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praeluxius · 2 months

Text

Impulse

male reader x hanni & danielle of newjeans

5.8k words - it's quick and it's messy masterlist here

thank you @gangplanksorenji for inspiring

Another fucking day. Another fucking problem.

You have half a mind to throw the phone onto the floor, and it's all thanks to her. She refuses to make this easy for either of you—fighting tooth and nail for everything she can get. You're just happy there’s no kids involved.

The two of you never got that far.

Even getting married is a regret. You punch the toilet stall door in frustration before dropping your phone back into your pocket.

And to make things worse, admin just can't get your schedule right. So you have another hour to burn away and waste before the next set of students, who want to be there just as little as you do, spill through the door to your lecture hall.

You make your way back inside. Maybe you can waste some time grading papers.

"Girls? What are you two still doing here?" you ask as you close the lecture hall door behind you.

Danielle is the first to answer. "Well, we noticed you left your stuff behind, so we wanted to keep an eye on it for you."

"And well, you left in such a hurry, we want to make sure you are okay." Hanni follows up, approaching you with a concerned look on her face.

"Well thank you girls, but that's not necessary. Don't you have classes to get to?" You dismiss them. Even if it is a lie, you're not going to bore them with your home troubles. How do you tell anyone, more so your students, that your wife is busy banging her personal trainer?

"No sir, we're free for a whole hour now. And I don't know about Dani here, but I'm hoping to use this time for some hard studying."

Hanni's leaning on your desk as you're scooping up some papers into your bag. She has one hand placed on the back of the other, planted on the edge of the desk, and she's leaning forward. Add to that how she has conveniently not managed to fasten the top three buttons of her blouse and you have quite the sight. Dani is a couple of steps behind her, slowly making her way forward. You can see that she, too, is in no great rush to fully button her shirt.

"Well, I'm sure you girls know where the library is, now if you'll excuse me—"

"I really hope you don't mind, professor, but…" She shoots a quick glance back at Dani's over her shoulder and winks at her. "My best friend over here has some trouble understanding the material. Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving her a hand?"

"Yeah, sir, I really need it." Dani is pressing herself against Hanni, chest to back, and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Your material is really... hard." Hanni giggles a little at her friend and sways her ass back into her best friend, encouraging a giggle of her own. Both girls seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

These two sweet things are painted in mischief, with their hands around each other, framing themselves as the duo that could keep you happy and fulfilled with round after round of stress-relieving sex.

Stop it. You can't do this.

"Ladies..." You begin to protest.

"We would be ever so grateful to you, sir. Isn't that right, Hanni?"

"So grateful."

"And believe me, we are very willing to learn." Dani slips her hand down Hanni's front, tucking it into the opening of her shirt. It's brazen and shameless. You shouldn't be watching, but you can't seem to pry your eyes away from what's happening. What's more, you can feel your cock swelling up at the sight of it.

"Ladies. I'm a professional and I would never—"

"Then why are you always staring, professor?" Hanni confronts you. "When I sit at the front and I catch you looking at my legs. And then I open them a little, and pull up my skirt for you..."

"You like her legs, professor?" Dani continues the barrage, pulling up the hem of Hanni's skirt. "You like to stare at them?"

"He always stares at them, and he thinks I don't notice." Hanni giggles softly.

"And I bet he goes home and thinks about your legs when he—"

"Girls. Enough." Your face is burning up and you know they see it.

"It's okay professor, I like it. I'm sure we have had some very similar thoughts about each other, actually." Hanni lowers her tone and you shift in place, tugging at your collar. When did it get this hot in here? She keeps talking, telling you: "When I go home and I lie on my bed, I lift up my skirt and spread my legs. I just wish you were over me. Pinning me down and—"

"Stop."

Dani can't hold back her gentle laughter. "What's wrong sir? You seem so stressed recently. I think this is—we are—exactly what you need." There's a soft whine in her voice, one that's cooing at you—enticing you.

Hanni starts to move and Dani slips away from her, freeing her from her grasp. Hanni puts one knee up on the desk between you, and then the other, and perches herself on it. It's enthralling for a multitude of reasons, but if anything, it's the sweet and eager smile on her face that's most alluring. Her soft voice gets your heart beating hard, "I don't want my favourite teacher to be stressed. You can do anything you like to me. Anything you want." You glance down at her and it might be those big brown eyes, or how she tucks a lock of her long hair behind her ear waiting for your answer, but you start to concede to the reality. Then your eyes fall. Further and further to that gap between her half-open blouse. She says please and her words take on a life of their own, fluttering right to your stiffening cock.

You want this. Maybe even need this.

"Miss Pham..." You trail off in failed protest. Dani rounds the table until she is stood by your side, she places a hand on your shoulder, which her face barely reaches. Her other hand brushes over your waist then to your belt and she wraps a finger around it, gently tugging you closer and saying, "so sir, how can we help relieve your stress?"

Fuck. Fuck it.

You reach out for Hanni, placing your hand on her cheek and she melts into your touch. You pull her to you and it's almost magnetic as you feel her lips pressing into yours and her tits pressing into your chest.

Kiss her. Kiss her slowly, and while it might look like she's innocent, deep down her lips are beginning to soak with desire, and you're kissing that into her. Her hands start to grab at your blazer, pulling herself closer to you and she lets out a moan into your mouth, and you return by brushing your tongue onto hers.

You run hands down her sides. She's so feminine and her body is trim and fit, small but plump in the right places. Further you touch until you’re going over her hips and to her ass. You tease her with a light rub before you grip firm at her soft, bare skin. She breaks the kiss as you do that, her breathy whine lets you know you're doing something right.

"Professor..." Hanni whispers to you, with lust on her tongue and in her eyes.

"Yes professor," Dani encourages. "She likes that. I like that."

Dani shifts behind you, pressing her lithe frame against you and wrapping her arms around your torso. She brings her hands down to your belt, clumsily trying to unbuckle it. Hanni slips her hands over your shoulders and tugs at your blazer. You shrug it off and then you slip off your tie, holding it in your hand.

Hanni whispers, "I have been naughty professor, staring at your cock during class." She brings her hand behind her ass, burying her fingers into the flesh. "Would you like to spank me?"

You bring your tie up to Hanni's neck, wrapping it around once, and then holding both ends in one hand. You twist the fabric around your fist, tightening the grip until you have full control of her. You pull your hand out the side, and Hanni fumbles and slides on the desk, knocking papers onto the floor. You have her where you want her—on all fours, side on, with her ass in the air.

You flip up her skirt, revealing her plump ass. The fabric of her panties pulled taut between her full cheeks. The skin begs to be marked.

Dani begs you to mark it. "Spank her sir," Dani whispers. "She's so bad. She needs a good spanking."

"Yes. I deserve it. Spank me, sir." Hanni hangs her head, submitting herself.

You pull tight on the tie, gently choking her, and then raise your other hand over her ass. You bring it down hard with a loud smack and Hanni hisses in pain. You only care to watch how the supple flesh gives way to your strike.

"Sir, I... I just—" Hanni loses her voice as you bring your hand down hard onto her again, giving her what Dani so eagerly begs for you to do. You lift your hand and deliver three hard, spanking strikes. Each time your hand comes crashing down on her ass, you pull on the tie and her body reels forward, and her hands scramble for purchase.

"Sir. I'm sorry. I was being naughty. Please, hurt me." With each hit, she apologises. But it's Dani's whimpered gasps that leave a warm stirring in your cock. This is getting her off as much as you. With all that bottled frustration inside you, the way Hanni writhes, and the eagerness from Dani, you really feel some kind of relief here. You give Hanni one more heavy spank, forcing an erotic whine of satisfaction from her that sends a twinge into your groin.

For all her fumbling, Dani finally springs your cock free from your underwear. She stays behind you, reaching her hands around to grab it. Her nimble fingers wrap around your stiff cock. As Hanni struggles to recover, you loosen the tie and Dani tries pumping up and down your shaft, stuttering in her awkward grip, and though somewhat sloppy, her youthful eagerness works its charm. And when Dani's delicate and feminine laughter tickles your ear with how much she's enjoying your cock, well, how can you complain?

You gently back away from the desk, pulling slightly at the tie like a leash and encouraging Hanni to follow you. You tug her upwards until she is back on her feet and then you lean into her ear, whispering, "on your knees."

She breaks out a soft whine, like a scolded dog being denied a toy. She shoots you back that puppy-dog expression, "but sir..." and you pull gently again on the tie. She drops to her knees, between you and the desk. "Well done. Good girls deserve rewards." You praise Hanni's obedience, but that grin on her lips means there is something deceitful buried in that submission.

