#me when I remember every horrible fucking thing about his life

[soullessjack]

clawing and screaming and skinning myself alive Kelly told Jack he was gonna be so amazing and do so many good things and make the world a better place and he wanted to believe that more than anything in the whole world he wanted to make her death worth it and then every time he fucked up he thought he wasn’t worth it and when he killed Mary when he committed those atrocities he knew for a fact he was never worth it because Kelly’s paradise bringing miracle baby was a fucking lie and. He’s not his father and he’s not his mother but he still wants to be her so badly. So badly he’d go visit her parents just to give them closure and learn more about this side of himself and then they don’t even want him anymore. They don’t even know he’s their actual blood he’s their grandson. He’s just a monster to his own family and he tried so hard to be what Kelly wanted but he just isn’t he’s just jack he’s just stuck with what he is and what he’s done and he can’t fix any of it and nothing will ever be the same way it ever was before and he knows it and he knows it’s his fault because he did that to Mary he did that to the fucking Winchester Matriarch who he loved who he saw as his own mother who saw him as her own son . and he can’t ever take it back and everything will be different with Sam and Dean now because of it and it’ll even be different with Cas now because Cas shared the same miracle baby idea as Kelly and he was so proud of Jack at one point but now he knows that jack isn’t that either and he still loves jack but it’s still just not gonna be the same.I need to lay down

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

[norrisleclercf1]

Slipping Through My Fingers

pairing: Mafia!Jenson Button x Assistant!Reader

Words: 1.3K

Rating: R

Warnings: Blood, language, guns, hospital, etc.

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Hi If you are taking requests I might have one if you would like, obviously you don’t have to it’s just an ask So like Mafia!Jenson where like the reader gets injured and like ends up in the hospital and him being all worried. If you want of course.

A/N: I'm not sorry for this

Jenson turns in his chair, dropping the pen hanging from it. Your smile fades and turns to irritation as you know he didn't hear you. "I'm sorry, pretty girl. What'd you say?" Trying to cover up the fact he was completely ignoring you. "I asked; I'm going to pick up lunch later. What would you like?" You repeat, watching the thoughts move through his eyes.

Eyes you haven't been able to stop thinking about since Greece, and the way you two were so close, nothing came of it. His meeting had gone horribly, Fernando had sided with Jenson, but the newcomer to the business felt like he was being fucked around. Jenson didn't let you join, but you still remember the way the newcomer stared at you and the way Jenson was close to ripping his throat out.

"Don't, I'll order food, and we can eat here. Don't go outside without me." Jenson begs, voice softer than you've ever heard it. "Mr. Button, it's the annual luncheon. I have to go get the lunch." Jenson leans back in his chair and loosens his tie. "Pretty girl, please stay here where it's safe." Sighing, you fully enter his office and close the door with a soft click.

"Jens, what did that man say to you?" Jenson rips his eyes away from you, refusing to answer you. "Jenson," Moving, he hears the clicks of your heels and then the soft warmth of your fingers lifting up his chin. Dammit, he didn't want to look at you because he knew he'd cave looking into your eyes. "What did he say?" Jenson gives into his craving, splashing his fingers over your hips, and pulls you in, his forehead resting on your stomach.

"Nothing, he didn't say anything. I'm just being paranoid." He whispers and moves, turning his head and melting into your warmth; fingers digging into his hair, you tug it, feeling his breathing even out. "Jenson, I really need to pick up the lunch." His arms tighten before slipping away from your body. "Take Lewis with you." Wanting you to take him would give him a sense of security, but he already knows you are shaking your head.

"Lewis would try to control my every movement. Mr. Button, you said I'd have free control of my life and that you wouldn't let your…main job interfere with my life. This is interfering." Jenson hates it when you call him Mr. Button; it's just a show of the wall you have placed between each other. "You're right," Throat tight, he clears it and sighs. "Please be back in 40." You nod, step back, and walk out of the office.

He'd do anything to place a guard on you, but he didn't want to pull you deeper into his world. He refused to let his life be the thing that ended yours.

You rush out of the restaurant, holding a special lunch for you and Jenson. It was from his favorite steakhouse, and you knew it'd make his day. So what if you're about 10 minutes past when you said you'd be back. It'd be worth the strict talking if it got Jenson to smile.

You bump into a man and apologize as you dig through your purse for the blaring phone. You don't even look at the phone as you answer it, laughing. "Yes, Jenson. I know I'm late, but I'm returning now. Even have a little gift for you." You two might have flirted in Greece, but this was full-on; you only wanted him to ask you. If he didn't, you sure as hell would.

"Mhm, a little gift. Would this little gift require me to see it on you?" Jenson teases, losing all his anger about you not being back yet. You already saw that one in Greece; maybe this one is in the bedroom. You hear Jenson's chair tip and him cuss and things falling. "Jens, you okay?" You walk towards the crosswalk and hit the button, waiting for it to let you walk. "Yep, yeah, of course, just tripped into my desk." You laugh and turn slightly, noticing the man you tripped into is staring at you, but you just shake it off.

"Aww, baby, don't worry. I'll let you be in control tonight." You tease, and Jenson snorts. You hear screams and turn, seeing a large SUV screeching up before slamming on the brakes. It all happened so slowly, where the man from earlier shoves you forward, and loud fireworks are set off. Except you feel a piercing burn fill your body. More screams, more deafening, and all around you.

"Pretty girl?" Jenson's voice sounds so far away as you stumble back and crumble on the road. Something warm pools at your back, yet your body feels like ice and fire pokers stabbing you all simultaneously. "Pretty girl?" His voice is filled with such terror, vision blurring. The man from earlier leans in close and takes something out of your hand. Jenson's voice grew distant with each second. The man chuckles and places your red-covered phone to his ear. "You should've taken the deal." Coughing, you make this gurgled sound, almost choking on the thick iron in your mouth.

The man drops the phone before slapping his heavy boot down on it. "He should've taken the deal." He growls in your face before running off as sirens lull you to sleep.

"JUST TELL ME!" Jenson roars at the nurse, slamming his hands down on the counter. The older nurse just stares at the disheveled man before her and sighs. "Young man, I can't tell you anything because I don't know anything. There is no, Miss. Y/n L/n that's been admitted here." She sighs as Jenson makes the sound of a broken animal.

"Ma'am, any Jane Doe's?" Mark steps in, pulling Jenson back as he paces before flinging himself into a chair and sobbing. Lewis moves and hugs his friend as Jenson doesn't even care about his men flooding the hospital trying to find you. "Oh, yes," The nurse blushes and pulls up a medical record. "We have one, horrible really. Shot 5 to 7 times, they believe it was a drive-by. They do have a birth." "There's a birthmark on her hip shaped like a bit of heart." Jenson fills in, and the nurse sighs, giving Jenson a heartbreaking look.

"Oh darling, she's in CCICU." Mark tenses like Lewis, and Jenson stumbles into the desk, pulling at his hair. "What, what is the CCICU?" Jenson asks, rubbing the snot away as he tries to pull himself together. "Critical Care ICU, that's where they send those who are close to death." Jenson immediately runs before he gets directions. He's bolting through the hospital, trying to find it.

He does. And he about rips the palce to shreds. "Pretty girl," He whimpers, seeing you with 2 policemen standing guard. "Sir," One steps forward but stops seeing who it is and quiets. "She hasn't woken up. They're worried she never will." He whispers and returns to his position as Jenson trudges into the room.

He hates this room. Hates how it has no color. It's dark and grey and sad. This isn't you, he thinks. You're color, the brightness in his world. He should be fighting for life, not you, not his pretty girl. You shouldn't be in a room like this. He wanted to see the sun on your skin. The way you light up as you read and enjoy the beach. He never should've left Greece with you.

"My pretty girl," His voice breaks, dropping to his knees and cupping your broken and pale face. "I should've done it; I should have just taken that deal." He whispers as his face shatters, and he buries into the bed, holding your hand. Jenson was going to kill the man; he was going to burn the world down.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 21

part 1 | part 20 | ao3

“Right?” Steve asks, scratching his head as he glances back at the door. 

“No, I meant you, dingus! What the fuck was that with you?” 

Steve feels his face go hot. “What? What do you mean?” 

She throws her hands in the air, stomping over so she can get in his face and say, “Don’t ‘what do you mean’ me. Your faces” —she lifts her hands like she’s about to applaud, palms hovering an inch apart— “were like thiiis close to just…”

She claps them together, and Steve feels the blood drain right back out of his face, dread pooling in his gut as she twists her palms this way and that, like two people tilting their heads to kiss deeper. Oh, god. Oh, god. Were they—? 

“Mwah,” Robin says helpfully, mashing her hands more tightly together. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah—”  

Steve grabs her by the wrist. “Dude. Stop.” 

She drops her hands and stares at him — one of those Detective Buckley looks, combing over every inch of his soul for missed clues — and then her mouth does some horribly self-satisfied thing that he hates. “If I didn’t know any better,” she draws, “I’d say someone has a crush.” 

I’d say someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a

Steve’s gonna pass out. The words feel like bile in his brain, acidic and sharp; like puking right after chugging a glass of orange juice. It’s not like he’s— 

Look, he knows that he’s— but—

The bell dings. Thank fucking Christ. A big family group, three generations of people talking and laughing and fussing over a baby in a stroller and carrying leftovers from the Italian place down the strip. 

Steve sags in relief. 

Robin hisses in his ear, “We are so not done talking about this.”

—

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

About Eddie, about the word Robin lobbed at him like a lit bottle rocket, about any of it.

Just thinking about it is giving him a stomach ulcer and a migraine and maybe an aneurysm, too. 

He was hoping he made that obvious enough during the last hour of their shift that Robin would just drop it, but that girl has never dropped a single thing in her life. Worse than Nancy, the little bloodhound. Steve saw this documentary once about crocodiles; remembers how they can lock their jaws shut after clamping down on their prey with up to 4000 PSI of pressure. 

That’s enough pressure to cut a person’s arm off with a jet of water. 

Damn, nature’s cool.

“Steve!” 

You know who’s not cool? 

“Steve!” Robin hollers again over the song he’s currently blasting to drown her out on the drive home. “Steve, you can’t use ABBA against me like this!”

Steve ignores her protests, responds by shout-singing “DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN, OOH OOOOOH” at her in his most nasal falsetto because he absolutely can and will use ABBA against her like this, and it works like a charm. He’s pretty sure this song has, like, hypnotic power over her or something, because every time without fail she gives the answering “ooh-oo-oo-ooh-ooh-oooooh” as if on auto-pilot.

“HEY!” she shouts when she realizes what she’s doing. “No sir!” She reaches over and mashes the volume button. 

Silence falls over the car. Sucks the air out of Steve’s lungs in the sudden void; his ears adjust slowly, picking up the quiet thrum of the engine, the whispered whoosh of the wind outside. Is he ever going to get used to being kind-of-sort-of-deaf? This shit sucks.

“...Okay, look,” Robin says tentatively. She’s staring at the side of his head, and he keeps his eyes on the road; tightens his grip on the wheel. “We don’t have to talk about you, okay?”

“There’s nothing to talk about with me.”

“Right!” she rushes to agree. Playing along like they don’t both know that’s bullshit. “Totally.”

