#but now it would be almost impossible to go back for any reason 'cause the brain is like

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Sorry I like my men toxic and nobody can convince me that Tseng would give you a fully healthy relationship. He’s just not the worst guy you could date. So here are some of Tseng’s toxic habits. I wish we could post powerpoint slides. Like I guess NSFW for my choice of words. Edit: Okay I’ve typed more. It’s NSFW, it wasn’t that when it was just scattered notes i swear. granted, this is still scattered notes

Forgiveness?

Tseng. The man you forgive a million times because someone like him is so hard to come by. Even if you’re a person who doesn’t tolerate bullshit. You know that it would be impossible to find anyone nearly as good as him despite his mistakes. Tseng knows this too, taking advantage of your level of comfort in him. The connection between the two of you so deep there wasn’t a possibility you could view life without him. Tseng creates soul bonds with his significant other, he has to have all of you fully invested in him. You would also want for absolutely nothing, he can provide everything you could ever want so you can focus on the future you want to build for yourself. Whether it’s school, art, creating your own business, etc. Tseng is there to guarantee everything goes according to plan if it’s financially or if he has to pull a few strings. Seeks out people who would be reluctant to replace him but aren’t very co-dependent. If you manage to leave Tseng, say good riddance to developing any new relationships. He’s either going to make any of your new significant others vanish. If it’s someone he can’t kill, he’ll find a way to scare them away from you or find a way to put them in prison. 

My alternative reasoning as to why all of your other relationships would fail? The dick of course. Yes. The unbelievable wee wee. There’s not a soul in the world that would be able to learn your body the way he does. Have you ever heard of people being nearly ready to pass away because they lost their dick? Well if you haven’t, you have now. Even thinking of him fucking someone else the way he does with you is enough to make you want to vomit. That shit will have you sliding down the wall crying. You can try all you like to fuck someone else, it won’t compare. The way he touches you immediately sends electricity down your spine. It’s all in the way he knows how to touch you. Where to touch you. A subtle brush of his fingers along the small of your back while you’re riding him. An almost tickling sensation that causes you to press yourself against him as he leans up to kiss the most sensitive parts of your neck. How about when all he needs to do is look into your eyes and knows exactly how you want to be fucked? You can’t think of a time you had to ask him to do anything, your minds were seemingly in perfect sync. Always so so willing to please you. “So you wanna fuck other people huh?” He whispers in your ear mockingly while driving his cock deeper into you. Your knees pressed against your chest, legs hooked in Tseng’s arms as he ensures you won’t slip out of your position. No, you really don’t, not when he’s reminding you of what you’ll be missing. You’ll be calling him the next day for more, innocently asking for him to come over to “talk”. There won’t be much talking, just Tseng bending you over the kitchen table. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks himself into you so deeply, ignoring the way your hands push against his abdomen in a half-hearted attempt to slow his tempo down. 

There aren’t many people in this world that would be nearly as attentive as he is. The way he can easily tell all of your needs within moments of talking to you. Reads you like a book and it can’t help but make your heart flip, cause like, ‘who sent this man?’ and why does he know all of your emotional needs and exactly how to take care of them? Tseng carries aspects of his job along with his relationships. The same way he gets to know his enemies closely, he’ll do the same to you. Memorizes all of your sayings, even can predict what your response would be to most questions or statements. It’s almost more eerie than heart warming. With this comes the ability to manipulate you endlessly. Gaslighting has never been easier honestly. Lying to you about anything or forcing you to agree with his point of view would be child’s play. The way he carries himself during an argument, so well composed, rarely letting his emotions control him paired with the way he effectively strings his words together to soothe you. His calmness will make you question why you’re even so worked up. Tseng isn’t, so why are you? Tseng makes you see everything through rose colored lenses, and despite your aching heart when he hurts you, Tseng could never be wrong in your eyes. He only does what’s best for you. 

Gaslighting? Probably.

Truly remembers every word you’ve said to him and will use it against you. This goes back into my last little paragraph but deeper? Uses traumatic things from your past so you can believe that maybe your emotions, in regards to something Tseng has done wrong, are nothing more than misguided reactions. Will have you think that maybe you’re projecting your fears from past experiences onto him when you challenge him or try to hold him accountable for any wrongdoings. Certainly will guilt trip you knowing exactly what makes you feel like you’re the biggest piece of shit in the world. He doesn’t have to do anything outrageous. It’s the way Tseng subtly changes his body language. Slumping his shoulders just a bit, the way his brow furrows at your words or actions, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor like a scolded child. To put the cherry on top, it’s the ever so slight change in his tone of voice. The wavering in his tone as he speaks softly, not too soft for it to sound out of the ordinary, but enough for you to believe you’ve hurt his feelings. Usually resulting in you coddling him, now you’re the one apologizing because you “never meant to make him feel bad” even if it’s because you were grilling him for something as major as fucking his boss behind your back. Believing that it must be your fault if he’s off sleeping with others. Master manipulator for sure. He’s good at lying, like we see what he does for a living.

Like to make you cry because he's the only one that can also make you better. At times he’ll do this just to make sure he’s got complete control over you still. Wrapping his arms around you in such a calming way, his warmth and sweet words coaxing you to relax against him so he could “make it all better again.” More makeup sex. Somehow gets a kick out of cheering you back up. One minute you were sobbing because his words were a little too cruel and now you’re sobbing because he won’t stop fucking you so good. Tseng has a way he likes to position you in times like this. Having you lay on your stomach, your back arched just enough for his hips to flush against your ass as he completely sheaths himself in you, whispering in your ear asking “you still love me, right?” Christ, he has a way of making himself emotionally needy at just the right times. You can’t help but whimper, whine, and eventually choke out, through your moans, your appreciation, love, and devotion to him. Always ends with him cuming in you, some aftercare, then holding you in his arms for a majority of the night unless work calls him away.

Sometimes-y af?

He can pick and choose when he wants to pick up your relationship or not but you cannot do the same to him. Loves someone who he can come and go as he pleases with. You're so stupid and willing. Loyal to a fault, though the only person it’s negatively affecting is you. There isn’t a time you’ve turned him away thus far. Constantly taking him into your arms, babying him as though he’s some angel despite you knowing he isn’t. Tseng’s just managed to get you to the point you couldn't care less about his deceptive ways. You just want him by your side, no matter what the circumstances may be. The entire world can see the invisible leash and collar Tseng has put on you, yet you manage to stay blind to it all. You’ll wait like the good little puppy he’s molded you into. 

It’s a wonder he can be such a gentleman and a conniving son of a bitch. The kind to end an argument by demanding to be left alone but will ask “what you're doing tonight” a few hours later---he's going to fuck you—giving you a reason to keep accepting him back into your loving arms. He knows you’re a gift from the Goddess but he can’t help that he likes being toxic at times. It’s why he treats you so well and the sex is so unbelievably good. He needs to cement himself into your soul so he can continuously get away with everything, so things can continue to go exactly as he wants it to. Tseng prefers a life with you that has no consequences. For him. You, however, have to deal with punishment if you dare treat him in a similar manner to his treatment of you. Will show his displeasure with hurtful words and by neglecting you. If that doesn’t have the desired effects he’s willing to scare you into submission. Once again, nothing too outrageous that he would do. Tseng might just choke you a bit, push you against a wall, or if you try to run he’ll hold you against him tightly. Whispering into your ear about making you disappear if he can’t have you the way he wants you. Telling you how he does so much for you and he at the very least deserves you on your best behavior at all times or else he might just have to break that pretty neck of yours. Isn’t too big on yelling, he can get his point across just fine without having to do so.

Stalker? Obviously.

Tseng has trackers in your cars, phone, and bags. It doesn’t matter where you go, he’s going to find you. He’s definitely followed you from location to location, making sure you were doing what you said you would be. Sure he’s always been able to track you, but that isn’t the same as seeing you. You could be doing anything in the areas you claimed to be in. Tseng is even familiar with the faces of employees of each store you frequent. Has tracked down every family member and friend of yours, performing thorough background checks on all of them. Even closely looking after some of the people closest to you. Tseng has to approve of the people you hang around of course, he won’t tolerate anything that he feels is a negative influence and will force them out of your life. Tseng will sit outside of your house for hours after leaving, wondering if someone will come over. If he knows someone is coming over he’s got your home mic’d. Listening to all of your conversations, evading your most private conversations. Hates to hear when you vent about him, makes it hard to come back to you and act nice when in reality he wants to correct you for telling his business to your friends and family. Doesn’t mind when you’re speaking highly of him though, you help boost his ego most of the time. Getting space from Tseng is impossible. Your attempts to drive around and find a nice parking spot are all for nothing. He’s following right behind you. Is definitely going to block you in with his own car, angrily getting out of his own. Once he made you leave your car where it was entirely. Pissed that you would try to get away from him at all, it doesn’t matter if it’s just for a few hours. Pushing you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back home all while yelling about how stupid you were and that you would always come back begging for him. 

He was always right about that. Nothing would stop you from wanting Tseng back if he finally decided he was done. A relationship with Tseng is either on his terms or very much a “till death do us part” 

[tarraxahum]

Image quality is such a weird thing

Like, nowadays you find old YouTube videos from the 00s and you're shocked at how pixel-y they are. Because 240p was the average resolution. And it's so bad compared to todays 1080p or the 4K ones.

Or take the old LiveJournal icons. The small ones. People made gifs inside them, some so small you can't even see the face of the person. Right now it's like. Why so tiny? You can't even tell who that is? But back then it was probably a cool ass icon.

Somehow back then I never once complained about the video quality. Or smaller image files everywhere. It was what it was and it was enough?

But in comparison to the better quality today... It's so glaring.

Weird.

[cryptfile]

✶ nuclear seasons, [ soldier boy x reader ]

summary — he was friend’s with your mom. friend is a understatement cause when he appears in the middle of the night looking for revenge in your little apartment in the suburbs, you know he’s far from being nice.

warnings — +18 minors dni, smut, dead dove do not eat, we have a last name (also a mother!), kind of porn without plot? but not really cause it HAS one okay, we call it 50/50, fem!reader using she/her pronouns, p in v, masturbation ( m! receiving but blink and you miss it), dirty talk, age gap, choking, degradation, spitting (i'm sorry), fingering, mentions of injury, cancer (not you tho), tons of tension.

side notes — i’m never experiencing the post ovulation clarity lmao, that being said english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, also i’m a whore for jensen ackles, and i stand for what i like proudly. // 5k+

Nightshade is a hero.

You're proud of your mother since you were pretty young. The hero that fought against Vought to death during the time Payback was active, America’s Troublemaker that you only knew as Stella Nightshade, a blonde woman that talked with the death during her golden years.

Maybe it’s your mother the one that pushed you to fight crime, to pursue the bad guys and look out for the victims that can’t stand for themselves, so even when you don’t inherit much from Stella’s gifts, you joined the CIA as soon as you can so you can do something that matters.

You’re the best in your class, work your ass off to be taken serious, to be more than the look of disappointment you receive when people ask, once again, if you have any powers like your mother and you have to admit — In pure shame, that you didn’t born as a superhero but a baby who cried loudly when is too hungry.

But as years pass you make a name for yourself, one that even if differs from Stella’s job has the same noble reasons behind. You also realize you were too naive growing up, believing in heroes that don’t deserve to be called that way.

The country has made a mistake on making superhumans so openly, and it’s clear that got out of control now, backfiring as they got so much power it’s almost impossible to take accountant of any of them.

You’ve worked along Grace Mallory from the shadows, and even when Stella would not be so proud of you for helping get his kind out of the streets, the justice is enough to feed you and keep you warm on a cold night.

You like it that way. You know Grace has a team for it, a legal army of supe-haters as you called them, yet, you prefer to stay in the dark, not let your personal life get involved cause one slip and you can lose it all— Even when you don’t have nothing at all. You like to have an outside life from work, it’s the sane thing to have, so when the CIA Deputy Director asks you about joining the infamous Boys, you politely decline assuring the woman you’ve been more helpful from the outside.

What would Stella Nightshade would say? Now that you’ve grown older and you don’t look at her the same way you used to when you encounter her files and read about your mother. You know she has done wrong, yet with the years, you don't imagine Soldier Boy himself was going to seek for revenge first thing he does when he wakes up, his plan including your mother even when she was long time dead before he even appeared in the picture.

That night especially you let your guard down. It's been a rough couple of weeks back in work, so when the night comes you're a victim of the stress, victim of your bosses and the people that surrounded you. You pour a glass of wine for yourself, light a cigarette even when you haven't smoked in years, and turn on the TV to see something else rather than the face of Homelander in every single channel you've been tuning lately.

It's a weapon. When you leave for a warm shower and start filling the bathtub, you're not aware of what that night was really going to be for you. Oblivious as you stand naked in the middle of the bathroom, holding the glass of wine between your fingers before entering the warm current that relaxed your muscles.

It seems tension is your worst enemy, makes your muscles feel like stone as you got in the water, the cigarette that hangs from your dry lips splashing with tiny droplets of perfumed water as the silence filled the air. It's what you needed, at least ten minutes with your brain shutting off completely, the pleasure you haven't experienced in forever by being so compromised with work.

It's a much-needed break. The smoke that leaves the room by the almost-closed window, the taste of wine still lingering in your lips as you sip another taste of the crimson liquor you love. You don't happen to notice when he's breaking in your apartment, silent and deadly as you were protected by a door closed and a white curtain.

You don't happen to hear him too. The music coming our from your phone is loud enough to silence the knocks on your door at first before breaking the wood, you're too deep in the still water that smelled like roses and vanilla, to even pay attention to what was going on outside the warmth of the four walls that surrounded you.

There's vapor coming out of the water and you find comfort in closing your eyes, in letting the blow of the smoke travel through your throat before suspending itself in the air, flowing as you drank.

In your defense, you haven't been like that in ages.

It's been a long time since you last fill the tub and have a relaxing session with yourself, so it makes sense you are enjoying it a little bit too much, too much cause when the invader is making a lot of noise when stepping into your property, you still enjoy the taste of the alcohol on your lips.

The ashes fall to the ceramic floor outside the tub and you should blame the CIA to make you so tense to the point it leads you to more problems than you ever had. In the dark room of your apartment, it's Soldier Boy the one who's going through any drawer he comes across, the ones closed, the ones hidden, any slit he can find, any clue that can trace your mother back to his personal vendetta.

He's oblivious to Stella's death and her daughter, so when the former superhero hears the noise in the bathroom he's fully convinced it's your mother the one who's behind that door, that she's the one who's going to tell him the truth, if she also sold him to the russians as well in the process.

He's decided also on killing her. She must need it after all that time getting older, closer to death more than ever.

Of course it's an unpleasant surprise when you can see the bathroom door opening when you're sure you left the front door closed and lock with at least two bolts to prevent anyone from getting inside, it makes you jump in the spot, quickly covering yourself from the new stranger that enters your bathroom.

"Stella?" he asks, it's the last room that the hero needs to check for himself.

You spot the green fabric of his suit immediately as you pressed your chest against the cold surface of the tub, and when the invader notices you're naked, he doesn't look away as any person with a hint of respect would do, but instead, continue on checking you out as you try to cover yourself in the water tinted in a nonexistent transparent color red.

You can feel his gaze as soon as you recognize him too, as you happen to notice that face from your mother's pictures, the propaganda in the TV when he did almost every commercial back when you were a kid. It's a shock, and dressed in his damn suit, you don't know why an old superhero is there standing beneath the yellowish bulbs of the light your bathroom happens to have.

Your cheeks adopt this pink color as you panic, grabbing the cup of wine to throw the liquid in the floor, breaking it against the marble walls just to shatter the glass in pieces, a weapon of defense as you lifted up against him.

"You're not Stella."

Soldier Boy looks amused: it's funny that you think you'd be able to kill him with shattered glass, yet he lets you keep thinking that way when he's enjoying the view.

Is he to blame? He just got out from this giant cooking oven back with the communists and he hasn't got his way with a lady since what seems are centuries, so when he spots you in the tub he simply cannot contain himself from peaking around. You should be in what? Not more than your 20's? Soft-looking skin that asked to be marked with his hands, by the force of his lips crashing in your flesh.

The thought is compelling, you're looking all feisty with the glass in your hand, threatening him and speaking something Soldier Boy cannot catch at first — Shit, he doesn't even notice the blood in your hand that's dripping all over your small rug in the floor, the power women like yourself seemed to have now and weirdly enough, a huge turn on.

"Get the fuck out!" you scream in an authority voice, the same you use back at work when you're mad, when you're usually holding a gun in defense more than a piece of broken glass "Stella is not fucking here!"

It takes a few more words to actually get him out of there, and as he closes the door behind him you finally stand to grab a towel covering from the currents of wind, trying, really hard, to think about anything else more that the fact that Soldier Boy has entered your house and your bathroom in the worst moment, far from what you were last updated with.

To be honest, it almost gave you a heart attack, leaving the bathroom to find your home torn apart, the drawers open and all the papers you've meticulously kept in place being all over the place as Ben stands awkwardly holding a shield in the middle of your living room.

"Fucking hell" you're cursing under your breath as you gathered some important things you cannot leave on the floor even when you're still wet from the shower, expelling this nice aroma that mixed the roses and the vanilla together with your personal scent — Weirdly enough, a fucking show to the hero that's already rock-hard from the peak he had of you from before.

You don't really notice it at first, too busy being mad as you let the papers you gathered on top of the table. You lose the shame you got left as the wet drops of the shower leave a trace in the floor — And as usual, you clearly don't notice it, but Ben does when the water is running down your back, and you're barking something about calling someone called Grace, holding onto a white tower with your dear life.

"Where is Stella Nightshade, sweetheart?" he speaks out loud cause he don't understand anything you say, really fighting to be nice with you like it would give him an opportunity to get under your skin.

"My mother's dead," you stand there without knowing what to say after. You know he and your mother were close, but you don't imagine he was going to actually go find her teammate when he recently woke up in a different country. "She died years ago dude, i'm sorry."

The information gathers in his head as you take a clean oversized shirt from the laundry basket covering with it as you throw the towel to the floor, Red Hot Chili Peppers it says, but he thinks it's a place in Italy more than a band like he isn't troubled already by the fact you were Stella's daughter, the person who thought was her only friend back in the time now dead.

"Does anyone know you're here?" your mind is drifting back to work again as you wondered if anyone knew he was going to break into your apartment and choose not to send any help — "Ben."

You've read his file. Hell, to be honest you've read every single file in Payback, so it's no surprise you know his name, but to the hero, it seems to be amusing when you call him by his real name, his mind fueled in a different direction as he notices you're not wearing any underwear beneath the shirt you're choosing to wear, one whose fabric's barely covering your tights.

"What do you mean dead?" he asks, furrowing his brows "It's not been so long."

"She got cancer three years ago" you explain with a sad tone, even when you disagree with Stella, it pains you to remember what sickness made out of her, consuming her from the inside at a cruel pace.

"Motherfucker," he states clearly angry, and you cannot help but look at him with a weird face, searching for the phone you left in the sofa to call any-fucking-body in the office that could send a damn army to get you: Didn't the Boys have everything under control? That's what you're told anyway, then why the fuck is the subject of matter cursing in your little messy apartment? — "Bitch just got away with it before I could do anything, isn't it? What a fucking shame."

"Pardon me?" it catches you by surprise at first, but it hits you soon after. Soldier Boy is not there to say hello to your mother or ask for her help, but instead, he's there to get revenge and actually kill Stella by his own matters.

Fuck. Of course is something new, something that makes you feel cold all sudden, your wet hair making you visible shake as you became aware of his plans.

"You know them. You know the people from the lab" it's more of a fact than a question, letting the words feel salty in his own mouth. "The ones that let me get away."

He's quickly to gather the pieces too, not as dumb as you think he is as the puzzle is finally coming up together in his head, and it's all it takes for him to take a step closer to you, cutting that space you've created since you kicked him out of the bathroom — He's angry now.

The red globe on his hand is now holding you by the throat, applying enough pressure to cut the air flow going to your lungs almost completely, his fingertips warm against your bare skin as he holds you in front of his figure, pushing you against the cold wall.

You usually would enjoy such activities, yet in the context you are trapped in right now, you began to choke, your own hands trying to push his grip back even when he’s too strong, not even flinching when you’re squirming, gasping for some air as your face became red, tears gathering in your eyes as he let you breathe for a couple of seconds when he senses you’re too close to black out.

“Talk little Nightshade” he says in a low voice. “Or else i’m breaking your pretty neck.”

“I work for the CIA!” You explain quickly as your breathing became more labored by the seconds. “Not for the people who let you out! I promise!”

He’s going to kill you. You can see the determination in his eyes, that predator look he happens to have.

What you don’t know, somehow, is that he’s going fucking insane. Your smell coming up to his nose to make him shiver, the sight of you in an oversized shirt that barely covers your shape is more than enough to push his buttons, to make him forgot about any killing he was allegedly so concentrated in fulfill, the sight of you almost crying messing with his brain.

Little Nightshade is a fucking tease.

His eyes follow your expression, the hand that gripped your neck and choke you harshly now pressing enough to only suppress the air flow in a more enjoyable way, the tension quickly shifting from dying to pleasure all over again as he kept you in place so easily.

It’s impossible to move, to do anything more than be pressed against a cold wall. Your mother has once again lied to you and you notice the relationship she painted with Soldier Boy was more of a movie in her head than reality itself. Makes you gulp in response when you stare at his expression, the face of a trained killer as you knew, fucking knew, a bit more of force in your neck and it would snap without any difficulty.

“I don’t work with them” you assure once again, maybe it’s your survivor skills hitting when you repeat it in a low voice, catching on your breath when he lets go allowing you to fill your lungs with air just enough before pressing that very spot again, the one that actually turns you on. “Fuck’s sake.”

Is that how you end? On your lame apartment?

The next is a weird thing, cause in the blink of an eye he’s close to your face planting his own body next to yours and you’re shivering at the feeling, his armor pressed against your chest as he left the shield he was holding on the floor.

The metal is pressed against your skin covered by the thin cotton of Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, and he is so close, so close you froze there, no longer fighting his tight grip but mesmerized by his damn face, the same you watched on TV when you were a kid, the handsome man you happen to severely crush on in secret, just because you don’t want Stella to know or she will give you a long talk about how he is her age.

But he is, handsome as fuck, and now being so close to his face you can say it with all confidence. His beard is shaved perfectly and he smells incredibly good even for someone who has spent time locked away without any kind of hygiene, his green suit protecting him from the cold air that was getting through the opened window.