Dani realises what's about to happen, stops rubbing your cock and steps to your side. She keeps one hand on it, guiding it as you step forward. Hanni's mouth falls open and her tongue wets her lips in anticipation.

Dani plays with your length against Hanni's lips. She rubs the tip of it up and down along the wet surface of her tongue. Hanni's nostrils flare and a warm breath flies over your wet tip as she gasps. She opens wide, waiting.

Dani hesitates, asking, "sir, I can't stop playing with it, it's so nice. May I lick it?"

"Let her lick it, sir," Hanni begs, keeping her mouth open, her pink tongue poking out. She adds: "Please."

"Let me taste your cock." Dani pleads and you nod to her, eyes sparkle, and her soft-painted lips part into a sweet smile.

Your tip rests tantalisingly against Hanni's lower lip. Her tongue occasionally brushes against it. Dani has dropped to her knees, leading with her tongue, and lapping a warm wet heat against your base and over your balls. Your tip pulses against the entrance of Hanni's mouth and you can feel the warm breath flowing over you again and again. Her breathing gets heavier, watching Dani work at your balls.

Hanni brings her lips together into a kiss, right on the tip. Another breathy kiss on the head, and then she drags her tongue along her lips, sticking it out and gliding her wet tongue along the underside of your stiff cock. You can't wait any longer. You push slightly and Dani realises, ducking out of the way so you can drive between Hanni's plump lips.

Both your hands find back of Hanni's head, your fingers getting knotted in her locks and your palms resting on her, and you slowly, gently, push her down on you.

You find a rhythm with your hips, slowly pumping into her lips. She relaxes into you, and she sucks and she laps her tongue against you. Dani watches in amazement. "How does she feel, professor?"

You grunt with satisfaction, affirming your pleasure with a moan and then Dani breaks back out into laughter, "I think she likes it too. Don't you Hanni?" Hanni nods as your slide in and out of her, but she never breaks the seal on your cock.

Dani continues teasing her friend, saying, "I think she likes sucking on it, I've always wanted to suck on professor's cock. I'm so jealous." Dani pulls open the buttons of her shirt. There's no bra underneath, and her perky little breasts are perfect. She slips her hand into her shirt to cup one of her little mounds. She brings two fingers into her mouth too, imitating Hanni. She wets two fingers with her lips and she then runs them over her plump nipple. Hanni hums around your cock, picking up on the encouragement.

"Dani." You grunt. For all your hesitation earlier, you're fully invested now and ready to bark your commands to your two playthings. "Get on my desk, spread for me." You add, "now." It's Hanni who flutters her eyes and pants a breathy moan around you, sounding her approval to your command. Dani, under your authority, obeys without question. She stands, climbs onto your table and perches her ass right in the centre and brings the heels of her feet up to the edge of the desk, either side of Hanni.

Dani pulls open her shirt, letting it fall off her shoulders. Revealing maybe the tightest body you've ever seen. Her button-up shirts usually did a good job of covering how slender her body was, but there had been times before—times when she probably did it on purpose—when she had worn a tight shirt that showed you a little more. That's how you always knew she had a slutty little waist. But seeing it bare, now? In all its toned glory? It's enough to drive you insane. Then your eyes hit her cute, dainty tits. Her nipples, as perky as her personality.

"Do you like my tits, professor?" Dani asks. You don't answer, just shifting your eyesight between the lust her body calls for and your cock sliding into Hanni's throat. Dani protests your distraction and she cups her tiny tits and pinches her pointed nipples. "Hey. I'm showing you, sir, look."

Again, no words for her. Just keep indulging. Keep savouring it. Slide in and out. Fuck Hanni's mouth until her throat can't take any more.

Dani pouts and she leans back. She spreads her legs open, hiking her skirt up to show you those black panties, and then her fingers rub across the fabric. She demands your attention. She has it, of course, but the silence is a game. A power play you can't help. But she is getting frustrated, pushing the fabric of her underwear to one side and slipping her fingers against herself.

Her pussy is pretty and pink. Small, tight and nestled between her spread thighs. She pulls open her wet lips, and her chest heaves and she asks, "what about my pussy, professor? My tight little cunt?" Dani speaks to you in that bratty, spoiled tone, desperate for your attention.

Hanni slips her lips off you with a pop. She's desperately chasing her breath, gasping for air. She wraps her hand around your slick, shiny cock. The glistening is her own work. You catch her looking up at you, her mascara is a little runny—a wet splash of black around her eyes—and her hair sticks to her damp skin. Her eyes pierce right into your soul, and you can tell how pleased she is that you want her like this. She gently strokes your length. "He wants you Dani, I can see it in his eyes."

Dani brings up her other hand, sinking a finger inside herself. "I want his cock. I want your long hard cock professor. Inside me. Please. Please, use my little cunt."

You glance down at Hanni. Do you make her feel less special now? You have a hard time pulling yourself from her; you'd love to cum all over her face but Dani demands your attention. The thought that this tight little pussy might finally satiate your frustrations and longing gets the better of you. You bring a hand under Hanni’s chin and guide her to her feet, letting your tie hang loose around her neck.

"I want you to watch. If you're good for me," you plant a soft kiss on Hanni's cheek, "then, after, I'll let you ride my cock."

"You promise?" Hanni gives you a wide-eyed and hopeful look.

You smile at her without a word, stepping past her and towards the spread and waiting Danielle. You place your hands on the inside of her thighs and you have to break out a smile when you feel her flesh burning under your touch. You pull her to the edge of the table until her ass is on the edge, and her body is ready for the taking.

You can't resist the feeling as you rub the swollen end of your cock between her folds. She whimpers, pushing her head back with each pass. "Professor." She whimpers. "Teach me. Teach me how to be a good little toy. I know my grades are bad but I'm gonna do better if you fill me with that big, hard cock of yours."

She's tighter than you ever could have imagined. Just the head and she's wincing. You groan back a similar whimper when the hot, clenching little cunt embraces the tip of your cock.

"Sir, I think you're too big for her." Hanni runs a hand through your hair.

"No!" Danielle refutes, instantly. "I can take it. I want it." She locks her stare with you, her defiance against her friend behind those watery eyes. Dani draws her bottom lip into her mouth as you draw deeper into her.

"How's it feel Dani?" Hanni asks, leaning over the desk by her side, before planting a few kisses to her exposed shoulders.

"Stretch—" Dani groans, struggling.

"Stretched by professor's big, hard dick." Hanni finishes the thought for her.

"Yeah," Dani manages as you push deeper.

Hanni is right there and is just too much to resist, bent over the desk with her skirt still pushed to her hips. Her red, swollen ass is on display. You can't even try to stop yourself. The glowing flesh taunting you.

You grab and you squeeze at her ass, digging your fingers into the wounded flesh. As Hanni is encouraging Dani, whispering soft words into her ear, you take a moment to spank her one more time. One heavy-handed slap against her ass and Hanni spits a grunt into Dani's ear.

There's not even a flinch as Dani's focus is on one thing only—you slowly fucking her tight cunt. You're driving your hips into her slowly, going deeper each time. Dani can't hold it in anymore, her soft mewling moans erupt into deeper, lustier vocalisations. Every gyration of her hips has a new feeling flowing into your cock. Hanni's hand snakes between the pair of you, finding her little clit and poking at it.

Dani collapses back against the desk and Hanni over her, tasting her body with soft kisses. It's back to her you shift your focus, slip her underwear off and let it fall to her ankles. You run your hand again over her stained flesh, this time driving towards her pussy as you do. That welcoming gap at the top of her thighs invites your fingers in. She is soaked. So beautifully aroused for you, and eager for the experience.

"Tell me how wet you are."

"Sir, I'm so wet," Hanni replies, punctuated by another giggle. "So wet for you, sir." She twists her head up and you run a finger over her pink slit, dipping the fingertip in and retrieving more wetness. She pushes back against your finger, desperate for you. So you curl two fingers into her and push deep into her heat.

"Yes. Fuck, yes." Hanni whimpers. A soft whine against Dani's skin.

With two girls beneath you now, them both whimpering in desperation, you pick up the pace and fuck harder into Dani. She braces her hands behind her against the table, hanging on. With the impact of your body crashing into her, her body shakes on the desk. Your thrusts cause Hanni's body to react too, you feel her pussy pulsing around your fingers and her soft whimpers slip into short, gasping breaths.

Your pelvis slaps into Dani's thighs over and over, and her legs tremble against you. Her elbows buckle. She fights a long and hard battle, but she's failing. "Sir. I'm gonna—" She can't even finish what she wants to say before her toes curl, her chest heaves, and she begins to tremble.

Hanni tells you the obvious between her hitched breaths, "she's cumming sir. Fuck, sir. You made Dani cum."

