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#wc stubs
Dead Dream: First Trophy
“Bansheee! Banshee Banshee!”
Banshee’s head shot up in startlement, nearly knocking Glasskit out of the nest. Glasskit glared at their great-uncle as they clambered back in.
“Yes, Stubs?” Banshee asked tiredly. 
“Oh, nothing. I just like saying your name.”
Banshee grumbled a reply and stuck her head beneath her paws as she tried to go back to sleep. 
Blinking after their ridiculous kin, Glasskit decided they weren’t that tired, rather quite the opposite, and padded after Stubs until he realized someone was following him. He grinned, wide and toothy. “Glassy lassie-laddie!”
“Don’t call me that,” Glasskit responded. “Can we train?”
Stubs tilted his head. “Train? Little kit, you’re still only three!”
“So? I want to train now!”
Stubs shrugged. “You got me there.” He gestured for them to follow him and lead the way to one of the many clearings ‘fenced’--as the family would say–by the thorns. Stopping in the center, he turned to face Glasskit. “So what do you want to know? Offense? Defense?”
“Off-what?” Glasskit asked, utterly confused.
“Uh–how to attack or how to fight off an attack?”
Glasskit considered that for a moment. “Attack!” they decided enthusiastically. 
Stubs’s eyes sparked. He leapt at Glasskit with his claws unsheathed. Shrieking in surprise, Glasskit ran behind a small cluster of stones, leaving Stubs to land expertly on the ground and look after them in confusion. 
“Don’t just jump at me!” Glasskit hissed, annoyance and fright apparent in their bristling fur.
Stubs blinked a few times. Then he shrugged again, sat down, and waited for Glasskit to reproach him. Glasskit did so quickly–they weren’t afraid, they had only been startled, but as soon as Glasskit was near, Stubs moved. As swift as a slippery fish, his paw swung, landing hard on Glasskit’s tail. Glasskit began to yowl when Stubs, more gently, pushed at their face, cutting them off. 
“No time to be in pain,” he instructed.
“Well, I am!” Glasskit growled, eyes stinging and pricking with tears as their tail was squashed against the ground.
“Then hold it and save it for later, when you’re somewhere safe. Now’s the time for focusing, gotcha? Focus. What do ya do?”
Glasskit searched around them for an answer, as if the thorns in the near-distance would reach into their ear and say it to them, but everywhere their eyes reached was blocked by the knowledge, the feeling of pain on their tail, and they struggled to push it away. Think!
They went limp, hoping Stubs would guess that they had given up. “Nuh-uh, try again,” Stubs told them. “Cats here don’t care if you admit defeat, they’ll rip your belly out as soon as they think ya weak enough to allow them. Don’t let them think that.”
Okay, something else then. Stubs was clearly expecting them to do something, and they will, but they had to do what was not expected of them. So what could throw off their great-uncle long enough to give them a chance? 
What did Stubs expect? My tail hurts so much!–it’s just pain, get over it. Now, what did Stubs expect? Glasskit looked back at their tail, where it was being held. The closest part of Stubs to them was his paw. He obviously expected them to attack that, perhaps bite his toe. Glasskit didn’t want to do what was expected, yet if it was the only part of his body they could harm, what else could they do?
“It hurts too much!” Glasskit wailed, voice trembling. 
Stubs’s ears twitched. “Ah, well, maybe we can finish this lat–”
Before he could finish, Glasskit spun around. The movement caused their tail to stretch unbearably, but they pushed through it. Biting hard onto Stub’s sheathed claw, they yanked their head back while pushing at the toe with their much smaller front paws. After a couple tugs, Glasskit thought that they must be too small to pull it off, but on the third, their head swung back far, thudding onto the ground, and they realized, claw in mouth, that they had managed to pull it off–quite literally.
Stubs’s jaws were clamped shut, a scream of pain just managing to escape through his teeth. His eyes were screwed closed, and when they opened, they blazed with fury. “You little!”
Glasskit forced themself not to run away again or let their fear show, though their body yelled at them to run or shake. Standing tall, or as tall as they could make themself to the much larger tom, they said, “just focus on something else.”
Stubs froze. Glasskit winced, preparing for a harsh blow. Instead, laughter sounded, so loud and sudden that it still made the kit flinch. “That’sa good one! ‘Focus on something else!’ Why, ain’t you a little shit? I love it!”
Glasskit smiled, pride warming them even at the unfamiliar name. But the pride was quickly replaced with guilt as they saw the small blood trail dripping from Stubs’s toe. His face twitched in pain, but otherwise he seemed fine, and his anger was gone. “I think that’s enough for now,” he decided. “Didn’t think I would be the one with a battle scar!”
Glasskit looked at their paws.
“Ah, don’t worry ‘none, I got plenty! Come, I think Red and Myrtle should be back with dinner by now!”
Warmth returned to Glasskit’s heart, spreading down to their paws as they bounced along beside their kin. Before they got far, however, Stubs stopped. “Wait!” He hurried back to the clearing, returning with his claw hanging from his lip. Was he hoping to reattach it?
But Stubs handed it to them. “Your first trophy!” Stubs declared, sounding thrilled. “The family will be so proud!”
Glasskit could hardly contain their joy, smiling ear to ear. They didn’t know what ‘trophy’ meant, but if this was how their family reacted, they couldn’t wait to gain more.
===================
--Stubs messing with Banshee. Or maybe he purposefully got Glasskit’s attention cause he wanted to train them?
--Glass doesn’t go by they/them just yet, but since this is their pov, it’s how they feel currently (they are genderqueer).
--I wonder how the family (mostly Glass’s parents) will react to this news?
--Since the family has long trees, anyone greater than an uncle is a ‘great-uncle.’ So Hound is great-pa, Bella is great-ma (or Bella-ma sometimes), etc.
@ambitiousauthor
@elementaldeityoffood 
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roosterr · 9 months
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if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333
the 141 falls asleep on you
wc: 2.1k
hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)
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price
✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.
✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.
✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.
✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.
✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.
✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.
✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.
✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.
✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.
✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.
✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.
✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.
✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"
✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.
✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.
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gaz
✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.
✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.
✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"
✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."
✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.
✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."
✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.
✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.
✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.
✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.
✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.
✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.
✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."
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soap
✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.
✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.
✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.
✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.
✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.
✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.
✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.
✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"
✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"
✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.
✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"
✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.
✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.
✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.
✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.
✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.
✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"
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ghost
✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.
✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.
✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.
✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.
✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.
✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.
✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.
✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.
✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.
✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.
✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.
✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.
✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.
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edsbug · 1 month
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sin and smoke
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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
contains: 18+ MDNI, smut, pure filth, smoking, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), edging, begging, praise, mean eddie (but in a hot way), wc: 1.3k
authors note: inspired by this beautiful edit by @hugdealer <3
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You're on the edge of release for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. Eddie's curls tickle the inside of your thighs. Your legs are draped over his shoulders, his strong hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady. You've lost track of how many times he's brought you to the brink of release, only to pull back, leaving you teetering desperately on the edge.
He pulls back just as you feel the heat coil tight in your belly again, hovering over your clit but refusing to give you the pressure you crave.
"Fuck, you're so close, aren't you, sweetheart?" His voice is rough, and you can practically hear the smirk on his lips. "But not yet. You don't get to cum until I say so."
He moves, and you whine at the loss of his mouth on you, your hips bucking involuntarily in search of friction. He chuckles, one hand trailing down your thigh to your pussy. His fingers brush against your clit, so lightly it's more of a suggestion than a touch, and you can't stop the desperate moan that escapes your throat.
"God, you're fucking dripping for me." His fingers slide through your folds, gathering the evidence of your arousal before he presses them into you, slowly. You clench around him, desperate for more, but he keeps his pace agonizingly slow, letting you feel every inch as he curls his fingers inside you.
Eddie dips his head again, pressing a kiss to your swollen, sensitive clit. You're so close to spilling over the edge again, your breath coming in gasps, but then he's gone, pulling his fingers out with a wet sound that makes your cheeks burn with shame. You want to scream, to beg, but the words die in your throat when you see what he's doing.
Eddie leans back on his heels, your wetness glistening on his fingers in the dim light as he brings them to his mouth. He licks them clean with a deliberate slowness, his eyes locked on yours.
He reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, then settles between your thighs again, wrapping his arms around you once more. He taps one out, places it between his lips, and flicks the lighter open.
You watch, dazed and frustrated, as he lights up the cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly. The smoke trails in the air, drifting lazily over your body.
The sight of him like this — wild hair, tattoos, lips still wet from you, with that damn cigarette hanging from his mouth — it's enough to make you clench around nothing, your body aching with need.
Eddie exhales a cloud of smoke, his eyes fixed on you the entire time. He's waiting, enjoying the way you squirm. The smoke twirls around him, adding to the heady, suffocating atmosphere of the room.
"Please," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling. "Eddie, please, I can't–"
He raises an eyebrow, taking another drag from his cigarette. You shiver as he exhales, the smoke curling around his head in a lazy halo.
"Patience, baby," he says, his voice rough and teasing as he trails a finger down your stomach, stopping just short of where you need him the most. "You can take it. I know you can."
You let out a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a groan, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent plea. But Eddie just chuckles, moving to stub the cigarette out in the ashtray beside the bed, returning his attention to you.
He finally places his mouth back between your legs, and you nearly sob with relief as you feel his breath against your skin again. But he doesn't touch you right away. Instead, he watches you squirm, his hands spreading your thighs wider as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy.
"Look at you", he murmurs, almost to himself. "So fucking pretty like this. All spread out, begging for it."
You can barely think straight, your mind a haze of need and frustration as you try to grind your hips against his face, but he holds you still, his fingers digging into your thighs.
"Such a dirty little thing", he tuts. Then, finally, he dips his head down, his tongue flicking out to swipe through your folds, slow and deliberate.
Your whole body jolts at the contact, a choked moan escaping your lips. He doesn't give you what you want right away, though. He takes his time, his tongue tracing lazy circles around your clit, dipping into your entrance only to pull back and start the whole process over again.
You're trembling, every nerve in your body alight with the need to cum, but Eddie keeps you right on the edge, never giving you enough to tip you over.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he groans against your skin. "Could eat you out for hours."
And he has. He's been at this for what feels like forever, bringing you to the brink only to pull back, leaving you a shaking, desperate mess under him.
When he finally, finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, it's like a bolt of lightning shooting though you. Your back arches off the bed, a broken cry tearing from your throat. But even then, he doesn't let you cum. He pulls back at the last second, his hands holding you down as you thrash in frustration.
"Not yet, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against you. "I want you to beg for it. I want to hear how much you need it."
"Please," you gasp, the word slipping out before you can stop it. "Please, Eddie, I need to–"
He cuts you off with another flick of his tongue, his hands spreading your thighs even further apart as he gets back to work, this time with more intensity. He laps at your clit, moving in precise tight circles. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the curls as you try to pull him closer, to grind yourself on his mouth, but he doesn't let you.
"Say it," his voice vibrating against your clit. "Say you need me. Say you need to cum for me."
"I need you," you sob, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "I need to cum, please, Eddie, please, I need it so bad."
That's all it takes. He latches onto your clit, sucking hard, and you cry out, hips bucking despite his hold on you. He moans against you, the sound vibrating through your entire body, and you're gone, falling over the edge into a release that's been building for hours. You scream his name, your vision going white with pleasure.
Eddie doesn't stop, his tongue working you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you're a quivering, gasping mess beneath him. He only pulls back when you're too sensitive to take anymore, resting his head against your trembling thigh.
His lips are slick, his hair tousled from where your fingers had gripped it, and there's a look of pure satisfaction on his face as he climbs up the bed to lie beside you.
"Good girl," he says, his voice soft and low as he brushes a stray strand of hair away from your sweat-dampened forehead. "Such a good girl for me."
You can't form a coherent response, your mind still floating in the aftermath. But Eddie doesn't seem to mind. He leans down, pressing a soft, almost tender kiss to your lips.
"Think you've got another one in you?" he says, his voice deceptively gentle as he nips at your lower lip. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
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“Are you gonna be a good girl?” || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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Summary: Coryo's friends have always been and probably will always be condescending towards you. When you refuse to stay home when he invites them over for dinner, you become aware of the intricate control that Coriolanus has skillfully woven around you, highlighting a sense of submission in your actions.
Warnings: reader smoking, age gap (r is 18 and Coryo is 25), manipulative, controlling, toxic!coryo, power dynamic, condescending behaviour,
Wc: 740
A/n: crap summary but i kinda got inspired by Priscilla and I lowkey imagined cailee as Priscilla in this but u don’t have to. I LOVE THIS MOVIE SM 😭 also pretend Arachne is still alive.
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"I want to visit my family later today, Coryo," you mention, casually flicking the ashes from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Coryo looks up from his newspaper, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”
"I want to see my family later today," you repeat, "I haven’t seen them in weeks." The sentiment is laced with a tinge of longing. With a cigarette delicately held between meticulously manicured nails, your painted lips articulate the words, the smoke swirling into the air.
A hush settles in the air until Coryo’s voice breaks the silence, his tone void of emotion. “You can’t. Not today,” he asserts, his attention returning to the newspaper. Your eyes fixate on him. “And why not?” You try not to raise your voice, but a hint of urgency slips through.
"Because, sweetheart, we have guests coming over for dinner." You roll your eyes. "And I want you here, yes?" he adds, pointing to you. “Who’s coming?” Coriolanus sighs deeply, dismissing the question with, “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does matter. Who’s coming, Coryo?” Your tone grows more agitated. He casually shrugs, “Just a few of my friends, that’s all.” The harsh stubbing out of your cigarette emphasizes your displeasure.
"Your friends?" you question, annoyance evident in your tone. Sensing your irritation, he casually discards his newspaper to the side. “Yes, does that bother you?” he spat in response, his words carrying a tinge of defiance.
You let out an exasperated laugh, “You know how I dislike your friends, Coryo. They’re horrible to me!” You grip the armchair tightly, leaning towards him. You can practically feel the irritation radiating off you.
Coriolanus dismissively rolls his eyes. “Please. They’re not horrible to you. You’re being dramatic—” The room is charged with tension as your hand forcefully slams on the table. “Yes. They are. They belittle me, Coryo!” The weight of your words hangs in the air, your chest heaving from the emotional intensity of the outburst.
It's true. Whenever you're around Coriolanus' friends, it's hard not to notice the condescending vibe they throw your way, the snarky comments about anything and everything about you.
The memory of your wedding day remains vivid in your mind, etched with indelible images of raised eyebrows and skeptical glances from all of Snow's friends as you walked down the aisle. The collective gaze left you with a lingering sense of embarrassment. You were only 17, and he was 24.
You were well aware of the swarm of thoughts buzzing through their minds every time they saw you with Coriolanus. According to them, you were too young, too naive, too quiet, and perhaps even too unintelligent to hold the title of First Lady.
The unsolicited opinions seemed to echo a common sentiment: Coriolanus should have chosen someone closer to his age, someone who shared more similarities with him.
Conversations with his friends were always filled with subtly belittling comments that Coryo either didn't notice or chose to ignore.
Arachne stood out as the harshest among them all. Her comments, in particular, were cutting and had a way of driving you out of the room, often leaving you with tears streaming down your face.
In their eyes, you were just weak. A wife who sat there and looked pretty. But you were more than that, you knew that, hell, even Coriolanus knew that, but he never spoke up.
"They just like to tease you. Don't be so sensitive," he scoffs, the nonchalance in his tone amplifying your frustration. You gnaw at your lips as Coriolanus rises with a sigh, leisurely stretching his neck before heading to the nearby table to pour himself a glass of alcohol.
"I don't want to be here," you whisper loud enough for him to hear you. "I want to see my family, Coryo," your voice trembling with the urgency of your plea. "You can't deny me of seeing my own family," you exclaimed, the words escaping your lips with an urgency that surprised even you.
His response was swift, harsh. He took hold of your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. "You are to stay here, do you hear me?" he commanded, his voice cutting through the air.
The forcefulness of his grip left you momentarily breathless. Your attempt to pull away was futile as his gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and expectation in his eyes. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as a wave of helplessness washed over you.
As your gaze meets his with glassy, doe-like eyes, Coriolanus can't help but be overcome with a sense of remorse. His hold gently eases, his fingers transitioning from your chin to delicately trace the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and stay, hm?" His voice was softer now. You swallow hard and you find yourself nodding, silently surrendering to the intricate web of control that Coriolanus deftly wove around you.
Coriolanus tenderly brushes away a stray tear that had dared to escape, his touch as soft as a fleeting whisper. Leaning in, he draws closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. The warmth of the kiss lingers for a brief moment, a delicate embrace, before he gently withdraws. "Now, go get ready," he says, his back turned to you as he pours himself another glass as you wordlessly leave.
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punkshort · 1 month
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In Another Life | Part II
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)
Chapter Summary: Danny unexpectedly drops Marcus off at your office, but it works to your advantage when you decide to use him as the subject for your next article, and your research brings the two of you much closer together.
Chapter Warnings: language, typical brother embarrassing his sister, threats of physical violence, a little fist fight, some blood from said fist fight, mention of drugs, jealousy, food consumption, fluff, flirting, sexual tension, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering
WC: 8.4K
Series Masterlist
Your apartment had devolved into utter chaos the last two days. It seemed like every time you rounded a corner, you had to dodge some person or scrap of metal or power tool, and it was getting on your last nerve. New York wasn't exactly known for spacious living arrangements as it was, so to have what little space you did covet overrun with your brother's shit really sent you into overdrive.
"Lizard's mom has a house in Queens, why the hell is all this shit here and not in her basement?" you snapped at Danny early one morning after you stubbed your toe on a drill.
"He's worried about her finding out what we're up to," Danny explained, and you immediately scoffed into your coffee.
"She's deaf in one ear and hasn't stepped foot in her basement since his dad died."
Danny agreed to move his time traveling project to Queens later that day.
The scowl on your face smoothed out the moment Marcus entered your kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes and looking absolutely devastating in the pajama pants you had bought for him just a few days prior. It took all your willpower not to let your eyes drop below his waist, having already made that mistake the day before. The noticeable bulge hidden amongst the thin sleepwear had you spacing out the entire train ride to work and you couldn't afford any distractions that day. You had a big meeting at eleven where you had to present the next topic for your column and you were scrambling. The source you had for your long-distance relationship idea fell through last minute, so now you were tasked with brainstorming a spectacular backup plan in the next four hours.
"Morning, General. How did you sleep?" Danny asked as he scooped cereal into his mouth.
"Quite well, thank you," he replied, then his eyes met yours and he smiled. "Good morning, my lady."
You grinned like a school girl, your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest when you stammered, "G-good morning." Danny rolled his eyes but chose wisely to keep his mouth shut.
Marcus was able to find his way around by that point, however he still seemed hesitant to just start opening your drawers and cupboards when he needed something. Tired of reminding him to just help himself, you set down your coffee and picked up your loaf of bread from the corner of the counter.
"Same as yesterday?" you asked him as you popped two slices of bread in the toaster, anticipating his answer.
"Please," he said with a grateful nod, then dutifully clasped his hands at his waist.
When Danny watched you crack some eggs into a frying pan along with a few sausage links, his jaw dropped.
