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#in fairness i did love first kill
thebroccolination · 3 months
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As someone who has never been interested in vampires, I am extremely excited for BounPrem's vampire series.
It's partially because I love BounPrem, sure, but it's mostly because I respect the amount of very professional research and preparation Boun has committed to the role over the past several years.
I just think his artistry should be honored by my diligent attention.
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Boun is a professional vampire fetishist, and that man will neck like no man has ever necked before.
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bonefall · 1 year
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So what do your leaders do all day? In the cannon clans it seems like they just sit around at camp all day and let the deputies do all of the work. Until the plot needs them anyway.
Leaders are given 9 lives for a very important purpose; they are supposed to live as their Clanmates do, understand them, and guide them as shining examples of what a warrior should be.
A leader who's inaccessible is considered a failure. Clans can't do anything about this until ASC and it's rare to begin with, but their clan WILL get upset about it.
Patrolling, sparring, hunting, and even cooking are all things a leader should be doing. Is it still very high-pressure? Yes. Ultimate authority rests on them.
So what's a deputy for?
Busywork. Day-to-day decisions that would prevent a leader from actually engaging with clan life. Setting up patrols, gathering news, settling small disputes, etc.
You could consider them a very authoritative secretary. If a Clan is being TOTALLY run by its deputy, that's a problem. If a Clan is BARELY being run by its deputy, that is also a problem.
So, expect to see cats like Firestar just around more often. It's not shocking to see him return from patrol or a little walk, carrying a mouse or two.
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joyfuladorable · 1 year
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< Prev Doodles | Next Set of Doodles >
More for Pretend that I Never Left, except this time it's all post-fic hurt/comfort and fluff scenes I couldn't stop conjuring in my head at 5AM!! uwu @redstringraven I will laugh gleefully hard if I've somehow managed to predict Anything of what you're doing for the Epilogue
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oatbugs · 2 months
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lmao looking at her insta highlights was a mistake
#i feel worse WHY DOES SHE HAVE TONED MUSCLES UGHHH#also my confidence has gone down a tiny bit bc why is she hanging out w all these cool ppl#how is this girl simultaneously a lawyer and also has her social life on max like give me a break#thered a photo of her walking around in heaven either before closing or after opening shes sooo#HOWEVER. i just had a call w her yesterday that made me realise my idea of romance is more romantic than her idea of romance#but also that she doesnt want to do smth super romancey on a 3rd date which according to my friends is fair but according to my heart#it is not. like why are u on a date if u dont wanna do anything romancey at that point just hang out w friends#odd of her to say that too considering our first two dated were quite romantic . anyway#yo this cafe is playing persian music nice. anyway yh#also she makes being middle eastern so gay yk the goodbye fake cheek kiss thing we do . where u like . kiss the air on the sides of the#persons face when ur saying goodbye. ygwim . yeah she doesnt do the fake air kisses she gives u two tender kisses like . anyway#i discussed the stuff she does w my friend and like why r her words so aloof and her actions so...not . and my friends reaction was#basically this is fuckboy behaviour. apparently he used to do that to girls ?? like tell them he rly liked them#and be all charming and romantic even tho he rly wasnt invested at all and he mostly wanted to hook up. like ok#im gonna kill myself then. why would u stroke my hair w my head on ur LAP THEN. WHAT IF SHE TURNS AROUND AND IS LIKE#oops it was nothing#....ill kms actually. no i womt. but anyway#also got added to the gc w the other lecturers givjng talks on the 6th so its getting more real#my friend was like did u do the script yet :))) . almost died shes so scary i love her . but . fuck two exams . crush. talk. ucl cambrdige#three conferences aaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAA im so anxious i dont even feel anything atp#......I HAVE NO MONEY!!! TO TOP IT OFF#my crush and i are both iranian (aka born w extremely expensive taste woven into our genes) but i wanna like#treat her w the entire 2 quid in my bank account ig ♡♡♡#crushposting
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oveliagirlhaditright · 6 months
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I had a dream that Angelus decided to keep Buffy around, because he knew that if he ever was ensouled again she was the key to release him, of course.
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battlestarbones · 4 months
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just went to rewatch a bit from the expanse TV finale and I was like "why is Holden piloting the ship?? bitch can't fly for shit!!" BECAUSE I FORGOT THEY FUCKING KILLED ALEX MY BABYGIRL MY BELOVED
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tinyjellyfishy · 1 year
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[that far off place]
See you soon me gongaga man
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shijas · 1 year
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.
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doggytail-duck · 2 years
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Calliope, I love you, but honestly, bringing your vampire girlfriend to your house that is full of monster hunters... Honey, how did you think that was gonna go?
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inkskinned · 1 year
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it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.
anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."
just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.
i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.
when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.
but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.
i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?
most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.
now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.
and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.
go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.
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gutsby · 1 month
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Abstaining Game
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.
Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.
Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’
Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)
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October 26, 2024
Dear Joel,
Roses are red,
We’re a couple of sluts,
Abstinence camp is awful,
I miss you rearranging my guts.
You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.
“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”
You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.
Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.
It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.
What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.
Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.