“Who are you?” he asks, scanning your face with a curious look as he wanted to know what expression you would have when you know why he's there in the first place — “What do you know about Stella Nightshade, your mother, selling me out?”

Fuck. So that's why he's there. You know she did it. And it's impossible for you to lie when he's making you so nervous, away from any weapon, any form of defense as you left the glass in the bathroom sink when you notice large gash on your hand, and your silence makes nothing more than leave him fuming. If he was angry before, he now reaches a higher level as his grip turns more violent now that he knows you know what he meant, why he's there claiming to talk with your death mother out of nothing.

"Call her then. Use your powers" he demands dryly, and you're shaking at this point cause it's more shame added to the long pile, the bathroom already being a humiliation by itself. "Fucking call her."

You squirm beneath his grabbing, when he's pushing you harder against the concrete wall and you can just feel him from under the suit, hard cock pressing against your belly, green in your vision as he towers over you. He knows what he's doing, and even when you try to be disgusted by it, you find yourself enjoying his closeness, how he's pinning you with no effort at all, hands on your throat while he demanded an answer.

"I can't call her" you admit in a low voice, cheeks now red as the embarrassment crept upon your face — "I don't have my mother's power."

Soldier Boy seems to not believe you for a mere second, after that you can feel the blade of the knife pressing against your skin, a threat that now becomes more real as you can feel the cold metal stomach. One swift movement and you'd be stabbed without a second thought.

It's sick how much you enjoy it when you are squirming against him, goosebumps in the zone he threats to destroy.

A force pull his lips upwards in a smile, unable to pay attention to nothing else but the sound you made without even realizing it. "You like that, huh little Nightshade?"

It seems to be a joke for him, bitting your inner cheek to prevent you from saying something stupid, from letting out a moan in response to all the sudden desire.

Despite all conditions you stay silent, holding his gaze like it's a game you're not going to lose. He didn't respond either, trapped in a second that seemed longer than the usual when time stopped around you, eyes looking like he can surpass the old fabric of the white shirt you choose to wear.

It's the tension what makes you mad. You're so into getting people like him, that your ego is bruised now that you notice you are actually attracted to all of that, to the way he's pressing you against the concrete, how all falls into place when he's pushing himself against you, invading any private space you could require.

He's kissing you soon after. Ben crumbles against the tension as the hand on your throat demands a kiss now, pulling you closer to his face without any warning nor concern as he crash his lips against yours in a rough kiss. You try to push him away in response even when you don't want to; see, it's hard to even admit you have interest in Soldier Boy in any other way more than the professional, but when he's bitting your lower lip you're letting your defense down: When is the last time you've been kissed like that?

You remind yourself you're tired from work, that the CIA has done nothing for you more than fuck your over and over even to this point, losing sight of one of the most important heroes of the word, and it's making you encourage to let go just for a mere hour.

"Lookin' so good takin' a bath" he says, and the sound of his deep voice is enough to send an electric wave through your spine, like he’s talking to himself as the hand on your hip is now tracing the curves of your body, taunting you from over the shirt he now learns to love. His beard is now scraping against your skin and you can feel his lips going down, tracing an invisible path to the crook of your neck as his hand is no longer choking you.

Jesus. Was that even happening or was that your imagination? Did you feel asleep on the bathtub? Maybe it’s a reflection as you are close to drowning, your brain doing that happy thoughts shit. You’re tilting your head to the side just to give him more space to work with and you’re just letting it be, enjoying how he’s sucking and nibling on your skin to leave a red mark behind, all teeth and no fucking control as he uses a good amount of force to make you moan in the process, the pain enough to remember who’s really on charge.

Ben forgets about asking any more questions, he’s too busy when his hand are taking decisions by themselves as they slide under your shirt, body still cold from the bath you just took, water still drying in your flesh when he’s like he usually is — An invader.

His hands are big and they’re capable of holding your whole tummy as he caress the soft skin that seems to expel a warm sensation, how it leaves goosebumps in any place he touches. You remember you’re basically at his mercy now that his hands roam with all liberty under your shirt, the look he gave you in the bathroom mistaken you for Stella, his eyes looking at any exposed skin he could look at.

“What the fuck,” you try to say under your breath, to keep on this facade you have of a composed person, one that won’t give in to be manhandled “What the fuck do you think you are you doing?”

“Well, i’m not seeing any complains” The blade cuts through the cotton leaving a large hole you know you won’t be able to sew after yet he’s right: There are no complains, nothing but eager that makes him go further as the seconds passed “In fact, can see that you’re pretty much enjoying it, Doll.”

You hate the nickname, that old man way of speaking when he’s squeezing one of your breasts with more force you can even handle, cursing at how easy it seems to be for him, how he wants to see you simply destroyed.

“You’re loving this isn’t?” he ask all sudden, studying you with his hazel eyes — “You love being a good whore f’me? My little Nightshade.”

He’s hard under the suit, covered in a green material you don’t know how to call as your hand searches for him, crave for him, convincing that it's what you must do as you trace the invisible lines his muscles made.

Soldier Boy’s messy, much like an animal when he’s groaning beneath your touch, his own body seeking for yours as your fingers grew bolder, demanding for a deeper contact — “Careful there sweetheart, i’m still fresh out of the oven. May be a little rusty."

You laugh at his words cause you know what he means, yet your hands work by themselves as you barely even touch him from over the suit, the hard feeling of his cock against your palm, hips buckling against your hand seconds after seeking for you, eyes shut for a couple of seconds.

“M’being careful” you say, catching yourself stealing a look at his reaction, taking your time on pleasuring him , gulping as he experiences the torture of your touch “Taking it slow for an old man.”

“Old man, huh? Now you're talking” He teases, and the sound of his laugh just fucks you up. Maybe it has to be with the fact he’s placing two fingers in front of your lips while looking at you, swollen pink lips he’s so fixated for a second, or it’s because he is, indeed, way older than you are — “Spit.”

It’s not a command, but it sounds like one as you’re unable to disobey, quickly spitting in his hand as you can visibly see the traces of saliva leaving a wet residue in your chin, one Ben looks at it for a good amount of time: How is something like saliva is so damn erotic? He doesn’t know it, but it’s enough to send him into a spiral.

He’s strong you think, cause he’s a superhero. He’s Soldier Boy by any meaning, so it’s not a big effort to hold you in his arms and lift you in the air as you let out a gasp of surprise, spanking your ass as one of his hands separates your legs for him, holding one up as you stand in the other.

“Relax, 'got you, doll” he says, your back against the wall as he kept a bruising grip in your hip, holding you in place so you don’t have to keep your balance — “Fuck you smell so damn good.”

The roses and vanilla aroma lingers on your skin as you finally understand what he's doing now, his hand close to your cunt as he taunts you, torturing you like you did so eagerly before, his personal pet as his digits get lost in your entrance now, your folds spilled with juice he can physically feel in his fingertips, your arousal's so nice against the palm of his hand he cannot help but kiss you, a feverish desire taking over his actions, the lewd sound his fingers made when he finally pushes his digits inside of you, velvety walls welcoming him as they seemed to squeeze him already — He has made such a good job on turning you on, it’s impossible to not react when he’s finally touching you, pumping into you in a constant pace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, the look on your face is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants in response, imagination running wild as he thinks about that very same feeling in a much deeper way, how you’d look now stretched out, crying just like you did when he choked you asking for information — “Such a nice cunt, so wet f’me.”

He's looking at you, holding the image in his mind forever: Pink pussy displayed for him, white t-shirt rising over your chest, lifting your leg over his arm as his muscles flexed by the force he's using to fuck you deliberately, your lips parted as you ask for more in between erratic moans as his fingers curved inside you so he can hit that nice place he can reach with no effort at all, that one spot thats makes you moan louder.

"Ah-fuck" you let out. Ben's all about touching you for what it seems an eternity, thumb grazing against your clit when he's plainly torturing you, testing how much patience you have left now that he has full control of you.

"Don't cum," he demands, your heartbeats are louder by the seconds as he lifts you slightly, lips attacking your neck before the words escape from his mouth "Need you to come undone in my cock first."

He's leaving marks, marks you don't remember how to hide but don't bother you at all, touching you as he pleases you, taking all the time in the world cause it seems like the night belongs to him — Getting started as you shake your head in an improvised yes.

Yes. The thought is pure electricity, the sudden need to please him as you shake your head once again.

“Please Ben,” you don’t recognize what you’ve become now. “Please let me cum in your cock.”

"Go on doll, put on a show f'me" the supe says with a grin you cannot resist. "Bend and show me that lovely ass."

It’s all it takes. His fingers are now away from you, but you’re now facing the wall as you obey, bending until your cheek is pressed against the concrete and you can hear how he’s now unzipping his pants, the green fabric of his suit now to the side.

You look at him from over your shoulder, bitting the your lower lip as you check him out, his slightly curved dick pointing upwards, precum already leaking out.

“Like what you’re seeing or what?”

“Yeah, but there’s no fucking way.”

You’re feeding on his ego now, but you can’t help it when his size is far from what you consider it’s common — “Common’ doll. You can hadle it.”

You gulp in response cause you know you’re more than eager to try, just the sight of his own hand holding his lenght as he strokes himself making you drool in response. Fuck. It transforms in a need now. When he positions himself beneath you and he’s spitting down to that very place where he’s pushing against your hole, saliva coating his cock before just letting the tip inside.

Lubricated, he pushes a bit more and it feels just damn right. Even when it begans to hurt as he’s thick enough to force himself inside you.

Benjamin knows you’re in pain so he waits a second before shoving his cock inside one more time. You need some time as he stretches you out, clenching your teeth while he works.

"You're doing it s'good" he praises, hand massaging your back as he prevents himself from fucking you at his liking, “Takin' me like a champ."

"God" you let out a sharp moan moments after, crying when you felt the pain more than anything else — "Can't-"

"No doll" he hums as he pulls slightly more. “You can do this” he forces himself in until he's finally balls deep inside your cunt, letting you adjust to his size as he can feel fucking everything. Your blood flow, your velvety walls that squeeze him unused to someone as big as he was, your face distorted in what seems an intense mix of pain and pure, devastating pleasure — "Atta girl."

Strikes like lighting.

Soldier Boy's bitting your shoulder-blade as he waits, waits for it to switch into pleasure, to become intoxicating to the point you cannot longer remember your own name.

"Please move," you ask sooner than he thinks, and when he moves, you can feel it in your belly, melting your fucking brain as he repeated the process again, burying his cock as deep as he could go without any previous warning — "Ah, just like that, please-"

"Do you like how my cock is stretching you out now?" Ben's voice is way deeper than what usually is as he laughs, grunting behind you as one of his hands reach a fistful of your hair, grabbing it with force to pull your head backwards "Good girl, keep huggin' my cock."

You're drunk on the feeling, on the vibrations his voice sends every time he's saying something dirty for you, when he laughs victim of the pleasure.

"Gonna' keep you as my personal slut," he thinks out loud, pushing you against the wall every time he fucks you, using his other hand to spread one of your ass cheeks to the side so he can hit it harder. "Use you as my fucking pet so I can cum on your pretty face whenever I want."

He's moaning, your body’s sweaty as he pulls your hair without caring, not concentrated on the pain it produces as his hips continue on collide against you.

"Would you like that, little Nightshade?" he asks then in a low voice, his thumb pressing against your asshole as he fucks you harder now that you're used to his size. "Could get used to this pretty cunt. Promise to keep my cock whore nice and full."

It doesn't take long. Soldier Boy's moans are now filling the room as his pace becomes faster, slurred words between his erratic breathing when the hand on your hair comes up to finally grab you by the neck, like he can read your mind cause it's exactly what you need to get there, to experience by first hand a set of crashing waves that were getting more and more intense on your stomach.

You're close to the edge. He can smell it in the air when the sound of your skin slapping against his is loud enough to be all you can hear, mixing with the lovely moans you produce when he’s pounding into you with no mercy, fingers pressing the side of your neck with enough force you’re running out of breathe.

It’s messy, violent and you love it, love how he’s ruining you all sudden, fucking you up from the inside, making your vision turning dizzy in response. You’re immersed in the haze he’s driven you into before admiting:

“God i’m so fucking close.”

“Cum on my cock,” it sounds like he’s begging you to do it, fingers finding their way to your swollen clit to move against the sensitive flesh “Come on doll, leave me full of you.”

He’s making you move now, hands now controlling your hips as you take him as his liking, mere seconds until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking as you finally reach your peak. He keeps on fucking you through your high, long enough so he’s pulling out all of sudden, stroking his lenght over you as his cum finally lands on your back leaving you convered with his load.

Fucking hell.

When you’re coming down from your orgasm shame seems to hit you hard, however for Ben is not enough when he’s kneeling on the floor, eyes on the mess his cock made out of you.

“Wanna go again, little Nightshade?” he asks curiously, and the question makes you laugh in response, forgetting about formalities and the trouble it meant you were intimate with Soldier Boy out of all the supes in the world.

“Hm,” you seem to think about it for a second, his breathing close to your wet pussy as he’s still wearing his clothes in contrast of you being so exposed — “But you’re keeping the suit on.”

He don’t have any complains when he’s the one pressing his face against your wet folds.

Funny thing is now when you’re forced to join the Boys days after that very encounter — A bad joke when you’re now babysitting Soldier Boy himself.

“Been missing you s’much little Nightshade” he admits after a couple of minutes alone in the filthy motel “Thinking about how cute you are, how you felt taking my cock so nicely in your living room.”

“Fuck off, Ben.”

“We’ll be quick” he promises “That stupid assholes back there wont even notice.”

You seem to think about it for a second before lifting your middle finger in response — “I said fuck off, Ben.”

For now, it’s enough for him that you’re thinking about it.

my masterlist

[ladycaramelswirl]

A Dream Like You

Female reader x Aaron Hotchner

A/N: I did something… hormonal 💀 may delete later

summary: you and Aaron share a bed on a case. oh, also you’re both in love with each other and totally oblivious. And sexually frustrated 🫠

cw: Idk how ratings work but I’m pretty sure this is explicit. (sm*t?) No mention of Y/N! Also quite a bit of swearing, which is unusual for me.

A/N (main): this is my first time writing anything remotely sexual. It’s short! I was writing something completely different but it ended up as… idk what this is. Also I’m sorry for any typos. Enjoy 💀

————————————

You wake up to the most perfect warmth enveloping you. And the delightful smell of soap and a citrus scented laundry detergent. You sleepily bury your nose into the smell. Except the source of the smell is Aaron, who immediately startles awake at your movement, only to go completely still when he realises you’re the reason for the wonderful warmth pressed against him. He tries to move away but you pull him closer, pushing your breasts against his chest and your leg between his thighs, dangerously close to his now extremely hard cock.

You move against him in your sleep, rocking against his sensitive underside, causing him to moan. This was bad. So bad. He really needed you to wake up. 

“Hey”, he whispers.

“Mmm”, you mumble into your bedmates neck. “It’s so nice here. Don’t want to get up”. 

God you were killing him. He tries to move away, not wanting to disturb your much needed sleep, but you just hold onto him tighter. Were arms supposed to feel this good?

“Please wake up”, he pleads. You needed sleep, but if you kept rubbing against him, he was going come, and then things would be very very uncomfortable. He tries to shake you awake but you rock your hips against him again. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, pleasure rushing through him. Your sleepy mind finds immense satisfaction at his voice and starts moving against him harder. 

“Oh God”, he chokes. 

“You feel so good baby”, you whisper in his ear. You throb with desire. “I need you”, you whine, the friction from your movement sending you into a state of bliss. God you’ve never had a sex dream this good.

Aaron feels his heart race with your movement but it’s your words that cause him to get harder. How was he supposed to forget how you called him baby? He tries to shake you off. 

“You need to wake up. I-“, his words are cut off by an uncontrollable gasp of pleasure that escapes him. 

You feel desperate for the feeling of him inside you. “Fuck me. Please fuck me”, you beg. It takes all of Aaron’s willpower to push you off of him and he jams a pillow between you. He immediately gets on his feet, needing to get away from you. You let out a disappointed whimper and that’s all he can take before he rushes into the bathroom. He turns the water on in the shower before stepping under it, trying to get the cold water to cool him off. But nothing is helping. He wraps his fingers around his hard shaft, slowly moving it up and down. He grits his teeth together, the memory of your words making it almost impossible to not vocalise his pleasure, but you were still asleep and if you woke up, he’d have to explain why he was so flushed. So he tries his best to be quiet. Your voice plays in his head - “you feel so good baby”. He strokes himself faster. “I need you”. His knees buckle in pleasure. “Fuck me. Please”. His mind goes blank as he experiences an euphoric climax and his legs shake as his gratification covers the bathroom tile. Fuck. He’s never got himself off that fast. Shit. He just fucked himself thinking about you. He immediately feels a surge of guilt. He is your boss. He is not supposed to feel this way about you. And you had thought you were sleeping. He has no excuse for his behaviour. He towels himself off and checks his watch for the time. 4am. It’s too early to get up but he cannot get back into bed with you there so he gets dressed. He leaves a note explaining that he’s gone to the precinct to work on the case and that you should join later with everyone else, then quietly slips out of the room.

The sound of the door closing stirs you from your sleep. You reach for your nightstand to check your watch, but find nothing. The panic of being in a strange room makes you sit up and you remember that you’re in a hotel room on a case. You reach to the right for your watch again only to realise you’re not on the side of the bed you slept on. And that you’re alone but you hadn’t been when going to bed. You notice the note on his nightstand. Of course he was already up at 4am. Unless you had kicked him out of bed by rolling onto his side? Oh God, you hope not. And why did you feel so… sensitive? You notice the pillow between your thighs. You recall your dream, and his sounds of pleasure, groaning in frustration and burying your face in the pillow. Only you’re overwhelmed by the smell of Hotch. It’s enough to have you throbbing again. You’d just had a sex dream of your boss. While in bed within him. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else? It was so embarrassing. And completely inappropriate. You had to pull yourself together. But you felt a desperate ache between your thighs. And the smell of him was overwhelmingly good. Before you can really think about what’s happening you bring one hand to your breast, palming yourself through your shirt and slip your other hand into your sleep shorts, rubbing your sensitive nub. Were dreams supposed to be that vivid? The memory of his body against yours has you imagining your fingers are his. You slip one finger inside, then two. His would be so much thicker, so filling. You throb against your digits at the thought. You can almost hear his moans. You fuck yourself harder. God it feels so good. 

“Yes Aaron”, you pant, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that he’s not here. You pinch your nipples as you swipe at your sensitive bundle of nerves and suddenly remember the sound of him whimpering. It’s enough to make you see white. Your orgasm rips through you and you’re soaked in sweat by the time you come down from your high. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating when you’ve ever had an orgasm that good. Never.

You were so fucked.

———

A/N P.S. : I hope you liked it! should I post the writing that inspired this? It’s pretty much the opposite of this - far away from smut land and very much the capital of pining city. It’s much more my usual style. Anyway let me know what you think :)

Masterlist

[bonny-kookoo]

I’m obsessed with my princess. I’ll take a late night snack if you have one 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

Since I've been yelled at to make more brat tamer kook content: Here you go, some sweet tension!

Jungkook has come to learn that you know very well how to get under his skin by now.

And you also, not just on occasion, make it a fun game for yourself to see how much you can annoy him before he snaps. Maybe because he's been pretty lenient with you compared to how he would normally like to go at it. He can't really do much about it either- his wolfblood constantly telling him to put you back into your proper place in the pack.

A pack he doesn't have, but that doesn't mean his instincts know that too.

Jungkook doesn't have many canine hybrids as friends, except maybe Yoongi. But since he's bonded to his own partner, Jungkook doesn't really feel any sort of need to care for him like he does with you- though he's not too sure why he's starting to get so attached to you either.

You're just friends- and even that would technically be a stretch to say. He doesn't know you, and you don't know him either.

But he can't deny the fact that he really.. enjoys this game of push and pull you two constantly seem to engage in, every bark sent into your direction only momentarily causing you to follow his word. Maybe you're instinctively able to really figure out if he's being genuinely angry or upset at you, or if he leaves room for you to try and test him on his threats, because otherwise, he'd not be too sure as to why you're just so good at walking that line with him.

And sometimes he has to admit, his fingers are itching.

Just like today, where you're just constantly annoying him by either repeating his words for no reason, or by making his job absolutely impossible. Though, taking care of you at your apartment and making sure you're getting the hang of normal everyday life-tasks wasn't really in his job description, to be fair. He's not even getting paid extra for this.

Why is he doing this again?

He's not sure, but he also can't really think about it for much longer, because right now, you've overstepped the line. There's no way you don't know what you're doing, and no one can blame him for physically acting on this, because how dare you.

You just bit him.

And he's reacting accordingly, at least if someone was to ask his instincts in that moment, a hand on the back of your neck pressing you down into your couch, while you growl to yourself. And the second he realizes what he's doing, he wants to apologize-

when he notices your tail wagging. Even this right now, is still a fucking game to you.

"Don't tell me you're pissed just cause I nipped your arm there." You laugh, probably sensing that he's not serious yet. "Boo-hoo. Now lemme go, I wanna watch TV-" You start to struggle, successfully slipping out of his grip- but he's not done yet.

He can't let this stand.

So just as you're ready to slip off the couch, he grabs you by your waist, just to pull you back, his body entirely covering yours, keeping you in place while he bites your neck.

Scruffs you, like the spoiled, unmannered pup you are.

And the reaction is almost instantaneous- compared to how on other occasions you've simply accepted and reluctantly agreed to his scolding, right now, you're fully submitting, tail between your legs underneath him, a soft whine coming from you. And it's now that he realizes, he's never had the upper hand over you, never had you under control at all.

You've always simply let him win.

Once he lets go of you, ready to apologize for acting so harshly, you instead crawl onto his lap, clinging to him, quietly. Visibly in need for his comfort again, desperate to get back on his good side.

Oddly how he remembers himself acting when he was younger, and scolded by his own parents.

Suddenly, you're not all that bold anymore, not even apologizing, simply leaning into him, rubbing your cheek against his clothes whenever he stops holding you. It all happened so quickly that he doesn't even process it that much right now, but all he knows is that whatever happened definitely got the message across for you.

"I'll never bite again.." You mumble into his shoulder, hiding away from him, and he laughs, running a hand up and down your back.

"No, it's fine. It just caught me off guard." He explains himself. "I'm a wolfdog mix, so I apologize I reacted like that. I couldn't really help it." He offers you, and you nod.