"You're making breakfast for him but not for me?" he whined.
You swiveled around and pointed your spatula in his face. "He is our guest, thanks to you," you reminded him, and Danny quickly shut up.
"I do not wish to be a burden," Marcus said. He hadn't moved but his broad frame felt like it took up the entire room.
"You're not a burden, Marcus," you told him softly, then gave him a small, reassuring smile.
"Yeah, no worries, man," Danny said, clapping him firmly on the shoulder before dumping his dirty dishes in the sink. "I'm just giving my sister a hard time because it's obvious she wants to jump your bones."
"Danny!" you shrieked while throwing an oven mitt at his head. He dodged it and ducked out of the kitchen, his laughter fading down the hall towards his bedroom.
Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as you turned your focus back to the frying pan. When Marcus cleared his throat, you closed your eyes in dread because you knew what was coming.
"What did that mean, jump your bones?"
"Nothing, just ignore him," you said, sliding the eggs and sausage onto a plate. A few seconds passed when Danny's voice shouted down the hall, "It's a euphemism for sex!"
"Goddamnit," you muttered through clenched teeth. You began to storm out of the kitchen, prepared to kick Danny's ass, but Marcus shot an arm out to stop you.
"You look lovely today."
You gazed up at him, mouth agape, while you tried to find your voice.
Say something. Anything.
"Thanks. Uh, thank you," you mumbled, smoothing down the pink and white floral dress you picked out. On days where you had your big monthly meeting, you tried to make an effort to look like you belonged at a fashion magazine.
"Do you have plans today?" he asked, his eyes swooping down your frame appreciatively, and for once it didn't make your stomach turn when a man looked at you that way. "Daniel tells me there is a beautiful park in the city. I desire to see it and would very much enjoy your company."
You knew you were reading too much into it, but you couldn't help but feel like he was asking you on a date.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Marcus," you said, "I have to work today. But I promise we will see it before you go home."
Home.
His face fell at the word and he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to hide his disappointment.
"Of course, I understand. Thank you for breakfast," he said, sliding past you so he could pick up the plate you made for him. You chewed your lip and glanced at the time. If it were any other day, you would just call in sick, but today was too important to miss.
"I promise, okay?" you told him as you gathered your bags. "We will see Central Park before you leave. And whatever else you want."
He nodded and took a bite of his food. Although he appeared to be unbothered, you still felt an enormous amount of guilt.
"Danny!" you called from the front door, "this shit better be gone by the time I get home!"
"Yes, Mom!" he shouted back sarcastically from the bathroom. You rolled your eyes and gave Marcus a quick wave before hurrying out the door.
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You were fucked.
You had one hour until your meeting and you had absolutely nothing.
Already, you had done your usual brainstorming techniques five times over. You scrolled through social media, hoping to find some trend or topic that might be popular and garner attention, but you were coming up dry, so you kept circling back to your long distance relationship idea. You had sent out every feeler you could think of, asking any of your usual contacts if they had anyone you could use for a story about your chosen topic, but so far you weren't having any luck.
Suddenly, your phone rang and you lunged for it, hoping it was a lead, then groaned when you saw Danny's contact picture pop up on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Hey..." he began, and you could tell by the tone in his voice that you should brace yourself.
"What did you do?"
He laughed on the other end. "I didn't do anything. Actually, I did do something - I am getting all this stuff out of your place, but there's just one thing."
"Spit it out," you said, your eyes flickering to the time. 45 minutes to go.
"I can't take Marcus with us to Queens. There's no room in Lizard's car."
"So let him stay in the apartment."
"I'm not leaving him all alone in New York City!" he protested. You heard some familiar sounds in the background of the call and you frowned.
"Where are you?"
Danny paused and you instantly began to put your defenses up.
"I'm... in your lobby. With Marcus and Lizard."
"You're what?!" you exclaimed in a loud whisper, glancing around to make sure nobody overheard you in your cubical.
"I told to him to just stay in the lobby and read your crappy magazines and if anyone asks, to tell them he's here for meeting."
"Danny! You can't do this, I can't babysit a fucking Roman General right now!"
You heard Danny walk a few paces away, presumably to get some privacy so Marcus wouldn't overhear, before he answered.
"He'll stay downstairs, I promise. I told him what floor you're on in case of an emergency but maybe you can pop down and take him for lunch. You've been making heart eyes at this Roman General for the past three days, don't try and lie."
Anger coursed through your veins but you were running out of precious time, so you gave up.
"Fine," you seethed.
"Great!" Danny said cheerily. "But I might not be back til late. We're burning tons of time moving all this stuff, we got work to do."
"So I have to bring him home?"
"Yes, you'll have to bring him home. You're going there anyway, aren't you? What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is he's going to be bored and lonely all day down there!" you snapped.
"He's not going to be bored. He's in New York City. The elevators alone are blowing his mind right now."
Despite yourself, you smiled when you remembered how in awe he was the first time he rode in an elevator.
"Tell him I'll be down to take him to lunch in like, a little over an hour. I have a meeting at eleven."
"You're the best!" Danny said, then before you could respond, the line went dead.
You grumbled obscenities under your breath when you heard a familiar voice say your name from the opening of your cube.
"Hey, ready for the meeting?" Matt asked. You practically dropped your phone from his sudden appearance and he chuckled. "Did I scare you?"
"Yes," you hissed as you began to gather your things, trying to hide your annoyance. You looked over the top of your cubical wall, hoping and praying you would see someone - anyone - else to walk with to the conference room, but you were shit out of luck.
"Doing anything fun tonight?" he inevitably asked, like he always did, and you sighed. You made the mistake of hooking up with him after one particularly rowdy work happy hour and ever since then, Matt's been waiting for his next opportunity. "I know a guy who works at that new French restaurant, I can get us a reservation and then, who knows..."
"I have a friend in from out of town," was all you said. No matter how many times you turned him down, he remained persistent.
"That's cool. Girls night, then?"
"My friend's a guy," you quickly corrected him.
Matt stumbled over his feet as you reached the conference room. It was the biggest one on your floor, directly across from the elevator banks. The entire wall was made of glass, floor to ceiling, so you could see through the room to the opposite wall, where there was a fantastic view of the city.
"Oh, like a cousin, or..."
"Nope," you replied, voice clipped so he knew the topic was closed. With a frustrated huff, Matt plopped down next to you and flipped open his portfolio. You gave him a sideways glance, momentarily feeling bad for him. He was by all accounts a good looking guy. He wrote a column for the men's health section and based on his physique, you assumed he practiced what he preached, but sadly his looks is where his good qualities came to an end.
Charlotte, your editor, breezed into the room, her presence enough to make everyone sitting at the long table quiet right down. She ghosted her palm over her perfectly coiffed grey hair and sat her portfolio down in front of her chair at the head of the table. As you got yourself organized, your mind scrambling to come up with a lie about a long distance relationship source, Charlotte placed her phone down delicately next to her leather portfolio, then slowly uncapped the expensive looking pen someone once told you was gifted to her by Marc Jacobs. Everybody watched and waited until she was ready, which was signified by a dainty clearing of her throat and a quick, sweeping glance over the table followed by a curt nod. At that point, the usual routine began.
Without having to be asked, one by one everybody took their turn presenting their idea for the month. Each person's name was listed on the agenda in the order Charlotte wished, and mercifully yours was dead last.
Your anxiety began to spike when Sara, the girl who was before you in nutrition started to wrap up her brief speech about some gluten free lifestyle benefit bullshit.
Keep it short. Keep it vague, and you'll figure it out later. Everyone wants to leave, it's almost lunch.
Then some movement by the elevators caught your eye. Your breathing ceased and you broke out into a cold sweat when you saw Marcus had stepped out of the elevator and was fucking talking to the receptionist. Then you locked eyes when they both turned to look towards the conference room.
"Shit," you whispered.
Matt nudged your ribs and you startled, glancing around the room to see Sara had sat down and half the table was staring at you, waiting for you to begin. You shakily stood up and swallowed the lump in your throat when Marcus began to weave his way towards you through the maze of cubicles.
Call it a stroke of genius or divine inspiration, but an incredible idea hit you right as you opened your mouth to speak. You had about half a second to decide if you should wing it and trust your gut or talk out of your ass about your first idea.
Fuck it.
"This month, I have a very interesting idea that I'm super excited about exploring," you began, watching when Marcus came to a stop outside the glass door. He looked back and forth, his fingers twitching at his sides. "My topic will be Romance without Technology," you announced with a confident smile. "I'll be researching how adults navigate their love lives without the help of dating apps, social media, or even texting," you said, listing each item on your finger as you spoke.
"Who's that guy?" Sara asked, pointing towards the door. It was at that point you realized most of the table was gawking at the tall, broad, handsome looking Roman General waiting to get your attention.
You smiled and walked toward the door with your arm outstretched.
"This is Marcus," you said, holding the door open and ushering him inside. He murmured your name but you cut him off. "He's the subject I'll be interviewing for this month's article. He doesn't use technology of any kind. In fact, he doesn't even own a cell phone."
The entire room gasped and Marcus looked around, confused, but understood what you needed him to do. He raised one arm up to greet the room and said, "Good morning."
Most of the women began to whisper excitedly to one another, shooting him looks and giggling behind their hands until Charlotte cleared her throat and once again, the room fell into silence.
You chewed your lower lip anxiously as you waited for Charlotte to silently appraise you both. Finally, you saw the corner of her mouth twitch and she gave you a barely perceptible nod.
"I look forward to reading it."
She stood abruptly and collected her things, signifying the end of the meeting, and relief flooded your veins.
"Are you okay?" you asked Marcus, pulling him to the side while the room stood and slowly filtered out. He nodded.
"Yes. There were many vehicles that passed by with bright lights and loud sirens. When I asked what it was for, I was told there was an emergency."
You giggled and shook your head. "So the fearsome General was scared?"
His brows knitted together for a moment before he answered.
"No. I grew concerned for your well being."
Your heart could have melted on the spot.
"Oh," you said softly, and just like that, the annoying little flutter in your chest was back. "I-I'm fine, but thank you. That was... that's really sweet, actually."
He grinned as his eyes swooped down your frame, causing butterflies to awaken in your stomach.
"Did you wanna get something to eat?" you asked as you stared up at him, his large frame making you feel so tiny in comparison. "It'll be on the company's dime since I kinda just signed you up to be the subject of my next article."
He cocked an eyebrow at you and shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis, the action bringing up the memory of you measuring his inseam and you felt your face begin to heat up. God, you must have looked ridiculous, standing there in front of Marcus in the middle of your office, looking up at him with big doe eyes.
"Of course," he replied, "but what do you intend to write about me?"
You grinned and hurried back to your abandoned chair, scooping up your things before pointing to the door.
"Let me drop this stuff off at my desk and I'll explain everything."
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"My marriage was arranged," he reminded you from across the table draped in white linen. You decided to take him to a nicer steakhouse not too far from your office, one that didn't enforce a dress code but still had good food that you rarely sprung for out of your own pocket.
"I know, but I'm sure you can still give me an idea of what romance was like," you replied. "For example, did you get her any gifts? Give flowers? Take her to places that were meaningful to you? Or to her?"
Marcus dropped his gaze to the table and shrugged. "We knew each other for such a short period of time, there was unfortunately not much in the way of romance."
You clocked the forlorn look in his eye and began to feel guilty for bringing it up. "I'm sorry. I'll just make something up, don't worry about it. No one'll know."
"No, no, I wish to help," he said quickly, his hand stretching across the table to loop two of his fingers around yours. "Just because I do not have many personal stories to share does not mean I cannot help with your research."
"I don't want to reopen any old wounds," you explained, your eyes fixed on the way his hand linked with yours so naturally on the tabletop.
He chuckled softly, his smile causing his deep brown eyes to sparkle and a dimple to appear on his cheek.
"It was a very long time ago."
When your salads arrived at your table, Marcus released your hand to pick up his fork, frowning down at the bowl before asking, "This is the salad named after Julius Caesar?"
You giggled and shook your head, the sound causing him to lift his chin with a warm smile.
"No," you said once you collected yourself, "No, it's named after another Caesar. The guy who created it, I think."
Marcus didn't seem to mind he was wrong or that you found his error so funny. In fact, he enjoyed it.
"You have a beautiful laugh."
Instantly, your cheeks flushed and you shyly looked down to focus on your salad. "Thank you," you said softly.
He watched you silently for another minute more, admiring the way your eyes fluttered shut when you tasted something good or tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, then took a hesitant bite of his salad.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you grinned from behind your napkin.
"Delicious."
You giggled again and nodded. "Yes, it is."
Once your salads were taken away and before your main course arrived, you pulled out a notebook and flipped to a blank page.
"Let's start from the beginning. You don't have to go into excruciating detail. Maybe just some things you know of that others did to... court women? Is that even the right word?" you mumbled the last part to yourself as you scribbled something at the top of your paper.
"It was seen as a sign of weakness for a man to become infatuated with a woman," he said, and you looked up at him in surprise.
"Why's that?"
"Marriages rarely were based on affection. They were viewed as a way to improve your social standing, but it was mutually beneficial," he explained, his finger tracing the design engrained in his fork. "Women were taken care of, looked after and tended to while the men were able to claim a high ranking senator or nobleman as their family. And, of course..." he trailed off, his cheeks staining pink when he dropped his gaze to the table and said, "received the traditional benefits of having a wife."
You smirked to yourself as you wrote notes on your pad of paper.
"Thought you were used to talking about sex openly," you teased. He cleared his throat and your pen paused over your paper to meet his eye.
"I admit, at times I feel nervous around you."
"Me?" you balked, but he just nodded and your brain scrambled for something to say that wouldn't entirely embarrass you. You landed on deflection.
"I thought it was a sign of weakness to grow infatuated?"
He grinned and leaned back in his chair. "I never said I agreed with that line of thought."
"No, I suppose you didn't," you said, shyly dropping your eyes to your paper. His gaze was too intense. Every time you looked at him it felt like he could see right through you. "So, tell me. Hypothetically. If we lived in Rome and I caught your eye, what would you do? How would you win me over?"
Marcus took a deep breath, his broad shoulders relaxing as he thought about your question for a moment, staring at your pen hovering over your paper.
"I would write you letters every day," he said softly, forcing your eyes back onto him. His voice was low and deep, smooth yet firm as he spoke. "I would write of your beauty. I would compare the color of your eyes to the flowers and fauna that grew in my garden, delicate and all encompassing. I would tell you how food tastes better on my tongue when you are around, and how I ache for you when you are not near. I would try to explain how difficult it is to breathe without you, and how I would gladly die a thousand deaths just to feel the softness of your lips against mine."
You stared at him, hand frozen where you left it resting on your notebook. He waited patiently until you finally blinked yourself out of your stupor and inhaled a shaky breath.
"Uh, s-so love letters, then," you stammered, shakily scribbling down something incoherent on your paper. Jesus fucking Christ, get it together.
"Yes. Love letters," he repeated. He sounded so cool and collected. How was he so relaxed? A moment ago, he was admitting you made him nervous. Maybe he was just better at hiding it than you.
Your server arrived and placed your food down in front of you, the heavenly scent wafting up and making your mouth water. Placing your pen down in favor of picking up your fork and knife, you asked, "Have you ever had steak?"
"I am not sure. What animal is it?" he asked, picking up his fork and testing the tenderness of his steak by giving it a little poke.
"It's cow. Try it, it's good."
"Cows were used for farming," he said before slicing a piece off and examining it closely. "We could not afford to slaughter them."
You watched as he popped a bite into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully before giving you a smile and nod.
"Good?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat at finding another food he liked.
"Very," he replied once he swallowed. "You are quite perceptive and have good taste."
"Thank you," you answered, taking another bite and trying not to preen too much from the praise.
"So tell me," he said after he finished up his filet and moved on to his potato, which he eyed wearily. "Do you not receive love letters as a form of courtship?"
"Uh, no," you replied with a laugh. "Closest thing to that nowadays would be a text and even those are... sub par."
"So what is it that you do?"
"What do you mean?"
He pointed to your notepad with his fork. "For romance. What activities do you take part in?"
"Oh," you said, wiping your mouth and pushing your empty plate to the side. "You mean dates. Uh, this actually. Get dinner together. Sometimes see a movie," you paused and rethought your word choice when you saw his face. "A show, or a play. Um, sometimes go to a bar. Stuff like that."
He nodded and let your answer roll around in his head for a moment before asking, "So, is this a date?"
Marcus smiled when he saw you become flustered. You thanked the server for clearing your plates and leaving the bill before responding.
"Uh, I don't know," you finally said shyly, making his smile grow even wider. "Do you want - I mean, well... I'm technically working, but, you know, if - if that was something you were interested in, then, I guess w-we could classify this, or, you know, it could be construed-"
"Yes or no," he said, interrupting your insane ramblings with a soft look and an outstretched hand. Your face was hot with embarrassment but you reached out for his hand, anyway.
"Yes."
"Yes," he repeated, squeezing your fingers. You grinned and nodded, your stomach doing cartwheels as you tried to steady your breath.
Once you paid with your corporate credit card, you walked back out to the street, Marcus holding the doors open for you before offering you his hand. You sheepishly accepted it and walked a few paces in the direction of your office before he stopped you.
"Must you return to work?"
You gave him a sad smile and took a step closer. "Yeah, I'm sorry. But maybe I can play hooky tomorrow."
Marcus raised a curious eyebrow at you while playing with the material of your dress with his free hand, gently pinching and feeling the fabric between his fingers. "What does-"
"It means I'll call in sick without actually being sick so I can have the day off," you explained without him needing to finish asking.
He grinned and dropped your dress in favor of cupping your cheek. "I would like that very much."
"Me, too," you said, gazing up at him while leaning into his touch. His strong, calloused hand felt rough against your skin, but you liked it. As if reading your mind, he stroked his thumb over your cheekbone and murmured, "You are so soft."
You hummed, not trusting yourself to speak when you watched him slowly lean down to your level, your eyes fluttering shut as you waited to feel his mouth against yours. But just when his shadow got close enough to block the sun behind your eyelids, you heard someone shout your name.
You swiveled around angrily, your hand still laced together with Marcus's as you looked for the person who interrupted one of the more romantic moments of your life.
And then you saw Matt stalking up to you from the direction of the restaurant.
"Is this why you've been ghosting me?"
You frowned and tilted your head. "What?"
Matt came to a stop in front of you both and jutted his chin towards Marcus. "Too busy sleeping with your profiles to hang out?"
"W-what?" you stammered again, too shocked to fight back with your usual vigor. You felt Marcus stiffen next to you. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he immediately sensed your discomfort. "I'm not - this isn't-"
"Oh, sure," he sneered, crossing his arms, his biceps bulging out of his thin dress shirt. "I saw you two in there. You were three seconds away from crawling into his lap."
Your mouth hung open in shock and humiliation. "Were you following me?"
Before Matt could answer, Marcus took a step forward.
"I am going to have to insist you stop yelling," he seethed, and even though Matt followed his own advice in his articles and worked out plenty, Marcus still towered over him.
Matt's eyes went wide for just a moment before his bravado returned. "C'mon, man. She's just using you, don't you see that?" Matt prodded, then he scoffed. "Unless you're good with it. Then by all means, have fun. She's a good fuck but I don't think she's got much else."
