mean to me. But I swear on my lute,” he muses a bit knowing it would amuse you at the same time marking the seriousness of his words. “I love you. With every bit of myself, I love you. No matter if you think so, you deserve everything, all of the love and affection. And I will spend the rest of my life working to give it to you.”

He pauses, swallowing, nuzzling your neck.

“If you'll have me.” taking a deep breath, you smile, tugging on his shirt gently.

“Kiss me you fool”

Tag list: @errruvande @thesleepy1 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @queenxxxsupreme @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @open--till--midnight @one-eyed-captain-kinky

@seidenbros

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

#jaskier fanfiction #the witcher #jaskier #jaskier x reader #the witcher imagine #jaskier imagine #jaskier the bard #jaskier x y/n #spring #sunflowers #love #witcher jaskier #jaskier x you #jaskier x oc

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spideyspeaches · 4 years

Text

Heart made of glass ↬ t.h

A/N: Beta read by the lovely @hollandcrush !! <3<3

Request (Summary): can you please write one about Tom, who is on the filming process of cherry and has some emotional problems because he feels that his character is already part of his life, so he comes home very angry and in a bad mood, so he just snaps and creates a big fight with the reader and just says things that he obviously didn't meant, you know very angst, and at the end just very fluff.

Hope you like this anon! Lemme know your thoughts heh <3<3

Warnings: breakdowns, slight vomiting but it’s not graphic. I’m not in any way romanticizing or sexualising breakdowns.

WC: 2k+

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Tom was an ambitious guy. He took his roles seriously, no matter what his character was and who he played. It was an admirable trait, the way he both enjoyed his work and worked hard to earn a high place in such a place as Hollywood.

You always took pride in how amazing and accomplished your boyfriend was, your heart swelling whenever you heard his name being mentioned in events and interviews. You enjoyed how he tried to diversify the movies he worked in.

("I've been playing the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man for so long, it's about time I play someone different now." He once said in a Jimmy Kimmel interview. You were watching from the audience, smiling as the audience roared in affirmation.

"Well looks like you took quite a big leap from playing a superhero." Jimmy said, smiling at the audience with his paparazzi smile.

You knew the question was scripted, quite harmless, but you still noticed how his shoulder stiffened, his smile not wavering once.

"Well yeah, I used to be a superhero and now I'm a heroin addict." He joked, winking at the audience as he ran a hand through his nearly hairless head.

He cried himself to sleep that night, burying his face in your chest as you shushed him. )

It always worked in his favour, with the incredible support his family and fan base provided. And he was always so humble about it.

Filming Cherry, however, was way different than he thought it would. With filming Cherry came consequences that he didn't necessarily like. He knew what he was bringing on himself and his family when he was first introduced with the script.

(Contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually give out spoilers, it was just small promotional stunts that kind of took over as his reputation to spoil minor details.)

The process was intense, getting into the mindset of "Cherry" was taxing, and people were beginning to notice it in him. He was more restless, tugging at his non existent curls when he thought no one would notice.

He was more clingy, more appreciative of your body and you, letting you know that there was no sexual intent behind his acts of caressing your waist at random times. You didn't notice the change in his behaviour.

He had always been like this, watching you with the most gratifying gaze a man could muster, his pretty brown eyes like globes of whiskey, staring at you with a muffled expression. You didn't notice.

There had always been a cutting edge to his voice, you knew and adored it. Behind the British actor who played Spider-Man, he was your Tom. Your Tom who gave you forehead kisses and baked cakes with you and made silly playlists that reminded him of you and you of him, your Tom who worshiped the ground you walked on, your Tom, your Tom and your Tom.

(Sometimes you envied that he was an actor, so good at hiding any emotions he felt, it came easy to him, just another fake emotion like he was a face behind the camera.)

He was never aggressive towards you. Never. Even on tough days, he was soft, caring and understanding to the point where it made you mad, immediately making you feel guilty. He worked so hard and yet here you were, blaming him for being nice, never standing up for himself.

"Uh, Tom, Tom stop, wait." You grunted, pushing his shoulders as he scrambled away from you at your discontent.

You held his face, his breath hitching, hyperventilating as he tried to get himself together.

Ever since he had started filming Cherry, he had been away from you. And now that you were finally here, he had been all over you, making love to every inch of your skin, like it was a holy grail he had to find, caressing your warm skin under his fingers making you shiver as his nimble fingers wandered. It was the intimacy, sexual and quasi-sexual, that made you realise, that there was something wrong.

Sex- it had been a constant in your life other than Tom. But of course, you didn't live on it. It was but a fuel that strengthened your relationship, it was about discovery and showing your vulnerable sides. It was a reminder of the coffee dates and baseball matches. It was loving, gentle and raw, like a gentle breeze caressing your face.

But this, this was different. And you noticed. This, what you had been doing, it was fucking. It was aggressive and needy and it felt good, but at the same time, it felt different.

"Baby?" You asked softly, trying to meet his eyes in the dark lit trailer. It was late, way past filming times, the only time you got to see his vulnerable side.

You should have been in his hotel room, but you were in his trailer instead. All alone in the all encompassing darkness, it made your heart stutter beats.

"Baby speak to me. What's happening, who's doing this to you?" You ask once again, holding onto him firmly this time, his squirming frame making you loosen your hold. You didn't care that you were naked, he had already seen it all.

Fiddling with the rough sheets, he huffed a heavy breath. And that was all it took for the dam to break.

"Tell me how do you feel baby, you're starting to scare me." You urged. All you got in response was his muffled sobs. Pulling him forward, you let his head rest on your bare chest, rivulets of tears sliding down your warm skin, almost burning you like acid, his tiny hair tickling you, a very contrasting feeling.