"No, I was being mean." You defend him. "Can I continue cuddling you? Or do you want to leave?" You ask, giving him the genuine option to go- and he knows, he probably should.

But instead, he shakes his head, and sits a bit more comfortably.

Holding you until you fall asleep, while he watches some random TV channel in your apartment.

[madschiavelique]

Okay but picture this, Miguel getting jealous cause of another spiderperson flirting with you

Like he is doing a briefing with a lot of spider people and one of them keeps trying to get your attention and miguel gets jealous, sends everyone away and has a heavily make out on his platform in his office🫣

HIHIHI twirling hair kicking feet at this bestie

summary : miguel gets jealous of a random spiderperson flirting with you (not proofread)

content warnings : posessive!miguel, just jealous miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 1,9k

tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel had invited a good group of spiderpersons who were still fairly new to the society, to bring them up to speed or simply to remind them of the procedures to follow on a mission.

You were there, just to supervise. Having been part of Miguel's elite group of spiders for some time now, you were perfectly familiar with all the criteria and stages of the anomaly hunt.

Nothing more than a quick briefing. The usual team was there, Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter B, Jess and you. You stood off to the side, leaning against a wall, arms folded as you watched Miguel give his speech a bit farther away.

"Hey, I've never seen you around before, do we know each other ?

Your eyes went to the person who had just spoken to you. It was an umpteenth Peter, blond-haired, not far from your age, and of course new.

Although you didn't appear everywhere all the time, most of the spiders knew what Miguel's group looked like. So you were a little surprised by his remark, but not enough for it to be too striking.

"You might've seen me on his team," you said, pointing with your chin at your boyfriend, who you hoped wasn't terrorising the newcomers too much.

You tried to refocus on Miguel's speech. Your relationship with him was not public; you had agreed that, for the time being, you would prefer to keep it a secret. There were several reasons for this, such as the fact that you might be seen as a spider with more privileges than the others - which wasn't the case - or the fact that you simply wanted to avoid trouble. This lack of information didn't stop Peter from coming back for a chat.

"So... what's your name ?"

You didn't even look at him, simply giving him your name and alias.

"And you're a new Peter," you sighed.

"You never get enough Peters, am I right?" he smiled, "although I'm obviously unique in my own way.

"Unique?" you smiled with a little chuckle, "how?", because Peters looked and acted the same, they were after all Peters, so you wondered how he would stand out.

"Like this," he approached you, tucking his fingers behind your ear and bringing his hand into your field of vision so that you could see a little flower between his fingers.

You gave a little laugh, taking the flower in your hand. It was soft, light and smelled wonderful.

"A Peter magician?" you pouted, shaking your head, "that's progress."

Miguel was going over the formalities of multidimensional cells when his gaze inevitably drifted to you. But he froze, tensing up as his eyes took in the little scene unfolding nearby.

You, against a wall, an ordinary Peter caressing your ear to perform a crummy magic trick and make a flower come out of it. Too close... he thought, he was too close to you. He didn't appreciate the proximity with which he approached you. Of course, the other team-mates in his squad could allow themselves to be close to you, whether you were in their arms or whatever, but for one of the countless Peters here to allow himself to be at your level? That he could not condone.

He saw a small smile forming on your face, his blood boiling. Wasn't he good enough for you? Was it because he didn't give you enough affection that you let any spider approach you? Or was it that he didn't do you enough favours, like performing magic tricks?

But Miguel was so good to you, it was almost impossible to get out of his arms when he hugged you. He gave you everything he could give you, even loving you to the point of giving you the last empanada left in the cafeteria if there was only one left, no matter how much he wanted it, and that's how passionate he was about you.

So maybe... you didn't realise that Peter was flirting with you?

Ah, maybe that was it, maybe you were just oblivious to what the nerd was trying to do?

And the Peter took another step.

That one step was too much.

"Well, you've got most of the information. We're going to cut this meeting short, you can all go." he warned, teeth clenched.

The elite team itself looked surprised as all the other Spiderpersons scattered to leave the room.

"Miguel? Is there something wrong ?" asked Peter B, concerned that perhaps the reason everyone had just been dismissed was because of something he had received from Lyla that was important.

But his eyes were riveted like arrows ready to be shot at the Peter who was still chatting to you.

"I just have to take care of a little problem," his eyebrows were furrowed, jaw tight.

Peter B's eyes drifted back to where his were, letting out a quiet "Oh" before calling the rest of the team and persuading them to come with him to... whatever it was for, as long as the elite were leaving too.

"And so you caught three anomalies in a single mission?" said Peter, absolutely amazed by the feats you were telling him about.

"Yes, it's becoming routine," you confirmed.

You noticed the room beginning to empty, and deduced that the meeting must have ended.

"I'm so happy that there are Spiderwomen around, and as competent as you are," continued Peter, chatting to you, "especially when I see that they're as beautiful as you are."

"That's very kind of you," you say simply, "the meeting's just finished, I think you'd better leave before you get your knuckles rapped."

Advice from someone with a very strict boyfriend on organisation, you thought.

"Could we meet again? How about the cafeteria?" he offered.

"That's very nice of you to suggest, but-" you bit the inside of your cheek as he cut you off.

"Oh, or maybe the park? I hear there's an ice-cream parlour that sells ice-creams in our likeness." he laughed softly.

"Would you look at that."

You swallow, his voice was strained and falsely interested, your eyes landing on Miguel who'd just arrived near you.

It's almost comical how tall Miguel was compared to him, towering over him in both mass and size to the point where he could crush him like a tin can.

"Oh Miguel O'Hara-" greeted Peter as if nothing had happened.

"I've never seen you here before," Miguel remarked, a vicious flash in his eyes.

He intended to take great pleasure in showing how much better he was than Peter, and above all in making sure he understood that you weren't interested in his advances.

"Oh yes sir, I'm Peter," he said.

"How original," said Miguel in a honeyed, falsely curious tone, glancing at you.

"The Peters must be the best for there to be so many of them," laughed Peter, and you felt like pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I see them more as a weed that hangs around," he said, looking into poor Peter's eyes, Miguel looming over him.

"Well, I think you should join the other Spiderpersons," you simply breathed with a polite smile.

"Yeah um," he swallowed, lowering his eyes from Miguel's to meet yours, he was appalled. "I'll see you sometime maybe ?"

"Never," Miguel decided.

Peter took a few steps backwards, unable to say anything else, and headed for the exit.

"You look upset, what's wrong?" you asked as Miguel headed for the control platform.

"I see you made a new friend?" asked Miguel, his eyes locking onto you with a dark gleam as he stepped onto the platform.

"Not really," you replied, your voice a little smaller as you in turn joined him on it, coming to sit on one of the desks.

"What did he want?" he asked, his tone insistent as he looked at you, standing and taking a step forward.

"Nothing special, he wanted to get acquainted," you said softly as he took a step forward, his eyes gleaming strangely.

"Just getting to know each other?" he said, arriving just in front of you and placing his two hands on either side of your thighs, tilting his head to the side, questioningly. "You're naive if you think he just wants to be your friend."

His face was close to yours, his whole body almost covering you, leaving you unable to move or get away. Your eyes locked with his a little more, and you understood, a small smile forming on your lips.

You put your hand on his cheek, and he pressed against your touch.

"Do I detect some jealousy there?"

He sighed, his jaw contracting slightly, his tongue creating a tent in his cheek. You raised an eyebrow - was Miguel jealous?

His hand came to brush against your thigh, his fingers moving up until they settled and gripped you, pulling you towards him with this simple grip until your noses touched.

"I didn't like very much how he was so close to you," he admitted, his lips brushing yours.

He came to kiss you, demanding, his lips pressing almost brutally against yours as his other hand came to rest on the small of your back, the latter pressing to bring you closer to him.

You tried to respond to his kiss, his lips and jaw so strong that you felt he was going to engulf you.

He came and kissed your neck, a small sigh of comfort coming from between your lips, which were puffed out and moistened by his kiss.

"You know," you said softly as your fingers ran through his hair, "he never stood a chance against... you right ?"

The statement made his ego swell, as if a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders and he felt so light. His lips tenderly kissed your neck, and you felt it.

He sucked at your skin, marking it delicately. He needed, needed the others to know that you had someone. And although you both wanted what you had to be private, he had a terrible desire for people to know that you belonged to him, and not just anyone. He came back to your lips.

"Say that you're mine."

He had to hear it, from your lips that were full of him. You moistened them with a flick of your tongue, his eyes attentive, dark.

"I'm yours," you affirmed softly.

He came to kiss you again, pulling away from your lips to let his fall on your cheek.

"Make me believe it," he said, drunk on your skin. "Say that again."

His kisses covered your skin, wanting to coat it entirely with his lips so that he didn't miss any part of it.

"I'm yours," you whispered, drowning in his adoration as your fingers caressed his cheek.

"Again," he whispered as his lips kissed your eyelid.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your other hand coming around his chest to bring him closer to you.

"Again..." his voice was barely audible, kissing the tip of your nose.

Of course you were his, everything already belonged to him. Did he want your heart? It was full of him. Did he want your thoughts? He had replaced every one of your ideas. Did he want all of you? He would only have a body and a soul that was already attached to him.

When his lips returned to yours, it was you who kissed him, and he melted under the sensation of your lips on his.

"I'm yours."

Your eyes gazed at each other, each living in the other, and he wrapped his arms around you, pressing you hard against him, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment.

He wouldn't let any weeds near his flower.

[redbullgirly]

Hi! Can you write something about Lando x reader where she wants to wait till marriage to have sex and how'd he react to this? I'll leave the rest to you, it doesn't have to be a whole fic, maybe just a small blurb. Thank you <3

SAND AND CONFESSION [LN4 oneshot]

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You and Lando have been going out for few weeks, maybe months now. While you're enjoying each other's company on a beach with sunset behind your backs, you decide to tell him you want to wait with sex till marriage.

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: English isn't my first language and I honestly didn't write for a while, so if some sentences are kinda weird or sloppy, I'm very sorry! Don't be afraid to correct me if you find some errors.

Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I hope you and everybody else will like this shorter fic I wrote based on it. I'll appreciate likes, comments, follows, reblogs and any other form of support! :)

The sand beneath your feet was still warm, though the sun had almost set behind the fluffy clouds on the horizon. You ran up the beach, trying to get as far from the sea as you could, before the curly-haired man could throw you into the waves, messing up your hair. He followed you, laughing and almost tripping, which was probably the only reason you actually managed to escape to the laid out blanket with your things and bags.

You laid on it, your chest covered in droplets of salty water heaving with uneven breaths. Some sand probably stuck to your wet skin, but you didn't mind.

“Y/N, you left me there all alone!” Lando faked a pout, standing above you with crossed arms and a silly smile.

“Yeah, 'cause you tried to drown me!” you fired right back and stuck out your tongue.

He shook his head and stretched out his arm, helping you stand back up. Then, without any warning, he slapped your ass. You squealed his name and tried to punch him, but he dodged effortlessly. May his fast reflexes be damned.

It was getting darker by every minute, the sun now nearly gone from the evening sky. Shadows slowly crept to the beach, and you shivered in the cool air. Lando, the caring boy he was, instantly noticed the goosebumps popping up all over your body. You were both still just in your swimsuits, and it was getting cold. 

He bent down to the bag you took to the beach with you and took out a big towel. “C'mere baby,” he mumbled, and when you took a step towards him, he wrapped you and himself up in it. 

Suddenly, you didn't feel cold at all — quite the opposite, really. Lando's firm body was pressed against you, his hands around your waist and faces impossibly close to each other. You could feel his warm breath, smelling after the vanilla milkshake you drank at a cozy café before going to the private beach.

One of his big hands cupped your cheek, your eyes locked in with his intense blue stare. Lando and you were going out for a few weeks, even months now. You didn't put any label on it, maybe too afraid of the feelings that bubbled in your stomach every time that exact expression appeared in his eyes. The one of pure adoration and happiness, as if you'd give him the Moon. And honestly? If he ever asked, you probably would. Or at least try.

As if the boy could read your thoughts, his smile deepened, and he finally closed the remaining distance between you two. His lips felt soft and hard against yours at the same time, asking and demanding all at once. Lando was always careful at the start, but as soon as your body relaxed, and you gently bit his bottom lip, the kiss heated up pretty quickly.

He moaned into your mouth and his hold on your waist tightened. This wasn't your first time making out, but it never felt so intense, so breathtaking before. You struggled to keep pace with him, though you'd lie if you said you didn't like it. However, when his hands slipped under the towel that was still wrapped around your bodies, and tugged onto your bikini straps, you pulled away. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen and hair messy.

He stopped, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you questioningly, eyes wide. You realized Lando thought he did something wrong, again. And that made you feel even worse than before.

“What's wrong, babe?” he asked in a quiet voice, his hand still cupping the side of your cheek. You wanted to look down, ashamed and not knowing how to say what had to be said, but Lando didn't let you. “You can tell me Y/N. I won't be angry or anything.”

It was his assurance and sweet voice that caused you to sight and swallow thickly.

“I… there's something I need to tell you,” you whispered. He just nodded, listening curiously. “So, I feel weird saying it, but… I never actually… you know.” You point between you and him. “I never did this before,” you confess, not able to look him into the eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That's no problem at all-” You put your finger on his lips, silently asking him to be quiet.

“And,” you say, making him know that's not all you wanted to say, “I don't want to. Not until marriage.”

Now he seems surprised, taken aback even. It's clear he's processing your words for a moment, while you almost faint from the nerves. You're worried he won't understand. That now, when you told him he won't get what most men want, he'll break up whatever you two have going on.

But he does nothing like that. No, he nods slowly, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A smile that soon turns into the grin you know so well by this point. And then, Lando pulls you closer and whispers in your ear: “Well, good thing I plan on marrying you one day.”

And even though he says it in a joking voice, wanting to lighten up the atmosphere, you know right there and then that deep down, he means it.

THE END

[crazyoffher]

BEST INTEREST.

sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself back in a jealous ex's bed.

warnings: smut (18+) - missionary (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as "cock" during some points, teasing, one instance of pussy-slapping, withheld orgasm, dom!s + sub!r

word amount: 3600+

a/n: i wanna make this a part two, but i don't know if i would even commit to it.

“Aren’t you sweet, hm?” The curl of fingers traced under your chin made you shiver for all the wrong reasons. You quickly scanned the room, and the best you could muster was a tight-lipped smile toward her, revealing vulnerability in her eyes. You were naturally flirtatious; that much was true, and she detested it more than she enjoyed it.

Call it condescending, a way to patronize—immature even—but the bruising hold of her calloused hands as she holds your waist and thrusts forward, veins popping from the sheer tightness of her hold. The way she made you feel—you hated it more than you loved it—oh, do you love it. 

To stare at her, you wouldn’t tear your eyes away from the clutch on her glass. It dawned a hold much less broad than the one she’d sensually have around your body at times, pulling you into her.

Though apart romantically, the sexual aspect couldn’t have opened as wide as it rather shouldn’t have. A click sounded from your tongue as you watched Sam stand in front of you, drenched from the outside rain with a look in her eyes that craved more than just a ‘talk’, not even 24 hours after she slammed the door shut to your shared apartment and left you crying in the shared bed.

That was the start, and all that resulted from it was sheer roughness that pleaded mercy on your body, but growing desire in your soul.

You didn’t know she’d be in the college bar on this day; Tara wasn’t with her, though it looked like she had been coerced into attending by the Meeks-Martin twins. Heavy eyes locked with stressed ones, and you pretended the feeling in your stomach watching her eyes darken when the random man’s hand on your thigh didn’t appear.

“I think I might head out now. I-”

“Are you sure? It’s only nine; why don’t you stay a little longer?” He cocked his head sideways and, if even possible at this point, traveled his hand farther up your leg. You let out a small yelp, quickly jumping off the barstool and spilling some whiskey in the process, before shrugging your reactive expression off with a forced grin. To have his hand move much further up, like his plan, and graze over the boundary-breaking point would have Sam’s built frame consuming enough rage to bash his head against the countertop.

“I’m sure of my answer. Have a good night… you,” and in a sheer failure to remember his name, you swung down the rest of your whiskey before beelining toward the door, having already caught wind of Sam standing the moment you jumped off the barstool.

“Letting people touch all over you now?” The barbaric tone coming from those sweet lips would have failed your stance at that moment, but instead, it only desired you to turn around and face her.

“It’s called flirting, Samantha. Getting back out in the dating ga-”

“You don’t even like men!” Her shouts bounced off the walls of the secluded alleyway that you had absent-mindedly wandered into moments before. “You think I don’t know why you’re doing this to me?”

Of course, Sam knew why you had let a man feel you up moments before, a week ago, and then two weeks before; jealousy tactics riled up the woman just enough to get you what you desired. However, you would never truly admit that.

You started, “I’m not surprised; I shouldn’t be after all. Making everything about yourself; it’s what you’ve always-” Sam’s sudden movements almost caused your legs to rip out from under you. Finding yourself pushed against the wall by the proclaimed dominant girl, with retractive muscles flexing from the short sleeves of her shirt, she had a dangerous look that made it almost impossible for you to cross her any further.

“What you’re going to do,” you hadn’t noticed until that moment how close she was to you, her breath fanning your face in a more sensual way than you’d like to admit, “is stop fucking around with me and let me take you home. Now.”

You had the impression that a serpent was wrapping itself around your back, and as the pain between your legs began to intensify, chills from her insistent voice filled your body. “And if I say no?”

“That’s not an option.”

The sheets of Sam’s bed were soft against the realms of your skin; you were wearing nothing but your panties while her icy hands rested on your chest. You first protested in the alleyway, resisting Sam’s tugs at your arms, but ultimately succumbed to her sweet mouth joining yours in desperate kisses. 

You couldn’t keep away from one another, no matter how hard you tried.

Sam knew what kind of person you were—she presumably knows you better than you know yourself—and so she knew how you felt, and you felt her.

Her hands slid along the ridges of your ribs, which flared from your deep breaths, making you tremble at her fingertips—so light yet humiliating. The only clothing gone was the cross-body wrap over her chest from earlier outside motions, and your naked thigh rested against the cotton of her jeans. Her gaze was drawn away from the trail that her hands were following, and instead to the peculiar details of your body—a body she'd seen many times before, but her gaze raked over the scars of a past you'd wished to forget, as well as the marks that Sam herself had voluntarily made.

Her hands met your inner thighs, delivering a tough squeeze and placing a falsely delicate kiss on your knee. Those eyes, which were always filled with great emotion, raked up the delicacy of your body before meeting a set of glazed eyes that stared back at her.

The look in her eyes was one of familiarity. Her hands twitched eagerly, like she was unable to restrain herself with such visionary strength any longer. She beckoned for release, not just from the contentments of pleasure but of a full release from you—if she could even manage a week without you curled up in her bed, head resting on her chest, fast asleep after an ignorant night out.

Sam saw it as though you alone were to blame, as though you were the only reason she was unable to let go, but in your eyes and in the manner you treated her when she was pleading for your touch, she only had herself to blame in the end.

“What are you waiting for?” “Hm?” Her eyes furrowed at the look in yours; previously daunting and kind eyes now darkened in the manner of needing sensation but also the unknowing barricade that was preventing it. “You’re hesitating. Why?”

“I can’t take in you and your body for just a moment? I can do whatever I want with you.” Her tone deepened, almost to a low whisper, but you weren’t buying it for a second. She knew you better than you likely knew yourself, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t read her the same.

You pushed her off, to her surprise, and sat up on the bed, ignorant of the bareness of your body, but another matter lingered in your mind. “No, you’re just regretting this.”

“Why would I regret this- hey!” She grabbed your arm after your quick attempt to leave the bed. You were back on the mattress with Sam straddling your lap and holding your arms to your sides before you could even utter a protest. Her hand met your jaw, cupping it in a harsh hold, and turning your head to face her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Avoiding myself from being another quick fuck.”

“Well, good luck with that.” Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own—or maybe it was just the versatility that Sam’s actions could lengthen to—as she popped two fingers in your mouth to prevent any other words that might make her feral at the hands of your brattiness. “It’s all you’re good for.”

You knew she didn’t mean it, and that mindless confirmation allowed you to feel something within yourself other than offense, much more like deprivation. You failed to notice all that time how close she had been to you, her hot, clearly bothered breaths hitting your skin as the fog behind her eyes contemplated her next move. 

“Don’t try that again, ever.” You were too inebriated to even process her words, preoccupied with her fingers tickling your throat and the obvious strap in her pants, even as she spoke in the most staged and artificial voice possible in an attempt to make you feel horrible. All you could do was nod your head in understanding. The sight of you below her—lightly sucking on her fingers with glazed eyes, all ready for her—was enough for Sam to finally snap.

She slid off your lap and into the crevice between your legs. With her free hand, she tugged at your left arm, then your right, toward her belt buckle. “Take it off.”

You did so without a second thought, and Sam grinned mentally at your submission. "Good, baby, now unbutton my pants.” You did as she said, feeling the fabric around her waist relax as you undid the button. She was using one hand to keep your mouth drilled shut with her fingers and the other to stroke your hair.

“Pull them down,” and short of a second later, Sam’s pants pooled down to her knees, leaving her in underwear that couldn’t hide the comically large strap—her biggest—even if it tried. “Now, do me a favor and pull these down too.” She motioned to her underwear by thrusting her hips forward ever so lightly, hitching your breath in anticipation of what awaited you. Trembling fingertips met the waistband of her underwear, lightly grazing her defined skin before letting her underwear pool down to meet her jeans.

You knew better than to touch her anywhere without her permission, no matter how much you desired to have your hands on her. Sam stripped off her shirt and bra, mentally shaking her head at the sight of you drooling over her perfectly rounded breasts. Amid admiration, you jolted at the warming feeling of the strap’s tip grazing over your clit; you hadn’t even registered the discarding of your undergarments per Sam’s hands, but you weren’t complaining.

“Oh, fuck.” Your hips thrust forward, as if they had a mind of their own, to feel more of what Sam’s teasing could offer. Though you were aware of the usual punishments received for acting out of order, something in Sam’s mind allowed you to grind desperately against the strap she wore, finding ecstasy in your desperate ruts. A finger traced along the inner sides of your right thigh, drawing delicate and smoothing shapes while nearing your core; it lingered further, tracing the outline of your reddening pussy before hastily sliding into you.

Your moan was deafening and one of shock. “Fuck! Sam…” It had quickly morphed into a whine, feeling the slow pace of her lone finger fasten as you bucked your hips up once more, then twice, and thrice. How good you could feel was beyond your imagination. “Don’t get greedy.”

