#i have some ideas but its nearly midnight

[unhetalia]

I want... Arthur protecting Alfred from a physical threat in a way that demonstrates that despite Arthur mellowing out and prefering tea and biscuits to battle and conquest he has Not Lost His Edge.

[proxima-writes]

the right wrong number

pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6k

summary:

When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.

He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.

dear reader:

this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!

Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!

Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.

Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.

Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.

Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?

[Photo 01.jpg]

Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.

Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.

Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?

Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.

Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.

[Photo 02.jpg]

Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.

You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?

Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.

Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.

Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.

And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.

Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.

Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?

Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.

Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.

Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.

Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?

I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.

Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.

You still being a good girl and following my instructions?

Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?

You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.

Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?

Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.

You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.

I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.

Unknown Number: Like this?

[Photo 03.jpg]

Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.

Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.

Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?

Of course I am, baby.

Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?

Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.

No. He shouldn’t do any of that.

[Photo 04.jpg]

Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.

Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.

Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?

Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.

Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.

Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]

He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.

Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?

Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.

Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.

He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.

He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:

Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx

Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.

It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.

——————

You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.

“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”

You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.

“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.

“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”

“Never say never, babe.”

“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.

“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”

You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.

——————

Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.

Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.

“That’s the coach,” she explains.

Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.

“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.

“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.

You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.

“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.

“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”

Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”

You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”

——————

“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.

He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.

Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.

“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”

“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”

You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”

“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”

“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”

——————

Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.

His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.

“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”

“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.

“Me, too!” Sarah says.

“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.

You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.

Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.

“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.

You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.

A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.

“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.

“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”

The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.

“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.

“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.

“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.

“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.

If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?

——————

As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.

A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.

“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.

“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Bright and early.”

——————

Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.

He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.

Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.

——————

Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.

You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.

One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.

What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.

You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?

You delete the last line again with a groan.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?

You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.

——————

Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?

Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.

She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.

——————

Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.

On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.

“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.

“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“

“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”

“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.

“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.

“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.

“Looking forward to it.”

——————

To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.

“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”

You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”

“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”

A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.

“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”

You blink. “Uh—“

“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.

“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”

You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.

——————

Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.

“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.

“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.

A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.

“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.

“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.

“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”

“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”

“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”

“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”

“Really? You play anything?”

“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”

Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”

The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.

Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”

Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.

“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.

“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”

Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.

“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.

You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.

“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”

“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”

“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”

“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.

“It does,” you confirm.

Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.

“Check, please!”

——————

After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.

He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”

“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”

His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.

“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”

“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”

“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.

“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”

You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.

When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.

“Get in the truck, baby.”

——————

You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.

He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.

You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.

“Bedroom?” He asks.

“End of the hall,” you reply.

Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.

His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.

“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”

“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.

“Teasin’ me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”

Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.

“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”

“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”

“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”

He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.

“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”

“Mhm.”

An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.

“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”

Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”

He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”

You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.

His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.

Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.

“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.

“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”

His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.

Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.

It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.

“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”

“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.

He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.

He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.

“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”

Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You’re staying?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.

——————

1 Year Later

“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.

The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.

“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.

“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.

“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[luvsturniolo]

hi!! i rlly love ur writing and i wanted to ask if i could request something where readers reputation is ruined by a false rumor which leads reader to thinking they aren’t loveable but chris doesn’t think that cause he’s in love with her?

basically the trope “one believes they’re hard to love and someone who loves them like it’s breathing”.

ー ★ !! unloveable

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after some bad rumors are past around social media, you begin to overthink about whether or not you’re even loveable

a/n : ok but why this is request so fucking adorable ???? like the trope u put at the end makes me want to put my blood, sweat, and tears into this. UGHHHHH no matter who it's written, i'm gonna be 100% convinced it's not good enough because i love this prompt so insanely much

wc : 3.7k

you have been friends with the triplets for a few years now, and you all agreed to keep your face off of social media. it started when you jokingly voiced that you were a bit scared to be judged by the entire world. the triplets — mainly chris — took this seriously, though. they know how difficult it can be to have millions of eyes glued to you at all times. due to their awareness, nick suggested that you stayed off of their platforms to avoid any backlash that you're not ready for.

to be honest, at first you were a bit skeptical of his idea. i mean, you'd never had a ton of random people watching you like they always do. it seems easy enough, though. just make sure to keep your privacy hidden and don't do anything bad on camera. despite your questions, you agreed with nick's proposal. plus, the triplets are the experts here ; not you.

it's been three years since you guys came to this agreement. and it's been working out pretty well, frankly. nobody knows that you're friends with the triplets at all. nobody even has had the thought cross their mind. you're a random chick with a few hundred followers and they're famous youtubers with millions. no sane person would make that connection.

a year and a half ago, you and chris started dating. your relationship is the healthiest you've ever been in. he's caring, he listens when you talk, he hugs you a lot, he likes to compliment you, he buys 'just because' flowers.

you have had a past of toxic relationships. you told chris about them and he's been trying his hardest to heal the mental scars your exes have left behind. one of your past boyfriends was manipulative, another one was narcissistic, another was a proud cheater, and the last wasn't even present in your life.

"hey," you whisper into the darkness before you.

you're currently at the triplets' house, staying the night. nick texted you and asked if you wanted to have a sleepover — which you happily agreed to. you'd been watching a movie with nick in his room for the past hour or two, but he fell asleep a few minutes ago. you were on your way to sneak into chris's room when you heard someone rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

overtaken by curiosity, you tip-toed down the hall to see who it was. you poked your head around the corner to make sure it wasn't an intruder. your nerves instantly calmed down at the sight of your boyfriend, hungrily searching for a midnight snack.

"hey," he answers, turning around to face you as you stand in the doorway, "why are you still up? it's late."

"i could ask you the same thing." you tell him with a light chuckle shaking your chest. you then walk into the kitchen and over to where chris stands in front of the pantry. he smiles down at you, causing your stomach to twist. its pretty crazy to think that you still get butterflies from him. most people say that you won't feel giddy forever, but you seem to have proven that theory to be incorrect. it's been nearly two years and you still get flustered when he smiles at you.

you lift your hands into the air before dramatically flopping down onto his chest. your wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shirt. he smells like home, a comforting scent that always makes you relax as it meets your nostrils. chris grins down at you before wrapping his arms around your torso, holding you by the waist lovingly.

"i'm assuming nick fell asleep?" he asks you.

not in the mood to open your mouth, you simply nod in response. he feels your head shift against his chest and he accepts the answer. normally, he teases you for being lazy. but chris loves it when you're sleepy like this. he loves seeing you all delirious and disoriented. teasing you would be like taunting a lost puppy — it's not right. morally.

"he always falls asleep when you guys watch movies together." chris says as though you didn't know that. "didn't he promise to stay awake this time? i thought you guys were planning to pull and all-nighter."

"that didn't happen." you say. your voice comes out muffled from his shirt presses to your face. "he pinky promised to stay awake, but fell asleep thirty minutes into the film we were watching. i stayed up and finished it, though."

"you finished it before or after you came to find me?" chris asks with a laugh. you just roll your eyes as a smile grazes your lips. he can feel the way your mouth pulls upward against his skin. knowing that you're smiling and he can't see it kinda pisses him off. your smile is his favorite thing in the whole world and he's missing it? that's completely unacceptable.

you yawn, blinking a few times to keep yourself from succumbing to slumber. chris notices your fatigue and asks if you're ready for bed. "yes, please!" you respond eagerly, excited to lay down with him and go to sleep in his arms. chris laughs at your excitement, honestly finding it adorable that you're so impatient to sleep.

the two of you walk back to his room together and you grin at the sight of his bed. you rush ahead of him and flop down onto the mattress. your face is pointed up at the ceiling as chris plops down next to you, looking at the ceiling as well.

"is this your equivalent to star gazing?" he asks you, knowing how obsessed you are with the thought of looking at stars together. it's something you've always begged him to do with you. but chris has refused. not because he doesn't want to, but because he wants to do it right. you're looking forward to doing this so bad that he refuses to settle for anything less than the absolute best.

he thinks the stars aren't bright enough in the city. he wants to bring you out to a field and look at them. but you still complain about it constantly — unaware of his little plan.

"yeah," you say with a groan, "since my boyfriend won't look at stars with me, i have to look at your popcorn ceiling instead. my standards have been lowered for you by a lot, i hope you know!"

chris laughs, leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead. he stays hovering over you before he whispers "soon, baby." against your skin. the feeling of his lips grazing your head tickles, making you giggle a little. chris's grin widens at the sound. he sits up and watches your giggles fade away, enjoying the bliss of seeing you smile like this.

"what?" you ask with a laugh, noticing the way your boyfriend is staring at you shamelessly.

"nothing." he replies with a shrug. "you're just so beautiful, i can't help but stare."

you look at him with nothing but admiration behind your gaze. it's truly surreal how far you've come in such a little amount of time. just a few years ago, you were in a toxic relationship with a guy who cheated on you with a different girl each night. and whenever you would confront him about it, he would turn it into an argument — which he would win every time. but now? now you're with chris. who is the literal epitome of perfection. you genuinely want to spend the rest of your life with him. nothing else matters but you two.

you and chris end the night in each other's arms. he holds your body against his side, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

the both of you find yourselves falling into an easy, dreamless slumber. this is your favorite place in the world — his arms. no matter what's wrong in your life, the feeling of security always patches every issue. regardless of how messy.

after a few hours of bliss, you jump awake at the sound of chris's bedroom door slamming open. the back of the door hits his wall, the sound of impact waking up chris as well. you feel his shift next to you, his arms still wrapped around your waist. you groan, not wanting to open your eyes.

suddenly, you hear chris gasp. then he pulls the blanket over your face, holding you against his chest protectively. of course, your mind jumps to the worst conclusion — someone broke in and you're all gonna die! you find out that this wasn't this case, though, when you hear chris's voice begin to scold his brother.

"nicolas!" chris shouts. the anger in his voice tells you that this is serious and you should stay out of it. "what the actual fuck are you thinking!?"

"i didn't know you guys were cuddling!" nick tries to defend himself. "if i'd known, i wouldn't have come in! you know i respect your decision to keep y/n hidden! why the hell would i ever do this on purpose!?"

"well where else would she be sleeping if she wasn't with you!?" chris argues back.

slowly, you peak your head out from under the blanket before cautiously asking, "what happened?"

"nick thought it'd be clever to start a live stream at eleven in the fucking morning! then, he had the bright idea to come in here and surprise us!" chris explains, still very very pissed off. "and of course he didn't think to knock like a normal person. he instead took it upon himself to walk right on in and record us!"

"i thought it was just chris!" nick says, stuffing his phone in his pocket now that he's ended the live. "i don't even know if anyone saw her. maybe they missed it and we can just say that it was matt?"

"why the fuck would i be snuggling matt?"

you laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "chris, lets be real. you cuddle your brother more than your girlfriend."

"i love you," chris says softly, "but it's now is not the time for jokes. this could be a huge fucking problem."

"okay, i'm sorry." you're quick to apologize, stretching up to press a kiss to his cheek before gently whispering, "i love you too." against skin.

you notice nick slowly back out of chris's room, not wanting to be around if chris decides to get angry again. you glance up at your boyfriend only to see that he's already staring at nick's departing form. chris is obviously still angry, but he doesn't seem to care enough to argue with his brother again. so he lets nick leave without giving him a hard time.

once nick is completely out of the room, you hear chris sigh. like it's a pained, saddened sigh that makes you want to cry for him. you look up to meet his worried eyes already glancing down at you.

"hey," you whisper, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him better. "it'll be okay. we'll work it out like we always do." chris smiles at this before leaning down to press a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. you kiss him back before giggling and grimacing away from it. "i have horrid morning breath. let me brush my teeth before you kiss me."

you begin to move around toward the edge of the bed, aiming to leave and brush your teeth so you can start the day. before you can even make it to the side of the mattress, you feel chris's arms wrap around your torso and pull your body backward against his chest.

"i don't care about your breath," he tells you, "i just want you to stay with me a while longer. brush your teeth later."

you chuckle, "that's so nasty."

"pleeeease," he begs, tightening his grip around you, pulling your body firmly against his own. "stay with me, baby."

chris know how you feel about pet names. you hate them. they make you cringe. but when he whispers it against the back of your neck and you feel his breath against the hairs of your skin, you can't help the butterflies that swarm your stomach. you instantly give in and twist around to hug him.

"okay. i'll stay." you inform him, returning to the position you guys were in while sleeping. you shut your eyes before continuing. "but don't ever call me baby again."

"why not?" chris asks, clearly upset. "i could tell you liked it by the way you gave in so quickly. why can't i call you a nickname every once in a while. i think they're cute."

you groan, "i'm sleepy. let's talk about this later."

chris agrees and you both fall back asleep, enjoying the comfort of being in each other's arms. you know that no matter what happens with the media seeing your face, you'll always have chris by your side. nothing else is important as long as he is next to you.

the next time you wake up, it's bright outside.

you're no longer in chris's arms with him spooning you. you're now laying diagonally across the bed with your head in his lap as he scrolls through his phone. you blink a few times to let your eyes focus to the light of the room.

"mornin' baby." he says, quickly shutting off his phone and hiding it under his leg.

the action of him hiding his phone is enough to distract you from the use of the pet name. you raise a brow at his behavior, growing a bit concerned. you trust chris more than anything, but considering your history with cheaters, you can't help the annoyance that resides in your gut.

"what were you looking at, hm?" you ask him, trying not to be rude or anything. you want to stay calm with him because it's probably nothing.

"nothing, babe."

again, you ignore the nickname and focus on his suspicious demeanor. you thin your eyes at him, trying to read his body language. but it's difficult. he doesn't seem like he was texting some random chick, but why else would he hide his phone from you? you guys always share everything because he knows how you can get with this sort of thing.

curiosity overtaking your mind, you reach over and snatch his phone out from under his leg. chris opens his mouth to argue, but doesn't do anything to stop you from opening it and going to his recently opened app.

he was on tiktok, scrolling through the comments of some random fan page. you shoot chris a weird look before reading a few of them, your heart dropping to your ass from a mix of embarrassment and shame.

"did y'all see nick's live this morning?"

"who tf was that girl w chris? lmao she's not even pretty 💀"

"i found the chick's insta and she's apparently been in some rly shitty relationships. i mean lets be real. chris has never seriously dated anyone but this girl has been cheated on, manipulated, and abused? there's a clear denominator here. she's def done smth to cause that (for attention i'm guessing) "

"guys chris won't stay w her for long anyway after he finds out ab her ugly history!"

you read through the comments with an expression of pure disgust. how the fuck are these people going to sit here and talk bad about you when you've never even shown your face on the triplets channel? it's completely unfair.

you look at chris, but he's looking away. you wonder why he hasn't defended you on this. also, he was reading these people's opinions with a straight face. you begin to worry if he believes what they're saying. you glance back down at his screen, reading the third comment over and over.

there's a clear denominator here they had said. i mean, they're not necessarily wrong about that. you've been in bad relationships whereas chris has never dated anyone for a long period of time. in this light, of course you look like the bad guy. you can't technically blame their fans for judging you. you're easy to judge.

tears begin to prick your eye and you hand chris back his phone before wordlessly standing up from the bed and leaving his room. not once did he try to stop you or ask you to stay with him. you walk down the triplets' hallway and enter the bathroom, locking the door behind you and sitting down on the closed toilet seat.

you hold your face in your hands and try your hardest not to start crying over a bunch of teenagers talking shit on your name. but you can't help the intense weight on your chest and the lump in your throat.

to be honest, you don't give a shit about their insults. what you care about is the fact that they're right. you don't deserve someone like chris. he's so sweet and kind and understanding while you're irritable and skeptical of every little thing he does. you've done nothing to earn someone like him. maybe you have only ever been in toxic situations because that's what you deserve.

before you can stop them, tears begin to pour from your eyes. your cheeks become soaked with your pain. your entire body trembles as you sob into your hands, making it harder and harder to breathe correctly.

you love chris. you love him more than anything. you want to share the rest of your life with him. but you don't want to make him settle for less — the less in this case being your relationship. he deserves someone better. someone who won't snatch his phone from him when he's only trying to protect you from pain. someone who will let him call you pentanes because he loves them. someone who will be better. someone who's not you.

suddenly, you hear a knock at the door.

already knowing who it is, you tell chris to go away. your voice comes out shaky and hoarse, making it incredibly easy to know you'd been crying. the tone practically screams at him, saying that you're upset over something he tried to save you from in the first place.

