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#enough being sick i have had enough i tells ya
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Little Girl Gone- Emily X GN!Reader/BAU X GN!Reader.
Synopsis: Being back in your old town, it’s no surprise you’d have to see a person you never wanted to see again, the only difference is this time is that you can handle yourself.
Warnings: Insinuations of past abuse but no details given, misuse of reader's pronouns by abuser not the team, talks of not handling past trauma but Emily is there for us, we’re really just a badass.
Word Count: 1.6k
A/n: THIS MAY HAVE A TRIGGER FOR ANYONE WITH PAST TRAUMA AND I DIDNT INCLUDE ANY DETAILS FOR THAT REASON, IF THAT MAY BE TOO MUCH FOR YOU PLEASE SKIP THIS ONESHOT. Other than that, yes this is based off a song leave me alone 🥰 You guys have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get something out for you guys, hopefully more will come soon!
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
You had heard he's back in town, and clearly, he hasn't changed a bit.
He was sitting there, appearing clueless, with you staring at him behind the glass. Your anger was boiling to the surface, and while it was clear to the team you were upset, they had no idea.
Your attention snapped back when a mention of your name was heard, the reason was beyond you, "That's what this is about? That bitch Y/n?" He chuckled and it made you sick. "Please, that little girl has nothing on me."
Hearing the way he said your name brought back some unfriendly memories you tried so hard to forget.
But when he muttered your name again, seeing how much it pissed Derek off, you knew you needed to do something. You have heard enough, it's not about you. It's about the 3 murdered girls.
You opened the door of the observation room to see Hotch standing there, "I'm going in there."
"That's not a good idea, you know that. He's trying to get under your skin."
"Hotch, with all due respect, I wasn't asking. Besides, I'm not the small child he last saw me as. I'm going in the there."
Hotch just quietly stood back, maybe a familiar face would get him to give them something they could use.
You walked into a familiar scene, Derek towering over the unsub shouting at the top of his voice, and the unsub pretending it's doing nothing to them.
"YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS-"
"Derek!"
With your interruption, both men stopped and looked towards you. Derek knew it was up to you, but he didn't like that idea. 
And him. Oh, him. 
He looked like he thought he'd finally got something he wanted if only he knew. Well, he would soon enough.
"Derek, I've got this. Go take a breather, I think Garcia has something she wanted to go over with you."
"I'm not leaving you in here with him." He stood tall in protest.
The man stood, suddenly filled with some form of faux confidence, "Yeah, little girl, you don't wanna be left here with me, unless you do?" His sadistic simper took over his face, his arm reaching out to touch you.
You grabbed his wrist and instantly snapped it back, flipping his arm behind him and then slamming him into the metal interrogation table.
"Oh, you wanna fight me now?" You pulled his arm further. "That little girl is gone. So tell me, are you big enough?"
"Fucking bitch!" His pain filled his voice and you tried to hide the joy it brought you.
"Do you feel that? Me twisting your arm until it breaks? Do you see how much stronger I've gotten?" He was struggling under you, and you were handling him with ease.
Derek was proud watching you, knowing the things that happened to you.
But the rest of the team was behind the glass watching carefully, they knew about him but not the things he'd done. But they did know your strength.
But now, he was groaning and mumbling something.
"Say that again, I didn't quite hear ya! You messed with the wrong 'bitch' in the wrong era!" You pulled him up off the table and shoved his face into the wall in a quick move, moving closer to him, "Honey, I changed so much since I last saw ya."
"I'm gonna say it, I'm proud of them." Rossi wasn't hiding his proud smile either as he watched you move him around like a rag doll.
You once again pulled him from the wall and slammed him back into the table.
"You know, maybe I will leave. I think I'd grab a cup of coffee, want some L/n?" Derek asked, knowing you definitely could handle yourself.
"I'm good, I'm awake now."
"NO NO NO! She'll kill me! You can't leave me alone with her!" He pleaded, as much as he could with his face smashed into metal.
"You know, I don't really think that's a bad thing. Do you, L/n?"
"Not at all."
He tried moving from your grasp, "No!"
"Then tell me where the girl is!" Derek slammed his hands on the table in his face, though he was still firmly pinned to the table all thanks to you, you could still feel the way he flinched.
Within the moments you walked into that room, the man finally showed how scared he actually was, realizing that now he truly is nothing.
"BOAT!"
You pull him off the table, holding him to face Derek and the team behind the mirror. 
"What was that?" You asked, hearing what he said but needing more details.
"The girl. She's on a boat. Down at the marina, slip 7."
"Ah, so you do know what's good for you." Derek said as he left the room.
"No! Wait!"
A smirk came to your face, and you knew that if you weren't an active agent you'd definitely get your revenge.
In a swift move, you had him pinned to the wall by his throat.
You took a split second to look at the man that robbed you of so much.
My god did he look like shit.
Years didn't do him good, and the illegal things he tried to hide likely didn't help.
"You. You got lucky. I've got too damn much to lose if I go after you now," You were practically seething. "But know this, you are nothing. You are shit. I took all of what happened to me, and I made something of myself. I did. Me. So don't you think for one second that you ever had an effect on me." He definitely had an effect on you, years worth of effects. But he wasn't going to know that. He didn't need that. 
He may have ruined the child you were, but he doesn't get to even be near the person you grew into.
You simply released him, part of the child that's still inside you wanted to do more but the other part of that child was so proud of how far you came.
You left him for the uniformed officer to take, walking out of the interrogation room to get some air or a drink, only there was something in your path.
Or rather, some people.
Half the team to be precise. David, Emily, and Reid were still in the precinct. And they just witnessed basically everything.
"I'm proud of you kiddo," Rossi spoke first, and only then did you release the breath you were holding.
"Thanks."
"I think this calls for a celebration, tonight. Your pick." He spoke with a head nod and walked out.
Reid just did his smile thing, and you knew you'd both likely have a conversation later.
But Emily, she stayed put, letting you go to her.
"You know you can let it out now, only if you want of course." She said finally as you walked up to her.
A shaky breath left you and you attempted to hide it with a faux chuckle.
She did know you the best.
"Come on, out with it. You know you can talk to me." Her damn eyebrow raise had you wanted to spill everything like always.
"I was so scared, Em." Another unstable breath came from your lips.
Emily reached up to wipe a tear you hadn't felt escape.
"God, I'd be worried if you weren't. You're only human." Her hand went to cup your cheeks, and for a second you simply looked into her eyes.
You didn't really know what to say, so you said nothing. You feared the only thing that would come out would be a sob.
"You handled that so well, and I speak for the team when I say I'm proud of you. It was hot the way you handled him." A small chuckle left you, she always knew how to get you to laugh.
"It just, brought back so many things I've tried for so long to forget." You looked to the floor with shame, ashamed it still got to you.
"Hey, look at me," She pointed your chin so you'd look at her. "Don't think that there's ever a right time to just 'get over it' because there's not. Everyone has their own timeline, and their own way of coping, that makes us human. And the fact that you didn't give in to the revenge you know you were thinking of, just shows how much you've grown."
She was right. Of course she was, when wasn't she? She knew the ins and outs of you. Every curve and every line. She knew your soul better than your body did.
"Come on, the team will finish the paperwork and we can go back to the hotel, you can shower and we'll meet them after for drinks." Your head rested against her shoulder as she put her arm around you while you both walked out of the precinct.
While you both arrived at your hotel room, the team safely got the girl from the boat, though she was a bit shaken up, she was unharmed. Physically, at least.
While the shower helped relax your tense body, it didn't help much with the resurfacing memories. You were simply disassociating at a cracked shower tile until Emily took it upon herself to be your distraction in the shower.
And of course, it certainly helped.
And later on, the team did their best to talk about pretty much anything but the case. Not like you were really upset about that honestly.
Having the people who you cared about around you, that's what helped the most. Having your love by your side and having your family around you.
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
Taglist: @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @bigolgay @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @hxzxrdous @sgelessoanddoveykissing
I feel like I’m forgetting a few people on my tag list so comment if you want to be a part of my updated tag list!
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roronoacherries · 4 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 | roronoa zoro
788 words
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content: comfort, fem. reader, sfw, established relationship, reader is sick and zoro is the sweetest boyfriend.
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you tried to stay still, tried to be as quiet as possible, but you couldn’t stop turning in bed. and then the tears came. all you wanted to do was rest, but your body was refusing to allow you to.
that was when zoro woke, and you cried a little more because you hadn’t meant to wake him so early too. he’d been on night watch, and was surely as tired as you.
“what’s wrong? are you okay?” zoro pulled you closer to him, hearing your sniffles.
“feel like shit.” you cried. you were shivering and sweating at the same time, your head was killing you, your throat felt sore, your nose was runny, and you couldn’t stop crying. and on top of it all you had to be up soon.
“you’re burning up,” zoro whispered, holding a hand to your cheek. “i’ll go get chopper.”
“don’t leave.”
“i’ll be quick.”
he pressed a kiss to your temple before leaving to find the doctor. you weren't sure how long he'd been gone and though you knew it couldn't have been long, it felt like an eternity to you. all you wanted to do was sleep. to rest and escape the pain you felt throughout your body. 
instead, all you do was cry and turn and turn and turn in bed. when chopper came in to check on you, you could hardly focus on the words he spoke… but zoro — he clung to each syllable. 
“a tea could help you sleep better. i’ll bring you down a remedy as soon as i can.”
“i’ll bring it,” zoro interrupted. “and i’ll ask sanji to make you a tea, too.” 
his hand rested briefly on your forehead, gently brushing your hair to the side. “i’ll be right back.” 
you muttered a faint, i love you and the swordsman returned the sentiment with a kiss to your temple before stepping out behind chopper. you hated the thought of chopper and sanji being disturbed at this hour for your sake. all because you’d gotten sick and couldn’t sleep. pathetic. 
a fucking pirate and you still couldn’t take care of yourself. the sensible part of you could tell you that you were being ridiculous, that it was alright to depend on others sometimes, but it was hard to ignore the overwhelming voice in your head that was telling you you were being a burden, that chopper and sanji and zoro were losing sleep over you — and god, zoro deserved better. 
he deserved a girlfriend who wasn’t so weak, one who wouldn’t cry from a little fever. he deserved someone who wasn’t going to spiral at 4am because he was sweet enough to bring her tea and medicine and take care of her. 
“aight, sanji sent camel-somethin’ tea and a bowl of almonds and fruit, said it’d help you sleep better… and chopper told me to make sure ya take two spoons of this stuff,” zoro held up a bottle, his arms full as he pushed open the door. “how ya doin?” 
“i love you and i don’t deserve you,” you whined. 
“sanji said the same thing,” zoro said, ignoring your pout and setting everything down on the nightstand before helping you sit up. he pulled up a chair beside you for himself. “he went on about poor y/n and she deserves better than a big oaf taking care of her. he offered to come spoonfeed ya, actually, i could go get ‘im.” 
“no, i think i’m all better now actually…” you smiled, not needing a mirror to know you looked like shit. “but if the big oaf feels like spoonfeeding me, i wouldn’t mind it.”
your boyfriend only rolled his eyes, reaching for the spoon and chopper’s bottle. “two spoons is all you’re getting. open wide, babe.” 
you didn’t know if it was chopper’s medicine, sanji’s tea, or zoro’s hands rubbing circles into your skin, but it didn’t take long before you started to feel better and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. “baby, i think i can sleep okay now…” 
zoro took the tea cup from your hands. “want me to sleep next to you?” he hummed, knowing there was something you were leaving unspoken. 
“you’ll get sick.” you whispered. 
“that’s not an answer.” 
“please,” you smiled weakly, wanting nothing more than to rest your head against zoro’s chest and feel the weight of his arms around you. 
you could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body against yours. 
“it doesn’t matter if i get sick,” zoro said, his eyes closed and his fingers brushing through your hair. “i’ve got a beautiful, sweet girl to take care of me.
i don’t deserve her.” 
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something about zoro putting aside his pride to wake sanji and ask him to make you tea. something about zoro knowing exactly what you need without you saying it. knowing how to comfort you without being too obvious about it. him taking care of you because he knows you’re more than he deserves (and he knows that you don’t think you’re enough) and because you take care of him the same way everyday. something about zoro.
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taglist: @zorobraun @maaarshieee @lyriczhou @tinkywinky27 @dimimyth @gaby-chwan @tk6uro @zoros-4th-sword @idiotlittleme
masterlist | taglist
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chaotic-mystery · 7 months
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I have something for a request.
So Joel promised your father he would protect you from the Clickers and other people.
So you and Joel are walking through the forest and you start to annoy him. Because you are constantly asking how long does it take to get to the destination.
Joel had enough so he takes your virginity and your ass virginity roughly. So you shut up.
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pairing: Post Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
content warnings: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+ only. Non-consensual that turns consensual. You are responsible for what you read. Daddy kink, rough sex, assplay if you close an eye, pet names galore (little one, pet, playtoy, baby girl, Joel refers to himself as daddy, you get the picture.) mean!Joel, Dark!Joel, choking, reader has hair long enough to pull, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, pull out game strong, this is post outbreak but before Ellie so you know he got that stamina, Joel takes your virginity. LET ME KNOW IF I'VE MISSED ANYTHING. ||word count: 1.9k || follow @chaoticnotifs so you don't miss anything!||
authors note: This is so out of my normal and honestly I hope I did it justice! I know this isn't everyone's thing and that's okay! I personally pictured game Joel but that's just my preference. As always I love you all 🖤
“Will you please shut the fuck up?! All that goddamn talkin’ you’re doin, you’re gonna get us killed, Jesus Christ.” Joel barked as he turned on his heel, his rifle in hand. Joel promised your dad to keep you safe and while he has for a few years, it hasn’t been the easiest thing to do. You talked way too much for Joel’s liking but a promise was a promise.
“I’m just asking how much longer until we get to the tower…fuck me.” You grumble, annoyed at him for being so moody today. You were sweaty and tired, wanting to go back to the QZ in your little apartment you shared with Joel. He was over all your bullshit for today, sick of your smartass mouth just running and running without any repercussions.
“What’d you say t’me, little girl?” He snaps, the rifle falling to his side as his hand wraps around your throat and he pushes you into a tree trunk. The bark was hard against your back and scratched you, but it was nothing compared to the feeling you were having on your windpipe.
“N-nothing, Joel- nothing!” The words barely choked out of you, just enough for him to hear you beg.
“All you’ve been doin’ since we’ve been out here is talkin’ your pretty head off. What did I tell ya not even five minutes ago? Use that big girl voice since you wanna be big and bad.” Joels lips ghosted over the shell of your ear before he presses a rough sloppy kiss on your cheek. This was all so sudden, so new to you. No one has ever touched you like this, especially an older man like Joel. He was aggressive and mean, didn’t care about the fact his grip on your throat was tightening. He wasn’t in the mood to ask if any of this was okay with you, where his hands were quickly traveling to, none of it. Joel wanted to take what he wanted from you without you running your mouth.
A deep grumble erupts from Joel against your face, another sloppy kiss on your cheek while his tongue licks against your flesh. “Say it again, now.”
“I was just asking if we were close to the tower and-d that I was s-sorry-y!” You cried out, squirming under his touch trying to free yourself. With your back squished against the tree, there was nowhere to go. All you could do was plead and beg for him to let go and leave you be.
“What was that last part you’re leavin’ out, sweetheart?” The smirk on his face is so present in his tone you don’t even need to look at him. Joel’s freehand comes up your side, brushing against the bare skin peaking above your jeans. He could feel you trembling with fear and excitement. Joel knew you were still a virgin, he never let you out of his sight and always took the same work shifts as you so he could keep you close.
“I-ah shit- I said fuck me but I didn’t mean it like th-” Joels hand creeps up to your jaw and grabs it roughly, squishing your cheeks together and your eyes met his.
“Don’t care how you meant it sweetheart, planned on doin’ that anyway.” His smirk never faded and he without warning rips your jeans down, your panties tangled in them as the fabric bunches around your knees. The whimper that escaped your lips didn’t phase Joel as his hands wandered up your thighs to your slick covered cunt.
The guttural groan he let out rattled through your bones enough to make a chill run down your spine.
“Fuck are you so wet for, huh little one? Couldn’t control yourself could ya? Probably love the idea of being my playtoy while I take what I want and you’re beggin’ me to quit..but you know daddy won’t do that.” With his hand covering your mouth and squeezing tightly, your pleads were so muffled he could barely make out what you were saying.
Joel unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his ankles before he grabs you by the back of your neck and spins you around, forcing you against the tree once more as his hand pushes against the small of your back to make you arch for him. His hand reaches around your hips to dip down between your folds, rubbing harshly on your clit as the head of his cock nudged against your ass cheek.
You tried everything to pry his hand away from your mouth but he only squeezed tighter, growling at your attempts. “Might as well give up now, it’ll go over a lot better for you if you quit fightin’ me, sweet girl.” He mutters in your ear as he starts to ram his cock inside your entrance. He doesn’t let you get adjusted to him at all and the tears fall immediately down your cheeks. You cry out in pain, shoving his hips away from you but he doesn’t stumble back at all.
“Joel ple-ase it h-hurts” you murmur against his palm and he just chuckles as he begins to thrust inside you.
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth before I fill it for you, am I clear? S’okay, you’re just a little virgin, don’t know what you like. I’ll teach you what you like, baby; trust me.” He scolded. It felt as if you were being shredded and ripped apart from the inside out with the way he was carving away at you.
The only manageable response you gave him was a distressed “yes d-addy” which was just enough to make his head toss back while his hips slam into yours so harshly, the faint slapping of your skins echoed around you.
He lets go of the grip he has on your mouth, a string of saliva following from your lips to his palm and he grabs onto your shoulders to keep himself steady. Joel doesn’t dare let you see how much he’s enjoying this; ruining you and taking every bit of last innocence you had. His jaw was clenched tightly to keep his grunts at bay but it was still audible how much he loved feeling you clench around him so tightly, hugging his cock for dear life. Soon enough your pain turned to pleasure and you were fucked out of your mind, gripping onto the tree truck and begging for him not to stop as the pressure built up in your tummy.