Steve risks a glance at her. Her expression is earnest, some full-paragraph silent communication like: whatever bathroom-floor-confessional crisis you’re having, we can leave it alone for now. We can let it stay hidden in the dark corners for a little longer; I promise I’ll put my flashlight down. 

“Totally,” Steve echoes, nodding at her. 

“Okay. Cool. Cool…”

She lets out a long breath, cheeks puffing out as she sits on her hands. Oh, my god, just spit it out. “Can we please talk about him, though?”

—

part 22

tag list pt. 1 below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow (heads up i'm not tagging any new under 21 or ageless blogs unless we’re mutuals or you dm me to verify your age. gonna purge this list when i get some free time)

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[gracieheartspedro]

Somewhere With You

Part 4 of How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!

description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.

author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!

“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”

Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”

You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since. 

The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah. 

Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family. 

You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again. 

Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.

“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred. 

“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered. 

Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too. 

You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change. 

Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.” 

You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”

Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter. 

“In a rush, dear?”

The nickname makes his heart race.

He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice. 

“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?” 

It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.

“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her. 

It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table. 

“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”

You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.

“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”

He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”

He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.

“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”

“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again. 

Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”

He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat. 

-

Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder. 

You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase. 

The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him. 

This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you. 

You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second. 

“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.  

He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”

No offer. Maybe you could propose it?

“Maybe I could just spend the night.”

The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him. 

“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”

He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him. 

When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air. 

“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”

As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel. 

“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”

“Sarah Jane!”

-

You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff. 

“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”

He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.

“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”

You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”

“That so?”

You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.

You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”

The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.

“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body. 

You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”

He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones. 

Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin. 

When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed. 

“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.

“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate. 

He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”

His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight. 

“Joel, please.”

He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”

“I want you all over, Joel.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?” 

He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl. 

You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression. 

“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved. 

“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth. 

“Always am.”

Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.

“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”

He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm. 

“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”

“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”

You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently. 

His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language. 

When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum. 

“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”

His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs. 

“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”

Your stomach drops, “Like what?”

He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”

You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.

“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”

“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”

You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”

He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples. 

“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you. 

But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation. 

“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”

You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”

“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”

You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster. 

But, no.

“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”

You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”

He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions. 

“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”

“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”

Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum. 

You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.

He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm. 

“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”

You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”

He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

-

Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed. 

Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake. 

You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum. 

“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord. 

“Mornin’ handsome.”

You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked. 

“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”

He silently nods, looking at you confused.

“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”

You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet. 

“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”

“Well, you do.”

He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task. 

You were his dream girl, truly.

Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture. 

“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. 

“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.

“Both.”

You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it. 

This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did. 

It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before. 

As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.

“What is going on here?”

His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 

When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before. 

Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you. 

“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”

He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords. 

“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”

Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive. 

“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?” 

His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes. 

Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”

“Answer the fuckin’ question!”

You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane. 

You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was. 

Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“

Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words. 

“Not your girl.”

You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off. 

Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”

Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing. 

“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower. 

“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”

You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way. 

“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”

The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit. 

“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”

He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”

You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”

“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”

Now you’re laughing. 

“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth. 

“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face. 

“Fuck you!”

Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor. 

The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name. 

When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you. 

“Don’t.”

It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door. 

You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is. 

Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip. 

“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation. 

“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”

Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose. 

“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”

Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes. 

“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”

It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat. 

“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”

Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly. 

Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care. 

He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen. 

Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them. 

But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry. 

You kind of scared yourself. 

“Joel-”

“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“Joel, we can’t d-”

“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.

You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl. 

You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect. 

“I love you, okay?”

His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

[xhoneygirlxx]

18+, minors shoo.

this is purely for personal reasons lmao.

One sentence, that’s all it took to end up in this position.

You’re on your back, the softness of sheets have now become soaked with sweat and other bodily fluids, knees to your chest, and arms above your head weighed down by Eddie’s strong grip.

He’s everywhere, invading all of your senses, taking up the space of all the thoughts you’ve been dying to get rid of.

“Make me forget”

It wasn’t a question, not even a request, but a demand. You needed this, needed out of your head and away from the horrible work week you’ve dealt with.

Life can become too much and despite what your therapist says a deep breath and meditation sometimes doesn’t work. So you went to the one and only person you knew could fix it, the one person who wouldn’t question you or make you think about your choices.

That’s how you ended up here, trapped under the weight of your boyfriend, whining at the brutal pace of his cock going in and out. He’s already pulled 2 releases from you, once with just his fingers and the other with his mouth, and currently he’s working on your third.

“My good fuckin’ girl, taking every single thing I give her.” Eddie pants harshly in your ear before biting down on the lobe causing you to cry out.

Pulling back, just enough to look down at you, he can’t help but smirk at the picture before him. The image of you on your back, glistening with sweat and lips shiny and red. He ogles your tits and how they bounce with every thrust.

God, you really are a pretty painting, it’s all for him and him only.

“S’it feel good, baby?” Eddie coos mockingly at you and even thought you want to say something to wipe off that cocky grin on his face, you just can’t.

You sob loudly, mangling words together with the slur of your speech. Your boyfriend can’t help but take pride in your current state, eyes hazy and unable to stay open with how drunk he has you on his cock.

“What was that? Are you that stupid, bunny? Jesus fuck-, huh? I got you that dumb just from my cock?”

Despite his confident words and degrading tone, Eddie himself is having a hard time from falling around. Even if you wanted to tease him back, tell him he’s just as fucked as you, the words simply won’t come out but it doesn’t matter when your body does all the talking.

You clench around him, squeezing him in like a vice grip and it’s pretty clear he gets the message by the way he growls.

“Shit keep doin’ that, bunny. Fuck you feel s’good, so fucking good. S’like you were made me for”

You both know he’s rambling now, trying everything in his power to last, but with the way his eyes roll into his head you both know it’s coming to an end.

Eddie however isn’t going to let up on a promise, no, he’s going to keep doing until you can’t even remember your own name. Slithering one of his hands between your bodies, his calloused fingers find your sensitive bundle of nerves and begins to rub tight circles.

“Eds I-“ You can’t even finish your sentence, your body too overwhelmed with the euphoric state you’ve been thrown into.

The sound of his balls slapping off of your ass mixed with the squelch of your cunt is all you can hear. His cock pounding to that one spot you never can reach on your own and his thick fingers circling your clit is all you can feel. Sex, sweat, and a hint of Eddie is all you can smell. The salty taste of your sweat and stray tears is all you can taste.

It’s too much while also being everything you ever wanted. It makes your heart race faster, tummy twist with a tingling fiery feeling, and you just know. In a matter of seconds you’re going to cum harder than you ever had in your entire life.

“There ya go, baby, just like that. Want you to cum for me, cum on my cock like the good girl I know you are.” Eddie strains to even say it, his own release at an arms length.

The command that falls from his lips gives you the push you needed, hurdling you right off the cliff straight into your orgasim.

Your body feels light like a feather, not even the shaking of your limbs can pull you out of the clouds. It’s only when Eddie’s body collapses on top of you that you’re brought back down to earth.

Ragged breaths, pounding hearts, and jelly like bones, you and your boyfriend sit in the afterglow for a few minutes to try and recalibrate your mind.

Leaning back slightly, mocha brown eyes peer up to you sweetly.

“How’s my girl feel?” He rasps as he studies your features.

You go to open your mouth, reassure him he kept his end of the bargain but the words won’t come out, tongue heavy and thick.

Although you can’t speak you can make noise, so you opt for the latter, moaning softly at the man. He only smiles at you, toothy and bright, before placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Mission accomplished.”

—

Let me have this, work has sucked and I don’t have a stress reliever lmao.

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[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

Ache // Yandere! Ticci Toby x

Fem! Reader {SMUT}

[Hello, this will be the first fic that I post. What I'm going to give you guys beforehand is some trigger warnings before we get on to it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback whenever you're done if you feel in the mood.]

TW // Violence, r@pe, and a whole lotta mention of murder as always.

𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ - First P.O.V

Every day, it started like this. Planted in my bed, tangled in my grey sheets, waiting for that one sliver of motivation to get out of my blankets. My room was a mess. Pieces of clothing scattered across the floor, piling up around my dresser, and hanging off of places I tossed them.

I stared over the rest of what I could see while trying to get rid of the bitter taste of soda left on my tongue from last night. The posters I've collected of my favorite bands clung onto the wall for dear life, fading away from how long they had been there. An empty Sprite can stood on my nightstand, left there after my body decided to have its third caffeine crash this week.

It was getting so warm where I was lying that I was starting to overheat, making me shuffle around to stay cold. That wasn't too hard because of how freezing my room was.

When I looked at my window, I noticed it was cracked open. If I didn't shut it soon, it would get worse. But minutes were melting into each other and I didn't want to get up. Why did I love to procrastinate so much? It shouldn't be this hard to move on with my day.

Silence filled every corner of my apartment, leaving me to peacefully rot. Was it selfish of me to be like this? That's what it felt like they were trying to say when I talked to relatives. But that's the reason why I prefer to be shut-in. I never had to hear that about myself. The world outside would remain indifferent. And hopefully, by the time I had to move, I was swallowed into the Earth below.

A sudden vibration of my phone startled me. I mumbled a barrage of curses and reached for it slowly, furrowing my brows and groaning. I could only pray that it wasn't him trying to contact me.

The last time he visited, I no longer felt safe outside. I would check behind me constantly, feeling as if his light brown eyes were glued to my back, and at any moment, he could come back and chop off my limbs until I was a headless torso. Remembering that he existed caused that horrible anxiety to spread goosebumps across my skin. I was shaking as I tried to unlock my phone.

Hundreds of notifications popped up that I had been ignoring, some of them messages from my mom, and the rest were emails. I almost accidentally clicked on one before I found the most recent. "Return library books today," it read. Fuck, I forgot today was the due date for those. Despite not wanting to, I had to get up. I did promise that if I had a reason to, I would.

I peeled myself from the comfort of my bed. My sheets clung to me like glue, trying to pull me back as if it were a bad idea. Fighting against it, I shivered at the sudden change in temperature and pulled down the bottoms of my shorts so they weren't wedged in between my ass.

After not walking for what felt like forever, I took my first steps, a soreness on my left thigh making me place a hand on my dresser for support. I looked down at a bruise from that encounter, biting my lip to distract myself from thinking about it. I need to take my pills or I'll get suicidal. So many things to do. So overwhelmed.

Encouraging myself in my head, I found the strength to go for the door. I opened it and turned down my hallway, going for the bathroom with quick and light steps.

Many pictures of family and portraits were loosely decorated on the wall, a pit in my stomach opened when I stared at them. I lingered on my dad and had to tear myself away from the picture before I felt the need to cry.

Stumbling into the bathroom, I flicked on the harsh yellow light and stood before the mirror, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I reached for the medicine cabinet, the hinges squeaking as I rummaged through it. I grabbed my medication and popped the bottle open, tossing out a tiny pill into my palm. I swallowed the bitter capsule and cringed as it slowly went down.