"will you please let me in, baby?" chris asks. his voice is soft and gentle. you're suddenly craving the feeling of being in his arms. the feeling of being loved. the feeling of having him comfort you.

the greedy emotions you feel paired with the nickname makes it impossible to not open the door for him. you shuffle over to the door and let him in. you sit back down on the toilet seat, keeping your head downcast the whole time as to not see his face or show your tears.

you stare at the floor, watching his feet pad across the tiled floor before he stops in front of you. he drops to his knees so his face is in line with yours. you quickly turn away and stare at the shower curtain, letting your hair to cover your puffy eyes.

chris sighs before grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. he lifts his other hand to your hair, tucking it behind your ears so he can admire every inch of your beauty with no veil to cover the rawness of it. he lets out a shaky exhale, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. all the while, you keep your eyes pinned to his face. you watch every single movement he makes, knowing that you don't deserve any of the kindness he's offering you.

knowing that this relationship will not last forever, you begin to cry again. you lean forward and rest your forehead against chris's shoulder, allowing tears to pool from your eyes as he rubs a hand up and down your back.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he asks with his voice in a whisper. "i wanna know what you're thinking so i can tell you how irrational it is."

you laugh at him, but it just causes you to let out a choked sob. his humor is your favorite part about him. the fact that chris can make you laugh in any given situation is what you adore most. hearing him do it while you're thinking of how to break the news that you're leaving him so he can find someone better? this is gut wrenching.

"i love you." you tell him. "so, so fucking much."

"i love you too." he replies easily, not thinking anything of the fact that you're telling him this right now. but when you continue, chris begins to put the pieces together and he starts vigorously shaking his head in refusal.

"these past two years have been the best of my whole life," you tell him with a wavering voice. "but you deserve better. you deserve the world. and i can't offer that to you, chris."

"i don't want the fucking world." he says, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you to be in front of him to look you in the eyes. "i want you and only you."

"but-"

"no." he interrupts. "i don't give a single fuck what anyone else thinks. and i'm sorry, but i don't even really care what you think right now. because you're all wrong. i belong with you and i don't want anyone else even if i was paid a million dollars."

you stare at him with wide eyes, your dried tears still adorning your skin. the would could be ending outside, and you would stay in this bathroom and continue to stare at chris. his eyes are so gorgeously blue that you find yourself getting lost in them.

if you guys get married and live the rest of your lives together, your bodies will change. your skin will wrinkle. your hair will grey. your lips will thin. your hands will shake. your back will hunch. nothing about your appearance is permanent. nothing except the eyes. the shade, the hue, and the iris will all stay the same until they close for the last time. and you can't wait to look into chris's eyes for the rest of your life.

"i think you would be crazy to reject a million dollars for me." you tell him with a little giggle, wiping at your cheeks to rid them of the leftover tears.

chris's heart flutters at the sight of your smile, "there she is."

tags : @kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq

[hobiebrownismygod]

Hobie Brown angst blurb cuz I love angst :)

I'm sorry

TW: reader death, last kiss

Hobie Brown x Fem!reader - losing you

@daydreaming-en-pointe helped me develop the idea!!

When Hobie was around 14 or 15, way before joining the spider society and right after being bitten by his spider, he had a best friend (you)

you knew his secret identity and you were one of the first people he'd told about the spider bite also you were kind the Ganke to his miles, basically his "man in the chair"

one night, on your 15th birthday, he sneaks into your room to wake you up and take you to a place he picked out, just for fun

you were against it at first cuz it was nearly midnight and you didn't want to get in trouble but of course he convinced you to come with

he takes you and swings the two of you up onto this really tall building where you could see the entirety of the city really well and you loved it cuz it was really beautiful

it was cold up there so the two of you were like huddled together for warmth and he gave you his jacket and you were having a sweet little conversation

you see, it turns out he had a little crush on you, that you obviously had no idea about, and he was way too nervous to tell you about it

cuz hobie may be cool but everyone's all shaky and soft with their first love right?

anyways after a little while, some villain (maybe green goblin) attacks the city and he has to go stop them

he tells you to stay there to stay safe and that he'll come back for you when he's done

boom turns out it was a ruse and the goblin/other villain was just trying to get some sort of victim to use against him

villain takes you and hobie realizes a little too late and now its a face off between him and the villain

but lets turn it into a canon event and you're dangling off the edge of the rooftop, the villain holding onto you by your throat while hobies just begging for him to let you go and that he'll do anything

so guess what

villain does let you go

you're thrown off the edge of the building and hobie tries to grab you but he's pushed out of the way and you fall, and end up getting covered in rubble

epic fight ensues and hobie ends up killing the villain out of anger and hysteria

he's now rummaging through the rubble searching for you, hoping that you're somehow still alive

and he finds your dead body, underneath debris that he cleared

and now he's crying while holding your body in his arms, slowly feeling the warmth disappear from your skin

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" he whispers, cupping your face with his hand, tears streaming down his face and wetting yours, making it seem as if you were crying too

and then in a moment of total vulnerability, of total misery and sorrow, he leans in and presses his first and only kiss to your cold, dead lips

knowing that he'll never get the chance again

and regretting that he'd never taken the chance to tell you before

:(

I suffered writing this so you all get to suffer too

Taglist:

: @therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @s6onder @@d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558

[peachdues]

The Bitter & the Sweet — a steamy snippet

Rengoku x F!Ice Pillar — Secret Pregnancy AU

A/N: I’m ovulating so here y’all go.

A snippet of the✨first time✨ between Rengoku and the Ice Pillar in The Bitter & the Sweet. It takes place after their surprise first kiss (which I won’t spoil here — at least, not yet)

CW: suggestive/steamy, but I’m not giving y’all the NSFW stuff yet.

Y/L/N, it seemed, had either made good on her threat to roast her crow, or she’d temporarily fired the bird.

The one which now circled above Kyojuro’s head appeared to await his acknowledgement, but as he began walking, the crow began to fly ahead, beseeching him to follow. His curiosity got the better of him, as did his desire to see the Ice Hashira once more, and so, he obliged and followed the sleek bird.

Kyojuro was led up a small, winding path past the Ice Pillar’s estate. Though it was nearly midnight, the path, laid with smooth white stones, was gently lit by a line of flickering torches that he could see tapered off before the path emptied into some kind of clearing. As he drew closer to the path’s end, Kyojuro could smell the faintest traces of the floral notes he only ever associated with the beautiful Ice Hashira.

The end of the path opened to reveal an intricate spring of interconnected pools, connected with rocky formations that appeared to be hewn from moonstone. The spring enjoyed a fair degree of privacy thanks to the thick grove of red cedar trees which encircled it, with the clearing in which Kyojuro now stood being the only entry to and from the heated spring.

The pools themselves looked like something out of a dream. Thick tendrils of steam rolled of the shimmering, sea-green water, and Kyojuro found himself longing to feel the hot water soak into his muscles.

A cursory glance over the spring had Kyojuro’s heart leaping to his throat; for there, standing in the middle of the luminescent turquoise water, was the Ice Pillar herself.

Her back was turned to him, but it was clear as day that the crow had led him right to her while she was in the middle of bathing.

Kyojuro felt a heat rise in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the steamy waters, as his eyes roamed the exposed skin of her shoulders, the water concealing the rest of her beneath its shimmering depths.

Mouth dry, the Flame Pillar made to move away, to get as far from the Ice Hashira’s private bathing spring as he could before she became aware of his presence, but her lilting voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I thought that might be you.”

Kyojuro’s traitorous feet would not move from his spot as Y/L/N rose from the water. Though his eyes immediately fixed themselves on anything but the nude woman — goddess — standing in the middle of the pool, Y/L/N made no effort to cover herself.

“Please, forgive me, Y/L/N, I had no idea-“

“Kyojuro,” she interrupted, her voice soft but sultry. “Please. Join me.”

Kyojuro wondered if it were possible for his heart to have lodged in his throat. He tried, so very hard, to keep his eyes focused on Y/L/N’s face, but his treacherous gaze dropped to what the water had been concealing from him.

At the first sight of the generous swells of her breasts, and the sensual dip of her waist, her skin glistening from the water, Kyojuro was a goner.

Wordlessly, his hands removed his haori and began fumbling with the buttons of his uniform. Though Kyojuro would consider himself fluid and graceful in battle, he found that here, under the heady stare of the Ice Pillar, his movements had become jerky and impatient.

He tried not to let the flush on his face show as Y/N’s stare lowered as Kyojuro shucked his pants down his legs, exposing his hardening member to the warm spring air, but the answering blush that spread across her cheeks as her eyes traced his length had him nearly trembling with desire. Finally freed of the constraints of his uniform, the Flame Pillar stepped from the smooth stones that formed steps down into the hot spring pool.

Kyojuro nearly groaned at the way the steaming water soaked into his aching muscles, the healing properties of the spring working quickly to ease the tension he’d not realized he’d been carrying. The relaxing heat of the spring, however, did little to ease the growing hardness below his navel, and the Flame Pillar found himself grateful for depth of the water.

Slowly, and somewhat shyly, he made his way towards the waiting Ice Pillar. Every step closer to her allowed the details of her exposed body come into focus, setting Kyojuro’s skin on fire.

When he was within an arm’s length of her, he stopped, his eyes fixed on hers.

“You kissed me,” she said simply, her head tilting as she considered him.

Kyojuro tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, but found it impossible given how dry his mouth had become. “Yes, I did, and I apologize, Y/L/N. I was just so relieved -“

“Would you like to kiss me again?” Y/N’s question made his nervous ramblings evaporate from his tongue.

It took him a moment to gather himself enough to respond. “Yes,” he breathed, and Y/L/N took a step towards him, a small smile spreading across her beautiful mouth. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

Kyojuro could not suppress the shiver that coursed through him as he felt Y/L/N’s skin brush against his upper abdomen as she pressed her lithe, heavenly body against him, her eyes dropping to his lips.

“Then you may,” she whispered, tilting her face for him as she waited.

His hands rose hesitantly to rest against her waist, and Kyojuro shuddered at the smooth warmth of her skin beneath his palms.

His dreams had mostly revolved around what it would be likely to simply hold the Ice Pillar in his arms — to press her against his chest as her arms wrapped around his middle, and to be able to brush his lips against hers, softly — teasingly.

But there had been a handful of dreams in which Kyojuro had done far more with the vexatious, beautiful woman, dreams that had reduced him to a sweating mess in his futon, left his heart pounding as his eyes flew open the moment his dream-self would sink into her molten heat. Those dreams had always unsettled him, not merely because he woke up embarrassed for having thought of his comrade in such a lascivious manner; but also because of the gnawing pit of frustrated want those dreams left him with once he awoke.

Besides, Y/L/N had long since been elevated in his mind from that of a mere ‘comrade.’ She had become something far more precious to him.

Kyojuro mused that not even his wildest fantasies about the Ice Pillar could have prepared him for the real thing: for the woman, peering up at him through long, thick eyelashes as she leaned to press her bare torso against his, the water parting around them as as they came together, a matching blush spreading across both of their faces. His dreams had not done her justice, not in the slightest; they had failed to capture the exquisite plushness of her breasts as they pressed against his upper abdomen, or the way her soft floral scent combined with the thick tendrils of steam rising from the water’s surface until his head had been utterly fogged by her.

As he began to close the distance between their lips, Kyojuro was reminded that his reality was far superior to his reveries.

don’t worry, i’ll give y’all plenty of smut before I rip your hearts out

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Reader is went out to a party and dressed as a nurse for Halloween but, g!p Mina stayed home so to make it up to her “patient” she gave her a bj to feel better

im sorry it took me so long to finish (just like Mina-- I mean what?) but please enjoy!!!

1.6k words 

[GP!Mina x Reader]

CW: GP, light praise kink, this isn’t m*d*c*l play bc i don’t do that but R is wearing a nurse costume

Mina let out a low breath and closed her eyes as she gripped her length in her left hand. 

Unfortunately, the wrist she’d broken earlier was her dominant wrist, and now she was both frustrated and turned on, trying to adapt to getting herself off with only her other hand. Sure, she’d used her other hand before, but not nearly as frequently. And knowing she was completely unable to rely on any help from her right hand made her let out a little whine. 

Breaking her wrist was the fault of her own bad luck, but it was your fault she was so wound up now, eyebrows furrowed from her effort. Your Halloween costume, a handmade, near perfect replica of the uniform Nurse Dolly wore on Ratched, looked entirely too good on you. And now, instead of being able to enjoy seeing you in said costume at Jeongyeon’s Halloween party, she was alone, thinking about how she wanted nothing more than to greedily pull up your skirt and run her hands over your ass and thighs before–  

Mina sighed, cursing her useless injured wrist and unrelenting erection. She laid back a bit farther on the dark gray sectional, letting her bad wrist rest on the arm of the sofa. She had meant to go to bed earlier, wanting to cum just once to relieve some of her pent up frustration, but she couldn’t get herself over the edge and hadn’t realized how much time had passed. 

Still too aroused and lost in her lust-driven thoughts, Mina didn’t even register that the front door of the apartment opened and closed: you were back from the party. Mina had really wanted to go with you, but the idea of anyone bumping into her very broken wrist in its fresh cast made her wince. 

“Mina?” you called softly as you came in, but she didn’t reply. You checked your phone– it was after midnight. Maybe she had fallen asleep while trying to wait for you to get back. But then you walked in further, down the hall, through the kitchen, out into the living room and saw why she hadn’t answered you. 

You watched for a moment, almost tempted to let her carry on. But then you noticed the light sheen of sweat on her brow and wondered how long she’d been struggling to cum. Now you couldn’t resist her. And it was Halloween after all; maybe you could give her a compensatory treat.

“Why is my patient out of bed?” you asked, tilting your head with feign curiosity. Mina’s eyes snapped open and she looked up at you from the couch. Her gaze, you realized instantly, was both hungry and desperate. You had been debating teasing her, but as soon as you saw the ravenous look in her eye you knew it wasn’t the time. Your eyes locked onto her hard shaft and you licked your lips. “Can I help you with that?” 

Mina nodded, looking you up and down slowly. She’d seen your nurse’s costume come to life over the last few weeks and seeing it now thrilled her just the same. “Please,” she breathed. 

Quickly, you made your way over to the couch beside her. You wrapped your hand around the base of her cock and leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were magnetic against yours, unwilling to part from any source of pleasure. You broke away from her though, making her squirm with need. You watched her reaction as you moved your hand slowly and started to jerk her off, lightly teasing her cockhead by running your thumb over her pink, leaking tip. 

She must have been trying for ages, because you’d barely touched her but already the poor girl looked as if she could cum. But that wouldn’t do for you unless she came somewhere more satisfying than all over her shirt and abs. 

“Poor thing,” you cooed. “Would it feel better if I used my mouth?” 

Mina bit back a groan at your question, nodding furiously. You went to reach for the hair tie on her wrist, but Mina read your mind. Her hand wove through your hair until she had as much as she could collect in her fingers, careful not to ruin your teal-colored nurse cap. She pulled back firmly, not only keeping your hair out of your face, but letting you know she was going to be setting the pace from here on out. 

You caught her eye briefly, thinking that your eyes must be as blown out with lust as hers were. You knew Mina really wanted to cum if she was willing to take the lead and as much as you loved telling her what to do, you loved seeing this more commanding side of her. You leaned in a little for her and she responded by gently pushing your head down. The moment her tip entered your mouth, you knew you were going to give in to anything she wanted. You kissed and licked around her tip, letting out an involuntary moan before opening your mouth wider to let more of her in. 