Dani lets go, she whimpers and moans with no shame and her body rides the wave of bliss. You slow and turn your attention to Hanni, breaking out your fingers. She quickly slips her hand behind and takes your fingers in hers, sliding them into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around them. You smile at her deviously. She smiles that innocent face back at you.

After a pause, Dani still squirming and spent beneath you, Hanni breaks from sucking on your fingers. "Can I ride your cock now, Sir?" She's so sweetly, sincerely, asking you for your permission.

Your tie still hangs loose over Hanni's neck, you reach for it and pull it taut once again. You step back, drawing your length out of Danielle and stepping back toward your chair. You're pulling Hanni along, giving her an answer unspoken. Hanni doesn't need any more persuasion than that. You tug slightly and she scrambles to her feet. As you're sitting, you give the tie another quick jerk, a playful little gesture and she tumbles to her knees once again.

"Sir..." she whispers, her eyes dark with a growing lust and burning hot with the rising urges. Hanni crawls towards you, stopping when she finds your thighs. Without hesitation, her fingers find your length. "I spent so many lectures watching you sitting here, just wishing I could play with your cock." She runs her hand up and down your length. You groan softly in response, encouraging her. "I would sit and stare. Did you ever notice?"

You smirk and think back. The thing is that you could never really tell. She was always staring as you taught, but it was never obvious that she was actually listening. Hanni never took notes; maybe the innocence in you just assumed she had a great memory. But the truth is so much more salacious than that. To think—to know—that all along this is what she had on her dirty little mind? Well, it's thrilling.

"Maybe," you play coy.

"These weeks have been excruciating. How could you make my pussy throb, and just ask me to sit and take notes? My hand was trembling and shaking, holding my pen, as I tried to come up with answers to your questions. The entire time I just kept hoping that you would drag me up here and have your way with me. You should have..." All the while she's been talking and unbuttoning her top fully then shrugging it off.

Hanni presses her chest forward against your shaft as she's perched over you, teasing you with the friction of her bra. "Hanni, all those short skirts you wore. Did you know that sometimes when I sat here I could see underneath them?" You can play this game too.

"Oh professor..." she giggles softly. "Do you know how wrong it is to look at your students like that?" For all this teasing on you checking her out, she still persists in undressing, unclasping her bra behind her and letting it fall to reveal her soft mounds. "Shame on you, professor." Hanni feigns a look of disgust that slowly melts into a beaming smile.

She strokes your length again, this time rubbing the tip of your cock, still stained in Dani's cum, against her nipples. "Do you remember last week, sir? When I had to get up and leave. I went to the bathroom and..." Hanni trails off, a little embarrassed. Your focus slips away and onto her delicate body, her perfect perky tits, and her gentle swaying movements as she pushes against you.

"You couldn't hold it in anymore. Could you Hanni?" She purses her lips and shakes her head slowly. "Tell me what you did."

"I ran into the bathroom, and slammed the stall door behind me." She guides your cock down between the soft pillows of her breasts. "And I leaned against the wall and slipped my hand inside my skirt and panties. And the throbbing was unbearable..." Hanni closes her eyes, moaning to herself as she tries to relive the moment in her mind. "I thought about you. Thought about doing this and..." she squeezes her breasts together, "and I came right there."

Dani slips off the table and comes towards you, perching on the arm of the chair. "She's not the only one, sir. Just last night I thought about you as I fucked my pillow." While Dani feeds you her fantasies, Hanni is still playing with your cock between her tits. It doesn't look like she ever wants to stop.

"Did you?" The slight hitch in your voice makes Dani's smile sparkle.

"Yes sir, and we're not the only girls who—"

Hanni shushes Dani with a quick scorn, and whatever confession she was about to make, Hanni stops her, "that's private Dani, don't go spoiling it for her."

Danielle laughs softly to herself. "Right, girls like secrets. Sorry, Sir, we can't say any more, but we will make it up to you, won't we Hanni?"

Hanni nods eagerly as she climbs up onto her feet. Danielle reaches over and pushes Hanni's skirt from her hips, leaving her finally, fully bare in front of you. You take a moment to admire while you can. You could bathe in the memory of Hanni, naked and brimming with desire.

It is the beauty of Hanni's body, yes, but even more, it's her gaze when she catches you admiring the sight. Such raw, unfiltered joy shines through her eyes. That is what gets you. The sweet, simple, pleasure she is enjoying is on display.

She steps over you and climbs onto your lap. She places both hands on your chest and leans into you. For a second you forget how to breathe; her face mere inches away from yours and those big, soulful eyes so dangerously deep. She kisses you softly, tender and careful. You're completely engulfed. Nothing else matters. Not the ungodly amount of work you have to do later tonight. Not tomorrow's damn tedious seminar session. Your focus now is Hanni and what she's about to do.

"Professor," she hums so sweetly in your ear, "I've been thinking about you all week. How much I want to ride your cock. Do you know how much I want it?" You slide your hands around her small, soft waist, grasping at the smooth surface of her back.

She holds your cock in one hand as she rises up on her knees, nestling herself over you. She looks you in the eye as she lowers onto you. You look back. You want to know what her reaction will be when you enter her. That is worth the wait.

There's that soft gasp. Tender. Breathless. Almost speechless.

"How does that feel?" Dani asks you, leaning into your ear, and kissing at the skin.

You go to speak. Your voice croaks and falters as Hanni begins to roll her hips into you. Soft, almost imperceptibly light bounces at first. You correct your voice, "fuck, perfect."

"Does my pussy feel good, professor?" Hanni's fucking you slowly, and you respond to her question by gripping tightly around her waist and pushing up hard into her. She holds your gaze as she begins to up her tempo. Flesh on flesh, clapping as you crash into each other. Hanni takes your hands in her own, guiding them to her breasts, placing her fingers on yours and gently squeezing her soft tits.

Dani is biting at your ear from behind, her hands running down over your body as she whispers into your ear, "do you like her tits professor?" Dani pulls your shirt open and her delicate fingers roll over your nipples. "They look so nice to touch. To grab. How do they feel?"

Warmth spills over you. You’re sitting there, letting Hanni—little innocent thing—ride you like an animal. Your cock feels snug inside her, tightly clenching around you. Dani is kissing at your neck and shoulders and Hanni is playing her little games.

"This is even better than I imagined, professor, but my legs..." She sucks in air through her teeth, struggling to continue as you penetrate her. "My legs need a rest. Will you put me on the desk?" Her soft voice, still so innocent despite what she's doing, somehow only thickens the lust.

You nod. You have no more words. Wrapping your hands around Hanni, you carry her, on your cock to the desk. Hanni slips back onto the desk and lets her head fall backwards. Eyes glued closed in total bliss. She mutters through a heaving breath, "you're fucking me. Fuck." Like she can't believe it's real.

You hook her legs, bringing them over your shoulders, resting the heels on you as you use the leverage to pump against her.

"Professor," Hanni's hands are tightly gripped onto your forearms, "are you going to cum inside me?" She opens her eyes just enough to let you know she's watching your response, a smile turning up the sides of her lips.

"Yeah." Dani can't help adding from your side, again touching your body. "Cum inside her professor. I think she needs it bad. Don't you?" Dani tilts her head at Hanni, questioning her.

"Yes. Give it to me professor." Her reply, direct, assured and daring, leaves no room for question.

Hanni's back arches and she groans again, this time with more hunger in her voice. "Please, professor. I want to feel you."

Your orgasm begins to stir inside you. Still, you restrain yourself, continuing to thrust into Hanni as she closes her eyes, pouting her lips and writhing under your control. It's the most magnificent thing to watch, how this once delicate and unassuming young woman is now transformed by lust.

"Look at me Hanni," you command her. Hanni's eyes slip open and meet yours. She whines softly as you drive into her. "I'm going to fucking cum inside you." You can hardly believe the words falling from your lips as you give Hanni the tainted energy of your thoughts.

Dani clings to your shoulder, encouraging you. "Don't stop professor. Please cum inside her."

It's at that point you have to wonder how long these two have been conspiring about this. All to culminate in this moment. This moment that fast approaches, about to crash into you in your inevitable—but long-awaited—release. Your breathing hikes, reaching a pinnacle, and the grip on Hanni's waist tightens. You bury yourself to the hilt as you slow to your final movements.

Hanni runs her hand through the strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. Gripping herself as she feels it inside her. A pleasured smile on her radiating face. You're emptying into her. Everything you have. Your entire fucking self. You're pumping inside her and filling her up. You keep your eyes glued to hers.

"Oh, fuck yes, professor. He's cumming Dani." Hanni throws her head back against the table, shaking and trembling and slowly melting into euphoria. You drop her legs, pressing your hands on either side of her, just trying not to lose balance while waves of pleasure crash around your body.

