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#i turn my fan on at night but when i wake up i am running around trying to get all the heaters on as fast as i can lol
ppjeterka · 29 days
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i have a crazily elaborate au premise i outlined for a fic i was planning on writing for a pairing three fandoms ago and i'm seriously considering adapting it to fit hrpf now
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suuuupernovaaa · 10 months
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Treat | Hobie Brown x f!Reader
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Your innocent image is shattered when Hobie finds your hidden piercing.
Art credit.
Requested by @friedturtlewhispers. Essentially this, with a different piercing.
Mature. Smut. 18+.
The show hasn't been over for two minutes yet when I feel two strong hands on my waist, gripping tight and pulling me backwards. I nearly spill my drink on the already sticky floor of this underground bar as Hobie spins me around, and brings his lips crashing down on to mine.
"Oh!" I let out a muffled gasp of surprise, and feel Hobie's lips turn up into a smile as they still rest against mine. He pulls away, and takes my drink out of my hand. He brings it to his nose, and takes a sniff. "Gin?" He wrinkles his nose, and I open my mouth to defend my choice, but he's already downed it in one gulp.
"Let's get out of here," he says, grabbing my hand and pulling.
"Oh, okay - bye!" I say over my shoulder to the guy I was talking to at the bar - a big fan of the band, who stands with his jaw agape. I find it awkward to mention that I'm sort of, semi, casually but not really casually, dating a band member. It feels like bragging, probably because I'm so proud of it.
We're outside in the cool night air before I know it, and there's a ringing in my ears from the show.
"Did you like it?" Hobie asks as we turn right, heading towards my apartment.
"I always like it," I reply, squeezing his hand. "Why did we leave so fast?"
He leans over, smirking down at me. "I want to be alone with you."
--
As I flop back onto the couch, I hand Hobie the beer he requested. He takes it, and immediately leans forward, setting it on the coffee table. before even taking a drink.
Unable to help myself, I pick it up and place it on the coaster that was only inches away.
Hobie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You can't spend your whole life cleaning up after me."
I shrug. "Sure I can."
He bumps his shoulder into mine, and I lean back into him. Even though I enjoy spending the weekends out with Hobie, lingering in the bars after his shows until the wee hours, it feels so much more my speed to be back home before midnight, relaxed on the couch, just the two of us.
"This is nice," I say with a contented sigh. Hobie's feet are up on the coffee table, and my legs are crossed, one of my knees resting in his lap. He runs his fingers over my bare leg, starting on my shin and up over my knee. The lights are off, and the dull light of a horror film is the only thing lighting the room. I don't really like scary movies, but Hobie enjoys them as background noise.
I lay my head on his shoulder as his hand moves further up, brushing against the fabric of my skirt, and pausing for a moment as if to ask for permission.
We've been seeing each other for a while, enjoying each other's company and getting to know each other, but physically, it hasn't gone all that far. It almost has, a few times, but Hobie's always had some emergency to attend to.
I feel a little foolish... but I'd almost like to be able to call him my boyfriend before we go any further. I know we're adults, but the label means something to me, anyway.
When I don't protest, his fingers snake up under my skirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. My breathing is coming more rapidly now, my heart pounding, and his fingers are almost at my panties now. I'm stiff as a board, tense, waiting for his next move.
"Before we... can I ask you something?" I say.
"Anything, love," he replies, but doesn't move his hand. He's tracing soft circles on my inner thigh, and it's hard to gather my thoughts. I remove my head from his shoulder so I can look at him.
His eyes are dark, his lips parted just slightly, and when I glance down, I see the bulge in his pants. I feel an ache in my lower stomach, and wetness between my thighs.
"Are you, or like, am I your..." The words are going as fast as they're coming, and my mouth is dry.
"You're my girl. My only girl. I'm yours." His words are assertive, sure, and his gaze is locked steadily on mine.
I grab his shirt, pulling him to me for a desperate kiss, so elated with his words and so beyond ready for him to do absolutely anything he wants to me.
Leaning back to lay on the couch, I pull him so that he's on top of me, he settles between my legs while his tongue explores my mouth.
His hand finds its way up my thigh again, and runs underneath the waistband of my underwear. His thumb dips down and brushes softly over my clit, and I gasp.
So does he.
"What's that?" he asks, and a blush settles over my cheeks. He sits up just a little, so he can look me in the eyes. "Is that a... piercing?"
I purse my lips a little and nod. "Yes."
"Fuck me, Y/N." He brings his mouth back to mine with twice the fervor of before, and pulls my panties to the side as he does, running two warm fingers over my clit, down to my entrance, and back. "I can't believe... you have that pierced. Oh, fuck, I'm so hard," he moans into my mouth, and I arch my back off the couch as he uses his fingers to trace circles around my piercing.
"Oh, Hobie," I moan, grasping his back. He sits up suddenly, removing his hand from me, and I collapse back onto the couch in a huff.
He takes his vest and shirt off, and then pulls my panties and skirt down over my legs. There isn't a moment to breath before his face is between my legs, and he takes my clit into his mouth, sucking and biting gently, then dragging his tongue down to my entrance to gather the wetness that is quickly forming there.
"Hobie!" I gasp, holding his shoulders tightly. He doesn't let up. He brings up two fingers, teasing at my entrance as he takes my clit back into his mouth, and pushes them gently inside me. "Oh, God," I moan, pressing down onto his fingers as they fuck me.
He's making the most delicious noises, humming and grunting and moaning as he works, showing me no mercy. I feel absolutely desperate with need, and every time he thrusts his fingers in, I grind down on them.
"Oh, god, oh, shit," I gasp as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. He rolls the piercing around his mouth with expert precision, working delicately and then biting down, keeping me always guessing, driving me to ecstasy.
He pulls away just for a moment to look up at me. "Cum for me," he demands, and when he brings his lips back to my swollen mound, I explode. I scream his name as I do, unashamedly loud in my orgasm, and he continues his assault, giving me wave after wave of pleasure, until I am absolutely exhausted.
He brings his head up to mine, and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"What the fuck, Y/N?" he says with a teasing smile, and kisses me firmly. "That's a hell of a surprise."
I grin shyly back at him. "That's the point."
"You're so... innocent. Your ears aren't even pierced! You almost never swear. You go to church, for christ sake!"
I roll my eyes. "Only on holidays with my parents."
"Still," he replies with a laugh. "What a fuckin' treat."
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st7rnioioss · 3 months
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ is there someone else?
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: angst, happy ending, fluff, kissing, not proofread!!!
a/n: hi guys. sorry if this sucks ass, ive never rlly attempted to write angst before. hope i did it somewhat right LMFAOOO.
i took inspo from @evie-sturns 's empty bed!! make sure to check theirs out if u havent already😉😉
౨ৎ
The last few days had been rough for you. Work had completely consumed all of your time and energy out of you.
Your days consisted of waking up, drinking a redbull, work, redbull, more work, and sleep. This cycle had left you completely ruined Friday night.
Finally, you closed your computer, looking at the clock in your kitchen.
12:46 am. Fuck.
You slowly opened the door into your and Matt’s room, finding him sitting back against the headboard, watching TikTok. You slowly snuggled into bed beside Matt, wrapping an arm around his waist, trying to pull him closer to you. He didn’t budge. You kinda expected him to put his phone down and wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, but no.
“Matt, is everything alright?” you mumbled, looking up at him. He didn’t pay attention to his phone that was playing, but he was avoiding your stare.
“Hm,” was all he said, continuing to mindlessly scroll. This was very unlike Matt, which irritated you. What the fuck had you done to piss him off this much? Normally he wouldn’t keep his hands off of you.
“Alright..” you murmured, almost whispering as you turned your back to him, trying to fall asleep. Of course, you couldn’t. You never went to bed without a “goodnight” or at least a kiss on the forehead. There was silence for God knows how long, until he put his phone down to go to sleep. He turned his back against yours. This kinda pissed you off as well, but you didn’t act on it. Instead, you turned to face his back, running a hand from his shoulders down his back.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snapped, pulling away from your touch.
What the actual fuck? 
“Matt, what the fuck is wrong with you? You’ve been acting strange all day! Just tell me what’s going on. Is it me? Work? Your brothers? Fans?” you tried guessing, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t want to join you for lunch earlier, dinner, even when you asked him if he wanted to go for a walk, which he normally never let down.
You were sitting up, leaning over his body that was in a fetal position. He then sat up in front of you, looking down at you, his face serious.
“You wanna know what’s wrong? You’ve been ignoring me all fucking week. We haven’t exchanged a word, you’ve gone to bed without telling me, and we’re eating dinner at different times now, and you’re always on your goddamn phone! Are you avoiding me?” he yelled with a frown, his lower lip quivering. What? 
“Matt, you’re starting to sound like my mom! I’ve been working my ass off all fucking week, don’t put it all on me! I’m sorry that I’m busy working and can’t be all over you all the time, but I actually have meetings to be in, emails to answer, and reports to write!” you yelled back. Tears were now rolling down your cheeks. You didn’t realize it until now, but practically your whole body was shaking, from both anger, but also an intense amount of anxiety. You’ve only been in a fight with Matt once, and it never got to this point.
There was silence for a bit. Your eyes were darting between his, your breaths quickening.
“Y/n, is there someone else?” he then whispered, his teeth gritted. Tears were brimming in his waterline, ready to roll down his cheeks. You stiffened. Someone else?
“What- Matt, no! No, there is no one else!” you were blinking quickly, not even trying to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes, once again.
“I’ll go sleep on the couch…” he whispered with a slow nod, grabbing his pillow from the bed, and standing up to walk to the couch. Um, what?
You lied in bed for an hour or two. Maybe three. Your mind was still processing what you and Matt had just discussed. Had I really been doing all that unintentionally? Am really such a shitty girlfriend? Then you decided to go down to the living room where Matt was. You just couldn’t agree to go to sleep while being mad at each other. 
Slowly, you listed down the stairs into the living, immediately spotting Matt on the couch, again tucked up in a fetal position.
“Matt? Are you awake?” you whispered, leaning over him to run a hand through his hair. Matt then slowly turned his head, opening his red eyes to look at you.
“Oh, Matt..” you cooed, frowning your brows. He had been crying, hard. Matt’s pillow was basically drenched. You sat down on the couch, cupping his face to pull him into your chest.
Matt immediately broke into sobs, wrapping his arms around your waist, just above your hip.
“I’m so so sorry, Matt. Work has been sucking the energy out of me. I’ve been such a shit girlfriend,” your voice broke a couple of times as you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. Matt was still crying, nuzzling his face into your shirt (which had been his once).
“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have overreacted like that, I know how tough it can be. I’m so sorry, I just- I miss you. I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for a whole week,” he cried, pulling you even closer to him. His fingers were trailing up and down your back, occasionally rubbing circles against your soft skin.
“I know, and that’s my fault. I need to balance work and my life with you. You mean the world to me.” you chuckled slightly through your own tears. “And no, there is no one else. I’m so madly in love with you, you wouldn’t believe it,” you laughed, earning a soft chuckle from Matt as well. 
He raised his head from your embrace, looking up at you with a soft smile.
“I love you, y/n,” he whispered, pulling you closer to him, and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. A small smile played on your lips as he kissed you. You then pulled away, resting a hand on his cheek, gently wiping the, almost dried-out, tears off of his cheeks.
“I love you even more. And I’m sorry for being an ass, again. I swear, I’ll make it up to you this weekend,” you whispered, a giggle leaving your lips as you realized Matt was blushing.
You ended the night cuddled up with Matt on the couch. The both of you were way too tired to go all the way up to your bedroom, but you didn’t mind. At all actually. The tight space, huge soft blanket, Matt’s body pressed up against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Couldn’t get any better. He occasionally left small I love you’s, kisses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder, and the crook of your neck, which made you chuckle tiredly since it tickled.
“Matt stop, I’m way too tired. We can do this all day tomorrow, I promise, just please let me sleep,” you yawned, trying to push him away.
“Fine,” he huffed, leaning closer to you. “We should go out for lunch on Sunday. I’ll pay,” he mumbled, his voice rasped from the crying earlier, his fingers playing with your hair.
“Is that an invite? Or an order?” you giggled, turning your head to face him in the dim light from the moon.
“Take it as I don’t have a choice, hm?”
“Alright then, as long as you pay you’ve got my attention,” you joked, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You’re sure he was blushing because the rest he was saying just came out as stutters and nervous mumbles.
a/n: heloo i hope u liked this🤗 i dont know why i linked the song, i just really like the cover LMFAOOOO
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriiniie @lacysturniolo @ukiyosturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @sturniolho @cupidzsq
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flamingtouya · 2 months
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𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —
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pairing: dabi + f!reader
word count: 4381
cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two
summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.
a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)
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Mar 02  10:07 PM
Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels
You: who is this??
Unknown: So funny
You: u got the wrong number my guy 
Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn? 
You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways
Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out
You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast
You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though
Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong
You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨
Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime
You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit
Mar 03 00:16 AM
You: hey don’t leave now
Mar 03 00:34 AM
Unknown: Had a body to take care of
You: you didn’t wait for me? :(
Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr
You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords
Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways
You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me
Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness 
Mar 03 01:09 AM
Unknown: So wyd
You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?
Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho
You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this
Unknown: Is that a complaint
You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up
Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid 
You: can’t mute unknown numbers
Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc
You: what name should i put it under
Unknown: Dabi 
You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord
Dabi: Stfu
You: good night to you too
Mar 03  07:58 AM
You: fuck
Mar 03 3:56 PM
Dabi: Did you miss me that bad 
Mar 03 4:32 PM
You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely
Mar 03 5:19 PM 
Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society
You: why what do you do
Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it
You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up
Dabi: Hey now  Dabi: Yes  Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle
You: you are everything I am jealous of
Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good 
You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u
Dabi: Omg no way 
Mar 03 5:40 PM
You: no way what
Dabi: No way you said something witty 
Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all
You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul
Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already 
You: your turn
Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me
Dabi: That was a lie 
You: so you’re a liar
Dabi: I suppose I might be
You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. <3
Mar 03 9:12 PM
You: you probably have daddy issues
Mar 03 11:34 PM 
Dabi: Mind your business 
You: so i’m right
Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it
You: that’s a yes then
Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad 
You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then
Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off
You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no
Mar 04 00:02 AM
Dabi: Chill I’m 48
Mar 04 00:06 AM 
You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age
Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho
You: give or take a few days lol
Dabi: When’s your birthday 
You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it
Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older 
You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month
Dabi: Baby 
You: are u flirting with me or insulting me
Dabi: Can’t I be doing both 
Mar 04 06:30 AM
You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels
Mar 04 11:11 AM
You: it’s 11:11 make a wish
Mar 04 2:02 PM
You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule
Mar 04 2:59 PM 
Dabi: Anybody hear sum 
You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping
Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy
You: X
Dabi: What's that mean
You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme
Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔
You: ew
Dabi: I was joking  Dabi: …unless 
You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate
Mar 04 7:10 PM
Dabi: What do you study 
You: are you trying to find out my location
Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it
You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting
Dabi: So you do have bleach 
You: never said i didn’t
Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score
You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u
Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho
You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying
Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking 
You: ...well played
Mar 04 10:09 PM 
Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy 
You: thought you were “freelancing”
Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age
You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀
Dabi: Perhaps I do
You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion 
Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird 
You: that’s not an opinion 
Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population
You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself 
Mar 05 02:26 AM
Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few 
Mar 05 05:16 AM
You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.
You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.
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Mar 0512:03 PM
You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.
You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.
Mar 05 4:16 PM
You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.
You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.
You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.
Mar 06 09:00 AM
You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.
Mar 07 3:15 PM
You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.
Mar 07 8:46 PM
You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.
Mar 08 04:44 AM
Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams
You: I'm killing you You: violently
Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song
You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect
Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are
Dabi was added as a contact.
You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing
Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest
You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw
Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎
You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke
Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything
You: 69
Mar 08 08:21 AM
Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return
You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question
Dabi: No
You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time
Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food
You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring
Dabi: I ask what I ask
You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement
Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent
Mar 08 10:52 AM
You: i want another question
Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead
You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities
Dabi: Yeah
You: …and?
Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?
You: fine
Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing
You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad
Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in
You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard
Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be
You: you're impossible
Mar 08 1:27 PM
You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess
Mar 08 2:23 PM
Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know
You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it
Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out
You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you
Dabi: I love surprises
You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture
Mar 08 7:18 PM
Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec
You: …oh no
Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario
You: alright lay it on me big boy
Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?
You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged
Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person
You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE
Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place
You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all
Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear
You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION
Mar 09 00:08 AM
Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day
Mar 09 08:01 AM
You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.
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Mar 11 6:10 PM
Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho
Mar 11 6:39 PM
Dabi was added as a contact.
