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#lmao holy fuck this got away from me
smol-tired-binch-blog · 7 months
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Sometimes I think I must consume media wrong because I don't remember The Lottery by Shirley Jackson fucking me up
Like sure I read it and was like 'wait hang on, what- oh dear.' but I didn't have the 'Dude That Was So Fucked Up I Am Fundamentally Changed As A Person' experience everyone else apparently had
And that ain't a flex btw this ain't a "oh I can read the most fucked up stuff and feel NOTHING" kinda bullshit I just. Wasn't that deeply affected lmao
#but also i got a B in English Literature A Level so I must be doing somethin right lmao#smol speaks#im trying to think why it didnt really mess with me. it wasnt a 'shocking twist' it's Where The Story Went to me#then again i dont remember many specifics from when i was younger. hell i barely remember the last week. i do know we read it though#i dont remember what conclusions i reached or what we even discussed. however i CAN think of a story that did affect me as a kid:#Lola Rose by Jacqueline Wilson. I read it in primary school and have reread it multiple times. i felt such a connection with Lola Rose#she was so similar to me even though we also had differences (her fear and hatred of sharks vs my love of them) (though her fear made sense#i dont think ive ever empathized with a character so much. and that book introduced me to the concept of abusive parents i think.#the idea of a parent who didnt simply love you but sometimes went about it wrong or made mistakes. but one who *actively* hurt their family#rereading that book again as an adult is heartbreaking ESPECIALLY the 'Voice of Doom' sections which *holy fuck i relate to*. there's such#dread and fear in that book but luckily there is hope and joy!! but God above the shit that girl deals with. anyway maybe reading a story#about a weird festival that ends with a stoning doesnt hit as hard when youve read about a girl seeing the bruises on her mother's chest#in the bath and having to tell her 5 year old brother they ran away from Dad because he hurt Mum and his response is 'but she deserves it'#abuse mention#better tag that huh. yeah sorry i put half the post in the tags again GOD i should make an actual Lola Rose post
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jjklvr9 · 3 months
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𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
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-> 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.
18+ minors dni !!
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: smut, oneshot
warnings: dom jungkook, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, do let me know if i missed anything!
wc: 2.2k
a/n: this is a one-shot i wrote a like yearssss ago lmao, its been up on AFF but i wanted to post it here too! it's a little bit rushed but i hope you still enjoy <3
“What are you staring at? Come on, dance with us!” a high-pitched female voice broke you apart from your long thoughts. It was a Friday night- meaning everybody would be heading over to the club, going wild and getting themselves wasted. Your two best friends along with their boyfriends forcefully made you, the only one left single pringle and too-awkward-to-mingle- to tag along with them to the club tonight. Not that you had any other plans that night but being your boring awkward self, you didn’t really like to go out to these sorts of things. It was rather too loud and crowded for your liking, making you feel all breathless and weak.
“Hey, come on!” one of your beloved best friends called out to you again, her body still grinding ever so roughly onto her boyfriend’s. Your lips curved into a slight smile and you shook your head, indicating that you were just alright sitting there all by yourself and watching them have their fun. Empty glasses and drinks were scattered all over the table yet of course- your glass was left untouched. No, you were certainly not planning on getting home wasted and getting a hangover the next morning. It was too much to bear with and you had no time to deal with those ilks of things. You leaned your back onto the sofa, your eyes observing the much-crowded place when suddenly- a lonesome-looking guy sitting on the sofa next to your group caught your attention. He was like me too, you thought as the young man was just sitting there, his back resting onto the sofa as well.
Without any hesitance, you decided to head your heels over to his side and probably make a new friend by the end of the night. As you got yourself closer to him, you finally saw his facial features clearly and holy shit- he was one fine young man. “Uhm, hey.” You slowly greeted him, only to be responded with a confused look written on his face. “Do I know you?” His voice. It was husky as you thought it would be and damn, you found that to be hella attractive. “No.. but I want to know you..?” With that he lets out a soft chuckle past his lips, none of it with any sarcasm. The male pats the space beside him, scooting away slightly to let you sit down. “Thanks.” You murmured, placing your hands on your bare thighs. Now that you were sitting down beside a guy you never met- you felt like your dress was too short and was getting shorter by the second you were breathing. It was showing off your thighs and it barely covered your upper thigh. A single misstep could lay everything bare.
“So, alone?” he asks with a smile, breaking the chain of thoughts in your head. “Uhm- no, my friends and their boyfriends are on the dance floor.” Again, he chuckles. “Same goes for me. Want a drink?” “Uh-no! it’s okay. I’ve had too many.” You lied; not wanting to sound like you were still sober and fresh in a fucking club. That would be really lame and quite embarrassing. “Well, what’s your name?” he asks, his dark orbs meeting yours making you look away and blush. If looks could kill- you’d be dead.
“Y/N”
“Jungkook.” he replies, a smile curving up the corner of his lips.
“Well then Jungkook.” 
Before you could proceed with your words, you were interrupted by a group of inebriated individuals stumbling around, likely to be Jungkook's friends. You felt like you shouldn’t be intruding them as you were nothing but a mere stranger, not even waiting for Jungkook to say anything and scurried back to sit on your sofa alone.
Well- it wasn’t entirely your best friend’s fault that you were left all alone. They did invite you up to the dance floor but you were just too lazy. You were not in the mood for random sweaty strangers having their bodies pressed against yours while they utter nonsense to your ears. As time passed, you stole quick glances at the adjacent sofa, hoping to find the young man, but to your disappointment, he was no longer there. You found yourself trying to look for him everywhere when a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist lightly.
“I’m here. Sorry about just now.” It was Jungkook- unexpectedly just standing there right in front of you. “Follow me?” without any hesitation, you obediently followed him out of the noisy club and into his car down the street. You didn’t know exactly what you had just brought yourself into as he drove off from the club. This young man could be a murderer or a rapist-and hell knows what kind of crazy thing he would do to you. “Where are we going?” “My place.” He answers with ease, finally pulling over in front of a tall building. Evidently, his apartment exuded luxury, suggesting that he was likely quite affluent. Jungkook parks his car quickly and brings you up to the elevator and finally to his apartment. Everything was happening so fast, all that you could feel at the moment was confusion. The man unlocks the door, pulling you in along with him but not with much force. 
“Welcome.” 
His place was rather impressive, adorned in various shades of grey as the main theme, featuring a large window and a snug kitchen. There was also a huge sliding door with translucent paper covering it- probably the entrance to his bedroom. You awkwardly stood beside his couch not wanting to take a seat without his consent and waited for him to at least explain what the hell was going on. Jungkook walks over and plops down onto the couch, his face looking up at you in confusion. “Why aren’t you sitting down?” “I have to go- my friends are going to kill me if they found out I just ditched them like that.” Before you could walk away to the door, Jungkook quickly grabbed your arm-not too tightly to hurt you but enough that made you sit on his lap. The heat on your cheeks was starting to go out of hand- I probably look like a dumb tomato, you thought.
“Stay.” You turn your head slightly to get a better look at Jungkook’s face when he suddenly leans in and captures your lips with his. It took a brief moment before you actually returned the kiss. It was full of passion and lust, something both of you were craving for out of each other. Your hands were now wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you to get more out of his lips. Jungkook licks your wet cavern with his tongue before tangling both of your tongues together, sucking on them roughly. Somehow, your hands had unwrapped themselves and made their way down to his chest; caressing it up and down. Standing up, Jungkook carries you up with your legs wrapped around his waist- your lips still latched together. The young man walks towards his bedroom and gently places you down on his bed, his body hovering on top of yours. He slowly pressed himself onto you, grinding his clothed hardness onto your clothed clit. “Mmhh.” A muffled moan escapes your lips, making Jungkook pull away from the intense kiss, only to leave hard kisses on your neck and even biting it to leave a few marks.
Being all impatient, you brought your hands up to his collar and began unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it away across the room. Your itchy hands then continued to go further down, fiddling with the belt of his pants and finally being able to get that out of the way too. You softly nudged his growing clothed erection with your knee before you unzipped his pants and pushed it off his legs completely, leaving him in nothing but his red-coloured boxers. Having both of your lips still hardly pressed onto each other, Jungkook unzips your dress and pulls it off of you easily- as if it was such a common thing for him to do but you didn’t put much thought about it at that moment. Without wasting any time, his quick hands unclasped your black lacey bra and he too, threw it across the room and God knows where it was now. Jungkook’s eyes adverted from your own down to your exposed breasts, his tongue slipping out of his lips to lick them dry. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath yet you could still hear them very clearly.
Instead of getting it on to the whole point- you decided you’d play a little game even though you knew you were going to get fucked real hard after. Literally. You held your palms on his chest and pushed him off you, making him roll to the other side only to have you hovering on top of him now. A smirk played on your lips as Jungkook looked at you in genuine confusion with a little hint of excitement. With the smirk still on your lips, you slowly made your way down till you reached eye-level with his growing crotch. “You’re so fucking hard.” You teased, biting onto the hem of his boxers and pulling it down slowly, your eyes locked with his. Jungkook bit his lips as he watched you pull his boxers off completely, letting his erect cock free itself from the heated cloth. “So hard-for me.” You let out a soft yet teasing moan, offering a smooth lick to his hardness. “Fuck-don’t tease me.” He breathed out when you gave another four or five licks. You ignored his words and continued to take his tip into your mouth, giving it a light bite before engulfing him whole; making you gag a little bit. The male’s head was now pulled back with his eyes shut tightly, his teeth biting onto his lips to suppress any sound from exiting. Jungkook didn’t want to sound weak, you see. Failing to keep his posture up together, he finally let out a groan when you started sucking onto him harshly. The pleasured male wasn’t giving much reaction to your doings, making you feel a little pissed off and you decided to leave it at that and pulled away completely when you know he was reaching his peak. “What the fuck!” he yelled, eyes widened in bewilderedness. Both of you were now in a heating tension; one who was pissed off and one who was just literally in heat.
Feeling himself getting hotter and frustrated by the second, Jungkook clutched his hands onto your arms tightly, carrying you away from being on top of him and pushed you down onto the bed. This time, it had a harder impact. You were starting to feel eager to know what he was planning to do with you yet you were also feeling a little scared of what might come out of him. The awaited male shot you a glare before he roughly tore your black underwear and pushed three of his fingers together into you. That sudden action of his made you jolt in pain, obviously not ready for his invasion. His fingers were not like those slim and longed ones, no. They were- not to say huge but slightly plump but fit. You can imagine them by yourselves on this one.
He started pulling his fingers in and out of your wet clit, every push becoming even harder than before. “So wet-for me.” Jungkook mocked you, hearing you moaning out loud when it’s barely him inside of you. Feeling your stomach clenching, you were waiting for him to finger you even quicker but instead, INSTEAD- he pulled them out completely. Before you could yell at him for being a total jerk, he pushed his erect cock up in you with a loud blow; not even wasting time to adjust and went straight into thrusting. Your eyes started to water, your back was arching to its maximum point and you were screaming his name at the top of your lungs at every hard thrust he blew into you. 
“Oh fuck me- faster please..!” you squirmed in painful ecstasy, Jungkook not even having to listen to your demands as he paced up even faster than before. “You’re so fucking hot babe..” he breathes out in between his humps, hoping you would be able to hear them even though you were busy getting pleasured. “Fuck’s sake- faster! Mmhm..” this time, you moan even louder, signalling that you were reaching your climax very very very soon. “I-I’m going to cum.” Jungkook hitches, thrusting in you hard a few more times before he pulls out and lets the warm liquid flow out and stain the bed sheet.
The room was filled with nothing but the rushed breathings of your lungs and his. After some time passed by, Jungkook finally turned to your side and pulled up the blanket to cover both of your naked bodies. “Hey.” He says, making you turn your head to face his smiling face. “Hey.” Now, both of you were simply smiling, your eyes locked, each attempting to decipher the thoughts lingering in the other's mind. "Let’s have a dinner date tomorrow. I want to get to know you better.”
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mauvecherie-writes · 2 months
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filthy: l.hamilton.
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warning: 18+ mdni, extreme sexual content, slight dom!lewis, mating press, dirty talk, unprotected p in v.
notes: this gif set sent me and @hopefulromantic1 down a sinful path. our dark thoughts collided. Also I didn’t watch the episode lmao - a small section of this - paragraph 3 - is purely based on the gifs I’ve seen 😂. either way ennjjooyy 😘🤭.
I’m thinking about how you can’t get over just how buff Lewis got over the winter break. You love the way he just fills his t-shirts more, the way his thighs stretch the fabric of his pants - just how every inch of him seems to be bulging.
Just watching him do mundane things has you all hot and bothered. Like you’re in the living room watching his episode of DTS and you’re squirming in your seat as if he’s not somewhere in the house.
It’s the weirdest thing that sets you off. He’s by the track in his white tee, talking to the kids from Mission44 and he moves to clap his hands before swinging his arms. holy fuck. you’re creaming for your man.
You move so quickly off the sofa, you startle your sleepy boy Roscoe. You throw an apology to him before running to the security system and search the camera footage to see where he is.
He’s outside, fixing up the trampoline for the kids. You run to the backyard and for a moment you stop and just watch him. His arms flexing as he tightens the bolts on the legs.
When you catch his eye, he smiles at you. So bright and wide, his eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart beats faster causing you to blush.
“What’s up baby?” He asks you as he stands to his full height.
You don’t answer and in that moment Lewis sees the glint in your eye and he immediately knows where your heart is at. It makes him smirk.
“I have a problem.” You say as you tip-toe toward him.
“Tell me love.” He says, wiping his hands before taking your hand pulling you closer before he settles his large palms on your waist as yours wrap around his neck and you play with the strands at the back of his head.
“I see you on the show and you’re all buff and shit, muscles spilling out of your shirt and then I see you out here doing work.”
“Did that turn you on baby?” He licks his lips as he trails his hands down to your ass and cups your cheeks.
“Yeah.” You let out a breathless sigh as he massages your flesh.
“How do you want me to fix it sweetheart?”
You give an all knowing smile and next thing you know, he’s picking you up in his arms and running back into the house. You don’t even go all the way to the master bedroom.
He bulldozes his way into the guest bedroom downstairs and chucks you onto the bed like you weigh nothing before pulling at your clothes and barely stepping out of his before he’s back in between your legs.
“You’re so fucking wet. Did I really do that to you sweet girl?” He smiles as he stretches his knees apart - pushing yours further apart too.
“Yes!” You gasp as you arch forward trying to press your cunt against this dick. “I’m also ovulating so that could be it too.” You confess.
Lewis grunts at your words as he presses into you. Once your eyes roll, he doesn’t hold back. He’s fucking you so good that you’re screaming and trying to run away from him. He’s deep in your guts as you struggle for words.
His shoulders and chest are folding you and pressing into you as you struggle for air.
“It’s t- too much baby.” You hiccup as his skin slaps against the back of thighs. His mark was all over your body despite the way that he has you folded. The contact bites at your skin from the ferocity of his thrusts.
He’s fucking you into the bed and crushing you until you’re gasping for air and he laughs at you - mocking you for how much you said you could take him but you’re clearly having trouble doing so.
You keep trying to run away.
You try to beg but he’s not having it, the laughter is gone from his voice - he’s serious again. Your legs are back on his shoulders and he’s got you in a mating press as he fucks you harder and harder into the bed.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going huh?” He hisses in your ear as he thrusts until you. “I’m fixing your problem aren’t I? This is what you wanted. Why you running?” He taunts you.