"I can't do it. I can't take it anymore." He sniffed, wrapping his strong arms around you, shivering at the contact. It was a cold night in Cleveland, and you were naked and he was crying. You were berating yourself for not noticing.

"What can't you take anymore?" You hold him, tracing circles on his buzz cut hair, just the way you did when he had his curls.

"I feel like I'm becoming him. I don't like it at all, I try and try but I can't." He sobs, shoulders hitching with each sob. You felt your heart break, the sounds of his cries sending daggers into your skin.

How could you have not noticed? The lively sunshine of a man was almost an empty shell. The interviews with former drug addicts had been excruciating for you, pity, disgust, sympathy and every other sinful emotion swirling in your mind.

You couldn't believe that you hadn't thought about Tom, of what an effect it would have on him.

"Bub, listen to me, carefully," you said, shushing him as he continued to look at you, teary eyed and red nosed, snot dripping out of his nose,"you listen to me. You're strong and resilient and nothing like him okay? He's not you. You're Tom Holland. You're brilliant and brave and amazing okay?"

"But I don't feel that way!" He said, his aggressive stance surprising you, "he's- he's…"

"He's what?" You asked, a little too impatient. Muttering a sorry, you rub your palm on his cheek, kissing the soft, moist skin.

"I don't feel so good." He croaked, getting up suddenly, making a run for the washroom. You rushed after him, watching him as he heaved into the toilet. Rubbing his back, you muttered affirmations, curling besides him as he sat on the ground, his back to the cold wall.

You got up to switch on the lights, feeling his hands tugging yours, a soft "stay" coming out of him.

"Better?" You asked, feeling him now against your collarbone.

"I shouldn't be this affected, this- this isn't fair. I'm overreacting, I'm sorry I worried you baby I swear I didn't mean to-"

"Shh, Tom first of all, you're not overreacting okay?" You smiled, kissing his nose, moving towards his brows and his forehead, "It's perfectly reasonable. The role you're playing...It's not exactly picking daisies. Fuck you're playing a heroin addict Tommy, a broken soldier with PTSD, a breakdown was inevitable. It only shows that you're human."

"Really?" He smiled, it looked more like a grimace, a plea for reassurance.

"Yes, really." You said, booping his nose, eliciting a giggle from him,"now, you better go to bed mister, you have an early shoot don't you?" You playfully scolded, kissing his lips, laughing as he carried you bridal style.

"Tomorrow will be better." You whispered, kissing his eyelids, already closed, chest moving rhythmically as you counted his pulse, making sure he was completely asleep before slipping on your clothes, covering him with the thin quilt.

***

"Is everything okay on set?" You asked casually, watching the crewmates work tirelessly in the daylight.

You were standing next to Ciara on a prop jeep, fiddling with the water bottle held in your hand.

"Hmm, as okay it can be with two people playing drug addicts." She shrugged, looking at you with a small smile.

"Are you okay?" You asked, turning to give her your full attention, remembering your boyfriend's breakdown yesterday.

"It gets… intense at times. Some scenes are hard to play, but we're okay. Mostly." She answered, taking your water bottle and chugging the water.

"I'm not a therapist, but you can talk to me, you know?" You smiled, holding her shoulder as she gave you a bashful smile.

"It's been tough on Tom. He's more aggressive, nearly had a breakdown during a scene." She said.

"Yeah, that.. that happened yesterday too."

"It was time, a person can only hold so much right?"

"Yeah."

You pondered her words, wondering if you could do anything to curb this.

"I think I need help." He said one day while you were eating dinner. Harry, who was sitting next to you, looked up from his plate, giving you a knowing look before clearing his throat.

"I'm gonna get some water." He said, waving awkwardly at you and getting up. You took that as a cue to scoot closer to Tom, running your hands through his camel hair.

"That's very brave of you hun, asking for help." You smiled, kissing his cheek softly. You felt him smile, sliding closer to you, holding you by your waist.

"I learnt from the best." He muttered in your hair, kissing your forehead.

You felt his love that day, felt the way he ran his smooth fingers on your waistline, sliding across your thighs with care and softness you hadn't felt in a while. He was healing. It was a process, it took time but it happened.

***

You were walking across the library, his hand in yours, your hearts beating in silence.

"How was your appointment?" You asked, shivering in the cold air. You rubbed your palms together, bringing your jacket closer to your chest, huffing the cold air.

"It was good, much different from what the media portrays. She even showed me this meme she thinks you would like, look." He said, bringing out his phone to show you the saved meme.

You laughed at his eagerness, kissing his lips as a final gratification.

"Well it looks like you're having a great time. You have another scene left to do today in the evening so we better scram." You reminded him.

You always did that, remind him of his schedule, reminded him to take a breath when he felt like he was drowning. You reminded him of home and what he had to look forward to.

"Why can't we have a lazy day today?" He whined, kissing your neck, making you giggle as it tickled.

"You know you can't do that hun, you already took three days off." You snickered, poking his sides.

"Well that sucks. I just want to spend my day with my girl, is that too much to ask?" He smiled, kissing your forehead, one hand holding yours, swinging back and forth, the other holding a large cup of coffee in a tight grip.

You reached to loosen his fingers, taking a sip, slurping loudly, making him laugh. You decided you liked this laugh much better, it was breathy and free, a melody to your ears.

You noticed how he was more relaxed and back to being that ray of sunshine. Back to being your Tom.

