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#and spread the word around because something is NOT right here
mariasont · 2 days
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you should do more aaron hotchner x reader but they get drunk together and they just have a make out session or something 🤫🤫
Strawberry Wine - A.H
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a/n: i took this the bimbo reader route because i'm slightly obsessed with them lately so i hope you don't mind <3
thank you so much for requesting xoxo
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
summary: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him
warnings: kind of suggestive?, flirty hotch, making out, mutual pining
wc: 0.9k
You were vaguely aware of the dizzy sensation taking hold, your steps a little unsteady, cheeks a little more flushed. Penelope's voice, usually so clear, now sound like she was yelling from afar, her excitement over a new cooking show barely registering with you. It all faded into the background as your focus narrowed on one person alone--your boss.
Concentrating on something else was the logical choice, but logic seemed to falter in the face of such distraction. I mean, you had eyes after all.
He looked exceptionally good tonight. Jeans. He was wearing jeans and a zip up. His casual look held an irresistibility about it that you rarely got to appreciate, and now it's all you can dwell on. You could easily blame your preoccupation on a few drinks, but in all honesty, you'd be just as enthralled sober.
Your name was floating through the air, and as you turned, you saw Morgan. His grin was wide, the kind that told you he'd been trying to catch your attention for longer than you'd realized.
His eyebrows lifted, bumping against you with a shoulder as he waggled those same eyebrows. So childish. You knew what he was referring to. He was the first one to catch on to your little crush, but despite his behavior you knew he'd never divulge your secret. 
You nudged him back, not realizing your own strength until you were almost toppling over. You only found your footing when you felt hands on your waist. You leaned back, assuming it was Morgan. You were wrong. 
"You okay?" His voice was soft and low, a soothing sound that tempted you to both lean into him and step back in a fluster.
You glanced around, only to realize that Morgan had disappeared, leaving you with Hotch. You clamped your lips together, fighting the urge to let a stupid smile spread across your face, but the wine's influence made it challenging.
"Yes."
The room spun just a tad more as you tried to focus on Hotch, his usually sharp gaze softened just a bit more tonight. 
He chuckled--a rare, perfect sound that made you tingly all over--and leaned closer. "The wine seems to be doing its job. How many glasses in are we?"
You giggled, but the sound was more like a hiccup. "I should be asking you that," you said with a lopsided smile. "But then again, I guess I mean glasses of scotch, right? You seem like a scotch over wine kind of guy."
"Do I?" His voice was rich and warm. He stepped forward, his eyes briefly flickering to where the rest of the team congregated in Rossi's kitchen. However, they seemed miles away. "You smell good."
His compliment threw you off guard, you blinked, cheeks heating up as you swayed slightly towards him, voice a bubbly stream of words you couldn't control. "You think so? It's actually this new perfume--I got it on sale, can you believe it? And the bottle is just the cutest thing, all pink and pretty."
"I bet." He was smirking. Smirking. You were pretty sure you had stumbled into an alternate reality where Hotch was not just your boss, but someone who was relaxed, almost flirtatious? 
"Here," you said, pointing to the middle of your chest. You were a little breathless, "this is where I spray it."
He gave a low hum, almost inaudible, stepping in until you were toe to toe. You caught the hint of scotch on his breath--just as you had suspected--and it made the room spin a little more. 
His face moved down toward your chest, and you couldn't hardly believe that he couldn't hear your heart pounding against your ribs. 
You inhaled sharply, the valley of your breasts rising to graze against his nose, so lightly that it might have gone unnoticed if not for your intense focus on him. 
"What do you think--?" you started to ask, but as he raised his head, your noses were nearly touching, and the rest of your sentence dissolved.
The realization of how easy it would be to kiss him struck you, tempting and terrifying all at one, and you hesitated, knowing that was one line you shouldn't cross.
But you didn't need to cross it because he obliterated the line with a kiss that thundered against your lips before you could even blink. A smile bloomed against his mouth, and you returned it full force.
It was as if you were tingly from head to toe, like fireworks were exploding all around you, like you were floating on a cloud.
You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as if the space between you could vanish entirely. You felt his broad hands sweep and down your spine, your tongues vying for dominance, the rich, smoky taste of that scotch lingering in your mouth, as if you were absorbing its essence through every five senses.
It was as if you were back in high school, making out under the bleachers, hiding from the rest of your classmates. You didn't want it to end, but reality intruded like a dream dispelled.
The click of a camera snapped you back to the present, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, hands on the damning evidence.
Gathered at the window there the team was, Garcia's fingers curled around her phone, its lens aimed squarely at you. Your surprised came out as a high-pitched squeal mingled with their distance laughter and cheers. You pressed your face into the fabric of Hotch's zip up, silently pleading for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.
"Next time, we'll opt for the bathroom. Less room for an audience."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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cjrights · 2 days
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prologue: so blue - paige bueckers
prev ➔ next blue masterlist. my masterlist.
lyric: “i try to live in black and white but im so blue”
pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader
warnings: language, mention of alcohol
an: hi my lovesss this is me trying to lock in and commit to something!! ive had a lot of fun planning this out so hopefully i can execute the plan i have in my head :) enjoy this because its downhill from here 💙
word count: 500
your sobs are muffled by the loud music blasting outside of the bathroom door.
“please open the door. talk to me.”
you’re sitting on the floor with your head in your hands.
“i know you hear me. i can hear you crying.”
your makeup which was done to perfection less than 30 minutes ago was now ruined. there’s mascara streaming down your face.
“im gonna kick down the fucking door if you don’t open it right now.”
you groan and sniffle as you shout through the door.
“just leave me here to die. no one loves me”
you can hear the eye roll through the wall. “don’t say that, that’s not true. i love you. please open the door kiddo.”
your heart beats a little faster at the nickname. she’s called you this for years, what’s any different now?
you crawl over to the door and open it. towering over you is your best friend, paige bueckers. as soon as she sees you on the ground, she kneels and takes your face in her hands. “oh sweet girl.” she whispers, frowning. she runs the pads of her thumbs over your damp cheeks. “what happened? who’s ass am i beating?”
your breath hitches at her touch and the protective gesture. nonetheless, you shake your head. “no. no one’s ass needs to be beat.” you sniffle and sigh shakily. “take me home p. please?” paige nods and holds out her hand, smiling softly. you take this opportunity to look her in her big blue eyes, admiring the way her blonde hair falls perfectly over her shoulders. the way her smile is so contagious it’s spreading to your face, and-
“hello? anyone home?” paige says, breaking you out of your trance. you clear your throat and take her hand. “yeah, sorry. fuck. it’s been a long day.” she pulls you up, causing you to stand fully. paige is pretty tall being around 6’0, but you have about an inch on her. you make sure to never let her forget it, patting her on the head.
paige glances up at you and smiles. “let’s go kiddo.” she never disconnects your hands, guiding you out of the bathroom. you try to cover your face, not wanting to show anyone at the lame ass party yall were at that you’d been crying.
you both make it outside and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. paige looks over at you. “you feel better?” you nod. “a little, yeah. thank you for being here.”
she opens the passenger door of her car when yall arrive to it. “of course im here. you’re my best friend.” you smile, but for some reason your heart breaks a little at that statement.
what the fuck is happening to me right now?
im drunk. im drunk.
you and paige both get in the car and she turns on the ignition. “okay. tell me what happened. every single detail.” paige says, simultaneously putting the car into drive.
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new-revenant · 2 days
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Alright! Time to share all of what I have of the 4th chapter. It’s not much, but hey, it’s something. Here is the Ao3 link to the other 3 chapters. And unfortunately, the story is on indefinite hiatus because I just. Couldn’t do it ha, got overwhelmed and majorly burnt out. Anyhow, hope you enjoy what I do have. 872 words.
Edit: Opps! Forgot to tag you haha @bianca-hooks123
When Danny woke up, he was surprised at how refreshed he felt. He really hasn’t a good night’s sleep in a while, huh. His body didn’t ache, his left arm finally felt normal, and the bruises he had were gone. If not for still being trapped in his ghost form, he would’ve been having the time of his life!
As he sat up, Danny noticed that his tray of food was unfortunately gone. But, he now had a new tray of food, breakfast edition! It still had the same mix of human and Tamaranean on it, which was nice. His water bottle was refilled, accompanied by a cup of strawberry milk right next to it.
Danny quickly set out to eat all of the food, like eating the dry cereal and then drinking the entirety of the milk right after, as God intended. He didn’t eat as fast as he did last night-er, before he fell asleep. He honestly had no idea what time it was, and couldn’t see a clock nearby. A clock.
Clockwork.
Danny had to stop eating for a moment, trying to calm down the rage that was beginning to simmer. It’ll all be fine, everything back home would be fine, he just needs to pass whatever this test is and punch Clockwork in the face, then he’d be good to go. But what about this universe? Would he be able to go back here? Would he need to? Would he want to?
Danny shook his head, “No time to worry about that,” he muttered to himself, “Just eat your food, and read this note you just noticed was here.”
Danny picked up the note that he must’ve missed because he was too focused on the food. It was not written in English, or had any letters he was familiar with, and he was pretty sure spoken English here was the same as it was in his universe. It was most likely in one of the written languages of Tamaraneans, since everyone-expect Batman-thought he was a Tamaranean.
Danny flipped the note around, hoping for an English translation. The back of the note had more writing, but it was still in Tamaranean. Well that sucked. Now he has to find someone to read the note, and considering the note’s in Tamaranean, it was probably from either Starfire or Nightwing, maybe saying that they were off doing stuff. Even if Danny couldn’t read it, he did have a half-decent intuition!
With a sigh, Danny put the note back down and decided to finish his breakfast. It was so good, definitely better than anything his parents cooked for him. Who would definitely be okay if Nocturn was to be believed. Wait, was Nocturn telling the truth? Danny shook his head again, he had to believe Nocturn, for the sake of his own sanity.
Once Danny finished his food, he got out of the bed, and looked around the infirmary. He noticed three things; one, there was a clock in here and showed that it was 3 o’clock-whether it was AM or PM he didn’t know, two, someone else was in infirmary, and three, there was a box right in front of his bed.
First things first, the person in the bed was someone he hasn’t seen yet, with white, giant wings on their back. They looked they were in pain and was hooked up to something. They were already awake and was looking over at Danny.
“Ah, hello there kid,” they said with a small wave, “I’m Hawkgirl, glad you’re feeling better. Heard you weren’t in such a good state when you came in here.”
“Well, this is the infirmary,” Danny joked, “But I think I just used up too much energy.”
“Didn’t you also fall hundreds of feet from the sky?”
“Wow news spreads fast here huh? I healed pretty quickly from that though.”
“If you count being asleep for two days fast, then yes, you have.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been asleep for how many days?” Danny couldn’t believe it, two days? That means he’s already been gone for…two minutes back home so he probably didn’t need to worry about that.
“You’ve been asleep for two days,” Hawkgirl’s voice held a pinch of sadness as she spoke, “I wish I could convert Earth days to Tamaranean days, but I don’t know the conversion rate. Starfire might, but she’s on-world right now.”
“It’s okay. Also do you um, know how to read this?” Danny showed her his note, “I can’t read.”
Hawkgirl inhaled sharply, with Danny already knowing what she was going to say and he groaned.
“Yeah yeah you don’t know either, it’s fine,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, “Uh, newtopicnewtopic…how are you doing? Got injured in a fight?”
“Unfortunately, yes, I have,” Hawkgirl sighed, “This strange, ghost-like creature managed to mess up some of my internal-“
“Wait a minute, er-sorry for interrupting you but did you say ghost? Like the see-through dead guys?”
“I’m unsure, Batman is looking into it. Oh, and he left that box of clothes for you not too long ago.”
“Ah, that’s what the box was for. Well, I’m going to wander around this spaceship-thing until I find a place to change.”
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pshcomforts · 4 hours
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➳ spring snow | psh.
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bestfriend!sunghoon x fem!reader
“cause i’m falling slowly in love with you”
synopsis: you became sick, and your best friend, sunghoon, has offered to take care of you.
warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff! tiny bit of angst. best friends to lovers. a little bit of idiots in love. nicknames like ‘idiot’ ‘dummy’ and ‘loser’ used. down bad sunghoon <3
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 4.6k
a/n: self-indulgent bc i’m sick right now, and currently obsessed with lovely runner </3
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
current song playing: spring snow by 10cm
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
0:39 ───|──────────────── 2:42
a cough erupted out of y/n as she fought for her life. her nose was stuffy, and her throat was aching from the cold she randomly caught.
she heavily sighed, cursing to herself for missing an important lecture.
“i should’ve gone..,” she softly whimpered.
as she fumed a little longer, a sudden notification had caught her attention.
sunghoon <3:
Where are you?
Are you running late?
panic spread across her face when she read her best friends texts, quickly typing back with quiet coughs leaving her throat.
y/n:
sorry, hoon! i’m actually not feeling good so i decided to skip the lecture for today…
sunghoon <3:
Are you lying, or are you really sick?
y/n:
why would i lie to you about this..
sunghoon <3:
So you don’t have to hear my scolding? 😒
y/n:
i swear, sunghoon, i’m sick! do you want me to send an audio of me coughing or something..
sunghoon <3:
.. No
the girl breathed out a laugh once she found no more texts from him. she widely grinned as she thought about the handsome boy, easily imagining his displeased look in her head.
her heart fluttered and butterflies erupted in her stomach. she fisted her hands to stop the sensations forming around her body as she shook it off.
“stop it, y/n, he’s just a friend.” she murmured to herself, unable to make the imaginary hoon in her head disappear.
“this cold is really getting to me…,”
y/n huffed out a sigh before wrapping herself in her warm blankets.
“maybe a nap will do..,” her voice squeaked, body already falling on borderline exhaustion. she yawned out a little more before resting her eyes and eventually knocking out.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
about a half hour had just passed and the girl was still sound asleep when a few knocks had been heard at the door.
she grumbled out a sigh before checking the time.
“who’d even be here at this time?” she sighed, still finding the sun brightly beaming down on every view she could find.
the knocks had been heard again and she quickly checked to see if anything could be related to whatever was outside. indeed, she found a few missed texts from her beloved friend.
sunghoon <3:
Open the door
Are you asleep??
Hello..?
she exhaled a breath as her stomach flooded with nervous bubbles.
“why is he here..?” she muttered under her breath.
the girl dusted herself, and though she was sure she still looked like a train wreck, she couldn’t be too bothered with how much her sickness took over.
she slowly cracked the door open and found an adorable sunghoon patiently waiting.
“finally!” he shouted. “took you long enough, i was almost gonna call you.”
maybe not that patient.
y/n scrunched her brows in confusion. “why are you even here, hoon?”
his heart slightly dropped at her questioning, but he only nervously laughed it away.
“you’re sick, dummy. you need to be taken care of.” sunghoon murmured, pinching one side of her cheeks.
she quickly swatted the hand away as she still remained puzzled.
“you’re gonna take care of me?” her voice mumbled, causing him to shyly nod. “but you never do this..?”
hoon only sighed as he joked, “well do you want me to leave? because i still can.”
“no, no.. i’m just a little shocked right now.”
y/n’s heart was about to burst. he was fueling her delusions about the potential thought of them being together, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.
she heard him give a chuckle when he set his backpack down. “i care about you, y/n. are you that shocked?” his simple grin sent heart throbs, making her tired body tingle even more.
“well you always tease and make fun of me so.. yeah, i’m shocked.”
the girl sniffed away her snot that ran down from her cold as he laughed again.
“don’t be too surprised that i’m a caring person.” sunghoon uttered, shaking his head while hiding his huge smile away. “i’m usually nice to you anyway.”
y/n guffawed out a scoff, sending a soft smack towards his arm as she muttered, “yeah right! you weren’t nice when i asked for the lecture notes 40 minutes ago, and you said no!”
the male giggled as he thought back to their texts, heart melting at his friends stuffy voice. “well who told you to stay home? that lecture was really important!” he teased back, lips instantly curling at her gasp and eye roll.
“if you’re just here to bicker with me then please leave, hoon. i’m too sick to argue.” she huffed, shaking her head.
“okay, okay, fine, i’m sorry.” he slightly pouted, causing her to softly smile. “i really am here to take care of you though.”
sunghoon ruffled her hair, letting it run messy everywhere as his eyes twinkled in the scene of his friend struggling to leave his teasing act. his lips coiled again, unable to hide his facial expressions with how much he adored her.
“sunghoon!” the girl yelled, pushing his hand away.
his heart pounded at the sound of his name leaving her lips, making him stop the ruffles.
“your friend is sick and you’re really doing this to her!”
hoon chuckled at her words before the word — ‘friend’ — hit him. his heart stung a little and he retracted himself back, officially putting a stop to all of the teasings as y/n still huffed with hair pieces around her face.
