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rufflebuttercup · 4 months

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romance analysis unit | spencer reid

summary: you like spencer. spencer likes you. somehow, you're the only ones on the team who can't see it - and that calls for some BAU intervention.

a/n: i had a bit of an impulsive moment and decided to delete my old blog (vintagecarat) because i wanted a redo, so if you've seen a variation of this fic before, it’s not been stolen - i promise! this is my favourite x reader i've ever written, so i had to rewrite it, of course!

enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day! <3 requests are open!

note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mention of alcohol, mention of canon-typical violence, reader gets hurt, mentions of blood, one bed trope

word count: 5,173

One year, seven months and sixteen days. That's how long it had been since you'd started working at the BAU.

One year, seven months and nine days. That's how long it had been since you'd realized that you had a sickeningly huge crush on Spencer Reid.

It had been a long time since you'd had a crush. The last time had been in elementary school, and you'd been convinced that you were in love with the boy who sat two seats to the left of you in class. He’d gone on to marry your best friend and leave you with a broken heart. In hindsight, though, you were only five.

You'd fallen for people before, and you'd had a string of partners in the past, but it had been such a long time since you'd felt the way you did when you looked at Spencer. Seeing him smile made your heart thud erratically in your chest. Hearing him ramble made you smile in the giddiest and most euphoric way possible. Feeling his fingers brush against yours whenever he handed you your morning coffee made your brain turn to mush and left you unable to form a coherent sentence for at least ten minutes. You were trying your hardest to break that last habit, though.

Your crush on Spencer quickly became a topic that you knew you wanted to keep a secret from the rest of the team. The last thing you needed was all of your progress as the newest team member to be weighed down by a crush that made you blush and giggle like a child.

During a particularly wild night out with the team, though, your plan to keep your crush on Spencer a secret went flying out of the nearest window, along with any shred of dignity you had remaining after drinking one too many shots. It had been a miracle that Spencer hadn't been there at the exact moment the words spouted from your lips. At least you had your drunk self to thank for something, you supposed.

Penelope had been the first one you'd told. Definitely a foolish move on your part, but you were too drunk in the moment to make any logical decisions. Emily and JJ had gone to the bar to get more drinks - "another round of shots", Emily had screamed before dragging JJ away - leaving you and Penelope alone to guard the table in the corner. She was the one who'd brought up the conversation, and naturally, you'd followed along without a care in the world. If there was anything good to come of the situation, then it was the look on Penelope’s face. You wished you’d taken a picture of her expression as the words tumbled from your mouth.

Penelope couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, and once she knew, it was only a matter of time before Emily and JJ knew. She’d screamed so loudly that you’d almost gotten kicked out of the bar for causing a disturbance.

"Place your bets," Emily had shouted over the pounding bass music, slamming a twenty-dollar bill onto the table, "How long until Garcia tells Morgan?"

It barely even took an hour. Emily ended up winning her own bet.

Derek had practically cornered you at your desk the next time he saw you in the bullpen, failing miserably to hide the smirk on his face as he showed you his phone and the babbling, completely unintelligible, texts from Penelope.

With the alcohol out of your system and the devastating hangover a painful memory, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole. Maybe you could quit, or request a transfer, or simply disappear to the other side of the country and become a recluse in the wilderness. Wishful thinking, of course.

From that moment on, you noticed that the rest of the team was messing with you. You didn’t have any proof, but you were sure of it. You’d enter the conference room to find that the only seat remaining was next to Spencer. You’d find yourself paired up with Spencer more often during cases. You and Spencer would frequently be the last two members left in the bullpen at the end of the day.

It wasn't as if you particularly minded. You and Spencer were best friends. You had been from the moment you'd walked into the bullpen on your first day and immediately made a comment about the book he was reading. You were used to being around him more often than not, but it was a lot harder to act as if nothing had changed when you were on edge 90% of the time. You were always wondering if he knew anything about the crush you had on him, or if someone else was about to blurt out the secret that you were trying so desperately hard to keep hidden. You couldn't bring it up because you'd either out yourself or you'd be forced to have a conversation that you were sure would end in rejection.

It was an endless cycle, and you hated it.

You were in the bullpen with Dave, perched on the edge of your desk as he rattled off his famous carbonara recipe. You’d always wanted to be a better cook, and Dave had promised you that he'd teach you, even though he really didn't want you burning his kitchen down to the ground.

“Okay, so, do you add the cheese and the egg together, or separately?”

“You combine the egg first, and then you add the cheese.”

“Oh. Right. So…”

It was at that moment that Derek decided to sidle over to the conversation, perching himself on your desk beside you with an all-too familiar smirk on his face.

“Since when have you been interested in learning how to cook?” he gave you a not-so-subtle nudge.

You shot Derek a glare, “Derek. Don't.”

"Unless you were planning a date for pretty boy over there.”

He nodded his head in Spencer's direction, and you couldn't help but follow his eyes. It was automatic. The sight of Spencer pouring pretty much the entire jar of sugar into his coffee made you smile, but it was definitely an expression you wiped off your face when you heard Derek's laughter.

“I swear to God, Derek…”

“Guys,” JJ interrupted, entering the bullpen with a case file in hand, “We've got a case.”

“Is it bad?”

JJ simply grimaced.

“Of course it is,” you said with a sigh, hopping off your desk. Derek was still failing to hide his laughter beside you, and you swatted at him, “Shut up, Derek.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

It didn’t surprise you at all to see that the seat beside Spencer was the only one available. As you slid into it, you caught Emily smirking at you from across the table, though she was clearly trying to hide it. You shook your head at her, though you couldn’t stop a tiny smile from ghosting over your lips as you focused your attention onto the case file in your hands.

ꨄ︎

It always seemed as though every case at the BAU was worse than the last one.

You’d all been called to a small town in Wyoming after a frantic call from the police department. Three victims had been found in the town’s frozen lake with anchors tied to their ankles to keep them below the surface. A fourth victim had gone missing, and there was no doubt that she’d end up like the others if she wasn’t found. It was a horrifying fact that everybody knew, but nobody wanted to admit.

It was later, almost 11 pm, and you were no closer to solving the case than you had been when you’d first arrived. It was as if the unsub was always three steps ahead of you, and it was frustratingly annoying. You’d spent a good portion of the afternoon scouring through decade old case files. The lead detective was convinced that it was related to a similar case that had happened in the 1990s. You hadn’t found any striking similarities between the two and you were beginning to wonder if there would be any at all. He was clutching at straws, desperately trying to close the case as quickly as possible. You couldn’t fault him for that.

Just as the words on the case file were beginning to blur into one large amalgamation, a gentle hand landed on your shoulder, “Hey,” JJ said, “We’re all heading to the hotel.”

“You go ahead,” you waved dismissively, stifling a yawn, “I’m going to finish looking over these files, and…”

“Hotch’s orders,” she cut you off, “You need a break. We all do.”

You looked to the doors of the precinct and saw the rest of the team ready to leave, muttering amongst themselves in a tired conversation. Aaron raised his eyebrows, almost expectantly, at you.

“Alright,” you didn’t bother trying to hide another yawn, “I’m coming.”

JJ smiled softly at you, almost dragging you to your feet because of how exhausted you were. It didn’t really feel as if your brain was in control of your body as you padded after her. You’d been so caught up in the details of the case that you hadn’t realized how tired you truly were. The sudden rush of air that hit you as you exited the building made you even drowsier.

“You look exhausted,” Spencer chuckled as he helped you into the SUV with a gentle hand on the small of your back that almost made you combust right then and there, "I've seen you tired, but this is another level."

You simply made a little grunt in response. You didn't have enough energy to come up with one of your usual witty comebacks. You clumsily collapsed into your seat, and you leaned your head back against the headrest as your eyes fluttered shut.

It wasn't too long of a drive to the hotel, but that didn't stop you from catching a quick power nap during the brief moment of peace. You couldn't get Spencer out of your head. Or, more specifically, that hand on the small of your back. He'd never touched you like that before. Ever. It was sending your brain spiraling, to be honest.

“We’re here,” Spencer’s voice filtered into your ear as he gently shook your shoulder, “Wake up.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glanced to your left. After a moment, your eyes came back into focus, and it hit you that your head was leaning on Spencer’s shoulder, “Oh,” you quickly sat up, though you almost choked as the seat belt snapped you back against the seat, “Sorry.”

You were so very glad that most of the team weren’t in the same SUV as the two of you because they’d never let you hear the end of it. The only other person was Aaron, and as you caught his eye in the rearview mirror, you could tell that he was trying not to uncharacteristically laugh at you. You did your best to ignore him, which wasn’t exactly easy when your face began to burn with a familiar wave of heat that you’d grown accustomed to.

That chuckle of Spencer’s that you loved so much and made your heart do flip-flops in your chest echoed in your ears, “It’s fine. You clearly needed it. And I do make an excellent pillow.”

You snorted out a laugh, and you gave him a shove as you climbed out of the car beside him, “Shut up.”

The rest of the team were all waiting beside the front desk with their bags as you and Spencer entered. Even though you made sure to look in any other direction, you definitely saw the subtle smirks Derek and Emily were shooting you out of the corner of your eye.

Aaron finished his hushed conversation with the receptionist, and with a curt nod, he moved back over to the rest of the team with key cards in his hand, “They don’t have enough rooms for all of us. Looks like we’re doubling up.”

If Spencer noticed the subtle smirks and side glances from the rest of the team, he never mentioned them.

Instead, he nudged your shoulder, “We’re sharing, right?”

“Of course, we’re sharing. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you took the key card Aaron was holding out to you, and you couldn’t help but notice his lips twitching up into a tiny little-half smirk. You brushed it off, though, “I’m sleeping on the bed nearest the window this time.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer followed you as you made your way to the elevator, “I like sleeping near the window.”

“No. Not happening. You slept near the window last time.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as the elevator shot up to your designated floor. Your eyes wandered around the small space, and you found yourself looking anywhere other than at Spencer. You weren’t an anxious person, and it wasn’t as if being alone with Spencer was a new thing to you, but your mind was racing. All because of that one small gesture. His hand on the small of your back. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and you wished you could because it was making your cheeks burn.

“Even the elevators are fancy,” you muttered, casting a quick glance around the elevator’s plush and yet miniscule interior, “For a small town, they sure do have nice hotels.”

Things really were dire when you started making small talk. You were the type of person who could make a mountain out of a molehill with how much you talked. You almost rivaled Spencer with how much you could babble on. Small talk wasn’t your thing at all.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Hm?”

“You hate small talk,” Spencer said, and you bit back a laugh at that. It was as if you and Spencer were on the same wavelength sometimes, “And you’re picking at the hole in your sweater. You only ever do that when you’ve got something on your mind.”

You immediately glanced down at your hands, dropping them from your sweater as if it burned. You hadn’t even realized you’d been picking at the hole until Spencer mentioned it. You hadn’t even realized that there was a hole at all. Your bottom lip jutted out in a quick pout, “I love this sweater.”

Spencer chuckled at that, “So,” he continued, “You’re clearly nervous about something. And it’s not the case, because cases never make you nervous.”

“Really?” you said, a hint of laughter creeping into your tone, “You’re analyzing me?”

The elevator reached your floor, and the doors opened with a loud ding, “I’m not analyzing,” Spencer stepped out, “I’m simply making an astute observation.”

“Okay, well stop astutely observing me,” you followed after him, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. You know I’d tell you, “ it wasn’t necessarily a lie. Maybe you’d tell him. Eventually.

Spencer glanced back at you briefly as if he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth, but he never said anything. Instead, he took the keycard from you and held it against the lock, waiting for the light to turn green before pushing open the door, “Oh.”

“What?” you sidestepped around him, “Oh.”

There was only one bed. Sure, it was a double, but it was still tiny. It was in that moment that you decided perhaps becoming an unsub wouldn’t be a lost cause.

“I’ll take the couch.”

“I can sleep on the couch.”

You and Spencer finished your sentences at the same time, and you turned to look at each other. As soon as you locked eyes, you both started to laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch either,” you argued, “It’ll kill your back, Spence. You’re way too tall.”

“It’s not fair on you, though. You’ll…” Spencer was about to argue some more, but he stopped when he saw the look on your face. Spencer couldn’t argue his way out of a wet paper bag - when it came to you, at least.

“Look, Spence. It’s fine,” you dropped your bag onto the couch before he could protest, “There. Easy. No harm done.”

Spencer frowned, but he reluctantly put his own bag on the bed, “Fine. We’re swapping tomorrow night, though,” he told you, almost ordering you, “You’re not sleeping on the couch the entire time we’re here.”

“Deal,” your lips curled up into a smile, and you sat down on the couch, “See. I told you I’d be sleeping near the window.”

Spencer laughed at that.

ꨄ︎

From your space on the couch, you could faintly see the glowing green alarm clock that sat on the bedside table. A strange commodity for a hotel room. It almost looked alien.

2:32 a.m.

You couldn’t sleep. You had a bad enough sleep schedule at the best of times, but the injury on your side was making things worse. It still burned, and if you gently put pressure on the area, you could still feel the deep wound through the layers of bandages.

You were almost three days into the case, and you’d finally had a solid lead. It had taken a lot of digging, but Penelope had discovered the unsub’s hunting ground; an old speakeasy hidden so deep in the town that nobody had been able to trace it. Since you were the closest in victimology, you’d agreed to go undercover to catch the unsub once and for all. All you’d ended up with was a knife embedded deep into your side as the unsub escaped once again.

You’d been in the hospital for hours after that. The knife had gone in so deep that it was close to catching something vital, and the doctors had told you that you were lucky to be alive. You’d spent most of that afternoon in a hospital bed, listening to the monotonous sound of beeping machines. After a concerned lecture from Aaron - he’d told you not to follow the unsub but you hadn’t exactly listened - you were bandaged up and sent on your way.

Spencer had told you to take the bed. He’d almost forced you into it at one point. But you’d seen the way he’d tried to discreetly stretch out his cramp throughout the day, and you were far too stubborn, so you refused his offer and tried to sleep on the couch for the night. It wasn’t working, though.

You huffed in pain, shifting uncomfortably in the hopes of finding a better position to sleep in. Every movement made your bandages rub against the wounded area. You finally thought you found a comfortable enough position and you tried to settle down, but then you felt a dampness seeping through your bandages, and you cursed under your breath.

“No, no, no,” you muttered, pulling your shirt up and surveying your body. Even in the darkness, you could see the dark spot where the blood had begun to soak through, “Goddamnit.”

You pushed yourself off the couch and tip-toed across the room. You didn’t want to wake Spencer, especially not in your current state. You kept a hand tightly pressed against your side as you slowly moved. You didn’t want to get blood on the carpet. The staff seemed lovely, and you didn’t want to ruin their day with your mess. Every single step made you wince as a sharp pain shot straight through your body, and your breaths came out as sharp little puffs of air.

A muffled noise from the bed caught your attention, and you saw Spencer begin to stir. He gently mumbled your name as he sat up and stared at you with bleary eyes, “What are you doing?” he looked you up and down, and then his eyes settled on the blood, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you told him, though you clearly weren’t, “I think the stitches came undone or something. It’s fine,” you tried to wave his worries off, “Go back to sleep.”

Spencer did the opposite. He clambered out of bed and turned on the light, lighting up the room so that you could both see each other clearly. Your heart started to thud a little faster when you saw that the shirt he was wearing to sleep in was a little undone towards the top. You’d never noticed that before.

“You’re not fine,” his eyes were laser focused on the blood as he took a step closer to you, “You’re bleeding.”

“Good observation skills, Spencer,” you laughed a little, though you grunted in pain as it aggravated the injury, “I told you, it’s fine. I’ll redress it, and…” you paused when you saw the look in his eyes. It was a look he’d never given you before, and it stole your breath for a moment.

“Let me see.”

“Spencer...”

“It’s obviously hurting you,” his sentence was almost demanding, and yet there was a soft and concerning tone to his voice, too, “Let me see it.”

You sighed. There was no way you could refuse when he spoke to you with that tone of voice. You gingerly lifted your shirt high enough for him to see it, “It looks worse than it is.”

Spencer gently pulled away the loose bandages and inspected the open wound, his eyes never leaving your body, “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “You’re not redressing it yourself, and you’re certainly not stitching yourself back up.”

You barely had a chance to respond before Spencer had darted into the bathroom, and he came out moments later with a roll of bandages the hospital had given you.

“Here. Sit,” he sat back down on the bed, and he patted the space beside him, “You’ll have to go back to hospital tomorrow. I’ll help you rebandage it for tonight,” his eyes darted between your own eyes and the blood that seemed to be pooling on your side, “Please.”

You hesitated for a moment, “Spencer…” there was no point in arguing with him, you knew that, and your wound hurt the longer it was left open, “Fine.”

You sat down beside Spencer, curling your legs up under you as you turned your back to him. Your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, holding it up high enough so that it wasn’t dangling in the way. This wasn’t the first time that Spencer had patched you up after an injury in the field, but this was the first time where you were definitely feeling a little light-headed.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” Spencer’s voice was a gentle whisper against your ear. You hadn’t even realized that he was practically leaning his head on your shoulder, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s hands were so gentle on your skin that it was almost as if he wasn’t even touching you at all. The only indication that he was even helping you was the bandages around your torso since he wrapped them so tightly that they felt like a strangely comforting hug.

“There,” Spencer said, almost proudly, and he gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Done.”

You glanced down at your body before dropping your shirt. The wound didn’t even seem to hurt any more. You became very aware very quickly that Spencer’s hands hadn’t left your hips, “Thank you.”

You shuffled around until you were facing him, and when your eyes locked, it suddenly felt as if time had come to a standstill. That look was back in his eyes; the one that you’d never seen before that made you feel as though you were melting on the inside. You weren’t entirely sure what was racing faster; your heart or your mind.

And suddenly, before you could really comprehend your actions, your lips were on his. Your body acted before your brain could catch up. Your hands tugged slightly on the collar of his shirt as if you were trying to pull him closer to you. The kiss was tender, and yet it was so full of obvious desire. Warmth flooded your entire body as your stomach seemed to explode with swarms of butterflies. This was a moment you’d thought about for a long time, and once your brain caught up, you couldn’t quite comprehend that it was happening.

It may have only been a few seconds, but it felt like hours. You pulled away, and it was only after you saw the startled expression on Spencer’s face and the faint blush that crept up his neck that you realized what you’d done, “Spence…” your mouth opened and closed, but now words came out for a good few seconds, “Spencer. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Your panicked babbling was cut off as Spencer pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “Shut up,” he smiled, and he pressed his index fingers where his lips had been moments ago, “Just shut up for a minute.”

If this were any other time, you’d be rather offended that he told you to shut up, and you’d keep talking. In this situation, however, you were happy to keep your mouth shut.

“You didn’t mean to, what? You didn’t mean to kiss me?”

“No. I mean… Yes, but also no, but…”

Spencer raised an eyebrow with a faint smirk, “I thought I told you to shut up.”

You pressed your lips together in a fine line, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, and he took your hands in his own. He squeezed them gently, and his thumbs began tracing soft little circles onto your palms, “You kissed me.”

You were more than ready for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Spencer seemed to notice because his grip on your hands got a little tighter as if he knew you’d go run, “I’m glad you kissed me.”

There was no stopping the surprised squeak that escaped your lips, “What?!”

Spencer chuckled at that, and the pink blush had spread up to his cheeks, “I’m glad you kissed me,” he repeated, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“You… You…” your mouth was hanging open, and your eyes were wide. You must’ve looked like an absolute idiot, “You have…?”

“Of course, I did.”

This conversation was going in an entirely different direction to how you’d assumed it was. You’d never seen Spencer look or talk with so much affection before. Spencer said your name with so much love in his tone that it snapped you out of your shocked state, “I like you.”

For a single moment in time, it felt as if the world had stopped spinning. You simply stared, unable to do much of anything else except feel a sharp tug at your heart, “You… You do…?”

“Are you capable of putting a sentence together, or not?” Spencer laughed, and he interlaced his fingers with yours, “Yes, I do. A lot, actually,” he smiled at you, and there was a hint of teasing, “I might be a genius, but even the dumbest person in the room could figure you out right now.”

You cracked a smile, and your shocked expression gave way to a relieved and delighted one, “I really like you, too.”

“Do you? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Shut up,” you giggled, and you never giggled. You knew this crush was childish, but this was on another level entirely.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you giggle.”

“I’m not giggling.”

“Oh, you absolutely are. You’ve always been a terrible liar,” Spencer grinned at you, and then his lips connected with yours.

The kiss seemed more affectionate than earlier, and a lot more passionate. Your hands wound around his neck, and his hands found a comfortable resting place on your waist. Your lips seemed to perfectly fit together like two puzzle pieces. It could’ve been seconds, or it could’ve been minutes. You weren’t entirely sure how long it had been, but you eventually pulled away from each other, and you were both a little breathless from the intensity. Intense was something you never expected from Spencer. You liked it, though.

You let your forehead rest against Spencer’s, “I hate to ruin the mood and everything, but…” your eyes flitted back and forth to the couch, “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore?”

“Absolutely not,” Spencer pulled you a little closer, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. Especially not now.”

“Good,” you curled into him as he pulled you closer to his side, letting your head rest against his chest with a gentle sigh, “The bed has better company.”

Spencer maneuvered the two of you until you were lying on the bed, and he tucked you that tiny bit closer into him. You’d imagined him hugging you plenty of times, but this felt better than any imagination could. He kissed the top of your head, and he ran a gentle hand up and down your back, “Sure does.”

ꨄ︎

“Penelope Garcia! I’m going to kill you!”

You stormed through the BAU and entered Penelope’s office, slamming the door open with such a bang that it made the walls shudder.

Penelope grinned as she spun around in her chair to face you, “Ah, my sweet angel,” she spoke with a beaming grin on her face, “Do you require my assistance?”

“You little…” you stepped a little closer, but it was hard to look even slightly threatening with a goofy grin on your face that you were trying to hide, “You gave me and Spencer the only room with a single bed?”

“I did no such thing.”

“I spoke to everyone else, Pen. Everyone else had a bed of their own.”

Penelope continued to smirk at you, not even trying to hide her laughter, “It worked, didn’t it? I haven’t seen you as happy as this in weeks.”

You faltered at that. She wasn’t wrong. Ever since you’d gotten back from Wyoming, you’d been happier than anyone had ever seen you. Of course, everyone knew about you and Spencer, and it didn’t take long for the good-natured teasing to pick straight back up, “Yeah. Okay. It worked, but…”

Penelope held up a manicured finger to cut you off, “Besides, my sweet,” she continued, leaning forward in her chair as if she had a secret to tell you, “I was the one who booked the rooms, yes, but I wasn’t the one who handed out the keys, was I?”

Another pause. The words slowly sunk in, and then your mouth dropped open in a mix of shock, humiliation, and a little bit of gratitude, “You… You don’t mean…”

Penelope grinned. She could practically see the gears turning in your head, and it made her laugh, “Oh, I mean exactly what you think I mean, my love.”

“Hotch set us up?!” you didn’t even wait for Penelope’s response. You turned on your heel and marched out of her office, leaving Penelope laughing to herself behind you, “Aaron Hotchner! I’m going to kill you.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader

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xxblairexxss · 6 months

Text

Cookies!

Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader

Them : Angst, I think.

Word count : 2k

Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.

I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔

Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.

But you did.

There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.

Some even called you lucky.

A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.

But there were still ups and downs.

The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.

“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.

Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.

And so did Aaralyn.

Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.

“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”

You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”

“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.

“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.

She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”

“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”

“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.

“What kind of powder?”

“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.

••

Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.

“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.

“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.

The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.

“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.

“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.

You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.

“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.

“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.

You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.

“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.

“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.

“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.

Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”

“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”

You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.

“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.

“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.

Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.

“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.

“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.

Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.

“Daddy…?”

“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.

“It’s me, Alyn!”

“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.

Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.

Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.

“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.

“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”

“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.

Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”

Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.

“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.

“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.

“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”

“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.

“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.

“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.

“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”

Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.

You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.

“Come, baby,”

Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”

Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.

“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”

“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.

“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”

Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.

3:02

Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.

It was empty. Untouched even.

“Honey?”

His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.

“Aaralyn. Honey?”

Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.

“Daddy’s

— Aarlyn ❤️”

••

You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.

As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.

Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.

“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.

“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.

“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.

“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.

“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”

“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.

“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.

“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.

“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”

#football imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fics #football imagines #football fics #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagines

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grison-in-space · 3 months

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I'm genuinely sorry, I was really tired and couldn't think of the word that mad pride movements use. I'm new to all of this. I thought you would be more open to it because you've reblogged from radical leftists (anarchists and communists both) within the past couple of weeks and they're all for Veganism afaik. The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different. I'm not spamming people with it, but I was inspired by an ask by a nonvegan and started asking popular bloggers why they weren't vegan to open up conversation and potentially change people's views on animals. If I've made you uncomfortable I'm sorry, though I admit I'm really confused by your standpoint. You do know that the only reason communism hasn't succeeded is because of America? Anyway, sorry again, I'm also autistic and I didn't mean to dismiss your legitimate dietary needs. Can I recommend acti-vegan's posts? While I understand that you can't go vegan, perhaps their blog will at least help you understand our points, they're much more well-written than my asks and they have plenty of legitimate science resources at hand. Thanks for listening, I'll take your advice into account. I'm not trying to not listen, it's just frustrating because so many people say they get it but they don't change, and if they truly got it they would, you know?

Okay, I get that you didn't mean to be offensive, and fuck knows I shouldn't throw stones when it comes to forgetting specific words. (This happens to me fairly frequently; it's a thing.)

The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different.

So yesterday I actually wrote out and then deleted a whole paragraph to the effect of "part of my deep, deep frustration with animal rights activism hooks into my commitment to the phrase 'nothing about us without us,' because I frequently see the same kinds of emotional projection without making the effort to listen to animals on their own terms from animal rights activism groups."