Thanks for reading! also as a side note- here’s a similar fic @itsallyscorner !!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #spideygirl writes

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spidxysense · 3 years

Text

Back to You | 14

Summary: He broke your heart, but you’d always love him. Two souls that not even the universe could tear apart, even if you wanted it to at times.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Timothee Chalamet

A/N: Yay I updated! I hope you guys like this one, I was stuck for a bit there but once I sat down and got to typing, I really finished it in one sitting. I was just planning on updating it bit by bit lol. Let me know what you guys think, Love you!!!!!!

Word count: 2,591

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

In a few short months of your movie premier with Timothee, you were finally able to release your double-release album, and the response was massive, to say the least. You'd been getting calls from different show hosts' upcoming awarding ceremonies. Still, you couldn't for life in you accept, all except for the Oscars, which your manager told you was a must since you'd be attending in the first place anyway and that performing at the Oscars was a big deal given that you also starred in films and shows.

You turned in bed, facing Timothee's sleeping face. He had been in town for a week now, back on a break from filming in Hungary. Then he'd be back to film in England in a couple of weeks. After your talk on your premiere night, it was to an agreement that whatever you had going on was just two people exploring and experiencing things with someone they had strong feelings for. There wasn't a need for a media circus to cover anything about you two except your movie.

You move his arm, placed it over your waist, and sit up slowly in bed, making sure not to stir Timothee. The jetlag must be shit. You stretched your arms in front of you, glancing at the clock that read 2:07 AM. You get up, grabbing Timothee's white shirt from the floor, and, putting it on, walking over to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, touching some of the reddening parts of your neck courtesy of Timothee, and then you notice the toothbrushes… there were two. From this single thing alone, it had you catching everything about the bathroom, how there were two towels, one black, and one violet, which just so happened to be your favorite color.

You walked over to the nightstand beside the bed, putting on your skinny jeans, turning on the lamp, and noticing his wallet. Inside was a picture of you. Opening the closet doors, the ones hung up were various suits, jackets, and even dresses you've worn to events. Why didn't he just send these back? Why would he let you keep your stuff in his house?

You drag your feet downstairs, noticing small details you'd been blind to before, like the large dog bed positioned by the door despite Timothee telling you he could only ever get himself to take care of a tiny dog. You noticed the colored mugs and bowls, a deep dull navy blue color, the same as the ones in your house. Suddenly, everything feels as if it's moving too fast. You both agreed there was no relationship, and there was attraction, but why does his home feel like it's become yours as well?

You sit down, taking a few deep breaths before deciding to stand up and grab your cardigan from the coathanger, opening the front door and closing it behind you as you waited for a taxi to bring you to the more active part of the city at night.

You just couldn't deal with a relationship right now. You couldn't let your heart get broken again, so you have to find ways to distract yourself.

The car stops in front of you, driving off into the night and dropping you off by a club that Troye agreed to meet you at.

You and Timothee had an attraction, but you both agreed there was no label; ergo, there was no intimate relationship even though you both have done everything together. No boyfriend means you were free to do whatever you wanted without worrying about him. But if you were honest with yourself, this was more of you suggesting something you already knew Timothee wasn't too keen on agreeing with but would just because he thought that having something with you was better than absolutely nothing. You saw Troye waiting out by the back entrance for you when he spotted you and called you over. Almost like clockwork, every time you snuck out away from Timothee, everything in you screamed to turn back, to clear your head, and for the first time, you listened.

You motioned for Troye to go ahead and sent him a text that you'd probably just head home because you weren't feeling well. He gave you a knowing look before looking like he finally approved of your actions and sent you a quick and short 'Good." text, and headed inside.

You walked around for a while after that. Soon it was already just about 5 in the morning, and even though you wouldn't let yourself come to any conclusion as to what you even wanted out of this almost relationship with Timothee, you still found yourself back at his front door.

You took out the keys in your pocket, slowly opening the door only to find Timothee sat on the couch, his knees up to his chest as he stared off into space, either deep in thought or trying to keep himself awake… maybe even both.

When he saw you enter, a soft smile formed on his face, and for some reason, that made you smile too.

"Hey, you." He spoke softly.

You sat down quietly next to him, instantly he set his feet on the ground and reached over to embrace you in a hug, the familiar scent of Timothee that never left you that evening even more evident… It felt and smelled familiar, and right now, while your mind was a mess, familiarity was what you needed.

Timothee lifted his head, worried, "Hey, are you alright?"

You sighed, "I don't want to hurt you."

He murmured quietly into your neck as he peppered kisses, "You could never."

You pulled away, feeling guilt in your bones, "Aren't you even a little bit frustrated that we've been like this for months? That even in private, we can't even say that we're in a relationship?"

You gave you a reassuring look, "We both wanted this Y/N."

You sat up, "Except we didn't… You didn't." You corrected yourself, "You're bringing your mother to the fucking Oscars next month because I told you we couldn't be seen together at carpets for Pete's sake."

You stood up, starting to pace back and forth, "We have to coordinate outfits for the sake of not matching, and we never go out because I can't be seen with you in fear that we're going to get found out. I'm a terrible fucking person, and I don't understand how you're so okay with this."

Timothee was grinning, sleep still in his eyes, "I'm okay with it because I love you, Y/N."

You froze in your spot, "You what?"

He nodded and got up, walking over to you. The blue light of the early morning peaking through the curtain made this moment feel and look ethereal, "I said I love you, Y/N. I've known that I loved you from the moment I met you." He kissed the top of your head as he embraced you.

You shook your head, "No, no, no, you don't. I'll even list more shit I've done to you just so you understand how and why you don't love me."

Timothee chuckled, "And yet despite all this... all that's registering in my head is the fact that you've been thinking of me and only me this whole time. You've been worried about how you're hurting me because you don't want to."

And that's when you realized that Timothee was right. This whole time you've been thinking of Timothee and how much you wanted to protect him from you, but he never wanted to be protected from you because he knew that you could never hurt him. You rested your forehead against his.