You cry louder as tears trail down your cheeks and settle into the crooks of your neck.
“This is what you wanted. Fucking take it!” He growls. “Take this fucking dick, it’s yours.”
ru’s letters 💌: I’m ending it here. Let your imagination run 😝😌
tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @lewisinlace @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy
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endlessthxxghts · 7 months
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You Better Jump... (part 2 of 2)
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈9k
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Summary: Your neighbor fixed your lock for you. How can you ever repay him? [read part 1 here]
Warnings: Canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). Partial physical description of reader (having a thick/curvy body, wears a dress/feminine). Reader is a polyglot but no explicit mentions of race/ethnicity. Feminine pet names (sweet girl, darlin’, etc.). Flirty/awkward interactions and heightened sexual tension. Reader’s unhinged bestie <3. Implied age gap, but no explicit mention as to how big. LATINO JOEL MILLER (😫). An oddly weird amount of sweetness for 2 people who just met LOL. SMUT 18+ MDNI: Joel gets turned on at reader being a polyglot LMAO. Overall dirty talk/vulgar language. Dom/sub undertones (not heavy or established but definitely present). Vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected (I’m not sorry), semi-public sexual activity, thigh riding, bit of exhibitionism kink, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (blink and you’ll miss it), spit kink, choking, hickeys/marking… please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!
A/N: HERE'S PART 2 (THE FINAL PART)! ENJOY, MY LOVES!!💚
MASTERLIST
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You and Joel make out like that, with your front door wide open, until you hear a loud meow from what you immediately know to be the neighborhood cat who likes to visit you once in a while. You two break away from each other, breathless, startled from the feline just sitting at the foot of your door.
You look back up to Joel with a cheesy grin on your face, and he mirrors your expression, bringing one of his hands up to run along your red and swollen bottom lip. “Sorry,” he chuckles breathily, “got a little carried away.” 
You slowly lean forward into his touch and take his thumb into your mouth, swirling it around your tongue. “Don’t apologize,” you say. You pull your mouth off his thumb and leave a little kiss to the pad of it, “I liked it.”
He groans, his eyes completely black and the grip on your waist tightens, “Darlin’,” he warns, “I need to take you out properly first.”
You slowly back away an inch with a smile full of trouble and put your hands up in a surrendering motion.
His jaw clenches, “You’re trouble, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”
You shrug your shoulders in response, “Maybe.” You fall to your knees in front of him, slowly, and pick up the tools he dropped before your little makeout session. You stand on your knees, head in line with his hips, and look up at him. You reach around and tuck his tools in the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing onto his belt loops to pull yourself back on your feet, “Thank you for fixing my door for me, Joel.” 
Before you can break away from the close proximity, his arm snakes around your waist yet again and pulls you in, his other free hand going straight for the underside of your jaw. “Pick you up at seven tonight, hm? Wear somethin’ pretty,” he says, leaning in for a deep kiss that sucks all the air out of you, “Somethin’ that gives me easy access, yeah?” 
And with that, he walks out (the cat in tow), shutting the door in the process. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It’s 5 o'clock by the time Joel left you completely speechless at his last words, and it’s 6 by the time you call your best friend to get your ass over here right now and update her on everything that happened, including her stupid ass comment that made it right into Joel’s earshot. Of course, she laughs hysterically at that, slapping the shit out of your arm with every deep breath she takes at an attempt to calm herself. 
“Alright, bitch,” she says, wiping the edges of her eyes from any residue tears, “Let’s get ya dressed, so you can jump-”
“That’s enough,” you say, slapping your hand over her mouth.
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Holy fuck. 
All your life, you were never really confident in yourself. You were secure enough in your identity that you knew you weren’t that bad to the average eye, but you also very much knew that you weren’t jaw-droppingly sexy. That is, until Joel made you feel like the hottest person on the planet with how he couldn’t control himself with you. Mix in your best friend’s way of hyping you up, and fuck did you feel unstoppable. 
You’re not much of a dress person, but you did have a silk, dark green spaghetti strap dress that you bought on a whim a year back. You were slightly skinnier then, but the way it hugs you now accentuates all the right curves and you’ve never felt so fucking beautiful. The dress is also very flowy, having a long slit on both sides, stopping at your hip. Standing, sitting down, no matter what angle, anyone is bound to see a slip of your underwear. Which is totally the reason why you make the executive decision to not wear any, and not because of Joel’s words ringing in your ear since it left his mouth. 
You enter your living room once again, giving your best friend a bit of a show before you kick her ass out, and just as your laughs settle down, you hear a knock at your door. 
No fuckin’ way it’s been an hour already, you think to yourself. Your eyes go wide as you look at your best friend, her expression mirroring yours. You frantically look at the clock on your television stand, and, it has been an hour already, fuck. 
You tell your best friend to hide in your room for now because there is absolutely no way she’s meeting Joel yet. She frowns, but ultimately she listens and runs to your room while you run to grab the door. 
You’re already out of breath from the show you were giving your best friend, and the nerves that were building with Joel on the other side of the door you were about to open is not helping one bit. 
You planned on just side-stepping him and making it straight for his car, so he doesn’t come inside, but as soon as the door opens, your breath hitches. Joel is so fucking sexy, Jesus fucking Christ, you want to swallow him whole right fucking now. As your eyes give him a full sweep, you make it down to his sleek black shoes, and in your peripheral vision, you see that your feet are still bare. Shit, there goes your plan. 
“Well, aren’t you a pretty sight,” he says, also looking you up and down, matching your energy, wanting to devour you just as bad. You smirk up at him and muster up a bashful thank you, but you’re still in a trance from how good he looks. Finally, you feel the outside air tickle your feet, so you start stepping backwards into your apartment, beginning to kneel down to reach the heels you set aside earlier. 
He notices where you’re headed and stops you by gently grabbing you by the hip, “Here, may I?” And before you can even think to decline (which you never would), he’s already on his knees for you, for the second time today, and you can’t help the pooling arousal in your core. Your panty-less core, to be exact, which is now only inches away from him. 
He grabs your foot and situates it on his knee while he works to unclasp the strap. When he does, his rough hands are grabbing your ankle so contrastingly soft and situating your foot into the heel. He makes sure the strap wraps perfectly around your ankle, and seeing how big his hands are, you would think he would struggle with such a tiny buckle. But no, he clasps it faster than even you would, and he finishes off by leaving a sweet kiss just above where the strap lays on you. He hears your breath hitch at that, so, like the menace he is, he places three more soft kisses, making the journey higher up your leg. And before you can beg him to keep going, he’s already switching your feet around, and repeating the exact same process to your other foot. Including the three kisses up your leg. He looks up at you, a smug smile and a playful sparkle in his eye, “Ready, pretty girl?”
“Y-yeah, I-I’m ready,” you stutter out, eyes already glossed over. He stands at full height now, his hand falling to your lower back as he guides you to the front door. He pauses, though, and you look up at him slightly confused. “I reckon she won’t be here when we get back, but, uh, aren’t ya gonna introduce me to your little friend?” 
Your eyes go wide, “How-?” You begin to question, but his fingers are already at your chin, guiding you to look at the black Jeep, backed into a parking spot next to your car, with a bumper sticker of a half set of butterfly wings. It perfectly matches up to the sticker on your car, making a full butterfly. “Oh,” you say defeated but also impressed he picked up on such a little detail. It makes your heart warm a little. 
He lets you go from his grasp, and you turn your body in the general direction of your room and yell, “Bitch, get out he-” 
It’s as if she had her ear to the door the entire time, waiting for the moment she could dart out because she doesn’t even give you a moment to finish your statement. She’s already in front of you both within seconds. 
You give her the eyes that she immediately translates as please play it cool, but you both know she won’t. “Hi, Joel, right? I’ve heard lots about ya,” she spits out at the speed of lightning as she holds her hand out for him to take, and she quickly follows by introducing her name. Joel chuckles at her eagerness and his date’s obvious embarrassment. It’s endearing. Reminds him of his relationship with Tommy. It warms him to know you have a true ride or die in your life, it’s rare to come across these days. 
Eventually the introductions are over, your best friend is headed back to her home, and you and Joel are headed to some restaurant that he refuses to tell you the name or where it is, just that the “Drive is worth it, I promise.”
“A 40 minute drive?” you say jokingly just to rile him up, “This better be the best goddamn thing my mouth is ever gonna taste, then.”
His stare breaks from the road for a moment to look at you, then it’s back on the road. But he has a shit-eating grin on his face. “We might as well turn around then, huh? Because the best goddamn thing that mouth of yours is ever gonna taste is not available in any restaurant, no matter how far or fancy.”
It takes you a minute to register, but when it does, you can feel your cheeks and ears heat up, spreading down to your chest, and eventually his dirty implication forces the heat to settle in between your legs. “Christ,” you say under your breath as you shift your hips in his passenger seat, not wanting your already soaked pussy to get anywhere. 
Maybe you should’ve worn some panties after all. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You guys are on the last stretch of your drive, about ten minutes left, and Joel’s hand has found his home on your thigh, thoughtlessly rubbing his fingers up and down. However, your mind is completely racing because fuck you just wish he’d move up a little higher to where you are absolutely begging for him the most. 
As if he hears your plea, his hand goes higher and higher, but then he stops. His hand goes rigid, grip gets a little tighter, and his breath gets a little heavier. His hand is high enough to where he should be feeling the hem of your underwear, or at least that’s what he was expecting to feel. 
“Darlin’?”
“Yes, Joel?” you say as innocently as possible.
“Are you not…?”
“No,” losing the innocence in a matter of seconds. 
“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, baby,” he grits out as his hand resumes his path to your wetness. The closer he gets, the more your hips try and angle upwards so he can reach you better, and as soon as his fingers are running through your folds, you’re fucking done for. 
“We’re not leavin’ this car ‘til you cum at least twice on my fingers,” he says, his voice completely dark now. “Ya hear me?” He questions as he applies pressure to your clit.
“Fuck! Yes- yes, please, Joel,” you whine out. You shift your body slightly towards his direction, and you open your legs as much as his truck allows you to. Immediately, his fingers slide from your clit and come down to your entrance, spreading your wetness all over you. 
He dips into your hole, just one finger in and slowly starts pumping in and out. You’re so turned on by him that just one finger is enough to make that wet squelching sound from going in and out of you. You let out a moan at the action, your one hand shooting to grip the handle of your door and the other gripping onto his bicep. “You make the sweetest sounds for me, darlin’,” he says to you, southern twang increasing in line with his own arousal. 
“Please, baby-” you mutter as your head falls back. His one finger speeds up at your words, “Oh, c’mon, use those words,” he teases a second finger at your entrance. 
He’s only using one finger right now, and you’re already fucked out, unable to speak or think. You so badly want more of him, though, so you will yourself to talk. “Oh, p-please, an- another finger, Joel, please.. n-need you so bad, please,” you beg. 
“That’s right, baby, usin’ your words for me,” he slides his second finger in, “Dámelo.” Give it to me.
“Oh my god,” you damn near scream out, his words spurring you on more than you’ve ever felt. More slick leaks out of you at his Spanish command. Of course he’s fucking sexy and has the filthiest mouth, in multiple languages, known to man. His two fingers are coming in and out of you at a delicious rate, the thickness and length of him hits that sweet spot in you without even trying. “Touch your clit, baby,” you barely hear him say with how blissed out your head feels. Slowly, you let go of the door handle beside you and bring your hand to your clit, rubbing messy circles on your center, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer to the edge. 
“Fuck, Joel, your fingers-” you say as he works you open. “My fingers, what? Go on, lemme hear you, trouble.” 
Your breathing speeds up to an erratic pace, hot and heavy, “t-too fuck-” your moan cuts you off as your orgasm approaches. He makes his fingers bend in a motion that hits you right where you need it, and- “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Joel.” 
“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, baby,” he says, his movements slowing momentarily. 
In your foggy haze, you find yourself peaking at the time, and- It’s only been four fucking minutes? Never has a man ever been able to make you cum that fast. Your past girlfriends, absolutely, but the men you slept with? They’re not even worthy of the label boyfriend if you’re being completely honest. Whatever the case is, you just know Joel has you absolutely fucked. You knew this from the start, of course, but it’s finally setting in. When he’s knuckle-deep inside you while less than ten minutes out from your mystery date location. Chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?
You’re brought back from your slight distraction when you feel him pull out of you. You whimper at the loss, your hips raising for more. “I know, sugar, I know,” he comforts, “I just have to get a taste before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” His fingers disappear into his mouth, licking and sucking every last drop on him like you’re some lifesaving nectar he’s been searching all his life for. He lets out a pained groan, “I need to taste ya for real, fuck.” 
He gives you no time to react to his words because his fingers are back inside you in no time. This time he pumps into you with a steady pace but a deep pressure that has you unable to take a single breath in. Your eyes are rolled back, and it feels like you’re drowning. Like you’re being consumed in everything Joel, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Sweat is dripping down your neck at this point as the heat spreads from the apples of your cheeks to the swell of your breasts all the way down to your core. The sounds flowing out of you are uncontrollable and pure filth, and it’s riling him up so much that he is in literal physical pain. His hand that’s on the wheel is gripping so hard that his knuckles are ghost white, and his entire face is flushed with the utmost amount of pained self control you’ve ever fucking seen. 
“C’mon, my filthy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts out, “almost there, baby, need one more from you,” his pace finally speeding up in the way that he knows, from your first climax, will end you. He tried keeping his pace slow on purpose, so he can draw out all your beautiful moans and gasps and drag you further into that floating state of mind, but you’re nearly at your destination now and he so desperately needs to get out of this car before he drops his gentlemen promise and pulls over to take you right here in his truck. Unbeknownst to you, he pulls into a parking space that is completely excluded from the general population, and he leans over to bring his hand on your jaw to make you meet his eyes. 
“You look at me when I make you cum, yeah, trouble?” he asks, though it’s not much of a question. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him and you try to answer him, but you’re feeling too good that as soon as you starts, “Anythinforyou, Jo-” your orgasm cuts you off and your mouth falls open with the most desperate and needy moans you’ve ever heard yourself make. 
He continues his movements as you let yourself fall deeper and deeper, and only until the overstimulation begins to hit you do you realize where you are. “W-when did we park..?” you groan out as he removes his finger from your spent pussy. He chuckles at your cluelessness, “Few minutes ago, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his fingers up to his mouth yet again to lap up your arousal. The action alone has your pussy clenching for something more. 
As if he can read your mind, “Later,” he smirks at you. “Let’s eat,” he adds as he gets himself out of the car and walks to your side, opening your door and guiding you out. “Thank you,” you say shyly, unable to look up at him and as you stand on your jello legs. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The restaurant he takes you to is absolutely gorgeous and lively. It’s an Italian restaurant, small and homey, and it seems like a locally owned business. It’s extremely dim, and the main sources of light are purple and red, pointing in the direction of the live music. You two are sitting in a booth in a dark corner, intimate and excluded. 
“This place is really beautiful,” you tell him with a smile that makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. “You eat here often?”
“Y-yeah,” he stutters. Why is he nervous now when he just had you coming apart on his finger merely moments ago? Human emotion is a peculiar thing. “Actually, sorry-” he blurts. You sense his nerves, but you don’t mention it. It warms you that he’s actually nervous. It shows you he’s actively wanting more than just your lust-filled endeavors. You rest your arm along the table, your hand resting palm up near his own, offering him comfort. Silently telling him you’re nervous, too, for whatever it’s worth. He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers with one another. You can see him physically relax. “I don’t really eat here often, but my daughter has dragged me here once or twice. The food is really fuckin’ good.” 