You: you're so hot when you're alive 
Mar 11 9:14 PM
Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏
You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery
Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me
You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box  You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth 
Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay 
You: of course 
Dabi: I'm liking this scenario 
Mar 12 01:07 AM 
Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like
Mar 12 01:23 AM
You: i need u 
Dabi: Tell me more
You: to shut your mouth
Dabi: Are you trying to romance me
Mar 12 07:15 AM
You: i'm actually so upset right now  You: can i vent
Mar 12 07:27 AM
Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out
You: you're not empathetic enough for that 
Dabi: How would you know 
You: call it a woman's intuition  You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles
Dabi: Let's hear it girl  Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅
You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week  You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee
Dabi: What type of medication 
You: Ativan You: it's prescription only
Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only" 
You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn
Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this  Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery 
You: ...fukuju pharmacy
Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl 
You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden 
Mar 12 10:02 AM
Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine  Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy  Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?
You: ? ? ?
Mar 12 10:34 AM 
You: did you commit a crime for me  You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast
Dabi: I don't kiss and tell
You: did you follow me home  You: is this how i die
Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep
You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn
Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)
You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though
Dabi: Stfu
Mar 12 1:33 PM
Dabi: Do u like cats
You: yes
Dabi sent an image.
Dabi: Noodle thieving menace 
You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen
Dabi: He’s hella fast 
You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once
Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime 
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Mar 13 00:00 AM
Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP' 
You: i know it's you shithead
Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 
You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl
Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 
You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life
Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 
You: STOP
Unknown: LMAO you thought
Dabi was saved as a contact. 
You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤
Mar 13 04:55 AM
Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics 
Mar 13 06:09 AM
You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought
Dabi: Is it working
You: evidently not
Dabi: Use me in ur thesis  Dabi: I'll be your lab rat
You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone
Dabi: I don't save contacts  Dabi: Especially not yours  Dabi: You mean nothing to me 
You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth
Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list
You: do u delete these chats
Dabi: Always
You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie
Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me  Dabi: Then I'm the softest 
You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest
Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that  Dabi: You've left me speechless 
You: 🥵🥵
Dabi: What's your worst quality  Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass  Dabi: *irritating 
You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable
Dabi: Proving my point so diligently 
You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me
Dabi: I never would've guessed
You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious
Dabi: Still putting up with you 
Mar 13 7:45 PM
Dabi: Wyd 
You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible
Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you 
You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time
Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either 
You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏
Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next
You: it was implied
Mar 13 11:11 PM
Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime  Dabi: No strings attached ofc 
You: i'm down
Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all
You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw
Dabi: I can't tomorrow  Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed
You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good
Dabi: Preem
You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u
Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine
Mar 14 08:49 AM
You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like
Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss 
You: i laughed
Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then  Dabi: Do tattoos scare you
You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out
Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳
You: don't get any ideas  You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now
Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards 
Mar 14 1:42 PM 
Dabi sent an image. 
Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way 
You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe
Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place 
You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u
Dabi: Bet 
You sent an image. 
Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different
You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse
Dabi: We're such a good match
You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe
Dabi: Please shut up
Mar 14 4:16 PM
Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything  Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol 
You: you have such a unique way with words 
Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way 
You: can we make that the first line in our sextape  You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated
Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks  Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule 
You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad 
Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement 
You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head
Dabi: I'm not that important 
Mar 14 9:44 PM
You: so you're just too good to get caught
Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it 
You: thanks for clarifying  You: i feel so safe now 
Dabi: Anytime  Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing 
You: 10 am is crazy  You: u r so vain 
Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔
You: i take it back You: be pretty for me
Mar 15 5:30 AM
You: can't sleep 
Mar 15 7:12 AM
Dabi: How the turntables  Dabi: Are you alright
You: yes  You: it's the good kind of sleepless 
Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all  Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too
You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself 
Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again 
You: should've ghosted me before i got attached
Mar 15 9:54 AM
Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully  
You: you make it so tempting 
Dabi: Getting out of bed then 
You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe
Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth
Mar 15 12:08 PM
Dabi sent a location pin.
Dabi: Is this the place
You: that's the one  You: be there in a few minutes 
Dabi: I'm waiting outside 
Mar 15 12:13 PM
You: omg i think i see u You: im shy
Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me 
You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.
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413 notes · View notes
macfrog · 10 months
Text
company cowboy like me chapter six
lfg i am so happy to finally be back writing!!! here's a new part of cowboy like me to celebrate - you can also catch parts one thru five over on my masterlist 🤍 love u all lmk ur thoughts whose side are we on with the argument? 😏
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel and his hands help you feel better after an argument with your dad
warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! shower fun, handjob, fingering, bit of comeplay, like, allusions to exhibitionism?? not rly tho, dom!joel, unprotected p in v sex (i do not condone it unless it is fictional), praise kink, overstimulation, begging, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, grilled cheese consumption (for all my lactose intolerant babies i got u)
word count: 8.4k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
“Please let me cum, promise I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.” He laughs, some smug, cocky laugh. If you had a sliver of energy and half the feeling in your body, you’d bat his arm. “Don’t want you to be quiet, angel. You wanted to get caught, remember? Get us caught, then. Let ‘em all hear just what you’re up to.” “No,” you moan, head shaking, “don’t wanna get caught. Just w-wanna cum. Please, Joel…”
The birds singing. A car passing by on the street outside. The dull buzz of the shower running, and the gentle humming of the man standing in it. Whichever one wakes you first, you don’t much care. Your eyes have fluttered open to find the bathroom door half-open, the steamed-up shower right ahead of you.
You can see his silhouette moving around. Hands raising to rub shampoo into his hair. Dipping to push soap suds down the trail from his belly button. You’re half-naked in his bed, still sore from your antics from the night before, and he’s winding that coil all over again. Just from showering.
You push yourself off the bed with a groan. Your thighs burn as you move them; between your legs feels just as tender. His t-shirt hangs off you.
You slowly wander over to the bathroom door and pause to listen. It’s one of his country songs he’s always playing in the truck. And this man swears he ain’t a country fan.
Your head leans against the doorframe. One gentle push and he’ll know you’re right here.
The t-shirt comes off in one swift movement, and in you go.
“Mornin’, baby,” he coos as you walk over the threshold. When he peers around the steamed-up glass, he notices your lack of clothing, and mumbles an Oh as you step inside.
“What time does Sarah’s flight get in?” you ask innocently. His eyes are making their way slowly down your figure.
“An–” He clears his throat. “An hour.”
“You got time, then?”
He smirks as you soak yourself under the hot stream of water, and says, “Always got time for you.”
Your hands cup his strong jaw and pull him down to you. He obliges, lips parting to crash against yours. Tongues twisting and curling around one another, hands squeezing and scratching and stroking bodies. His palms find your tits and he squeezes, pulling a moan from your lips.
“So fuckin’ needy,” he murmurs against your lips.
You smile back into the kiss, replying, “It’s all your fault.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” your hand starts travelling south, “got – me – fuck – all ruined.”
Joel’s already hard when your hands take hold of him. Like, fucking hard. So hard you actually look down as you grip him with both hands, awestruck by how quickly he’s turned on. When you look back up, a cocky smile fills his cheeks.
“Get goin’ then. I ain’t got all mornin’.”
“Fuck you.” You drag your hand up his length.
“That’s what I got you for,” he breathes, leaning his head back against the tile, eyes closing.
This is the part you like. Sure, Joel’s hot when he’s being dominant, fucking you senseless, whispering filth in your ear, even just the way his hands grip your body. But this – when he’s under your hand, right where you want him, right where he wants to be. This is it for you.
Watching him unravel at your touch, the way you squeeze him, pull him, take care of him; your words, sweet and smooth as honey in his ear, asking how good it feels, telling him how good he looks, peppering wet kisses down his neck and across his chest; and then, when he’s close, the way he pants and takes hold of your wrist, telling you without speaking exactly how to fuckin’ get him there.
When you feel his hips buck, you sink to your knees and hold the head of his cock on your tongue. He tilts his head to look down at you, mouth agape, hand on the back of your head. You stroke his length a few more times, the tip swirling over your pink lips, before he grunts, releasing all over your tongue, watching as you take every last drop.
“Good girl…” he whispers, over and over until he goes limp. You never take your eyes off of him as you lick your lips and swallow. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
When he comes down from his high, Joel takes your hands and pulls you back up to stand. He lazily bumps his nose against yours and then pulls you in, filling your mouth with his tongue. He groans into the kiss, tangling his hand in your hair, tasting himself on you.
“You know how good you are to me?”
Your face lights up when you look up at him. You could almost say something you think you’d regret afterward. When the wave of bravery washes down the drain with the water from above, you settle for your usual cocky teasing: “I know. You don’t gotta tell me.”
He laughs and turns you gently so your back is to him. He shifts your wet hair out of the way, and then begins to massage your shoulders. His hands drop down your arms, squeezing and rubbing, then back up, feeling their way over your breasts and down your stomach.
“Gonna make you feel nice ‘n better, after last night.”
Your lips fall open, silently begging him not to stop, to keep going further down, to fuck you with his fingers against the cool tile.
You forget he’s a mind reader. He’s already doing it before your thought is done.
Fingers run over your clit, already sensitive and swollen, and you gasp.
“That feel good, darlin’?” he whispers in your ear.
Your head falls back to his shoulder with a moan, and he kisses your neck, sucking softly on the sensitive spots that were between his teeth last night. His fingers rub you gently.
“So pretty for me, baby.”
You can feel your legs starting to give, but his free arm wraps around your waist, holding you up so that, even if you wanted to, you couldn’t collapse.
His fingers dip lower still, parting your lips, running through your folds. He’s so good, you think you might be dreaming. Then he inserts a curled finger and you know for sure, this is no dream.
“Joel…”
You squirm under his touch, and it only pushes him further. A second finger, stretching you out more, pressing up against the soft, spongey insides of your pussy. You grip onto his arm snaked around your waist with one hand, place the other against the tile to steady yourself.
“Doin’ so good, baby, that’s it. Just like that.” His voice is as smooth as whiskey in your ear, the drawl of his accent sending you as far as the fingers hooked inside your cunt.
Your breathing starts to stammer, your stomach tightening with your orgasm fast approaching. Joel inserts a third finger, making you cry out, and your head knocks into his shoulder again. Pleasure sparks between your legs, the weight of you riding on Joel’s hand, fire igniting through every nerve in your body.
“‘attagirl, all over me,” Joel coaches you through it, his other hand forced to let go of your waist to steady you both against the wall as your release doubles you over.
You come back to earth; stars in your vision, feeling the weight of him on your back, protecting you from the spray of water from the shower, chin still dipped over your shoulder.
“We’re good at this,” he whispers, and you give a blissful smile. “One day they’ll make a movie about us.”
You come back to reality with a hearty laugh, turning back around slowly. Joel’s arms snake around your waist and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.
“Maybe one day we could do that ourselves,” you tease.
He gives a smile which means more than it looks. You’re a mind reader, too. He likes that idea. He’s…considering it.
“I gotta go,” Joel says after some time.
You nod.
He follows you out of the shower and hands you the towel he’d sat on the counter for himself, dripping off to the linen closet in the hallway for another while you pat yourself dry. You scoop up his shirt and throw it over yourself, laying back down on his bed to wait for him finishing up getting ready.
Another thing you love doing: watching him. Whether he’s driving, grabbing a beer from the fridge, or just getting dressed like right now, you like to watch him. Study him. Know him better than he knows himself.
He doesn’t typically let you watch him do much – his hands are usually all over you with the precious little time you two get together – and when he clocks you staring over at him as he buckles his belt, he snorts.
“Besotted, ain’tcha?”
He stands at the foot of the bed. You say nothing back. Then he begins crawling up, knees apart to climb over your legs, and crouches over you as you giggle.
His head drops down to give you one last meaningful kiss before you know he has to leave. When you part, his forehead leans against yours.
“Hook, line, and sinker,” he softly says.
You don’t have a reply. At least, not one you want him to hear. Yet.
“Go pick up Sarah. I’ll be gone when you come back.”
He stands, and you take his offered hand to pull yourself up from the bed.
“Don’t have to be. I’ll tell her you wanted to surprise her.”
You shake your head. “I got work later anyways. And y’all deserve some time alone to catch up. I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Okay, darlin’,” he says in a mocking baby tone, pouting his lips. Pulls you in for a quick squeeze. Then turns and wanders off down the hall to the top of the stairs.
“How will you cope without being the center of my attention?” he calls back.
You smile to yourself and watch as his figure disappears. You stand on his carpet, still, silent, until the front door shuts and his truck engine hums in the drive.
Your eyes travel around his room. His unmade bed, one big dip in the middle of the mattress where your bodies had been pressed together, limbs intertwined, sharing breath. The small pile of your clothes Joel had laid out as you dozed, neatly tucked on a dresser, your phone laying on top. A framed photo of him and Sarah on his windowsill that makes your chest tighten when your eyes find it.
You turn away and start getting ready, picking up your clothes one by one. Your panties are missing – not that they’d be much use anyways, the last state you saw them in. It’d be hot to go commando if you thought Joel might find out; less hot when you’re just about to head off on a walk of shame back to your dad’s.
You wander around to Joel’s nightstand and roll the drawer open. Pick up a pair of white boxers and pull them on. As you leave, you throw his tee over your elbow.
He won’t notice it’s gone, right?
----------
You’re perched on your window seat, watching the quiet street below. It’s been two days since you last saw Joel, strolling down his hallway to go pick up Sarah. You’d been working the past couple days anyway, but your mind had been elsewhere.
You and Joel weren’t able to see each other for obvious reasons, but he was always at the end of the phone whenever you were bored and wanted attention. Truthfully, you’d spent every waking minute hanging over your cell, waiting for it to light up with a message or call from him.
You unlock it and scroll through the last few texts you’d exchanged.
Joel: Decorations were a hit. Should be all over Instagram or whatever
You: You’re welcome ;)
Joel: Don’t I get any credit?
You: You can take the credit for blowing my back out afterward. Let me have the decs
Joel: Fair.
You smile, reading back over the messages. You’d been trying not to bother him so much now that Sarah was back, but you’re struggling to find anything to distract your thoughts from him. What he’s up to, where he is, who he’s with…and not even in a jealous way. Just…because you miss him.
That’s the weird part. Missing him.
Sure, for the last two weeks, anytime your hands have been on your body, it’s Joel’s name passing your lips in breathy moans. But missing the sound of his voice? The smell of him?
That’s new. That’s weird.
There’s a knock at your bedroom door.
“Yeah?”
Your dad nudges in, toolbox in hand. “Hey, hon. Just thought I’d have a look at that latch on your window that keeps catchin’.”
“Oh,” you say, shifting from your seat. “Sure. Thanks.”
He sets the toolbox at the end of your bed, and you shift some cushions and blankets to sit beside it. As he’s digging through his tools, he glances up and notices the men’s large t-shirt laying strewn across your pillows.
“New shirt?” he asks.
You look over your shoulder. Fuck.
“Texas Rangers.” Your dad raises his eyebrows, nodding. “Impressed.”
“Yeah, I– I, uh…” You’re scrambling for some excuse, words tripping over one another in the scram to explain. “Got it at a thrift store the other day. It’s nice to sleep in, I guess.”
He hums and then turns, completely oblivious. “Might head over to Joel’s once I’ve done this, since I got the tools out. He has some pipe in his bathroom he reckons is leakin’. You wanna come? See Sarah for a bit?”
“Maybe…” you hum, not really listening. You’re typing a message out to Joel.
You: My dad just totally spotted your shirt on my bed…
Joel: So you’ve got my shirt? I was looking all over for it.
You: Is it really that much of a surprise? Had to say I’d thrifted it
Joel: Offended by the fact you wanted him to believe anyone would throw out a Rangers shirt
You: Well, he believed it, so what does that tell you, cowboy?
Joel: Given what we know your dad’s oblivious to right now, not a lot, kid
You: Speaking of, when can I see you?
Joel: Tough right now with Sarah being home. Sorry baby. Soon as we can, I promise.
You throw yourself back onto your bed with a sigh.
“Boy trouble?” your dad asks.
“Huh?” You sit up straight. What…the fuck?
He chuckles, messing around with the window, his back turned to you. “Awfully big sigh. I know that sigh. Who is he?”
If Joel were in the room right now, he’d be masking his laughter behind a closed fist at the mere sight of your face. You stare at your dad’s back for a decent amount of time, long enough for him to turn back and look at you.
“You hearin’ me?” he asks. “It someone I know? It ain’t your friend Sam from Frank’s, is it? That boy don’t know his hand from his foot at the best ’a times. You can do better than him.”
“It ain’t a boy. And I appreciate the advice, but I’m good, Dad.”