“can i go back to sleep now?” she mumbled, throat immediately running dry.
sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head while replying, “what’s the point of me being here if you’re just gonna sleep?”
“you volunteered to be here!”
“exactly, which is why you need to stay out here while i reheat my moms soup for you!”
the girl wore a frown, but her stomach betrayed her when it rumbled at the mention of food, causing her friend to chortle out a laugh.
“see? your stomach wants me to stay.”
he wore a shit eating grin, making y/n playfully roll her eyes and nudge him. “now go stay on the couch, i’ll reheat it up for you.” he sweetly muttered like a boyfriend.
her heart instantly raced and a few coughs suddenly bursted from her as the thought of him being a well-mannered boyfriend flooded her mind.
“get a hold of yourself, idiot.” she said under her breath.
“did you say something??”
her head whipped up at sunghoon and she quickly shook her head. “no! um.. just don’t burn my kitchen down… please.. i know you suck at cooking.”
he scoffed out a ridiculed laugh. “it’s just reheating soup, how bad can that get?”
bad, because within seconds, the boy let the pot heat up on the stove too long, making the cold soup instantly smoke up when he added it in.
the alarms rang off the hook and y/n’s ears rang like crazy; and if that wasn’t enough, sunghoons deep voice screaming at the steam was the cherry on top.
“sunghoon!!” she shouted, giving a faint scold as she fanned beneath her smoke detectors.
his cheeks flushed and his ears instantly became red while he stood in the kitchen like a six year old getting yelled at.
“sorry…,” his soft voice murmured, feeling self-conscious with the way he embarrassed himself in front of his friend.
“i didn’t know there was a time limit with how long the pot had to heat up…,”
y/n huffed out a sigh, instantly dropping her slight annoyance when she came face to face with the boy who was softly pouting. a laugh escaped from her and she only shook her head.
“you’re an idiot, you know that?” she joked, causing a faint grin to be placed on him. “of course it’s gonna smoke when you leave it on high heat for 10 minutes.”
“stop it, y/n… i’m embarrassed, you don’t have to acknowledge what i did wrong.” sunghoon covered his face with his hands, blocking off every facial feature but his ears that were still brightly colored red.
the girl chuckled, grin widening as her sickness almost left her when he remained shy in his actions.
“i don’t know if i should trust you in my kitchen ever again..,”
hoon rolled his eyes and smiled. “okay, it wasn’t even that bad!”
“you literally set off my smoke alarms!”
“okay.. but nothing caught on fire!”
y/n shook her head, hearty coughs still leaving her throat as she heaved her chest up and down.
“you were supposed to take care of me, but stressed me out instead!”
he seethed air through his teeth in guilt, head low while he chewed on his lips. “sorry…,” the male muttered. “i swear i was trying so hard not to do anything that’d make you get up!”
she laughed at his words and replied, “that’s sweet of you, hoon, but you did.”
“i know…, i’m still embarrassed.”
he placed his hands over his face once more, but peeked his eyes through separated fingers to catch her reaction. y/n wore a huge smile, eyes creasing into half moon crescents that caused butterflies to flutter in his stomach.
he softened his gaze once he felt it and they instantly twinkled with a deep warmth that was only for her.
the remaining words that spewed out of the girl had quickly been deafened as he continued to stare at her, making her snap at him — “sunghoon?? did you even hear me?”
“oh.. um… yes!” he tried to cheese a grin, but she obviously wasn’t convinced.
“and what did i say..?”
“something about… your cold being worse..?”
he pressed his lips into a firm line, forming a bread smile as her tongue clicked in disappointment.
“you weren’t listening.., what’s even distracting you?”
her, but he couldn’t say that.
y/n folded her arms while she awaited for an answer, making him gulp.
first, he invited himself inside. second, he almost burned down her kitchen. and now, he wasn’t even processing whatever she had to say.
“um..,” he swallowed down a lump in his throat, trying to find whatever could be distracting. “your snot, y/n! it’s uh.. dripping! yeah, that!”
the girl felt her heart drop and she immediately ran around to find tissues. what dumb luck did hoon have that she actually was dripping with snot?
he breathed out a sigh of relief, hand clenching onto his chest with how close he was to getting caught.
y/n quickly came back, cheeks slightly tinted pink. “back to what i was saying… how about i just heat up the soup myself?” she suggested, causing him to widen his eyes and shake his head.
“no, you’re sick. i can’t have you walking around when you should be resting.”
her brows scrunched and her head slightly tilted as a soft laugh escaped from her. “hoon.. you literally made me run around my apartment to stop the alarms…,”
sunghoon thought back to her constant feet pattering he heard not too long ago, and sighed. “anymore. i won’t have you walking around anymore,” he firmly corrected himself.
she took a sigh as well, finally falling to defeat as he proudly pushed her toward her couch.
“don’t stress about it.., soup will be in your much-needed tummy soon!”
y/n couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at his words, but eventually let him continue with how eager he was to do something so sweet.
with the man in the kitchen, she felt her pupils dilate whenever she laid her eyes on him, heart almost jumping out of her throat with how quick it was beating.
sunghoon was instantly looking like a boyfriend to her, and she couldn’t fight those thoughts anymore — his tall figure, the oversized hoodie perfectly fitting him, his pretty face gleaming at the bubbling pot.
of course, he did almost burn down her kitchen, but he was redeeming himself right now.
the girl was almost soaring with how much she was falling for him. though she was still fighting for her life, sunghoon being there for her was already making her feel better — even if he stressed her out for a second.
but she swiftly shook it off once the friend had turned around with a proud look spread across his face.
“it’s done! this soup will instantly make you feel better when you eat it.” he murmured, lips still curling at his final success attempt of reheating his moms soup.
y/n softly reflected his grin back as she sat across from him. “your mom’s the best, hoon!” she quickly dug in, heart melting and tummy warming at the soothing broth.
sunghoon tried to hide away his obvious beam but couldn’t help it. his eyes were glistening, his fangs were flashing, and his mind was going crazy with the girl he liked in front of her.
was this how it’d always be if she got sick, and he’d offer to take care of her? (yes)
his heart swelled with the possible future in his hands as the girl continued to eat.
“you don’t want to eat any?” she murmured, but he fully shook his head and pushed the bowl further to her — “it’s all yours, loser. my mom packed it specifically for you.”
she quietly coughed at the sudden nickname, scowling back a look while he only chuckled.
“you didn’t think i’d grow a soft spot for you just because you got sick, did you?” he teased mercilessly.
y/n playfully rolled her eyes before going back to chomping. typical sunghoon. one minute he was sweet, the next he was just a guy who loved to tease a little too much.
he continued to wear a huge grin though as she munched, making the girl fully unaware of how much love he held in his eyes.
once her stomach was full, hoon forced her to sit on the couch with a blanket wrapped around while he cleaned the dishes.
the feeling of him taking care of her was strange, but she liked it. it was something she could get use to if he liked her back (idiot).
when sunghoon finished, he plopped directly next to her on the couch with an idiotic grin, eyes full of hearts and stomach bubbled from feeling nervous.
“um, sunghoon?” y/n poked. “shouldn’t you sit a little further away? i can get you sick.”
he scoffed and laughed as if she told the funniest joke ever. “if i didn’t want to risk getting sick, i wouldn’t have chosen to come over… dummy.” he chuckled at the name he gave her while rubbing her cheek with his thumb.
“do you want me to move?”
her face instantly flushed with a hue of pink and she subtly tried to turn away from it. “no.. you can stay if you want.”
“do you want me to stay?”
sunghoon’s heart quickly thumped with every surge of confidence he got from her shy reactions.
his eyes flickered at her turned head, tilting his own in confusion before muttering, “are you that sick that you can’t look at me?”
“i can! my throat’s just.. itchy so i don’t want to cough in your face,” she tried to shoot back.
he huffed out a slight laugh at her lame attempt of an excuse. “is it that hard to stare at my handsome face?” he asked, knowing that she’d face him right after.
“what!” y/n’s hoarse voice spoke. “i can!”
she quickly laid her eyes back onto him and almost instantly, the two felt their hearts explode with fireworks.
sunghoon took a noticeably large gulp, blinking repeatedly with how quick their nose tips touched. she was much closer than she should’ve been, and the boy was flustered.
“y/n.. you’re um…,” he swallowed another lump, adams apple bobbing as every butterfly in his stomach multiplied.
“see! i can look at you!” she yelled, honestly unaware of how flushed her friend was becoming.
“yeah, you win.” he replied, nudging her forehead away before she could hear his loud heartbeats.
hoon held onto his chest, trying to calm his nerves when y/n only clicked her tongue.
“tried to challenge me but lost instead.. idiot.” she mumbled to herself, giving crunchy coughs afterward.
a grin plastered onto his face after her words processed. “yeah.. i lost” — but he didn’t, because he felt like a winner with how close her nose tip accidentally grazed over his.
he bit his bottom lip to hide away another smile as he muttered, “i think it’s time for you to take some medicine.”
y/n’s face scrunched in disgust. “i know i’m sick, but i hate taking cough syrup.”
“well you need it because you’re coughing like you’re on your death bed.”
an audible gasp was heard from her and she quickly smacked his arm. “sunghoon!” she yelled, earning a laugh from him.
“i’m just stating the obvious!”
he flashed a heart-throbbing grin and she almost melted at it, vision quick to lose sight with how alarmingly charming it was.
“you didn’t need to say that..,” she scowled.
his fangs were still brightly shown as he murmured, “come on, just take the medicine. it’ll benefit you.”
his hands offered a cup of the cough syrup that y/n hated. she downed it quickly but her lips pursed together like she tasted lemon.
sunghoon hollered out another laugh, eyes squeezing shut at how she shook her head in disapproval.
“that was gross!!” she exclaimed, making happy tears well up in the boy. “stop making fun of your sick friend, she doesn’t appreciate it, you know?”
he continued his laughing streak until he deemed it enough, wiping away a tear drop as he watched y/n roll her eyes.
“okay, sorry, hoon is acknowledging that.” he replied, giving a little play on her third person usage.
her lips coiled into a smile as she sent another soft hit to him. “you’re stupid.”
“and you’re sick, so get back in your blankets.”
before she could protest, sunghoon was quick to wrap it around her, giving her no time to react at the way his arms enclosed them together.
he tugged the sheets around her shoulders, gaze completely concentrated on the amount of blankets that covered her.
his face was leaned in, close to the point where her lips could ghost over his cheeks for a soft peck.
she felt her face heat up at the very thought, mind instantly craving for that moment while she watched his thick, dark brows scrunch for complete focus. she couldn’t help but linger her gaze down to his other pretty features.
being this close to her handsome friend felt mind numbingly crazy.
when the boy had finished, he gleamed a half smile before pulling away, proud of how he was able to ensure every blanket had securely been wrapped around her.
she quietly gasped for air after hoon’s brows raised in satisfaction of his work. “there! now you’re warm!” his voice yelled. “you can go to sleep now.”
y/n flickered her gaze to him, watching the way he softly patted his shoulder. she let a puff of air slip by her lips in disbelief as she shoved him.
“why are you being so sweet right now?”
was it not obvious to her that he wanted to feel her rest her head on his shoulder?
sunghoon’s lips pursed together while trying to find the right words. “you’re sick, y/n, why wouldn’t i be sweet right now?” he awkwardly laughed, stomach rupturing in butterflies. “i don’t want my friend to get bad treatment while she’s sick.”
he cheesed a grin and she only shook her head, eventually complying to his offer and laying on his shoulder.
his heart instantly raced at the little bump her head made against him, and he couldn’t help the huge smile that took form on his face from it.
“what should we watch?” y/n mumbled, unconsciously cuddling closer.
“what are you feeling?” sunghoon softly gulped as he forced his attention to stay on the device in front of them.
“mm..,” she thought. “oh! wanna watch lovely runner??”
he raised his brows in confusion. “lovely.. runner?”
“hoon, you need to watch more series…,” she scowled back at him. “let’s watch it!”
the boy was about to make a remark but stopped himself, agreeing with her suggestion since it was her sick day after all.
the drama played, episode after episode as the two stayed glued on the couch, holding each other close — both forgetting that they were just friends.
when another episode had finished, sunghoon’s eyes carefully watched the end credits. he chuckled, excited to start on the next one.
“should we watch another?” he murmured, waiting for an answer when nothing from y/n had been heard.
another minute passed and soft snores had finally erupted out of her.
he scoffed out a laugh, lips quickly curling at her quiet noises before turning his head.
“you’re really asleep?” the boy said, voice kept small to not wake her.
in seconds, the episode was paused and sunghoon carried his sick friend to her bed with ease.
laying her down carefully, his movements were slow and steady. the only thing audible were y/n’s continuous little snores and hoon’s heavy breathing.
the girl was finally set down, wrapped in blankets as he glanced at her state. his heart was pounding in his ears and his fingernails were scratching his palms to calm himself.
even when she was sickly pale, she was still someone who caught his attention timelessly. he loved her, and every little thing that complimented with him.
his lips curled at her, gaze softening as he quietly murmured, “i like you, dummy. can’t you notice me?”
sunghoon sighed, feeling stupid at how he confessed to his friend who still remained asleep. his heart began to shatter, shards painfully stabbing him as he started to head for the door.
however, a hand grab was quick to stop him, holding him back from moving any further. his heart dropped at the fast realization, mind instantly going through scenarios of y/n rejecting him.
slowly, he turned with a fragile mindset, ready to be declined from his crush.
“y/n…,” the male gulped.
she only beamed a half smile when she sat up as her eyes still drooped in fatigue. “i do notice you, loser.” she admitted with flushed cheeks. “because i like you too.. i like you a lot, actually.”
hoon’s face lit up in shock, eyes being blown wide as he felt adrenaline rush through his body. “you like me??” he questioned, falling in disbelief of her words.
y/n bit her lips, hiding away her smile while nodding. “i’ve liked you for a while now… and honestly, you taking care of me made me fall in love with you even more.”
her gaze trailed up to his face, watching how he proudly wore his wide grin made her heart flutter.
“stop looking at me like that..,” she uttered, softly pushing his shoulder, but he couldn’t help it. the girl he’s longed for finally said the words he’s been wanting to hear.
sunghoon flashed his charming fangs at her as he smiled in delight. “what else can i do? my friend’s in love with me.”
“i said like, not love!” she defended.
“i heard love…,” he teased back, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.
he gave another chuckle before leaning in, lips yearning for hers when she dodged away.
his head tilted in confusion and she only laughed at that. “i’m still sick, hoon. i don’t want to get you sick.” y/n muttered, earning a ridiculed taunt to come from him.
“you think i care about that? the girl i’ve loved for so long has just confessed to me so i’m gonna kiss her.”
sunghoon quickly leaned in again, close to kissing a flustered y/n when she pulled away once more. he softly pouted, face frowning as his gaze stay locked on her lips.
“sunghoon,” she called, but he didn’t answer. the boy continued to be mindlessly stuck on the sight of her lips.
she sent a soft hit to his broad chest, finally catching his attention as his eyes grew hungry.
“i seriously don’t want to get you sick,” she mumbled, face scrunching to emphasize her worry.
hoon only scoffed, biting his lips as he replied — “and i seriously don’t care.”
before she could say more, he swiftly crashed his lips against hers, swooning the girl in seconds. she gasped, earning an entrance for sunghoon as he smiled against her — enjoying the shocked reaction he was able to receive.
his hands firmly held her cheeks, cupping them so she could stay put while she held onto his arms, softly gripping onto his hoodie with the evidential crave in his kiss.
y/n finally pushed against his chest, giving him the signal to pull away and he did. his face continued to linger near hers, eyes searching for flushed cheeks.
“sunghoon!” she quietly scolded, earning a chuckle from his attractive voice.
she felt his lips softly curl against hers and she couldn’t help but to smile as well.
“now you’re gonna get sick.”
her gaze peered into his, making his heart melt while he raised his brows. “i guess you’ll have to be the one to take care of me now.”
he grinned as she rolled her eyes, cupping her cheeks once more for sweet kisses on the lips. he gave soft pecks, continuing on and on before y/n turned her head away.
“i know you like me, but i’m still sick! don’t kiss me right now.” she huffed, trying to swat him away.
sunghoon chuckled. “you should’ve told me that minutes ago, now i don’t want to stop kissing you.”
he leaned in again but the girl dodged her head away. “no, sunghoon!!” she giggled, attempting to push at his chest.
“just one!”
y/n sighed before complying, pushing herself closer for a soft peck on the lips.
“one more?”
her face morphed in disbelief, eventually leaning in for another. a quick plant on his lips was made and he only smiled.
“another?”
“hoon… no.” she folded her arms and shook her head. “my throat is hurting and i’m about to cough if i lean in again.”
sunghoon raised his thick brows mischievously. “so i’ll lean in then.” and so he tried, closing his eyes and expecting a kiss on the lips when he met her cheek instead.