“I knew you’d be a tight little virgin but damn sweetheart..” he leans in close and his hand finds its way around your throat once more, yanking you against him, “..you’re gonna be so dickdumb by the time I’m through with you-ughh- you’ll be beggin’ for me to fill you full every goddamn second you’re awake.” Joel’s other hand cups your tit through your thin shirt, kneading away mercilessly as your nipples get stiffer against your bra.
“J-joel please..I..I’m gonna come..” you whine out, body trembling and making it harder to stand up on your wobbling legs. Suddenly your head is being yanked backwards by your hair and Joel’s lustful eyes meet yours, his jaw still clenched tightly.
“Don’t you dare come until I say so. Be a good pet for daddy, mkay? Stay jus’ like that f’me, right there. Oh fuck, baby..” He stops thrusting long enough to put you down on the ground and him right behind you, shoving your face into the dirt with your ass in the air. In no time he finds his rhythm again and gives your ass a firm smack with a chuckle following behind it.
Joel slips the tip of his thumb in his mouth, covering it in spit before he traces over your asshole and goes inside you, groaning loudly as he can feel his cock pumping in and out of you just from having his thumb in your ass.
It’s taking every ounce of control not to come on his cock and disappoint him even more than you already have tonight. With your legs squeezed together as hard as you can, it wasn’t enough to keep your mind off of having the best orgasm you have ever had.
Sure, you touched yourself all the time while Joel was asleep in the next room over back in the apartment, squirming and whimpering like a kitten as your mind wandered to Joel and ran images over your eyes that just made it so easy to come for yourself. This however was not what you imagined Joel would be like. You imagined he’d be sweet, wanting to make your first time feel special and all that stuff you watched in movies before the outbreak. He was none of that.
“You want me to break you in two and just make your world crumble, huh? You filthy little one. You’re my toy now, no one can save you from me.” He spat as his thrusts got sloppy and his grip on your hips got tighter, nails digging into your flesh.
With your body fighting itself to not orgasm, your tears spilled out of your eyes once more, breaths so deep you squeak every time you inhale.
“Cry all you want, brat. They don’t mean shit t’me.”
“Daddy, ple-ease let me come-oh, fuckkk- I- I can’t hold off m-much longer, plea-se I’ll be good, pleaseee.” Trying to speak through gritted teeth, you begged and pleaded trying to reason with him so you could finally release.
“Come on then, let that fuckin’ pussy come all over me. Let me feel what it's like to have a virgin fall apart on my cock and beg me not to fill them up.”
The evil tone was enough to send you reeling and your eyes rolled back tightly as you finally released that pressure you had to put off.
“What a good fuckin’ pet you are for Daddy. That’s ittt.” He purrs, slamming into your hips as he panted loudly.
Your body felt numb and you were still seeing stars, your ears ringing and his moans were so muffled you couldn’t do anything but jolt as the waves of your orgasm washes over you. Soon enough he rips is cock out of your entrance and you feel empty, already missing him inside you.
Joel grunts and cusses loudly as he paints a pretty picture on your asscheek with his cum.
You fall to your side and catch your breath while Joel goes soft in his hand, watching you as he tries to manage his own breathing.
“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me, won’t you baby?”
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eee-lordy · 3 months
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Practice Makes Perfect
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!!! nsfw minors dni !!!
Jacob offers to help fem!reader get her first time over with. 6k
───※ ·❆· ※───
"Ready for your big move?" Jacob huffed, dropping a particularly heavy box onto the top of another. He'd come over to help you start packing up, you had a week left.
"Mostly, yeah I think so." You grinned, knowing he was talking more about emotionally than materialistically. Your eyes scanned the bare bones of your first apartment. It had been a welcoming and safe space for a handful of years now, but the time had come to move onto bigger and better things.
"Let's drink to the beginning of the end, then, shall we?" Your dearest pal declared, toting over glasses and liquor from your fridge.
"Don't say it like that, nothings ending here." You warn, sick at the thought of there being a time limit on your friendship once a little space got in the way. Jacob sat next to you on the sofa, pouring you each a drink.
"Okay sorry, we'll toast to now, then. May we enjoy every moment." Jacob's sincerity past the silly tone he used warmed your confounded heart. So many feelings had plagued you since finding out about your big move. How excited you were for the fresh start, and how you were, in fact, dreading leaving behind everything you loved so dearly, everyone.
As you sat and drank, it was all Jacob could talk about. He asked you all kinds of questions. What the place was like you were headed to, how you may come to decorate the home you were set to buy. How you may plan to spend your time. You fawned over descriptions of some new furniture you'd had shipped to your new place. And excitedly quipped about the plans you were making for the distant future.
"I hope to just go wild. Create a whole new thing for myself, ya know? Try everything, live to the fullest." The realizations that you could become whoever you wanted most to be in an all new place had your imagination running wild since theses plans became solid.
"And what are you most nervous about?" Jacob countered, squinting as if he knew this question was one that might really challenge you.
"Oh... I don't know." You feigned a laugh, hoping your face hadn't flushed red. Because you had been increasingly nervous about one thing, fretting over the many outcomes your imagination brought to life every time you wondered how to take on this certain situation...
"Ohhhh no." Jacob grinned wickedly, shifting in his seat to face you a little more head on, pointing his half full beer in your direction. "There is something, I know when you aren't telling me things, you know?"
"Jacob, can we please drop this?" You plead, feeling like sinking in on yourself for letting your facade drop for even a second.
"All I'm saying is, if you're this nervous about something, maybe I can help?"
"I highly doubt you can help with this one, dude." You let out a mortified giggle, feeling your blush coming back tenfold.
"Hey." Jacob lowered his tone, cocking his head to catch your eye. His were serious. "You know you can tell me whatever it is-"
"Is embarrassing-"
"And I won't judge you. You know that." And you did know. Jacob had told you his own mortifying confessions, from the time he'd lost his clothes in a sketchy overnight gym, to the salacious dreams he'd had about certain unattractive costar way back before you knew him. As you reminded yourself of the story Jacob once told you of his mishap with a zipper during the first night he spent in the bed of a lady, you realized you could tell him what was on your mind.
"Okay fine." You gritted through your teeth, clasping your hands together only to anxiously wring them. Jacob stayed quiet and awaited your words.
"I'm most nervous about having sex." You declared. "Because I'm more than ready to get out there and do it, but the thought of sleeping with some stranger is appalling, and I don't know who I trust enough to ask to see me through that awfully awkward first time. And what if I never meet someone I trust enough, just-" With a disgruntled sigh, you realized you were rambling.
"You're a virgin?" Jacob's mouth twisted into a confounded frown as his head turned much like a baffled puppy dog. Your friends studying of you made you want to slip into nonexistence.
"So what?" You huffed a nervous laugh, daring to meet Jacob's piercing eyes for the first time since revealing your secret.
"It's just I thought you'd have done it, like... a lot." He shrugged. "Being so smokin' hot, and all."
"I am not hot, Elordi, and despite really being ready, I'm way too nervous to do it. That's the whole issue here." You scoffed, taking a frustrated swig of your drink.
"Uh, yeah you are. And what is there to be nervous about, anyway?" He quizzed.
"What if I do the wrong thing or say something weird or just make a complete fool of myself? Or what if I hate it? I'm ready for it. But I really am scared I will never meet the right person to deal with how in my head I am about this..."
Jacob let his gaze fall to the floor, seeming to puzzle over your words. A considerable amount of silence settled about the room before either of you spoke again. He was the one to break that silence.
"Do you... trust me?"
Your eyes widened and your stomach tied itself into a knot.
"I mean, you know I think you're attractive. So, I won't care or even notice if you make a complete fool of yourself. And we know all each other's secrets. That's trust. And if you hate it, we stop. I'm kind of the perfect candidate her, love." His confidence had blossomed with the help of the drinks you two had shared tonight. Jacob spoke with assuredness, letting no signs of awkwardness show in his daring offer. The whole thing had your head spinning.
"Jacob."
"All I'm saying is... if you want, I'm down. If not, I get it." He took a swig, the last of his third glass. "I'm just saying..." Jacob let his sharp dark eyes rake across your figure as you sat in place, trying not to squirm. You considered the expression in his gaze, clearly drinking you in, yet keeping a respectable distance.
"I'll... think about it." And you really would.
He nodded. You nodded. He got up and turned on a movie. You went searching for more to drink. As some rather boring action flick unfolded on your telly, your mind raced. You did trust Jacob. You did find him attractive too. With his angelic features and fit figure. And you wouldn't mind if this little... experiment led to something a little more serious either. But that was a wild far off distant dream. And still, all the things that mortified you about doing it with a stranger made you just as nervous to consider in the company of one of your closest friends.
"It would just be, like, educational right? Just... one friend helping out another?" You pipped up in the middle of the action movies climax.
"It would be whatever you needed or wanted it to be, doll. I'm offering my sincerest assistance." Jacob spoke easily, keeping his apparent focus on the telly screen, settled an inch away from where you sat on the sofa.
You hummed in understanding, acknowledging how both of you kept your eyes glued to the movie on your screen, and that seemed soothing. There didn't seem to be any pressure, there didn't seem to be any stakes. And as you considered your nerves, you wondered if the feeling was more that of anxious wonder. And then you realized there was a way to test this theory...
"Kiss me. Then I'll know." You thought out loud.
"Know what?"
"If you're a shitty kisser or not. And if I'd even dream of letting you sleep with me." You were drunk enough to speak without consideration. You were curious enough to take Jacob up halfway on his offer. You really hoped he wasn't a shitty kisser. You may have let him have his way with you even if he was.
With a decided shrug Jacob leaned in. His lips were soft, the gentle way he pressed his against yours was more than comfortable. You let yourself relax into pressing your own kiss back, and he took that as a signal to deepen his display of affection. And the kiss that began as a seemingly casual interaction took a different form. Jacob let his lips slowly open, encouraging yours to do the same. As your kissing grew longer and deeper, your very dear friend let his fingers reach to brush your hair back; then let his digits press against the base of your neck to pull your lips ever closer.
The gentle forcefulness Jacob commanded brought a contented sigh from your throat, and your friend's smile in response broke your interaction.
"I'll take that as a yes?" He smirked, eyes focusing on yours close up.
"It's just... a lot to consider."
He had kept his hold on you. His hand clutching the back of your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hair.
"Listen. I won't push this on you. It's no sweat if you decide against it. But I really would be very patience and more than glad to help you out here. That's the last I'll speak of it. Now, what are we watching next?"
You spent the rest of that evening next to Jacob in mutual silence. You watched films until your friend grew tired and called it a night. All the while your mind raced from one scenario to the next. Wondering what the worst could turn out to be, if you said yes, or no.
///
Jacob stopped by one night later, saying he was simply in the neighborhood and wondered if you'd needed any kind of help continuing to pack up. So, you put him to work, cleaning out drawers and folding clothes into suitcases. You talked a lot while working, about eachothers lives and dreams and silly things. But the conversation kept leading back to the topic of your move.
"I'll be hours away from all my family and it's not like I won't see them but I'll be so alone you know?" You confessed your fears for living in solitude and worrying over worst case scenarios.
"Hey, you'll make it just fine. You don't give yourself enough credit." Jacob insisted, moving about your room from one task to another. "Plus, I'm only one phone call away."
"I know." You whispered, peering up to your friend through your lashes, biting back a frown. You set a roll of tape and a box cutter on a nearby shelf, done with the tools for now.
"This is supposed to be a good thing, a happy thing." Jacob reminded you, shuffling to stand before you. He reached out to tilt your chin upward as if that would encourage a smile from you.
"I know." You whispered again. And with no way of knowing who leaned in first, all you knew was Jacob was kissing you again. And you relished the comfort of his affection. Nothing stopped you now from slinking a lazy arm around his neck as the guy let his grasp splay across your back.
Jacob was the first to break away, like before. But unlike then, he said nothing now. Jacob just leaned back far enough to catch your eye, as one of his brows lifted in a silent question.
"I think I might want to take you up on your offer..." You seemed to realize out loud. Maybe you had always wanted it to be him. Or maybe his encouragement had done the trick of talking you into feeling this way now. But you were never surer about being intimate with someone than now, with the way your dearest friend held you in his arms.
"Yeah?" He nodded with a furrow in his brow.
"Yes, I- if you're really sure." You stuttered.
"I am if you are." Jacob continued to nod. And after a beat, when he asked "Like, now? Right now?" You moved to nod along with him, even though your heart threatened to leap from your chest.
"Okay." He whispered. "You just need to tell me if it gets all too much, no matter what. Promise me you will."
"Yeah. I'm, like, really nervous. That's the big problem. But I trust you, so I am very sure."
"Well, I can certainly help with that." Jacob brought a hand to your hair, "I think." He lightly chuckled, pulling a face, setting your nerves at ease already.
"We'll just go very slow. How does that sound?" He asked, still keeping a hand rested on the side of your head, while his other crept down to the bend of your waist. You let out a held breath and nod assuredly.
"Okay." You flickered a smile. Jacob nodded too, his lithe grin remaining as he searched your face, his eyes landing on your lips. You hadn't fully expected him to agree to this, and you hadn't at all expected things to start right off the bat. But you couldn't complain when Jacob closed the gap and pressed a gently feather light kiss to your lips. As he did so, he tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear, and ever so slightly tightened his grip at the bend of your waist.
This resulted in your hands finding his shoulders, resting them between there and his chest- where you wondered if you were feeling your own rapid heartbeat in your palms, or his.
His lips left yours for a moment, but another feather light kiss came soon after. A couple more small steady pecks made you comfortable enough to fully relax in the hold Jacob was beginning to wrap around you; his hand moving to hold the back of your head, his other moving from the bend of your waist so his arm circled around you.
When your arms slid into a loose hold around the guy's neck again, his kisses started to ever so slightly deepen. His tongue teased your lips, his thumb caressed soothing circles against your rib cage, a delightful hum escaped his throat.
"This okay so far?" Jacob wondered in a hushed rumble, meeting your eyes between kisses. You nodded and softly smiled, waiting for the guy to continue. When he dove back in, his kisses deepened even further, his tongue pressed against yours, his hold tightening, pulling you almost entirely against himself. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, just kissing and letting hands roam against backs and through hair.
He'd barely done as much as hold you close, but you were already feeling the hot coil of desire burning low in your belly, and it was starting to spread every place else. Your every nerve was already on end.
"I could gladly do this all night." Jacob hummed, moving his kisses to pepper your jaw, and then down your neck. "But would you like to go any further? You tell me, doll."
"Sure, we can go further. I just need you to guide me through." You blew out another shaky breath, trying to release the jitters.
"I can do that. Just remember you can tell me to stop anytime for any reason." Jacob kissed your forehead and waited for you to nod in agreement. He kissed your cheek and then your lips, and let his hands begin to roam new territory. his fingers grazed under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin of your hips, skin that had never been touched by anyone but yourself until now. It was starting.
"Can I take this off, doll? I'll take mine off too. We'll be on the same page." Jacob sighed into your mouth, and couldn't resist kissing you between words. He left one set of fingers creeping under your shirt while the other gently tugged at the garment.
"I like that idea." You smiled, his lips brushing against yours in a phantom kiss.
He opted for his first, shedding his tee in a lazy fashion, revealing a sight you had seen before, his bare chest. But now was different from the hot summer days you'd been near the guy in such a state. Now you were free to oggel his frame entirely. 
Jacob watched you watching him as he delicately took hold of the base if your shirt, and pulled it up. You lifted your arms instinctively and tried not to shiver in an anxious display of vulnerability.
The man you'd come to trust tossed aside your favorite old concert tee and brought both his hands to the bare skin of your waist. He'd see you in swimsuits and crop tops but he'd never been so close. Never had his hot skin been so easily accessible under your touch. Never had he caressed you in such a state. The pair of you stood there, holding each other in a delicate morphing clasp, for a brief moment. Your breathing synchronized before Jacob nuzzled against your neck and mumble something about how beautiful he thought you looked, and how lovely he thought it was to hold you so close like this. It was almost too sweet, his musings and the gentle way he held you. But the pecks he placed against your neck turned into something fiercer, his teeth grazing, his breathing audible. All the while, his caresses turned too, his fingers pressed possessive against your skin, one hand moving to bring your hips as close to his as possible.
You let it happen, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades and letting out a delighted sigh. You knew this was supposed to be a fun positive experience. But you felt quite unprepared for how much you were enjoying yourself.
Jacob planted another sloppy kiss to your lips, encouraging you to match his energy.
He began to drag you a few steps in another direction, never daring to break away from the kiss you were sharing, until he had to. Jacob eased onto the side of your bed, gently pulling you into his lap. He maneuvered you into a straddle you were happy to settle into, leaving no space between the two of you, as your kisses continued.
"This all okay, doll?" Jacob hoped, as his warm hand made its way toward your breasts, still covered.
"Yes Jacob," you breathed, taking your turn in moving kisses down the man's neck, not totally sure of your execution but lead by passion what could go so wrong, you wondered?
To your delight, Jacob practically melted under your bites and licks, and you were beginning to melt a little yourself, as he kneaded at your bra.
"You can take it off. If you want." You sighed, keeping up your work at his neck, moving from one side to the other.
"Oh, I've wanted to for a longer than you know." He let out a little laugh after his confession.
You sat up to meet his gaze, asking a question with one look.
"You know I've always thought you were beautiful. But I have always wondered just how much more beautiful under all your clothes." Jacob mewled, unclasping your bra after two tries. You let the thing fall away and slide down one arm to the floor, as Jacob ogled you shamelessly. Somehow the moment didn't cause you nearly as much nervousness as you'd anticipated. The way Jacob was handling this new interaction, the way he'd been handling you; caused your nerves that kept arising the settle, provoking much more excitement than you knew you were capable of feeling in a time like now.