“Speakin’ of advice…” He walks slowly over to the bed, switching out some tools. “I got this supplier whose daughter works in human resources at…uh…some company, downtown. Name escapes me. He was tellin’ me it’s good money, lotta hours…Said she’d be happy to meet with you if you wanted to go in for an interview.”
“I…I’m okay, I think. Thanks, though.”
“Sure? I thought maybe you’d wanna be lookin’ for something a little more…permanent.”
“I will,” you reply, glancing down at your phone. No new messages. “I just…I’m happy at Sal’s right now.”
“Right, right. And Sal’s been real good to you, kiddo.”
“I kinda wanna see what I can get with my degree anyway.”
Your thumbs dance over the keyboard, still hunting for attention from Joel, and searching for the right words to get it. You’re barely even present in the room with your dad when you hear him ask, “Film? You really think there’s gonna be much out there?”
Your head whips up. He’s sauntering back over to the window. Your phone lands with a thud on your bed beside your thigh.
“Uh…I don’t know. ‘s why I wanna look.”
“Hm.”
“Hm?”
He shakes his head, screwing something into your window frame. “Naw, I just…don’t know what you’re gonna find, is all.” He chuckles a little. Kinda chuckle that makes your fists ball.
You watch him through thin eyes, pulling your bottom lip under your teeth. “Well, I got Sal’s to keep me goin’ until I do find somethin’.”
Your dad doesn’t reply. You stare him down until he turns around, notices you, and raises his brows, forehead crinkling.
When he dives back into the toolbox instead of responding, you start to feel heat in your belly.
You speak through your teeth. “Is that…Is it okay?”
“Sure, hon. I ain’t tellin’ you what to do.”
“Well, you ain’t tellin’ me much else, though, so…”
“I’m only thinking,” he lifts his palms, your eyes trace them, “your degree is very specific. And there maybe isn’t a lot of specific work down this way for somethin’ like film. That’s all. I thought HR might be a good move.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s closing over the metal lid.
“Then why’d I go through four years of studying it?”
“Because it interested you. And because you were good at it–”
“So, shouldn’t I be doin’ something with it?”
“–but ultimately, hon, a degree’s just a degree, you understand?”
Your face screws up, lip curled. “Huh?”
“Lotta folks don’t got a degree. Lotta folks get one, and it goes to waste. They spend all that money, all that time…and work part-time in some dead-end job for the rest of their lives. Chasin’ a career that’s never comin’.”
You choke back a laugh, a stunned, confused, livid laugh. Your lips tremble and twist in and out of different shapes, trying to form words that your voice won’t speak.
“You worked damn hard to get that degree. Now, use it. Use it right.”
He slaps the toolbox closed and starts trotting out of your room, and you find your voice.
“Oh, screw you!”
Your dad’s hand hooks around the doorframe and he turns back. “Pardon me?”
“What fuckin’ right do you have to tell me I’m gonna end up in a dead-end job? Ain’t a job a job?”
“Woah, kiddo,” he holds a hand out, “no, no, that’s not what I’m sayin’. Not at all.”
“You’re saying I should give up tryna get a job I actually want, and get a real job, right? That– That film ain’t much of a thing? I worked my ass off for nothin’?”
“No, you worked your ass off for everything, and you deserve to find somethin’ that rewards all your hard work.”
“Oh, what the fuck does that even mean?” You throw your arms up, striding across the room.
He shakes his head with a sigh. “It means – I just want what’s best for you. I was just thinkin’ out loud, honey. That’s all.”
In one sweep, he’s gone. The toolbox rattles down the hall and recedes into background noise. You’re stood in a cloud of rage at your door, breath coming hard and fast out of your nose, staring at the empty hallway before you.
You stalk over to your bed and your thumbs finally figure out what to send to Joel.
You: Are you free to talk real quick??
He’s calling you within thirty seconds.
“What’s up?” his voice speaks before you even open your mouth, and instantly you feel yourself calming.
“Are you eating?”
“Mhm. Grilled cheese.”
You can hear the chewing sounds through the receiver.
“You mind swallowing before you talk?”
“Sorry, darlin’,” he chuckles a little, then clears his throat. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Just…” You sigh. “Fuck…I don’t even know.”
Your head falls into one hand as you pace back and forth.
“I had this argument with my dad; he’s goin’ on about careers and jobs and using my degree – but to do somethin’ I don’t wanna do. Then, he’s makin’ out like I’ll never find a job in film, or in anything I want. And he said that– He basically said that I’ll be in a dead-end job forever, ‘less I go work in human resources.”
Joel’s quiet for a few seconds until he realizes you’re done. “’sec, baby, I got a mouthful of grilled cheese over here.”
You roll your eyes and, after a gulp, his voice floats back through your phone.
“He wants you to– Human resources, I hear that right?”
“Yup. He says it’s a good place to be, apparently.”
“Your dad, the contractor?”
You throw your arm up in the air again. “Thank you!”
Joel and his laughter cut you short before you start another rant.
“Alright, alright, first of all…you already got a job, and it’s a good, steady job; you like it, you’re happy enough there, right?”
“Mhm,” you agree.
“Mhm. So that’s not an issue. Second, you’re twenty-three. That’s still young, darlin’. You got your whole life to try and find somethin’ you really like. Hell, I didn’t figure it out until I had Sarah. You got time. Don’t worry about it.
“And third: who gives a fuck what your dad thinks? If you’re happy, what’s it matter what him or anyone else says?”
You nod, sitting down on your bed. Your eyes are starting to well.
“Hm?” Joel beckons.
“Yeah,” you squeak.
“Don’t you worry that pretty little mind, baby. It was just an argument. He wants what’s best for you, ‘n if I know him half as well as I do, he just got his words a little jumbled up.”
“I’m still fuckin’ mad at him, though,” you mumble.
Joel laughs. “Yeah. ‘n I reckon you’re allowed to be, for a little bit.”
“Thanks. Sorry for interruptin’ you ‘n your grilled cheese.”
“’s alright. I gotta make you one of these next time you’re over here, I’m a master at ‘em. Sarah’s favorite.”
You lay back on your bed, giggling. “I’m gonna hold you to that, y’know.”
“Oh, I know, kid. Hey, I was actually thinking of dropping by tomorrow mornin’, got some papers your dad wants to take a look at. Figured I’d catch ‘im before he goes off to work.”
You feel your heart swell just at the thought of him being in front of you, actually in person, standing right there. Cotton-covered chest to be touched, worked hands to be held, rough but gentle lips to be kissed.
Hard cock to be – never mind.
“Yeah?” you say, coolly, trying not to let him in on the butterflies swirling around your stomach.
“Yep. Better be awake. I’ll want my t-shirt back.”
“Setting my alarm as we speak.”
----------
You’re in the kitchen making breakfast when you hear the front door open, and an all too familiar Texas drawl.
“Anybody home?”
You lean back from the counter and stare down the hallway toward the door, which he closes and turns to face you.
“Hello, darlin’.”
“Hi,” you mutter, smiling.
“Dad in?”
You nod. “Upstairs. Getting ready.”
His fingers tug on your t-shirt sleeve. His t-shirt sleeve.
“Nice shirt.”
You give a bashful smile, but he’s grinning. The fucker loves seeing you in his clothes as much as you love wearing them. He doesn’t care.
Joel sets his papers on the countertop and runs a hand through your hair, sweeping it out of your face. You lean into his touch by instinct, then catch yourself, and move away, but Joel stays where he is.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
“Mhm. Want some cereal?”
He smiles, shaking his head, then lowers his chin and softly presses his lips to yours.
Your hands drop the box like it’s scorching hot, and link around his neck. He pushes against you, pinning you to the counter.
If it weren’t for the thudding of your dad’s footsteps down the stairs right then, you’d probably ask Joel to fuck you right here and now in your kitchen. You’re that needy.
“Hey, partner,” your dad calls when he notices Joel, now standing a good four feet away from you, papers back in his fist.
You pour some milk in the bowl and lean back against the island, cereal in hand.
“Brought that paperwork.” Joel lifts his fist, and your dad nods gratefully.
“Hey,” your dad says, turning to you and knocking your shoulder with his index finger. “Here’s the number of that guy’s daughter I was talkin’ about…”
You take a deep breath, studying the card in his hand, the name Vanessa Hart printed below some logo. Joel notices your expression when your dad holds it out between two fingers. He knows y’all fought – though he’s not meant to – but he doesn’t know you two haven’t spoken since. You ate dinner in your room alone last night.
The look in your eye catches him up just fine.
“What’s this?” Joel asks, returning the papers to the counter behind you and taking the business card from your dad’s hand. He tosses it over before passing to you. You wordlessly take it, sliding your bowl alongside his paperwork.
“She’s been thinkin’ about work. Lookin’ around for somethin’ a little more…challenging, than retail anyway. Right?”
You raise your eyebrows. “Right.”
Joel looks at you intently. Knowingly. “Thought you wanted to be a journalist, or something? Film…? No?”
You glance up at him. “I, um…”
“This is maybe somethin’ a little more realistic, y’know.” Your dad shifts from foot to foot, almost awkwardly.
“She got a degree in film,” Joel mutters, almost leaning into you to make you answer. Your eyes travel along to his shoulder. “You like film, right?”
“I like film. Yeah. It was good.”
“So, you don’t wanna do somethin’ with that?”
Your shoulders tense as you look up at him, trying to answer him honestly and at the same time, stop another heated discussion from happening between you and your dad, who then initiates that discussion himself by piping up.
“What’s Sarah doin’, again, Joel?”
You wince, knowing what’s about to happen.
“Sports Science.” Joel’s voice feels dangerous. He’s still staring at you. Vanessa’s card is beginning to tremble in your hands as you flip it over and over.
“See? Now, that, I would understand. That’s a great degree. Not that yours isn’t,” your dad shoots you a look as he’s packing his lunch into his bag, “just that, with Sports Science, I mean…she could do lotsa stuff.”
“I could do lots with film, too, Dad.” You try to mask the anger through your teeth.
“Like what?”
Joel sighs under his breath. Your eyes dart across his. You take a deep breath, steady yourself.
“Like…journalism, or production, or promotion. Lots of behind-the-scenes stuff.”
“I’m just tryna look out for you, kiddo, just tryna be realistic. Like I said last night, there aren’t so many opportunities in that sorta stuff down here. Fine, up in New York, but in Austin? Nah.”
“Maybe you just gotta move back to New York. I’ll come with ya,” Joel says, shrugging, with an expression that elicits a laugh from you. He looks relieved to see you smile.
Your dad clears his throat and takes a step closer to you. Your smile fades as quickly as it appeared.
“I just want what’s best for you. The arts…ain’t really a steady job. Somethin’ like Sports Science, see, now, that’s safe. That’s a good choice.”
“A good choice,” you echo, your face flushing. “So, mine wasn’t a good choice?”
“No, it’s just that–”
“Why are we havin’ this same conversation again, Dad?” You throw the card behind you on the counter. “I said I’d do my own thing, in my own time, and you come up with even more to shove in my damn face. You can’t just leave it? Not even for one day?”
“Aw, c’mon, hon, film? Tell me what you found, lookin’ for jobs in film. Go on.”
Joel’s head cocks and he holds a hand out. “Alright, that’s enough.”
“No, tell me. I’m seriously askin’. What did you find? ‘cause I’ve been lookin’, kiddo–”
You scoff. “Oh, you’ve been looking.”
“Yes, I have, which seems to be a damn sight more ‘n you’ve done, and there ain’t nothin’. Now, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I thought I was doin’ a good thing. Thought you’d appreciate me helpin’ out.”
“Sure. I appreciate you steppin’ foot where you ain’t wanted. And then insulting me while you’re at it.”
Your dad sighs and lifts his arms, bringing them down onto his thighs with a clap. Then he picks his bag up, slings it over his shoulder, and turns back to you.
“I just wanted to help. I’m gone, alright? Joel, thanks for those, I’ll take a look when I’m home.”
Without another word, he strides down the hall and heads out the front door.
Joel’s hand immediately wraps around your arm.
“Hey,” he says when you turn away, tears forming. “Woah, hey. It’s alright.”
He pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head, and you bury your face into his shirt, groaning with rage. He rubs the back of your head and hushes you as you weep into his chest.
He pulls away, cupping your chin and pushing the hair out of your face. You’re still bubbling away, Joel’s thumbs wiping away tears hot with anger from your cheeks.
“I’m not crying ‘cause I’m upset,” you sniff, and he nods, softly caressing your face. “I’m crying ‘cause I’m fuckin’ angry.”
“I know, baby,” he fusses. “He’s bein’ an ass, no doubt about that.”
“I told you.” You ball your fists and lightly bump them against his strong chest. “Fuckin’ dick.”
“Fuckin’ dick,” Joel agrees, and you laugh. “Tell me what to do to make you feel better.”
You lean back, Joel’s hand locked around yours to stop you from falling. A dark thought crosses your mind, and you do your best not to let it show through your eyes. Joel seems oblivious when he reels you in and your hands come to rest on his pecs.
“I dunno,” you mumble, eyes stuck on the fabric of his shirt.
“Must be somethin’. What do you want me to do?”
“Just…stick around for a bit? Keep me company.”
“Company, huh? What’s that entail?”
“We could…watch a movie?” Your fingers flirt with the collar of his open shirt. “…could…talk…?”
Joel studies you as you slowly peel the button-up from his shoulders, letting it rest on his biceps.
“Darlin’,” he murmurs, realizing where you’re at, “I got stuff I should be doin’ today.”
“I know. Just…make me feel better first.”
He sighs, looking at you from beneath his brows. His shirt is hanging from his elbows, his palms planted firmly against your waist. His hands are squeezing you just enough to encourage you to keep going.
“Won’t be long. Promise. You can have your shirt back, after it.”
You angle your jaw and smile sweetly at him, and he lowers his to meet you halfway. Your breath hot against his lips, you whisper, “’s not like either of us are gonna last longer than five minutes, anyway,” and he closes the space between you.
When your lips connect, Joel pushes off the counter and begins backing you toward the couch.
“I love,” you breathe into the kiss, “when you do that.”
“Do what?” he mutters back, lifting the hem of your top.
You fall back onto the couch and Joel follows.
“Give in to me.”
He pulls back, eyes skimming across your half-naked body, t-shirt ruffled up to the bottom of your bare breasts.
“That’s all I do, baby.”
You open your legs beneath him and his hips slot between yours, hardening jeans rubbing against your sleep shorts. His tongue leaves wet marks down your neck and across your collarbone, hands creeping further up your naked torso.
When you buck your hips, Joel understands, and takes the waist of your shorts in tight fists, pulling them off your legs in one movement. His hand comes down to cup your sex and shift your underwear aside. He’s moving without thinking; it’s instinct by this point. He knows exactly what to do to get you where he wants you.
His fingers move around your folds, dancing in and out of your entrance, rubbing your clit. It’s not enough. It’s never fucking enough. You whine, and he listens again, slipping two fingers inside your wet cunt.
Your back arches, chest rising to meet his. A sigh of relief passes your lips, finally feeling his body on – and in – yours again.
“We– I don’t wanna– fucking hell, Joel– I can’t wait this long for you,” you whimper, as he dips his jaw to suck a bruise into your neck.
“Hm?”
“Too – fucking – long. I need you – all the fuckin’ time.”
He’s humming against your hot skin. Your fingers are knotting in his hair, dark brown flecked with streaks of gray tangled around your knuckles.
His fingers burrow deeper, stretching your wet pussy out just right. You clench around him.
“Need you,” you breathe again, “all the time.”
“You got me, pretty girl,” Joel coos, lips now dancing across yours. “I’m here now.”
Your foreheads lock like they always do, Joel’s eyes trained on yours like they always are. He fucking loves watching you, loves the way your eyes glaze over and you submit to whatever he wants to do to you. I started it, and I know how to finish it.
His thumb begins to rub your clit, pad drawing circles around and round. Your hips lift again in response, and you feel a smirk pull on Joel’s lips. You’re writhing under his touch, the entire room filling with filthy moans of his name and of yours, tangling together in the air and knotting as tight as the pressure building in your stomach.
You reach down and begin to unbuckle his belt, hands weaving around Joel’s wrist to gain access to his jeans. Your fingers graze the rough teeth of his zipper when you hear something outside.
The sound of a car door slamming.
Your lips freeze against Joel’s. His hand stops dead against your core.
“Was that–?”
The front door bursts open and the hallway fills with the early morning light.
Joel heaves himself off of you, scarpering to the other side of the room as you straighten up, slam your sensitive legs closed and kick your shorts under the couch. Your tee is long enough to cover your thighs, only if you stay seated.
Your dad rounds the corner to the room just as you both assume position.
“Joel still around? His truck’s– Oh, hey, bud. What the hell you still doin’ here?”