The first thing I need to make clear to you is that this--veganism and animal rights activism (ARA) more generally--is not new to me. I am in my mid-thirties and I have never had a job of any kind that did not revolve around animals in some way, I've spent time in rescue spaces and vets and universities, I'm queer and I have spent most of my life in leftish progressive circles, so it's kind of hard to miss.

Essentially, you are proselytizing to me as if you were a newly baptized evangelical convinced I had never heard of Jesus, because if only I had heard and understood his holy word, I would be converted instantly to his light! It's not any less irritating when the belief system isn't explicitly a religion.

More under the cut, because this one is long.

Disclaimer one: Veganism isn't synonymous with ARA ideology, but it's deeply entangled with it, and ARA ideology drives the movement of veganism as a (theoretically non-religious) ethical decision. And I object very strongly to the framework imposed by ARA activists. When I say I am not vegan, I am saying that I have considered the ethical framework that underpins veganism as an ethics movement and I have deliberately rejected it.

The second piece of context you should know that when I talk about being a behavioral ecologist, I mean that I'm a researcher who works on animals and that my framework is rooted in trying to understand animals in their own natural ecological context, without necessarily comparing them to humans. There's a lot of ways to study animal behavior you might run into, including attempts to understand universal principles of behavior that transcend species (animal cognition) and attempts to understand how to better treat animals in human care (animal welfare). You know Temple Grandin? Temple Grandin is an ethologist (the field that gave rise to behavioral ecology, also focused on animals within their species context) who worked on animal welfare (finding ways to make slaughterhouses less stressful to livestock, among other things).

Third point: my profession also means is that I work directly with animals--in my case, currently mice--and that I do not think research with animal subjects is wrong as long as all efforts are made to ensure maximal welfare and enrichment for the animals involved. This is another major bone of contention politically between my entire field and ARA groups, and you should know that I have also spent my entire professional career under the shadow of, well, people who care strongly enough about those ideas to invade my workspace and potentially seize my animals and "free" them into a world they do not have the tools to survive in.

So there's where I am coming from. Let's get back to what you're saying. Here, I'll quote again in case you have the same crappy short-term memory I do.

Point the first: Even within humans, I don't think that all brains should be treated the exact same. Especially in a disability context! After all, what is an accommodation if not an agreement to treat someone differently because they need certain things to access a space? Accommodations by definition fly in the face of this "treating everyone the same" understanding of fairness. I think all (human) brains are equally valuable, and I think all brains are worthy of respect, but I do not think that it's wise or kind of me to assert that everyone should be treated in the same way. For one thing, I teach students. If there's one thing teaching has taught me, it's that a good teacher is constantly assessing and adjusting their instruction to meet students where they're at, identify failures of understanding, and keep the attention of the classroom.

Point the second: animals do have different brains from humans. That does not mean that animals are inferior, but it does mean that they are alien. There's a philosophy paper, Nagel, What Does It Mean to Be a Bat, that you might find illuminating on this front. Essentially, the point of the paper is that animals have their own experiences and sensory umwelts that differ profoundly enough from humans' that we cannot know what it is like to be a different species without experiencing life as one, and therefore we must be terribly careful not to project our own realities onto theirs. That is, our imagination cannot tell us what a bat values and what it experiences. That is why we have to use careful evidence to understand what an animal is thinking, without relying on our ability to identify with and comprehend that animal. I have watched ARA groups deliberately encourage people to shut their reasoning brains off and emotionally identify themselves with animals without considering within-species context for twenty years. This is a mainstream tactic. It is not an isolated event and for that reason alone I would be opposed to them.

Point the third: there is a definite tendency in lots of people to care deeply and intensely about both animals and people who are seen as "lesser" in status--children, poor people, disabled people, etc--just as long as those groups never contradict the good feelings that come from the helper's own assessment of themselves and their actions. In humans, when the "needy" point out that some forms of help are actually harmful, the backlash is often swift and vicious. This is why animals are such an appealing target of support and intervention. They can't speak back and say "in fact, you are projecting my love of this frilly pink tutu onto me, and I think it's uncomfortable and prevents me from walking." They can't say "I kind of like it better when I don't have to worry about getting hit by a car, actually?"

(By the way: this is also why it's offensive to compare disabled people to animals, because this is generally done at least in part to silence the voices of disabled people speaking for our selves and our communities. We have access to language, and we use it, thank you.)

All forms of animal welfare intervention going right back to the founding of the first RSPCA have been incredibly prone to being hijacked by classist, racist, and otherwise bigoted impulses. This is because animals offer an innocent face for defense that conveniently cannot criticize the actions taken by their champions, and they therefore provide a great excuse for actions taken against marginalized members of human society. Think about the very first campaign the RSPCA ever did, which was banning using dogs as draft animals: a use that is not inherently harmful to dogs, which many dogs actively enjoy, but also one that was specifically used by poor Londoners and which in fact immediately resulted in a great butchery of the dogs that Londoners could no longer afford to feed rather than allowing poor people and their dogs to continue working together. No one was, of course, challenging the particular uses of dogs or any other animal favored by the wealthy. This kind of thing is so, so, so common. Obviously it doesn't mean that all interventions to prioritize animal welfare are inherently bigoted, but it does mean that we have to be critical about our choice of challenges.

On top of everything, the animal rights activist movement's obsession with "exploitation" is a function of the idea that humans are sinful or otherwise Bad in how we interact with animals by definition. For example, take the chicken rescue near me that is so obsessed with the possibility that some human somewhere might benefit from an animal in their care that they implant every hen they adopt out with hormonal implants such that the hens no longer lay eggs--a function that is normally a natural byproduct of a chicken's reproductive system, fertilized or not. A mutualistic relationship involves both parties benefiting, and that is the case for an awful lot of human relationships with animals. In general, the idea that associating with animals is a thing that can only harm animals rather than being a trade between two species to enrich one another is all over these groups. It's just so myopically focused on human shame that it prevents practical interventions that might benefit everyone, and often promotes interventions that don't directly benefit animals but sure do make humans miserable. For example, this kind of thinking is why groups like PETA are absolutely awful at effectively rescuing unwanted dogs and cats: they think pets living in "bondage" with humans are an essentially sad outcome, rather than one that might be mutually enjoyed by all parties.

I'm tired and my meds haven't kicked in, so I'm not currently going to handle the communism thing except to point out that while the US absolutely did destabilize a number of leftist regimes in South America and Africa, Russia and China between them have certainly not treated their own people kindly, either (and more so their own client-nations, as with the former members of the USSR). Please do some reading about the Holodomor and Lysenko in Russia (and frankly all of the details of Stalin's regime) and the Cultural Revolution in China in particular. Khmer Rouge might be worth looking into, too. I am not saying the US's hands are clean, you understand, because they are not; they're as steeped in red as anyone else's. What I am saying is that for people living on the ground, communist revolutions have this nasty habit of turning into bloodbaths and arbitrary slaughters. Do not let your distaste for the US's bloodsoaked imperialism (which, yes, is and was bad) let you fall into the trap of becoming a tankie.

And if you don't know what a tankie is, you really, really should take some time to learn.

#animal welfare #just #don't do this #when someone says “no”#please fucking listen #there's another essay in me somewhere on the painfully obvious sublimated dynamics picked up from Christianity all over this movement #but I do actually have work to do today including that ventral pallidum post I have been poking at

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arcaneauthor · 18 days

Text

Cute things San does as your bf

Requested by: @oc3anfloor

Pairings: Choi San x reader

Tags: established relationships, so much fluff, San being a golden retriever bf

Warnings: one small mention of drinking, but mostly just pure sweetness

Author’s note: fun fact, I was almost finished with this and accidentally deleted the whole thing so I had to try to remember what I wrote and rewrite all of it🙃 anyways hope you enjoy lol! Pls feel free to send me more requests🙏

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

San would definitely be the softest boi with you

Even tho you told him he doesn’t need to spend so much on you, he makes it his mission to take you out on a really fancy date at least once a month to make you feel special. He even shows up in a suit and with a rose in hand.

He hand makes Valentine’s Day cards for you cause they “have more meaning”

Let’s you co-parent shiber with him. Aka: you take him for one week and he takes him for the next. (If your a new fan and don’t know who shiber is it’s sans favorite plushie lol)

But if he goes on tour he lets you keep him until he gets back.

Gets so shy when you compliment him, face going all red. Especially if it’s about his body/muscles

Gives out the best compliments. Like they’re not just typical clichés, they are always so thoughtful and specific.

Somehow becomes even more affectionate while drinking. If people are right about drunk actions just being sober thoughts then this man must really love you, cause you hear him say it about 20 times before you can even get him in the car.

Nose kisses all day long

Such a big cuddle bug, always wrapped around you like a koala.

Although, he knows he can sometimes be a bit much so if you’re not a very touchy person he can definitely take the hint and back off a bit. He’d never want you to feel uncomfortable around him

Literally does everything that’s included in the typical “gentleman” category: opening your door, pulling out your chair, carrying your bags, etc. Not because of some macho agenda but it’s just another small way for him to show you respect and how much you mean to him.

If he for some reason has to leave before you wake up he leaves you a sweet little hand written note beside the bed.

Loves to lay on top of you and nuzzle his head into your chest or stomach.

Literally just looks at you as if you hung the stars. Every time he even glances your way he has the most loving stare paired with the softest smile you’ve ever seen

Starts off trying to act all brave when the two of you watch horror movies but he ends up being the one hiding his face behind you.

Pays such close attention to everything you say. Somehow remembers all of your likes and dislikes, even if it’s something small that you only mentioned one time in passing.

#choi san x reader #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #choi san x female reader #choi san #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #fanfic #reader insert #fluff #fluffy #headcanon

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pedropascalsx · 8 months

Text

A Long Awaited Reward. {Dave York x F! Reader!}

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 15.8k

Warnings: Unhappy marriage, known infidelity, ?slightly forced hand, mention of car crash (no injuries), oral sex (m&f receiving), P in V sex, loss of virginity, fingering, cock warming, some feelings, derogatory language, aftercare.

Comments: Dave has been cleaning up after his wife for too long, and you tempt him with a proposition that he can’t resist.

Co-written with @absurdthirst ❤️

Gif by me: @pedropascalsx!

Carol York is perfect. She has the perfect family, the perfect house, the perfect car and her most prized possession; her perfect husband.

Everything about Carol York is perfect… or so it seems.

The truth is Carol York has her demons, skeletons that are piled up in her closet, haunting the rows of designer shoes and racks of glamorous gowns that seldom get to see the light of day.

But to anyone you may ask, they would likely describe Carol York as a perfectionist, kind, generous, charitable and all around the perfect housewife; but you knew otherwise.

You spotted her the moment she waltz into the hotel bar, clutching her designer purse in one hand and her phone in the other. She was with her usual group of friends, all equally as loud and pretentious.

Sitting quietly in the corner and picking at the rest of the food on your plate you rolled your eyes as her group of friends laughed so loudly it made the glassware shake, really you had no real reason to dislike her but you couldn’t help it. The whole stepford wives persona that they all exude simply leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

You think back to the first time you had met her about ten years ago, still in your teens and still in high school, she had loudly made a comment about how boys never notice the plain, boring ones while looking you up and down. Everyone had laughed along with her, even your mom, who then spent the next few weeks trying to talk you into buying a new wardrobe but you weren’t interested.

You left the bar before she did that night, sneaking out without her noticing you and pulling into your driveway about five minutes before you heard her speeding around the corner. Her brand new Mercedes squealing as she drove straight into Mr. Perkins’ Chevy. You opened your door to check on her but before you could step out, you saw Dave running towards her. She stumbled out of the car giggling as she admired the damage she caused, clearly enjoying the look of annoyance on her husband's face.

You couldn’t make out their conversation but you could tell he was furious, shaking his head as he pulled out his phone and made a brief phone call. Slowly, you started to close the door, not wanting them to see that you had witnessed everything and once the door was gently pushed shut you made your way to bed.

You woke up the next morning to a commotion outside your bedroom window, neighbours all lining up to get a look at the damage that had been caused by the selfish driver that had left no note and that’s when you saw her... Standing next to Mr Perkins shaking her head and pretending to be just as outraged as he was.

Over the next few days you had considered sending an anonymous note, or anonymously contacting the police but ultimately decided to keep quiet, despite the guilt that kept you from sleeping at night. It wasn’t your business and you weren’t about to go to war with the Yorks.

Carol could make your life hell. But Dave… Dave seemed like he’d be capable of so much more.

Dave growls as he rewatches the tape from a few days earlier, making sure that he hadn’t missed anything from that night. One of their neighbours had caught the whole thing on their RING doorbell camera but thankfully Dave was able to have Resnick hack into their accounts and delete all the footage and make it look like the camera had unfortunately stopped working a few hours before the accident.

It was only as he was about to delete the last trace of evidence from that evening he noticed it. Your door barely in the frame, opening a few inches and closing just as he got off the phone to Ari - who had managed to get the exact model Mercedes Carol owned and replace it with the damaged one before daylight began to fall across the neighbourhood.

“Shit.” He hisses as he slams his hand against his desk. Your parents were out of town on their cruise, so he knew that the person who witnessed his wifes reckless behaviour had to have been you. He ponders for a second why you hadn’t said anything yet and wonders if it’s worth just letting things sit… but decides that paying you a visit is the best course of action.

He slides his phone into his pocket and makes his way downstairs to his wife and kids… hating the way her face is buried into her phone as the girls watched Tangled for the 10,000th time this month.

“We need to talk, honey,” he says with a smile, as not to concern the girls. “Now.”

“Sure,” she says with a roll of her eyes, before following him into her ‘crafts’ room.

The second she waltzes in the room, he closes the door and swings around to face her with a look of fury on his face, “You had a fucking witness,” he scowls, “And she saw the whole fucking thing.”

“What?” Carol says in utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

With venom dripping from every word he tells her everything that he could make out from the video. How it was clear that you saw everything and how they had to pay you a visit and make sure that you keep your pretty little mouth shut and not ruin their comfortable little life in the unsuspecting suburbs.

The doorbell makes you jump, not expecting anyone and planning on having a quiet night in front of the TV with leftover chinese food and netflix, you groan as you pull yourself up and off your sofa.

“Evening,” a raspy voice growls at you, as the door swings open, “I think we need to have a little chat.”

Dave pushes past you and Carol enters right behind him as you step back in shock. Every single thing about Dave York is entirely intoxicating, his scent, his voice and the fact he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on doesn’t help either. Even in the comfort of your own house, you’re being commanded by him and following him into your kitchen.

“Can I get you both a drink?” You ask after a few uncomfortable minutes, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your hands shake.

“No. Enough drinking.” Dave cuts his eyes towards Carol, annoyed that he’s in this position. If it weren’t for the fact that the bitch knows what he does, would threaten to tell everyone, he wouldn’t bother fixing this mess she got herself into. “Sit down.” He orders, kicking the chair opposite him out from under the table.

“Yes, sir,” you say with a gulp, unsure why you addressed him with such authority. “How can I help you?” You ask meekly.

“Have fun the other night?” Dave’s eyes are flat, emotionless as he leans in to stare into your own. Using the intimidation that comes so easily to him.

“Wha-what do you mean?” You stutter, your body almost frozen in fear as you look over at him.

“Going out.” He doesn’t expand on that, wanting you to spill what you know without him giving you anything more.

“I went out for a meal with a few friends from my book club on Tuesday at The Charlton Hotel.” You say quietly, managing to rip your eyes from his for a few seconds before he’s commanding them back with a sharp tut.

“And?” He demands harshly. “What else happened?”

“I think you know.” Is all you say, your voice small and barely higher than a whisper. You glance over at Carol who has a smug look plastered on her face as she watches her husband clean up her mess yet again.

“Say it.” He growls, slapping his hand down on the table, making you jump. He hates this, hates having to fucking clean up yet another one of her messes, but he has his girls to think about.

“I heard Carol drive into Rodney’s car, and saw you start to hide the evidence.” Tears start to stream down your face, as you realize just how much danger you may be in.

Good. Now that you’ve admitted what you’ve seen, he can make sure you keep it quiet. Dave reaches out and captures your jaw in his hand. Leaning in threateningly, he grunts. “But you aren’t going to say anything, are you?”

The yelp you make as his hand harshly squeezes your jaw makes Carol squeal with laughter, but you block it out, concentrating on forcing out a small ‘no, sir’ as your tears begin to fall even harder, and your sobs grow louder.

He watches you for a moment. Not particularly enjoying the tears or the distress in your eyes, but he can’t risk his wife being arrested. “Good.” His tone softens slightly and his thumb brushes the bone of your jaw slightly. “Always knew you were smart.”

You nod your head to acknowledge that he just spoke to you, his fingertips are still gently brushing against your jaw as you stare into his eyes. “I promise I won’t say a thing.”

“You promise huh?” Dave snorts, admiring how innocent you are. “I think I’m gonna need a little more reassurance than that.”

“I’ll sign an NDA,” you stutter, “I’ll do anything.” Carol's cruel laughter makes you shudder, but it just makes Dave rub your chin a little harder.

“No, I don’t think that will work.” He doesn’t know how he should keep you quiet, just that you need to stay that way. “Maybe I should just make the problem go away.” He threatens.

You start to shake your head and pull away, the fear evident in your eyes, “No… no… what does that even mean?”

“What do you think that it means?” He asks, his voice deceptively soft.

“Getting rid of me,” you say almost silently, the tone of your voice softer than a whisper.

“I don’t want to do that.” He admits. “So what is going to keep your pretty little mouth shut for the rest of your life?”

“I’ll sign whatever you want,” you say again, not really sure what he means.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I need something on you. Something you don’t want to get out.” He decides, smirking slightly.

“Like what?” You say, with a look of confusion plastered on your face.

“I’ll take pictures of you.” He decides, figuring you are - if not a virgin, close to it. You would be mortified if naked pictures of you were released to your family. “And if you breathe a word, I send them to every family member you have.”

“What?” Carol scoffs out from behind him. “I’ll take them. You are not seeing her naked.”

You remain silent as you listen to them go back and forth, unsure what to say, wanting to refuse but fear keeping your lips firmly closed.

“I told you I would handle this.” Dave hisses. “So shut up while I handle it.”

“Handle it then,” she growls back at him, “But I will handle taking any photos.” She stares at you with a look of disgust on her face as she shakes her head. “Plus I doubt she’s ever had a man as attractive as you see her naked before and I don’t want the desperate little slut trying to tempt you.”

“She’s a virgin.” Dave grunts, even though he doesn’t know that for certain. “Only slut in this room is you.”

“I-I don’t think that’s necessary,” you start to say, voice trembling as you try to find some confidence, they’re right but you don’t want to admit it to them, “I won’t say anything and let’s be honest… even if I did no one would believe me.”

“Aw bless her,” Carol mocks looking over at Dave, “Don’t worry honey, we know someone like you couldn’t handle someone like my Dave. And he’s not available anyway.”

Dave shakes his head, holding his hand up to silence his wife. “Then tell me what will keep you quiet.” He demands, his dark eyes on you.

You look over at Carol and see the cruel smirk on her face and the words just fall from your mouth and float heavily in the air.

“You. I want one night with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Carol bellows at you from across the table, “How dare you!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Dave snaps, whipping his head around and glaring at Carol until she sits back. While she’s smug towards you, she’s also just slightly afraid of him. When he’s satisfied that she will be quiet, he turns back towards you. “What did you say?”

You concentrate on him, refusing to look back over at her despite her yelling. “I want a night with you.” You squirm in your seat under his stare, the expression on his face neutral as he watches you.

“A night for what?” He demands, wanting to hear you say it out loud. Carol huffs and grumbles under her breath beside him but he ignores her as he watches you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you say as quietly as you can. Your fingernails digging into your thighs to stop yourself shivering with anxiety.

“She wouldn’t know what to do with you,” Carol taunts cruelly. Furious at what she’s hearing.

“Neither did you.” Dave snorts, looking over at his wife and giving you a moment since you look like you are about to pass out. The idea has merit and his cock twitches when he thinks about ruining you.

“Maybe before we do anything you can take that picture,” you say, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Before, during, and after I’m done with you.” He corrects.

“You’re speaking like you’re going along with this madness,” Carol spits at Dave.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Dave asks, smirking slightly. “How many people have you fucked over the last eight years?”

You watch as she incoherently mutters something in response under her breath. Still squirming in your seat as you think about Dave’s hands roaming over your body.

“You thought I didn’t know?” Dave scoffs, chuckling under his breath. “Sweetheart, I know exactly how many dicks you’ve taken, how many times you’ve taken them. Why shouldn’t I wreck our pretty little neighbor to save your skin?”

“So is this happening?” Your timid voice asks, as they take a break from going at each other's throats.

“No,” Carol screeches back, “Dave is going to pull out his checkbook and write you a pretty little cheque and you’re going to keep your mouth quiet or I'm going to inform every woman in this neighbourhood what a nasty little whore you are.”

“No you won’t.” Dave growls at Carol. “You can have all the dick you want but I cant fuck her?” He snorts. “Go wait at the house.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She growls at him, before looking you up and down one more time. “You really think you can handle a night with him, sweetheart? He’ll be bored senseless within the first ten minutes.”

“We’ll see,” you say quietly, “Maybe I'll surprise us both.”

“Go to the fucking house, Carol.” Dave hisses. “Or shut your fucking mouth. You’re the reason this is even fucking happening.” He’ll blame her, making sure she won’t try to blame you. “If you hadn’t fucked up, she wouldn’t be in a position to ask for sex.”

Your eyes remain focusing on him as she spews some colourful language in your direction before storming out the kitchen and out of the house.

“Now.” Dark, amused eyes turn towards you. He has to admire the gumption of your demand. “What makes you think that fucking me will keep that mouth of yours shut?” He asks. “Just having my cock in it?”

“You can take the photos,” you say, with a shrug, “I know the hell she’d cause for me and my family if I was to ever say a single word.”

“Why do you want me to fuck you?” He asks seriously. Wanting to know your reasoning behind this.

“She’s getting what she wants, my silence. Figured I’d ask for something that I’ve always wanted… You.” With a shaky breath, you reach your arm out to touch him, “Everyone wants you. You can’t pretend that women don’t throw themselves at you.”

“Everyone doesn’t want me.” Dave shakes his head. Some women might be attracted to him, but he also scares some off. “But if you want me, I have to ask what’s wrong with you?” He smirks.

“Read too many filthy stories,” you say with a giggle, “I don’t know. Lonely I guess.”

“I’m not the easiest to take.” He warns you. “And I like to fuck hard.”

A gasp escapes you at the way he’s speaking to you, but you can’t ignore the way your body reacts to him. “One night. I’m yours to do as you please with.”

Sitting back, he rocks his jaw as he contemplates it. “Are you on birth control?” He demands.

“No,” you admit, “But I can show you that I’m clean. I’ve nev- I can get Plan B and you can watch me take it… That’s if you don’t want to use a condom.”

“I’m not going to use a condom.” Dave decides. “And I’m going to fill two out of your three holes with my cum.” He smirks. “I’ll let you guess which two.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, clearly nervous but excited too. “When? Do I need to do anything to prepare?”

He snorts and reminds himself that you are innocent. “Show up when I call you.” He tells you, standing up and towering over you. “And forget what you saw Tuesday.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, standing up and studying his face for a few seconds. “I saw nothing.”

“Good girl.” He turns around and starts striding to the door, aware that his wife would be spoiling for a fight and he wants to get it over with before the girls come home from their Nana’s house. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you say softly, watching as he leaves.

It’s a quick walk back to his house, sighing heavily before he opens the door and steps inside.

You immediately throw yourself back down onto the sofa and question whether any of that really happened and you really asked to have sex with Dave York.

“Are you fucking serious?” Carol screeches as she watches Dave stride into the kitchen. “Are you actually considering fucking that little whore?”

Dave pins her with a hot glare. “What do you suggest, Carol?” He hisses. “I’ve got to clean up your mess, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean you get to make a mess with her,” she yells. “You’re not doing it, you can keep up the pretense and then force her to sign an NDA.”

“I’m done with your shit.” He huffs, striding over and grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking bitch, and this is your fucking mess!”

“Temper temper, Dave, we both know who’ll end up with the girls if this goes sour.” She says with a smirk, before stepping back and walking towards the cupboard with the wine glasses. “If you fuck her, i’ll take you for everything you’ve got.”

“I’ve got evidence, Carol.” Dave warns you. “Photos, texts, recorded conversations of you cheating.”

“Bullshit,” she says with a cruel laugh, before skulking upstairs with a bottle of wine tucked under her arm.

Dave growls, slapping a coffee mug to the side and wondering what the fuck is going on. Unable to believe that things have gotten so twisted.

A few days have passed since you saw Dave and Carol at your house and you’ve heard nothing. You figure that he changed his mind, and have decided to put the whole thing behind you and move on with the hopes that Carol doesn’t attempt to take revenge over your suggestion.

Laying down in front of the TV the sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table makes you jump.

‘Tomorrow night’ He sends you a text. ‘’Come over at 8. I’ll be taking you to a hotel.’

‘Is there anything I need to bring’’ You type back immediately, excitement swirling around in your tummy.

‘Your cunt.’ Dave snorts to himself as he hits send.

‘I’ll double check I’ve got it before I leave.’ You send back with a giggle. You decide that you’ll get up early and pop to the mall and buy something special for the occasion.

Dave hums at your smart ass reply, ignoring the way Carol huffs and puffs across from him. She’s pissed but she can just stay mad for all he cares.

You settle on an early night and sleep comes easily to you. You should feel guilty, but you don’t. It’s one night in exchange for keeping a secret for the rest of your life.

Between his wife’s cold shoulder last night and her quiet sullen expression this morning, Dave has had time to muse over what he will do. To contemplate it, rejecting several thoughts, he decides that he will just decide in the moment based of how you respond to him. He’s not a monster, he isn’t going to do things you don’t like, but you chose him. Your silence is worth getting some satisfaction.

The morning flies by and after a very expensive trip to the mall you find yourself clock watching, fighting the nerves and anxiety that are bubbling in your tummy. Wondering if you’re really going to go through with this.