He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.
That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.
Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.
Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:
Dear Tommy,
Fuck you, you fucking fuck.
Sincerely,
Joel
You grinned again just thinking about it.
If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.
For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?
Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.
The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.
You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.
Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:
“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”
The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.
Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.
Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.
“On your feet, skank.”
You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.
Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.
“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.
“How kind.”
“Yeah? Certain death?”
“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.
Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.
“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.
“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”
“Oh?”
Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.
“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.
Stupidly.
“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”
That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.
“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.
“Not my brother,” you hissed.
“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.
“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”
Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.
“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.
“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.
“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.
Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.
Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.
“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”
You had to stifle a laugh.
“I am not.”
“Then explain, Cersei!”
Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.
“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.
“Uh-huh.”
“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”
“Dangerous combo.”
“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”
“Right.”
“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”
Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:
“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”
“Oh shit.”
“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”
“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”
“As you should.”
“—hold that breath in right there—”
“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”
This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.
“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.
“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”
You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.
“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”
Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:
“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”
You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,
“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”
You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,
“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”
You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.
Then you felt hands.
Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.
You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.
“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.
Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?
About damn time.
Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.
“Fucker,” you hissed.
Fucker said nothing.
Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.
“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”
You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.
In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.
“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”
A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.
“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.
Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.
“Pack your shit.”
Dude.
You spun on your heels.
“DUDE!”
Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.
It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.
“Sweetheart—”
He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.
The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?
You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.
His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.
“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”
You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.
“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”
Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.
“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”
He was seriously trying to break you out?
You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.
“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.
What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.
Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.
“Joel?” You raised a brow.
“Mm?”
The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.
His gaze was alarmingly sedate.
“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”
“Just a quickie, Miller—”
“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”
The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.
Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.
It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.
“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”
Shit.
Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.
“Joel—”
“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”
Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.
But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.
“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.
“Joel, I just—”
“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”
The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.
“It was a joke.”
No time to mince words now.
“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.
He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.
“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”
“No!”
“No?”
“No.”
For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.
Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.
“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”
When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”
With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.
“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”
You needed time to think.
“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.
But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.
“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”
His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.
Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?
You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.
“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”
You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.
“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.
“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.
You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.
At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.
His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.
Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.
“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.
This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.
Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.
But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.
You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.
You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.
Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.
Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.
Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”
Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.
The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.
It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.
Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.
Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.
Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.
“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.
You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.
Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.
“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.
Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.
Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.
“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”
When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.
“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”
Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.
“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.
But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.
You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.
“Another,” you pleaded.
“Nuh-uh.”
“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.
Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.
“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’
Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.
His expression was hard.
“Fuck my hand,” he said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.
Fuck my hand.
Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.
“Like that,” he murmured.
All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.
It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.
“Need more,” you keened.
“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.
“Yeah.”
A beat, then:
“Tough shit.”
But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.
“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.
“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.
Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.
“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”
That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.
And pleasure.
The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.
Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.
“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.
Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,
“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”
Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.
Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.
He nodded again.
Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.
After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.
“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.
“Too much?” he returned.
You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.
“Too soon?” he tried again.
“I—”
“Too fast?”
“N—”
“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.
There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.
You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.
“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.
“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”
Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.
“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.
Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.
“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”
Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.
“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.
“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.
When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.
“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.
Joel watched you with careful eyes.
“Yeah? And Tess?”
“Joel—”
“Or Tommy.”
“I don’t—”
“Everyone else?”
Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.
Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.
In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?
You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.
Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.
“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.
“But you did,” you panted.
Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.
Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.
He was a lot like you in that way.
You kept kissing him anyway.
The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.
All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.
“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.
You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.
In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.
“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.
“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”
Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’
You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.
Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.
Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.
“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”
Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’
Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.
He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.
Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.
“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
His face softened.
“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”
He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.
“Say that you’re mine.”
No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.
Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?
The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.
The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.
It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.
Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.
His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.
He kissed your hairline and hummed.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”
His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.
“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.
He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,
“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”
“But—”
“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”
His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.
“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.
You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.
“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.
You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.
Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.
Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:
“Joel!”
“That’s right.”
Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.
“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.
You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’
Oh.
Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.
Your legs were wet.
The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.
You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.
You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.
Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?
“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.
You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.
In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.
Where was that wetness coming from?
You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—
“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.
Your first instinct was to make a face.
That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?
“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.
Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.
“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”
Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.
Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.
Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.
“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”
You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.
And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.
Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.
“‘M’sorry,” he said.
Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,
“You did great.”
He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“So good.”
When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.
“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”
“What?”
Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.
“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”
At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.
He didn’t.
The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.
“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”
You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.
“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”
Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.
“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”
Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.
Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.
You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.
But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.
“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.
“No!”
“I’m not—”
“He’s from the other camp.”
“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”
You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.
“I’m—we’re—” he started.
“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”
She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.
But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.
Then laugh.
Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.
Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.
“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.
“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.
Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.
“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:
“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”
Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.
And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.
“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”
2K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 26 days
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me n my dumbasses | charles leclerc x fem! driver! reader x pierre gasly
summary; just f1’s fave ‘childhood besties to lovers’ throuple being iconic
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; cursing i think
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; requested !
masterlist !