“I’m excited,” you squeeze his hand to reflect your excitement. You’re usually the one making the pasta or any Italian dish you’ve been craving because cooking is what you were bred to do. Cooking is the way to the heart, your nonna always taught you. No matter how traditional the sentiment was, it was one you carry with you always. Naturally, you were a bit reluctant to indulge, but the entire atmosphere here screams authentic Italian culture, reminding you of your nonna and soothing your reluctances.
You both scour the menu for a moment, but you both settled on an option fairly quickly, your waiter comes right on queue. “Ciao! Can I start us off with anything to drink?”
Too enraptured by your food options, you forgot to decide your beverage. Before you can even begin to think, Joel is already on it. “Could we get two glasses of red, your house blend, please?”
“Right away, sir, I’ll be back with those in a moment and take your order, then,” he says as he steps away. Immediately then, another individual appears with two glasses and fills them up with water while you wait. 
Joel’s focus is on the water being poured, while you’re still devouring him with your eyes. You and him never had a chance yet to talk about your backgrounds or your interests, but so far he’s doing a damn good job at dissecting you: your favorite food being Italian and your drink of choice always being red wine, and he got that, all unprompted. 
Finally, his eyes meet yours and the sultry look you’re giving him makes him immediately heat up, his red flush making its appearance again. “What?” He gives you an amused grin.
“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean back in your bench seat, “I just- you’re really impressing me. It’s quite the turn on.” 
His expression turns from amused to aroused in seconds. “Oh?” He leans forward. “Tell me more?”
Before you can indulge, your waiter is back, placing a wine glass in front of each of you and pouring your glass a little over a third way full before he sets it down to begin taking your order. 
“What can I get started for you guys?”
You signal for Joel to go first. The look on your face screams mischief, so he doesn’t question it. He orders the filet mignon gnocchi, tonight’s special. The waiter turns to you. 
“Buonasera! Vorrei la carbonara, per favore,” (Good evening! I would like the carbonara, please) you say as you beam up at the waiter. His expression brightens tenfold as he realizes what language you just spoke to him. “Perfetto, la carbonara,” (Perfect, the carbonara) the waiter writes down, then looks between the both of you, “I’ll get these in right away.”
“Grazie,” (Thank you) you say, and you hear a small thank you coming from Joel as the waiter walks away. You and Joel meet each other’s gaze. 
“You-” he breathes. He looks really shocked. And utterly turned on. “You speak Italian?” You don’t remember when, but his hold on your hand switched to running his finger up and down your forearm. Chills fall down your spine. “Mhm,” you respond with, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while you reach for a sip of your wine, as if you don’t know how much you just completely rocked his world. 
“Fuckin’ trouble, I tell ya,” he says under his breath as he tries to casually adjust himself under the protection of the table and the dark lighting. 
After your meals come out, the next 45 minutes are spent in easy conversation. You ask him questions that prompt responses ranging from telling you about his daughter to him being a single father to his contractor business with his younger brother, Tommy. In return, he asks you questions about your family, your best friend, and the question that’s been burning him all night, “Where the hell did you learn Italian?” 
You chuckle at his eagerness. Who knew Joel Miller would have an auralism fetish? You wonder what else could spur him on. “I can ask you the same about your Spanish,” you say as you wipe your mouth from any pasta sauce. “Throwing your words at me while you have me wrapped around your fingers, literally.” You say it so casual yet bold that it does nothing but fire him up more. His self control slips more and more with every flirty and filthy word your mouth utters. 
He clears his throat and takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Grew up bilingual,” he offers. 
Southern drawl with a Spanish tongue? Yes, please, you think to yourself. You hum in agreement. He picks up on it. “Ah, I see.”
“Not bilingual, though,” you clarify with a smirk, mainly to test out just how turned on he’ll get at the prospect of your tongue being versed in a variety of ways. 
One hand of his tightens as if he’s trying to really hold onto the string that’s keeping his self control at bay. 
You sit and think for a minute. You grew up in a mixed ethnic household, so you have a few options you could choose to reveal right now, but there’s one in particular that you know will make him snap. 
The waiter hands the bill directly to Joel. He’s writing down the tip and total as he murmurs to you, “What else do you know?” The waiter comes back and offers you both pleasantries and bids you goodnight, in Italian to you and English to Joel.
You lift your napkin up off your lap and begin to stand. He starts, but freezes as soon as you begin to speak, “Bueno,” you breathe out. “Me encantó la comida, pero tenemos que ir a la casa, ¿qué piensas?” (Well, I loved the food, but we have to go home, what do you think?) You begin to walk in the direction of the exit, but you don’t feel his warmth radiating from you, so you turn back around. He’s sitting back down at the edge of the seat. You go back to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Joel…you okay?”
“Yep,” he says strained, “Just, uh- need a minute.” Both his hands are situated on his knees and he’s leaning over a little. Your eyes drift to in between his thighs and god damn he’s hard. Painfully hard. His bulge is so big it has you holding back a whimper at the sight of it. 
You can’t help but make this situation worse for him, it’s in your nature. So you bring your mouth down to his ear and in a low whisper, “Faster we get into the car, the faster I can take care of that for you, big boy.” 
He stands at full height now, his body completely flush and towering over you. He takes one look at you and his hands are on your waist, spinning you around and guiding you to the car without a word. 
You can feel yourself walking faster than you’ve ever done in your life, and thank Heavens you do because as soon as you reach the car, he wastes no time in turning you around and pinning you between the driver’s side door and his body.
His lips meet yours in a frenzy, it’s a clash of hot breath and tongue, and you take all of him in fervently. His tongue passes over yours in a way that has your knees buckling. He clocks it immediately and before you know it, his thick thigh is slotted between yours, nudging your core. You moan into his mouth at the pressure, and he pulls away to grab your jaw, forcing your attention onto him. “Gonna give me another one, baby?”
“Joel-” you start, but he cuts you off. “You’re gonna give me another one, right here, right on my fuckin’ thigh,” he demands, his grip on your jaw tightening with his words, “Am I understood?”
You nod your head frantically as much as his grip allows you, followed by a “Fuck, fuck, yes, Joel, yes, I understand,” and your hips start moving on their own accord. “That’s it,” he chuckles, eyes blown out in his arousal for you. One hand wraps around your waist while the other bunches the front of your dress so he can see the mess you’re creating on him. 
If anyone were to walk by right now, they would get a full view of your sobbing cunt rubbing all over his dressed thigh. It’s lewd, it’s pornographic, and it would definitely get you arrested for indecent exposure and disorderly conduct. And even though those reasons should be enough for you to stop what you’re doing and tell Joel you want to just get home first (which he’d be more than willing to oblige to for your comfort), you don’t want to. The prospect of someone walking by to witness what this hunk of a man can reduce you down to is enough to push you to the edge that much faster. 
He slightly rocks his thigh back and forth in time with the grind of your hips, the now wet fabric catching enticingly on your clit. Joel’s grip on your waist tightens, encouraging more pressure into you. He lets go of your dress to slip his fingers in between your cunt and his thigh, adding more stimulation to the bundle of nerves as he pushes himself into you to meet you in another wet kiss. His lips leave your mouth and make its way down your jaw to just below your ear, and he bites. Hard. The searing sensation mixed with everything else makes your vision go white, and you’re literally creaming all over his black dress pants. He soothes that part of your neck with more sucking and licking as your hips come to a halt, his fingers still rubbing slowly, ever so often teasing them at your entrance. 
Your full weight is leaned against his truck, and the only reason you’re still standing right now is because of his hold on you. He knows this, so keeping his one arm around your waist, he slowly pulls away from you to bend down and bring his other arm under your knees. He picks you up and cradles you to the front seat of his truck. He sets you down gently, buckles you in, and before he steps away to the driver side, he uses his pointer and thumb to nudge your chin up to his level, and he kisses you so sweetly, the butterflies in both your bellies fluttering like crazy at the feeling. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers. 
“Then take me home, cowboy.” 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Ironically enough, your car ride back to your apartment is filled with the sweetness of each other’s presence, your main conversation of getting to know each other from dinner picking back up. The first few minutes of pulling out of the parking lot and getting onto the main road was you bringing yourself back down from your orgasmic high. You wanted to take care of Joel, so that’s what you started to do as soon as you gained your consciousness again, but he stopped you. 
“Trust me, darlin’, I want you to so fuckin’ bad,” he says as he regretfully puts your hand back on the middle console and engulfs your hand in his. “But, at least, for tonight, I need to get you off before I do.” 
You look at him even though he can’t meet your gaze. The gesture is heartwarming, you’ve never had anyone like this before. And although pleasing your partner is equally as pleasing for you, you don’t argue—but you are confused. “You did get me off, though…three times already?” 
He smirks and meets your eyes for a moment before turning back. “That was just your appetizer, baby,” he lifts your hand up to his mouth and leaves a kiss to the back of it. 
Your eyes go wide, “Oh,” you squeak out. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, “Okay then.” 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
As soon as he parks, he’s out of the car in an instant, opening your door and guiding you out again. You walk up to your door, fumbling for your keys to unlock it. He’s behind you, lips hungrily kissing up and down your neck and your shoulder. As soon as you get it open, you turn around to face him, your lips smashing into his and tugging him into the house as you walk backwards towards the direction of the nearest piece of furniture possible. He kicks your door shut and swiftly locks it, his one hand only leaving you for an unnoticeable second. 
You were trying to lead him to your living room, but somehow you ended up crashing into your dining table. He doesn’t care though because his hands are grabbing at your hips, hoisting you up. He breaks the contact with your lips and you whine at the loss, but immediately he’s kneeling. Third time today, you think to yourself, could definitely get used to this view. 
“Told ya, I needed to taste you for real, sweet girl,” he says as he runs his hands up your thighs. “Spread your legs, baby.” 
You gather the front of your dress and let it pool beside you, your bottom half completely bare to him. You spread your legs and bring your hips to the very edge, your core completely at his mercy. His eyes grow completely black at the view, your wetness dripping out of you. 
He secures his hands at your hips, borderline grasping at the globes of your asscheeks, and your thighs hooked on his shoulders. He leaves warm, open-mouth kisses up your thigh, alternating between both. Once he reaches your sex, you realize there is absolutely no stopping him until he’s had his fill. Your one hand stays behind on the dining table to hold you up while the other flies to the back of his head, gripping the curls at the base of his neck. 
You’ve never felt anything like this before. His plush lips kissing every place vulnerable to you with such a velvety sensation, his tongue pushing into you and nudging areas you didn’t know a tongue could reach, and his nose—My God, his fucking nose—providing life-altering sensation directly on your clit. 
The only noises in your apartment are the sounds of his slurping mixed with your high-pitched moans and occasional dirty praise, and you’re sure your neighbors can hear you, but you’re feeling way too fucking good to even care about that right now. 
“Just like that, fuck-” your hips start grinding into his face, “-shit, you feel so fucking good, Joel, yes!” You gasp out as his rhythm changes, forcing you to the edge for the fourth time tonight. 
He pulls you in impossibly closer and shoves his face impossibly deeper, and at that moment, your orgasm crashes into you. Your arm that was holding you up gives way and you fall back into the dining table, back arching while your thighs tighten around Joel’s head. The feeling of being completely consumed by you eggs him on so much that he can’t bring himself to stop. He continues devouring you like his life depends on it, his moans and whines vibrating you deep within. You don’t know if it’s another orgasm hitting you or an aftershock from the one you just had, but all you know is that your ass is completely off the dining table and he’s holding you into his face drinking every last drop.
You use all your strength to pull yourself back up, both your arms behind you to hold you up. You try and scoot your ass back onto the table, but Joel is still gripping onto you, spoiling the entire area with slow, deep kisses. He gives extra attention on your thighs, sucking bruises that’ll flourish through the night. Loving the sensation but not loving the way your ass is hitting against the table, you softly call his name with a smile full of adoration, “Let’s take this to my room, maybe?”
He stands to his full height while scooting you back to be able to sit properly again. His smile mirrors yours. He grabs your face with both his hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s soft at first, but tasting yourself on him is a taste you don’t think you’ll ever tire of. Your tongue caresses his bottom lip, and he opens, pulling you in, his tongue embracing yours in an all-consuming dance. 
Your hands begin to roam at his sides, making your way to the buttons of his dress shirt, and it’s then that he pulls away, remembering the question you asked. “Wait, wait,” he says. He opens your legs a little more so he can step in between. His hands are underneath you once again, and he nudges you forward, wordlessly telling you to wrap your legs around his waist. So you do, and he picks up, chuckling at the squeal you let out when your body reaches the air, and he leads you to your bedroom. 
He lets you plop onto the edge of the bed and get yourself situated in the center. He finishes what you started and starts undressing himself. His shirt is the first to go, unbuttoning, untucking, and letting it fall to a random place on your floor. Looking down at you ready for him, he takes a step closer, unbuckling his belt, pulling them out of the loops, letting it follow the same path as his shirt. 
He’s been catching the way you’ve been admiring all day, so he indulges in your fantasy a little in the way he undresses himself for you. With every article that gets removed, he watches your eyes grow hungrier, your breathing heavier. You’re too occupied at the sight of his body, you don’t make any move to pull your dress off, but that’s okay. Joel wants to be the one to unwrap his dessert. 
Joel removes his pants and boxers in one go, and you let out an involuntary gasp at the sight in front of you. He is fucking huge. His length isn’t overbearing, but it’s his fucking girth that’s throwing you in for a loop. Your anxiety starts to rise a little; you have never been with a man as well-endowed as Joel and no strap-on you’ve taken could ever resemble what you’re about to take right now. 
You fell into your overthinking, not realizing that Joel has made his way over you. He grounds you with a kiss, stealing all your worries. He grazes his finger over your forehead, pushing a hair away. The action makes you melt. Oh, there goes the butterflies, again. He guides your head to angle down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and back to your lips once more. He makes sure your eyes are on each other before he says, “We do not have to do anything more if you are not ready, sweet girl.” 
He’s been pretty dominating all night, which you don’t mind at all, but this coming out of his mouth at the fire of your anxieties completely distinguishes them. You know you’re safe with him. Your eyes tear up and before you speak, you snake your hand to the back of his neck and yank him into you for another kiss. As he pulls away, a tear falls, but his thumb catches it. 
“I trust you, Joel, I need you,” you say as you lean into the warmth of his hand, “Please.” 
“Sit up for me real quick then, darlin’,” he says, sitting back on his haunches and pulling you up with him. His hands find the hem of your silky dress, and he slowly guides it up your thighs, up your torso, and you lift your arms off so he can guide it off completely. Now it’s his turn to admire. It’s as if his eyes don’t know where to look first: at your luscious thighs, your beautiful tummy, your full chest. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, not meant for you to really hear, but it makes you flutter all the same. 
“Lay down for me, baby,” he says as he continues admiring you. You lay back down again, reaching your arm up to drag the pillow below your head. You spread your legs, inviting him in, letting him know you’re ready. But what he does next absolutely surprises you. He grabs your leg at the ankle and lays kisses everywhere. Up your calf, the bend of your knee, all around your thigh in the areas he marked earlier. He reaches your mound and makes no move to dive in. Instead, he lays kisses in the area, even a kiss is placed directly on your clit. You moan at the feeling. He mirrors his actions on your other leg. Then, he bends forward and begins kissing your tummy. Kisses in the general vicinity of your belly button, your ribs, making his way up your sternum. 