Mina grunted lightly at the sensation, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. She loved the way your mouth felt around her, and now she needed you, to claim you, to coat your mouth and throat with her seed. 

“Can I…?” she asked breathlessly, and you knew immediately what she was asking. She’d been training you over the last few months, stretching your throat, jaw, and retraining your breathing so she could fuck into your mouth endlessly without you needing to come off of her cock for a break or air. You were well on your way to becoming her perfect little toy. 

You nodded wordlessly, and Mina let out a heavy breath. Her grip on you tightened and she pushed you down further until your nose was up against the base of her cock. Your eyes watered a little but you invited her in, letting her fill and stretch you just the way she’d trained you. 

“Good girl,” she praised softly, using her other hand to touch your cheek reassuringly. She let up a bit and you proceeded to let her control your every move as she forced you to bob up and down slowly on her length. Sinking into a service-oriented headspace, it wasn’t long before you were drooling. The added wetness made it easier for you to glide up and down on her cock and filled the air with wet, lewd sounds while you continued to give her head. 

And Mina absolutely loved it. She loved the way you were so obedient for her, so willing to let her have her way with you. She loved how wet and puffy your lips became and the tears that threatened to spill from how hard you tried for her. 

“That’s it, just like that,” she said, watching her cock disappear into your mouth again and again. She continued to test your limits, pulling you back down to the base of her cock again before allowing you to come back up for a moment. Your warm, wet mouth felt incredible, but now Mina needed a little more. 

The next time you bobbed down on her length, she held your head in place. “Stay so nice and still for me, baby,” she breathed as her hips started to thrust slowly. 

You let out a muffled moan in response. This was your favorite part because you knew it meant two things: you had done well in working her up, and that Mina couldn’t hold back anymore. Her hips found a steady rhythm as she fucked up into your mouth desperately, her moans and pants becoming heavier. 

Her thrusts became gradually faster. Even though your jaw was starting to ache, you were at least at less risk of choking on her cock now because the more desperate Mina became, the sloppier she got. The couple inches that weren’t being shoved repeatedly into your mouth were in your hand now while you worked to jerk her off.

“Fuck,” Mina grunted. “Feels so good, just need to use you a little more...”

Her grip on the sides of your head tightened again and you really couldn’t move as Mina picked up the pace again. She was nearly incoherent now, murmuring half-completed praises to you as she tipped her head back. Her breath hitched and then hitched again as your mouth worked her closer and closer to the edge. 

Her praises trailed off altogether shortly after; the only thing you could make out was “fuck, yes, fuck,” and then she gasped. You took your hand away quickly and Mina pushed you down to her base as she came, thrusting violently up into your mouth. 

Your whimper was muffled and you swallowed what you could hastily. When she finally released her hold on you, everything you couldn’t swallow coated her cock while you bobbed shallowly on her length. 

You took your time cleaning her up, licking your way up her shaft and over her tip until she couldn’t stand it anymore and had to pull you up and away. She kissed you hungrily, unafraid to taste herself on your lips and tongue. Eventually she broke away from your lips, leaving appreciative, wet kisses down your chin and neck. 

“All better?” you asked, settling in to rest against her. Mina nodded, letting out a satisfied hum. “Much,” she said. She paused for a moment, then chuckled and touched the fabric of your costume lightly. “I'm lucky to have such an attentive nurse for the next six to eight weeks while I heal.”

[cookiebelle]

Me Fui de Vacaciones • Damian Priest x AFAB reader

Warnings • 2nd person pov (no use of y/n), reader is Afab but I did my best to be as inclusive and nondescript as possible

Smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected PIV sex, oral (m receiving), names (Gatita, baby, you get it), some extremely light kink (spanking, biting, choking, hair pulling), lil bit of Sir kink, size kink sort of, exactly two uses of the word “whore”, porn with an unnecessary amount of plot, tropes galore, idiots to lovers requires its own warning, bad Spanish translations probably.

Word Count • 6.2k words, I have no reasonable explanation for this.

A/N • This should go without saying, but I’m gonna say it anyway. This is a wrestling fic, featuring wrestlers. While wrestlers are indeed real people with real lives, they are also playing characters. The people mentioned in this fic are their characters, and in no way am I depicting the individuals who portray them.

Burning logs crackled. One. Two. Three beers became five. Your feet dug into soft, cool sand as you and your closest friends talked around a fire.

It was the beginning of a well deserved mini-vacation, and the five of you weren’t intending to waste a moment of it. So when you all arrived at the little beach cottage you had rented, even at nearly midnight, you were hell bent on getting the most of your time off. So the fire was built, drinks were passed around, and laughter carried across the beach.

Most people called your friends “The Judgment Day”. You just called them family, though. You had met Damian first, in 2020, the near end of his NXT career marking your beginning. He quickly became your mentor as you navigated the tribulations of what it meant to work for the company, a true friend among those who looked at you only as competition. Later, he introduced you to Rhea. Then the faction formed, and Finn joined the circle, then Dom. Your call up to the main roster occurred shortly after, during the draft. The celebration that ensued when you learned you would be working with the rest of the crew was legendary. These, truly, were your people.

And then there you were, a year later, feet in the sand. You played a light tune on your guitar as though it were the backing score to Bálor’s story, leaving the group captivated. Well, everyone but you. You were looking up at the stars, taking it all in, wondering how you could possibly be so lucky. You decided not to tempt fate by asking the universe that very question, but it seemed fate had its own ideas for this week.

“You good?”

Rhea’s voice pulled you from your daydream and all at once, everyone was looking at you. You realized, in your deep state of thought, your random plucking at the guitar had faded to nothing.

“So good…” you grinned, slurring slightly, at which the group chuckled and carried on with their conversations. Crisis averted. At least you thought. Damian’s gaze lingered on you when you looked back down at the frets of your guitar, but you didn’t seem to notice.

It was a drunken stumble back to the house, sometime around 3AM, everyone finally exhausted enough to end the day and refresh themselves for the next. Except you. As they all said their goodnights and retired to their respective rooms, you found yourself on the couch, unable to sleep and watching reruns of the same sitcoms you had seen a hundred times.

—————

“Hey… Hey you…”

You felt something… poking you?

“Hellooooo…”

You gasped and sat up, eyes wildly searching the room until you found Rhea standing above you. It was light outside, light enough that golden rays peeked through the curtains and illuminated her face. You glanced at the clock. 7am. Hadn’t you guys just gone to bed?

“We’re going to the gym. You coming?”

“I thought we were on vacation,” You groaned and laid back down, covering your face with a throw pillow as you realized how sore your back was. Why the hell did you sleep on the couch all night?

“Suit yourself. We’ll back in a couple hours.”

You rolled over, scrunched up but content as the footsteps left the house, got in the car, and drove away. Slowly, you dozed back off into that euphoric state of half sleep.

“Hey…”

Oh fuck. Damian. Your heart picked up and suddenly you were awake once more. You thought you had heard all of them leave, and yet…

“Hey, you awake?”

You remained rigidly still save for your breathing, even as you heard him approach. For whatever reason, pretending to still be asleep was your first and only instinct. It did you little good, however.

In one sudden motion, as if you weighed nothing at all, you were scooped up into his arms. Still, you pretended to sleep. Despite your heart racing. Despite how badly you wanted to lean into the safety and warmth of his chest. Despite the fire that sparked in your core every time you got close to him.

Yeah, you were down bad. The moment he got in the ring to spar with you that first time, you were a goner, and it only got worse as years went on. You had spent holidays together, traveled to countless cities and countries, bared your soul to him over late night gin and cigarettes. You saw him for what he was. When others saw a monster of a man, a Broken Angel as he was once called, you saw someone sensitive, fierce, and loyal. Even the flaws drew you closer, but you could focus on those another time.

You kept the feelings under the hat as best you could. The only time you let it slip was to Rhea, early on in your friendship, your eyes lingering too long on Damian as he walked away from the two of you. She promised to take the secret to her grave. That didn’t stop her from teasing you in private, though, or from dropping the subtlest of hints when you were all together. Hints Damian never seemed to get, or maybe he did. Who really knows?

Back in the present, he was carrying you… somewhere, that much you could glean with your eyes closed. And then you were placed somewhere soft. Already warm and slept in, like the comfiest hug. Wait… was this his bed? You breathed deeply and realized it was, regrettably, recognizing the scent of his hair left behind on the pillow.

He covered you with a blanket, pushing away some hair that had fallen in your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture from someone like him, especially for “just a friend”, but that was something you had gotten used to. It was one of the many facets of who he was, showing his love with touch. He was always there for you with a hug when you needed it, or a rub to your shoulders after a good match, and he seemed to mess with your hair a lot, too. You thought nothing of it. That was just.. him.

You decided, as his hand drew away from your face, that now was as good a time as any to begin to stir. You slowly blinked your eyes open and looked up as he was still standing beside you, just turning to leave.

“Mmmm hello…” you mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up… you just looked uncomfortable and I was getting up anyway so I figured…” He seemed almost nervous, immediately pulling his hands away from you.

“No, it’s fine,” you cut him off, stretching for the first time in what felt like days, “thank you..”

“Okay, well.. you sleep. I’m gonna make breakfast..” he turned back to leave and you quickly grabbed onto his hand, tugging it backward.

“Too early for breakfast. It’s your bed. Come lay down…” your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard every word.

It wasn’t as though you two hadn’t shared plenty of beds. Traveling on tour was like that. With Dom and Rhea paired off, and Finn preferring to be alone, you two often ended up in a room together, and thanks to Damian’s stature that meant sharing a single king bed. Of course, you didn’t mind. Not even as you laid awake all those nights, trying to quell that burning need you couldn’t seem to shake when you were so close yet so far from him. You wondered how he could sleep, how he couldn’t feel your nervous energy from across the bed. Maybe he could, and just paid it no mind.

This time was different, though. Charged. Like the energy you felt shooting through the fingertips that touched him was somehow a mutual exchange. Like if you pulled your hand from his right now, you would see the electricity connecting them. You couldn’t explain how or why, all you could do was tug on his hand as he tried to decline your invitation.

“There’s no way you’re not tired, come on…”

And, after a moment of your insistence, he reluctantly obliged.

There was a dip in the bed, and you hummed happily as a strong arm wrapped around you, hugging you close for a moment as he got situated. You rolled onto your side, facing away from him so you could hide your secret little smile. Strong arms wrapped around you again, to your surprise, and you shifted until you both were comfortable laying there in each other’s space.

You two always ended up like this, once you finally found yourself able to sleep. You would wake curled up against his massive frame, him holding you in a manner that could only be described as possessive. It was almost as though he was protecting you in your slumber; From what, you weren’t sure. Bad dreams? Aliens? You always played it off as though you two just enjoyed the closeness, drawn to each other in the unconscious. You’d vehemently defend to Rhea that it was strictly platonic. The butterflies in your throat disagreed.

It felt like every single cell in your body was vibrating. You thought there was no way that you could sleep, and yet you felt your eyelids droop as his warmth spread around you. Once again, you dozed, your body weightless despite being hyper aware of the fact that you were pressed up against him. His shallow, sleepy breaths puffed across the top of your head, but you would later learn he was also not sleeping.

No, he was in the same predicament as you. Pretending to sleep while his mind raced and the smell of your hair drew him further into this downward spiral. It was all innocent thoughts at first. Friendly. Looking forward to spending time with you and the others over the next few days. Then he opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of your peaceful, sleeping face and a switch flipped. Suddenly he was consumed by the thought of waking you up and taking you then and there, finally giving into the urge he felt every time he got close to you. Every time he watched you wrestle. Every time you smiled at him from across a room, or fell asleep on him during long flights, or gave his butt a pat as he walked out from Gorilla to the ramp. He valued your friendship more than that urge, though, and it’s stopped him every time he’s nearly gone through with indulging it.

Lost in your thoughts, you only barely registered the fact that he had scooted a little bit closer to you than before, hips flush with the curve of your ass. Something else pressed against you, something somewhat firm and insistent. You blushed, trying to muffle the faintest gasp at the realization of exactly what it was. He had to be sleeping… right? Would he do this if he wasn’t?

You didn’t know what to do, frozen still by the options before you. You could ignore it, pretend to keep sleeping and act as though nothing was happening. That was the safest option. You two could proceed as usual, protecting your friendship for the long run while you pined for him still. Or… you could give in and acknowledge it, say fuck it to all of the doubt and uncertainty.

Fuck it.

You moved to back yourself up further against him, making sure to slowly grind your hips and drag your ass against the clothed protrusion. You heard a low, barely audible noise from him, spurring you on as you arched your back slightly and once again pressed your ass into him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing…” he whispered under his breath, not wanting to wake you if this was all just some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on him. His hand went from holding you across your waist to slowly tracing a line down your side, stopping at your hip and squeezing gently. You hummed again, softly, leaning into his touch.

It burned where his fingertips made contact with your skin, feeling that same electric energy as before, stealing the breath from your lungs. It was now or never, you decided, no going back from here. A calculated risk, but you were always so bad at math. Slowly, you reached back, grabbing hold of his hip and using the new leverage to really grind against him. You heard a low rumbling, like thunder in his chest, fingers digging into your hip.

“Don’t tease me…” another barely audible growl of a whisper. You chuckled softly, putting on an air of confidence in spite of your hammering heart, moving just enough in his hold to turn your head and look innocently at him. God, he loved that look. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking you over with a glint in his eye you’d never seen before, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Who’s teasing?” You offered a smile over your shoulder.

“I mean it…” he brought you closer to him, his lips finding your bare shoulder. He placed a kiss on it, then bit down softly, eliciting the tiniest gasp from you. Another kiss, another bite, another low, sleepy whine from you as your hips begged for more friction. His hand on your hip pulled you back as he rocked slowly into you. God, why did he have to make this so good? It was bad enough that you were past some kind of point of no return, but every press of his hips to your behind only made it worse, forcing tiny moans out of you. Officially helpless to the way your body was reacting to his touch, you didn’t bother resisting it any longer. Your hand on his hip reached between the two of you, teasing along the waistband of his boxers before reaching in. Your hand slid tentatively down his pelvis, running over smooth, hot skin before finally wrapping around what you were looking for.

It was damn near as intimidating as he was. Long and thick and heavy, twitching slightly in your grasp as he grew harder. You couldn’t help but utter a quiet “Fuck”. His chest rumbled as you stroked him a few times, and you couldn’t help but groan with him, the slick heat of your core only growing more overwhelming with each glide of your palm. You felt lips on your neck now, doing the same as before. A kiss, a bite, then another soothing kiss as you mewled at the sensation, your walls clenching around nothing, absolutely begging for him. You’d be lucky if you made it out of this without him marking you, but would that really be lucky? You kept on with soft, slow strokes, breathless as he continued to focus on your neck.

“Are you sure we should do this…” he breathed in your ear, your movements slowing as you processed his question. He was giving you one last out, it seemed. One last opportunity to say “you’re right, let’s stop”, though you both knew you had already gone too far to come back from this. But, with no hesitation, you nodded.

It all happened so fast after that. In half a second you were flat on your back, eyes wide as you tried to choke out something clever or witty to say, completely failing. He wasn’t touching you yet, but nonetheless you were pinned, his massive frame caging yours entirely. Your eyes cut down to discover he’d slid his boxers off, hard cock hanging between his legs. Fuck, it looked even better than it felt. Your gaze wandered back up to his confident smirk. He knew what he was working with, clearly. Smug bastard.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice…” you couldn’t help but laugh, doing everything you could to look normal, ignoring the steady beating in your ears.

“Just couldn’t help but notice you admiring something…” he chuckled, then leaned back down to kiss your neck, and suddenly your mind was mush again except for him.