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and others !
yourusername: average day w the most stupid people in all of france ( and monaco ) (( i unfortunately have dealt with them my whole life and i also unfortunately love them ))
tagged; pierregasly, charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc: but pierre was first in ur last photo dump ☹️
pierregasly: mate you almost killed us …😀
charles_leclerc: NOT MY FAULT YOU’RE BOTH GOOD LOOKING?? also did you just mate zone me?
yourusername: think abt ur actions of almost killing ur bf and gf , charles leclerc.
charles_leclerc: yes ma’am🫡
username: CHAPIEY/N DUMPPP
username: leave it up to y/n to post the most bf pics of them 😫
username: i’d kill to have dealt w them my whole life miss y/n UR LUCKYY😖
username: charles is so real for almost crashing his ferrari bc y/n and pierre looked toooo good 😭
yourusername: yeah well now he’s in the timeout corner ://
charles_leclerc: this is NOT fun
pierregasly: #deserved
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yourusername uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; #inspectingpierresform🤓] [caption 2; complaining that i’m taking pics instead of working out 🙄🙄 #tattletale] [caption 3; wauw hot boys]
landonorris gross
landonorris dumbasses
yourusername hey 😾
yourusername they’re MY dumbasses 😪
pierregasly “pleaseee can i work out with you guys 🥺🥺”
yourusername i didn’t want to break a nail🙁🙁
pierregasly you’re so high maintenance
yourusername u have known me since 2011 WHY are u shocked
yourusername u both made me like this btw
pierregasly and we don’t regret it a bit, cherie 😁
charles_leclerc i see u liked our selfie from when u went to the bathroom to put makeup on before filming tiktoks😁
yourusername wanted to look cute for the camera and for my dumbasses can u blame a girl😖
charles_leclerc DUMBASSES?? i’m smart , pierre maybe but not me !
yourusername oh babe
yourusername u both are ! but it’s ok i love u both💓
charles_leclerc yeah yeah we love u too
username LMAOOOO THEYRE SO😭
username pierre’s ‘mom i threw up’ stance 💀
username never stop these queen
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and others !
yourusername: just me n my dumbasses against the world ❤️‍🩹
tagged; charles_leclerc, pierregasly
charles_leclerc: love u too dumbass xx
yourusername: u see i get why I called u a dumbass but why are u calling me a dumbass? do u hate me??☹️☹️
charles_leclerc: cherie no wait pls
pierregasly: im surprised you still fall for her lame sarcasm even if we’ve been dealing w her since 2011🙄
yourusername: hey RUDE ur the ones who wanted ME first 😾😾
yourusername: sorry for worrying u pooks love u xx charles_leclerc
pierregasly: love u dumbass 😪😪
yourusername: ur more of a dumbass than me
carlossainz55: can we confirm that charles is the biggest one out of you three ??
pierregasly: oh 100%😂
charles_leclerc: THATS NOT EVEN FAIR??😀
georgerussell63: idk man, i’ve received 394829 messages from y/n about being scared you’re going to burn the house down from making toast…😬😬
username: i love how they never had a honey moon phase it’s just straight bullying w a side of love 😭😭😭
username: childhood besties to lover core fr
username: THEHRE NEVER SERIOUS IM IN TEARSSSSSS
username: the pure unseriousness from chapiey/n is why i adore them sm😭😂
username: reason 92893 i adore them;
username: when the trio suddenly becomes romantic
username: u guys ever think y/n’s like ‘kissing my homies’ 🤔🤔
charles_leclerc: yes actually …..
yourusername: me n my homies doing romantic stuffs 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨
username: just clocked in y/n dealt w their awkward phases
yourusername: ‘twas hell
pierregasly: like teenage u was any better 🙄
username: ‘my dumbasses’ i love them😖
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lbcreations-blog · 3 months
Text
Yandere Alastor with daughter reader
A Stag and his Fawn
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(Not proof read cause I'm tired but I need to post)
Masterlist
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Alastor was your adoptive father. He adopted you when you were both still alive. You were only a baby at the time, being left in a dumpster.
When Alastor was dumping bodys in the dumpster he found you, he was originally going to put you in a foster home, but when he saw you open your eyes and look at him seeming at peice, he knew it was a bad idea to put you in any foster home.
Of course, he could not just take you in. He had to get you some medical treatment. So he took you to the nearest hospital to get a check-up and other things. Then he had to do even more other things like birth certificate and adoption stuff. (You know, the essentials)
Anyways, once you were old enough, he taught you his ways of voodoo and murder. (You were already learning from about 4, lmao), and you became a perfect daughter to him (even though you were already perfect to him).
If you were to get bullied in school, those kids would regret it. He would also teach those kids' parents a lesson as well.
If you end up dying before him from it being someone's fault, he would torture that person/persons and eat that person's corpse.
Once he enters hell, he would search for you while aswell becoming a terrifying overlord. And once he finds you, he would pretend you are not his daughter in public so you would not get targeted. He knows you can look after yourself so he would let you in public by yourself, but a shadow will follow you.