“why don’t you want to kiss your new boyfriend?” he softly whined, becoming clingy within seconds.
y/n scrunched her face as she grinned and nudged him. “because your new girlfriend is sick and wants to rest.”
his lips pushed together and presented duck lips, pouting while wrapping his arms around her. “fine then, let’s rest, hm?” he murmured.
the two laid beside each other, facing one another as his eyes twinkled with love, mind in complete disbelief of how he was able to get his girl.
“i’m so lucky,” his voice uttered in the silence.
“hm?” sleepy y/n replied back.
“i’m lucky you fell in love with me.”
“and i’m lucky you loved me back, and also didn’t burn down my kitchen.” she murmured, voice almost gone from her cold.
sunghoon chuckled and let a huge grin plaster onto his face as he leaned in once more, placing a longing kiss on the tip of her nose.
“get to sleep, pretty girl.” he whispered.
y/n yawned, nodding her head and complying without an insult with how exhausted she was.
he pulled her closer into his arms, engulfing her into his soothing embrace as he muzzled his head on top of hers.
she breathed in his scent, feeling at home when she easily rested her hands at his chest.
the two cuddled, holding each other close to their dearest hearts with a new relationship that just unfolded.
✩ ‘all my life is you’ ✩
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
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tiedyeflannels · 1 day
Text
Red String Theory
Kim Seokjin x reader
Word count: 1.2k
Genre: established relationship, fluff
A/N: 'Sup! I thought I would take a quick break from Tae's series so I could write this fic for the man, the myth, the Moon that's coming home next month! She's kind of short, but I hope you enjoy!!
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“Hey, Y/n/n,” Jin spoke, making me turn my head in his direction.
We were sitting on the couch together just watching the TV while taking a break from moving furniture. I raised my eyebrows and hummed to let him know to continue.
“I’ve got a question.”
I shifted toward him a little and put my legs across his. 
“Shoot,” I said, looking at him with full focus on what he was going to ask.
He looked down at my hands before pointing to my wrists, “Your bracelets. What are their meanings?”
A confused smile appeared on my lips, “What? My bracelets?”
He nodded, “Mhmm! You wear them all the time and never take them off, so what’s their story?”
I chuckled at the question, but nodded all the same.
“Okay, um…” I lifted up my right arm and spread the bracelets one wasn’t overlapping another.
“So these are just hair ties,” I said, stretching the two black bands wrapped around my wrist then letting them snap back.
“This one,” I pointed to a string friendship bracelet with different colors of blue, green and grays, “was given to me by a friend in college during a club we went to together.”
Then I pointed to the last one, which was a small silver bracelet with tiny diamonds spaced throughout.
“And this one’s obviously the one you gave me for our first anniversary.”
He smiled, “And that’s obviously my favorite one out of all of them! What about those?”
Just like I did before, I moved the bracelets making sure that they don’t overlap.
“These are just more friendship bracelets from some of the club members,” I pointed to two braided strings that were made up of three different colors each that were tied around my wrist.
 “And this one was made by my high school best friend,” I said, pulling apart the magnets then putting them back together.
I nodded at my finished explanation before Jim hooked a finger under the little red string around wrist.
“What about this one, hmm?”
I looked at him with a smile, “Have you heard of the ‘Red String Theory’?"
He shook his head at the question.
“So there was a TikTok that I had watched a while back and it was of this girl who was telling a story. So she was saying how she had seen something about the ‘red string theory’ and that it reminded her of something that had happened at her work. She worked at a store and this couple comes in and are trying things on and she’s smiling at their interaction because she thinks they’re cute.
“When they were ready, they went up to pay and then left the store. After they left, she saw something on the ground which happened to be a red bracelet-”
“No,” he gasped, fully immersed in the story.
I laughed, “Yes! She noticed that it was the same one the guy was wearing too. She thought that they would come back for it, so she put it in a drawer and forgot about it… until the next day,” I led on.
He simply nodded, urging me to go on.
“The girl that was with the guy the other day had come in asking if there was a red bracelet here. The cashier said yes and went to fish it out of the drawer, but while doing that she noticed the new ring on her finger and asked her about it. The girl had the biggest smile on her face and said that she couldn’t talk about it because it had just happened, but thanked for the bracelet and the ‘congratulations’ she received before leaving the store.
“After that happened, she had searched up what the theory was and decided to wear one too. And she was wearing it for a few months, until she had started talking to a guy- I can’t remember if it was an old friend or someone new, but anyway- one day she was hanging out with her, now, boyfriend when she realized it fell off, making her wholeheartedly believe in the theory.”
“You didn’t explain what the theory was,” he said as I was just about to keep talking.
“I was just about to get to that,” I nudged him in feigned annoyance which made him chuckle.
“Sorry! Please continue,” he gestured.
I huffed.
“Anyway! It’s believed, in some cultures, that when people are fated to be soulmates there’s an invisible red string that ties them together. So if you wear a red bracelet and meet someone, then it’s supposed to fall off if they’re your soulmate,” I finished.
“Couldn’t that all chalk up to coincidence though,” Jin questioned, eyebrows furrowed. 
I shrugged, “Maybe so, but I’m a hopeless romantic so things like this or fate were always things that I loved which is why I started wearing one.”
“So then this,” he pulled at the red string bracelet, “Has never fallen off?” 
I looked down at the string and let out a chuckle before raising my head to look at Jin again.
“Actually, this is a different bracelet. The first one I started wearing after I watched the video fell off when we met.”
“WHAT?!” I nodded, biting back a smile, “Mhm, it was after that fateful day you spilled coffee on my jacket, invited me to eat to make up for it, then we spent the whole day walking around and talking.” 
I happily sighed at the memory, “I got home and realized that my bracelet wasn’t on my wrist anymore, but I didn’t really think anything of it because I had been wearing it for a long time until you texted me later that night to ask if we could go on a proper date… And now, here we are,” I gestured around our apartment.
He nodded, “Ah… so you wear that like a keepsake?”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at him, “Exactly! It reminds me of you and that day so I tend to look at it whenever I’m feeling down!”
He hummed before he looked at his own wrist, “Maybe I should wear one, too, so we could match.”
I chuckled, “Sure, come with me.”
I got up and took Jin’s hand, pulling him along to the kitchen where some of the moving boxes were. I dug through a few as Jin took a seat on a stool, then I found my embroidery string and took out the red one along with a pair of scissors.
Walking over to where he was sitting and taking a seat too, I had him hold out his wrist while I unwound the string, wrapped it around and tied it before cutting off the excess material.
“Tada,” I cheered, placing the items in my hands on the table.
“Hey Y/n,” Jin started and I turned to look at him, humming in question.
He grabbed both of my hands, “I’m really happy that we share this string.”
He kissed the top of my head as we sat in a peaceful silence and looked around at the piles of unopened boxes and half moved furniture in our new apartment.
Knowing what he meant by that statement, I rested my head on his shoulder and happily sighed.
“Me too, Jin.”
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decaydanceredacted · 2 days
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pete fighting uhh pinning him down. and uhh. pussy. yeah. so like. Sorry i went on a rant i’ve been stuck on this specific thought for days and i thought i’d save it to submit it. :-)
to start off, pete’s a good fight, honestly. he’s physically strong and relatively little - so he can move pretty quick and hit pretty hard. so its pretty hard to get him down onto the ground, but not too bad. it’s some deserted parking lot, the van blocks the streetlamp from really lighting us up. so i get him on his back. he’s probably dressed in something skimpy, because he’s a whore, and his hair is probably all messed up. he hasn’t had the chance to fuck with it in a few days, so its curled up at the edges from sweat. he’s grimy. sweaty. probably smells terrible. but he kinda looks pretty like this - sort of grouted at the seams. he’s very pretty, actually. his lips don’t get any less plush just because his teeth are bared (nice teeth too, by the way).
also, he’s got a collar on. because he’s a whore? i mean obviously. it’s simple black leather, a single strap around his throat with a couple studs. he’s been wearing it all day and nobody has even questioned it. so, he’s pinned down. arms under his waist just enough to restrain him, with my knee on his stomach, the other up by his hip. he’s squished in half, his thigh got caught between my legs and is now resting sort of over my hip. i’ve got a hand on his chest to keep him down, the other grabs at his collar before i can think of anything smarter to do. if he wasn’t more aware of his loss, he’d probably have tried to bite at me.
the part of this i’ve really been stuck on all day is telling him something like “down, boy” or “heel” or “don’t bite, hound” or really anything that would remind him he’s a puppy to me. (have you seen the guy? have you heard him talk? he’s a doggy!) and watching how he would sort of melt under it. relax back into the concrete just enough to tell me he’s given up. (usually, people would simply dismount (?) him at this point. but i unfortunately need to fuck him so bad that my head hurts when i think about his pussy so. here we are.) since he’s scrunched in half, his belt is pretty easy to undo, and there’s really no reason to be gentle about it - so i think i’d get his jeans up to about midway on his thigh (i would have to take my knee off his tummy but that isn’t really a problem because he’s not gonna fight back.)
he’s a fucking loser. not only because he’s a nerdy sorta freak, but because he lost the fight and he’s being undressed on perhaps the dirtiest concrete in all of the midwest, several hours after dark. non-losers would be at a party, or maybe asleep. (so, basically, he’s fucking embarrassed. a little guilty. kinda like the face doggies give you when they know they shouldn’t have done something, and they just did it in front of you.)
pete’s teary, flushed, and doing his very best to avoid the embarrassment of eye contact right now. because his pants just came off, and the shitty boxers he’s wearing are absolutely soaked through because his dumb ass can’t even get called a bitch without needing to jerk off after. (he nearly came in his pants the second he was on the ground. it’s loser behavior.)
i’d probably be actively making fun of him for it, too. like “jesus christ, dude, one punch and you’re wet through your panties?” or maybe tugging the collar and making a joke about how he must be in heat. follow it up with quite literally any sentence containing the word breed and he’s out of his mind.
i need to shove his boxers up and spread his cunt open. brush his t-dick as gently as i can just to watch him squirm. start off with one finger, dragging it in and out at a pace that would definitely make him whine. (or, try to get up so he can take over - only to be shoved back down by a hand on his throat.) (i want to feel his insides. he’s gotta be super worked up, so no matter how you’re touching him, he’d be twitching.) while he’s probably yipping up a storm (because he’s a puppy! yip yip woof!) i’d take the opportunity to get a second finger in and start on a moderate pace. two fingers, not even going that fast, and he’s losing his fucking mind. uselessly babbling and trying to shove his hips down onto my hand.
absolutely nothing going through his head, i’m sure. if anything, probably some word-soup that ends up only consisting of “puppy, please, cum” or something of that nature. not a single sentence or complex thought. i wanna watch him cum his dumb puppy brains out. barely able to move but thrashing around anyway. i’d get a hand on his collar and pinch it just a little tighter when i feel his cunt start to seize up. (i think he’d start silently, or maybe just with a mumble (something like “fuck, i’m cumming, m’ gonna cum.” again. no complex thought in that thing!) and then devolve into whining as loud as humanly possible. borderline barking. cause. yeah. you get the gist. woof.) i wanna watch him shaking and trying to compose himself after - eyeliner running down his face, red cheeks, bloody lip from our fight.
i feel like this is already too long so i’ll leave rhis one here and maybe come back later to put another incredibly long psot int he askbox. You know what it’ll be. i’ll be fucking that band guy that barks
-⚙️ gear anon :-)
.
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jess-the-vampire · 2 years
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Guys, I Think The Leaks Are Fakes Made By The Owl House Crew
yes yes i know, right now that might be a WILD ass claim to make but i want those who are reading this to hear me out and read this whole post, because I've been chatting with friends since these leaks happened and i think there’s reason to suspect we might be getting punked here.
And i say this fully accepting there is a chance i could be entirely wrong about this and they could be real, but I think there’s some reason to doubt the episode actually was leaked to the internet.
Now to get those who need it up to speed, the first of the three specials for toh s3 “Thanks to Them” is airing this Saturday on the 15th, it’s a big 45 minute episode that takes place on earth in Luz’s town of Gravesfield. There was a comic con panel about it a few days ago were some fans got to see some sneak peaks, it was all over the internet and everything.
But the day after, some images floated around, 6 of them mainly, claiming to be spoilers from this episode and everyone went WILD with anger, rightfully so, this huge ass episode got leaked to the internet and spoiled for everyone? Man what a way to ruin a week huh?
Well i thought the same for awhile too, but i’ve had some time to cool down and talk to others and guys....something isn’t right about this whole situation.
Below i’m gonna explain why this whole situation feels REALLY off and why I think there might be a chance that not only did the episode NOT leak, but the leaks were fabricated by the crew itself.
And just to be safe, i will do so without showing said leaks, nor will i tell you exactly what’s in them.
Those who saw them will understand, but for those lucky enough to avoid them, i’ll give you an idea of what about them makes me and others suspect something isn’t right.
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Now i’ve had episode leaks before in fandoms, it’s nothing new, they can happen to any fanbase due to issues with scheduling, or mishandling, or episodes being put up online and some people get to it fast.
So the idea of this happening isn’t odd.
However, i raise you this, because i found this to be REALLY Strange.
How come it’s only these 6 images?
Remember when ST and EE were shown privately to the TOH discord by crew members as a treat before they aired? Remember how afterwards there was a ton of images about lumity blushing and amity’s parents?
We were told the ENTIRE EPISODE was not only LEAKED, but put ONLINE. 
And yet all i and anyone else have seen are these images and people claiming they’re real, and nothing else.
There were gifs, clips, dozens of frames from willow’s dad’s holding hop pop books to the “That’s rough buddy”. There was so much about these episodes the moment the internet found them.
So let me get this straight? Those episodes the moment the fandom gets them get dozens of gifs, clips, drives to watch them, screenshots, memes, and fanart.....meanwhile this HUGE 45 MINUTE EPISODE has nothing but these specific 6 images?
I’ve never seen anything besides these images floating around when it comes to the the claim the episode was put out, there are no clips, no audio, no gifs, no dialogue being mentioned, nothing.
Is that not strange? 
Don’t you guys think if the entire episode was leaked we’d see more then these specific images? Don’t you think we’d see MORE then these shots?
 Like this is a big episode, and there is nothing else worth spoiling? Nothing about the wittebanes? lumity? Huntlow? any other big reveals? You’d think if the episode was revealed those would be leaked too right? 
Isn’t it so odd that these are the only leaks out there? if there’s video, why doesn’t it seem to be posted anywhere? Heck, where is the video that shows off what’s happening in the leaks with the biggest spoilers?
it’s also strange how this got “Leaked” over a week before the episode comes out, because how in the heck would someone get access to the full episode THAT early? When episodes usually leak, if they aren’t shown privately, it’s either the day before or because of a scheduling error. 
So that also seems odd.
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There’s also this to consider, the content of the images themselves.
I won’t go into detail obviously, but you know what i found so off-putting? That the images in question proved a specific theory, proved a few theories and predictions people were floating around the fanbase...theories that aren’t something that’s strongly supported by any current evidence or even liked by quite a few people.
The last images are so....out of nowhere too. They’re sequential enough that they could tell a story of what happened without context and some of them are DEFINTENLY SHOCKING.
But the first two, they have nothing to do with the context of those last 4, so why did they get leaked? they reveal nothing, they’re also things we get to see in the promos that just were released.
Except, if you consider they were “Leaked” to make these leaks seem more real.
Don’t you think it’s odd two of the leaks are things that ended up in the promo that showed up later that day? i mean, what are the CHANCES? 
But if you were on the crew, and you wanted the fans to buy into the leaks, you WOULD pair up the fakes with real ass images the fans would see later that day wouldn’t you?
It’s so oddly deliberate.
You would also make leaks that would support big theories and have shock value so people were bound to spread them more. Which is EXACTLY what these ones are.
And if you’re on the crew, you know what the characters are wearing, so even easier to make them look real, because no matter what clips are shown in any disney promos or commercials they will appear to line up with the leaks.
There’s also other off stuff, like how one image is VERY oddly cropped compared to the others, or some character inconsistencies, some even seemingly off model.
“But the 6 minutes in HD are a thing-”
yeah and if someone wanted to fool the fanbase into thinking these leaks were real they WOULD release the 6 minutes alongside it to claim the episode had to be out.
The thing is, the 6 minutes have already been leaked to the fanbase from the nycc panel to the entire fanbase the moment it ended, it’s not as if putting the hd version out there will spoil anything because everyone already basically saw it.
And again, if the episode is OUT, why is that the ONLY footage that appears to have been posted anywhere? The footage we the fans already know about and saw?
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And i wanna send off the rest of the suspicious details about these leaks by talking about the crew.
The crew, has been DEAD SILENT about these leaks, they have not said a word about these specific ones, not even to warn fans about them or how upset they are or anything. 