Turning my attention to the sink, I turned on the cold water and brought my mouth to the tap to take a sip. Then I splashed it on my face after I was done, relieved that the pill was no longer there. On the counter, I focused on the facewash I hadn't used in god knows how long. I missed the feeling of my face being clean. At least, I can't forget about it now.

I poured the runny liquid into my hands and rubbed them together, slapping it on my face and rubbing it in circles to get deep in my pores. It foamed up a bit and burned. If I'm going to be honest, I don't know if I'm supposed to be using this, but it works.

As I was splashing the water on my face again to clean it off, I opened my eyes to a man staring at me in the mirror, causing me to freeze. I could see the glisten of his goggles from here, that blue hood covering his messy hair, but it didn't contain enough around the edges. It was him. The man who attacked me and my dad a couple of days ago.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but before the sound could escape, I reached for something. Grab anything to protect myself, that's all I needed to do. But before I could, the room blurred as I twisted, my hand grasping a razor for a split second.

I was torn away from it. I felt a hard impact on my back as I was slammed against the wall, the air forcing out of my lungs in a sharp gasp. I struggled to breathe, my hands grabbing onto his wrists while they dug into my neck.

He had me pinned against it and struggling to get any sort of noise out. Slowly, I was dragged up upward and lifted off of the ground. I choked, my vision was fading as his glare burned into mine. He's going to kill me. Just like he did to Dad. He's going to get away with it. I pulled my head back against the wall before lunging it forward to collide it with the serial killer's, his hands faltering their hold and dropping me from the force of it.

I collapsed to the floor and sputtered out several coughs, hunched up in a ball and desperately trying to regain the oxygen he took from me. My neck felt numb, the indents of his fingers bruising and stung like a bitch.

He crouched down to me. I closed my eyes and thought he would finish it right there. But when I suddenly felt his lips press against mine, they shot back open. Breathing heavily through my nose, I stared at his shut eyelids. I glanced down at his lashes, feeling his breath as he sighed. He relaxed into me for a split second before pulling away, lowering his voice to a rough whisper to introduce himself, "It's nice to meet you finally, {F/N}. The name's Tobias."

Struggling to get myself sitting up, I made it by resting on the wall and using my hands to keep me there. My chest rapidly went up and down as I watched his every move. He backed away a bit, but not enough to give me leverage. I repeated, "Tobias?" And his eyebrow quirked up like he was questioning my reaction.

"I can also go by Toby. Whatever you prefer. But I gave you my full name because I really like you, [F/N]," he added. I knitted my brows and shook my head, unable to understand what he was saying. He liked me? He just kissed me? What the fuck?

I pushed myself away from him and got back up, running for it and successfully escaping the bathroom. The front door was right in front of me, I barely got to reach for it before I felt a hand grab a fistful of my hair. No, I almost had it!

Strands of my hair were ripped out as I was yanked backward and thrown onto the couch, falling onto it and yelping in pain. Tears fell from my eyes and I clutched my head, grabbing the part that hurt the most. A headache was coming on and I couldn't help but rock myself to soothe it. I sobbed, "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone..." I twisted myself to let out the rest in the cushions, hearing him approach behind me.

After crying for a bit and nothing was happening to me, I hesitantly lifted myself to take a peek. Toby was sitting next to me, almost as if he was waiting patiently for me to finish. When he saw that I was staring at him, he patted his lap and said, "Here. Rest your pretty head and we can get to talking about this, sweetheart."

I was too scared of him to tell him no. It was the first time I felt pure terror from somebody. Like I would never be able to fight back with him. And I was right. I couldn't. The sad truth was that if my dad had fallen to this man, I'm sure I would live the same fate if I didn't listen. Dragging myself, I cringed while laying my head onto his leg, feeling his hand rest on my head and causing me to flinch. "Sh, sh, I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I told you, I really adore you, [F/N]," he reassured me. A part of me wanted to bite his leg to pieces, but if I went along with this until he fell asleep or left, then I could escape and possibly go to the police.

Deciding to go with it, I pretended to enjoy the warmth and snuggled into him. I wouldn't call it pretending actually, he was pretty warm. Toby hummed and it stayed like this for some time. He kept petting me, brushing my hair out of the way, soothing me from the chase earlier.

Eventually, he got bored of it and nudged me to sit back up. I tilted my head and asked, "What?" His hand went to rest on my lower back, applying pressure around it, pushing me forward until I was easing into sitting on him. A smile crossed his face at the compliance. He seemed intrigued by it.

"I didn't think you would give up this quick. I thought I was going to have to give you a couple more marks for memories," he sounded pleased as both of his arms wrapped around my waist. They were much bigger than mine, with a couple of veins etched up around them like vines, and faded scars littering everywhere on his skin. He had been doing this for years by the looks of it. There was no way in hell I was going to escape, huh?

Placing another kiss on my cheek, soft and gentle, his eyelashes brushed against me before he pulled away to speak again, "Do you know what I've been picturing every night to the thought of you, [F/N]?" His hands dropped lower to skim over my ass, lightly gripping, and dragging me toward him. My breath hitched. I didn't say a word.

Toby answered for me, "I've been picturing taking these off..." His fingers gripped around the waistband of my shorts and teased me about taking them off by pushing them down lightly. Continuing that, he said, "Have you to myself for a couple of hours..."

There were so many reasons why I should say no to him and why I shouldn't allow him to touch me like this. For one, he killed my father. He broke into my house and he was physically violent to me. I felt disgusting that he had gotten to this level too. But, I didn't stop him. I didn't say no and I didn't deny it. I looked into this killer's eyes and I leaned onto his chest, giving into what he wanted

When we kissed for the second time, I noticed how chapped his lips were, and opened my mouth a little to swipe my tongue across his bottom one. Toby tensed up. And without warning, I felt his tongue use the opportunity to have an exchange with mine. I gasped through my nose, the escalation getting worse and worse. A blush began to spread across my face.

He lifted me off of his lap to flip me onto the couch, putting both of his palms by either side of my head. I was back to being pinned underneath him. I don't know what was happening to me. Something was wrong with me, I was sick for this. I was sick... because I enjoyed this.

His sweater and shirt fell to the floor as we fought each other with kisses. His teeth bit into my lower lip and pulled it back while I moved to unbuckle his belt. I was giving in to this. I was really fucking the guy that took away everybody I loved in my life.

Barely in any clothes, we both took a moment to stare at each other, oddly feeling like he was admiring me from how he looked up and down my body. Toby took his time, pressing small pecks across my chest up to my neck, snaking his arms around to my back. He unclipped my bra and slipped it off of me. I wanted to cover myself, but I no longer wanted to move. I didn't have any motivation. There was nothing left to fight for.

The gloves and bandages around his fingers felt weird against my skin especially when he played with my chest. He squeezed one, bit the other, and once he heard a moan slip out of me, he stopped to let me process. He complimented me, his voice a bit raspy like he was fighting the urge to do something to me already, "You look even better so close like this, with how foggy those windows would get. It would make me want to break them and threaten you then and there."

I bit the inside of my cheek and he got closer, hooking onto my panties and pulling them down as a smirk spread on his face. My lack of response didn't concern him. He kept going despite that, throwing the thin fabric somewhere in the room before he looked up at me. His hair was in his face and the eyebags around his eyes told me he was more than dangerous. How many times has he done this?

Toby muttered seriously, breaking me out of the moment, "Who do you belong to?" I blankly gazed at him, watching as he stood up and slowly inched his boxers down. I can't speak. I can't tell him that. More scars appeared, his v-line making my eyes linger, and I got distracted. His dick was let out before I could respond.

My eyes widened and I tried to squeeze my legs shut, but he kept them apart as soon as they moved, holding both of my knees up to my shoulders. I was breathing super fast, my heart raced, and I was feeling the ache in between both of my legs. It was nothing compared to when he positioned himself and pushed the tip inside.

Digging my nails into his arms, I cried out in pain and threw my head back, looking up at his satisfied face. Toby groaned, a laugh following behind it, "You don't have to answer. I'll do it for you." He rammed most of what he could, grabbing both of my thighs so tightly that it was guaranteed to be bruised. I screamed out. He was too rough and too much for me to take like this. It hurt. It fucking ached. I was being drilled into the cushions.

Trying to handle it was impossible. He made it impossible for me. His hips connected as he went deeper, loud slaps coming from it, bouncing off and echoing. I didn't want to think about the neighbors hearing me lose my dignity like this. I didn't want to think about the fact my dad could be witnessing this. But it was starting to feel good. Really fucking good. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and after that, I didn't care anymore.

I wrapped my legs and arms around him, pulling him closer and savoring his dick carving into the parts I didn't know were there. Moaning, swearing, and muttering filled the room. We were getting lost in the bliss and saying whatever was on the mind. Or I was. His name left me a couple of times and so did encouragement, "More.. More, please, Toby!"

Flipping around again when he got a little tired, I gyrated my hips and sat on his lap so I could bounce, sliding up and down until I could feel my walls beginning to squeeze. I was close and this position wasn't helping. I held my breath and Toby took notice, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Let it out for me, baby. Don't be shy," he cooed, sweat dripping down his forehead like he was holding back his own. I bit the inside of my cheek and a desperate moan came out, "Fuuuuuck, cummm with! Please!"

He didn't listen to me and lifted me off of the couch with him, holding me up in the air while guiding me down onto his shaft. I went limp and drool fell down the side of my chin as I buried myself into the crook of his neck, biting it a little to vent out the overwhelming pleasure. Toby didn't let up until a couple of more minutes of fucking me passed and I was fucked out enough that my legs were shaking.

When he was about to cum himself, he set me back down, rushing up to my face to give me a facial. My mouth was open from panting and I caught a bit on my tongue, swallowing it when we were back to locking eyes. The rest landed on my nose, cheeks, and lips. He let out a loud groan as he unwinded, pulling away to see the display once he was done.

I lay there. Used. I lay there for him to stare at. Until he walked away for cleaning supplies. To think about what I was doing. To come back down and face the new reality I was in. I was his now and he was mine. And there was nothing I could do about it.

[favcharacterpoll]

ROUND 6 MATCH 3: CECIL VS. C!WILBUR

Cecil Palmer from Welcome to Night Vale faces c!Wilbur from the dsmp. @10piecechickenmcnugget get over here sage

Cecil Propaganda:

"Cecil is not only the Tumblr sexyman, he is the first gay protagonist of a podcast that most of us have ever heard. From the very first episode he was unashamedly queer and no one has ever called him out or given him shit for being gay. He is a gay Jewish fashion disaster who is the mouthpiece for an incredibly bizarre town and plays the whole “this horrifying thing is completely normal”thing so well. If Cecil wasn’t there, I think a lot of people wouldn’t have felt so accepted for just being who they were. Cecil is an inspiration and the queer podcast rep we all deserved as we were growing."

"he’s gay. he’s a dilf. he’s ageless. he has been since there’s was nothing and he’s still here after the world ended. he can summon music. his mother is a oracle his father is a tree. his cat is a man who got cursed and also has wings a stinger and poison??? he thinks a tutu and crocs is formal wear and has talked to god and she said ‘I love you. I’m sorry’. he’s definitely guilty of manslaughter from negligence"

"this is the website Night Vale built!"

c!Wilbur Propaganda:

"Accurate depiction of mental health and spiral, handled delicately and deliberately, every piece of his story was thought and planned and in the end he went home to Utah. Thank you lord."