"I-I need to go. I need to think."

He smiled sadly, "I'll be here when you're ready. I'll always be here Y/N until you don't want me to be here anymore."

-----------------------------------------------------------

You sat in your house, since leaving Timothee's earlier, you had been sat there lost in thought as you argued with yourself. It was true, the last thing you wanted was to hurt Timothee, but you were confused because it's like you couldn't understand your feelings. After all, a particular person still held a large part of it in his hands.

Timothee was there for you. Late night at the recording studio, whether through being there physically or even calling you or skyping you, he was always there. He was there with you when you bought all your albums from Target, and he was also the one who insisted you find another target that hasn't sold out your CDs so he could buy all of them too. Timothee was there with you when you had interviews that you almost felt like you could puke from nervousness backstage as he watched you talk about another celebrity you were getting linked to, and he was there with you to giggle about how stupid talk shows were. Timothee was always there. Whether it was dancing, kissing, or even fighting in the rain, he was always with you. He always wanted you around. Even when you rode the subway to get to a press conference of his or a promo for his upcoming movie, he always wanted you with him. He'd run with you in the rain, and he'd kiss away the sadness when you didn't want to speak with him. He was there with you when you get the sudden urge to buy all the popsicles from the nearest whole foods, and he was there with you when you got sick with the flu, which he also got from you. You'd spend afternoons walking around a far-off hill as you two put flowers in your hair despite knowing that you two probably had your busy schedules. Nothing mattered when you were with Timothee. Nothing mattered except each other. A part of you felt hurt that these memories you had kept of you and Tom were slowly being replaced by everything Timothee, but a large part of you also knew that the person you have now had no doubt that you couldn't ignore your feelings. You couldn't have to take Timothee out of your life.

Making up your mind, you got up, got dressed, and left for where you were sure you would find Tom.

He was in the middle of filming a new movie, but the second he saw you, he immediately asked to stop filming, a familiar, loving face plastered on as he walked over to you before being stopped by the director. They looked to be having a bit of a disagreement before he pointed you out, and the director looked at you in realization, patting him on the back and allowing him to jog over to you.

"Hey." You paused, your hand grasping your arm, and Tom took notice right away.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, what's wrong?" He pulls you to sit by the curb as you two sat side by side, "You only do that when you're having a hard time saying something."

You gave him a look, "Well… I came here to ask you if it was alright if I try things out with Timothee."

He looked taken aback, "Oh, well, honestly, I thought you came by to sort things out between us…." He took notice of the way you looked down in guilt, "I don't think you could do anything with another guy that wouldn't upset me… but I don't really get that prerogative anymore, Y/N." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you to comfort you, "The fact is, you're trying to grow into who you've always wanted to be, and I'm trying to do that too for the sake of us and what we could be. If that means that you need or want to date someone again, I'll fully support you, but the most important thing is, does he make you happy?"

You sighed, looking out onto the filming lot, and nodded slowly, not noticing the slight upset look on Tom's face, "I catch myself sometimes smiling to myself when I think of him… But it's like I can't do anything because I don't want to let go of what we had."

Tom took a gulp, deciding that what was important right now was you, more than what he wanted, "What we had and what we were isn't important anymore Y/N. I'm working towards what we could become. What we had was co-dependency and a constant need to be in each other's presence to prove that what we had was perfect. I want us to find each other again in the future and know that no matter how far apart we are, if hopefully, we get together again, there is nobody in this world we'll love more… and that's what I'm encouraging you to do. I want to grow with you and grow for each other, and if that means you dating other people to understand yourself more, then I support you."

You looked at Tom for a second before hugging him and pecking him on the cheek, "I really needed that, Tom. Thank you."

He hugged you tighter, "Anytime. I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

You gripped your seat in the car in pure nerves. You were on your way to the Oscars with your assistant constantly telling you about your performance and what not to mess up and things to remember, especially about reporters who wanted an interview with you. To say you were all nerves today was an understatement. You hadn't spoken to Timothee ever since you told him you needed time to think, so today would be the first time you would ever come face to face with him. You thought long and hard about everything between the two of you. Still, you think you're finally ready to actually put some time and effort into this… and if that meant doing things that would significantly make Timothee happy, then you'd do it.

Your assistant watched a live feed from the Oscars as she gave you updates on how Armie was on the carpet. Saoirse was on the carpet, talking about how she hoped to make a movie with you and various other stars. You were a few minutes away from the carpet when she spoke up again.

"Timothee has just arrived." then she looked at her phone and back at you, doing a double-take as you gave her a sheepish smile, all she could do was smile approvingly at you before going back to giving you live updates.

A few minutes later, and your heart didn't feel like it was going to slow down anytime soon as your assistant gave you a pep talk, "Y/N. You are gonna rock that carpet, you'll turn heads, and most importantly, you're gonna be the talk of the night. There is nothing that could go wrong tonight. Just take deep breaths and don't trip."

Luckily you were still coherent enough to understand what she said as you took deep breaths to calm your nerves.

"Alright, three… two… one." The door flew open as one of the large men in suits grabbed your hand and helped you out. Your dress was not providing you much flexibility to move, and for almost 15 seconds, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion as everyone was quiet. You found Timothee busy with an interview as the crowd looked from you to him, the topic on everyone's minds for the past few months. As if this were the only proof they needed, they held their cameras in their hands as they snapped pictures of you and a commotion started as they started asking for Timothee.

You think you gave them a quick, charming grin as you told them he was in an interview before walking towards the interviewer and Timothee. She was the first to notice while Timothee talked about how his mom stood him up as his Oscars date, something you arranged a week earlier and something Timothee's mom was more than happy to comply to.