It all happened so fast, you couldn't remember Marcus dropping your hand and cocking his fist. You couldn't remember the first sickening crunch of his knuckles against Matt's nose, but you did remember hearing his pained howl.
Marcus only landed a few more blows before you came to your senses and tugged him by the shoulder. It was laughable to think you would be strong enough to move him, but you must have also said something because Marcus immediately stopped and turned back to you.
"Jesus Christ!" you cried shakily, hands trembling as they hovered in the air. You weren't sure what to do and people were staring as they walked by, driving up your anxiety. Marcus was fine except for his skinned knuckles, but Matt was much worse. He had a busted lip and already a bright blue shiner forming on his cheekbone, and when he stood to face you both, you noticed another cut on the other cheek.
"The fuck is wrong with you!" he spat, blood dripping down his chin.
"Mind how you speak to women and perhaps they will wish to spare you their time," Marcus snarled. Matt turned his attention to you, the pad of his thumb swiping against his lower lip.
"Who is this guy? What the fuck is his deal?"
You took a deep breath, your mind settling and your fortitude returning.
"If you had just backed off when I said no the first dozen times, maybe you didn't have to find out!"
"Oh, come off it. You like the chase. You get off on guys trailing after you-"
"You're the only fucking one, Matt!" you yelled, no longer caring who was looking. "We hooked up once, years ago, and you just can't take the hint! I'm not interested!"
His eyes clouded with disbelief as he propped his hands on his hips and shifted his weight to one foot, standing there as if he were somehow new to being shot down.
"I'm telling Charlotte about this. About your little..." he trailed off and gestured vaguely over your shoulder, "guard dog. I'm sure she will love to hear about one of your profiles assaulting an employee."
You crossed your arms defiantly and made a face. "Oh, yeah? Do that and I'll recommend to HR they give you a drug test."
His face paled for a moment but he tried to hide it. "Drugs? I'm not on drugs."
"Oh, so you're telling me your balls are just naturally that shriveled up and small? Because, shit," you laughed, "if it's not steroids, you might want to see a doctor about that. That's not normal."
Matt swallowed tightly and clamped his mouth shut. You smiled and turned around to Marcus, who had been listening to your entire argument and probably understanding less than half of it.
"Let's go."
You tugged on his arm and he obediently followed, leaving Matt to lick his wounds.
"Your work - the building is the other way."
"I know," you said, raising your arm to hail a cab. "I'll figure something out. We're going home."
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Marcus watched as you paced around your kitchen, phone pressed against your ear as you spoke to your boss and faked a sudden illness that included the word cramps. When you finished up, you looked over at him from across the room.
He looked so normal now. Sure, he spoke a little strangely but without his tunic, clad in khakis and a polo shirt, he looked like he fit right in. Like he always belonged right there.
"I don't think I even thanked you," you said. Marcus smiled and shrugged.
"No need."
He was so damn adorable, it was killing you. "I've never met anyone like you before," you confessed, leaning a hip against the edge of your counter.
"In a good way, I hope?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. You giggled and nodded, the sound making his heart soar.
"Yes, in a good way."
He brought his hand up to smooth over his mouth nervously and your stomach dropped.
"Oh, my god! Your hands!" you exclaimed, crossing the room to snatch one of his massive hands within both of yours.
"It is alright, there is no-"
"Come on, let me clean up your knuckles at least," you said, pulling him towards your tiny bathroom, which somehow felt even smaller when you were both crowding the space. "Sit here," you told him, pointing towards the closed toilet seat, "I have some stuff somewhere," you muttered under your breath as you rifled through the medicine cabinet behind your mirror, then tugged open the drawer in the vanity that always stuck. Marcus did as he was told and watched you with amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Ah ha!" you announced victoriously when you held up a bottle of clear liquid and a box of bandages. He smiled as you washed your hands before meticulously laying everything out you would need. Picking up a cotton ball, you doused it with the liquid and turned to him, having little choice but to stand between his knees and lifting one of his hands to look at it closer.
He splayed his hand out flat, palm pressing against your palm while you carefully dabbed at the dried blood.
"You have laid with that man before?" he asked out of the blue. Your cheeks felt warm when you nodded and avoided his eye.
"A long time ago. It was a mistake."
He didn't say anything else for a few minutes, just watched as you tenderly cared for his broken skin, your proximity and touch overwhelming his senses.
"Did he mistreat you?"
Quickly, you shook your head. "Oh god, no, nothing like that," you told him. "It just... wasn't a good fit."
Marcus couldn't stop staring at the soft slopes of your face and the bright sparkle in your irises, growing infatuated with the way your brow scrunched together in concentration while you worked.
"Did he not worship you?" he asked softly, watching as your breath hitched and you swallowed the lump in your throat.
"Uh, no," you finally said, setting down the cotton ball in favor of a tube with some salve. You squeezed a small dot onto your finger and began to apply it carefully to his knuckles. "Can't say there's been a lot of worshipping happening in my life," you added with a dry chuckle.
"No?"
You shook your head and wiped your finger with a tissue and tried not to let his injured hand that had fallen to your hip distract you.
"No," you whispered, your shaky voice betraying you.
He tsked and brought his other hand up to your hip, slowly splaying his fingers wide and crumpling the fabric of your dress. "Shameful. You deserve to be worshipped."
All of the air rushed from your lungs, your body thrumming with desire. Marcus noticed the fine hairs on your arms raise when goosebumps flashed across your skin and he delicately picked up your hand, flipping it over so he could press a kiss against the inside of your wrist.
His deep brown eyes met yours and with his lips still brushing against your skin, whispered, "Will you allow me to worship you?"
You found yourself nodding before your voice had a chance to catch up with you, then his hands gently cupped your face and pulled you down to his level. The moment your lips finally met, you forgot how to breathe, how to move, how to think. His lips were so unexpectedly soft and tender as they slowly massaged against your own that it sent you into a tailspin.
You pressed your mouth against his with a little more force, the fear that he may just stop at one kiss gripping your throat and driving you forward. He made a soft, surprised noise in the back of his throat when you began to kiss him with more intensity, but he didn't skip a beat. He tightened his hold on your face, fingers dimpling your cheeks and his nose bumping lightly against yours.
Your hands pressed against his chest, then your fingers curled to grip his shirt, wanting to tug him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere but you were still in your stupid fucking tiny bathroom and it was difficult to maneuver. Seemingly anticipating your next move, you felt Marcus stand. Your head tipped back, neck craned upwards at an impossible angle, refusing to break the kiss even for a moment so he began to carefully walk you backwards towards the door. Every step towards your bedroom felt like you were walking deeper and deeper into the sea, drowning in his overwhelming presence and touch.
Marcus's palm slid over your shoulder, down your arm and only stopping when he found your ribs. He wound his arm around you as you both stumbled through your doorway with as little grace as you would expect from two people growing more and more intertwined by the moment.
Once you felt your mattress pressing into the backs of your knees, you released your death grip on his shirt so you could reach behind you and unzip your dress. The cool air washed over your bare skin when it pooled around your feet and suddenly, you felt extremely exposed. What kinds of women was he used to being with? It felt like every day when you went into work you learned something new that men found desirable in women. How could you possibly be expected to keep up in the modern world, let alone with what Marcus might find appealing?
But when his palm reconnected with your middle and he felt your smooth skin under his hand, he grew desperate for more to the point where you could sense it, pushing your insecurities to the back of your mind. His injured hand left your cheek so he could glide both massive hands over the soft swell of your curves, his fingers twitching as he sought out more of your skin but when he came in contact with your bra, his hands stopped.
You could feel his hesitation by the way his lips stalled against yours so you took his hands and wrapped them around your back, wordlessly guiding him to the clasp as your tongue slid inside his mouth.
He figured out the hooks on your bra after only one or two fumbles and it dropped to the floor to join your dress.
"Fuck," he whispered when he finally managed to pull away to admire your nearly naked body. Your eyes widened with surprise.
"I don't think I've heard you curse before."
He inhaled a ragged breath, his eyes still drinking you in when he murmured, "I did not have a reason to before now."
He gently grazed over your breast, barely even touching you while he watched with fascination as your nipple tightened from the brief contact. "You have stirred something within me," he said softly, his eyes and hands continuing to roam. "Something I believed did not exist for a long time."
You leaned into his touch when he cupped your breast, enraptured with how soft you felt under his hand. Your fingers curled around the waistband of his khakis, sliding your nails across his lower stomach, across the coarse hair you very much wished to see while his mouth descended on your throat. His beard tickled the spot below your ear and it sent a shudder down your spine. His lips curved into a smile against your skin at the involuntary movement and he asked, "What else do you like?"
It was becoming difficult to breathe. The way he was so slow and careful yet sure of himself was unlike anything you had ever experienced before with a man. It was making your knees weak and your head swim.
When it took too long for you to answer his question, he lightly pinched your skin between your teeth, causing warmth to bloom just underneath the mark.
"T-touch me," you stammered, your eyes sliding closed and your head tipping back, surrendering yourself completely to his prowess.
His hand slipped down your body, over your stomach and underneath your panties. You gasped sharply when you felt one thick finger part your folds, sliding over your clit and dipping into your entrance, drenching him with your arousal.
"Lay down for me," he whispered in your ear while wrapping his free arm around your back, holding you steady so you didn't collapse from the torture of his singular finger working in and out.
He laid you down carefully in your bed, his hand never losing its rhythm and his mouth still ghosting over your neck and chest.
You whined and bucked your hips under him, fingers getting tangled in his thick curls while he whispered words of adoration into your skin, imprinting himself on you forever.
He could feel you growing rigid, your muscles tense and your exhale coming in short bursts. He brushed his lips over yours at the same time his thumb grazed over your clit, making your jaw drop and a sob erupt from your throat.
"Relax," he murmured, increasing the speed of his wrist while slowly sliding his tongue alongside yours. "Relax and let go for me, cor mea," he said against your mouth.
Your body convulsed beneath him when he brought you to your climax with just one finger. His mouth locked over yours, swallowing down your cries and allowing them to feed his ever growing desire. When you whimpered and lightly pushed his hand away, he withdrew from between your legs but continued to deepen the kiss. It was so sweet and loving that it sent you reeling, wondering how you would ever find satisfaction from another man again after Marcus.
"Take these off," you breathed, tugging on his belt loops. He reared back to sit on his heels while deftly undoing the button and zipper of his khakis, leaving them gaping open at his waist before yanking his polo shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor. You bit your lip, admiring his bare chest for the first time while he pushed his pants down and kicked them off.
"Christ," you muttered, eyes trailing over his tanned and scarred skin. You reached out and traced a particularly jagged one on his shoulder but he was more focused on ridding you of your underwear. If you ever questioned the validity of his time traveling story, any doubt was erased from your mind when you saw his body.
"Did these hurt?"
He paused and followed your gaze to his marked up torso.
"Some, at the time, yes."
Your expression softened to one of pity as you continued to scan his body, losing count of the shiny, pale scars.
"W-what... how did these..." you trailed off, unable to keep the emotion from your voice. Marcus cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss against your lips.
"It is alright. I have been in many battles. It is my job, and just like yours, I must do it."
You laughed but you didn't really find it funny. "You risk your life every day while I write about best places to take a first date or what to do if you're faking orgasms with your boyfriend. You can't compare the two."
Marcus cocked an eyebrow as he hovered above you. "And do you have much experience faking orgasms?"
You felt your face flush. You knew he was just trying to distract you, but it was working. "Some."
He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose, then each one of your eyelids before asking, "But not a moment ago?"
You shook your head and raked your fingers through his hair, making him growl at the sensation of your nails across his scalp. While he focused on positioning himself at your opening, you dragged your mouth over his shoulder, tongue dipping to trace over his scar. You couldn't do anything about them now except show them love, something you were realizing Marcus was desperately lacking in his life back home.
Home. The thought entered your brain right when he first pushed inside you, stealing the air from your lungs and bringing tears to your eyes. You did your best to brush it aside and focus on the present, like the way he stretched you open or the soft noise he made when he fully sheathed his heavy length deep within you.
"Fuck," you gasped, clawing at his shoulders while you tried to get your bearings.
He released a groan so guttural and deep it had you squeezing around him. Your mouth found a home on his neck as he slowly began to rock his hips, your lips and teeth leaving temporary marks over his skin to join the scars. Every kiss was slow, every touch was attentive and it was hard to stop yourself from giving into him.
"You - oh," he moaned, eyes sliding shut as he lost himself in the moment. It might have been the first time you'd seen him ever falter, and the thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. "You are so soft and beautiful," he mumbled before finding your mouth once again and plunging his tongue past your teeth. "I fear it is almost too much for me to bear," he confessed between kisses.
Marcus was unlike any man you had ever met in so many ways. His vulnerability staggered you. Most men you had known would consider it weak or embarrassing to speak the way he spoke, but Marcus managed to do it without sacrificing an ounce of his raw masculinity.
His broad shoulders and thick arms caged you in, giving you a feeling of safety and security you never felt before with another person. It was always you who had to be strong, who had to figure everything out and be responsible. And for once, with Marcus, it felt like you could let go and not have to worry.
Your body relaxed beneath him, legs spreading even wider to accommodate his powerful thrusts. He pulled an arm out from underneath you to press down on your thigh, pushing it into the mattress next to you in order to open your hips up even more. Then he leaned up just a fraction so he could grind his hips against you with his new found space, drawing a shaky moan from your throat when he came in contact with your clit.
Marcus paid attention. He took note of what you liked, what made you writhe and gasp and he teased you with it until you were begging him for more. He couldn't deny you, so he gave you what you asked. When you whined for him to go faster, he did. When you begged him to touch you, he did. He gave you everything you asked for until your legs trembled and your breath quickened and you were tossing your head back into your pillow, his name on your lips as you fell apart for him.
Then you gazed up at him, eyes smoldering, your lips swollen and parted and looking more beautiful and satisfied than he ever could imagine. Pulling him down to you by the back of his neck, you whispered his name in his ear and he shuddered, his hips faltering for a moment all because of one simple word from your lips.
"Marcus," you whispered again, mouth sucking a bruise into his neck. "Are you going to come for me?"
"Yes," he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he neared his peak. A lazy smile spread across your face, body still flooding with pleasure as he fucked you a little harder seeking his own.
His hand fell to your side, pulling you closer, rolling your hips in rhythm with his, and with his teeth bared and eyes flashing with hunger, he came with a broken groan that sent a shiver down your spine. You gasped at the feeling of him emptying himself inside you, eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy. His mouth crashed over yours with your eyes still closed. Your tongues danced together, first with lust, then once your heart rates slowed and your skin stopped tingling, with something more. Something like longing and desperation to hold onto the moment as long as you possibly could.
You both spent a little too long sharing tender kisses and gentle touches. For once, the world around you ceased to make noise and the only thing that mattered was what to order for dinner so you didn't have to leave your bed the rest of the night. You picked Mediterranean food and spent the hour after it was delivered discussing how it compared to the food he was used to, neither of you daring to mention the elephant in the room.
You curled up into his side, his arm draped around you, his back leaning against your headboard as you watched a romantic comedy together. Just as you were explaining the plot and how you had used the movie as inspiration for an article the year prior, a breakthrough was happening in Queens.
The volume on your phone was off and neither of you were paying attention to it lighting up on your nightstand, too busy ignoring the movie in favor of fusing your lips together again with your limbs slowly tangling together under the covers to notice the text come through.
Danny: staying in Queens for the night, we're on a roll. The mighty General shall be out of your hair b4 you know it.
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alrightieaphroditie · 4 months
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wipe my tears away | j.m.
*:·゚✧ series masterlist | previous part!
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pairing *:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·゚6.6k  warnings *:·゚18+! minors please do not interact!! talk of period pain, hormonal emotions, crying, kissing, some manhandling (if you squint), sad attempt at dirty talk, period play (lightly), fingering, maybe some degradation (not really sure), clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f receiving), squirting/messy cum, p in v penetration (not protected, do better!), one mention of blood… please let me know if i’m missing any major ones!  an *:·゚this is for the girlies who get over emotional during their periods (they are me, i am them). this is a bit longer than intended, but once i got in the zone i literally couldn’t stop, so i hope y’all will enjoy it! kind of unedited, so if anything major jumps out feel free to comment lol. i also wrote this with correct capitalization, where all my previous fics were lowercase bc i couldn’t be bothered to turn on auto caps, so let me know if y’all prefer this format!  check the series masterlist for the series tags!
synopsis *:·゚ joel comes home to find you laying in bed, crying because of period pain. he may not be a full gentleman, but he wouldn’t let you suffer when he has a trick up his sleeve to help sooth the cramps. 
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The pain that begins in your lower abdomen, the feeling that radiates throughout the rest of your lower body with enough force to make you wince, isn’t entirely new. It’s a monthly occurrence, actually. One that you feel like you should be used to by now, considering it’s plagued you for more than half your life. 
But the outbreak had already happened when you first got your period as a teen, and for a while, your body wasn’t receiving the nutrients it needed to sustain that kind of function. It was a double-edged sword, the way you were appreciative that you haven’t had it this bad your entire life, while ruminating on the losses that occurred due to the infection. 
Because it was a different story, now. 
Now, you were eating more than you could ever remember before. Jackson was a thriving community, after all. And you were beyond blessed that you were one of the lucky ones who got to reside within its gates. Now, your body was properly fed and being taken care of for the first time in years, and that double-edged sword reared in your mind again; thankful for the safe space you’ve landed upon, but God, at what cost? Your period pain took you out for days each month, making you feel like a burden even though you physically couldn’t help it. 
Your toe stubbed against a chair in your living room as another cramp worked its way through your body, causing you to cry out for more than one reason. Tears filled your waterline, and a heavy sigh escaped past your lips. The rough material of your jeans was digging into your waistline, your hair felt heavy against your neck and each strand that brushed against your cheek made you want to cut it off, and you just felt so useless. Some logical part of your brain realized this wasn’t really you feeling this way, it was just the hormonal shift, but that didn’t provide any sense of comfort as the tears continued to glide down your face. 
In some ways, you were lucky, as today had been your day off from helping around Jackson. Otherwise, that sense of being a burden to everyone would’ve increased tenfold. You couldn't stop feeling like a burden to yourself, though. You had made a perfectly organized to-do list that was hanging on your fridge of things you wanted to tackle today. 
Your sheets needed to be washed. The floors needed to be swept and mopped, especially after the rain, as Joel and Ellie continued to trek mud through your house by accident. Maria had given you some of the spices that grew in abundance, and you wanted to make one of those simmer pots on the stove that she kept mentioning. 
But doing those chores was the last thing on your mind right now, as another cramp racked its way through your body. Now, you just wanted to go lay in bed wearing nothing but Joel's shirt that you had thrown on earlier and cry while hugging a pillow.
 And so, that’s what you did. 
Your vision was watery as your fingers swiftly worked to unbutton your pants, your feet carrying you out of the living room and into your bedroom before you really even realized what you were doing. Once you hit your bedside, you tugged the jeans down your legs, letting them pool at your feet and leaving them on the ground as you crawl into bed, feeling about as pathetic as you probably looked. Curling up on your side, you reach out blindly and grab onto Joel's pillow, tucking it against your body and letting it provide you a false sense of comfort. After that, the tears start flowing freely. 