"Please don’t let the name dream smp effect how you feel about this submission, this character is completely unrelated to dream and I’m pretty sure the person who played him has nothing to do with dream anymore. This man single handedly got me through a horrible patch filled with extreme paranoia by also being extremely paranoid. Genuinely really helped me feel seen and I coped a lot by getting invested in this character. I almost cried when he died :("

"He’s so fucking stupid. I could infodump for hours this man transed my gender. Everything has gone wrong in his life. He’s the definition of a bisexual disaster."

"I didn’t fail 10th grade math bc I was thinking about c!wilbur for him to lose round one"

"I mean look at him!! his Minecraft skin is adorable!!!"

"if you people vote for cwilbur i'll draw him in a bikini."

"A VOTE FOR C!WILBUR IS A VOTE FOR GIRLBOYS EVERYWHERE"

"i should not have underestimated minecraft fans they came together"

"Season 1 changed me. I didn’t know minecraft videos could have good acting, dramatic plots, etc. Wilbur was one of the best there. His plot was so interesting with the L’Manburg and the unfinished symphony arcs. He was funny, dramatic, sad… I fondly remember my dsmp days (though I only saw up to like part of Tommy’s exile)"

[bedsyandco]

Soon you’ll get better

❥ — ꒰ pairing ꒱ lani x quinn hughes

❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ the aftermath of the accident

❥ — ꒰ content ꒱ talks of an accident, medical injuries, death, miscarriage. incorrect medical talk and diagnosis…obviously i’m not a doctor and this is fiction!! unedited. will be edited later!!

❥ — ꒰ note ꒱ title bc I listened to the song while writing!!

Eight and a half hours later when the Hughes family arrived in Vancouver and at the hospital, Quinn was still in the same position he had been the entire night. Sat on the floor, his arms rested on his bent legs, his head rested against the wall. When he saw his family arriving he mustered the little energy he had left after not sleeping last night, to push himself up and meet them halfway across the waiting room.

“Oh Quinn,” is all his mom said as she wrapped her arms tightly around him and held him for a few minutes. Afterwards he gave his dad a long hug, no word being exchanged there because what could he say?

“Have you heard anything?” Violet asks as Quinn hugs her.

“Not really. The doctor comes out every few hours to tell me that she’s still stable and that they’re doing everything they can but… it’s been hours and…” Quinn says, tearing up again and he wipes his face frustratedly.

“You should get some sleep,” Jack suggests softly and Quinn just glares at him.

“I’m not sleeping until I know she’s okay,” Quinn responds

“Quinn we’ll wake you-”

“I’m not sleeping until I know she’s okay,” Quinn repeats and Jack nods.

Jack understood. So did Luke. He spent the 8 hour flight over there thinking about what he would do if God forbid something ever happened to Violet. He determined that Violet was gonna live way longer than him and that he’d never have to live that horrible life without her, nothing was ever allowed to happen to her. Luke wraps his arms tightly around her again, kissing her neck where he could feel her pulse and the pressure in his chest lessens a bit but it returns when he goes back to observing his older brother.

“Do you know how it happened yet?” Jim asks and Quinn nods

“She was on her way to the restaurant, a truck lost control on the road and Lani swerved to miss it, her car rolled off the road and crashed straight into a pole. Apparently she’s lucky she swerved otherwise she would have died on impact with the truck. Doesn’t feel very fucking lucky though, does it?” Quinn asks angrily and everyone flinches a little when he curses but all of them remain silent. Not quite sure what to say.

“God, if I had just…gone home and picked her up. Or cancelled the damn dinner. You know I can’t even really remember what my life was like before the past year, before her. And I can’t even imagine what it would look like without her,” Quinn says, his voice cracking at the end.

“You don’t have to imagine it. Lani’s gonna be okay Quinn. She’s gonna pull through,”Jack says, pulling his brother into a tight hug.

“I’m gonna go get us some coffee,” Blue says to Violet softly and she leaves just as the doctor appears.

“Mr. Hughes?” the doctor asks from a distance away and Quinn walks closer, so only he would hear what the doctor was saying, scanning the doctor’s face for any clues as to what he should prepare for, but the doctor’s face doesn’t give anything away.

“Is she okay?” Quinn asks desperately

“Ms. Reed is out of surgery and will be moved to recovery now. She had extensive injuries. She had multiple fractured bones in her arm, and shoulder. She also took a major blow to the head and there was some internal bleeding that we were able to stop luckily. One of her lungs was punctured-” the doctor’s words get caught off by Quinn turning towards the garbage can to vomit.

“I’m good, you can continue” Quinn rasps out as the doctor sends him a concerned look.

“The list of injuries is long Mr. Hughes but the most important thing is that she’s okay and she’ll make a full recovery. Physically at least. Unfortunately Ms. Reed suffered a miscarriage because of the physical trauma and shock her body went through because of the accident and there was nothing we could do,” the doctor says softly and Quinn stops breathing for a second.

“Miscarriage?” Quinn asks, not quite comprehending the fact that Lani was…

“Ms. Reed was pregnant prior to the accident. She wasn’t very far along…7-8 weeks potentially. It was likely that she didn’t even know yet. There was no permanent damage done and she should have no problem getting pregnant again in the future. I can be the one to tell her if you don’t feel-”

“No, I’ll do it,” Quinn immediately responds, knowing it would be better if it came from him.

“Someone will be out shortly to take you to her room. I’m very sorry for your loss,” the doctor says sympathetically before walking away again and Quinn has to lean against the wall for a second to process what he just heard. The doctor obviously assumed correctly that the baby was his since he told them him and Lani were engaged despite their very obvious missing rings.

Lani is pregnant. Was pregnant. Was.

Quinn walks back towards his family, a little dazed. His lack of sleep and shock of what happened in the past 24 hours finally caught up to him.

“She’s gonna be okay,” is all Quinn says because Lani should be the first person he tells about the baby, and maybe she doesn’t want other people to know and Quinn wanted to make sure he respected those wishes.

Everyone practically deflates with relief and his parents take a seat on the chairs, his mom letting out a few tears.

“Luke and I are gonna stop by your apartment. Get you some clothes and other things. I’ll pack Lani a bag too,” Violet says and Quinn hands her the keys to his car and his apartment. The guys had driven to the hospital with his car and ordered a ride home so Quinn still had his vehicle.

“You know where my stuff is. Lani’s things are all in the same places, just on the left. Same with the bathroom, all her stuff is in the left vanity,” Quinn says and Violet nods giving him a tight hug.

“We love you,” she says and Quinn squeezes her tight.

“Thanks for being here,” he responds

“Of course,”

They leave and when Blue comes back a few minutes later with 2 hands filled with multiple cups of coffee, Quinn feels his chest contract again. Lani loves coffee.

“We’re gonna go get everyone some food. We’ll be back but if you go see her before we return, tell Lani we love her yeah?” Jack says taking Blue’s hand in his own and Quinn nods as they make their way to the exit.

About thirty minutes later a nurse shows up and leads him to Lani’s room, and this is all Quinn’s been waiting for…a moment to lay his eyes on Lani and be sure that she’s okay. That he didn’t lose her. That they were gonna be okay.

But as he stood in the entrance of the room, he was unable to move, or speak, or breathe at the sight in front of him.

There she was. His Lani. Except she didn’t look like his Lani at all. Because his Lani was full of light, and so filled with joy she practically glowed with it. And now she was pale, battered, bruised and blue.

Quinn simply stands there for a moment observing her before he walks closer, taking the seat closest to her bedside and gently as ever, grabbing her hand and holding it against his cheek, pressing multiple kisses on her palm.

He fell asleep like that, clutching her hand tightly and resting his head against her.

A few hours later he awoke to the feeling of fingers gently running through his hair and his eyes instantly shot open.

He lifted his head to meet her gaze and he instantly teared up again.

“Lani,” he whispers, standing up and leaning over to kiss her on the temple

“We should call the nurse,” Quinn says hastily but Lani halts him with a hand on his arm.

“The nurse was already in here, just a few moments ago. She explained what happened and gave me some pain meds,” Lani says

“How long have you been awake?” Quinn asks

“For thirty minutes or so,”

“You should’ve woken me up,” Quinn says

“The nurse said you didn’t sleep at all last night, I wanted to let you rest a little longer,” Lani explains and Quinn sighs

“Come sit,” Lani says patting the spot next to her and Quinn immediately shakes his head

“No I don’t wanna hurt you,” he argues, choosing to sit at the bottom of the bed instead.

They talk for a little bit but half an hour later the troubled look on Quinn’s face still hasn’t disappeared.

“I’m okay Quinn,”

“You almost weren’t though,” he argues, his voice cracking

“But I am. And that’s all that matters. I'm here. I'm okay.” she says softly and Quinn just stares at her for a few minutes

“I should probably go give my parents an update,” Quinn says but doesn’t move.

“Your parents are here?” Lani asks surprised

“yeah, came as soon as they heard what happened. So did my brothers and Vi and Blue,” Quinn says

“oh. they didn’t need to fly all the way out here for me,”

“you almost died lani,” quinn says incredulously. finding it ridiculous that she’s even having the thought that her almost dying is an inconvenience to others.

“They can visit tomorrow if you’re up for it,” Quinn determines, seeing how tired she looks. She didn’t have to see them today. Or tomorrow. Or at all if she didn’t want to.

Him and Lani spend the next hour or so just talking, reassuring one another that she was okay and everything was gonna be fine. And then Quinn remembered that there was still something he needed to tell her. He really didn’t want to, not wanting to hurt her even more than she was already hurt.

“Lani. I need to tell you something,” Quinn starts but hesitates

“What is it?” she asks concerned, taking both his hands in hers.

“Before the accident, you were- you were pregnant. But the baby didn’t make it,” Quinn says softly and it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart when she gasps and tears up, retracting her hands and putting them on her stomach.

“No,” she whispers, and Quinn wipes her tears, nodding sadly.

“No,” she repeats again, her body shaking with her sobs and Quinn just wraps his arms around her, holding her tight.

Her sobs eventually die down, but the tears never stop, all ending up on Quinn’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry Quinn,” she apologises softly, pressing a kiss to his neck, knowing he must be hurting too.

“Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. None of this is your fault, you hear me?” he asks and she nods against his shoulder.

Rationally Lani knew it wasn’t the right time to have a baby. Her and Quinn are only dating for about a year now, she was still in school, he was only now really settling in with the responsibility of being captain. But she also can’t help but be sad at the possibility of what could have been. Of what they could have had.

“We’re gonna be okay angel. The only thing that matters right now is that you’re okay. We’ll get through the rest together okay?” he asks and she nods, tears still falling as he cups her face and presses kisses all over. Kissing every tear away.

“I love you so much. More than I can even try to explain,” Quinn says, kissing her gently, and that just makes the tears fall even more.

“I love you the most,” she replies, snuggling into him more as he holds her. They would spend the rest of the day like that. And the next few days. And a lot of days after that. But they were gonna be okay, as long as they had each other.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Restless 🔞

In which Jungkook is simply restless, especially when making love to you.