“I’m no—ot.” Your breathing grew heavier from your efforts; sweat was building on your forehead, and it wasn’t enough. You looked up at Sam, who was attracted to your desperate expression. You wanted—no, needed—for her to overstimulate you, whisper muddy words into your ear, and simply grab your hair and fuck you until you were twisted past breaking. “Please, Sam.”

“Please, what?” Sam bucked her hips lightly, gaining pressure on your needy clit and causing you to squirm in pain at the lack of relief. “Use your words. I don’t have all day.”

It was hard for you to speak when Sam thrust forward continuously now, adding more and more pressure to your clit while her finger stuck inside you, occasionally curling her finger within you and allowing you loud yelps. “Please just fuck me. Please, Sam, I need you so bad.” The voice that spoke these words wasn’t yours, no, because they were three octaves higher and overly desperate for a fake cock

Your desperation always reached new levels from each meeting the two of you had, finding yourself more infatuated and needing than the last meeting, but not less for the next. It was unrecognizable to you, and you found yourself unconsciously more addicted to Sam every time you felt her smooth body rake against yours—mostly for the binding fact that, toward the end of each night, you came to the sudden realization that you couldn’t claim her as yours anymore. You were a romantic, once a teenager who gagged at the idea of estranged hookups without any purpose to them, now finding yourself a pawn of stress relief to a jealous ex.

Unfortunately, the sex was too good for you to not think twice. Every. Time.

“That bad, hm?” She curled her finger once more, cursing herself mentally at the pulsating feeling of your clit aching against her thumb, slowly tracing circles while adding a second finger inside. You squirmed, begging Sam for some sort of release; you couldn’t handle the snail's pace of her fingers working— and just like that, her movements became ferocious.

Your back arched off the bed, hands finding their way to the bedsheets to pull at them while the squelching sounds of your wet cunt filled the room. You felt too good. Sam was a pro, finding education in senseless hookups back in Modesto, but after you, she wouldn’t even think back to them anymore.

The moans you ached grew progressively louder, phasing between whiny whimpers and groaning pleas as you felt the white-hot burning in your stomach, thigh muscles starting to contract on their own and close in on Sam’s hand. “You know,” her voice was chilled, and it scared you, “orgasms hit you harder when they’ve been delayed.” She thrust her hand forward, curled her fingers inside you again, and then pulled them out of your dripping cunt. Sick of the burn that was still present in your stomach, you whined her name, and she slapped you on the pussy, making you cross your legs and lean to the side in response to the stimulation.

She let out a small laugh at how swiftly you became a ball of putty for her to mold. “You’re gonna thank me in a couple minutes,” she said, making eye contact with you, taking her two fingers that were previously inside you and putting one inside her mouth, jerking her finger while sucking on it. She took her other finger, “open,” and upon compliance, stuck it inside your mouth, jerking her finger back and forth while you copied her movements. When she removed her finger, a pop sounded from your mouth, her hand moving upward to ball your hair in her fist.

“Sam…” Despite your sexual frustration, you couldn’t help but give a second thought to the large cock adorning her strap harness. It was a new one; Sam had only ever owned a few, and this one didn’t bring a sense of familiarity to you in the same fashion as the others did.

Trust me, you would have remembered this one.

“I don’t thi- fuck,” you barely held yourself upright when Sam rubbed the head against your cunt, collecting your slick and gazing at the way it connected between the cock head and your cunt when she retracted it. “It won’t fit.”

With her hips pushed forward, Sam lined up the strap with your cunt, her mouth's curves quirking slightly. “Oh, baby,” she spoke, thrusting the head into your cunt with a loud gasp-moan coming from you. “I’ll make it fit.”

With one hand in your hair, she rested the other on your hip to stabilize you. Groans emitted from your mouth, feeling the stretch of the strap slowly opening you with every lasting second that Sam pushed herself forward. She enjoyed the pained look on your face, knowing that in a short time, that expression would morph into euphoric pleasure, the same lips that your teeth dug into pleading her name with every thrust that she maneuvered.

Sam’s hips met your inner thighs. A sigh came from your mouth in an attempt to relax yourself. “Taking it so well, see?” And you did see the sight of a non-existent gap between you and her, but feeling so filled with Sam’s new favorite strap was turning your brain to mush with each growing second. “Now you just lay there and let me use you, yeah?”

Sam’s hands released from their former positions to curve underneath your knees, bringing your legs up to rest over her shoulders. It gave her a better angle to thrust herself deep inside of you, as deep as she could, and that she did.

The most pathetic whine escaped your mouth when Sam’s hips retracted halfway and snapped forward again, veins protruding from your hands at how tightly you were gripping the sheets. Sam’s hands now snaked around your legs and rested on the fronts of your thighs, leeching for support at the growing pace she was fastening with every thrust that occurred.

Her eyes never looked away from your face. She took in your parted lips, letting out heavy breaths and whiny pleas, and occasionally a loud, sensual moan when the strap came into contact with your g-spot. Your eyes were screwed closed, your eyebrows furrowed so tightly you were sure they’d create wrinkles, and it felt like you were drowning from reality through every fierce thrust that Sam initiated. 

Her groans could have set you over the edge. When she wasn’t the one under you, harness and strap buckled to your waist while her high-pitched whines filled your ears, she was in the opposite position—her rough groans replaced whines, and her hands were all over your body in successful attempts to further stimulate herself.

“Come on- fuck, I know you’re close.” Sam could feel you getting tighter; it was getting harder for her to thrust at the same pace when your walls were closing in on the strap. She bent down and teased your nipples with her fingers, feeling like a tease. They were stimulants to you, sensitive in that area and it only pushed you closer to an orgasm. You could feel the burn rising again. “Hold it.”

Your whines got louder. You hated being denied—Sam was entertained, watching you struggle and squirm under her. It showed she was in control, and with that alone, she could go all night with you. She bucked her hips harder into you, feeling the strap’s base rub against her clit each time the cock head hit your cervix.

In a way, you could tell that she was close too, and you let out a mental sigh of relief. Her groans turned into a half-moan—half-groan, now whimpers slipping out as she was reaching her high. 

Curse words spilled from her mouth, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounced with each thrust that she made, eventually looking to make contact with your big eyes. They sent her silent pleas, and her mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape as her thrusts quickened, if it were even possible by how fast she had been moving per that point.

“Shit, shit.” Her hands were firmer against your skin, and a loud whine passed from her lips. “Cum for me, baby, now.”

It took less than three seconds for the coil within you to finally snap, hands on Sam’s back pulling her into you. Breathy moans left the girl’s lips, biting your neck as her thrusts slowed from within you. She never wanted to pull out; she’d stay inside of you forever if she could. Your breathing became irregular, head resting against Sam’s as you came down from your euphoric high.

Sam’s head nudged against yours, pulling herself up by her elbows to bump foreheads. You could sense the smallest smile on her face without even looking at her mouth, eventually crashing lips in a slow kiss, one inverted to the commotion that happened moments before. That was your favorite part of her—her lips. They spoke volumes, sweet nothings (most of the time), and were so undeniably full and perfectly shaped that you couldn’t help but constantly stay glued to them.

It had been weeks since a situation familiar to this arose between the two of you. You had dodged calls, texts, ignored messages forwarded from Sam to you through Tara, and even forced your roommate to communicate that you weren’t inside whenever she’d show up at your dorm. You tried to get over her, saying that enough was enough. Unfortunately, the moment you locked eyes with her in the college bar earlier, you knew that you were going home with her that night.

Her bulky arms slid underneath you to your back, wrapping around you in a hug before flipping you over. Your body rested on top of hers now, big brown eyes staring into yours with nothing but overwhelming emotion floating within them.

Her voice was one of whispers. “I missed you, baby.”

You refused to believe it, you always had. Why would she miss you? She was the one who ended it, made you feel like shit and made only empty promises toward the end of your relationship. She closed herself off toward you.

“Missed what? Fucking me?” You let out a small laugh, your smile soon fading when you saw that her expression hadn’t changed.

“You, (Y/N). I missed you.”

[boyfriendstevie]

Idea: bf!!stevie who’s lovesick and has to Jack off after every date, and you who somehow get that information out of him

Something silly but sweet! <3

omg i'm so sorry this took me so long, i've been hella busy. but i finally got around to writing it and it got away from me!!! i hope this is what you were looking for hehe | gn!reader, handjob, kind of slightly subby steve? idk. 1.4k. mdni!!! 18+ only!!!

happy to help

“What were you doing when I called last night?” Your question is totally innocent, completely curious as to why Steve didn’t answer when you called his house, and yet, he flushes, pink crawling up his neck to his cheeks. “Thought you would’ve been home by then.”

“Yeah, I-I was—“ Steve stutters, suddenly nervous as his mind flashes to the memories of what he’d actually been doing. 

You pout so sweetly it kills Steve, your bottom lip pushing out, brows furrowing, “Well then why didn’t you answer?” He knows you’re not mad with the way your fingers play with his as you stare up at him. 

“Uh…” he’s not sure how to answer without revealing that he’d dropped you off at home after your date, went back to his own house, and immediately had to jack off to the thought of you. 

It’s not his fault, okay? You’re perfect in every way — funny, kind, smart, and yeah, so fucking beautiful. The relationship is still fairly new, so you haven’t had sex yet, which is totally okay, Steve would never pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do, but he’s still a man. He has needs, alright? So, yeah, he has to jerk off as soon as he gets home every time he sees you. 

And last night, he hadn’t been expecting you to call so soon after your date — not that he would ever mind — so he was a bit preoccupied, with his fist around his cock, filthy sounds echoing in his room as he fucked up into his hand, wishing it was you. And then you called, pretty voice crackling over the answering machine, and Steve was done for. He’d called you back, of course, just as soon as he’d cleaned up, so you were none the wiser. 

When he doesn’t answer your question right away, you giggle and tease, “What, were you jerking off or something?”

Steve’s eyes go wide at that, cheeks impossibly pinker as he stumbles over his response, “Wh-what? No, I—“

You quickly sit up from where you’ve been laying in his lap, your own eyes going wide as you giggle again, “Oh my god! You totally were!”

Even though he doesn’t have any reason to be, Steve is thoroughly embarrassed, head tipping back onto the couch with a loud groan, hands pulling from your grasp to cover his face. He speaks from behind his hands, voice weak and muffled, “Shut up! So what if I was. I’m not saying I was, but if I was…”

“Stevie,” you coo softly, fingers wrapping delicately around his wrists, pulling them from his face, “there’s nothing wrong with that! Hell, I got myself off last night, too.”

Steve nearly chokes at that, shifting uncomfortably, “Oh my god, you can’t just say that shit, babe.”

“Why not?” you know you’re being a menace now, but you can’t help it. 

“‘Cause I’m gonna have to do it again!”

“Well, what if I wanna help?” you ask coyly, pushing your lips out into another pout as you lean in closer to Steve. 

“Christ, baby—“ Steve’s chest heaves, eyes darting almost frantically from your eyes to your lips, “I-I don’t… don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with yet, and—“

“Stevie, I just said I want to. If you want me to, that is…” 

“Shit, of course I do, honey, I just—“

“So let me,” you huff, cutting Steve off with a kiss as you shift up onto your knees. The couch cushions dip as you throw one leg over Steve’s lap and settle against his thighs, mouth still on his. 

Steve’s breath catches in his throat at your sudden movement, hands moving to your waist to hold you close as you kiss.  It’s a bit messy, your lips sliding against his as your hands make their way down his torso, fingers playing with the string of his sweatpants. You can feel him hard against your thigh, and fuck, you want nothing more than to touch him. So you do, hand slipping under the band of his sweatpants and underwear. 

This is not how you expected your first time doing this with Steve to go, but you can’t say you’re mad about it. He fucking full-body shudders as your thumb brushes over the tip of his cock, fingertips trailing down his length until you can wrap your hand around his cock near the base. You stroke up towards the tip, though it’s a bit difficult with his boxers still on. 

“Can you… ’s hard to touch you like this, can you just—“ you’re not even finished with your question before Steve is shifting you off of his lap so he can shove his pants down his hips. You know Steve’s big, it’s not exactly a secret, but you’re more than a little distracted at the sight of him, “Fuck, Steve, you’re huge.“

He’s already flushed, but the color travels to the tips of his ears and down his neck. He opens his mouth to say something, or maybe laugh, but it gets cut off when you spit in your hand before curling your fingers around him again. You pump him slowly, nearly painfully so, and he groans, a sound that makes you feel hot all over, “Ah, baby, f-fuck—“

“Like that?” you ask, finally pulling your gaze away from your hand to glance up to his face, and find him with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, eyes fighting to stay open. 

“Faster?” Steve pants, eyes meeting yours for only a moment. He’s mesmerized by the motion of your hand, how it looks around his cock. Your hand is so much prettier than his, and he wants to commit it to memory for when you’re not around. 

You hum in acknowledgment under your breath and do as he asks, picking up the pace of your hand, twisting your wrist as you stroke up towards the head. Steve’s eyes squeeze shut, no matter how hard he’s trying to fight it, a stuttered breath escaping his lips as he presses his head to the couch cushions behind him.

The moles dotting his tanned skin that you love so much are on full display, and you can’t resist the urge to lean in and press wet kisses to the expanse of his neck, trailing them up towards his jaw. Steve whines as your hand tightens around him, thumb rubbing over the messy slit of his cock when your hand comes back up. He really is making a mess, precum dribbling from the tip and down the shaft, smearing across his tensed stomach, near his belly button. 

You watch in awe as his tummy clenches, his cock twitching in your hand. It seems like he can’t help himself as his hips thrust up into your touch, another whiny moan escaping his lips, “Oh god, honey, you’re so— nngh— god, you’re so perfect, y’hand feels so good—“

“Y’gonna cum for me, Stevie?” you ask softly, nipping at his neck and his jaw, your hand trailing down to his balls to fondle them gently, “Gonna cum all over my hand?”

“Yes, oh fuck— fuckfuckfuck, baby, ‘m so—“ he’s babbling nonsense, you can only make out half of what he’s saying, and you have to admit you kind of like the way he’s at your mercy, whimpering and fucking himself into the tight grip of your fist. 

“Please cum for me, wanna see you when you cum, baby,” you murmur, doubling down as you stroke his cock quickly.

When your thumb brushes over the tip again, Steve finally cums with a moan of your name, pearly white as it spills over your hand and onto his tummy. He looks so fucking pretty, too, eyes closed in bliss, cheeks pink and glowing, hair falling into his face as he chases his high. It makes your core burn with want, and you hope Steve’s up to the task after he comes back down. 

You keep pumping him, a slow up and down, the wet, filthy sound of your hand on his cock filling the quiet of the room. Steve all but whimpers as his chest heaves, hand shooting down to wrap around your wrist in an effort to get you to stop, “Okay, okay, baby, christ, you’re gonna kill me.” 

It makes you giggle and you finally pull your hand away, bringing your fingers to your lips. Steve swears he’s died and gone to heaven when he watches your pretty fingers slip into your mouth to lick them clean of his cum. You hum around them before pulling them from your lips with a small pop and give Steve a grin, “How was that?”

“A million times better than my own hand, honey, you don’t understand.” 

“Well, I’m happy to help, Stevie.” 

“Sooo… next time you call and I’m… busy, I can just answer anyway?”

“I’d prefer if you do.”

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l six

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.

word count: 8.4k

August 2024

The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.

You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there was no other choice.

After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy had no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, including the overnight routes, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.

You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.

Besides that, Joel had asked you, as a favor to him, to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina, and in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.

By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.

“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.

You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.

“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”

“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”

Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”

You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.

“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”

You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face. 

“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Just temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”

“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone, and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”

“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”

Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”

Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”

“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”

He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you. You had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades, and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.

“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”

“It’s brown,” you answer. 

“Brown? Why brown?”

“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”

Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.

“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”

“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”

Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”

“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did, I would have never in a million years guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”

“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”

You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”

When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity. 

“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”

At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter.

Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”

“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly. 

Was. 

Your throat dries at his use of past tense.

Because you know exactly what that means. 

Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.

By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.

“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”

Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—��

“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”

Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own. 

“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”

He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.

“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy, and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”

Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”

Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin. Me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk. She’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”

Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.

Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.

“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”

“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.

“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”

Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.

“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you. Of course you know that. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing. But openin’ it up to you? That’s been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours, and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”

You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”

“Why’s that?”

You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.

Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”

Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.

“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”

You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.

And he feels the same.

He deepens the embrace.

I love you.

Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.

You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.

You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care. 

Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.

Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.

After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen. 

“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.

“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”

“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair. 

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”

“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.

You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside. 

“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”

“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”

Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.

Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There’s fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”

“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a barn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”

You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.

You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?

It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.

Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same. What if it doesn’t?

His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the breath you’d been holding shakily.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness. 

“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.

“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”

You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”

Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”

Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”

Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked.

Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.

More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word.

It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care. 

It doesn’t matter to him.

Nothing matters to him except for one thing.

Your heart belongs to him. It bleeds with his name.

You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.

And he is yours. 

Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of dark, coarse hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.

His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”

“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”

The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.

He’d grown tense beneath your touch. 

You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.

Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.

Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it. 

Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.

“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precome on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.

Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours. One glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat, and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.

You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily, and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.

Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.

“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precome and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.

Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.

That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet. 

“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”

Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.

“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”

“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”

“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”

Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.

“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.

“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”

Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.

“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”

Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”

Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.

“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.

Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.

“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”

“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”

You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body, and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.

He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.

The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.

Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”

An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.

Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.

You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”

He tries to speak, but he can’t.

You’ve rendered him speechless. 

Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.

Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.

“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”

“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”

Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision. 

It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap and holds you in place, spurts of warm come coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.

You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.

“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.

“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”

Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”

You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”

He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”

“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”

“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin’.”

“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze. 

Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.

[kaleldobrev]

Midnight Confessions

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Dean have a "heart-to-heart" conversation on the way to Stanford to pick up Sam

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Fluff

Authors Note: I've been wanting to use this gif for something for such a long time and I finally found a way to use it | Takes place pre-season one | I've been really enjoying writing pre-season one fics lately! | Can be read as a “sequel” to Comfortable? or as it's own one-shot | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“Good morning Sweetheart,” Dean said, as he noticed your movements were starting to get a little bit more prominent than they had been previously when you were sleeping.

When you awoke, you were surprised to still be in the exact same spot and position as you were in when you had fallen asleep: your head in Dean's lap, and the soles of your boots pressed up against the passenger side door. "Morning Handsome," you replied back, giving him a soft smile. "How long was I out for?"

"Couple of hours," he said. "You were mumbling quite a bit. What were you dreaming about?"

"You're going to think it's stupid," you said all too quickly, slightly embarrassed of the dream you had just had. It was nothing awful or terrible by any means; it was actually one of the most peaceful dreams you've had in a while, well...at least the one you could actually remember at least. But part of the reason you didn't want to tell your boyfriend about it was because you knew how he felt about the white picket fence life. "I'd rather blow my brains out," he's told you on more than one occasion. But it was a life that you dreamed of — and dreamed of doing with him someday.

"I promise I won't think it's stupid," he told you, trying to be reassuring. He briefly looked at you, flashing you his charming smile that you had loved so much before looking back at the road again.

You sighed, before getting up from your position on his lap; moving so your back was now pressed up against the passenger side door. This way, you could have a better angle when you told him about the dream you just had — a better angle to see the disappointment and judgement from him. Because you knew, despite this promise of his, you knew him all too well, knew that he would just laugh. “I dreamed that me and you lived in one of those blue suburbans and I was baking you an apple pie while you watched a Cowboys game on the tv.”

Silence was Dean’s chosen response. At least he’s not laughing, you thought. But you hated the silence that he was giving you as well, because accompanying that silence, his hands started to grip the wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white. “Oh yeah?” He finally said, his tone coming off rather calmer than you had expected him to sound.

You looked down at your hands as you started twiddling your thumbs, almost embarrassed at the confession you had made. “I know it’s stupid, trust me.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, briefly meeting your gaze. “It’s just…unrealistic for people like us,” his tone sounding much more disappointed now, like there was a part of him that had wanted that kind of life. And the truth was, there was a part of Dean that had wanted that life. Wanted a suburbia life. And wanted that kind of life to be with you. But he knew it was a life that he could never have. It was simply just out of his reach. “People like us don’t get white picket fences. We get broken bones and near death experiences.”

You knew that Dean was right; how unrealistic this dream of yours was. To others, it was their normal, but to you it was foreign, a fantasy. “You say that like it’s impossible,” you began. “We’re both still young Dean. We can still get out, sanity still in tact.”

“Y/N, hunting is all I’ve ever known. I’ve been on the road with Sammy and my dad since I was four years old,” his voice starting to sound full of hurt, but with a hint of exhaustion. “The only home I’ve ever known was burnt down and it took my mom along with it.”

“But this is your dads fight Dean, not yours,” you said, trying to be very cautious of your wording. “He should have never dragged you into this crusade of his. He should have given you and Sammy a choice in the matter.” When it came to Dean, he wasn’t very forthcoming with his background. You knew the basics about how him and his family had gotten into hunting, but you never pried as you felt like it wasn’t necessarily your place; his mothers death always being a touchy subject with him. Which you understood, as your own mother died in a house fire similar when you were six months old. But the difference was, your father gave you the choice if you wanted to be a hunter or not. A choice you made when you turned 18.

There was silence between the two of you as Dean refused to look at you, as he was too deep in thought. He wanted to scream at you, tell you to mind your own business. Tell you that you should understand. But he knew that there was no point in yelling at you, no point in getting upset, because as much as he hated to admit it…you were right. “You know, growing up, I wanted to be a firefighter,” Dean said, finally breaking the silence. “But I know that’ll never be in the cards for me.”

“It still can be,” you commented. “I think you’d make a pretty great one.”

You saw him grin from your comment briefly before his face turned stoic again. “I gotta find out what killed our moms first.”

“And then you’ll become one?” You asked, still entertaining the idea with him.

He shrugged. “Maybe,” he grinned again. “How about you? What did you want to do?”

“Veterinarian,” you confessed. “Animals are much better than people.”

“I heard you have to be really smart to do that,” he said turning to look at you.

“Well it’s a good thing I was an AP kid in school,” you grinned.

“Fucking nerd,” he said, letting out a small chuckle, before patting your thigh.

“But I’m your nerd,” you smiled.

“You bet your ass you are,” he smiled back, giving you a wink.

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[wayfayrr]

"Wait no you're not supposed to get hurt."