Granted, your body is buzzing in arousal right now, and you’re making a puddle in your sheets, but mentally, the way he is appreciating your body has you feeling utterly content. 
Your hand finds its home again in his neck just as Joel reaches your breasts. He continues his journey and kisses all around, his tongue swirling around your nipples. Your back arches at this, and you feel him smile against you as his hands wrap around your ribs, his thumbs caressing underneath your boobs. His mouth makes its way to your neck.
His mouth transitions to longer, wetter kisses, leaving trails of spit on the valley of your breasts and on your neck. The cooling of his spit coaxes a whimper out of you, wanting more of him. Wanting to drink him. His mouth finally meets yours and it’s slow but desperate, your hips lifting to meet his at an attempt for any kind of relief. His tongue massages yours and you can feel the spit build up; you eagerly try and lap it up. 
You pull him away for a moment, slightly bashful to ask, but you need it so bad. “C-can you…” your gaze slips from his. His hand on your rib comes up to rest on the lower part of your neck, his fingertips grazing your jaw but also softly guiding you to look at him again. His eyebrow quirks up at you. Go on, he’s telling you. “Can you, uh- I-” you completely fumble. “Words, trouble,” he smirks, the nickname eliciting a sense of comfort within you. 
“Canyouspitinmymouth, please?” You rush out with your eyes clamped shut, scared of what his reaction would be. He doesn’t say a thing, waiting for you to come to your senses and open your eyes. As soon as you do, he’s on you again, kissing you like before you pulled away to ask your question. Except this time, his fingertips secure themselves on the hinge of your jaw and nudge you open. Your lips but a whisper apart, his spit falling into your mouth, as your tongues’ tips dance around one another. 
The moans you let out for him are sounds he never wants to give up. He’ll let you drink him dry if this is what he hears in his last breaths. 
He pulls away, a spit string connecting you both. You lean forward, attaching to his bottom lip for a moment more before you let yourself pull away, then you swallow.
“Fuck, that was so hot,” you breathily giggle. He smirks at your antics, leaning in for another kiss to distract you. He reaches for another pillow above your head, and as your kiss becomes more heated, you grind your hips up into him, giving him perfect timing to slot the pillow underneath your lower back. 
You pull back, “Wha-” you start to question, but he’s quick to respond. He sits back up for a sec, “It’ll help,” he says, and he brings both your legs into a bent position, like frog legs, in a way. Your confusion immediately fades as you physically feel your pelvic floor open up. Oh. 
“I thought you were a contractor, not a chiropractor?” you tease. 
“Watch it,” he warns. “You know, I could just,” his fingers graze your glistening entrance, “force it in,” he slips a finger in, slowly. You gasp, teasing demeanor gone in an instant. “No preppin’ this tight little thing,” he pulls his finger completely out, you whine in response. “How ‘bout that?” 
A barely audible please escapes your mouth, unsure of what it is you’re begging for, and you feel your pussy clench at his words. 
His eyes darken, “Oh, she likes that idea, huh?” He’s leaning over you now, kissing your jaw and neck as he grabs himself by the base and lines his tip up to your warmth. “Maybe next time. Right now, trouble, I’m takin’ my damn time with you.” 
He grabs himself by the base and guides himself to your entrance, his other hand at the side of your head. He lets his cock grind against your wet folds for a few moments, covering himself in your earlier climax, and then his tip catches at your entrance. You both let out a sharp gasp at the sensation, and he slowly starts pushing in. 
“Oh, fuck,” you let out.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he whimpers, “so fuckin’ good, fuck.”
Your pussy clenches at his tone of desperation, and his one arm moves to situate underneath the curve of your back, accentuating it. He’s halfway in you and the painful yet pleasing stretch of your pussy has you closing your eyes at the sensation. 
“Baby, eyes on me, need t’see you,” he says, reaching down to nip your bottom lip. Your eyes shoot open and your brows furrow, your pouty face doing nothing to ease his yearn of just pushing completely in you with no remorse. 
Finally he bottoms out, both your hips flush with one another, and being completely engulfed in you like this, he can’t hold out any longer. “Look, doll,” he rasps. His hand beside you snakes underneath your head and he’s lifting it for you to look down. “It’s like you’re made f’me, huh?” He says as he begins to pull out of you until only the tip is in. 
Your eyes are fixed on the sight below you. Your pussy absolutely stretched out, his dick completely covered in your juices. You don’t have the mental capacity to form anything coherent. Joel knows that, so giving you no time to acknowledge his filthy words, he pushes inside you again. This time much faster and much harder. 
He continues that rough and fast pace for a while, kissing and biting everywhere his mouth can reach, relishing in the constant moans and whimpers spewing from your mouth. 
“S-so big,” your voice quivers. 
“But you’re takin’ it so well, sweet girl,” he replies, voice husky and strained. He sits up a little to stand on his knees, his pace faltering momentarily. His arm from your waist moves down to the underside of the bend on your knee. He pushes your leg higher, opens you up more. The angle makes you flutter around his cock, and he can’t help but speed up. 
“Fuck,” he grits out, “not gonna last with that, sweetheart.”
His hand beside your head moves to rest at the base of your neck, his fingers splayed wide across you, giving him more leverage to rock in and out of you. You feel your body wanting to arch up into him, but the hold he has on you and the angle you’re in gives him complete control over you. The thought brings you higher, and you can’t help what spills from your mouth next. 
“‘S okay, Joel, p-please,” you moan, “Use me, use my pussy, daddy.” 
His hand trails a little higher and now he’s completely wrapped around your neck, his thrusts sloppy, but harder than you’ve ever felt before. “Say that again, sweetheart?” he rushes, hurtling towards his release. 
You let both your hands come up to grab ahold of the hand wrapped around your throat. You pulse your grip, hinting at him to squeeze. He gets it, and within seconds, his fingers are right on your pulse points, applying pressure and giving you a yummy dizziness. 
Your breath hitches and your voice picks up in pitch, “U-use me, daddy, I want your cum, please.” His other hand reaches for your clit. You gasp out. Immediately then, a lightbulb turns on in your mind, and a dazed smile forms across your face.
“Yeah, baby, that what you want?” he says as his ministrations on your clit picks up, his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you, over and over again. “Wanna be pumped full of daddy’s cum?”
“Ay, dámelo, papi, dámelo.”
It’s as if you two were really standing on an edge of a cliff, and you pushed him off with just your words. He roars out an addictive moan, and his release coats your walls. The warmth flooding in you and the pulse of his cock mixed with his fingers still circling, and you’re getting pushed off the cliff with him. His fingers begin to slow, and he’s letting go of your throat. He leans back over you to meet your lips, and you take him in. Quite sloppily, though, you’re doing the best you can with the feeling of his hips still slowly rocking into you, the overstimulation milking both of you for all that you’re worth. 
You both stay like that for a few minutes longer, basking in the softness of him on your lips, inside you. 
But then immediately he pulls away — and pulls out. You both hiss at the feeling. 
“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry-” he starts blabbering, but you cut him off with a finger on his lips. 
“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” you say as you take a deep breath for him to mirror, “What’s going on?”
He takes a deep breath and repeats himself, calmer this time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask where you wanted-” he gestures to his cum beautifully dripping from your entrance, “I know how risky that was- and we didn’t even use protection, I-” his panic starting to rise again. 
You put your hand on his sternum and put a little pressure, figuring if your anxiety sits there, it’s worth a shot to see if that’s where his sits, too. It does. He looks down at your hand and back up at you, kind of shocked but not more than the situation at hand to question how you know that would help.
“A few things,” you say as you keep your hand on him. “One, I never stopped you, we both took the risks. Two, luckily enough for the both of us, I’m on the pill.” He smiles at that. “And three, even if I wasn’t on the pill” you continue, “I wouldn’t mind picking up a Plan B if it meant I got to feel you like that inside of me again…” your voice trails off and immediately he pulls your hand away from his front up to his mouth to press several kisses on your palm, bursting in lighthearted laughter, his anxiety fading away. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You and Joel laid in bed, tangled up in each other, for a little while longer, but he could sense the mess started to make you a little uncomfortable. He pulled both you and him off your bed, guiding you with his hands on your hips but ultimately letting you take the lead to your bathroom. 
He guides you to your toilet and starts scouring your bathroom to find your washcloths. Once he does, he soaks it in warm water, and falls down to your level, so he can clean you. You reach out to grab the washcloth, thinking you’re gonna be the one doing it, but he’s quick to swat your hand away with a smile. He asks softly, “May I?” 
Your eyes meet his, and all you can see is a genuine softness and a genuine yearn to take care of you. It makes you breathless. “Yeah,” you return his softness.
Being the pretty kinky and adventurous person that you were, aftercare always existed for you. Albeit, some of your past partners were more tender than others, but none of them treated you in a way that made you feel like you two were endgame. There’s something about Joel and the way he can be so soft, warm, and appreciative. He’s so experienced and considerate that you know he’s probably had his fair share of lovers in his past, but the way he treats you makes you feel like everything back then was solely leading him to this very moment. Like he spent years searching, and now that he’s found you, he needs to make sure what’s his is truly being taken care of in the way it deserves. 
The thought and his actions should scare you, but they don’t. 
There are people who spend years dating each other, still trying to figure out if they’re meant to be. There are married couples filing for divorce because they learned that they weren’t for each other after all. 
There are others who get married after six months because they just know. Then, there’s you and Joel. Obviously you’re not going to marry him tomorrow but as you sit here, letting him care for you in such a way you’ve never felt before, you feel it. The rightness. The belonging. He’s gonna be in your life for a long, long time, and one of the most important people in your life at that. You don’t say any of this, though. You can’t. It’s too soon. 
So, for now, you’ll just let your actions speak louder than words, and show him just how much you need him in your life. 
“I’m cooking for us next time,” you say, pulling Joel from his own thoughts.
“Okay,” he says without a second thought. Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the exact same thing as you. 
He feels it, too, and just like you, for now, he’ll let his actions speak louder than his words. 
He reaches over and plops the washcloth into the sink, his eyes on you. 
“Only if we christen the dining table before dinner.”
Your eyes widen and your cheeks go hot. 
Yeah, you are absolutely fucked. And so is he. 
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I hope you guys enjoyed!🥹 As always, feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. is extremely appreciated! Thank you to every single one of you for welcoming me with open, loving arms. I'm giving all of you forehead smooches right now. I love you all. So much.
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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emmyrosee · 10 months
Text
this is an actual thing that happened to me and my poor friend like, an hour ago lmao
——
It’s been raining for three weeks straight.
On the list of things that make Katsuki angry, rain is high, high up on that list, above most people and most things. Rain feels useless to Katsuki, does nothing but make things wet and gross, and he’ll never forgive the rain for drowning his plants as a kid.
Rain makes him a certain degree of agitated.
You, on the other hand?
“Baby, look! It’s raining!” You beam.
You like it. Freak.
The forecast had no called for rain, nor had his phone given any warnings, but as he paid the bill for lunch, seemingly as soon as the waiter took his card, the rain poured to godlike fury.
Phenomenal.
There’s nothing he loves more on his one Saturday off a month than sprinting through monsoon season in worn down sneakers and your feet padding behind him. There’s nothing he finds more euphoria in than opening the passenger side door for you and feeling the squish of a puddle in his shoe.
And he absolutely, completely, totally understands how on the gods’ decaying, rotten earth, why you enjoy this so much.
At this point, all Katsuki wanted to do was go home, curl up in a ball with you close by and nap all the frustration and cold rain away for the next few hours-
“LOOK OUT!” You scream, and instantly, Katsuki slams on his brakes, nearly flinging you both out the window. His face paled in panic before coming back in a complete anger.
“What the fuck was that!”
“Look!” You whimper, pointing out past the windshield with a worried pout. He squints as best as he can past the pouring rain, to no avail. You groan next to him and quickly leap out of the car to chase whatever you seem to see, making him snarl a firm ‘GET BACK HERE,’ through his teeth. You put your hands on your knees as you look down at the pavement, and he looks around for a oncoming car that you seem to ignore remembering that you’re in the middle of the goddamned road.
“Are you fucking insane?!” He snaps, opening his own car door and getting out to chase you. “You’re going to get sick, and I’m not going to take care of you.”
You pout up at him before fixing your gaze back down at the road, “you were gonna hit him.”
“Hit who?”
“The turtle,” you whine, fixing the hood of Katsuki’s sweater on your head to keep the rain off your face. With a furrowed brow, Katsuki does finally look down to see a small turtle settled in the road, blinking its slimy eyes softly as if half exasperated as Katsuki is.
He sighs in exhaustion, “you made me get out of my car, in the pouring rain, bordering fucking hail, to look at a snapping turtle?” His hands smack his face and scrub it in frustration, “this can’t be my life. There no way.”
“Can we save him?” You ask quietly, clearly very upset by the idea of this little creature being squashed.
“How do you- what- NO!” He snaps, mercilessly. You whimper softly before falling to your knees, water squishing under the bones. He’s got to admit, you do look very sad, but it’s 45 degrees outside and holy crap he’s gonna freeze out here and it’s your fault.
He hears you sigh from under his hoodie, and you reach out to touch the small turtle, only retracting your hand when it lurches out to snap at you.
“See? Why do you want to save this little shit?”
You scoff, “he’s just scared, it’s not his fault.”
“Yeah, snap at you again and I’ll give him something to be scared about.”
This, you give him a small laugh at, and he does sobsr up slightly. Your head turns up to look at him, rain hitting your face and lip still in a small pout. “Please, help me save him, Katsuki?”
Fucking god.
He growls softly, “how do you want me to save him? He’s a snapping turtle, can’t just lift his ass up.” You gnaw softly at your lip before looking back at the small turtle now receding into its shell in fright.
Then, you brighten, “just go home and get a shovel!”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not fucking going home, digging a shovel out of the garage, coming back and moving a turtle six feet to the other side of the road. You’re insane- he’ll be fucking fine, babe, let’s just go home.”
“I don’t want to leave him,” you say softly. “I’ll stay here, and if he moves, I’ll call you and walk home-“
“Are you fucking high? I’m not leaving you here, dumbass.”
Looking back up at him, you give him a cocky shrug, “guess you’re picking up the turtle with your hands.”
He could throttle you. Right here, in the middle of the road, right now.
With his patience running thin, and clothes soaked and heavy, he snarls softly before stomping back to the car, whipping out a small blanket he usually keeps for you when you fall asleep. He wraps it in his hands before stepping back over to you and the turtle, scooping the small reptile in his hands and grumbling as he walks it over to the sidewalk, placing blanket and all on the concrete. The turtle squirms and writhes, but once it’s placed on the sidewalk, it quickly scuttles into the mud and grass and far from the road. In the background, you’re cheering and clapping your wet hands, and he’s choosing to ignore you.
He grits his teeth and turns to you, “car. Now.”
“What about the blanket-“
“Car. Now.”
You’re still smiling as you round back to the passenger side of the car, and he hates knowing that you know he’s not completely mad, more talk than anything else.
Little rat.
He get into the driver side of the car and blasts the heat in a meek attempt to get warm, his temples pounding and heart more than ready to just get the hell home.
But his thoughts come to a halt when your arms toss around his shoulders over the center console and kiss all along his neck and cheek and temple.
“My hero,” you coo, pecking softly. “Saving everyone and everything for me. You’re the best ever. My handsome and brave hero.”