Dave watches as you come and go from your house, working from home and he wonders where you’ve gone. He knows he could quickly find out, but half the fun is the wondering.

After a long soak in the bath and dressing in the new white lingerie you picked up that morning, you pull on your sundress and pack a few things for the hotel. Not convinced you’ll be sleeping but you pack some pajamas anyway, before slowly making your way to the York residence just before 8.

“I can’t believe you are going to do this.” Carol hisses as Dave picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Feel free to call the police department and confess to a hit and run while drinking.” Dave snorts, opening the door and looking back at his wife.

You see him at his door, and you shiver with anticipation. You pick up your pace a little until you’re waiting patiently next to his car.

“Get in.” He tells you as he unlocks the door.

“Yes sir,” you say with a shy smile, before climbing in.

Dave hums, taking his bag into the back seat before he climbs behind the wheel.

“So, how are you?” You ask after a few minutes of driving in silence. Clearly nervous and wondering if he can tell.

“Surprised that you are here.” Dave tells you. “Honestly.”

A small giggle slips through your lips and you see his brow raise in response and you’re almost certain his lips began to curl upwards before falling back into their natural state of neutrality. “I’m not… I thought you weren’t ever going to text me though.”

“Why is that?” He looks at you at the stop sign at the end of the road.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, “I guess I figured you already knew I have no intentions of saying anything.”

“I figured that out the second your chin trembled in my hand.” Dave chuckles and sends you a small smirk before he turns to the right and starts driving towards the hotel he had booked.

“Mhmm,” you say, before nervously biting on your bottom lip. “You definitely had me in the palm of your hand.”

“Gotta say I’m surprised you came out and just said that you wanted me to fuck you to keep silent.” He snorts. “Thought Carol was going to stroke out.”

“Yeah, I still can’t believe I said it either.” You admit. “I can’t believe she didn’t punch me.”

“Fuck her.” He rolls his eyes. “She deserves it for being a fucking cunt who acts like she’s got a get out of jail free card for everything.”

“Well then I guess it’s time you got a reward for being such an attentive husband.” You reach over and gently squeeze his knee before letting your hand fall back into your lap.

“Are you a virgin?” Dave asks, wanting to know if it was true. He had said you were, but he didn’t know for sure.

“Is it a problem for you if I am?” You ask quietly. A little nervous about his answer, but figuring that he already knows anyway.

“No.” Dave shakes his head and his cock is throbbing at the thought. “I will just not ram my cock into you. I don’t want you to hate fucking.” He snorts.

“I won’t mind,” you say with another giggle, “I should admit that I’ve thought about it… Thought about you.”

“What have you thought about?” He asks, wanting to know how deep this little crush goes.

You moan as his hand grips onto your thigh, “Dirty thoughts. There was this story I read where the Dad sold his daughter to a crime boss to pay off his debts…”

“Yeah?” He chuckles.” Was I the crime boss? Taking the innocent girl and ruining her?”

“Yes.” Your hand comes down on top of his and gently moves it higher. “Took her virginity and became addicted to her pussy.”

“Hmmmm and you think I’ll become addicted to yours?” He muses.

“Maybe.” You inch his hand up just enough that his fingertips can brush the lace material of your bright white panties, wondering how he’ll react to the wet patch in the center.

“It would have to be pretty good.” He warns you. “Besides, why would you want a man who will cheat on his wife?”

“I don’t think you would do it if she hadn’t pushed you this far,” you say with a shrug, gently letting go of his hand.

“That upset you.” He doesn’t ask, says it as a fact as he turns into the hotel parking lot. He didn’t choose a seedy motel, the nice, modern chain hotel will provide little luxuries and complete privacy.

You don’t say anything, you simply offer a small smile before appreciating the fact he’d clearly put thought into where you were going. “I’m not a silly little girl,” you say as he pulls into a spot, “I don’t expect you to fall in love with me or for anything to come from this, Dave. I know this just for one night.”

“And yet, you’re wearing sexy lingerie.” His hand slides back between your thighs to press against your wet clit.

“I thought you’d like it,” you admit, before moaning his name softly.

“What color is it?” He asks before he chuckles. “White. Right?”

You nod your head, feeling slightly embarrassed at how predictable you are. His demeanour is slightly sharper than before, and you can’t help but ask, “Do you not want to do this?”

“I am trying to figure out if you really want to do this.” Dave tells you seriously.

“I do.”

“Good.” He growls and pulls his hand away. “If you regret it, there’s not a fucking thing I can do after I’m buried deep in your little pussy.”

“I won’t regret it,” you say softly, before cupping his face, “I promise.” In that moment you can’t help but wonder when the last time someone was gentle with him, his body seems to immediately stiffen as your fingertips rub gentle circles into his cheeks.

Dave nods, trying not to pull away from your fingers but they feel too good against his skin. Foreign to a man who spends so much time in darkness.

“Shall we go in?” You ask with a genuine smile, “We don’t have to rush into anything.”

“I’ve already checked in.” He tells you, holding up his phone. “Digital key.”

“Perfect.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your overnight bag and step out the car, waiting for Dave to lead the way.

You are an eager thing, he has to give you that. He claims his own bag and walks around the car, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the doors.

You love the way his hand feels on you, and wonder how he's planning on taking things tonight. "I think tonight is going to be a good night," you say with a smile as he leads you to the elevators.

"Have you eaten, or were you too nervous?" He asks once you are in the elevator and the doors are closed. The button for the eighth floor is pressed and he looks over at where you are standing close to him.

"I had lunch but nothing else," you tell him, resisting the urge to thread your fingers with his.

"Do you want to eat after?" He won't feed you before. Shooting you a grin, he shrugs. "If you eat now, you might throw up."

"Sounds good," you say with a smile. "I'm never one to turn down food."

"We'll order room service." He decides.

"Perfect." The elevator arrives on your floor and he gestures for you to step out first and you wait patiently for him to lead you to your room.

Dave pulls out his phone, opening the app and walking towards the room so he can open it with the digital key.

You step into the room and admire how nice it is, the king bed in the centre of the room looks nice and inviting. He stands in the doorway and watches you as you look around, "How do you want to do this?" You ask as you spin on your heel to talk to him.

He has to admire how eager you seem to be. Smirking slightly, he lets the door clothes and then flips the lock behind him. "You tell me, sweetheart." He chuckles. "This was your demand. How do you want my cock."

"However you're willing to give it to me," you say, watching as he slowly walks towards you.

"I think I want you to strip for me." He tells you as he brushes past you to sit down in a chair that he pulls next to the bed. Arching a brow at you when he settles down.

"Yes, sir," you say, before unbuttoning your jacket and placing it on the bed. "I've never done this before." You take a few small steps until you're in front of his chair and wait for him to tell you to start.

"Take your time." He tells you. "Do it slowly."

You nod and flash him a small smile before slowly reaching behind to unzip your sundress. Letting the straps slowly fall off your shoulders as the billowy material starts to fall down your body, revealing the brand new lingerie set you had bought earlier that day.

"So innocent." He murmurs, taking in the white lace and yet there is something so dirty about you. You pushed for this, knowing he's married. You want him, however you can have him. "Hmmmm stay just like that." He tells you as he reaches for his belt.

"I got this just for you," you tell him, as your fingertips trail against the soft material. "Do you like it?"

"It's pretty." He coos, smirking as your fingers trail over your body. Something you've obviously done a time or two because you aren't shy about it. "Why don't you come open my pants for me, Princess."

"Yes sir." Walking towards him, you bite your lip in anticipation, and slowly sink down onto your knees in front of him. Your fingers hover for a few seconds before finding the button and popping it open.

Dave watches you, under hooded eyes as you bite and lick your bottom lip. Your fingers fumbling slightly as you drag his zipper down. "Take your time."

You nod your head and wait for him to lift his hips, so you drag down his pants. "What do you want me to do first?"

"What do you want to do?" He asks. "I want you to suck my cock."

"I can do that," you say, as you pull down his pants and boxers in one clean sweep. The sweetest oooooh he's ever heard comes out of you as you see his cock for the first time. Thick, long, rock hard with the tip weeping.

Dave watches you, enjoying the way your eyes widen and you unconsciously lick your lips. Innocent. At least you are innocent enough to fake it. He covers your hand with his and slowly starts to move your hand along his shaft.

"It's so thick," you say, as he helps you increase the pace, "Is it going to fit?"

"It's gonna fit. It'll be a tight little squeeze around my cock." He grunts, twitching in your hand.

"Yeah?" You ask before squeezing him a little tighter, and loving the groan he gifts you in response. "My little pussy is going to fit around this gorgeous cock like a glove."

You might be a virgin, but you've obviously touched a cock before. He grunts, wondering what little boy you touched and how quickly he came. "You are going to scream before you leave this suite."

"Yes, but only your name," you say with a little giggle. "Tell me how good your cock feels in my hand, sir."

"Sir?" His brow arches up and he chuckles. "Do you have a little bit of an authority kink?" He asks, figuring that you would be attracted to him if that was the case. He's been told he has a commanding presence.

"I don't know," you admit with a shrug, still stroking his cock. "I guess I just like the idea of you in charge."

"Open your mouth." He reaches out and grasps your chin. "Taste my cock."

Your mouth falls open immediately, tongue dipping out to lip the head. You've never sucked cock before but you've watched a lot of videos and read a lot of smut, so you remember not to take too much at once and to swallow around him.

"G-good." He grunts as your tongue flutters over the tip and your lips wrap around him. "How do I taste?"

You pull off him with a loud pop, "First cock I've ever sucked, and I already know that no other will compare… Delicious."

He grunts, and his cock twitches in your hand. "Good. Suck it some more." He orders roughly.

You take the base of him in your hand again and wrap your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks before bobbing up and down slowly, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs as he groans in pleasure.

Dave lets you work at your own pace, slowly exploring him and getting comfortable with his size. You are probably soaking through your panties as you kneel in front of him. "Do you like that? Sucking my cock."

Not wanting to stop, you simply look up at him through your lashes and nod. You take him a little deeper and moan at the stretch, eyes filling with water as fat tears threaten to stain your cheeks.

He can't take his eyes off of you, eyes watering and about to spill down. He wants to see it. He rocks his hips up and pushes his cock deeper into your mouth and grunting when you gag.

You splutter around him, tears now streaming down your face as he grunts something filthy at you. It's overwhelming but you want more, the need to be at his mercy growing stronger as your panties get wetter.

"Slide back." Dave orders with a growl, suddenly wanting to be on his feet over you. "Now."

You obey his command immediately, letting him fall out of your mouth before sliding back and waiting patiently for your next order.

"Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." He stands, his pants shuffling as he moves forward, stroking his cock that is covered with your saliva. "I'm gonna fuck your throat, pretty girl."

You swallow hard at his words and the filthy smirk that spreads across his face tells you that he heard it. You place your hands in your lap and open your mouth, making eye contact as you stick out your tongue.

He smirks at how quickly you follow his order. How eagerly you obey him. "Good girl." He grunts, slapping his cock onto your tongue and then rocking his hips forward to thrust into your mouth.

One of your hands comes up and rests gently on his thigh as he starts to fuck into your mouth, you focus on hollowing you cheeks and swallowing around him. You gag around him as he starts to pick up his pace and you think he likes this, you think he likes seeing your innocent face overwhelmed by his thick cock.

Dave works up a quick pace, moving his hand to the back of your head and pressing you harder onto his cock. Starting to really fuck your mouth to see how much you will drool and choke on him.

The noises you make are filthy, your fingernails dig into his thighs as you gasp for breath, after a few moments you push your head back and pull off him with a loud gasp. Still connected to him with a line of saliva.

"Good girl." He pulls his hips back and he leans down, opening his own mouth and spitting, wanting you to swallow his spit.

"Delicious." You rise up so you're standing toe to toe with him, and you decide to make a move. Wrapping your arms around his neck, and pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.

"Why do I like every other man is just going to be a disappointment when compared to you?"

"Because they are." He chuckles, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. "Now, stretch out on the bed and watch while I get more comfortable."

"Yes sir." Climbing onto the bed, you make yourself comfortable. Letting your fingertips trail down your body as you watch him.

Dave isn't wearing a button down shirt, so he doesn't get to show you how slowly he can undress. But he is making you wait as he slides his shirt up over his head.

"You're so sexy," you whisper, as he starts to shred his clothing.

He chuckles, flattered by your praise because he knows he's not in as good of shape as he used to be. No need when you aren't in the military anymore. He kicks off his shoes and strips off the pants that are already around his ankles.

"What do you want to do to me first?" You ask, as you push yourself up onto your elbows and admire the view.

"Undo your top." He grunts as he starts moving towards the bed. "Want to see your tits."

You reach around and undo your bra, letting the straps fall off your shoulders before pulling it off.

"Fuck." He hisses, imagining biting and sucking on the sweet little nipples you've exposed. "I'll enjoy cumming on them." He tells you. "Turn over, your ass up in the air and your face down on the bed."

You do as he commands, ignoring the way your cheeks burn a little. Waiting patiently to see what he's going to do next.

Kneeling on the bed behind you, he reaches out to caress your ass, enjoying the sight of your panties stretched over your ass. Swatting your cheek, one then the other sharply with his palm. "Fucking dirty."

"You going to keep these panties?" You ask as you lift your face off the pillow. "Something special for you to remember this night."

"Might." He hums. "Might just tie you up with them." He threatens lightly, knowing that he won't.

"You can do anything you want." You say as he softly massages your ass. "Are you taking me like this first?"

"No." He's not going to take you like this. His fingers curl under the waist of your panties and he starts to drag them down.

"Ohhh," you moan as he exposes your dripping wet core. "Dave."

"Nothing to moan about yet." He huffs, lowering himself down to eye level with your cunt. "Yet." Lunging forward, he spreads your cheeks and dives into your cunt from behind.

"Ohhh fuck," you yelp, his tongue beginning the most delicious assault on your cunt. "Don't stop."

He grunts, not bothering to pull away to tell you he has no intention of stopping. Making sure his tongue curls filthily. Licking you from clit to puckered hole.

"Daaaave," you scream, as he starts lapping against your clit, your thighs begin to shake as he pushes you towards paradise.

He actually enjoys eating pussy. Never minding it when his wife wanted until it began to be a one sided thing where she would make excuse after excuse not to suck his dick. So he had stopped doing it. Now, he is ravenous, licking through your folds and greedy to hear your moans.

"How do I taste?" you ask, mimicking his own questions from moments before.

He grunts, flicking his tongue against your clit and slapping your thigh. Enjoying your cheekiness as he works his jaw, wanting you to scream.

"Tell me," you beg, as he starts sucking your clit, pulling you closer and closer to that edge.

"Like Christmas." He grunts, pulling his lips away for a moment before he slides his tongue back up to your quivering entrance to tongue fuck you.

The noise that you make is indescribable, filthy yet so innocent as he starts to thrust his tongue in and out of you. Your finger finds your throbbing clit and you start to rub slow circles into it as he takes you apart with his tongue.

Dave's hand smacks yours, pulling it away. You aren't going to cum from anything you do to your body if you are in bed with him. You wanted him, you're going to get him.

You yelp as he slaps away your hand and he growls into your core. "Dave, please," you beg, over and over, not sure what you're pleading for but needing more.

Instead of chastising you, he gives you what you need. Sliding his tongue out of your dripping, quivering cunt, he moves back down to your clit and pushes two thick fingers inside you to replace his tongue.

The stretch from his fingers makes you sink your teeth into your lip, his are so much thicker than yours and it's almost too much. His tongue laps at you like he's a starved man, and it isn't long before your arms are threatening to give way and your thighs are shaking from the pleasure ripping its way through your body, and you're unable to speak even a single word as pleasure overwhelms you.

Dave hums against your clit, providing that slight vibration against your bundle of nerves as he sucks again. Not able to see your face, he's feeling and hearing your reaction and it's something beautiful and satisfying.

"I think I'm gonn-oohhh," you gasp before cumming hard on his tongue and around his fingers. Squeezing them so tightly it swear you hear him groan. "Fuck."

He isn't greedy right now. He doesn't pull his fingers back and immediately move. Working you through it with slow pumps of his fingers and flicks of his tongue.

"All other men are officially ruined," you breathe out with a giggle, coming down from your high and loving the unexpected soft attention from him as you do so.

He chuckles as he pulls away, straightening and curling his fingers slightly before he pulls them out of your cunt and dragging you up off the bed to offer them to you to taste.

You wonder if he heard you wince as he removed his fingers, not used to the thickness of him. A smile spreads across your face before you take his fingers in your mouth, sucking gently before pulling off with a pop. "I read a story once, where she tasted them mixed together... Can we try that later?"

He hums, smirking slightly as his other hand cups your breast. "You are a curious little slut." He teases, not meaning it negatively. He likes that you are curious. That you want to try all your desires. Pre-cum from his cock smears across your lower back.

"I plan on making the most of my one night with you," you admit, before turning around to face him.

"Interesting." He smirks and squeezes your ass. "Now, do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes, please." You reply excitedly, "Fuck me, sir."

It's not exactly gentle, the way he pushes you down onto the bed, although he makes sure you are comfortable before he follows. Sliding between your quickly spreading thighs, his hips are cradled by yours and he lays his throbbing cock against your mound as he slowly gives you his weight, letting you feel him spread over you.

"Dave," you moan, as he throbs against your clit. Nerves dancing around in your tummy as you get ready to take your first ever cock, "Please."

"Please what?" He teases again, brushing his lips against yours while he rocks his hips playfully. "You want something, you have to tell me."

"Kiss me," it's not what you were begging for, but the way his lips brushed against yours, has you needing more.

He knows that wasn't what you meant to say, but he chuckles. Giving into your pretty begging, he kisses you and slides his tongue along your lips.

You can't help but moan against his lips, before opening yours and letting his tongue gain entry. Your hand finds its way into his hair and you press him closer, the kiss becoming more frantic as you do so.

He doesn't rush you. Making out like he's not aching to sink into your virgin walls and claim you. His tongue caresses yours and he groans into your mouth.

Your spare hand trails down his back, your fingernails lightly digging in and leaving small scratches and marks wherever they can. "Fuck me, Dave," you beg softly against his lips, before resuming your kiss.

Pulling his hips back slightly, Dave moves his cock with his hand, rubbing it up and down your folds before he presses against your entrance. "With pleasure."

You take a deep breath, ready for him to shove his cock into you, but he's much slower than you're anticipating. Pushing in inch by inch and letting you adjust to the width of him.

Even if his hand was forced, he's not going to make this any harsher than it needs to be. Slowly rocking his hips as he fills you. Keeping his lips on yours as he gathers you closely.

It makes you hiss as he stretches you open, your fingernails digging a little harsher into his skin until he fills you to the hilt.

"Not a virgin anymore." He murmurs against your lips, making sure that he doesn't move while you get used to the feeling of him inside you.

"Thank you," you reply, "You feel so big, Dave."

"I am big." He hums, not boasting but he's got a good sized cock.

"And you’re all mine tonight," you say with a giggle, "You can move. I want you to feel good."

Making a sound of agreement, Dave starts to move Grinding deeper before pulling his hips back to start a slow and steady rhythm. While he wants to wreck you, there is time for that later. He needs you to get used to his cock and enjoy the ride.

You're surprised at how quickly the pleasure drowns out the ache of pain. "Feels so good," you murmur as he slightly increases his pace, searching for that spot inside of you. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

He rolls his hips down, rewarded when you squeal and your walls clench down around his cock. "There it is." He groans with a grin on his face as he makes sure to hit against that spot again and again with every thrust.

You swear that you can see stars as he notches against a part of you that you've never been able to reach. Your walls greedily suction around him as he pulls out your pleasure with ease. "Tell me how I feel," you beg, needing to hear how good you're making him feel.

"Tightest little cock sleeve I've ever been in." He groans, being purposefully filthy and moaning in your ear. "So goddamn hot and tight around me." He hisses when you clench down around him in response to his filthy words. "Gonna fuck you all night, just leave you on my cock."

"Please," you gasp out at his words, camping down around him as he notches against paradise. "Fill me up, make this pussy yours."

"Gonna." He grits out, clenching his teeth together and snarling when you wrap your legs around his waist. His next thrust is harsher than he meant, unable to hold back as he surges forward and fills you with his cock.

You cry out as he snaps his hips, and he immediately covers your mouth with his. Gripping onto to you as he rocks his hips, fucking into that spot whilst possessively claiming your lips.

He keeps his thrusts sharper, enjoying the way that you respond and clench around him. Loving how your nails scratch down his back and mark him up for Carol to see. He groans into your mouth and reaches down to hitch your leg higher on his hip, wanting to get even deeper.

You feel yourself teetering on the edge, seconds away from falling over. The sound of him grunting your name sends you flying, white hot pleasure ripping through you as you scream his name, your cunt clamps down hard around his throbbing cock before flooding around him.

He hadn't expected you to cum so quickly but he groans, rocking you through it with the same pace that had worked you up to your orgasm. Watching as you thrash under him and feeling the small catch in his throat when you whimper his name after screaming it.

"Fuck," you choke out, as he continues to chase his high. Your pussy still fluttering around his throbbing cock as you come down from your high. "You're incredible," you murmur against his lips, "So fucking incredible."

"You're incredible." He grunts, knowing that you want reassurance that you are good. "Gonna make me cum if I'm not careful."

"I want you to cum," you say, bumping your nose against his,

"Fuck, I want to feel you dripping from me.

You are filthy and he loves that. Twitching inside you as he chuckles. "Then you'll drip me while I recover." He promises, quickening his pace to one that he wanted to fuck you at.

He punches the air from your lungs as he chases his high, fucking you into the mattress as you bite down onto his shoulders uncaring about the marks you'll leave. You want to tell him that he feels better than you imagined, how all the books and videos on Bellessa House didn't prepare you for just how incredible it all feels.

Dave's hands run down your thighs, pulling them up more as he snaps his hips down, fucking furiously into you.Wanting to fuck away the traitorous thoughts in his head. He grunts. "Fuck. Shit-you- tight."

The pace is dizzying, the pleasure accompanied by a little twang of pain making your head spin. Opening your eyes you concentrate on his face, his pupils blown wide with lust as he grunts over and over, his pace getting a little sloppier with every thrust as he nears his high.

He feels his body starting to tighten. Balls pulling up against his body and he hisses out a curse as his hips stutter. "Fuck." Thrusting twice more, he grinds his cock deep and moans your name as he paints your walls with hot spurts of cum, emptying himself into you.

You moan louder with every spurt of cum that he fills you up with, never wanting to lose this feeling of being caught beneath him. "That was incredible," you murmur after a few moments of panting and catching breaths. "Thank you."

He hums and looks down at you with a small smirk. "You're welcomed?" He asks. "Maybe I should be thanking you."

"No," you say with a little shake of your head, "That was perfect. Better than I had ever imagined. How are you feeling?" You ask as he hooks your leg around his hip and lays down next to you, keeping his cock nestled inside.

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your question. "I just took your virginity." He reminds you. "I should be asking you how you feel." You shrug slightly and he sighs. "Surprisingly good for being the first time l've cheated on my wife." He tells you.

"Do you regret it?" You ask, stroking his face and trying to ignore the way it stung a little as he rolled his eyes at you. "Are you happy you came?"

"I don't regret it." He promises, leaning into your touch. "And I am happy that I came. Pun completely intended." He jokes.

"Good," you say with a smile, your fingertips rubbing the softest circles into his face. "I'm really happy that you came, I see how stressed you've been... And I just feel the need to take some of that away from you."

"You see that I'm stressed?" His brow furrows in surprise, sure that he had carried the stress well. At least Carol had not asked about it in a long time.

"You carry it on your shoulders," you say, before pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose. "And in your eyes."

"Why would you care?" He seriously doesn't understand why you would want to ease his stress.

You immediately notice the change in him, and you worry you've overstepped. "You just work so hard... I'm sorry."

"No." Dave reaches for your hand when you pull it back, keeping it on his face. "I don't mean it like that." He explains. "I just don't know why you would care about me."

"Why not? You work so hard to look after your family." You resume drawing the little circles on his face with your fingertips, "I'm not saying I didn't want to do this for selfish reasons, but really I just wanted to give you some relief."

It's quite possibly the most touching thing that someone has done for him in a long time. Despite the headache he got from Carol, he feels relaxed. He hums and rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. "Then you need to keep relieving me tonight." He grunts, eyes closed and a hint of a smile on his face.

"However you need," you say with a giggle, before bending over and recapturing his lips with a bruising kiss.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly, wanting to make sure that he hadn't hurt you.

"I'm really fucking good," you say, before nudging your nose against his. "Better than I have been in a long time."

"Good." He accepts that, sighing softly as he wonders what the fuck will happen now. He's enjoying being here with you. Liking how you are soft and sweet with him.

"Do you wanna order room service, baby?" You ask, loving the way he pulls you even closer. "See if I can make you cum again before it arrives?"

"What do you want to eat?" He asks. "Might be harder for you to make me cum the second time around."

"I'm up for a challenge, and mhmmm... breakfast sounds good."

"Are you one that can eat breakfast anytime?" He asks with a chuckle, thinking of all the times Alice demands pancakes for dinner.

"I could eat you anytime," you giggle, "But yes. IHOP is my idea of a romantic date."

He snorts and shakes his head. "So I shouldn't tell you that I make better pancakes, hmmm?"

"Not unless you're planning on making me some," you murmur against his lips, "Order food, baby."

"You have to move off me." He reminds you in a teasing tone as he squeezes your hips.

"Hurry," you say, before moving off him and shooting him an exaggerated pout. "Extra maple syrup."

The menu is by the phone on the desk across from the bed.

Striding over to it nude, Dave is very aware of your eyes on him as he picks up the receiver and connects to the kitchen to place the order.

Your eyes roam up and down his body, taking in every delicious inch. He's gorgeous. Broad and begging to be touched... tasted.