But if you are an overlord, he wouldn't admit being your father, but he will treat you like his daughter in public, and he will let others' theories flow. (Overlord or not, a shadow will follow you, btw)
Now, if he dies first, he will patiently wait for you. You, of course, kill the one who mistakes your father for a deer. You then live life how he wanted you to, until you finally arrive in hell.
Once you arrive in hell, he ether will take a while to find you or find you quickly. If you quickly become an overlord just like him, he would be proud, like you have no idea.
(The ways he is with you in hell is the same as I explained in the first death choice.)
Of course, introducing you to people as Alastors' daughter, you will get interesting reactions.
The overlords would be shocked, to say the least, Carmila might like Alastor slightly more cause she has her own daughters.
Now the hotel's reactions ig
Of course, the entire hotel is shocked except for niffty and husk cause yall already probably met (I would tell you that, but that's a different kind of worm)
Anyway, sir pentious would be most likely terrified of you or just won't admit it.
Angel- well, Angel-... he's probably going to start off with sex jokes, and how unfair it is that some random bitch got to fuck Alastor. Your father was not happy.
Vaggie is very suspicious of you once you met. She knew how your father was, so you were not trustworthy. (Which was fair, you showed that same creepy smile your father did)
Charlie loved meeting you. She was and is so happy that Alastor has a daughter and she is and was happy to meet you. She was hoping to help you get redeemed, but you just told her you would rather be in hell with your father.
--------_______--------
I was going to make Alastor more yandere but because of 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠, he's like that, ok? OK
I did get lazy at the end, so... Yyyeeeaaaa
Hope you enjoyed it
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- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
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atinystraynstay · 4 months
Text
I Don't Share - Jeon Jungkook
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Synopsis: Jungkook was the one that proposed you should be friends with benefits. You both were single and had desires. Falling in love wasn't a part of the plan though.
Pairing: Idol!Jeon Jungkook x Back up Dancer!fem reader
Genre: Smuttttt! Jealous, posessive Jungkook, friends with benefits - Minors DNI
Contains: public sex, mentions of eating out (f. receiving), light spanking (f. receiving), no protection vaginal sex, slight degradation, creampie, hair pulling
Word Count: 2.6k
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You were given the opportunity of a lifetime. What started as a way to kill time during the pandemic quickly turned into you flying to South Korea to join BTS in their rehearsals for their Permission To Dance shows. A little over a year later, you were in rehearsals again for Jungkook's solo promotions with the release of his debut album, Golden. You didn't think your life could get better than this.
Never before would you think that your dance studio closing to meet shutdown requirements would grant you the opportunity of a lifetime. Or that you would meet the guy of your dreams.
Jungkook was around your age, so it was easy for you two to get along. You often would spend late nights going over and over the dance routine for performances and the filming of upcoming music videos. His manager would often ask if he wanted a ride home, but Jungkook would always come up with an excuse.
"No, I'm ok. I want to make sure my hyungs are proud of me when they can finally see this!" Which often made the staff smile that he wanted to make his members proud.
Another one often was along the lines of - "No, thank you though. I am just stuck on this one part of the choreography and I think I'm finally getting it down. I will call security to make sure I get home." He promised every single time to use the resources at the company, but he never did.
He always opted to take Uber rides with you. At first, it was because Jungkook liked being able to talk to someone around his age. He had a solid group of friends, but you were new. Coming from the United States, he wanted to know what it was like to be a 20-something-year-old making it work.
The two of you often shared after practices drinks and meals. "You know, we have to nourish our bodies well. Jin-hyung taught me that well."
Quickly though, his hunger turned into something else. Getting to know you, getting to watch how your hips moved with ease, he began to grow hungry for your pussy. Jungkook was a very competitive guy, and he was determined to be the best at fucking you until you see the stars. He wanted to make you cum and scream until you forgot your name, until you questioned your ability to walk after.
Meals quickly turned into eating you out at your apartment. To be fair, it was his favorite meal of the day. He loved getting down on his knees for you, spreading them wide, and exposing you to him. Only or him. He often liked to blow cool air on your pussy to watch you squirm underneath his touch.
Jungkook thrived on knowing the reaction he could pull out of you. He liked knowing you whimpered and begged for him to lick your pussy, to suck on your clit as if his life depended on it. And if you begged well, he would reward you by sliding two of his fingers into your pussy.
Dance practices weren't the only reason why he would come over. If a recording session didn't go well, you offered comfort by letting him bend you and pound into your pussy. Afterwards, you would always talk about how he was feeling but you quickly learned that Jungkook preferred letting his frustrations out physically rather than verbally at first.
There were just a few more performances left for the group. Everyone knew that Jungkook would be enlisting soon, so nobody was taking it for granted. Every dance, every member of the crew, and Jungkook himself were basically putting their all into every dance practice, dress rehearsal, and performance.
You were currently sitting criss-cross on the dance practice floor, your water bottle resting in your lap. Your thumb moved your TikTok FYP up every once in a while. There was a 30 minute break, allowing some people to go grab lunch while others were taking a minute to just relax.
"So, y/n, did you know someone here in Korea before you moved?"