Tags/Warnings: WAY MORE ANGST WHY IS IT SO ANGSTY, Idol!Jungkook, ADHD sex position challenge I guess?, Roma made me do it, obviously smut, multiple positions duh, primal feel?, angsty sex, denial is a river in egypt, protected sex (reader has an IUD), cum, body fluids oops, sweat?, he cums inside and outside lol, biting, manhandling, oops my hand slipped and now I wrote porn with feels again

Length: 1.6k baby, look at that

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶

In the time of knowing him, Jungkook had always been restless.

He can't sit still for long, can't concentrate on one thing only, has to do something at all times it seems. Only sometimes, rarely, does he become lazy or tired, it seems. You cherish those moments just as much as the rest of the time you spend with him.

Now, you and Jungkook aren't necessarily.. a thing, at least not traditionally. He worries a lot; about his job, about you, about what could happen to the both of you if anything ever went public. But there's also this sinful feeling of doing something you're not supposed to, like a kid sneaking candy behind their parents backs. There's no denial even for you that you can't help but go back every single time. The feeling of longing sometimes just.. overwhelming.

You know this is gonna hurt you at some point. Maybe it won't hurt him as much, but it will hurt you, most definitely. He's sacrificed a lot and often throughout his lifetime already- who says he won't sacrifice you as well?

He's an Idol, a performer, singer, entertainer. He's made for the stage, made to be loved by millions, and you'd never force him to forget about that and leave this life behind. No. He's got it all, and he deserves it all. It's going to be fine. You'll just enjoy the times you have with him, the memories you're making.

It's not just sex, after all. You both often simply spend time with each other as friends as well. And you believe that that's what he actually sees you as- a friend, who's just a bit more intimate than a friend should be. And while his love might just be a daydream made up by your head to make your heart hurt less, his lust for you is most definitely real.

You don't know why he finds you so attractive, and you'll probably never fully understand it. Maybe it's because you're.. there. You're available. You're all he gets in this life, without fearing the consequences.

Jungkook is an old-school romantic with a twist here and there. He holds doors for you, helps you sit down at the dinner table whenever he cooks, opens tightly closed jars for you. He's a horribly cruel man in that department- because he always gives you attention, and something that might feel like it could potentially be love- but it's not. It's just a plastic rose that's going to catch dust at some point, never to bloom and never to rot either.

It'll just be thrown away, polluting the environment. Just like him leaving you one day will pollute your heart with feelings heavy and burning like molten lava, merciless.

"I- fuck." He gasps out as he halters his hips for a second, grip on them loosening as he kisses down your spine, your back arching downwards as you fall into the pillows below, entire bed already a mess. He's out of breath, and so are you- but you know he's not done with you yet. He's never just a hit-and-run kind of guy. He works his body until it literally gives in, never satisfied with just a one-time-high with you.

And he's also a carnal lover, raw and untamed.

He bites your skin, marks it up for you to remember, but also for himself to admire. Unbeknownst to you, he's hopelessly in love with you, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, or scold his own emotions for acting out like that. You're just going to get hurt, and he knows this. He wants to end it every single time, but he also crawls back to you every night it seems, desperate to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, taste you on his tongue. He's starving, even though he's currently taking his fill.

Maybe that's why he feels so desperate every time he's with you like this. Maybe that's why he feels as if nothing is ever enough. As if he can't get close enough.

It scares him, admittedly.

With his hands on your hips, he slips out of your heat, obscene sounds accompanying every movement as he maneuvers you onto your back, hands pushing your knees apart in an impatient manner, before he slips back inside. With his knees digging into the mattress below, he holds your wrists close, pulls you into every thrust like that, jaw clenched and eyes unmoving, focused on you and the way you look.

Divine. Enchanting. Absolutely beautiful.

He wants to cry at how your skin seems like it's made of glass with the slight layer of sweat. He used to hate it on himself, used to hate it on others as well, but in a weird way, when it comes to intimacy with you, nothing seems to bother him at all. Not your slick coating his thighs. Not your spit drooling down his length whenever you give him head. Not the cum he covers you with at the end of every round.

He wants it all. He wants you.

His knees seem to ache after just a few moments, muscles itching to move in other ways as he pulls out yet again, making you whine. "I can't-" He stammers, unsure what he wants to say. He doesn't know why he's especially restless this time. It's like nothing feels quite right.

Until you climb onto his lap, pushing back his chest to get into a proper position to ride him. It's moments like these that simply hurt him, because you're always so attentive to his needs. You don't seem to need any verbal communication with him at all to know what he needs, what he wants.

And yet, you're oblivious of his feelings, or so he thinks.

He wants to keep you safe, hold you close, show you off and hide you at the same time. He just wants you, nothing else, and that's not just his lust speaking for him.

No, he's not like that. He knows what's right and what's wrong. He knows when to listen to his heart, and when to ignore it. But with you, he can't. It's all so loud, his thoughts, his feelings, his brain won't shut up about you it feels like.

He sits up with you again, pushes you closer by the small of your back, crosses his legs and finally kisses you again.

He keeps kissing to a minimum most of the time, hates how good it feels, how comfortable it is, how much it affects him. Your lips are so soft, moving in perfect sync, and when you tease his piercing or bite his lip, he just can't help but growl out because you just have to be sent from hell by the devil himself with the mission to drive him mad.

There's no way a person can fill his mind and body up like this simply by existing.

He's desperate by now. His cum already sticks to your tits, has already made its way down to your belly, some of it even rubbed off on his own chest, but he still isn't satisfied. He's close, so close, and his muscles are yelling at him to stop and rest, but he can't stop now.

"You close?" He murmurs between his open mouthed kisses, lips traveling along your jawline now before his head falls into the crook of your neck, teeth gripping any flesh he can as he marks you up. You just whine, and nod. You stopped trying to count your highs with him. It's surely never just one, however, that much you're sure of.

You know by now how to tell when he's close as well. His actual end, that is.

The muscles in his thighs tremble visibly under the stress he's forcing them under. The veins along his arms and hands are prominent, sweat dripping along his neck and chest. He will become more vocal, start to whine, even growl, hips becoming erratic as he collects every little last drop of strength to make sure you'll finish alongside him. "Hold it." He demands, teeth clenched together as he suddenly becomes more forceful, the sound of skin against skin loud and obscene echoing off his bedroom walls, as you whimper beneath him. "Fucking hold it.!" He growls out, palms grabbing your thighs before they slip beneath the small of your back, lifting you up a little for that very specific angle he knows will send him off the edge. "Cum baby, fuck!" He finally tells you, before your hips start to move erratically, no longer under your control as your orgasm hits you full force.

You don't notice the way his cum stays inside, this time. Because he doesn't pull out, keeps you close, falls to his side with you in his arms.

He doesn't know why he feels so incredibly emotional this time. As if he just cant hold himself together anymore, if he doesn't have his arms around you. The room smells like sex, air stuffy, bodies awfully slick from your entire endeavor. Usually, it ends like this. Usually, he will part from you, shower by himself to give you time to get your strength back up enough to clean yourself up after him. He hates leaving you on your own like that, wants to care for you before and after the act because that's how you're supposed to be treated, but he knows, the longer he keeps you close in a headspace like that, the more he will end up hurting.

But tonight, he can't bring himself to leave you.

Tonight, he holds you tenderly, kisses fluttering against your bare shoulder, as he feels your breath start to even out.

Tonight, he will clean you up first, before he will change the sheets and shower himself.

Tonight, he will let you sleep in his bed together with him while he airs out the room, cold chills forcing you both under the covers that smell like fresh laundry and unfulfilled dreams.

Tonight, he will let you have his heart.

Tonight, he will break.

And so will you.

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶

[teamatsumu]

was i meant to love you? (last part)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name. but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 1501

warnings: swearing, some angst, happy ending

tags: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake @i-have-no-life-charlie @tsukiran-blog @mommyourcall420 @ak-aaa-li @ti-mame @ellesalazar @seijaelee @hiraethwa

a/n: this is so late im so sorry writers block is a little bitch but omg this is the last part! I hope you all like it xx

previous part // series masterlist

The living room was hardly silent, between the sitcom playing on TV and Atsumu’s incredibly loud chewing, but it still felt like the air was thick and still around you. You were sure it was just you, and not Atsumu who felt this way. It likely had to do with your apprehension, trying to prepare yourself for the topic at hand. You remembered Osamu’s words, drawing confidence from his encouragement. You tried to revise in your head how to approach this, but your bravery was failing you.

How the hell were you supposed to tell your soulmate that you weren’t in love with him?

Osamu’s platonic soulmates theory didn’t sound all too convincing to you, but hearing that it came from Kita did give you some confidence. You were sure Kita would never put forth an idea that he didn’t consider to have merit. So maybe there was some weight to his words. You were still on the fence though. It all depended on what Atsumu had to say about it.

Speaking of, you watched Atsumu slurp down his ramen like it was his last meal on earth, and you could empathize with him. His routine was grueling. A lot went into being a pro athlete, much more than you could have anticipated. You almost felt bad for springing this on him after a tiring day when he was trying to wind down. But you didn’t exactly have any other opportunity for it.

You cleared your throat and shifted in place, turning so you were facing Atsumu instead of the TV. He turned to look at you, slurping up a noodle dangling from his mouth before licking his lips and giving you a look.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You fidgeted with your fingers, unable to look him in the eye. Atsumu seemed to freeze, leaning forward to place his bowl on the coffee table before facing you and giving you his full attention. Somehow that made it harder for you to get the words out. Your mouth opened and closed like a dumb goldfish. Several moments passed.

Atsumu’s hand landed on top of your own, halting the nervous movements of your fingers. You closed your eyes, feeling a sudden wave of shame wash over you.

“Just say it.” He spoke gently, as if understanding the turmoil going on in your head. You looked up at him, at the calming brown of his eyes and the soft curl of his mouth, and you felt yourself tear up.

“You don’t deserve this.” You breathed, shaking your head. “I can’t do this to you. I’m a horrible person.”

His lip ticked up in a little smile. “Ya gotta give me more than that, babe. I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“I don’t-” You felt the words pour out of you like vomit. “I don’t think I love you. Not like I should. And it’s tearing me apart because I care for you so much and Osamu told me about this thing called platonic soulmates which sounds like bullshit, I know, but it explains the way I’m feeling! But sometimes I just feel like I’m a bad person and this is my way of justifying it-”

“Wait-”

“And I do love you. So much Tsumu, you’re my closest friend and you understand me so well but I don’t feel it romantically at all, which is so fucked up-”

“Hey!” You stopped short, staring at the man before you with teary eyes. You expected him to look horrified. Maybe confused. Definitely hurt. But all you saw was amusement.

“Ya gotta cool it.” He grinned, running a hand through your hair while the other squeezed yours comfortingly.

“S-sorry.” You choked out, sniffling a bit.

Atsumu sighed, staring down at your joined hands. The moment was silent except your wet sniffles, and the very low volume of the TV playing in the background. You watched as Atsumu smiled a bit.

“I’m relieved.” He spoke up, and you blinked at his words. “I always thought I was a fuckin’ asshole, ya know? ‘Cause yer so beautiful and a great person. But kissing ya was kinda painful.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“Yer telling me the thought of layin’ a smooch on me didn’t make ya wanna barf?” Atsumu retaliated, and you fell silent, still sneering. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

“What did ya say it was called?”