The interviewer looks ecstatic as the only one and the first one on this carpet to get whatever the scoop was here, as she wasted no time when you slowly approached them, "Timothee! You said you were stood up, but you never told us that your backup would be late!"

Timothee shot her a confused look before he felt your arm slowly snake around his arm, "Sorry I'm late." You quickly whispered to him.

His face looked shocked. Almost as if a reflex, he almost pulled away from you before getting a good look at what you were wearing. His jaw looked like it would drop to the floor as he looked utterly awestruck.

The interviewer giggled nervously, already knowing her interview time was slowly coming to an end without any payoff to the two of you, "Timothee, you look to be speechless at Y/N's dress tonight." She looked at you hopefully, "Could everyone here assume this is date night?"

You smiled shyly at the lady before giving her a tiny curt nod, "I know it's a bit cliche to match outfits, but when I saw that Timothee was going to wear a harness, I just couldn't let him take all the attention for tonight, so I apologize, but I've kept this secret from him too just to make sure he doesn't do anything to take the spotlight, that's why he looks like he's just had a heart attack." you giggled.

He gave a quick, playful tilted look to you before blinking multiple times, "In my defense, I didn't even know that this was a harness... They told me this was a bib."

"Bib or not, you two look like the sexiest couple on the carpet, and I just so happen to be the luckiest interviewer tonight." The interviewer looked ecstatic as can be as she jumps up, more energetic to interview the two of you, "And well, Y/N, one look at you, and it's hard to believe anyone would still have the ability to speak. You look gorgeous." She winked at the camera, "But I can't help but notice you just confirmed this is date night… Is it safe to assume what everyone has been wondering for the past few months? That you two are dating?"

Somehow, Timothee finally snaps out of it and looks at you, a questioning look before you leaned over and spoke into the mic, "Yeah. We're together. We have been for a while now." You smiled sheepishly as you saw Timothee's face glow as he wrapped his arm around your waist, "I apologize for keeping quiet for so long, but we think it's the right time to go public now that we've decided to take things to a more serious level."

The interviewer waves a hand in the air, "As long as you two let us in on the secret, there's no problem there." She faced the camera, "You heard it here first, folks. Hollywood's newest and hottest up and coming power couple. From both Y/N and Timothee themselves, now going public with their relationship."

As you two walked away from the interviewer for more pictures, Timothee embraced you, uncaring of the cameras flashing in your faces, "Are you serious?"

You nodded slowly, "I'm ready to be with you completely, Timothee. I'm sorry I took so long."

He shook his head like a puppy, "As long as you're here with me now, Y/N, I don't care."

He pulled away at the sound of your name and his in the same sentence as the photographers asked for your attention. He quickly kisses you on the cheek as you shut your eyes and grinned, cameras going off and commotion started up at you two, the young hot couple everyone had wanted more details on.

Timothee clutched your waist tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, this would all go back to how everything was before.

Before entering the venue, he pulled you to the side, "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to force yourself."

You shook your head, guiding his head to yours, "I think I'm in love with you too, Timothee. I'm all in with you." And then you kissed him.

#Timothee Chalamet #timmy #selena gomez #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee x reader #bty #back to you #i finally updated #im so sorry i took so long #thank you for being so patient and always supporting my page #spidxysense

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years

Text

The One That Got Away-Dream Was Taken

Pronouns: She/her

Word Count: 2.4k+

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'You're gonna be there, right?'

Y/n bit her lip, reading the text message for what felt like the millionth time. She had texted him 40 minutes ago, yet no reply. This had become so much more common recently and she had no idea why. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal, but it felt important to Y/n. Clay would never leave her on delivered for more than ten minutes. Even when he was streaming, he'd text her before he had begun, telling her when he'd be finished.

Tonight was an important night, they had been planning for this for months. A few members of The Dream SMP server had come out to Florida to meet up. They had planned to meet up for dinner and maybe a bottle of wine at Y/n's house afterward.

Y/n admired herself in the mirror, she wore a black dress that complimented her body well. She felt gorgeous for the first time in weeks. Usually, she didn't rely on items to make her feel good about herself. Clay was always there to compliment her or assure she was pretty. But recently, he just seemed to disappear.

It felt so hard to connect with him recently, Clay had become so quiet. Every time she texted him, she was left on delivered for hours if she wasn't left on read. It was rare for him to even send a brief text back to her nowadays. Weeks had passed since the last time Y/n was able to see Patches or hang out with Clay.

At this point, it felt like Y/n was at war with herself. Half of her was so demotivated, maybe it was time to finally leave Clay alone. The other half was demanding they had to keep trying, their friendship was just going through a rough patch right now.

'You know why you're trying to hold onto this friendship, you have feelings for him.' Y/n swallowed hard while the thought of Clay appeared in her mind again. It was true, she had grown a small crush on her blonde friend. But it wasn't her fault, It was because of the way he use to be so protective of her. The way his face lit up when he laughed. The way he just knew something was wrong. 'But that doesn't matter. It's obvious he'll never feel the same way about you.'

Before she had gotten another chance to argue with herself, Y/n's phone had buzzed. Clay? ...Wilbur.

'Hey, I'm gonna uber to the restaurant in the next few minutes. On your way?"

Letting out a sigh, she typed away. 'Getting in the car in five minutes.' She took one more glance at herself in the mirror. "He's going to be there, I know it."

"Y/n!"

"George!" Y/n smiled, picking up her pace as soon as she spotted her friend. Their arms wrapped around each other, holding one another tight. "It's so good to see you."

George let out a short laugh, "It's good to see you too, Y/n." He pulled away from the hug. He had dressed in a suit, they had planned to meet at an expensive restaurant for the night. It was recommended by Clay, it was one of his favorites.