There was often conversation floating among the dancers. Down time and hanging outside of practice were opportunities to get to know one another, and do a little networking. With the days narrowing down on this contract, you were beginning to consider your options. Part of you wanted to go back home, to reunite with family, but you also were having the time of your life here.
Hearing your name, you locked your phone and set it on the floor. There were a few others who joined you on the floor, in their own worlds until the current conversation started. You felt all eyes on you as the question was directed to you.
"No, I actually didn't," You laughed. A year ago, you never would have had the courage to move across the world by yourself. Being here now, you knew it was the best decision. "So a good dancer, a risk taker, beautiful," one of the male dancers began to list.
You blushed at the compliment. One thing that has changed is your struggle to accept compliments. You knew he meant well, but it didn't stop you feeling as if your face had gotten incredibly hot.
"You've got to have a partner, right? Meet someone here in Korea? I mean, Korean men know how to treat you right," he winked.
You heard one of the female dancers scuff. She rolled her eyes at his words, shaking her head towards the two of you. "Don't listen to him. Stay away from Korean men," she warned before going back to eat her salad.
"You're just upset still about your breakup," he muttered. Quickly, that was followed by a loud smack and laughter from the other members. You watched the one male rub his tender arm, apologizing to the woman to his right. Satisfied, she nodded in acknowledgement before going back to her lunch.
The male looked back at you, smiling sheepishly. "Anyways, are you single?" He asked. "You've never met up with us after practice for a quick drink."
Yeah, I normally can't go out because I'm getting railed by Jungkook after practice.
"Maybe she has a boyfriend back home?"
Decided to speak to yourself, you laughed as a way to break the conversation. Eager eyes were on you, wanting to know more about their American colleague.
"That's my bad for not showing face after practice. I normally get tired and want to go home. Sometimes I'm even here practicing a bit more just to make sure I'm as good as you all. I mean, you guys are professionals."
The group smiled wide at your kind words. You weren't sure how you'd fit in as an outsider, especially if you weren't sure if you were going to be staying or not. At the start of this job, you placed a huge amount of pressure to do well especially as you knew that so many people would do anything to be in your position. You wanted the company to be satisfied that they chose the right person.
"Well, now that it's known that we want you here. You are coming out with us tomorrow night." "Yes, you have to! We'll have to show you around the best parts of Seoul." "And hopefully get you with the best guy." "Or at least go home with the best guy."
Your cheeks turned pink again, which caused all the whole group to smile. How could life get any better?
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The sun had already set by the time you got done with practice. Most of the group had left for the evening whereas you were packing up your duffle bag with all your belongings. While you were very much looking forward to tomorrow night, you always loved a night-in to yourself.
You couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook would want to come over.
"You know, you really should be leaving here by yourself," a voice called out to you.
Startled, you looked over your shoulder to see Jungkook leaning against the practice room door. Speak of the devil. You placed one hand over your chest as your racing heart began to settle, very slowly that is.
"God, you fucking scared me."
He let out a laugh before coming into the room. You only could tell how he was moving by the sound of his laughter growing louder. "Sorry, doll, I couldn't help myself," he apologized. You hummed in amusement as you had your back turned towards him, trying to get the rest of your belongings together so you could leave. Because if he was ready to go, that meant that you were to.
You felt his hand ghost over your hip. Zipping up the duffle bag, you slowly stood up straighter to feel him right behind you. His lips hovered over the shell of your ear, feeling his hot breath against it. You shivered from the effect and with excitement.
"You seem to really be finding your place here," he said.
His voice was very smooth. He knew the effect he had on you, how you were basically wrapped around his finger. And he used it to his advantage. You were a bit confused as to where this was coming from.
"I mean, I overheard you making plans with the other dancers. I think that's good for you." His hand gently caressed your hip, the touch light as a feather. You were almost in a trance from it all. Just feeling his body heat radiate into your back sent a wave of warmth throughout you.
"But there is one thing I do not like." You were about to look over at him, but were cut off when his grip on you tightened. He yanked you back so you could feel his boner right up against his ass. You gasped in surprise which caused him to chuckle lightly. The laugh sending shivers done your spine. "I don't like sharing, angel."
Everything happened so suddenly. One minute, you were getting your duffle bag, the next you were being pinned against the mirrors of the dance studio. Jungkook's grip was tight enough to inform you he was in charge here, but loose enough to slip out if you felt uncomfortable. Yet, his gaze locked on you told you to stay put.
His breathing was a bit rigid, sensing emotions were coursing through his body. What was on his mind? You noticed his jaw was a bit clenched, almost as if he was contemplating what he was doing or his next move.
"Let me make it clear. You are not going home with anyone else besides me. You'll always come back to me."
Oh god, he overheard your conversation earlier. It was starting to make sense.
"I'll have to remind you if that's an issue." "Then mark me up and make me yours."
Jungkook's breathing hitched hearing you. He wasn't expecting such a response from you but it made him so damn weak. God, you were the death of him.
Not one to back down, he accepted your challenge.
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Smack.
You whimpered loudly at the feeling of Jungkook's hand meeting your left asscheek. It was like an electric jolt. A bit painful, considering he has spanked you repeatedly throughout the evening, but also pleasurable because it made you feel alive. It honestly made you feel powerful.