You didn’t know how long you laid there, didn’t know how long the sound of your sniffles had filled the room or how long you pressed the pillow against your abdomen. The cramps were still relentless, and it wasn’t like you even had any medicine you could take; expired Tylenol did absolutely nothing anymore. You wish you were more used to this feeling, this pain. But it seemed like the longer you were at Jackson, the worse the symptoms became each month. You had yet to figure out the remedies that were foolproof for this feeling. 
Continuous tears turned into lonely, stray droplets as you held onto the pillow. The room was silent except for the occasional sniff. You had zeroed in on an undone thread on the pillowcase, not paying attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being pushed open, or the sound of Joel's work boots stomping across the wooden floors. In the corners of your mind, you recognized the voice that was muttering to himself outside your room, but your eyes stayed focused on that singular thread. 
The thought of it being lonely, being apart from the other threads holding the fabric together, made your eyes water again. You could put yourself in its position, the ever present fear of being alone daunting you even now, and that was enough to send the tears over your waterline, racing down your cheeks and onto the pillow once again. The hiccup that came from your inhale was the noise that had the footfalls move towards your room, and through your blurry vision you saw the outline of Joel standing in the doorway. 
“What's wrong?” Through your sniffles, you could sense his urgency, his rough voice filled with nothing but concern, and maybe a little worry. His gaze swept over your body, checking for any possible injury. This was the first time he’d seen you break down to this level, and the sight of you curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down your face with his pillow in your grasp… he prayed to God that another person wasn’t involved with making you feel this way.
It would be a shame to lose his good reputation amongst Jackson because he had to beat some fucker up. 
Your gaze swung up to his face, and you made yourself blink harshly to expel the lingering tears. His face came into focus, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more clear to compliment the frown on his full lips. He had a spot of dirt streaking across his forehead, and his clothes were dirty from spending the day working outside. For whatever reason, the fact that Joel had been out working in the heat for most of the day while you couldn’t even manage to get up and wash your bedsheets made your emotions spiral even more. What is wrong with me? you wondered, hugging the pillow tighter to your body. 
The sound of his work bag hitting the floor echoed through the room, soon followed by the shuffle of his boots being kicked off his feet. His hands were gently pulling the pillow away before you could even register that he was in front of you now, but you felt the bed dip under his weight as he perched himself at the edge. His broad hand rested on your elbow before sliding up your arm, gently caressing your skin until he reached the side of your face. The calluses on his thumb scratched against your skin as he swiped the digit under your eye, wiping away the tears that had pooled. 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice was softer this time, comforting you in a way that had you feeling alright for the first time today. You leaned up on your elbows, and Joel helped guide you into a sitting position across from him, your hands holding on to one of his while his other cupped your face, thumb swiping against skin. The action of sitting up had your cramps rearing their ugly heads again, and your wince was subtle but extremely obvious to Joel, evident by the furrowing of his eyebrows. 
“My uterus is what’s wrong,” the scratchiness of your throat had you coughing slightly, and you worked to clear it before trying again, voice nearly as weak as you felt. “I'm on my period.” Joel's eyes widened in surprise at your admission, but he quickly schooled his features.
This wasn’t his first rodeo; he’d been with you for awhile now, but noticed that each month your symptoms were different. Sometimes, your sudden anger at everything gave away the fact that it was that time of the month. Other times, it was your sweet tooth and your cravings that gave it away. Rarely was it your tears, though, and his heart lurched at this new response. 
When your hands went to wrap around your stomach, applying pressure lightly to help ease the throbbing, his free hand came up to the other side of your face. “‘m sorry, darlin. Know that ain’t the best feeling in the world,” his thumbs were doing a stand up job at wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and soon the only sign that you had been crying was the red glaze surrounding your pupils. 
And the occasional sniffle. 
You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the surprising amount of comfort that you felt from a pair of hands. You always felt at peace with Joel, though, so you weren’t surprised that his hands had this effect on you. You focused on the rough pads of his skin against the smooth texture of your own, taking in big breaths of air through your nose as your crying spell passed through you. Now you were thinking a little more clearly and felt a little embarrassed by the fact that Joel had walked in on you crying over a thread on a pillow case. Not that he’d ever know that’s what you were crying about. 
“It's okay. I'm sorry if i scared you or anything,” you started, opening your eyes to meet Joel's dark gaze. You offered him a small smile. “I really just need to learn how to deal with these cramps without them taking over my day. They seem to be getting worse and worse each month.” Your hands trailed up to grip his forearms, squeezing them affectionately as a wave of exhaustion flitted through your body. 
Joel's eyes squinted slightly. “Cramps, huh?” he mused, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. In the far corner of his mind, he recalled a younger Tommy swearing by a foolproof activity that helped one of his girlfriends with her cramps when medicine didn’t cut it. He wasn’t sure he believed Tommy then, or even now, for that matter. But he knew how much you struggled with the pain, and he’d feel like a real jerk if he didn’t at least give this a go. 
“Think I know somethin’ that could help with that.” He pulled your head forward, pressing a chaste kiss on top of your forehead before dropping his hands and pushing off of the bed. You were slightly dazed, partly at the display of affection but also at the quickness in which Joel was walking to the bathroom. When he came back into the room with an old towel, you couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously. 
“Joel…”
“Do you trust me?” He asked, tossing the towel on the bed and leaning down to look at you, eye to eye. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes shined with a hint of mischievousness, and the smirk on his mouth was nothing but trouble. It made him look younger, almost. Like the gray in his beard and around the temples of his hair was there prematurely. You wondered if he was like that more before the outbreak, and you reveled in this glimpse of his past self that he was allowing you to see. 
“Of course I do.” Your answer was absolute, eyes showing no signs of distrust or wariness as you maintained contact with Joel’s. He reveled in the sureness of your answer, in the fact that it didn’t even take you more than a second to respond to his question. The smirk became a full blown grin, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face as you wondered what the heck this man was thinking. 
“Good. In that case, I'm gonna go clean myself up,” his lips pressed against yours in a swift kiss before he backed away, fingers stretching to the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna strip out of those panties, spread that towel out underneath you, and wait for me to come back. Okay?” One of his eyebrows notched up, awaiting your response. 
“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased, sending him off with a mocking salute. It earned you an eye roll, something he had been picking up more and more from Ellie's influence, no doubt. The sound of your giggle followed him into the bathroom, where he quickly worked to discard his dirty clothes and rinse off. The thought of you laying in bed with just his t-shirt on had him adjusting himself underneath the water stream. 
Meanwhile, you were working at a slower pace. 
You gingerly took the threadbare towel between your hands, kneeling up on your knees to place it where you thought would work best. You were starting to get an idea of what Joel was planning, and while you’ve never done anything like this before, you weren’t absolutely hating it. After you had smoothed the fabric out, you climbed back against the pillows, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down. The pad on the inside showed slight signs of blood, so at least you weren’t bleeding too heavily right now. Usually that came after a day or two of the cramps. 
You were combing your fingers through your hair when Joel walked back into the room, pausing at the threshold while you both took each other in. His hair was damp, droplets of water occasionally dripping on his forehead, brushed back at the edges and the tops to keep it out of his face. He had been growing it out a little longer, though you knew when summer fully came around, it’d be time to clip it. 
He’d changed out of a plain, gray t-shirt into another plain, gray t-shirt - clearly a staple in his wardrobe - and you had to admire the way he was filling it out. The sleeves hugged the middle of his biceps, straining against the pure muscle that had been building up. The shirt fit loose around his chest, but you could see the way it was snug around his tummy area, the small pouch of his stomach highlighted by the thin material. 
You weren’t the only one who had been eating better since arriving at Jackson; Joel was starting to bulk up and you were loving it. 
Having ended his workday earlier, and foreseeing spending the rest of the day in bed with you, he had pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants that clung to his thighs and offered very little to the imagination when it came to the thick imprint between his legs. The sight of him had your thighs clenching together automatically, heat racing through your body like a fever. 
And he knew it, too. You could tell by the smirk on his lips, the way his gaze strayed from your eyes to your legs. He loved having that affect on you, loved seeing how needy you became by just the thought of being with him. 
He walked to the other side of the bed, his eyes focused solely on you in his red shirt, the way your legs were crossed at the bottom, giving him just the smallest peak of bare skin underneath. You listen to him so well, he couldn’t help but admire. You gave him your trust so easily, and that was one of the few things that Joel considered to be precious in this world. He'd never make you regret that choice. 
Leaning up on your elbows, your body naturally turned towards him when he finally settled himself on his side next to you. One of his arms slipped behind your head, tucking you into his body as the other came up to guide your face to his. His lips were soft against your own, and all the tension you had felt from crying earlier completely disappeared. 
Your hands clung to his arm as he kissed you, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. Joel took the opening to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip before dipping it into your mouth. Your mind was growing fuzzy, and you simply let Joel manipulate you how he wanted, eagerly offering yourself to him. 
His mouth stayed on yours, your noses brushing against each other with every tilt of the head, but his hand strayed from your cheek. It paved a path to the collar of the t-shirt, where he fisted the material and tugged it towards himself, halfway pulling you on top of him with the movement. Your hands flung out to his chest to stop yourself from completely crashing into him, and a groan sounded against your mouth as Joel felt the tips of your fingers dig into the skin. 
He soon abandoned the collar, letting his palm slide down the expanse of your torso and bunching the shirt up a little before settling it right over your lower abdomen, fingers splayed out wide against your bare skin. The heat radiating from his palm on your skin was like your own personal heating pad; the soreness that ebbed from your cramps seemed to dissipate the longer his hand rested against your skin, the action making your head spin as you focused on breathing through your nose as Joel’s tongue traced along yours. 
Joel’s mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, down to your neck. The stubble growing on his face scratched at your skin when he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, causing a combination of a laugh and a moan to flutter past your lips. You could feel him smile against your skin before nipping at it gently, using his lips and tongue to ebb the slight pain away. You could feel him sucking at your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d regret the red and purple marks that would litter your skin, but right now, the feeling was absolute heaven. 
“Spread those legs for me, baby.” The words were whispered against your skin, accompanied by a quick tap to your thighs. You didn’t hesitate to obey; your left leg fell to the side while you rested your right leg on top of Joel's. His hand slipped from your stomach to your upper thigh, gripping the fleshy inside as he helped adjust it higher on his body. 
The cool air from the fan had you shivering as it made contact with your bare skin, emphasizing the wet slick that had formed between your legs. Joel's mouth found itself back on yours, his kiss turning punishing, almost, as his hand slowly moved down your inner thigh; his teeth were biting and pulling at your lower lip, his fingers were digging into your skin as he kneaded and gripped your thigh. 
“Joel,” you mewled, stretching up slightly to angle your hips closer to his hand. You were settled in the crook of his elbow, and his arm came up to bare against your throat ever so slightly. He essentially had you in a headlock, and you were helpless to anything he administered. Goosebumps prickled along your skin, and you whined once more when his fingers brushed against the crease of your leg. 
“Shh, s’okay, baby. Let me take care of you,” his words were soothing, soft. A complete contrast to the way he was handling your body, and it was all you could do but nod in response, eyes wide and trusting as they held contact with him. His pupils were so dilated that you could barely see the rim of brown, even this close. 
Another sharp tap to your inner thigh had you gasping, and Joel's mouth formed into a smirk as his calloused fingers eased the spot. You’d like to blame the hormones fluttering around your body for the desperation you were feeling for Joel, but part of you knew that he simply just had this affect on you. You always grew so needy for his attention, for his touch. Being with him was the only time your brain truly shut off and allowed you to feel safe, relaxed. 
His fingertips were stroking the inside of your thigh like it was the strings on one of his guitars, a slow but firm sensation that had you humming; he was playing a different kind of instrument with you. You could feel yourself growing slicker, the bubble in your chest expanding as he teased you, touched you. 
“Joel, please…” you trailed off, turning your head to the side and bumping the edge of his jaw with your nose. His gaze had slipped to where his fingers were caressing your skin, basking in the suppleness of your skin that so vastly compared to the roughness of his. You felt like a dream. 
“Such pretty manners,.” he mocked, grinning to himself before meeting your eyes once more. “Since you asked nicely, though…” The kiss he pressed on your nose was soft, but your focus was on how his fingers were finally crossing over the crease in your thigh, finally trailing down to your core. 
The first swipe of his fingers through your folds had a small moan emit from your mouth, and a curse came from Joel’s as he felt how wet you were already. “Shit, baby,” he muttered to himself more than anything, watching his fingers as he lifted them up into the light to see the shine. Chest heaving, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, watched as he placed them on his tongue before closing his lips around the digits and sucking on them while he pulled them out. 
His fingers were now wet with his spit, evident by the thin strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to his fingers. The sight alone had your toes curling against the mattress, your mouth open slightly as you watched him bring his hand back down to your pussy. Your breath left you as his second swipe was firmer, the tips of his fingers passing along your clit for a brief moment before moving back down. 
His forearm flexed slightly against your neck, his free hand moving down to brush against the top of your chest. One of your hands moved to grip his arm, nails digging into skin ever so slightly as Joel’s fingers brushed your entrance, swirling around slightly to gather the wetness that had formed. A soft sigh left his mouth as he felt you, and the next moment, two of his fingers were swiftly pushing inside of you. 
“Joel!” You gasped out, back arching into his touch as he pumped his fingers into you once, twice, three times before pulling them out. Joel huffed out a laugh at your whine from the loss of contact, glancing down at you to see your reaction to him circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with the softest of sighs, and the sight of your eyes rolling shut while your mouth parted open. 
He didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, his mouth against yours as firm as his thumb on your clit. The kiss was quick, and Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Such a pretty girl, achin’ for me to fill you up. My fingers feel real nice against your pussy now, don't they, baby?” 
A short and snappy nod was your form of a response, as you were solely focused on the way Joel’s middle finger was circling your clit now. Your hips bucked up as waves of pleasure wracked your body, Joel’s expert fingers bringing you relief you so desperately needed. The action had Joel smirking above you, had his hips grinding slightly against your thigh in a sad attempt at getting some friction for his now hard cock. 
Joel pulled back from his admissions on your clit, sliding his middle finger through the center of you before slowly inserting it back inside you. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears, and he began moving it in and out, curling it up once it was fully inside your wet pussy. Head falling back against Joel’s arm, your legs widening even further as Joel picked up a steady rhythm with his one finger. 
“So good, Joel,” you rasped, voice breathless as Joel’s finger curled against the spongy part inside of you that had your body jerking in response. Licking your lips, you pulled the bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking in as the pleasure continued to build up in your body. Your right hand moved to rest on his wrist, while the other stayed gripping his left forearm. 
Basking in your praise, Joel withdrew his middle finger and, when he pumped it back inside, added his ring finger. The addition had you groaning, feeling his two fingers stretch you out slowly as he pushed them inside and pulled them out. You felt Joel’s lips press against your forehead as he worked to pick up the pace, and soon all that could be heard in the room was the wet sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers. 
“God, I could listen to you all night,” he mumbled, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion inside you and marveling at how drenched you sounded. “So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Haven’t even taken my cock yet, either, you needy thing.” 
His words only sparked the fire inside your chest even more, and soon you were moaning his name over and over again in some kind of sick prayer as he filled you with his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as his thumb moved to glide against your clit, pleasure radiating throughout your body. 
Your fingers dug half-moon indentions in Joel’s tanned skin as the waves of pleasure finally crested. 
Your body went rigid in his hold as your orgasm peaked, his fingers never ceasing in motion as your hips began to shake against his hand. He muttered soft praises as you came, moving his arm from across your chest and intertwining your fingers with his. You gasped for air as you came down, thighs twitching ever so slightly as you soon became putty against Joel’s body. 
Only then did he pull his fingers out from inside of you. He kissed your forehead once more, cupping your drenched pussy with the palm of his hand. Your chest was heaving still from the orgasm, body feeling tired once more but for a completely different reason. Resting your head back on Joel’s arm, you glance up at him, expecting him to move his hand away and maybe help you clean up. 
Instead, Joel’s dark gaze was solely focused on your pussy again. Instead of moving his hand away, he slowly moved it up your center, stopping only when his middle finger brushed against your clit. He moved his hand to the side slightly, letting the tips of his other fingers brush against the sensitive nub, before sliding it the other way. His action was slow, methodical even. 
“Joel,” you ventured, squeezing his hand that rested in yours. His jaw twitched, but that was the only response you got. He leaned up on his elbow, your hand moving up along the mattress as he did so. Now, your interlaced hands rested above you, on the pillow, as Joel’s upper body hovered on top of yours. 
Ever so slowly, Joel resumed the movement of his hand, sliding to one side before moving it to the other. His fingers all brushed against your clit, and the overstimulation you felt had your thighs closing together. 
“Keep ‘em open, baby.” Joel admonished, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. His free hand pushed away your left leg before returning back to your clit, and you swore you could feel the wetness lingering on your skin from him doing so. The roughness of the towel underneath you prickled at your skin as your hips twitched from the continued pleasure. 
“Joel,” you ventured again, this time more of a plea than anything. Tears formed on your waterline when he picked up the pace, his hand firmly rubbing against your clit each time he moved it. That bubble of pleasure formed more quickly in your chest, the feeling fiery and almost suffocating as Joel’s movements were relentless. 
“Give me one more,” his voice was rough, distant. “Just one more.” His hand dipped to cup your pussy once more, gliding up through your folds and moving the wetness from there up to your clit. The added lubrication and friction as Joel increased his pace had you crying out, body arching forward at the onslaught of pleasure. 
Your orgasm approached much faster this time, and you could feel your slick dripping down your skin onto the towel. “Oh my God,” you whimpered, your hand painfully holding onto Joel’s while the other, which had moved to rest on his hip, gripped his t-shirt. “Oh, God.” 
This time, when you came, the bubble dropped from your chest and to your stomach and your body went limp as soon as your orgasm tore through you. Your mind was a haze of euphoria, and if you were more cognizant you would have been embarrassed at the feeling of your wetness squirting out from you, would have felt heated at the way Joel praised your body. Instead, you were blissfully gone, basking in the sensation that only Joel’s fingers knew how to bring you. 
Joel’s hand slipped from yours as he pulled his arm up from underneath you, and before you were even aware of the shift, he was up on his knees, moving in between your legs and tugging his flannel pants down. “Gotta fuck you, baby. Jesus Christ, you came so good for me.” His hands bracketed your head as he leaned up against your body, the head of his leaking cock pressed against your wet slit. 
You hummed at his praise, wrapping your weak arms around his neck as you shifted your thighs a little wider to accommodate for his hips. You weren’t entirely sure you could handle another orgasm, but you knew you were desperate to have him inside of you. His head ducked down to yours, and you enthusiastically pressed your lips against his, enveloping his hips with your legs in consent. 
With a nip at your bottom lip, he slowly pressed the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance before moving his hips even further. The head of his cock pushed into your pussy, stretching you out even more than his fingers did previously. Joel groaned into your mouth as he pumped his hips slightly, pulling out of you before sinking just the tip inside you again.  