Dani strokes at your back, caressing your shoulders with her delicate little fingers, giggling with appreciation. "If only you knew how long she has been waiting for you to do that." She gently pulls on your shoulders, drawing you out of Hanni and back towards your chair. Your whole body collapses into the leather.

Dani kneels by your feet, looking up at you, a smile that dances on her lips and delight in her glittering eyes. "Can I clean you off, professor?"

You have nothing left to give. A nod is the only thing you have strength for.

Dani's tongue laps against your cock—hot, wet, and hungry.

Hanni is still coming down from a high. Naked, used and breathless, she rises to her elbows and smiles mischievously.

You look down at Dani. Licking. Cleaning your spent cock. She's careful and caring with her touch and tongue. But the smirk tells it all—she wants to taste as much of you as you can offer. And she wants you hard again, ready to give to her as you did to Hanni.

In that silent understanding, there is another, too. You look back to Hanni, and you know in your gut that this isn't a one-off. Study hard—those were her words. Little studying happened, but there's more than one way to improve a grade. And if these girls want to be in your class next semester, and if you want them, then maybe a little extra credit wouldn't hurt.

Yeah, this is definitely not the end. Not for today, not for a long time.

A/N: Well I managed to cobble this together in just two days, and it's a bit of a throwback to my old style which feels right given it's two years since I first started. This one was just plain porn, but the next fic, folie a deux part 4, will have a lot more character work that I'm excited to share. Thanks for reading <3

#hanni smut #danielle smut #newjeans smut #male reader smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #m reader #school au

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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months

Note

We always see Charles being more soft sooo Hb

Reader and seb are back home and Charles is racing and they send him some spicy pics and videos and he’s all pent up and frustrated and goes all dom

“Do you seriously think it’s funny sending me videos like this while I’m at work”

A/N: I should be asleep, but I'm jamming to Kpop and writing smut

You giggle as you watch Charles cross the finish line, fighting tooth and nail to get ahead of Max and winning the race. Seb was lying next to you smiling as his hand was inside your shirt and absently playing with your tits.

"Sebby, we should send him something," You whisper, which pulls Seb out of his trance and he smirks at you, nodding. "I think that's brilliant," Smiling you roll out of bed and run to your shared closet and searching for something that belonged to Charles, but also for lingerie that would match.

You come back out, wearing one of his Ferrari shirts and his favorite pair of black lacy underwear he loved peeling you out of with his teeth as he devoured you. Coming back to bed, Seb grabs his phone, knowing Charles would keep his close waiting for your messages of love and support.

"Lay down love," Sebastian instructs and you do, Seb positioning you so you could tell you weren't wearing a bra and hand your knees raised, it honestly looked innocent. Snapping the first pics you slowly would move your legs apart with each picture out you were spread out. "Should we take a video?" You ask, and Sebastian chuckles nodding his head in agreement.

"Yes," Hitting record you giggle and sit up as Sebastian messily films you taking off your top. "Fuck, Charlie, look at what you're missing right now." Seb's fingers come into frame and moves down your stomach and you arch up into his touch, shivering at his cold fingers.

"Seb, need you." You whine, it's pathetic how fast your partners can get you whimpering and begging for them. "Yeah, since Charles isn't here, should I be the one to eat you out?" He asks and you nod, which has him passing you the phone.

You turn it just in time to film the blonde curls going down on you, deciding to fuck with Charles some more you turn the camera to catch your face as you moan loudly and lewdly. Sebastian was good at eating you out, but Charles was something different and he prided himself on being the best at it.

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

Charles swears he's ready to break his phone as he hears your loud moans, your shaking hand as you turn the camera back round to Sebastian lifting his face up all wet and lips red, licking them. "He should've been here not doing a silly race," Sebastian teased and Charles groans squeezing his hard cock, thinking about how much he going to fuck that mouth of his, and your pussy and making sure your both feeling him for days after.

He watches as he slowly pumps himself through his champagne and sweat soaked race suit. Watching as you gasp and shiver, Seb having going back down on you and from the looks of it was sucking on your clit while his tongue moves fast over your folds. "Fuck! Oh god," You shake dropping the phone and Charles groans as he tightens his hand and comes undone with you, not even caring about the mess he just made.

Closing out the video he clicks your name and waits for it, but obviously neither of you pick up, Sebastian was clearly giving you aftercare right now.

Voicemail. "When I get home you two, you aren't going to walk straight for a fucking week, touching each other when I'm not there? Both of you are such fucking needy sluts, better be ready when I get home babies, see you in three hours." Hanging up the phone Charles chuckles at their boldness. You'd both regret it.

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kiyoomi-levin · 5 months

Text

somethin' new (miya twinsxF!reader) <NSFW>

a/n i'm working on like 3 other fics rn but i found this in my drafts and thought it was good enough to publish (with a LOT of polishing ofc). I'm new to smut writing so I'm very insecure abt this but i hope u enjoy

summary::: your older brother atsumu likes watching porn. and the twins like trying shit out on you. aka porn w plot osamu focus bc he's best boy word count::: 2.9k warnings/triggers!!!::: non-con, step-cest, stockholm syndrome-ish, the miya twins are really fucking mean and possessive, double penetration (my fave! <33)

People think the Miyas are scariest when they lose, when they're arguing with each other, or when they're distracted during a serve.

But you know them better–actually, you know them best.

They're scariest when they're fucking you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I was watchin' porn yesterday and I wanna try somethin' new," Atsumu announces as he walks through into the living room, tossing his volleyball bag onto the couch.

Osamu rolls his eyes, continuing to flip through his textbook at the kitchen table.

"Why the hell would you watch porn when you got ‘er right here?" Osamu snaps back, hardly glancing up. Atsumu’s eyes shift to you as you squirm on Osamu’s lap uncomfortably.

Osamu continues casually stroking your pussy with one hand as the other holds you down.

You’re shaking– he’s been at this for twenty minutes now, reading his lecture notes as he continuously edges you. You haven’t given in yet, though.

You know he’s just waiting for you to beg him for it.

It's still hard to believe that you’re dripping on his lap and he won’t stop memorizing vocabulary for his upcoming exam.

As a final year university student, Osamu’s been under a lot of pressure. What better way to alleviate it than to play with his favorite toy?

Atsumu takes in the scene in front of him, smirking when he makes eye contact with you. You quickly turn away.

Although the twins share you, it still feels wrong when one of them catches you in the act with the other.

“Ya sure you don’t even wanna hear? I know you’ll like it, ya freak,” Atsumu says, now glancing at his brother.

You shiver at Atsumu’s words and Osamu frowns as he moves his hand away from your lap.

"Fine. Out with it, asshole," he murmurs, finally distracted from his studies. He shoves his papers aside, full attention on you now. From the corner of your eye, you see Atsumu light up.

It’s almost comical to see the twins this way.

Always fighting, always competing— but when it comes to you they're a single organism.

"I was watchin' my favorite porn star-- ah, don't be jealous, y/n! I only watch her for inspiration because she's freaky-- and I saw her take two in one hole."

Your eyes widen.

You wouldn't be able to take it.

"No, please," you whisper, holding your breath. Osamu’s body flexes under you reflexively.

When have you become such a pussy?

You were always the outspoken, little step-sister who fought her brothers tooth and nail for the last slice of cake.

Nobody could have excepted them to fuck the brat out of you within a month of moving in together.

Osamu surprisingly agrees with you.

"Nah. I'm not into rubbin' dicks with you," he says, both hands on your chest now. The thought of being that close to a naked Atsumu makes him grimace.

Atsumu rolls his eyes.

"I'm not into that shit either, but I wanna see her take it." You wince as Osamu pinches your nipples, hard. He's gone completely silent, which isn't a good sign.

“It’ll be a little painful, but I know she’ll be able to pull through,” Atsumu continues, carefully watching Osamu’s expression.

The Miya fans would be shocked to discover that Osamu's a sadist, more so than Atsumu.

While Atsumu wipes away your tears, Osamu enjoys watching them stream down your face.

When Osamu doesn't respond, Atsumu sighs and rubs his head, frustrated. He’d been looking forward to this since last evening, when he had to jerk off to the sounds of you and Osamu going at it.

"Fine then. I'll try it myself with a toy. I bought a new dildo for her, ya know. And it's bigger than you."

No further words are needed—Osamu pulls his hands out of your shirt, and you feel him physically fuming behind you.

He's possessive, stupidly so, and hates when Atsumu buys you disgusting silicon toys and shit.

He really doesn't understand his twin sometimes.

Why buy toys, why watch porn, when you, his adorable, precious little bitch, exists?

Osamu would rather lose a game at nationals before you cum off a piece of vibrating plastic.