So....
Which is not what they usually do, they have warned fans before, so why not warn us about these supposed BIG leaks about a big episode?
And ok, maybe they don’t wanna make a fuss about them, fair enough, but there’s something else.
Rebecca Rose, who works on this show, liked this tweet just recently.
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Now for those who don’t know, Alex Hirsh (Voice of King and Hooty) is the creator of Gravity Falls, another Disney Cartoon. That cartoon is infamous for it’s mysteries and secrets, and Alex, actually made a fake leak about a major spoiler to troll the entire fanbase.
He made this tweet after it successfully tricked the fans.
Now not only does he work on this show too, but you wanna know where these “Leaks” started out? 4chan and reddit.
Same place his did.
What are the chances?
What are the chances a crew members likes this old tweet about his stunt NOW of all times? When the episode has supposedly been leaked?
Now would it suck to assume the entire fanbase got fooled into thinking the episode was leaked and all the posts made about shaming the leakers were completely for nothing?
Oh yeah.
For the crew to pull this stunt and make us all look like doofuses would be insane.
But i think there’s reason to find this whole situation off and i hope this post makes you all reconsider some details you might not of considered before. Maybe we were leaked, maybe this is all a huge coincidence.
But if you ask me.
This is all too fishy for my liking.
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illusioninfnty · 8 months
Text
day 15 ; keeping quiet
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↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher
fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.
Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.
“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.
You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress. 
You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.
No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.
A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.
A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.
It was one of the ghostface masks. 
You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.
It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.
Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.
The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.
In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face. 
“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.
But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”
You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.
Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”
He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.
You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.
He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.
You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear. 
And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.
“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.
Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.
You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.
If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.
You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.
Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.
He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.
“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.
“She knows, man.”
Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.
Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.
His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?” 
The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.
He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.
You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.
He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.
“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!
But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you, he backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.
“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”
Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”
Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.
“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”
As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.
“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat. 
You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later. 
Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”
“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.
Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.
“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”
He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.
“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.
“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”
Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect. 
“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.
You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.” 
“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.
Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”
“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”
He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.” 
“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.
A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.
You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.
“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself. 
Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s. 
“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”
His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.
“Good. Now stay quiet.”
Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions. 
Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”
Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.
The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”
Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.
“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.
He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.
As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.
Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.
His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.
But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.
Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.
Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.
You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.
“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.
“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.
You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.
Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.
But Stu is nowhere near stopping.
With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.
“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.
You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.
You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.
Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.
“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.
Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.
When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.
“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.
You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.
You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.
“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.
Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.
Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.
“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”
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peaktora · 3 months
Text
𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).
a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here
p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!
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"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.
your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”
he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."
clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.
you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.
he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."
“what are y—“
“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”
"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.
he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."
you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"
he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."
two can play that game.
“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.
he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.
or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.
"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.
you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”
you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.
“satoru—”
“what happened to nicknames?”
“satoru.”
"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"
"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."
"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”
"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"
“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”
“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.
his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”
“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”
“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”
you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“
he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“
you tsk, making him drop his excuse.
“wh—“
"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.
you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.
before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.
the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.
“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.
"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."
you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”
“i love you more.”
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drefear · 6 months
Note
i saw u needed some idea and lemme just say: ex's dad!miguel o'hara
…oh fuck yes.
Tw: cheating, p in v, age gap,
He cheated. He fucking cheated with your roommate. And now here you were, standing in a long dress at his cousin’s wedding two months later. His cousin invited you because you two became close friends, but seeing him bring your old roommate, laughing with her in front of everyone while you didn’t even bring a plus one sucked.
You look up in the mirror as you tap some cold water on the back of your neck, nervous again after seeing him kiss her cheek and then make eye contact with you.
Most of the ceremony is a blur as you can barely focus on anything but keeping your breathing even. Once it’s over, you bee-line for the open bar and quickly down a shot of vodka before hissing at the burn and reaching for a lemon or lime, anything to help with the taste.
Your arm hits something hard and you feel the front of your dress become soaked as you glance to the side to see your ex boyfriend’s father looking down at where his Old Fashioned spilled on your torso. The syrup-sticky-feeling starts to sink in as you feel gross, groaning and imagining how you must look.
“Dios, I’m so sorry.” He apologized and sighs, “this is not the way I wanted to say hello.”
“It’s ok.” You nod and sigh. “I think the bridal suite has a shower in the bathroom.”
“Let me try to clean the dress while you rinse off, yeah?” He asks and you agree, walking together in silence to the bridal suite. As he opens the door for you, he speaks. “I’m sorry about what happened with my son. He’s young, can’t hold onto the good things in his life right now.”
“Sounds like you want to get us back together.” You chuckle, though it feels dry in your throat. “Mr. O’Hara, it’s ok. It wasn’t meant to be.” You deadpan and he gives you an apologetic look, almost pity.
You head into the bathroom and as you begin to shut the door, a hand catches the knob and pushes it open once more. “Do you need help with the zipper?” His voice gets lower as he asks and you turn to see him coming closer, not even fully answering before he forces you around to look in the mirror and starts unzipping the dress. His breath is hot in your ear as he whispers, “my son doesn’t know how to keep a sexy, smart woman.” His words make you shiver as his fingers trance symbols on your back and down to your thong. “Tell me when to stop.”
“Don’t stop.” You reply and he smirks in the mirror at you, watching your eyes flutter closed as he dips his hands into the front of your underwear and rub small circles around your clit.
“Let me taste this pussy, cariño. Wanted to since the first day he brought you home.” He mumbles into your hair and lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the sink, spreading your legs and putting your knees on his shoulders as he groans at the sight of your already wet pussy. “God damn, you even smell good.”
With that, his tongue licks a stripe over your pussy, pushing your thong to the side and flicking his tongue between your folds. Your moan and lean backwards against the mirror as he grinds his nose into your clit, your legs jolting from the sudden feeling. “Good girl, let out those sounds… let me hear you moan, so sweet for me…” his comments make you thrust into his face and make him laugh deeply, then beginning to push his tongue in and out of you at a faster pace.
“Cum on my face.” He instructs you and you oblige, shaking and almost screaming from pleasure. “Good girl.”
It wasn’t your wedding night, but you still celebrated.
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rinhaler · 7 months
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hey hey, ik ur requests are closed so im gonna leave this till u open them back up,
imagine Yakuza Boss!Toji bucking his hips into you, bored out of his mind at his meeting, you’re cute whimpers and whines for him to slow down slightly amusing him as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, all this happening while his most trusted subordinates watch as he fucks into you at this meeting, while you just sit on his lap babbling about how good he feels until he finally makes you squirt, causing him to stop the meeting and kick everybody out so he can abuse your little hole some more, wanting to see you squirt for him more. :3
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I feel like I went a little off script and I threw some Shiu in there too bc we're all sluts for Shiu right?? Bon apetit!
warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap, possessiveness, slight jealousy, slightly mean toji, dom!toji, exhibitionism, public sex, oral fixation, squirting, daddy!kink, DDLG esque?, pussy spanks.
words: 1.6k
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“She shouldn’t be in here.” Shiu comments, his boss gives him a passive stare before looking in your direction. You sit politely with your hands in your lap and a shy smile, looking awkwardly around the room full of terrifying men. “She shouldn’t be listening to the shit we’re discussing.”
“I shouldn’t be listening to this shit, either. What the fuck do I pay you all for?” Toji responds, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he scoffs. “She’s needy, she needs constant attention and I know all you filthy fucks have got your eye on her so I don’t want her out of my sight.”
Shiu groans, but stands to his feet. You feel bad, really, you know what an inconvenience you are but you do try your best to remain demure and out of the way. But he’s right, you’re needy. And to be honest you’re a little afraid. Since you’ve become Toji’s plaything you’ve got a target on your back. You know with all of the security and loyal men at his disposal the odds of anything happening to you are slim. But still, you know it isn’t impossible.
Toji’s second in command leads the meeting in the board room, and you are engaged and silent as he speaks. It’s something about a territory dispute. You don’t fully understand but you know it’s illegal and dangerous. And you begin to whimper as they discuss resorting to violence.
The sound catches Toji’s attention. It seems you’ve been paying more attention than he has. He’s got more money than sense, and that is why he keeps Shiu around. But he can read you like a book. He knows when you’re happy or sad, angry or scared. And now, he sees how hard you’re trying to hold in the fear you feel. He knows what always makes you feel better, though. And he’s bored out of his fucking skull.
He shows no care or consideration for his audience as he lifts you from your seat and into his lap. Shiu stutters a little as he watches Toji manhandle you, your legs spread apart over his own before he touches under your little miniskirt. He smirks, kissing your shoulder when he feels your naked flesh.
“Good girl, no panties, jus’ like I told you.”
He doesn’t see a point to you wearing panties, he told you that after your first encounter. He told you he’d be keeping you around and you were his perfect little girl. And perfect little girls don’t need panties.
“Perfect little girls just need to keep their cunts wet for their daddy’s.” that is what he told you.
Your face flushes with heat when you realise if anyone in the room is brave enough to look they’ll see your dripping little slit. You aren’t sure how brave Toji’s men really are, though. But Toji is bold and uncaring and he knows what he wants. Always.
You gasp, softly, stealing a few gazes from the men in the room. Shiu is busy trying to keep the meeting on track and keep everyone focused. And it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He knows your pussy like the back of his hand, too. Because Toji loves to show you off. But he’ll never share. But his second in command knows better than most what your cute cunt is capable of. It’s a novelty to him, now. Why would he steal glances when he knows his generous boss will brag about you in private to him?
You fall forwards, little hands slamming against the table top as Toji rams his cock into you without remorse. He holds your hips, pulling you down until the back of your thighs smack against his. His fingers squeeze into your doughy skin, sure to leave bruises as he’s often one to do. Any fear that you’d felt at the thought of the men surrounding you committing acts of violence are a distant memory, now. You’re too busy trying to steady yourself through daddy’s onslaught.
“P-Please, fuck, please… daddy! S-Slow down!” you beg, a smirk sprawls like wildfire across his face as he listens to your desperate pleas.
“No no no, you don’t tell me what to do,” he reminds you. A light slap coming down on your clit as he continues fucking up into you. “Stop thinking, just take it, princess.”
Shiu sighs, his focus wavering as you continue to moan and yelp through Toji’s never ending fucking. He lights a cigarette for himself and then hands one to Toji. He takes a hand away from your hip to bring it to his lips, and Shiu proceeds to light his and then his own.
He continues to speak as if nothing is happening. He’s so calm and collected, but it’s no wonder. Toji is a man he’s known for as long as he can remember and he knows all of the complexities that come with him. Not to say that you are complex. You’re probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him, truthfully. But it isn’t as much of a distraction as it seems to be for the rest of his subordinates.
Toji chortles when he watches Shiu slot his thumb into your mouth, his other hand still holding his cigarette with no care to where the ash lands. The lackeys are even more confused, now, do they share you? Toji isn’t the type to share, no, but he isn’t going to chastise Shiu for doing what he needs to do to get through his meeting.
Besides, you look quite cute sucking on his thumb. He always thinks you look cute when you’re sucking on something, though. You hold onto Shiu’s wrist as you suckle on his thumb. And you hate that he won’t give you any attention, especially when you’re blinking up at him with pretty, wet eyes. Doesn’t he want to admire how cute you’re being for him?
You begin to act up, mewling loudly around his fingers as you try to get him to look at you. But it only ends in another wet slap on your pussy from Toji and a particularly rough cantering of his hips. He pulls you back towards him, your shoulder blades cushioned by his pecs as you’re pulled into him.
Shiu wipes your saliva from his thumb onto his blazer and gives you a passive glance before focusing on the men in the room again. He snaps his fingers in a bid to command their attention.
Toji, however, is fixated on you. His sharp canines ghost over your jugular. Your heart rate quickens and so do the shallow breaths escaping your throat. He silences you, his hand smothers your lips as he continues to nip and bite softly with ease. It’s exciting, and terrifying, because you know he could tear out your throat if he really wanted to.
“Did I just hear you beggin’ for another man’s attention, princess?” he whispers, his large palm pushing your legs further apart before repeatedly slapping down against your firm clit. “Is daddy’s cock ruinin’ you not enough, hah? Because I’ll stop, right now, and you can forget about cumming for a while. A long fucking while, darlin’.”
You muffle your protests through his smothering palm. Of course he’s enough! You got carried away, that’s all. He’s more than enough. You don’t need anyone else’s attention. Just him. Only him.
“Heh, that’s what I thought.” he laughs, harshly, licking a fat stripe up your neck with his wide tongue. Tears spill from your eyes as he continues to pound into you, gritting his teeth with each squeeze and stifled moan he’s suffocating with his hand. He wraps his free hand around your torso and drills upwards into your slippery heat.
Your moans become louder as you reach your peak. He repeatedly nudges your sensitive insides in the most beautiful way and forces you to clench and wince and fucking scream through your nostrils as he drags your orgasm out of you.
And eyes begin to turn white as they roll into the back of your head. Your body turns limp as his touch forces an orgasm from your body. Your body is wracked as you violently shake through it, your cunt squirting all over his lap and onto the floor below. He moans, boisterously at your display.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by the men in the room, either, as the sound of gushing water hits the ground below.
Toji bends you over the desk, carnal desire flooding all sense that he has. He pushes your head down so your cheek is squished against the table. You look up at Shiu, blinking pathetically. And now, you do have his attention. Toji hisses, flipping your skirt up to reveal your plump ass. He has no doubt his men will find it difficult not to look.
“Everyone out, now.” he commands, his men readily jump to their feet and begin to filter out of the room. Shiu stubs his cigarette out on the table top, not even an inch away from your nose and he prepares to leave. “Not you. Stay.” Toji orders. Shiu chuckles, weakly, and takes a seat.
“What do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches your fucked out face continue to swallow Toji’s cock again and again. “Sorry I couldn’t give you any attention, angel. That meeting was a disaster, huh?” he smiles.
“This isn’t your pleasure, Shiu.” Toji informs him. “She jus’ likes it when you watch.”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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mrsbarnesblog · 2 months
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meeting
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: pregnant sex with Rafe in his office
Word count: 1k
Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, pregnant sex, unprotected sex, kinda public sex?, sweet Rafe, dirty talk
A/N: requests are open <3
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When you decided to take a walk outside and visit your husband in his office, you expected to spend some time with him or possibly have lunch together. But definitely not to be placed on his table with your summer dress only slightly covering your pregnant belly while Rafe was going in and out of you at a steady pace. 
Rafe was still wearing his white, perfectly ironed shirt; his pants were just unbuckled and slightly pushed down. Your eyes tried to focus on one thing but you couldn’t decide what in him looked more attractive to you. His was big, slightly hovering over you, with that familiar smirk on his lips and mischievous glimpse in his eyes. Yeah, your hormones were crazy because of your pregnancy, but having the sexiest man alive look at you like you were the best thing ever definitely added something to it. 
Rafe actually had a planned meeting in that exact room in twenty minutes but it was one of his latest concerns. Not when his beautiful, glowing, very pregnant, and very sensitive wife was spread in front of him. 
“Rafe—people can probably hear us.” You half whispered and half moaned as he gently lifted your leg onto his shoulder, allowing his cock to sink deeper into your greedy cunt. 
“Don’t care, sweets. Let ‘em hear how good you feel.” He grumbled, moving one hand to your heavy breasts and pinching your overly sensitive nipple. “Shit, your tits look so perfect right now, princess. You know I can't resist you when you’re all round and with my baby growing inside. So fuckin’ hot, and look at that… your pussy ‘s just sucking me right back in.”
Your eyes rolled back both because of his words and the way his cock was perfectly hitting that spot inside of you. You grabbed his hand that was currently playing with your tits, too desperate to have Rafe closer, to feel his skin on yours, but you couldn’t do much because of the belly that was already way too big. 
“I need you closer, please.” You almost cried, tears gathering at your waterline, while you tried to stay quieter and not be too obvious for people outside the office.
“Sh-h, baby. You know I can’t lay on you, yeah? Gotta protect both of my girls right here.” His hand slipped lower, gently caressing your bump. “Let me fuck you nice and slow, and then we’ll snuggle the whole evening after I get home.” 
You nodded a few times, eyes locked with your husband’s as his hips gently slapped against your skin. Rafe turned his head to the side, kissing your leg that was still thrown over his shoulder. His lips curled into a smirk, noticing how hungrily you looked at him, barely able to stay focused because of his thrusts. 
“Please don’t stop, Rafe—oh god, I’m gonna cum!” You squealed, arching your back from the wooden table beneath you. One hand was wrapped around Rafe’s wrist, digging your nails into his skin, and the other one was placed over your mouth to muffle your moans.
“Mhm, that’s right, cum for me, princess.” His low moan filled the office, along with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the creak of the table. “Your sweet pussy squeezes the shit out of me. Fuck, gonna make me come too. Want me to do it inside of ya, huh?” 