Jungkook had you on your hands and knees. You were at the dance studio. You knew everyone had left but the thrill of someone potentially catching the two of you turned you on.
With one hand staying on your hip, Jungkook's other hand ran up your spine gently. His touch was still a stark contrast to the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaking pussy. Each smack against your ass caused your walls to squeeze around his cock, sending the two of you into a chorus of moans.
His hips rammed into you from behind. It created a rhythmic sound of skin slapping, the two of you moaning, and how wet you were. The last sound caused your cheeks to heat up, much to Jungkook's satisfaction.
The hand on your spine gathered your hair. You were grateful you put it in a low ponytail during practice earlier. Jungkook pulled your head, causing you to hiss in response. The sweet sting of your hair being pulled made you crave more. The sudden movement also caused your eyes to become a bit glossy. Your head tilted back as you met his in the reflection of the mirror.
"Look at you," Jungkook asked. His mouth was curled into a sinister smirk. "You're crying over my cock. Is it not enough for you, hmm? Is that why you wanna go out to meet other guys?"
"No, Jungkook, fuck," he panted out. "You're all I want, all I need." "Oh yeah? Prove it. Cum on my cock. Show me that I really am the only one that can make you feel so damn good."
If it were possible, Jungkook increased his pace. You cried out in pleasure as the intensity of his brutal thrusting caused your arms to give out. You upper half of your body rested against the cool wood floor, causing your ass to move a bit up. Jungkook groaned in appreciation for the change. He couldn't help himself. Smack.
Your mind was hazy. You couldn't comprehend anything besides Jungkook's cock filling and stretching you out. Your vision was getting blurry from the tears beginning to fall as you felt that familiar tingling, warm sensation in your stomach.
In a matter of moments, your vision went white and your toes curled. You screamed out his name. His grip on your hips could be burned into your skin. You never wanted him to stop touching you. Jungkook groaned as his thrusts got harder, determined to meet you at your high. The world around you seemed to stand still while your head was in the clouds.
After a few more thrusts, Jungkook let out a loud groan. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, which sent you into a whimpering mess at the feeling. You felt so content. He also felt content seeing some of his cum spilling out of your pussy once he began to pull out.
He swore you've never looked more beautiful. All his.
Lips were being pressed against your spine. You didn't even register that your body had sprawled out onto the wooden surface until Jungkook gently moved you. Your head rested on his chest, your back on the floor. His hand ran up and down your lower back. His other hand reached up to wipe away any of your remaining tears.
You were bringing brought down to reality. You could register the sound of you two heavy breathing, the slight tremors of your body starting to subside. With your head pressed into Jungkook's chest, you could hear his once racing heart beat begin to steady itself.
"You won't forget about me, right?" "How could I ever forget about you?"
There was a pause. Jungkook was the type to usually have a response, or do something in response to what was said to him. Not this time.
You looked up at him, concerned as you knew something was bothering him. Unfortunately, you got confirmation when you were met with his own glossy eyes.
"Look, I know a lot is going to change over 18 months. I don't care if you stay here in Korea or you go back home. I don't like sharing, y/n, so just promise not to forget about me because I'll come back to you. Every single damn time." "I could never forget about you, Jeon Jungkook. I'll be waiting for you, regardless of what happens next."
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wileys-russo · 2 months
Note
Matildas content has me in a chokehold for my fav aussie girlies! Would you consider something with kyra x r where the girls notice how easily r stops kyra’s annoying little sister behavior (rip mother steffy) maybe something along the lines of r being sleepy and Kyra being loud, a little “baby, im tired” and kyra’s basically 🤐 and the girls are just like this is all we needed for her to not be a menace lol!
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around her little finger II k.cooney-cross x reader
"mate she's killing me, i really don't know how you put up with her." caitlin grumbled with a huff, shoving kyra away who tickled at the back of her neck with a grin, all of you exhausted after a long day of travel.
"patience and practice." you smiled bumping your shoulder into the older girls who sighed and grabbed her bag, heading into the hotel before kyra could catch her.
there wasn't a need though as of course kyra's attention was on her most favourite person to annoy, steph.
"kyra get off you rat!" steph laughed, shoving kyra away where she tried to clamber onto her back, smacking the younger girl in the back of the head as she reached for her bags.
"ow! babe did you see that? she abused me." your girlfriend turned to you with a pout. "baby you abuse her on a daily basis, you asked for it." you patted her cheek softly as steph laughed loudly in her face and slung an arm over you.
"and this is why you're my favourite child." steph sighed happily as you shot your girlfriend a grin over the older girls shoulder whose pout had shifted into a grumpy scowl as she grabbed her bags and yours.
"not fair! you've known each other longer." kyra grumbled moodily, steph having played alongside you since your very first pro season in the a-leagues, having taken you under her wing from day one. "i'm also significantly more tolerable than you ky." you teased as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and mocked you under her breath.
"thats the understatement of the century." steph agreed with a hum, yelping as kyra kicked at the back of her legs and sent her stumbling forward nearly taking you down with her. "kyra!" steph growled as your girlfriend beamed and sprinted into the hotel.