First of the 400 follower raffle winners!!! took a little longer to write than planned but it's here! This is for @the-moon-files and it's masc!human!reader with the chain, it doesn't touch on all of the hcs I have for humans/hylians but it's made very clear that there is a difference :3c

[masterlist]

“Um, [name]? Are you sure you don’t need a potion, that gash you got on your leg seems like it’ll get infected if you don’t use a potion or anything other than bandages.”

“Thanks for the concern sky but-”

“Yes, I know most potions don’t work for us. It’s why luv and bertie spent so long perfecting recipes that have any positive effect.”

Us? US? After months of traveling with the chain, having to explain new differences between me and them sky decides to drop a bomb like this???? Is he messing with me or something? My face must have said exactly what I’m thinking considering he pulled back with a nervous giggle. 

“I forgot to mention it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you did. It would have been very nice to know I’m not the only human here earlier.”

“Sorry, I was so happy not being the only one anymore that I forgot… to actually tell you. But really can’t this whole thing wait until we’ve dealt with your injury?”

That’s fair, I’m still a tad bitter over it but I can understand. He’s got a look of guilt and concern on his own face now, his hands twitching and half reaching for the gash on my leg before pulling back reluctantly. Begging for my permission to help with puppy dog eyes glancing back and forth simply begging for approval. Hopefully he hasn't noticed that it's a bit worse than just a gash.

“If you’re sure that it won’t just be a waste of supplies then go ahead I guess.”

“I’m certain it’ll help you, not as much as it would the traveller or the champion but it’ll help.”

The potion feels strange in the wound as he goes about applying it, it’s almost similar to antiseptic but with less of a sting. Not anything like what I thought with how the other links down them like it’s honey or something, maybe they just taste a lot better than they feel. Maybe they’re just different for humans. No way to really tell. Before long he’s finished with that though, moving on to simply bandaging it. 

“Skyyyyyyyy you’ve been over here hogging his attention for ages when are y- oh I…”

It seems wind didn’t notice the reason sky’s been ‘hogging’ me then, does that mean that sky was just watching me in the battle. Probably just cause he’s enamored by not being the only human now, nothing to look into beyond that. I’m overthinking it. 

“[name]? When did - Twi said humans are invincible, how did you - how did they - You’re alright right?”

“I’m alright kiddo, sky’s just been helping me with some of his own potions.”

“Wait twi’s been saying what?”

Seems Sky’s just as shocked as I am, he wouldn’t have said anything otherwise, so this isn’t commonly known. Or true but that’s another thing. Was it his attempt at getting wind to not be so wound up that most potions and magic is about as effective on me as carrying water in a sieve. But that just means that if something were to happen, like maybe y’know - right now, he’s going to get more messed up than otherwise. Twilight wouldn’t do that, he’s a bit dense sometimes but he loves the sailor like a brother. Does that mean this is just something he believes himself? He grew up in ordon it’s not impossible.

“Wind please when did Twilight say that?”

“He said it when we found out [name] is a human, why are you so bothered by what twi is saying about him?” 

“I think sky is just worried about any rumours going around, no need to snap at him for it.”

“Yeah, just worried about rumours, yeah.”

“Well if anyone should be worried about those ‘rumours’ it should be ME - what if… what if you got hurt worse… we wouldn’t be able to - we wouldn’t know… even if we were to use a potion it'd just blend in with your blood and we could miss places...”

The exact reason why twilight shouldn’t have told wind this is happening right now, and I don’t know how to comfort him. He’s crying and stressed over me getting hurt despite sky-treating it, despite me being fine. It’s not like it’s just wind upset either, I don’t think I’ve seen sky so stressed in all the time I’ve known him. It’s almost like he’s been caught in a lie, wait now that I think about it his ears look hylian, has he not told the chain either? Too many questions and not enough time or words to get all the answers. And he knows I want them.

“I- I’m going to tell wild that he’ll need to make some more potions. I’ll send twi over as well if he’s not busy with anything else. Your leg should be fine now, just don’t move too quick or take the bandages off unless it’s to replace them with clean ones.”

And now sky’s gone, leaving me with an overwhelmed wind. Who looks honestly more confused over Sky leaving the way he did than upset over me being hurt, which is somewhat of an improvement I guess? It’s better than having him stressed out over a little gash. 

“Was it just me or was sky-”

“Really nervous? I’m sure he’s got a reason to be kiddo, who knows maybe he’s just anxious over me getting infected.”

“INFECTED!?”

Oh, I should not have said that, it’s like wind didn’t even consider that that could possibly happen. And now I’ve sparked his worry all over again. 

“hey I didn't mean to -”

“If you can get infected we've gotta be extra careful and and - [name] we've gotta tell time before he pushes you way too hard and something else happens.”

“Nothing else is gonna happen, I'm fine I promise you that.”

How long is he going to be pouting over me getting injured, it’s not a big deal, I’m not going to die or anything. 

"What're you two doin' that's causin' Sky to act up like some cuccos durin’ a lightnin' storm?"

“IT’S CAUSE [NAME] GOT INJURED, HIS LEG GOT CUT.”

His ears drooped faster than wolfies tail would start to wag if you offered him some pets. Which proves the fact that twilight wasn’t telling wind a lie to make him concerned for no reason, he genuinely thought that humans couldn’t be hurt. I - don’t really know what to think now, I mean it is good that it wasn’t him lying intentionally but how long has he lived with humans, how long has he had to learn that this isn’t true??? He’s what 24? Has Rusl or no one else gotten hurt in any of those twenty-four years? 

“Ya - ya got hurt ‘nd didn’t tell?”

“Well sky was helping me and then-”

“Neither of ya thought ta tell? Y’ain’t think I shoulda known?”

Is - is he going to start crying? I knew twi was pretty soft-hearted but to start crying over me not thinking to tell him about just a small little cut into my leg? Why’s he so personally offended that he wasn’t told any sooner, does he really care so much about someone he’s only met recently? 

“I mean, I thought that’s what sky was going over to you for?”

“I well yeah, yer right, that’s part of why he did.”

“Hey are we missing the point!? [Name] got HURT when you said humans were near invincible!”

“That really isn’t the important thing right now wind, I think twi only said that so you wouldn’t worry about me. Right?”

Go along with it, see on my face that I’m trying to get you to go along with this so that wind doesn’t get more stressed and just go along with it. Please. If he doesn’t then I will never be able to move on from this, and I don’t think that anyone would appreciate being lectured for something that you genuinely have no control over. 

“Right?”

“Ah righ’, wind you know I were only sayin’ that so you wouldn’t worry, yeah?”

“Oh sure you say that now, but before it was all ‘Humans were blessed to be invincible by the spirit ordona because of the goddess hylia’s hatred of them.”

“Aigh’, and I was tellin ya that so you won’t worry.” 

Well wind clearly doesn’t believe him, he doesn’t sound certain of himself either to be honest. But the sailor seems to be done stressing over it now, ran himself out of energy it seems. Nuzzling into my side with a pout. 

“Come on kiddo, it’s not worth a grudge with one of your big bros.”

No response, But a very disappointed twi now. Offended from me not apparently telling him fast enough or whatever, which just feels like a weird reason more than anything. Besides even that it’s not like he’s known me long, he really shouldn’t be as bothered as he is. 

“Wind please, I don’t think it’ll do me any good staying on the floor like this either.”

“...f’ne.”

Hinting at something worse happening did just the trick as I hoped and got him up onto his feet, while giving me the silent treatment as twi helps me to my feet. Just gotta hope that the break won’t get any worse now that I'm standing. Or noticed. I’m already lucky enough that sky didn’t pick up on it, because I know that the second anyone learns it’s going to pull us all to a halt. Hell for all I know he’s hiding that he saw it to go tattle on me to time, never would have known that he could lie so well so I can only hope he won't use it like this. But what do I know, he could do anything just to get some extra sleep in.

[yeonzzzn]

🌕luna nova: sim jake

a vampires bleeding series: three / seven

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 4.9k

synopsis: with dorian after jungwon and jay's mates, the boys and the humans travel to the countryside in hopes of laying low and figuring out what dorian actually wants. you and your twin brother take them into your family's spare house. after learning about their true reasons for leaving the city, more unfortunate events unfold causing the boys to seek help from another source.

genre: acquaintances to lovers, vampire!jake, half vampire!reader, angst, some spice.

warnings: mentions of blood and death, swearing, fire, cute jake ♡

☾ jungwon(1) | jay(2) | jake(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | heeseung(7) ☽

Jake hung his head back, legs slightly lifted and hands gripping the tree branch to keep his balance. 

The sky is a mixture of orange and red, the moon slowly lifting in the distance. 

“It’ll be a new moon soon,” Jake whispered to himself. 

Sunghoon sat beside him, an old Nikon camera held to his face. 

“Capturing it?” Jake asks, his best friend adjusting the camera angle. 

“Of course,” Sunghoon sassed, “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Jake chuckled, “Try getting the angle upside down, it’s still pretty this way.” 

Sunghoon glared down at him, “That’s stupid.” 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jake teased, “You wouldn’t know unless you tried it.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, flipping around into the same position as his friend, holding the camera back to his eye. 

“This isn’t actually that bad,” Sunghoon admitted, “Just need the perf-“

“YOI!!” 

Jungwon dropped down from the branch above, shoving his face into Sunghoon’s camera.

“Capture me instead, Hyung.” 

“When did you ever get here,” Sunghoon snapped, palming Jungwon’s forehead, and shoving him out of the way. 

“Just now,” Jungwon sang, connecting his feet back to the ground. 

Jake sat up, “Where’s the others?” 

“Should be here soon.” Jungwon hummed. 

“You’re more annoying, where’s __?” Sunghoon once again tried to capture a photo of the sunset, just for Jungwon’s face to get right back into the frame. 

“She’s with Jay and __,” he shrugged, “My mate is tired of me.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, “That’s impossible.” 

Jungwon’s eyes lit up, “she’s here!” 

Jake watched the younger runoff, his hands instantly locking onto his mate, embracing her close to him, their smiles ear to ear. 

Jay’s arm was also wrapped around his mate. Jake swears he’s never seen Jay smile as much as he has with her. Their stubborn Jay, is always so serious and self-hatred for what he is just to have folded so easily under her. 

Jake dropped his head in his hands, watching his brothers with their soulmates. A small pit of jealousy forms. 

“Jake, Sunghoon, come down,” Heeseung waved to the two of them, “We need to start this meeting.” 

—

“Wait, you want us to move?” Niki questioned, clearly not liking the idea. 

“It’s what will be best for our pack,” Jungwon crossed his arms, “We have more to protect besides just each other now.” 

Jake twirled his rings around his fingers, taking in the information.

Sunghoon sighed, “Where will we go now? What about our jobs here? School specifically for Niki?” 

“I’ll move if I don’t have to graduate high school again!” Niki raised his hand, “I’ll gladly move if so.” 

“Unfortunately for you,” Jay’s stubbornness at play, “You’re stuck in a seventeen-year-old body, if you don’t attend high school it’ll make it more suspicious.” 

“Not to mention he still acts seventeen,” Heeseung teased, “No one would ever guess that he’s almost two hundred and ten years old.” 

“Says you old man.” Niki teased back. 

Jake laughed along with the banter, happy that it’s been this peaceful. 

“Any other sightings of Lilly?” Sunoo brings back the topic, “Or any other that could be connected with Dorian?” 

Jay’s jaw clenched at the mention of their names, his mate also tensing at the mention, “No. I’ve searched everywhere. Asked around. It’s like both have disappeared.” 

“It’s been almost three months, but we can’t continue to peek over our shoulders,” Heeseung sighed, “Dorian knows where we work, where we all live, where the girls attend college…we need to do what’s best for the pack.” 

“And that’s leaving?” Sunghoon asked, “Again, where would we go?” 

“The countryside,” Jungwon nodded, “It’s away from the city, no one will know who we are.” 

“Or what we are,” Jake mumbled, still twisting the rings around his fingers. 

“Jay and I already found a clinic we will both work at and even a high school for Niki.” Heeseung teased the younger. 

Niki groaned, dropping his head into his hands, “This fucking sucks.” 

“The girls will have a good small community college to continue studies,” Jungwon wrapped his arms around his mate, “Gotta keep this pretty brain learning.” 

“Already smarter than you, Wonnie.” She teased. 

“Baby, I have so many years on you, don’t even.” 

“Anyways,” Jay ignored the lovebirds, “The countryside would be the best bet for us right now. There is also someone who has some knowledge about Dorian, she can keep us up to date.” 

“Another vampire?” Jay’s mate asked.

With a shake of his head, he answers, “No, she’s a dhampir.” 

Jake raised an eyebrow, “Who?” 

—

You pulled the string back, narrowing your vision down to the target, taking a deep breath in, releasing the string and your breath in one go. 

The arrow flew across the field with a quick snap, hitting the target dead in the center. 

You smirked, relaxing your arms. 

A snap of a twig caught your attention, quickly grabbed another arrow to the bow, string touching your cheek, and whipped around to the sound.

“Woah woah! Calm down there Y/N, Jesus.” 

“Archer, I swear to god!” You snapped at your twin brother, lowering your bow, “What if I took your head off!?”

“I’m way too quick, you’d miss.” 

You pointed a finger at the target, “I don’t miss.” 

Archer glared off at the target, ignoring your comment. 

“Anyways, they will be here tomorrow morning,” Archer says, “We need to clean out the spare house.” 

You turn and face the target again, pulling the string back, “Why don’t you go clean it? I’m busy.” 

Archer groaned, “No, you’re helping. You know who they are after all.”

You released the arrow, it once again hitting the middle, “I knew them,” you corrected, “It’s been like a hundred years, they are probably completely different people.” 

Archer sighed, “Y/N, please.” 

You couldn’t resist the pout your brother gave, “FINE!” 

He smiled wide, following behind you towards the spare house. 

“You’re lucky you have a good older sister like me.” You teased him. 

“You are literally five minutes older.” 

Cleaning the spare house took longer than you wanted, but alas it was done. 

“Why did you agree to have them stay here?” Archer asked, sweeping the last bit of dusk into the dusk pan. 

You shrug your shoulders, “The way Heeseung and Jay were talking, it seemed important, the least I could do.” 

Archer slumped onto the couch, “Why are they coming out here? City too much for them?” 

You shrugged again, “I didn’t ask.” 

Archer narrowed his eyes at you, trying to read your very good poker face, “You’re lying to me.”

You looked away from your brother, “I really don’t know.” 

Archer knew he couldn’t press anymore, and let it at that, excusing himself to go home and sleep. 

The boys arrived sooner than you expected that next morning. 

You leaned against the wooden post on the porch, crossing your arms as their car pulled up to the house. 

You caught two other scents with them, two you didn’t recognize…two that aren’t vampires. 

One by one, the seven of them trailed out of the van, two female humans following behind. 

“Lee Heeseung, you didn’t tell me you were carrying humans with you!” you snapped, your mood completely changing. 

Jungwon and Jay quickly pulled the females behind them, giving you glares. 

You notice immediately, your body and mood relaxing. 

“You didn’t say you had mates, I only prepared blood bags for you seven.” 

Jake held up two bags worth of food, “We went shopping when we got into town.” 

You studied him, his half smile sending flutters in your stomach. 

“Long time no see, Y/N.” His Aussie accent was as adorable as ever. 

You nodded, “Indeed it has been,” you looked between the other boys, stopping back at Jungwon, Jay, and their mates, “Please come inside.”

Everyone settled in one by one, the boys all drinking from the bags. 

Jungwon’s mate wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, her smile never once fading from the sight of seven vampires drinking blood from bags. 

Jay’s mate was even more unphased. She seems just as stubborn as Jay is. 

“Never thought I’d see you two with mates,” You said leaning against the dinner table, laying your head in the corner of your arm, “Mostly nice to know someone can tame that stubbornness of yours, Jongseong.” 

Jay shot daggers through you, “Don’t you have something better to be doing than hanging around here?”

You sat up, giving him a smug smile, “Nope! I want to know why you’ve come to me begging to help hide you here in my parents' spare house, along with your mates.” 

The room went quiet, you looked at each of them one by one. 

“Someone better speak up.” 

“It’s Dorian,” Heeseung finally answered. 

Your heart stopped at the name, “Why the fuck are you here!” You stood up from the table, staring Heeseung down, “What the fuck is going on?!” 

“He’s after my mate,” Jungwon was the first to speak up, “He tried to take her from me.”

“And he almost drowned and killed mine,” Jay spoke in the calmest voice you’ve ever heard. Pulling his mate's hair back, revealing two scars on her neck, “He drank every ounce she had and dropped her off a cliff.” 

You watched as Jay dropped his forehead to hers, his jaw clenched tightly. 

Jungwon also brought his mate closer to him, their hands intertwined. 

You sat back down, “Dorian wants your mates, and probably wants you all dead.” 

They all nodded. 

“He joined up with Lilly,” Sunghoon chimed in, “He must have something else planned besides tearing our pack apart.” 

“And you came to me, why?” You asked. 

Heeseung sighed, “We needed someplace safe, mostly for the girls. But for the safety of our pack. Y/N, you’re the only one who can help.” 

You crossed your arms, squeezing yourself tightly, “What if he finds you all here? He’ll kill us too!” You took a deep breath in, “I have Archer to protect.” 

“Please, Y/N,” Jungwon asked, with pure desperation on his face. 

“Ugh! Fine! If he shows up, I’m leaving you guys here alone.” You quickly stood up, heading for the door, “I apologize deeply for what Dorian has caused for you all, but if he’s planning something, we all need to discuss that soon.”

You stormed off to your house in a second, grabbing your own bag of blood from the fridge and dropping onto your couch, nearly scaring Archer to death. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, “Did they settle in fine?” 

You nodded, the iron liquid making its way into your system. 

Archer could sense how pissed off you were from the beginning, “Y/N, what is wrong? Why are they here?” 

You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. 

Archer rolled his eyes, groaning, “I’ll go ask them myself.” 

“Dorian.” 

Archer laughed, “You’re joking, nice joke.” 

“I wish I was,” you sighed, “He’s after their mates and wants to kill them all. They are here to hide.” 

Archer stood to his feet, “What if Dorian follows their scent here?!” 

“Trust me Arch, I know!” You snapped back, “All we can do is pray the witches' spell they put on this town helps hide their scents.” 

Archer started pacing back and forth, “What else did they say?” 

“Lilly joined him.”

Archer groaned again, sitting down on the floor, “Y/N, we have lived peacefully…”

“Archer you don’t have to tell me this,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Do I need to remind you what Dorian did?!” 

You stood up quickly, your index finger dug into your twin's chest, “Shut up, Archer.”

“He killed our parents!!” 

You walked away from him, opening the front door ready to sprint away. 

“Dorian killed your mate!” 

You stopped in the doorway, staring down at the wooden steps, and a pair of shoes suddenly appeared. 

Your eyes followed up on who they belonged to.

“Y/N,” his soft Aussie voice whispered your name.

“Don’t, Jake.” you pushed past him, running as fast as you could. 

—

Jake found you by the pond, watching the fish swim in circles. 

“Y/N…” Jake whispered. 

You turned around and looked at him, “What do you want?” 

“We were friends once which seemed like a lifetime ago…I didn’t know about your parents or your mate.” 

You looked away from him, moving your knees to your chest, “It was after you guys found Niki and left that city to get away from Dorian. We moved out here to do the same. We weren’t so lucky.” 

Jake sat beside you, “Do Heeseung and Jay know?” 

You nodded, “That’s why they didn’t want to tell me over that phone call why they needed to come here.” 

Jake twisted his rings again, “What does it feel like? What did it feel like?” 

You looked over at him, “You mean having a mate, and what it felt like losing them?” 

Jake nodded.

You took a deep breath in, staring off at the water and its movement from the wind. 

“It’s exactly like they all described,” you hug your legs tighter, “Being a dhampir, I didn’t think I could even feel all the parts of having a mate.”

Jake also pulls his legs to his chest, leaning his head on his knees, putting his full attention on you. 

“My father, the vampire side, always talked about the knot that connects you. My mother, my human side, always talked about the warm feeling you get, how the butterflies flutter and your words jumbled together. That you’ll know you found your soulmate.” 

You looked at Jake, giving him a soft smile, “I didn’t think I would even have a soulmate, who could love something like me? Half monster, half human…”

“Okay Jay,” Jake teased, “Everyone is capable of love.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Thank you Captain Obvious!” 

He smiled, “It’s true!”

“Anyways,” you looked away from him, feeling your face slightly flushing, “When I met him, I knew immediately. That knot tied together, pulling me to him. But I also felt that warm feeling, the butterflies and I could barely speak.”

You looked down at your shoes, fighting hard to continue the story. 

“But Dorian came, wanting the witch's spells that my parents were protecting. Obviously, he didn’t get what he wanted and killed them. My mate happened to witness the murder and Dorian…”

Jake tucked his lips between his teeth, knowing exactly what happened without you even having to say it. 

“I was at the market with Archer, and we both felt the connection to our parents fade. But when Dorian took him from me…” 

You clenched the fabric over your heart, the pain resurfacing, “I felt that knot snap. I felt his last breath. And then there was nothing. My colorful world turned dark. My reason for living…gone.”

Jake tried to find the right words to say, knowing nothing could even help. 

Jake clearly doesn’t have a mate. He doesn’t understand how it would feel to have one or lose one. 

But he fully understood now why Jay and Jungwon have gone to these measures to protect their own. 

“I obviously still have Archer,” you continued, “He was there to help keep me from going off in the deep end. It was Archer's idea to have the witches in the neighboring town conceal our scents here to protect us and the rest of the people living here.” 

Jake sat up straight, “Wait.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Yeah?”

Jake stood to his feet, “I know what Dorian could possibly be wanting.” 

—

Heeseung covered his mouth deep in thought, “Y/N, what other information can you gather about the witches?”

You shook your head, “I don’t know, we just grow the crops and take care of the land and send them herbs when they ask to keep them protecting us.” 

“He wants the spells for something,” Jake jumped in, “He clearly does. It would make sense why he’s been feeding as much as he has lately, to build strength.” 

“Then what would he want with me?” Jungwon’s mate spoke up, “He never met me before until that night.” 

“It must be our blood type,” Jay’s mate chimed in, “Jay said when we met that he can tell my blood type based on the smell, I’d assume it’s the same for you all?” 

Everyone except you nodded, you weren’t so blessed with that side of the vampireness. 

“So that clearly means, these witches spells that he wants,” Sunoo put the pieces together, “Needs a specific blood type for it to work. knowing Dorian, he has __ blood from when he almost killed her.” 