“Platonic soulmates.”

Atsumu hummed. “Makes sense. Yer my best friend.”

You smiled at that, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”

When he opened his arms, you fell into them, reveling in his embrace. Somehow, it felt ten times better than any time you had hugged him. You figured it had to do with the fact that your chronic guilt was not bothering you anymore. You buried your face in Atsumu’s neck.

“I love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

A bout of silence.

“But not like that.”

You let out a laugh. “I get it, Tsumu.”

“Just wanted ta make it clear.”

“Shut up.”

And he did. You smiled and settled into him, feeling lighter than you had in years.

……………………

When Osamu saw the look on Atsumu’s face, he immediately froze. He knew, in that instant, that you had talked to his brother. He just knew Atsumu too well to not know any change in his demeanor. And his demeanor had definitely changed. Except it wasn’t the change he was expecting.

Atsumu looked more relaxed. Happier, even? Maybe that was going too far. But then his twin was grinning up at him and settling into a stool in front of the counter, and Osamu could no longer ignore the spring in his step.

“What’s got ya so preppy?” He tested, trying not to build up his hope. Atsumu grinned.

“I just got answers ta some really old questions.” He replied, and Osamu raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna tell me what yer talkin’ about?”

And Atsumu did, sounding jovial, and with a light tone. Osamu stayed rock still as he spoke, unable to believe that Atsumu too had felt this way his whole life. He was almost shocked that he had missed such a huge part of his brother’s feelings, but it was overshadowed by the kindling of hope in his chest at the prospect that he could actually be with the girl he loved.

So when Atsumu had stopped talking, and Osamu had served him a plate of fresh Onigiri, he worked up the courage to drop another bomb on his twin. One that was arguably worse than the Platonic Soulmates one.

“Tsumu,” he began. “What do ya think about her datin’…. someone else?”

“Hm?” Atsumu looked up at his brother. “Why? She like someone?”

Osamu nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He finally let the words leave his mouth.

“M-me.”

Atsumu stopped eating then, eyes meeting Osamu’s. Osamu felt like he was holding his breath, heart racing.

“I like her too. Uh, it’s- I’ve liked her for a while. Didn’t do anythin’ for obvious reasons, ya know.”

Atsumu sighed, turning back to his plate. He bit into another rice ball.

“What is this? Kimchi mayo? It’s real good.”

Osamu blinked, trying to fight off his incredulity in favor of staring down his brother.

“Are ya for real?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Samu, ‘m not really shocked. It’s pretty obvious ya got a thing for her. And I don’t have anything with her at all, so if ya wanna date, go ahead.”

Then he gave Osamu a lopsided grin, and Osamu felt like everything in the universe had just fallen into place.

“Ya better not break her heart though. She’s still my soulmate.”

Osamu’s smile was genuine. His relief was immense. He felt almost stupid with joy at that point. And he realized he gave Atsumu far less credit than his due. His brother had just stumped him completely, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“I won’t.”

………………….

Your and Osamu’s first kiss wasn’t anything to write home about. It was at a train station, rushed and messy, so quick that you almost didn’t feel it. It was immediately followed by a feeling of regret, panic and guilt. Something you both wanted so bad, but couldn’t have. So forbidden that it broke your heart into pieces.

Your second kiss was the exact opposite in every single way. Everything that had broken your heart seemed to mend now. Heart and stomachs both full after the wonderful date you had just been on, when Osamu finally leaned down to press his lips on yours. It felt like every fiber of your body had been pulled taut and then released, and your hands felt shaky as you finally allowed them to run over his body. His own grip was worryingly tight, arms enveloping you completely, not that you minded. You reveled in the feeling of his mouth, hoping you never stopped kissing him. Hoping he never let you go.

The kiss did end. But he never let you go.

[itsgxsly]

-F1 DRIVERS AS BOOK TROPES

Max Verstappen as “from hate to love”

You loved your job. It was your dream since you were little to be able to work in the world of Formula 1. So when, after many years studying and doing minor jobs, the Red Bull team offered you a position as a press officer with them, you didn't doubt your response. You were going to work for one of the best teams on the grid with a good salary. Basically you were going to live among cars and tires traveling from country to country. It sounded like a true paradise.

Although thanks to Max Verstappen it had almost become hell.

You didn't even understand what you had done to him to make him hate you so much. During your first days working with him everything had gone well between the two of you, you could even have a decent conversation. But after a few months of working with him, his attitude had completely changed, to the point that the only thing he directed at you were bad looks and unpleasant words. At that time, his way of treating you had hurt you, because you would say that you had developed a little crush on the Dutch driver.

At first you had tried to understand him, the world of F1 was tiring at times and could affect the drivers, but when the only reaction you received from Max when trying to be nice were bad answers, you too reached your limit. You didn't remember when your breaking moment had been, but now you knew that you tried to hate Red Bull's golden boy the same way he hated you. You put that stupid crush aside and stuck to doing your job, also putting aside any attempt to get close to him.

Max had noticed how you had begun to distance yourself in some way, no longer trying to greet him in the mornings in the paddock or trying to encourage him so that he wouldn't hate going to interviews and press conferences so much.

He was an asshole and he knew it was his fault.

Max hated you. But he didn't hate you because he didn't like you or because you did something to him. In reality it was quite the opposite. Max hated you because he wasn't able to understand how you could attract him so much. He didn't know if they were those smiles so bright that they almost made him fall to his knees and that now he never saw anymore. Or as always you were attentive to what he needed even though that wasn't even your job.

To be honest with himself, Max hated the fact that he didn't really hate you at all. And he had screwed up.

Plus, to top it off, Max had screwed up even more today. It seemed like every time he thought about trying to change something with you it made him do some horrible gesture that the Dutchman scolded himself for later.

He didn't want to drop his troubles and his bad mood on you. In anyone's eyes his career hadn't been the least bit bad. For God's sake, he had come second.

But that definitely didn't work for his father, so when Max, who was already disappointed for not having won, saw his father's face when he got out of the car, not even the congratulations of his team or the double podium could change how his sour mood. And you were the one who had to suffer it first hand.

When you approached him about to lead him to the post-race interviews, you already knew you were going to be a tough sell today.

“Max” you said his name as you followed him. He was already late for interviews and you know he doesn't hate leading to a fine that he wouldn't make the team happy.

"Max!" Your scream stopped him and he turned sharply to you.

"What?" His voice sounded sharper than you had ever heard before.

"You have to go to the interviews" you were exhausted from repeating the same phrase that he already knew by heart.

"Screw the fucking interviews." With that he turned and followed the path to his pilot's room. You followed him without thinking twice.

“Hey, listen to me. I know you're not having the best day of your life, but you have to go through the interviews. If only to give reporters dirty looks. Do it and that's all for today."

"Yeah. And I'll just have to listen to how they repeat my father's face over and over again for having lost the race,” he complained, plopping down on the couch in his room while he ran his hand over his forehead.

“Come on Max, you can't even call it losing. You came second. It's a good result ”you claimed him without fully understanding the reason for his mood. You thought you knew more or less here the issue was going, but if he didn't speak you weren't going to get involved.

"Yeah, my father clearly doesn't think so" he looked at you letting out a sarcastic smile before covering his face with his hands again.

You let out a defeated sigh. In the years that you knew Max you had been able to see that his father's opinion was very valuable to him and, in your opinion, Jos Verstappen was a real idiot who did not know how to value his son.

Seeing Max's defeated figure, something that you considered empathy entered your body, so you walked over to sit next to the Dutchman, leaving a small space between you. Max uncovered his face and looked at you when he noticed your closeness. You let him be the one to decide if he wanted you to leave or not, and after he hesitated for a moment, he seemed to decide on the last option.

Slowly, Max brought his body closer to yours, closing the little space that was left, and hugged you. At first it was a little tense and uncomfortable, especially because of your surprise, but then you let yourself relax and hugged the boy a little tighter, letting him rest his head in the space between your shoulder and your neck.

“Thank you” was Max who spoke. His voice sounded weird from having his face hidden in your shoulder.

“Wow. I think it's the first time in all these years I've heard you say that.” Even though it was a joke, there was a bit of pain in your tone.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no right to treat you badly all these time” Max apologized. He didn't know if it was because of the vulnerability of the moment or because he was too lost in the smell of your perfume, but maybe now was his time to fix things.

"Do not worry, everything is fine. But I would appreciate it if you stop being a headache every time you have interviews" you reproached him.

Max laughed and his laughter tickled your skin. You realized then that you hadn't separated yet, but you were comfortable and it didn't seem like Max had any intention of separating from you either. You would have to have a long talk with Christian about why his driver hadn't appeared at any conference.

You remained silent for a while longer until Max spoke again.

“Can I take you on a date? You know, to make up for how I've behaved this time…” his voice sounded more doubtful as he finished the sentence.

“If you promise me that you are going to attend all your appointments without complaining, and that you are going to tell Christian that it is your fault that neither of us are doing our job right now, I might think about it.”

"Deal"

[saerins]

─── 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.7k | content: angst, an alternate ending for this fic: whole

notes: for @veraberaxx who requested for this !! i know some of you guys would’ve stayed with nagi okay <3 he’s such a precious one here

summary: sae rarely knows what he’s doing when he comes to you. and sometimes, by the time he figures it out, it’s all way too late and you’re too far gone.

sae remembers you better than he can make sense of. you, and every little thing you do.

how you overcook your eggs in the morning when he’s on video call with you. how you make his bad days so much better without even having to try because you’re the only person in the world who can make him laugh. how your hands feel against his cheeks when you’re admiring him in that cute way you do.

god, he misses you. and he’s never been able to understand why people constantly feel the need to be around each other physically until now.

a conversation that was supposed to be a pastime haunts him.

“you sure it’s what’s best for her though?”

sae blinked, having no clue what his captain was even alluding to. “what are you talking about?”

his captain sighed, leaning back against the door, crossing his arms. “i mean, she’s probably waiting for you right? to go home?”

of course you are. you’re always waiting for him. what was his captain going on about?

“are you ever going to?”

is he?

he finds himself stuck; he’s not sure. there’s the part of him that yearns for you, that wants you around, that wants to live somewhere where you can be by his side.

“i mean, i could ask her to move with me.” it was a valid option, right?

his captain shook his head. “dude, then what happens if you break up? she’ll have uprooted her whole damn life for you, moved away to some faraway place.”

it was something he couldn’t find a response to. and maybe now he’s regretting not having more experience in this field because what’s he supposed to do? he wants you, yes. he wants to make this work, yes.

but can he? he doesn’t fucking know.

sae’s horrible at this.

how does he do this? how can he speak normally to you after all the thinking he’s done? he wants to be with you, really. but how can he be when you’re so far away? when he doesn’t know when or if he’ll come back?

“sae, you there?”

he’s pulled back into the present when you call his name. he can’t even remember what you were talking about before he zoned out.