“Sit down,” he grumbles, trying to fight the warmth in his face. You ignore him, continuing to hum out praises and loving words as he drives you both home, knowing full well that you both know he’s weak to your pleas and requests and it’s going to be far from the last time he does something like this for you.
Freak.
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neonovember · 10 months
Note
hiiii
could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!
pretty pleaseee and thank u
so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;
“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in” 
And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?
Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.
Golden Boy
part one of 2
warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety
a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈
p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later
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You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.
The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.
The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen. 
Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes. 
You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.
And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were. 
You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.
You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.
“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students
Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts. 
“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.
“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.
“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”
“I couldn't possible-”
“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.
You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.
You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen.  You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.
Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.
But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.
He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.
You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad. 
You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.
He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers
“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.
His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands
“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.
“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.
“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips
“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.
“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.
“Bear..” You breathe out.
“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers
“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.
“Don’t say goodbye”
“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?
“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.
You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.
Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it
You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever. 
Time would age him into a memory forever.
Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time. 
*
“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.
You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.
You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.
Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.
*
It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.
“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.
“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.
“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story” 
She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.
She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.
“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.
“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.
You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?
“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone
“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.
“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.
“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.
“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.
“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.
You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.
“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.
“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.
“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”
“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.
Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.
The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago. 
What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?
You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.
There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.
Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.
Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came. 
You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string. 
And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.
“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.
“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing. 
“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.
“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”
“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration
“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.
“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently
“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.
“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.
“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.
And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.
“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”
You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.
It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.
You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to. 
But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out? 
Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face. 
You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness
“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”
“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.
“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.
“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile
“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.
“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.
“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.
Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.
You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.
“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.
Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?
Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.
“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.
You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently
“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie
No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised. 
You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.
“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.
Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.
And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would  be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again. 
Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.
You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.
The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.
You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you, 
You had to see your golden boy.
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sleepyconfusedpotato · 6 months
Text
MWIII Campaign Thoughts and Reviews
(Played in the recruit difficulty because I suck at FPS games, and I want to explore and spent time in the campaign without dying too much). Leave some thoughts!
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⚠️SPOILER ALERT⚠️
So… that was devastating. 
(+) To start things off, Makarov - Boy, holy shit. Yes. YESSS. They didn’t hold back with the new Makarov. He’s a mastermind, he’s a charming fella, he’s a psychopath lol. And the fact that he smiles a lot in this campaign just adds to the creepiness. I might get some side-eye here, but this Mak can go head-to-head with the OG!Mak. He’s always onto something, he’s proven destructive, had the 141 hauling ASS to chase him.
Makarov had stolen American missiles from ULF, caused false flag missile attacks on Russian Military base, and successfully orchestrated a false airplane hijacking, all under ULF's name - everything in the span of 48 hours since he got out of prison. I saw people saying that this Makarov ain't got nothing on the OG one has to be inhaling some shit copium because this is only in one single game and he's destroying shit.
I know just one game with rushed development won’t be enough for an iconic character like him, so I’m glad they didn’t kill him.
(-) I absolutely ABHOR, DETEST, LOATH the Open Combat Missions (OCM). It is so very not Call of Duty campaignesque. it doesn’t help anything with the narrative, and if anything, it even took away the narrative for us. The former missions in former games are iconic in their own way because the mission designer put a lot of thought into how the game will be played, the situations we found ourselves in.
But OCM's, we're like... Left to our own devices without any story-driven dialogues.
I think one of the reasons why MWII was so close to everyone's heart was because of the banters between the characters, especially in Alone. Here, because it's literally our choice and our time, it left us with no actual given time to know and love the characters more than we already did. Yes we love the characters, MW19 and MWII did that for us. But in this one? They said "character development is done, mate. Now go to war.”
Then again, is OCM a product and evidence of MWIII’s rushed development? 100% yes. I don’t give a shit if they cover it with “oowh we make OCM so you can play the missions differently each time without repeating the same mission over and over again!”. Let me ask you this, Activision - Have ‘repeating the mission over and over again’ been a problem with us campaign-enjoyers? No! I played the MWII campaign like 5 times, in all difficulty (except realism I still love my life), and I enjoyed it, because the mission designers took a lot of time and thought to it instead of just creating a map, putting a bunch of loadouts scattered around the area and throw us in it. So yes, it’s clear that OCM is a product of rushed development. It sucks the life out of the campaign missions.
Some people may enjoy it, but I play the campaign exactly for the linear style missions, not DMZ style.
(+) Look, I said it before that I will go to the campaign with the lowest expectation possible. I expected Mak to be sub-par, I expected them to play safe with the characters, and BOY WAS I WRONG. Setting aside the point above where the character feels stuck on the character development (which is a huge minus btw), all the characters have time to shine in their own missions, especially Price because I feel like we play him the most. However, I do also love the fact that the girls get shit done here. Farah and Laswell did their work so beautifully and apparently it was revealed that Laswell will be a MP operator, so that’s cool. 
(+) Ghost being a menacing presence, can stood his ground. Price being level-headed though at the same time unhinged as usual. Gaz being the voice of reason throughout the entire fucking game LMAO. Soap being the brave man he is, the passion and fury is evident throughout the campaign. Farah being badass and dependable as usual. Alex being the main supportive guy to Farah (Faralex is canon at this point argue with a wall). Nikolai being our most reliable get-away guy.
And of course, Graves and Shepherd being the fucking goofy ahh duo I actually find interesting. The trial cutscene was such a goofy scene LMAO the fact that they backstabbed each other in the ass is real funny. I side with Graves though. However wrong and unhinged he may be, Graves is just a guy doing his job and did what he’s told to do.
(+) I love the fact that Mak tried to frame Urzikstan to pin the blame on them. It's exactly what the OG!Makarov did but in HD. The Passenger mission is phenomenal and more damn traumatizing if only it was a bit longer and more stretched. There are many more reference to the OG games and I absolutely love it.
Now…
Soap’s Death
Remembering all the MWII missions with Soap... It hits differently now, man. 
(-) I've read a lot of people's arguments about it that the fact that it happened is just for shock value and kind of disappointing. Because let’s be real here, Soap is an SAS who got the name Soap because of how much of a slippery bastard he is. Granted, Mak is an ex-Spetsnaz and can fight with Soap. But how he went down in a goddamn takedown without any chance of fighting is just… it’s not it.
To add to that, the reaction from the boys is just... Underwhelming? Like I get it they're battle-hardened SAS soldiers, but let them show some damn emotions for fuck’s sake. One of the main reason why the OG!Soap’s death is really painful is because of Price’s reaction to it. How he said “NO. NO NO NO SOAP!!” While he shook Soap’s lifeless body in the table. At least let Price kneel to him, straighten his body, touch his vest. Close his eyes, gather Soap’s hand and PUT HIS GUN ON his chest all the while Ghost and Gaz knelt beside them. I do love the fact that they literally went to Scotland to let go of his ashes with Ghost holding the urn though. I cried in this scene. 
And the fact that it happened with the shortest campaign out of all the reboot MW games, it just felt rushed. Yes. It’s completely rushed, there’s no doubt about it. Again, the result of rushed developments.
(+) Now, with that said, I kind of want to shed light on how Soap is literally the youngest guy in the group. He had so much to live for. He's a sunshine in the middle of this gruff emotionally hardened man. He's such a joy to be around. He's brave. He's fresh. The fact that he's got so much to live for adds to the sadness and bitterness, which I actually like.
Sometimes I do kind of like those kinds of deaths, where the character is too soon to die,  because it hit so much harder and in a different way than the OG! one. We got to see the OG!Soap went from when he was an FNG, turn to a captain, to a man of fortitude that  earned Price's honor and sacrificed himself to protect Price. We saw how he developed and changed. We saw his entire career with us throughout all the OG!MW trilogy.
Reboot!Soap's story barely even started, and the fact that he's still so young, imagining how he'd be one hell of an officer, how he'd lead his team in the future. 
OG!Soap’s death is sad because all the times and memories we’ve been through with him, but Reboot!Soap’s death is equally sad for the times we could’ve gone through with him.
I want to say this though, some people said that Soap's death is sudden, but I wouldn't agree with that. I think the telltales are all there.
In the helicopter scene after Price and Soap caught him in Verdansk, Mak literally SAID HIS FULL NAME. That is a literal pinpoint death sentence from Makarov. And how emotional Soap’s reaction is compared to the other boys when the airport blew up. The signs are literally all there! I saw it coming actually. 
So is Soap’s death rushed? Yes. Could it have been executed better? Yes. Is it for shock value? Yes. But is it as sad? Yes. Honestly, I blame the rushed development and due dates for this. Activision is a cash grabber who wanted a yearly release so they can catch more money. I fucking bet my ass that initially they didn’t want to kill Soap, but it’s like a last-minute decision to make this game actually look like it’s worth 70 dollars. 
Like by the end of the game, nothing has been accomplished. Big Bad Guy is on the loose, and we lost Soap. Yea we did stop some of Makarov's attacks, but we ended with a loss. It's a completely sad ending. I just wish we get to continue with more missions after Soap's death like in OG!MW3 though :(
WHAT'S NEXT?
Now. Shepherd is positively fucken dead. Price is now an actual criminal and a fugitive. He just killed a 4-star US Marines general in his own office. Price is entering his insane and unhinged era. I do wonder if he'll go even more unhinged than this.
The story will undoubtedly continue in the MP seasons (although probably only 2 seasons that mattered because it'll also undoubtedly be filled with skins and collabs and shit). I think it will also focus more on transitioning to the next CoD games, which will be Black Ops (It is confirmed that for the 2024 and 2025 CoD, it will be Black Ops games).
We're talking future here, so if there's going to be a CoD MWIV, It might be possible that this is the game where we'll finally defeat Makarov while the 141 copes with losing Soap. I do wonder if Price will become too unhinged and will get rid of everything on his way to kill Mak. Price's reckless acts will become too much for Gaz that it's starting to hurt other people and himself, and Gaz will do something against Price's command or wish - and Ghost will have to choose a side. Now that's the kind of drama I want to see.
What do I score this campaign, what do I score this campaign... The story is actually good, but because the development is evidently rushed, the packaging feels a bit hollow. It's a 7/10 for me!
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Wait you know what
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We get to pet a dog named Riley. 10/10, Game of The Fucking Year.
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Reboot!Logan/Hesh (?) 👀
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So there it goes! If you've read this far I love you and Activision will pay for my therapy (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)
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hotchs-big-hands · 9 months
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dbf!hotch gifts reader a nannycam for their room. Fun ensues. Send tweet.
(basically reader being a camgirl but for hotchy’s eyes only) 😩
Okay okay I have to get this out FIRST like you don't understand this makes me fucking BARK ROME your mind is literally stunning babe OKAY LETS GO
Dbf!Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader
NSFW minors dni please!
Warning(s): consensual voyeurism, daddy kink, masturbation, just smut LMAO it's so filthy!! Also changes to Aaron's perspective after first break.
Should probably note idk exactly how nannycams work I just did some reading up and I'm sort of basing off that. Anyway, ENJOY!
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There it sat on the pristine dining table of your father's friend. A small, black cube no bigger than a dice awaited your response to its presence. Your eyes flicked to the man who had just placed it in front of you with a smirk, and you bit your lip.
"This is..."
Aaron raised a brow, the smirk growing.
"A little camera for you to place in your bedroom. Do you like it, sweetheart?" He said gently. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes returned to the tiny nannycam.
"Holy shit..." You felt heat rising in your face and burning in your abdomen. "I do, yes. Thank you, Aaron."
Aaron cupped the back of your head with his hand and leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead.
"This, pretty thing, is so I can check in on you when I'm away with work. You understand, right?"
He was close to your face, his eyes focusing on your bitten lip. You moved to straddle his hips and his hands were immediately on your thighs, squeezing them possessively. A little hum reverberated from you as you nodded at him and you placed your hands on his firm chest to help balance yourself as you shifted around on his lap.
"Mmh... come by mine later so you can help me set it up?" You asked sweetly, batting your eyelids innocently at him. He chuckled and the hands slid round to your ass and firmly gripped onto the flesh there.
"Of course, sweetheart. Gotta make sure it's working, after all."
Yes, much later in the day did you both finally make it to your home and set up the little camera on a shelf attached to the wall, cushioned between some ornaments. And the rest of the evening was spent "testing" the angle of the camera out with a feed linked to Aaron's phone. When you eventually collapsed against the pillows together, entangled and breathing heavily, your mind wandered to the possibilities you had to have a bit of fun whilst your lover was away. A tired, but excited smile pulled at your face as you snuggled into his bare chest and you drifted off to sleep.
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Three days had passed by after Aaron gifted you the little camera, and in that time he had, of course, been pulled away on a case. He hadn't yet had a spare moment to check in with you to ask if you were okay with him watching (he had made it clear that he wouldn't look unless you specifically said it was okay to do so) and admittedly, he was a little frustrated as a result. But work called, he had to focus on the current case instead. However, all was about to change with a simple text from you.
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Sweetheart❤: How's everything going? xx
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Aaron raised a brow as he stared at the text. You didn't normally contact him whilst he was working. He stepped away from the rest of his team for a moment to respond.
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Me: As well as the average case goes. Are you alright? X
Sweetheart❤️: I'm heading to bed now, but I'm not very sleepy...
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He felt himself tense a little, swallowing as he felt himself twitch in his slacks. He eyed his surroundings before he began to type.
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Me: Sweet thing, you've got to try and get some rest, yeah? X
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Moments later a photo came through from you, Aaron's breath hitched at the compromising position you were in, biting your lip and looking at the camera seductively.
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Sweetheart❤️: Guess you'd better check your footage later then 😇
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He quickly moved to press his back against a wall and typed furiously, slacks tightening.
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Me: You really think you can just tease daddy like this and not be punished when I return?
Sweetheart❤️: Gn, daddy 🥰 xx
---
Aaron groaned quietly and pocketed his phone, glancing down at his crotch and willing the slight bulge to disappear. You were in so much trouble when he finally returned home, but he had to admit he was eager to return to his hotel room that night to see what you'd been up to. With a sharp exhale out of his nose he slowly returned to the room to continue working on the case.
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Driving at the speed limit couldn't have been harder for Aaron than right now, desperate to make it back to the hotel and lock himself in his room. He knew the others could tell he was extremely tense and chalking it up to the difficult case, which admittedly, he was stressed out about, but he hadn't been able to keep you or the implications of your earlier messages out of his mind for the rest of the day.
So when he finally pulled into the hotel parking lot with Spencer and Derek in the car with him, he couldn't slam his door fast enough nor rush off into the hotel. He even took the stairs, two steps at a time, so he could get there quicker than waiting for an elevator. Finally. With his door locked his jacket and tie were quickly removed and his shoes toed off at the door, he crossed the room to the bed and he settled down on the edge of it and pulled his phone out.
He was eager, almost embarrassingly so but he didn't care. His thumb hovered over the app that was linked to the nannycam; his slacks were uncomfortably tight already. With a quiet exhale, he unbuckled his belt to give himself a brief sense of relief, then he clicked the app icon.
He remembered the estimated time you'd messaged him, scrolling through the footage from within the 12 hours of the day in the timezone you were in. Most of it was blank, obviously you'd been out for the day, but he slowed down the progress when your figure appeared, entering and leaving the room as you went about your evening. He smiled slightly in complete adoration of you, there was something so serene about watching you going about your time, a part of him secretly wishing he could witness all of it someday.