Jay’s mate looked away from the table. You could only imagine what she could have felt that night. 

Jake crossed his arms, rubbing his fingers on his chin, trying to put more puzzle pieces together. 

He looked over at you, studying your face as if looking at you would unlock all the secrets of the world. 

And then it actually did. 

Jake took a deep breath in, your scent flowing through him. 

“He also wants Y/N.” 

You look at him, confused, “What would he want with me?” 

Jake tilted his head, “You also have that blood type he needs, on top of where to find the witches for their spells. The only reason you’ve been safe is because of the protection spell.” 

Your body went still. Everything is connected. 

“That makes sense why he always disappeared for months at a time,” Jay tapped his finger on the table, “He is going back and forth between trying to take our girls and find Y/N.” 

“Good thing we came here then,” Jungwon leaned onto the table, “Now we know what he’s after, we have to find the witches before he does. He must know we skipped town by now.” 

“I can go tomorrow,” you said, “I know how to get there, but we all can’t go together.” 

“Why not?” Jay’s mate questioned, “Safety in numbers?”

“That’s not how witches work, babe.” Jay sighed. 

“Witches and vampires don’t get along,” Sunghoon explained, “They will notice seven full vampires and a dhampir, they will conceal themselves and either kill us when we get too close or flee.” 

You nodded, “They will more than likely flee due to the fact you all are in a pack, they won’t stand a chance if they fight you all. Which is why I need to go alone.” 

“No,” Jake protested, “you’re not going alone.” 

You glared at him, “They know me.” 

“And once you leave this town, Dorian could pick up your scent.”

You hated to admit that Jake was right. The witches only were protecting this town, and their town, not in between it. 

“I’m going with you.” Jake couldn’t let you do this alone. 

And you knew you couldn’t stop it from joining. 

“Okay,” Heeseung said, “we will come up with a more solid plan in the morning.” 

Everyone agreed. 

“Can I-“ Niki started. 

“No.” Heeseung and Jay said at the same time. 

Niki stood in silence, looking between the two of them, “What?”

“You start your first day of school tomorrow.” Heeseung teased the younger. 

Niki pouted, “Hyung, you’re joking?”

Heeseung gave him a smile, “Go to bed.” 

—

Jake sat against the wall on the bed, trying to go through his own game plan for the following day. 

He couldn’t explain it, but after seeing you after all these years was messing with his head. 

You've filled his every thought. It even surprised him that he was so quick to join you tomorrow. 

Jake ran his hands through his hair, his stomach doing flips. 

There was a knock on the door, startling Jake out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah?” 

You opened the door, peeking your head through, “You’re still awake?” 

“Obviously.” 

You slipped inside the room, slowly closing the door behind you. 

You leaned against the wall, studying him and his white t-shirt and plaid-designed boxers. 

“You look like you are getting ready for bed?” 

Jake shook his head, “Too deep in thought to sleep.” 

“Getting cold feet about tomorrow? Sim Jaeyun?” you teased him, your heart did a flip as he bit his lower lip with a small smirk. 

“Haven’t been called that in a while,” Jake looked down at his hands, his fingers once again twisting his rings. 

“I was one of the only ones who called you by your actual name.” you brought the memory back. 

Jake nodded, “We didn’t know each other very long then, did we?” 

“Yeah, it was a very short time in that town.”

“I guess one thing about being immortal is having to skip around because locals notice you aren’t aging,” Jake leaned his head against the wall, “You at least still age.” 

You softly giggled, “Yeah I guess I was blessed in that department, I still age but it’s just slower.”

“Gives you a better chance at living an actual life.” 

“How long were you guys in the city?” curiosity filled you.

“Oh shit, awhile,” Jake let out a small whistle, “We moved around a bit into different areas, but once Heeseung and Jay made their names at the hospital and clinic, it made it harder to move.” 

You nodded, “It’s good you were able to stay in one place for a bit longer, ya?” 

Jake softly smiled, “Yeah. Eventually, we were all able to leave what we ended up calling the safe house and got our own places. Heeseung and Jay had their own separate places. Sunghoon and I lived together. Niki was with Sunoo. Jungwon kinda just floated.” 

“I always forget that Jungwon is your pack leader.” You laughed. 

“Why? Is it so hard to believe?” Jake pulled his knees to his chest, waiting for your answer. 

“No, Jungwon is perfect for it,” you quickly spat out, “I don't think anyone else could corral you guys like him.” 

Jake nodded in agreement. 

The room fell silent. Jake could hear how fast your heart was beating. 

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” Jake tilted his head, his hair slowly falling from its part. 

You tucked your lip between your teeth, breaking eye contact with him. 

How do you admit to an old acquaintance that he’s been making your heart go crazy from the moment he stepped foot out of the van? That even all those years ago you may have had a small crush on him. 

Jake could see the blush on your skin, the goosebumps on your skin, and how your chest moved with your increased breathing. 

“Y/N.” 

You looked up at him, the look of want was on his face. 

“Come here.” 

And that’s all it took. You were on him in a second. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair, lips touching his as if your life depended on it. 

Jake’s hands squeezed your hips as he pulled your body even closer to his. 

The mutual pining that was between the two of you was driving Jake up a wall. 

Jake slowly snaked his hands under your shirt, resting them on your back, 

You didn’t know what came over you, you reached for the hem of Jake’s shirt, quickly sliding it up and off his body. 

Your hands slid back down his bare chest, fingers tracing his abs as you shoved your tongue down his mouth. 

Jake felt himself losing control, the mixture of the hormones and your blood was like a drug to him. 

He couldn’t get enough of you. 

Jake wrapped your legs around him, quickly changing positions, and laying you on your back. 

Chills went down your spine. You cling to his bare back, softly letting out a moan. 

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Jake groaned into the crease of your neck, leaving small kisses trailing up to your jawline. 

Jake wanted you. Oh, he wanted you. 

And you wanted him. 

But the thoughts of losing your mate came too, causing you to slide right from underneath Jake and back to the door. 

“I’m sorry…” Jake said, quickly pulling his shirt back over his head. 

“No it’s my fault,” you turned away from him, “I just…”

“It’s about your mate.”

You nodded, “I lost my soulmate, but you still have a chance to find yours, don’t waste any time on me.” 

That was the last thing you said, leaving Jake alone in his room. 

—

You’ve both been walking for hours. Jake’s hair stuck to his forehead from his sweat and the damp air. 

You’ve both been quiet. Barley saying a word to each other since last night. 

It was driving Jake crazy not being able to talk to you. 

Jake was stuck in his thoughts about last night. Scared of the possibility that maybe he doesn’t have a soulmate. That no one was made for him. 

Jake was hoping it’d be you, but not once did he feel this so-called knot. The string of fate. 

“Can we talk about last night, Y/N?” 

You sighed, “There isn’t anything to speak about with it.” 

Jake stepped in front of you, “Yes there is.” 

“Like what?” you scoffed, “We aren’t mates, Jake. I don’t owe you anything.” 

You walked around him, your heart pulling back to him, but continuing forward. 

Jake grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him.

“Let yourself feel, Y/N.” 

All you could do was stare up at him, unable to speak. 

He took your face between his soft hands, his thumbs making circles on your cheeks, “Let yourself feel again. You are holding yourself back all because of your loss. Let yourself feel.” 

You wanted to open your heart up to him, but the fear of losing someone again, you couldn’t do it. 

“We have to keep going, night will fall soon.” 

Jake followed behind you, knowing he could only do so much to get you to reopen your heart again. 

The sky grew darker as the moon slowly made its appearance. 

Jake stopped, mouth forming into a small smile. 

You no longer heard Jake’s footsteps, turning around and seeing him just standing there. 

“Everything okay?” you asked him.

Jake nodded, his eyes not leaving the sky. 

You walked over to him, looking up at where he was. 

“I’m confused?”

“Luna Nova.” 

You look back at him, “what?”

“Latin for the new moon,” Jake’s smile grew even wider, “Beautiful Luna Nova.”

Jake meets your eyes. The new moon’s light brings out that beautiful cocoa color. 

You wanted to kiss him. To grab his hand and hold it so tightly. 

The gate to your heart has been locked. Jake was right, it was time to feel again. 

You broke the lock to your closed gate and let yourself feel. 

Your heart pulled to him, the beautiful string of fate twisting and knotting together. The familiar feeling of love and want and belonging. 

Tears filled Jake’s eyes, “Is that…is that what it feels like?” 

You nodded, your own tears filling your eyes. 

“Who knew it was still possible to find a soulmate.” You softly whispered. 

Jake kissed you. He kissed you with so much love and passion and with every ounce of lost time from the moment he was born, turned into a vampire, and lived all the lives he has until this moment. Those hundreds of years were now finally worth it. 

He was tied to you. 

Jake released his lips from yours, his sweaty forehead connecting to yours. Your breathing matches his in perfect sync. 

“You’re my Luna Nova, my new beginning…just like the moon phases,” Jake whispered. 

Hand in hand, you lead Jake the rest of the way towards the witch’s village. 

“What is this head witch like?” he asked. 

“She’s roughly our age?” you said, trying to calculate the math in your head. 

“That’s pretty old.” he teased. 

“Yeah, aren’t we all? She’s trapped in her twenties like the rest of us.” 

“Couldn’t be worse than Niki.”

You nodded in agreement, “Poor Niki.” 

Laughter filled you both, but only until you reached the village. 

To be met with despair. 

The land was burning. Young children witches and warlocks were covered in ash and dirt. 

People shouting and crying out for their loved ones who were caught in the fires. 

Homes were torn to pieces by flames and lifeless bodies spread throughout the land. 

“What the hell happened…” Jake was barely able to speak, too shocked at the sight before him. 

You ran as fast as you could towards the village. 

“Y/N! Wait!!” 

You didn’t listen to Jake and kept running. The witches' village was supposed to be hidden. Was supposed to be on the edge of the town, hidden from the world. 

You frantically searched for people to help while asking around for the head witch.

But no one has seen her. 

You panicked, giving Jake orders to help find her, describing her in detail. 

Jake searched all the while helping those in need. 

“Y/N,” Jake showed back up at your side, “The fire isn’t stopping, we need to go!” 

You shook your head, “We need to find her!” 

One of your few vampire gifts was your sense of hearing. You called your eyes and focused hard, searching everywhere, until you heard her breathing. 

“She’s alive!” 

She was found under some rumble from a fallen building. 

“Y/N…” she said barely above a whisper. 

Tears filled your eyes as you and Jake pulled out from the rumble. 

You held her in your arms, pushing her hair out of her face. 

“What happened here?” Jake asked, kneeling down beside you, “What caused this?” 

“Dorian.” She coughed out. 

Your heart stopped, and anger washed over Jake. 

“He came for the spells,” she breathed out, “he knew you were coming for them, you were too late.” 

You looked up at Jake, tears falling down your face, “What do we do now?” 

Jake bites down on his tongue, looking at the witch below him. 

“Get her back to the house, we need to know exactly what happened.” 

You nodded, “So much for a new beginning, huh?”

a/n: i hope everyone is enjoying my little vampire series so far! i have so many ideas planned for the rest of the members and hope everyone looks forward to it! thank you so much to everyone who is keeping up with this series and the continued support. It means everything!

[eunivrse]

ASMR (VI) deal with the devil

# multi. aot characters / reader

─ you’d think crossing paths with the person who owns the voice you fuck yourself to almost every night would nearly be impossible, but then again, life is full of surprises.

chapter summary: everything you've done led up to this confontration. and now you're reaping the consequences.

content warning: nsfw (tbh just pure smut, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, squirting), manipulation, complicated situationships, talks of porn and nsfw asmr

word count: 8.5k

quick note: hii hi i posted this on here for consistency purposes but the edited version of the previous chapters is only available on ao3 @ eunivrse

series m.list | next chapter

“Well, fuck.”

You aren’t sure if you cursed out loud, but the man in front of you seemed to have heard it as he clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue, a way of poking fun at you for being so startled.

“Um- where’s Eren?” Trying to cover your surprised expression, you coughed to clear your throat.

“He’s in class. Too bad he left his phone though.” The blonde feigns a pout, swinging Eren’s phone in between his fingers to show you that he’s the one that messaged you before he placed it back on top of his friend’s desk.

“What do you want from me?” You decided to be frank instead of prancing around the topic in hand. He wanted to finish the interrupted conversation he had with you back at the party, you were aware of that. At the time, you were glad Eren stepped in before things took too far, but this time Armin calculated his steps to ensure confrontation will occur.

You’ve already lost.

He chuckles, taking a few steps closer to you until you are about a foot apart. “Why so tense, love?”

“Because- you scare me.” Probably not the best to be upfront by telling him that he’s scary to his face, but if he’s going to approach you as such, you’re going to make sure you have the upper hand.

He walks past you without a word and down the little entryway that leads to his shared dorm with Eren.

You were dumb to not even realize that the other side of the room was his. Being so infatuated with Eren, your mind has been clear of Armin and Euphoria for the past few days now. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but the idea of it somehow didn’t cross your mind.

Your feet were moving on its own, to the bigger space where you were boned by Eren just a few days ago. Armin took a seat on his desk chair and patted the space next to him, his bed, as a gesture for you to sit.

For some reason, you followed. Your stomach was churning, swearing you could feel your anxious levels bubbling up inside of you, but still; you still did as you were told like a trained puppy.

It’s the small part of you saying that it’s the Euphoria calling you over even though it’s possible that Armin will ruin your image for knowing something you shouldn’t have.

Reputation isn’t something you value all that much, but having a horrible one amongst your circle wouldn’t be pleasant either.

You looked down on your lap as you explained before Armin had the chance to start his berating, “Armin- I know me knowing that you’re Euphoria might cause you some issues, but-“ turning your gaze to the man in front of you, you noticed how he stared at you with sincerity.

It was strange, no, Armin Arlert is strange. One moment he terrifies you then the next would be him giving you the most reassuring gestures.

It’s as if he’s toying with you.

“But- I won’t do anything with that information. I promise.” Your voice trails off in a whisper, trying to convince yourself that you aren’t scared by any means, but your body language is saying otherwise.

“I know you won’t.” His tone was slightly demeaning, a small smile forming on his face as he elaborated. “Everyone has their secrets. You reveal mine and I’ll reveal yours. An eye for an eye, right?”

“My secret?”

He beamed in amusement, “Word going out that you filmed and posted a sex tape with Eren is enough to ruin you, yeah?” Armin is enjoying every second of this, it was obvious in the way he spoke, his facial expressions gleaming with fascination.

You scoffed, an attempt of trying to hide the way you’re trembling in fear, “H-how-“

Armin interrupts. “How do I know? We’re best friends, honey.” The word ‘honey’ rolling past his tongue almost made it seem like he was looking down on you. You didn’t know an endearing word like that could come off so… condescending.

“Why… why are you doing all this?” This was all so complicated. Honestly, you just wanted sex, the last thing you wished for was to be knotted with someone who seems like has unhinged tendencies. Someone who’s willing to throw his best friend under the bus just to satiate his craving of getting what he wants.

“For fun. We don’t need to be philosophical about porn, darling.” It seemed genuine enough, his friendly shrug gave you enough of a hint that there was nothing deeper than just him having… fun. Even if that meant blackmailing you to keep himself entertained.

Continuing with his statement after it was silent for a split second, he went on. “Can I be honest? I like the thrill of being known as someone completely different online. But you know, I get upset when nosy people get in the way.” Obviously referring to you, you stay quiet, not sure what to reply with.

“Tell me, you listen to Euphoria don’t you?” It was humorous how immediate your nod was.

“Yes… I subscribe to your patreon too.” What you are trying to achieve by unraveling that information to him is beyond you. This was starting to pique your interest, just like how Armin wished to.

He jests, chuckling quietly, almost diabolically. A laugh that lasted too long as you just sat with your hands warming in between your thighs. “Hah… no wonder you figured it out so fast.” He paused then glanced at you, meeting your eyes.

It all happened so suddenly, he practically trampled onto you, his frame over yours, arms on each side of you as your back landed on his mattress.

Putting your veil of confidence back on, you asked, despite the awkward position you were placed in. “Hey, can I ask why you called me over in the first place if you knew I wasn’t gonna say anything?”

“You’re interesting. Connie… now Eren. ‘Just want to see what the hype is about. Aren’t you curious about what Euphoria can offer too?” He grinned and all you could do was nod as you stared at his pretty blue eyes.

Armin was more arrogant than you thought. Of course he is, there’s millions of people online fawning over his voice. And the man himself is right above you, face just millimeters from yours. You’re living the scenario his fans can only ever dream of while they touch themselves to the thought of this.

“And Annie?” You were pushing it with this one. While you trust Annie, it was obvious that she was keeping something from you. Not like it’s any of your business, but your curiosity got you to where you are, so you might as well ask.

But as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

His eyelashes flutter as he blinks twice, then he hangs his head down, quipping while he stays in position, “Annie? She blurted out that she needed fast cash. I gave her the opportunity to record a few audios with me, so she can get a portion of the revenue we make from those audios. I think we both know that she’ll never speak of it to anyone else.”

’Just decided to stay professional.’

It sparked a memory in you, when Annie herself said the same thing back then, but what’s giving you the chills is the sharp contrast between how they both spoke of each other. Annie obviously had affection for him one way or the other, but Armin speaks of her as if they were mere co-workers.

As if sleeping with her was just a job to him. So much for his way of charity, you joke to yourself.

It’s a little terrifying but in a good-way. He’s definitely your type in that case. Someone who wouldn’t get their personal feelings in the way.

You aren't sure if Armin is the one moving way too slow, or your mind is diluted into slime that everything was going on slow motion for you, but his lips were mellowed and sweet, you can taste the familiar cherry chapstick flavor as his tongue made it in between your lips and into your mouth. Your half-lidded eyes were now fully closed, arms around his neck and his knee in between your legs.

Heart was starting to race, thumps so intense that you wouldn’t be surprised if Armin could hear it himself. Bodies pressed up on each other chest-to-chest, his hands now cupped on your cheeks— it felt warm. Armin’s kiss felt like a fluffy blanket draped over you on a cool winter night, all your doubts and worries about him didn’t matter anymore, you just wanted him now.

You already knew his voice alone could drive you in a state of euphoria, but this is way better than you could ever imagine. He was more gentle than you assumed based on the audios and the backhanded threats, it’s as if he gave you a drug to relieve your brain from thinking too much of it.

All this from a mere lip-to-lip action.

He pulled off shortly after, your eyes opening gradually, the sun from outside blazing through the window. It was obviously noon, the daylight out and about, but you were already so horny, pupils glazed with lust.

Armin pushed his thumb down on your bottom lip, swiping across it, then watched it bounce back up as soon as he released his hold. “You looked pretty in the video.” He whispers.

“You watched it?” Being aware that someone who knows who you are has actually seen it led you to realize how embarrassing you were acting in the tape. How vulnerable you let yourself be under Eren’s command.

And more so now that the man behind the microphone is talking about it.

He smiles with a sense of warmth. “You’re a natural, I admit. My favorite part was when you begged Eren to cum inside you. Would you let me do that if it were me?” If anyone else had asked you this, it’d be an immediate slap to the face, but this is him talking to you in that voice.

The voice you spent months fucking yourself to.

And he knew that.

It was such an eager nod, if you weren’t trapped right now you’d probably strip yourself naked. “Yes… I’d let you.”

Armin grins, the pads of his fingers right on your clothed crotch. “Really? You wouldn’t mind if I cum inside that pretty pussy?” His words were pure obscene, your panties definitely damp at this point.

“No.” You felt your breathing hitch, Armin’s fingers circling on the layers of fabric covering your clit. It was obvious how keen you are, your hips pushing itself towards him to feel more friction. He didn’t care to take off your underwear, he slid his hand under the garment and flicked your clit with the tip of his finger, feeding off on your hums of approval.

Your heart was thumping against your rib cage, you’ve never been this visibly antsy before. His crystal blue eyes scanning your clothed body, lips curved up into a smirk while he slips a finger in between your plush folds. The way your walls would clench around his finger, your hands sneaking and traveling around his back, your whimpers were sensual, alluring.

He leans down, face buried on your collarbones, his teeth already nipping on your skin. Noticing the faint marks littered on your neck, he kisses each one, as if he was the one that planted them on you. “Did you have a good time with Eren the other day?”

You were caught off-guard, answering with a breathy ‘yes’ as he teases his finger in you with a slight curl, even though you were praising him, not answering his question.

“Really? Hm… I bet I can do better though.” It felt like just yesterday when you were intoxicated, ear right up against your bedroom wall, wishing you were the one Euphoria was cursing, praising, cumming to. Words that might feel needles against other’s skin felt like heaven to you only because it’s Euphoria.

He kneeled on the floor, pulling your ankles apart and sliding your bottoms down, underwear leaking with arousal. It tickled each time he kissed your thigh, lips trailing up to your most intimate parts. You pulled your underwear to your inner thigh for him and he blew on your clit, glistened with slick. Licking a long stripe up your folds, you gasped, hands grasping onto his hair.

Euphoria knew what you wanted and he dished it out on you on a silver platter. He chuckled against the heat of your cunt, swearing you could feel his fucking smirk on you, then his tongue sticking out and flicking your walls. His voice was low and gruff while he groaned into you, saliva pooling and dripping all over your pussy and down your ass.

He pauses and taps your clit with his fingers, your teeth gritting in hopes of suppressing your moans. He eggs on, “Your pussy looks so much better in real life. I’m a big fan of you, you know.”

“Big fan?” You faintly ask, your attention gathered.

“Yeah,” He kisses your inner thigh. “I’ve even imagined that it was me instead of Eren in the video. Pretty pathetic of me, huh?” Judging by his tone, the lines between his intentions are blurred.

Is he mocking or praising you?

“That’s a ballsy thing to say at our first proper meeting.” You laugh, head thrown back when he flicked the tip of his tongue on your clit.

“First?” He raises an eyebrow.

You couldn’t ask any further even if you wanted to, he latched his fingers on the nook of your inner thighs, pushing you apart and nibbled on your cunt like he hadn’t had breakfast this morning. Your stomach felt tight, eyes seeing blank.

It’s been your biggest wet dream to have this man in between your legs. Although you didn’t expect him to be someone like Armin Arlert. He’s just too… poise and put together. Who would’ve thought someone as perfect as him also had skeletons in his closet?