“yeah, sorry i’m here, was just tired,” he offers, aware that he’s been tired a lot lately. but you keep believing him, maybe because he is but not in the way you think.

physically, yes maybe. but it’s not something he can’t tolerate. but mentally? it’s the biggest toll he’s ever taken. and as much as he doesn’t want to, maybe he can’t keep doing this to you. can’t keep stringing you along with him, with his unsureness and his doubts.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

fuck, this is way harder than he thought it’d be. hearing your voice crack is enough to make him lose his mind. which is why he does this swiftly, can’t have you swaying his heart when he’s made up his mind.

maybe he should’ve chosen a better timing to break up with you than in the locker room right before his next game. it’s stupid, yeah, but he knows if he doesn’t get it done now he’s just going to delay it until he doesn’t even want to do it anymore.

sae’s phone vibrates right after he hangs up, and he feels his heart breaking into pieces reading your message.

you don’t want me anymore, sae?

he does. he really does. but he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with this, with himself, with you. he really wants to keep you forever, but he can’t.

maybe it’s pathetic. and maybe it’s an excuse. but maybe if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

he hopes it will be.

it’s stupid, stupid, stupid. it’s so fucking stupid.

sae does it anyway.

he types nagi seishiro into the stupid google search because just who is this guy, anyway? he’s a little peeved about having your stories with him pop up all the time.

“just don’t watch it, stupid.”

“fuck off, rin.”

as if it was that easy.

scores of articles pop up in his phone, all relating to how nagi seishiro is soccer’s next top genius or upcoming star player. sae feels a scowl on his face as he presses into one of the article headers—nagi seishiro, bachelor no more?

and there it is, a picture of you and nagi walking down the street, hand in hand and sae wants to kill himself right now. nobody else is supposed to be intimate with you like that, and he had thought he knew what he was signing up for when he broke up with you so evidently he thought wrong.

but he isn’t given any time to heal a broken heart, and he thinks he deserves it anyway because it’s his fault that the both of you are where you are in the first place, so maybe he’ll just have to keep on living like this, with half his heart displaced and his devotion always wavering.

sae’s almost sure he can keep this game up—this game of ignoring your existence. it’s the only way he’ll make it out of this alive. but one day he’s bound to slip up.

and that happens to be tonight, when he’s tipsy and forlorn.

your number’s the first one he calls as he sits on his balcony, admiring the view that’s pretty lacklustre without you in it. barely five rings and you pick up.

but it’s not your voice.

“hello?”

by his guesses, it’s nagi. sae has to look at the clock on his phone. it’s 10pm in spain, which means it’s 5am in japan—and nagi’s the one picking up your calls?

“um—”

sae’s rehearsed countless situations of what he might say when you picked up depending on your reaction, but how was he supposed to know someone else was going to pick up?

what the fuck is he supposed to say to your boyfriend?

“oh,” nagi says, voice fading away slightly before coming back. “you’re itoshi sae.”

“yeah.”

“y/n’s washing up right now,” nagi tells him, carefree. “want me to tell her to call you back?”

“no, that’s fine.” because there’s no need for that. because sae’s going to dig himself a hole and lay in it. you probably won’t be able to reach him.

nagi says okay, and sae thinks he’s about to hang up when he hears him ask a question, “do you still love her or something?”

“no.”

nagi hums, “you’re a terrible liar. why would you be calling her at this timing then?”

“wrong number.”

“still terrible.”

“okay bye.”

“wait—” nagi calls out just before sae hangs up and he pauses for a while. sae can hear you humming in the background before you fade away again. it’s torture, really.

“what do you want?” sae sighs. he’s tipsy and in no mood to talk to anyone but you.

cruel, cruel world.

“if you’re not done with her,” nagi sighs too, because both of them would rather be talking to you than each other. “maybe you should tell her.”

sae’s just a little taken aback because why is your boyfriend telling your ex to talk to you with such intentions?

“don’t get me wrong, i’m taking better care of her than you ever did,” nagi says, getting on sae’s nerves, “but she thinks you hate her. and i really don’t like to see her sad.”

sae feels his heart dropping to the ground.

“i’d like to tell her that you’re so in love with her that you’re still calling her at 5am, but i’m not gonna.”

“you’re weird.”

“maybe,” nagi compromises, “but at least i’m not the stupid one who let her go.”

after a long pause, nagi resumes, “it’ll be too late soon if you don’t speak up.”

and then all sae can hear is the dial tone, and all he can feel is misery.

sae didn’t realise what nagi meant by it being too late if he didn’t speak up soon. that’s why he’s now running across the airport like a madman, it’s why everyone and everything drowns into the background, like they’re half-muted and swirling together.

in his bid to forget you, he’s been avoiding going on social media at all. he’s gone complete radio silence on everyone except for his teammates. he’s been so far less of himself that even his own brother is tired of trying to reach out to him.

it’s been several months since then.

maybe it’s a cruel joke that’s playing on him now; the day he comes back online, the day he decides to take nagi’s stupid advice—you’re already engaged to him.

you’re about to become mrs nagi soon and sae’s really never going to forgive himself.

it’s funny how easily the realisation comes to him; how he can never get over you, how he should’ve never pushed you away. he wants your good morning texts and your goodnight kisses, your bad cooking because he’s worse at it. your laugh, he wants to hear it next to his ear while you’re both about to fall asleep. everything about you—he wants it.

and he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing right now, he’s running on pure adrenaline. he’s not even dressed for a wedding—not in his black sweater and black slacks. but fuck this, he thinks, stealing a cab from someone else, he just needs to see you. has to.

it’ll be too late soon if you don’t speak up.

nagi was long ready to propose to you. he probably already had a ring by the time sae got up the guts to call you.

it’s 1pm and he doesn’t even know if you’ve said your vows yet. he can’t remember anything rin told him over the phone and now his brother isn’t even picking up. nobody’s posting anything online either, fuck.

doesn’t help that his cab driver’s a foul mouth with an equally foul temper.

“could you drive faster?”

“oh sure, why don’t i just tell all the traffic lights to make way for little prince over here?”

sae sinks into the seat. today is really not his day, but he’ll screw the universe before he lets it tell him that he shouldn’t be doing this.

it’s 1.23pm by the time sae reaches the church, and the tall black doors never looked more intimidating. it looms over him, and he’s almost afraid to open it. but he has nothing more to lose except for you—so he opens the double doors anyway, runs down the corridors until he’s at the right hall; and it’s too loud the way he flings the doors open, the way the silence rings in his head when everyone in the room turns to face him.

sae’s only looking at you though, and even from this distance he can see your gaze fixed on him—like how everyone else’s is—and then the hushed whispers start to come but he doesn’t care for that. he catches rin in the crowd too, wide-eyed and with that what the fuck are you doing stare.

it’s clear that sae has no clue what he’s doing, why else would he be crashing a wedding he wasn’t even invited to? but his gaze turns back to you and sae freezes in the middle of the aisle, cheeks and nose red from the cold and he can see the sorrow in your eyes as you hold nagi���s hands.

sae opens his mouth until he catches you shaking your head, and then he stops. that’s when you break his heart to save him the further humiliation.

you turn back to nagi and smile the sweetest sae’s ever seen you smile.

“i do.”

sae would’ve already gone home if rin hadn’t stopped him. he would’ve been on the first flight back to spain by now but instead he’s here, at your wedding reception, entertaining rin’s friends.

“not my friends,” he grumbles, but it sure seems like it.

entertaining these guys isn’t his first choice, but he supposes it’s much better than watching the videos they’re playing of you and nagi’s time together up until now.

“hey, can i borrow him for a while, you guys?”

it’s cruel how you ask him to follow you, how you invite him to the dance floor. how he has to put his hand on your waist and know that it’s not leading to anything more, that you’re not his and you never will be.

“so, what do i owe the pleasure of you gatecrashing my wedding?”

you look beautiful. you smell pretty. you’re everything he wants.

sae doesn’t answer. you already know it anyway.

“sei told me,” you say, still not looking at him. “about how you called at 5am that one time.”

“oh, did he now.”

“mhm,” you nod your head and sae catches a whiff of your shampoo. his favourite. everything about you is his favourite. “you know, i wanted it to be you.”

sae looks confused and you chuckle, and god how he’s missed hearing that. “i dreamed of us being the ones to say i do, for a long time actually.”

he doesn’t know what to make of this, doesn’t know why you’re telling him all of this. he especially doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s the same for him.

“lucky for you it’s not me, then,” he chokes out, looking across the room at nagi, who nods at him. sae thinks that at least you ended up with someone who really seems to care about you.

you laugh nervously, “yeah, lucky me.” you’re soft, like you’re not convinced, but sae knows better than that. you’d never go through with it if you weren’t sure.

but she thinks you hate her. and i really don’t like to see her sad.

“i don’t, by the way.”

for the first time now, you look at him. “huh?”

“i don’t hate you, i never did,” sae explains, painfully aware that this is neither the time nor place but he doesn’t think he’ll ever see you or talk to you again so it’s now or never.

and you smile, and he loves that. loves you.

“how’s he treating you?”

“sei?” you turn to look at your husband, grinning from ear to ear when you see that isagi and reo are messing about with him. “he’s perfect.”

sae begs to differ. you are, that’s all he knows.

“good then.”

“what, are you planning to beat him up if i said no?”

“no,” sae scoffs. “but i’d steal you away.”

for a moment, your head lays on his chest and the way his heart beats brings you back to the present, to the fact that sae is someone from the past and he should stay there.

“so what now, itoshi sae?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him, an invisible line drawn between the both of you.

sae shrugs, and he knows what time it is. “back to spain, back to soccer, i guess.”

no longer back to you.

he now has an answer to his captain’s question.

“i’ll see you around, itoshi sae.” (you think you’d still have to watch his games when he plays because seishiro watches them. even if he says it’s a little disturbing that the one doing so well is your ex-boyfriend.)

“are you ever going to?”

no, he can’t go home anymore. it doesn’t exist.

sae nods. and he manages one last smile, a subtle one, a soft one, the one you’re so familiar with, the one you’ve been missing all this time. you press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling.

sae remembers you, and every little thing you do. especially how you manage to slip away from him, the only love he ever knew.

“sayonara, y/n.”

[carleycore]

When they insult you (Kenma and Oikawa pt. 2)

A/N thank you all for the suggestions and support! The ideas came from @multi-fandom-fanfic !!

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (i think that’s right) 

Warnings: Mentions of eds, self deprecating thoughts and fluff

Part One 

(Kenma)

After you left he felt bad, he really did. But, he was still frustrated so he finished the stream and went to bed. Hoping you would’ve cooled down by then, but you hadn’t. You were fast asleep in the guest room with dried tears on your face.

The next day he apologized, you forgave him, and he thought that was the end of everything.

The only difference he noticed was how you seem more tired and less enthusiastic.

Before, you were more than happy to wedding plan, and it made him smile seeing how happy you were.

Now, every little thing was seeming to stress you out and you were gone a lot more.

Upon further inspection, he found out you had gotten a job.

“Y/N? Why did i find out that you were working at the new arcade downtown?”

“Oh,” you answered tiredly, “you wanted me to, you remember?”

And he did remember. And he felt horrible.

Somehow his fans knew too.

“What do you mean, what's wrong with Y/N?” he was reading his chats. His entire stream had comments flooded with questions about Y/N

Why isn't Y/N posting anymore?

Did you and your fiancee break up?

Y/N looks so tired recently.