“Fuck, sweetheart. My fingers didn’t stretch out your pussy enough, huh? S’fuckin’ tight as hell around my cock.” One of his hands came to brush aside your hair, cupping the side of your face gently while his hips snapped into yours. You cried out against his mouth, the feeling of being filled so suddenly causing you to wince slightly. You welcomed this pain, however, as it quickly gave way to pleasure the more Joel rocked his hips against yours. 
Joel rested his hips against yours for a moment, his head falling down to your chest as he reveled in the tightness surrounding his cock. His breaths came out in short pants, the hand laying next to your head turning into a fist against the mattress. Your hips move up slightly, seeking out the pleasure even after coming twice before, and it brings Joel in further, causing you both to curse. 
“So desperate for me to fuck you,” Joel’s words are accented by short, quick thrusts up inside of you. He pushed up off of you, your arms falling to the bed beside you while your legs fall open as they untangle from his waist. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, and he leans his weight forward a little, pinning your legs to the bed. 
“I am, Joel. P-please fuck me,” you beg, gripping the sheets between your fingers as your hips meet his thrusts. Joel starts off slowly, implanting you fully on his cock before slowly pulling back until just the tip presses against your pussy. His bruising grip on your thighs holds your legs open while he works himself in and out of you, eyes cast on how your slick coats his cock, the occasional red streak coloring his flesh. 
A stray curl of hair falls from his previously brushed back hair, and you itch to swipe it back into place, but his pace quickens and your hold on the bed keeps you from banging against the bed frame. The sound of his cock entering your wet pussy fills the room, the indecency of it causing your skin to flush with heat. Joel’s groans start to find time with your whimpers, and soon the noises of sex are emitting throughout the bedroom, throughout the house. 
Joel’s hands move away from your thighs, traveling up your stomach and pushing up his red t-shirt to see your boobs bouncing with each thrust. He admires the peaks of your nipples, the way goosebumps arise on your flesh as it’s exposed to the cool air, before bringing both hands to grip onto them. His thumbs and forefingers pinch at your nipples, the pain mixing in with the pleasure seamlessly. 
Your eyes fall shut on a moan, body arching into his touch as you clench around Joel, causing him to curse. The familiar sensation of heat fills your body, that third orgasm floating slightly out of reach. You move one of your hands down to your pussy, resting it on your mound. Your fingertips brush against Joel’s cock every time he withdraws, and you moan at how slick he feels before bringing your fingers to your clit. 
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock,” Joel encourages, gaze focused on the way your fingers nimbly play with your throbbing clit. His hands squeeze your breasts roughly one last time before he leans up, gripping your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cock as he fucks you, adding in another level of pleasure for him as he fights back his orgasm. 
“Just like that, Joel. Just like that…oh!” Your cries fill the room as he pounds into you, your fingers increasing the pace against your clit. Your movements are shaky, not precise in the slightest, but you’re still sensitive and wound up from your previous orgasms that it doesn’t take much to get your third one going. With a few clumsy swipes of your middle finger against your clit, and Joel’s cock ruthlessly hammering in and out of you, your final orgasm floods through your body. 
Joel curses as he feels your pussy clench around him, making his movements stagger with how tight you become. He gives a few more deep thrusts, his own movements becoming shaky and less precise, and he soon slips out of you, rubbing the length of his cock along your pussy lips as you gush with your orgasm. With a grunt, he follows soon, his own cum spurting out of his red cockhead and on to your lower stomach. 
Your legs fall meekly to the bed again, and Joel’s body sags forward a little before he props himself back up with his hands. The sound of you both panting is all that can be heard as you both come down from your orgasms; you, eyes closed and mouth open. Joel, eyes open and mouth closed, nostrils flaring slightly as he regulates himself. 
It takes a moment before you both get back to yourselves, but when you do, you become increasingly aware of the wet feeling underneath your lower body, which causes you to giggle. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get around to cleaning my sheets today, huh?” 
A snort comes out of Joel, his head shaking slightly as he moves to brush back his hair. He takes in the sight of you, freshly fucked and thouroughly spent, and can’t help but grin. He might be older, but he relishes the fact that he can still please you like this. That you actually want him to do so. Makes him feel like a god among men. 
He sees the tears around your lash line from your last two orgasms, and he leans forward slightly to wipe them away with his thumb, triggering in his mind the conversation you both had before this all started. “Feelin’ alright?” His gaze moves around your body, checking to see if he hurt you in any way. He notes the red marks against the side of your neck, the cum on your lower stomach and the beginnings of many small bruises along the inside of your thigh from where he gripped them to keep them open. 
He’d be more worried about those if he didn’t know how much you loved having him mark you up. 
“Just peachy,” you grinned at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to take in the mess below you. Joel leaned in to meet you, his kiss soft and soothing as his lips slid against yours. After a moment, he pulls away again, awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the bed before standing up. Hiking up his pants, he moves to the bathroom to get a washcloth to start cleaning you up. 
After wiping away his cum and your wetness, he gently helps you off the bed, holding your arm as your legs fumble when your feet hit the ground. His pride grows then, and you smack his arm playfully when you catch sight of his grin. “Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against the side of your head before moving to gather up the dirty towel from the bed. He tosses it into the hamper before leading you to the bathroom. 
There, he draws you a hot bath, guiding you in the tub and before pulling his clothes off and joining you. It’s a cramped space, the bathtub not technically suitable for two, but you make it work. You lean your head against Joel’s shoulders, sinking into his body as his arms wrap around your middle. You know you should do something with your bedding soon, should make sure you have the guest room set up so the two of you can sleep somewhere remotely comfortable tonight, but for now, you bask in his presence. 
“Thank you for taking care of me, Joel.” You say softly, closing your eyes and letting the hot water ease away any lingering soreness your body has. His arms tighten around you as you trace mindless shapes against his thighs. He tilts his head to the side, kissing your forehead before resting his on top of yours. 
“Anytime, baby.” His breathing evens out with yours, stubble rubbing against your forehead as he speaks. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.” 
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taglist *:·゚ @hiroikegawa
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jolapeno · 3 months
Text
peaches n' cream
javier peña x f!reader
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summary: javi brings a new fruit to enjoy at his desk...
warnings: smutish themes, mentions of smut, 100% 18+. flirting. public flirting. javi is eating fruit at his desk… an: peach won in the poll, so thank you for those who voted. a few thanks, first, all hail @pedgito for giving me nothing but fruit ideas originally. to @goodwithcheese for reasons she knows and to the lovely @thetriumphantpanda who not only named this but read it and told me it was hot. so. wc: 1.3k javi enjoys mango here (but you don't need to read to enjoy)
He’s taken it to a new extreme.
Using an intended (and conscious) choice of undoing, letting it move it around his palm. Allowing half of it to slightly roll in his large hand, while his other hand stubs out his lit cigarette, its smoky tendrils dying with its end.
Somehow, the entire time, he's able to converse normally with Steve. Not allowing his gaze to flicker to you as you pretend to assess the open case file.
You're failing. More feigning, faking. Choosing to do the utmost to show you're unaffected.
But you can hear it, that nickname.
The one he’d chosen, selected, picked. Breathed it into your ear one night, then panted and hissed it; layered it against your sweat-smeared skin while the air is stained with sex. If you think hard enough, you can feel his fingers at the base of your neck even now. Recalling easily how full, practically stuffed with him you can be when his cock slides into you, how he makes you stretch, how he makes you moan—
Swallowing, you draw a circle on the paper with your pencil. Tapping the lead. Focusing on it. Attempting to find a beat to drown out whatever other thoughts your brain wishes to conjure, when your ears tune into it.
That bite.
The noise of his teeth sinking into the skin of it; the sound of the sweetness oozing from his chosen fruit today. And it forces your eyes up. Them flicking, chin still dipped, as you unknowingly glare—head wanting to shake, to plead.
Because this game had begun so innocently, but now is anything but.
Every few days, he’d try a different fruit—something to undo you. To make you watch, force your gaze to land on him, his own attempt at torture until he managed to slide his hand between your thighs in the file room, the small kitchen, and see if he’s earned a similar effect as the mango.
Today, your body will confirm he’s ruining you.
Although, you’re not sure it had been a fair fight. Not with it being close to eight days since the last time you’d had him alone. A thing your body was distinctly aware of. Reacting instantly to the scent of his aftershave. That was without the sound of his voice, all intentionally velvet, smooth when he addressed you—making a patch appear in your underwear just from the way he'd whispered it.
He'd given you an out when he'd been as early as you. Offered the chance at a great morning. A thing you'd smirked at, told him he needed to work harder if he wanted to have you bent over at work.
You suppose you've brought this on yourself. Shouldn't have dared him, shouldn't have pushed. Shouldn't have laughed when he'd gritted his jaw and dug the base of his palm into his eye and added, aw, you been missing me, Peña?
Because now you're on the edge, wound up, back close to snapping from how desperate you feel to have his hand, his tongue, his cock. Feeling taut, twisted up, so much so that the sound of chair legs scraping on the floor grates through you. Making you jump, causing your heart to hammer against your ribs.
It’s all you can do to focus on tapping the lead against the page, leaving dots of frustration along crisp white, trying not to look, nearly succeeding, until Steve speaks again:
“There a reason y’got a peach today, Jav?”
Your gaze snaps up, attention commanded. The elephant in the room called out, acknowledged. Breath held as this silent game becomes no longer that. Your throat dries, eyes caught on the beads of peach juice that are skating down his fingers—ones you know intimately. Practically able to conjure the feeling of how they curl inside of you as you sit, clenching around nothing, shifting, twisting in your chair to cross a leg over the other as you remain very much bothered, very much aroused.
Blinking back into the room, you realise it’s just the two of you.
A dread filling, flooding your gut. Because you’re not sure how long you can hold it together, so close to asking, to begging. Expressing how needy you are, just like he said you would be when he’d bid you goodbye before he’d had to follow a lead.
You despise letting him win.
Prefer the way you keep your cards close to your chest. But, you suspect he knows, can read how your breath is harder to find again, that is sounds louder—if that’s at all possible as you watch him smile.
Leaning back, finishing one half of the fruit, the chair groans in the quiet as he rolls his hips, lifting his leg, resting his ankle on his opposite knee. Dragging, sliding his eyes up and down what he can see of you from behind your desk.
“Don’t.”
Swiping his thumb across his lower lip, eyes glowering with something unreadable. “Keep your eyes on me, hermosa.”
“Stop it.”
“Watch.”
And you do.
Unable to break your gaze. Following, practically forced to as he picks up the second half, eyes snapping to his other middle finger as he raises it, before he drags it along the centre of the fruit. Sliding it against where the pit was, intention there, clear as fucking day. It causes your hips to move on instinct as juice is forced up from the pressure, making your mouth fall open, drop, hanging. It just opens, feeling as dumb as you likely look as you press your thighs together even more intensely.
Then, he repeats the movement. And again, and again—
“Peña.”
He makes a noise, sliding two fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around it. “Fuck,” he groans, head bent, eyes wide, large and brown, staring into you, “Almost tastes as good as you, Peach.”
You swallow. A retort dying, wilting.
It never quite appears. And even if it did, he’d have robbed it with his next step, his next move.
Dragging the tip of his tongue along the centre of the fruit, where the pit had been, his eyes on you—brown, practically filled and brimming with lust. The act and look so reminiscent of when he’s between your legs, you know it’s intentional. A message, one only you can understand. Your mind remembers those times when your fingers are grasping at his bed sheets and his name leaves like a cry from your lips.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What, Peach?”
Leaning forward, elbows to your desk, you dig them in until it hurts.
Trying to keep yourself in control, in check—not wanting to stand because you’d be over there. Skirt hiked in your fingers, showing him the evidence of what he’s done, the concrete proof, before taking a seat on him, test to see how much of you can feel through his choice of pants today.
“Yes,” you hiss from between your teeth.
Elongating it, making the S’s almost roll as you almost plead with him with your eyes.
“Not like your nickname?”
“You know I do, Peña.”
Dragging his mouth against the fruit, you whine—somewhere in the back of your throat. Seeing the tip of his nose catching it, bits of peach lifting with his tongue as you try to clamp your mouth shut.
Until he repeats the motion, mouth fully latched to the fruit as he makes a noise so similar to the one he does when his mouth is on your pussy. When he’s devouring; when he’s trying to write out his name with his tongue as though he doesn’t own you.
As though you haven’t belonged to him for months now.
Your palms slam on the desk, finding yourself standing. Legs shaking, trembling. His face blanking, mouth detaching from the halved peach as lines crinkle across his forehead, eyes softer, apologies almost ready to appear.
“File room. Now.”
The look on his face is gone in a flash, forehead smoothing, lips curling into a smirk.
Not arguing, not demanding you sit. Be tormented more.
Instead, throwing the half-enjoyed fruit into the trash can as he swings his legs out from under the desk, striding behind you, heeled boots sounding for several steps before you feel his fingers pressing onto your lower back.
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k0juki · 4 months
Note
heyyyy!! trying my luck here😅
imagine a smoker!joost x non smoker!reader hanging out or smth, and joost just had a cigarette and tries to kiss the reader but since they don’t like the smell or taste of it they don’t give him a kiss😭😭😭 and then he gets all sad and starts pouting and the reader just giggles and stuff😭 just a lot of cuteness and fluff💗
also ps! you’re literally my favorite author who writes for joost!!!
A/n: someone is lucky🤞🍀 and that's you anon🫵
Kisses and cigarettes
Joost Klein x fem!reader
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English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Also the picture is not mine. Credit goes to owner!
Wc: 452
---
Joost leaned against the railing, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he took a drag, letting the smoke curl up into the evening sky. It was a long day for him, but you were here to help him with anything, and he was glad.
The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over everything, and he couldn't help but think how perfect the moment was. His eyes flicked over to you, sitting on the porch swing, a soft smile playing on your lips as you watched him.
With a final drag, Joost stubbed out the cigarette on the railing and made his way over to you. He could see the way your nose wrinkled slightly, a sure sign you weren't a fan of the lingering smell. But he hoped maybe this time you'd let it slide.
"Hey." he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You turned your head the last second, and his kiss landed on your cheek instead. "Joost, you know I don't like the smell." you said, trying to keep the teasing out of your voice. Just messing with him a bit.
He pulled back, eyes wide and a pout already forming on his lips. "But... I missed you." he said, his voice taking on a whiny edge that made your heart melt a little. He looked so crestfallen, like a puppy who'd just been told no.
You couldn't help but giggle at his expression, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Oh, Joost, you're adorable when you pout." you teased, pressing a kiss to his forehead instead.
He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "It's not fair." he muttered. "I just wanted one little kiss."
You laughed outright then, the sound bright and musical in the evening air. "Well, you can have as many kisses as you want." you stated, "as long as you don't smell like an ashtray."
Joost's pout deepened for a moment before he finally cracked a smile, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "Fine, fine," he said, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. "I guess I'll just have to brush my teeth and freshen up for you."
You giggled again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down onto the swing beside you. "Now that sounds like a plan." you said, resting your head on his shoulder. "Besides, I love you more when you smell like you and not smoke."
He sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I love you too," he murmured. "Even if you are a bit of a kiss tease.”
---
A/n: sorry I wasn't here xdd I had finals, but now I'm free and ready to start writing again! Also my last post "Wolf in sheep's clothing" I spent so much time on it and I would love to if you give it try...:))🩷🩷
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neoplatinum · 7 months
Text
we meet again | huh 'jennifer' yunjin
summary: yunjin and reader go on their non-refundable anniversary trip...as exes
pairing: ex gf!yunjin x ex!reader
themes: exes to lovers, miscommunication, discussions of needs, angst, fluff, suggestive-ish, paris!, sprinkles of humor here and there
wc: 4.5k
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you stare into your cup of coffee as you wait for your plane to be ready to take off, the warm coffee is a nice contrast from the coldness you can feel from the woman next to you: your ex of four months yunjin.
she's been all frowny and defensive ever since you picked her up for the trip. her huffing and puffing and crossed arms and legs as she looks away from you.
you haven't spoken to her in months until you got an email that the trip you planned for your anniversary with yunjin sent a reminder email. you cursed your old self for setting up an auto-email service to notify her of the trip too.
then she texted you:
jennifer huh (ex): did you plan an anniversary trip for us?
you call her immediately, knowing you have to explain what happened.
"hi jen, and yes i did plan this as an anniversary trip." you begin rubbing your forehead as you try and weasel your way out of this awkward conversation.
"okay...it says here it's non-refundable." yunjin has always been quick at reading between the lines and you practically prayed for her to miss that portion.
"ah yes, well it is non-refundable." you fiddle around with a stress ball as she talks.
"so are we going?" yunjin cuts you off.
"what?" you sputter out, the stress ball that's been in your hand turning being smashed as small as possible. you begin pacing back and forth and even end up stubbing your toe. "fuck!"
"are you okay?" yunjin stops in the middle of her explanation when you curse through the phone. you mutter a quick yes and she continues, "well its my ticket, and i want to go. were you planning on going with anyone else?" yunjin goes silent.
"well no, maybe my sister but you would still have to transfer the ticket." you explain and sit back down, damn that pinky toe hurts so much.
"so it is my ticket." yunjin continues and you nod through the phone, "okay, i am going then." you groan out loud and yunjin begins calling you dramatic.
"whatever yunjin, i'll pick you up for the airport, i'll talk to you later."
--
leading to you both now sitting by the airport benches, both of your luggage separating you by a seat. all around you are families or couples headed for paris, when all you can think about is how soon this will be over.
yunjin is sporting her long leather jacket and her newly dyed red hair, which if you were being honest scared you when you first saw her. now all you can do is stare at how well it works for her, even near cursing her for still making your heartbeat after dumping you.
"stupid red." you mutter to yourself as you swirl your cup.
"what was that?" yunjin takes off one side of her headphones and leans into you.
"oh, just nice red hair." she nods at that and turns back to her music, plugging her headphones in. you scoff at the audacity of her. with that you turn back to watching planes, and hope that this three day trip ends quickly.
--
you're settling into your seat and ready to plug your earbuds in for this flight when you notice the couple next to you giggling loudly while cuddling each other, rolling your eyes at them two.
the girl looks at you and yunjin who has taken the window seat, "are you guys going to paris for your honeymoon?" she asks you while the guy nods excitedly at you.
"uhh, no we're not." you let out a nervous chuckle as the two begin going on a long conversation (very one-sided by the way) about how in love they are, and how they're going to paris for their honeymoon/anniversary. all you can do is sheepishly smile along and hope their monologue ends soon (it doesn't). yunjin chuckles next to you and you kick her subtly to get her to stop.
while you suffer through the long monologue of how they met, how many cats they raise and even drama about their friends, yunjin finds it hilarious yet sad, because honestly, you two could've been that couple, had you two not broken up.
-- day 1
"gosh! they talked my ear off, you know i downloaded like five different movies and a bunch of playlists for that flight, only to not watch a SINGLE movie." you begin venting about the couple to which yunjin finds amusing and pokes fun at you.
"that's on you for not knowing how to exit a conversation." she smiles as you both get a cab to the hotel.
once you've placed your luggage into the trunk and set off, you continue, "listen, i've always been horrible at exiting those situations, didn't help that they were both so enthusiastic."