And he won't admit it, but deep down he's scared. Scared that it'll satisfy you better than he can.

The less competition, the better. He's already competing with Atsumu on a daily basis.

Atsumu, who can make you squirt faster than he can. Atsumu, who makes you laugh. Atsumu, who, Osamu knows, you favor.

Maybe it's because the little shit handles you just a little better in bed.

Osamu picks you up from classes, purchases expensive jewelry and takes you out to get sweets every week, you still shy away from his touches.

So Osamu has given up-- if you're gonna hate him anyways, he'll do whatever he wants.

And that’s why you’re always left a humiliatingly wet mess whenever he uses you.

"Fine. Ya better take a shower first, you fuckin' freak," Osamu says, pushing you off his lap.

Atsumu smirks, cracking his fingers and wrists.

"You be preppin' her, 'Samu."

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

It feels good, but you don't want to admit it.

You’re lying on your shared king-sized bed, trying to hold back tears and moans as Osamu eats you out, pumping three of his long fingers into you quickly.

Between the two of them, Atsumu can get you to cum faster. But Osamu gets you to cum harder. His every move is calculated–from every lick to every moment of rest he gives you.

Osamu's on a mission to get you to beg.

"Samu, please," you breathe, gripping the bed sheets. You feel him smiling, and you grip at the bedsheets. All the teasing he’d been doing before Atsumu got home is quickly catching up to you.

“What was that?” He asks, his dark eyes taking in the conflicting emotions washing over your face. When you don’t respond, he leans back and slaps your pussy, hard. Your eyes widen in pain, and you can’t help the squeak that you release, to his satisfaction.

You’re wet, and he knows it’s not a fluke. You want him. He hasn’t trained you over this past year for nothing.

“‘You aren’t bein’ too mean, are ya?” Atsumu asks, stepping out of the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel. He’s shamelessly naked, hard from hearing your cries from the shower.

Atsumu surveys your body, admiring the marks his twin has placed on you.

A small part of him is thankful his brother is willing to play the role of mean cop. Atsumu gets to reap the rewards of consoling you—although he too enjoys seeing you covered in bruises and left in tears.

He’d never hurt you himself though. He likes cuddling with you and loves the way you laugh at his lame jokes too much.

Osamu snaps him back to reality, standing up as he wipes his shiny lips with the back of his hand.

“She’s ready.”

Atsumu grins. His brother is strangely meek today---probably from you refusing to go to his practice game the other day. You had enjoyed a nice picnic date with Atsumu instead (although that ended with you shaking and moaning in Samu’s arms that night).

“I guess I’m first?”

“Ladies first.”

“You’re a bitch, ya know that?” Atsumu spits, rubbing his dick with his left hand and soaking his right in your wetness. Osamu laughs, pulling off his shirt in a smooth motion.

You, on the other hand, can’t stop shaking. The thought of having two of them in a single hole is almost too much to wrap your head around. With Osamu’s length and Atsumu’s girth, you’re sure you won’t be able to take it.

What if you tear? Surely they’d stop if you beg hard enough.

For now, you can’t do anything but accept this.

From what you’ve observed, when the twins are playful in bed, you shouldn’t resist.

Lost in your thoughts, you gasp as Atsumu yanks you towards him—he’s sitting at the head of the bed, leaning against the wall. You gulp as you find yourself hovering above his dick, facing Osamu, who’s busy tossing Atsumu's towel onto the ground.

“Aw, baby. Calm down, won’t ya? You know it hurts more when you’re nervous.”

Atsumu brings your face towards him, grip so tight you couldn’t turn away if you wanted to.

His rough hands, thick from years of volleyball training, gently smoothes out your hair, and he begins to press kisses on your jawline. The motion is so welcoming that you momentarily forget he’s the one to propose this in the first place.

Osamu sighs, frustrated.

“Get on with it, won’t ya?”

Atsumu frowns at him, pulling away from you.

“And that, ‘Samu, is exactly why she likes me better than ya,” he says, slamming you onto him in a single motion.

It hurts!

You groan, fingers twitching. It hurts already, he’s especially hard today. What’re you going to do when it gets to the meaner twin?

Atsumu pets your clit, grinning as he feels you begin to melt into his chest. He knows exactly how you like it. That spongy spot, right… there. Your groan turns into a moan as he shifts his hips, aiming to reach deep inside of you.

Osamu doesn’t break eye contact with you as he slowly gets onto the bed. He’s in no hurry, unfortunately.

If he wasn't such an asshole, you'd find him hot.

You really do love his gorgeous eyes and gray hair.

"Stop bein' a dick and get on with it," Atsumu says. He scowls at his brother, who continues to simply stare at you.

Both of them know Osamu doesn't want to actually hurt you. He'd never break you.

You're too precious.

"W-what?" Your shaky voice intrudes into his thoughts.

You've gone red and stopped clawing at Atsumu's unrelenting hand.

Did he say that out loud? He must have, because Atsumu is laughing now.

Fuck.

This isn't the time to be embarrassed, though.

Osamu reaches forward, lining his dick next to his brother's.

To be honest, he was never opposed to the idea.

Yeah, Atsumu's a disgusting pig, but he's his twin.

There's an unbreakable bond between them and knowing they share so much DNA sometimes makes Osamu feel as though they're just one person in two bodies. He’s honestly willing to try anything that Atsumu proposes (except get him off, of course, he’ll leave that to you).

Taking a deep breath, he begins to push, using his precum as lube.

Fuckkkkkk.

Osamu's pretty sure everyone had the same thought at that exact moment.

It's so tight. It's so warm. It’s hurting you, for sure. But it feels too good to stop.

For you, it’s suffocating, being stuck between two muscular twins. And, once again showcasing their unspoken connection, they begin to carefully move in and out of you at the same pace.

It hurts now, and tears are burning behind your eyes, but there’s that little voice in your head telling you to just relax and enjoy it—it’ll feel good.

Why? Why does it have to feel so good when this is all wrong?

Fundamentally, twins shouldn't be sharing the same girl, at the same time.

That same girl should especially not be their little sister whom they've been older brothers to for a decade.

But what does it matter now?

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

Atsumu's in heaven. This is better than he imagined, actually. He’s decided that he’ll take the easy route, playing with your soft breasts and sucking hickies into your neck. His dick has gone still as he simply enjoys the fast pace Osamu fucks you at.

While there’s a slight burn against his cock every time Osamu moves, the pain only intensifies the pleasure.

Osamu’s eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on watching his dick pump into you. He wants to curse out Atsumu for being so lazy, but at the same time— he’s always liked to be in charge.

That voice was right, because it’s feeling good now. Your brain buzzes pleasantly and you’re losing control of your legs.

Atsumu's moaning into your ear, Osamu's grunting with every push, and you feel hyper aware of every motion as you're slipping away.

The dull lights of the room begin to blur.

You're crying now. Your toes are curling and drool slips out of the corner of your mouth. How stupid you must look right now.

How long has it been? 5 minutes? 5 hours?

It has to be at least that long or else the numbness that you’re beginning to experience down there doesn’t make any sense.

Atsumu has resumed his efforts in making you feel good, overstimulating every fiber of your being as he wipes away your tears and nuzzles your neck. It’d be an innocent gesture if he wasn’t rubbing circles onto your clit.

Osamu has been working like a well-oiled machine, admiring your broken face and how good his lower half feels, circulating adrenaline throughout his body.

Just looking at you, choked up and crying, is enough.

"I'm cumming..." he whispers. No, he’s not. He can’t.

Not before his stupid twin does. And certainly not before you do.

"Come on, baby, beg for it," Atsumu whispers into your ear, as if he can read his brother’s thoughts.

Maybe they do have some sort of telepathy. Atsumu reaches forward and gently pushes down on your lower belly. You groan immediately. The slight pressure has your walls rubbing against their dicks even tighter now, and Osamu’s now grinding against that spot you love.

You’re gonna cum. Or pass out. Maybe both.

"Please!" You shout. Fuck pride. "Please, please, please, ‘Samu, please cum."

Annnd he’s coming. Osamu reaches out, grasps your neck, and squeezes.

Your cries are the only thing he can hear, loud enough to drown out Asumu’s words, and he’s losing sensation in his hips—

“Fuck, I love you, y/n…” Osamu says, admiring the way your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

Even as your eyesight flickers, you make out this confession, lips automatically parting to moan.

You tighten as Osamu releases in you, Atsumu following suit shortly after (something he’ll bully Osamu about later, no doubt).

There’s a certain stillness in the room as Osamu immediately slips out of you and turns away. Post-nut clarity’s setting in, and he realizes he’s not as fond of dick rubbing with Atsumu as he was a few minutes ago.