"you can do so much better than her, you know that right?" steph sighed taking your face in her hands as you rolled her eyes. "you love us together stephanie don't lie, you meddled about to get us with one another in the first place!" you wagged a finger as she grinned and let you go.
"i do, i really do. she might be a massive pain in the ass but you two are adorable together!" steph cooed and pinched your cheek as the two of you stepped inside the lobby.
"yeah and you've got her on a leash! whipped." you turned around at the new voice as your face lit up. "lani!" you launched at the taller girl, wrapping yourself around her in a hug as the defender squeezed you tightly.
"no longer wanting to punch me now are we baby t?" the blonde teased as she dropped you back to your feet and you pushed her shoulder with a scoff. "one; i hate that nickname. two; it was a dirty tackle and you deserved a yellow!" you warned as the older girl simply grinned and pulled you into her side, the two of you catching up as you wandered toward check in.
"also you might hate it but you're branded with that nickname for life now." alanna warned patting your head as you pushed her away, the nickname in general being a shortened version of 'baby tillie' which you'd earned the day you rocked up for your first senior camp at only fifteen with boots one size too big and your training bib on backwards.
you made your way around saying your hello's, your girlfriend waiting patiently by check in with your bags at her feet already having said her greetings.
"so you finally did it then?" steph looked up and her face broke out into a grin at the sight of hayley, embracing the shorter girl in a very tight hug. "did what?" steph frowned a little as hayley nodded over her shoulder toward kyra who was watching you with a lovesick pining stare.
"oh yes! finally manipulated them both into admitting their feelings for one another." steph smiled victoriously, you and kyra only having been officially together for a few months now after clearly crushing mutually for years.
"i give it a couple more weeks till she gets sick of that." hayley grinned, nodding to kyra who had grown bored of waiting for you, now wrapped around caitlin trying to pull her into a headlock.
"oh that isn't a problem with them. in fact, its a solution! just you wait."
~
sure enough, the others didn't need to wait long to see just what steph meant.
with word of you and kyra spreading rapidly around the team it wasn't long until the teasing started which you just brushed off with a roll of your eyes and a smile.
kyra however took the opposite approach, bragging on and on about how much you were whipped for her and how you were the biggest 'simp' she'd ever met, a charming recount which really no one but kyra actually believed.
after a grueling morning of fitness testing in the hot abu dhabi sun and everyone was cooling down in the ice baths prepared by the coaching staff, protein shakes in hand as time was spent catching up.
"on your left darlin." you looked up with a grin as ellie jumped in beside you, inhaling with a slight hiss at the change in temperature and clenching her top in her teeth, slowly sinking down into the freezing water.
"well well well if isn't little miss le clean sheet!" you teased with a smirk, ellie shoving your head to the side as the media team started their rounds with the mini mic having already cautioned everyone about camp content being needed.
"who would play you in a movie about your life?" you oohed as it was your turn, ellie already answering as you paused to think about your own. "natalie portman?" you laughed, unable to really think of an answer.
"you wish!" ellie scoffed with a grin, a few of the other girls adding onto the teasing as you mocked them and pulled a face. "because you look so much like margot robbie!" you threw back at alanna whose face dropped as your girlfriend hopped into the ice bath with her.
"fuck off kyra!" the blonde groaned, shoving her away as kyra stuck her finger in her ear with a grin. "anyone else want to babysit?" alanna grumbled, huffing and smacking the midfielder who continued to poke and prod at her.
"ky!" your girlfriend paused to look over her shoulder toward you as you raised an eyebrow.
no further words needing to be said the brunette sank down a little deeper into the water, sipping on her shake and stopping pestering alanna who looked on in surprise as you returned to your conversation with ellie and claire.
hayley got to see everything first hand a little later in the day, everyone gathering together for a session in the gym now it was a little cooler and everyone had eaten lunch.
"kyra! you're fucking killing me here." caitlin groaned as the girl clung onto her leg like a child, refusing to let go so she could continue her workout. "kyra please go finish your own reps, burn off some energy or something." steph tried with a roll of her eyes as kyra ignored her and continue to cling on.
a few others tried but kyra just ignored them, caitlin trying desperately to shake her off and even threatening to drop a weight on her head had no effect on the midfielder.
"mini man help me out!" caitlin whined pointing to kyra as katrina held her hands up. "she doesn't listen to me!" the older woman laughed, knowing the younger girls willingness to annoy others much out drove her willingness to listen to them.
"ky, can you spot me please?" you appeared suddenly with a drink bottle in hand, kyra dropping from caitlins leg and immediately jumping up to her feet, following loyally after you like a puppy.
"well, would seem she does listen to someone." hayley scoffed, all of the girls bar steph's faces written with shock, watching as kyra raced off to fill your water up for you after loading up the bench press insisting you not touch a thing until she returned.
"see? told you ras, baby t's got her wrapped right round her little finger." steph smirked somewhat proudly, the girls all shaking their heads and returning to their own workouts, kyra hovering protectively above you watching like a hawk as you did your lifts.