Joel clears his throat. “She, uh– She said somethin’ was up with the TV. Bad signal or somethin’, right?”
“Right.” You nod almost furiously.
Your dad blinks. Looks from you, to Joel, to the TV behind him. Which is switched off.
You toe the line between still mad at your dad, and wanting to appear totally innocent. “Joel was just having a look. He, uh…switched it off.”
“Waitin’ for it to reboot.” Joel sways back to hold a steady – slick-covered – hand to the TV set. You wince as he notices your gleaming wet coating his fingers, unreadable expression on his face, and calmly holds them behind his back.
“That so?” your dad says, pouting his lips. “I didn’t notice anything last night.”
Joel doesn’t reply, instead choosing to let the moment pass in awkward silence until your dad changes the subject. Joel knows him better than most, and it works in the end, but you wish he’d just fucking say something to take your mind off of the hand he’s currently hiding behind his back and your shorts disturbing the dust under the couch.
“Left my hardhat,” your dad says, almost flatly. “You seen it, kiddo?”
You shake your head. “Nope.”
“You wanna help me look?”
Right now? With no pants on? And your best friend stood less than six feet away? You know what, I’m good, Dad.
“Not really.”
He sighs and shakes his head to Joel, a Can you believe her?
Joel sputters out a forced chuckle, which he cuts short when he notices your sharp glare in his direction.
When your dad disappears upstairs, you fish your shorts out and throw them on.
“That,” Joel leans into you, motioning to where your dad was just standing, “was too damn close, you hear?”
“How was I supposed to know he’d come back?” you hiss.
“If we’re–” another flappy hand movement between the two of you, “y’know, we gotta be on alert for any–”
“We–” you mimic his gesture, “thought we had an empty house. If he walks in on somethin’, then that’s–”
“Don’t tell me that’s on him, kid.” Joel tilts his head, inviting you to finish your sentence with something more sensible. Before you can answer, your dad calls out.
“Got it!”
His boots thud back down the stairs.
You and Joel spring back to your positions, an unassuming two meters of carpet separating you both. Your dad stands at the opposite end of the coffee table, holding his hardhat up like it’s a trophy.
“Alright,” you clap your hands, “see ya, then.”
You brush past him toward the kitchen, feigning grabbing a drink. In your wake, you hear him mumble something to Joel about you not forgiving him just yet. Joel doesn’t laugh.
Eventually, he doddles off to the door, and Joel slowly follows. You hear the click of the door handle, and the hallway floods with light again, tile floor painted with Joel’s silhouette. When the sound of the engine trudges off into the distance, the door slams shut, and his figure materializes beside you once again.
You’re holding a bottle of water against your lips. Not drinking. Joel takes the bottle and sets it down on the counter.
He doesn’t speak. Barely even looks at you. Just takes your waist and hoists you up onto the kitchen counter. It’s cold under your bare thighs, but he lifts your knees and tugs at the waistband of your shorts, slipping them off for the second time in, what, ten minutes?
You sit still and watch him, stood between your legs, looking you up and down. His gaze falls to his still soaked fingers, and with a blank expression, like it’s as normal as passing you the sauce over dinner, he lifts his hand.
“Wanna clean up your mess for me?”
He presses the pads of his fingers to your bottom lip. Asks you without words to part them.
Your mouth falls open, not because you tell it to, but because his words pour a fog over your entire body that dumbs you senseless. That same intoxicating drawl, the way his head tilts with every perfectly innocent question laced with just the right amount of filth to have you do whatever the fuck he tells you.
He pushes his fingers into your mouth, resting them on your tongue.
“Now, pretty girl. Put that mouth to good use.”
“Joel–” you mumble into his knuckles, but he shushes you.
“Clean. Them.”
In a fluttering haze, you close your mouth around his thick fingers and suck, tongue slipping over them, under, between. Joel watches almost dangerously, like a wild animal watching its prey. He’s focused entirely on your wet lips, the way they’re bobbing up and down over his knuckles.
His fingers are sweet, coated in your thick arousal, and when you loosen your jaw, he pushes them in further. Almost chokes you with the way he forces them back. His eyes are dark, clouded over by the way your pretty little mouth looks. The way it feels, choking and spitting all over him.
When your eyes close over, his free hand comes up to cup the back of your head.
“Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter back open; light seeps into your vision and chases everything but the man between your legs out of focus.
You can’t taste yourself on him anymore. He tastes like Joel again. But he doesn’t stop. His fingers hit the back of your throat, and he only withdraws them when you gag.
He slips out, soaked in your saliva, and his wet hand falls back to place on your thigh.
You’re breathing heavily, drool dripping from your lips, but you know for a fucking fact if you move to wipe it, he’ll stop you.
His grip on the back of your neck tightens suddenly.
“You wanna act like a little whore? You get treated like one.”
His hand moves to his waistband and he undoes his own belt, batting away your fingers when you try to help.
He lets you link your arms over his shoulders as he messily unzips his jeans, tugging them down only a little. His rough hand grabs your knee and hooks it over his elbow, opening your legs wide for him.
“J…”
“Shut up.”
Now’s not the time for talking. He’s got a glassy expression in his eye that you don’t recognize. He doesn’t want to fucking talk. He wants you to make him cum.
“Wanted me to fuck you on your dad’s couch, huh? Wanted to make a mess in his livin’ room?”
“Mhm,” you whine, and he lifts your ass up to bring a hand down on it. Shut up.
“’n what if he’d walked in a few minutes later than he did? Saw the pair of us? That what you want?”
You bite your lip and look at him under hooded lids; answer enough. Nah, you didn’t want your dad to see you guys. But, fuck, you liked the thought of being caught.
“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he’s murmuring, lining up to your cunt, pre-cum soaking the reddened tip of his cock. You’re staring at it, mesmerized, mind totally blanked by it.
“Look at you,” he whispers roughly, “drunk on it, aren’t you darlin’? You want it inside you?”
You nod, but it doesn’t matter. The slightest movement of your head and he’s pushing inside you, stretching your tight hole around the thick head of his cock.
Joel groans and his head falls back, eyes on the ceiling. He makes it halfway in before he’s pulling back again.
“Fuck,” you whisper.
“Shut – the fuck – up,” he replies, hips pushing forward into yours again.
You bite back a whine as he pushes further and further, filling you up, pain and pleasure and fucking bliss rippling through you, driven by Joel.
He wastes no time letting you adjust, no long, slow strokes. No tender kisses or fingers guiding his dick in. He picks up a dangerous pace from the outset, hips snapping into yours, bouncing you against the kitchen counter.
This is what this is, isn’t it? This whole thing between you guys. You have needs; Joel has needs. You’re just both coincidentally very good at helping the other meet their needs. What’s wrong with that, right?
Your head starts to swim with the feeling of Joel’s cock spearing you, the image of your kitchen floating in and out of focus, the thought of being one doorway away from being caught. You imagine Marcia in her backyard, almost in plain view of you two right now, seeing you propped up on the counter with your dad’s best friend between your legs, fucking the hell out of you.
And then your eyes find Joel again, beads of sweat at his forehead, cheeks flushed. He meets your lazy gaze and his hand takes your jaw, thumb and finger on each side.
“Good?” he asks, breathless, teeth gritted.
You nod.
Then Joel nods. “Good.” His eyes close over and he fucks you even harder onto his length, hurting so good every time your bodies connect.
The heat is stifling, not from the Texan summer, but from the two of you – sweating, panting, fucking off one another, bodies slipping against and sticking. The air fills thick with your stifled moans, Joel’s bitten grunts, the slapping of skin, your wet mixing with his.
You can’t take it anymore. Your head lulls back with a loud, long moan. Joel knows that moan.
“Think I should let you cum?” he asks. “You think you deserve it?”
“Fuck – please – Joel,” you’re panting, and he spanks your ass again. It doubles you over; your head collapses against his shoulder.
“Mm,” he hums, contemplating. “Dunno if you do, babygirl.”
“L-let me cum,” you plead, tears falling from your eyes, electricity whirling around your core. Your head rolls around on his strong shoulder. “’m so close.”
“Know you are, darlin’. ‘s too easy to do this to you,” Joel pants, breath jerking each time his hips do. “Get so wound up for me, every damn time.”
“Joel,” you’re begging now, unable to loosen your grip on his shoulders. “Fucking – please.”
“Come over for five minutes and you can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”
You whimper in response, the feeling between your legs turning to tightly-wound pain. Your hands have come down to hold onto the edge of the counter, marble cutting into your damp skin under your grip.
“Want to…Want…”
“Tell me, baby. Talk.”
“Want to cum, Joel,” you pine, eyes screwing shut.
“I’m gonna let you, pretty girl. You don’t gotta worry about that. Just gotta ask nicely, huh?”
“Fuck,” you whisper, stars and tears clearing from your vision to reveal him once more. You don’t have the fucking energy to beg him anymore. Not like this. “Please, Joel.”
“Nicer.”
“Please let me cum, promise I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.”
He laughs, some smug, cocky laugh. If you had a sliver of energy and half the feeling in your body, you’d bat his arm.
“Don’t want you to be quiet, angel. You wanted to get caught, remember? Get us caught, then. Let ‘em all hear just what you’re up to.”
“No,” you moan, head shaking, “don’t wanna get caught. Just w-wanna cum. Please, Joel…”
You shake your head, pathetic beg painted all over your face. Joel’s expression falters, softens, only for a nanosecond, but you know him well enough to notice it. Something in his exterior breaks, something cracks.
“Then why didn’t you fuckin’ say so?” he coos. His arms wrap around you – finally – holding you up against his torso, his lips pressed to your ear. “Come on, darlin’, you can let go.”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before it happens. Your orgasm floods over you, pulsing from your soaking pussy up and across your stomach, lighting your shoulders and tightening your grip on Joel. You bite into his shoulder, muffling a sob as your walls contract, coil snaps, tension relieves.
You fucking hurt. All over. You don’t even feel him pull out, don’t realize he’s gone until he’s pumping cum all over your stomach, jacking himself to the sound of you coming undone. It’s only when you come around and feel the hot wet rolling down your tummy that you notice.
Joel’s breathing is labored. His dark tee has sweat patches under the arms, along his chest. You can feel it on his back.
You lean against him for what feels like hours, legs either side of him, his soft dick on your stomach, cum seeping into your panties. He lets you, just holds you tight and gently sways, listening to your breath slowly steadying, feeling your body stop shaking.
His voice is nothing but vibrations under your cheek, resting safely on his chest. Your ears are still ringing too loud to actually hear the words he says.
When you don’t reply, Joel’s hands cup your cheeks and lift your head to face him. You read the words on his lips.
“Need to know you’re okay before I go.”
“I’m okay,” you mumble.
“Can you walk?”
Your eyes roll back by themselves as he takes a step back, one hand around yours, the other braced in case you fall. You slip off the counter shakily, and, with as much effort as it’d probably take to go for a hike right now in the sun, you stand straight.
“I can take it,” you tell him.
Joel takes a deep breath. “Know you can, baby. Did so well for me.” He tugs his tee down over your stomach to cover the mess he’s made. “You want help cleaning up?”
You give one lazy shake of your head, almost entirely leaning on your shoulder. “I’m gonna head for a shower anyways.”
He takes your shorts and kneels, pulling them back over your legs one by one. You’re bracing yourself on his shoulders, and he stands as he settles them on your waist.
Joel gives your hand a gentle pull and leads you down the hallway. You walk with him, knees weak, to the front door. Joel holds it open and you let go of his fingers to step into the burning sun, hand coming up to shield your eyes. The breath of fresh air wakes you up from your state a little.
“Bright one,” you murmur, as his shoulder comes to meet yours.
“Oh, mornin’, Joel,” Hank calls from the sidewalk as he hobbles by, newspaper under his arm. He sings your name and you nod back in greeting. “You’re both up ‘n about early.”
“Broken TV,” Joel waves back, turning to look at you, “and a few other things needed fixin’.”
Hank nods and keeps walking. When he rounds the corner toward his own house, you glance back at Joel.
“What?” you ask.
“Still wearin’ my shirt.”
“You want it back now? Here ‘n now?”
“If you’re offering a striptease, baby, I’ll take it. Out here or inside, I don’t mind.”
You slap his arm and turn back to head inside. “I’ve had enough of you today.”
“You call me anytime that TV starts playin’ up, darlin’,” he calls over his shoulder.
You blindly throw your middle finger up over your shoulder in response, and feel his strong fingers wrap around your wrist. He tugs you back, and you swirl around to meet his stoic gaze.
“Day or night,” he tells you, “you call me.”
He walks off to his truck.
----------
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sakasinterlude · 2 months
Text
passionfruit | ruben dias x fem!reader
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its summer vacation and you and ruben share some quality time on a yacht.
nsfw 18+, contains smut, ends with fluff!
a/n: i wrote this a while ago and decided it deserved to be read by someone other than me, so enjoy. definitely not a city fan, but ruben is just so sexy.
“I think this is my favourite place.”
“You love Greece that much?”
“No, I meant in your arms.” You give Ruben a playful shove of the shoulder as the soft bounces of the waves below keep you distracted.
It was another warm afternoon on what felt like a never-ending vacation with your boyfriend Ruben. Everyday consisted of beautiful views, delicious meals, and the warm company of your partner. The mornings blended into nights, as you had lost track of the days you had spent away from home, using blissful orgasms as the only unit of measurements. Twelve, not that you were complaining.
You reach for the fresh fruit cut up in a small bowl to the right. You take a big bite, savouring the sweet juice of the mango, a soft hum leaves your lips.
“Here.” Offering the other half to Ruben whose eyes stay closed lying beside you, still covered by his sunglasses. He absent-mindedly opens his mouth accepting your offering, not without playfully nipping at the tips of your fingers.
“So sweet.” He mummers, pulling your leg closer across his body, drawing random shapes on the hamstring of your leg. You two had been intertwined like this for so long you almost forget where he begins and you start, with your hand wandering from his wet locks to broad strong shoulders to his tan waist.
You prop yourself up on your elbow so now you are on your side facing Ruben, leg still over his waist.
“What will we do when we go home?” You ask into the wind, letting the Mediterranean air roam through your damp hair, lightly stroking his jaw with your free hand.
“What are you talking about? This is home.”
A cheeky smirk adorns his lips as his arms wrap tighter around your waist. You can just barely see the crinkles on the corner of his eyes, assumed by his own joke.
“Don’t stress minha querida, (my dear) I just want to enjoy the last moments of peace we have before everything gets crazy again.” You know all too well the hectic schedule of your shared life back in Manchester. A mixture of stolen kisses in the morning as you depart for work well before he even wakes up, catching up over lunch where your eyes dart between his facetime call and your latest work assignment, to late night baths together where you both are too exhausted to speak, just soft hands running over the others limbs. It was difficult to find any uninterrupted time together back home.
“Your right.” You sigh bringing you bodies impossibly close.
“I am. Now it’s been way too long since I’ve made you cum.” With that his quick fingers are already pulling at your bikini strings, making their way between your legs.
If Ruben was anything as a lover, it was a tease. He loved having you on a string, bringing you oh so close to the edge, just to yank you right back with a devious smirk. And of course, despite all the love making done this trip he still never got sick of this cat and mouse game.
His mouth plays connect the dots, finding all the little nips and love marks he made previously. The sensation gives you chills in the best way, you swear you can feel it in your toes. His hands stay busy not even entering you yet, just playing with the wetness surrounding your lower lips.
“So needy aren’t you? Just dying for my fingers I’m sure.” The feeling is so sweet you can barely speak just letting out the softest yes in reply.
“Here, its your turn for a taste.” His face is so close to yours as he removes his fingers to run them along your bottom lip. With two soft taps your mouth is open, accepting his two fingers covered in a sinful mix of both of your cum, and the fruit from earlier that day.
“You love that shit, huh gato?” (sexy)Ruben was also cocky, very cocky. He knew exactly what buttons to push, using the sweet nickname that was reserved only for the most intimate moments. You close your eyes and hum, relishing in his slender fingers, sliding digit by digit into your mouth.
With little hesitation, Ruben removes his fingers sharply, making their way down under. He curls in his finger, just one at first, before rolling it out slowly, so you can feel every curve, intentionally done to manifest the most pleasure. Again, repeatedly with an additional finger, in and out, sinfully, painfully good. You hid your face within his shoulder.
“C’mon, let me see that face.” He pushes even deeper, how you are not even sure. “Let me hear that sweet voice.”
You let out a loud and long moan into the open air around you. You and Ruben often engage in shameless sex, not caring for the cries and whines created, just the pure pleasure produced. Memories of rushed moments in the bathroom of dinners, handsy uber rides, and banging neighbors in hotel rooms bring a smile to your face. This was probably the most ideal setting for the two of you to be wrapped up with each other, not a soul as far as the eye can see, nothing but endless blue water meeting endless blue skies.