“Yes-yes, please! I need it!” With the first touch of Rafe’s fingers on your clit, you had finally reached your climax. He wasn’t far behind you, spilling his load inside, while your pussy was pulsating around him and almost not letting him move even for an inch.
“That’s right, take everything.” Rafe moaned, slowly sliding inside with eyes locked on the place where you two were connected. He swore that he could’ve come again just seeing your mixed cum glistering on his cock. “I would’ve fucked a baby right into you right now if you weren’t already pregnant. Shit, you look so hot, you can’t even imagine.”
“Stop!” You smiled through the post-orgasmic fog in your head, keeping your eyes closed. He just gave you another smirk before gently placing your leg down and lowering to kiss your stomach. 
You almost jumped from your place when you heard a quiet knock on the door. Rafe immediately reached behind your back to make you sit upright so that way he could cover your almost naked body from whoever was behind the door. 
“Um— Sir? I’m really sorry to disturb you, but your meeting is in two minutes and people are already waiting here.” Rafe rolled his eyes at the voice of his assistant, who luckily had enough brains to not walk inside. 
“Oh my god, Rafe. It’s— they heard us. They know what we were doing here!” Your eyes were rounded in embarrassment, looking at your almost unbothered husband. 
“You’re pregnant with my baby, princess. I’m sure everyone has already figured out that we have sex.” Rafe smirked at you again. “Give me five minutes!” He said to his assistant before focusing back on you. He helped you get your dress back on properly, put himself away, zipped up his trousers and then sank in front of you on his knees to put your panties in their place. “Are you both feeling alright?” 
“Mhm, but I’m so tired now.” You yawned and lowered your head on Rafe’s shoulder, as he stood up and brought you closer to his chest; your eyes became too heavy to keep them open.   
“I know, baby. C'mon, my driver will get you home, and I will be there as soon as possible, okay? I love you both so much.” He gently touched your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb, then placing a kiss on your forehead, nose and, finally, on your puffy lips. 
“We love you too.” You smiled into the kiss before Rafe helped you get off the table and walked you out of his office. You were trying not to die from embarrassment from all the knowing looks thrown in your direction while your husband proudly placed his hand on your lower back, not even batting an eye at others. 
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godslino · 21 days
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HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.
“Do you guys have french fries?”
“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.
He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you. 
“We do, yes.” 
“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”
“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands. 
“Why would you do that?” 
Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.
“Do what?”
Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”
Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”
“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”
A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat. 
Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.
“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”
“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”
“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.” 
You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness. 
Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.
“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.
“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.
He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.
It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.
Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned. 
But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.
“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.
“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?” 
Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.
“Do I get to be in it this time?”
You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet. 
You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.
It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.
"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."
Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”
You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”
Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food. 
Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.
“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording. 
He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”
“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”
Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.
He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.
Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.
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safetypinxtales · 5 months
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Lonely with you | Azriel
summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.
words: 1.5k
warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING
notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
part 2
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You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him. 
That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest. 
The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing. 
Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees. 
The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…
… And your friend. Unfortunately.
“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long. 
Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say. 
“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.
Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course. 
… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him. 
His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–
His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight. 
Cauldron boil you.
Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.
”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle. 
“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”
Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame. 
“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose. 
That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like. 
“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.
“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–
“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“
“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with. 
Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness. 
“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”
“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.
“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”
Your mouth fell open. 
Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.
Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.
He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second. 
In his defense, you very well might have.
A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.
The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there. 
You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area. 
Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response. 
You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention. 
The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole. 
You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest. 
Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.
Like two pieces of a puzzle.
“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”
You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.
Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest. 
Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
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almost sweet music
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words: 900
warnings: 18+ only, smut, thigh job, clit rubbing, brief tit play, childhood friends to lovers, kinda somnophilia?
your eyes are open, but they might as well be closed as you look at nothing but pure darkness. you shift ever so slightly, pressing further into rafes hold.
it's not the first time you've shared a bed. he's been your friend for years, and you used to have sleepovers every weekend before your bodies developed and it became awkward.
you would still occasionally fall asleep in rafes bed, usually when the movie he picked to watch was too boring, or when you were waiting around for him and ended up taking a nap enveloped in his scent.
tonight is different. even when you share a bed, rafe never cuddles so close to you like this. yeah, you'll wake up with your head on his chest or a leg slung over his, but rafe is pressed right against your back.
his chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but you can't tell for certain if he's asleep or just relaxed having you against him.
you close your eyes, relaxing back into his hold. his soft breath fans over your shoulder, barely covered by your tank top strap.
you're about to fall asleep when you feel something poking you. your eyes open again, wider this time as rafes hip press forward.
his obvious erection grinds against your ass, slow movements fooling you into believing rafe must be asleep still, body acting on its own, much like yours does when you seek him out in your sleep.
rafe let's out a soft moan, then a mumble of your name, and now you're certain he must be awake since you've never heard him sleep talk before.
his hips begin to move faster, like he's testing out how far he can take it before you wake up. how much movement will it take for you to stir, testing how much he can get away with.
you stiffen for a brief moment before relaxing again. you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to keep your breathing regular. you don't want rafe to stop. 
to others, it's been a clear (and long) game you've been playing, both pining after each other while claiming to just be best friends. this is the first time rafe has shown any clear evidence to you of his sexual attraction. what you don't see is his longing looks whenever your back is turned, or the way he's quick to go after any guy who looks at you for a little too long.
you let out a silent curse in your head. of course he's only doing this because he thinks your asleep as he moves faster against you, barriers of fabric in the way but not stopping his light moans, almost sweet music against your ears.
you wonder how long he's been pushing up against you before it woke you up. you consider your options. sit here silently, let him cum in his pants, or take action, show you're awake, and change your life forever.
you're done with the game as you reach down, startling rafe as he lets out a curse, but you simply pull your shorts down along with your underwear, revealing your bare ass as you spread your thighs, pussy on show and already starting to get wet.
you wait for rafe to continue. when it's clear he won't, you reach behind your back to pull his cock out of his pajama pants.
rafe follows your motions, taking your lead and going as far as you will allow as you rub his cock through your folds before closing your thighs around him.
“keep going.” you say. 
the words is all the encouragement rafe needs as he begins to thrust, the slick between your thighs growing as he pushes against you.
a hand that was holding you close to him travels to your pussy, rubbing you with a single finger, the pad rough against your sensitive clit.
the sound of slapping skin is a telltale sign of what is happening in the dark, as rafes hips meet your ass with every thrust.
you long for him to press into your cunt, but you know you need to have an actual discussion about what this is before allowing him to fuck you properly. the thighs will have to do.
rafe rubs faster, with a clear purpose as his cock swells. you can tell he's not far off, and the pure excitement from finally being with rafe also has your high growing.
you press further into his chest as your thighs squeeze together as tight as you can force them, letting out a moan when rafe spills, cum spurting through the gap onto the bed sheet.
he leaves his cock to soften between your legs as his finger keeps working on you, free hand coming to grab your chest over your shirt, hand possessively gripping your tits until your back arches, a strangled moan leaving your lips as you cum.
rafes hands disappear from off of you. you turn to face him, but can't see his expression.
“im-im sorry.” his words are enough for you to pinpoint where his mouth is as you lean in, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss.
“we can talk about it in the morning.” you say, tucking yourself back into his side. “we will cuddle and sleep and be in a much clearer headspace.”
rafe hesitates for a second before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a soft smile on his face as your breathing returns to normal, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he hears your gentle snores.
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joelscruff · 4 months
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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TEN
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masterlist | kofi | notifs | *spongebob narrator voice* 4 months later. well, i'm not gonna bore you all with excuses, god knows most of you have heard what's been goin' on with me at this point lmao. but yall have been so patient and lovely and i really really appreciate it. i hope you enjoy this chapter; it's a little bit of bliss before things get... interesting. there's still more to come (about four chapters or so) and i'll try to update much sooner next time but please remember i'm only one person & i write this for fun (and for free) in my spare time!!! ik it can be frustrating when there are long periods between updates but i'm trying my best, please know that. k love u bye 💕 chapter summary: you & joel enjoy your little weekend getaway, far from the prying eyes and ears of your parents. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age gap (reader is early 20s, joel is mid 50s), unprotected p in v sex, creampies, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink (joel has a big dick), tummy bulge, deepthroating (or...attempted deepthroating), cum swallowing, fingering, pussy kisses, ridiculous amounts of fluff, namedropping one of my fav songs of all time because i can, the tiniest mention of sexual assault (aka noah) word count: 12.9k ao3
You think you might finally understand what it means to experience happiness.
Not the feelings you've faked for most of your life, not the plastered-on smiles and faux giggles, autopilot prayers and forced gratitude. No - real happiness. That tingling sensation of nothing but pure bliss, safety, love, and peace, something that's felt far out of your reach for most of your life. It swells in your chest, makes a home in your heart as you nuzzle into fluffy pillows, warm bedsheets, and feel yourself drift in and out of consciousness, completely and utterly relaxed. Happy, you can't help but think to yourself, I'm so happy.
You're aware of Joel's presence, fading in and out here and there as he wipes a damp cloth between your legs, across your stomach, down your thighs - taking care of you, making sure you're comfortable. Afterward he cuddles in behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, buries his face in the back of your neck and inhales deeply; you wonder if he's feeling the exact same way you are right now - god, you hope he is.
"That felt so good," you murmur to him softly, eyes still closed, "Felt so good, Joel."
He kisses your neck, holds you tighter in his embrace, "I know, babygirl."
"Can still feel you inside me," you breathe, "It's like you're still there."
He chuckles softly, "Not to burst your bubble but that's probably cum. Couldn't get all of it with the cloth." The words that should be dirty - should seem shameful - do nothing but send a warm tingle down your spine, a sleepy smile to your face. You know he's right - you can still feel something warm deep inside you, a slow trickle making its way to your opening, but there's something else. You're still pulsing every so often around the phantom of a shape, an echo of what was still there only a few moments ago.
"It's not just that," you shuffle in the sheets, nuzzling your face further into the pillow, "it's like... like you're still in there, spreading me open."
He groans and his grip around you tightens, fingertips pressing into the malleable softness of your belly. He leans down to press a small kiss to your ear, "Can't just say stuff like that, angel. Gonna get me hard again." You shiver.
"Good," you whisper, "'Cause I want you to do it again."
His legs tangle with yours under the sheets as he pulls you in, scruff nuzzling against the bare skin of your shoulder, "We'll wait a little bit," he murmurs, "You're gonna start feelin' a little sore soon, if you don't already."
"I don't," you breathe, and you mean it. "Doesn't hurt at all, really. It... it didn't hurt. I always thought it would hurt."
You can almost feel his frown against your skin, "S'not supposed to hurt," he murmurs, "Woulda stopped if you'd been in any pain."
You smile, "I know you would've."
He hums into your hair, strokes his hand down along your arm, "S'good," he mumbles, and you're suddenly aware of the heaviness in his voice, the way his lips wrap lazily around the words.
"Are you sleepy?" you ask softly.
"Yeah, baby," he breathes, "M'sleepy."
You smile at the adorable admission, then lean back into his embrace and settle in. The sun is starting to go down, casting the room in long orange and blue shadows, warm and comforting. Your eyes close again and you focus on that blissful feeling, on the weight of Joel's naked body behind you holding you close, the sound of his breathing, his smell. On the fact that you've never felt more safe in your entire life.
"I'm so glad it was you," you whisper, and you don't mind if he's already fallen asleep.
--
You're not sure how long you both nap, but you wake up soon after to a completely dark hotel room, save for the flickering lights from the traffic below and the warm glow of the buildings outside the window. Your eyes flutter for a few seconds as your brain reconnects you to the present, and you're suddenly very aware of a dull ache in your groin, an unpleasant throb that hadn't been there earlier.
"Ow," you mumble incoherently, reaching blindly for the blankets and pulling them back to peer down at yourself, but the room is so dark that it's difficult to see anything properly, "Ow."
"S'wrong?" you hear Joel mumble beside you, stirring from his own slumber.
You wince in embarrassment, shaking your head, "It's nothing, go back to sleep."
"Y'said 'ow'," you feel him sit up and reach over to turn on the lamp, "You okay?"
As soon as the lamplight floods the room your eyes cast downward, half expecting to see some medical emergency, some horrific reason for the vacation to end early, to ruin everything before it's barely even started - but thankfully it's none of those things. You're just a little swollen - puffier than usual - and aching, but not in a good way. You bring your hand down and cup yourself gently, hissing a bit when your fingers brush against your opening; it feels almost like a bruise.
"Oh, honey," Joel murmurs, and you turn your head to see his brows furrowing in concern, "Y'sore?"
You wince, biting your lip, "Um, a little."
He frowns and pulls his own side of the blankets back, and you can't help the warmth that floods your cheeks when you see his exposed body; the dark hair wisping across his tan skin, his soft belly and strong thighs - and his cock, soft and heavy and impossible not to look at. You've seen him naked several times at this point but every time still somehow feels like the first, like it's brand new. You watch as he crawls downward and gently places his hand on top of yours.
"Lemme see," he murmurs softly, and you allow him to pull your hand back, exposing your sore pussy to him. His brow furrows, "Aw baby, you're all swollen."
"Is that normal?"
He nods, eyes still trailing up and down, "It's normal," he assures you, "It's probably worse 'cause - well," he smiles sheepishly, peering up at you.
"'Cause you're so big," you finish for him, your own lips turning up into a smirk, and he chuckles.
"Yeah, that." You watch as he brings his hands down and very carefully thumbs your outer lips, pulls them apart to assess what's inside. He groans, and you're about to ask what's wrong when you see a thin stream of his cum dribble out onto the sheets below.
"Fuck," you both whisper at the same time, and when your eyes meet you can see that his are suddenly dark, glassy. You feel yourself begin to throb beneath his touch.
"Still full o'me," he murmurs, eyes trailing back down to where you're dripping, "Messy girl."
Your own eyes go hooded as you watch him lean down and press a small kiss to your clit; your hips buck up, a whimper slipping past your lips as his whiskers prickle deliciously against your sensitive skin. He smiles against you, kisses your clit again and darts his tongue out to taste, just for a moment. You whine.
"I know what you need, babygirl" he whispers, nosing your mound and closing his eyes, "I know what'll help."
Your mind races with possibilities. "Wh-what?"
He suddenly pulls back, crooked smile lighting up his beautiful face, "A bath. It'll help with the soreness." Oh. He presses another kiss to your clit, "If I can bring myself to stop kissin' this perfect pussy."
You giggle softly and he opens his eyes to look up at you again, smiling tenderly. He reluctantly pulls himself off you and climbs off the bed, reaching down to grab his discarded underwear from the floor. "I'll start runnin' the water," he tells you softly, pulling them on and taking a step forward to brush your hair out of your face, "You just relax, sweet girl. Don't move a muscle."
The bath is warm and inviting, lit candles lining the counter and floor and dousing the room in a warm glow; it's hard to believe only a few hours earlier you were on the verge of a panic attack on these very tiles. Now you lean back against the cool rim of the claw foot tub, eyes closed as you submerge yourself in the hot water. There's no panic or anxiety in your body anymore, just warmth and comfort and the welcome ache in your groin, the smell of vanilla in your nose.
"Good temp?" Joel asks softly nearby, and you hear his hand breach the surface of the water, testing the heat. You smile.
"Perfect," you breathe, eyes still closed, "Thank you."
His hand brushes lightly against yours under the water and he squeezes it gently, then murmurs, "I'll give you some privacy."
Your eyes snap open, "No," you cradle his hand in both of yours as your brows furrow, "Stay."
A smile breaks across his face, charming and boyish as he seats himself down next to the bathtub with barely any hesitation, like he'd been hoping you'd say that. He keeps hold of your hand beneath the water and tilts his face toward yours - you press your forehead against his and breathe a long sigh of relief.
"Feelin' okay?" he murmurs, "Emotionally?"
You nod, sighing contentedly, "More than okay," you whisper, "I... I still can't believe it actually happened." Your lips twitch upward and you press a soft kiss to his cheek, closing your eyes, "Thank you."
He squeezes your hand again beneath the water before pulling out and bringing it upwards to cradle your face, tilting your head to look at him. His eyes are still a bit sleepy, hair sticking up in all directions and that beautiful smile still lighting up his face as he thumbs your cheek.
"I should be thankin' you," he breathes, "For trustin' me like that, bein' so vulnerable with me." He leans in to kiss you tenderly, but his words send a sudden flutter of insecurity through your body and you pull back to look at him again, unsure.
"Was I... was I good at it?" you ask quietly, "Did I do okay?"
"Oh, angel," he murmurs, bringing his other hand up to cup both your cheeks and brush his nose gently against yours, "You did so good. So, so, so good."