You were ripped from your thoughts as you found your top being pulled off and your breasts exposed, his mouth immediately attaching to one. He was all teeth and tongue, frantic and desperate, years of tension finally breaking the dam and rushing through his veins. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, writhing and gasping as he played you so expertly, somehow finding every little sensitive spot and knowing exactly how to wring the most pathetic little sounds from your throat. Had your nipples always been this sensitive? You couldn’t remember. In fact, this all felt so new, like it was your first time all over again. His intense focus turned up to you as he switched to your other breast, the eye contact enough to ruin you both. You broke it, certain you would come in an instant if you held his dark eyes any longer.

Damian let go of your nipple with a tug of his teeth, leaning up to finally kiss your lips, both hands holding your face. White heat burst behind your eyes as his tongue immediately assumed dominance over yours. You wrapped your arms around broad shoulders, moaning shamelessly into his mouth as tongues danced and one of his hands moved to firmly hold your jaw. He only broke the kiss to speak, lips just centimeters from yours.

“Pretty little thing… me estás matando…”

Your loss for words left you grinning stupidly in response. You, killing him? While you’ve lost all sense of chill, not even bothering to pretend to be casual about this? He kissed the smile off your face, biting and tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away, leaving your lips to chase his as you whined with need. It was strange, the fact that you needed him. You’d had plenty of partners, plenty of good sex. Sure, you wanted them, but this felt like you’d surely die if you didn’t feel him inside you soon. Like your body would simply vaporize without his touch. Maybe this was how it was going to be from now on, feeling like something was distinctly missing when he wasn’t touching you.

Your flimsy cotton shorts were the next to go, his lips finding every inch of exposed skin down your abdomen and claiming it as his own. Eager hands glided down his shoulders and back, taking in the way each muscle flexed as he moved along your body.

His energy was impossible to place, manic but calm. He knew exactly what he was doing, but still moved with an urgency as if the two of you would be caught any moment. Which… was partially true. In a moment of clarity, the rest of the crew came to mind and your heart picked up at the realization that they would be back soon, and this would be over. Or worse.. they could find you two, passionately entangled. What would they say? What would HE say? You feared he would deny it, too ashamed to admit he felt anything for you, even just lust.

Your thoughts continued to race, eyes closing as you panicked. You tried to be discreet about it, but if anyone knew your cues, it was Damian. He moved back up to you, a strong yet delicate hand wrapping around your throat as he kissed you. Well, that was one way to knock out the intrusive thoughts.

“Look at me,” he squeezed ever so slightly as your eyes focused, his tone stern yet soft, “whatever you’re thinking about. Doesn’t matter right now. Tell me what does.” Another squeeze.

“You.”

“And what else…”

“… me?”

“Good girl.”

Another kiss, another squeeze, and he was gone. Back to leaving bite marks down your body. He came down to your panties and let out a silent, somewhat shaky breath. Finally. Finally he had you right where he always wanted you. It was almost overwhelming, but he didn’t let onto that. His fingers gently traced over black cotton, finding a damp spot along the seam of your cunt.

“Oh gatita,” he kept focus along that spot, shooting sparks through your entire body with how inexplicably sensitive you were, “is this all for me?”

All you could do was whimper in response, letting your head fall back to the pillow as your hips chased his fingers, begging for more. He granted you that extra friction, mouth falling open as he watched you shamelessly grind against his hand.

And then he pulled away, leaving you whining from the loss. In a blink, your panties were tossed to the floor and finally the two of you could take in the sight of one another. It took all of the self control he had not to split you open on his cock right there, but he resisted, instead kneeling between your open legs.

You looked up at him, breathing out a barely audible “please”. You nearly took him out right there, his composure faltering as he fully looked you over.

“Perfect,” he exhaled, readjusting his position and giving his straining cock a few lazy strokes, making sure you were watching. Oh, you were watching, nearly drooling at the sight.

His hand found your pussy again, gently swirling a thumb around your clit, eyes locked with yours and hand still slowly working his cock. He wanted to see every reaction, every little microexpression, he wanted it all. He had waited this long for you, years of picturing you in this exact moment. He wanted to savor everything.

You moaned through your bitten lip as he teased, not daring to look away from him. He had you captive, it seemed, frozen in place and begging for anything he could give you. Which is why you whined so pathetically when he pulled his hand away, once again.

He sucked your essence from his thumb, savoring your sweetness. You hummed at the sight, closing your eyes, only to feel his grip on your jaw a moment later to tilt your head up toward him.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice deeper, more serious. You didn’t dare disobey him, looking up like a deer in headlights. Something about that voice… you couldn’t quite place it. He growled lowly, bringing his hand back down to your cunt. He collected some of your juices on his finger, running it up and down your slick folds before slowly, agonizingly sliding it inside.

He still gripped your chin, daring you to look away as you whimpered at the sudden fullness. You had always admired his hands, giant and strong and rough, yet gentle. You’d wondered how they would feel in this exact scenario, often finding your mind wandering as your own smaller hand worked to your release in the late nights. It was beyond what you had imagined, so much more. His finger found a slow, steady pace, filling you perfectly and yet not enough all at once. You moved your hips with his rhythm, mouth slack in euphoria, eyes still trained to his.

“So fucking good for me, look how well you’re taking it,” he praised, letting go of your jaw to let you look down at where his finger was disappearing into your tight hole. Then, as you watched, he added another finger, wrenching a moan straight from your chest as your head fell back once more. Now the pace picked up, the thrusts of his hand stronger, more precise as he curled his fingers to find that sensitive little spot. You gasped and panted pathetically as he played you so expertly, looking back down at his hand only to fall back onto the pillow, overwhelmed by the sight.

It’s unfair, how he seemed to know you without knowing you. Without much effort at all from him, you found yourself closing in on climax, your panting gradually becoming uninhibited moans of “Please. Please. Please.”

“Please what, gatita?” He cooed, slowing the pace ever so slightly as he leaned over you.

“Please. Just. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just don’t stop.”

“Oh, don’t stop?” He slowed just a bit more, grinning down at you. You could only whine in response, hips moving sloppily now, trying to encourage him to fuck you faster. Harder. He obliged… for the moment. Your walls slowly grew tighter, your moans more heady and uncontrolled. You felt the coil tighten. Tighten. Tighten…

And then he slowed again. Painfully. Your orgasm held at bay, he couldn’t have appeared more smug, knowing exactly what he was doing. You looked up at him, flushed and desperate.

“Why’d you do that?” A whine, to which his response was simply to kiss you. Again, he picked up the pace, adding another finger, making sure you felt just how much he stretched you. Oh, you felt it. Your vision went blurry at the sensation, focusing on him and only him.

It didn’t take much to bring you to that edge again, the coil tightening even more, threatening to break with every rough pump of his fingers. He was hovering over you now, leaning down and biting on your shoulder, sucking a mark into it. Apparently, he didn’t think about the consequences of that… or maybe he didn’t care. Nevertheless, he bit again, smirking into your shoulder as you arched your back and rode his fingers, dramatically chasing your high. You were so, so close, every muscle in your body tense, hands scratching down his back.

“Come on, baby. Come for me.”

It hit like a brick to the face after that, overtaking you in every way as you moaned and gasped, holding onto him for dear life. He nuzzled his face into you, kissing and sucking marks down your chest to your abdomen, every press of his lips electric.

Everything felt blurry and yet razor sharp, every muscle in your body twitching in the aftershocks. You barely registered that he had kissed back up your body, hands on either side of your head as he waited above. His lips locked with yours the moment your eyes focused, your hands immediately twisting in his hair, holding him as close to you as you could.

You felt the weeping head of his cock prod at your folds, one of his hands guiding it to rub against your clit, still sensitive from your first orgasm. You mewled with anticipation, your hips grinding down against him.

“Patience…” he breathed against your lips, your hips stilling as he slowly slid inside. Just the head. A gasp from both of you. And then another inch. Fuck. And then another. And another. Until you felt all of him and all you could do was pull him in for another consuming kiss. He started with a slow pace, almost sweet, letting you get used to his size. It quickly grew intense, rough and fast, as he let himself fall into the demands of desire. Your hands grabbed at anything on him you could as he overwhelmed you with his force.

It really was unfair, the way he was fucking you. You didn’t stand a chance against him, not finding a single opportunity to gain the upper hand, left only to meet his thrusts with reckless abandon as you moaned with each moment he filled you. You liked it, though, being at his mercy. You trusted him, strangely. You could probably get used to this.

He’s stronger than you thought possible, his grip on your thighs surely bruising you as you writhed and arched your back at a particularly delicious sensation within you. You couldn’t help but close your eyes, completely lost in the rhythm and harshness of the snap of his hips. He bared his teeth as he fucked you harder. Faster. Tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the intensity. And then his hand was over your mouth, his eyes off you for the first time since this dance began. He was scanning outside the open window, watching a car come down the street, thinking it could be the rest of the group. That didn’t mean he stopped fucking you. In fact, it only got more intense.

“That’s right. Fucking take it.” he was back to looking down at you and your wide eyes, burying himself so deep inside you, you were sure he was ruining you entirely, “that’s it, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” Except he didn’t pull his hand from your mouth, smirking as you attempted to speak anyway, your mind too gone. That is.. until he slid himself fully inside, grinding his hips against yours. You moaned out loud, sure that the neighbors have heard you by now, your walls squeezing around him and feeling the drag as he pulled his cock out entirely.

“On your knees,” a simple order, and yet your brain was static. You blinked up at him before shaking away the fog and turning yourself over, wiggling your ass in his face just a little. His growl shook you, two strong hands grabbing hold of your ass and squeezing.

“Love this ass. Always loved this ass. Estuve soñando al respecto,” he kept squeezing, spreading you and groaning at the sight. You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, giving it another shake in his face. Suddenly, you felt teeth on flesh, letting out a yelp that quickly became a satisfied sigh, your head dipping down past your shoulders. Somehow, you didn’t expect his hand to come crashing down on you, the slap against your ass ringing out in the empty house. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, too immersed in the moment to acknowledge anything but the way your back arched and your chest created the most depraved noise you’d ever heard.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Another slap, you gripped at the bedsheets to keep yourself grounded, “you like being treated like a whore?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered involuntarily, nearly slapping your own hand over your mouth at the realization of what you’d said.

“What.. did you just call me?”

“Nothing…”

A ruthless slap, “Tell me.”

You sobbed at the impact, “sir.”

The growl in his chest shook you, and with little warning his cock was pressing to your folds once again, sliding in with ease and setting a brutal pace right off the bat. You dropped to your elbows and arched your back, eyes closing as your head once again dropped. Of course, he took advantage and leaned over you, one hand finding the back of your head and pressing you down into the bed, holding it there. He slapped your ass with the other, laughing when you moaned into the mattress. It left the prettiest pink handprint, he almost wished he could get a picture of it.

You couldn’t believe the way he was fucking you. Like— like a whore, just like he said. You’d think he’d be gentle with you, being your first time together, that he’d want to show you how worthy he was of your pussy. In a way, he was showing you that. He was showing you his worth by fucking you absolutely stupid, and you were loving it. So much that you weren’t far from another climax, feeling your walls tighten around him, dragging such a beautiful sound from him. His hand found your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your head off the bed. You cried out, steadying yourself on your hands. It was overwhelming, every sensation he subjected you to, to the point that you felt completely delirious with pleasure, all sense of control lost. You fucked yourself sloppily back on his cock, his fist pulling tighter on your hair. The tears pricked your eyes again, eyes whiting out.

“Ohhh fuck, are you coming? You filthy little—” he didn’t finish, groaning as your cunt rhythmically clenched around him, his own thrusts growing more erratic. You didn’t even hear him praising you with little ‘good girls’ and whispers of how good you feel, your head clouded with the sounds of your own depravity. You rode out your orgasm for what felt like hours, nearly collapsing as your body ceased quaking.

Your brain was working in half time, barely registering that he was still fucking you slowly, trying to bring you back to reality. You tried to speak, but the words were completely incoherent.

“Need a minute,” you finally mumbled, reaching back and grabbing his hand that rested on your hip. He obliged, pulling out and laying down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your breath caught gradually, your mental faculties growing stronger by the second despite your throbbing cunt. You sighed contentedly, leaning up and kissing him for just a moment. You had your own ideas, now, and one in particular overtook your thoughts.

You kissed him again, grabbing hold of his cock, still slick with you. Your hand stroked him softly as you shifted down the bed, timidly tapping his leg as to ask him to open them. He did so, and you climbed between them, licking your lips as his cock bobbed in anticipation. You took him hungrily into your mouth, not bothering to tease, too eager to feel him.

Now it was your turn to show how unfair you could be, expertly taking him deep into your throat, holding there until you choked. Immediately, he was gone, head falling back on the pillow until he realized he would rather watch you. Your hand assisted your bobbing head, using your tongue to lap at every vein and ridge of his perfect dick. His groans and words of encouragement and yes gatitas only fueled you, giving everything you had to taking him. You almost wanted him to cum right there, to lose all composure and fill your mouth. He had other plans, however, pulling you by the hair off his cock and admiring the fucked out look on your face.

“So fucking pretty,” he mused, pulling you up to him and kissing you. It was all a ploy, of course, and you let him guide you to straddle him, your hips hovering just above his waiting cock. He ordered you to look at him, your brain already to fuck drunk disobey, eyes fixed on him as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Go ahead, take it all,” he couldn’t help but grin, brow furrowing in pleasure as you did just that, your own face mirroring his. It was almost too much, almost. Getting your balance, you slowly began to bounce on his lap, leaning on his shoulders for leverage. From there it was an endurance test, the pleasure of riding him only tainted by the strain it put on your knees. Still, you continued, his hands finding your hips to help bounce you on his lap, mewling when his hand crashed down on your ass.

You loved having the power. Loved watching his face twist in pleasure as you grinded your hips down onto his. … and you loved that it took little effort for him to suddenly flip you onto your back once more, placing your legs up around his shoulders as he sunk back into you. Every thrust was slow now. Powerful. So much so that each one knocked you back into the wall. It didn’t matter, you were too delirious by the way he was abusing that little spot inside you, seeing stars as you looked up at his concentrated face.

It was close, again, a climax brewing in your core that nearly overtook you the moment you felt it. Your sighs and moans became whines, hands gripped the sheets below you as he just continued with each knock of his hips to yours, folding you up as he leaned forward and somehow sunk impossibly deeper inside you. You pleaded to him, begged him, did everything you could to encourage him to keep going, please. Just another minute. ‘I’m so close’. But he didn’t even have time to stop, the wave crashing over you as the last ‘please’ left your lips and all you could hear was ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting through each perfect squeeze of your walls around him.

And suddenly you heard something new. A breathy sort of noise intermixed with ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ as his thrusts grew less calculated. Almost sloppy. His hips jerking with every thrust until he couldn’t stall any longer.

“Come on, Papí. Come for me…” you breathed, certain you were tearing the sheets at this point while your cunt pulsed around him, still coming yourself.

Papí. That was all it took for him to fill you, painting your walls as his fingernails dug crescents into your thighs. You laid there, chest heaving as the two of you shared a blissful moment, eyes locked in the realization of what had just happened. And then, as if to dispel the little voice of worry in the back of your mind, he let your legs down gently and climbed up beside you, taking your face into his hands and kissing you. It wasn’t a particularly passionate kiss, but it was perfect for that moment. Perfect enough to ease that budding anxiety.

“We should do that again…” he whispered into your ear, breaking the tension in the air as you burst into a laugh.

“I was thinking the very same thing.”