"Even more beautiful than my imagination has been able to conceive." Jacob grinned up to you before rolling his eyes closed on his mission to cover you in kisses.
You couldn't hold back your sigh, one you'd never heard yourself make. A noise you didn't know you were capable of producing. Jacob's lips closed around one of your nipples while he let his hand attend to the other. You could feel his pants tightening beneath you, and his messy hair tangled in your fingers as you grasped at something to ground you. Things were moving at a steady pace yet seemed to be rocketing into progression much quicker than you were prepared for.
"Jacob." You reluctantly halted him, grabbing his attention away from making you feel so good. "Jacob, I don't want to stop, but can we slow down a little?" You asked in a shaky breath, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, like you'd just run a mile.
"Of course." He promised, planting closed mouth kisses across your collarbone. "Come'er."
Jacob pushed you from his lap to the middle of the bed and adjusted himself behind you, as you took in a couple deep breaths. Then his hands found your shoulders, and began to massage the tense muscle there.
"Are you still nervous? More or less? What can I do to help?"
"Still nervous. But you've been very patient so far and I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. Thank you, Jacob."
"You're practically a natural," Jacob purred in your ear, keeping up his work on your shoulders. You began to feel more at ease under his touch, and more ecstatic by his words and the tone of his voice. "Nothing to be nervous about."
Your hum gave him a green light to follow his hands with his lips, kissing the trail of his massaging.
He soon let his hands start to wander, keeping his face in the crook of your neck as his hands trailed lightly across your chest and tummy, stalling for a brief second at the hem of your pants before ghosting back up to brush at your already exposed skin.
You flipped around crawling into a position closer, moving to undo the button of his pants.
"You sure?" Jacob asked quickly, waiting for you to nod before shedding the trousers as lazily as he removed his shirt.
"Want me to do yours?" He asked, not wondering if you'd rather handle the task, but if you were ready for the next step to be initiated at all. You told him you were ready, looking right in the guy's hooded deep brown eyes.
Jacob gently pushed you against the stack of pillows at the head of your bed. For one small moment, you paused to look at each other and smile. And then your friend shifted and reached for the button of your trousers. You watched as he hooked a couple fingers in the hem to peel the fabric away from your body, his eyes drinking in every newly exposed inch of you. You helped kicked away the pants, as Jacob reached to pull you back into his lap. In one swift move, you pushed him back into the pillows. You relished having the boy pinned below you, as you closed in for another kiss.
His hands traced across the expanses of your skin, his warm form settled beneath yours in the very best ways. You began to let your fingers trace patterns across his chest, feeling the hammer of his heart. Now both clad in nothing but underwear, the thin fabric allowed for you to feel more exactly of how worked up you'd gotten the boy.
You weren't nervous now to roll your hips against his. Or even if you might've been, they seemed to move on their own accord, your body seeking to satisfy its growing desires. Your rocking against the man's lap grew quietly more confident, and in the matter of a couple grinds you had Jacob whimpering against your lips.
Jacob gently pushed you from his lap, moving to hover over you in turn. "Okay?" He asked more succinctly but paused and watched for your confirmation just as patiently as every time before. And right as you began to nod, Jacob pressed his clothed hips against yours, encouraging your legs to open a little wider to make space for him. He kept his eyes sharply focused on yours, as he kept grinding, palming at your breast all the while. You were overcome, the coil in your belly tightening, and you hadn't even gotten to the good part.
His hand that had been working at your breast traveled downward, stalling near the hem of your underwear. Just as Jacob opened his mouth to ask if his next move was allowed, you were quicker. You grabbed his forearm and gently pushed his hand past the fabric of your undergarment, immediately glad for it.
His fingers found their way gently to your heat, giving subtle barely there caresses to the part of you that was most sensitive. Your toes curled and your heart stalled as he touched you with such tender intention. The pair of you managed to settle side by side, and without discussion, you reached to move Jacobs fingers to the spot he'd been nearly close to finding. The feeling that followed sent sparks through your nervous system, and your own hand shot out toward Jacob's underwear in response. You didn't ask, you simply slid your digits up and down the clothed length of your friend's crotch, relishing the shuttered breaths he released as you did so. The pair of you kept this up for a short moment, kissing when you weren't stealing each others breath away.
"Can we get to the part where you fuck me?" You sighed, worried that if you didn't do so soon, in the midst of your highest confidence, you'd lose the nerve. Jacob let out a quiet chuckle as he nodded, moving to shed the last of both of your clothes. Gentle as ever, he took as much time with this process as ever, making you more at ease and anxious for the next step all the same.
"Are you sure?" Jacob worried, settling between your legs. You kept one hand against his face and the other set of your fingers grasping his shoulder. You nodded quickly between shaky breaths, your nerves heightening slightly at the realization this was happening. But then Jacob shook his head. "I'm not doing anything until you relax, doll."
You were fully aware of your uneven breathing and the tensing of your body, due to the anxiousness that threatened to swallow you whole. You wanted this, you really did. But that didn't stop your nervous system from going a bit haywire during such an unprecedented situation.
"Relax." Jacob repeated. He petted your hair back and smoothed a hand across your shoulder, attempting to ease the tension you held there. You tried your best to settle a bit more comfortably against the sheets as the guy spoke up again. "Take like four deep breaths, and relax." Jacob guided you through his desired number of focused inhales, taking them in just as deeply himself. You closed your eyes during the last couple and felt yourself truly a little more at ease by way of Jacob's help and kind focus. You watched the guy breath out same as you, the fourth time, and after a beat he gave you a subtle nod.
"Good, that's better. Now, are you super sure?" He prompted, letting his hands hold you firmly against him, not daring to move until you gave your full, more at ease, confirmation. When you said yes with a smile, Jacob smiled too, and proceeded to line his hips up with yours.
As he pressed into you slow and steady, he cooed in your ear. Mumbling pet names and sweet encouragements about how good you'd already made him feel. Between his saccharine words and the pressure between your legs, you were done for.
Your breathing quickened all too soon but wasn't as shaky and uneven as before. Your skin burned with want. Your legs spread far as they could. He placed a loving hand against your temple, and you gripped his wrist as he began to move his hips in a sinfully slow manner.
The press of his lips to your throat was made more intimate by the grazing of his teeth there too. The speed at which he rocked into you began to increase, your heart rate following suit. everything felt better than you could've even fathomed. You were glad you did this with someone you knew and trusted. Someone whose hands were familiar to at least some parts of your own body and whose voice was welcomed in your ear. So glad you were doing this with someone you'd let do it all over again. So glad you're doing this with Jacob.
"You're doing so good, so good, nothing to be nervous about." The last word of his sentence was abruptly cut off by a growl the man couldn't seem to hold back.
Jacob was relentless now, pulling your hips against his as he rocked so hard against you, the bed frame kept hitting the wall. You couldn't imagine feeling much better than this, but then he asked if you were close to reaching your breaking point. You realized you'd never known before, and you really weren't sure now. "I don't know." You admitted with a twinge of worry. "It feels so good, Jacob, but I-I don't know." A sigh escaped your lips as he hit a certain spot within you. He grumbled encouragement in your ear, saying it was okay that you didn't know, and kept up his efforts.
"But I can't hold back much longer, I'm sorry." Jacob cried, his movements becoming sloppy, still heavenly though. It was your turn to encourage him, and let him know it was okay to come undone. Jacob was a goner soon after your brief pep talk, pulling himself from you as his seed spilled across your stomach. As Jacob caught his breath, he promised to go hunting for a towel to clean you up as you propped yourself on your elbows.
"Is it disappointing that I didn't come?" You worried, sitting up a little, catching your own breath. Jacob smirked, and petted back your hair, settling a little closer to you.
"I'm just glad you didn't fake it. Sometimes it just takes practice to know how to make it happen... to find out what you like, ya know?"
"Yeah, I s'pose." You contemplated, a bit cross that it hadn't happened, because it was half the reason you were eager to get this first time sorted out, so you could know how to handle yourself. Jacob had spotted a towel a few steps from your bedside, and was quick to retrieve it. And as he sweetly took to cleaning up the mess he'd made about you, he spoke up.
"You know, I never said our little educational experiment was over..." Jacob was smug, but turned up a brow to nod seriously your way and in a moment that made your cheeks flush even still after everything that had just occurred.
"Would... would you?"
Jacob said nothing. He simply dove back in to kiss you again, with more passion than ever, you thought. The man pressed you to lean against the pillows once again, as his fingers danced lower and lower down your abdomen.
"You seemed to like when I did this." Jacob cooed, letting his fingers ghost over your heat for the second time that evening, grazing a certain spot you'd once helped him find. You sucked in a breath at the feeling, giving Jacob the green light to proceed with more vigor. He pressed his fingers against you with more certainty, swirling more meaningful circles in that one spot. Jacob watched as you bit your lips together, struggling to keep an undignified moan from bursting from your chest.
"Think I must be doing something right." You friend boasted, keeping up the motions he'd settled into perfectly making. All the while, he moved to kiss you. His mouth, you were certain, must've left marks peppered across you skin as his lips moved from your neck to your throat, to your breasts and down further and further and further.
Once his lips ghosted across your core, you knew you were done for. The man let his tongue replace his fingers, as his digits moved to slide inside of you. His hair tickled your thighs, and every sensation added up together was nearly too much to process.
You thought Jacob's hands were magical, his lips and tongue were mind blowing. His warm breath, his teeth grazing, it was all more intense than you'd though it could've been. Your back arched, your hips rolled, and Jacob shouldered closer, putting as much vigor into this process as he could manage. Now, you suddenly seemed to understand the answer to his previous statement. You were close, now. You had to be. Your every sense buzzed and all you felt was increasing ecstasy.
You couldn't begin to hold back your cries of pleasure now, as Jacob worked you into a frenzy. He kept up his efforts until your legs shook, and only when you nudged his head gently away from it's latch onto your lower half, did he cease.
"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I know the answer." Jacob grinned, crawling to lay at your side. You laid in a daze, wondering how someone could've gotten that reaction from you. Of course it was Jacob who had.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and for no good reason at all, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Exhausted giggles, that died down when a cough alerted you to how dry your throat had become from all the harsh breathing you'd done.
Jacob insisted on taking care of you, finding water for the pair of you to drink and escorting you to the shower. You pulled him in with you, and talked about silly things as you washed up, comfortable as before in your friendship.
"Hey, thank you. I really was so scared to go through all that. But you made it easy. You made it fun." You confessed, as Jacob wrapped a towel around your frame. He ran his hands up and down your arms, warming you from the chill of the room.
"Thank you for trusting me. You'll never know how much of an honour it was, really." Jacob nodded sincerely, before pulling you into an embrace. He went home shortly afterward, promising to see you soon, and joking that he'd more than happily help you practice again, anytime. You laughed along with him, and secretly hopped he wasn't joking.
///
After he left, sleeping with Jacob constantly played back in your mind. The phantom feeling of his body lingered about your skin. You thought of little else than your dear friend, as you moved through the motions of the next day. So, to remedy your fever for the lad, you called him and asked about meeting up for dinner. He responded quickly insisting he'd love to, and that he would swing by your place a little later on. Time dragged on as you counted the minutes until he arrived.
When the knock came at your door, you opened it with perhaps too much excitement. Neither of you said anything, and a brief moment of silence filled the space between you.
"It's still a little early for dinner." You schemed. Jacob quirked a brow, stepping in as you stepped back to make room for him. He shut the door behind himself, as you crossed your fingers behind your back... "Maybe... to kill time, we could do what we did the other night?" You hoped, casting a hopeful glare up to the man before you. And before you even finished your sentence, he reached out to pull you closer, crashing his lips against yours once you'd finished talking.
It wasn't long until he had you lifted from the ground in his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso as he moved to throw you on the sofa.
"You do have a lot still to learn." Jacob smirked, untying the joggers that hugged your hips.
"But we are eating later." You demanded, craving a certain local restaurant.
"Well, I'm not waiting till later." Jacob growled, smiling as he lowered himself between your legs right away. The night spiraled into a mess of moans that were familiar to you now. When the pair of you were spent, you cleaned up and went to dinner, and then parted your separate ways.
After that night, there were four days until you were set to move away. And Jacob showed up at your door every evening with a different excuse each time.
He'd wanted to see the newest horror film in the local theater. You left halfway through to fuck in your car. Jacob mentioned that practice made perfect, and he was more than happy to help you hone this craft. You'd wanted to throw a party with all your friends before summer sent you each different way's. A whole soiree was planned in which you and Jacob skipped out early on; because the broom closet you'd snuck into wasn't giving either of you enough space to work with, and you'd both concluded this may be the last chance you got to really participate in your new found hobby.
But the next day, he found his way over all the while. And neither of you had to ask. It was only a matter of time before he had you pinned against the bathroom counter, and you'd never been happier. Just as you began reaching your climax, Jacob spoke up between sighs, "I don't want you to leave."
"Then come with me."
"What?"
"Come with me." You manage to get out the words before losing all composure. He followed close behind. But you both knew finding release together wasn't what you meant when you asked him to come along.
As you both caught your breath, Jacob brushed your hair back, and let his eyes consider all of your features. As he took too long to respond, you decided to draw a bath, and invited him to settle among the bubbles with you, where you brought up your question one more time.
"We've had lot's of practice, you know." You settled across from the man you'd come to know better than you ever expected. "Maybe we can go pro. Make it official?" You watched Jacob watch you, as you spoke.
"Was this your plan the whole time? You're twisted way of getting me to fall for you?"
"No, I genuinely just wanted your help that one night. Then it turned into many many nights. And now I don't want to ever have to worry about practicing with anyone but you."
And so after a few more rounds of questions of answers, it was decided. Jacob would follow you to a new town to live a new life. But with your oldest friend at your side and under shared sheets, you weren't so nervous about all the new things you would get to encounter, together.
───※ ·❆· ※───
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cutecatlov3r · 9 months
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my character ai bots:
jjk:
gojo satoru:
his eyes r funny looking- now, you were laughing your ass off due to the fact that he took off his blindfold during a mission with a curse. you couldn’t help but laugh because he looked so stupidly serious.
wardrobe malfunction- as you walked out he stifled a laugh. “what the hell are ya wearin’?”
he’s annoying- he is so annoying. even in highschool he was unbearable to be around. you hated his annoying ass. but he loved being around you.
vampire au- “oh? the little princess is out of her kingdom? wanted to see me huh?” he teased, looking at her as she hangs upside down.
can’t get enough of him- you and gojo have been on and off since highschool. it’s like everytime you both break up you both just can’t get enough of each other…
your affair- even if you were married he still didn’t care. his feelings for you are deep. he loves you. no matter how many times you tell him you have to stop the little affair going on between you two, he simply doesn’t care
geto suguru:
dad’s best friend- “gonna be quiet like a good girl? or show your dad that you’re just a very bad girl?” he whispered in your ear. his voice deep and quiet, sending chills down your spine.
nanami kento:
healing ur daddy issues- “how’s my baby girl doing today hm?” he pat his lap, gently. “come here, sit.”
yu haibara:
he’s gone- “i’ll be back! don’t miss me too much!” he cheekily smiled. that damn smile… that would be the last time you’d ever see it again.
he’s sick- he coughs and pouts as he lays in his dorm room bed. he was squirming around, sweating and throwing his covers off him. he was currently sick, he was missing a mission that he wanted to go on so badly
he admires you- you disliked him because he followed you around like a lost puppy… he admired you, an upperclassman.
yuji itadori:
he’s delulu- meeting Itadori you didn’t expect him to be so clingy and so sweet to you. little did you know he has a huge crush on you, he is a bit obsessive but he doesn’t let you know that.
your parents hate him- the thing about him is that he is sometimes a bit dumb? he just doesn’t seem like a professional person so when your parents met him, they didn’t like him at all. but that never stopped you from loving him or the other way around
dorky best friend- currently though the two of you were on a mission, sharing a hotel room. he was in a white robe, swirling a glass of wine being dramatic. it was his first time wearing a robe and he wanted to be fancy, be in the moment like a dork.
shibuya arc- “im nothing but a murderer! i can’t forgive myself!” he cried. you stood there looking down at him. sukuna only took over his body for a minute and a lot things happened.
best boyfriend- currently, he was resting between your thighs as you both watch a movie, he used his arms to squish himself against his face some more. “i wouldn’t mind dying from suffocation if it’s with these”
gossiping w him- “HUH?! i need to hear about this, spill everything.” he said in a dramatic tone, joking.
captain of the football team-“hey, you comin’ to my game tonight? last one of the season, I need my lucky charm there to cheer for me.” he giggled, turning you around to face him, your back pressed against your locker.
older brother’s best friend- you were drunk off your ass at some party. yuji spotted you and immediately got on his feet to help you as you stumbled around. “are you okay? megumi is gonna kill you… I’ll get you home”
your his mentor- haibara and yuji had so many similarities. it hurt you to just look at yuji’s smile, being reminded of haibara who died back in your teenage years
he’s in love w you but you already have a boyfriend- yuji is no homewrecker but… currently you’ve stumbled on top of him while training him… he can’t help but think about how Yuta doesn’t deserve you. how Yuta is connected to the woman you used to be.
megumi fushiguro:
step brother- “tch. what the hell are you looking at?” he asked, scaring a guy that had his eyes on you.
yuta okkotsu:
he chose geto’s side- the day he met Geto he was nervous. Geto explained why he wants to kill everyone who isn’t a sorcerer. at the time he declined the offer to join him but later on he rethought his decision. he thought about his past. he left with Geto.
he likes when you hurt him- the two of you brawled for a bit, ending up with your knee on his back, pinning him down. one hand gripping his hair, the other hand pinning down his hand.
your a fan- gojo-sensei took you with him to greet the sorcerer that you’ve heard so much about. he was coming back from training abroad in Africa. you were excited.
helping the newbie- “hey not to be rude but do you not like me…? i feel the tension between us…” he mumbled, frowning slightly.
your other half- right now you both were walking together. he had something important to tell you, he was gonna be training in Africa in a few weeks. gojo-sensei told him he should tell you but he’s just been nervous
inumaki toge:
hajime kashimo:
noritoshi kamo:
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guys I will be adding more soon, please leave some suggestions tho ! <3
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ch4nb4ng · 9 months
Text
Marital Duties
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Pairing: Chan x afab!reader
Word count: 9.4k
Genre: Established relationship, married
Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise
Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.
Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs
Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.
Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so. 
The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger. 
Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.
That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.
The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.
These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.
“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”
Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd  grow up to be a beautiful woman.
“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”
“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”
“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”
Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.
“Let me call you back at 15.”
You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.
The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered. 
“Hey baby.”
“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.
“She was out like a light.”
“I’m glad.”
“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”
You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.
“Y/n, Y/n?”
You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.
“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”
“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”
“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”
“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display. 
“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”
A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest. 
Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.
“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”
“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”
Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then. 
But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.
“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”
“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”
“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”
Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.
“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”
“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh. 
***
The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.
A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:
[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.
*one attachment*
Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.
“Everything okay back there?”
“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”
“We are at the airport, miss?”
His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.
Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.
But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.
[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.
*one attachment*
Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.
**
It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.
The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.
Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision. 
“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”
The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed. 
“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”
“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”
The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything. 
“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”
“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”
Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.
“You okay babe?”
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”
“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”
“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”
He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child. 
“I got your text message this morning.”
Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of. 
“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”
He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth. 
“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”
“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”
Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child. 
It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.
When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.
“Babe, what has gotten into you?”
Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded. 
“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”
A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more. 
“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.” 
“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?” 
Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly. 
The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.
Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.
“Chan.”
“Y/n.”
“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.
“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”
“And keep it that way.”
“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.
“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.
“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”
Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.
“You’re not happy to be home?”
“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.
A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:
Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!
I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents. 
We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.
I'll see you when I’m looking at you.
Dad
“Chan!”
Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself. 
“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”
Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble. 
You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one. 
“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”
“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.
“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”
“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”
“You weren’t?”
“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”
Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.
“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”
There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples. 
“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers. 
Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific. 
In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice. 
“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”
“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”
“What was that?”
He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.
“You taste so good.”
He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.
“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”
His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.
“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed. 
“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”
Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”
“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”
It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal. 
Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.
“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”
“You like that?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”
“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”
God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.
“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.
“Yeah baby?”
“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.” 
Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen. 
“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”
“Really?”
His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”
“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”
“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”
Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge. 
“Chan?”
“Y/n, you okay baby?”
“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”
“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”
“Yeah?”
“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”
“Mhm, all yours.”
Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”
“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”
“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”
“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”
Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.
“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”
He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.
“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”
“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”
You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.
“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”
“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”
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songsofadelaide · 6 months
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cw/tw: sickfic, fluff, reader has she/her pronouns, gojo being a little silly. wc: 666
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"She's down with a fever, so don't get any ideas, Gojo."
"Wh— You talk as if I'm going to do something nefarious to her, Shoko!"
"Nefarious, no, but idiotic, probably. Do all of us a favour and steer clear of her in the meantime. We don't want others catching this bug."
They say fever dreams are usually unpleasant, but why was this some kind of replay of one of your favourite high school memories instead? Favourite except for the fact that you were sick. 
"Y'know I've never really actually gotten sick before because of my infinity and all…"
A cool hand is pressed to your burning forehead, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you come into contact with it. 
"Yikes, she's actually burning up!" 
"That's why I told you to stay away. If you or anyone else catches this, I am going to lock you all in the morgue for all I care."
"You'd do that to her?!"
"Not her, of course!"
Getting sick is probably one of the worst things that could ever happen to you. Some days, you can't seem to sweep your condition under the rug, no matter how hard you try to be normal about it. A cold was starkly different from being cursed and it was such a normal thing that Shoko had no other choice but to treat it normally— by telling you to drink your meds and get some rest. 
Nanami said he'd handle your pending mission, so rest you did. 
There was nothing at all restful about having to stay on campus, though, with Shoko saying she could keep a better eye on your condition there. You felt like the walls and the halls already knew so much. The happiness of your youth, the sadness and anguish of having friends perish before your very eyes, and the bittersweetness of your first love. 
"Pain, pain, go away…"
Your first love that seemed to stalk the halls of the magic college, for some reason. 
"Come again another day…"
The humming sounded far too real now to be a dream, even more so when the same cool touch was pressed to your forehead again. "Ah…"
"It's okay, you can sleep some more."
In fear you may be in delirium, you opened your eyes and found Satoru seated right by your bedside, a wet towel and a basin of water right next to him. "Satoru?…"
"Sorry. Did I wake ya?" He asked, though you couldn't get a read on his expression with that ridiculous blindfold over his eyes. "Heard from Shoko that you were sick, so…"
"Didn't she tell you not to come over?" You said with a sigh. 
"No need to be so worried about me. I've never really actually gotten sick before because of my infinity."
"I know, I know. You've always been too invincible."
He brushed his cold knuckles over your forehead once more, finally drawing out a tired smile from you. "Do you want me to grab you some ice water or something?"
"No, I'm good…" You told him, gently holding him back from moving away from you. When he realised what you meant, he placed his hand over your forehead again. "You're like a popsicle."
It was his turn to chuckle this time. "Ramune flavour?"
"Exactly."
Satoru slightly moved to reach for your hand, clammy as it was, his cold fingers curling around your warmer ones, and somehow, you can't really tell if all of this is real. 
"Satoru…"
"Yeah, sweets?"
"Can you pinch my hand or something? I feel like I'm in high school again and I'm dreaming all of this up. After all, I like you so much that I might even be hallucinating."
He squeezed your hand with just enough force as if asking, is it real enough yet?
"…Real," you sighed and nodded to yourself. "Sorry…"
"Whatever are you apologising for?" He grinned at you. "You think I don't like hearing about how much you like me, even from before?"
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kachowder · 10 months
Text
The Farmer (prologue)
The smell of mold was thick, and permeated the room you had so dreadfully woken up in.
The back of your head ached in dull pain, that wouldn’t allow you to remember it’s origins. Your chest was heavy as if the wind had left you and your lungs had been squeezed empty.
Your skin felt greasy and stiff. You wanted to shower. You needed to shower. But you couldn’t move. You didn’t know where you were. Was there even a bathroom to shower in?
The rotting wood and rusted windows made it seem unlikely. Though you could hear the buzzing of flies and croaks of frogs from behind the wall. Most likely, wherever you were, was next to some kind of lake or pond.
The itch of your skin was making you want to jump in, regardless of what might be lurking inside.
When the door creaked open, it’s hinges scratching against each other unpleasantly, you only found the ability to glance up from where you head had slumped against your shoulder.
Dark, sunken eyes that looked ill fitting, like the skin sagged over a face that wasn’t meant to be there. Scratchy stubble littered his chin. Greasy, unkempt hair that looked to be self maintained, if the jagged edges weren’t telling enough.
His clothes looked like they needed a few washes. And the smell that followed him was…mostly unpleasant. Like stale water and must. Not the most offensive smell, but it made your nose scrunch just for a moment.
The man, who you could guess was a farmer of some kind, stepped forward into the room, nearing the faint light the spilled in from the filthy window panes. Just enough, to where you could see the odd grey hue of his skin.
“mornin’…”
Your shoulders scrunched involuntarily, folding the skin of your back as your ears took in his voice.
Deep, monotone and a bit gruff. Like the voice of a man who never slept a day in his life. But it echoed. Like two voices speaking as one, and it rang in your ear like a quiet siren.
You supposed your lack of response made this man uncomfortable, as his eyes darted to the side for a moment, and he stepped forward. Closer.
It was now you noticed the plate of food in his large, calloused hands. It was now, as he sat down beside you, that you noticed the stiff bed you had woken up on. It was now, as the memories flooded through, that you realized the predicament you were in.
Your car was busted. Your friends were missing. You, were stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the company of a stranger who offered to help you.
and a voice in the back of your mind told you, that you were being chased.
The shift of the bed and squeaking of old springs led your eyes back to the face of the farmer infront of you, who looked just as lost in thought as you were.
He mumbled incoherently to himself, brows narrowing as if he was in the midst of an argument. Fingers fiddled and curled around the saggy fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, it seemed as if this episode had ended.
Before he looked up at you. And suddenly his brows furrowed deeper and his lips set into a deep frown.
“Your car…’s not gonna start anytime soon. You might be stuck here…’a while.”
Your chapped lips pursed, uncomfortably. “Can’t you call some repair men?”
He mimicked you, glancing away almost guiltily. “Ain’t no-body around here for miles. No land lines neither.”
Of course there wasn’t. You seemed to remember having lost connection of your phone sometime before your car broke down.
“…what about my friends? I gotta find them.”
“If they passed through here…I don’t think you’ll have much luck…”
What a comforting response. The farmer acknowledged your glare with an embarrassed clearing of his throat. “I’ll…take care of ya’ till you can get back on the road…”
“I can take care of myself just fine.”
The way he looked at you made you sick. Like dread had been poured down your throat and was slowly filling you the brim. His gaze was intense and foreboding, warning you that you did not know what you were up against.
“It ain’t just the animals out there you gotta worry about…it’s best of you to stay here. At least for a while.”
And how long is a while?
-1-
You learned very quickly, that a while was more than three days. And you learned even quicker, that sometimes it was better to not ask questions.
That was one of the rules here.
1. Don’t go out at night
2. Don’t open the shed
3. Don’t ask questions.
That last rule kept you sane.
Don’t ask why you couldn’t go out at night. Don’t ask why you can’t go in the shed.
Don’t ask why the farmer talks to himself. Don’t ask why his bedroom is never used.
Don’t ask why the cattle go stalk still when he’s nearby. Don’t ask why the crickets stop singing and frogs stop croaking when he’s outside.
Don’t ask about the smell. Don’t ask about the lumps in the ground.
Don’t ask why your neck is wet and sticky every morning. Don’t ask about your car. Don’t ask about your friends.
Don’t ask how long you’ll be stuck here.
Live ignorant while you’re here. Don’t think. It’s safer, to stop thinking. You’ll lose yourself if you think too much.
Those weren’t your words. You weren’t sure who’s they were. But they worked. They were comforting.
So you didn’t think. You no longer wondered where your friends were. You no longer wondered how long you’d be stuck here, or how long it’d take to fix your car.
The farmer took care of you. He said he would, and he did. You ate well, you slept okay and you smelled better then you had when you first woke up.
You paid little mind to the lingering touches or intense stares.
Or the moments you swore you heard something growl when you passed by.
Nothing was perfect. But it was safe.
Because you followed the rules.
Until you didn’t.
The mistake of needing the toilet late at night. The mistake of leaving the farmhouse into the pitch dark land around you. The mistake of opening the shed, thinking that it had been the outhouse you were looking for.
The mistake of asking questions, when a dark mass of oil and flesh stared back at you.
“What the fuck is that?”
You didn’t feel so safe anymore.
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samandcolbyownme · 5 months
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Summary: anon request: "Solby x reader, yn is modeling for them in their merch in their bedroom and it turns sexyyyy"
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, flirting, teasing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, choking, unprotected threesome, oral (f rec), facial, fingering, filth
Word count: 3.7k | not edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"Hey." You say as you walk into Sam's room, "Whatcha doin'?" Sam turns from his computer and shakes his head, "Nothing. Just making sure everything is in order for the next merch drop, what's up?"
"I have a coffee date with Georgia later and I was wondering if you had maybe an XPLR shirt that I don't have that I can wear?"
He motions to his closet, "Go for it." He watches as you open the door, sliding the hangers over the rack as you inspect each item of clothing.
"Hey, y/n." Sam says and you look over at him, "I have the new merch out in my car, Colby and I wore it for our shoot, but I can go get it if you want to look through that?"
You nod, "That would be great, Sam. Yeah. If you want to." He nods and gets up, walking out to go get it and you hear Colby coming down the hallway, "Hey Sam, what should I d-" Colby walk in and stops talking as he sees you, "y/n? What are you doing here?"
"Sam went out to his car quick and I came to steal one of his shirts." You look back at him, smirking slightly as you see his eyes shoot up to yours, "He'll be back, in like a minute or so."
"Mm. I see." Colby laughs and walks over to the desk and sits down, totally forgetting what he came to ask Sam about.
You've been friends with Sam and Colby for ever now. Practically your whole life. But ever since you moved in with them, there's been some.. tension.
Sexual tension.
You thought you were just crazy, or that they’d think you were, because you liked, no.. loved that you were the girl who lived with them. Got their constant  attention. You were in a position so many girls would absolutely kill for.
And the more you thought about it, the more you really didn't want them seeing anyone else - but you.
You felt kind of selfish for it, and bad because you noticed that you'd catch an attitude or stay in your room pouting if either one of them brought up another girl, even if it was just for an investigation and nothing else.
You honestly didn't think they'd go for a thruple ordeal, so you just kept it to yourself. You don't even know how you'd bring something like that up.
It made you nervous to think about, so you tried shoving your silly feelings down. Covering them up with jokes and telling them that you had something to work on, even when you didn't.
But as the days went on and you grew to be more comfortable with them. The thought of being with both of them actually drove you insane to the point you wanted to just throw yourself at one of them and hope the other got jealous enough to just join in.
You laugh at your thoughts, sighing to yourself. It must have been a little too loud because it catches Colby's attention, "What's so funny over there?" He spins the chair and brings one leg up to rest on his other knee, "Care to share?"
You look over at him, biting down on your bottom lip as you shake your head, "I just.. thought of something funny I seen on TikTok."
"Did ya?" Colby chuckles, eyes moving up and down your body.
As much as you wanted to just confess your feelings for both of them, you told yourself that you'd wait until they gave you a signal that was more clear, wasn't mixed.
"Yeah." You clear your throat, "I did."
"Alright." Sam walks in, clothing draped over his arms and shoulders, "Here we are."
You turn and watch Sam as he lays each item out on the bed from the pile he made from throwing them down.
You walk over, "Okay.” You pick up a t shirt and look over it, "That's a pretty sick design. I like this a lot."
"That's my favorite, too." Sam says, "What are you doing in here?" He looks at Colby and Colby shrugs, "I came in to ask you something but now I can't remember."
Sam laughs and sits down on the bed, watching you as you go through the clothes, "There's so many good ones." You look up, "You guys did good."
They smile, "Thank you. We're proud of it." Colby says with a nod. He looks over at Sam and they exchange a look while you continue holding each thing up.
"Why don't you.. um.." Colby clears his throat, "Why don't you try them on." He shrugs, and there’s your sign.
Clear as day.
You look up, "All of it?"
He nods and Sam steps in, "Yeah. Why not. We can see what looks the best on you." You chew on your lip to try and hide your smile, "Alright."
You slip your plain blue sweatshirt off, leaving you in your sports bra and shorts, which is nothing new, they've seen you in one a thousand times.
Sam tilts his head slightly, in awe of you like usual.
Colby tries to subtly adjust his sitting position, laying a hand over his lips as he watches you put on the first shirt, "Oh this is comfy." You look up and they quickly try to act like they weren't just staring you down.
But you could feel it.
"It is. They're so soft." Sam nods, "That looks good on you."
"Really?" You smile slightly and look down at it. Colby sighs, "She might take our job at modeling our own clothes."
You laugh, rolling your eyes, "Yeah, I'm sure."
"Those sweatpants are super comfy, too." Colby adds quickly, "They are my favorite thing out of this line." You look down at them, running your fingers over the soft pants, "I'll see for myself."
You knew what you were doing, and you knew what they were doing.
And vice versa.
As you slip your shorts down and step out of them, you turn to grab the sweats off the bed, “You know, if you take a picture it’ll last longer.”
You look up and you can see them smirking, “busted.” Colby mumbles lowly to Sam and Sam laughs, “Yeaahhh.”
As you’re putting on the sweats, adjusting them to how you like them, you see a flash out of the corner of your eye and the whirring sound of the Polaroid camera.
You look over at them, smirking as you roll your eyes, “Really?”
“Hey. You said take a picture, so.. you can’t really blame us.” Colby smiles and you bite your lip, “Uh huh.” You turn, modeling the pants and shirt for them, “I mean they don’t match but..”
“Mm. I think it looks great.” Sam rubs his chin with his fingers, “Do a little spin for us.”
You laugh slightly and smile as you slowly spin around, listening to them cheer you on.
“Alright, I think I’ll try on the sweatshirt now.” You slip the shirt up over your head, tossing it at Colby and he catches it.
“thanks. I like this shirt.” He smirks and you laugh as you flip the sweatshirt to put it on. You fix the hood and situate it on your body, “Well?”
They look at each other and you smirk, “Wait.” They look at you, watching as you kick off the sweatpants, “Okay..” you pull the sweatshirt down just to barely cover your ass, “How does this look?”
Sam blinks a few times, eyes moving down to your bare legs.
Colby stares at you, mouth parted slightly and he sighs, “Yeah, I say that also look good on you.”
Sam smirks, “I think we need to see a full three-sixty.” You squint your eyes, “I know what you’re doing.” He tilts his head, “Do you?”
Did you?
“Mhm.” You go with it as you spin around, “at least I think I do.” You spin around to face them, “You just wanna see my butt.”
“Wanna see a lot more than that.” Colby mumbles and Sam nudges him. You look at Colby, unsure of what he said, “Huh?”
“Nothing.” Sam says quickly, “Here.” He leans forward, grabbing one of the other t-shirts, “Try this one on. That’s Colby’s favorite.”
You glance at Colby and he nods, “Oh yeah.”
You slide the sweatshirt off, tossing it at Sam and he laughs, “Didn’t think we’d get a strip tease out of this, but hey. Who’s complaining?”