"i know, it's how i got your number, remember?" yunjin says and you stop for a second, thinking about the first time you met. It was at a concert where she was next to you, talking your ear off about how much she loved the artist. she came alone because none of her friends listened to the artist. you, being the kind soul you were, let her talk to you through the whole concert, even letting her talk through your favorite song.
"yeah, i guess so." you turn away from yunjin in the cab, with the rest of the ride turning quiet.
--
"roses on the bed, and a single king bed?" yunjin questions as you enter the hotel suite. you begin to heat up, remembering how you specifically requested rose petals in the shape of a heart and champagne in an ice bath, along with towels folded into swans facing each other and kissing. god, the things you do when you're in love.
"ah! well, it was for our anniversary so i made a special request." you say really hoping she couldn't hear you.
"well, i'm glad i came, now that i can see this, i can make fun of you for being so cheesy," she says as she grabs the champagne from the metal bucket. "damn, champagne's expensive too. how much did you spend on this trip?"
she pops the champagne cork and starts pouring the golden liquid into two champagne flutes. passing one of the flutes to you.
"too much, had to dip into my savings," you say as you think about the credit card bill, a full body shiver running up your spine just at the thought.
she laughs and smiles at you, "well, consider me lucky."
you cough and try not to think about how different this trip would've been had you two not separated.
"i'm going to go wash up." yunjin puts her flute down and starts digging through her suitcase. you nod settle into one of the armchairs and turn on the hotel tv.
the shower turns on and with that you try to quiet your heart, constantly reassuring yourself that you will get through this trip and be able to be back at home away from an ex you're still in love with.
"what did i get myself into?" you groan and close your eyes, letting the sleep overtake you.
--
"hey...hey wake up." yunjin gently shakes your arm as you wake up from your nap. you groan and mumble incoherent thoughts.
"how long have i been asleep?" the grogginess is still settling into your bones, you open your eyes to the sight of yunjin wearing more casual clothes but still looking effortlessly beautiful with her wavy red hair and adorable glasses perched on her nose.
"long enough, i'm hungry, let's get dinner." she says and you nod, feeling the hunger from not eating on the plane and immediately falling asleep in the hotel.
outside, the sun has started to set, people are chatting and bright lights are adorning the streets. people are lively and there's even buskers playing violin and guitars, enticing the people to spare a few coins for their astounding performance.
you trail behind yunjin, watching the way she absorbs into the parisian night, with her film camera in hand and a smile adorning her face. it makes you yearn, yearn for another universe where you're hers once more. but to also yearn for answers of why she dumped you all those months ago.
"let's go in this one." she turns around and you're snapped out of your thoughts, she points at the restaurant and you follow her in. the smell of delicious food and the warm atmosphere is making you more hungry.
"right this way." your server brings you to your booth. and you seat yourself in front of yunjin, honestly something you haven't done in so long, that it's like you're falling in love all over again. the warm yellow lamp hanging over the booth makes her skin glow, and not to mention just her in general has your knees weak.
instead of staring at her like a fool, you try to focus on the menu in front of you. it works well because after a few glances at the mostly french menu, you're beyond confused with what to order. eyebrows furrowing and biting your nails at the french words.
"are you ready to order?" the waiter stands before you and before you can get out a word asking what these dishes are yunjin is quickly ordering her dinner in french and you sit there anxious.
"and for you?" the waiter turns to you.
"uh, this one?" you point at the menu and show him, he nods taking quick note of the orders before leaving.
you're back to the awkwardness of not having a menu in front of you to distract you from the beauty that is yunjin.
"so....how are you doing? dating anyone?" you start, trying to break the ice. you fiddle with your thumbs and avoid her gaze as she processes the questions you have thrown at her.
"are you kidding me? that's how you are going to start the conversation?" she scoffs at your lame attempt at having a serious conversation.
"what? i think those are reasonable questions." you mumble to yourself, feeling embarrassed you start drinking the water next to you.
"fine. i am doing fine and no, i am not dating anyone." she crosses her arms and glares at you from across the table.
"cool cool...." you trail off, trying to watch other people and feeling a little giddy when yunjin said she wasn't dating anyone.
the waiter returns with a basket of bread and butter, also refilling water cups and smiling at you both before leaving quickly. it doesn't go unnoticed that he keeps eyeing yunjin and smiling at her throughout the interaction.
"what about you?" yunjin starts with a slice of bread in her mouth.
"oh me, no not dating anymore, of course not." you let the words tumble out of your mouth, forgetting how you are trying to keep your walls up around yunjin.
"what do you mean by 'of course not'?" she questions as she spreads more butter onto her baguette.
you also grab a slice of bread and start smearing it with butter, thinking of ways to exit this topic as smoothly as possible, "just you know...not there."
she nods and you can see that she wants to prod more into why, but the waiter shows up with both your dishes in hand.
"for you madam," he places her beef bourguignon in front of her. meanwhile placing your seafood pasta in front of you. "and for you."
"shit..." you mumble as you stare at your dish, yunjin sighs but lets out an amused smile at the sight.
"of course you managed to order a seafood dish because you didn't understand french." she laughs at you, and all you can do is feel even more embarrassed from how this trip is going. "let's switch."
yunjin trades plates with you, your heart warms when she remembers your seafood allergy. you thank her sheepishly and begin digging into your dish. "jen! this is delicious!" you exclaim with a piece of beef in your mouth.
she smiles at you warmly and takes a quick photo of you, making your cheeks warm at the sentiment, remembering her habit of taking photos of you when she found you cute.
the waiter returns this time, but you look at him confused because you haven't ordered anything else.
"hello madam," he starts while leaning on the booth by yunjin's side, showing off his pearly white smile and trying to be suave, "how are you enjoying paris?"
"it's lovely here, thank you for asking." yunjin starts, you can only watch as the two engage in conversation, making you more and more quiet as time passes.
they speak about parisian culture and even share a few phrases in french that you definitely could not understand. you end up only focusing on your dish until he leaves much later. yunjin looks back at you and is confused by the switch in your demeanor.
yunjin goes quiet at the sight of you so down, so she also begins quietly eating her (your) seafood pasta, and as the time dwindles to the end. the waiter returns with the bill and a napkin that he slips to yunjin, it doesn't take a genius to understand what he gave her.
you huff angrily as you pay for the dinner. and yunjin follows you out of the restaurant and disposes of the napkin in front of you. she turns to you with her hand open and waiting for yours. you take it as you both stroll down the streets of paris with full bellies and a noticeably happier mood.
-- day 2
yunjin has managed to convince you (you really don't know how) to go and get caricatures of the both of you for "memories". you groaned at the idea, but there you sat in the small ratty chair in front of the french artist, and waited for this quick drawing. after a few quick minutes, the artist hands you the drawing, showcasing a funny imagery of yunjin stomping your head to the ground as your relationship.
"hey! you can't draw that!" you exclaim as you go over the painting, you can't lie though, the guy was talented.
yunjin just laughs and drops euros into his hand before dragging you away from the chairs. "don't take it too seriously, it's just a drawing." she takes the drawing from your hands before stuffing it into her purse and folding her arms with yours.
"so, what should we do today?" she says to steer you away from thinking about the drawing.
"well actually, i had an itinerary ready for this trip," fishing your phone out of your pocket, you begin listing places that you wanted to take yunjin to. "the louvre?"
she stops her feets and her jaw drops and you can see her happiness just overflowing.
"yes yes yes! you know me too well, lifelong dream to see the mona lisa." she says and you smile, remembering that's why you put it on your itinerary, and soon you're flagging down a cab to head to the louvre.
god, you're never getting over her at this point. you try not to dwell on that thought and instead let things come as they are.
--
she's busy capturing photos of the mona lisa and other pieces, while you are capturing memories of her in your mind. taking slow steps behind her as she reads through the description of each piece that intrigues her.
she's gorgeous in her dark green leather coat, red hair flowing down her back with her trusty film camera looped around her wrist. she looks like she belongs in an art museum and you're left wondering if you can ask the art curators to put a picture of her as a piece.
once you reach the end of the museum, you begin to realize there really hasn't been any piece that has intrigued you to look at, even when yunjin was admiring the mona lisa, all you could focus on were her gorgeous eyes.
that day, you hope that you can always make her happy, even if she no longer is yours.
--
"of course we have to go to see the eiffel tower, i don't care that it's cheesy and cliche, we HAVE to go." she explains to you as she's touching up her makeup again. the two of you returned to the hotel after a long day of exploring local attractions, but now yunjin is explaining that you two definitely need to go despite how tired you are.
while she goes on and on about the importance of a paris trip including eiffel tower pictures, you try to keep your eyes open. the warmth of the jacket that you still have on, swallowing you.
"okay okay, we should go." you get up and start rubbing at your eyes, even letting out loud yawns as you put on your shoes. yunjin finally takes a look at you and starts to feel bad for pushing you to do so much today.
"you look tired, we can go another time?" she starts, feeling embarrassed.
you grab a hold of the wall as you tuck the back of the shoe over your sock, "not at all, let's go!"
you look tired, eyes lower than usual. with a stretch and a neck crack, you look more energized and ready to take on the night.
"let's go!" you exclaim, opening your palm for her to hold onto. she can only smile and think about how sweet it is that you are trying to do activities that she wants to do.
"okay, let's go." she responds, your hand wraps around hers tightly as you both get out of the car and walk through the crowd to get closer to the eiffel tower.
while yunjin stares at the little lights adorning the eiffel tower, sparkling like the stars in the sky, you try and take discreet photos of her. thinking about how you are basically in an alternate universe that exists only you and yunjin, and soon reality will return with you alone and single. these photos will remain to remind you that this trip wasn't a dream, what little you have to cling onto.
she's enjoying the night breeze and the liveliness of the people around her, but you're focused on her. she's also capturing photos of the eiffel tower but taking time to snap photos of the people around her. until her camera lands on you, snapping a photo of you, taking a photo of her.
then you both move away from your cameras and look at each other, and time feels like it stops when you both just admire each other. her eyes become glossy and tears are flowing down her cheek.
you make a quick dash to hug her, holding her tightly. you feel her lay her head on your shoulder and you can feel her body wrack into yours, with quiet sobs and she wraps around you like she'll lose you too.
it feels like the world is crashing around you two, with her grabbing onto your jacket and pinching it so hard. you start rubbing her hair in the motion that you know will bring her comfort, as it has done many times before.
you must've been there for a long time, because people are looking at you two in sympathy, a traveling florist even hands you a free rose to cheer you up. you immediately slip the rose into her pocket. and she stops hugging onto you to see the rose in her breast pocket. she smiles a little, and with a shaky voice, "let's go back to the hotel please."
you nod and hold her hand as you two take the long way back. her hand is still very much holding onto yours tightly. and by the time that you two are back in the room, she drops onto the bed and taps the be urging you to join.
you slip off your shoes and jacket and settle on the bed, facing yunjin. she twirls the rose between her fingers and finally looks at you.
"do you know why i broke up with you?" she whispers, and your body has frozen up, yunjin kept the break up very simple. a single 'let's break up.' over coffee and then she left.
"i don't." you whisper back.
"do you want to know?" she whispers back.
"yes, i really do." you sit up and watch her thinking for a while.
"i broke up with you because i didn't feel like you loved me anymore. whenever we hung out it never felt like you cared anymore, you were even inconsiderate at times and i think, no, i believed that you fell out of love with me."
you nod, but each word cracks your heart a little more, thinking about how wrong each word feels. it simply wasn't true, you never stopped loving her and the guilt of making her feel this way makes you want to vomit.
"this whole trip, i feel like i saw the old you again, the you that fell in love with me and showered me with attention." she continues her monologue and breathes harder at the emotions that were being kept at bay. "earlier, when you were taking photos of me and i caught you, it was exactly like our first date, it hurt so bad..." and by now she's sobbing and you're sobbing and it's all just a big mess.
"it hurts so bad that now i know you never fell out of love with me. that i made a mistake by breaking up with you and we've been months apart when we could've had this happy anniversary together." she continues with tears in her eyes and she's holding you close. alternating between crying and talking.
you take in the words openly, understanding the position that you've put her in and how hurt she was by your lack of attention. you can't even deny it either, those last weeks before the breakup felt like a rift between the two of you, neither knowing how to go forward. with yunjin making the final and unfortunate decision of dumping you.
"jen, you mean everything to me, and i'm so beyond sorry if it feels as if i never prioritized you." you are also trembling in her hold as she listens to you, nodding to your words every so often. "i never and mean never fell out of love with you. i'm sorry that it took a vacation to figure this out too."
she stops completely and holds your face in her hands as she completely dives herself into a passionate kiss. searing her lips against yours and pushing you into the bed more.
"you're mine." yunjin speaks in between kisses.
"yours." you move your hands into her hair and pull her close, bodies molding into one as the night goes on.
-- day 3
three quick knocks disturb you from your sleep, you rub your eyes and open them to the harsh rays of the windows.
"cleaning service!" you could hear outside the room, and you examine yourself. naked as ever and clothes all sprawled around, yunjin dead asleep on the other side of the bed.
"shit!" you run to the closet and grab a bathrobe and quickly tie it around yourself as you rush to the door. finally giving one glance at the bird's nest of hair, you pat down the hair as much as you can before opening the door slightly.
"hi! um, we don't need cleaning right now, maybe later?" you ask worriedly, the lady eyes your bathrobe and your hair and gives a smirk before walking away to the next room. you cringe at the idea that she knows exactly what you have been up to and close the door quickly.
"phew." you are relieved that they didn't walk into you and yunjin butt naked for cleaning service. meanwhile, yunjin has approached you from behind and wrapped her arms around you.
"hi, come back to bed." she pulls at your robe and pulls you towards her.
"oh okay..."you're confused but let her pull you back to bed. cuddling with her feels nice and reminds you of the days you spent lounging in each other's place.
--
"jen! i cannot believe you!" you stand on the far end away from her, backing yourself into a corner.
"what? i didn't do anything wrong." she stalks towards you with a devious smile as she watches you examine yourself in the mirror.
"you mauled my neck!" you exclaim as you claw at your neck looking left and right at the damage she's done. yunjin rather looks proud of her handiwork and instead pulls you onto her lap.
"okay no need to be a big baby about it, let me touch it up." she pulls out her concealer and starts going to town on the many hickeys she's left littered across your neck.
you huff and complain while yunjin lets you drone on while applying concealer until you're satisfied. she doesn't mention the new marks she's dug into your back, quite happy that only she can see them.
--
you both set out for a much chiller day outside, leisurely walking in parks and chatting while enjoying the parisian weather. you reach a quiet spot in the park, pulling out a blanket and your picnic basket.
yunjin doesn't comment on the humongous scarf that you have wrapped around your neck, but it does make her laugh a bit to see it.
you two are enjoying the nice breeze, when you hear smacking sounds nearby. looking around, you don't spot anything unusual until you notice a couple practically eating each other's mouths off. a closer look and you realize you recognize the two as the couple from the plane into paris.
you immediately turn your head to yunjin, "pss, the couple from the plane is at my six."
she quickly whips her head around and lo and behold the couple is still loudly eating each other's faces off. she laughs at the sight before capturing your lips with hers. "we should beat them."
"jen noooooo." you groan and turn away from her, uninterested at the idea of attracting their attention. she simply laughs and continues to enjoy the picnic. the rest of the trip goes well, often sharing little tidbits of your lives in the past couple months without each other.
after enjoying your "anniversary" trip in paris, you both get ready to go home. holding hands and kissing through the cab ride, plane ride and even through baggage claim.
you spot your sister out front of the pick-up terminal with a big sign "welcome back lovers!" you groan at the sign, of course she would show up with a poster plastering you and yunjin's photos to pick you up.
"she knows we're back together?" yunjin comments in confusion.
"i didn't even tell her, she just kept saying she knew we would get back together when the trip was over." you hold yunjin's luggage as your sister tackles yunjin into a hug, spilling about how much she missed her.
"i'm here too you know...your actual sister." your sister simply swats you away and enthusiastically asks about your trip to yunjin.
you drive off with yunjin's hand in yours and a warm smile as yunjin talks about the trip to your sister.
--
a/n: i apologize if there's any inaccuracies about paris, i've never been 😭 this post was inspired by a fic i read a longggg time ago. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!
958 notes · View notes
grimm-writings · 5 months
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don’t you repeat that!
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…ft! boothill x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, but gets kind of sad at the end there, established relationship, inspired by boothill leaks, cursing
…wc! 394
…notes! trying to scavenge back some writing motivation so a tiny lil bootsy drabble while i manifest for him LMAO. speedrunning penacony quests rn i must see the cowboy by any means necessary…
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Your boyfriend knows some colourful language.
How he comes up with such a unique string of curses and insults confounds you.  Even now you can hear the unfortunate sound of him stubbing his toe, the loud hiss as he draws in breath and…
“Fucking dumb shit riding on horseback in the middle of the God damn night!”
There it is.
“Language,” you call out.  You look down at the little girl sitting on your lap and shake your head at her, as if to communicate to her how irresponsible her old man is being, especially when she’s nearby.
Finally, your boyfriend’s head peeks out from behind the doorway, as if about to retort that his poor toe has been painfully attacked by the edge of a table.  Instead, he sees you, crossing your little girl’s arms disappointingly at his action.
He sighs and strides forward, dramatically overselling a limp, before crouching into a squat.  He points at the little baby with a pout.  “Don’t you go repeating what I say.  Or else this one here’ll never forgive me.”
A toothy grin is shot your way and you can’t help but scoff.  “She can only babble so far.  Though, under your wing?  I wouldn’t be surprised if her first words happen to be a curse at an Aeon.”
“I’d be quite proud if that was the case,” he returns, picking up the baby from your lap.  You let him.  Despite his foul mouth, your partner has proven himself very capable of handling a newborn child.  From the very day he entered your shared home with her in his arms, you knew she carved something new and special out of the cowboy you lived with.
Almost made you feel like a real family.
“Let’s get you to sleep, eh?”  He speaks to her as if she can understand full length sentences.  “Can’t have you driftin’ off when I’m trying t’ introduce you to our steeds, princess.”
For a second, you really considered asking then and there.  Seeing how the little girl reaches up and tries to brush dark hair away from your boyfriend’s eye makes your heart melt.  This could be your future.  Your forever.  A family with your favourite people.
Though, as you watch him, maybe you’ll wait.
Or, maybe, you won’t even get that opportunity at all.
It’s not like Boothill ever knew anyway.
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440 notes · View notes
smuttyaf · 7 days
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Mr. Brightside
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𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬.
wc: 4.2k | part one
breeding k!nk
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“What are you up to?”
It’s a simple question, one that you should have the answer to immediately — one that should be rolling off your tongue within a few seconds, but it doesn’t.
In through one ear and out the other, it slips through your mind the question at hand with the following actions partaking in your position right now. With vision trailing closed, a pleasant hum leaves your throat while tongue slithers out to wet bruised flesh, you nearly forget what you’re doing as Harry is fit between your legs.
His lips suck your swollen glands in his mouth, muscle sliding amongst jittery ball of nerves that has your chest stutter at the lewd motions. Shaky fingers feel over cotton sheets as they draw down the expanse of it to cradle themselves in untamed curls.
“Hello?”
The questionable voice on the other end of the line makes another subconscious hum float into the space. Your lips part, shoulders going slack with toes curling in; how did you manage to even get here?