——

Friends who asked to be tagged: @melisabesurviving @bbygirlnessa18 @missfamilyjeweles @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @thealliasylum @romanreignkisser

[foursaints]

hi <3

first of all, i wanted to tell you i'm always stalking your blog (in a non creepy way) because i love everything about it. mostly i love how you use your big brain™️ to share some insanely detailed headcanons about some silly dead gay wizards (i mean that in the nicest way possible. i'm a little bit in love with you actually . anyway i'm digressing)

second of all, i wanted to know if you could share some of your thoughts about bartylily🤲🏻 because i'm fairly sure you're the main reason i'm hooked on them

much love <333

ANYTHING for bartylily... lately i've been attached to the idea of a college au where they're Rival Campus Radio Station Hosts.

barty is a spectacularly unmotivated senior who dropped out of a prestigious engineering degree to study practical SFX for horror movies instead. everyone has vague, peripheral knowledge of him after an incident where he was found passed out naked in the campus fountain. his apartment with the slytherins isn't technically a frat house but there's a structure in the kitchen affectionately referred to as the "Leaning Tower of Miller Lite" & barty has a nearly imperceptible crescent-shaped chip in his front tooth from a keg-standing mishap. he wears a lot of chains and has several john carpenter themed tattoos and he REEKS like cigarettes. so many pairs of mystery panties turn up in his laundry hamper that his housemates have started calling it the Lost And Found.

he has a deeply beloved & charmingly unpolished radio show in the primetime spot which mostly consists of him having his friends on, spotlighting terrible underground bands, and making drily ironical, beautifully mean jabs.

lily is an overzealous sophomore who's triple-majoring in three equally unmarketable degrees (it's, like, polisci & international affairs & communications) who's blessed with the gift of taking every single thing that happens on campus WAY too serious. she runs their Model UN like it's the navy. she's the RA who is always marching around her floor in a spaghetti-strap tanktop & bunny slippers with a scrunchie on her wrist, shaking her fist at people. there was a period following her breakup with james where she was literally reading Machiavelli for inspiration. she's right on the precipice of the cool-girl academic meltdown that will lead to Serious Character Growth, but she isn't quite there yet.

her well-made and well-researched radio show is relegated to the midnight timeslot, and even though all her friends listen to it she probably got into a spat with them for saying something along the lines of "obviously i dont care if its just YOU listening to it, remus!!!". she hate-listens to barty's show which she considers (lily voice) An Affront To Collegiate Journalism

they trade barbs at every function and absolutely nobody but the two of them takes their insane imaginary Radio Beef even remotely serious whatsoever. but it's dead serious TO THEM!!! lily is probably camping out in actual bushes with actual binoculars to sabotage his show, and the worst part is that it's actually working. she ISN'T obsessed with him (shut up!!!!!), and barty is mostly just aggravated on principle that the Uptight Lowerclassman Ruining His Life has such nice legs.

and they absolutely bone like crazy about it

[lovelyhan]

— again and again (a teaser) ⟢

pairing: mingyu x reader

summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

word count: 1.7k words

tags: exes, fake dating, pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut (in later scenes; the teaser is completely sfw)

warnings: some medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets)

notes: omg this is so long for a teaser, but it's fine LMAO i'll be away this weekend, so i thought i'd treat you guys to a little something i'm currently working on ^__^ i hope you like it!

When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place. 

In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by. 

But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.

The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second. 

By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line. 

You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.

“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—

“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.��

Well that’s news to you.

“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”

“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.” 

Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.

Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.

So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu. 

Until now.

“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”

Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.

“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”

“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”

The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”

“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”

There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan. 

“Five minutes from midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”

“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”

“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.” 

This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”

A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”

You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not. 

The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”

At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about. 

It’s just Mingyu after all.

“Okay, how about the guy who—”

“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”

He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”

“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”

“Yeah? I must be special then.”

Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. 

“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”

Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”

You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”

“Oh. Why? What for?”

You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.

“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”

Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.

“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”

…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”

“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”

“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?” 

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”

Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.

“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”

“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”

Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared. 

Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…

“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”

“Hey—”

You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.

end notes: like the teaser so far? leave a reply if you haven't filled out my taglist form yet and would like to be tagged once the full story is up!

edit: the full fic is up here!

[dapper-lil-arts]

Do you have any top tier horse yuri fic recs?

Hmm, i got a couple, lemme think

This one is a very sweet slice of life EG Sunset x Scitwi one, its got a lovely interpretation of the characters; With the expected but very welcome pairing of cool punk girl and adorable nerd. and i plan on doing fanart of it! The writer knows her stuff nyeheh =v= This is the best "Rarity and Applejack get drunk together and mushy stuff happens" Fic i seen out there, a trope that is surprisingly recurring, ive seen others like this! But this one is the best, hands down. A mutual of mine wrote it and its just a wonderful time! This one is a super fun horror esque rarijack fic where rarity is haunted and applejack tries to help her. its got fantastic prose and its just damn lovely! I've done fanart of it before, its a sweet one, and its also just a really interesting direction to take Rarity's character that i'm almost sad to not see more of. Overpowered rarity whennnn Although i don't ship twilight and trixie, this fic of this pairing, that is still ongoing, is fucking hilarious. The comedy has wonderful timing, and the takes on the characters are endlessly entertaining

Stay tuned to this wonderful fic of Rarijack anthros (Inspired by the ones i designed, too!!) 'cause its gonna have a sex sequel that i've already gotten a sneak peek or two of, and i'm frotthing at the mouth about it. biting things even (i sketched the cover btw!)

This fic isn't rly horse yuri but its 1000 words of Sunset Shimmer being the utter insane badass i always wished she was; and I will continue writing her like so. I'm glad to see another writer also concidered the same

If you're like me, and think that sex is funny, this fic and it's two sequels are for you. Sunset Shimmer throws a party of deranged proportions that ends in debauchery and indulgence that nearly destroys the fabric of equestria; and it's consequences are hilarious. This is a rly cute short trans rarity fic, and it has a delightful amount of rarijack within. utterly adorbs. Almost sad to see it so short! Finaly, i'd be amiss to not recommend the fics i've written myself; Here are my two biggest and most awesomest i've done: The Return of Midnight Sparkle Is a take on MLP where there is no EG universe, and rather, Sunset Shimmer is brought to the mane 6 per twilight's request, and she absolutely does not feel like she belongs, and its a narrative about her desperate attempts of fitting in; and dealing with the fallout of her failings. I put an inordinate amount of effort on this one, even drawing covers for each chapter. I went DERRANGED with the idea of "what if sunset shimmer was on FIM and also it was gay as fuck." i basicaly wrote an entire season of the show and its finale. If you're a fan of Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle as a pairing, cannot recommend enough. Here's some of the art i made for it. Insanely sick chapter covers im super proud of The Princess and the Peasant is an all you can eat buffet for Rarijack enjoyers, I've taken the baseline of the story of "shrek 1" and i made it about Applejack and Rarity; And also expanded upon it and fixed some of the annoyances with the og story (No third act misunderstanding! On the contrary. Third act understanding. SEX.) The humble farmer Applejack has to rescue fair Princess Rarity from a dragon keep, and escort her across Equestria to ensure that her farm and family are safe. Of course, on the journey, those two grow a bit close... Too close. VEry very very veyr close. Here's a comic i've made of one of my fave scenes of it lmaooo Cannot express enough; If you're a fan of rarijack? This fic is EVERYTHING for you.

[ryuttaeng]

My bad on sending the request when it wasn't open. I had no idea.

As you know, Yuna is a huge blink... so gip!Yuna and Jennie's little sister!reader is secretly hooking up and Yuna is scared of Jennie finding out because she doesn't want her idol to hate her, but one day Jennie catches them mid-f*ck.

pairing: gp!yuna x fem!reader

summary: being in entertainment industry always has its pros, meeting your biases included.

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. g!p, unprotected sex, reader is jennie’s sister, swearing/cursing, pet names, please do not read if sensitive/uncomfortable with such themes!

genres: smut

yuna couldn’t deny the privilege of being an idol. her main goal was to finally meet with her idol, blackpink member, jennie.

and she succeed… in different ways. yuna met with jennie, already befriended her and much more. and by much more she means having sex with her idol’s younger sister. actually, she couldn’t even imagine some kind of relationship between her and jennie’s younger sister, as she only seemed just friendly at first glance.

yuna would explain your glances on her as just being curious about your sister’s k-pop artist friend and nothing more. maybe she was your bias or maybe you was just being nice to her. but one thing led to another and yuna already were thrusting inside you in a brutal pace that midnight.

you was few months younger than yuna, so it wasn’t much difference between you both and actually you both became close friends before you two had sex.

jennie started to question your frequent visits to shin yuna’s apartments but you would always say you would just spend time chatting and she had trust in you.

you softly smiled, as you watched your girlfriend graze your body with her eyes. yuna’s eyes were liquid heat, and yuna could feel herself growing hard. it would never cease to amaze her how you could cause such a reaction in her with just a single look.

you wrapped your hands around yuna’s neck, your lips inches away from her as breath teasing her lips. “i just can’t stop thinking about you the whole day.” your hand teased the waistband of yuna’s pants, as yuna felt her cock twitching in her pants. yuna’s hands trailed down, teasing your entrance as you breathed out.

yuna wanted that heat wrapped around her dick, wanted to feel you clenching around her, feel you trembling in her arms, desperate to come. your hands trailed down on yuna’s body, sending shivers through her spine, as you pulled down her pants along with her boxers. yuna could see you watch in awe as her cock slaps against her stomach, it was a sight you would never get bored of.

not really caring about getting in bedroom, yuna aligned her length with your entrance but doesn’t seem to move. “yuna, please…” you breathed out, moving your hips forward, but it doesn’t seem to help. “i couldn’t hear you, love.” yuna whispered in your ear, making you whine.

“please?” you say again, but louder.

yuna smirks before she slid her length all the way into your wet hole. she could feel your walls almost immediately squeezing around her. starting to pump inside of you, you couldn’t hold back your moans, getting louder with each thrust and digging your nails into yuna’s back.

you could feel every inch of yuna’s hardness sliding in and out of you, filling you up and stretching you with each thrust. loosing themselves, yuna starts to thrust more faster, more primal, both of you on the edge of coming.

“o-oh god!” you both stopped, as you heard someone gasp.

your girlfriend immediately tried to cover you, as you turned your heads to look at the person. you nearly gasped when you saw your sister covering her eyes as she still stood there, definitely confused.

yuna dryly gulped, as she thought the worst possible scenario to come. will your sister be against your relationship? what would jennie think about her? she wanted to speak up, apologising, but jennie spoke first.

“i- you at least could’ve told me that you’re busy here, y/n!” jennie said, still covering her face. “i-i’m sorry, jen, i can explain…” you tried to indeed explain her, but your sister only shook her head. “no, i already know about your relationship, you guys not so good at covering it up. i will… go now.” and she left.

yuna still eyed the closed door as jennie left, blinking twice before she looked at you. “oh my god, do you think she’s gonna hate me?” she blurted out, definitely musing about it. you caressed her cheek, calming her down. “no, no she wouldn’t. i will talk with her later about it, no one’s gonna interfere our relationship.” and you felt yuna relaxing at your words.

few seconds of silence before yuna leaned in and softly kissed you. parting away, she looked at the other direction. “do you think she heard us when we had sex for the first time?” yuna asked mostly herself. “…i hope the answer is negative.”

[mavrintarou]

Christmas Morning - Suna Rintarou [2]

Happy New Years all! I hope to deliver stories we all desire for and complete my other ones lol

Warning: I'm starting the year with a bang of explicit contents (sorry not sorry) 18+

First part <<<>>> Third part

.

Two Christmas ago, Rintarou had hired an escort to be his plus one for their Japan Volleyball Association Winter Gala.

Your friend, Wendy, who is an escort, could not go after catching a stomach flu. Since middle school, you two have been mistaken plenty of times as sisters when you two had no blood relationship whatsoever.

Wendy had begged you on her knees, willing to pay you double the cost just for you to take her spot for one night because she can’t risk losing this job, so she would rather risk having you take her spot.

Knowing you could use the money, you agreed.

You pretend to be Wendy for the night under the alias name of Vylet.

That night was only supposed to be your fake Cinderella story.

You were only supposed to be his escort, a professional that served a purpose.

Your first initial impression of Suna Rintarou changed throughout the night. From someone who was very serious and almost no expression changed as you got to know him.

He’s not so bad, you thought at one point. He was actually funny, sarcastic yet kind. He was nothing but a gentleman to you.

And a gentleman in bed.

Exactly like Cinderella, you left his warm bed after midnight, with him deeply asleep.

You returned to your normal life, returning to your job working as a librarian. Hiding behind thick rim glasses and the exotic book you sneak to read during your passing time.

Two days after that amazing night, you would have never imagine the seven missed calls and over thirty text messages from Wendy was going to change your life.

Call me ASAP.

Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?

THIS GUY IS FUCKEN CRAZY!

WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME!

You flinched the moment you returned her call, and she was yelling at you.

“He wants you!” Was the first thing she shouted. “He fucken wants you again!”

Forget a hello.

. .

“You need to calm down,” you whisper, walking away to a quiet room. Good thing the library was closing and there wasn’t many people left. “What are you talking about?”

Wendy takes a deep breath. “He came to my work place today asking for me… asking for you!”

You’re so confused. “Who?”

“SUNA RIN!” You flinched, holding the phone away from your ear. “Suna Rin, the guy you banged!”

You’re still confused. “What? Why?”

“You tell me! You probably gave him some good ass sex so he’s coming back. He came in and directly talked to my manager, asking for me – asking for you – that was me. Wanted a to reserve me for a months’ time.” She paused to breathe, “I had no idea, when I went to meet him the first thing that came out of his mouth was, ‘You’re not Vylet.’.”

She yelled your name again, “you gotta help me… we need to tell him the truth or else he’s going to get me fired. First… you weren’t supposed to sleep with him and second… he knows the truth.” Her voice whined, “I can’t get fired Y/n… you gotta meet him.”

. .

Two days later, you still haven’t found the courage to message Suna Rintarou.

Wendy’s patience was running low, and she was begging you to reach out to him. He gave her three days for you to reach out to him.

“Is it three full days or two full days and at midnight of the third –“ your muttering gets cut off at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You calmly turned your head, and you nearly lost your balance on the gliding ladder when you realized who it was. The library book you were trying to put back in its original spot slipped from your grip falling onto the carpet floor with a loud thud.  

Like a fool you fumble to regain your grip on the wooden ladder. “You…”

He steps forward, pushing himself off the book shelves, “me, Suna Rintarou.” He nodded his head downward, to indicate for you to step down.

Very carefully and painfully slow, you stepped down with one hand while the other pressed behind your behind. It was not a good day to wear a below the knee-length flowy skirt.

To be fair, it was ten minutes to closing time and your other coworkers would round up everyone to close up so you didn’t think you would have to worry about anyone coming to find you. Besides, you were all female librarians and you all wore skirts.

A palm is thrusted towards you, “let me help you.”

“I can manage, thank you.” You mumble, taking the last four steps. He had already grabbed the fallen book, holding it by his side. “I can… take that.”

He shifts his hand, keeping it away from you when you attempted to reach for it. “I’ve been looking and waiting for you.”

Normally, if you had read that line in a novel, it would have gotten your heart racing and panties bunching up. You liked men who were straight forward. Especially your male-lead characters.

Now, a hot ass stud is saying that to you in real life.

“I was… going to reach out.” You mutter quietly.

He leans down, a brow raised. “Were you?”

You can only nod, speechless.

“You had me fooled, Vylet.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can blurt.

“Are you?” Something flashes in his eyes, and you swallow the lump in your throat. “You see, Vylet,” his finger touches your jaw, “you hurt me by leaving that night like that. I thought what we shared was deep and more than a fling?” His green eyes were captivating, making you feel hypnotized. “Do you know how I feel not only waking up alone? But to wanting you again and request for you only to be greeted by another face?”

With each tiny step you took backwards, he took a full one to make sure there are no space in between you two. “At first glance, I almost thought she was you, but it only took me a few seconds to realize, she was not you.” You froze in place when he lowers his head until the tip of his nose brushes against your neck. A finger tugs at your turtle neck and you knew what he was looking for, “because she didn’t have the mark I gave you.”

You gasp the moment you made it home and saw your reflection in the mirror. You had one very large hickey in plain sight and many others scattered everywhere else. Even your turtle neck tops could not completely hide the prominent red mark.

Were you so lost in your exotic mind that you didn’t even realize he was a non-blood sucking beast?