Atsumu’s still panting in your ear, and, after a few moments of rest, gently eases himself out of you. Unlike his usual self (who insists on cuddling with you after the deed, no matter how much bodily fluid you’re covered in) he allows you to roll away from him, still recoiling from the strong orgasm.

Surprisingly, the lazy asshole leaps off the bed first today.

“I’ll be taking a shower first. Alone.”

You muster enough energy to glance at him, then at Osamu. It’s so awkward you’d run out of the apartment if you could.

Osamu knows his brother is being especially kind today, letting him speak to you in private.

As Atsumu strides towards the bathroom, he catches Osamu’s eye and winks, smirking at Osamu’s middle finger.

Osamu can basically hear his twin’s inner voice— this is just payment for the fuck.

You shut your eyes, registering the closing bathroom door. Now that the pleasure has subsided, you realize that you’re just in pain. Your chest and hips, especially, from Atsumu’s relentless teasing and Osamu’s rough handling.

Damn it. You’re meeting with your friends tomorrow, how’re you going to hide these marks on your neck from them?

From the way Osamu had choked you, you’re almost certain there’s going to be a bruise. You do have that leftover, crusty concealer that Atsumu got you a few months back—

“y/n, do you hate me?”

Osamu’s deep voice interrupts your thoughts.

Your mouth instinctively opens, but you hesitate.

No.

“No.”

Because you really don’t. Despite everything they put you through, you can’t bring yourself to hate them.

Osamu lets out a silent sigh of relief, turning back to look at you.

“Do you love me?”

You can’t answer him as quickly this time.

Osamu and Atsumu were your brothers. They had been by your side for all of your childhood.

They were the first ones to teach you how to ride a bike, how to multiply and divide, how to cook rice.

They had been your first love. And even now… you’re relieved they’re with you, not in the bedrooms of other girls.

“I… do,” you admit. Fuck. You’re crazy. You know that. But you do.

Even though you don’t want to admit it, you’re just as twisted as your brothers. You bury your head under the covers as the heat rushes to your face.

“I wanna marry you.” Osamu suddenly announces, ripping back the blanket you’re holding to your face. He examines your blushing cheeks, and reaches down to grab your hand.

Yeah, it’d look much fucking better with a shiny ring. He should look into a jewelry maker first thing tomorrow morning.

“Nope. I already called dibs, ‘Samu,” the blonde haired setter interjects, throwing open the door as if awaiting his cue.

“Like months ago. Actually, years ago.”

Osamu frowns, prepared to retort back that actually, remember that you didn’t even like her when we first met her? You told dad you didn’t want him to marry mom because you didn’t want a sister, you little–

“We’re all Miyas here,” you say, predicting another fight. Despite your tiredness, you can't help but smile.

Yeah, you do love them.

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

a/n fun fact: i wrote this while meeting with my business class project group two semesters ago >.< depraved shit FR.. also no final read-through as usual bc i'm literally cringed out by my own writing LOL

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #msby atsumu #atsumu smut #miya osamu #miya twins #osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya twins smut

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jxsterr · 10 months

Text

i just might not be in the right circles but i don’t think we realise just how fucked up puppet zelda was for link to have to encounter. like the one thing that stuck out to me SPECIFICALLY was the crisis at hyrule castle questline that has link hopelessly run around after something that looks like zelda and sounds enough like her but you know there’s something deeply wrong. it was enough to disturb me when i played through it, just how close her voice was to being correct but being too solemn, being just a little too wispy, too repetitive. there’s so many things about the way she speaks that’s only a little bit off, something that a man like link, blinded and delusional by grief, would miss. he’d know deep down in his gut something is wrong, it sounds so much like her but nothing like her at the same time. every time she beckons for him his chest tightens and he feels sick and he doesn’t know why, but he does deep down. he knows this isn’t her, can’t be her, or that if it is something is deeply wrong and both outcomes are less than desirable. it’s so fucked up because realistically he isn’t going to know if he’s ever going to see her again. for all he knows she could remain wandering the putrid soils of the depths for the rest of time, but here her corpse is, being paraded around as if she truly was zelda when she’s nothing but an imposter in the skin of his lover.

so he runs and runs and fights tooth and nail for her and continuously gets close enough to just about touch her but then she disappears and almost taunts him, tells him she’s waiting and he’s growing frustrated because goddess why won’t you just stay put and let me come to you?? i’m coming, i’m trying but you keep running from me. please stop running from me. his mind is begging, pleading for her, screaming i need you i need you like a lost child because he is without her. he’s lost and a shell of the man he used to be, she is his other half and without her he’s downright nonfunctional. and despite the heartbreak of her constantly disappearing he still keeps trying, keeps following her and grows more and more desperate because he’s so close and now they’re in the sanctum and she’s stopped and maybe this is his chance so he takes a step forward and she’s doing it again. she’s taunting him, dancing around him while all he can do is turn around aimlessly in an attempt to follow her. but even then he doesn’t stop for a moment to think if this is zelda, what she’s doing is cruel because he’s far too hung up on the possibility of her being with him again he doesn’t even stop to get upset at her, doesn’t question why she’s torturing him and keeps his focus on getting to her. it’s things like this that show you why zelda has so much trust that he will be able to defeat ganondorf because he’s never stopped chasing after her and saving the world for her and he never will. she could fall and he would catch her, she could die and he would save her, she could be a husk of who she once was and he would still love her. it’s undying loyalty, unwavering love and determination to make sure she’s okay because to him, zelda is everything.

but then she stops and gets so close he could walk over there and hold her again but it’s a lie. it all was. it’s nothing short of desvastating because even though he knew something was awry it still hurts to be proven right. to have scars so painfully ripped open again knowing that he’s back to square one. the emotional turmoil that that must have put him through had to have been insane, if not soul crushing. he’d be inconsolable, sobbing and cursing the very ground ganondorf stood upon to the point where the sages would have to escort him out of the sanctum only for him to fight them because they’re the only people he can take anything out on right now. but it’s not fair because it’s not their fault, and the way that riju hushes him and does her best to speak soothingly while sidon rubs his back makes him feel all the more guilty. so they all stay there, tulin and yunobo on high alert while link is sat on the ground, knees to his chest and weeping because he was so close. he cries and cries until his throat gives out and he’s dehydrated, until sidon has to scoop him up and take him back to lookout landing and he can’t even bear to tell purah what happened but she already knows. nothing breaks through that tough exterior but the dangled hope of zelda’s return being ripped from him. none of the sages want to leave him in this state, so they camp out in lookout landing. tulin does his best to chatter on about all the cool things he’s been doing to stop link from falling completely numb and shutting everything off and it does kind of work, link cracks the slightest of smiles when tulin tells him how he took out an entire monster hideout by himself. he’s lost his world but maybe he can figure out how to keep fighting for her with friends by his side. he’ll just have to see.

927 notes · View notes

vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months

Note

Jack Harlow request: This idea just came to my mind, imagine Jack being out with the kids somewhere and a fan approaches him and gives him flowers. Of course he’s nice about it but the girls are like “ooooo- wait until mommy finds out.” And when you get home they tell you immediately before Jack gets a chance to. 🤣

Mommy's Day Off

"We're not done talking about this!", Jack's voice was gruff and loud, a giveaway that he was frustrated and upset. He was at his wits end in this argument but he wasn't willing to let sleeping dogs lie. He pulled at the curls at the back of his neck as he followed you around the house.

"Jack, lower your voice. Please", you bit back, your hands full of the kids' toys that were left around the house at the end of the night. "I just got Wes to sleep." You too were over this conversation, but you weren't ready to throw in the towel and forgive Jack yet.

You knew you were very lucky to be married to a man you considered your best friend, but that didn't mean you didn't have your issues. It was always the same argument with Jack; you would make plans for the family to spend time together, maybe a long weekend away or a Saturday outing, and his schedule would get in the way.

"You don't think I want to spend the weekend with my family instead of going to LA for some stupid press junket?" He didn't even feel like he had a leg to stand on in this fight, but he was contractually obligated to promote his new movie.

Jack felt like a broken record, having to defend his career tooth and nail against things he knew were more important to them. Sometimes he felt trapped in a cycle, forced to make sacrifices to keep his job afloat while also disappointing the people he cared about most, and it kept happening over and over again.

"I don't know, Jack", you sighed, as you adjusted the pillows on the couch, finding a stray baby sock in the crack of the cushions. "Do you?" You knew that was a low blow, but you were upset and caught up in the moment. You turned to face him, the hurt lingering on his features as he looked at you. "You're gonna leave this weekend, and I'll be here, alone, with three kids. Its not fair how much slack I have to pick up when you're not here."