He ends up washing your hair, a small but significant gesture that makes the feelings from earlier bubble up again, the warm fondness and tenderness and love. You lean back in the tub, eyes closed, lost in the sensations of his big hands deftly applying the shampoo and conditioner, massaging it into your scalp and making your eyes roll back. It's ridiculous how even this makes you throb beneath the surface, the ache dissipating a bit in the hot water. So much so that when he caps the conditioner and rinses your hair once again, you reach up to take his hand and squeeze, eyes still shut.
"Touch me," you whisper, voice already desperate, "Please."
He doesn't need any convincing, inching toward the side of the tub and reaching inside to cup your pussy in his big hand again, softly rubbing your clit. You whimper and tremble, gripping the edge of the tub for support and whining when he speeds up, circling and rubbing it exactly how you like it.
"Poor little pussy," you hear him murmur, "Just needs some relief after gettin' fucked like that, doesn't she baby?"
"Mmhmm," you manage to hum, squeezing the sides of the tub and nodding furiously, "Y-yeah."
"Took so much cock in this little hole," he whispers, and that's enough to send you over the edge, eyes snapping open as you shake and shiver in the hot water. You see him sitting there, smiling at you with a devious glint in his eyes. He knows exactly the effect he has on you.
--
"What do we do now?" you ask him softly from the couch a little while later, carefully scrunching a towel in your hair and watching as he changes the bedsheets upon your request - you'd felt a bit embarrassed asking, but you'd really rather not sleep in a wet spot. He'd been more than gracious in honoring your request.
It's late, but the nap and the bath have left you feeling wide awake, and you have to admit that you're feeling a bit hungry too despite the full meal earlier. Does sex make you hungry? You file it as a question to ask Tasha.
"Whatever you wanna do, darlin'," he says with a smile, turning down the sheets and gesturing for you to join him in bed again, "C'mere."
You give your hair one last squeeze and pad over to the bed, clad in Joel's Grateful Dead shirt from earlier today. You don't care in the slightest that it's not necessarily the cleanest article of clothing to be wearing after a bath - it smells like him, feels like him. You just can't get enough of him.
Insatiable.
You both climb back into bed and he pulls you in immediately, tugging you close and wrapping his big arms around you. You lean back into him and feel yourself grinning without even really thinking about it, eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of his chest moving back and forth against your back with every breath.
"Always look so pretty in my shirts, babygirl," he whispers in your ear, and it sends tingles down your spine, a rush of warmth to your heart. He kisses you gently and you listen as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your damp hair. His hand travels downward and you both watch as he cups your pussy yet again, warm and soft.
"Feelin' a little better?" he asks quietly, thumb trailing gently up and down your outer lips, "Still sore?"
"Better," you reassure him gently - and you mean it; the warm water did help to ease the ache.
He hums and continues to trace your soft lips, nosing your ear and breathing deeply again, and fuck, you could get used to this. This casual intimacy, being touched without any expectations, any fear or anxiety. Feeling safe and wanted and cared for in his embrace, no worrying about getting home early, no time limit looming. Just you and him.
I love you, you want to whisper.
Your stomach growls.
He removes his hand almost immediately. "Room service," he says with a chuckle, and your eyes snap open again as he reaches over and grabs the menu on the nightstand, placing it in front of you both, "Pick your poison."
Your eyes are drawn almost immediately to the dessert section, followed by a short wave of guilt. You're craving something sweet, but you can't help but think back to being a kid again, asking for treats and being denied, feeling as if your desires were unimportant, childish, silly.
But no, you're not that scared kid anymore. You're not. You won't be.
You bite your lip, "You know what I could really go for right now?"
"What?"
"It's silly, but-"
"It ain't silly, babygirl," he murmurs, and his big hand travels down to squeeze your thigh gently, a comforting gesture, "Whatever it is, it ain't silly."
Less than a minute later he's on the phone with room service, ordering you a hot fudge sundae.
You spend the rest of the night nestled in the warmth of your hotel bed, flicking between channels, legs tangled together beneath the sheets as you take turns scooping heaping spoons of ice cream back and forth. Your mouth and fingertips are sticky, chocolate lining your lips, dribbles of melted vanilla dolloped on your chin which Joel wastes no time in delicately lapping up with his tongue.
"God, you're so fuckin' sweet," he whispers to you, kisses you softly, darts his tongue out to taste again. You hum against his lips and try to keep your emotions at bay; he tastes like chocolate and vanilla and safety.
--
Waking up is different with the morning sun shining brightly through the hotel windows, but that's not the only thing that's different; you notice as your eyes flutter open that the ache in your groin is gone, replaced by a growing hunger and arousal in the pit of your stomach.
Oh, wow.
Joel's arms are around you, wrapped strong and solid, and when you turn within them and see him sleeping next to you, the hunger only grows. God, he's so handsome like this - the grey in his hair sparkling in the early light, jaw soft and lax with sleep, cheeks flushed. Almost angelic in his own way, gentle and peaceful.
Until his eyelashes begin to flutter delicately against the streams of sunlight, brow furrowing in sleepy confusion at your sudden movement; he's awake.
The desire in your belly burns.
"You look so cute," you whisper without even really thinking about it, and his eyelashes halt their fluttering to give you another look of confusion.
"Cute's not exactly a word I'd use to describe myself," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, "S'all you."
"Well, I would," you reply with a smile, watching as he closes his eyes again and nestles his face into the pillow. You reach forward to gently thumb one of the lines at the corner of his mouth, deep-set and soft beneath your touch. His eyelids twitch but he doesn't open them, "You're so soft too," you admit quietly.
"Again," he breathes, lips turning up slightly into a sleepy smile, "Not a word I'd use."
"Cute and soft," you repeat, thumb moving downward to trace the shape of his bottom lip, "And mine."
He chuckles under his breath, face smooshing a little more into the pillow, "M'yours," he murmurs, "all yours."
All yours.
You lean in even closer and inhale deeply, nose trailing up and down along his temple. Your eyes almost roll back at the scent of him, the masculine and heady aroma of his sweat alighting your senses. You're wide awake now, pussy throbbing somewhere below as you press a kiss to the apple of his cheek, tongue darting out to taste his skin.
His eyes open halfway, eyebrow raising as he sleepily watches you work your mouth up and down the side of his face, breath coming quicker and more frantic as your legs wind around him under the sheets. Obliging your desperation, his big arms tighten around you and he rolls the both of you, allowing you to settle on top of his large, warm body.
You stare down at him, hunger clear in your eyes.
"You were inside me," you whisper.
His mouth turns up at the corners, "I was."
"It felt really good."
"It did."
You lean your face down to trace your nose along his cheekbone again, eyes hooded, voice needy.
"I want you to be inside me again."
He peers up at you, sleepiness already fading from his expression as he watches yours with mirrored desire, "Yeah? You want me to be inside you right now?"
You nod, "Yes, please."
"Then turn over on your side, angel."
A little confused but certainly not opposed, you do as he says, rolling back over onto your side and resting your head softly against your pillow. You feel his hand dip downwards beneath the sheets, then his fingertips glide smoothly along your abdomen. Your heart hammers in your chest when he lifts up your - or rather, his - shirt and thumbs your tummy gently.
"Are y'still sore?" he murmurs, "How d'you feel?"
"M'wet, Joel," you whimper, grinding back against the blankets and trying to feel him, "M'really wet."
"Lemme feel," he breathes, hand trailing downward even further. His fingers dip into your soft, soaked centre and a low groan rumbles in his throat, "Oh babygirl, so wet for me."
"Put it in," you whimper, not caring how pathetic and needy you probably sound, "Please, Joel, put it in me again."
"Christ," you hear him mutter, arousal burning in his voice, "Okay baby, hold still, I'll put it in. I'll make you feel better."
Seconds later you feel the heat of his tip crowding the space at your entrance, already wet and sticky. A soft moan falls from your throat at the sensation, eyes closing as you feel Joel's hand cup your leg and pull it upwards, holding you open. He hooks it in the crook of his arm, shuffling forward a bit and pushing the head of his cock inside your heat.
"Oh, fuck," you whine, head falling backwards. You feel his nose in your hair again, feel the stretch of your pussy and the widening of your thighs as he pulls your leg up even more.
"Yeah, there you go," he murmurs, pushing inside further. He goes slow, takes his time, until he's fully sheathed inside of you and your eyes are rolling back on their own accord, quiet whimpers tumbling past your lips. "Yeah, look at you takin' that cock."
As if by muscle memory your hand reaches downwards to cup the protruding shape of him at the bottom of your tummy, a low whine in your throat. He's so big inside you, nestled perfectly within the deepest parts of your body just like he'd been last night, large and warm.
"Feels so good," you manage to gasp out, other hand clenching into a fist against your pillow, "So good, so good." It's almost a mantra, voice breathless as you squish your face against the cotton and push back almost lazily against him, his balls settling heavy and warm at the base of your ass. You can feel every twitch of his shaft, the way the tip pulses against that special spot within.
"Yeah, you like bein' full like that, don't you baby?" he murmurs, "Don't even need me to move, do you? Just like feelin' it in there, huh?"
And you almost hate how right he is, how just the sensation of being so full of him already has you on the edge of an orgasm without any stimulation. Because you want more, you want what he gave you last night, want him to fuck you even firmer, deeper, without holding back. You want it to last hours.
But you know it's too much before he even starts to move, that familiar ache in your groin returning as your walls constrict around the long shape of him. He pulls out slowly, takes his time, pushes back in at a snail's pace. You feel a tickling sensation against your clit, his pubic hair pressing deliciously against the wet skin as he fills you - and without any warning, you start to come.
"Fuckfuckfuck," you cry out into the sunlit hotel room, trembling in his arms, legs shaking. You can tell in his body language behind you that he's taken aback by your sudden release, hand suddenly dropping from your calf so he can palm your sternum and pull you against him.
"Oh, honey," he groans, simultaneously tender and aroused, "Are you comin', baby? You comin' just from bein' stuffed full like that?"
"Yes," you grit out, voice a high keen as your body shakes and your release stretches out before the both of you in quick spasms, "Yes, I'm sorry."
"Nonono, no sorries," his voice is honey in your ear, fingertips grazing your nipples as he lays his palm flat against your chest, "You're a good girl, angel. You're such a good girl."
You continue to spasm on his cock, legs quivering and pathetic whines tearing from your throat until your orgasm has passed and you're just leaning back into his embrace, eyes closed. You breathe deeply, lashes fluttering when he noses your jaw and presses a soft kiss to the space beneath.
"S'alot for you," he murmurs, "I know it's a lot, babygirl. Don't ever gotta apologize for comin' too fast, not to me."
You hum softly, still extremely aware of his girthy size stretching you out somewhere below. Your eyes open and you peer downwards, brows scrunching in wonder and pleasure when you see where you're joined, where his flesh meets yours. You really are full, the base of his cock barely visible beneath your folds, the pubic hair that had caused your early release still pressed against your outer lips.
"How does it even fit?" you ask softly, almost by accident, but he just chuckles.
"The human body is a hell of a thing," he murmurs, kissing your cheek and pulling you in even closer, shuffling you on his dick just a little bit and making you wince a bit with oversensitivity, "You want me to pull out?"
"No," you shake your head and readjust yourself in his embrace, taking a breath, "No, I want you to keep going."
"Y'sure?"
"I'm sure."
He doesn't need telling twice. Within seconds he's resumed his slow and careful thrusts, almost rhythmic in their presses and pulls, filling you and emptying you in melodic succession. You reach down and take his big hand in yours, squeeze his fingers and let him fuck you like he had last night - tender, soft, comfortable. It almost doesn't feel real; how are you in a hotel room in another city, wrapped up in bed with a man three times your age, his cock buried to the hilt inside your body while you whimper and twitch in his arms? How did you get here?
"Y'know, women are a bit different than men in the orgasm department," Joel says gently behind you, stroking your hand with his thumb, "You might be able to come again if we try."
Your eyebrows go up, "Really?"
"Mmhmm," his hand slips from yours and he reaches it downward to carefully prod one of his fingers against your sensitive clit. You buck in his arms but don't protest, watching as he temporarily halts his slow thrusts to rub you softly. Your eyes go hooded, body melting like jelly in his arms as his his thick fingers slowly begin to work against the already swollen bud.
"Feel good?" he whispers.
"Yes."
He continues his careful circling, presses a kiss to your shoulder and resumes fucking into you. The sounds are pornographic in nature, surrounding your senses and filling the room with the low slap of his hips against your ass and the wet squelch of your juices dripping down his palm. But it somehow doesn't feel dirty or shameful - in fact, it's hard to imagine anything that feels more right than this.
"Joel," you breathe shakily, face twisting against the pillow again, heart pounding.
"I know, feels good doesn't it, babygirl?" he noses your skin and breathes you in, hooks your leg under his arm a bit more and groans softly, "God, you're so fuckin' tight. Such a tight fuckin' pussy."
It's your pussy, you want to breathe, it's yours. I'm yours. But you can barely get any words out as his thrusts pick up speed, as the sounds get louder and his fingers against your clit become firmer in their movements. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge again, the fire in your belly burning hotter than ever as you let him crowd your space as much as possible, let his body push yours further and further until your eyes are rolling back and all you can feel is the steady thrust of his big cock and the girth of his fingers against your pussy.
"I'm coming," you moan out weakly, "M'coming again, Joel."
You don't hear what he says in response, ears muffled as if you're underwater, pleasure spreading throughout your body and hitting you at full force like a hurricane as he fucks you through it. You're barely aware of the sounds you're making, high pitched and almost feral as his hips slap against yours a few more times. And then you feel it, the hot pulses of his cum painting your insides, filling you up as his cock spasms and twitches deep inside.
"Oh, fuck," he groans, voice thick with pleasure and sleep as he buries his face in your hair, hips stuttering, "Fuck. Take it, there you go."
Yeah, you could get used to this.
--
You'd been pretty sure you wouldn't leave the hotel room this weekend, just like you'd told him a few days prior. The thought of staying wrapped up in bedsheets, warm bodies pressed up against each other, sharing soft kisses and quiet whispers and tender looks...it'd be more than enough for an enjoyable getaway.
But it's hot, way hotter than you'd anticipated before arriving - and the pool is calling your name.
Or maybe something else is calling your name.
You stand in the bathroom and stare at your bikini clad form, a smile curving your lips as you assess the thin straps and baby pink frills. To think you'd tried to return this to Joel, briefly refused to wear it. Now you're about to don it in front of a hotel pool full of people like a normal woman, like someone without shame, without guilt, without a mother who'd skin her alive if she saw her wearing it.
Your smile falters.
You'd texted your mother after getting out of bed, apologized once again for missing her calls last night and told her you had a "busy" day at the festival ahead of you, that you'd let her know when you leave tomorrow. All she'd said in response was Ok.
You'd climbed back into bed defeatedly, finding a home against Joel's naked form, "She's mad at me," you'd murmured softly against his bare chest, squished into his side with his heartbeat thrumming in your ear.
"Don't think about her right now," he'd whispered, carding his fingers gently through your hair, "Think about this. How this feels."
He'd peered at you so softly, so full of warmth and affection. Those three words had been on the tip of your tongue again, so close to tumbling past your swollen lips - but you'd held it in.
It hadn't stopped you from texting Tasha though:
we had sex and i love him.
UM!! UMMM!!!! DETAILS????
monday!!! i'll call you
🫡 ok slut just leave me hangin i see how it is. AT LEAST TELL ME HE LIKED THE LINGERIE.
oh he liked it :)
queen shit
"Hi, pretty girl," Joel's voice says suddenly, and you're snapped from your reflection in the mirror to find him leaning against the doorway, clad in a pair of swim trunks and a Bob Dylan t-shirt, "Look at you."
You pose a little bit, hand on your hip, "Think the pool boys will like it?"
He laughs lightly, shaking his head, "I don't doubt it, but they might have some competition." He holds out his hand for you and you take it, stepping forward to let him pull you in close.
"They couldn't hold a candle to you," you whisper honestly, and he kisses your forehead with a smile, thumbing the corner of your mouth.
"Wait 'til you see my breaststroke, that'll really get you goin'."
You snort and slap his arm playfully, "Lead the way, pool boy."
--
Joel may have just been teasing about his swimming ability, but he certainly hadn't been wrong about it getting you going. You watch from the comfort of a lounge chair as he whips back and forth across the broad expanse of the hotel pool like a bullet, kicking off from end to end without much effort at all. His arms are strong and lean, body fast and nimble as the water splashes around his broad form. Every so often his face peeks up from the water and you catch a glimpse of his drenched scruff, the way the greying locks of his hair curl down his forehead into his eyes. God, he's fucking gorgeous.
You're laid out in your bikini just watching, letting him expel some energy before you join him. He'd told you he likes swimming but doesn't get to do it as much as he'd like, what with his work responsibilities. You wonder if he'd ever want to swim in your parent's pool...