Snapping out of your lost thoughts, you gently slapped his hand away and took a full step back, adjusting your clothes. “I’m sorry I deceived you. I’m sure by now you know why and what happened, and I am truly sorry… your feelings were hurt, Mr. Suna.”

His brows rose and head tilted, “you seriously going to call me Mr. Suna after I had you screaming Rin that night?”

“Can you not talk so loud.” You gritted, you peeked behind him, it was a matter of time before someone will find him. “I said I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You’re not off the hook just because you apologized.”

Your ears perked as you hear the click of one of your co-worker’s heels.

Coming closer.

“It’s closing time, you need to leave.” You tried to turn him around, but he wouldn’t budge.

“What was that?” Rin suddenly said loud and clear, purposedly. You narrowed your eyes at him, and he continued speaking loudly, “how are you going to make –“

“The library is closed now, please see your way to the exit.” It was your supervisor’s voice.

“Rin,” you whispered, “I’ll do whatever you want, just… go.”

“What time do you get off?”

You blink, “what?”

His eyes are leveled with yours; you don’t realize the height difference until now. “I asked you what time you get off, I don’t want you running away on me again. We’re going to talk tonight, after you get off of work.”

A deep sigh leaves your lungs, “thirty minutes top if there aren’t too many books to be put back.”

“I’ll wait for you in the parking lot then,” a fast hand snakes behind the back of your head and your lips are pressed against his. Your body betrays you, your eyes closing, your mouth opens to meet his hungrily too.

He pulls away, leaving you both breathless and lips tingling. “If you run away, I’ll find you.”

.

The cold winter air hits you as soon as you exit the library doors. You shrink further into the fluffy soft scarf around your neck.

His car… you’re positive it’s his car because a normal person wouldn’t ride their fancy expensive sports car to the library.

The car shifts into gear and reverses out of the parking space. Your feet stops, it’s him, right?

The dark tinted window rolled down, “what are you waiting for? Get in?”

You fumble with the seatbelt in his car when two large hands takes over, buckling you in place. He looks at you with amused eyes, “let’s go?”

“Where are we going?”

“To eat.”

The thirty-minute car ride was the longest of your life. Neither of you spoke so you listen to him quietly sing along to some songs he had playing quietly.

Pretty face and nice voice, you thought.

But your mind reverts back to your inner consciences.

The angel that’s sitting on your right shoulder is asking you why you are sitting in the car with this man you barely know of. “This is a red flag!”

The devil on your left shoulder responds snarky, “barely know of? Homegirl got the best D from this guy – she knows this man.”

You shake your head, shooing the unhelpful voices in your head.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything to you.” Rin answers, as if heard the voices. “Yet.”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes, pushing your glasses up. “What exactly do you want from me?”

With one hand on the steering wheel and looking straight ahead, he was the perfect image you imagine when you’re reading your novel and the author describes the male lead’s physique driving.

Sharp jawline.

Define nose.

“Done checking me out?”

You make a face at him when he quickly glances over at you with a grin on his face. “Yes,” you answered.

He shifts his focus back on the road, his other hand rubs his chin. “What exactly do I want from you, you ask?” he paused, “I have two answers for you, which one do you want first?”

“What kind of answers are they?”

“Good ones, of course.”

Letting out a huff and puff, “what are your answers?”

He holds one finger up and doesn’t hesitate to respond, “one, I want sex with you again. In my bed, preferably. Like, as much as possible.” A second finger pops up, “and two, I want to continue what we had that night, meaning, being no-strings but exclusive to each other because I don’t want to share you.”

This man has been nothing but upfront with you.

You’ve read these lines in your exotic romance novels plenty of time and now you’re beating yourself as you would always wish for a hot male blood to say this to you.

And how you could see yourself agreeing to have no-string-attachment relationships.

And now, you have someone saying it to you and you’re not sure how you feel about it.

Your mouth opens but no words come out. You close your mouth and inhale sharply.

“Are you normally this straightforward and honest?” you glance at him.

His head bobbles as he ponders, “yeah, you could say.” He looks at you for a second before eyes are on the road again. “Definitely straightforward but honest, maybe a little bit more honest than usual because it’s you.”

“Why?” you ask quietly after a few seconds of silence. “I am nothing in your league. As you can see, I’m just a librarian and I obviously don’t look like I did that night.”

Wendy had completely transformed you that night, turning you into someone even you couldn’t recognize under all that heavy expensive makeup.

“I don’t have an answer for you right now, maybe later? But all I can tell you right now is that I am obsessed with you for some reason, and I cannot shake it off.” You feel him glance over at you, “for the record, I don’t normally get attached to anyone.” After a solid minute, “you don’t get it, do you?”

Looking at him with confused look, “get what?”

He doesn’t answer you, but you guys pull up in front of a tall building. “Let’s go eat.”

You trail behind him as he leads you towards the elevator. The place was fancy and sophisticated.

Like a gentleman, he holds the elevator doors until you enter before following you. “Back to our conversation in the car, you don’t get it, do you?”

“No.” You replied, looking at him from the reflection of the doors.

In a heartbeat, you’re barricaded by his arms. He lowers himself until he’s eye level with you, “it means that you made it challenging for me get over you and no matter what I do the last couple of days, you’re all I want.”

His face comes closer to yours, his lips only inches centimeters away but it doesn’t touch yours.

Yet.

His eyes are on your lips and his head tilts and just before what you felt like he was going to kiss you, the door dings open.

He looks just as disappointed as you, his tongue clicks, and he steps back from you. “Come, let’s go eat.”

You don’t complain when he takes you by your hand leading you and you pray your palm doesn’t become sweaty.

. .

“Order whatever you like please, this meal is on me.”

Your eyes scan the menu, and everything was insanely expensive. “I’ll have whatever you’re having too.”

His gaze on you for a second before his lips curve, “sounds good.”

You stare awkwardly at each other after the waitress walks away after taking your orders. “I’m not sure… so,” you crack your knuckles. “So, so you want to be,” you lean in and whispered, “friends with –?”

He seems amused at everything you’ve been saying. “Fuck buddies… friends with benefits… sure? That’s what I want. Are you down?”

“Friends with no benefits.” You corrected. You waited until he gave you his full undivided attention. “Just sex. No staying the night, no dinner like this, nothing that will come with feelings.”

Rin stares at you for a few seconds. “Okay but let’s finish this dinner as part of sealing the deal.”

“Part?”

“And then we go back to my place and complete the final part.”

.

The headboard of Rin’s bed knocked into the wall with each hard thrust.

You didn't get the chance to finish your food before he got up and came around to pull you out of your seat and walking out of the restaurant.

The elevators went up many floors and into private hallways.

Apparently, he lived in the same building.

“Ah! Ri – Rin!” he thrust particularly hard, hitting deep. He’s held down both your wrists keeping you from touching him. His mouth is busy sucking on the skin of your neck.

As soon as your top came off and he saw the visible yet healing mark he left days ago. His thumb pressed against the purple shade skin. “Your skin is so beautiful… I want to mark every inch of it.”

And he did. Everywhere.

“Rin,” you moaned when his thrusts fasten. The pressure is released from your wrist and large hands pushes your thighs into your chest. Your inner thighs had teeth markings all over.

His eyes follow your line of vision, and he gives your thighs a handful squeeze. “You have…” he thrusts deep and grinds his hips, “the most exquisite body I have ever touched…” he chokes on his words and grins, “fuck… squeeze me like that… your pussy is heaven…”

His hips roll thrice before you shiver in ecstasy.

Your body jerks momentarily before Rin follows.

. .

“You’re up to something… I don’t know what but something about you is different.”

You look up at Wendy with confusion. It has been a few weeks since you last saw her, or talked to her.

Because you have also been busy with a certain person. “I’m not up to anything at all?”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously at you. “You’re… glowing. Not in a pregnant way but like… your skin is like poppin’ and you just reek…” she gasped, “you’re sleeping with someone, aren’t you!?”

You make a face at her and grit, “can you keep your voice down please!”

Her eyes widen, “with that dude?”

You mutter a yes, stuffing your mouth with food.

“Wow. So, are you two a thing?”

You shake your head, “no.”

“So, you two just fucking each other?”

“Your mouth is so vulgar.”

Wendy sneer, “please, I’m sure a face like Suna, his mouth is nothing but filth in bed, right?”

You don’t answer because she is damn right.

A few hours ago, he unexpectedly stopped by your library during your lunch break. He showed up with food and together you both sat in his car eating in the back of the library parking lot. This was only an exception since he was going to be gone for four days overseas for a game.

With less than ten minutes left, he was determined to make use of it.

You gave him a wary look as he pat his thighs, “come here.” Your heart leaps every time when he makes such fucken sexy demands. But you don't allow him to get away with it every time. You raise a brow at him, and his cheeky ass would flash a smile at you before adding, “please.”

With only nine minutes left, you climb over the middle console and swing your legs over his lap. Your legs widen to accommodate his thick muscular thighs.

Which you adored grazing your palm against when you’re on your knees with him inside of your mouth.

The top of your head meets the top of his car, and you hold onto his shoulders for support as he lifts your skirt until he can slip his hand underneath, fingers hooking your panties aside. “You’re so wet already?”

“Just hurry, you got seven minutes now.”

He hums and press his face against your breast, “stop wearing so many clothes. I don’t have enough time to undo these fucken small buttons.” You had your blouse on as well as your cardigan over, it wasn’t your fault he showed up at work with your usual work attire. “Lower your hips, baby.” He chuckles and you know why, “you love it when I call you baby, huh? You clench tighter.” Lately he’s been cocky about doing things to you or saying things to you to rail you up and loving the reaction he gets out of it.

Glancing up at you with his green puppy eyes he asks, “can I call you baby all the time now?”

His long fingers slips wholly inside of you and slap a hand over your mouth – remembering you guys are out in public.

You feel a pinch and gasp, looking down at him as he bites your breast through the clothing materials. “Give me permission, or else I won’t let you cum on my fingers.”

Rin always asks for permission, usually, after he’s done it, but he always asks for permission to do it again if he knows you enjoyed it as much as he did.

Like tying your wrists up and blind folding you.

Like using the vibrator as he slowly fucks you.

“Ah, ok – okay fine!” You didn’t want to cum on his fingers, you wanted to cum on his cock.

Especially if you were going to be four days without it.

Rin slips his fingers out of you, and you look down at him disappointedly.

“You want my cock?”

Had you spoken out loud?

“Tell me now, baby, cause you have five minutes left...” He was rushing you now.

“Fine – yes hurry.”

He slips himself out easily with his joggers and you both freeze. “I don’t have a condom.”

You didn’t either.

He swears under his breath, and you say the craziest thing. “Cum inside of me.”

Didn’t need to tell him twice.

In three minutes, the both of you were shaking in bliss. “Fuck,” he swears breathless, “this is am – mazing… so perfect…” he groans when your walls tremble around his sensitive cock.

His cum shooting inside of you was a different type of heaven but you agree with him that not having a condom this time around was perfect.

With a minute remaining, he combs your long curls behind your ear, “this isn’t how I had imagine cumming inside of you would be like… I don’t think I can go back.”

You returned to work through the back doors with wobbly legs. You feel stickiness between your thighs and hurry towards the bathroom. Lifting your skirt up you grab some napkin, quickly wiping the residue between your legs.

You’ve read it many times in your novels and it's exactly how authors describes it.

Like Rin, you don't think you can go back either.

“Earth to Y/n?”

You look up at Wendy and she rolls her eyes. “You are so whipped for him.”

. . .

E/N: #hornyjail

>>> @hellatrashdontask @queenelleee @wrongimagine @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @satoritendoucultsacrifice @yourgonvermnethooker @littlemochi @cloud-lyy @pana-dolle @basmamme @haitanifxn @itsroseally @warrior-of-justice @jmnfilter @captainchrisstan @omissanitizerlol

[bas-writes]

Above The Stars

Character: Rosinante Reader: gender neutral Word Count: 1697 CW: fluff, slice of life, Rosinante lives!AU, dilf!Rosinante, established relationship Synopsis: Rosinante lures you out of the ship in such an unusual way you immediately suspect there's something on his mind. You're not ready, though, for what exactly. A/N: a little @onepiece-blorboexchange thingie I wrote for @tardiiart :3 happy valentine's season, my dear, I hope you'll enjoy your dose of tooth-rotting fluff 🤭

Rosinante rarely lured you out to places like this: reclusive, wild and, most importantly, away from the crew's curious ears. It’s so not in his style you’ve started growing suspicious as soon as you left town’s outskirts, soon leaving the inhabited part of the island far behind your backs. Since you knew him—for many, many years of friendship and relationship—your boyfriend was rather a cozy, if not lazy type, preferring guarding the ship over escapades and little local bars over campings deep in the forest. Given his clumsiness and Law’s overly anxious approach to his family, it was probably the best idea, to just not test his luck and warm old scars in the sun. Warmth and comfort are Rosinante’s style: oversized sweaters, scruff, messy, tad too long, hair and crow’s feet smiling at you whenever he sees you.

Sneaking out of Polar Tang at midnight, like teenagers, and rustling towards the unknown, brings out memories of the distant past, and raises questions. Your head is buzzing with curiosity, bubbling the more the deeper into the night he drags you.

He’s up to something.

The chosen place overlooks the whole bay, from the side opposite to the town you’ve docked by, its lights blinking on the horizon and melting into the sea. The seashore here mounts into cliffs, but the road wasn’t steep, leading you up gradually and without strain. No wonder the effect stuns you; you sink into the views in silence, gentle breeze messing with your hair and engulfing you with scent of the grass and forest. 

“So, what do you think?” Rosinante embraces you from behind, crossing huge, warm hands over your chest and pulling you into his torso. You rest your head against his stomach: even when hunched forwards, he still towers over you with such ease. “Nice view, eh?”

‘Nice’ sounds nearly vulgar when used to describe what you see. The game of lights and water is already breathtaking, but when your gaze flicks up, your chest clenches almost painfully with admiration. The sky is perfect-clean, free of lights, free of moon, millions of stars gleaming right above your heads, so close yet, more distant than anything. 

“How did you find this place? When—” You struggle to form thoughts into words, your tongue tied and stupid.

“I asked and listened here and there.” Laughter rumbling in Rosinante’s chest vibrates through your body. “Give old man a break. I still know how to grab a good spot.” 

“Rosi, you’re not even forty yet…”

“But I have gray hair, see? He leans close, shamelessly pushing his shaggy head into your face. “Here, some new ones on the side.”

Humming with amusement, you cup his face and kiss him, still having to tiptoe to reach his lips. He tastes of herbal mouthwash and mint gum, a subtle explanation for the lack of cigarette smell and his trembling hands. A great sacrifice and even bigger urge to indulge with this opportunity, but you know well he didn’t lure you out of Polar Tang just to make out. It’s so hard to resist the temptation, but curiosity and respect for his efforts win over it. With a playful bite on his bottom lip you finish the kiss and let him guide you to the ground level.

Rosinante settles you comfy in his lap, keeping you away from the grass. You wouldn’t mind sitting next to him instead, but you can’t—and don’t want to—complain. It’s nice to be treated like a doll or plushie by him, the size difference between you two always provoking his endearing, protective side. You know better than anyone that this man has plenty of rough edges, but you find it only more pleasant to engulf in this contrast. There’s no way you would let his soft puppy moment go to waste because of some stupid whims.

“Should have brought a flask…” He mutters, resting chin on the top of your head. “Mulled wine or hot chocolate or…something. And sandwiches.”

You hum thoughtfully, already smiling, “You forgot.”

“I forgot. Everything’s left in the mess.”

Taking one of his hands between yours, you rub calming circles, then little hearts, on its back. His skin is rough and scarred; you know the net of cuts and burns by heart, every nook and crevice mapped in your mind. There’s one particularly weird on his ring finger, a thin line almost encircling it. You asked him once if it was left by a real ring, for him to just shrug and claim he didn’t remember. You didn’t press him, there was a part of his past Rosinante didn’t wish to recall, and you respected that. But still, you always gave a little extra attention to that scar when your fingers happened to find it on their way. 