He orders you pancakes, extra maple syrup with eggs and a mimosa. A steak for himself, with eggs and toast to keep with the breakfast theme. Turning back towards you as he finishes up the order. "Anything else?"

"Just you," you say with a smirk.

Rolling his eyes, he pulls the phone back up to his mouth.

"That's it. Thanks." Hanging up, he watches you watch him for a moment, finding the fascination in your eyes slightly thrilling.

"Come here," you tell him softly.

He could resist, probably should reestablish the power dynamic but he finds that he doesn't want to. Humming quietly, he walks towards you, keeping his eyes on you.

"Kiss me, Dave York, and then tell me what you want me to do to you."

You are an intoxicating mixture of submissive and demanding, making it hard to judge what will come out of your mouth. "If you want me to fuck you again, you better suck my cock."

The moment he's laying down, you're crawling down the bed and positioning yourself between his legs. He's half hard and you feel your core get wetter at the thought of him hardening in your mouth. "With pleasure."

Eagerly, you take his cock into your mouth, making him groan before you pull off of him. He grunts, but is satisfied when you lick up the length of him. "Fuck. Greedy little thing, aren't you?" He huffs happily.

You hum happily around his length, gently sucking his cock and loving how it feels as he gets harder and harder in your mouth.

Dave reaches down, his hand smoothing over your hand and around to your jaw. Feeling it open and work as you bob up and down on his cock. "Does it turn you on?"

You nod yes, too greedy to pull off to speak. This is the only night you get him and you refuse to let a moment go to waste. You hollow your cheeks like you've seen in porn and moan in pleasure around him.

"Less suction." He urges you, smirking down at your wide eyes.

"Don't suck my soul out. I don't have one."

You pull off him and shake your head, "Yes you do. No one loves their kids the way you love those girls without a soul, Dave."

"They are my kids." He tells you. "Of course I love them."

"You have a soul, Dave," you say again softly, before taking him back in your mouth. He's fully hard and you're on a race against the clock to get him to cum again before food arrives. You swallow over and over as you take him as deep as you can, trying hard not to gag as you start bobbing up and down.

He watches, groaning when he's bucking his hips up slightly.

"Good girl." He moans your name quietly, feeling his body responding to your eager mouth.

You gently stroke the parts of him you can't fit into your mouth, wanting him to flood your mouth with his cum, needing to make this moment just about him. You double down on your efforts while remaining conscious that you've only done this once before earlier this evening. The groans he rewards you with spurring you on as his hips start to rock in and out of your greedy little mouth.

"Do you want me to cum in your mouth?" Dave grunts, wondering if you want him to fill your pussy again or mouth this time.

The smile that spreads across your face even with your mouth stuffed full of his cock makes him chuckle. You gently nod, not wanting to hurt him, still bobbing up and down. The ache between your legs growing stronger and stronger with every passing second.

His groan of your name is strained, nearly unheard as it's forced from his throat with all the air in his lungs. His body tensing up and his balls pulling tight against his body for the second time tonight.

You hum in delight as he starts to spill down your throat, one of his hands holding your head still as he rocks his hips.

The salty tang of him is addictive and you hope it's not the only time time he'll finish in your mouth tonight. You swallow as much as you can, feeling some slip from the corner of your lips and he fills you up. Each one of his thrusts coming with a raspy groan of pleasure.

You gently pull off him as he hisses from the overstimulation, making eye contact, you gather up the cum that's dripping down your chin and neck and bring it up to your lips, being sure to swallow every drop. "You taste delicious, Mr York."

The knock at the door interrupts you both and Dave springs up. Reaching for his boxers as he looks back at you. "Get under the covers."

"Yes sir," you say with a little giggle, loving how possessive he is.

Dave opens the door, sure that it's not Carol coming to scream at you, he had not let her know where he was taking you. The waiter nods and he backs up to allow him to bring the tray in. "On the table is fine." He tells him, looking at where you're peeking out over the covers.

You avoid eye contact with the waiter, focusing on watching Dave. Your eyes scanning his broad shoulders and feeling yourself grow more desperate to feel him again. You whisper a soft 'thank you' to the waiter as he puts the tray down and makes his way back towards the door.

Only after the lock is flipped again does Dave start to chuckle. "That man wanted to see you so bad, I thought he was going to strain his eyes."

You whip off the covers and raise an eyebrow, "Do you wanna call him back?" You tease as he shakes his head.

"Think I'll keep you to myself." He decides, motioning you over. "Come eat. Don't get dressed."

"Please do," you say as you slide off the bed and stroll over to him. Unashamed of your nakedness in front of him, because you feel so at ease. "I'm starved."

"Good." He winks and starts to pull the covers off the dishes. "If you spill syrup on yourself, I'll just lick it off you."

"Sounds like you're trying to make me spill it." You take a mouthful of the soft fluffy pancakes and moan in delight,

"Second best thing I've tasted this evening."

"What's the first?" He asks, smirking slightly and finding your flirty, playful humor to be far more enjoyable than he had thought you would be. You always seemed so nervous around him.

"I think you know," you say, before reaching over and stealing a fry from his plate. "How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly good." Dave tells you, smirking slightly and pushing his plate towards you. "I don't like being forced to do something, so I had thought I would resent tonight. But I have enjoyed myself."

"Did you really feel forced?" You ask, feeling your face drop.

"I wouldn't have said shit, I can't believe I even suggested it;

I think it was because she was being so mean."

"No." He shakes his head, wishing he hadn't said anything to you. Not liking the way your face has fallen and you look upset. "I don't feel forced. You gave me the excuse to touch you."

"Good," you say quietly, biting down on your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. "I-uh, you know you can leave if you want to? I'll sign anything, I’ll do anything, but I think you already know that I'd never do anything that you could get implicated in and get you in trouble."

"I'm not leaving." Dave assures you. "I think we are past signing anything, don't you?"

"Yes," you reply, a small smile briefly lifting your lips upwards, before you dig back into your food.

"Good." He smirks slightly as he watches you eat. You've got a good appetite.

"What do you want to do after this?" You ask, between bites of pancakes. "I could make you cum again. With my hand this time?"

"You are the one who should tell me how this is going to go." He reminds you. "You are the one without the experience. What do you want to do?"

"I want to ride you."

"Then finish your dinner and I'Il let you climb on top."

"You'll tell me what to do?" You ask, a little embarrassed. "I mean I've seen it in porn, but I want you to feel good."

Dave snorts, nearly choking on his drink and looks over at you to see if you are being serious. "Sweetheart, if your pussy is around my dick, I feel good."

"That's it?" You ask, all wide eyed and hopeful. Gently placing the fork down onto your plate.

He nods, watching you preen under the praise. "You could sit on my cock while you eat and I would be happy."

"Right now, sir?" Your voice softly begs, as you stare into those dark brown eyes.

You continuously surprise him. He pushes back from the table and lifts his hips to take off his boxers. "Come sit."

You push your plate across the table before standing up and stepping towards him. "Yes sir." Grateful that you're still slick enough for him to slide in, you slowly lower yourself as he guides his cock towards your entrance. "Fuck. How do you feel thicker like this?"

The angle is better but he's too busy groaning your name to tell you that. Gripping your hips and closing his eyes in bliss.

"Feel good baby?" You ask, with a giggle. Feeling his thighs tighten beneath you as you clench around him.

"Feels good." Dave breathes out. "How does it feel for you?"

He asks, sliding his hands up to explore your body shamelessly as you sit on his throbbing cock.

"Incredible." Shamelessly you lean your head back and rest it on his shoulder, loving the way his hands feel on you.

"I think we are doing a good job of making the most of this one night," you say before grinding down on him. Clenching as tight as you can around him.

He hisses, jaw clenching at how good it feels. How tight you are gripping him. "Gonna make sure you remember this." He grunts.

"Fuck," you groan, as you rock your hips. His grip on you getting tighter as you rest your head back on his shoulder. "I know you are."

His hand possessively comes back around the front of your waist and holds you tight. Fusing you to him as he snaps his hips hard and fast to see your reaction in his sudden change of pace. Loving the innocent yet filthy moan of his name that he steals from your throat.

Dave digs his fingers into your waist, wanting to leave tender marks for you to remember him by. Bruises that you can press and remember how he had held you, fucked you. "Another moan." He demands, driving his hips up again. "More."

You give into his demand so easily, letting the room fill with the sounds of your pleasure. You push down and meet each thrust of his hips with your own, feeling pleasure course through your body, making your eyes roll back and your clit throb.

This has been to get back at Carol, to give you what you want to shut you up, but right now, this is for him. Watching you start to cum is his own personal little pleasure.

Knowing that he is making your eyes roll back is a thrill.

"Dave," you mumble softly, feeling the coil inside of you threaten to snap and throw you over that edge as he fucks up into you. "Please." You start to beg over and over as it starts to feel all too much but not enough at once.

He hums, continuing to rock up into you at a harsh pace.

Wondering what you are asking him. For him to cum, for him to make you cum again. He hisses out your name and drags you down for a kiss.

His lips are possessive and rough but you love it. His hand grips your jaw as he kisses you hard while continuing to grind his hips.

You murmur his name softly against his plush lips, before interlacing your fingers with his and bringing his hand up to your breast. "Make me yours."

He follows your lead, groping your breast and tangling his tongue against yours again. Taking control and wrapping his other arm around you and lifting you up onto the table, scattering the dishes.

"Tell me what you need," you murmur against his lips, as he tightens the grip he has on you and as you wrap legs around his waist.

Dave shoots to his feet, crowding over you. "Let me-" he grabs your thighs and pulls them up onto your waist. "Hang on."

"Yes sir," you say with a little giggle. "What are we doing?"

You watch his face, as he stares down at you, clearly enjoying the view. The urge to reach up and gently brush his cheek becomes overwhelming but you figure that may be overstepping a line, so you wait patiently for him to make his next move.

He stares for a few moments, rolling his jaw a few times before letting himself go."Tight little pussy," he growls quietly, before cupping your cunt and swiftly moving his hand up to your chest. "Perfect tits." He squeezes your breast roughly for a few moments and quickly let's go so he can grip your trembling jaw.

"Enthusiastic little mouth, you're being absolutely perfect for me... aren't you? Are you trying to make it difficult for me? Make it impossible to keep you for just one night?" You blink up at him, all doe eyed and innocent, staying completely still and silent as his hands roam your body.

Mumbling filth and praises and reminding you that no else has ever touched you how he's touching you right now, no one else has ever buried themselves deep in your perfect cunt and tasted your cum.

"I was furious," Dave admits after a few moments of silence, with a shake of his head. “Another careless mess she left me to clear up. But fuck, this time I might thank her when I get home." He tucks his thumb underneath your jaw and tilts your head up a little, before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is quick, but it's consuming, the kind that makes you curl your toes and gasp for air... the kind that leaves your body begging for more. "I don't think I've felt this relaxed in years, or this happy."

"Dave," you breathe out and he immediately shushes you and presses another kiss to your lips.

"Will you let me show you how thankful I am, baby girl?"

"Yes," you breathe out, the easiest question you've ever had to answer.

You're still comfortably perched on the table, and he takes his seat in front of you again before he spreads your legs and places them over his shoulders.

The view has his cock twitching. Your pretty little pussy glistening with both of your arousal, his cum still slowly dripping from you. The heat of his breath coats your cunt and it sends the most delicious shiver down your spine as he teases what's to come.

"Should I lick this pretty little clit?" He murmurs against your thigh before gently sinking his teeth into it, "Or should I shove my tongue into that pretty little asshole? Watch you squirm as I eat your ass?"

He watches the way your chest starts to heave up and down, loving the innocence sketched across your face. "I'm going to lick your clit, and have you cum on my face and then you're going to taste yourself from my lips." He decides out loud, but not before gently biting your thigh again.

Your innocence is so appealing. Your enthusiasm for him is intoxicating. Dave hasn't felt this good about sex in years, since Alice was born. Definitely not as eager to eat Carol out as he is you.

Every flick of his tongue is calculated, he's taking his time, wanting to watch you come undone slowly and not wanting to rush this. He can tell you're eager for more, and you'll get it, but right now every swipe of his tongue is designed to make you beg for more. He needs to hear it, and the louder you'll be for him, the more he'll give to you.

There's something completely thrilling about taking someone's pleasure and making it his own. Controlling it.

Controlling you through it. It's just as satisfying as pulling a trigger, in some ways more so, because the people he fucks know him.

A soft whimper of his name stumbles from your lips as he methodically licks at your clit, loving every tremble of your thighs and shaky exhale he's pulling from you. "P-please," you beg quietly and wantonly as he picks up his pace a little bit.

Your fingers gently weave through his hair, pulling him closer to you as he flicks and sucks at your clit, groaning in pleasure as you moan his name.

There's something innocent about your face as he works you up. Even as dirty as it is, you still look innocent. Making him more determined to pull you apart.

You can feel that little coil inside of you threatening to snap, as your thighs start to shake uncontrollably. The sound of his groans paired with the expert flick of his tongue making you see stars and moan his name so sweetly.

He growls into your core, as your fingers twist in his hair as everything starts to go dark. Your eyes rolling back into your head as you teeter over that delicious edge.

"Cum," he growls, lips still attached to your clit and you can't deny him. Your thighs tighten around his head as your thrown so deliciously over that edge, your back arching as you press his head closer to your pussy.

Dave groans, changing from sucking on your clit to lapping delicately at your folds. Tasting the sweetness that pours from you as you shake.

You weakly call out his name as your orgasm continues to course throughout you. His mouth is still working its magic, as you tremble beneath him, and your fingers start rubbing soft circles into the back of his head.

"You. Are. Amazing." You say, before erupting in a fit of giggles, fingers gripping on to the edge of the table to steady yourself. "Is it my turn to take care of you?"

He doesn't answer, instead he does exactly what he said he was going to do and presses his lips to yours, letting you taste your arousal straight from his lips. Keeping your mouth pressed to his as he explores your mouth enthusiastically, loving the way he can pull those sweet little moans from you with just his kiss.

"Finish eating baby girl," he says with a wink, "The night is still young and I've not had my fill of you just yet."

You pull yourself up from the table, and take a seat next to his, smiling at the way he immediately pulls your chair closer and you both eat your dessert in a comfortable silence.

"Dave... Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he grunts back, squeezing your thigh slightly.

"Why do you put up with it? I understand you have the girls but everyone knows they worship the ground you walk on." You say with a shaky breath, scared of overstepping a line.

"Baby, you deserve to have someone waiting at home that'll treat you right. That'll show you just how grateful they are for you. How much they love you."

Dave frowns slightly, punching his brow together and he wonders why you care so much, although it's nice that you do. "Carol- she knows the darkest parts of me." He tells you. "Things that would give you nightmares and run away screaming."

"You know the darkest parts of her," you counter back.

"You're clearly working overtime to clear them up. So she can't use dark secrets against you in court." Your hand finds his and you lace your fingers with his, "You waltz into my house and insinuated that you could get rid of every trace of me, Dave, and here I am.. Am I running right now?"

You make a good point and Dave slowly shakes his head. “Why?” He asks quietly. “I’m married, I’m a killer. You should be running. You shouldn’t have given me your virginity.”

“I have no regrets,” you say with a shrug, noticing the change in him. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“Don’t say that about yourself.” He huffs. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

You move closer to him, and place your hands on his chest. “And there’s nothing wrong with you, Dave.”

He stares at you for a moment and contemplates your point. “And you think I should leave Carol.” He is talking out loud. “I would get less time with my kids and she’d be a bitch about things.”

“You deserve to be happy, and you don’t need to worry about not seeing the girls. Anyone would happily stand up and testify that you’re an incredible father, Dave.” you say with a smile. “And whatever happens, no matter how tough it gets, you can always call me. Anytime you need to talk… or if you need a little stress relief… maybe I could find a way to help with that?”

Dave arches a brow at your suggestion, basically an invitation to continue this if he wanted. “Yeah?” The smug smirk returns. “Liked it that much, huh?” You are far from a slut, but the idea of making you *his* slut is broadly appealing.

“Dave,” you say, before biting down on your lip for a few seconds and then letting go, “I fucking loved it. The things I want you to do to me… I’d let you do anything. You are intoxicating.”

He looks at you for a moment and then chuckles. “You might just be worth it.” He muses, reaching out and cupping your cheek. Patting it lightly and then gripping your chin. His phone starts to buzz in his pants pocket on the floor and he shakes his head when your eyes slide over there to the pile. “Just leave it. Let her stew.” He decides. “She’ll fuck up.” The prediction is an easy one. “She always does.”

“I’d really like you to fuck me again, Mr. York,” you say with a giggle ignoring the buzzing as he instructed, your chin still comfortably nestled in his hand. “Do you think you’ve got another round in you?” You tease as you gently squeeze his cock, loving the way he hisses in response.

“You’re gonna be a brat.” Dave growls. “I can tell. You fuck a girl one time and now she’s addicted.” He’s teasing, known that he’s going to fuck you again as soon as he gets hard. As long as you aren’t sore.

“Are you surprised?” You tease back, “How could I not have gotten addicted, baby? You are delicious. And yes. I’ll be brat if I have to be.” You press your lips to his and gently bite down on his bottom lip. “The things I’m going to beg you to do to me.”

“Like what?” He wants to know how dirty you are, what you want. “What would you beg me to do to you? Darkest little secret.”

You feel your cheeks burn as he stares at you, ready to hear all the filthy thoughts you’ve had about him. “You could tie me up,” you say quietly, “Keep me tied up until you’ve used me for as long as you want. Cover me in your cum.”

“*Nasty*.” He smirks and gives a small chuckle. “I think you would like that, wouldn’t you?” It’s interesting that you would have such filthy dreams when you were just so innocent. His cock twitches and he watches your eyes fall to his groin.

“I want you to use me for your own pleasure,” you say, as you gently rub his cock. “However you want.”

He groans quietly and starts to harden under your touch. “You sore?”

“A little,” you admit, “But nothing I can’t handle.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admits quietly and sincerely. He’s a dick, and an asshole, but he’s not a sadist.

“I’ll tell you if you need to stop,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want you.”

“Get on your knees.” He orders. “Show me your cunt.”

“I love how filthy you are,” you giggle, before obeying his command.

"I'm a dirty guy." He admits, reaching out and spreading your cheeks to see all of you.

"And all mine for the night." You say, moaning gently as his fingertips drag through your folds.

The phone buzzes again and he doesn't pay it any attention as he starts to push his fingers inside you. Curling them up to press deep.

You moan his name, nuzzling your face in his neck as he works magic with his fingers. "God. I might not let you leave."

He smirks because he hasn't told you to turn around, but you couldn't resist getting close to him again. "I might not go."

"Seems like i'm not the only one who's got addicted," you tease, between breathy moans.

"Hard to resist when you are so easy." He snorts. "When you're giving it away, why wouldn't I take it?"

"Easy?" You say, pushing his arm away. "Maybe I won't give it away if that's what you think."

"Hey, I was teasing." He frowns, but he drops his hand when you push him away.

"Make it up to me," you say, a smile spreading across your face to let him know you were teasing.

He huffs and shoots you a halfhearted glare. "You're not funny." He grumbles.

"You're sexy when you're grumpy." You say, grabbing his hand and leading it back towards your cunt.

"Brat." He huffs, but his fingers still find their way back inside you. Perhaps pushing a little harder than necessary, but you moan anyway.

"Your brat," you breathe out, as he starts pumping his fingers and finding that magic spot with ease. "Make me cum and then give me your cock."

"How about I give you my cock and make you cum on it?" He challenges, continuing to finger you roughly and he reaches out with his other hand to slap your ass.

"That sounds perfect," you say with a grin, "Do you like knowing that you're the only man to have ever touched me like this?"

"Fuckin' love it." He admits with a low growl.

"The only man I'd let touch me like this," you admit quietly

He doesn't say anything, but he hears you. His touch turns more possessive, commanding on your body as he works you up.

"I'm close," you choke out, as the delicious coil inside of you threatens to snap. "I would let you do anything to me, Dave. Anything.”

“Then cum for me.” Dave orders, slapping your ass again as you clench down on his fingers.

“Yes sir,” you say, before rocking your hips a little, chasing his fingers and your high. Feeling your pussy possessively pull his fingers back in as your walls flutter around them. “Tell me I'm yours.” You beg, wanting to hear him claim you.

“You’re mine.” He groans. “I marked you, claimed you. Mine.”

“All yours, Dave,” you whimper as your orgasm begins to overwhelm you. “Yours.” You cum hard, a steady stream of arousal coating his hand and wrist as you whisper his name before falling forward onto his chest. Your arms wrap around him, holding him gently as your breaths grow less rapid, your clit still pulsating and your cunt dripping as you come down from your high. It's surprising how comfortable you are with him, feeling nothing but content with him seeing you at your most vulnerable. He had said not long before that you should have never given him your virginity, but you disagree and in this moment you know you could never regret a single moment of any of being with him.

"How do you want me?" You ask quietly, cupping your hands around his jaw.

Dave pulls back slightly as he considers your question. His dark eyes narrowing slightly as he starts to realize that you might have done him a very large favor by demanding to spend a night with him. He had grown complacent, used to dealing with Carol's shit. Living in an honestly unhappy marriage because of the girls and because he knows that she would make his life hell. "Permanently." He decides.

"Sounds like you got addicted to this pussy after all," you say with a giggle, before pressing a kiss to his lips.

"It's a good pussy." He snorts, smirking against your lips.

"You wanna sleep? Or do you wanna fuck me again?" You ask, as he wraps his arms around you just a little tighter.

"Sleep," he says, before placing a quick kiss on your lips. "If you're good, I'll wake you up with my cock." He smirks when you whimper and settles down with you in his arms. "Sleep, baby."

"Goodnight, Dave," you mumble softly before falling into the deepest and most comfortable sleep you've had in ages. Feeling warmer and safer than you ever have, nestled up in his arms.

The justification for the way that he rolls you over in your sleep and spreads your legs is simple. The night isn't over.

Neither one of you have left the room and the sun still isn't quite yet peeked over the horizon. Allowing him to fully reason why there's nothing wrong with lining up and pushing inside your tight cunt slowly to watch your eyes start to move under their lids as you start to break free from sleep.

"D-Dave," you stutter incoherently, as he presses against something devastating inside of you. Still fighting sleep as he begins to overwhelm every single one of your senses.

He chuckles mockingly. "You wanted me to wake you up with my cock." His hips slap forward to punctuate his words.

Words refuse to form in your throat, as you let out a stream of pleasured moans and whimpers of his name. He finds that spot with such ease that it knocks the air out of your lungs, you feel your pussy flutter around him as you try to pull him towards you for a kiss.

You're so soft, so warm. Pulling him closer and Dave grunts before he presses his lips to yours. He had woken up harder than a rock and had almost resisted the urge to touch you again, but then your words came back to him. Realizing that you were right.

"Good morning, baby," you say with a giggle, before letting your hand run up and down his spine. Loving the way he starts kissing you between thrusts.

He doesn't answer you, just slides his tongue into your mouth as he pounds into you. Increasing the pace as you wake up.

"Fuck," you garble, as he works you into the mattress. Fucking you harder with each thrust, pulling the filthiest sounds from you as that coil inside of you threatens to snap.

"You gonna cum?" Dave demands through his teeth, breathless from his efforts. "Cream all - fuck - over my cock?"

"Yes!” You call out, your fingernails digging into his warm skin as everything goes dark. Your body starts to convulse beneath him as pleasure pumps throughout you. You hear him telling you to take it all as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.

Dave's never been one to lose himself in sex, but he's completely lost. Unable to think of anything but the clutch of your cunt and your sweet moans. His hips driving forward to hear more.

"Cum," you gasp, as his movements become a little sloppier, moaning as you're still coming down from your high. "Fill me up."

Dave hisses against your lips, fingers digging into your shoulders and he feels his pace falter. "Fuck."

"You feel so good," you murmur against his lips.

Another thrust before he's grunting, pushing deep and moaning your name against your lips as he floods your cunt with ropes of cum. Feeling more relaxed than ever before when he's done and slumping down into your arms.

"You good?" You giggle, as you wrap your arms around him.

"Great." Dave sighs as he tucks his head into your shoulder for a moment more. "Just great."

You glance over at the clock and see it's still early, and decide to hold him a little tighter, letting you both fall into another sleep. Not ready for when he'll pull himself away later that morning.

Dave had fallen asleep inside you. When he wakes up again, he can't believe that he actually fell asleep inside you.

Pulling away slowly so he can slip out of the bed and shower, frowning slightly as he thinks about the night and the entire situation while he cleans up.

You wake to the sound of the shower, feeling a twinge of disappointment he snuck out of bed without waking you.

You stay glued to the spot, nestled up comfortably and listen to the sound of the water. The urge to join him grows stronger but you don't act on it, figuring he would have invited you to shower with him it that's what he had wanted.

You wonder if you should start gathering up your things, but you don't, instead you pull the pillow he had slept on closer to you and snuggle into it. Inhaling his scent and letting yourself enjoy the memories from the night before.

Dave showers methodically, like he would if he were coming back from an op. Stripping his skin down to leave no trace of evidence on it, although the same cannot be said this time about his heart or mind. Stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist, he's already made the decision that he had been thinking about. Opening the door to find you wrapped around his pillow and smirking as he leans against the frame.

"Good morning," you say quietly, as you look over at him.

Admiring how good he looks as droplets of water drip down his chest.

"How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly pretty good." Dave admits, looking a little confounded by that. "I normally never sleep well, but I slept through until I was getting up to take a shower."

"Good," you say with a small smile, not letting up on snuggling the pillow. "I guess I should shower now as well. Before we go back to our regular lives."

Dave shrugs slightly but you don't see it. "Think you might be tipping off the police who caused the damage." He comments.

"No. I promised," you say, panic rising in your voice, "You don't trust me?"

He watches you shoot up off the pillow, your eyes frantic.

"Fine." He shrugs again. "Guess I'll tip them off, then."

"What are you talking about, Dave?" You say, as you pick his shirt up and pull it on, before rounding the bed towards him.