And he knew they were right. Ending his stream he went downstairs and saw you crying on the couch. Looking from your phone to your computer like your life depended on it.

“Is... Is everything okay?” He asked, cuddling you.

“Yeah,” you sniffled, “just balancing school, work, and the wedding is a lot. It's getting overwhelming.”

“Y/N, I'm so sorry. I was just having a bad day and I took it out on you. I'm so so sorry my love.”

“It's okay, Ken. Just please, never do that again.”

“Noted, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

(Oikawa)

Oikawa didn’t apologize. He didn’t tend to. But, you didn’t need him to. You just carried on with your life, only difference was now you were working out more and eating less. 

And Tooru noticed. Complimenting on how beautiful you looked. He must’ve really thought you looked good as the very next day he informed you his friends were coming over for dinner. The same friends he saw in the store.

"Y/N you look beautiful!” Nami complimented, handing you a present filled with baby stuff.

“Thank you, I’ve been trying.” 

“You don’t need to work out,” she said seriously, “I wish I could gain some weight, I hate how disproportionate my body looks due to my bump,” She whined, as you both took a seat at the table.

“That’s nonsense dear,” her husband chimed in. You look amazing. 

That was the support you wished you got from your husband.

Especially now. You didn’t feel well at all.

You knew something was wrong.

And you were right. The very next moment you passed out on the table. 

Next thing you knew, you were lying on a hospital bed. 

“Oh my gosh, Y/N. I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you or the baby.”

“You got really fucking lucky Oikawa,” Nami sneered, “she was starving herself because you talked about the way she looked while she’s pregnant with YOUR baby.”  

After making sure you were okay and slapping Oikawa Nami and Sato left. 

“Y/N- I-”

“Just save It Tooru. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“I-I know you’re mad at me. You have every right to be. Just know It’ll never happen again and I’ll never stop trying to get you to forgive me. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m so, so sorry.”

I hope you guys enjoyed! More characters coming soon.

[saruman-the-silly]

Oh hello... I wanted to make a request, I wanted to know how the Papas would react to seeing that y/n is a little chubby. Because I was looking in the mirror and I was so sad about what I saw, and now I'm lying in bed scrolling through Tumblr thinking about making this request... You don't have to do it if you don't want to, It's just that I love the way you write that I kept thinking about it.

I very much want to, thank you very much :D there is nothing, and I repeat, nothing wrong with being a little chubby, or being a lot more chubby! Whatever size you are, you are beautiful, remember that <3

This also gives me a reason to finally write something for Primo and Secondo so thank you hehe

soooooo I present to you, headcanons about the papas with a chubby reader! (gender neutral ofc hehe)

(I wrote this kind of quickly so if there are horrible grammatical errors, I will try and fix them as I find them lol)

------------------------------

Headcanons: Papas with a chubby reader

Primo:

He's very old, and a bit old-fashioned, so he just instantly thought you were an angel when he saw you. Back in his days, the curvier you were, the more attractive you were.

When he got to know you as a person, he grew to love you very quickly.

All of your curves and imperfections were a work of art for him.

Primo is also such a gentle person, and would notice the instant you were feeling down/insecure. He doesn't pressure you to talk about it though, but he still makes sure you know that he's there for you.

If you wanna talk tho? He would listen really well, and after you had poured your insecurities out on the table, he would assure you that your curves just made you more, well, you. And you were his amore, the most beautiful thing in the world.

Secondo:

He's a serious guy who does not like to talk about emotions and stuff. (I don't think he even knows how but lmao anyway)

Secondo's usually serious and no-bullshit charade was quickly torn away by you and your delightful presence. (He was freaking out like crazy when he first met you, Terzo would not let him forget how he stumbled over his words when he was first introduced to you)

Also, fuck, he couldn't keep his eyes from you. Every time you are in a same room with him, his gaze almost involuntarily shifts back to you.

He loves you. So much. So when you came to him, telling how you didn't think you looked good, he was a little confused. How could you see yourself in such a light, when you had made such an impact on him?

He reassures you that yes, he wants to be with you and nobody else.

He doesn't really know say anything else. But he doesn't need to, his actions prove the endless love he harbours for you.

Terzo:

Ah, Terzo, our hopeless romantic.

Terzo has seen many different types of bodies up close and personal during his life, but not one of them could match your beauty.

Needless to say, when he first met you he fell. Hard. Like, head over heels. Out the door went his playboy days, he only had eyes for you.

He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You had trouble believing him, when he confessed his undying love for you. (Don't blame him he just likes to be theatrical but he really did mean it)

You confessed to Terzo about your insecurities, and he proved himself to be a great listener. After talking, he reassured you that yes, he meant what he said, yes, he wants to be with you.

He would then bring you in front of a mirror, and gently kiss and caress all the parts of your body you are insecure about.

Copia:

He would understand your struggles very well. Having a history with insecurities himself, Copia isn't a stranger to body dysmorphia.

Copia loves you. So much. You helped him get through a lot of his insecurities, so, now was his turn.

He let you vent, while making you a cup of tea, and wrapped you in a tight hug afterwards. You cried in his arms and he just held you and comforted you.

Copia is very direct about his feelings toward you. He lists all the things he loves about you, and tells you how you size just makes you all the more perfect. (the man loves thick thighs)

He would do his best to make you see yourself in the same light he sees you. Copia gently traces over your stretchmarks with his finger, then kisses them and whispers to you how beautiful you are.

---------------------------

Thanks for the request annnd enjoy :D

Remember, you are beautiful no matter your size <3

[peachypinkygloss]

congratulations on 2k btw you deserve it all!!! 🫶 the trope i’ve been haven’t seen much is like athlete taehyung, so i was wondering like famous basketball player taehyung and him and oc have like this situationship/ friends with benefit type thing going on for a while now🫣

thank you!💘

thank you so much love!! 🥺🫶🏻 and o.m.g yesss!!

fangirl

Fucking Taehyung after a basketball practice is your favourite activity.

pairing: professional basketball player!taehyung x fem!reader

genre: friends with benefits au, smut

warnings: reader thinks sports are stupid ☹️👎🏻 (same girly), unprotected oral sex, public sex, cunnilingus, tae's eating it like it's his last meal, a little over 1k.

a.n.: omg i just remembered this one taehyung edit as a basketball player... iykyk!!! 🤭

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game if you want to participate and send in a request of yours! 🤍

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

You're not a big fan of sports in general. Sports come with sweat and sweating is not for you; you hate the damp feeling on your skin. Plus, the odour is horrible, gosh, and especially when the smell comes from men.

Sports are stupid, you think. Why run after a sphere and get emotional about it when the sphere in question didn't go into the opposite team's goal?

But you're just a girl, what do you know about sports anyway... Well, maybe you know one thing. The athletes are pretty good looking.

You have a preference for basketball players, honestly. Tall, big hands, big dick...

Yeah, maybe you like at least one sport. Basketball. Their players are good, so skilled with their hands and mouth, they know what to do. You lied; you're a big fan of them. Or just one in particular.

The one who wrecks your ass every time you ask politely.

As you're sitting on one of the benches in the changing room, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, you finally hear the door opening and then closing, sneakers stepping on the floor.

You stand up, pleased to see the person you were waiting for all this time; Kim Taehyung. Your favourite basketball player and the best hook-up you've ever had in your life. Literally.

He smiles when his eyes settle on you, your mini-skirt almost the size of a belt and a tube pink top covering your tits. "Didn't expect to see you here," he smirks, playful eyes looking you up and down, enjoying your outfit that leads to little imagination.

Taehyung's the best in his team, the most famous and attractive — you can't forget that. That's why he often practices alone, always perfecting his performance whenever he can because he's just so hardworking like that.

"Cut the act, I know you were hoping I was here waiting for you," you flirt and come closer to him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. "You took more time purposefully, didn't you?"

He chuckles, wetting his plump lips after. The corner of his mouth tugs upward as he takes a hold of your jaw. "You know I like you a little desperate," he replies in a low voice, raspy and deep.

He grabs your arms and forces you to back away until you hit the lockers behind you. "I'm more than just a little desperate," you admit, biting down on your lip as Taehyung's dark gaze stares at you, starting to get hungry.

"Yeah? Thinking about me got you all needy, doll?" He asks and you shamelessly nod. "I gotta do something about it then," he states, and you can't agree more. "Take your panties off, but keep the skirt on."

You execute yourself, excitement bubbling in your belly. You slide your underwear off, slick sticking to it, and toss them aside on the bench beside your purse.

Taehyung turns you around in one swift movement and you lay your hands flat on the lockers, gasping out when he kneels on the ground, having your pussy right in front of his face.

"Oh, Tae, not here... You can't," you sigh, reluctantly refusing him, but he doesn't think the same. Everywhere is a good place to eat your pussy, in his opinion.

He gropes your asscheeks, palming the meaty flesh in his large hands. Your core is heating up fast, cunt wet just by the sight of Taehyung's head so close to your femininity — an image to always remember.

He gives a smack to one of your cheeks, making it bounce after. "I think I can do whatever I want, doll," he answers back, passing a rough digit over your wet pussy lips. "I know you'll let me do anything I want," he concludes and he traces your clit, swiping smoothly on it with his finger covered in your arousal.

He runs his finger between your lips, teasing and playing with you. A good distraction from basketball, a good way to relax and think about things less stressful and more enjoyable like you.

He pulls your two globes of flesh apart and immediately dives in, making you arch your back and push your pussy into Taehyung's face. A satisfied groan doesn't miss to leave his throat, sending vibrations through your body.

His tongue explores your sex, slurping your juices, fulfilling his thirst by literally drinking your natural essence. The tip of his pink muscle circles your entrance, slipping in and out at a fast pace, already making you delirious.

Taehyung does not do things by half, he goes in determined, having one goal in mind and reaching it like nothing else matters. Your pleasure is the only thing important here and he won't stop until you're completely destroyed. All of this just with his mouth.

He holds your asscheeks apart, tongue flat on your pussy, literally breathing you in. He eats you out so well your eyes roll back into your skull, moaning out obscenely. This sure boosts Taehyung's ego, having you putty in his hands in seconds, saying his name over and over again as if it's a prayer.

You reach behind you and tangle your fingers in his bleached hair, pulling on it to at least hold onto something. "Fuck, Tae!" You curse, feeling tears forming in your eyes and the knot at the pit of your stomach tightening. If he keeps playing with your clit like that, you won't last long.

He hums in response, but keeps going. He has a better idea, though, so with his tongue he focuses on your pussy, sinking it in skillfully and drinking more of your wetness. He then sneaks an arm under you and reaches your clit, which makes you flinch slightly at the sudden change of contact.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" You yelp hurriedly, rolling your hips on Taehyung's face.

He does quick circular motions on your clit until your orgasm hits you hard. You cry out his name and grind on his tongue to drive off your high, your grip on his blond hair tightening. He grunts again, loving how you rub your pussy on him, not caring if you make a mess.

When you straighten your back, letting go of his head, he stands up, licking his lips clean. You turn around slowly on wobbly legs, catching your breath.

Taehyung looks delighted, like every time he gets you off on his tongue. "Now you gotta help me," he smiles smugly, referring to the very evident bulge in his basketball shorts.

"Sure," you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully.

.

.

.