Your high creeps up quickly as all you can think you is “how can he make me feel this good?”. The want and need to finish forces your legs shut, the sensation is just so strong.
Ruben’s strength quickly forces your legs flat and flush with the flimsy mattress below you, spreading your legs wide.
“I’m close, really close.” You barely have the power to say the words. Ruben removes his fingers, not for long as he moves to play with your clit. Your mouth gapes open, looking between his messy fingers at work, and his big smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He places all four fingers over your bud, rubbing back and forth easily thanks to your cum. You grab at his tan veiny forearm, not to stop him, just to feel his sharp movements, wrapping yourself around his arm. You can’t take it anymore, tossing your head back, arching your back, finally cumming.
“Yes, yes, yes!” He chants right up against your ear, his words muffled and merged together into incoherent nonsense. You whine and cry, twist and curl, all while Rubens hands stay overstimulating you completely.
“Good girl, yes gato, your good, so so good.” His hand now out from your legs and  wrapped around your head, pushing your damp hair away from your face, pressing kisses and sweet words into your skin.
You look up at his soft brown eyes, they have a sparkle to them almost, maybe from the sex, maybe from the sun, but regardless you can’t look away, only pulling your face close to his. You bring your nose right up to his, maintaining eye contact, rubbing yours against his, a silent thank you of sorts. You two had many non-verbal forms of communicating, this being one of them. Ruben lets out a sigh, coupled with a dopey smile.
“There is nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.” He says sincerely, looking deep into your eyes. Eyes he’s met before hundreds of times, eyes he could write pages on the exact hues and undertones they possess. You blush deeply, bringing your hand to brush at his beard.
“I feel the same way, amour.” (love) His turn now to mimic your same blushing cheeks. “But please let me put my bottoms back on before the crew comes looking for us.”
He laughs, untangling his arms from around your body. The thought of the outside world not even crossing his mind in this moment of bliss.  
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honey-words · 11 months
Text
spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader
synopsis:   you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there. 
content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort
wc: 3.1k
author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :)
part 1 of the spider boy series
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“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”
“You’re a spider-man fan?”
You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process. 
“Midoriya! You scared me.”
He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did. 
“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”
You both shared a laugh. 
“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”
“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you. 
“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”
You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video. 
A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face. 
A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless. 
During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief. 
The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!
Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too. 
By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus. 
The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep. 
You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am. 
The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep. 
This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused. 
You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?
The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings. 
This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready. 
The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed. 
She never hissed. 
You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle. 
As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.
It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out. 
As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.
Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately. 
“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”
“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep. 
It was 4am. 
You could not help the gasp that escaped you. 
“Midoriya?”
The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense. 
“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him. 
“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”
“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”
Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again. 
This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again. 
The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony. 
“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action. 
“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”
“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”
“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”
You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was. 
“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.” 
“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at. 
“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs. 
“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.” 
It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse. 
His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.  
“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”
“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”
Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”
You smiled back at him. “Promise.”
You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door. 
Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.
You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question. 
——— * * * ———
“Trauma bond?”
“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong. 
It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you. 
After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments. 
“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap. 
“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”
“Wanna talk about it?” you said. 
“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone. 
“Midoriya—” 
“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”
He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”
“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door. 
“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised. 
“You wait up for me?”
“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.” 
“Really? I’m sorry.”
“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”
A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya. 
“What was that?”
“Promise.” 
Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”
He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update. 
Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room. 
“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest. 
“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”
“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”
“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door. 
The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around. 
You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back. 
The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.
“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”
He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in. 
“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear. 
You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers
“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head. 
You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”
He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”
“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”
You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing. 
The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.
“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it. 
“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”
Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring. 
Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.” 
“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.
“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”
He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
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masterlist
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loviingpedri · 5 months
Text
one of his girls tonight - hector fort
prompt: he can’t get enough of you.
warnings: cursing, drinking, clubbing, suggestive content, grammar issues, not intense smut (viewer discretion is still advised)
please let me know if more since this is going to be a little explicit.
any italicized texts are lyrics
credits to owners for all images
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what else do young adults do in their free time? party, of course.
nothing like a hot saturday night in barcelona when the city was awake as people went out.
“y/n! my sexy girl, let’s go!” going out with your friends at least once a month was a must. meeting new people, kissing strangers, waking up next to someone random.
everything felt like a fever dream. especially that one boy you shared an unforgettable kiss with. last month, you were drunk out of your mind. you met this one guy, he had brown fluffy hair and touched you in the right places. your friends always said you were gonna go home with him and make him yours for the night. until, a random girl walked up to you and slapped you. either you just made out with someone’s boyfriend or someone was a complete control freak over him.
you hoped to see him tonight. some reassurance of what happened last month. and if he’s single, maybe you’ll keep him wrapped around your finger this time.
“alright! i’m ready!” you grabbed your small purse that barely fit anything in it and ran into the uber with the 10 other people in it. “a bit crowded?” you laughed as some people were sitting on each other’s laps.
“anything to save money and not have a designated driver tonight. today’s the day where all hell will break lose.” going out with a group of people was safer, calmer, and more fun.
lately, your life had been hitting every single positive goal in life. you spent your days with the people who brought out the best. little did you know, you would meet the person who would see you inside and out.
getting out the car was a hassle. thanking the driver and running to show your ids to the bouncer. already pre-gamed at your tiny apartment, it was finally time to let loose.
“it’s fucking hot in here.” one of your dearest friends spoke to you as you tried to mingle on the dance floor.
“i just finished my makeup 20 minutes ago and i can feel it melting already.” you fanned yourself to keep composed.
“y/n, that guy keeps staring at you.” looking behind your shoulder. you saw the one and only boy, the one with the best lips you’ve ever felt on yours.
“holy shit. that’s the guy with the crazy girl that slapped me.” you looked at your friend in disbelief. he must’ve went out to the clubs a lot if you continued to see him.
“go up to him. i don’t see her around. ask him what that whole fight was about. take a shot though, you’re gonna need it.” turning around, you could already see his eyes going up and down from behind you. meeting with your friends at the bar and downing shots after shots. finally feeling the alcohol in your system, a new boost of confidence was found.
walking up to him, you spotted different girls surrounding him. as you got closer, he sat up straight and tried to distance himself. sitting down next to him, he sat there frozen.
“hey, aren’t you the guy from a few weekends back?” for a guy who seemed popular around the ladies, he seemed pretty fucking nervous around you.
“yeah i am. sorry about that slap. i don’t know what happened. she’s not my girlfriend by the way. just someone random.” he spoke so fast, fidgeting with his hands. considering you already made out with him, there was no reason for him to be scared.
“you seem very popular. met anyone you like?” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. you listened closely to the song in the background as he tried to form an answer.
push me down, hold me down.
spit in my mouth while you turn me on. i wanna take your light inside.
“you. can’t ignore a pretty girl like you.” he began to play into your little game. slowly, you touched his shoulder and sat closer to him in a comfortable position.
“oh yeah? well, this ‘pretty girl’ has to know your name first.”
and i’m screamin’ out. give me tough love.
“my name is hector. yours?”
“i’m y/n. you have a little something on your neck.” spotting a red kiss-mark on his neck, obviously not from you, you smudged it off.
we don’t gotta be in love no. i don’t gotta be the one, no.
i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.
“wishing it was your lipstick?” he give a little grin, trying to rile you up. you looked at him, his way of words trying to get into your pants was working.
“i don’t need to wish.” within seconds, your lips happened to be on hector’s. your legs straddling him while he rubbed your thighs.
he knows how to get the best out of me.
his hands were grabbing your waist as you felt the material of his pants under you. he continued rubbing your thighs, but he slowly made it up to your ass. as you gasped for air, he decided it was a good time to slip in his tongue.
finally breaking the kiss, you hear him whimper for more even over the loud music. smiling at him, you made your way to his neck and jaw. you planted a few kisses here and there, then you could feel his hand start to go under your dress.
“not here, but i know a few places.” making eye contact, you already knew where this was going.
hector wanted to you to be his girl every night.
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author’s note: author gone wild. imagination got the best of me and i know this is not likely of my stories. let me know if i did good for these kind of storylines!
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Hi Fen! Hope you're doing well <3
I've been having such a hard time going to sleep lately and I was wondering if the moon boys ever have that problem - when they're not trying to stay up that is. So what do you think? Do any of them have trouble falling asleep? What do they do when that happens? And how do you think they'd help a Reader who couldn't fall asleep?
I’m so sorry you’re having trouble sleeping! (And that it’s taken me so long to reply) I hope you're doing better now <3
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Rating: PG  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?
Warnings: brief mention to sex
Steven
Doesn’t have trouble sleeping, and can go to sleep quite easily when he’s not fighting it AND when Marc isn’t co-fronting (Marc’s sleeping issues bleed over into Steven).
When you can’t sleep though Steven is more than happy to stay up with you.
“Spend most of my adult life on 2 hours of sleep a day, didn't I? Yes. So this isn’t even water off a duck’s back, this is air off a duck’s back, this is not even noticeable love.” 
Will suggest lots of different things to do: reading (he will read to you if you want to try to sleep), watch something, listen to music, go on a weird London at 3:30am walk, “the night tube is running and we could go to 24 hour karaoke in Soho?”, “did you know these libraries are open at 4am?”, “I know a 24 gym that has a pool, we could go swimming!”, “Beckenham Place Park actually has open water swimming, I bet we’d be the only ones there! But I’m gonna wear a nose clip because I don’t want possible brain-eating amoeba up my nose, do I? No.” Proceeds to tell you a documentary's worth of information about Naegleria fowleri and how it was found in 1978 in Bath, so “yes it is in the UK Marc.”
Basically he’s full of ideas about where to go in the middle of the night that’s open because that’s what he used to do when he was trying not to sleep. (Also it’s nice to do things when there’s not so many people about.) 
Will suggest driving to a spot he knows outside of London where there’s less light pollution to look at the stars. Will wake up Jake to do the driving. Will bully the hell out of Khonshu if the sky isn’t clear. (And will make him get rid of the cloud.) 
100% would ask if you would like him to fuck you to sleep.
Marc
He’s not asleep either. 
Usually gets Steven or Jake to fall asleep for him.
However, if they’re already asleep, or not available, he goes with the ‘I am laying down with my eyes closed, because it’s still resting’ philosophy. 
He tries not to toss and turn a lot, but he does bless him. 
Has tried to drink himself to sleep on several occasions. 
Doesn’t like to see you having trouble sleeping at all and spends ages fussing over you. 
Fluffs the pillows, gets extra blankets, gets less blankets, turns the heating on, gets the fan out, will run you a bath and put all the lavender stuff in and make you 500 herbal teas, then change the bed covers. 
Will offer to sleep on the sofa or the floor so he doesn’t disturb you while you’re trying to sleep. (Then apologies when you obviously hate the idea of him being away from you.)
Is giving ALL the cuddles, however you want them. Will lay in the most uncomfortable position for himself for you to be comfy (will not tell you the position is uncomfortable for him.)
Tells you the most outrageously made up stories in quiet hushed tones to help lull you to sleep and then acts mock offended if you doubt that anything he says didn’t really happen.
Makes you cum on his mouth repeatedly until you’re so exhausted you have no choice but to fall asleep.
Jake
Can actually fall asleep anywhere at any time. 
I still firmly believe that before Steven and Marc know about him he would front just to go to sleep because they are so bad at getting some shut eye and constantly run the body into the ground.
Has melatonin tablets and a whole pharmacy's worth of sleeping aids to share. 
Will 100% take you for a drive to try to get you to fall asleep (or just to take you somewhere if you want, or if Steven has woken him up to drive.)
“Jake, I need you to drive to-”
“Steven… It's bedtime, time for sleep. No driving.”
“Oh, but S/O is having trouble sleeping and-”
Jake is already out of bed with his car keys in hand.
Will offer to be your weighted blanket and lay all over you. 
Says he will threaten Khonshu to keep the sun down so you can rest if it takes you a while to get to sleep. 
Tries to (lovingly) bore you to sleep by counting sheep out loud and in detail. “This one is a Merino sheep, the ones that are very fluffy. Her name is Harold. She likes grass, but not clover. Which is unusual for a sheep. So that’s one so far, one sheep. Now this next one is…”
Doesn’t offer sexy times because he doesn’t want to be pushy, however if you suggest it he’s happily all over you.
____________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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nsharks · 1 year
Text
buckshot | simon “ghost” riley
words: 2.4k
plot: simon teaches you how to use a shotgun so you can protect the family while he’s gone.
tags: mostly fluff, dad simon, a small touch of smut, lots of gun talk, fem!reader
a/n: I am not pro-guns at all this is just a fic. also based on my research shotguns and hunting rifles are the only guns you can own in the uk.
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“Why the hell not?”
Simon is standing in the doorway of your bathroom, arms crossed and his mask off as he watches you brush your hair.
Sharing a home with him, and now a baby with him, has made Simon the most protective person you’d ever met. Perhaps even more so in the past few months he’d been home since the birth of your son. He refused to let you do anything but rest and nurse for the first month. He’d wake up multiple times during the night just to check the locks on all the doors, and recheck them, and then check up on the baby’s room, as if someone could have snuck in and swept him away.
You’re paranoid, Simon, you’d told him a couple times. Groggy and woken up again by his nightly patrol. Sometimes you even caught him just sitting in the living room at ridiculous hours; he claimed that it was due to a bad dream, but you suspected he was trying to take “watch” while his family slept.
“Because, Simon,” you say in exasperation, seeing his irritated reflection in the bathroom mirror. “I don’t like guns. Why would I want to shoot them?”
Simon always kept a shotgun hidden in the house.
You’d known that he had the license for it since before you. He even made you get licensed a couple years ago (in case of emergencies, he’d said). But you weren’t a fan of that sort of thing, and he hadn’t insisted on you actually using one until now.
“You don’t have to fuckin’ like them. You just have to know how to use one,” Simon says tersely. He runs a hand through his hair, an action he does only when he’s maskless around you. Even after all these years, it’s still a shocking sight to see him without the skull painted over his appearance.
Skull or not, he’s intimidating.
You don’t share his worries about your and the baby’s safety. Not when you’ve got him to scare people off.
“I really don’t want to,” you sigh, setting the brush down. Your voice is soft and careful, not wanting to fight him over something so ridiculous, especially when you’ve seen how paranoid he’s grown.
In no time at all, you’re standing in front of him with your hands placed on his bare chest, the strain of his muscles softening only slightly under your touch. It takes him a moment before his arms slide around your waist.
“Y/N,” he breathes out through his nostrils and leans over to touch his forehead to yours. “I’m… leavin’ soon. Next week. You’re not going to have me here in case… in case shit happens.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” you tell him in a whisper. “Not to me, not to our son.”
He doesn’t seem convinced. Instead, the notch in his throat presses against his skin as he swallows.
“Bloody hell, Y/N. Can you just do this for me?” His forehead slides down to the dip in your neck, breathing in your neck like he always does, and his voice has turned hoarse. “I need to… keep you safe. Have to.”
You’ve only ever heard the story about his family and his little nephew once or twice. It’s not something you could bare thinking about when your son slept just meters away, but it crosses your mind.
Maybe Simon has a point.
It took him so long to feel safe, worthy, of growing this family with you.
You can only imagine the fear he must feel. How much responsibility he feels to make sure your fate doesn’t end up like the rest of his family members.
Hands moving to the expanse of his back, you melt into him and finally give in. “Okay,” you whisper. “Okay, okay. Show me how to use a gun, Simon.”
_____
You both feel awful saying goodbye to your son for the day.
It’s the first time you’ve asked for a nanny. Simon preformed his own “background check” on each name you listed off to him, names that had been mentioned to you by friends or family. After his thorough research, you had finally settled on someone to watch the baby while the two of you went on your “hunting” trip.
“I think he will miss you the most,” you’d pouted, watching Simon hold your son before you left.
The baby looked so small in his arms; even at three months old, Simon’s hand could cover the entirety of his little back.
“No way, love,” Simon gave a small kiss to the boy’s forehead. “You’re the one feedin’ him. He’s gonna miss the fresh meals more than his dad today.”
Now, not at home with the baby for the first time since his entrance in your lives, Simon is driving you down a gravel road in the middle of nowhere. You have been awfully quiet the whole ride, equally as hesitant about the new babysitter as you are about what your husband is dragging you out here to do.