His thoughts were brought to a halt when you entered your bedroom dressed in a fluffy towel, having just returned from a shower. He shifted on the bed, settling back further as his eyes stared at the screen. At first, your back was to the camera when you unwound the towel from your body. Aaron narrowed his eyes slightly, wishing you would turn around. Then you did. Casually, you began drying your body off, dragging the fabric down your arms and across your neck. You paused, a little smile spread across your face and you moved the towel slower down your body.
His eyes followed the movement of your hand on the fabric, drifting down your chest and lingering. A deliberate, light brush against your nipples, then slowly drifting lower down your body. Tauntingly, you covered your crotch and Aaron groaned, holding his phone in his right hand whilst his left slid down to squeeze the growing bulge in his dress pants. You knew how he felt about you teasing him given you'd been punished for it already recently, brought to a point of begging him through tears to let you cum, to feel his cock inside you. Just the memory of it only made him strain against the fabric of his trousers more, so he unbuttoned them and slowly pulled the zipper down, a quiet grunt escaping him at the release in tension. His hand slipped inside, palming his cock over his boxers.
In the footage, you'd turned from the camera again and bent over to dry your legs, giving him a full view of your ass to him.
"Nngh, fuck." Aaron hissed, squeezing himself tighter. You walked out of frame, seemingly to hang the towel up to dry, but when you returned to the frame you were still in all your naked glory and there was no indication of that changing anytime soon. His eyes widened when you pulled open your bedside drawer and from it you took out one of his button down shirts, but his brow raised when you also picked up a small bottle, one that he knew very well.
"Oh, you naughty thing..." He whispered as you spritzed his cologne he thought he had misplaced a few weeks ago over the shirt he must have left behind at some point. You placed the bottle back into the drawer and held the shirt to your nose, climbing onto the bed to kneel, eyes closed as you inhaled deeply. Aaron groaned again quietly. He didn't know you did this, he would have to ask you if you did it all the time. It made him feel good to be so desired as this, he never expected anyone to want him as much as you clearly did. His cock was painfully hard now, and he pulled it from the top of his underwear with a hiss. The rosy red tip was already glistening with precum, he smeared it with his thumb and dragged it down the impressive shaft with a deep exhale.
Holding onto the shirt, you slowly pulled it down your body, rolling your hips as you brushed across your nipples again. And then, to Aaron's utter surprise, you moved the shirt down to your crotch and began to grind into it. He shuddered, cock twitching in his hand at the scene. You moved to the end of the bed, shirt still rubbing against your crotch, and knelt down, head against the bed with your ass angled towards the camera's general direction. Aaron swore under his breath as he began to slide his hand up and down his cock, squeezing his tip and using the precum that continued to leak out to lube himself. You were laying on top of the shirt, hand between your spread thighs as you touched yourself. Oh, how he wished he could hear your sounds right now.
He could imagine himself touching you in this position, teasing you as he rubbed his cock against your entrance. He wanted you to always have your face shoved against one of his shirts from now on, picturing you biting into it with every caress of his fingers or cock.
Your hips swayed and shuddered forward, your hand moving faster as you masturbated. Aaron moved his hand faster on his cock, thrusting up into his hand eagerly in time with your movements. He could tell you were close in the video, body shaking and back arching, it brought him closer to cumming as well. His chest heaved as he moaned, hips bucking when he watched you finally cum hard, staining his shirt no doubt, and pushing yourself until you collapsed, boneless. Not a moment sooner, Aaron groaned deeply as his cock shot rope, after rope of cum onto his hand and clothed chest. Slightly shaky, he quickly snapped a photo from his torso downward, hand still gripping his sensitive cock, and sent it to you.
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Me: Sweetheart, look what you've done to me. I'll be having a word with you about taking my cologne...
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Once the text was sent, Aaron let the phone drop onto the mattress beside him and groaned. His cock twitched in his hand, still aroused. He grimaced, knowing he needed to take a shower and shove his soiled clothes in the bottom of his bag. And so sluggishly, he forced himself to stand and make his way to the shower room.
When the new morning would come round, you'd wake up to more than just a picture.
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AWOOGA OKAY thank you so so so much for reading !! I hope this was kinda what you were thinking of babes, but I could defo expand on this in future tho should the demand be there 👀
Taglist: @cr1minalskies @modern-mermaid @aaronhotchnersgirlfriend @aaronhotchswife @crimeshowjunkie @igotanidea @gogococopuffs @prentissesredtanktop @howabouticallyou @lalalove-56 @constantwritingblock @boredelle @powerlvr25 @idkbubs @mrs-ssa-hotch @emptybagofchips77 @yourmomsmilfmistress @jesuisbenny @nplumb22 @supercriminalbean @elijahmikaelsonbitch @wowzabowza69 @frostingway @simpingfortoomanypeople @munsonsposts @spenciesprincess @creepysweetie @bruhhvv @regulus-black-223048 @brasspistol @0nex-is-dead0 @livingdeadmak @myescapefromthislife @sebastiansstanswhore @bumblebea-xo @hangmandruigandmav @sareim123122 @magical-spit
746 notes · View notes
roturo · 9 months
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BITE ME
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summary: being a vampire hunter wasn't easy, and it became rougher when you encountered a cute tall white-haired vampire that would change up your opinions about them
warnings: smut, blood, vampire!gojo x vampire hunter!reader, sub!gojo, dacryphilia, gojo cries during sex lmao, kinda rushed, piv, unprotected sex, overstimulation, kinda fucked dumb tbh, blood lust, like it was love at first sight yass, no one is in their right mind, just horny tbh, loved this idea, maybe oc gojo idk, bc he's such a cutie pie here, aghdhsagbdy this is cute that im even surprised, never wrote for sub!gojo but idk, enjoy.
TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK.
Since little you were taught many things, but the most important one is to always hate vampires.
Living in a community divided by unnatural human beings and well, humans, made society enter into a conflict if both kinds of communities should mix. 
Your family was a well known vampire hunter, you lived in a forest far away from the city where most of the vampires usually exist between humans. Being a medical student made you learn a lot about the species that killed your dad. So being a recognized ‘vampire hunter’ wasn’t such a good thing.
Maybe that’s why you couldn’t stand being near them, nor living with them. That’s why when you had a vampire as a patient (who are most of the time the ½ vampires) you made sure of learning all about them, learning how to defend yourself from them, and even might kill them.
You have a specific freezer for human blood and some samples of whatever type of blood vampires have. Spending most of the time examining the different types of cells and differences from the human blood.
And that’s the thing. Having human blood and being alone in the middle of nowhere is not the safest option to avoid vampires.
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Gojo Satoru is a well respected young vampire, not by his ancestors though, since he decided to live more of a ‘pacific lifestyle.’ Humans had this thing where vampires couldn’t feed themselves with human blood. At this rate he doesn’t know if the new generations are good for everyone or just for humans, and do not even dare to talk about animal blood, that’s disgusting. 
But when he has the chance of drinking human blood, I'm telling you, this man becomes insatiable. Maybe that’s why society invented other types of supplements for vampires. But coming from a lofty clan, he couldn’t live from those disgusting things human called ‘’food’’
And well... when he saw this cute lady coming out from the hospital with a case full of blood bags (thanks to his supernatural power to identify the delectable human blood on his own) he couldn’t resist himself from following you until you got home.
Please let it be possible that vampires can be knocked out, you thought. You couldn't believe a vampire was standing right infront of your freezer looking for something. With all of the strength you could muster up, you swung the pan down right on his head, no doubt strong enough to give anyone a major concussion. Immediately, he fell to the ground, as lifeless as he wouldn’t be if he wasn’t a vampire.
“Holy shit…” You breathed out, shoulders high and tense. Looking down at him, you noticed how young he looked, and in all honesty, he didn’t look threatening at all. You felt a tinge of worry, wondering if he wasn’t a vampire after all, and you might’ve just killed him.
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So that’s how you find yourself here and how you might met the love of your life.
Edging closer to the man, you bent down to see if he was breathing. He was completely still. That didn’t tell you much, though, as he could be dead or…the undead.
Thank god you had a basement here, especially if anything like this happened. I guess following your dad's steps really helped you out. Which was why it was the best place to drag the vampire into. Maybe you could keep him in there and question him on how the hell he got into your house, and at the same time, you could keep him at a safe distance from yourself.
He was much heavier than you thought he was, but you guessed that came from his height. He was still unconscious but you guessed that it wouldn’t be for long. Suddenly, two large hands grabbed the rusted metal bars from inside of the room and you screamed as his face had come into view like a jump scare.
“Get me out.”
You backed up from the window as far as you could, going to the other side of the room. You didn’t know why you were so scared, mainly because he was behind a locked door. You guessed that despite whatever vampire strength he had, he couldn’t get himself out.
Maybe it’s the hit on his head still playing games? The metal bars your dad gave you for this?
“What are you doing? Let me out!” He frowned. “Why did you put me in here?”
“W-why are you in my house?” You asked him. He didn’t say anything for a second.
‘’Ah.. shit.’’ Right, the blood bags. “Bitch, I was hungry!” He yelled back, making you recoil. Did he just call you a bitch? “That’s why I’m here, because I was hungry and I thought that maybe I could steal some of the blood bags you have.’’
‘‘Have you been stalking me?!’’ How does this vampire know about the blood bags?!
‘‘Uh-... no?... Yes.’’
You sighed. “Do you have anywhere else to go?”
“No…not really.” He said as if he was embarrassed. “I decided to drop out of college when I turned, so I can’t go back on campus.”
 “You can stay here if you want.” You didn’t exactly feel sure about him staying here, but he might help you with your research. He’s still a vampire after all… he’s a threat. But fuck it, that's how you learn new things. You asked for his name after you told yours.
‘‘Okay… Gojo Satoru. But you have to stay in there for a while, until I trust you.’’
“What about when I’m hungry?” He asked.
“I’ll figure that out’’
“What about when I’m lonely?”
“...’’
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The faint sound of Gojo calling in your name woke you up. 
“What the fuck…?” You frowned, squinted eyes getting used to the sunlight. “Oh my fucking gosh.” You quickly got up from your bed, putting on your slippers, and stumbling out of your room, barely able to walk in a straight line. You stomped your way down two flights of stairs until you were met with Gojo holding on to the bars again. “What?!”
“Hi.” He greeted you. “It’s tomorrow, right? I can’t really tell since I’ve been locked in a basement of a dungeon with no light. But if it’s tomorrow, can I have a blood bag? It’s been weeks since I’ve eaten.’’
‘‘And why haven’t you eaten? There’s literal stores for you, vampires!’’
‘‘Ah.. well… I don’t like those.’’
‘‘What?...’’ You looked at him in disbelief for a few seconds. “You woke me up at 7 in the morning for a blood bag?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know it was 7.” He shrugged. You opened up the door of the cell, walking up the stairs, still tired from waking up only ten minutes ago. You heard him follow you, steps surprisingly light for someone as tall as he was.
He started looking around your house, kinda creepy for a vampire if you keep looking at weapons for them.
‘‘Um.. Are you a vampire hunter?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
He chuckled at your answer and sat on top of the table. ‘Why? Weren’t they banned like years ago? Humans even live with vampires, that’s silly from you.’’
‘‘Maybe I wouldn’t be silly if your kind didn’t killed my dad.’’
.... Shit. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.
‘‘Oh... I’m sorry.’’
You sighed, he didn’t mean it in a bad way, he shouldn’t receive this type of behavior from you.
‘‘It 's… okay. I’m not a vampire hunter like it, i’m more like a vampire examinator?’’ Well, you didn’t even think about that one before, if you didn’t want to kill vampires why are you doing this?
You handed him a blood bag from the freezer, watching his eyes light up made you slightly smile, he’s kinda cute. You woke up from your trance and slightly shook your head away from those thoughts.
“Remember not to rip it open and spill it.” You said. “Especially not on these old floors, it’ll soak right in.”
“Oh…right.” He said, twisting open the nozzle and drinking from there. You watched him down it in less than thirty seconds, his brows furrowed in concentration. After he was done, he set it down on the counter.
‘‘Uh.. Can I stay again tonight?... I can sleep on the floor again!’’
....
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One night turned into two nights, and two nights turned into a week, and a week, turned into a month.
You found yourself smiling at him, not noticing how used to him you’ve gotten. He was very peculiar in the least, but you guessed that was mainly because of him being a vampire. You found yourself wondering what he was like when he was a human. It was weird to know that the two of you were always in such close proximity without knowing it. Maybe it was fate. You snapped back into reality once he smiled at you, and you didn’t even think to return the smile. Instead, you looked down at your hands, picking at your nails as if you were busy. Honestly, you were embarrassed to get caught looking at the handsome vampire with boyish charm.
“Y'know…you’ve been holding out really well, so far.” You told him. “You have even helped me with my researches, nothing that I didn’t knew about, but still helped me confirm me”
He turned to look at you. “Really?” He asked, eyes brightening up a little.
“Really.” You nodded with a smile, and he lazily smiled back. “So, I’ve decided to give you a little present.”
“A present? What is it?” He asked curiously, words muffled by the fact that he was still entranced by the tv and some vampire supplement you bought for him 
“Guess.” You told him, feeling a bit mischievous. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s almost like…Why did we meet in the first place.”
“Hm?” He tilted his head to the side. “I’ve never hit you with a pan though? Or have I?” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought.
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t think too hard, you even called me bitch for it’’
“But I really can’t think of anything?” He said. “Can you just give me it? I’m not good at this guessing game…”
“Satoru…” You sighed, something was happening to you, on him... leaned towards him, softly caressing his cheek and giving him a small peck. That wasn’t the surprise, and you were as surprised as him when you did that. It’s just that his eyes looked so beautiful, his messy hair covering his forehead, and his cheeky smile while watching some shitty show on the tv... He froze in surprise, enough to not be able to kiss you back. 
“Oh…” He chuckled nervously, and you swore something on him changed the moment he looked right into your eyes again. “Can you maybe do it again?” He asked.
You responded with another kiss, one that he had returned this time, except for more fervor. It was like he was waiting to kiss you, dreaming about your lips on his. Did this mean…that you felt the same? Were you as infatuated with him as he was to you? He doubted that it was possible. All without you knowing, he might’ve fallen in love. Falling in love with a vampire, what they trained you hate most...  It only had to be fate that brought you two together.
“I really like you.” Gojo blurted out once you two parted.
“Do you mean that?” You asked him, slight insecurity peeking out from your otherwise hard shell. “I doubt you’ve met very many people in your life.”
‘‘Oh I have, but no one could compare to you sugar.’’ His lips attached to yours again, it’s like he was waiting for this moment his whole life.
¨S-satoru, wait!¨ He immediately stopped his actions, looking worried and for any kind of threat in you.
‘‘That wasn’t the surprise, you can try human blood again.’’
‘‘You got new blood bags? That’s amazing!’’ He was about to stand up from the couch when you stopped him sitting down on his lap, which made him froze.
‘‘I mean it's like… human, human. You can try my blood.’’
‘‘What?'' Silence passed.
''Are you sure? You’re not going to kill me or something right? I’ve seen those knifes you have in the basement and that could sure even kill Dracula.’’ You nodded and laughed at what he said.
He gulped, dark red eyes honing into the beating vein on the left side of your neck. He hesitantly bent down, nose to your neck as he took a big whiff of your sweet blood. He shut his eyes, fighting off the instinct to groan at just how good you smelled.