You wreck out a cracked sob, hands searching for something to grip on. Legs dripping with his saliva and your juices, he spits on your cunt, then uses two fingers to split your folds apart. He takes a moment to stare at the clear sheen of arousal coating your pussy before sighing as a sign of approval.

With his eyes glued to the orb of saliva threatening to drip down his ivory sheets, he puckers his lips and blows towards your clit, amused by your reaction which consists of a curse and a twitch, of which he found quite cute. He teases, “well aren’t you a dirty girl?”

You play along, “I learned from the best,” implying that he’s just as filthy as you are.

Armin slowly slips a finger in between your folds and down your hole once again, relishing in the warmth of your walls compressing him so tightly. His thumb worked circles on your clit while he pushed his index in as deep as he could. All you could do was breathe out whines, too stimulated to protest for him to go faster.

It’s insane how many varying feelings you’ve gone through for the past 20 minutes. At one minute your reputation is being threatened, the next minute, the man you’ve unknowingly been fucking yourself to has his head in between your legs.

He wraps one of his arms around your groin, palm squeezing on your inner thigh to keep you spread apart. Sighing, he curls his finger inside you before pulling it out and slipping it back in, this time along with his middle finger. Armin muses, “I wanna see you cum this time, okay love?”

Hearing him talk like this live, let alone to you directly— you honestly couldn’t ask for anymore. The natural husk of his voice only intensified the knot in your tummy. He hadn’t had his finger inside you for more than 2 minutes and yet you already wanted to cum.

You aren’t too fond of Armin and his borderline demonic tendencies, but you can never resist that sultry, angelic voice of Euphoria’s. Unable to form a cohesive response from the tightness in your stomach, you stutter, “Y-yes— ah—!” He flicks his thumb up and down on your clit as he pressed light kisses down your inner thigh, his lips making their way to your pussy.

Replacing his thumb with the tip of his tongue, he jerked the wet muscle on your clit, which evoked a gasp from you. “So sweet,” he praises, kissing your clit before sucking on it. His fingers gradually increased in speed, curling them deeper with each thrust, eventually reaching the spot that provoked a pornographic moan past your lips.

“God…” You groan, your hands reaching up to massage your boobs for more stimulation. The slick sound of his fingers plunging in you was enough to push you over the edge, until—

Click!

No fucking way.

Someone’s using a key to open the door, which could only mean one thing.

Eren.

You were still for what felt like minutes, Armin quickly helping you up. Getting back to your senses, you pull your shorts back up, nearly sprinting to sit on Eren’s bed as opposed to where you just were. There’s no use of hiding, it’ll just make the situation more suspicious.

You watch Armin wipe the sheen off his chin with the back of his hands, your legs still trembling from the tingle and the denial of a release as you compose yourself. Eren unlocked the door and each of his step felt like it was in slow motion. Even you being here seems a little… off. And it’s even weirder that it was dead silent when he came in.

“Hey… guys. What’s up?” He seemed ecstatic that you were here, although confused since he didn’t invite you or anything. And he knows that Armin wasn’t too happy about you.

Before you could even juggle for an answer, Armin stepped in. “She called and since you left your phone, I answered and said she could stay here until you come back.” The fact that he was so quick to make up such a blatant lie doesn’t even surprise you anymore. He’s been able to hide his other identity so well, now you have a deeper understanding of why he probably hates your guts.

You’re like a small crack in his life that will eventually spread to break him.

Eren fell for it, responding with a nod as he walked over to cup your cheeks, leaning down for a quick, yet sincere kiss. You smile against his lips, although slight guilt was looming over you as Armin just watched. He then grabbed his phone, patting Armin on the back, and whispering something against his ear before speaking to you again. “I’m sure you both know each other by now, no need for introductions, correct?”

You weren’t sure if he’s referring to the thick tension or the fact that you two are mutual friends, but nevertheless the suspense was starting to eat you from the inside.

“Yeah… We’ve all hung out before.” You shrug, honestly starting to feel awkward that no one is discussing the elephant in the room even though that’ll probably make things worse.

Armin sat back down on his bed and pretended to go on his laptop, Eren sitting next to you on his mattress. “So what did you call me for?” He asks, his palm rubbing your thigh. Armin side-glaring at you from a few meters away, practically telling you to not speak a single word about what just happened was enough to provoke a lie out of you.

“I just wanted to see you…” Your lips perk up into a feign smile.

Eren gleams, “Really? I was actually about to ask you if you wanted to go out with me this weekend.”

His beamed expression is something that you honestly couldn’t reject. And a date doesn’t mean a relationship right? You’ve only gotten to know him for a couple of weeks anyways.

And Eren definitely isn’t the type to be serious about relationships.

“A date?” You shoot a quick glance at Armin at which he just smiled and stared at you, watching you like a hawk.

“Doesn’t have to be, though I’d prefer it if it was,” Eren’s nonchalant attitude tells you he’d probably never asked anyone out for a genuine, wholesome date. He had just said it doesn’t have to be a date, and you kinda owe him anyway for helping you get back up on your feet even if he wasn’t aware, so why not?

“Okay. You’re paying for everything though.” You stick your tongue out, at which Eren scoffed at. Your agreement to this ‘date’ is also partly to take a jab at Armin. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, his fingers click-clacking on his keyboard without a care about your conversation. But you knew he was all ears.

You looked at the time on your phone and realized you have class in half an hour. “I have to go. I’ll see you Saturday then?” You stand up, Eren grabbing your hand as he followed.

“Yeah. I’ll text you.” He kisses your cheek before letting you go. You wave to Armin before twisting the knob to leave the room. The last thing you heard before closing the door was a “see you” from Armin.

Something tells you that you will see him again before that meet-up with Eren.

---

Classes are over and you were laying on your bed, bored since everyone is busy and you’ve done everything you had to do for your classes, surprisingly.

For some reason, you were looking forward to hanging out with Eren. You didn’t really mind considering it as a date, you kinda miss the giddy feeling of getting ready and looking nice for someone.

During your moment of slight excitement, your phone dinged.

The number is unknown, but you knew who it was.

‘are we gonna finish what we started earlier?

Euphoria.

You gulped, yes, but you were wishing for this in the back of your head. There was nothing more you wanted than to have that man inside of you. Even if he’s a little crazy.

Typing, you respond, ’i’m free rn and annie isn’t here.’

That typing bubble felt as if it lasted way too long even though his response was just a mere, ‘what time will she be back?’

’not until a few days. she went home for the weekend’

The odds were in your favor, Annie took an early weekend and left a few hours ago to spend time with family.

He replied with a thumbs up, and you closed your phone, chest rising and falling, eyes glued on the ceiling.

---

The sun has set, the bright spring sky switching to its dark, gloomy counterpart. There were no stars, except for a few of which you can assume are just helicopters. It’s been a good 10 minutes since Armin had texted and as soon as it turned 9:00pm, you heard a knock on the door. You were quick on your feet to welcome him into your apartment.

Clad with an oversized shirt and his cargo pants, he walked in from the dark hallway to your humble abode, where you can clearly see that he’s wearing a pair of innocent looking glasses.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with this place,” you say sarcastically, Armin ignoring you and sitting straight at the dining table. You follow, pulling the chair from under the table and sitting across from him.

“So what do you want?” You might as well lay all your cards out if he’s threatening you.

He pushes the bridge of his glasses up to his nose. “A deal.”

Feeling a sense of deja vu, you repeat his words. “A deal?”

“Yes. Make content with me.”

You weren’t planning on retaliating, this has practically been what you’ve been fantasizing about since day one, however you weren’t going to let Armin get whatever he wants that easily.

“What’s in it for me?” You raise an eyebrow. Armin leans in closer, both elbows propped on the wooden surface with his fingers laced together.

“Half of what I get from each audio goes straight to your pocket. Isn’t that more than enough? But of course—“ His plump lips curve up into a smirk.

“I know the sex is something you’d enjoy as well.” The perverted words coming out from his mouth is a clear juxtaposition mixed in with his boyish appearance.

The silence was getting too thick, and Armin proceeded to explain, “As you know, Annie quit. I never planned on having a partner in my audios, however, ever since her appearance, my patreon subscribers have nearly doubled. Do you understand now?”

As much as the deal will benefit you tremendously, you couldn’t help but bring up the obvious. “What if Annie finds out about this?”

“If you’re feeling guilty, then you should know that she’s the one that broke it off with me. And it’s part of your job to be discreet about this. Tell one person, even Eren, and the deal’s off-“ He seemed as if he was going to say something else, however he kept his mouth shut.

“You’re acting like I would ever mention you to Eren. I’ve been sleeping with the guy for fuck’s sake. And plus, you aren’t really that special, Armin.” Your lip perked up into a small smirk, a little part of you hoping that your harsh words are jabbing his ego.

“Good. Keep it that way.” For some reason, his responses kept pissing you off.

You stand up and slam your palms down on the table. “Okay, I will! God, you’re insufferable.” Your face was heating up from built up wrath, Armin’s lack of response only making you want to flip the table over. The reason why you’re so angry is something you fail to answer yourself.

He stands up from his chair after a few seconds. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, you’re getting on my goddamn nerves.” You turn your face away from him.

That’s too bad…” Walking towards you, he grabs your chin to look him in the eye. His grip was tight, any longer and your face would bruise. You could see your vulnerable state through the reflection of his specs, his sapphire irises showed nothing but purity, yet his words were bordering evil.

“Fucking deal with it then.” He scoffed tauntingly before clashing his lips against yours. You clawed on his t-shirt as he transferred his bruising grip onto your waist, ultimately pushing you against the ledge of the table. The cold coffee mug that Annie left on top of the wooden slab rattled, but that didn’t stop you from pulling Armin by the collar and shoving him, the both of you switching positions. He whimpered against your mouth from the slight ache of his lower back, giving you an opportunity to slip your tongue inside, your teeth ramming into his bottom lip.

You pull out for a moment to get a breath of fresh air, panting in between soft kisses, “Let’s go to my room.”

Armin huffs, “Can I record?”

You roll your eyes, slowly inching away from him while having your hand twisted on his collar. “What else would you want to do this for?” It would’ve been easier to just say yes, but that just isn’t you.

By holding his wrist, you led him to your bedroom. When you get in, you turn around and he shows you his phone with a voice memo app on and recording.

Of course, your curious self also wants to know the specifics of his content. “Don’t you use a mic?”

He shrugs, and walks past you to place his phone face down on your nightstand. “Only when I’m alone, easier to manage and all.” He strolls towards you, cupping your face gently and using his thumb to caress your cheekbones.

Your cheeks were bunched up in his hand, lips forced into a pucker as he whispers, “Just pretend like the phone isn’t even there, okay?” With that, he locked his lips with yours tenderly, an clear opposition to his prior behavior. One of his hands is already under your shirt while the other is on your shoulder, slowly easing you into your mattress.

As you trail kisses from the corner of his lips down to his neck, you mumble, “I wanna suck you off…”, pausing him of his attempt on laying you on the bed.

He showed no sign of retaliation, urging you to unbutton his pants to pull it down. You kneeled on the carpet ground as his trousers reached his ankles, the rough surface prickling your kneecaps already. You notice a bump poking out of his boxers, the view of it all from just his toned thighs and the sneak view of his pelvis already got you gulping.

Curling your fingers on the garter of his underwear, you pull it down, his cock popping out in all its glory.

The description you’ve been picturing in your head about what this would look like is way better than what your imagination could fathom. His tip is flushed pink, just oozing with beads of white, and it’s long enough that it curves up, perfect for hitting that sweet spot of yours. There’s also a vein that protrudes through the middle of the shaft to the tip, your pupils dilating at the sight.

You’ve had your fair share of dicks, this one might be the prettiest one.

You shimmy a little closer to grab his cock for the first time and holy shit, it feels surreal. Palm wrapped around him, you start moving your hand up and down as your lips get closer to his tip. There were no reactions from him, you looked up and he just stared with a dull expression, arms crossed as if he was bored.

Well, that was the case until your lips made contact with the slit seeping with precum, licking it up and sticking your tongue out to show him what you’ve done. That whimper was a sign that you found his sensitive spot.

Well, that was fast.

You glanced up at him as you took his cock in between your lips. He grips his fingers on the back of your head and pushes you until his tip slammed the back of your throat. Squealing, he proceeded on using your throat as his personal flesh light, saliva frothing and dribbling down your chin.

“Oh- yeah, keep suckin’ it just like that, ah–” He chuckles, his cock nearly stretching your throat, swollen lips pressing up against his balls. You latched your nails onto his thick thighs for leverage, head bobbing up and down as your tongue swirled all around his lengthy cock. Tears brimmed your waterline, mascara staining your cheeks.

You were taking it like a champ, you barely made any gurgling noises that implied that you were gagging despite the minimal allowance he allowed you to breathe. He thought it was quite impressive.

Caving your cheeks in, you groaned from the pang of your jaw, the vibrations causing him to squirm. “Oh yeah… ah fuck yeah…” The series of whimpers and curses echoing around your room sent chills down your pussy, it really is so much better live.

You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself, amused at his change of tone just from a pair of lips on his cock.

The more you think about it, the more you’re starting to put the pieces on the puzzle. Armin does have a really distinct undertone of a British accent in his speech.

It’s not too noticeable to people who don’t pay attention, but in your case, you’ve heard hours worth of just his voice. When he’s under the facade of Euphoria, his deep, husked voice has that similar British accent, voice gradually becoming higher pitched as he reaches his high.

“Fuck baby, hah- you— don’t stop.” He mewls, voice strained, your chin soaked with saliva. You pulled off with a gasp, a strand of spit connecting your lips and his tip. Smirking, you palm his cock and jerk him off, blinking up at him with innocent eyes. He couldn’t protest even if he wanted to, only being able to moan until his throat went dry.

Clearing your throat, you taunt, “You’re so cute, can’t wait to cum in my mouth don’t you?” You hadn’t expected Armin to heed to you, he just nodded in desperation, his cock twitching the more you slid your hand along him.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh fuckkkk— hah—!” He stiffens, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut as he lets it all spill out. It didn’t take long until you felt the strings of warm, ivory cum spurting all over your lips as he moaned out loud, nearly choking on his own saliva. You stood up, knees weak and wobbly, licking your lips to collect his seed in your tongue while you pulled him by the collar in for an eager kiss, forcing him to taste himself.

Parting from him, you grin, “You taste amazing.” self-confidence off the roof from making him cum as hard as his voice has made you these past months.

He laughs faintly, “It’s your turn, baby.”

The phone recording every sound you make had already slipped your mind by this point, as Euphoria would’ve preferred. You grab the bottom hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his chest, which Armin was willing to do the honors of discarding it completely, letting it plop on the floor.

All you could think about was that Armin is fucking gorgeous. You just assumed he was cute and adorable because of his boyish complexion, but he’s built like a Greek statue under the sweaters and cargos he’s often clad in. His skin was smooth, arms toned, chest chiseled perfectly with his subtle abs, and a perfect v-line connecting to the sole thing you’ve been looking forward to feeling inside you.

Likewise, you cross your arms to take your top off to toss it somewhere in your room. Your lack of bra, nipples stiff and perked had Armin’s lips pursed into what you assume is anticipation. Maybe you were moving way too slow for his liking, methodically slipping your skimpy shorts off along with your panties, because Armin didn’t even wait for you to kick the garments off to the side before spinning you around, your back against the near ledge of your plush mattress.

Your brain could barely register what just happened, it took seconds before you realized that your legs are being pried apart with his head in between.

Armin muses, taking off the shorts and panty that hung off your ankle to throw it across the room. “You’re going to have to move much faster next time, yeah? I don’t like waiting.” The sternness in his voice only caused you to leak more than you already have been, bare pussy gleaming with your arousal. You could only nod and hum a compliant ‘mhm’, the cool breeze of the centralized AC wafting past your wet cunt, heightening your sensitivity.

The warm contact between your clit and the apex of his tongue evoked a curse slip past your lips. Teasing you, he proceeded in kitten licking the same spot til it was swollen and raw, already leaving your desperate cunt leaking all over the sheets beneath you. It was shocking honestly, how quickly you released, little spurts of squirt seeping down your ass while Armin teased. You squirmed, the back of your head digging against the plush mattress as you reach your brief high.

He chuckles, “So soon? I just started, love.” He rolled his thumb back and forth on your throbbing clit, while using two fingers to split your folds apart, eyeing the round orbs of slick rolling down to the sheets.

Trembling from overstimulation despite barely being touched, you weep, “Need more… I need you so bad,” Armin poked his tongue in between your folds, tapping at your wet hole without giving his thumb a break. Your hands latched onto his locks, pushing him down the heat of your cunt.

The warmth of his saliva pooling in between his mouth and your pussy dripped down his chin, the mixed noises of slurping and moans echoing in your room. Your thighs were shaking, threatening to clamp onto Armin’s head, however he didn’t let you— gripping onto the plump of your thighs and forcing them wide apart, letting the cold air hit your pussy.

Your legs were spread on the bed, allowing you to really feel how good Armin’s tongue feels inside of you. His licks were tight and precise as it grazed your throbbing hole, his nose buried just right under your clit.

He takes a breather, blowing on the heat of your cunt as he plugged two fingers deep past your hole, feeling your walls clench around the ridges of his knuckles. “You’re gonna have to hold it this time, love.” The request is nearly impossible when he’s curling his fingers in, making you whimper in resistance.

The occasional giggles he would have matched with his lewd sucking were more than enough to draw another orgasm out of you. His voice was truly mesmerizing, any word that rolls off his tongue can get you soaked.

Waiting for your response was none of Armin’s concern, he plunged his fingers with ease, eyes glimmered with nothing but awe at the sticky mess he’s creating in between your legs. The ache of his balls was starting to get unbearable, tingling with his filthiest urges. As much as he wanted to punish and ruin you for reasons he couldn’t clearly answer himself, there’s nothing more he wants than to pound you into the bed.

Armin lowers his head, lips reaching to nip at your clit, his fingers reaching the spot that emitted a sharp gasp from you, crimson lips from biting them so much turning into an ‘o’. Your pussy down to the base of your ass is coated with a sheen of your slick, Armin pushing the plump of your left inner thigh on the mattress to prevent closing your legs.

He reveres, “Been waiting for this since you left earlier… ‘never seen such a pretty pussy,” He was rambling, but he wasn’t far off from the truth.

“Hahhhh— yeah, fuck, that’s it—!” Your groan nearly reached the pit of your stomach, tears brimming your eyes before panting sporadically, just waiting for that sweet voice of affirmation to give you permission.

He cleared his throat before chuckling, “Show me how it’s done, doll.” You were a mess to say the least. Hands pressed up on your chest to push your breasts together, letting a clear stream of fluid projectile on Armin’s lips as soon as he pulled his fingers out while you struggled to breathe.

Small spurts kept spraying out of your needy little hole, Armin tapping on your clit with the tips of his fingers, a little force inflicted in his touch which provoked a frail moan out of you.

He stands upright, knees sore from digging them in the ground. Hunching over your frame, his shadow cowering over your body, he sees you in all your glory, drowsy and fucked out. He’s not even done with you and you’ve already given out.

He mutters, face leaning closer to yours, lips just barely against your ear, “Are you sure you don’t want more?” Every fiber of your being is telling you to sleep, but your mind is telling you to let him use you like you’re nothing but a mere doll.

“I do… ‘need you inside me…” your pathetic pleas is something Armin couldn’t resist, the twitch of his cock from your dulcet tone mixed in with your disgusting words almost made him impatient. Chuckling, he stands back up and you watch while he preps himself, fucking his fat cock into his fist, his thumb smearing off the leaking bead of precum.

You stare at the ceiling, mouth agape when he placed his cock in between your folds, savoring the snug feeling of your wet pussy as he slid himself up and down, tip knocking on your clit. Your reflexes kicked in and you lifted your ass up a bit, rolling your hips to match his pace. Your little whimpers, body shaking from having to hold your weight on your elbows, Armin couldn’t help but place his hands all over you, thumb pressed on your lip while the other played with your pert nipple.

His hand was locked on your jaw while you nipped on his thumb, forcing your eyes on him. It’s hard to say that he isn’t absolutely gorgeous when he’s under that innocent facade that he likes to pull.

Golden strands of hair were stuck on his forehead, collarbones and his abs sheened with sweat. He chuckles when he notices the drool seeping out of your lips and on his thumb. “Are you ready?” Still rocking his cock back and forth slowly, you nod to give him the green light. Letting your jaw go, your head falls back on the bed as he positions one of your legs against his chest while you gently wrap your fingers around his cock, pointing his tip right on your hole.

Armin grins at your eagerness, rutting his hips to let his cock nudge into your pussy, walls sucking him in, welcoming him inside you so kindly. You couldn’t help but moan, neck stretched to throw your head further into the mattress. He presses on your tummy with his palm, squeezing on the plump of your skin as he taunts you by keeping stationary, dick barely halfway through.

He hacks out a laugh, while he stares in adoration at the way you’re bouncing your hips, desperate for the need for stimulation. The sticky, wet noise of your pussy rubbing around his cock just tells him how much you’ve wanted this. Just how pathetic you’d get for some dick.

In your defense, him being halfway through was enough to get yourself off, his girth was enough to stretch you apart. Hell, just hearing his voice can make you cum with just a finger.

His hands grabbed ahold of your waist, nimble fingers squeezing on the pudge of your skin. His lips were curved into a smile, “You have to wait for me, pretty. Is that okay, hm?” His hum sprung into a high pitched tone as opposed to the rest of his sentence. Of course you listened, you were in heat and you’ve been touching yourself to that exact same tone more often than not.

Armin kneaded on your waist with the pads of his thumbs while meticulously sheathing himself inside you. He stopped when he had filled you up to the hilt, quickly glancing at your gorgeous face one more time before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours. You shiver, a little whimper drifting past your lips, followed with a huff to catch your breath again.

However, he stays cruel with his treatment, vehemently fucking into you in a pace that caught air stuck in your throat. You struggled to find the correct words to egg him on, but what you didn’t know was that your moans and your presence itself was more than enough to make his balls twinge.

Propping your elbows onto the duvet of your mattress, you tuck your chin in to look at the work being done on your cunt. His cock was splitting you in half, his base coated with your arousal mixed in with his pre. Your abdomen was tight while he pushed your lifted leg closer to your body. Flexibility isn’t exactly your forte, but you had him to thank for drilling into you in this angle.

His cock might not be as girthy as Eren’s, but he knew how to give a good fuck. After all, Eren is an exception. No one can compare with him in terms of size.

So it’s hard to admit that he makes Eren seem like an amateur in everything else.