"Decided I'm not going to let Carol keep getting away with shit." He had thought about it in the shower and decided it was the right thing to do.

You place one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek, studying his face for a few seconds before realizing that he's officially done with cleaning up messes that aren't his own. "I can do it. I can talk to them. Request it's anonymous, you don’t need to be the one making the report."

"Good." Dave nods. "The car hasn't been fixed yet, they should be able to get all the evidence they need off it."

You gently rub your thumb back and forth against his cheek before nodding, "Whatever you want me to say, I'll do it. I'll help however I can."

"Just tell the truth." He smirks at you. "But leave out the part where you fucked her husband."

"That's my favourite party of the story though," you say with a giggle, before pressing a kiss to his lips. "Guess I'll have to keep it to myself."

"You can tell me later on, once the dust has settled." Dave snorts. "There's plenty of evidence of other misdeeds that will be found."

"Sounds like you'll have a lot of stress that you'll somehow need to work out, Mr. York."

He snorts, smirking at you and tilts his head. "Stressful job, stressful life, about to be a single parent." He chuckles.

"Hope your little pussy is ready to be pounded every night while I work out that 'stress'.”

"Ready and wanting." You say before smashing your lips against his and wrapping your arms around him. "Anytime you need me."

[3 months later]

A smile stretches across your face as he crawls up from the bottom of the bed, his cock hanging hard and heavy between his legs as he pushes yours open.

With a possessive growl and he calls you his before slipping inside of you in one fluid motion, capturing your lips as he fills you to the hilt.

It had been a new start for you both, and you couldn't be happier that you started it together, with the girls.

Who'd have thought that witnessing that little wreck would have been the best thing that had ever happened to you?

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters #Dave York #David York #Dave York x you #Dave York x Reader #Dave York x F! Reader #dave york x female reader #Dave York x OFC #Dave York Smut #Dave York Imagine #Dave York x original female character #Dave York x Yn #The Equalizer 2 #The Equalizer fanfiction #My fanfiction #my fanfic #i love dave york yall #absurdthirst

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mask131 · 11 months

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November is usually my Shining month, and so I want to bring forward again something I have been repeating for a long time now but that I don't see being picked up a lot by people. A detail that is well-hidden inside the Doctor Sleep movie, but that makes the piece even more infinitely appreciable and shows it was made by true Shining fans.

And this detail is... the ghosts of the Overlook Hotel.

Now, when this bunch appeared during the final scene some familiar faces could be spotted. Grady of course, the Injured Guest from the "Great party, isn't it?" scene, the Twins, and of course the Woman of Room 217 -sorry, 237. But there are other faces there - seemingly random people in fancy outfit just for the sake of it. People were confused as to who these people were...

But all you have to do is look at the end credits. And you have a big surprise.

The familiar faces are confirmed to be the ghosts we always thought we were, or to correspond to famous ghosts of the original novel. The twins are confirmed as Grady's two daughters, while the woman in the white dress (not on the picture above but you can her in the scene) is Mrs. Grady. Meaning we have the whole Grady family as ghosts. The woman of room 237 is confirmed to be indeed Mrs. Massey, just like in the book ; as for the Injured Guest (only referred to as "injured guest" in the original scripts of The Shining), the sequel decided to make him Horace Derwent. Meaning he likely can switch between a young/attractive and older/more gruesome form, just like Massey's ghost, since in the original movie Derwent was clearly seen though not named in the scene with the man wearing a dog-bear-like costume (the script confirms it is supposed to be a dog costume though).

Alright, but what of the others? Now this is where things get interesting! The bald man to the right of Grady? That's Vito the Chopper. Yes, the Vito the Chopper from the novel by King, the mafia boss who got his head blown off in the Presidential Suite - as for the two men near him, they are his two bodyguards, Victor T. Boorman and Roger Macassi. Also from the book. These three characters are actually an Easter egg for those who read the book (and we know from the original treatment of Kubrick's movie that the criminal paradise-era of the Overlook and the murders at the Presidential Suite were originally supposed to play a big role in the cinema version of the story too).

But things get even better with the last ghost of the group. He doesn't appear in the picture above either, like Mrs. Grady, but you can notice him during the scene, a large man right behind Mrs. Grady when the ghosts first appear (he is played by Marc Farley). And the ghost's name, as revealed in the credits is... James Parris.

Now, fans of the novel might wonder "Wait... Who's that? I don't recall reading about him". And indeed, you did not! At least if you just read the regular version of the novel! James Parris is however a true character of the Shining, a true victim of the Overlook Hotel, a character written about and invented by Stephen King... But he is part of the deleted prologue of the novel, "Before the Play". You know this prologue that was not part of the published novel but was released in various TV magazines several times, and then finally re-added to the main novel in the collector Cemetery Dance edition of "The Shining"? You must have heard of it - even before the Cemetery Dance release the prologue was going around the Internet, published on small fan websites and discreet literature blogs...

And James Parris was, according to the first part of this prologue (detailling the building and creation of the Overlook... and its first victims) the second owner of the Overlook Hotel. A man that was touched by the same obsession and madness for the hotel that had overtaken Watson's grandfather (the actual builder and first owner of the Hotel), and, if I recall well, ended up dying of a heart attack on the hotel's garden-grounds (near the topiary beasts if I recall well, but I am not too sure, I haven't read the prologue in a while).

So all of that to say - not only did they bother placing an Easter Egg for the fans of King who had read the original book ; but they also placed an Easter Egg for those that knew of or had read the Before the Play prologue, which most regular fans of the novel never even heard about! If this isn't commitment to researching your source material, I don't know what is!

#the shining #shining #doctor sleep #overlook hotel #ghosts #stephen king #stanley kubrick #kubrick's the shining #king's the shining #references #before the play

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sencrose · 2 months

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-- WHEN STARS REALIGN

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

wc: 3.2k

tags: NONCON, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, toys (vibrator/dildo), soulmate AU, ambiguous backstory, fingering, creampie, pwp

a/n: this is the second time gojo has distracted me from another thing i've been working on. i need to evict him from my brain. ao3 link here

summary: Years after you leave the world of jujutsu, Satoru returns to claim what's his.

At some point in time, you had potential.

Nothing record breaking in the grand scheme of things; the balance of the world didn’t shift when you were born. But, you were on track to graduate as a grade one sorcerer, a bundle of accolades and accomplishments under your belt. It was potential, nonetheless.

All you have left are memories.

The day you found Satoru Gojo’s name written on your wrist, and the chaos that unleashed shortly after. A hasty withdrawal, starting from scratch with no connections. It’s what you had to do.

But even memories fade with time. Some already have.

These days, life is much more mundane. Water cooler talk, boring meetings about raising profits, the oh so wonderful view of your gray cubicle that fills your vision for sixty hours a week – if you’re lucky. At the very least, you can take solace that you were able to make things work in your favor – a promotion on the way, a comfortable salary, and a decent apartment.

Sometimes the hypothetical flits past your mind. What if you stayed? What if you didn’t abandon jujutsu? If you didn’t abandon him? But the thought flies by so fast, and you have no desire to chase after it.

With a slam of your laptop, you check out for the day, making your way past the elevators, the security gates, on to the bustling train you take to get back home. Everything is the same as always – until you get back to your apartment. The door is slightly ajar, and you know you’re not the type to leave it so.

Hesitantly, you push it open. Nothing in the hallway at least. Nothing in the bathroom, kitchen, or living room either. What are the actual chances that someone, or something is really in there? Maybe this whole thing is a fluke. That doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you push the door open, peering through the crack like a child in search of a bedtime monster.

“Welcome back!”

Not a monster, but close.

As soon as his voice hits your ears, your body freezes. Gojo sits on your bed leisurely, hands leaned against the back of his head with his legs crossed. Not much has changed about him, other than the solid blindfold replacing his round specs.

“Miss me?”

You take in the sight of him more, questioning if it’s really him. He’s taller than you remember, but only by a small margin. It brings back memories of him towering over you, encroaching on your personal space more than you like. It’s a struggle to get any words to slip past your tongue with your memories flooding back into you, a homecoming of sorts.

“Why…” you attempt to ask, but your voice is barely audible, a soft whimper.

“What’s that?” he asks, bringing his hand to his ear, “You’re gonna have to speak up, sweetheart.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m your soulmate after all,” he replies, emphasizing the label. You’re well aware that some would die for the opportunity to be forever linked to the strongest sorcerer, good looks and all. You however, are not fond of the idea.

“How did you find out where I am?”

“Call it divine intervention,” he says with a cheeky smile, one you didn’t miss.

“Why now?”

“Aw, did you want me to come fetch you sooner? You should’ve saved me the trouble and come to me yourself.”

“W-what?” you ask warily, before letting out a sigh, “no, just. Just leave, Satoru.”

“Aw, come on, the least you could do is give me a warm welcome. How long has it been now? Five years?”

“Six,” you corrected him.

“And you didn’t call once?” he asks with a pout, voice far too sweet to be genuine, “you could’ve called.”

“I don’t have your phone number,” you reply curtly.

“You deleted it?” he asks, gasping dramatically while covering his mouth in a sarcastic attempt to seem baffled, “oh, you’re really hurting my feelings.”

“What do you want?” you ask, your patience running its limit.

“Isn’t it obvious, sweetheart?” he retorts, sitting up from the bed. It is, but you don’t want to accept the reality in front of you. Satoru’s here, and he’s going to take you back. Panic runs its course through your body, your heart beating faster, your breathing uneven. Before the thought of running away even reaches your legs, he’s grabbing your arm and pulling you onto the bed.

“Let go of me!” You struggle under his grip, but you know it’s for naught. Satoru’s always been stronger than you, and you have no chance of winning.

“So you can run away again?”

You don’t dare meet his gaze, only for his hand to grip your cheeks together to turn you towards him.

“I’d like an answer,” he says, his face far too close for comfort, as if you’re looking at him through a kaleidoscope – unable to escape the overwhelming image of him.

“And I’d like for you to leave,” you snap back. If you could spit at him, you would. “But I guess we both like things that are out of reach.”

“Fine, be like that,” he scoffs, “I’ll have fun either way.”

Gojo undoes the zipper of your skirt before hiking it up to your waist. You squirm under his touch, not making things much better for yourself, the fabric of your skirt rising higher and higher. All that’s left is your stockings and underwear, the last bastion against his hands. Not that it’s much of a barrier to begin with. His fingers are warm, sending an involuntary heat through you as he slides them up your thigh before pressing down on your clothed slit.

“Should probably do something about this first, huh?”

The sound of ripped nylons fill your ears, cacophonous and dissonant. That’s one layer down. Panic fills your chest as his fingers now touch your bare skin, sending a chill up your spine. Satoru’s hand pulls the fabric of your underwear aside, and you wince at the air grazing your bare cunt.

“Wait, Satoru, stop,” you say, a distance in your voice, in disbelief that this is happening.

“Why?” he asks, craning his neck to feign confusion, “we have so much to catch up on.”

His hand presses against your slit, fingers sliding up and down to collect the arousal your body has been forming.

“At least your body’s honest about missing me,” he teases, rolling your clit in between his fingers. The motion has your back arching off the bed, only for Gojo to press your hips back down. You don’t want to give in, not to him of all people. It’s a dangerous game, once you give him what he wants, all he’ll do is take, take, take. But when he plays with your clit so naturally, and has that warm bubble of pleasure threatening to rise to the surface, it’s hard to persevere.

His hand suddenly stops, and you feel both relief in your chest, and an aching want in your core. You can only hope he’s had his fun, but hope is a fickle thing.

“You know…” He pauses, humming thoughtfully as if he has a surprise in store. “You’ve got some interesting stuff in your drawer.”

The blood in your veins go ice cold.

“You should’ve let me know you missed me so much. I’m way better than this garbage.”

He brings out your toys from his pockets, and you can only assume he went through your stuff when he broke into your apartment. And though you’re no prude, it is embarrassing to see it laid out bare in front of you.

“I mean, is this even any good?” He ogles at the bullet vibrator, pressing the button to turn it on with a crisp click. The toy comes alive, and you shiver at the realization it’s in the hands of someone who can and will turn it into a torture device.

Satoru presses your legs against your chest, having a clear view of your bare pussy. It’s too embarrassing to match his gaze, but you have no choice as he presses the vibrator, hard onto your clit. The sudden onslaught of vibrations is met with a sharp pain, before it leaves as fast as it came. Pleasure rushes in its place, but it’s too much, too soon. Before you know it your body seizes as you come, jolts of ecstasy flashing through your body before fizzling out.

“Guess it is,” he comments with a sly smirk on his face.

You’re barely able to recover from your first orgasm before Satoru’s putting it back onto your oversensitive clit. Anticipation starts to build in your body, your muscles tightening against your will.

“Satoru, please, let me rest,” you plead.

He responds by pressing his finger against your hole, sliding it in with little effort. Once he sees how well you take him, he’s pressing in another and a moan escapes you.

“You’ve rested plenty for the last six years,” he purrs, voice low, eyes filled with lust.

Satoru is mean with how he plays with your pussy, scissoring his fingers inside you while diligently pressing the vibrator against your clit. Tension builds in your core, low and warm. That familiar bubble starts building again, and you writhe at the promise of another orgasm. Satoru’s fingers hook into your pussy, starting a steady pace while hitting your g-spot. Your voice isn’t anything you recognize, panting and moaning sinfully with each pass. You feel it coming again, and you resign yourself to the inevitable.

The betrayal of your body is too much for you, as you sob through your climax, muscles clamping on his fingers as you ride through it. At the very least, the main note is pleasure, even if you can feel the threat of pain creeping up on you with how sore your muscles are, how your clit throbs far after he’s removed the toys and fingers from you.

Satoru finally releases you from his grip, your legs gracelessly dropping onto the bed.

“Thought you’d had a little more fight in you,” he quips, lips curling into a sly grin.

You’re not able to come back with a sharp retort, only able to focus on catching your breath and collecting yourself. The only thing that catches your attention is the sound of another device coming alive in his hands.

“Ugh, this looks kinda gross,” he sneers, showcasing a seldom used self-thrusting dildo in his hand, pinching it as if he’s holding a piece of rotting fruit, “you really play with this?”

You want to respond no, you don’t use it. It was a gag gift from one of your friends who had a quirky sense of humor. The only thing that leaves your lips is a groan.

Satoru, of course, has no intention of letting you rest. He spreads your legs open, the dildo pulsing vigorously, one good thrust away from penetrating your quivering hole.

“S-Satoru, please-”

“Please what?” he asks, voice obviously mocking your desperation.

“Give me a break, just a few minutes-”

“No,” he interrupts, punctuating the end of his sentence by pushing the dildo inside of you. It’s unnatural, uncomfortable as it stretches out your pussy, scraping your walls with each thrust. It’s too deep, nearly punching the air out your lungs as it undulates.

The once comforting sound during your lonely nights now buzzes incessantly in your ears. The vibrator starts again and you find yourself running into the wall that is your bed frame. With no way to escape, Satoru presses the bullet on your aching clit, and your body tenses up yet again.

“You’re too easy to please, you know that right?” he taunts, pressing both toys harder into you.

Words die on the tip of your tongue, morphing into soft sobs and incoherent moans. You’re sure you’re saying ‘it’s too much’ somewhere in the flurry of noises, but it doesn’t reach Satoru’s ears. Of course it doesn’t. If anything, it only has him playing rougher with your pussy, thrusting harder with the dildo, drawing circles with the vibrator.

That familiar heat starts to build in your core again, insistent and feverish. It’s a losing game, trying to fight back against it, but you try anyway. Moving your body so that the vibrator isn’t right on your puffy clit, hoping he’ll lose his strong-handed grip on the dildo, anything for a sweet, much-needed moment of respite.

You just wish you didn’t fail so quickly.

“Nope, no running away,” he says with a grin, legs wrapping around yours to keep them open, vulnerable, at his mercy.

Satoru’s quick to catch on, why wouldn’t he be? His ministrations are unrelenting, his hand now thrusting the dildo inside you with fervor. It hits deeper than anything you’re used to, your head light and dizzy at the overwhelming sensation.

As your muscles tense, pain starts to rear its ugly head, your nerves fried and frayed at the edges. Pleasure zips past your core before immediately rushing into pain and overstimulation. Your moans start to morph into screams, limbs thrashing under Satoru’s grip as he presses his hands on your mouth.

“Geez, you’re gonna scare your neighbors, sweetie,” he says, voice laced with faux concern and an authentic pride, “bet they’ve never heard you scream this loud, right?”

The only response you can give him are muffled moans, trembling legs as you do your best to ride out the messy wave of pleasure and pain. When you finally come back down from your high, Satoru finally pulls his hand away from your mouth. Your legs spasm as he takes the dildo out of you, nearly mourning the fullness that filled you up.

The sound of his belt unbuckling brings you back to reality, but you have no energy to protest, too wrung out and sore from your unrelenting string of orgasms.

His cock prods against your entrance, and your muscles seize in anticipation. Even with the arousal pooling around your hole, you’re not sure it’s enough to take him. You’re not sure if anything would help you take him.

When Satoru enters you, he does so achingly slow, savoring the way your walls split to account for his girth. It’s too much, your hands gripping on to the sheets for purchase, aching with how tight you hold on to them.

“S-Satoru, please, it hurts,” you beg, voice honeyed with the sweetest tone you can muster, hoping that he’ll relent.

“Good,” he pants out, nearly groaning as he bottoms out, “maybe you’ll think twice about leaving.”

The slow drag of him against your insides nearly drives you delirious, and your resolve flickers for a brief, fleeting moment; you almost find yourself daring to ask for more. Not that Satoru would give you a moment to think. His pace steadily builds up, and before you know it the lewd slap of skin against skin echoes throughout the room, and you can’t help but whine at the way he fills you up so perfectly.

Satoru brings the vibrator to your clit again, and you shake your head desperately, frenzied, because you know you can’t handle it. Not that he cares – this is a punishment after all. Within moments, his cock rhythmically hits that special spot that has you keening into him, and you can feel his grin against your skin, as if it’s just a game to him, the prize being your compliance.

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, though that doesn’t stop muffled whimpers and hums from escaping your lips.

“You’re holding back, let me hear your sweet, sweet voice.” His fingers press into your lips, pressing down against your tongue, and what comes out is foreign. You’re not sure if sweet is the apt descriptor for it. Sounds more wet, more choked and coughed. You don’t want to think about the implications.

You can barely hear the snap of Satoru’s hips over your unintelligible moans, but you definitely feel the intensity of his thrusts revving up. Pressing down on your waist, holding you in place so he can fuck the deepest parts of you with pinpoint accuracy.

Tears swell in your eyes again, the sharp sting of overstimulation drawing a jolt out of you. Just a fleeting moment of tightening muscles before falling into an ache that roars in your core. You’re back in a place worse than you started, overworked nerves and a feverish heat that refuses to cool down. There’s nowhere to go, no reprieve, just Satoru holding you down as he ravages your cunt.

“Just take what I give you,” he says, more command than statement, “it’s the least you could do for me, sweetheart.”

The pet name churns your stomach, knowing that he’s blissfully entertained from the whole situation pisses you off to no end. Everything about him pisses you off really – that stupid sly smirk, the beads of sweat collecting along his forehead, and how he barely looks disheveled throughout the whole thing. And though that anger and frustration simmers in you, the promise of climax quickly envelops those feelings, a wave crashing along the shore, taking the bank’s forgotten shells and sediment as it recedes.

Satoru fucks you with a desperation you never thought you’d see in him, fracturing the blasé version of him that lives in your memory. There’s a recklessness to his pace, too hard, too fast, too deep, especially with the vibrator pressed against your clit.

The tension in your core starts winding itself up again, but you feel it lower, deeper than all the fleeting climaxes you’ve had so far. You don’t want it, you know exactly where it’ll lead, but your body doesn’t care, walls tightening around like Satoru’s cock like it was made for this, as certain as the markings on your wrist.

“You gonna cum again? Can feel you wrappin’ around me,” Satoru pants between strokes, a smug grin on his face as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Nonono, no, I can’t-” You’re interrupted by a particularly mean thrust, only able to finish your thought with a lascivious moan.

“You already have so many times,” he coos, face pressing against yours, “I know you can.” A promise and a threat. Without any warning, Satoru presses a button on the vibrator, and it intensifies. Everything overwhelms you, the warmth of his skin pressed against yours, the fullness of him, the way his hot breath caresses you with each grunt and moan.

Another orgasm rips through you as the tension in your core snaps, muscles trembling and fluttering uncontrollably as he fucks you through it. Your voice and body don’t feel like yours, lewd moans spilling from your lips, arms wrapping around his back for support and pressing his feverish skin against yours.

“F-fuck,” Satoru pants, and you can tell he’s close.

With a few more strokes he’s cumming inside you, walls continuing to spasm and convulse around him as he empties hot ropes of semen in your cunt. In terms of the physical, everything about you is washed in warmth, inside and out. When Satoru removes himself from you, you wince at the emptiness and warm seed leaking from your hole.

An uncharacteristically gentle hand pats your head as you attempt to decipher what the future holds.

“I missed you too.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #sen writes #s.jjk #cw.noncon #sen fics

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joonsmagicshop · 3 months

Text

Wait For Me?

Summary: Yoongi has to leave you for two whole weeks because of work. He asks you to wait for him and you get a very naughty idea, what if while you wait for him...he waits for you too

Paring: Yoongi/Reader

Work Count: 8K

Rating: M/18+

Tags: smut, sub Yoongi, slight dom Yoongi, Dom reader, not cuming for two weeks. desperate Yoongi, dirty talk, mentions of Yoongi's balls (We have all seen the bulge pics), video call masturbation, eating pussy, Yoongi is a whiny boy, reader calls him baby boy and gives him pet names.

Authors Note: Tag list people I am so sorry!!!!! I was fixing my tumblr and completely deleted this fic on accident so this is a repost. Also this is filth like this is absolutely top five filthiest things I have written (so far) so please enjoy

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

As you were about to take the chocolate chip muffins out of the oven your phone vibrated loudly against the countertop.

You hastily took them out, knowing how easy it would be to get distracted by your phone and burn the surprise you worked on for your boyfriend Yoongi.

You placed them on the stovetop to cool and quickly shucked off the bright blue oven mits Yoongi had bought you last Christmas and you picked up your phone to see a message from him.

Yoongi: Sorry darling looks like we have a meeting that is going longer than we thought. I’ll be home later. I’ll pick up something for dinner though

You frown when you read the message as you check the clock, it’s already five and Yoongi should have been on his way home.

You knew what you were getting into dating Min Yoongi of BTS and while you had assured him time and time again you were okay with him working long hours, being gone for days even months at a time and you were okay with being hidden for your own safety, sometimes it still made you sad how little time you got to spend with him.

You: It’s okay Yoongs. You pick up dinner I already made dessert so we are even ;)

Yoongi: Is this a euphemism or did you actually make dessert… I do remember promising to eat you out after we couldn’t wait to fuck last time

You: Gonna have to come home and find out sweetness, though I like the way you think and I’m holding you to that promise ;)

You felt yourself blush as you slowly took the now-cooled muffins out of the tin and began to place them in a plastic container.

Yoongi: Fuck.

You shake your head with a small smile on your face as you make your way back to the couch. You gather up your big blanket and drape it over your bare legs as you open your book to the page it was on before the timer dinged. You figured you might as well get settled in while you waited for Yoongi.

Yoongi: Well I know what’s on the menu for dessert ;) But what do you want me to pick up for dinner?

You blush when you read his message and feel a giddiness spread throughout your veins.

You: Whatever you like sweetness. I’m providing dessert anyway so your choice.

Yoongi: Babe you're going to make me hard in this meeting

You: I can’t help it if I like flustering my boy. Love it when you get all blushy and hard over something as simple as eating pussy.

Yoongi: Namjoon is shooting me death glares because I can’t concentrate you minx.

You giggle again and send him a winky face before locking your phone and opening your book with a satisfied smile.

Two hours later you hear the front door open and you tilt your head back to see Yoongi standing there in a plain white teeshirt and sweats. His hair is long and falling in front of his exquisite face and you put your bookmark in your book and saunter over to him.

You help him by taking some of the takeout food bags and you both comfortably slide into your routine of him setting the table and you setting the food up.

You both take your usual places at the table and you give him a quick peck on the cheek as you sit. His face flushes red and you grin at how easily flustered he seems to get with small acts of affection.

You talk about your day and Yoongi listens as you both dig in. The sunlight has long faded and you light some candles and dim the lights for the ambiance of it all.

Yoongi is usually pretty shy and quiet but tonight he seems extra quiet, letting your voice and stories fill the silence as he chews his food and sips his water.

You can tell something is off and while you want to give Yoongi the space to tell you himself as the night goes on he seems to draw into himself more, hardly looking at you and making himself smaller.

“Yoongs everything okay?” You ask as you stand to clean the dishes.

“I uh. Yeah. I mean. Our meeting today was shit.” He says as you abandon cleaning to shove your chair closer to his, letting your bare knee brush against his clothed one and intertwining your fingers with his long ones.

“You can talk to me about it you know. Here I was blabbing about my day when you had a crappy day. I’m sorry sweetness.” You say as he lowers his eyes to your intertwined hands and your stomach jolts with nerves.

“It’s okay I like hearing about your day. I love your voice.” He whispers.

You rub your thumb across his and give him time and space to speak.

“We got news today that we have a press release to do. In Los Angeles.” He mutters keeping his voice low as the candle on the table flickers and illuminates the beautiful curves of his face.

“That’s awesome Yoongi. You always have fun when you go to the States! When do you leave?” You ask brushing a lock of hair away from his eyes.

His mouth forms a hard line and your stomach drops.

“Tomorrow morning, eight am. Bright and early. Gone for two weeks…as of now” He scoffs as you feel your heart sink in your chest.

Yoongi just got home a week ago and you had all these plans and house renovations you wanted to complete and they were sending him away early.