You shake the thought away as soon as you think of it. There's no feasible way that could work, no option that wouldn't involve an obscene amount of risk. But still... the thought of watching him from the comfort of your own backyard, just completely alone without any bystanders or hotel guests...
"You gonna join me or what?" Joel suddenly calls from the water, and you blink the thoughts away and throw him a grin. He wades near the shallow end, arms coming up to lean against the concrete edge as he peers at you. "Don't keep me waitin', baby."
You feel your cheeks warm, unable to help but glance back and forth to see if anyone is watching, listening. Everyone else seems to be minding their own business, lost in their own conversations, their own fun. Nobody cares that you're here with him. Nobody cares what you're wearing.
Slipping from the lounge chair, you totter over to the edge where Joel resides and slowly sink down onto the concrete, kicking your legs over the side to seat yourself in front of him.
"God, these legs," he almost groans, immediately taking one in his hands and massaging your calf, your knee, your thigh, "Look at you."
"Stop acting like you haven't seen me naked," you tease, though you still feel a bit shy underneath his gaze as he moves his attention to your other leg.
"Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop admirin' this body," he seems lost in his own movements as he caresses the space behind your knee, "You're so god damn beautiful." His hands suddenly wrap around your waist and without much warning he's carefully pulling you down into the water, moving you in close. On instinct your arms come up to wrap around his neck.
"How the hell am I here with you right now, huh?" he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose gently against yours, "How're you even real?"
"I could ask you the same thing," you reply a little breathlessly, "I've been asking myself that since we got here."
He slowly turns your bodies in the water, peering down into your eyes like you're the only people here - and you might as well be. You're unable to stop yourself from leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, from letting your tongue dart out to gently explore his mouth; he tastes like toothpaste and chlorine.
"Y'gonna swim with me?" he asks after you've pulled away, pupils blown a bit wider, "Gonna put that little swimsuit to good use?"
"I think I'm putting it to good use right now," you breathe, inching closer so your breasts are pushing against his chest. You're genuinely surprising yourself at your own boldness, especially in such a crowded place - it's almost like you're a different person here, the person you're supposed to be, confidence coursing through your veins. You stand on your tiptoes beneath the water, bringing one of your legs up to wind around his waist.
"Hmm," he hums, and his face is still dripping with water, the wrinkles in his skin peppered with little droplets that make you crazy, "You do have a point there, darlin'."
You lean in again to kiss him, feel a burst of pride in your chest when you see the sudden hunger and arousal in his expression. Just before your lips touch however, you pull back from him and throw yourself into the water, turning back to toss him a cheeky grin.
"Gotta catch me first," you giggle, then speed off in the opposite direction, leaving him standing there with a look of surprise etched on his face - followed quickly by a look of determination.
"Oh, I will," he practically growls, diving into the water in the same manner and reaching out to grab your ankle.
Time passes quickly in the pool, Joel chasing you back and forth, catching you time and time again until you're a giggling mess with tears streaming down your face and his fingers pinching your sides. You can't remember the last time you had this much fun, felt so free and light. You suppose your night out with Tasha had been a fun experience for the most part, until you remember the vague feeling of an unfamiliar body pressed against you from behind and the smell of alcohol crowding your senses on the dance floor.
No, don't think about that.
Before long you've exhausted yourselves, settled back near the edge of the pool where you started and just softly talking to each other. His big hands are all over you beneath the water, palms wide on your bare hips and tummy, caressing your thighs and your back, touching everywhere he can reach. You feel almost lightheaded with desire, eyes hooded as you peer up at him and tighten your arms around his neck, pull him closer and silently beg for more. You can feel the shape of his hardening cock through his swim trunks, pressed wet and heavy against your thigh. It makes you salivate.
You suddenly hook your chin into his shoulder, bury your face in his neck and whisper, "I wanna suck it, Joel."
"Yeah?" he murmurs, hands exploring your back and holding you tighter against him, letting you rut softly against his bulge, "You wanna go back to the room and suck on it, babygirl?"
You nod ferociously against him, "Yes. Please."
It doesn't take long at all for you both to be out of the pool and making your way back over to the chairs to grab your towels. It's frantic the way you rush to dry off, slipping back into your flip flops and shaking the water from your hair as quickly as possible. Joel follows suit, ruffling his own towel through his hair and making your body burn with need, lost in how sexy he looks with water droplets cascading down his large and strong form, dipping down his sternum and into his belly button. All you can think while you look at him is how badly you want to lick, to taste.
You're making your way back toward the entrance together when a woman runs up behind you, calling out, "Wait, hang on!" You both turn, confusion in your expressions as she reaches you and holds out something in her hand - your phone.
"I think you or your dad left this behind, sweetie," she says with a smile and places it in your grasp, "Gotta be careful!"
"Th-thank you," you manage to stutter out, eyes wide as she nods and turns away from you to head back toward the pool.
You stand there dumbstruck for a moment, thoughts muddled.
You or your dad.
Your dad.
You turn to Joel then. He's looking at you with what you can only describe as apprehension, lips downturned into a frown as he stands and waits for you to say something - anything. You stare back, words failing you.
And then you burst out laughing.
His apprehension turns into a smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs along with you and squeezes your hand in his tightly - as if to say, this isn't wrong, what we have isn't wrong and you know that. And you do, which is why he has to practically drag you back inside the hotel as you double over and heave out laugh after laugh, tears in your eyes.
"Silly girl," you hear him mumble under his breath fondly as he leads you to the elevator, and all you can do is keep giggling.
--
"I love your cock."
Your knees dig into the plush rug of the hotel room, ass sitting atop the balls of your feet as you kneel between Joel's wide legs. He's sitting comfortably on the couch, one hand resting to the side while the other strokes circles into the apple of your cheek. His cock is out of his swim trunks, heavy and hard in your palm as you slowly stroke him up and down, up and down, heart pounding in your chest.
You've done this to him before, you remind yourself, and he said it was good.
But not like this, another part of you argues, not properly.
"Yeah, you love it?" he murmurs, breaking you out of your thoughts. With his words his hand drops from your face and joins yours on his shaft, helps direct it toward your cheek so he can press the tip ever so gently against it, "What d'you love about it, baby? Tell me. Wanna know."
"It's so big, Joel," you practically whimper, brows furrowing together at the sensation of his warm stickiness on your face, "So big and so thick and long."
"I know, baby," he coos softly, smearing it along your jaw in a way that has goosebumps rising all over your flesh, "Bigger than your pretty face, huh?" At his words he delicately lays the length of his cock against your face from base to tip, lets it rest there as you close your eyes and try to calm your breathing. You're so fucking turned on.
"Big," you repeat, as if no other words can find their way to your brain, as if your brain doesn't even exist; all that exists is this. The feeling of his warm dick laying heavy across your face, precum leaking out onto your forehead.
"And what's it taste like, babygirl?" He's suddenly moving it downward, towards your mouth, and you happily lean forward to lap at the tip. It pulses against you, leaks onto the pink softness of your tongue. "Tell me what it tastes like."
"Kinda salty," you whisper, peering up at him with big eyes, "But good, it still tastes good to me." Your nose scrunches and you peer up at him sheepishly, "Tasha said it's not supposed to."
He laughs breathlessly, taps the tip against your bottom lip, and when more precum dribbles out you allow it to drip into your mouth. You swallow, eyes never leaving his, then swirl your tongue all around the head before slowly taking it into your mouth and suctioning carefully.
"God, you make me fuckin' crazy," his voice rumbles in his chest, eyes hooded, "Look at you suckin' on my cock." After a few seconds he pulls it out and taps your lips with it again, hissing a bit through his teeth, "Fuck, this mouth. And those eyes," his head leans back against the couch and he groans, low and deep, "You gotta stop lookin' at me like that, angel. M'not gonna last."
"How am I looking at you?" you ask shyly, a smile playing at your lips.
"Like... you're just so new to everything."
"But I am," you say with a breathless giggle, "It is new to me."
He smiles fondly down at you on your knees in front of him, so vulnerable, "I know," he tells you, "It makes me want you so bad."
"You have me," you whisper, leaning forward to mouth at the head of his cock once again, "M'yours, Joel."
His lids go heavy as you suckle gently on the tip again, reveling in the masculine taste of him and the way you can feel his heartbeat on the tip of your tongue. You suck it the same way you did last time - like a sucker or a popsicle - and you hope it feels good to him, hope you're doing it right.
"That's so good, baby," he murmurs, and you whimper at his praise.
You pop him out of your mouth and take a deep breath, peering up at him curiously, "Can...can you..."
His brow furrows, "Can I what, angel?"
"Can you show me how to... how to take all of it? Like, how to put it in my throat?"
The expression on his face is hard to describe, a mix of disbelief and untamed arousal. His mouth opens to speak but he doesn't say anything, taking a few seconds to formulate a response before clearing his throat and giving you a weak - and slightly wrecked - smile.
"Y'sure you wanna try that?" he asks you, ever the gentleman, "That's....it's a lot to take in your throat, babygirl."
"I know," you breathe, sincerity in your eyes, "But I wanna try."
He reaches down and thumbs a stray hair from your face, pushes it behind your ear, "You're probably gonna gag," he murmurs gently - a warning. "It might be uncomfortable for you."
You raise an eyebrow, "So... you don't want me to?"
He laughs breathlessly, "I... I didn't say I don't want it. But I don't want you to try something you don't feel ready for," he frowns, "Don't want you to feel any pressure with me."
"I don't," you admit honestly, "I don't feel any pressure, Joel, I promise. I just...really wanna try it. I want you to show me."
He takes a deep breath, strokes your cheek gently and then reaches down to hold the base of his cock again. Your hands fall to his thighs, still clad in his swim trunks.
"Lemme just see how far you can go without gaggin' first," he tells you softly, patiently, "Want you to stop when you feel it in that spot, okay? Don't go any further than that."
You nod, already beyond excited that you're learning something new, something that'll make him feel good. You open your mouth to take him back inside but he touches your face again, stopping you.
"Deep breath," he advises quietly. You do as you're told.
He helps guide the fat head of his cock past your lips, watches as you very slowly ease yourself down. You close your eyes, all your focus centered on this singular task, fighting to push past the slight discomfort of having your mouth stuffed so full. It takes barely a moment for you to reach the point he was talking about, when you feel the head of his cock brush ever so slightly against your gag reflex. On instinct, your eyes snap open, your entire body freezing in place.
"Right there?" he asks quietly, but you know he's not waiting for an answer, knows you couldn't talk even if you wanted to, "That's so much baby, good girl." His praise send throbs of pleasure to your pussy, warmth to your cheeks. Your eyes meet his and you can see how turned on he is, see the way the corners of his mouth twitch with pleasure. "Let go when you're ready, honey."
You hold yourself there for a few more seconds, eyes watering a little bit as you hold his gaze, just testing the power of your lungs and the strain of your jaw. When it becomes too much you pull your mouth off him and find yourself gasping for breath, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as drool spills down your chin.
"How was that?" he asks, thumbing your cheek again with one hand and stroking himself with the other, working your saliva up and down his length, "Uncomfortable?"
You shake your head, "It was good," you whisper, voice a bit crackly, "I wanna try and take more, can I?"
He nods, smiles encouragingly and taps his swollen cockhead against your bottom lip again, slow and tantalizing, "Course you can, babygirl," he murmurs, "Deep breath."
You inhale deeply again, gathering as much air into your lungs as possible before sinking your mouth down onto him and allowing his thick girth to fill you all over again. This time when you feel him reach that spot, you let yourself keep going just a little bit further, allow the head of his cock to push more firmly against it and slip the tiniest bit into the back of your throat.
You gag immediately.
It's very loud; a dry wretch that you can admit sounds absolutely horrific in the current circumstance. Before you can even really process what to do next, he's tugging you off his cock, voice suddenly worried, frantic, "Okay, no, that's too much," he says quickly, and you look up to see him shaking his head, "You're gonna hurt yourself."
"M'fine," you try to garble out, but you're shocked when just talking suddenly sends you into a coughing fit. You bang on your chest and squeeze his thigh with your other hand, feeling more drool cascade down your chin and onto your bare chest.
"Angel," he says soothingly, leaning forward to pat your back, brows furrowed again in concern, "I'm sorry, honey."
You shake your head, "I-I'm okay," you splutter out, "Just gimme a second."
"It's too much," he repeats, almost pleading, "Please, baby, I don't wanna see you struggle, that's not fun for me."
As much as you hate the idea of giving up, you have to admit that he's right. That wretch had not been pleasant, and while you think you could eventually learn to take all of him, maybe forcing yourself to do it when you're supposed to be having fun on vacation isn't the best time.
"Okay," you mumble defeatedly, sitting back on your knees, "But I still wanna suck it."
He laughs again, relief flooding his features as he leans back on the couch and smiles crookedly at you, "You can still suck it, darlin'. Just take your time and don't push your limits, alright? Promise me."
"I promise."
You spend the next fifteen minutes or so playing with Joel's cock, stroking it with your hand, kitten licking along the shaft and head, just touching as much as you can without any time pressure for once. He pets your hair as he watches you, thumbs your cheeks and dimples, small groans tumbling past his lips, face scrunched in pleasure as you explore. You take as much of him as you can in your mouth, bob up and down slowly with your eyes trained on his face, feel the way his thick length twitches and pulses against your tongue.
It's almost feral the way you drink him down, hollowing your cheeks and basking in the way his body responds to you. You're so wet, aching to touch yourself but wanting this moment to be just for him, a thank you for this weekend, this hotel, for everything. Instead you palm his balls, roll them in your palm and revel in the desperate sounds he makes.
"I love your cock," you whine, repeating your earlier statement as you fist it up and down with spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, "I love it so much, Joel." You can feel yourself dripping in your bikini bottoms, feel your own slick gathering on your inner thighs.
"I know, baby," he gasps out, running one hand through his hair and the other through yours as his belly tenses and untenses, as his thighs tremble, "I know you love it, s'all yours, baby. S'your cock."
"My cock," you echo, almost a whimper, "Mine."
"Yours, it's yours," he moans loudly, hands curling into fists as his head hits the back of the couch, "Shit, I'm gonna come."
"Come in my mouth," you tell him immediately, wasting no time in sinking back down onto his length. He doesn't ask if you're sure; he's too far gone to be a gentleman anymore, and you love it. You watch as he suddenly sits up on the couch, reaches both hands forward and cradles your head in them firmly. He helps you move up and down, groaning as he does, and then-
His cock pulses on your tongue, thick and heavy, bobbing against the roof of your mouth. You feel a burst of cum hit the back of your throat, then another, and another, all the while Joel moans and holds your head in place, toes curling into the rug. Your eyes roll back as he fills your mouth, overwhelmed by the salty taste and thick texture, and - without really meaning to - you swallow around him to make more space. He practically whines at the sensation, pulsing once more to release one final burst of his spend.
And then he's falling back against the couch, cock popping out of your mouth, expression dazed. Without thinking about it you swallow the rest of his cum, eyelashes fluttering at the odd sensation of it all slipping down your throat. So much, gone in an instant. It's only then that you actually realize what you've done.
"I swallowed it," you say, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach, "Was I supposed to swallow it?"
He laughs softly, covers his mouth with the back of his hand, "It is perfectly fine that you swallowed it, darlin'," he smiles wide and opens his arms, "C'mere."
You clamor off your knees and crawl into his lap immediately, straddling his thighs and pressing your wet bikini bottoms against the slope of his belly. He lets out a little groan, pulls you in and strokes your hair.
"You did so good," he praises you softly, kisses your temple, "So good, baby. Made me come so much."
"There was a lot," you tell him, nuzzling into his neck and letting your breathing slowly even out, "S'why I swallowed it, I was trying to make room."
"Was it okay? It didn't make you gag, did it?"
You shake your head, a pout on your lips, "Felt good in my mouth," you whisper, "I liked it."
He hums, hands trailing from your hair to your bare back where he unclasps your bikini top and lets it cascade to the floor, then reaches down and tugs at your bottoms. You lift up carefully, let him slip them down your thighs and watches as you kick them off, leaving you fully naked in his lap.
"So pretty when you're bare like this," he whispers, and it sends more slick to your folds, oozing down and making a mess on his tummy. He cups your pussy in one hand and slides two fingers easily inside of you, thumb rubbing circles against your clit. You grip his arm, eyes falling closed and pitiful little sounds slipping from your mouth. "My good girl deserves a reward for suckin' my cock so good, swallowin' all that cum, don't you think?"
You nod, biting down on your lip and letting him fuck you with his digits, eyes rolling behind your lids.
"Yeah, you do," he answers for you, "You deserve it, angel. Always."
He makes you come easily, leaving you a messy, twitching heap in his lap as your arms wrap around his neck, body going lax and loose. After a few moments he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, helps you into the shower, smiles when you peer blearily up at him through your afterglow.