He’s never made a comment on your interest, but now he went silent, tense even, his hand starting to clench into a fist. You stop and try to release him, but as soon as your grasp eases, the other hand cups yours and presses them close, where they were.

“No, no, go on.” He encourages before going silent again, the tone of his voice different, lower and more silent, when he eventually speaks again. “Law is leaving North Blue.

“Oh, is that so.” You haven’t expected…that. Not the topic alone, you suspected it was going to happen sooner than later. But for Rosi taking an extra effort just to talk about it? “You won’t stop him?”

“As if I could have any influence on this stubborn mule.” Now he’s the one rubbing your hands. “He ain’t a kid anymore and got himself a strong crew. The Blues are too tight for rookies of this caliber.”

The characteristic twitch of his fingers tells you how much he needs to play with a cigarette between them. He’s more addicted to this playful, mindless move than to nicotine itself, always looking for it when nervous, uncertain or angry. Nothing could replace a cigarette for this ritual, he tried and always grew impatient, eventually snapping even faster than when he had nothing to toy with.

But this time he remains calm. And eventually finds a voice to speak, “But we are not pirates, Y/N.”

“We live with pirates,” you point, smirking. “For years.”

“Neither of us has a bounty. For the Navy we might be as well as non-existing.”

“Don’t tell me you want to enroll back.”

“I’m too old to play a dog, silly.” Rosinante laughs so hard you’re both shaking. “Thought of a full retirement. You know, a little house. A dog, maybe a cat, hell, maybe some chicken, let’s be generous. We would live from selling cigarettes and honey, cut out crosswords and our kids’ photos out of newspapers, and bitch together about how it was in our good times.”

“You make it sound as if we were both old and gray.” You nudge him with an elbow. “Stop adding me years, will you? You’re the one with white hair, not me.”

“Oh, now that’s rubbing salt into wounds. You’re breaking my poor heart.”

Rosinante hides face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks ticklish with scruff soon to become a beard. You tense, expecting a full-frontal attack of affection, but he just kisses you and nuzzles close up, squeezing you tight in his strong arms.

“I was serious about a house.” He speaks, his deep voice so close to your ear sending a small, involuntary shiver down your spine. “I saved enough to get us a comfy place. Maybe even here, if you like. And we would still have enough for a wedding ring.”

Oh.

The puzzles in your mind have already been moving into the right place, but now they click together at once, the realization rushing through your veins, your heart thumping so loud its beat nearly blocks any other sound. Is he being serious—

“I know this is sudden.” Rosinante sits straight, both of his hands cupping your face and guiding you to look right at him. “But if we ever… If you want me, if you want to… I just want Law to see before he leaves. Who knows when—if we ever—see him again. And he’s a captain, he could even do it for us himself.”

“Do you…” With your throat suddenly tight and dry you can barely speak. As if any words could get out of your spinning mind in the first place… “Rosi, do you…”

“Marry me, Y/N.”

A lump blocks your throat as you freeze on a thin line between laughing, crying and you’re not sure yourself what else. Strong emotions pull you into all directions at once as the man of your life gently traces your cheekbones with his thumbs, looking down at you with love, anxiety and yearning. His hands are trembling, not because of the nicotine craving anymore, you’re sure of it—because his touch is burning you the same way, to the core of your heart. Years of your shared love, the experience and ordinariness, are meaningless now, in the silence between his question and your answer.

“Yes. Of course, I will marry you.” You finally choke out just to be squished and silenced again, by his chest this time, as he enthusiastically pulls you close, his embrace so tight you seem melting into him.

You’re holding onto each other until the awkward pose forces you to move, half-asleep limbs tangled. You feel wetness on your cheeks and Rosinante’s make up is a bit smudged—so you both laugh at your watery state, wiping tears with sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you give me a ring?” You ask between giggles.

“The ring, yeah. Ring!” Rosinante reaches for the pocket in his pants, finds nothing but spare change and a pack of tissues. Growing pale, he frantically checks every pocket and nook of his clothes, even paws at the grass around. “Shit… Y/N, I think I left the ring with the rest of stuff.

You look at his awkward smile and cheeks turning scarlet red—and can’t help but laugh so much your voice echoes through the bay. How can you possibly not love this dumbass?

[growthf]

hello! can i request zhongli, al haitham, scaramouche, and xiao with m!reader who is a kpopers? isekaid reader/modern au is okay! i just randomly saw your profile and bam! youre a kpopers(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠), its okay if its a girlgroup or boygroup, and if you can only write for only several characters, its also okay! feel free to delete and dont forget to drink water & keep healthy (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♪

ask and you shall receive! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

✩ zhongli, al haitham, scaramouche, & xiao x k-fan!male!reader

^^; modern au, reader has a slight (large.) obsession

a/n: thank you for the request! i hope this meets your expectations!!

ZHONGLI

occupancies you to every concert, fansigning, and popup store (all attended with your money btw!!!)

your favorite group is performing somewhere across the sea?? you best believe he’ll be right on that plane with you

doesn’t understand fanchants in the slightest, but always loves the look on your face when you’re enjoying yourself

when he first went to a fansigning with you he was confused ?!?!!

don’t all these people have jobs or something???

you had told him it was a popular event within groups and that most take the day off, but he really felt like the world was cramped into a tiny room that day

follows you around whenever you’re shopping or trying to find a new album

watches you open it purely to see your eyes light up when you get a pc of your bias

if you’re into a boy group he’s probably a little jealous you’re screaming over some guy other than him, but it’s not like he’d ever tell you that

“there’s a performance in a neighboring state? it would be fun to see somewhere new together, i’ll come with.”

AL HAITHAM

super confused at first

you like flying millions of miles ?!!?! to see people sing & dance ??? next to millions of other people !?!?

you might as well had him play some musical cartoons if you wanna see people sing & dance–at least it’s free!!

when you explained clearly he understood a little better

he still stays at home though

UNLESS you go out of state or country, he’ll fly with you but just stay in your shared hotel room till you come back

who wants to deal with people that’ll probably rip him apart if he says the wrong thing in the wrong tone

his first time at your house was a tough one

not only were there posters as far as the eye could see, but your desk and most of your shelves were decorated to the brim with merchandise and other things

how could you even afford all that AND pay bills at the same time???

you forced him to a concert once and he nearly broke.

yelling, screaming, shouting, so many lights and flashes, everything happening all at once

made you drive to the hotel that night.

“call me on your way back, i’ll see if room service offers any midnight treats.”

SCARAMOUCHE

went to one concert at had a love hate relationship with it

you’re enjoying yourself? yay!!! you’re screaming over someone other than him?? boo!!

went to all the concerts with you after that just to make sure you didn’t get any funny ideas

went to a fansigning and oh. my. god.

nearly passed out before y’all made it to the car

he made a mental note for himself to go everywhere BUT fansignings after that incident

bought an album for you as a birthday gift and the way you practically melted made him confused??!?!

what’s so special about pictures of some people who don’t even know you??

(made sure to keep up on your favorite group(s)/solos to see if there’s any upcoming albums so he can see your reaction again)

if you have a decked out room AND ita bag, he’s probably questioned how you manage to stay housed a couple of times

how can you afford bills, concerts, AND merchandise, yet you couldn’t afford the $2 cookies at your last hang out???

does not understand your money logic in the slightest

“anything happening this weekend? ..a fansigning.. you go ahead and have fun, i think i’ll pass on this one..”

XIAO

a mix of al haitham and zhongli tbh

wants to see you have fun but also doesn’t wanna be around all those screaming people

will accompany you to a concert every now and then depending on when and where they’re taking place

says he forgets all your biases but has a note on his phone with every name you mention on it

even follows most of their socials, too

you wonder sometimes how he manages to keep up with things that even you haven’t heard about yet and he’s glad you haven’t figured him out

whenever you talk about a new album or single releasing soon, you’ll always find it outside your door despite not ordering it yet

went with you to a fansigning and honestly he kinda enjoyed it

i mean yeah, the lines were hell and the people in line were annoying–but he liked how your face lit up when you finally made it to the front and got the signature you stood nearly a whole day for

made a promise to keep going with you even if others around were so nauseatingly loud

you showed him your photocard collection for the first time, and he was genuinely impressed with it

when and where did you even get all the money for them!?!

he checks in regularly to see if you have any new additions to the already large collection once in a while now

“what was the name of that group you liked again? right. well, they’re having a performance next week–it’s real close by, too.”

[thecreelhouse]

tramps like us

Paring: Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

CW/tags: angst, hurt and not much comfort, PTSD, language, a smidge of fluff

WC: 4.1k

Summary: Gator was supposed to come home to you, but he admits to becoming tangled up in his old life, before even starting his new one, with you. Without warning, he falls silent, leaving you in the dark as your fears run wild.

〘 this is a sequel to part time soulmate, full time problem ✧.┊listen to the series playlist here. ✧.┊read on AO3 〙

A/N: hi y’all, tysm for any support on this so far. I’m hoping this reaches the folks who kept asking for a sequel, so please don’t hesitate to leave feedback or reblog if you like this so far 🥺 if you do read this, enjoy <3

chapter 1 ✧. ┊

first thing to go - hayley williams

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

⋆｡♪ First thing to go was the sound of his voice / It echoes still, I’m sure, but I can’t hear it

Was it gentle or cold? Or maybe just noise? / I heard what I wanted, until I couldn’t. ♬ ₊˚.

══════════════════

It had been one week. One entire week since you came home from North Dakota, after attempting to visit your family for the holidays, an attempt made out of the last bit of familial loyalty fueled by the tiniest bit of guilt left in you.

Ten days set aside to hopefully, maybe, patch up whatever bond might be left between your parents and you. Unsurprisingly, not a shred of that bond existed. If you were being honest to yourself, that bond didn’t exist to begin with.

Instead, you rediscovered a bridge you believed was burned to ashes and buried long ago, with someone you believed you’d never hear from or see again. From childhood best friends to complete enemies, you dreaded the idea of having to spend three days with Gator Tillman. Fate had a sick joke up its sleeve, snowing in the two of you together for an entire week. A week you never dreamed would bring you to confessing feelings you had shoved to the back of your mind nearly a decade ago.

Now, one week after a teary-eyed and reluctant goodbye, you still haven’t heard from Gator when he promised he’d be here by now. Well, he hasn’t contacted you at least since New Year’s Eve, where you called him at midnight; as all of the other couples kissed as the past year rolled into the next, you were trying to find the quietest room in the house to talk to him.

“Damn, sounds wild on your end,” Gator laughed as he tried making out your words between loud, joyful sounds that filtered in through the empty blanks. 

You pout, despite him not being able to see it. “You owe me a kiss, Tillman.” 

“Next week, I promise. Can ya’ hang on ‘til then?”

“Hm, not quite sure, might die going that long without it.” Your teasing comment slid past him, distracted on his end. Only silence followed. “Gator?”

“Yeah?”

“… You are comin’ here next week, right?”

Asking a question like this, doubting his original intentions, all while drunk, was just a recipe for abandonment issues to flare back up.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” He didn’t sound irritated or upset that you questioned this, more concerned if anything. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

Maybe you were just overthinking things. After all, it had only been a day since you got home. Physically, he’s distant, but not emotionally. At least, you don’t think.

“No! No, you’re totally fine, Gator. M’sorry, just… just really miss you, is all.” That didn’t sound less pathetic than admitting the truth of fearing he was leaving you again.

“I’m comin’ home soon, darlin’, I promise. You’ve got no idea how much I want this week to be over with already. I just wanna be with you again.”

That’s when something clicked in your mind, and your stomach dropped. “… Does your dad have you workin’ some fucked up job again?”

Gator’s sigh weighed down with guilt came through the phone, heavy and pained.

“Fuck… you can’t be serious, Gator. What the fuck?!”

“I- I can explain—“

“Didn’t you severely hurt him the night we left the house?” You found yourself touching the healing wound on your face, now properly bandaged thanks to Ivy— a house mate and your best friend— and her professional nursing skills. She was pretty impressed that Gator did as decent of a job as he could with the few supplies he had on hand. That was something you wanted to tell him over the call, but now you’re just consumed by negative emotions, snaking around you before constricting the air from your lungs.

“Yeah, well, y’know Roy, he refuses to give up to anythin’, especially livin’. He’s like a goddamn cockroach.” His remark dripped in a vitriolic venom, something he once was terrified to ever voice out loud before last week’s disaster. “At least he ain’t bringin’ up what I did to him.”

Ignoring his last comment, you snap, “And doing his dirty work is justifiable? What the fuck is he making you do?”

Gator paused, feeling sick as he thought about what his dad has made him do so far in just the last twenty-four hours. “I— It’s fine. Look, I’m just doin’ this one last time, I’m wanted to secure extra funds for us—“

“Huh? Gator, we’re fine—“

“M’just tryin’ to help things in the future, alright?” He murmured, regretting his choices already. 

“What things? We can cross those bridges when we get to them. Gator, you’re not… this makes no sense to me right now.” You were so lost in all of this. “Y’know the only reason he makes you do shit like this, whatever the fuck it is this time, is ‘cause if things go south, you’re the one with blood on your hands, not him.”

He answered without hesitation, “I know.”

You wanted to shake some sense into Gator, wanted to scream into the phone and tell him to forget it, forget moving here, forget coming home to you. Except you knew damn well you’d regret that, and he still needed somewhere to go, far from the danger he’s in right now. 

You still needed to be Gator’s safe place, his lighthouse, but the waves are already cresting to a terrifying height, where the only way down is with destruction as it crashes into the rocks on the shore below.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Gator. Can you get out of this? Please? I- I’ll get ya’ a ticket to fly out tomorrow.” You pleaded, desperate to protect him from a downfall that could end in him disappearing, just like his mother. “Gator, you promised me you’d be careful. You pinky promised.”

“I did. And I’m sorry, y’got no idea how sick this entire thing has me. If I leave now, there’s…” He paused, sparing you from the twisted details. “… it’s complicated.”

“Well, make it uncomplicated! Fuckin’ hell, I’ll come out there and deck Roy’s lights out if it helps ya’ get out of this. I need you safe. I need you here, Gator. I need you.” You didn’t mean to bring the last three words to life; it’s true, you did need him, but it felt so selfish to say right now.

This would’ve been the moment Gator would tease you for how feisty you get when you’re angry, talking a big game with little to show, but you meant well. 

Nothing of the sort came out of his mouth, though.

“You still trust me?”

“Barely.” You didn’t mean to spit it out so harshly, or honestly, at all. “M’sorry—“

“It’s fine, ya’ got every right to be mad.” He sounded drained, worn down.

“I’m not mad, Gator. I’m livid that you think putting yourself in danger is okay, I’m fuckin’ scared for you.” You were sobering up quickly from the conversation, but the fear made you nauseous. “Nothin’ I say can change this, huh?”

“It’s not like I ain’t comin’ at all. I am. Just… be patient. Please?”

You wanted to throw a fit, tell him to keep his blood money, but your throat ran dry, scared to hurt him further. So you suppressed how you really felt, kept it to yourself.

“Okay, Gator. Just text me, or call me. Somethin’, anythin’. Even if it’s quick, I just wanna know you’re a—“

Alive. You just wanted to make sure he would still be alive by the end of the week. It felt wrong to say out loud, like you’d jinx his safety before he could even make it home. So you pumped the brakes before the word could slip out.

Gator knew what you were about to say, but he didn’t want to upset you any further. “I will, darlin’. I love you, y’know that? I really do.”

You knew that, but you didn’t like the cost that came along with this love, for either of you.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The well-worn door to your apartment is flung open, slamming against the wall, except the sound is muffled; you learned long ago that Ivy couldn’t bring herself to settle her obnoxious entrances, so you’ve got a landing pad on the wall of thick styrofoam, ready to catch the antique brass doorknob every time she welcomes herself in. 

In your first year of living in this old townhouse, the door slamming open used to startle you. Now, you don’t even flinch. Your poor cat, Lovebug, does, though; his black fur stands on end as he leaps from your lap.