“Not me.” Colby holds up his hands and you laugh, “Yeah, because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
You were. You were totally trying to get under their skin, or under them. Something of that sort.
You slip on the shirt, letting it lay just at the band of your underwear, “Well, Colby. Since this is your favorite.. how’s it look?”
His eyes rake up and down your body, “I love it on you.” He nods, “Definitely my favorite one.”
You smile, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you bend over slightly to look through the other ones, “Oh this one is cute, too.” You hold up the shirt and nod, “I think this is the one I’ll be wearing.”
“Whatever one you want.” Sam bites his lip, leaning back on his arm. You lay the shirt down to strip from the other shirt you’re wearing, “This one is soft, too. I like this.”
You walk over to the mirror, modeling for yourself - and for the boys.
“Yeah that’s it.. Work it, baby.” Sam’s words catch you off guard and you spin around to look at him, “what?”
Sam smirks, laughing slightly as he looks at Colby, “Think the cat’s out of the bag, huh?” Colby nods, “Yeah, I think it is.”
Your heart starts to race as Sam gets up, walking over to you, “You don’t think we know about how you feel?”
“How do I feel?” You swallow as his fingers brush against your neck as he moves hair from it, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
He stands behind you, slowly lifting the shirt from your body, “The looks you give us.” His lips on your neck feel like fire, “The way you throw little temper tantrums when it’s not just you.”
Colby gets up, walking over to stand in front of you, “Saying you have stuff to do when you really pout because we’re not giving you any attention?”
You look up at him and he smirks, “We know you better than anyone, darling.” He gently rests his fingers under your chin, “We know exactly what you want. And you want to know why?”
You nod, “Why?”
“Because we want you, too, baby.” Sam whispers in your ear, gently nipping at your lobe, “We’ve wanted you for a while.” He chuckles, “I’m not surprised that you modeling our clothes for us worked.”
“We knew it would get us right where we all wanted to be.” Colby’s hands slide down to your hips, his one hand moving over to slip into the band of your - very wet - panties.
You gasp, leaning back into Sam as Colby’s fingers put just the right amount of pressure on your aching clit, “from the moment you moved in. Strutting around in those little pajama shorts..” Colby leans in to kiss your neck, causing your moans to grow a little bit louder.
Sam groans, “Fuck. Those shorts, baby.” He sighs, “Can’t get enough of seeing your ass peak out every time you reaches for something on the top shelf in the kitchen.”
“You tease us. In every way possible.” Colby lean back, slipping his fingers down to feel the wetness that’s pooling between your folds, “We’ve just finally had enough of not doing anything about it.”
You gasp, moaning out as Colby hooks his fingers inside of you, “So fuckin’ wet.”
Sam kisses down your neck and back up, “We just didn’t know how to go about it but finally we just said fuck it and now we’re finally getting what we’ve talking about for months.”
You spread your legs more, eyes rolling back as you tangle a hand in their hair, “F-fuck.”
“That feel good?” Colby asks brushing his lips against yours. You nod, “Y-yes.” Colby’s lips plant on yours and you moan into his mouth.
“That’s it. Those are the pretty sounds we wanna hear.” Sam whispers and sucks a spot on your neck, “Let’s hear more.” His arm snakes around your waist, slipping in to rub your clit as Colby scissors his fingers in and out of you.
“Y-yes. Yes.” You tug on Sam’s hair, moaning louder as Colby moves his head down to kiss over your collar bone and up your neck.
“Let’s take her to the bed.” Sam nods towards the bed and they both take their hand away from you, leaving you whimpering at the loss of their touch.
Colby steps back, placing his hands on your hips to guide you towards the bed. He has you sit down and he stands between your knees as Sam moves to sit behind you, pulling you back to lean against his chest.
Your lip is held in a soft grip of your teeth as you watch Colby drop to his knees, “Lift your hips for me, baby.” You comply, rising up just enough for him to pull your underwear off your body.
“You can relax now, baby. Let us show you how good we can make you feel.” Colby rubs your thighs and Sam leans down, whispering into your ear, “do you want that?”
You nod, “For so long.”
“Glad you’re on the same page.” Colby pushes your knees apart, placing his thumbs on either side of your pussy and spreads you open before he dives in with his tongue.
You gasp as he moans against you, your hand shoots down to lay on the back of his head, “Fuck, oh my god. Fuck.” Your back arches against Sam’s chest and he wraps an arm around you, turning your head with his free hand so he can kiss you.
He swallows your moans that are caused by Colby’s tongue pushing in and out of you.
“F-fuck.” You reach up, tangling your fingers in Sam’s hair. He groans lowly as you pull, “Feel good?”
“So good.” You breathe out, “So fucking good.” You let out a whine, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for him, baby. Then you’re going to cum for me.” Sam presses his lips to yours, slowly moving his with yours. Colby’s hands move to grip your thighs, pushing them further apart as he moves to suck your clit.
“S-shit.” You feel your body tense up slightly as your first orgasm approaches fast. Your eyes roll back and your head tilts, “F-fuck yes. Yes.”
“Let it all out baby. Tell us how good he makes you feel.” Sam whispers, nudging your cheek with his nose, “You sound so pretty.”
You roll your hips slightly, riding the high before Colby leans back, “Why’d we wait so fucking long for this?”
Sam chuckles, playing with the front zipper of your bra, “No idea. But I’m glad we’re done waiting.” He pulls the zipper down, your boobs popping out once the zipper is apart. Sam pulls the fabric down your arms and throws it on the floor, “My turn.”
He moves from out behind you, letting you lay back on the bed.
Your eyes follow Sam as he moves in between your legs, kissing from your knees to your hips. He licks his lips before dipping his head down, licking up your wet cunt before his tongue pushes in.
Your back arches off the bed, hands gripping the sheets tightly, “Oh fuck.” You let out a loud moan, whimpering as his thumb rubs circles.
Colby lays next to you, now shirtless, “You’re so fucking-“ he groans as he crashes his lips onto hours, hand sliding up to lay perfectly around your neck.
Sam slings your leg over his shoulder, getting as close to you as he can. He groans against you, switching places with his hand and mouth.
He slips two fingers inside of you, slipping them in and out as his lips wrap around your clit.
“Fuck.” You gasp out, throwing your head back onto the bed. Colby’s hand is still around your throat, squeezing slowly as he watching your face scrunch and twist with pleasure, “Come on, baby. Cum for him.” Colby whispers lowly, “I know you want to.”
You nod quickly, “Y-yes.”
A few seconds later, you feel that second orgasm rolling into station.
Colby’s hand moves from your throat to your boobs, going back and forth as he pinches and pulls at your nipples. His head dips down to nip and suck at your neck.
Your body twist slightly as your orgasm takes over. The heel of your foot presses into the middle of Sam’s back, and you become a moaning mess for them.
Sam slowly pulls away, breathing quickly as he crawls up your body. He brushes hair from your face and stares down at you, “You’re our girl.”
You blink a few times, trying to comprehend if you heard him correctly.
“He’s right. No one can take that place but you.” Colby leans down, kissing your cheek, “Our girl. Emphasis on the our.”
He chuckles and stands up, moving to take the rest of his clothes off. Sam leans down, kissing you before he stands up, too.
Colby takes the place on top of you and your lips part as you feel his cock rub against your pussy, “Please.” You beg quietly, “I-I need you.”
He chuckles and nods, “Oh baby, I need you too.” His brows furrow as he slips into you slowly, causing your eyes to roll back, “Shit.”
No one thought to grab condoms. It didn’t even cross your mind. The only thing on your mind was having them inside of you.
“Fuck you feel so fucking good.” Colby groans as he lays his hand next to your head, holding his body up as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.
Sam sits next to your head, playing with your boobs as Colby fucks you hard. You let out a loud moan, a scream at this point and your hands search for both of them.
Your hand wraps around Sam’s arm and your other hand digs your nails into Colby’s upper back, whimpering and moaning as you feel like you’re about to cum - again.
“F-fu- fuck!” You arch your back, clenching around his cock as your orgasm slams into you. Your legs cling tightly around Colby’s waist and your eyes stay locked on Sam as Colby sucks on your neck, right below your ear.
You felt overstimulated, but in the best way possible.
Colby’s thrust slow down and your legs fall onto the bed, “Shit.” You smile slightly and he leans down to kiss you as he pulls out.
“Roll over for me.” Sam says as he stands up to take off his pants and boxers. You roll over onto your stomach and Sam moves onto the bed to straddle your thighs.
His hands slide up to your ass, squeezing before he moves them to grip your hips. He lifts your hips up, just slightly, before rubbing his cock against your pussy.
You grip the sheets, waiting for Sam to be in you.
You rest your forehead on the bed, moaning into it as he slips his cock into your soaked pussy, “Oh fuck.”
Sam groans, resting for a moment before pulling out and sliding back in. The first couple thrusts were slow and teasing, but that quickly shifts into a punishing pace.
Colby kneels down on the floor beside the bed, reaching out to grab your chin, “Look at me baby.” You look at Colby, moaning out, “F-fuck.”
“That feels good doesn’t it?” Colby runs his thumb over your lips and you part them, tilting your head forward to take it between your lips. He watches as you suck, moaning around it as Sam brings you to your fourth orgasm of the day.
“So fucking pretty.” Colby pulls his lip between his teeth, pulling his thumb away, “Where do you want us to cum, darling?”
His wet thumb brushes over your cheek and you struggle to keep your eyes open as you cum around Sam’s cock, “I-I do-“
Your eyes roll back as Sam guides you through your high, causing your whole body to go numb from the pleasure.
His thrusts slow down and he pulls out, panting as he looks at Colby, “Cum on her face?”
You smile at the idea and Colby chuckles, “I think that’s a yes.”
You roll over, chest rising and falling rapidly, “Uh huh.”
“I’ve been wanting to cum since I seen you take your shorts off.” Colby chuckles and leans down to kiss you as Sam moves up by your head.
You whimper against his lips and he leans up, getting on his knee on the other side of your head. You lick your lips, leaning up slightly as you watch them both stroke their cocks, groaning as they stare down at you waiting for them to finish.
You close your eyes as Sam cums first, groaning as he watches his cum lay across your face.
Colby is super quick to follow, groaning as you stick your tongue out to catch his cum and to lick Sam’s off of your lips.
“Fuck, you are beyond gorgeous.” Colby breathes out and Sam sits down with a sigh, “Fuck that was amazing.” He rolls off the bed, standing up to go fetch a towel.
Colby stares at you and smirks as you look up at him, “What?” You question innocently. He shakes his head, looking back at Sam then back to you, “You’re just so fucking hot covered in our mess.”
You smile, closing your eyes as Sam wipes your face, and any other parts that need wiped.
“You might wanna call and cancel that coffee date with Georgia.” Sam chuckles as he tucks hair behind your ear.
You nod, “Yeah, I was thinking that, too.”
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
I know this was long awaited but I hope it’s up to par!
Thanks for reading!
Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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angelltheninth · 3 months
Text
Striker Fucks You Instead of Killing You
Pairing: Striker x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, assassin work, rough sex, degradation, tied up, slight knife play
A/N: Now that he went from cool badass to absolute unhinged loser I kinda like him more.
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You were a very high paying job for him, a high profile target
If he could complete this he can break his terrible streak of failed kills he's been on lately
And really, Striker needed a win
But when he broke into your bedroom he didn't see a target that he needed to kill, he saw a perfect chance to fuck
Which is something he hasn't done in a bit, with him being more focused on making money so he could buy more angel weapons
He won't need those with you but a bit of rope won't hurt, too much
"Listen here sweet cheeks, you stay quiet and don't make a sound and we can make this go fast and easy." He spun his knife in his hand, the other pressing against your shoulder. "Give me any trouble and this is about ta get real ugly for ya."
You'd heard of this assassin before, your own family had deals with him in the past. "Are you sure you want to kill me? You know we can pay you a lot more right?" You tried to smile through the fear but he saw right through you, laughing in your face and pushing his weight on you to stop you from struggling.
What was... oh... that is not a knife or a gun down there. Was he some kind of sick freak that got off on killing his targets? It wouldn't surprise you that there were people like that in Hell.
"I don't really have to kill ya. Just ruin you enough that your dumbass family backs away from making a deal with my employee's competitor. But ya know, there are other ways to ruin a pretty little thing like yourself."
You felt your body warm up when his hips moved against yours
Indeed fucking an assassin for hire would be a bad look for your family
That is if he told anyone about it
Always a chance you can buy his silence after you fuck
Whatever his price you knw you can afford him, you're not royalty but your family is pretty well off
Striker spread your legs apart to make more room for his hips, "What's this here? Why so wet? Are ya a freak who gets horny from being threatened or some shit? Pervert." He didn't hesitate to rip your underwear to shreds with his claws, "Yeh, like I thought. A pervy little bitch."
"Oh please. You're flattering yourself way too much."
"Give me all the attitude ya want sweetheart. I'll fuck it right out of ya." Striker pushed his hard cock against opening, rubbing it up and down and gathering the wetness on his cock. You didn't even notice him pull it out of his pants. "Gonna make ya come harder then any demon ya've ever been with."
There was nothing gentle about the way he fucked you
Some of your other lovers went at least a bit easy on you out fear of putting bruises on you and getting caught up in your family's crosshairs
Not Sriker though, he fucked you like he hated you, probably because he did
His hand was over your mouth to silence the many high-pitched noises you made every time his hard cock slid back into you, his pace rough and almost abusing your pussyhole
Which was exactly what he seemed to want to do
"Making all kinds of pretty noises for me. I can tell ya ain't never gotten fucked raw like this. Your cunt is so responsive to me, fuck, I just might have to give it a creampie after all." His tail moved happily from side to side when he felt you tighten but saw your eyes go wide with fear. "What's the matter baby? Don't want to have some bastard imp's bastard kid? Aww, now that would really ruin ya."
You bit into his hand as hard as you could, letting him know exactly what you thought of that idea.
"Ouch! Ya little bitch, haha, ya got a lotta guts I'll admit that much. Fine. Maybe it'll be more fun if I ruin you slowly, over time." If a game of cat and mouse was what you wanted then he was more then willing to play it. More money in it for him at least. "I'm gonna come back here every time I'm done with a job. And ya better hope it goes well."
You couldn't stop your pussy from clenching around his cock, your head thrown back and releasing the loudest moan yet. Striker pulled out barely seconds from finishing, shooting his hot white cum all over your lower stomach. "Holy shit, ya really do get off on threats. This is gonna be so fun."
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sorrowfulmuse · 7 months
Note
Would you write a headcanon or even a blurb on mk1 Liu Kang having a crush on reader or falling in love with reader? I need more content with him so badd 😭 Please and thank you love ❤️
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♡ headcanon :: how liu kang fell in love with gn!reader and their traits
mentions/warnings: none! just stupid writing errors (will be edited later)
babe pls i've been WAITING for someone to request him!! sorry for any typos or anything, i'm waiting on my laptop for the first time since my phone sucks with having music in the background while i write on here but here you go! hope you enjoy!! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN YALL! & pls reblog thank you! ☺️💓
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liu kang would be conflicted in my opinion, its a new world.. a new era and he is a god compare to you being in his earth realm defense, but nonetheless it did not wary the feelings he had for you.
what was the traits that he favored from you? well, you did easily best kung lao in one of his bets! (lowkey so did the rest favored you cause it shut up kung lao for a bit!)
but mainly, you were ambitious for earth realm's victory when titan!shang tsung had declared war on this timeline.
you had confidence in him despite being told your past lives in different timelines from geras, he had asked why and was met with a answer that tugged at heart in the most blossoming way. "the fates will always find a way and i'm most thankful for this one as i get to be by your side."
was this a confession reader??? 🤓
you would laugh at his jokes even though no one else would get them, (you didn't really find his jokes humorous but you adored enough him enough to put up with it.) he still appreciated it, even if it was the smallest thing from you
in trainings, missions and in other assortments.. being diligent was your main priority. making sure you and your comrades made it back all in one piece, sometimes plans weren't always followed through but you were clever enough to have a backup plan to ensure success.
liu kang would dote on you when both of you are alone, he'll compliment the way you did your hair, how your voice sounded when you sung (lets pretend you know how to sing LOL) this man was down bad i tell ya!!
at madam bo's everything you ate/drink was paid by him, he even would ask madam bo to make you off menu dinings
this made everyone jealous because you were receiving royal treatment on which you would tease them for when his back was turned
"have you tried this tea before? it helps to smooth your throat if you have a cold" "eat this dish, the flavors of the soup can help with the sickness you're going through."
YES liu kang would be that type of person to take care of you even if you show the rarest signs of sickness!
but how did he meet you in this new era? you were trained in combat, martial arts and amongst other things which made you the second best behind raiden to being earth realms champion
although not being chosen not to represent in the tournament, you exceeded his expectations and was humbled enough to not let your pride get the best of you.
to end this, liu kang was in love with you simply because you believed in his vision and strength all those eras ago. you were you, you were his.. in every lifetime.
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darlingdekarios · 1 year
Text
good enough to eat.
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 2,116 content: Jax Teller x f!reader, established relationship, smut [receiving fingering, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [spit as lube, breeding]
when Jax is starving, there's no waiting.
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When your partner returned from a daytime ride you were busy with the final preparations of dinner, setting the table for yourselves and your parents who would be joining you for the first time. His boots against the hard wood signified he’d found you in the dining room setting the table before they paused, his large frame pausing to lean against the door frame and soak in the pretty little dress and red panty hose you’d worn today. 
“Call your parents and cancel,” he instructed, and if it were anyone else his demanding tone would have been enough to set you off. From Jax, however, it had only ever felt right to listen to him. Even still, this wasn’t exactly the kind of notice you gave when cancelling plans.  
“What?” You questioned, turning to face him with a puzzled look on your face. Jax nearly groaned at the sight of you in red lipstick. “Is something wrong? Did something happen while you were out?”