“Namjoon was pissed. He said we had just gotten home and hardly had time to spend with loved ones before we were whisked away again. PR told us we don’t have a choice.” Yoongi grits out looking angry and torn as he rakes his hands through his hair to push it back from his face.

You rub his palm with your thumb trying to soothe him as he rants on.

About how unfair it is

About how much he loves the fans but he doesn’t want to leave again when he just got back

About how Hoseok complained because he promised his family he would spend a week away with them at their summer home and now he can’t

You take it all in and let Yoongi rant. You see how tense his shoulders get and you quickly get up off your chair to hug him.

“I’m so sorry Yoongs. I know you don’t want to go.” You say softly petting his hair as he melts into your shoulder and lets you comfort him.

“I just got you back I don’t want to go again. I hate leaving you.” He whines as you deliver a soft kiss to the crown of his head and he looks up at you through wide eyes.

“I’m gonna miss you too much. I lost you for two months now I get you back for a week and I’m gone again. I didn’t even get to fuck you as much as I planned.” He pouts which has you smirking and blushing as you rake your hands through his soft dark locks.

“We did have plans to make up for lost time.'“ You tease as Yoongi groans and closes his eyes.

“Don’t remind me. Being away from you last time was torture. Two whole months without you and this week we were so busy we hardly had alone time. And I had all these plans and things I wanted to do sexually and now we can’t” He groaned.

You let out a laugh.

“You were planning our sex life while working?” You ask in disbelief.

“Nah usually at night when I couldn’t sleep. I find staring at the ceiling dealing with time zone differences and jet lag gives you all sorts of time to think….and plan.” He says with a grin that has your pulse racing.

“You horndog!” You tease smacking his arm as he wraps his arms around you caging you in.

“Says the one who got me hard during a meeting today! I don’t even have time for dessert I have to start packing.” He says sadly.

“Sweetness I like the way you think but I did make dessert. Well…chocolate chip muffins. Bring them with you and share them with the boys.” You say as he stares up at you.

“As long as I don’t have to share you I’ll share the muffins….I guess.” He teases as you press a kiss to his forehead and smile against his warm skin.

You pull away and he gets up from his chair and you both get to work cleaning the kitchen. You had to admit the evening took a somber turn and even though you tried to be happy and excited for Yoongi and the band heading to LA for more press and to get their names out there, you were going to miss him terribly. A week was not enough time especially when you spent most of it visiting with your family, or his, or catching up with friends who missed you both.

After the kitchen is clean you both end up in the bedroom. Instead of sexy times, you are sprawled on the bed watching as he grabs his large black suitcase and places it on the bed next to you, then goes through all his drawers to see what he needs.

“Ugh, it’s going to be cold in LA. I’m going to have to pack so many sweaters and they take up so much room.” He sighs as he places a stacked pile of neatly folded sweaters on the bed and you watch as he sorts them all.

“Well save some for me. I like to wear your stuff when you’re gone.” You remind him with a grin as he picks a sweater from the bottom of the pile to throw your way.

It’s the soft black pullover sweater he wears all the time that no matter how many times it’s washed it always smells like him.

You grin and throw it over your head.

“It should just be yours. You look so much cuter in it than I do,” he admits as you crawl forward on the bed pushing his luggage out of the way to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Don’t say that Yoongs. You are just as cute as me if not cuter.” You tease which has him blushing pink and grinning like a fool.

“I’m not cute.” He mutters though you can tell he is pleased with being called cute.

Something you learned about Yoongi was as much as he adored receiving compliments he had a hard time accepting them and believing them. It was something the two of you were working on.

“Nope, my cute detector is going crazy every time I’m near you so it must be you who is the cute one.” You reply making beeping noises that have him blushing and giggling behind his hands

“You are so cute Yoongs. Especially when you wear sweaters that are too big and it gives you sweater paws, or when the weather is cold and your cheeks get extra rosy, or when you pretend to be this big and bad rapper but you become my subby little boy behind closed doors.” You continue as he gasps and you see a blush flood his cheeks.

“Stoppp you're making me blush!” He whines as you giggle and grab his wrists to move his hands from his pretty flushed face.

“Was that something you were thinking about on those long nights? How good it feels to be my subby baby boy and let me do whatever I want to you? Hmm?” You tease as you feel a sort of power heat up your skin at Yoongi’s flushed expression.

It took almost a year for Yoongi to admit that while he loves being in control during sex he also likes to be taken care of. You both had a long conversation about it and in your mind it made sense. Yoongi was the type of person to put everyone else first and always take care of others. Of course, he would like to be taken care of as well.

You had started playing around with the dynamic six months ago but with all his traveling you were having less and less time to explore this new and exciting part of your sex life.

“Y/N You’re gonna make me hard.” He whines as you look down to see a sizeable bulge in his sweats and you grin in satisfaction.

“My sweetness getting so hard just from thinking about me playing with him hmm? So horny Yoongs.” You provoked as your hand slipped from his shoulder to down his firm chest as you watched him suck in a breath. By the time you made it to his sizeable bulge, his cock was straining against the material and stretching it to show off his impressive length and girth.

“Y/N. I-” He looked at the alarm clock on the night table and groaned. “We don’t have time. I have to be up in five hours for the airport.”

You knew he was right but that didn’t stop you from giving his cock a squeeze which had a high whine leaving his mouth.

“You are right. I kind of hate that you’re right though.” You say with a soft laugh as you try to hide how affected you were by the whole thing too.

“Believe me I do too. I’m gonna miss you. I’m gonna miss this.” He admits as he leans in and kisses you.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders again and sit back on your knees as Yoongi deepens the kiss. His hair is soft and tickles your face as your mouth molds to his and you feel him smile against your lips.

“You will wait for me right?” He asks in a small voice when he finally pulls away from the kiss.

“I’m not going anywhere Yoongs.” You reply in the same small voice as he shoots you a small smile.

He pulls away and continues to pack as you lay back down on the bed and answer some messages on your phone.

You can’t help but stare at your hot boyfriend and the fact his bulge is still evident in his pants. You could see the outline and while he seemed to be nonchalant about it you were not and it was making you needy.

He moved around the room collecting things and you ogled him until an idea popped into your head. A way for you both to still explore things sexually while he was out of town.

You of course had already tried sexting and very naked video calls but this would be something…new. Something that made your core throb and your heart race.

“Okay, I’m packed,” Yoongi announces snapping you from your thoughts as you stare at him with a mischievous grin.

“Oh, I know that look. You are scheming and planning something. What is it?” He asks as you abandon your phone and push yourself off the bed to stand in front of him.

“Yoongi. You know how you asked if I’d wait for you.” You start slowly trying to control your excitement.

“The conversation we had five minutes ago...yes?” He teases as you bite your lip.

“Can you promise you will wait for me too?” You ask batting your eyes at him.

“I’m not sure what you mean?” He says voice low.

“Well. You like being my subby sweet boy don’t you.” You ask with a dark tone to your voice and a tilt of your head.

Yoongi swallows hard and nods.

“And you lay in your bed all alone and think of me, and plan fun sexy things to do when you get home.” You goad as he nods again.

“And does my Yoongi touch himself when he thinks about these things? Do you wrap your fingers around your cock and try to stay quiet while jerking yourself off?” You ask as Yoongi’s eyes are blown wide.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Well, this time. You won’t. If I have to wait for you, I want you to wait for me. Two weeks. No cumming until you get home.” You say firmly as Yoongi’s mouth drops open and he gasps.

“Y/N” He whines but by the look in his eye you know he really likes this idea.

“You can’t tell me you can’t hold back for only two weeks. Are you an animal Yoongs? Do you really need your hands around you cock that bad?”

He shakes his head, lips parted and wet from licking them as he stares at you in shock.

“I-fuck I hate that idea but it’s also hot as fuck.” He admits as you trail a fingernail down his chest and he sucks in a gasp.

“Why? You want me to sit here and wait for you while you get to travel the world Are you telling me you are so fucking needy you can’t last two weeks without jerking off?” You bite out

“I think I’ll explode.” He admits shyly as you smirk.

“You will explode… when you get home. All over my face, or in my mouth, or pussy. I guess I have two weeks to decide don’t I?” You ask him as he nods.

You trail your hand down further and when you get to his sizeable bulge you cup it and he cries out softly. His cock jerks in your hand and his head lolls forward to watch your movements.

You waste no time slipping your hand in his pants and encircling his hard cock. Yoongi groans when you jerk him root to tip, and when you flick your hand over the crown of his cock your fingers are soaked with precum.

“So messy Yoongs.” You taunt as he thrusts up in your hand and fucks your fist.

It takes hardly any time before he is whining your name and spilling all over your fist. You work him through it and Yoongi is a whining shaking mess as you slow your movements and remove your hand.

You go to the ensuite bathroom to get cleaned up and you smirk when you can hear Yoongi’s labored breathing. You feel your arousal stick to your sleep shorts and you try to ignore the insistent throbbing of your pussy as you wash your hands.

When you come back in the bedroom the luggage is moved to the floor and Yoongi is flopped on his back on the bed in just his boxers

You stand in front of him with a warm cloth and Yoongi opens his eyes long enough to watch as you pull his boxers down to free his now soft cock and you take your time wiping him clean though most of his release got on your fist anyway.

You throw the cloth in the laundry and cup his now soft cock in your hand.

“D-Don’t Sensitive.” He whines out as you release his cock to cup his balls.

“All nice and empty Yoongs. If they look like this when you come home you are in big trouble.” You warn as he shivers under you and you tuck him back into his boxers.

You slide into bed next to him and he rolls over to spoon you taking his time wrapping his arms around you and pushing his cock into your backside, you can start to feel hardening again.

“Really Yoongi?” You tease as he chuckles softly in your hair.

“I can’t help it you are so hot. And the fact you aren’t letting me cum for two weeks. It’s going to be torture but it’s also kind of hot.” He admits as you smile against the pillow and fall asleep.

Seven days in and everything seemed to be okay.

You both got into an easy rhythm of texting each other when you could and sending pictures throughout the day.

His pictures always made you smile and miss him even more as you finally got to the weekend of your first week.

He had told you he was going to have Friday night off so you agreed to video call, showering right after work, and making a quick dinner so you could see him regardless of the time difference.

When you heard the shrill ring of your phone you bolted towards it almost knocking it right off the bed as you scrambled to answer.

Your heart thumped wildly when you saw his face on the screen. He looked just as beautiful as he did when he left and you both took the time to get caught up.

Joy seemed to radiate off both of you in waves and after almost two hours you finally had run out of things to say.

“It sounds like you are having a blast Yoongi! I knew you’d have fun!” You say as you pull the blankets up higher on your legs and get the pillows behind your back to prop yourself up.

Yoongi shoots you a gummy smile and you smile back at him, feeling warmth radiate from your chest. You love him so much it’s insane.

“Yeah I’m having fun, but I still miss you.” He acknowledges as you grin and rub your legs together to try and warm them up. The bed is always a lot colder when he is gone and the raging windstorm outside doesn’t help.

“I miss you too Yoongs. I miss your smile and your hugs and how you always make the perfect breakfast for me. I miss when you sing under your breath and I miss your hands.”

“My… hands?” He asks cutting you off with a confused expression

“Well, your fingers I guess. You have such nice fingers and hands Yoongi. Your hands are all veiny and your fingers are so long…” You trail off as you cock and eyebrow and Yoongi’s lips part.

“Yeah…” He says lowly as you feel arousal pool in your panties

Insatiable need coursed through your veins as you remember the last time you were with Yoongi. How you wrapped your hand around his cock and made him fall apart without even fully getting him naked. How he instantly succumbed to your idea of making him wait two weeks to cum and how whiny and needy he was that night.

“You know I love your hands Yoongs, and other parts of you.” You tease as you run your hand under the blanket out of his line of sight and you spread your legs as you dip your fingers into your waistband to find your aching core already wet with arousal.

“W-What are you doing?” He asks with a fiery gaze trailing up and down your body.

“I’m so horny Yoongs. We didn’t have time to take care of me before you left.” You whine as you circle your clit and your hips jolt involuntarily causing the phone to jerk.

“Just thinking about my hands get you that wet?” He mutters as you continue to give your clit light pressure and open your legs wider to give your hand more room.

You can feel his eyes on your body, his gaze piercing as you keep your eyes closed and give in to the sensation that is flooding your body.

It has been so long since you were touched even your hand is making you ache as you shift your hips to slip one finger inside your body, gasping when your tight heat sucks the finger right in.

“Fuck you’re making me so fucking hard,” Yoongi swore as he watched you pleasure yourself. His cock was sitting in his boxers rock hard and leaking, the weight of it and the heat of it against his skin was making him antsy and he longed to wrap a palm around it and make himself cum.

“Didn’t you say you would wait for me?” He teases as you flutter your eyes open and stare at him with a wicked grin on your face.

“I said I’d wait for you to come home. I never said I couldn’t cum, just you.” You said as Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock and his cock twitched pathetically in his underwear.

“You- I? How is that fair!” He groaned as you curled your finger inside your body and your hips rutted against it. You are aching to be filled even more so you add another finger and scissor them, trying to mimic how Yoongi’s cock would stretch you out.

“It’s fair because you're my subby boy. I don’t take orders from you Yoongs. You promised to be a good boy and not cum. You were so turned on you didn’t bother reading the fine print. Or asking for terms.”

You don’t bother to look at him when you respond. Instead, you curl your fingers against your front wall and let a moan spill from your lips as you ride your fingers.

“Y/N you- you can’t.” He whines out and when you finally open your eyes Yoongi is a mess. His hair is sweaty and plastered to his forehead, his cheeks are a dusty pink color and you can see how his teeth scrape his bottom lip in desperation as you pump your fingers in and out of your body, moving the phone close so he can hear the obscene noises.

“What if I cum untouched? That can’t count, right? I’m so fucking hard baby I can’t.” He breathes out, voice high-pitched and panicked as you snicker and halt your movements.

“Take off your boxers I wanna see your cock.” You demand as you prop the phone up on some spare pillows and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief as he does the same with his phone and pulls his boxers down.

His cock springs up and hits his clothed stomach and you take him in. The crown is flushed a deep red and the vein that spirals up his cock is protruding and angry looking. His cock twitches against his stomach and you watch as he circles it with his hand.

“Did I say you could touch? You are supposed to be a good boy not a fucking animal who can’t control himself!” You bark as Yoongi rips his hand from his cock and his hips thrust up into thin air.

“You- You said I could take them off!” He argues as you stare at him through the screen and take in how truly fucked out he looks.

“Never said you could touch. That’s strike one. Strike three and you will be punished. I wanted you to take it out so I could make sure my bad boy didn’t disobey me.” You tell him as he gasps and quickly sits on his hands to stop himself from touching. His cock twitches weakly against his stomach and pearls of precum dribble out and coat his shirt

“Such a leaky whore for me Yoongi.” You growl as you open your legs wider and begin to circle your clit again.

Yoongi can’t tear his eyes away from your body and he whines and wiggles on the bed desperate to get his hand around his cock. He is so hard it is starting to hurt.

You continue to rub your clit and feel the coil of pressure get tighter in your stomach. Yoongi looks so desperate, so fucked out from watching you it turns you on more.

“Please, baby.” He cries out as you watch his cock twitch on his stomach and more precum oozes out.

“Please what Yoongi? If you're going to beg me to let you touch yourself the answer is no.” You growl as you speed up your movements knowing you are getting closer with every pass of your finger over your aching clit.

“Please cum for me, baby. I want to watch you watch you fall apart. Please my cock can’t take much more I need you to cum or I might cum on accident.” He admits as he stares at you in a frenzy.

His words set you off and you cum, crying out his name and arching off the bed as you ride out your high. You can hardly hear Yoongi’s desperate whines as you thrash on the bed and when you finally come down and the ringing in your ears stops you stare at the screen to see Yoongi who is staring at you with desperation etched into his features.

“I’m not going to let you cum Yoongs. Not until you’re home.” You say as you pull the blankets back over your lap and run a shaky hand through your hair.

You can see his cock throb again and Yoongi whines and ruts his hips up, desperately searching for any friction to relieve the painful ache of his cock.

“Fuck I’m so hard. Fuck you are so hot. Fuck.” He grits out as he slowly and carefully pulls his boxers back up, the feeling of the fabric against his cock makes him hiss and you giggle as you watch him grit his teeth.

“Wet dreams don’t count right?” He asks in a panic as his eyes widen.

“This two-week thing is really getting to you huh?” You tease as Yoongi nods and runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“I just watched the hottest girl on the planet make herself cum and I’m hard as a rock and can’t touch myself. This is torture.” He says with a half laugh that has you smiling.

“Is it too much? Do you want to stop” You ask honestly as you take in how truly turned on he looks

“Not at all. I know the end will be worth it. Though I don’t think my cock is ever going to go down. I’m close to humping the bed like a horny teenager right now” He says shyly as you giggle.

“I think that’s also against the rules.” You tease as he smiles at you.

“I know. I didn’t expect you to play dirty though. Watching you cum. Fuck nothing in the world is as hot as that.”

You feel yourself start to blush.

“You not making it easier on yourself you know.” You joke as Yoongi grimaces.

“I know. I should probably try to get some sleep though. We have an early day tomorrow. Namjoon is dragging me and Jin to some art thing.” He says as you feel yourself grow sleepy in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Sounds fun.” You say tucking a pillow comfortably behind your head and curling into a ball on your side.

“Yeah I’m hard as fuck and I get to go to a boring art thing tomorrow. Living my best life.” Yoongi pouts and you giggle softly.

“Love you Yoongs.” You sigh as you feel your eyes flutter closed.

“Love you too babe.” He says softly back as you fall asleep.

The second week was torture for Yoongi. Though you didn’t pull any more dirty tricks it seemed his body realized something was wrong with his refusal to jerk off and it was getting revenge.

Yoongi started to wake up with a hard-on almost every single morning and not just a case of normal morning wood, he would be leaking and twitching and so achingly hard that it made him want to hit someone or something.

Cold showers had become his best friend and his balls constantly ached even when he wasn’t hard.

Yoongi couldn’t wait to get home to you in more ways than one and on the final day, he was so jittery even the boys started to take notice.

The universe also decided to torture Yoongi because while he was supposed to get home at a decent hour the plane got delayed and he ended up flying it at two am

By the time he got home, it was well past three in the morning and Yoongi burst through the door and threw his bags on the ground. He would get them later, or never, it didn’t matter as long as he found you

He made his way to the bedroom quickly and when he entered he saw you snuggled on your side clutching his sweater. You looked so small under the big puffy duvet that Yoongi let out a small sigh.

You had books scattered around you and the TV was left on. His smile widened when he realized you tried your best to wait up for him.

He moved around the room slowly and quietly, turning off the TV, putting the bookmark you had left on the bed in the book and he slowly stripped down and slipped into bed to hold you in his arms.

He was hard. Of course, he was. But that could wait because you immediately rolled over and melted into his warm embrace, snuggling your head into his strong chest and smiling against his skin.

“Home?” You asked voice heavy with sleep.

“I’m home. Get some rest beautiful.” He mumbled as he kissed the crown of your head.

Yoongi woke up with a start as the sensation of a warm mouth around his cock made him twitch and jerk awake.

Was it another dream?

God if he came without your permission he would be in so much trouble.

Yoongi forced his eyes open and the wet heat enveloped his cock again sending delicious pleasure down his spine.

This was real

This was so real

And this was you

He lifted the blankets to see you had woken up before him and crawled between his legs and was currently sucking his cock while staring up at him with your innocent doe eyes

Shit.

His hands immediately gripped the blankets for dear life, his knuckles turning white as he fought back every instinct to thrust up into your mouth. It felt so good and he was so sensitive that he was moaning your name within seconds, trying to keep his hips glued to the bed.

You popped off his cock with a wet noise and Yoongi’s eyes shot open as you smiled up at him.

“Morning,” you called in a sing-song voice as Yoongi panted above you.

“M-More Pl-please,” Yoongi begged in a broken whine as you chuckled and sat up between his legs, pushing the blanket off of you and exposing his lower half to the cold air.

His cock was rock hard and wet with your spit and twitched at the loss of contact. Yoongi felt so much blood rushing south that his head felt dizzy and when you came up to straddle him Yoongi let out a frustrated whine as you sat too far back to give his cock any kind of friction.

“Now is that any way to greet your girlfriend after not seeing her for two weeks?” You stated crossing your arms over your chest and staring him down.

He could see that the cold of the room was affecting your body as your nipples hardened under your shirt and his cock throbbed painfully.

“Sorry, I just. Fuck I haven’t come in two weeks and you gave me a blowjob. I’m- all fucked.” He says breathlessly as you lean forward and catch his lips in a searing kiss.

Yoongi grabs your hips to hold you steady as he presses his lips into yours. Your lips part for his easily and when you grind down on his upper thighs Yoongi lets out a groan against your mouth.

You feel the wetness pool at your center as you let him take charge of the kiss. His hands tangle in your bedhead and he easily flips you over so you are on your back and he hovers over you. He growls against your mouth and nips and sucks at your lips as you gasp.

One hand comes to rest in your hair while the other plays with your nipples through your sleep shirt.

He slowly ruts his cock into your thigh and you can feel just how leaky he is as he smears his precum around your heated skin.

You pull away and gasp for air as Yoongi stares at you with darkened eyes and a look of pure lust on his face.

“While that makeout was hot as fuck I think you are forgetting who is in charge here Yoongs.” You tease as he shuts his eyes in frustration.

“I thought we were done with this. I didn’t cum for two weeks. You win. Now I get to cum right?” He asks voice low and gravely as you laugh and lightly push him off of you.

You get yourself situated between his legs and Yoongi’s eyes widen when you finally push his boxers down and fully expose his cock to the cold air.

“Not so fast Yoongi. I have to check and make sure you weren’t naughty.” You taunt as you run a finger down his cock and he shivers and grips the blankets for support.

You take your time with his cock. Picking it up and inspecting it, running your soft fingers all over the head and the shaft making it throb and twitch in your hand. When you give him a harsh tug Yoongi feels like the air is punched from his lungs as his cock throbs and leaks precum all over your fist.

“You can-can’t tease me. I’m so sensitive I might cum without meaning to. Please.” He begs as you slowly lean down to suck on his cockhead and Yoongi feels electricity running through his veins. He is so horny so desperate, that he can feel his cock throbbing with each touch, he can feel the precum ooze out of the slit and cover his heated shaft.

Your hand trails down the underside of his cock and he whines when you make it to his balls. They are heavy and hot in your hand as you roll them around and Yoongi lets out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whine.

“Fuck you-you can’t… so sensitive.” He cries out as he arches off the bed at the sensation, the veins in his arms popping out as he grips the sheets for dear life.

This man is totally at your mercy and you love it

“So full Yoongs.” You taunted as you rolled them and played with them some more. Watching as his cock twitched pathetically against his shirt.

“We have to drain them, baby. You're so full you might burst.” You tease as you move away from his cock and sit beside him on the bed.

“Pl-please do something. I’ve been so good. Didn’t touch myself once. Please.” He begs jutting out his lower lip in a pout and you chuckle.

“How about I make you a deal? You stretch me out with your fingers so I can take your massive cock. If you can be a good boy and hold off a little longer I’ll let you cum inside me, with a condom of course. If you can’t control yourself you get to cum on your fist. Deal?” You ask

Without waiting Yoongi is already between your legs and you giggle when he spreads them apart and sticks his whole face into your pussy.

You cry out and grab for his hair as he licks up everything your body is willing to give him. His tongue is rough and hot against your core and when he flicks it over your clit you whine out above him.

He uses one hand to hold your hips down and the other hand comes to join his mouth as he slips a finger inside easily. You moan and thrash on the bed as he works you open. You can subtly feel his hips fucking his hot cock into the mattress and you grin when he lets out a wild moan against your core.

“There you are stretched please sit on my cock.” He begs quickly as he pulls away and sits up next to you on the bed.

His chest is heaving and his cheeks are flushed and wet with your arousal and you stare at him in shock.

“Did I say you were done?” You ask darkly as Yoongi swallows hard.

“I’m gonna cum. Seriously I can’t. Too sensitive it hurts too much.” He whined as you stared him down with a cold glance.

“The challenge was to control yourself Yoongi. Not rush your way into things so you don’t cum.” You say darkly as you push him down on the mattress and fully take control.

You don’t even bother with his cock. Instead, you climb up his body and position each knee so you are straddling his face.

“You rap and sing about how good you are with your tongue so fucking prove it. Make me cum and if I’m feeling generous I’ll let you cum.” You grit out.

You don’t bother letting him answer instead you sink down on his mouth and sigh when he starts to lap at your juices.

His tongue prods your entrance and you whine and grab for his hair when he sticks in inside. Thrusting in and out and flicking over your clit in a way that has you moaning out his name in broken whimpers.

You feel the bed shift and you look back in time to see one of his hands is sneakily wrapped around his cock, not jerking it, just holding the base in a vice-like grip and you realize Yoongi is very very desperate to cum, and trying his best not to.

“I’ll let you hold your cock like a pathetic loser who can’t hold his cum properly. If I see that hand move I’ll chain you to the bedpost and get a pretty cock ring to put around you. Or maybe a chastity cage that way we can make sure you aren’t cumming without permission. Would you like that Yoongs? Like to be my caged-up little slut?”

The whine he lets out is animalistic and you thrash against him when he brings his free hand up to play with your clit. You can tell he is doubling down to get you to cum and you watch as he leaks more precum on his fingers and that sets you off.

You have no time to warn him as you cum all over his face and tongue. The coil of pleasure snaps and you ride out your high chanting his name and holding onto the headboard for dear life.

When you finally come down and roll off of him both of you are breathing heavily and you crack your eyes open to see the very firm grip he has on the base of his cock.

“P-Please Y/N It hurts so bad. My balls are so heavy. Please let me cum. I’ve been your good boy. I’ve been so good.” Yoongi cries as tears of desperation leak from his eyes.

You slowly sit up on your knees and wipe his tears away. His cheeks are red and his eyes are swimming with more tears and all you want to do is make him feel better.