“Just ah… catching up on—” The hand holding your phone carries itself away from your ear as Harry’s tongue prods gently against your needy hole, making a pitiful whine escape. “Fuck.”
Teeth bite into your flesh hungrily, lashes peeling your vision open with fingers tugging away on his strands of brown locks. This is so wrong, absolutely diabolical but it’s even worse that you like it.
It all happened so fast; one moment you were reading with feet mindlessly tussling with Harry’s to soon answer the bombarding call of your boyfriend. It’s not unusual for Reid to call and check-in, he’s done it before it’s practically part of your routine, but that doesn’t mean that Harry wouldn’t be annoyed by it.
At first it started with double checks in your direction, the obvious look of “hurry and end the call” written all of his features, but Harry never understood that it was not that easy to immediately get off the phone with him. So, as Reid listed off the many clients he met today to what he had for lunch, it was only right for him to close the unattended book in your lap and slide it amongst the bedside table, his hands soon scooping your waist in his hold as he pulled you down the bed.
It was innocent, at least that’s what you thought. His touch pushing your thighs higher up amongst your body to the point your knees lie into your chest. His gaze haunting as you lightly laughed into the phone at whatever joke was said.
In Harry’s mind you shouldn’t be laughing at something that didn’t come from him, and frankly it was pissing him off that Reid was cutting into his alone time with you. And yes, by now he knows; he’s heard it all before. Being with someone in a relationship wasn’t for the weak-hearted, not for anyone built with insecurities, and at first Harry had it down pack, he didn’t care for your boyfriend, he was annoyed by his presence and stupid jokes (who wouldn’t be) which is why he made sure to make a good impression on you the first time.
Yes, you…
Sweet smile and the irresistible aroma of vanilla. Since being introduced in the friend group Harry knew he had to have you and he didn’t care if Reid stood in his way.
It’s why he made his move on you so long ago, why you’re pressed beneath him right now - your once adorable laughter being caught in your throat as Harry pressed himself into you. Half hard bulge sinking into the fat lips of your pussy stretched in such a position from your leggings that you inhale an uneasy breath, vision looking between his heavy-lidded eyes and growing cock.
“You alright? What happened?” He asked because such sudden pause in laughter leaves the call feeling ominous, confusion completely flooding his tone.
“I-It’s nothing… just stubbed my toe.” The first lie falling from your lips as hand went towards the band of his joggers, the gentle shove you do means nothing to him as Harry takes them to hold.
“Oh! Ouch!”
“Yeah…”
Innocence flew out the window that very moment, but it’s hard to think it was ever there. Shallow breaths escape watching closely to the way he trails up the expanse of your torso, body leaning in closer allowing his cock to rub amongst your pussy rougher than before. Harry’s nose softly dragged down the underside of your throat as your intertwined feet now run along his calves.
His lean body pressed amongst yours and fit himself into your laxed frame as if puzzle pieces made to fit. You shouldn’t have been turned on right then, should’ve pushed him away again and told him another time… but you just couldn’t, not when your walls begin to swell and pulse against his covered bulge.
From whispered words running across skin to gentle touches pulling away clothes, it all resulted in the circumstance you’re in right now; Harry proudly thrusting his tongue into your pussy. Cherry red and glistening with spit, he lied amongst his stomach with eyes closed and nails scratching into skin purely in love with the taste of you. The scent and arousal being expelled is his absolute favorite; it’s fresh yet ripe, such a distinct specific pheromone that leaves him enraptured by the fact you’re ovulating.
His wet muscle nuzzles itself lucidly between soiled walls. The seedy texture nurturing the fixated trance you have over him; creamy fluid spreading amongst taste buds overthrown by how delicious you are. It’s why he moans against you with brows pushing together. Maybe he should quiet down, stop his hums of pleasure from filling the space but he can’t, not when you’re fertile and dripping with the need to be stuffed.
“Catching up on…”
“The Bear.”
It comes out in a whispered rush, droozy and tired. It makes Reid's face twist in confusion, his familiar irritated huff rings throughout the speaker making you roll your eyes open. You know you’re not making this situation any better, not even trying to hide how out of breath you sound but it’s hard trying to keep your voice flat with the way Harry is eating you out.
“I thought we were watching it together?” He grumbles, clearly annoyed, but you didn’t care.
Harry’s tongue runs itself messily over your hole, his own sight peeling open as his touch drags down your thighs spreading them open further. He adjusts his position, the wings of his back flexing beautifully as he leans up — messy curls and possessive vision looking over your glistening plump lips — letting a tear drop of spit fall across an irritated clit.
Would it be suspicious if you end the call right now? Because you’re sure it wouldn’t be as bad as the heavy panting you’re doing over the phone.
Teeth dig into flesh, sight looking over Harry leaning in and letting his tongue flatten against your lips to catch the fluid and run it back over your pussy. His hand situated along your pelvis draws down to meet his mouth and begins playing with your clit, further adding more pleasure to the already immersed feeling.
“W-We…” Voice halting as your lips part at Harry lapping over your swollen hole again. “We are… I just wanted to rewatch it, catch up.” Hopefully saving yourself as your words wobble in hesitation.
“Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” Reid asks just as Harry’s tongue thrust back in with heavy motions of his thumb quickening in paste. He was breaking you down in every imaginable way and all you could do was accept the fate crawling up your feet.
His grip held you onto the bed, mouth penetrating your drenched cunt as you tried to bite back your whimpers. Harry was more turned on than you could imagine; having his way with you while your boyfriend is listening, not knowing about what’s partaking in the background. It turns him on knowing he touches and licks parts he no longer has access too, how he can fuck you and send you home to him like it’s nothing.
“Are you coming down with something?” He questions once more which drags you out of the lucid feelings beginning to overcome you. Lashes flutter open your vision, consciousness finally coming back with the eery shivers of your orgasm pulsing through your pelvis.
“No, baby. I’m fine.” You manage to say with the straightest voice. Your chest draws in as thighs tighten around Harry’s head, the fingers that once ran through his hair trail down his neck lightly scratching the hickies blossoming along the surface trying to hold onto a sliver of hope.
“The show is just stressing me out,” Breath falling across the screen as pins of pleasure begin to prickle up your spine. “But, what are you doing now? Didn’t you just get off work?”
The little inch of self-control left disappears as nails sink deeper into skin and chest blossoms red while empty moans escape. Right foot twitching, thighs quivering around curls, and spine flexing into duvet allowing the feelings to consume every motion that once rebelled against such feelings finally barreling through.
And as Reid continues going on his daily tangent about how he woke up this morning to the annoying client he had today, your eyes remain close and head buried into the pillow. Hips rotating against Harry’s mouth that slobbers and slurps your orgasm leaking through. If you weren’t so incoherent at the moment you would’ve told him to keep the noise down, but you’re too in love with this feeling — in love with him — to even tell him to stop.
Tongue continuously laps over swollen hole, lips sucking your throbbing one’s into his mouth as his own eyes flutter from the delicious way you taste to the sight of you holding yourself back. It’s such a divine sight; nipples erect, perky and well rounded, chest red with pleasurable irritation and neck straining trying to not let moans escape. Harry can’t help the way his own hips runt into the sheets finding minimal satisfaction in the position he’s in.
“Then, babe, you wouldn’t believe what happened-”
But, you don’t care. Not even a slither of your attention is given to him as thumb continues to run across your clit in slow circles. It has you swallow hesitantly, lungs nearly gasping for air as your waist pulls back. Your mind was in the gutter allowing Harry to eat you out while on the phone with your boyfriend. Your body has completely surrendered and been claimed by him that it didn’t matter who was on the other line and if he could even hear the exchange going on right now, nothing matters at this moment but your climax racking through leaving twitching tremors to rake throughout.
It was hard to not let a tiny whine escape, bruised fat parting eerily as Harry’s wet muscle ventures up the expanse of your pussy. Split ends tickle inner thighs as warm breath runs over blushing skin, his touch peels away from your trembling waist as they draw up your body. Soft moist sponges of love trail up your chest to pepper along your neck drawing you back to consciousness.
“Pussy so perfect.” Harry slurs drunk from the taste of you. He’s intoxicated and will do anything to have all your focus on him. “Gonna fuck you baby, I know you’re begging for it.”
Erect cock sinks along your pelvis making you whimper against the blade of his shoulders. Heavy lidded eyes look up at the ceiling to the ringlets floating in your vision. Just as much as he was infatuated with you, are you to him; heart singing a heavenly tune, legs wrapping around his waist to fingers dragging along his stomach. The feelings that ignite and pulse through your veins at just the simple feel of him running down your skin was an electric passion that had you hooked on him from the very beginning.
“Want me to fill you up?” He breathes into your ear as his arms shuffle by your head. His own cranes away to look over your face, how glossy your eyes are with arousal and teeth fitting along fat flesh. It’s that sight alone that he presses his lips amongst yours; both slouching amongst the other and french kissing as if wanting to devour each other again.
“Y/N, what the fuck is that noise?”
Eyes pop open in surprise, immediately you pull away with hand tearing the phone away from your ear sending Harry a concerned look.
“You think I give a fuck?” His words falling over your face with the end of his lip turning up into a smile. It shouldn’t arouse you, but look at the predicament you’re already in, obviously it turns you on more than you’d like to admit and maybe you need to start coming to terms with that.
“This pussy belongs to me.” Harry affirms as gaze flickers from your pouty lips to full breasts on display. He sits up on his knees, vision still stuck on your body and how sexy you look below him that he doesn’t hesitate to slap your tit obnoxiously earning a giggle from you.
“What the fuck, Y/N?”
“Oh my god Reid, it’s nothing. I’m just eating strawberries?”
Another laugh escapes as Harry rolls his eyes at your excuse, it’s a shitty one but it’s all you have at the moment with the way his cock lies along on your stomach.
“Jesus, go on mute then.”
“Yeah whatever, whatever. What else were you saying?”
Stirring the conversation away, you watch Harry drink in your appearance with hands feeling over your body. Tongue escapes to wet your lips as you raise up on your elbows, hand lifting the phone away from ear to put it on mute before you throw it onto the bed.
“Done playing games?” Harry questions as he takes himself into his hands, thighs shuffling amongst the bed to pat his cock along your puffy folds.
“Mhmm… want you to fuck me.” Spreading your legs wider as sight doesn’t stop looking at how thick he is.
“Yeah… you liked me eating your pussy while you're on the phone?” Words initiating a low whimper from your throat as your head nods along to answer. That look alone has the crown of his cock rest before your hole.
“Love my dick more than your boyfriend’s, huh?” He continues to egg on as he buries himself into his favorite place. He didn’t need an answer from you because the sight before him was already enough; heaving chest, brows frustratedly pushed together and cheeks all red and rosie. He's in love.
“Tell me baby, I wanna hear you.”
“Yes, Harry. Fuck.” A deep breath escapes your lungs as you look up at him, one hand situated along the duvet as the other runs down his tattoo arm. His beauty still captivates you till this day with the way he leans over and fits himself on top of you. His hair falling across your forehead while his big hands hold your body into the mattress. You’ll never get used to this beautiful sight. “Love your cock so much.”
Harry takes pride in those words. Your wet pussy surrounds him with tight walls stretching all over his pulsing dick. It drapes love all over him knowing your body and words correlate together always giving him his favorite answer; it’s why he moans lowly. Hips drawing out to begin thrusting back in steadily, letting it imprint in your mind just how good he feels stretching you out. Thick, heavy, and pressing against your lips snuggly, he wants you mesmerized and fascinated by the way he fills you up.
“Gonna put a baby in you.” His deep voice fans across your temple while his hips continue to drum against yours. Such a comment allows an array of butterflies to swirl in your stomach.
Of course, Harry would say something that hot and possessive while he fucks you into the sheets. Lengthy girth collecting with creamy slick that begins to cascade down the expanse of him. It’s clear you want it, from the hesitation in your breath to the slow bat of your lashes, you’ll do anything to have his seed buried in you.
“Fill you up and make you mine forever.” Harry continues as his hands leaves their position to hike your thighs up higher on the bed letting him slip deeper into your pussy.
“Want you to take my seed, every last drop of it.”
“H… you’re so deep.”
Head bobbing relentlessly to the way he’s fucking you to the point your feet dangle in the air. Harry is fucking you vigorously; sight transfixed over your pleasure filled face to your breasts bouncing to each rough thrust. A hungry groan escapes Harry at just the look alone, how enthralled and delighted you look at just him filling you up this way.
“Yeah… you like my dick?”
“I love it baby, love your cock so much.”
Your vision looking at how fat lips spread each time his balls press against your pussy while he tags your cervix repeatedly. This feeling was making you absolutely delirious; mouth opening and closing constantly, heart pounding along rib cage as pussy throbs with each stroke. You swear every time he slips in you fall deeper into ecstasy.
This whole entire situation is a twisted fucked up one but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Being split in half by Harry as he lies on top of you letting you feel every inch and say the dirtiest things to put you over the edge. You might as well be in heaven being pounded the way you are.
“My dirty fuckin’ girl.” Harry mumbles as body now sounds against yours. Sweat begins to cascade down and slither into every inch of skin that radiates how heated both of you are.
You’re so wrapped up in Harry and how he’s plowing you into the sheets that you’ve completely forgot Reid was on the phone — and it’s obvious to him that you forgot too because he’s now ringing down your phone hoping you pick up again. The persistent vibration of his calls are felt on the other side of the sheets but they’re easily drowned out by your moans filling the air.
“S’good baby, fuck me so good.” You slur as eyes peel open slowly with hands running up your sides to touch where Harry is holding you down.
“Mm…” His head swaying into yours swiftly consumed by how wet you feel as if he’s underwater. “Jesus, your pussy is amazing.”
Immediately you moan at his words before letting your neck crane forward and have his lips slot along yours. Spit exchanging and twirling along tongues hold your attention more than Reid ever could that the repetitive hum of your phone going off every few minutes isn’t even heard by the sobbing puddle of arousal dripping from your sex.
The heavy drag of Harry’s cock drumming into your pussy leaves endless whimpers to breathe into his mouth. Pitiful and needy is all that emits; it’s what your aura is filled with and Harry can’t get enough of it. Pussy wet and squelching every time he sinks further and further into your sweet cunt that he loves so much.
“Sh-Sh-” Words being cut off as your sight rolls and head slips deeper into pillows. You're dizzy off how Harry can fuck you like this every single time. More desperate, more hungry, more addicted, you could only take so much for so long till you start succumbing to the pinches crawling up your toes and digging nails into skin.
“Can’t wait to see how swollen your tits get.” His breath falls across your lips hotly that you whimper in response. Head nodding as sight grows heavy, captivated by his lewd words only further coercioning your climax. “Pretty pussy so needy for cum.”
“Harry.” You cry out pathetically has he begins fucking you with long, rough strides.
Your chest glows with hunger, waist twitching as his grip tightens itself along your thighs as he goes to sit up. Abdomen flexing, tattoos shining and body pouncing into yours; Harry is so hot — undeniably hot — and when he fucks you like it’s his last day on earth and whispers his most dirtiest thoughts in your ears it was only right for you to be falling apart.
“Look at you… begging for it.” Harry groans as he presses you further into the bed as if he could fold you even more. But, it was okay. Of course it was, his cock was satisfying your every need.
“Tell me baby, tell me you want my cum.” He lets his left hand leave your thigh to slap it dominantly earning a high pitch whine to leave your throat.
“Mm… please…” Your voice is filled with pleasure as your orgasm begins to tick all throughout your pelvis and jerking spine. “Want you to breed me, fill me with your seed.” Said so out of breath as your body continues to thump into the bed recklessly while Harry grunts into the heated space.
“Harry I’m gonna cum, fuck.” You whine as you feel tears begin to fold over your waterline, lips curling into your mouth as chest stutters letting the waves of your climax crash over you. “Oh my-”
But again, your words are cut off as he doesn’t stop fucking you. Nails tearing into skin letting tiny droplets of blood prickle amongst the surface, baby hairs sticking to temples and vision blurring in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t a surprise the next slip of words are incoherent mumbles and whispers, something that has Harry feening even more over.
“That’s right, cum on me while I use your pussy.” Such erotic whispers of his thoughts carry your knees further into your chest as you try to shy away from his rapid strokes. “I know you like it.” Continuing to egg you on as if you’re not already withering beneath him in pleasure. “Still letting me fuck you while your boyfriend is calling, don’t you want to pick up?”
Your head shakes disapprovingly as teeth sink into your bottom lip. He knows what he is doing with the quick smirk stretching over his lips to match his teasing words, he loves it just as much as you do by rubbing it in your face about how nasty your actions are to your long term boyfriend, and how he’s the one doing those very things.
“That’s my good girl… letting me use you.” Harry mutters as his head bows and lashes flutter, his cock continuing to let your pussy sound all along the four walls of the room further driving you up the wall.
“Gonna take my cum baby, huh? Want me to fill your pussy up?” His neck ventures towards you as his body completely cowers into yours, limbs stressing to relax repeatedly as you feel his balls twitch against your soaking lips.
“Please put a baby in me.” You whine as hips convulse around his own in the aftermath of your orgasm traveling through. “Please, Harry.”
“Want you to leave me full and round, know you’ll like that baby.” You breathe out shallowly as lungs gasp for fresh air burnt out from how hard he’s assaulting your pussy.
“Breed me baby, please? Please?”
And without hesitation Harry slams his hips into yours once more, a deep groan falling across the crook of your neck as he plasters himself on top of you. Slicky ropes of cum bury itself into your pussy mixing along with your own arousal as he begins cussing profusely.
Stuttering hips surrender to his tantalizing ones as he pulls out slowly before thrusting back in again. Small drips of his seed flowing out of your puffy folds and trailing down your ass cheeks as Harry fucks his nut into you.
“Take it all.” Whispering below your ear while placing a kiss along the skin there. “I love it when you take it all.”
You hum pleasantly, lashes clouding your vision as you nod your head along to his words. Fingers release from around him and draw up his arms feeling over his biceps to his shoulders and into his curls soaked in sweat.
“Gonna look so beautiful carrying my kid.” He says as his waist meets yours once more leaving you to shiver from the feel. He raises up from his spot, gaze all drowsy but filled with love as he doesn’t hesitate to lean forward and press his lips to yours.
Sweet loving kisses exchange in a passionate make out session as Harry continues to stroke himself slugglishy into your soiled cunt filled to the brim with his cum. The feeling of his cock sliding slowing down your walls expanding and bruising every inch with such grace was the most euphoric pleasure you know and you love so much that Harry pleases you so easily with it.
“You’re so good to me.” You hum against his lips as fingers tangle through his heep of hair. “Always good to me.”
And just like that you both are back in your own world. Peppering kisses along skin, sweaty touch roaming amongst clammy one just enthralled with each other and loving the peace you both bring.
You know eventually you’d have to call Reid and explain why you never picked up his call, but that’s just an excuse you’ll have to figure out for another time.
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Stubs!
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They are twins:3
@ambitiousauthor​
-- Ref by turukhan
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totheblood · 1 year
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I WISH I NEVER MET YOU.