He walked toward you then, trapping you between the table and himself with hands grasping both of your hips to encourage you to sit on the surface. His blue eyes shining with something mischievous and hungry he shook his head, hands leaving you to rest on either side of your waist on the table. “Had a good ride, nothin’ went wrong,” he replied, eyes dragging down your body slowly. “I woulda come back sooner had I know this is what was waiting for me.”
Before you could interrogate him, he leaned down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, one of his knees knocking your legs apart so he could step between them. He always kissed you like a man on death row – you supposed he was in a way – and now was no exception, his tongue entering your mouth to kiss you deeply until you were breathless. Your parents were due on your front porch in an hour. Still, you couldn’t help your curiosity.
“If you knew what was waiting for you? Dinner? It's a special dinner, I told you what I was making,” you started as you gasped for normal breaths, his lips trailing a familiar route to your neck where he kissed over your pulse.
“Not the food, I don’t give a shit about that right now. I’m talking about you,” he breathed out, sucking softly on the most sensitive part of your neck, lips molding into a smile against your skin when you gasped. “You look so fucking pretty in this dress setting the dinner after cooking all day. Like a proper little housewife. Where’s Abel?”
“He…he went down for a nap a little bit ago,” you gasped out. It was almost shameful how fast you melted beneath him, how fast his soft lips and rough beard against your neck had you gripping his shoulders. “But my parents…”
“Don’t want to see what I’m about to do to you, sweetheart,” he cooed to silence your whine, his lips brushing lightly against the sensitive spot behind your ear. Even after months of being with Jax you still felt goosebumps break out on your skin when he whispered in your ear. “Don’t care what you tell ‘em, besides not to come. Tell ‘em Abel is sick, or you’re sick, or hell – tell ‘em the truth.”
You definitely weren’t going to tell them the truth, but there was no use attempting to say no to him when he was running the tip of his tongue on the spot, causing a shudder down your spine. “What about dinner, Jax? I worked away all day in that kitchen…”
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll make it up to ya,” he cooed, nipping at the spot before withdrawing to look up into your face again, his nose lightly brushing against your jaw as he went. He tapped your phone on the table beside you to further his point. “I can’t wait hours, I’ve gotta have you right now.”
You picked up your phone with a shaking hand, Jax smiling triumphantly before using one hand departed the table to slide up your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress higher until it was around your hips. As you managed the number to dial your mother, he stepped backwards to take you in, mouthing “no panties?” to you. You bit at you lip and nodded as a smile broke out across his face, cheeks burning red as the familiar voice answered. 
“Hi mom,” you greeted, sounding entirely too normal for Jax. He reached a hand forward, running a finger experimentally over the crotch of your hose that was already soaked with your arousal. He smirked when your voice hitched higher, his finger sliding to connect to your clit. “I’m so s-sorry to do this last minute, but I don’t think you should come over. Abel has been throwing up and is running a fever…y-yeah, I’m sure he’ll be okay…okay I will…okay maybe tomorrow. Love you too, bye.”
His lips connected with yours again as he took the phone from your hand, sliding it down the table to remove any change of distraction. The kiss became desperate, his hunger burning through as he applied more pressure to the kiss, his hand now working his pants down his hips to free his straining cock. Once unencumbered by his pants and underwear he attempted to pull your panty hose down with a tug to the material over your thigh, pulling away from the kiss with a huff when there was no give.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” he snapped, connected both hands to the material and tearing so there was a hole in the crotch area. He bowed his head to connect his lips to your neck again, his fingers swiping through your folds experimentally. He smiled crookedly when you moaned quietly, head falling back to give him better access to your neck. He nibbled at the spot behind your ear before slipping his index finger into your velvet entrance. “So, fucking wet, baby. Bet you could take me with no warmup you’re so soaked.”
You whimpered at his words, sliding a hand to the back of his head and lacing your fingers in his hair to tug his head backward, twisting your head to kiss him desperately again. He gave you a few pumps with his index finger before adding a second, repeating the thrusts and picking up the speed to piston the tips into the spongy spot behind your clit. 
“Fuck,” you whined when you released him from the kiss for air, Jax immediately running his eyes over your face to drink in your expression before running them back down your body, watching his fingers disappear into you repeatedly with the most vulgar, wet noises. He removed his hand from your hip to connect that thumb to your clit, expert figure eights combining with his thick fingers to coax you toward oblivion. 
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, nipping at your collar bone gently, smirking when your hips bucked upwards at his praise. “You go ahead and make a mess on my fingers, and I’ll fuck you right here.”
He curled his fingers again, repeating the motion over and over in time with the circles he was rubbing on your clit until your legs were shaking. As much as he loved to watch you gush around him when you orgasmed, he connected his lips to yours again, swallowing the loud cry that came from you as you did exactly that. Your vision blinded by white and senses on overload you hardly noticed his hands leave you, one fisting his cock firmly to give it a few pumps as the other grasped your hip, pulling you to the edge of the table. 
When you became barely aware again you felt pre-cum leaking head being rubbed through your truly soaked folds before he dipped into you, slowly sliding inch by inch into your wet heat. He pulled away from the kiss again to watch his cock disappear into you, groaning quietly as he leaned his forehead to your shoulder. You turned your head to kiss behind his ear as he had already done for you several times tonight, a shudder running up his spine as he buried into you to the hilt. 
Once he felt the head of his cock bump into your cervix he stilled for a moment, giving you a chance to adjust to him – he was so thick it didn’t matter how many times he’d taken you, there was always a stretch to accommodate him. You wrapped your arms around his neck after encouraging him to raise his head again, your hooded gaze meeting his before you leaned forward to bite at his bottom lip gently, pulling back to signify he could move. 
And oh, could he move. Jax Teller had the hips of a god, his thrusts into you slow and sensual and so deliberate, each inch of him massaging your inner walls perfectly. When you released his lip from your teeth to moan and slide one hand to the back of his head, fingers clutching his hair slightly he set the perfect pace, groaning at a feeling that got better every time he had you. 
He removed his gaze from your connected cores to look deep into your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he panted out between breaths, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’ve been so good lately, taking care of us. Fuck, I’m crazy about you. Who’d you get all pretty for today?”
 “You,” you whined out, barely capable of forming a coherent thought let alone words as he found the perfect spot to bump with each thrust. The hand you had on his shoulder gripped harder, your fingernails denting the leather he still wore. 
“Say my name,” he groaned out the instruction, one he often had to give as you lost yourself in him. He connected his thumb to your clit again, increasing the challenge knowing full well he was pushing you toward another orgasm and taunting you with the ledge. “Whose pretty fucking housewife are you, baby girl? Tell me that and I’ll think about lettin’ you make a mess on my cock, but not before then.”
You whimpered loudly, pulling his hair slightly to hold his head back so you could connect your gaze with his icy blue eyes, full of so much adoration it was almost sickening. Wanting to only add to it more you nodded, gasping out your words in moans. “’m yours, Jax,” you whined, clutching onto him tighter as you pressed gentle kisses to his lips over and over. “Fuck, I love being yours.”
He practically growled as his motions on your clit quickened, spitting between your bodies to give himself more lubricant to rub faster and faster. He started kissing you gently then, lovingly and soft as his breathing increased, sweat breaking across his brow in concentration. When your legs began to shake slightly he slowed his movements, bumping the tip of his nose against yours lightly. His next words were quiet, serious as he fought to hold off his own release. “Lemme fill you up then,” he asked, though it hardly came out as a question the intent was clear. “Wanna see you pregnant with my baby.”
Your walls clenched around him involuntarily at his words, a silent confirmation if the pornographic moan that fell from your lips wasn’t enough. Suddenly he could move again, and he did so perfectly, coaxing you right back to the edge of release. When your walls began to flutter around him he simply nodded, connecting his lips to yours in a heated kiss as your second orgasm rushed through you. With a few more thrusts of his hips, he spilled his own release into you with a groan, opting to pull away from the kiss to lean his forehead against yours gently. 
When you’d both finished and fallen into one another’s arms, faces buried in each other’s neck, you pressed lazy kisses wherever your lips were able, hands rubbing gently in whatever positions they’d landed. When he pulled his head away to look down at your neck, he smiled at the perfect marks he’d managed to leave, the sight almost good enough to make him hard again. Forcing himself to maintain composure he removed himself from you, running his eyes down your body to where your combined releases were dripping from you. 
“…can I eat before you take me to bed?”
He questioned, eyes flashing with the mischief that meant he was far from done with you. This new family dinner was certainly something you could adapt to.
masterlist.
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pilot-boi · 8 days
Note
Pilot, I know you primarily bully Jaune. But would you mind having a go at Papa Arc talking to the Vacuo mural?
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Orion Arc is not a hero, even though his son always thought he was. He’s just a man who loves his family and tries his best to do right by them.
So it’s more than a little strange standing there, in front of a mural of his own son’s face. His boy immortalized and honored in ways Orion could never dream of.
His son looks like a stranger.
“Mr. Branwen thought it might help to talk to ya.” Orion’s hand brushes over the palm prints of countless children, all paying their respect to his boy. “Don’t see much point, ain’t gonna bring you back.”
His son watches him, all quiet confidence and bravery. A true warrior, a hero. Where is his brash anxious son who begged to join the Huntsman Academies? How much of his son did he lose when Jaune finally left home? Somewhere along the way his boy grew into a man and he wasn’t there to help him.
“Your uh…” He clears his throat. “Your mother misses you.” And it sounds pathetic even as he says it. Even in front of a facsimile of his son he can’t say what he needs to.
“She was beside herself when you didn’t come back from Haven.” So was he, even more so than his wife. Orion paced the house for days, worry driving him to throw himself into work, into anything that would take his mind off the attack and the fate of his boy. “We were so relieved to hear from Saph about you and your friends.”
His friends. A group of seven that from all accounts Jaune grew closer to than even his sisters. Orion glances up at the others in the mural. Four of which fell alongside his boy, and the other three were left grieving.
Ren, Nora, and Oscar, he remembers them being called. He never thought he’d see his grief echoed in faces so young.
“As soon as we saw the broadcast, your mother was packin’ our bags.” Orion chuckles. “You shoulda seen her, she was fixin’ to march up to the General herself and teach him a lesson. If I ever wondered where you got your fire, I got my answer.”
His face falls, crumpling like paper. “And I triedta douse that fire.” How many times did he tell Jaune it was okay if he failed? How many times did he refuse to train him? How many times did he let his fear guide him to crush his son’s dreams?
“When you walked into the livin’ room with your transcripts in hand sayin’ you were gonna be a Huntsman whether I wanted it or not, why…” His eyes are stinging. If there’s anything his son inherited from him, it’s his tendency for emotions to live near the surface. “Why that was the proudest day of my life.”
He’d never been more proud. Never. His boy standing there with those papers clutched in his fist, and a defiant look on his face. “I won’t let you down.” Jaune had said.
You could never let me down. It’s what he should’ve said. Why didn’t he just say it?
Orion scrubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. It does nothing to stop the flow of tears. “Did I ever once tell ya how proud I am of you?” His voice is cracking and hitching, but if he stops talking now Orion knows he’ll never start again.
“You’re so brave and you don’t quit when things get tough. I saw how hurt you were after the Fall of Beacon, but you just got right back on that horse.” His baby boy, the most caring and most stubborn of all his children. Strapping the family sword back onto his hip because “Somebody has to, dad.”
Letters where it’s clear his boy isn’t saying half the trouble, but he’s saying enough that they know what trouble is. Hearing about the attack on Haven, a week and a half of terror. Saphron sending word that Jaune made it to Argus.
And then nothing. Nothing until the broadcast from Miss Rose.
Packing in a whirlwind, sending the girls to stay with Saphron. Renting the first available airship to Vacuo and contending with his wife’s motion sickness. By the time they got there, they were met halfway by a near armada.
But no Jaune.
Orion’s hand rests on Jaune’s painted cheek. A child’s hand against the larger-than-life hero his boy grew into when he wasn’t there.
Did he ever tell his son how much he loves him?
“Come back to us,” Orion begs, no longer trying to stem the flow of tears. Why bother? His son isn’t here to see them.
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anonymousewrites · 2 months
Text
Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Six
Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader
Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader
Chapter Six: Memories of Life and Death
Summary: Everyone says the wrong thing, and (Y/N)'s mental health pays the price.
            (Y/N) closed their eyes and put their hands over their ears as Angel’s show-and-tell video played. It was, of course, nothing short of one of his acting scenes with more of him than (Y/N) ever wanted or needed to see.
            “Ya know, this performance won me a ‘Sex-x-x-i’ award,” said Angel proudly.
            “It’s, uh, very…honest?” Charlie averted her face.
            “Ew,” said Vaggie. “Okay, enough of that! Angel, what the fuck?”
 ��          “What? You said it was Show n’ Tell day!” said Angel. “I’m showin’ you my best film, and I’m tellin’ you that it scored me a win over that bitch, Tiffany Titfucker.”
            “Ya know, that’s not a very convincing interrogation scene,” said Husk from the bar as he cleaned glasses.
            “Alright, dickhead, what makes you think you have any right to insult my work to my fuckin’ face?” said Angel.
            “You’re really gonna sit there and act like these scripts ain’t hot garbage?” said Husk, raising a brow.
            “Fuck you,” said Angel. “This is classy art!” He pointed at the screen on an incredibly inappropriate scene.
            Pentious covered his eyes with his head flaps, and Niffty grinned happily as she watched.
            “That’s bullshit,” said Husk. “You get drunk and bitch about them all the time. Everyone likes to bitch to the bartender. I know everything about you and these motherfuckers at this point.” Angel rolled his eyes, and Husk decided to make a point. “That one.” He pointed at Pentious. “That one is an insecure buffoon whose lonely ass watches you idiots sleep. Princess is a bleeding heart who wants to solve everyone else’s problems ‘cept her own.”
            “What? No, I—Pfft, no, no,” denied Charlie nervously.
            Husk just continued on to Vaggie. “This one judges everyone and everything because she hates herself.”
            “Aargh!” Vaggie hated how accurate it was.
            “That one.” Husk moved on to (Y/N), whose flowers flinched nervously. “Is sick and tired of being thought of as some innocent kid by everyone here and might go crazy if anyone tries to put that role onto them.”
            (Y/N) smiled sheepishly. Unfortunately, they really did feel like that.
            “And Niffty.” Husk made a face. “You don’t even wanna know what her deal is.”
            Angel cackled. “You weren’t kidding. Haha, wow! Kitten’s got claws! Meow~” He grabbed Husk’s face teasingly.
            “And you!” Husk pushed Angel back. “Don’t get me started. I see right through you and all this bullshit and how fake you are.”
            “Oh, me? Fake?” challenged Angel. “Wow. I had no idea. Guess that’s why I’m an actor. Dumbass. And—” His phone went off, and Angel’s face fell before he grabbed it. “Hold that thought.” He walked a few paces away. “Hello? Uh, yeah, I’m-I’m…” His entire attitude had changed, growing nervous and hesitant, completely unlike the usual Angel Dust the hotel dealt with. “No, no, I just, I—No, I’m not, but, uh, yeah…I’ll be right there.”
            He turned off his phone and looked back at the group. (Y/N) furrowed their brow in concern as they saw a familiarly fake smile spread across his face. They had worn that smile themself. It had weighed more than a thousand tons on their shoulders.
            “Well, uh, looks like Val needs me for an, uh, emergency shoot,” said Angel, trying to seem excited and eager.
            “Uhuh, sure,” said Husk, seeing through it.
            “You know what?” snapped Angel. “Fuck you! I don’t give a shit what a drunk ass bartender thinks a’ me! So why don’t you just crawl back to whatever cave you came out of, porn critic.” He gave Husk the middle finger and walked towards the door.
            “Angel, you can’t leave yet!” said Charlie. “We haven’t finished our exercises for the day.”
            “I’m sure you’ll manage without me,” said Angel.
            I don’t think he can say no to Valentino, thought (Y/N), frowning.
            They knew Angel had a contract with Valentino, and they saw the exhaustion in him whenever he returned to the hotel. They knew that if he could, Angel would rest more often. But he couldn’t. And (Y/N) really wished they could do something about it. After all, if there was one thing they despised more than anything else in this whole Hell and Heaven and Earth and everything, it was those that took advantage of others. The very thought summoned a murderous rage (Y/N).
            They knew what it felt like to be used and abused.
            The roses on (Y/N)’s head quivered and wilted as they felt themself on the verge of really, truly remembering (reliving) what they had gone through in life, and (Y/N)’s chest tightened.
            “There isn’t much time left for the hotel to prove itself,” said Charlie, her words drawing (Y/N) out of their mind successfully.
            “Dollface, it’s my job,” said Angel forcefully. “I know you want to fix everything, but unless you can fix my boss, there’s nothing you can do.” He slammed the door shut and was gone.
            “Uuuuugh, why is this so haaaard?” groaned Charlie, curling up in front of the door. “What am I doing wrong?”
            “I don’t think Valentino wants Angel to be redeemed, even if it’s possible,” said (Y/N), frowning.
            “But I do,” said Charlie. “And I really believe in him! But he always has to go to work and can never really commit…What do I do?”
            “Well, I mean, you’re the princess of Hell,” said Vaggie.
            “So?” said Charlie.
            “So, you don’t really use the power that comes with that, which I love about you, but maybe you can…I don’t know, command a little more authority?” suggested Vaggie, smiling encouragingly.
            “But that’s so mean!” said Charlie.
            “I don’t know much about the Vees, but I’m sure they’d deserve it,” said (Y/N), and Husk nodded in firm agreement.
            “It’s not mean, exactly,” said Vaggie, trying to get through to Charlie in a way she’d understand. “It’s, uh, aggressive kindness!”
            Wow. (Y/N) and Husk looked at each other, unimpressed by that “persuasion.”