“Just let me get the condom sweetness. You have been such a good boy for me. Just last a little longer okay?” You coo as you reach into the bedside drawer to grab the condom.

Yoongi sighs in relief as you rip the packet and roll the condom onto his cock. The sensation has his cock twitching frantically and you bite back a smile.

“How do you want this?” You ask softly as you reach up to wipe more tears from his face.

“Don’t care. Just wanna be inside of you.” He mutters as tears still slip down his face and his body is thrumming in anticipation.

You climb on top of him deciding that riding him will be your best bet and when his cockhead runs through your folds he tenses up and grits his teeth so hard you could see the muscles in his jaw working.

“Deep breaths Yoongs.” You reminded him as he cracked his eyes open.

“I’m not going to last long. I’m so close to the edge that it’s insane. If you want to feel me inside of you I’m going to need to you sink down on my cock before I cum.” He warns as you finally do as he says and you take a deep breath and sink down.

Yoongi arches violently off the bed nearly knocking you off it as you put your hands on his chest and try to steady yourself.

You can feel his cock twitching inside of you and you open your mouth to taunt him but his hands are on your hips and he gives you no time to adjust as he fucks up wildly into you.

“Yoongi! Slow. Hurts!” You cry out as he thrusts and hits your G-spot effortlessly.

“I can’t babe. I have to move because I have to cum. There is so much heat and pressure down there. And you feel so tight and hot against me. Fuck you feel so good." I’m not going to last. Honest.” He says in a broken whine as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts.

The burn of his cock stretching you is still there but it is quickly replaced by burning pleasure.

Yoongi is fucking into you wildly, his hair is a mess on the pillow and the grunts and moans that leave his mouth are pornographic.

“Want you to rub your clit. Want you to cum with me, baby. I can’t hold back.” He warns as your hand quickly finds your clit and you rub it, arching your back to get him to hit deeper inside of you.

Chaos ensues.

You moan his name as your second orgasm catches both of you by surprise. You feel your walls flutter around his aching length and you cream his cock, wailing his name as it leaks out of you and down his shaft covering his balls.

Yoongi tips off the edge soon after.

His hands are harsh on your hips and he pounds up into you so forcefully that your teeth chatter in your mouth. You feel him twitch and he cries out your name in ecstasy as he cums hard into the condom

And cums

There is so much and he is still thrusting through it all as he empties himself inside of you.

You slump down on his chest as everything feels warm and fuzzy. Yoongi is breathing raggedly in your ear as his cock twitches inside of you and leaks out the last of his cum.

You are so spent your bones feel like jelly.

You lean your head up to see Yoongi crying and you wipe his tears away.

“It just felt so good. Fuck there was so much pressure and now it’s gone and I’m just so happy. Fuck two weeks without cuming is awful.” He comments as you finally slip off his cock and he hisses.

You walk to the washroom to get cleaned up and bring out a towel for him

His dark hair is plastered to his face and a sheen of sweat is covering his body.

You pull the condom off and snicker when you see truly how much cum is inside of it. He clearly was very pent-up and you giggle when you throw it out. You clean off the shaft and his balls and snuggle into bed with him, throwing the towel in the laundry you know you will have to do tomorrow.

“Fuck that orgasm was wild. I think I passed out at one point.” He admits to you as he wraps his arms around your body and you snuggle into his chest.

“You came a lot. Like a lot. The condom was almost full.” You say to him as he blushes and you press a kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t be embarrassed it’s sexy.” You say as you fall into a lapse of silence.

“That was torture but also all sorts of hot. It has been a long time since I have cum like that.” He says softly petting your hair and pressing kisses to your temples.

“Want to do it again?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“As long as you don’t make me wait two weeks. My balls were aching the whole second week. Fucking torture.” He grits out as you giggle.

“Worth it?” You ask staring into his softened eyes.

“Worth it.” He admits with a smile.

TAG LIST

@caught-in-the-afterglow

@hearteyes4hobi

@m00njinnie

@stayonmars

@marihoneywk

@mustbeaweasleyginger

@xmspurple7x

@taekritimin123

@lerasi

@dejaariana

#Min yoongi #Yoongi #Yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi/reader #yoongi/reader smut #yoongixreader #yoongixreader smut #bts fic #yoongi fic #min yoongi fic #bts fanfiction

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shiki-jin · 5 months

Text

YOUR CELESTIAL MAJESTY • SAGAU

(part 0 here)

was listening to TruE on loop while writing the last part of this, it's genuinely such a good song ugwvdya

also can you spot the contradiction ;D it's plot relevant i promise

not proofread, dont bully me ill write a thesis on why youre a meanie

—

you had long deleted genshin, since you had other things to do. you had wanted to go back to the game for a while now, now that you were less busy, but there was just one little problem.

it was now taking up nearly triple the amount of space that it was when you uninstalled it. around 300 whole gigabytes.

jesus christ, what phone can even handle this???

your phone, apparently. because as you opened the game to see if maybe a miracle would happen and that if maybe they would just, like, remove half of the things in the game, it just… kinda loaded?

no installing new files, no checking for anything, no nothing…. just an immediate pan to the gates of celestia.

you decided to check if it was the right genshin since this was just way too weird, but countering your judgement, every link you found led you to the same game, leading you to believe it not to be a bootleg or an illegal version.

guess i’ll trust it then.

you clicked on the gates which opened smoothly, and your screen turned white. then, the symbols of the seven elements appeared in gray.

and then the game just… opened. no loading time, once again. no getting stuck on the geo symbol, nothing. nada. just a smooth entrance into what you had to assume to be teyvat — but your surroundings didn't really support that claim.

the grass was brown and just looked off, the sky was gray. a darker shade than, say, mond’s walls, but it was like one of those game crashes.

well, except you could still move around.

you moved your current character around (the traveller? since when were they the only one in your team?) and decided to open the map after not figuring out where you could possibly be.

hold on, this is springvale? since when?

eveything looked dead, like it had been rotting for a century. you tried to ignore it though, and teleported to the inside of mondstadt. surely this was just some glitch, right? one that would fix itself if you teleported?

maybe the world loaded incorrectly, maybe the fact that nothing took time to load meant that it couldn't load, maybe this or that, maybe…

maybe this really was how the game looked normally. you hadn't done any quests though, so you wondered if it could be restored.

you took a screenshot of the your surroundings — the stone, worn down and dirty. the houses which looked to be in a horrible state, and… the npcs, all sickly and pale, like they were starving.

you went to reddit (yes, reddit), and posted the screenshot, asking if it was normal.

you closed the game and decided to take a nap, too tired to really deal with this shit any further.

while you slumbered, people replied to your post.

╰┈➤ lol me too anon, me too

╰┈➤ isn't the game closed or wtv? how'd you get this wtf

╰┈➤ they're trolling

╰┈➤ o makes sense oops

╰┈➤ So we’re all still mourning huh

╰┈➤ jokes aside that's a super impressive edit ngl

you remained unaware of the truth, but you'd find out soon enough.

actually, you'd find out now, apparently…

what the fuck?? why is my bed so hard now?

you groaned and forced your eyes open, seeing a dark, nearly black sky.

the only light was a single star, lingering right above you.

“since when was i outside...?"

a voice spoke to you, answering your question.

“you always have been, have you not? but would you like to head inside, my lord?”

... huh? i recognize that voice...

—

p.s. place your bets on who it is, i’m thinking of one specific character but if there's a fan fav i'll make it them instead since i haven't written anything beyond this point (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

p.s.s. don't expect updates to this series too quickly, i wish i could write as quick as i think of ideas but sadly that's not the case orz

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sagau #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yippie #genshin self aware #genshin self aware au

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the-apocrypha · 2 months

Text

Cottagecore Series DVD Bonus Features

By popular request: the deleted scenes of how Dream and Hob ended up confessing their respective Big Secrets to one another. Below the cut are a series of conversations that take place a few days after Dream announces his pregnancy with Orpheus, and they are incredibly angsty. They also heavily feature abortion as a conversation topic. These were originally written to intercut with at least two miracles but didn't end up working out due to tone issues, and also don't really work as a standalone fic, so. If you're interested--enjoy!

The possibility of a child—their child, their own, of them—had occasionally crossed Hob’s mind, in the same way that other fantastical things like dragons and public libraries did. Fleeting. Unformed. Simple, wonderful little daydreams.

The reality of it was both impossibly more exciting and terrifying than he could have ever imagined.

Hob thought of a beautiful child with tiny pointed ears and glowing amber eyes. He thought of a babe born to the world still and pale, never to draw a single breath of life. He thought of all the stories his mother used to tell him, the skipping games and the toy swords and songs that lived inside of him, waiting to be passed down to someone small and new. He thought of a fae child, enamored of the forest and magic and books of learning, with little use for its mortal father.

Once, when Hob was young, his mother had been called to help an ewe who had been laboring for the better part of the day. Twin lambs, both trying to emerge at the same time.

They’d had mutton for dinner, that night. And for many nights after that.

Hob could not stop thinking about it. About everything.

What if the child came out completely human.

What if the child came out completely fae.

“You told me once,” Hob said, the words leaving his mouth even as lead weights sank pits into his stomach, even as his heart said don’t ask this don’t ask this don’t do it, but he had to, he had to know. “You told me once. That it took you a very long time to grow up.”

Dream paused. “Yes,” he said, at length. “But time in the realm of the fae is not so… linear as it is here. It is—it was subject to neither law nor order. Time was fickle. Changeable.”

“You said that it was almost a hundred years.”

“That was… a guess,” Dream said.

Hob stared.

“It was unusual,” Dream added. He did not meet Hob’s eyes. “It. It was a choice I made. The rest of my siblings came of age much faster than I.”

“How fast?” Hob asked, heart in his throat.

Dream swallowed.

“How fast?”

“The child is half mortal, Hob it should not—it will not age as a fae child would. It cannot, it—it will not have the same power, the same gifts, and moreover, the laws of this universe would not allow—”

“Oh, you know that, do you?” Hob asked, eyebrows raised. “Like you knew that a mortal man couldn’t get you pregnant in the first place?”

Dream flinched.

Hob sighed, and scrubbed at his face. “I’m just. I’m just thinking. We don’t know what we’re going to get, eight months from now—” If they were going to get anything at all. “—and we’ve got zero precedent to go off of, here. It. It could be anything. It could grow like a human and take sixteen years and be done. But, it could also…”

“It will not,” Dream said, but there was a traitorous wobble in his voice.

“It could,” Hob insisted. “It could, Dream, and we just. I just want to be prepared for that. I want you to be prepared for that.”

Dream stared, like the whole world was crashing down around him. As if he had not considered this at all. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Hob—”

“But, listen—listen, it’ll be okay,” Hob said hurriedly, and took Dream’s hands into his own. Put on the bravest face he could muster. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll be with you every step of the way, for. For as long as I can be. Even if it means being stuck in the terrible twos for an entire decade. You just might have to do the teenage years on your own, that’s all. And. You know. The thousand years that come after that.”

Dream closed his eyes.

Hob tried desperately to rally. “And, hey! The good news is, at least I won’t be around to give any dodgy sex talks when it comes time for that, since I obviously—”

“Hob,” Dream said.

“Though clearly pregnancy prevention isn’t your strong suit either,” Hob allowed.

“Hob.”

Dream’s eyes were open again, and they were full of tears.

“Hob,” Dream said again, and it caught in his throat. “Hob, I—I am not going to live for another thousand years.”

Hob frowned. “But—”

“I made,” Dream said, and with the next blink the tears spilled over, “a bargain.”

The reason that Hob had kept it a secret for so long (was because he was a coward) was because, in his opinion, there had been no good that would come of the truth.

Dream had assumed that the people of Eskham had turned against Hob for being a hedgewitch. He’d assumed in turn that mortals were prejudiced against any being with magic, which was a category that happened to include the fae but more importantly included Hob, who did not have the ability to summon tornadoes or fell ancient oaks. Dream still sweetly seethed about the injustices Hob’s own people had done upon him. He had yet to even once seem concerned for his own safety.

This was fair.

Dream had, after all, taken out an entire village of mortals in one wrothful fell swoop.

Now, Dream had confessed what had happened in the aftermath of that massacre—what he had so readily sacrificed, to save Hob’s life—and it had been devastating in its own right. It had left Hob awake at night, imagining what it would be like to grow older and older and older, while his child did not.

But it had also pulled on the string that unraveled whatever remained of their tapestried joy at the possibility of impending parenthood. The happiness was gone. The happiness should never have existed in the first place, because the ache of its absence was far worse than to have never known it at all. Hob could not believe he ever felt such simple, mindless elation at what had quickly become a question to which every answer was more horrifying than the last.

Hob thought of a babe with perfectly pointed ears, stolen away in the night, drowned in the river.

Hob thought of a child with huge, phosphorescent eyes, tied to a stake above a pile of dried tinder. Screaming.

Hob thought of black-nailed teenager who had had forty-odd years of childhood with its parents before they succumbed to old age, and left their child alone in a world it did not belong in. Orphaned. Ostracized. Hunted.

It filled Hob’s stomach and left him unable to eat. It pressed down on his chest at night, and he could not sleep.

And he knew what he needed to do.

At the same table where Dream had confessed not three days ago, Hob sat himself heavily on the bench.

Dream stared back wanly. He’d spent most of the morning vomiting copiously, which perhaps made this timing even worse, but Hob knew if he did not say it now he might never say it at all.

“Dream,” Hob said carefully. The words stuck in his throat like glass, and they tore him open one by one as he forced them out. “There’s. The other day, when you told me about the bargain you made. I—there’s something that I should. Something I should have told you, before—something. Something.” He swallowed. “Something I. Something.” His nails dug into his palms. His heart was pounding in his ears. “Something—”

“Hob.”

Dream’s hand splayed across his chest is like ice on fire. Hob sucked in a breath, and relished the burn.

He seized Dream’s hand in his own. Looked Dream in the eyes. Prepared to pull this one last thread of sanity for the person he loved more than anything in this world.

“Something,” Hob said unevenly, holding onto Dream like a lifeline, “that I should have told you a long time ago. About. About Eskham.”

Dream tilted his head, brows drawing together. “Eskham?”

Hob nodded.

“What about it?” Dream asked.

He had no idea. He had no clue.

“That day,” Hob said, and he was gripping Dream’s hand hard as if he could prevent the inevitable withdrawal. “When they came for me.”

And Dream nodded. He reached out with his other hand to rest it on Hob’s forearm—a gesture meant as supportive that only served to make Hob’s stomach drop to new depths.

But this was not about him. This was not even about Dream. It was about their child, carried one day into a town square with pitchforks at its throat and devil spawn in its ears. It was about deserved truths.

“That day,” Hob said again. He swallowed against a dry tongue. Against the heart that was trying to escape through his throat. “That day. The mob. They weren’t looking for me.”

Dream stared.

Hob’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he might be sick.

He watched, as Dream’s face went from confusion, to realization, to—

Bloodless.

Grey. Dead eyes and parted lips. Staring, but not seeing.

“I—defended you,” Hob made himself say. “I wouldn’t tell them. Where you were. I told them that I loved you, that you were just as natural as any other creature in this realm and that I would rather die before I let any of them hurt you, and—”

Dream yanked his hands back.

Hob tried to hold on, but he wasn’t quick enough. Not strong enough.

“You,” Dream whispered.

“I don’t regret it,” Hob said frantically, almost angrily. He was losing control, the tidal wave of panic and horror sweeping him out to a roiling sea he could not swim in, and he barely knew which words would leave his mouth when he opened it again. “I haven’t regretted it for a single second, Dream, not once, not ever, I’d have burned on that stake a thousand times over before I let them touch you, I’d—”

And Dream bolted.

Hob leapt to his feet to follow—but his calf muscle seized, and he careened to the side and just barely managed to grab the table at the last second. Stood there, panting, gripping the table as his calf cramped hard enough to render the entire leg useless. Staring at the empty doorway.

He deserved this, he supposed.

It didn’t make it hurt any less.

The summer air was thick and sweet beneath the canopy of the forest. The trees mostly blocked the breeze, but so also the warmth of the sun, which made it about as pleasant as any place was during the midday heat. They were sat at the base of an ancient yew tree that Dream favored, not far from the cottage, and had been for some time. Ravens chattered and rustled softly overhead. A large halo of bird shit was slowly accumulating around them.

Dream inhaled as if to speak, for the third time in about as many minutes. This time, though, the words came.

“I do not want. Our child. To be hunted.”

Hob closed his eyes. “I know.”

“We do not know what powers it will be born to. What features it will be born to.”

Unspoken—the slimmest chance, the highest hope, that it would somehow be born wholly mortal.

A mortal body. A mortal magic. A mortal lifespan.

“We’ll do whatever we have to, to protect them. Whatever it takes. You know we will,” Hob said, and even as anxiety turned his stomach over, rage flared through him hot and fast. “Anyone that tries to lay a finger on our child, I’ll—I’ll kill ‘em. I would. Anyone. Everyone. And if they think I’m terrifying just wait until they meet the thirty-foot forest nightmare right behind me that can summon hail and rent the earth.”

Dream swallowed. “Hail and earth. Did not save you.”

Hob tightened his grip around Dream’s waist. “Yes it did.”

“You—”

“Yes it bloody well did. You saved my life that day, you fought, and if you hadn’t been there I—”

“If I had not been there,” Dream interrupted darkly. He barked one harsh, bitter laugh. “If I had never inflicted myself upon you in the first place, then no mob would have ever come for you at all. You would be—”

“Lonely,” Hob said. He tried desperately to keep the frustration from rising. “I told you. I would have been lonely, and bored, Dream, and I would have died in that house feeling as if I’d never truly lived at all. You are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“I nearly killed you,” Dream said.

“You saved—”

“And now,” Dream continued, staring into the depths of the forest, “I have attempted to thrust a child upon you, without your consent. I have tried to sentence you to spending the rest of your meager years consumed in the care of a creature that will only suffer as a result of my own hubris—my own selfishness—and it will resent us. It will hate us. It will hate me, and it will be right to do so for—”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” Hob said, scrambling around in front of Dream, and cupping his face.

Dream stared determinedly to the side, with eyes that were red-rimmed and shiny. His breaths came uneven and jagged.

“You and I both know that you didn’t get pregnant on purpose,” Hob said fiercely. “You didn’t know better. I didn’t know better. Right?”

“Hob—”

“This isn’t something that you’ve done to me. To us. Neither one of us is to blame here. Not one little bit. And it wouldn’t matter anyway if it was, because whatever happens, you know that we’re in this together. We’re going to do what we always do, and make it work. Figure it out. Pregnancy, childbirth, parenthood, all of it. Together. Yeah?”

Dream set his jaw, and at last met Hob’s eyes. Slowly, he reached up, and pulled Hob’s hands away from his face.

“You argue. That we are absolved of any guilt, for what strife our child may face in life. Because we held no intention of conception, in our couplings,” Dream said.

“...Yes?” Hob said, eyebrows raising. “I don’t think we can be blamed for bringing a child into the world when we didn’t know it was possible in the first place.”

“Incorrect,” Dream disagreed.

Hob opened his mouth, but Dream continued too quickly.

“Ignorance acquits us from blame in the conception of this child, yes.” Dream’s hand moved, in the periphery of Hob’s vision, delving into the folds of his robe. “But we are not without agency, in these early months of pregnancy.”

Dread swung sudden and hard into Hob’s chest, like a fist.

“...What do you mean?”

Dream held out his hand between them, and uncurled his fingers. A cluster of flowers rested there.

Tansy.

“It sings to me of… release,” Dream said. His thumb brushed over golden petals like spikes. “Of choice. Liberty. Of the harmonization of poison and medicine, as one.”

Hob took in a deep breath, because he was, for the first time in days, hopeful.

Hob was also terrified.

Hob was sick, sick, sick, sick.

“I believe,” Dream whispered, eyes boring in Hob’s, “that it would be enough. To—take care of it.”

There was a cup of water on the table, steaming and yellow with tansy.

Choice, Dream said it sang. Release. Liberty. The harmonization of poison and medicine, as one.

But to Hob, it was silent as a grave.

Dream was holding the cup so tightly his knuckles had gone white. The steam had long disappeared from the cup, leaving only a stagnant yellow tonic. Hob had offered to leave the cottage twice and allow Dream some privacy, and on the second time Dream had grabbed his hand, hard, and he hadn’t let go since.

Hob’s fingers ached where they were threaded through Dream’s, but he did not complain.

He sat in silence, and watched Dream raise the cup to his mouth.

Watched him inhale.

Watched him close his eyes.

Watched him press the rim of the cup to his lips.

Watched as Dream froze, and was perfectly still for an eternity save for the tremble of the cup in his grasp—

And the cup slammed down onto the table, sloshing poison everywhere, and Dream gasped, “I cannot. I cannot, forgive me, Hob, I—”

Hob grabbed him and pulled him in hard. “It’s okay—”

“—I cannot do it, I cannot—”

“—you don’t have to—”

“I should,” Dream snarled, gripping the fabric of Hob’s tunic and pushing back. There were tears streaming down his face. “I should end it, I should be rid of it. It is. It is the only humane option, the only option that guarantees that—that—”

“I know, love,” Hob said miserably, his own throat going tight and hot. “I know that. But—”

“Hob,” Dream choked out. He tried to inhale, but could not. “Hob, I can—hear it.”

Hob’s heart skipped a beat, and his mouth went numb. “Y-you—”

“I can—” Dream slapped his hands over his mouth. He stared at Hob in horror.

Dream, who could hear the songs of river stones and the herbs in the garden. Who communed with foxes and ancient oak trees alike. Who had come to Hob with news of this pregnancy but without explanation as to how he knew.

“You can hear it,” Hob repeated blankly.

“I should not have told you,” Dream said, shaking his head. His eyes were blank and unseeing and wet with tears. “I. I should not have told you, I told myself I would not, I—it should not matter. It does not matter.”

“What does it sound like?” Hob asked.

Dream looked up at him. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

“Dream, what does it sound like?”

He shouldn’t ask.

He couldn’t not know.

“Like. A songbird,” Dream whispered.

A songbird.

“The most beautiful—” Dream choked on a sob. “The most beautiful songbird, Hob, the most wonderful songbird in the world.”

And Hob. Hob, quite abruptly, could not imagine a world where he did not one day get to hear that song. He could not imagine a world in which he did not get to hold their child in his arms this winter and instantly fall in love with whatever features the world had seen fit to give them, mortal or fae or some splendid combination of both.

He could not imagine what it would be like, for Dream to sit at this table and drink down poison and then listen to the song of their child go silent.

Dream sobbed in his arms. He begged for forgiveness—from Hob. Their future child. The universe. I have failed, he said, over and over again. Selfish, and weak, and worthless, he named himself, and he would not be consoled with any combination or repetition of words Hob had to offer.

But still, the tansy sat untouched.

Eventually, it went out the window.

And the songbird lived another day.

#ask and ye shall receive #this is sooooo close to actually working as a standalone fic #but not quite #alas #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #mpreg #abortion #sandman #cottagecore verse #my writing

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bangaveragewhitewine · 1 year

Text

I'm yours, all yours

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, established relationship)

October 1991

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since.

An autumn afternoon together shows you a little bit more of the man you’re falling in love with.

Word Count: 6.2K

Content / Warnings: Contains the main food groups - fluff, smut & hurt+comfort. Reader has some self doubt / anxious thoughts. This is 18+ - if you are not 18+ hit the back button and read something else. Oral (m receiving, minor f receiving), p-in-v sex. Feeeeelings. Eddie & Reader are mid twenties. Reader written as AFAB using fem pronouns.

This is best enjoyed after reading their origin story crazy-mad for you (part of the Happy Hours series)

Author’s note: I’m planning to follow CMFY with some one-shots from throughout Eddie & Bartender’s relationship. I have some loose ideas but this one came from a deleted scene I couldn’t squeeze into the main fic so reworked it! Beta’ed by @specialagentmonkey (theee best) Thank you for the love on CMFY! Reading your replies and reblogs and tags made my shitty wee brighter. Hope you enjoy this cosy peek and have a gorgeous day 🖤

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since. Every moment your lips aren’t on each other is like a thousand paper-cuts to Eddie’s heart (so soft inside the facade of Mean Metalhead he has curated for himself). He makes you want to write his name next to yours in pink gel pen, framed with sparkly little hearts.

Two months and counting with Eddie and you learn something new about him every day; he loves tattoos but needles make his stomach twist, he meets his friend Steve once a month for a dude-date breakfast (but sees as much as he can of him and his other friends when their schedules line up), he sings with his band but needs at least five drinks before karaoke.

When you ask questions, when you're curious, he tells his long and meandering stories with wandering tangents which tell you so much about the man you’re falling in love with. He opens up to you, tells you things very few people know - about his mom, how he ended up with his Uncle Wayne. It hasn’t been long, but you already can’t wait to meet him.

Two whole months (closer to three really) and you’re sure you don’t want to ever have a single day without Eddie in your life, and your bed. And yet you still haven’t asked the question that has been on your mind since before you two ever got together.

It’s October now; Autumn is here and the city has turned chilly. Sweltering summer nights are no longer and you and Eddie have been spending afternoons and late nights when you’re not working watching your favourite horror films. When he had told you how much he loved Halloween - just as much as you, if not a wee bit more - you knew Eddie Munson was the one.

It’s Friday, late afternoon and you had reluctantly spent the night in your own apartment. The shame radiating from the mountain of laundry in the corner of your room had become too powerful to ignore and so you had forgone a night of being held and loved-on to tackle it and the other life-admin you had been ignoring. Eddie had suggested staying at your place, but you knew he would distract you too much with his kisses and touches (which he doled out generously whenever you were near).

You had missed your boyfriend terribly, almost like a missing limb or a gorgeous big parasite (affectionate) that you had grown more than fond of. Eddie had the night off work but still drove you to and from the bar, even stayed for a drink until Frank shooed him away for trying to distract you. You had missed him so much that you had kept him on the phone to talk a little longer when he got home before saying goodnight and promising you would see him before your shift together tomorrow. You had spent nights apart before, days and nights when you or Eddie had clashing schedules but you felt his absence more than ever today.