"Just close your eyes and lean against me," he tells you softly as the water falls, removing his swim trunks and getting in to stand behind you, "I'll get you cleaned up, sweetheart."
--
You nap after your shower, exhausted and sated in every possible way. Joel wakes you up around two o'clock with more room service - sandwiches and soup that you devour with bright eyes and light conversation side by side in bed. It's domestic bliss the way he thumbs mustard from your lips, pours you more water, slices your key lime pie and feeds it to you with a fond smile.
I love you I love you I love you.
"Would it absolutely ruin this moment if I suggested tryin' our hand at a hymn?" he asks when you've both finished, wiping the crumbs on his fingers with a napkin and gesturing to his guitar case in the corner of the room.
You grimace, "I guess not."
"I'm just thinkin' about your parents," he places his hand on your hip - clad in another one of his shirts - and gives you a sympathetic smile, "It's probably best to pick somethin' and have it ready."
You nod. You know he's right, that your lack of preparedness these past few weeks has been pretty reckless considering it's been the entire "reason" you've been seeing him. With a sigh you slip out from under the covers and traipse over to the couch, listening as Joel unclasps the guitar case.
"I did some research," he tells you as he walks over, hooking the strap over his shoulders as he goes, "I think our best bet for an easy tune is How Great Thou Art. Pretty repetitive chord progression, only uses G, C, and D."
You make a face, crossing your arms, "I can't believe I have to do this."
He laughs, "It was either that or Come Ye Sinners, and I think that one's a little too on the nose, don't you think?" He tosses you a smile and you can't help but return it, feeling your frustration melt away under his gaze.
"Can we do that thing again where I get a reward?" you ask shyly, biting your lip. His eyebrows go up, a smirk lighting his face.
"Hmm, I think that's doable," he sits down beside you, tuning the guitar, "What'd you have in mind?" You notice the way his eyes dart toward your groin and your cheeks warm.
"I was actually thinking that maybe..." your hands play with the hem of his shirt nervously, unsure what he'll say, "maybe you could play something for me? You said last night that you've written some songs," you shrug, trying to be nonchalant, "I'd... I'd really like to hear one, if you wouldn't mind."
He peers at you for a few seconds, smirk fading briefly only to be replaced with a tender smile, eyes softening as he gazes at you. Warmth blooms in your chest. You never want him to stop looking at you like that.
"I can do that," he tells you quietly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, "I mean... I can't promise it'll be good, but-"
"I don't care."
He chuckles and nods, grips the guitar again and clears his throat, "Well, alright then. Let's get started."
For the first time ever, the lesson is actually a lesson. No undercurrent of sex, no inappropriate touching or sensual glances, no teasing or filthy words. You're not sure how you're able to hold yourself back so easily, able to really focus on what Joel is saying and showing you, helping place your fingers in the right locations and teach you the strumming techniques. Maybe it's because you're tired - you did come three times already today - but it's not just that.
It just feels so... normal. So easy. You think back to that first lesson, the nervousness you'd felt and the pounding of your heart in your chest, the anticipation and the fear.
It's different now. Now that he's been inside you, become one with you, it's like your whole dynamic has changed - for the better. Of course you still feel that curious nervousness, the innocence, the electricity between you. But there's something so solid and tangible about it now, something certain. Something real.
He shapes your fingers along the neck of the guitar, praising you softly every time you play a note that sounds right, encouraging you as you repeat the G chord a few times, then C, then D. You strum along slowly, taking your time, and before you know it you're playing something that actually doesn't sound half bad.
"We definitely need to work on buildin' up those calluses," he murmurs, stroking the tips of your fingers under his thumb, "Well... If you're gonna do this long-term, I mean."
You peer at him curiously, tilting your head to the side. He looks sheepish, like he's said something he hadn't meant to.
"You think I could do this, like... for real? As a hobby?"
His mouth turns up at the corners and he nods, "I think you can do anything you set your mind to, darlin'."
Your heart is suddenly in your throat at his words, emotion bubbling under the surface of your skin. You drop your hand from the guitar and reach up to cup his face, pulling him toward you to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He kisses you back just as soft, just as careful.
"Thank you," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "Thank you for saying that."
He presses his forehead to yours, shakes his head ever so slightly, "Don't gotta thank me for sayin' what's true, angel. You deserve to hear it every single day."
You finish the lesson with tears still welling in your eyes, a lump in your throat. When you lean the guitar against the side of the couch he cradles your face in his hands and gently kisses the tears away, brushes his lips along your eyelids and cheeks, your jaw and your lips, saying everything without saying anything at all.
"Okay," you sigh, taking a deep breath and opening your eyes to smile sweetly at him, "Time for my reward."
He chuckles and rolls his eyes a little, reaching for the guitar and beginning to tune it again. You watch as he twists the keys, strums a little here and there, hums softly for each note to match his voice. Anticipation rises in your chest.
"Now, uh," he clears his throat a bit, avoiding eye contact, "It's been a while since I played this one but it's, uh," he takes a breath, "It's one I wrote when Sarah was born. Used to sing it to her to help her fall asleep."
You melt at the words, smiling wider, "What's it called?"
He finally meets your eyesight, lips pressing together sheepishly, "Sarah."
Oh, duh. You nod in encouragement, leaning back against the armrest of the couch and waiting for him to begin. He takes another deep breath, dropping his gaze to watch his fingers shape the first chord. It's then that you notice his hands - usually deft and steady - are trembling a little bit, so much so that he has to readjust his position on the strings a few times.
He's nervous.
He stares at his hand, takes another deep breath.
You wait.
"Sorry," he mumbles under his breath, "Sorry, just gimme a minute."
"It's okay, take your time." Your voice is barely a whisper, awestruck by the sudden vulnerability you're witnessing. He'd agreed to the reward so quickly, you'd been sure he didn't mind. But now as you sit here waiting, you're not so sure. You watch him take more deep breaths, watch as he closes his eyes and seems to center himself.
"If you don't want to-"
"I want to," he says immediately, shaking his head, "I want to, I've just... I haven't sung in a while."
Your brow furrows, confused, "You sang yesterday in the car, didn't you? And you sang Tangled Up In Blue when we first met, and that other one, the one from the eighties."
His lips turn up at the corners, a welcome smile, "Take On Me."
"Yeah, that one."
He sighs, tightening his grip on the guitar, "It's not that I haven't sung I guess. Wrong wordin'," he bites his lip, "It's moreso that I haven't sung this one. Or any of my originals. Not for a long time."
You frown, "How come?"
"I guess... I just..." he searches for the words, staring at the floor, "No one's really asked me to. And it's not like I'm playin' gigs or tourin' or any of that pipe dream stuff I thought about when I was a kid." He laughs humorlessly, like the concept is ridiculous, "So I guess I just kinda... stopped, after a while."
You feel a sudden sadness that you can't really explain, picturing that bright-eyed little version of Joel, stuck in a household that wouldn't let him grow, wouldn't let him be himself. All those dreams and big ideas, dashed before he was able to get out and make his mark. Life getting busy, too busy, other responsibilities taking up all his time until the thing he loved most became nothing but a memory. A pipe dream.
It makes your heart ache.
"D'you mind if I just..." he meets your gaze again finally, eyes soft and a little sad, "Could I maybe just hum it? Instead? I know that's kind of a cop-out, but-"
"Of course you can," you breathe out, hand coming down to rest atop his knee, "Of course you can hum it."
"I'm sorry, baby, I know you wanted -"
"It's hard being vulnerable, Joel," you interrupt him again, shaking your head and stroking your thumb against his skin, "God knows it's been hard for me, and you've been nothing but patient." You give him a watery smile and he returns it, "Please take your time. I can be patient too, I promise."
You can tell how much he appreciates it. He reaches down and picks up your hand, presses a gentle kiss to the back of it before setting it back down and taking one last deep breath.
"Well, here it is," he says with a little more confidence, a smile playing at his lips.
You've heard him play before, obviously; you've already seen the way his fingers work the strings like it's just second nature, the way his thumb strums out the chords effortlessly. But this time is different. Knowing what he's playing is completely original, born from his own creativity out of love and devotion, a father's affection and protectiveness, it just sounds special. New. He begins to pluck out a soft, slow, soothing melody that immediately puts you at ease, makes you lean back further against the couch and loosen your body. It's tender, quiet - a lullaby.
He hums softly, voice crackling a bit in his throat at first but then settling into a smooth and comforting sound. It's almost like a waltz, the way the chords change back and forth, in and out, slow and steady. Of course you wonder what the real words are, what his quiet hums are substituting, but you find that it doesn't really matter. What matters is the look on his face, eyes distant, as if he's picturing his daughter as she was when she was little. You try to picture it too, thinking of the photograph in his house, the one of him pushing Sarah on the swing. Just a father and his little girl, against the world.
It isn't a very long song. It fades out relatively quickly, and as soon as he strums out the final chord you sit up on the couch and clap ferociously, tears stinging in your eyes all over again.
"I'd usually, uh, play it a couple times for her," he says awkwardly, "'Til she fell asleep."
"It was beautiful," you tell him earnestly, "It was so beautiful, Joel."
He shakes his head with an embarrassed laugh and swivels around to go place his guitar back in its case. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. You know how he feels when you spot the tips of ears, tinged pink, warm from your praise.
--
The rest of the day passes in what feels like a warm, luxurious, passionate blur. You go to dinner that evening and order lobster, revel in the way it practically melts in your mouth with sips of champagne and bites of blueberry cheesecake. Joel tells you a little more about his life, tells you everything you want to know about his daughter and his ex. It's not a difficult or uncomfortable conversation like you'd been worried it might be. Instead, you feel closer learning these things about him, feel even more connected to him than you did before as he tells you about Mish and Sarah, their relationship, the arrangement.
"I think I understand it better now," you tell him thoughtfully, "Now that I've actually..." you peer at him shyly, "You know... done it."
He chuckles, "Sex is a powerful thing, it really is. And when you find someone you're compatible with it can be really easy to keep goin' back to 'em. Settle into it, you know? Even if the other parts of your relationship don't work."
"It's like...friends with benefits, right?"
"Exactly. And it really does work for some people, worked for Mish and I for a long time," he shakes his head and reaches across the table to take your hand, "But that's over now, I need you to know that. It's over. You're the only woman in my life and that's how I want it to be. You believe me right?"
His eyes are soft, warm, loving, sincerity practically glowing in his expression.
"I believe you, Joel. Of course I believe you."
You have sex again when you get back to the room, slow and intimate and tender and perfect. You claw at his back as whimpers and cries tear from your mouth, writhing in pleasure beneath him on the bed as he fills you over and over, murmurs filth in your ear and presses down on your clit with his thumb. It's like you've died and gone to heaven, this feeling of permanent bliss and satisfaction, the sensation of being so full and so connected. It's the closest you've ever felt to real inner peace; who would have thought that sitting on a cock instead of in a church pew would be the thing to bring you closer to godliness?
I pray at the church of Joel Miller, you think to yourself as you recover from your fifth orgasm of the day, laying there with fluttering lashes and heaving belly, mind foggy and eyes bleary. Joel is kissing your thighs somewhere below, whispering praises, humming against your skin as he wipes a warm cloth over your twitching pussy.
"I keep thinking about how many sins I've committed in the last twenty four hours," you mumble to him, sleep quickly making its way into your psyche, "And then I remember that I don't care."
His laugh is the last thing you hear before you drift off.
--
Sunday morning is bittersweet. You spend most of it wrapped in Joel's embrace, tracing the freckles and scars on his skin, drifting in and out of consciousness while he peppers kisses all over your face and neck. You have to leave the hotel by noon, get back on the road again and head back home, but the bed is so warm. He's so warm. Everything is warm.
"You never fucked me in the shower," you whisper to him softly, so quiet you wonder if he can even hear you, "Or on the floor."
"I still can," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep, fingers trailing delicately through your hair, "We have a little time."
You nuzzle into his warmth and close your eyes, sighing contentedly, "No," you breathe, "I just want you to hold me."
So he does.
--
The drive home is quieter, but not in a bad way. You're still tired from your escapades and find yourself dozing every so often, vaguely aware of Joel turning down the volume or switching the song to something more chill when he notices you starting to drift. His hand is ever-present on your thigh, stroking the skin over and over like it's just habit at this point. You know you should be forcing yourself to stay awake, to enjoy these last few hours before life goes back to normal, but he really did a number on you.
It's only when you stop at a gas station - the same one where you first saw the playlist you weren't sure you were meant to - that you finally start to feel more awake.
"So tell me about this Angel playlist," you say with a smirk, waving his phone at him as he gets back in the truck, "Can we listen to it?"
A look of surprise crosses his face, but he doesn't seem upset, "How did you even find out about that?"
"I'm in control of the music, remember? It's your spotify."
He groans, cheeks flushing as he pushes on the gas and pulls out of the station, avoiding eye contact. "You were not supposed to see that."
Intrigue floods your brain, fuels your grin, "So it's for me?"
He takes a moment to respond, thumb stroking the wheel as he eyes the road, lip between his teeth. You can tell he's debating whether or not he should answer you, but his silence says everything. Impatient, you practically bounce in your seat, "Can we listen to it? Pretty please?"
He laughs a little breathlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, "Who is this girl sittin' in the front seat of my truck?" He squeezes your thigh, "You're gettin' bold, darlin'. I like it."
"Enough to let me listen to the playlist?"
He sighs, but you know he's not mad, can see the smile tugging at his lips, "...Maybe. At least enough to listen to one song. Will that tide you over?"
"Yes, it most certainly will," you're already tapping Angel, eyes alight with curiosity, "Which song?"
"Northern Sky by Nick Drake, should be the first one there."
You turn to him with a raised brow, "How do you know that's the first song?"
"'Cause I made the damn playlist."
"And you listen to it a lot?"
He laughs again, eyes rolling fondly as he turns his attention back to the road and grins at your words, "You're somethin' else."
You've still got a shit eating grin on your face as the song starts, the soft strumming of guitar filling the small space. Oh, this is pretty. You playfully nod your head to the chords and he rolls his eyes again, strokes your thigh and keeps his attention focused on the road.
And then the lyrics start.
I never felt magic crazy as this I never saw moons, knew the meaning of the sea I never held emotion in the palm of my hand Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree But now you're here Brighten my northern sky
Your grin fades almost immediately, realization blooming on your face as the reality of what this playlist actually is begins to dawn on you. You'd thought maybe it was songs he wanted to share with you, songs he wanted to teach you how to play. Just random tunes that he compiled together with you in mind.
No, that's not what this is at all. As the lyrics continue, the melody growing more steady, more beautiful, you realize that these are songs that remind him of you. An entire playlist dedicated to the way he feels.
You stare at the road as the song plays out, not speaking. Your eyes are stinging with tears but you can't bring yourself to say anything, to even look at him. You feel him squeeze your thigh again, a comforting and reassuring little gesture. As if to say, l know, I'm here. As the final chords fade out you frantically reach for his phone and press pause, out of respect for his privacy but also because you're completely unprepared to hear another song like that. You catch him peering at you in your periphery, and you will yourself to look at him with watery eyes.
"Satisfied?" he asks softly, giving you that gorgeous crooked smile.
All you can choke out is a "Yeah."
--
Arriving back at the parking garage hurts. Joel pulls his truck in beside your car, still in the same spot you'd left it, and takes the key out of the ignition with a long sigh. You look over at him, emotion burning in your throat.
"I don't wanna go home," you whisper.
"Oh, babygirl," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "C'mere." He holds his arms open and you clamor over the center console to settle into his lap, burying your face in his neck. He holds you tight and rubs your back, hushes you softly when you start to cry. How is this weekend already over? How are things just supposed to go back to normal now?
"I don't want you to go back there either," he breathes, "If I had it my way you'd be comin' home with me." You feel him press a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear, "But you're strong. You're stronger than you think you are and I know you can get through this. Whatever they have to say, whatever they do, you'll get through it. We'll get through it together."
You don't say anything else, just melt into the warmth of his body and let him hold you, comfort you, until your cries and hiccups fade into even breaths. You pull back slowly and peer at his beautiful face, long to say the words you've been holding back all weekend - but you know there's a reason you've been holding back, know this isn't the right time, not yet.
Instead, you kiss him. It's soft and sweet, a tender goodbye. Temporary, fleeting. You know it's not forever, know you'll probably sneak over tomorrow night to see him again under cover of darkness, find yourself in his bed, get wrapped up in him. But it's a goodbye nonetheless. A goodbye to this - the simplicity, the sense of normalcy and lack of time constraints, the domestic bliss and the thrill of the escape. A goodbye to the bliss.
Driving away from him a few minutes later, watching his truck fade into the distance in your rearview mirror - you think it might be one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.
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