~
if word spread quickly about you and kyra just simply finally being together, it spread even faster about just what an impact and a grip you seemed to have over the rambunctious midfielder and her pestering antics.
"no way! she's that much of a pain." mackenzie scoffed in disbelief at alanna's words about what happened in the gym yesterday and in the ice baths, caitlin adding in several experiences of her own from back in london.
like the time kyra was caught tying katie's shoes together and with one disappointed sigh from you she immediately untied them and raced to katie with an apology.
or the time she wouldn't stop spraying alessia with her water bottle for the entire training until suddenly you were thirsty and she was barreling over toward the taps to fill up about five of them which were ran right over to you.
or the time she stacked up a whole heap of the big black foam training blocks to prove to teyah she could in fact touch the roof.
but with one mention of her name and a raised eyebrow from you, the midfielder was clambering down and putting the blocks back, showering your face with apologetic kisses as you scolded her and warned she could have been seriously hurt had she fallen.
"you are lying! look at her she's a menace." mackenzie rolled her eyes pointing to where kyra was currently rolling around on the rec room floor wrestling with charli as teagan egged them on.
"what are we talking about then?" you hopped over the back of the couch they were sat on, wedging yourself between alanna and mackenzie. "comfortable?" the blonde raised an eyebrow as you tucked yourself into her side and stretched your legs out over mackenzies lap.
"very, thank you lanz." you grinned patting her knee as the older girl rolled her eyes affectionately but moved her arm to drape across you. "how you've got kyra wrapped round your little finger." caitlin chuckled in answer to your previous question.
"oh yeah, absolutely." you nodded with a serious expression as mackenzie scoffed. "there is no way, she's too much of a stubborn pest to listen to anyone." the goalkeeper shook her head as you shrugged, unbothered by the disbelief.
"game of uno?"
"ha! draw four, again." alanna smirked toward mackenzie who was fuming, yanking another four cards up and mumbling angrily under her breath.
"relax mac you're gonna burst a blood vessel in your forehead, at your age that could cause some serious winkle damage." you teased, both you and caitlin down to one card each as poor mackenzie now had at least twelve.
"unless you would like me to hang you upside down by your ankles again, shut it." the older girl warned seriously as you held hands up in defence. "that was so good i've gotta find the video of that again." alanna snickered as you pinched her leg with a glare.
"i didn't even deserve it considering i was framed and both of you knew and didn't say anything!" you huffed at the memory of the goalkeeper indeed hanging you upside down by your ankles when she thought you'd put honey in her gloves.
but really it was of course a much younger sam who didn't even come to your defence as you swore black and blue it wasn't you, mackenzie only letting you down when your face went bright red since the blood had rushed to your head.
"i said i was sorry and i threw sam in the ice bath, don't be a baby about it." mackenzie shrugged finally getting alanna back with a draw four of her own. "you never said sorry!" you argued with a scowl which quickly turned to a victorious smirk as you slapped down your final card with a whoop of success.
"three in a row, unbeatable." you grinned happily, all three girls around you moaning in annoyance and throwing their cards down. "i'm tapping out, leaving as a winner you know?" you flexed with a confident smile.
"goodnight!" you hurried to dart out of the way of alanna's hand which grabbed for your top as you wiggled your fingers at them over your shoulder.
your girlfriend in the meantime was on a winning streak of her own only it wasn't just her opponents whose nerves she was rapidly grating as she sat on a beanbag playing mario kart, yelling and jeering and poking at poor steph who was stuck in dead last.
"nah this is rigged! what have you done to it?" she shot the brunette beside her a fierce glare as kyra let out an over dramatic evil laugh causing a few heads to turn to her with scowls of annoyance at her volume in the shared space.
picking up on the rapidly frosty mood building in the room and not wanting your girlfriend to make too many enemies on her first night, as kyra crossed the finish line in first you decided to step in.
"ha! loser loser looser." kyra leapt up and chanted repeatedly at steph beside her who scowled and threw the remote onto the now vacant beanbag beside her as kyra continued with her obnoxious celebrations.
"anyone else game enough to face the champ?" the midfielder smiled smugly looking around the room but clearly missing the looks of disdain thrown back at her, even charli looking ready to call it a night.
"nobody? everyone too chicken?" kyra made a loud squawking noise and grinned. "just go to bed kyra! you are giving everyone a headache." caitlin groaned from the sofa as your girlfriend started to argue.
"ky." your hand grabbed softly at her bicep, cutting her off mid sentence as she looked to you with a raised eyebrow, the brunette now consumed entirely in giving you whatever you wanted.
"baby, i'm tired. lets head up?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, kyra nodding and immediately tossing the controller onto the beanbag without another word, grabbing your hand and following you right out of the room.
"see? around. her. little. finger!" caitlin smirked at the look of utter shock on mackenzie's face, most of the team looking on in surprise at yet again just how easily kyra would bend over backwards to meet your needs.
"ow! what the hell was that for?" steph huffed as hayley dropped down in the beanbag beside her and handed her one of the abandoned controllers.
"for not getting them together sooner!"
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