You know what he does. You’ve known perfectly well what Simon is infamous for, what his nickname is, and the long list of names of the people who have died at his hands. You’re okay with it since you never have to see it, because when it comes to violence, you are nothing like your husband. You used to catch Simon practically smirking when a gory or violent scene would come on in a movie. Meanwhile, you’d bury your gaze in his chest and grimace.
Don’t worry, pet, they’re not even showing it accurately, he’d tell you, as if that would help.
The place he stops at is a wooded area where the dirt road starts to dissipate into tall grasses. He claims to know the property’s owner so it’s fine for you to be there. He’s instructed you to wear long pants and comfy shoes for the occasion. For himself, he’s opted for black cargo pants and his painted balaclava.
“C’mon,” he says, stopping the car and eagerly getting the shotgun he brought out of the trunk.
You follow him into the woods. Something about his confidence indicates that he’s been here before, but you’ve never known him to hunt animals, especially with what his father used to do with them.
“We’re not… we’re not killing anything, right?” you ask when he finally stops walking. There’s nothing but tall trees around you and the occasional bird or squirrel causing you to flinch in surprise.
Simon’s too busy loading the gun to look at you.
“No.”
Something about his voice is different than the Simon you know. Concentrating intently, he closes the shotgun and then reaches for your waist, pulling you close to him.
“Take it,” he says huskily. Your fingers outstretch to wrap around the gun and take it from his hold. It feels… heavier than you anticipated and your grasp is awkward, the butt of it pressing into your chest.
“Well, not like that,” you can almost hear the amusement in his voice, but then it sobers, deepening with a tone of command. “Place this hand on the stock wrist.”
He’s behind your body, closely pressed against you so he can maneuver your hands where he wants them. You’re trying your best to focus since this is a serious situation, a loaded gun in your hands, but it’s hard not to feel the satisfying warmth emitted from his chest.
Once Simon seems satisfied, he asks you, “How does it feel?”
“Heavy,” you admit.
“Let’s fix your stance,” he instructs gruffly, “That should help.”
He uses his booted foot to tap against your feet, urging them further apart until they’re about shoulder-width. He shows you how to stand properly, how to bend your knees slightly and keep the gun high by your cheek as you hold it. He tells you to keep your feet planted to absorb the recoil. You’re doing your best to follow his instructions, feeling like one of his soldiers.
“Is this okay?” you ask, his hands dropping from yours so it’s only you now.
He takes a step back and inspects you with heavy eyes, the same eyes he drags over your naked body in bed. But this time, he’s not inspecting every detail of your bare skin and reveling in the beautiful sight of your curves and dips. Instead, he is inspecting the quality of your stance as you hold a weapon, and you try your best to appear confident under your husband’s experienced gaze.
“Good girl,” he finally says. The praise makes you shudder. “You’ve got a solid stance.”
“Can I shoot it now?”
“Eager, are we?” He shakes his head and leaves you to grab his backpack. He pulls out a couple of empty bottles.
“Point it at the ground, love,” he orders before he steps in front of you. You obey, lowering your aim and being mindful not to shoot him as he places the bottles on a fallen tree in front of you.
Once he’s out of the way, back by your side and wrapping his arm around your waist, you lift the shotgun back to the position he has showed you. His hot breath floods through his mask and tickles your neck.
“There’s a safety lock on it,” he mutters lowly, pointing to a little switch next to the trigger. “You need to move it if you want to shoot.”
“Oh,” you say, cheeks flushing from the sound of his voice. “Should I unlock it now?”
“Go ahead,” Simon says, “The gun in the house is loaded. You just have to unlock it if you ever need it”
There’s something about the way Simon’s powerful presence envelops you that makes your head feel fuzzy. It’s time to shoot now, but your heart is thumping wildly and you can’t help but lean into him.
“Can you… can you shoot it with me? For the first one?”
“Just the first one,” he warns, but is already placing his hands over yours, touch warm and strong and reassuring. There is always safety to be found in his touch. “Don’t worry so much about aim, alright? These aren’t regular slugs. They’re buckshot’s.”
You blink. “What?”
“They have a bunch of little pellets, not a single projectile. It’ll be easier for you.”
Although you are wildly out of your element, he is comfortably in his. You’re almost certain this isn’t even the kind of gun he uses in the field, but still, it is a language he is readily able to speak no matter the weapon.
“Finger on the trigger,” he murmurs in your ear.
Your finger finds the curve of the trigger, his finger following yours so you’re not pressing it on your own. There’s not another second for you to hesitate before he’s shooting it for you, bringing your finger down with his. The shot rings out. Echoes among the wilderness along with the sound the shattering bottle.
The recoil presses you further into his hold, but he keeps a firm grip on you, taking most of it in himself.
“I’ve got ya,” he assures you, noticing the wideness of your eyes. “That was good. You did good.“
“Oh, wow,” you sputter. The strength of it, the feeling of its power beneath your gentle hands, is not what you imagined. You wonder what it feels like to have this frightening kind of rush all the time. How it must feel to watch a body take the bullet rather than a bottle.
“On your own now,” Simon huffs.
The warmth and security of his touch is lost when he steps away and leaves the gun in your hands. The weight causes your hands to falter, but you repeat everything he’s told you in your head and adjust your grip. You want to show him you can handle yourself. Ease his worries with the assurance that you’re not weak and incapable whenever he’s gone.
But you hesitate.
Swallowing, you take your eyes off the next bottle to look at him for help. “Simon, I can’t-“
“Hey, hey.” The command in his voice remains, firm yet gentle. “Yes, you can. You are the strongest woman I know.”
“But… but I’m not you.”
“You don’t have to be me to shoot a shotgun.” His eyes catch yours and he gives a small nod of encouragement. “It’s just for protection, yeah? Not trying to turn you into a soldier.”
With the small encouragement, your finger returns to the trigger. You widen your stance a little. Keep the gun’s stock up by your cheek. You feel his eyes watching you carefully, but for just a moment, you pretend Simon isn’t there. Because the truth is, he’s not there all the time. There are stretches of time when the only person you, and now your son, have to rely on is you, and that’s not a responsibility you take lightly.
You shoot the gun and the next bottle shatters.
The strong recoil causes your feet to dig into the dirt and your body shudders.
“Christ, nice shot,” you hear Simon say over your steady breathing. You lower the gun and beam at him, the rush from the shot filling you with confidence.
“Thanks to you, lieutenant.”
_____
Practicing until all the bottles are broken leaves you with a sense of adrenaline that Simon assures you he knows how to soothe. The sun starts to set as he gets you back to the car, but once you’re inside, he’s pulling you onto his lap and attaching his lips to your collarbone.
“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he groans against your skin and anxiously peels off your top, your pants, every piece of fabric that gets in his way. He kisses the marks that pregnancy has left behind, always supplying them with adoration. His skin is hot to the touch, just as consuming as it had been during his teachings, and when he starts moaning into your neck about how fucking hot you are, you wonder if seeing you shoot a gun is the cause of the wild lust in his voice.
“Got to reward you,” he hums low, giving you his fingers just how he knows you like them. “You were such a good girl for me.”
When you’re back home that night, finally leaving after his reward in the car, Simon is the one to put the baby to bed. Then, he joins you in your room, slipping his warm body under the blankets beside you, and sleeping through the night for the first time in months. He thinks, maybe, now he won’t be quite as worried when he has to leave you both next week.
——
a/n: ok I promise simon picked up all the glass and threw it away somewhere because he’s not a litterer 👍🏻 also I don’t like any kind of gun at all and I’d prefer if they didn’t exist but I can understand why someone like simon would feel safer with one in his house given his past
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zujime · 2 months
Text
─── vi
cw. best friend’s ex! vi, fluff, implied fem reader (no pronouns used tho), acquaintances to lovers, (slight) slow burn, cuddles, sharing a bed, movie nights, pet names mentioned: princess, babe, hun, gorgeous.
note. a lil somthing i conjured up during my period insomnia :)) I'm running on one hour of sleep ya'll mrgh... anyway, should i make another part?
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best friend’s ex! vi who you only ever saw in passing when she was still with your bestie. why they broke up was always a topic your friend never really expanded upon but they got off on somewhat good terms—though you do recall the prolonged stares vi would give you when she’d come by.
best friend’s ex! vi who you happened to stumble upon when going to get your lunch at the cafe that was across from your job right after you finished your shift. you remember hearing that she wasn’t really a fan of the food here because “the food ’s just glorified hospital food”, though the silly jab at her comment is caught in your throat when she greets you; silver eyes soft as they flicker between your eyes, scarred lips curling into a shy smirk as the velvety soft sound of her voice reaches your ears.
best friend’s ex! vi who you gave your number to after that same encounter to keep in touch—she’d text you during your breaks to ask silly questions and take your mind off work stress and later call you after your shifts end. and those calls end up lasting far longer than intended, either up until someone falls asleep or till someone’s phone dies.
best friend’s ex! vi who takes three weeks to ask if you wanna hang out, you know, as friends? inviting you over for a movie night at her place on your day off to watch the movies you’d been dying to watch but never got around to. you were able to get through the first two but as soon as the third movie started, you began nodding off before vi felt your head softly fall onto her taut shoulder—your lashes ghosting the exposed skin as you slept peacefully, drooling a little.
best friend’s ex! vi who chuckles slightly at the sight and at the warm, heart-swelling feeling you give her whenever you call, text—hell, whenever she sees your face. she turns the tv off before picking you up and tucking you in her bed before she goes to sleep on the couch.
best friend’s ex! vi who you wake up and walk down the hall to see laid out on the couch, limbs hanging off the couch from under the soft blanket she had on—low mumbles could be heard from her sleeping form, faint yet audible, though they’re cut short as she stretches and slides a hand over her face in hopes of wiping away the sleep, eyelids heavy as she peers at you.
“how long have you been watching me?” her voice still carried the taunt with a softness as she spoke groggily. you feel your face grow warm at her question, despite it being a tease but you brush it off and thank her for letting you stay the night even though none of you intended to have a sleepover. she hums in response before getting up off the couch. “it was like—three in the morning—and i am not some asshole who would’ve just let you go home alone, princess.” the pet name slid so effortlessly off her tongue as she passed by you, to go shower.
best friend’s ex! vi who you find yourself hanging out with more and more, and the pet names she’d give you only seemed to grow—not like you had a problem with it. she’d call you things like babe, princess, and hun far more than she’d ever say your actual name, she even calls you gorgeous, though rather sparingly because sometimes she feels like she’s going a little too far.
best friend’s ex! vi who you refuse to tell your bestie about every time she asks what you’re thinking about whenever you zone out during your monthly outings.
“what’s with that face?” she inquires, giggling a bit at the shamelessly lovesick expression you wore. “what face? what’re you talking about?” you snap back to reality, eyeing your friend anxiously as you listen to her response. “you know, that face people make in those really cheesy romcoms from the 2000s when they’d just met the love of their life or something…” she trailed off, now squinting at you in suspicion. “...are you seeing someone?” “...” “hello?!” “girl, no! i’m thinking about when imma get my mfing food.”
best friend’s ex! vi who you practically live with at this point—because of how often you two have sleepovers, she has a majority of your belongings all around her apartment; your clothes in her closet and dresser, your extra toothbrush and hair products, fav foods/snacks and drinks in the fridge, etc. though, she still insists on sleeping on the couch whenever you stay over despite you stating you have no problem sharing the bed. eventually, she caved—reluctant at first as she squirmed under the comforter to get comfortable beside you until she finally was able to fall asleep. 
best friend’s ex! vi who at first when sharing the bed with you, would often wake up to make sure she wasn’t crowding your space or being touchy in any way. but the moment she woke up to your arms draped over her frame, she softened and decided to just let herself sleep—burying her face in the crook of your neck and holding you close as she slept, yet she still tries to be mindful of her movement so she doesn’t wake you.
best friend’s ex! vi who you realize is a huge sucker for physical affection. oftentimes brushing her hand against yours in hopes of holding it but hesitantly refraining from interlocking fingers when in public. and when the two of you are alone, she desperately leans into whatever you give her—head scratches, movie night cuddles, pinky holding, tracing her tattoos with your fingers, anything.
best friend’s ex! vi who realizes she has feelings for you during one of your typical movie nights, but the look you gave her when the movie ended—eyes reflecting the television screen so prettily as you tilt your head slightly to peer up at her before speaking, but whatever it was you said had completely gone through one ear and out the other as the skin of her ears slowly became a deep red.
"fuck." was the only thought that crossed her mind as she stared at your soft eyes. "vi?" you murmur, a little worried at the expression she wore. but she abruptly stands up before excusing herself and heading to the bathroom.
best friend’s ex! vi who you spent the last few days worrying about—is she ok? is she sick? did you make her uncomfortable? thoughts seemed to race through your head endlessly until she asks if you could come over real quick, through a text.
best friend’s ex! vi who—despite having met multiple people before—gets nervous when you step foot in her apartment. in her eyes, the feeling of her words falling messily from her lips as she spills her guts to you feels weird. but when you creep close to her—lips mere inches from hers as your breaths mingled and eyes heavy-lidded—that feeling dissipates.
best friend’s ex! vi who gets lost in the sea that is your lips as you drown in the feelings she was too scared to show you. callous hands slotting themselves needily on each side of your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss with every shared breath, begging never to part. almost as if accepting her request, you rest a hand against hers, smiling into the searing kiss before finally pulling away for air and softly gazing up at her silver orbs.
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© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.
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sseastar · 11 months
Text
✶ tingly feeling ; lee heeseung.
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info. fluff ; lee heeseung x gn!reader warnings. physical touch / cuddling. listen to. it takes two by fiji blue.
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[✧] “see, this is nice, isn’t it?” a muffled voice says against the skin of your neck. it’s funny how much you’ve become used to the feeling of his lips grazing over your skin. you could barely look at him early into your relationship and you think you’ve come a long way. especially since your boyfriend could have anyone in the palm of his hand just by smiling. or those damn eyes.
“i suppose,” you tease, taking your hand to run your fingers through the locks of your boyfriend’s hair, his head tucked at the crook of your neck and his body half draped over yours. his arms tighten around your torso as he presses a soft kiss on a spot on your neck, and you giggle. a little under a year ago, you would’ve slapped yourself for giggling, reprimanding yourself for letting a man make you giggle. but lee heeseung always had that effect on people anyway, and you were no different.
well, except for the fact that you were the one he chose to love. and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“what do you mean you suppose? i know you’re comfortable right now,” heeseung lifts his head from where it rests against your neck and shoulder, lightly tapping his forehead onto your cheek. you only laugh, tightening your hold around the boy that lays halfway on top of you, patting both of your hands against his back and shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the top of his head.
against the sound of your oscillating towering fan in the corner, you can hear the morning birds chirping outside the window you decided to leave open the night before in hopes to cool down the stuffy summer air. the chirping was what woke heeseung up from his slumber next to you as you finished up one of your assignments before turning it in. as soon as he watched you click the bright blue ‘submit’ button and the webpage celebrated with animated confetti, he was shutting your laptop and forcing you back down onto the pillow. ‘this is your punishment for not letting me wake up in your arms.’ you only rolled your eyes at him, but allowed him to take up his rightful place over your body.
“no, yeah, you’re right, i’m enjoying this because you’re being a big baby right now.”
“hey!” he huffs, and his grip on you loosens as he props himself up to interrogate you. you don’t think you it’s possible to not get flustered by the way he hovers over your frame. even if he’s whining right now. so, you yank on his shirt again and he gives in, returning to the position he had been in. “what do you mean ‘big baby?”
“i’m saying you need to be cuddled as much as i do and that i’m glad i’m the only one that gets to see your clingy, cute side under your whole…husband material…apparatus.”
“oh, you think i’m husband material?” heeseung raises his head from your chest again to quirk an eyebrow at you and you take your hand to push his face back down to its original spot.
“hee, you already know i do, you dork,” you pout, and he only laughs against your neck, only for you to join him when you realize how content you are right now. content in this moment, in this place, in his arms.
no matter how asleep your leg is.
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⌕. author’s note ; ayo guess who's back! it's been so long sinc i last posted, and this is so so short but i currently am in finals week and just need a break so i wanted to post something here! i'm still very much working on my wips rn but i keep losing motivation and getting inspo at the worst times (like i said i have finals this and next week) so thanks everyone for the patience! i'm obviously not a consistent writer just because my personal life doesn't allow for it, but posting stuff every once in a while is just something i want to continue to do because i don't want my writing to just be stuck in my google drive! anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this very very short thing that i ended up posting as a blurb because i couldn't find a good wip to put it into lol <3
⌕. taglist ; @soobin-chois @koishua @iwonzzi @enhacolor @chrysbibi @acaiasahi
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harryisourlover · 2 months
Text
The Second Assistant
Inspired by the tongue guitar playing in Spain
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Smut alert 🚨
Harry was in the midst of a whirlwind tour when a recent breakup left him emotionally drained. Determined to avoid entanglements with fans, he found solace in his work. Amidst the chaos, he couldn't help but notice his new second assistant, (Y/N), whose beauty and grace captivated him.