"Anyways, we should go find our table, I think Wilbur's already here."

The pair walked side by side, friendly banter being spoken between them as they entered the restaurant. Nostalgia immediately hit Y/n as they passed through the doors, it wasn't her first time here. Multiple times in the past, Clay had brought Y/n out to eat here. The first time they ate here was the first time she had seen him in a suit.

"Y/n?"

"Oh, yes?" The h/c girl had quickly snapped back into reality, looking to her right. "I'm sorry, lost my train of thought for a moment."

"It's fine, I think I see Wilbur." George motioned to look across the room, there at a round table was another friend from the UK. Wilbur sat down, looking at something in his lap.

Biting down on her lip, Y/n had to fight back the urge to yell aloud; "Wilbur!" And run to him. When the lanky man had noticed his friends, he smiled and stood from his chair.

"Wilbur!" she whispered quietly, trying not to disturb the other tables. Quickly she shuffled over to give as big a hug as she could.

"Y/n!" He whispered back, returning the exact energy she gave.

One by one, more and more friends had arrived. Everyone seemed so happy to see each other. Eventually, it seemed as though each person was lost in a conversation... besides Y/n. She had been staring down at her phone, she was still left on delivered by Clay. 'What a dick.'

"hey, Y/n." Her head shot up, looking across the table. Niki sat there with a smile, "Just curious, is Clay showing up tonight?"

Y/n's smile faded for a second, only to reappear. "I... I doubt it. I haven't received a text message back from him, and he hasn't answered any of my calls for these past few days." She ignored George and Nick, who gave each other a certain look as she spoke. But at this point, it didn't matter. Clay wasn't going to ruin Y/n's night with her friends.

"Here, let me try and call him... would that be alright, Y/n?" George was already standing as he spoke, his phone in one of his hands.

She flashed a faked smile at him, "Yeah, I don't care, Gogy."

With that, George had excused himself from the table, already beginning to pull up Clay's contact before he even reached outside. Y/n help her breathe for a moment, watching her British friend disappear around the corner, out of sight. Usually, 'out of sight, out of mind' made sense, but not in this case. Y/n could feel her stomach doing backflips as she glanced from her phone, checking the time, only to look back to see if George had returned yet. It practically felt like time had slowed down, trying to drag these few minutes out as long as possible.

When George had returned, Y/n could already tell he didn't have good news. Just by the look on his face, she knew Clay had flaked out on all of his friends.

"Clay's gonna be a little bit late, he's bringing a surprise with him."

"A surprise?"

What surprise could Clay possibly be planning? Whatever it was, Y/n hoped it would be something to help keep their friendship from breaking apart. "Did he mention how long it'd take for him to show up?"

"He said, 15-20 minutes."

"So let's just order drinks now, he can get whatever he likes when he shows up.

If time wasn't slow enough while George was on the phone, it felt like she was stuck in time. Y/n had begun to pick at her nails nervously, this was going to be the first time they saw one another in weeks.

"Hey," Y/n felt Wilbur place a hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts again. "Look."

She glanced up at the entrance. There he was, wearing the suit she had seen him wear for the first time. A giant grin was on Clay's face as he walked, he looked to his left. And there she was... a blond-haired girl wearing the exact same dress Y/n had picked out for tonight. Y/n could feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Hey guys," Clay spoke as soon as he came into earshot of his friends. Looking over the table, his eyes looked with Y/n's for a short second. "I want you to meet Elise."

One by one, Elise had introduced herself to each of Clay's friends. But when she reached Y/n, it felt like a stab in the stomach. "Omg, hi! You must be Y/n!" She was pulled into a quick, bone-breaking hug, "I love your dress! Oh, we're matching! How cute!" She just seemed to perfect, she was so much better than Y/n.

While an extra chair had been pulled up the table, everyone was lost in conversation. Except for Y/n, she had stayed quiet. Every now and then, she'd look over to Clay, who sat across the table. Their eyes would lock every couple of times, a strange feeling laid in the pit of her stomach when it would happen.

It seemed as though Wilbur had caught onto Y/n's anxiety. He was quick to offer his hand, allowing his friend to hold it under the table. Wilbur had always been a good friend to her, if Y/n wouldn't tell Clay about something, she'd turn to her brunette friend. So of course, he knew about her feelings towards Clay.

After placing everyone's orders, Y/n just couldn't take it anymore. Standing, she moved across the table. "Clay, could I get a moment to speak to you outside?"

"Uh, sure... Y/n." He was hesitant to stand. Before leaving the table, he had whispered something into Elise's ear.

The short walk outside was quiet. There was obvious tension between them. When the front doors opened, Clay had begun to speak. "I-"

"No. Not right here. Around the corner." Y/n didn't stop walking, making a direct beeline for the alleyway on the left of the building. She could hear Clay let out a sigh behind her, only making her fight the urge to yell a brief; 'fuck you,' at him.

When they were finally around the corner, she had turned on her heels to face the 6'3 man. "What the fuck, Clay?"

"What?"

" 'What?' You don't get to ghost me for weeks then reply with, 'what?' Do you know what a dick move that is? Where have you been?" She practically hissed at him, crossing her arms as she spoke. If it was possible, steam would leave her body from how upset she was.

"I've been busy, Y/n."

"Busy? So that means you cut me out of your life? After being friends for months?"

"You aren't the most important thing in my life, Y/n. You should know that." It was Clay's turn to give Y/n a nasty look. But at this point, she didn't care.