Jack let out a breath through his nostrils, his jaw flexing as he tried to calm his breathing. "I keep telling you we could get a nanny or my mom offered to help you with the kids, but you keep shooting the idea down." You could feel your body tense, the grip you had on one of Aaliyah's stuffies strong enough to rip the head off at the seams. "Why are you so stubborn about it?"

It may have been unintentional, but Jack sure knew how to push your buttons.

"Because I want my husband here!" All of the items you had in your arms flew across the room when you threw your hands up. Jack stepped back to avoid a heavy plastic toy landing on his foot, as well as your wrath.

"I love Maggie, and she's such a great grandma, but its not fair to ask her to help out all the time, and I sure as hell don't want a stranger in our house around the kids! I want the man that I started this family with? Is that really so much to as for?" God, it felt good to get that off of your chest, even though you knew it didn't solve anything.

"Baby, lower your voice." Jack regretted shushing you as soon as he said it, the look you gave him enough to shut him up for the rest of the night. You took in a sharp breath, prepared to give him a piece of your mind when you heard a cry out in the distance. "Great", you mumbled under your breath, your teeth gritted together.

"Go get him, I'll clean up this mess up", Jack whispered as you left him standing alone in the living room.

****

The next morning, Jack's eyes fluttered open to the sound of Aaliyah running through the house. "Daddy, what're you doing in the libing room?" He sat up, trying to stretch out the crick in his neck from sleeping uncomfortably all night. "Daddy was silly last night, he got in trouble with mama."

Her face scrunched in a way that made him chuckle, her arms draping around his neck as she played with his ears. "Did you get put in time out?"

"I did", Jack lowered his voice to a whisper when he saw you walk past him. "An eight hour time out." He picked her up and headed into the kitchen.

Brooklyn was already eating her cereal and you had a fussy Wes balanced in your arms as you made Aaliyah some oatmeal. Jack had a moment of panic when he looked at the time. "Wait, aren't the girls going to be late for school?"

"We don't have school today. It's President's Day", Brooklyn said with a smile.

"That's right", Jack sighed as he ran his fingers through his messy chestnut curls, "I forgot all about that."

He looked over to you, his stomach in knots after your fight last night. You could feel his eyes on you, but sleep did nothing to fix your frustrations, so you weren't interested in making nice this morning. "I've got the studio reserved today and then I was thinking we could grab dinner tonight when I get home." That had the girls excited, both giddy about going to their favorite restaurant in Louisville. "Sound good to you, babe?" He was desperate to hear you say anything, even a single word.

"Actually, that's not gonna work for me", you uttered with a sarcastic tone. You handed Wesley to Jack, who balanced him on his forearm. "I'm gonna take the day off, go to brunch with my friends, maybe make it a spa day. You can take the kids with you to the studio."

Jack let out a frustrated breath. "I was really looking to buckle down and get some work done today", he spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "I think the girls would rather spend the day with their grandparents. I'll call them."

"Don't bother." You stopped him before he could grab his phone off the counter. "Your dad is spending the day with Clay, and I'm treating your mom to a well deserved day off." You turned to the girls, "doesn't a day with Daddy sound like fun?" Aaliyah let out a squeal of excitement. "Will Uncle Urby be there?" Brooklyn asked, a little bit hesitant about spending the day cooped up in a soundproof room, but if her favorite uncle was there, she could suck it up.

"Yeah, I'll make sure he comes", Jack said as he shot off a text to his best friend. "We're gonna get dressed!" Brooklyn took Aaliyah by the hand and they both ran up stairs to their room.

Alone in the kitchen, Jack turned to you. "I know you're upset with me, but this is unfair. You know how much pressure I'm under to finish this album."

You let out a hum as you gently grazed a finger along Wesley's cheek. "Jack, in all the years we've been married and been a family, I have always been incredibly understanding of you and your work. I've stood by you through everything, and I have never asked you to choose between us or your music career, because I know how important it is to you But I am exhausted. I'm taking this day for me, and you're just going to have to figure it out." You gave Wesley a kiss on the forehead and walked away before Jack could get another word out.

****

"Aaliyah, sit in your seat, please." Jack wiped the sweat off of his brow as he picked the diaper bag off the ground and placed it underneath the car seat.

Getting all three kids into the car proved to be more of a challenge than he was expecting, and he was already 30 minutes late for his slot at the studio and he hadn't even left the house. Wesley had a blowout right after he changed him into his clothes, and Aaliyah was having a meltdown over one of her stuffies.

"No! I need Mr. Effie! I can't leave the house without him", Aaliyah spoke through tears, her arms crossed over her chest. "Baby, we don't have time to find your stuffed elephant, we have to go." Jack said with an exasperated tone. "Now, please, sit in your seat."

"I can't go without him!", she cried out again. "Aaliyah, that's enough." Jack was trying his hardest to control his tone.

Brooklyn looked up from her iPad. "Dad, Mr. Effie is in the laundry room. Liyah got some apple sauce on him yesterday so mom had to wash him."

"Okay, watch your siblings. I'll be right back", Jack shut the car door and jogged into the house to find the stuffed animal. He frantically searched through the pile of clean clothes until he saw a peak of the elephant's trunk underneath. He snatched the toy and ran out the house.

"Thank you Daddy!", Aaliyah wiped her face and cuddled Mr. Effie close. Jack hopped into the front seat and turned to face the girls. "You're welcome. Now listen, I need to get work done today, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay? No tears, no screaming, just being the sweet girls I know you can be."

"Yes, Dad", both girls said in unison as Jack pulled out of the garage and headed to the studio.

When they arrived downtown, Jack's head was buried so far in the diaper bag to find a pacifier for Wesley, he barely noticed the young woman who approached him in the parking lot.

"Excuse me, are you Jack Harlow?" Jack's head shot up and was on a swivel to see who was speaking. He had a moment of panic that he was being approached by some paps and that was the last thing he needed right now. The girl to the left of him looked harmless enough, nervous even, as she gave him a big smile.

"Sorry, you scared me", Jack chuckled, slinging the diaper bag on his shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm-I'm just such a big fan of yours." She stuttered over her words, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you, that's so sweet of you to say. I've gotta get inside, but thank-"

"Hi!" Aaliyah waived at the fan from the backseat. "I'm Aaliyah! What's your name? " She was still too young to understand Jack's career and fame, and thought he just had a lot of friends everywhere they went.

Jack was quick to shut down the interaction. "Baby, get your stuff together so we can go inside." He was very protective of his family, and even though most of his fans were nice, he tried to prevent exposing the girls to the public as much as possible. He turned back to the fan who was now holding a bouquet of flowers in his face. "Oh, are these for me?"

"Yeah, your music has meant so much to me, I always said if I ever met you, I'd return the favor." Jack felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, it always meant so much to him when he came across a fan of his. "Thank you, that's incredibly nice of you." He gave her a hug and took a selfie with her before she took off.

"Daddy, those flowers are beautiful! Was that your girlfriend?", Aaliyah asked, her eyes wide at the beautiful bouquet. Jack knitted his brow together. "No baby, I don't have a girlfriend, I only have eyes for mama."

"She's not his girlfriend, but she is a secret admirer", Brooklyn teased as she jumped out of the car. "Mama's gonna be mad when she finds out."

"What's a secret amirer?", Aaliyah asked with a tilt of her head. "Its someone who secretly likes you, and she wasn't a secret admirer, she was just a nice fan." Jack grabbed the car seat out of the car, Wesley sleeping peacefully through all of the commotion. "Let's not tell Mama about this okay? I'm already in the dog house with her." He grabbed Aaliyah's hand as they rushed into the building. "Let's get inside, I'm already so late."

"Dog house?" Aaliyah questioned, looking up at Brooklyn, who just shrugged.

The three year old was learning a lot of new phrases today.

****

It was after dark when you finally got home. You noticed Jack's SUV in the garage when you pulled up into the driveway. You immediately felt guilty for leaving him by himself today, as soon as you left the house, but you had to admit, a day off was exactly what you needed. You had the stress massaged, waxed off, and plucked out of you with tweezers, and you were feeling a lot better.

Still, you knew it wasn't right to leave a fight unresolved, so you brought a peace offering, grabbing the boxes of pizza from your family's favorite place, out of the passenger seat before you headed inside. The house was eerily quiet, with three kids that was rarely a good sign, but everything seemed to be in once piece.

Its wasn't that you didn't trust Jack to take care of things, he was a fantastic father, but even you lost track of the house after a long day.

You flipped on the kitchen light, your breath hitching at the sight of the beautiful bouquet on the counter, full of your favorite flowers. You took a moment to sniff at the roses, your stomach fluttering at the romantic gesture.

You got so caught up in your emotion today, you let yourself forget for a moment that you were married to a man who made you feel incredibly loved and cherished every single day. Sure, you had your problems, but the good always outweighed the bad.