You chuckled at his reaction, ‘‘I mean it Satoru, this is me saying I like you too. I trust you.’’ With one more second of hesitation, he bit into your neck with his sharp fangs, and you felt a sharp pain. Your grip on his shoulders got tighter as you tried to distract yourself from the pain.
He couldn’t stop the moans of satisfaction at the magnificent taste of your blood, and you gradually noticed that something felt weird. You still felt the pain on the bite, but Gojo’s demeanor changed. It was almost as if he was enjoying it too much. His hands were grabby, not only on your hips, but in your waist and your bottom, and you gasped in surprise.
You started to notice what was going on when you felt how hard he was, his bulge pushing into your stomach.
¨’Toru…?’’ You breathed out, feeling light headed. He moaned, suddenly grinding his lower half into you. He then retracted his fangs, looking at you with wide, lust blown eyes, your blood dribbling down his chin.
“I’m s-sorry-“ He whined, placing you on the counter and rutting himself into you. “I’m so sorry, I-I don’t mean, to, I can’t help it-“ He broke out into an erotic moan, and despite how lightheaded and out of it you were, it aroused you to no end.
You assured him it was okay, looking into his eyes, you could find lust, but mostly embarrassment from it. You didn’t know that he could get this worked up from his own bloodlust, but you weren’t complaining. The only thing you had a problem with was the fact that there were too many clothes separating the both of you, but you didn’t think neither of you were in the right minds to seperate and take each article off.
“Can I be inside of you?” Gojo asked in between harsh breaths. “Please, please, please, I want to so bad-“ It was almost as if he was in pain, rutting into you so hard that you bounced on top of his lap each time. You nodded your head aggressively, opening your legs so you were caging his. You were wearing black leggings, and you thought that they’d be quick and easy to take off, but Gojo instead decided to rip them down the middle, doing so with ease.
“Satoru…!”
“Sorry! It’s just… I can’t take it any more baby..” He apologized over and over again, even as he released his cock from its confines, holding the thick base in between a shaky fist. He moved your panties to the side and slid in with one thrust. The both of you whined loudly at that, and he couldn’t wait any further before he started pounding into you with fervor. You heard the sound of your wet heat, but you didn’t care, mouth agape in a silent scream as he pounded into you with no remorse.
Well…some remorse. He couldn’t stop apologizing as he fucked into you, begging for you to forgive him for being so dirty and succumbing uncontrollable urges.
You yelped as he picked you up from the back of the couch, holding you in his arms as he dropped you on his cock over and over.
“Fuck!” You cursed. “M-more, more-“ You chanted, feeling his cock deep inside of you. You saw tears start to slide down his cheeks and he cried with pleasure. You clenched around him, wanting to see him unravel even more, which made him fuck you on his cock even faster, using you like a rag doll. His vampire strength had kicked in once he drank your sweet blood, something that he was afraid he’d get addicted on since he tasted you for the first time.
He was addicted to your warmth, your lips, your blood, and especially the way your pussy just sucked him in, holding tight and never letting go
“F-fuck, ‘toru, I’m cumming!” You moaned, your pussy convulsing around his cock and making him go crazy. You came around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He nearly slammed you into a wall, fucking you roughly, the slick from your cum making it easier to slide in and out of you.
You were extremely overstimulated, your abused pussy needing a break, but Gojo couldn’t stop. He let out nearly pornographic moans as he fucked you through yet another orgasm, not even noticing exactly what you were going through.
You just had to sit there, his cock inside of you, moaning his name again and again., taking just what he needed to give you.
“Oh fuck, (Y/N)-“ He whined, more tears spilling out of his eyes. You were out of it, dazed and cock drunk. “I’m gonna cum— ah!” He mewled out as he finally came, stilling inside of you as he filled you up. His legs shook as he shut his eyes tightly in pleasure.
After he finally calmed down, it was as if he returned to his senses. He quickly pulled out, immediately apologizing as you winced. He gently put you down, but your knees buckled, almost dropping to the floor, yet he caught you.
“(Y/N), I’m so sorry-“ He said, putting his softening member back in his pants. “I can’t believe I just did that to you, I really didn’t mean to, are you okay?“
“‘Toru, I’m fine.” You said to him, holding onto him tightly so you wouldn’t fall. You were still a bit lightheaded, but you were able to reassure him. “I didn’t expect it, but I’m really okay.”
“You shouldn’t have let me drink from you.” He said, tears still falling. “I’ve ruined everything, how could I get so out of-“
You interrupted him with a kiss to shut him up.
“Listen, ‘toru…” You said softly, the nickname making him calm down a bit. “You did nothing wrong. At all. I am more than fine. In fact…I really liked it.”
You watched as his ears got red. “Y-you liked…that? Did I not hurt you?”
You shook your head with a chuckle. “No. In fact…you made me feel really…really good.” You smiled, making him get even more flustered. “I’m just kind of tired. As good as you made me feel, you wore me the hell out.”
“I can carry you to your bed.” Gojo said, quick to pick you up. she then noticed your ripped leggings and destroyed panties. He gulped, feeling even more sorry. “And I can help you change into clothes that aren’t ripped…”
¨What if I tell you I want another round?¨
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thatdeadaquarius · 9 months
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OKAY BUT I HAVE MORE IDEA FOR BLUNT READER CUZ I LOVE THAT AU SO MUCHANDMDJFKSLDKF
So you know how french people's insult are always outta pocket (from a person who's first language is french I can tell you that no other language compares in insult -apart for African languages)
Like,, some "bad" insult here would be : bitch, fuck off, whore,..
Which we can all agree is boring...
BUT THEN IN FRENCH!!!
We be getting creative with it
Eg.
"mange tes mort" wich translates to "eat your dead (relatives)"
"vas te fair enculer" means "go get yourself pegged in the ass"
(yes, we have a specific word for being fucked in the ass 💀)
AND THOSE WOULD BE THE COMMON ONES AS WELL
English could never compare ✨
BUT ANYWAYS
how would the characters react if reader was from france/ belgium/ canada(or any other french speaking country) and started cursing people out like they eould do in their home countrie !?!?
The eay their face would drop
We would make a couple of people cry
AND GOD(us haha) FORBID A KID OVER-HEAR US AND STARTS REPEATING US
Trying to un-teach them would be hell *cries*
Your thoughts?
Love yaaaa~
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ABSOLUTE TOP TIER ORAH MY BELOVED!!
Nobody has any idea how much I HATE ENGLISH both for its rules/pronounciation BS/etc. But also, most importantly, THERES LIKE NO GOOD CUSS WORDS- OR LIKE CUSS PHRASES??
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I HAD TO PUT THIS GIF BC THAT WAS LITERALLY ME WHEN I HAD THE REALIZATION TO LOOK UP OTHER LANGUAGE CUSS WORDS AND I WAS JUST BLOWN AWAY BY HOW GOOD THEY WERE- HOW CREATIVE- 😫😭🥲 ENGLISH WHY R U SO SHITY IN EVERY POSSIBLE LANGUAGE SITUATION-
like idk we got "eat shit and die / fuck off / go fuck yourself" ???? Like- thats pathetic 😟.
I love hearing someone just cuss smbody out their native language/non-english, it’s so badass and cool to see
Anyway u already know i love non-native english speakers from the bottom of my heart✨️
GOD I FUCKING LOVE BLUNT LANGUAGE AU ITS LIKE ONE OF TOP FAV AS U CAN PROBABLY GUESS I COULD WRITE A LITERAL FANFIC ENTIRELY OFF THIS SIMPLE PREMISE 💖💓💗💞❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
omg so i HAVE SPECIFICALLY HEARD ABT FRENCH BEING RLLY CREATIVEEE
and i researched french cusswords/phrases,,,
😭 BRO IM CRYING
“bête comme ses pieds!” IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR-
(trans: you’re as stupid AS YOUR FEEEEEETT)
idk what’s funnier, you translating urself in real time and saying all these phrases to ppl,
OR just scaring the ever-loving shit out of every teyvat citizen within a mile radius bc oh wow- you look pissed, so yeah somebody’s about to lose all their self-esteem for the rest of their life bc ur insults are known to be extra cutting bc ur so blunt-
OH CREATOR ABOVE (…oh creator, present??)- you changed to your holy language FOR THIS???
everybody just giving the npc the most bombastic side-eye for pushing you to do this,
or even just you stubbing ur toe/ate food when it was too hot
or my favorite, getting onto ppl like Wanderer when they do smth silly lmao
STOP I HAD A FOUL THOUGHT OF GETTING ONTO Ei AND WANDERER (like ei for not keeping him/at least giving him to someone else to raise, then all the shit he did as Scaramouche lol)
AND THIS CUSSWORD COMES OUT UNDER UR BREATH OR SMTH- DOES THIS FIT BC THIS KILLS ME:
“Putain de salope…” (whore of whore, I LIED IT MEANS FUCKING BITCH LMAO😭)
JUST GETTING THE MOM AND THE SON IN ONE FULL BREATH CRYINGGGG
STOPPP wanderer using it against other ppl ever since u used it lol
oh no stop dont bring the kids into thisss 😭😭
Klee would deffo be the first one to pick up ur words and use them, omg she just uses them as catchphrases like when throwing her bombs 💀
“Mange tes mort!” JUST WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE AS SHE THROWS HER HUGE SKILL BOMB INTO A FISH POND
Venti would definitely make sure the winds “pass along phrases of the sacred All-God language!”
which just means anyone who UNDERSTANDS YOU JUST GETS GENTLY CREATIVELY CUSSED OUT BY THE WIND IM SOBBINGGG
i hope u guys are having a great summer! its basically too hot to go outside where I am, not unless ur going straight into the water or smth
which hey, ill be doing that this weekend, floating down the river about an hour away from my house with friends! :]
which,,, if anyone sees this, U GOTTA HELP ME THINK OF A 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE THING TO DO IDK WHAT TO DO BUT I WANNA CELEBRATE IT BC I NEVER THOUGHT THATD HAPPEN!! lmk what u think in the comments if u read this!
Safe Travels 0rah,
💀♒
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi
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futurecorps3 · 10 months
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Hobie Brown partying with latina!reader<3
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Masterlist<3
SUGGESTIVE!!! MDNI GO AWAY OR ILL BITE YOU
I’m already giggling about this shit and haven’t even started it 🤭 just picture that emoji cause that’s how i look rn. This is written from my perspective which is from a mexican living in Mexico going to 100% mexican perreos!!!
-It took a while to convince him to be honest
-Don’t take it the wrong way though!! He’s supportive and go ahead, perrea hasta el suelo but it’s just not his scene
-He’s not a reggaetón hater, he believes every type of music has a merit to it!! BUT ITS JUST NOT HIS SCENE
-Hacerle ojitos was enough to convince him lmao
-“Mi amor please! I want you to meet my friends” You whined, looking up at him all dressed up for the party that started in about thirty minutes. How could he say no when you were looking so pretty? “Shit ‘aight” He muttered, leaving to do his makeup as you kissed his cheek sweetly
-Now when y’all get there
-HE’S ASTONISHED TO SAY THE LEAST
-Yeah sure, mosh pits were crazy and the pubs he frequently attended were also wild but seeing
-People making out with a stranger then the next, some couple basically fucking in the couch next to the door, a girl downing shots like there was no tomorrow, besos de tres, and most importantly; el perreo.
-My man gets shy n shit like he holds your hand. pls help him no entiende nada
-Your friend approaches you with two plastic cups with some golden liquid that didn’t even reach the half of the cup. “Hey Hobie! Nice to meet ya’, my name’s Martha. Tengan, para ambientarse and getting the party started for you two!”
-Hobie thought it was dumb to drink so little of something, even more when he saw how effortlessly you downed your shot. “What’s this shit?”
-Tequila. It was Herradura. Now he knows why you pour so little for a single shot.
-HE WAS WHEEZING, SPILLING HIS GUTS OUT AND ABSOLUTELY BAFFLED BECAUSE HOW DID YOU DRINK THAT WITHOUT EVEN FLINCHING?????
-Your male friends definitely laughed a bit at that, pero en buena onda, they know how important Bee is to him so they’d never be mean to him hehe
-“Ay cabrón, Martha le dio tequila?” One of your friends say while laughing, his arm rounding your boyfriend’s tall figure “Sí, no soportó” You laugh back, kissing Hobie softly
-Your friends got to know him, silently questioning his intentions and stuff but not like they’re your parents. They mean well!! They just want their friend to be happy with this new dude, and some of them are men, so they definitely know how shit they can be
-“So this is what usually happens?” He asks, looking around as he takes it all in “Yup” you nod, popping the ‘p’ and smiling “I love it”.
-He found it all very freeing; no one judging, everyone moving as they pleased and drinking like hangovers weren’t real. No labels, no consistency. Just fun.
-Then… your friends pulled you to the circle to dance
-And he was done for.
-Seeing how you moved your hips in circles (something he was now sure was sort of a generic gift) changed his life forever
-You danced with your girlfriends, making a line of grinding and twerking from time to time. Some of their boyfriends reaching out to dance with them
-“Holy shit” Hobie muttered, entranced by how you ass moved in those shorts “Yeah, it’s something else” One of your friends who was now friends with Hobie (bonding over playing vodka beer pong) answered.
-“Try to dance with her man, I know you’re foreign and stuff but I don’t think Y/N/N would mind teaching you”
-His feet take him to you before he knows
-“Want me to teach you, love?” You shout so he can hear you over the music, and he just nods with a smile, holding your hands
-“Your work is just moving with me with your hands on my hips, look at Martha and her boyfriend”. He noticed how your best friend’s boyfriend kept a tight grasp on Martha’s hips, going down with her and up again if she did.
-Hobie replicated his moves and soon he got the hang of it
-Big, ring-clad fingers holding your waist tightly as he loosened his hips and felt your ass grinding against his crotch. You can feel how his tall figure looms over you, towering your smaller frame and you love it.
-As he gets more confident, he starts pulling you closer, kissing your neck from time to time and pulling away for a bit so you can scream some lyrics with your friends and then go back to him.
-It's safe to say he has a boner, yeah
-To you? It felt like an absolute dream! Imagine him grinding behind you to some track of Un Verano Sin Ti as he sings along to some of the chorus’s lyrics <3
-You got wasted, danced the night away, he perfected his spanish and you accomplished your dream; ver a Hobie Brown, el punk, perreando.
˚ · • . ° .
TAGS: @kirbyskisses @angeliquecherie @cowboycurtis56 @backyard-bear @lilacspider @gktyo @katsukiswrld @elusive-honeydew @solanawrld
I'm actively ignoring my full inbox to write this so it better not flop. HERMANAS lemme know if u like it and leave in the replies what else would you like to see from hobie with a latina reader
Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!
Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3
NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.