"I know, I shouldn't be the most important person in your life, Clay. But that doesn't mean shut me out of your life." She snapped at him, pushing herself up against his chest, "You know what would've been nice? Not being left on delivered or read. It would've been nice if I could receive a text every now and then catching me up about your life."

"As I said, I was busy."

"Busy! That's your only excuse, pathetic. I can tell you're busy, you have a girlfriend and I never got to meet her."

"Well,-"

"Am I the only one who didn't know about her?"

Clay froze. he knew this was the end of the line for him.

"Clay." His silence spoke loud enough. "I'm happy for you, I really am. But... it fucking hurts, you know." Y/n let out a short giggle, she could feel her eyes watering. "I loved you, you know. I loved you so damn much. If you told me to do something, I'd do it with hesitation. But it's crystal clear the feelings aren't mutual."

"Y/n..."

"No, it's fine. I'm gonna leave. Don't worry, I've ruined the night, I'm sorry. Enjoy your time with your friends, Clay. Don't let me rain on your parade any longer." Y/n had stepped back, trying to move past her friend.

"Y/n, listen to me."

"Move, Clay. God damn it."

For a few seconds, Clay continued to try and catch her attention, refusing to let her past. "Y/n, shut the fuck up. Listen to me." Out of frustration, Clay had grabbed onto the girl's shoulders, pushing her against the wall. Y/n looked down at the ground, batting back tears. "Y/n..." he sighed, moving one of his hands under her chin gently. Carefully, he made her look up at him. He always hated seeing her cry.

"I'm an idiot. A big one. Y/n... I love you too. I just didn't think you felt the same, so I decided to push you out. I looked for love somewhere else and I found Elise. But Y/n, I really do love you."

"No, you don't..." Y/n whispered softly, she shook her head as a dumb smile appeared on her face. "If you loved me, you would've made a move. You wouldn't have closed me out of your life for weeks. You wouldn't have found someone new to love. Please don't bullshit me, Clay. You know I'm not stupid."

"Y/n..." clay could feel his heart begin to crack, it hurt to see her like this.

"Please just let me go," her voice was soft as she spoke. He really did hurt her heart. "I want to say goodbye to my friends."

"I..." Letting out a sigh, he stepped back, "alright."

Clay watched as Y/n disappeared around the corner, wiping tears from her face. Why was he such a fool to let her go?

Y/n smiled as soon as her table came into sight. It would all be quick and easy. As soon as Elise noticed her, she stood from her seat. "Oh my god, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit chilly outside," Y/n replied, pulling Elise in for a hug. "It was so nice to meet you. You're such a lovely girl to talk to."

"Right back at you," Elise smiled at Y/n, taking her seat again.

One by one, Y/n gave each of her friends a hug goodbye. When Wilbur held her, she was quick to whisper something brief to him: "Walk me to my car?" Wilbur nodded, taking her purse for her as they walked out. On their way out, Clay had passed by them. He kept to himself, looking the other way when Y/n came into sight. When he was out of earshot, Wilbur spoke up.

"Are you okay?"

"Honestly, no. I just wanna go home and cry." Y/n let out a huff of breath. She was speed walking to keep up with her tall friend.

"Do you want me to tag along?"

"Please." As the night continued on, it seemed like both Clay's and Y/n's moods had changed drastically. While Y/n was at home watching movies and laughing with one of her best friends, Clay was stuck in the place that reminded him of Y/n, thinking about how she'd be the one who got away. Did it hurt him? Yes, but he deserved it. He was the one who ruined it all. Nothing would be the same after tonight.

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ COME TO BED, I CAN'T SLEEP WITHOUT YOUR HIPS PRESSED AGAINST MINE ❜

❚❙ OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA MASTERLIST.

✨ REQUEST by @meteora-fc: heyo! please can you do 3 from the smut prompt list with bishop 😏 ty ty!!

✨ Prompt: “Come to bed, I can't sleep without your hips pressed against mine”.

Gif credit: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

WORDS: about 1.5k.

Warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, a little of overstimulation, mention of bodily fluid.

❚❙ A/N: thanks for requesting, my dear. I hope you enjoy this piece I wrote in less than 30 minutes, which is a record time. I’m sorry it took me so long and I know this should be part of ‘January of Prompts’, but I decided to take it as another request due it has been impossible for me to write this challenge.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

You have been trying to sleep for an hour now, but it has become an impossible mission knowing that your husband is still awake for some reason. He has been through some shit with Los Olvidados and Miguel Galindo lately and he doesn't want you to worry you feeling him spinning around your shared bed as he fights to fall asleep. But you prefer that than being alone. Getting up brushing your hair with your fingers, you lead your bare feet to the back porch, crossing your arms and rubbing them with both hands to get warm as you come closer to the outside.

Bishop is sitting on a chair with his legs rested on the wooden railings, smoking and holding an empty beer. Wrapping his chest from behind with your arms, you lean forward to press a gentle kiss on his raspy jawline. And you can't help but let go a soft purr as you sink your nose into the gap between his neck and his shoulder. Setting off the cig in the ashtray, he lands his right hand on the back of your head closing his eyes for a second.

“Come to bed... I can’t sleep without your hips pressed against mine”. You whisper into his ear with a provocative tone of voice, extending the last four words to highlight them.

You can see the smirk appearing on his face a second before standing up and lacing his fingers with yours, so you can guide him through your house straight to the main bedroom. In your way, he isn't able to put his free hand away from your throat to earn some exposed skin of your neck to kiss it slowly. Once Bishop puts a hand on your body, he can't stop touching you.

As soon as you reach your bed and tuck in, you get what you wanted, what you needed. His strong arms surround you without hesitation, pressing his body against yours; too close there's no distance between both. His lips continue adhered to you, leaving mouth-opened kisses from his starting point till finding your mouth in the middle of the gloom. Bishop tastes like nicotine and alcohol, but it doesn't disgust you, sliding your tongue into his cavity to crash with his in a friendly match.