Expected from Euphoria, but surprising for Armin.

He swung your leg to the side, lifting it off the bed and leaving one of your ass cheeks on the bed, letting the rest of your body move sideways. His swift movement left you dumbfounded, you were babbling nonsense as he plunged into your seeping cunt, thighs slathered with your arousal. Armin coos as he panted, “Fuck, yeah. Love it. ‘Love your wet pussy milking me so well.” His string of whimpers and curses dominated yours, you’ve never met another man this vocal in bed.

Your grip on his cock had left his head blank, he was practically acting on instinct by the way he’s digging into you, the sheets rustling with each thrust. Saliva bubbles on the corner of your lips, dribbling down the mattress in uneven shapes. You cry, “Please, baby. ‘Need you to cum inside…” Almost every inch of your body was aching— yet you yearned for it. One of your forearms was pressed onto the linen sheets and the more he moved, the more it burned from friction.

Armin groans, hips still stagnant in speed, “Hm? Want me to fill you full of cum? Such a dirty slut…” Your cunt was so welcoming to him, sucking him in like there’s no tomorrow. The sight of your titties bouncing in sync with his pounding had made him eager to strike it with the heat of his palm, igniting a sharp, quick gasp from you. You turn your head, shooting a glance at him, mildly surprised at what he just did. His once sapphire eyes were hooded with pure animalistic lust and your lack of retaliation only provoked him to do it again, watching as your boob jiggled against the other, soaking up on the whines you’d make in response.

He amped up the speed of his cock, balls grazing your inner thigh. In accordance, his moans were being drawn out in higher pitches, those sweet familiar tunes that you sleep to every night. “Hah— shit, I watched you get fucked by him the other day, yet I don’t remember you being like this.” He didn’t need to elaborate on who he’s talking about. You knew.

And he expects you to answer. He couldn’t care less about the recording. In fact, this could even be good material for his content.

“I- ah— he wasn’t—“ you’re mumbling, distracted by the sheer length of Armin’s cock filling you to the brim, battering onto the same squishy spot that got you yelping.

“He wasn’t what?” He wants to hear it although the answer is quite clear already.

You glare at him with half lidded eyes, stammering, “Shut— the fu-fuck up and make me cum already damn—“ Him bringing up someone else while destroying your insides was pissing you off, it was giving insecurity. Although it did cross your mind that it might be because he wants to milk you for content; figuratively and literally.

Armin hisses as his hips staggered in speed, now clapping his hips in slow, deep strokes. “Hahh, you’re so ambitious— ngh—” His sentences likewise weren’t coherent, his release basically sitting at the entrance of his tip, ready to stuff you full.

The change between his quick, powerful thrusts versus the sensual strokes had left your mouth hanging, nearly shrieking. “Please… I wanna— ah—!” Armin dropped your cramping leg back down, putting all his weight on the bed as he lodged his cock into you at a faltering pace, fists practically embedded onto the mattress.

He’s so painstakingly close, using up the last of his strength to plow into you one more time, stuffing you full of cum. The cute little twitch his cock made after emptying into you was what drew you to your high. Armin’s head flew back as you both went silent for a quick second before simultaneously groaning at the feeling of release flowing throughout your spine and the rest of your body.

Armin’s breathing stuttered as he managed to jest, “So much fucking cum…” keeping himself plugged into you as you felt viscous, milky consitency seep out of your hole and down your ass. The pit of your stomach felt warm and full as you pressed onto it with your frail hand to check if this is actually happening to you right now.

If you were really just fucked stupid by the man of your wet dreams.

He slouches down to capture your lips once more, feeling regenerated while you nibble on his bottom lip. You both open your eyes, bringing your hand up to brush his cheek with your warm palm. You manage to perk your lips into a small smile before he leans in to give you another peck. For a moment, it felt real. The kiss felt so genuine and you’ve found what people in love call connection.

But this isn’t love. This is just two people practicing their lustful desires onto each other.

You don’t even know him.

Pulling out, his limp cock twitched at the cool air, glazed with pure, translucent white. You sigh at the hollow feeling, thick ropes of cum oozing onto the soft sheets.

Armin stands up and picks up the clothes that splayed onto the ground, handing yours back to you as he starts to dress himself. He asks as he takes his phone to stop the recording, “Everything good?” His smile was innocent and it still catches you off guard.

You nod, composing yourself by getting a tissue from the nightstand to wipe the mess in between your legs “yeah… thanks.” Not caring enough to put shorts back on as no one else was home anyways, you led Armin to your front door with nothing but a fresh tee and your underwear on.

“I had a good time. Thank you, Armin.” If you were going to be working with him, being on good terms wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Being friendly towards him is your best course of action.

“Me too. You were amazing.” was all he said. Your cell phone dinged from your hand and you held it up, unaware that Armin saw it as well.

It was a text from Eren.

’Can we talk?’

You closed your phone quickly, not being able to do anything but sigh at the complications of your, relation— well— situationships.

“Well, good night. Have fun on your date.” Armin caresses your cheekbone with his thumb before you bid him farewell, your heart pitter pattering with each second as you watch him disappear into the shadow of the hallway.

Something about Eren’s text doesn’t feel… casual.

You’re not in a relationship whatsoever, so why?

Why does it feel like you’re being disloyal?

[tobiotaesan]

teal jersey #04 m.j.h

synopsis: with the hopes of gaining new experiences when you enter high school, you didn't expect that you would end up as a new manager in-training for karasuno's volleyball club. and you most certainly also were not expecting you would be wearing aoba johsai's jersey on your first day in training with the first years first practice match with the team whose jersey you were wearing.

genre: fluff, haikyuu au! high school au!

pairing: aoba johsai player! myung jaehyun x karasuno manager (in-training)! fem! reader

word count: 3.6k

warning: none

"y/n, the teacher is looking for you."

the class president says as they enter the classroom, causing all eyes to fall upon you. you stood up from your seat and immediately went ahead to the teacher's faculty room. on the way there, you couldnt help but wonder what reason could there be for the teacher to summon you. it was a very rare occasion for you to be called upon by the teachers. most of the time they call for the class president, or the vice if the aforementioned isnt around, and rarely, almost never, you.

it was quite a surprise to you that the teacher even knows your name, considering how much you have tried to avoid any form of attention at school. typical introvert behaviour. however, despite your claims of invisibility, the teacher still knew of your existence. and now you cant help but wonder if you had caused any trouble at school, which is why you were being summoned. but its totally impossible as you never even leave your seat unless the class requires it, its lunch time or its time to go home. the only places you go to are your house and school, you dont go out on the weekends either. so what kind of trouble could you have gotten yourself in? you shook your head as a poor attempt to brush off your thoughts as you arrived in front of the door to the faculty room. with a deep breath, you grabbed and twisted the doorknob and opened the door.

you bow to greet the teacher sitting in the first cubicle inside as you walked in, stating your purpose of arrival. he gives you a nod and you walked in further, head turning side to side, looking for your teacher who called for you. luckily, she raised her hand for you to see and spot her easily. you picked up your pace and walked towards her desk. a small smile greets you as you arrive in front of her while you simply bowed to greet her.

"im sure you are wondering why i called for you so suddenly. to cut things short, i believe that you are the best person to be trusted with this task," now you are even more surprised.

not only does the teacher know your name and existence, they are even complimenting you and basically saying you are a reliable person. but still, confusion couldnt be erased within you, there had to be a more specified reason for whatever this task is.

"i noticed in the way you write your notes and create your outputs that you are a very organized person. very neat and clean when working and most importantly, efficient. im aware that you transferred here only just a few months ago but you seem to have adjusted quite well to your new environment pretty quickly," she pauses for a second before swivelling her chair to face you, her hands clasping togegher.

the sudden shift in the atmosphere made your heart beat increase a little and your palms start sweating. you backed up slightly in your chair, gulping as you try to maintain the eye contact with your teacher who looked quite serious you started to feel intimidated by her gaze.

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you walked out of the teachers faculty room with a storm of thoughts in your head. it seemed like such a huge responsibility but the overall demands of it wasnt anything you werent capable of doing. however, it will add up to the school workload but then again, time management was never an issue for you. so if you were to agree to it, you would surely be able to manage everything on your plate.

oof.

a wall in the middle of the hallway?

"oh? hey, youre the first year that yachi was talking about," the long-hair tied in a half-up lad turns around and smiles at you. the wall in the middle of the hallway.  he stood about the same height as you are with only about half an inch difference.

"im sorry? yachi?" you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

you try to think of anyone who went by the name of yachi but couldnt put a face on it. and then suddenly, the face of a bubbly blonde bob cut third year senior asking to talk to you the other day comes to mind. she was chasing after you at the school gate and was catching her breath the entire time she spoke to you before enthusiastically saying something along the lines of looking forward to hearing your response before dashing away. it all happened way too quickly that she didnt notice you were wearing headphones and barely heard anything she was telling you. basically, you didnt understand anything she said besides the last part and since she ran away right after, you were too stunned to think of chasing after her to ask her to repeat what she said.

"huh? you dont know yachi? she told me she talked to you the other day. actually, im here to look for you because she told me you havent given her a response yet."

"oh, she did talk to me the other day but i was wearing my headphones and couldnt hear anything she said. and when i took them off my head she suddenly ran away so i wasnt able to ask her to repeat what she told me," you explain.

"typical yachi, she was actually too scared to talk to you thats probably why she immediately ran away as soon as she finished talking. by the way, my name is yamaguchi, im also a third year who plays for our school's volleyball team," he says while showing off the jersey you didnt realize he was wearing. volleyball team, huh? so he's related to what your teacher talked to you about.

"then youre probably here to ask me about being the new manager of the team, right?"

"yeah! oh, how did you know?" he tilts his head in confusion.

"the teacher just told me about it. ill think about it and tell the teacher my final decision," you replied before walking away.

yamaguchi's gaze simply follows your figure as you walk down the hallway, uneasiness filling it after a while. he was hopeful when yachi said something about finally finding a potential new manager for the volleyball team now that they are graduating, feeling determined to convince whoever it was. but now that he has talked to you, all those determination seem to have faded away and has been replaced with uneasiness. what if they arent able to convince you? you seemed like a very reserved and stiff person. and yachi was very picky with whom will replace her when she graduates as she takes this all way too seriously. plus, the teachers highly recommended you to yachi as well. the new manager has to be you.

"yamaguchi, practice starts soon. come on!" an even taller blonde buzzcut grumpily calls for him.

"tsuki, i told you to speak nicer when youre in the first years floor or else that rumor about your eyes sucking the souls out of them wont ever die down!"

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collars in place. no wringkles on the shirt. sleeves are neat. hair tightly tucked in a ponytail. and finally, a spray of a light scented perfume. with one last head-to-toe look at yourself in the mirror, you grabbed your bag and dashed out of the comfort room. you decided to accept the offer, well...kind of. a deal was offered to you as you didnt have any knowledge about the sports and how a sports club manager works. the deal was yachi showing you around and giving you an orientation of the job for a week before you can make your final decision of whether or not you would accept the position. you figured you had nothing but spare time to lose anyway and so here you are, about to meet the club's members for the first time. however, a blonde bob, you remembered as yachi, halts you by the door.

"hello, i dont know if you remember me but im the one who chased after you at the school gate last week! first of all, i would like to apologize for randmonly running after you! you mustve been surprised by a weirdo who was suddenly blabbing about joining a club without even asking if you were interested in joining one. im really sorr-" she rambles in one breath whilst bowing towards you until you cut her off.

"no! no, no, no dont be sorry! its totally fine! please, youre my senior you dont have to be so formal and bow to me. really, its all good. im assuming youre here to pick me up and take me to the gym for the orientation about being a manager of the volleyball club...?" you replied while putting your hands palms up towards her with an unsure expression. you werent expexting to see her waiting right outside the comfort room.

to be frank, you were quite excited about everything. its not often that your parents let you participate in an after school extracurricular activity but with a "mom, wouldnt it be a good addition to my leadership credentials for college applications?" you receive a hesitant approval. plus, its going to be a totally new experience, something you have promised yourself to do once you reach high school. you were always so focused on your studies ever since you were little due to your lack of friends. not that you were being treated badly by your peers, you have classmates whom you talk to at school but due to your lacking social skills, you never really got to make genuine friends whom you can talk to even outside of school about non-school related conversations. and so you promised yourself that once you enter high school, things would change.

of course, it wasnt easy. you couldnt just become a social butterfly overnight in one snap. but youve already tried so many times to befriend others and ask them to hang out after school but so far, the closes thing you got to an afterschool hang out was a group project meeting at a cafe on the weekends. you were so ecstatic at the progress and you all even had a groupchat where you all communicated. but after the projects presentation, the bond dispersed and the groupchat along with it, gone. and you are back to square one.

socializing in high school is hard. especially when majority of the people in class have already known each other since middle school. the friend groups have already been long established before and thus makes it hard to find people you can get along with it as you cant just get along with one of them, you have to be approved by everyone else from their circle to be even considered to be their potential friend. and so, when you were presented with this opportunity to become the manager of your schools volleyball club, you knew you were going to say yes. it was a good stepping stone to finally escape square one. you were determined to use this chance to finally make a friend.

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maybe you shouldve specified that 'friend' you were hoping to make when you wished for one. to say that you were flabbergasted at the sight before you was an understatement. a bunch of sweaty teenage high school boys jumping around and diving on the floor whilst multiple volleyballs fly across the net continuosly...these people are your contenders for a friend? the entire gym was full of grunting and cries of exhaustion. of course, what were you expecting? the men and women's volleyball team are separated, that makes sense. but what doesnt was how you didnt process the information that you were going to be the manager of the men's volleyball team. you shouldve known, their captain literally came to talk to you about it.

you released a breath you didnt know you were holding when you snapped yourself back to reality. theres no going back now. and besides, you have yachi by your side. she might be graduating soon but theres still a semester and a half left before that.

while you were trying to ground yourself back on earth and trying to process how youre going to survive being the manager of the volleyball club for the next two years, yamaguchi, who was disciplining the newbies of the team, catches your frozen figure by the door standing beside their current manager. his face immediately brightens at the sight of you and calls for a water break before striding towards you.

"yn! are you here to watch our practice match today?" he asks cheerfully. you were a little stunned with his sudden presence, wondering how you didnt notice him walking towards you earlier. nonetheless, you were quick to gather yourself to respond to him.

"oh, im actually here to observe yachi and the team. i wasnt informed that there was a practice match today..." you turned to yachi to raise an eyebrow to confirm which would be your first task as a new manager in training. unfortunately for you, she wasnt standing where she was just a second ago. so you turned back to the captain with an embarrased chuckle, to which he replies with a genuine laugh.

"you can take a seat beside the coaches over there, yachi might not be able to help you out a lot today because of the practice match so you can just seat and observe for now," he explains whilst pointing to a bench on the right side of the court.

"i would introduce you to the members right now but...the newbies are a little out of their minds from the nervousness of their first ever practice match since joining, the second years are busy trying to calm them down and we, the third years, are helping them with their warm ups," he adds. you understandingly nodded at his words before walking towards the coaches and introducing yourself to them. they seem to be a little on edge too, only giving you a meek nod to acknowledge your existence. so you simply sat there, quietly. completely unsure of what to do.

it was unintentional. and you really didnt have anything to say nor anyone to talk to so you ended up unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation between the coaches who sat in front of you, emphasis on unintentionally.

apparently, the karasuno volleyball team was playing against a neighboring rival. a powerful team whom theyve built tradition with of always playing against each other for each schools newbies first practice match, aoba johsai high. now, you werent big on sports, you know them but you never really paid attention as much as others would especially in your school. however, it doesnt mean that you were in the dark about your schools "legendary freshmen," as some students would say, players who completely turned the tables and made their mark on karasuno history as a remarkable duo. you were aware of such history of the players who once played for your school.

so you couldnt really help but involuntarily learn some volleyball terminologies whilst being a student in karasuno who had a reputable volleyball team. still and all, you werent completely knowledgeable of the sports and what kind of teams there were in other schools. lucky for you, as the coaches are yappers and you were able to listen to the bits of information they had about the rival team who would be visiting your school for the practice match.

you were able to gather that, aoba johsai was apparently also a reputable school with a history of remarkable players, especially a captain who was well known for being an incredible setter who now plays for the argentina team and how this year, the school was able to find a successor of the said player. a promising first year prodigy who might already be in the talks of possibly being invited to japans u-19 team. as muh as you were enjoying listening in on the coaches conversation, your eavesdropping session was cut off by yachi calling for you. so you (disappointedly) immediately stood up and walked towards her.

"im really sorry, y/n! i totally forgot that we have a practice match today! but its a good start to show you what a manager does during a game so worry not! your time is not wasted and youll still learn something today!" she enthusiastically hands you a few bottles of energy drinks and towels and asks you to help her distribute them among the players.

"theres actually quite a lot of things to do as a manager but its nothing too hard to handle. usually during practices and games, we just need to make sure that their bottles are filled with water and always have the towels ready to give to them during time outs," whilst you were distributing the drinks and towels, a surge of teenage girls went swarming in to the gymnasium. all of them wearing a different colored uniform from yours. you assumed they must be from the school whos playing against karasuno today. not long after, the players from aoba johsai arrives as well. so you ignored them and resumed with your task. but of course, even though some of them had their souls doing some sort of astral projection due to nervousness, the sound and sight of an audience catches their attention and interests piqued. unfortunately, they were too distracted with the sudden audience and didnt notice you trying to hand them a towel and accidentally bumps their open lid energy drinks on your extended arm, the collision causing the contents of the bottle to spill all over your uniform blouse. your white uniform blouse.

the players panics and they started crowding all over you, handing you a towel and profusely apologizing for the trouble theyve caused when you havent even actually met them yet. of course, you accepted their offers to help you out with a smile thats trying to mask your devastation as the shirt you were wearing was brand new and you were sure to get a scolding once you get home. yachi on the other hand immediatey ushers you towards her bag, that was on the other side of the gym, to which she says contains a spare shirt you can change into. unfortuately, things were about to get worse. just as you were about to walk out to change your clothes after yachi handed her spare shirt to you, a late comer from the other school dashes through the door and collides with you. he was also holding a drink on his hand, "was" because now its spilled all over your blouse. again.

great. two shades of beverage stain. energy drink and iced americano. all over you white uniform blouse. but at least yachis shirt was saf— nevermind. it had coffee stains on it as well.

meanwhile, the former owner of the coffee was grunting while sitting on the floor, his hands rubbing his lower back that was in pain from the unexpected landing on concrete from the collision between you two. he opens his eyes as he realizes that his cup of coffee was no longer in his hand but spilled all over you and the clean shirt you were supposed to change into after having an energy drink spilled on you just moments ago.

well, this is a great first day of orientation as the possible new manager of the volleybalm team.

the boy frantically stands up with his jaw dropped, eyes on your figure on the floor. before he could say anything to you, another boy rushes to the scene and turns to the boy with a stressed and frustrated face.

"MYUNG JAEHYUN! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

to be continued...

©️ tobiotaesan

do not repost or translate without permission !

[aangelinakii]

I DON'T SMOKE.

— if you need to be mean, be mean to me.

summary : after another inevitable argument, jason picks up the pack of cigarettes he hates to pick up. seems like he's been seeing it more than usual recently.

TRIGGER WARNING BEFORE YOU READ : mention of smoking / possible addiction to nicotine, and a very toxic unhealthy relationship

jason wasn't a smoker before he met you. in fact, he had been quite healthy; always eating well, didn't drink often, exercised an hour every day. but now he always kept a pack of camels in his bag.

they tasted shit, which made it hurt just that much more.

for some reason, you seemed to bring the worst out in him, and he for you. but he couldn't seem to let you go. it was as if you were the nicotine he brought into his lungs; he wanted more, needed more, craved more.

spend too long apart and his body physically missed your presence, as unhealthy as it were.

each time you fought – always about something stupid, something small – he took a puff or two. or until his fingers were blistered and burnt, and there was barely any tobacco left. the correlation became uncanny. you were a cigarette to him; better than any camel he'd had. but you were deteriorating him, bit by bit.

his friends and family had noticed long ago, but any time they tried to talk to him about it, jason was quick to lash out and deny. inside he knew, but outwardly admitting any of the pain you gave him caused his heart to ache.

no matter what you did, he would forgive you, almost straight away. sometimes it was bad and it took him a few days, but he'd always come running back, you knew that. he knew that.

part of him even expected things to get better, after a hug and a kiss. "i'm so sorry for hurting you, my love," you would say every time. "i will do better, i promise."

both of you knew full well not to trust anything that came out of your mouth.

alas, the two of you had broke out into a full-on fight during dinner. neither of you could remember what it was about by now; it was always something dumb, anyway. the walls shook as you wailed, screamed, shouted and cried at one another.

as you ended in tears and a shaking embrace, everything came to a close, but that itch in the back of jason's mind had ticked off. he needed a smoke.

he'd waited until you were asleep. you weren't supposed to know that he smoked, but you did, and he knew that you did; he wasn't good at hiding it, and it was impossible to ignore the stench of smoke on his breath and on his jackets.

in the pale moonlight, jason sat on the edge of your shared bed, knee jiggling anxiously. his eyes flicked towards the nightstand, and he reached out towards it, carefully pulling on the knob so as to not wake you.

there it was: his pack.

he slid open the window, peering behind him to make sure your back was still turned to him, and your frame was still snoring softly. a nicotine stick hung from his lips, and his lighter had been tucked into one of his hands.

with the window open, the gotham fumes began to waft into the room; an average scent of gasoline and tires. down below, cars still roamed the roads, despite the time. but gotham was a city that didn't sleep, and accompanied those who shared the same habit of staying up.

that's why he loved living in gotham. well... define love.

sparks flew as flint hit steel, and the end of his cigarette sizzled as the lighter gave flame.

jason's anxiety finally began to settle as he inhaled through his mouth, clouds forming in his lungs. and he breathed out, the fog he'd taken in releasing into the gotham air.

something shuffled behind him, and the man flinched as a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, his flesh instinctively retracted.

"come back to bed..." your fatigued voice thrummed against his back, muted by the fabric of his shirt.

he lowered his arm out the window, in an attempt to redirect the smoke steaming from the end of his cigarette – but he knew you weren't stupid.

"yeah, just a minute," he grumbled, thumb stroking against your forearm for a moment before softly pushing you away.

as you tumbled back to the sheets behind him, he took one more quick inhale before pressing the ashes of the cigarette against the brick wall outside, and flicking away the remnants of addiction.