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ranfordgallus · 21 days
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SPOILERS FOR THE NEW WILD KRATTS MOVIE "our blue and green world"
Dude i just finished this fucking series and its...its so much im losing my mind rn/pos
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This picture makes me wanna pull the trigger what is my life without them yall
Okok...heres my opinions on the new movie↓
I honestly love how we get to see more chris and martin fighting, usually the other fights are like...it doesnt last long but THIS where they just seperate eachother i went crazy like WHAT
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Paisleys character development is CRAZY BRO like i thought I'd never see a villain like...change their ways from what i remember from wild kratts
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Its crazy that i actually started sympathizing her like holy shit i love the character development, she used to be my second hated character (first is zach) and that scene where she changed her mind on being a villain i was blown away honestly, there are alot of villain in wk that i feel sympathetic for but zach is just the most unlikeable villain i could ever meet
Honestly my complaint is that zach is there, hes like a pest or a parasite i need him terminated this is a kratt brothers episode this does NOT have to have zach crawling in there like GTFO LET ME HAVE MY SIBLING ANGST DAMNIT
And also when chris and martin started singing....now this is my opinion but im not a big fan when characters sing out of nowhere like musical scenes whatever you call it because you never see an episode where a character has a musical scene in wk until now so i got caught off guard LMAO
And thats all i had to say honestly, i love this movie, probably the best movie yet im so glad wild kratts kept feeding me more of that wkcocain to snort on i love it
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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If Shy Thing wanted to go down on Johnny just like Feral to see if she likes it and stuff, would it go pretty much the same as how it went with Feral and Simon? Johnny has to excuse himself to finish? LMAO or would he coax her into finishing him?
Oh getting her to ask would be impossible. But if she’s tossing a lot of looks his way…. blushing extra bright…. he’d offer. And Shy Thing would hesitantly nod, kneeling over him, murmuring that she hasn’t done this much and she’s nervous so please don’t move, Johnny, it’s scary.
He promises not to - and he doesn’t. But he’s sure to be encouraging, telling her exactly what she’s doing right and what he likes. Making suggestions like “if you flick your tongue there - holy hell baby, just like that” but overall abiding by her wishes. When it got to be too much though, he’d warn her.
“Lass, i need to go take care of this if you don’t want to finish me yourself.”
She pulls away, blinking and a little glassy-eyed. “How… how would i…?”
“Wouldn’t take much,” he admits, groaning. “Just get your pretty lips around the head and do that thing with your tongue and I’ll handle the rest.”
So she does, curious. He doesn’t fuck into her mouth, rather wraps his hand around the rest of it, her lips touching his thumb, and does something she can’t see. It’s a little difficult to coordinate, but it doesn’t seem so bad and she likes the taste of him on her tongue.
He pulls her away when he cums, makes sure none of it gets on her pretty, flushed face and instead makes a mess of his own shirt. She blinks at him in wide eyed shock, wet lips parted.
“There’s so much,” she whispers in awe.
It takes him a second to remember words as he milks the last of it.
“Yeah, well, it’s been a bit, hasn’t it.”
She gently tugs at his hand, can’t look him in the eye as she licks a drop of cum from his fingers.
“Tastes weird,” she admits, “but not… terrible.”
He laughs and sits up to give her a proper kiss, moaning at the taste of himself in her mouth.
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
Note
HOLY SHIT JASON TODD DICK PIC STORYLINE PT. 2 PLEASE ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING, SOBBING, ETC.
Eat up my love!! I’m loving this little storyline and I’m so glad you want more. Only best friends send nudes to each other lmao.
**
You can’t even look at him.
It feels a lot like vertigo, feels like your whole world has been turned on its side. Upended, or maybe even rear ended to leave you spinning and desperately trying to correct the uncontrollable tailspin of your life.
Jason isn’t exactly small–not anymore anyway. He’s a brick wall at the best of times and when he puts on that helmet he swells to nearly untouchable. He’s carried you home drunk, he’s let you sit on his shoulders to reach the top shelf in the supermarket.
He’s big.
But after seeing that photo on your phone, you’ve been forced to realise that Jason Todd is big everywhere.
“I can’t even fucking look at you.” Hiding your face with one hand, you use the other to bring your custom made ‘worlds worst friend’ mug to your mouth. The coffee burns your tongue and Jason pauses in flipping the pancakes on your stove.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart. It was just a photo of my dick, it’s not like I dropped my pants in front of you.” Jason replies, pointing the spatula in his hands at your face. “It’s not my fault you can’t look me in the eye.”
“I’ve seen your penis!” You exclaim, eyes darting everywhere but his face. “It’s kind of difficult to look at you when I’ve seen something like that.”
Jason rolls his eyes and goes back to making breakfast, “It’s not that big of a deal you know.” His eyes suddenly light up, a smirk lifting his mouth at the corner and your stomach immediately flips on its side. “I mean, if you want to make it even, you could always show me one of those nudes you were on about?”
Something coy rubs up your spine and for the first time in three days you look him in the eye, “Wanting some new material for those quiet nights at home, huh?”
Jason swallows, the smallest flush of pink caressing his throat. You’re quickly no longer in the mood for pancakes and coffee and that photo flashes up behind your eyes like it’s ingrained across the inside of your skull.
“Jus’ want to make it even.” He finally gets out. “And I wouldn’t say no to having a pretty picture of you.”
“What? All the selfies I send you aren’t good enough?”
Resting his hip against the counter, Jason levels you with an unimpressed glare but you see the glimmer of laughter in his eyes, “The last selfie I have of you is the one you sent me whilst in the bath.”
Recognition flares awake and you snigger, “Oh, the one where I made a beard out of bubbles?”
“Yeah, and let me tell you, it’s still funny.”
Putting your mug down on the counter next to your thigh you pick up your phone, “Tasteful or slightly slutty?” You ask. The heated look Jason sends your way answers the question without words. “Slutty it is.”
It’s not the most scandalous photo you’ve taken of yourself, but it’s definitely not the most innocent either.
The photo shows you in front of your bedroom mirror, knees slightly bent and legs parted far enough to reveal the thin scrap of red lacy underwear barely covering anything. You’re bare from the waist up and use your phone to cover your face.
It’s a fairly simple pose but there's something about it that you know will drive your best friend insane.
Jason’s phone chimes when you send the photo and he wastes no time in picking it up to look at the screen. Waiting patiently for a reaction you study him intently, reading every slight shift in his weight.
“Are those what I think they are?” He finally asks and you notice straight away how strained his voice is.
“Mm-hmm, they were part of a set.” You confirm. “Who knew they did Red Hood lingerie, huh?”
Jason glances up, his pupils so dilated you can hardly find any colour there at all, and turns so his body is facing away from you.
“You’ve got a hard on, haven’t you?” You tease, ruthless.
“Shut up.” Jason chokes, unable to put his phone down. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
Your smirk comes easy, “It’s not that big of a deal you know.”
“If you say another word, I’m throwing your pancakes in the bin.
**
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jake-webber · 2 months
Text
SOBER (NOT) | COLBY BROCK
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ANON: “drunk moments with colby brock (got inspired by kat’s old drunk streamss) platonic and maybe male reader?”
PAIRING colby brock x platonic!male!reader
BEFORE READING i love the drunk streams i watch them whenever i wanna feel something. also, love this req despite having the hardest time to write this lmao, kat and sam r still together here (let me be delusional),
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It was around 3 hours in Kat’s livestream did you start feeling yourself loosening up from the immense amount of alcohol you’ve down – you couldn’t name them even if you wanted to – but it seemed you’re not the only one, despite how many times he’s been denying it the whole stream.
“Chat, can we make another poll for who’s the drunkest? Cuz I’m sure Colby’s the drunkest.” Kat said to her chat with a cheeky grin on her face. You chuckled to yourself when you see Colby ripping his attention off of his phone to react.
The said boy gasped, “I am not!” He exclaimed. “You’re telling me I’m the drunkest when this guy is right here.” Colby pointed his finger towards your declining posture from your sit behind Kat.
You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Hey, it’s rude to point, you bitch.” You lean towards Colby with a finger jabbing on his chest. “You’re literally so loud right now and you’re only this loud when you’re shitfaced drunk.”
“I’m always this loud!” He yelled, a vein popping out from his neck. Sam looked at the camera in disbelief. “Dude, you gotta calm down.” He said, making you and Kat laugh.
The argument eventually dies down a bit as Kat continues to talk with her chat. You can’t remember what you were doing before Colby had his hand wrapped around your neck and one arm around your torso.
“What the fuck are you doing? Let go of meee…” You tried to get away from him by pushing him off with all your strength, but that only resulted for him to tighten his grip even further, though not enough for you to feel pain, thankfully.
“Not until you admit you’re the drunkest.” Colby whispered into your ear, a mischievous smile on his lips.
“You’re still on that?”
“I never left, baby.”
“That just confirms the fact that you are drunk, if not, the drunkest.” Your drunk self decided it was a good idea to tease him, knowing full well how to push Drunk Colby’s buttons, which didn’t really help you to get out of the your current situation.
It seems to work though when you see him puff his cheeks out of annoyance, pulling you closer to him, a bit rougher this time. It caught the attention of Sam first who only watched the scene. You didn’t do anything to fight back at first, humoring Colby, and allowed him do whatever he’s doing before you feel yourself getting lifted off of your sit.
“Dude, what are you doing!?” You screeched, a very manly one, as he Colby placed you on his lap in attempt to give himself better grip to practically cut the air from your lungs.
“Colby! Holy sh- Get away from me!” You screamed one more time when he threatened to make you fall by moving his legs apart.
“I am not letting go.” He simply said with a chuckle, eyes back to the camera as if he wasn’t practically holding you hostage.
Instead of helping you out, Kat only laughed as Sam went back to drinking with a shrug. She moved her chair to let the chat see what Colby is doing to you. “I guess the poll was right, you guys?”
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A few hours into the stream, more people joined and kept the chat occupied, leaving you and Colby in your own world at the corner.
“I want to pee so bad.” You finally looked over to Colby after fulfilling your promise of ignoring him for a whole 15 minutes, eyebrows raised at the information. “I think my dick’s going to fall off if I move.” He winced in pain, holding on to his thighs.
If you weren’t as drunk as Colby right now, you would’ve told him to just go to the bathroom, but his words reminded you of your own bladder too. “Fuck, me too.”
“Will you hold on to mine if I hold on to yours?” He suddenly asked out of nowhere.
“Dude, no. You have hands.” You replied almost immediately, grossed out of the idea.
“But I’d be holding yours–“
“Why would you be holding my dick?!” Too engrossed into the conversation, you failed to kept your volume to yourself causing a chorus of ‘woahs’ and ‘whats’ from your friends.
Sam, being the closest to the two of you from his seat, turned around to face you both. “Do you guys want to share anything with the class right now?”
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You had excused yourself from the group to freshen up when Colby followed along. The closest bathroom was his so you entered his room without another word.
“Really making yourself at home, aren’t you?” He commented from behind you before walking past to slump on his bed.
You entered the bathroom, leaving the door open, as you answered. “Don’t act like I’m the only doing this to someone else’s room.”
Colby took a minute to answer, giving you the time to wash your face, “You have the comfiest bed in the whole house though.”
After drying yourself off, making you a bit sober from the cold, you entered back to the bedroom and saw him on his phone. “We have the same mattress, Colby.”
“It’s different.”
“Not really.”
You sat beside him on his silk sheets, pushing him to the middle of the bed and made yourself a bit comfortable. Though the shoes you had weren’t exactly fit for lying down.
You looked over at Colby, “You going back to the stream?”
This seemed to catch the boy’s reaction, making him stop his scrolling on his phone. “How many hours does Kat have?”
“Like, 10 hours still.”
Colby groaned, lazily throwing his phone on the pillows, sinking further down on the bed. “God, no. Are you?” He eyed you from his spot as you think. “Can Kat even do the 10 hours?” He added.
You chuckled, knowing full well Kat doesn’t have the sleep schedule that’ll let her stay up that long. “Yeah, I’ll just text her I’m tired.”
“Tell her for me too.” Colby squeezed himself to your side, looking at your phone as you began typing your message. He leaned back over your shoulder. “Take a picture of me with my eyes closed.”
“With your glasses on?” You said with an amused chuckle, opening your camera.
“It adds to it.”
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aaron-m-geist-ff · 2 months
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Hi, I hope your day is going well! 🫶🏻Omg the zodiac ask is such a cute idea!! If it's still open can I do one? 🥹 tiny 5'2 libra, she/her, love Halloween, just waiting for a man to toss me around like a ragdoll and not be afraid I'll break in the process tbh lol
Omg hello!! I also love Halloween ;) it’s my favorite holiday 🕷️🎃 and these asks started out with just a zodiac sign and a pronoun, now everyone has been sending me their hobbies and kinks and I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH LMAO.
You want to be treated like a ragdoll?? Sounds like you already know who you’re getting, Libra 😅 holy shit you’re gonna eat this up, I already know 🔮
_______________________________________________
Toji Fushiguro takes you to Spirit Halloween (smut)
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You got…🥁🥁🥁
Toji Fushiguro!
“I don’t even think that Spirit Halloween is open yet. It’s September,” Toji said flatly. He was busy eating some dumplings as you rambled on and on about preparing for Halloween.
“Oh, trust me. They’re open. We have to go now, Toji!! Come on!” You weren’t above begging. You knew that Toji was weak for you and would give you whatever you wanted if you begged for it. He seemed like such a rough man, and maybe he was, but he had a soft spot for you.
The two of you did end up taking your little shopping trip to Spirit Halloween. Toji followed you down the aisles aimlessly. He clearly didn’t know where to go so he just allowed you to take the lead. He totally wasn’t doing that just to stare at your cute ass 👀
He did pull a slutty nurse costume off the rack once, smirking as he handed it to you.
“Wanna take this one home?” He asked. You ended up swatting at his arm as you rolled your eyes.
Toji would definitely try a few of the animatronics, but he would just stand there with his hands shoved into his pockets. Completely unfazed by the jumpscares.
“What’s wrong, Toji? Aren’t you scared of those?” You questioned sweetly.
Your boyfriend scoffed.
“I’m scarier.”
…That was probably true. You had no idea what Toji did for work, but he did tell you that it was a dangerous job. That was kinda hot though. Jesus, you’re fucked up for liking that 😅
Eventually, the two of you would wander into the mask aisle. Toji jokingly put on a Michael Myers mask. He did it to be funny. But once he saw the insane blush on your cheeks, he started to catch on. His tiny girlfriend wasn’t just interested in Halloween for innocent reasons. She had a goddamn mask kink.
_______
You stared up at the Michael Myers mask, panting desperately as Toji’s cock drilled into your tight pussy. Your legs were spread impossibly wide to make room for him.
Toji’s waist was huge compared to your own, his chiseled abs glistening with sweat. He was breathing heavily as he fucked you good. But the panting sounds only reminded you of Myers even more. You could see your boyfriend’s sharp gaze peering down at you through the mask.
“Fuck, you’re such a whore,” Toji growled. “Thought you were innocent. Guess I was wrong.”
He held your waist firmly with his large hands. You wouldn’t be able to push him away if you wanted to stop. The thought of that made your brain turn to mush.
“Y-yes! I’m a whore for you, Toji…P-please don’t stop!” You begged even more. Your voice sounded so shrill and weak. You gasped with every sharp thrust.
Toji moaned lowly from the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his shaft. He was slamming right into your G-spot with every movement. It made you arch your back from the sensations.
“Shit…Can’t even fit all of me inside, huh? Such a pathetic little girl. I could break you, y’know.”
Toji knew how much you liked the size difference. He always brought attention to it whenever you had sex. It was difficult for him to achieve an orgasm with you due to your small pussy. Therefore he could last a lot longer, which you never complained about. You loved feeling him inside. And…That Myers mask was insanely hot.
“Y’er so fuckin’ wet from this mask,” Toji hissed. He grabbed your breast roughly and squeezed it with his powerful hand. You keened, whimpering and yelping as he picked up the pace.
“Ya like gettin’ fucked by a murderer, huh?”
You nodded your head enthusiastically, unable to form words any longer.
Toji smirked behind the mask. Little did you know, you actually got fucked by a murderer every night. ;)
Read more Toji here
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