(Y/N) was a beacon of joy and laughter among her colleagues, but around Harry, she turned shy and reserved. Since day one she acted like that. But one fateful night after a particularly electrifying concert where Harry had pushed the boundaries of his attire, revealed A LOT, also was a night extremely hot in Spain and (Y/N) fainted backstage! She was overwhelmed by the intensity of the performance plus hot night and the last thing that Harry did on stage definitely was the final cause of her faint.
Concerned, Harry rushed to her hotel room after his concert, still in his revealing outfit because all that matters was to see of she was really ok!
He knocked on the door, she just got out of the shower and she was expecting her meal, not Harry…
“Oh my god, it’s you!”
“I’m sorry, are you expecting someone else?”
“Just my dinner..” she said moving her eyes from his eyes going down to his torso and abs
He noticed and explained “I’m sorry again, i just got out stage and didn’t saw you there in the corner, they told me… Are you ok?”
“I don’t understand… You barely say Hi and Bye every day, any order of what to do to you i get from Mary because she’s the first assistant and i’m the second… Why do you bother coming here?”
“Excuse me are you implying that i’m a incentive boss-monster? That i don’t care? Only once that i tried to spoke to you, you didn’t looked back at me in the eyes and everytime i see you nice and goofy around the crew but always with a bad face at me, how did you expect me to act?”
“I… i was trying to act professional with you”
“I honestly thought you hated me since day one for some reason i quit trying to find out…”
“What??? I don’t hate you! Never! I’m a fan! Actually since 1D to be honest”
“Ok, now i’m the one confused here”
“When Mary interviewed me for the job she said: 1- never mention you are a fan; 2- don’t talk to him looking in his eyes because his girlfriend is nuts jealous; 3- don’t be you the cool girl i know around him, just strict professional”
“OMG i had no idea!”
“Mary says hahahah i’m your type, she’s so wrong! Look at me! But anyway she said if i want a career i can’t cause trouble in my first job ever in this industry!”
“I totally understand She was trying to help you… and avoid drama with my ex… She’s right about you being extremely attractive to me… She’s with me for 10 years she knows me very well!”
(Y/N)’s face is red and she thinks she’s about to faint again. Harry run to her holding her and asking “Are you ok? For sure?”
“I’m fine! Not going down again! It’s.. it’s just too much going on.. i need to sleep!”
“What about your food?”
“I will cancel… can you help me walking me to the bed?”
“I will help but you will eat! And i will go to my room shower and after that i will come back to see you! Where is your extra key?”
“Don’t need to do that Harry…”
“I will! Please let me do this!”
So exactly like he said, after he was back in her room. She had fallen asleep, so he took the tray away, returned to his room but kept her spare key.
Next day, like always when don’t need to travel to do a performance, Harry wake up when he wanted, brushed his teeth and looking at himself in the mirror started to think about (Y/N) and decided to go back to her room.
He wasn’t sure if she was awake yet, was 10 something AM, so he knocked softly. With no answer he did it again… and worried decided to use the key…
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She was with her AirPod, laid down on the floor, legs wide open up on the bed, rubbing her covered pussy with one hand and on the other hand watching Harry’s video a fan did of him obscenely flipping his tongue on the guitar…
Harry didn’t want to scare her but she’s couldn’t her him there! And honestly he was hard ASF!!! He decided to remove his clothes and already touching himself he walked to her bed and seat close to one of her legs, he did wile she briefly close her eyes, and when she opened…
“Ohh omg!” And removed Airpod looking at him, iPhone already on the floor and her eyes big in shock looking to Harry’s Big fat cock.
“Don’t need to say anything love, if you just let me finish here looking at you rubbing that pussy for me i will be very happy, and if you want he can pretend never happened… or…. You can get out of that floor and come here to this bed and let me taste that pussy just like you’re dreaming watching that video on repeat”
She was speechless and frozen. Harry smirked at her and that was enough to release her from the frozen state. (Y/N) started to move and stopped standing in front of him.
They connected eyes and he used one hand to hold her t-shirt up and the other hand to grab the elastic of her panties, she nodded and he started to slowly remove her panties…
“All of this mess for me darling?”
“…Y..yes!”
“May i ask you to remove your t-shirt and lay next to me?”
She nodded and did as he asked… slowly Harry moved to the top of her using his knees and hands to spread her legs saying: “Darling I don’t dare to go up there and kiss you like i want, because it’s dangerous… we can fall in love and ruin business! But if you don’t mind i will bury my head in your perfect soaked cunt… and after this anytime you or me need some relief we can count on each other secretly ok?”
“Ok Harry”
“Call me Daddy!” And with that he started to eat her like the hungriest man in the world, stroking his penis at the same time. (Y/N) came like never before and was fighting to close her legs involuntarily.
“Just another one sweetheart, one more of your sweet orgasm juice and i will let go” He said and immediately sucked her clit wile inserted his finger, she cried loud in despair and he was just so impressed by how tight her pussy was, he said “Girl, you can barely take my finger, if i try to put my cock on you I don’t know if will fit…”
(Y/N) moaned and squirted with that dirty talk, Harry drank all and released his orgasm in his hand and belly. “I don’t know if i can keep my mouth out of this pretty pussy anymore girl!”
He started to put his clothes on with the devilish smile saying “I’m getting out of here before someone sees me wile looking for me.. Angel, i will always have your room’s door keys now! This will be our secret!”
And he left…. Not knowing that the biggest secret (Y/N) carries… She’s 22 but she’s virgin…
And now all she can think about is how to tell him! And when…
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delulustateofmind · 22 days
Text
Title: Between Worlds Part I
I’ve never written fan fiction before but here we go :) inspired by: I stole the duke’s first night
Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel 
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!
Trigger warnings: mention of death (reader’s previous life), alcohol, mentions of cheating, sexual implications, poor decisions. angst in the beginning. Let me know if I’m missing any! 
word count: 2k
****
Before the jump of reality:
I had just got home after a long day of work, stumbling into my apartment that I shared with my boyfriend. I was in the middle of taking off my shoes when I notice another set of shoes that neither of us owned. After finishing setting my things down, I walk towards our bedroom. Sounds of giggles escaping our bedroom, I feel my gut harden, there’s no way.
There it was my best friend and my boyfriend in bed together wrapped up in the sheets. My boyfriend’s smile faded when he met my gaze, his own face turning into pure shock.
“Y/n what are you doing home so early, I thought you wouldn’t be home for a few more hours,” my boyfriend said in a trembling voice. My friend on the other hand gave me a look of shock before stating,
“Y/n I swear it’s not what it looks like, we were drinking together and one thing led to another. I swear…I wouldn’t do that to you,” my best friend breathed, her voice sounding pleading as she was frantically putting on her clothes.
I stood there, not knowing what to do as the tears rolled down my face. My boyfriend, the one that stayed with me through all of my hardships. My best friend that was my ride or die. The people I trusted the most. Together in bed.
Without a thought I ran out of the room. My tears blocking my vision. I ran out of the apartment, down the stairs. I had to just get out of here. I didn’t care that I had no shoes on, I didn’t care that I left my keys at home.
I stopped running when I noticed I was in the middle of the street and a truck coming straight at me. A bright light cleared my vision and I was out cold.
The next moment, I woke up, my head had a raging headache. Sunlight creeped my windows, the smell of misty and pine trees filled the room. I took a deep breath, was it just a nightmare? Taking in my surroundings, this is not my room. Before freaking out I met the gaze of a maid.
“Miss. Y/n, we don’t have all day. We have a really busy day today especially if you plan on meeting with your friends at Rita’s later tonight,” she said as she opened the curtains, letting more sunlight fill the room.
“Where am I?” My voice came out as a trembling whisper. I could feel a lump in my throat. The thoughts in my head pounding as I looked at the maid. “How do you know my name?” I managed to force out.
My maid huffed and gave me a smirk. “Miss Y/n, we don’t have time for your silly games like usual. You have a dress fitting in an hour, we cannot be late this time,” she walked over to me, noticing my paleness. The maid tilted her head.
“Are you feeling okay? You look awfully pale and almost like you’re about to cry,” her voice once filled with amusement was turning into concern.
The panic seeped in as I looked at her pleading. “I’m going to sound crazy, but I have no idea who you are. Where I am and how you know my name.”
The maid looked at me with concern as she placed her palm on my head to check for a fever. “You don’t have a fever…Y/n, you’re in Velaris. Remember, we just got back from a trip to the summer court last night.” The maid's voice was full of concern as she checked my body. “Perhaps the travel overwhelmed you…let me bring you some water,” the maid claimed as she left quickly.
Velaris? Like the city in A Court of Thorns and Roses? There’s no way I’m in Velaris. This is just a terrible dream…right?
I look around the room, it was a delicate pink room. Giving the impression of a humble noble daughter’s room. I get out of bed, I’m wearing what seems to be a long night gown made of silk. There’s no way this is real. As I move across the room to investigate my surroundings, I stub my toe on the table, murmuring curses to myself.
Yep, this is real. That should have woken me.
After my maid came back, gave me water and bread as I ate, she talked about what we had to do today. I had a dress fitting for the new season. I was to also meet some friends for some drinks. With the information I was gathering, I was the only child to one of the city officials, a relatively minor character. Classified to be some form of a noble but not highly ranked where I would ever run into any of the major characters.
A Court of Thorns and Roses, the book series that I would often reread a billion times. A comfort series of sorts. The world that I’m now in…how did this happen?
As my maid got me ready for the day, a concerned expression still settled on her face. I pondered some things, making a mental checklist of the information I know so far based off of my conversation with my maid.
The war with Hybern is over, it has been a year since then. Meaning the Valkyrie hasn’t been established. Feyre wasn’t pregnant yet. I have no magic, I have some small healing abilities but that’s the only thing I have going on for me. While in my world, I had no parents. It seems in this one I actually have decent parents that care and spoil me. Leading to the fact that I run a bookstore with a coffee shop that they bought for me as a graduation present. The friends that I’m meeting up with tonight are of higher status than myself. Often times we go to Rita’s together to catch up.
After she finished getting me ready, the dressmaker arrived and took my measurements and such. Creating a dress for Starfall was not an easy feat, especially if I wanted to catch the eye of suitors. My dressmaker claimed. I rolled my eyes at that comment. I wasn’t sure how long I would be in this world for, but given how my life is set up here. I want it to be an easy life of relaxation compared to my original world.
 ******
After what seemed like hours upon hours of trying on dresses and getting sized. I was finally done with that task of the day and meeting my friends. 
The first girl I met, standing outside Rita’s with a big grin,  was apparently my roommate from boarding school. Dark curls lined her tan face. She stood a bit taller than myself, wearing pants and an oversized button up shirt. ‘Rose’ was her name as she pulled me into a hug. 
“Y/n it’s been too long! How was summer court? I heard their beaches are beautiful” she gave me a warm smile before looking at our other friend that was walking over. “Hazel! Y/n wasn’t late this time. Isn’t that a shock!” Rose exclaimed.
‘Hazel’ was your typically shy girl. Plain looking but had gentle features. Straight dark brown hair that flowed to her waist and large circular glasses that seemed to cover her beautiful blue eyes. Hazel gave me a warm smile. Apparently she helps me with my bookshop. 
“Y/n! We’ve been so busy while you were gone. I’m glad you’re back though!” She gave me a gentle smile. 
I gave them both a smile, Rose seemed to notice something was off but shrugged it off before dragging us all into Rita’s. My stomach was turning, how long could I play into this facade without getting caught?
It was interesting to see the pleasure hall from the books. I planted a fake smile to my face, trying not to focus on the unsettling notion that I am currently inside my favorite book series. Music coated the halls as Rose pushed us to a table and claimed she would bring us some drinks. Hazel sat with me quietly as we both observed the room. Waiting for our extroverted friend to come back.
If I remember correctly the main character that comes here frequently is Mor but what are the odds of her bringing the whole inner circle here. While I was deep in thought, I didn’t notice the beer that my friend put in front of me. 
“Let’s get wasted until sunrise!” Rose explained before clinking glasses with the rest of us. 
As the night went on, we had a blast chatting about random topics. Rose was apart of the guard, one of the few females that is working towards becoming a knight. She shared stories of her training.
Hazel was sharing stories of her work, writing a novel about a princess falling in love with a dragon. Clearly it had some smut, which Hazel blushed about as she went into detail about certain scenes. A book that I can clearly imagine Nesta purchasing in the future.
I decided to take our drinking up a notch, teaching the girls on how to make a sake bomber. Which clearly brought some attention when a few males came over and chatted with us. Before I knew it, I was black out drunk and dancing with a beautiful man with hazel eyes. From the drinking, it seems my vision was awful, because I couldn’t notice the large wings behind him. My gaze could only focus on his hypnotizing eyes.
In a voice that sounded like a melody made for my ears I hear the words, “Shall we get out of here?” The male whispered in a low tone. I gave a nod, why not? Perhaps I will be waking up in the morning back in my world.
****
Wrong. I did not wake up in my world. I woke up with a man wrapping his arm around my waist. A wing draped over us and the feeling of hot breath behind my neck. Shadows kissed my cheeks. My stomach tightened, shadows, that could only be one male that I could think of.
All I remember is dancing and going home with this man. One of which, was the one with gorgeous hazel eyes that seemed to pierce my soul. Instead of turning over to get a better look at the man, I slowly moved out of the bed, unwrapping his hand from my waist. Anxiety creeping my body, causing my hands to tremble.
“You going somewhere?” A small smile formed on the male’s lips when I turned to look back at him.
This male was no other than the spymaster for the Night Court. His dark hair a mess, his hazel eyes had a sleepy gleam to them. A smirk on his lips that spoke of mischief. Azriel was more beautiful than ever described in the books. This male looked like a god that I wanted to worship to the end of my days.
I wasn’t able to form words, my mouth opened but nothing came out. I looked at him with a shocked expression.
“Y/n? I asked you a question, you wouldn’t be trying to leave me would you?” He asked playfully. “Because, trying to sneak away from the spymaster would not be an easy feat, my love,” his catlike grin as he pulled me back into an embrace.
My mind was in full-on panic, I wanted an easy life, I was fine without meeting the characters. I was fine just living on the sidelines. Yet, here I was in the arms of one of the most dangerous man in all of Prythian.
“Did we…you know,” I muttered sheepishly as I felt a blush creep my face. I was no stranger to one-night stands, but when it came to a one-night stand with my favorite character, that was a whole other story. The very thought made my anxiety heightened.
Azriel held in a laugh, “we almost did until you…passed out. You kept telling me how pretty and misunderstood I was…as if you knew everything about me,” he claimed softly. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, love,” his thumb brushed along my bare skin.
A flash of drunken flashbacks came back. One of which, where I was crying to him about how misunderstood he is. That he’s not a monster and deserves all of the love in the world. That this beautiful man is a necessary evil.
Azriel pulled me out of my thoughts as he shifted in the bed to get a look at my face. Grabbing a strand of hair as he looked down at me with a warm expression.
“You don’t plan on leaving me, after last night do you?” He murmured in a voice that dripped like honey. His eyes looked like the belonged to a pleading puppy.
I'm screwed.
“If I were trying to leave…would that upset you?” I gazed up at him sheepishly.
“Of course, I wouldn’t want my mate to leave me,” he grinned like a cat watching its prey squirm.
Wait…mate?!
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shotokimchi · 5 months
Text
Cigarettes After Sex
Just a small drabble I decided to write because apparently, I can't stop thinking about this man ya'll lmao
W: f!reader, reader smokes, mentions of sex, fluff, gojo being a man child as always
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Just Gojo waking up to an empty bed after having a steamy night with you, he whines and searches for the spot you should be sleeping on only for his hand to meet with silky white sheets. His nose takes notice of the lingering smell of nicotine in the air, nose twitching and scrunching up with dislike which causes him to vocally whine, hoping to get your attention so you can join him in bed (after brushing your teeth and changing your clothes of course, cuz he's not a fan of the smell). After multiple attempts of exaggerated huffs and puffs and small calls of 'baby' s. The handsome man-child finally makes an effort to turn his face towards the balcony, his shiny azul capri eyes meeting your back, eyes slowly trailing up from your thighs towards your head (you are wearing his white shirt which exposes the fat of your thighs to his hungry eyes) He giggles and bites his lips, trying to contain his excitement. You are here with him, in your shared apartment. Watching the city with a cigarette in your hand while the marks he left sits prettily on your canvas-like skin. It makes him happy, feels like he owns every special thing about you, he kicks the covers on him with a groan and slowly waddles over to you while scratching that one part at the back of his head, white long fingers checking if his undercut got longer, it's been 2 weeks since he got them trimmed. He slowly slides the glass door open, causing you to turn and give him a "morning" smile. "Come back to bed baby~" He whines and slowly circles his arms around your waist while dramatically dropping his head on your shoulder, his nose making contact with that one spot on your neck, causing you to twitch and giggle in return.