Your husband bites and sucks your bottom lip, slowly swinging his hips against your ass and creating some friction as your t-shirt rolls up and down with every move from his body. You don't shut the soft moans that soon fills your room, grabbing his right wrist massaging your nipples over the cotton fabric to direct it down over your abdomen. His palm getting dragged gives you shivers, closing your eyelids when his fingertips caress your hipbone ending up playing with the waistband of your black panties.

“Tell me what you want, querida…” Bishop's voice puts you to tremble briefly, so needed after a couple of days without feeling him this close.

“I want you, Obispo”. You almost sob, dancing your hips in sync to earn more friction against the bulge growing under his boxers. “Need you inside me tonight… I need you”.

“I'll do anything for you”. He murmurs, while his hand makes his way to your already-ready pussy. “I'm so sorry for unattending you… Could you forgive me, mi amor?”

While he continues speaking to you, his index finger slightly caresses your swollen clit causing you to gasp eagerly.

“Yes… Yes, Bish”.

“I'll make it up to you”. And you know pretty well he will keep his promise.

Removing his hand from your panties, your husband pulls them down through your legs before doing the same with his underwear. You stirr at the simple touch of his bare skin and the heat it emanates from. Bishop urges you to raise a leg so he can guide his hard cock to your folds, playing with them as the head rubs your entrance to coat it with your arousal. And it feels so damn good after two days. Placing his hand on your inner thigh, he makes his way through your warm and soaked pussy, nailing his hardness as deep as he is able.

“Oh, god…” You cry out intertwining your fingers with the ones gripping your throat, rolling your eyes to the back of your head inevitably.

Bishop is so thick and big that you know you won't ever adjust to his size. He's aware of it, always giving you some seconds to get used to his cock, even if he adores the way your cunt suffocates him every time he's balls deep between your legs.

“Move… please… please”.

Sticking his chest to your back under the sheets, your husband rocks his hips slowly, taking his time to enjoy that being buried inside your body is the only way he feels like he's at home. There's no better place for him.

“You take me so good, baby girl… You're so tight… Can you feel it, ah?” His hoarse words fall onto your ear, urging you to lie a little over your back so he can devour your mouth.

Bishop doesn't give you the chance to reply, invading your cavity with his tongue and his grunts as his pelvis speed up furiously when he knows that your walls are already adjusted to his prominent erection. Tossing your leg behind to his and freeing his hand, he directs it to your breasts straight to one of your nipples. Bishop pinches it, twists it, pulls it, earning the delicious whinings that make him feel proud of satisfying you.

“Fuck, cariño… Oh, fuck… Please… Please, Obispo… fuck me harder”.

You can't deny you're such a filthy and needed whore for your man's dick. That's a fact. And can't do anything, but take your wishes as his commands. He lives for making you happy. The pace of his thrusts increases, creating a beautiful noise that fills your room when his hardness is sunk into your soaked cunt, not giving you time to catch back your breathing.

“Mi amor, you're so damn… perfect for me…” Bishop growls against your lips, keeping eye contact since he loves to see every expression drawn on your face. “You're my home… the only place I wanna come back… every single second of my life”.

You try to tell him how much you love him between short and clumsy kisses, running out of air and feeling the pearls of sweat touring your forehead.

Your husband needs to hear you screaming his name, substituting his lips for his fingers and sliding them into your mouth.

“Suck them, baby girl… Suck them like I know you can”.

And you give him a whole show, moans included before leading them to your thighs. Bishop spreads your folds using his digits, as he moves them from up to down stroking your most sensitive skin right now. He has learned how to touch you by paying attention to your vocals, how loud they are, the words you try to utter. Your husband knows to perfection how much pleasure these caresses to your inner lips provokes you, while he continues pounding you with no mercy. That gesture shortens the time you can resist till finding the orgasm, but when you explode, he pushes your soul out of your body.

Bishop makes you cum. He makes you cry, screams his full name, trying to put his hand away from your pussy when he wants to continue rubbing your satisfied pearl with his fingertips from one side to another; overstimulating you as he hasn't finished yet. You can't even talk, nor think. You aren't strong enough to make him stop, crashing his body against yours until emptying himself inside your guts.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart!”

His seed fills you completely, pressing his anatomy to yours as his arms wrap you as much tight as he is able to. Bishop can feel his dick twitching buried in your more than pleased hole, as your legs and your hands are shaking for too much pleasure roaming every single inch of you.

“Good girl… Good girl”. Bishop whispers against your neck, resting his forehead there during a short moment. “You're the goodest girl, my lovely wife… You know how to cheer me up…”

“That's my job”. You giggle barely breathing, getting comfier under his tight grip. You don't want him to move away from you. “Don't… pull it out, please…”

“Want it inside the whole time, ah?” Bishop scoffs, pressing his body a little more against you, earning a soft and broken gasp. “Beg for it… I love to hear you begging”.

“I shouldn't”. You complain. “I've been a good girl… not disturbing you while you were working… and I was here alone. Needing my husband. So I have the right to keep your dick inside me a little more, Obispo. I'm not going to beg for it”.

You can feel him chuckling in silence, infecting you with his good humor after releasing all the tension the club has caused on him.

“Whatever”. He teases you, pretending to move back and not hear your speech.

But you don't let him. Of course not. You force his arms to stay around your body, sticking your body to his. You can't avoid a soft grunt escaping your lips when Bishop pushes his semi-erection a little deeper, hitting unexpectedly your g-spot. He's going to kill you. That's for sure.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #january of prompts

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