            “Okay!” Charlie brightened, apparently having been convinced by the idea of “aggressive kindness.” “I could be so aggressively kind to Angel’s boss that I convince to let Angel spend more time at the hotel!”
            “Sure, whatever gets you there, babe,” said Vaggie, smiling at Charlie as she walked out the door happily.
            “Is killing Overlords not on the table?” murmured (Y/N).
            “No,” said Husk. “At least, not for you.”
            “Fine, fine. I’ll do it another time,” said (Y/N).
            Husk shrugged. “As long as you know you’ll win, go for it.” He didn’t care if Valentino got what was coming to him.
            “Do not encourage them to kill people!” said Vaggie.
            “It’s not people. It would be Valentino,” said Husk, and (Y/N) nodded in agreement.
            Vaggie sighed, but she couldn’t disagree.
l
            When Angel returned, (Y/N)’s anger returned full force. He was clearly exhausted and uncomfortable, and whatever he had to film, it was long and, possibly (likely), painful.
            “Eugh, I need a drink,” said Angel, slumping across the bar counter. “The hardest you can make.”
            “Hm. You look like shit,” said Husk, putting a glass down and pouring a drink.
            Angel straightened and put on his overconfident act. “Pfft. Not possible. Just a long shoot, nothin’ new.”
            “Are you alright, Angel?” asked (Y/N), frowning.
            “Of course!” said Angel, but he quickly chugged the drink Husk had made him. He slammed the glass down. “I said a strong one.”
            “Excuse me,” scoffed Husk. “Didn’t realize this was a ‘drinking to forget’ kind of night.”
            “Oh, I forgot. You’re the wise old bartender who’s seen it all!” Angel spoke confidently, but the look on his face was clearly not. “Get the fuck over yourself and pour me a real drink.”
            “Look, if you got a problem, you’re not going to find the solution at the bottom of a bottle,” said Husk. “I should know, I’ve been looking there a long time.”
            “Oh, sure, and where should I look, huh?” said Angel, scoffing. He wiggled his eyebrows. “In your bedroom, maybe? Under the covers? Maybe we can go and look together.”
            “Angel, we’re actually worried,” said (Y/N), walking over. “We want to make sure you’re okay and take care of yourself.”
            “I’m fine,” snapped Angel. “I don’t need any help.”
            “Cut the act,” said Husk. “We can both see through it. You’re just lying to yourself and being fake.”
            “Call me a fake one more time, motherfuckers!” Angel snapped, leaning forward towards (Y/N) and Husk angrily.
            “Angel—” began (Y/N), reaching out slightly.
            “Just leave me alone!” snapped Angel. He slapped their hand away. “Ya know what?! Ya’re all fucking lucky to be talkin’ to me! And you—” he glared at Husk “—would be lucky to fuck me! Ya know how much I’m worth?!” He was clearly spiraling. “Ya know how many people would kill to have Angel Dust come onto them?! Fuck you!” He spun on (Y/N), who flinched back. “And you! Just leave me alone! Stop trying the nice act on me! Acting like you’re innocent and nice when you’re just as much a sinner as us! Just fucking stop!”
            (Y/N) flinched back as Angel stormed out. Their chest constricted, and they were overwhelmed as words from their past came to the surface. (Y/N) stumbled back even as Vaggie came around the corner. They could vaguely hear Vaggie asking Husk what had happened, but everything was faraway, like (Y/N) was underwater.
            (Y/N) pulled away from the group, and as the edges of their vision blurred, they stumbled away, farther into the hotel.
            Away. Need to get away.
            (Y/N) collapsed in a darkened corner of the hotel.
            “Don’t act innocent. You’re a filthy sinner, and if you don’t start obeying me, you’re going straight to Hell.”
            (Y/N) curled up, putting their hands around their knees. Unbidden, roses and briars bloomed around them, creating a protective barrier that couldn’t hide (Y/N) from the words echoing in their mind.
            “I saw you in Church. You weren’t paying attention. Can’t you do anything right? Do you want to burn for all eternity?”
            (Y/N) squeezed their eyes shut and put their hands over their ears, but nothing could block out their memories.
            “You’ve brought this on yourself. You refuse to atone for your sins, so I must deliver you from yourself.”
            (Y/N) flinched, and phantom pain blossomed on their back.
            “You are a sinner! You bring sin into this household! You must atone!”
            (Y/N) curled farther in on themself.
            I’m fine. I’m free. None of them can hurt me again. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.
            “I’m fine. They can’t hurt me. I won. I won. I won.”
            “Sinner. Filthy. Dirty.”
            “No, no, no, you were the filthy one. You hurt me.” (Y/N) murmured. “They hurt me, and I punished them.”
            “Wrong. Mistake. Abomination.”
            “I did the right thing. I did the right thing. I did the right thing.”
            “You have to atone.”
            “Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me.”
            (Y/N) tried to breathe as their entire body ran hot, lungs too tight, the air too stuffy.
            And then something cool wrapped around them. (Y/N) tensed, but they were too exhausted to open their eyes, too scared to see the people they were so desperately trying to block out. So they just let the comforting temperature wrap around them, settling around them. It stilled their thoughts, delivering them from their own mental hell.
            (Y/N) let out a tired breath and held themself tightly. Whatever was settling around them felt like no enemy, and (Y/N) would take any bit of comfort they could find.
            They had never gotten any before.
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            Alastor lurked within the shadows of the hotel, gazing over (Y/N)’s small, protective barrier. He loomed above, perfectly able to act as he wished, ready as ever to drive fear into all. Instead, Alastor let the shadows rise and settle around (Y/N)’s shoulders. Their breathing calmed, and Alastor pulled back farther into the shadows, satisfied.
            He could’ve frightened them. He could’ve driven them farther into their own madness. He could’ve pushed them and their magic to the brink to see if they had the strength to survive.
            But Alastor hadn’t. He’d heard the same words he’d spoken to himself so, so long ago. And he’d done what, perhaps, a different, faint version of himself would have wanted.
            Perhaps (Y/N) and he were not as different as he assumed.
            Instantly, Alastor retreated into the shadows. He would prefer to think over that new realization on his own. It presented quite a few considerations Alastor had so far avoided in his life.
l
            Much, much later in the evening, (Y/N) braved a return to the lobby to attempt to steal a drink before retreating to their room again.
            “Hey, kid?”
            (Y/N) froze and turned. Angel was standing across from them, rubbing his arm nervously.
            “Oh. Uh, hi.”
            “Listen, kid.” Angel stepped forward. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry. For earlier. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did. I was being stupid. You’re a good kid. And even if you’re in Hell, you’re betta than most of the sinners in the Hellhole.”
            “It’s okay,” said (Y/N), shifting uneasily. “You weren’t feeling well. I’m sorry for pushing.”
            “You, uh, cared,” said Angel. “It was nice of you. So thanks.”
            “You’re welcome.”
            Angel smiled slightly. “Are we okay?”
            (Y/N) nodded. “We are.” Angel wasn’t who (Y/N) had escaped. He was their friend.
            And whoever had helped them was their friend, too.
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meshlasolus · 4 months
Text
Don’t Blame Me
Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader
A/n: i am so tired and everyone hates me but hey at least i still have dbf joel
Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, some smut, probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am… again
This one is awkward ngl
Decided on the song ‘Don’t blame me’ by taylor swift bc I’m a swiftie and what else was i supposed to put?
MASTERLIST
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reader is like 21/22, joel is 37
“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”
“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.
“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”
The temp job was easy, mostly because Joel did most of the heavy lifting. It had been all fun and games for the first week, standing by him and watching him work, handing him the specific tools when he asked. Seemed like a dream job in most aspects, getting to sit and look pretty while the man you’re sneaking around with gets all hot and sweaty, his arms a bulging mass of muscle under the short sleeves of his dark t-shirt. 
He would often smirk when he sensed you were taking him in, admiring the view from where the toolbox was sitting. He would tease you relentlessly for it, of course, as is his way… but it didn’t stop your glances and forbidden stares. 
A whole week it had been this way, and you were more than happy to keep the flow of things going, but unfortunately on Sunday night, Joel got sick. 
It was just a fever, nothing he couldn’t sleep off in a few days. He’d called you on Monday morning before he even called anyone else at the site. They all wished him well and sent their little ‘get better soon’ messages thereafter, while you offered to drop by later with some ‘sick day’ supplies. He told you he didn’t want you catching whatever he had, and you understood that if you were sick, too, the odds of seeing each other would get lower. 
Week number two, the first several days of which were spent without Joel, and doing far too much heavy lifting of your own. There was another woman working with you all, and they supposed that two of you could make up for one Joel. You didn’t even realize how truly strong he was until you had to carry the weight he normally did. Even with another person, it was tiring and straining, and downright gruesome on your muscles. You’d been sore every night you went home. 
As soon as Joel came back, you’d have to remember to help him out a bit more, because there’s no way he enjoys not being assisted. He always insists you don’t have to, but you’ve learned how hard it is, so you want to. 
Thursday, Joel’s first day back at work, not feeling completely himself, but better enough to come into work and make some progress. 
You paid mind when he bent down to lift a heavy beam that should have taken two men to carry. 
“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”
“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.
“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”
He gave you a look, narrow eyes and furrowed brows, “Save it for what?”
You shrugged, beginning to walk backwards once he had his part lifted high enough to move the beam. You looked over your shoulder a few times to make sure you weren’t gonna crash into anything. 
“Just don’t want you to keep gettin’ sick. Been missin’ you,” you admitted, waiting for his reaction. He’d been feeling the same way, you knew. He’d sent you texts after you got home from work everyday to tell you so. 
“Missed you too, baby,” he set down his end once you both reached the correct spot on the interior, kicking it into place by the rest of the framework. 
You smiled sweetly at him, continuing the work as if nothing happened. As if your heart didn’t skip a beat from hearing those words in person, in his voice, dripping with the Texan drawl you were so fond of. It was comforting, it was familiar, and it gave you a sense of security. 
-
By the time Monday rolled around again, the framework had been completed and the electrical and plumbing started to take place. This was less of Joel’s and your dad’s specialty, but they still always showed up to oversee everything being done on time and to the company’s standards. 
This, of course, meant that you were nearly obsolete, and didn’t need to show up for the next few days. Now that you were the one being barred from doing any work, you had to come up with other excuses to drop by Joel’s after he came home from work. 
‘You left your jacket on our couch, and I wanted you to have it back before it gets cold out.’ 
Or 
‘My dad made a really good four cheese lasagna, I brought you some to try.’
It was always so much harder to figure out a time or place to meet up, since he and your dad worked together, and Sarah was almost always at the house after school. 
He knew you were going stir crazy, and even though he’d been tired and worn, he knew he had to see you… alone.
You were in the kitchen rinsing out your cereal bowl when your phone buzzed on the counter top. 
Sarah’s going over with a friend to spend the night, I’m on my way home right now.
Is that an invitation?
Damn right it is.
You smiled wide, not even bothering to do anything else with the bowl in your hand. You dropped it in the sink and went galavanting about your house and up to your room. Your dad would probably be getting home about the same time as Joel, maybe a bit later, but you figured you should wait to see him before you leave for the night. You’d feel even more guilty if you just shot him a text and left for his best friend’s place, right next door for the night. 
You got wrapped up in a sweatshirt and some jogging shorts, grabbing your backpack and phone charger, swinging around the doorway and back down the stairs. 
As luck would have it, the sound of keys in the door caught you just as you reached the bottom. You dad pushed through the door, his yawn of exhaustion clearly evident. He hooked the keys on the wall hanger beside him, then turned to see you, pulling the straps of your bag up your arms. 
“Hey there, lovebug,” he smiled, taking a few steps up to hug you around the neck and peck the top of your head. “Where are you off to?” 
You thought for only a split second before forming a story. 
“Nowhere in particular… just got invited by some friends to drive around and get some fast food.” 
Very convincing, and he laughed, shaking his head. 
“Kids these days, I’ll tell ya… back n’ my day we used to go to movies or walk around a mall. Used to do actual activities n’ things.” 
You rolled your eyes, letting him rant on about the ‘strange ways’ of your generation.
“Well, we aren’t kids, but we are easily entertained. I’ll see you later, though.”
You gave him a pat on his shoulder and a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door. Right before it shut, you could hear your dad fumbling around in the kitchen. He would probably be distracted for a while. 
Your face turned giddy as soon as you looked over to see Joel’s truck had been parked. You tried to look as nonchalant as possible, walking plainly over to the house next door, just in case there were any neighbors looking through an open window. You had no qualms about being near or with Joel, but you did have a problem with outside people making it their topic of conversation in the neighborhood gossip chain.
You got up to the door, and knocked, the door opening within maybe five seconds or less. The response time was near immediate, and you wondered if he’d been sitting in his chair near the door. 
“Hi there, I’m here to tell you about our lord and savior Jesus Christ,” you said seriously when he leaned into the doorframe, only breaking your facade when he stood there, unamused. You let out a giggle and at the noise he dropped his hard exterior.
He rolled his eyes and nodded inside before stepping back enough to allow you entrance.
“How was work?” You asked, dropping your backpack on the chair and waiting for him to close the door. 
“S’ alright. Mostly just a long and boring day with nothing pretty to see.”
“I’m sure my absence had nothing to do with that,” you remarked sarcastically, letting him take the last few steps to meet you. He looked so tired, and yet, completely awake just at the sight of you. 
“No, nothing at all.”
He took you into his arms and leaned down by your ear, whispering the last part of his words to you. It had been several days since you could stand like this, out of sight of others, their prying eyes all but away to witness the way he held you and squeezed you tightly. 
He smelled of sweat and concrete powder, which, though wasn’t a horribly unpleasant smell, you felt it couldn’t be comfortable to have it all over one's body. 
“Why don’t you head up to the shower and I’ll order a pizza?” You suggested, pulling back to see his worn out face, feeling the deep inhale of his breath by his chest. He let it out with a hunch of his shoulders as he replied. 
“I got food here, I can cook up sum’ quick-”
“Joel you’re exhausted, and besides… I got dominoes rewards,” you joked, pressing up to kiss the tip of his nose. There was no room for protest after that, and he nodded in agreement before pulling away to head upstairs. 
He had half a mind to ask you to join him, but having not crossed that line before, he didn’t really know what was on and what was off of the table. He shook the thought from his mind, going into his bathroom and starting the water. 
The domesticity was intoxicating. Hugging you after he got home from a long work day, of which he missed seeing your face. Seeing your smile and hearing your laugh and all the little gestures you make that you don’t even realize you’re doing. Sending him upstairs to get cleaned up only so he can come back down to you and eat pizza on the couch together. He hated how much he loved it, relaxed into it, even.
It’s almost too good to be true… and maybe it is. Because while you fit him perfectly, and while you both can pick up without missing a beat, you’re still the kid next door. His best friend’s daughter, and someone he should absolutely not be doing anything stupid with. That’s exactly what this was, wasn’t it? Stupidity. There’s no way this relationship ends well. Whether your dad comes around, or Sarah does, or the entire town for that matter. Whether or not his reputation is ruined, or yours. Nothing good can come from sneaking around, the quiet embraces or the late night stolen kisses. But you can’t stop, and neither can he.
He gets into the shower with a clear mind. Whatever happens, I have her for right now. 
-
You paid for the pizza and carried it inside, kicking the door shut as you balanced it along with the sides and sauces all in your arms. Joel had gotten out of his shower a few minutes ago, and was probably getting dried off and changed, so it was perfect timing that you had everything set out on the countertop when he came trotting down the stairs. 
“Hey, I got you some wings,” you told him, pointing to the box labeled ‘hot buffalo’ across from where you sat on the barstool. You’d been dipping a breadstick in marinara when he walked around you, kissing the side of your head before sitting down beside you. 
“Thank you,” he spoke gratefully, his hands already reaching for the box, moving the pizza to the side for a moment. You knew what he liked, a testament of the time you’d known him for. “So what’ve you been up to? Now that you’ve had a break from work?” 
“I wouldn’t call what I do actual work,” you snorted, but paused and tilted your head, recalling the day’s events. “I cleaned up ‘round the house, went to get some groceries for my dad, came home n’ watched some tv n’ had half a bowl of cereal.”
“Sounds eventful,” he mocked, and you gave him a nudge with your elbow. He chuckled, taking a bite of a chicken wing. 
“Haven’t really had anything else to do,” you shrugged, grabbing a pizza slice and dragging it out of the box, carefully pulling the cheese so it didn’t flop all over the counter top. “Not that I’m complainin’, though. Rather have time on my hands than be too busy.”
He understood that. It seemed like all he ever did was work nowadays. It was the same cycle, over and again. Wake up at six in the morning, eat breakfast with Sarah, drop her off at school, and get back to the grind. Framing, insulating, installing, furnishing, repeat. All day, every day. Come home late to dinner with Sarah and sometimes watch a movie before bed. It’s all he ever does, and though it’s consistent, and it’s familiar, he aches for the additional warmth you bring. It’s why he called you over that first night in the bar. He hadn’t expected to see you back, and moreover, he didn’t expect you to seem so grown up. 
He swears up and down that if you hadn’t been there that night, practically taunting him during that line dance, that this would have never happened. You both would have gone on to live alongside one another, but separately, just as you always have. 
The conversation continued, slowly, with no pressure of any answer from either side. It was easy, natural. Joel didn’t like talking when he didn’t have to, and although it was different around you, he still kept his words to a few. 
Once the pizza was eaten, the trash was discarded, and you’d move to the sink to get some of the grease off your hands. 
“Y’know, we’re gonna be startin’ on interior installations soon, you might be able to come back and work on some stuff with me, if you still want to.”
You were excited at the thought of his words. Getting to watch Joel Miller lift heavy things like countertops and cabinets? And all the while, getting to watch from a now insulated house? That was even better. 
“Well, I’ll obviously have to check my schedule. You know how busy I can be,” you joked, drying your hands on a paper towel from beside the sink. You turned around to throw it away but got caught between Joel and the counter, his arms coming down on either side. 