He gives you a sincere chuckle and blows a raspberry into your neck, causing your giggles to turn into squeaky laughter. You run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp with your slightly long nails, causing his eyes to roll at the back of his head, he voices his pleasure by letting out a pleased groan. "Go back to bed Toru, I'll join you in a second kay?" He frowns and shakes his head multiple times while digging his face into your shoulder. He is super clingy but you love it, love the amount of need he has, love the constant cravings for affection love the genuine smile that appears on his face every time your eyes meet his. Love it when he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug after not seeing you for a full day. Love how his eyes shine brighter after you surprise him with the desserts you've baked. He is your Satoru, your one and only true love. "What are you thinking so deeply about?" The certain amount of curiosity in his tone interrupts your thoughts. You slowly turn towards him and this time it's you who's circling your arms around his waist, while slowly laying your head on his chest you let out a content sigh "I'm thinking about you." stiffening from your words, his bright eyes look at you with interest. "About me?" You finally raise your head and rest your chin on his chest while taking in the beauty on your lover's face "I was thinking about how much I love you." It's easy to notice the quick appearance of surprise on his face followed by a handsome grin taking its place on his glossed lips, he is holding you a bit tighter this time. His eyes bright and the tips of his ears dusted with a pretty shade of red. "Awww I knew you were obsessed with me baby." He quickly masks his coyness with his usual smugness but the poker face doesn't last longer when you reply with words of affection instead of your usual playful attitude, this time you don't play along, you just want to actually show how much you love him. "Yeah I am obsessed with you, I love you Toru, whatever I do and wherever I go you are the only thing on my mind, i cant- Woah" He cuts you off by quickly lifting you onto his shoulder and dashes inside, his movements fast and impatient, he quickly drops you onto the bed and gets on top of you, caging you between his bulky arms and rests a pointer finger on your pretty lips, your brows slowly quirk up after seeing the slight amount of surprise and shyness in his eyes and you land a small kiss onto the tip of his finger. "I know it's impossible to resist me, baby~" The usual playfulness takes over and he lifts the white shirt up, landing kisses on your stomach while gazing up at you "Says you who was as red as a tomato ten seconds ago~" He raises a brow at your comeback and grins wider, "Says you who was blushing like crazy while screaming my name last ni- ACK" you quickly pinch his arm causing him to pout and slowly bite the fat of your tummy. This time you are the one who is whining while trying to pry him off of you while he attacks your stomach with a bunch of kisses followed by small nibbles of his teeth. You tug at his hair causing him to bring his attention to your face, cupping his cheeks with your hands you bring his face towards yours to land a passionate kiss on his lips, he whines into the kiss and puts his hand on top of your's which is currently resting on his cheeks, after feeling like you are losing consciousness you slowly break from the kiss and rest your forehead on his "You smell like cigarettes babe." But the playfulness in his tone doesn't match his eyes this time, they are soft and hazy while gazing into your own, filled with love and affection so you simply ignore the remark and smile "I love you Toru." He reciprocates your smile while rubbing his nose onto yours and utters the words he wants to scream while he is on top of the world, so everyone can hear how much he cherishes you "I love you too baby."
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A/N: I wrote this at 3 AM so don't come at me if there a bunch of typos and stuff I was feeling affectionate c: I was craving my man's so hope ya'll feel the same cuz GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU GEGE-
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elikajinnie · 3 months
Text
Young Love | Park Seonghwa X reader
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a/n: This was posted on ao3, but now its here as well!
Genre: Fluff, minor angst, romance
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In the vibrant world of K-pop, I found myself as an ardent fan of many Korean Pop bands. But none of them could ever beat Ateez, with their visual, stage presence, and amazing songs that had stolen my heart with their infectious music. My room was adorned with posters of them, and every song, every dance move was etched into my soul. But my admiration went beyond mere fandom – it was something deeper, something that resonated in the core of my being.
Being a dedicated student, if you could call it that, I was constantly running on caffeine and energy bars, trying to finish my work for the day. My eyelids were dropping, and the words on my textbook were blurring into a spiral of letters. "Ah, I can't do this," I thought, not hesitating to grab my phone. To my surprise, multiple notifications from my friends lit up the screen. "They have been talking for a while…" I unlocked my phone and opened the group chat.
"Amanda has sent a link."
Amanda: "ATEEZ IS COMING TO OUR TOWN, GUYS."
Soojin: "Wait, really?"
Athena: "OMG! IT'S REAL!"
Amanda: "@Y/N WAKE UP."
78+ unread messages.
I clutched my phone tightly, feeling like my whole world collapsed as I read my friends' chat. "They are coming… here? I can see them?" With shaky hands, I typed in a message.
Y/n: "We have to buy tickets."
Soojin: "YEAH, NO SHIT. LET'S GET VIP, GUYS."
Athena: "Isn't that too expensive?"
Soojin: "NOTHING IS TOO EXPENSIVE FOR THE NAME OF LOVE! RIGHT Y/N!?"
I groaned at Soojin's antics. "Name of love… yeah, more like me being delusional," I thought.
Y/n: "Very funny."
Amanda: "Come on Y/n, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Soojin: "I AM CURRENTLY IN THE QUEUE, GUYS."
Athena: "You are seriously buying VIP tickets??!"
Soojin: "YES!"
I let out a sigh before putting my phone down and going on my computer to open the ticket sale. Seeing the VIP ticket's price, I cringed internally, feeling sorry for my bank account. I clicked on it, hoping the purchase would go through.
Amanda: "I GOT THE TICKETS."
Soojin: "TICKETS ARE SECURED! I GOT ONE EXTRA FOR YOU TOO, ATHENA, SO YOU HAVE TO COME!"
Athena: "Damn it. Fine. Thank you, Soojin."
Soojin: "You're welcome!"
Soojin: "Now you owe me."
Athena: "….fine."
Amanda: "Did you get yours, Y/n???"
Soojin: "????"
Athena: "Yeah, did you?"
I stared at the screen of my computer, unblinking as the words washed over me.
CONGRATS Y/N. YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY BOUGHT VIP TICKETS FOR ATEEZ. WE CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU THERE.
I glanced at my phone and tried to type in my answer with a few mistakes.
Y/n: "I got mine."
I turned off my phone and put it down, my whole body vibrating in excitement. "I'm seeing them.. I'm finally seeing them."
As the concert day drew closer, my heart raced with anticipation. I carefully selected my outfit, aiming for a perfect blend of style and allure. I wanted to exude confidence when I finally stood in front of the group that had captured my heart. My friends arrived, and we embarked on the journey to the concert, blasting Ateez's songs along the way, our excitement filling the car.
When we arrived at the venue, the sight of the long queue and the bustling crowd took my breath away. The realization that I was about to see Ateez up close made my heart flutter with a mix of nerves and exhilaration. Hours seemed to pass like minutes as we stood in line, chatting excitedly about what the night might hold.
Finally, the moment arrived. The doors opened, and the crowd surged inside. My friends and I found ourselves swept up in the sea of fans, our hearts pounding in unison with the music that echoed through the arena. The energy was electric, the anticipation palpable. "So many Atinys.. it's amazing," I thought as I was pulled along by Amanda towards the barricade, chatting with other Atiny's.
The minutes ticked by as the lights dimmed and the performance started, screams of girls and boys around resonating as screams were heard throughout the giant stage and halls. My heart skipped a beat. This was it. There they were, the idols I had admired from afar, now dancing and singing just a few feet away. My eyes darted from member to member, each one shining in their unique way. And then, my gaze locked onto him – Park Seonghwa, the one who had captured my heart from the very beginning.
I looked around and saw the immense energy resonating from the fans and started matching their energy, shaking my lightstick in rhythm to the music. My eyes closed for a minute, feeling the song. When I opened my eyes, I met the gaze of him.
Their eyes met, and in that instant, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the world faded away, leaving only Seonghwa and me in a shared moment of connection. I could feel his energy, his passion, radiating from the stage and intertwining with my own. For those fleeting seconds, it was as if we were the only two people in the universe.
But as quickly as it had begun, the gaze broke. Seonghwa had to continue his performance, his moves seamless and his voice captivating. I watched with a mix of awe and admiration, my heart still racing from our brief, intense connection. The music swelled, the lights danced, and the concert carried on, but for me, those few seconds of eye contact with Seonghwa remained etched in my memory.
The night soared by, a whirlwind of music and emotion. As the final notes of the last song echoed through the arena, I felt a bittersweet ache in my chest. The concert was over, and reality was settling in. But I knew that the night was still young.
As the lights came up and the crowd began to disperse, my friends and I exchanged excited whispers and shared smiles.
After the exhilarating concert had concluded, my friends and I found ourselves waiting anxiously in a designated area, eagerly anticipating our meeting with Ateez. The moments of anticipation seemed to stretch endlessly, but as the queue gradually lessened, my nerves started to lighten. I exchanged excited glances with my friends, our shared enthusiasm fueling our excitement.
Finally, my turn arrived to meet the members of Ateez. My heart raced as I stepped onto the podium, the space filled with the vibrant energy of my idols.
As I made my way down the line, I felt my pulse quicken when I came face to face with Kim Hongjoong. He exuded charisma and kindness, putting me at ease with his warm smile. Our conversation flowed effortlessly
, and I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for this opportunity.
Each member greeted me warmly, and I managed to have genuine conversations with all of them, laughing and sharing stories as if we were old friends. It was surreal – a dream come true that surpassed all my expectations.
But what truly caught me off guard was when I reached Seonghwa. The moment our eyes met, it was like time had folded, and we were back in that shared gaze from the concert. The connection between us was undeniable, a magnetic pull that transcended the chaos of the room around us. We spoke, our words weaving a tapestry of shared interests and laughter, as if we had known each other for years.
Throughout our conversation, I noticed that Seonghwa's eyes held an intensity that seemed to match my own feelings. It was as if he was as captivated by my presence as I was by his. Our hearts communicated through unspoken glances and shared smiles, creating a bubble of intimacy within the bustling room.
Just as I was about to leave, I felt a gentle touch on my hand. Looking down, I saw a piece of paper discreetly handed to me by Seonghwa. My heart skipped a beat as I took it, my fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. I discreetly pocketed the paper, the anticipation of what it held only adding to my excitement.
I waited for my friends to be done before excusing myself to the bathroom, ignoring their snickers.
I quickly located the bathroom and locked the door before pulling the paper from my pocket, carefully unfolding it, my heart racing as I read the message.
Seonghwa had written a simple yet powerful request – to meet him at the stage once everyone had left. My breath caught in my throat, and a mix of nerves and exhilaration surged through me. Without hesitation, I discreetly made my way to the stage, the shadows of the night concealing my movements.
As I reached the stage, I saw Seonghwa waiting for me, a soft smile on his lips. He gestured for me to follow, and we walked together in silence until we reached a small, secluded room. The air was charged with a mix of emotions – anticipation, nervousness, and an undeniable attraction.
Seonghwa motioned for me to sit, and as we settled into the quiet space, the world seemed to fall away. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, unburdened by the expectations of the outside world. We shared our dreams, our passions, our vulnerabilities, and with each passing moment, I felt myself falling deeper in love with the person I had admired from afar.
Our eyes locked once again, and with the heart eyes we exchanged, it spoke volumes. It was as if we were the only two people in existence, our connection forming an unbreakable bond. Seonghwa's hand brushed against mine, a simple touch that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire of longing within me.
As the night grew darker, our conversation continued, traversing the realm of music, dreams, and personal experiences. Time seemed to lose its grip, and it was just Seonghwa and me, two destined souls intertwined in a space where nothing else mattered.
As the hours slipped away, my heart felt both heavy and light. I had shared something profoundly intimate with Seonghwa, a connection that transcended the boundaries of fandom and reality. And as we finally bid each other farewell, I knew that the love story that had begun with a shared gaze had evolved into something deeper – a story of two hearts finding solace, comfort, and love in the midst of a bustling world.
Weeks had passed since that serendipitous night when Seonghwa and I had shared our first intimate conversation. Our connection had deepened over late-night phone calls, bridging the gap between our physical separation as Seonghwa continued on his tour. The miles between us seemed insignificant as our voices carried our emotions across the line, turning ordinary conversations into moments of shared intimacy.
But as Seonghwa's tour took him back to South Korea, the physical distance began to weigh on both our hearts. I missed him with an ache that only grew stronger with each passing day. Determined to surprise him and bridge the gap, I made a bold decision.
I booked a flight to South Korea.
My arrival in South Korea was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. As I stepped off the plane and breathed in the unfamiliar air, a mixture of excitement and anticipation filled my every step. I made my way to the Ateez dorms, as I had gotten help from San to my surprise. A swirl of emotions churned within me. When I finally arrived, I was greeted with warmth and hugs from San and Yeosang, both of whom had become familiar voices through the phone.
"Welcome, Y/n! We've heard so much about you," San exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug that made me feel instantly at ease. Yeosang joined in, his smile as genuine as ever.
After the initial excitement settled, I couldn't help but ask the question that had been on my mind since I arrived, "Where's Seonghwa?"
"He's at the company right now, but he should be back shortly," San replied with a mischievous grin. "He's going to be over the moon when he sees you."
As I waited for Seonghwa's return, I spent time bonding with San and Yeosang, our laughter filling the room. We shared stories, inside jokes, and moments that I knew I would treasure forever.
Finally, the door burst open, and Seonghwa walked in. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he took in the sight of me standing there, a radiant smile on my face. Without a second thought, he crossed the room and enveloped me in a tight embrace, his happiness palpable.
"Is this real? Am I dreaming?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief.
I laughed, my heart swelling with affection. "I'm real, Seonghwa. I wanted to surprise you." Seonghwa could only hug me tighter, spinning me around the room, our giggles filling the air.
Over the next few days, Seonghwa and I embarked on a whirlwind adventure across Seoul. We explored the streets, visited popular spots, and shared moments of quiet intimacy. One sunny day, we found ourselves sitting on a park bench, enjoying ice cream and each other's company, the sundown casting a golden glow over the bustling town.
Our conversation flowed effortlessly until an elderly couple passing by stopped in front of us. With a twinkle in their eyes, the old woman smiled and said, "You two make such a cute couple."
Seonghwa's reaction was unexpected. He chuckled nervously and quickly denied the assumption, causing a pang of disappointment to flicker within me. I quickly masked my feelings and brushed it off, but inside, doubt began to creep in.
As the day turned into night, I found myself retreating into my thoughts. I withdrew from the members' offers to eat, choosing to wallow in self-pity instead. I felt like an outsider in a world where Seonghwa was a star and I was just an ordinary person.
Unable to bear the silence any longer, Seonghwa finally pleaded for me to let him in. I hesitated before reluctantly allowing him into the spare room they had given me during my stay. As he saw my tear-stained face, his heart shattered, and he, too, was reduced to tears.
He cupped my face gently in his hands, his voice trembling as he asked, "Y/n, what's wrong?"
I looked up at him, my eyes brimming with vulnerability. "Do you… not like me? Is that why you denied us being a couple the other day?"
Seonghwa's heart ached as he realized the impact of his words. He wiped away my tears and took a deep breath, his voice steady yet laden with emotion. "No, Y/n. It's not that. It's just… I was afraid. Afraid that if I admitted my feelings, you might reject me. I never wanted to risk what we have for my feelings."
My heart swelled with a mix of relief and understanding. I reached up and gently silenced him with a kiss, shocking him. I pulled away to see his reaction, but I found that impossible as he pulled me into a deeper kiss, a soft yet profound message of requited feelings. We both laughed through our kiss, our emotions finally finding an outlet.
When we pulled away, I pulled and tackled Seonghwa onto the bed, both of us laughing.
As we cuddled on the bed, our laughter faded into hushed whispers. The air was charged with a newfound intimacy, our shared experiences deepening our connection. Seonghwa gazed into my eyes, his heart in his throat as he asked the question that had been on his mind for so long.
"Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?"
Tears welled up in my eyes once more, but this time they were tears of joy. With a radiant smile, I answered, "Yes, Seonghwa. Yes, I will."
Our lips met in a tender kiss, sealing our newfound commitment to each other. As we embraced, the weight of doubt and distance lifted, replaced by the certainty that our love story was just beginning – a love story that had transcended the boundaries of fame and ordinary life, bringing two souls together in a journey of shared moments, whispered confessions, and unbreakable love.
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