“There she is!” Ivy’s cheery voice echoed through the apartment, kicking her foot back to shut the door. “I brought you iced coffee, with— oh. Oh, honey.”

Perched in the bay window, you curled up in a large quilt, a thrifted one from years ago, with constellations stitched from metallic gold thread into the dark navy fabric. You couldn’t tear your face away from the street below, afraid you’d miss Gator if he finally would show up.

As Ivy shuffles over with the coffee, handing it gingerly to you, she softly informs, “Flor said to take all of the time you need, she’s got the shop covered no problem.”

There was no way you could focus on running your side of the used book and record shop, hanging by a thread as you waited desperately to hear anything from Gator… But it wasn’t like being glued to the window all day, stuck in your spiraling thoughts, was good for your mental health, either.

As you turn to face her, she stifles a gasp; the circles under your eyes have never been darker, while your eyes are completely bloodshot. “When did you last sleep? Are you staying hydrated? Fuck, it’s not the flu that’s been going around, is it?”

You shake your head, unable to speak, too fatigued to form your thoughts into words. 

At first, Ivy’s friendship came on strong, but after some time, you realized you needed a friend like her; loyal, kind, but also tough as nails, and had no problem threatening any dude who tried groping you at the club. She was also a nurse, and was always tending to everyone’s health ailments, trying to save trips to the doctor or hospital.

“C’mon, I should change this,” She feathers her touch along your healing cut, inspecting it. “It’s healing nicely already.”

You nod, on autopilot as she leads you to your bathroom, with medical supplies as a semi-permanent fixture on the counter. You settle yourself onto the closed toilet seat and wait patiently as she disinfects supplies and her hands, immediately rolling gloves over her hands. Lovebug curiously follows the two of you, settled down from the startling noise moments ago.

While she gets started, she asks the same question she’s asked the past week. “Nothing from Gator, I guess?”

You don’t cry when she asks this. You stopped crying over the question two days ago, growing numb to the idea you’d ever hear from him again.

“Nothin’.” You look away as Ivy’s cleaning your wound, heart sinking like a goddamn stone in your chest at the thought of radio silence for a week. “I’ve called and texted, and he hasn’t responded once.”

Ivy knew the situation, at least, as much as you could tell a close friend without sharing intimate details of someone else’s life story. “You’re sure it’s his dad, and not another reas—”

You shake your head, but bump into Ivy’s hand, hissing at the dull ache. “Sorry.” Your cat hops back into your lap, purring affectionately as he makes himself comfortable again.

“Just stay still for a minute longer, you’re doing great, girlie pop.” She murmurs, tugging a laugh out of your weak self. The sound is music to your best friend’s ears, curling the corners of her lips up into a smile. 

“I told ya’, we’re too old for Gen-Z slang.” You’re giggling, and Ivy laughs softly with you. Her shoulders relax as you show you’re not completely numb. Not yet.

Your phone vibrates against the tiled counter, echoing in the bathroom and startling the two of you. Ivy knows you’ve been keeping your phone close, and backs up as you lean forward to grab it. You don’t look at the number, just answer it frantically. “Hello?” Ivy waits in suspense, until she watches your face fall.

“Yeah, Ty, I know what tomorrow is.” You watch Ivy’s face twist in irritation before grabbing your phone.

“Dude, seriously? You know she’s been waiting for an important c— yes, I know, but you could’ve texted her. Or called me. Come on, man.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she squeezes her eyes shut. “Yeah, yeah alright, I’ll tell her.” She hangs up and puts your phone aside before replacing her gloves and tending to you again. “Nothing against Ty, but I swear he’s got rocks for brains.”

You force a laugh, only coming out in a weak huff. “S’okay, he didn’t mean any harm. I bet those rocks in his head are, like, painted ones. Y’know, the ones people paint and leave for others to find? Good intentions, just….”

“Unnecessary at times?”

“You said it, not me.”

Ivy finishes your new wound dressing; you’ve healed enough to get away with only butterfly bandages, so the re-bandaging process has become quicker, thankfully.

“Thanks, Ives.” You force a smile, heading back to the living room, Lovebug cradled in your arms. Ivy nods as she trails behind you. “What did Ty want anyway?”

She grabs her coffee, settling in on your couch with her legs bent pretzel style. “He was just reminding us it’s our turn to cook for family dinner night.”

 “As if you wouldn’t put that in your planner and phone reminders.” You chuckle, picking your coffee up before sitting next to her. Before taking a giant gulp you point out, “He’s the one who forgets his turn, not us.”

Ivy scoffs, hand up in a ‘stop’ pose, “Don’t even get me started, girlie pop.” 

You groan with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help laughing into your words, “Ives, we’re not hip!”

 “Yeah, well, we’re not old enough for senior discounts yet,” She chuckles, relieved to see you feel emotions other than anxiety and dread, “so I’ll say what I want.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

At the end of each month, you and all of the tenants would get together to make dinner as a thank you to Bea— affectionately called Mama Bea by some of you, for her maternal aura— for the affordable rent and unconditional kindness, and to catch up with one another with quality family time. It’s something that would’ve made your stomach churn back home, but here, you look forward to it every time.

The night before you left for North Dakota, you cherished the found family get-together more than usual. This wasn’t the kind of familial love you’d find back home, your childhood home, that is. Forced politeness for the sake of keeping sweet didn’t exist here; each month there was a guarantee for some kind of friendly, playful banter, like the lot of you were lifelong siblings.

The whole group made sure to go around at the end of these routine nights, stating one thing, anything you were thankful for that month. From the tiniest of victories, to the most impactful life milestones, and everything in between, it was shared. Shared without the fear of judgment, and with the most understanding people you’ve been lucky to stumble upon. 

Everyone had shared what they were thankful for this month, except you. It came naturally to your fellow housemates; Miles kicked it off, mentioning how he was grateful for the holiday bonus he was given, and how it helped fund the party before winter break for his class, recalling the joy on all the first graders’ faces when they realized they all got a small gift. He knew some kids wouldn’t have gifts to wake up to this year, so to give them even an ounce of that joy made his entire year.

Flor was thankful she was able to make dinner this month without burning it on everyone. Jinx brought up that she was going home to see her family, and her mother, possibly for the last time due to end stage cancer. She expressed gratitude for one last chance to hug her mom, spend time with her, even if the future seemed dismal with an imminent death on the horizon.

Frankie shared how blessed he felt that he and his partner would be welcoming a little one into the world soon. He was moved out already with them, all set up in the home their family would start a brand new chapter in. He was grateful for Bea and his fellow housemates, promising they’d be visiting with the baby often. You were already working on crocheting a baby blanket for them.

Ivy was grateful for the therapy dogs at the hospital she worked at. Not just for herself, but for the kids stuck in the children’s wing for the holidays. The way their faces lit up, she said, were brighter than the Christmas tree down in Rockefeller plaza.

Ty thanked Ivy for talking to some doctors to finally set up appointments to discuss top surgery. He expressed relief in even just knowing in the near future he’d be so much closer to the gender euphoria he’s always deserved as a trans man.

Bea expressed gratitude for everyone, and for the life she’s been able to live thus far, and the ability to share it with you all. 

“What about you, sunshine?” Ivy asked you, curious. You never got tired of the way they all still called you by the nickname that stuck years ago. No one remembers where it came from, who started it, but it might as well be your legal name by now.

It took a minute, but you answered, “I’m thankful to have a home to come back to. A real home. A real family to be a part of. Thankful for Mama Bea’s generosity and open heart. I know this trip back west is gonna be a shitstorm, but knowing I’ll be coming back to you all is already helping me get through what’s bound to come. So, thanks, y’all.”

While your words were true, you were definitely rambling from the alcohol buzzing in your system. Just enough to make you chatty and giggly.

“That’s sweet, but are you gonna talk more about that guy? You think you’ll see him again?” Jinx prodded, nosy as hell, but she never had a problem showing her desire to be in everyone’s business. 

“Yeah, what’s his name, Gator?” Ty asked before slurping down the remnants of his margarita; the holiday margaritas Flor made every year were to die for, honestly.

Your face crinkled up at the thought of Gator, remembering the way he looked as you saw him across the street, one last time before leaving North Dakota for good. How you had no issue making it crystal clear you hated every fiber of his being.

And yet, your heart fluttered at the mention of his name. You’d be a horrible fucking liar to try denying how much you missed him still.

“Jinx, c’mon, let it rest already,” Bea warned, tilting her glass in hand towards Jinx as she pointed her finger at the younger woman. 

“No, it’s okay… I- I hope I don’t have to run into him,” You paused, thoughts trailing off. Even all this time later he’s easily able to stop your train of thought by his mere existence.

You wish you didn’t miss him.

 “But aren’t you making that gift for him?” Flor piped up, curiosity getting the best of her. Ty nodded, also intrigued.

 “What— that’s just… I didn’t start it, I just figured maybe it’d be a good idea as a peace offering, or some shit.” You did your best to come off disgusted, but your friends knew better. They could read you like a book by now. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, y’all. It’ll be nice to keep busy on the flight too.”

 “Nah… you’re totally hoping you run into him.” Ty smugly stated. 

“Maybe you guys can mend the friendship,” Miles shrugged, hopeful things would work out for the best in your favor. “You’ve got all those memories with him that you constantly bring up, and you had your perfectly valid reasons to cut him off, but maybe it’d bring some closure, y’know?”

You laughed mirthlessly, looking down at the table. “Not sure I need closure from whoever the hell he turned into.”

Ivy gave your arm a supportive squeeze, “He could still be the person you knew underneath it all. Don’t make yourself uncomfortable, but if the opportunity arises, it might be worth trying to bury the hatchet at the very least.”

You nodded, appreciating everyone’s support, but especially Ivy’s. She always knew exactly what to say when you needed to hear it most.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Several days without proper sleep had finally caught up to you, and before you know it, you’re dozing off in the window seat, snuggled up with Lovebug as the winter rain lulls you to sleep. All of that exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber, one that’s deep enough to miss your phone going off in the middle of the night.

“…. Darlin’? I- I gotta keep this quick, but I’m… fuck it, I ain’t okay. I fucked up. I’m sorry for scarin’ you, and I’m sorry I never replied. My phone’s a goner, anyway. So if you see this weird number… I’m at a pay phone— can ya’ believe those still exist? I’m in the middle of fuck-all-nowhere, and this one truck stop has a— fuck. Shit. I gotta go, my ride’s here. I’ll explain everythin’ when I see ya’. I’m comin’ home, if ya’ don’t hate my guts again. If ya’ did, wouldn’t blame y— fuck, m’sorry, gotta leave. I love you.”

By morning, you’re woken up by Lovebug’s usual morning greeting of purring and affectionate headbutts, while a stiffness in your neck radiates from sleeping uncomfortably. The rain’s still heavy, pelting into what’s left of the snow, coating the city in that nasty, winter slush. A sharp pain runs down your neck as you try to sit up while you curse yourself for not falling asleep in your bed. 

Searching your surroundings for your phone, you find it on the floor next to the window. Must’ve fallen outta my hands last night. You reach for it cautiously, not wanting to irritate the pain in your neck further. The screen illuminates, reading the time as 8:43 in the morning, with a battery of 23%. Scrolling through your notifications, you discover a missed call and voicemail from a strange number.

Both hope and dread fill you as you hit play on the voicemail. Gator’s voice comes through the speaker, and you want to cry in relief, but you’re too stunned as you listen to him ramble. He’s all over the place, he doesn’t mention where he is, just that he’s using a pay phone — they still have those? — there’s no way to call him back, and he’s in a hurry. 

“Fuck it, I ain’t okay.” 

You’d do anything to find out where he was, even just a shred of information would give you some relief and put your mind at ease. He sounded so shaken up and defeated. Bile rises in the back of your throat, running through the god-awful scenarios he could have been forced through. 

“I’m comin’ home, if ya’ don’t hate my guts again.”

It kills you that he’s still beating himself up over the past, still worried he fucked up so badly, that you’d never fully forgive him. It still stings, what Gator did, but you’re moving forward, and you wish you could find a way to show him it’s okay if he forgives himself, too.

Hearing his voice for the first time in over a week is something you’d take solace in, but it’s heart wrenching to hear Gator feel so broken. You don’t have a clue what his dad forced him through, the kind of horrors he was made to witness— you know nothing at all, but you do know how strong Gator is, and hearing him that scared was rare.

Racing off the couch to the nearest phone charger, you turn the ringer’s volume up all the way before plugging it in. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to get another call from some random payphone on Gator’s way home.

Subconsciously, your fingers tug at the friendship bracelet he gave you before you flew back home, remembering what he teasingly told you after tying it on your wrist.

“Keep that one safe, yeah? I’m gonna want it back when I come home, so y’can’t steal it.”

Tugging your hoodie sleeve over your wrist, you ball up the fabric up between your fingers from the inside, as if it could shield the bracelet from anticipated damage.

If only it were that simple to shield Gator from any further damage and suffering, too.

[just-your-average-tangerine]

This is reviews and ratings for the narrative/ fiction podcasts I have/ am listening to. This is mostly for me but if you want to use this as a recommendation go for it but be warned I'm not talking about plot or giving a description, there's no mentions of potentially triggering material so do your own research first if that's something your concerned about.

Welcome to Night Vale

-Night Vale owns my entire ass, no one does it better. I've been listening since the beginning and while I do think the quality has dipped a bit in the last few years its still really good. 9/10

The Magnus Archives

-Nearly perfect. Holds up and even improves with subsequent listens. The final season drags a bit imo but worth it in the end. 9/10

Old Gods of Appalachia

-really good story, gives you a lot to keep track of character wise but is written well enough that its not too hard and you can still follow the story if you forget some. 8/10

Moonbase Theta Out

-I can't wait for this to be over. Unfortunately, the storyline has a chokehold on me, and i need to know how it ends. Otherwise, i wouldn't be listening anymore. While there are several pretty good voice actors, there's enough bad ones that it's hard to listen to. Took the idea that characters should be flawed a little too far and made nearly every character completely insufferable. Nearly everytime a character is being given critical and emotional information it cuts away, in what I assume is an attempt to save the audience from listening to the same information over and over again, but instead it deprives the audience that look at how the character reacts to the information, which could go a long way in making them seem more fleshed out, instead you only see them emote in angry outbursts or melodramatic soliloquies (which is not helped by the subpar acting). 2/10

Death By Dying

-pretty funny but I don't think there's been enough episodes to make a educated review or rating

Hello from the Hallowoods

- very good overall. Good story, heartfelt and well written. Percy's story hits close to home for me, which sometimes makes me mad because he comes across as very weak and insecure and it gets on my nerves. But honestly that's less of a problem with the Percy or the writing and more of a problem of him being one of the very very few trans masc characters in existence so its extra disappointing when i find him irritating. Polly owns my ass, I would die for him. 8/10

Where the Stars Fell

-I binge listened up to the current season which I feel wasn't the way to go but it's still pretty enjoyable. 6/10

Midnight Burger

-Very funny. I love the characters and their dynamic and just the idea of a time a space traveling diner, it's beautiful. The beginning of this new arc confused me a bit but it's starting to come together. 7/10

We Fix Space Junk

- Very funny but with the underlying terror of what's going on with automnicon. Looking forward to new episodes. 6/10

The Sheridan Tapes

-started really strong but has been spending too much time on the characters agnst and not enough time actually progressing the story. At this point I'm just looking forward to a conclusion. 4/10

Camp Here and There

- it was pretty good, nothing exceptional but not bad but then I took a single glance at what was going on in the fandom and it was so obnoxious that it immediately ruined it for me. I feel bad lowering the rating due to the fandom but like, yikes. 2/10

SCP Readings

-very entertaining, easy to follow even if you don't have any prior knowledge about scp, which I do not. 7/10

The Amelia Project

-I think I'm to early in this one to make a solid judgement but I enjoy it so far. Venerio haunts me.