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pairing: ex!ellie williams x reader
warnings: SUGGESTIVE mdni 18+... not sm*t but close... cursing, drinking, bitchy ellie
a/n: i love this song and was like wait... i need to write a fic based off of this song so i did that and i just love mean and spiteful ellie like... i apologize.. ai audios in the fic <3 reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.3k
"tryna forget the seven minutes we had in heaven."
The world was spinning.
Or that was what it felt like. The tequila you had downed earlier was now starting to mix with the joint you shared with Dina earlier on her front step. She had held the nearly finished stub in between her fingers and had her other hand tracing circles on the fleshy part of your thigh. It was all innocent as you laughed about the new job she had started and her weird coworker who had asked her out a few times. It was all innocent until she mentioned Ellie and how she said she was going to stop by later that night. 
It wasn’t a party, but it wasn’t not a party. A few of your friends had gathered at Dina and Cora’s new place, a housewarming party done their way. Inside a few friends had gathered around a table playing some card game and taking shots, but you needed some fresh air and Dina had followed you. From out here you could hear the faint music coming from inside, and the streetlights made Dina’s skin look golden, but it was still early and you were already fairly drunk. 
“She said she’s coming?” you confirmed, needing to double-check that Ellie agreed to be in the same room as you. 
“Yeah,” Dina coughed, taking a deep hit of the joint, the end glowing yellow and orange, “Said she feels bad about not coming around anymore.”
“Right,” you scoffed, grabbing the joint from her and taking a deep hit, closing your eyes as you blew out the smoke. 
“Can you not do that tonight?” Dina set her face up in a pout, eyes dramatically wide, “She’s finally getting over whatever this was and I just want us to be normal again.”
“I’m not doing anything,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter, “I tried to talk to her but she didn’t want to. Not my fault.”
“But isn’t it?” Dina started. She knew she was crossing a boundary she shouldn’t, but she was also tipsy and exhausted from the standoff you and Ellie had.
She wasn’t wrong, it was technically your fault. Months ago you were at a party gathering just like this, twice as drunk as you were right now. Some idiot, probably Cora, had suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven, just like you all had done in high school. No one in the room was sober, therefore everyone agreed. 
A circle was formed in the living room, everyone sitting with their legs criss-crossed on the floor, giggling and blushing like 10th graders. One couple had decided to sit it out and watch the game from the couch. Two seats to your left sat Ellie, hair pulled back into a loose bun and her face already a bright red. She never was your closest friend, but she was still someone you talked to often. You’d occasionally Facetime, send each other TikToks, and sit next to each other if the group went out for dinner. But you were not her best friend, and she definitely wasn’t yours.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about her often. She had this girlish charm that usually translated as awkwardness and she would always make jokes under her breath, just loud enough for only you to hear them. You didn’t notice how red she got whenever she made you laugh like she had just won the world’s biggest prize. But besides that, she was cute. Really cute, and perpetually single. The group would often make jokes asking why she never dated anyone, and she would just make some comment about how she was waiting for the ‘right one’. Her eyes would always flicker over to you when she said that.
But this night, when she spun the bottle and it landed on you she nearly choked. You looked up at her with your doe eyes, those fucking eyes, she thought, and she nearly lost it. Everyone was laughing, clapping, and hollering at the idea of the two of you being locked in a dim closet for 7 minutes. 
“We don’t have to…” She started, preparing herself for rejection, “if you’re not comfortable.”
“Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”
Click. 
The door locked the two of you inside the tiny room. This close to you she could smell you. She could smell the liquor coming off of you in waves mixing with vanilla perfume. There was just enough light for her to make out your features, the tip of your nose, and the crease in between your eyebrows. From this close, she could see everything.
“So…” her voice faltered, nervousness seeping into her tone, “what do we do?”
“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you whispered back, your voice immediately sending a flood to her pants.
“Do you want me to?” She whispered back, eyes searching your face and landing on your lips. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, before nodding. Fuck. She took a shaky breath, her calloused fingers grazing the open skin of your waist. Her fingers were cold but your body ran hot, you were unsure if it was the alcohol or her having this effect on you. Her fingertips curled inwards, pulling you closer to her.
You were now chest to chest, both of you heavy breathing despite not having kissed yet. You were so close that she could feel your heartbeat and your tits. She gripped you a little bit harder causing you to groan. It was all so painfully slow, each movement dragged out. She dipped her head down, her lips now just hovering over yours making your eyelids flutter closed. You could feel her smile before she kissed you, as slow and languid as her movements were before.
Her lips were soft, tongue peeking through and grazing your teeth, urging them open. She was kissing your like her life depended on it. Your hands gripped at her neck, trying to pull her closer but she stumbled forward pushing you into the shelf. 
“Fuck,” she breathed in between a wet kiss, “you okay?” 
“Mhm,” You hummed. Her hand moved down now, ghosting your ass before giving it a light squeeze and lifting your thigh up so she could get even closer. If it kept going like this she was going to be inside of you within minutes. She pushed closer, her clothed cunt griding up against yours, causing you to gasp.
“Feel good?” She teased, now moving to kiss up your jaw when- 
Click.
The two of you separated, hands smoothing out your clothes as the door opened. It was obvious what had happened, a little bruise had formed on your jaw where she had kissed, and she was now wearing lipstick she didn’t come to the party wearing. 
That night you went home with her. 
You shuddered thinking of that night, not knowing it was the beginning of the end. Whatever relationship you had with her was now ruined, and it was your fault. You spent nights crying over how much of your fault it was, but that wouldn’t change anything. You ended things, and Ellie wanted nothing to do with you now. 
“I guess,” you shrugged, “but people break up every day Dina. People move on.”
It was Dina’s turn to scoff as she snatched the tiny joint back from you, “You don’t move on that easily when you’re in love with someone.”
“She was not in love with me,” you rolled your eyes again, your high making you feel anger more than anything now.
“Oh, so you’re just fucking stupid,” Dina deadpanned, taking another hit, giggling as you shoved her playfully.
“Oh, fuck you,” you laughed, trying to keep your real emotions at bay. 
“Can’t,” she laughed, blowing smoke out her nose, “Ellie would probably murder me.”
The conversation wasn’t productive, but you didn’t want to be on the front step when Ellie arrived. You feared that if she saw you, she probably wouldn’t even come to the door, let alone inside. You honestly missed her, and you were beginning to forget what she even sounded like. 
Thirty minutes had passed and you started nursing your third drink, playing beer pong in the backyard when you noticed a familiar sound. Her laugh, over everything, was the only thing you heard. 
“Oh, um I have to use the bathroom,” you excused yourself running up the stairs and straight into the kitchen where Ellie was now alone, getting a drink from the fridge. She obviously didn’t see you come in, or thought you were Dina because she was speaking. 
“You only bought Truly’s,” she scoffed from the fridge, “fucking lame.” 
“Still better than a Four Loko,” you joked. You watched her pause, her whole body stiffening before standing up straight and closing the door. She stared at the refrigerator so she didn’t have to look at you. You watched her chest rise and fall as she took deep breaths. 
“What do you want?” Her tone was much colder now, her voice icy and mean. 
“Just wanted to say hi,” your voice was small, you hated yourself for it.
“Well, don’t,” she shook her head, turning to the counter now, the hard liquor lined up in front of her. She picked up vodka, bad choice.
“Can we just-” you stepped next to her, voice in a whisper loud enough she could hear. She tensed up as you stood close to her and you hated the position you were in. 
“No, we can’t,” She shook her head, pulling a red solo cup from its place on the counter and pouring the vodka in the cup, “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“But-”
“No fucking ‘buts’. You don’t get everything you want, okay?” She looked at you now, her green eyes now accompanied by dark circles. Her freckles were more prominent with summer finally coming to an end. She looked tired, but still beautiful, “You’re so fucking selfish.”
“I’m selfish because I couldn’t date you?” You laughed bitterly, that third drink hitting you like a bag of bricks, “That’s real rich considering you’re the one who’s been an asshole to me because you can’t fuck me anymore.”
She looked pissed. Her hands gripped the sides of the counter as she looked down at it, trying to stop herself from doing what she wanted to. Instead, she downed the vodka, not even flinching.
“No one wants to fuck you,” she looked at you, eyes glossed over, “and you’re the one who dumped me over text like a fucking coward.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“I’m an asshole to you because I want to make it perfectly clear I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to fuck you, I don’t want to see you, and I definitely don’t want to hear any sob story about how you ‘couldn’t’ do it. You’re a pathetic loser who broke up with me over text on our 6 month anniversary.”
“Ellie,” a voice from behind you caused you both to turn around. You wiped at the tears rolling down your face, “What the fuck?”
It was Dina, standing with her arms crossed as she watched you two in disappointment. You ran off pushing past her and into the bathroom, crying pathetically on the toilet and blowing your nose in the toilet paper. Back in the kitchen Dina had approached Ellie, an eyebrow raised as if she was waiting for an answer. 
“She just,” Ellie poured another cup, “she gets under my fucking skin, okay?”
“But talking to her like that?” She shook her head in shame, “What’s gotten into you?”
“She has!” Ellie replied, “That shit fucking hurt, okay? And I let her get away with it at first because I loved her but all she thinks is that I’m mad because I can’t fuck her. I’m over it.”
“She’s just saying that,” Dina’s voice was now more tender as she talked to Ellie, “she misses you and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”
“She doesn’t fucking miss me,” Ellie downed the second cup.
“You just tell yourself that because you wouldn’t know how to feel if it was true.”
“If she missed me she wouldn’t have done that,” Ellie sighed.
“Not everything is black and white,” Dina sighed looking to the side. “Just try to get over it before the trip. It’s a really big deal to Cora and I don’t want it to be a mess because you both are so miserable.”
“I don’t think I can come, D,” Ellie shook her head, fingers tapping on the counter, “Not like this, not with her.”
“Ellie, please don’t do this,” Dina held her shoulders, her eyes wide and sad. Ellie had a soft spot for Dina, which was the only reason she came to the housewarming party, but she was unsure of how much she would take before she snapped. 
“Fine,” she sighed, “but I’ll be driving by myself. I’m not sitting in a two-hour-long car ride with her.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dina squeezed Ellie tight, making her groan and attempt to push her off. 
---
The trip came sooner than expected, the party being nearly a month ago. You drove down with Dina and Cora, singing Lana songs the whole drive. The Hamptons were quiet around this time and Cora (and her rich family) owned a vacation house out there on the water. You spent nearly every summer here, you, Dina, Cora, Ellie, Jesse, Faye, and Cora’s twin brother, Orion all crammed into their giant house. Except this time was different. This was the trip that Dina and Cora were going to announce their engagement. 
No one knew yet, and Dina had wanted your little group of friends to be the first to know. A special intimate moment between the group and the place it had started. However, when you pulled up to the house, driving up the long driveway, you saw Ellie’s jeep parked out front with her and some girl leaning against the side of the car. 
You all hopped out, but you stood to the side as you watched Dina and Cora hug Ellie and this new girl. 
“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind,” Ellie spoke, eyes drifting to yours for a moment before she smirked, “this is my girlfriend, June.”
Fuck.
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http-tokki · 11 months
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my fucking elbow!
~ levi ackerman x reader ~ tags/cw: fluff, explicit language, established relationships, canonverse. ~wc: 530
The piercing howl that rips from your throat has Levi jumping into action. Springing over his desk and across the small office, he is in the dim kitchenette a second after the cry left you. He pants as he searches for you, eyes frantically darting around the room, heartbeat quickening with each passing second until he spots you crumpled in on yourself, arms wrapped around your shaking frame, fingers gripping your elbows.
"What's happening, why are you? What's wrong?" The words spill out of him, an unfiltered stream of concern flowing between his lips.
Levi reaches you, dropping to his knees on the hard tile and grips your shoulders. He tears you upright, panic flooding his bloodstream in a cold flash. Tears line your eyes, eyebrows furrowed in pain, and teeth gritted as you hiss.
"My fucking elbow."
Levi blinks slowly, pulling away from you as the realisation sets in.
"I hit my elbow, and it really hurts." You're crying now, fat tears spilling over your cheeks as you rub your aching joint.
Levi sits back on his haunches, a smile cracking at the absurdity. You, a decorated war hero and veteran, had just screamed and carried on as if you had been fatally wounded. He had seen you rip an arrow from your thigh, patch together your slashed arm, reposition your dislocated knee without so much as a cry, and now a knock to your elbow had you seizing up and crying?!
"Stop laughing! It hurts!" you whine, weakly kicking at your laughing husband.
"I'm not laughing at you; it's just the situation," he explains, pushing your hair back from your face. "I've seen your experience worse, and this is the injury that brings you down?" it is impossible to keep the laughter from infiltrating his every word. "I'm sorry. Are you okay, my love?"
You sniff and turn away from him, still cradling your arms and sigh loudly. "You're so mean. I hope you hurt your elbow, and when you cry about this, I'll laugh at you, too!" A giggle slips through your offended facade.
Levi stands, knees popping and aching at the move against gravity and snorts at your dramatics. "I'm going to be so careful now to not hit my elbow, and you'll never get to laugh at me!"
The exchange is childish, but it feels good; it feels natural to laugh and tease in light of the world around you. These moments are few and far between, but when they do happen, you are grateful to see a side of your lover you rarely do these days. You watch as Levi turns away, walking back into his office to finish the work he had abandoned in favour of your safety, and once he is out of sight, you turn your attention back to your bruised arm. The tingling and pain have subsided, a small purple bloom, the only remnant of the torture your nervous system was under not two seconds ago; you poke the small mark to test the level of pain you would feel if you were to hit it again but are interrupted by Levi's scream from the room over.
"I just stubbed my fucking toe!"
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a/n: i got to see my baby again for one last time ahhhh I lub him s much I wanna cry please levi become real and let me love you
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hyunverse · 9 days
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welcome home ★ hwang hyunjin.
hyunjin x gn!reader. fluff, drabble. no warnings.
wc: 600 words.
Hyunjin renovates your new home for you, ensuring each detail is tailored to your liking.
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"Watch your steps."
Carefully, Hyunjin guides you around the house, one hand clasped against your eyes, the other resting on your waist.  You could feel the cold tiles beneath your feet, and how it is slightly dusty from the month-long renovations. 
"Careful, don't want you to stub your toe," Hyunjin says, eliciting a small chuckle from you.
Hyunjin walks you through the house, until at one point (you couldn't tell where in the house), he stops. 
"One, two..." he whispers, and you can feel the smile on his face, "...Three. Surprise!"
Hyunjin drops his hand, watching as you take in the sight before you. You're standing in front of the newly renovated kitchen, its appearance far different than the last time you saw it. 
"Oh my god," you breathe out, "What the hell, Hyunjin?"
The walls of the kitchen had been renovated to your liking, the boring brick walls transformed into green marble tiles. The countertop looks like one from your dreams — straight from the house of Monet. All you could do is gasp.
"You like it?" Hyunjin questions, placing a hand on the small of your back.
"Sweetheart, I love it," you whisper. He smiles, content with the perplexed look on your face. 
"I love it," you repeat, roaming around the kitchen with Hyunjin following you like a lost puppy. "I really love it, Hyune."
“I’m happy you do, baby.”
You rummage through the drawers, trailing your pointer against every surface you could touch. All the furniture, even the kitchen cookware sets, was designed according to your preferences — as though Hyunjin had the same mind as yours. Frankly, it’s like your Pinterest board has come to life. 
What you’re unaware of is that indeed, Hyunjin had spent weeks stalking you on Pinterest. His urges of “pleeaaaaseee update your Pinterest boards,” weren’t for nothing. 
"Wait, need to show you this," your fiancee interrupts, taking your hand to lead you to a cabinet. 
He gently opens the cabinet, revealing a spice rack. The spice rack you've always wanted — he knows because he remembers the few times you've mentioned it — is sitting right inside the cabinet. 
“Holy fuck, Hyune,” you mutter, turning your head to him with your mouth agape, “It’s the fucking Lenox Spice Village that I wanted!”
“Yeah,” he giggles, a sense of pride bubbling in him. He lets out a small “oof,” when you throw yourself onto him, engulfing him into a tight hug.
“I love it so much, baby. I really love it.”
“Really?” he giggles, holding you tightly, “You haven’t even seen the bedroom.” 
Hyunjin leads you to the bedroom, then the bathroom, the living room — and lastly, an office. The space in the office had been divided into two, one-half works as his art corner, and the other serves as a study for you. The desk is exactly to your liking, a space designated for you to indulge in your hobbies.
There’s a peg board above your desk — with magnets from the cities you’ve travelled to, and polaroids from your dates with Hyunjin. A memento for all the memories you’ve made with him. 
It all feels like home. 
“It’s really perfect,” you exhale, standing by the desk with an awestruck face. “You know me so well, Hyune.”
“I do?” he mutters, a small smile gracing his face. He inches closer to you, his breath fanning against your neck. A kiss is cheekily placed on your cheek. “I just wanted you to feel at home.”
“And I do,” you whisper, looking up at him. “I feel at home. When you said to move in with you, I didn’t expect for all of this, you know?”
Hyunjin smiles, cupping your face with a tenderness you never thought you would deserve. Soft, akin to the breeze that graces your face every midnight. 
A contrast to his touch, his next words kicks the air out of you.
“Welcome home.”
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thehusbandoden · 6 months
Text
Ice Cream Thief -Husband!Bakugo Katsuki x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
A/n: I don't simp for Bakugo, so pls let me know if his scratched your itch.
General info:
Genre: fluff/crack/comfort \\ wc: 312 \\ fem reader \\ posted: 03/15/24
Summary: you are having a terrible time. Your baby kept you awake all night kicking, you stubbed your foot on the stupid nightstand, and Bakugo has been working almost twenty-four-seven. The one thing you’ve been craving all month is ice cream... but you come out to find it eaten. With the carton still. In. The. Freezer.
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“Bakugo Katsuki!” You call from the kitchen, seething with rage.  
“What do ya want, woman?” He calls back from the living room.  
“Don’t you ‘woman’ me! Get in here before I make you!”  
“Oh give me a break.” He grumbles, walking into the kitchen to see what you were yapping about. His eyes flicker to the empty carton of ice cream... and he realizes he’s in trouble.  
“What. Happened. To. My. Ice. Cream.” You growl, a hand on your swollen belly. The one thing you’ve been craving all month is ice cream. Your baby kept you awake all night kicking, you stubbed your foot on the stupid nightstand, and Bakugo has been working almost twenty-four-seven. This was the last thing you needed, the straw that broke your self restraint.  
“I’ll just buy you mo-”  
“Katsuki! Why did you have to leave the carton in the freezer?! My heart just tore itself apart! I needed that!”  
“It’s like nine in the mor-”  
“I need *something* to calm me down Katsuki! Why did you have to eat it?! Not only that but you left the carton in the freezer! And now I-” tears of frustration bubble in your eyes, your hormones are going haywire, and Bakugo can see that.  
Warm muscular arms wrap around your soft form. Bakugo brings you to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you slowly begin to calm down.  
You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your beloved. “Ice cream thief.” You scoff, looking up at your tsundere husband. He smirks down at you, pecking your nose.  
“I’ll buy you more, okay? Stop whinin’.” You huff, but don’t respond as you bury your face in his warm chest.  
You sigh in relief, knowing that out of everything and anything- yes, even your beloved ice cream- you craved your beloved husband’s tender touch above all else.  
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