Your laundry and errands had never been completed with such efficiency as when you had the motivation of seeing Eddie as soon as they were ticked off your to-do list.

You arrived at his door and buzzed the intercom for his apartment, laden down with an overnight bag (over-weekend really) and Tupperware containers full of homemade soup and lasagna for before your shift at Jackie’s. Your cheeks are warm and you can feel heat prickling under your arms alongside the swelling of anticipation in your chest. Eddie buzzes you in and comes to meet you, a big grin on his face for his girl.

His hair is up in a messy bun, held in place by a black velvet scrunchie you insisted was his now. He looks cosy in sweats, a tank top and his red and black flannel which you know to be softer than soft. Eddie hadn’t even bothered with shoes, braving the stairs in his socks so that he could see you sooner. You match his smile when you catch sight of him; cosy Eddie is far from the leather-jacketed bouncer you had got to know.

When he sees how many bags you’re carrying, he rushes to lighten your load (doesn’t even skid on the tiles).

“You walked here with all that?! I could’a picked you up!” he said, shouldering your overnight bag before blessing you with a kiss.

“It’s like two blocks, not a marathon.” You roll your eyes at him but pout for another kiss anyway as he rings for the elevator.

Eddie will never refuse you a kiss. He pecks little smooches to your smile as it grows wider. “I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too.” You nudge his cheek with your nose, pecking at it like a little bird as the lift arrives; you step in ahead of him, pressing the button for the third floor with your now free hand.

He asks if you slept okay (not as well without him, but you don’t say that) and tells you about the bag of free bagels he scored as a thank you from the man who ran the deli a few doors down. The guy’s hand-truck had lost a wheel while he was taking in a delivery that morning and Eddie helped him out, fixed the wheel too. He knew how much you loved the bagels from there and it felt fateful that his reward was a bag of your favourite everything bagels.

“Neighbourhood hero,” you sing, following him into his one-bedroom flat. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Trigonometry. French. Um… skateboarding!” he lists, as he drops your bag inside his bedroom door. “I fucking suck at skateboarding.”

The thought of Eddie on a skateboard makes you smile - definitely a little meanly, what a dork - but you store that one for later.

The bag of Tupperware barely makes it to the kitchen counter before Eddie’s arms are around you, pulling you back against his chest. His nose presses into the base of your neck, huffing hot breaths against your sweet-smelling skin before kissing up his well-worn path.

“I really missed you,” he murmurs, hips nudging forward against your jean-clad behind for emphasis.

“Missed me or missed getting your dick sucked?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Both. Mainly you.” His grin is impish as you turn to loop your arms around his neck, backed right up to the wiped-clean Formica. You let him lift you onto the counter so that he can stand between your spread knees.

“I missed you and your dick, so we’re even. And we have the whole weekend together to get reacquainted, huh?” You twist a loose curl around your finger, tugging to watch it spring and coil.

Eddie feels like a swooning maiden when he’s the centre of your attention like this, being flirted with. He loves it and he knows he’s in love with you. He had fallen first, long before you had even realised your banter at work was more than just that.

His fingers creep up your thighs, the silver glinting at you as you place your focus on making up for a night apart as you make out in his little kitchen.

Eddie smells shower-fresh, clean with a hint of spice, and the curls at the base of his neck are still a little damp. He shivers, giggling against your mouth when you run your finger down his spine. “Your nails are tickly,” he says with a pretend scowl.

You know he loves your nails on his back; when they’re digging in like claws to leave him littered with red scratches, and when they’re tickling up and down in soothing strokes as he’s falling asleep.

He takes your hand and brings it around to see the fresh coat of deep red on your nails. “You painted them!” he says, his nose scrunches cutely when you poke it.

“I did. The black was getting chipped and gross.” You brought the black polish anyway in case he wanted to try it out again, thrown somewhere in your make-up bag.

Eddie rests his chin on your chest; your breasts have become his favourite place to lay his head, closely followed by the squishy pillow of your thigh (there’s a third-place tie between your tummy and your butt). You dot kisses to his forehead beneath the shaggy bangs, trailing up into his hair when he presses his face against your soft sweater.

“Eddie?” “Hmm.” His voice is muffled. “You hungry?”

His head turns so you can hear him more clearly, “Hungry for you.”

Hopeful mischief twinkles in his hot-chocolate eyes when he peers up at you.

“Horndog.” “Yes?” “Gross boy.” “Unh, yes. Say more dirty things to me, baby.”

He has a look of hammed-up ecstasy on his face, scrunched brow and bitten lip. Even though you know he’s pretending, it makes the horny cavewoman part of your brain think about his face when he is actually deep inside you or desperate for your touch - it makes your tummy feel like lava. One night apart makes you realise just how bad you’ve got it for him. You shove at his head and Eddie leans back with a throaty giggle before squeezing your hips again.

To balance out your playful push and satiate the need building in your gut, you pull him in for a kiss - open-mouthed with the dirty slide of tongue that sounds loud in your ears. Your legs wrap around him, arms tighten.

“Carry me?” “Bed?” “Sofa, bed. Wherever.” “Potato, tomato.” “Eddie.”

He sweeps you off the counter - you’re still surprised and impressed at his strength until you remember him lifting the barrels and kegs at work. You reward him with distracting kisses as he carries you to the soft brown couch and smile up at him when he lays you down gently. He forgets about gentle as he removes his shirt and pounces on you, resuming your dirty kisses from the kitchen.

Merlot-red nails push the hem of Eddie’s tank top up his pale back, slipping beneath to pull him tighter to you between your thighs. You can already feel him growing hard; you nip at his lower lip and kiss away the sting.

“Sit up for a sec.” You tap his side but Eddie needs to kiss you just a little bit more before he can pull himself away.

“Where you goin’?” he asks, a little breathless. Blown-black pupils eat up the brown warmth with his voracious want; he watches as you sit up on your knees and pull your cosy sweater off, then the white vest beneath, leaving you in your creamy silk bra and blue jeans.

“Pretty,” Eddie whispers, his fingers brushing the little bow between your breasts. He was in awe of your little collection of bras, the matching underwear too. He even loved you in the cotton comfy pants that hugged just right when your cramps ached.

“Sit back against that end. And take your pants off, handsome.” You smile when he stares at you, “Do you need help?”

Eddie barely shakes his head as he wriggles out of his sweatpants and sits where you told him to. You balance each other out, taking turns to take the lead. You’re still learning, and despite Eddie’s non-academic tendencies, he’s studious and dedicated to learning what you like, where and how to touch you. You’re his favourite subject and he’s yours too.

You smile and knee-walk across the chasm between you, situating yourself between his legs to take his face in your hands and kiss him. He makes a small joyful noise when you begin to kiss down to his jaw and nuzzle at the dusting of stubble.

“Smell good,” you murmur, teasing delicate skin with your teeth before bestowing him sucking a wet kiss, enough to leave just a hint of a bruise there. It makes Eddie groan quietly, a desperate little noise at the back of his throat. He’s louder when you slip your fingers down his chest and into the waistband of his black boxers - they have little skulls on them.

“Cute,” you run your thumb over the elastic at the top as your knuckles brush his cock. Almost an echo of Eddie’s assessment of your bra moments ago.

Hips push up, almost like an electric shock. There’s a tiny noise that you just about hear, deep back in his throat, a quiet grunt as Eddie covers your hand and shows you what he needs. His pretty lashes flutter as you look at each other, sparking fire in your gut again. You smile and move your hand away, halting his protest by pulling the black cotton down his thighs to drop them on the floor.

You can feel saliva pooling under your tongue when you see him - you really did miss him, all of him, while you were apart. He’s thick and a few centimetres over average length; a nice dick (rare and wonderful) and he knows what to do with it to leave you brainless and whimpering. Eddie gets one more kiss before you make yourself comfy, lying on your tummy between his legs. Little kisses are peppered on his hairy thighs, over the black and shadow of ink, before you take him in your hand, then your mouth.

Eddie is in awe of how pretty you look like this, how your lashes kiss your cheekbones and the stretch of your lips (he goes a little crazy if you’re wearing lipstick too, really gets him going). His breath comes hard through his nose as you tongue the head of him, press against the thick vein before taking as much as you can into your mouth.

“Shit,” he growls, feeling your nails on his thigh as you begin to bob your head steadily. His hips and thighs tense and spread a little wider, needy, as he keeps himself in check. Your other hand holds the base of him, what you haven’t yet tried to fit into that pretty mouth.

“Look at my girl, so gorgeous,” he murmurs, smiling when your lashes flutter. His girl. “So pretty.”

You hum affirmative, taking more in when his head tips back to show off his pale throat and the little mark you left behind. His jaw tenses, twitches and you begin the slow bob of your head again. You look up past your lashes, watching his brow crease when you take him all the way.

“Shit shit shit,” his voice is a breathy growl that bleeds into a louder moan when he sees you looking up at him - his devil woman. “You’re going to kill me someday with that mouth, huh?” he says. The shake in his voice betrays him as he tries to act a little smooth, a little more together as you’re taking him apart.

You bob your head, imitating a nod, and bring your hand down to squeeze and roll his neglected balls for good measure. That makes him howl and he covers his face with his arm while you let that playful hand take over so you can catch your breath.

“Y’okay?” you ask, resting your cheek against his thigh as you move your hand a little faster.

“Mhmm, peachy,” he replies, eyes a little wild. You love the pink blush on his usually pale cheeks, love knowing that he’s like this because of you.

Eddie strokes your cheek as you take the head of him back between your lips, a tender little caress of his thumb that makes you close your eyes and lean in. You feel hot and slick between your legs, push your hips to the sofa cushion just a little to temper the ache.

He catches the little motion and his jaw drops a little - it clears his head just a little, zeroing in on you through his haze of arousal. “Oh my girl feelin’ needy too?” he asks, thumb pushing gently against your cheek.

You move your mouth off of him and nod, turning your head to kiss his palm. “Told’ju I missed you.”

Eddie’s grin can’t be contained. “C’mere then.” His hands run over your back, coaxing you into his lap.

Once you have rid yourself of your jeans and underwear you take up your throne on Eddie’s thighs. Your appetite for each other meant that he had started storing condoms in practically every room - there's a fresh box on the coffee table, bought that morning after he saw how low the reserves were.

Your arms wind around his neck, pressing yourself against Eddie as he kisses you again. Fingers drift between your legs, feeling just how slick you are for him - a combination of missing him and seeing the effect of your mouth on his face. You feel his smile against your mouth as you seek a deeper dirtier kiss, sucking that plump lower lip between your own.

One guitar-string scarred finger is joined by a second, rubbing slow firm circles that make you moan into his mouth. They press inside and his thumb takes up that slow wet rub, pulling more little needy noises from your lips as you take him back into your hand.

Hands and wrists cramp easily at this angle and you take a moment to pull back, biting your kiss-bruised lip before turning around on your hands and knees to present yourself to Eddie. Peeking over your shoulder with a cheeky smile, you see how his eyes blaze before grabbing for the box of Durex. You hide your grin against your arm when you hear him swearing at the plastic wrapping, calling the box ‘a fuckin’ shitbag’ when his nails struggled for purchase against it. There’s a tiny ‘yes!’ when he finally breaks in and you laugh quietly at you listen to the familiar tear-open of foil.

On his knees, he bends to kiss the rounds of your ass, then dips lower to taste you just once. “Fuckin’ so sweet,” he murmurs, wishing he had the willpower to not follow his dick that afternoon and dive into you instead - but there’s always later.

You gasp-giggle at the feeling of his tongue and rock back when you see him line himself up. “Please?” Your lips push into a playful pout, “Show me how much you missed me?” You love winding him up like this.

One side of his mouth curves up as he holds your hip, rubs the head against you to play you at your own game before pushing all the way in. Your jaw drops open, feeling full as Eddie rocks his hips minutely. You can feel him pushed right up against you inside and out, his thighs against the back of yours before he begins a deep dragging thrust.

“Shit, you feel good,” he murmurs, stroking your hip lovingly. “That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You nod, hating that you can’t see him despite how good this angle is for you both. “Eddie,” you whimper, feeling yourself flutter around him.

“Yeah, that’s who’s making you feel good, sweet thing. I’ve got you.” He squeezes your hip, the silver of his rings biting into the doughy softness as he watches his length disappear inside you over and over as he begins to get quicker and harder with his thrusts.

Your eyes nearly roll back as he pounds into you, fingers gripping the arm of the couch - it’s about the only thing keeping you up as Eddie fucks you and runs his mouth. It feels so good you can barely speak.

“That’s my girl. Going all cock-dumb on me?” he asks, squeezing the meat of your ass a little harder, watching it jiggle and bounce with his thrusts. “I’ll make you feel good like this every day if you let me. S’what you deserve, getting fucked like you need, huh?”

Your answering moan is spurred on not only by his words but the graze of his length on your g-spot. “Eddie, god! Yes, right there,” your voice is a babble, the words running into each other ‘yesrigh’there’ as it becomes the only thing you can say.

The pulsing gush around him, hot wet heat, makes Eddie moan with you. “I know, baby. I know.” His back teeth press together as he holds on, the cord of pleasure pulled tight in his pelvis. The slapping pounding sound fills the room but he can only hear you, almost crying with pleasure.

“Close,” you murmur, slumped forward a little more. The angle arches your back, pulls Eddie deeper. Your groan is shaky, broken with want.

“Me too, baby. Got me so wound up,” he murmurs. “Can you touch yourself for me?” He watches your hand move back between your legs, feels the graze of your fingers as you bring yourself closer, small tight circles that sync up with his punishingly good pace.

“Fuck! Eddie,” you whimper, feeling the inferno in your belly burn bright and hot as you see stars, tears springing as you come hard.

“Shit shit, that’s my girl. Oh yeah, fuck,” he grinds out, continuing his thrusts as your body shakes with pleasure. Eddie folds over you, wrapping his arms around you to bring you back into his lap like a rag doll. He can’t bear to not be as close to you as humanly possible as he nears his own orgasm, mouth pressed to your neck to kiss and pant against it as he hammers into you.

His fingers trail down, finding a quick rhythm that brings you to a shock of a second climax, shorter but no less intense than the first. You feel boneless, yet manage to pull his hand away when it becomes too much, holding his arm around your middle as the other curls up and loops around his neck. Your lips find their way to Eddie’s jaw, pressing wet kisses there. Your eyes are heavy, and yet you see the moment he falls apart.

His eyes close, face creasing in beautiful blissful agony as he comes holding you in his lap, your name on his tongue.

Your chest feels heavy, breath synced up as your fingers stroke up against his scalp, past the flyaways. He kisses you messily, so slow and without the same hurry he had mere moments ago.

Your noses brush against each other’s warm cheeks, lazy smiles pressing kisses as hands smooth and caress wherever is in reach. You feel fuzzy around the edges, warm all over with Eddie plastered to your back. You would both gladly overheat to stay like this a bit longer. Eddie’s lean arms are the only thing holding you together right now, grounded syrupy-sweet kisses that bond the broken bits back into place.

“Wanna see my girl,” he murmurs after a few moments mouthing at your shoulder, “Easy, babe.” Eddie’s hands on your waist help you to move from his lap, unsheathing him from your body. He wraps the condom in a tissue before lying back, inviting you into his arms with grabby hands.

You bring the blanket from the back of the sofa with you when you lie against his chest, sharing love-drunk kisses as you bask in the glow of each other.

It’s bright-cold outside the steamed-up windows; the afternoon sun lights the room. His neighbours will surely hate you, but when Eddie strokes his tongue against yours you forget to care.

You brush his sweaty bangs away and press a kiss to the centre of his forehead before resting your head against his chest, tucked under his chin as his hand finds yours. He kisses your knuckles and smiles down at you.

“Y’okay?” he checks, rosy-cheeked bright-eyed and deliriously happy. Sometimes he feels the need to pinch himself when he realises the woman he had been pining for is now his girlfriend. One time you had been lying together smoking and watching a rerun of Twin Peaks and he had actually asked you to pinch him - his nipple had ached for the rest of the night but at least he knew it was all real. And you had kissed it better.

Now you smile lazily up at him, real and cosy in his arms. “Never better,” you promise. Your nose scrunches when he kisses it and calls you his little bunny to make you laugh.

Eddie lights a cigarette and holds it to your lips when you’re too comfy to move. It brings you both back to the real world, back from the plain of absolute bliss. It’s quiet, neither feeling the need to fill the comfortable silence until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where’d you get them?” you ask, lifting your joined hands to finally speak the question you have been meaning to ask. Your fingers slot between Eddie’s, palm to palm, as you admire the silver.

“Been kinda building a little collection since school. Thrift shops mainly.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder; he’s careful not to jostle you too much as you lie against his chest. He pauses to catch a fallen eyelash on your cheek, holding it out to you to blow away. You smile a little and lift your head to wish for a thousand more afternoons like this.

“I have two nice ones; my friends pooled together for a graduation present for me, and the other one, this one,” Eddie shows you his right middle finger, a harmless flip-off to show you the black enamel heart with wings that he always wears. It’s smaller, less outrightly demonic than the others. The rest of his rings are swapped out, usually a lucky dip into a little dish on his bedside table, but this one stays on. “Bought this one for myself when the band went on tour. Something to remember, y’know?”

You had heard about Corroded Coffin’s big opportunity last year, playing a few dates as an opening act for a bigger metal band. Your thumb runs over the warm metal as he begins to speak again.

“It was the last day of tour and I was so fuckin’ tired. We were kinda convinced that we were going to be discovered or something, and the crowds really liked us but… it didn’t happen how we had planned.”

You expect to hear sadness in his voice but there is none. Maybe a hint of resignation that their dream hadn’t become reality.

“Me and Gareth had a fight on the last morning, both of us were hungover as fuck and antsy because it was all going to be over in a few hours. So I stormed off to get breakfast and clear my head, or get more fucked up.” Eddie’s little smile doesn’t meet his eyes; they look a little bit more glossy than usual. “It was my Mom’s birthday and I felt like shit. I would say I found this little jeweller-silversmith place but I think it found me.”

You squeeze Eddie tighter, feeling like he’s letting you see a whole new part of him. A beautiful little sentimental part that houses and holds dear the other woman he loved and the little boy he was when he lost her.

“It was way more money than I should have spent on something so small, but it felt right I couldn’t leave it behind y’know? I went in and it was right there.” His eyes sparkle as he remembers that feeling of all-over calm he felt that day in the little shop. “Went back and apologised to Gare and we played the last show, definitely our best one.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his mouth, “That’s a sweet story, Ed. Thank you for telling me.” Your voice is a whisper against his pillowy lips; you kiss those lips again and feel the silver against your cheek as Eddie kisses you back. Your chest feels like it could burst and there’s an annoying pressure at the back of your eyes.

“You’re gonna laugh at me but..” Eddie rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the arm of the sofa. He figures out his words before speaking again. “It’s like, everything happened for a reason - we didn’t get a big break but we’re all happy. Gareth got into art school, Jeff moved out of his Mom’s place and… I met you.”

Silence.

His honesty winds you, it hits you so hard in the chest that you can barely fathom the flurry of feelings like wings battering your chest from the inside. Your lower lip wobbles. Eddie is dead serious too; you know he’s not saying it to be playful. He has so much love in his battered heart and it oozes from him.

Eddie was expecting you to scoff or roll your eyes, call him ‘soft boy’ or something. Maybe a very small part of him thought you might brush him off (he didn’t let himself dwell on that bit). He certainly wasn’t expecting the teary look in your eyes.

“Shit, baby.” He thumbs your cheek and pouts back at you, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips; so sweet and slow like the maple syrup you have been adding to your coffees now that it’s Fall. “I mean it. If things went differently, if I didn’t come back, I wouldn’t have met the sexy new bartender, huh?”

You smile, laugh a little wetly and try to blame the post-sex rush for being weepy. “I guess I’m a little bit glad you came back to be annoying. Super selfish of me.”

You can’t help but think that there might be some parallel universe where you’re still shaking cocktails in Jackie’s but Eddie’s on stage opening for Metallica, Corroded Coffin at the top of the charts. With that thought comes a deep-sinking feeling that maybe someday you might not be enough and he will want that rockstar life; groupies, supermodels, a pretty blonde actress on his arm.... Not you.

Eddie kisses you again and pulls you close, cocooning the pair of you in the blanket. You find his hand to kiss the black enamel heart before resting your head, cheek to chest.

You have never felt so in love, nor have you felt so scared. Eddie feels lighter now that he has said out loud the thought about fate that has been rattling around his skull for too long. He feels your arms wrapping tighter around him, like he might disappear.

He presses his smiling lips fiercely to the crown of your head. “What’s goin’ on in here, huh? I can hear that big brain thinkin’ up a storm.” He thinks over everything he said; was he coming on too strong?

“I just really really like you, Ed,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. Telling him that felt so easy; maybe if you weren’t being sucked into an internal doom spiral you could play it up and roll your eyes, pretend it was icky to like him.

“Yeah? I really really like you too.” Your admission makes his heart sing; Eddie tries to temper his smile but can’t. He won’t pretend he’s not head over heels for you, he’d give you a vital organ if you needed it - hell, his heart was already yours.

He cups your cheek again, coaxing you to look at him. “What else? You’re like… a scared little bunny right now.” He concentrates all his love into how he’s holding you as if it could be transferred like magic from his fingertips.

“I just...”

He doesn’t force you to go on when you hide your face in his chest, feeling so stupid for being emotional. Your eyes burn, and he wishes he could be whatever you need right now. He’s not used to seeing his bossy flirty girl so unsure of herself; it makes him love you a little more. He looks up at the ceiling and squeezes your body gently.

“Hey. You don’t have to say anything, just listen okay? I’m serious about you, about... Everything I feel for you.” His voice shakes minutely but he takes a moment, stroking your back to centre himself. “I’m not going to up and leave someday to be a rockstar without you. I need you. Okay? You’re my girl. Best thing that’s happened to me in so so long.” Eddie presses a fiercely loving kiss to your head. “I’m yours, all yours.”

A tiny shaky sob escapes your throat, leaving you embarrassed. “I’m your girl,” you nod, looking up to see Eddie’s sentimental smile, his wet brown eyes. Your voice is thin and wobbly, like a broken pencil. “I’m so fuckin’ happy with you, Eddie.”

Neither of you says it, but ‘I love you’ is woven into your confessions, binding you together as you share that moment on Eddie’s squishy, comfy sofa.

You tilt your head to exchange teary-wet kisses, wobbly smiles on your lips as you begin to feel calmer.

“My baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t bottle shit up, okay? Doesn’t help.” He cups your face, wiping the last stray tears from your cheeks and presses kisses there as a balm.

“I know. I feel stupid for getting upset, it’s like so early for us..” You look down at his chest, trace the black ink you can reach before looking at his pretty face. You know it’s so early, so why get ahead of yourself when Eddie’s already made you a promise? You take a breath, close your eyes and focus on what you really want, “When can I come to see Corroded Coffin play?”

Eddie grins, laughs a little throaty. They had taken a little break after tour, played a few bars in the Spring to make sure they didn’t rust up. With Gareth settled back in college, they were ready to get back into it.

“We’re trying to get a gig for the end of the month. Andy knows a guy putting on a night close to Halloween. Jeff’s the organised one though, I’ll check with him tonight.” He kisses your head and smiles. “I gotta get you a shirt, huh?”

“Mhm, yes please. I heard the lead singer is so hot,” you say, smiling a little when he makes a happy noise deep in his throat. “Might throw my bra on stage if he’s as good as they say…” The thought of seeing your man on stage - your man - makes your tummy flutter.

“Yeah? Shit, lucky guy.”

You look up at Eddie and move yourself to rest your forehead against his. “The luckiest. I’m the luckiest girl though.” You mean it too, sealing it with a kiss.

Eddie cups the back of your head, pressing the loveliest kisses to your mouth. “Lucky fuckers,” he murmurs. You trade kisses back and forth, chasing lazy happy smiles for ‘just one more?’ until you need to move.

“Can I shower? Feel sweaty.” Your time together before work is already ticking away, though you’ve made excellent use of it so far.

“Can I come watch? I mean wash your back?” he asks, walking his fingers down your spine with a coy little smile.

“You just want to see soapy boobs,” you tut, looping your arms around his neck as he sits up, taking you with him.

“What guy doesn’t want to see soapy boobs?” he asks, incredulous at the thought.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, humming in agreement, “You still got that disposable camera?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide - you half expect his heart to beat out of his chest, eyes on stalks like a babbling cartoon. “Yes ma’am.”

He dumps you off his lap onto the sofa to root for the camera in his room. The sound of his sweary search carry down the hall as you laugh up at the ceiling.

You love him. You absolutely love Eddie Munson. He’s very easy to love.

Later, when you’re showered clean (a process which required getting just a little bit dirty again with Eddie worshipping you on his knees in the shower) and full-bellied after the dinner you had brought, you and Eddie get ready for work side-by-side in his room.

You’re putting mascara on in his mirror, humming to Queen despite Eddie’s protests, when you hear him call your name.

“Mhm?”

Eddie’s dressed in a black Henley and some jeans - his leather boots and jacket to go on next. You see the glint of silver around his neck as he nods for you to join him on the bed.

“Help me pick what rings to wear?” he asks, voice soft and tentative.

Your heart skips and you nod, crossing the gap to perch on his lap as you pick three more for him to wear - an upside-down cross, a very mean-looking skull, a silver signet ring with ‘EM’ engraved (the gift from his friends for graduation).

He lets you choose where they go and watches as you slip them onto his long fingers. “Perfect,” he murmurs, linking your hands together.

“Pretty damn perfect,” you agree, kissing the back of his hand so he will show you that bright and beaming grin.

You love him, you love him, you love him. And Eddie? He already can’t wait to put a ring on your finger.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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