“You tease me far too much, y’know that?” He lowered his head to meet your eyeline and you took a sharp intake of breath. 
“Only because it’s far too much fun.”
He shook his head, getting close enough to close the gap and kiss you. First just short and sweet, then after a second glance, faster, and more motivated. Your hands found a place on his cheeks right away, holding him close to you while he kissed you deeper, his tongue finding its way between your lips. His hands went from beside you to under your thighs, picking you up as if you weighed nothing, and setting you down onto the edge of the counter by the sink. With your legs open, you pulled him into your body, not even realizing how roughly you’d done so. 
“Damn baby, you’re gettin’ real strong,” he chuckled, burying his face into your neck to kiss and suck marks there. Consequences and aftermath be damned, he wouldn’t stop.
“Must be from all the heavy liftin’ last week… pickin’ up your slack.”
He bit down harsher into your skin, and you moaned out a noise akin to pain and pleasure. 
“Keep talkin’ baby, I’ll show you real slack.” 
“Only gonna make me stronger,” you whispered against the side of his head, a smirk resting on your face, even in the position you were sitting. He had all the power, but you still had your little quips.
His hands at the bottom of your sweatshirt were hesitant. He talked confidently, without pause or conviction, but the truth of the matter would always remain that he was going to be hesitant with you. You’re the forbidden fruit, the thing he wasn’t supposed to touch, and yet… here he stands, his hands under your hoodie and lips thoroughly attached to the crook of your neck and shoulder. 
“Fuck it,” he let out, dragging the hem of your clothing upwards until you raised your arms for it to come off. Where it landed, you’d have no idea. You just know that in this moment, with his hands on your bare skin, you couldn’t care less if you ever saw it again. 
You’d not really paid mind to what you wore underneath it, an old red and gray tie-dye sports bra now the only thing to adorn the top of your body. He didn’t care in the slightest, far too happy to even see you in that.
He quickly moved you from the counter into his arms, journeying through the kitchen and again to the living room, just like last time… except instead of sitting down, letting you remain on his lap, he laid you back into the cushioned area, crawling over you to hover back where he had been before. 
You didn’t think it was fair to let him take off clothing while remaining fully clothed. 
“My turn,” you pushed him back, ripping at his t-shirt to try and rid him of it. It was a fresh shirt, probably just came out of the dryer last night, but you tossed it to the ground without a second thought. 
You don’t recall seeing Joel shirtless. You remember that one time at the water park after graduation, when he wore a pair of trucks, and a sun shirt. Whether it was because he was afraid of getting sunburned, or because he was self conscious, you would never know. From what you could see, you couldn’t possibly imagine it being the latter. He wasn’t ripped, or even overly toned for that matter. He had a sculpted softness about him that was completely beautiful. He doesn’t work out, but he definitely works. His arms are full and muscular from the heavy lifting, and his shoulders are naturally broad, defined by the bulk he’s put on over the years. 
You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a body like his. The boys that have pursued you at college have always been either overly scrawny, or beef cakes. They want to be the hottest thing around. Want to be desired by every girl that walks past them, just so they can feed their ego and feel better about themselves ten years from now. Joel isn’t like that. He’s got a cocky attitude about himself, but it’s more in his teasing and snarky demeanor towards you than anything else. He’s sarcastic, and cynical, but he’s not doing it for show. 
He’s old enough to realize he doesn’t have to impress anyone, because the right person will want him regardless, and you do.
You want him because he’s Joel Miller, not some body builder, or football player, or gym rat that stalks the hallways of your dorms. 
You want him for his strong arms, tan lines right where his shirts normally end. You want him for his wide shoulders, even with the little scratches from bumping into wooden framing all day. You want him for the patchy beard on his face, knowing he only keeps it because he’s far too busy, and nearly always too tired to keep up with the clean shaven look. You want him for his dark curls, graying more every day and turning the color silver when he stands in the sun. You want him for his big hands, with the calluses and rough palms, but with the softest and most gentle fingertips you’ve ever felt on your face. You want him for the softness of his stomach, though seen as a flaw by most of society, you’d much prefer it to the discomfort of a stomach toned with abs. You want him for every bit of himself. You want him because he’s perfect.
He stripped your shorts and underwear from you at once, and it amazed you how adeptly he did it. He’s been doing this for years, he knows what he’s doing, stupid.
“You alright?” He looked back at you, his eyes glazed over completely. The darkness that was there was the same lustfull darkness you’d seen before, and you anticipated what may come from it. 
“Yeah,” you smiled, watching him sink backwards and down your body. He parted your legs in a swift motion, unwilling to slow himself down on account of being so close to what he wants. “You don’t have to-”
“Shh, baby,” he pulled your hips upward and towards his face, admiring the slickness already resting between your legs before he lowered his mouth to taste it. It was so addicting, the smell of you, and he knew the second his tongue ran a long stripe up and down, he would be craving you constantly. Always on the verge of wanting you from now on. 
The noises you made, lordy, he didn’t know someone could sound like that. The very fact that you were unashamed to hide it from him, too. He loves it, how vocal you are, and how much you want him to know how he makes you feel. 
He held one finger to your entrance, coating it in your slick before plunging it deep inside of you, the curl of his knuckle making you writhe under him. He added another finger to see if you could take it. You were so tight already, and he knew that if you weren’t stretched out enough he would hurt you. 
Two fingers wasn’t necessarily painful, but it caused a bit of discomfort at first. You didn’t expect that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but you tried to relax anyway. You wanted him so badly, wanted him entirely, and didn’t want this to put a damper on anything. 
“That’s it, sweet girl. Just like that,” he praised, trying to help you open up more with the added pressure of his thumb on your clit. The gentle circles helped you to feel less of a stretch, and the pleasure was building. You wove your hands into his hair, trying to feel a tether of reality somewhere. He kept on, and went faster, and you felt yourself at a breaking point. 
With his name on your lips, you broke apart, releasing all the tension left in your body to allow that euphoric rush to consume you. It caused your body to tremble under his, but you paid no mind to it. Once he retrieved his fingers from you, he held them up to his mouth, licking the sweetness from them that you so generously bestowed upon him. 
You tried to sit up, to reach for his belt buckle, but he stopped you. 
“Not tonight, baby,” he grabbed your hands and kissed them, the slightest bit of residue remaining on his lips. 
“But I want to.”
“I know you do,” he smiled, brushing your hair aside to kiss you now, instead. “I just don’t wanna hurt you. Let’s work towards it, okay?” 
You nodded, a bit embarrassed that you weren’t quite experienced enough to continue yet. Not to say you were inexperienced, but you definitely weren’t ready to take him yet, and he knew that for sure. The last thing he’d want to do is go too far and make it unpleasant for you. 
He’s a good man, with good intentions. Even if this relationship - whatever you want to call it - is forbidden, he’s still trying to do right by you. It’s unspoken, but you’re his girl now, and he would never hurt his girl.
.
tags: @justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin @theatrelove3000
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httpsserene · 5 months
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im back to request another x male reader hehe🤭a plot inspired by moth to a flame by the weeknd, what do ya think?
𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐰/𝐥𝐧𝟒 & 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: lando has many regrets, the most painful one being the fact that he encouraged you to date oscar.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: angst. beta read. emotional infidelity. implied future possible cheating? established relationship w/oscar piastri. unhappy ending. but also, open ending (sick n twisted). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris & male!reader | oscar piastri x male!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: moth to a flame • the weeknd & swedish house mafia
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲:  i HATE writing cheat*ng fics, like the idea genuinely makes me sick to my stomach–i never understood why someone would cheat when they can literally just break up 😐, it pisses me off. it’s purely greedy behavior, manipulative, and disrespectful as fuck. but honestly an emotional affair would borderline break my heart more than a physical affair—like you love somebody else more than me??? and you’re not even having sex with them, you just have more emotional intimacy with them??? i fr would shatter into pieces—ANYWAYS: wikipedia was my source for the timeline, so if doesn’t canonically make sense…it is what it is :p sorry for hurting lando, i didn’t want to 😔i think this is my first true angst fic ever? enjoy, loves !!!
thank you to @biancathecool for beta-reading this fic for me !!
want to be added to my taglist? want to submit a request? send me an ask!
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lando wishes he never invited you to the silverstone grand prix in 2022. he knows you would’ve been insulted if he didn’t; you’ve been his best friend since the two of you were in diapers, and you’ve avidly supported him during each race. so, bringing you along to his home race was a given. however, after his meeting with the team post fp1, he caught you sneaking back into his driver’s room with heart-eyes, flushed cheeks, and a new number saved in your phone. it was the first time you met oscar piastri, who at the time was a reserve driver for alpine. when lando teased you for details, you downplayed the interaction, but you also asked him if it was fine if you got to know the australian rookie. he snorted, you didn’t need his permission to associate with other drivers. 
four months later at the the circuit of the americas, you told lando you were dating oscar. 
he’s thankful that you waited until after the race to tell him because he would’ve shunted into the barriers. lando’s heard of how people struggle to get over someone they’ve dated and fell in love with—but how does he recover from getting over someone he’s never allowed himself to fall in love with? 
lando feigned happiness for you, his shocked laughter passing for joy. he ushered you to sneak into oscar��s room to “make the most of the time you had together,” while he went out to celebrate max’s pole and his p6. the brit did congratulate his friend, and then for a man who claims to not like alcohol, he proceeded to get wasted. he was a mess, enough that he had to be escorted back to the hotel by daniel and carlos—as if being babysat by one of them wasn’t embarrassing enough. he broke down, sobbing into the spaniard’s shoulder about his missed chance, and was eventually soothed to sleep by daniel awkwardly rubbing his back. 
he knew it would be difficult to pretend that he wasn’t distraught at your new relationship. he’s had you to himself his whole life; and now he has to see you love another man. when oscar joined mclaren for the 2023 season, sure, he first-handedly witnessed how well the rookie driver treated you. good morning and good night texts aren’t forgotten even with ever changing time zones,  you’re spoiled with gifts, lando catches how oscar’s phone has three alternate home screens with photos of you, oscar’s car passenger seat is adjusted to you, he has a list of things you like written in his notes app, he has your coffee order memorized. you’re wearing oscar’s mclaren merch instead of his, you stay on the australian’s side of the garage and calm his nerves instead, you game with lando half as much as you usually did and go out on dates with oscar instead, the collection of stuff that you’ve forgotten in lando’s flat decreases and he spots your stuff in oscar’s flat when he came over to hangout with you two one day. you’re rarely in your own flat, lando has to call or text you to find out what you’re doing instead of just randomly appearing like he usually does, you practically live with oscar when he’s back home, and it becomes very clear to lando that he’s your best friend, not your boyfriend. something else becomes clear to lando. while you may be infatuated with oscar, you’re still his other half. 
your phone battery may die during several hour long facetime calls with oscar, but does he know that when you sleep in your own bed, that you call lando and plug in your phone so it charges while you fall asleep to the sound of his voice?
the passcode to your phone may be oscar’s birthday, but does he know that you have lando listed as your emergency contact?
you never order any seafood dishes on dates with oscar, but does he know that’s muscle memory from years of knowing lando gags at the smell?
oscar kisses the scar you have on the knuckles of your right hand, but does he know that’s from when you broke your hand punching a group of older boys who were bullying lando after he beat them in a kart race?
does he know that lando was your first kiss?
it all comes to a head in qatar. oscar won the sprint race, lando hasn’t won anything in the five years he’s been in formula one. you were late to the party the team is throwing for oscar because you were cradling lando as he sobs into your chest. max won the grand prix, and lando was the first loser to cross the finish line; as usual.
at two in the morning, there was a knock on his hotel room door. lando knew it was you from the cadence. you were dressed for bed, clothes wrinkled, voice deep and throaty from sleep, hair mussed to one side, and pillow lines were indented on your cheek. you asked him if he wanted to talk, that you noticed he was off this whole weekend. all lando could think about is the fact that you woke up in the middle of the night, slipped out of the bed you shared with oscar, and continued to wander to lando’s room half-asleep because you were worried about him. waiting until the morning didn’t cross your mind. lando’s heart ached—he shouldn’t be in love with you, he can’t be.
he let you in anyways, how was he supposed to turn you away? you were blinking at him with sleepy eyes, swollen cheeks, pouted lips—he’s only a man. you made yourself comfortable on top of his bed, and lando stared before he shrugged and laid down next to you; this is fine, this is a completely normal thing the two of you have been doing for years. just not while you have a boyfriend, or while he’s suddenly been accepting his feelings for you.
you didn’t say a word, and kept your eyes shut (you’re used to lando, he’ll speak when he wants to or he’ll be fine with your presence next to him while he sorts out his thoughts). you almost fell asleep before lando’s torrent of words startled you into awareness. 
he was tripping over his words, his brain moving faster than his mouth. self-deprecating and over critical views fell from his lips—the way they sounded clued you into everything you already knew. the brunet had been thinking this for a while, the phrases sounding too practiced to be sudden realizations. the remaining whisper of sleep was vaporized from your mind at lando’s harsh evaluation of the weekend and his entire career. 
you rushed to sit upright and bodily forced lando to turn and face you; your hands warmly blanketed the sides of his face and applied enough pressure for his words to become unintelligible before they tapered off. he knew that you were disagreeing with his monologue from the way your brows were furrowed and how your eyes were alight with anger. the air between you vibrated with the force of your speech, and lando knew you were probably ranting about the only reason he isn’t world champion is because of his car, not his self-perceived lack of skill. 
the sharp edge of your jawline was far more interesting to brit—the length of your fanned out eyelashes, the shape of your lips shifting as they formed syllables, the strength coiled beneath the skin of your hands, the broad spread of your chest—lando’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips distractedly and the sound of your voice returned to his ears.
“…you better understand me, okay?” is all that he caught. the senior mclaren driver (how weird), hummed half-heartedly in agreement. his stare tunneled to the part of your lips, and he knew his appreciation was discovered by the audible catch of breath in your throat.
it was like all the air was sucked out of the room, a perfect vacuum created. lando hesitated, before he redirected his gaze to meet yours, and he was sure what he saw was more catastrophic than anything he could’ve imagined. your eyes were locked on his lips, as well. the brunet can’t tell how much time passed by, the two of you were busy taking turns admiring the idea of a kiss. both of you continued to stare; eyes flickering across faces, tongues wetting lips, breath quickening in anticipation, and bodies leaning closer to each other steadily. when lando felt your exhales ghost faintly over his mouth, his eyes fluttered shut and he shivered slightly, a sense of satisfaction flooded his brain; you were going to kiss him—and then he heard you gasp.
lando’s eyes flew open to see you scrambling off the bed, a horrified look painted on your face as you stared at him. 
“this never happened,” you started, running an anxious, guilt-ridden hand through your hair, “and it will never happen again.”
it felt like his world was crashing down, he was frozen in shock. you moved to rush by him and leave the room, and he finally defrosted, and caught you by the arm.
you turned around furiously, tears gathering in your eyes as you forced your arm out of his grasp, a scathing, “let go of me,” leaving your mouth.
lando’s hands were shaking, mouth wobbling as he held back his own tears, and he rambled, “you're just going to forget what happened? were never going to talk about that? you’re not going to tell oscar?”
“NO!” you screamed, “no—i won’t tell oscar. and, i don’t have to tell him anything, because nothing actually happened. it was a mistake.”
he heard his heart shatter, and he couldn’t hold his tears back anymore. lando angrily brushed them away as they fell, knowing his face was embarrassingly red with anguish, and his insides burned at the look of pity and longing mixed in your gaze. 
“so, you’re just going to pretend that you don’t have feelings for me,” lando questioned disbelievingly, “like i don’t know you better than oscar ever could? you’re just going to forget this ever happened and run back to bed with oscar, and continue to have him believe that everything is fine?”
the air was still for a minute, your shared breaths the only audible noise in the room. 
“you’re only going to hurt him more if you act like everything’s okay,” lando whispered, “he doesn’t deserve that.”
your first tear of the night fell, your arms wrapped around your torso to hold yourself, trying to find any glimpse of protection and comfort you could. “oscar’s good to me…he treats me well, perfectly, even. he’s sweet, i really like him a lot.”
“you ‘like him a lot,’” lando repeated, staring into your eyes desperately, “but, you love me.”
the flame of rage and distress reignited in your eyes, “lando—i loved you for years. and, not once have i ever tried to make a move on you because i didn’t want to ruin our friendship. i didn’t even know you liked men until almost three fucking years ago! and, you still never gave me any sign that you were romantically interested in me. you had plenty of time and chances to date me, and you only realized that you wanted me when you lost me to oscar.”
“that’s not true,” lando murmured, “i’ve always been in love with you.”
lando watched the fury falter in your expression, and saw the conflict dance in your gaze. your stare softened, and you stepped forward to hold his face in your hands. 
“i can’t do this. not to oscar—he doesn’t deserve it. i can’t break up with him.” you said in a muted tone, “we shouldn’t be together.”
the brunet whimpered, eyes watering again. his large hands came up to hold yours against his cheeks, nuzzling into the warmth of your palm. you sighed brokenly, and leaned forward to press kiss on lando’s forehead. a muffled sob vibrated through lando’s chest, and you blinked rapidly to avoid crying again. your thumb swiped under lando’s eyes, brushing away his fresh tears, and you gently swept another kiss along his cheekbone.
lando cries messily when you pull away, and can only hold himself as you leave his room without glancing backwards at him. when the door shuts, lando falls to the ground, leaning back against the bed as he sobs into his hands. he understands what you said, but he can’t help but yearn for more. his chest aches painfully, and he doesn’t know if he can give you the time you need—the distance you need.  lando will pretend to be okay, he’s good at that. he’ll let you be for as long as he can manage, but he’s reassured at the knowledge that you’re in love with him. 
eventually, the two of you won’t be able to fight the pull of what you really need—you’re moths to each other's flames.
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