"Mama! Did you have a good spa day?" Brooklyn collapsed into a hug with you as soon as she saw you, making you stumble back. "I did. Did everything go okay today while I was gone?"

"We got to touch all the pretty buttons on the computer today!" Aaliyah exclaimed as she climbed into a dining chair. "You did? Did you behave for Daddy?", you asked, giving the girls some pizza. "Uncle Urby let us take pictures with his camera, it was a lot of fun", Brooklyn chimed in, her mouth full of cheese.

"The girls were very good, I was very proud of them." You felt Jack's presence as he walked into the kitchen, wearing a pair of sweats, his curls hanging in his face.

"Hi", he whispered with a small smile when you looked at him. He wouldn't admit it, but between being upset over your fight and taking care of the kids, he didn't get any work done today. He couldn't get you off of his mind, and all he wanted to do was hug you and apologize profusely.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" You grabbed Jack's hand and led him into the hallway, out of sight of the girls. As soon as you stopped and turned, you pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. Jack sighed contently as he held you against his chest, his hands roped around your waist.

"I hate fighting with you", you mumbled into his sweatshirt. "I do too", Jack admitted, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You pulled back, stroking Jack's beard between your fingers. "I'm sorry. I never should have guilted you for working. I did exactly what I said I'd never do." You felt tears start to build in your lashes, the lump in your throat building.

"You were right, though", Jack wiped the wetness under your eye away with his thumb, "its not fair how much work you have to do when I'm not here. I feel so lucky that our kids have you, because today was a lot, and I can only imagine what you have to put up with every day."

You giggled, pulling him in by the neck for a quick kiss. "I wouldn't change it for the world." He felt so much better now that you two had made up and he had you back in his arms.

"Thank you so much for the flowers too, they're beautiful." You squeezed his hand affectionately as you walked back into the kitchen. Jack had no idea what you were talking about. "You're welcome?", he did a terrible job hiding the inflection in his voice. It didn't connect until he saw the flowers the fan gave him this morning. He'd completely forgotten about them in the rush of the day.

"Mama! Did you see the flowers?" Aaliyah ran over to you, and you picked her up, walking over to the flowers. "I did, they're beautiful, Daddy did a wonderful job."

"Daddy didn't buy these flowers", your middle child had zero filter or ability to keep a secret. Jack cowered, realizing his apology to you was short lived. You looked over at him. "What is she talking about?"

"He got them from a pretty lady. His secret admiral", her genetic dimple showed as she smiled big, so happy with herself for remembering the words. "Your what?" Your eyes were still on Jack, who was nervously biting at his thumb nail.

"Huh?" he perked up, pretending he didn't hear a word either of you said.

"We told him you were gonna be upset, Mama." Brooklyn admitted, biting another piece off of her slice of pizza.

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#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fanfic

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pedgito · 6 months

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Four: Snowball Fights, Shared Space & Understanding (Week Three)

Chapter Summary: As your vacation is quickly coming to an end, you and Joel find that opening up to each other is easier but bittersweet, knowing you have little time left to spend together.

Chapter Warnings: (9k) : no outbreak, vague backstory for reader (mentions of rocky relationship with parents, reform school, rebellious behavior), vague backstory for joel (mentions of alcohol, poor decision making, endangering sarah at a young age), snowman building, joel refuses to have a sweet tooth, slight somnophilia at the beginning (joel is half-awake), solo masturbation, unprotected piv, very light choking, if i missed anything please let me know!

There’s a thready pulse to your heart that startles you awake, ripping you from your dreams—Joel’s hands all over, his hot touch setting your body on fire, mumbling things into your skin that you can’t make out—mindless words that only make sense to him, and the consistent throbbing of your cunt as he grinds, grinds, grinds until you think he might just slip inside of you with how persistent he’s being and then you’re gasping awake—

But, Joel’s still there and his hands are all over you. He’s asleep, mostly. Your thigh tucked over his hips where he’s got his hand twisted in your shorts and ruts his hips insistently against your cunt, face slightly twisted up in frustration at the annoying lack of tangible friction.

He’s dry humping you in his sleep and he’s being needy about it, the lack of barrier from exhaustion allowing you a small glimpse into just how deprived Joel was, at least, in the moment.

You shake him gently, fighting back the urge to moan out loudly, just the impression of his thick cock against you driving you mad, his grip barricading you in and not giving you much room to move. If he was going to keep you stuck here, you were going to make the most of it.

When he doesn’t wake, you shift your weight slightly until you’re fully seated in his lap, chest pressed against his own and you notice the furrow of worry lines between his brow, wondering curious about what he was imagining in his mind, even as his grip grew tighter, blunt nails pressing into soft, warm skin.

You rock your hips ever so slightly, hands pressed into the mattress beneath you both for leverage, eyes locked on Joel as you drink in the sight of him, completely vulnerable, no masking his emotions. There's a soft groan, a shift of his hips as he spreads his legs and it forces you more upright in fear of falling as you slap your hands against his chest softly to steady yourself.

“Hmmm,” It’s a long sigh, a deep breath through his nose as he stirs, “mornin’ to you too, darlin’.”

The sticky sweet thickness to his voice shouldn’t make you smile, but it does. You rock your hips more insistently now as he blinks himself awake, mouth catching open in a soft moan as he shifts himself more rightfully into place, eyes half-lidded as he gazes upon you, like the idea of taking his eyes off you might actually kill him.

“Could’ve woke me up, y’know.” He continues, gripping you more securely as his hands settle against your hips, aiding in the impatient grind against his quickly hardening cock, trapped underneath a pair of sleep pants that you were nearly ready to rip away from his body.

“Joel,” You release a breathy laugh, head thrown back as you stare at the ceiling, grinding down a little harder for good measure, forcing a rough groan from his throat, “you woke me up—someone was having a very…good dream. I hope.”

Joel rises slowly, arm circling your waist until he can position his back against the headboard but still keep you securely in his lap, saving him the trouble of dealing with the ache earlier, allowing the gentle touch you lay to his face before your hands quickly disappear into his hair, pulling at the salt and peppery strands until it engages some type of reaction, a subtle smirk as he encourages the intensity of your rut, pussy having already soaked through your underwear and quickly dampening his own clothes—and he feels it, the soaking wet heat that he didn’t realize he could crave like this.

He got it out of his system. He was fine.

No. Not fine at all, actually.

Joel chuckles at that, knowing his guilt but not immediately admitting it.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ bout,” Joel says, tendons in his neck stressing as he strained his neck, head rolling against the headboard as you circled your hips playfully—”Goddamn, that’s—”

Joel’s eyes squeezed close, a shallow breath slipping past his lips. Neither of you were going to come like this, you knew that much. But, it was fun to watch Joel squirm a little and leave him hot and bothered for the rest of the day.

Joel knew he couldn’t quit you now, not a chance against the conniving smirk on your face as you slow to a definite stop, standing on both legs and adjusting your clothes hastily.

“Breakfast?” You question kindly.

Yeah, fuckin’ breakfast. Joel huffs out a tired chuckle and nods.

He knows he should restrain himself, keep his walls up, but there was something about you that made it impossible, his eyes watching the gentle sway of your hips as you leave him high and dry from his own selfish actions.

A short breakfast and front row seat of Joel chopping wood, to which you openly joined this time, all snuggled up in your biggest winter coat as you gawked openly for the duration, a sly smirk on Joel’s face every time he swung the axe above his head.

The throb in your cunt was a dangerous sign, that even the most mundane things had you drooling over this man—chopping wood, cooking, housework.

It was abysmal.

Once done, you manage to argue Joel into letting you help with a few stacks of wood so he didn’t bear the load himself, to which he begrudgingly agrees.

A few minutes and a couple less layers later, you’re both hovering around the kitchen, wandering about aimlessly for something to cure the cold.

Joel slides you a steaming cup of hot cocoa after a while, topped off with a mountain of tiny marshmallows as he leaves his bare and it’s an atrocity, really.

“Joel, seriously?” You ask, dead-staring him over the rim of your cup, cradled between your two hands as you lean forward against the counter, elbows propped up against the marble. “No marshmallows is a little ridiculous.”

“What?” He sounds offended, he is. Damn marshmallows, fuck ‘em. “I like what I like.”

And there’s a double meaning there, hell, even a triple. But, you leave it alone.

“You know what else is ridiculous,” You start, not allowing him to answer as you think out loud, “this cabin doesn’t even have a Christmas tree but they decorated the shit out of the outside.”

Joel chuckles against the mug as he sips loudly.

“Yeah, I noticed that too.” Joel comments, “Guessin’ they blew the budget on the lights.”

“You always put your tree up for Christmas?” You ask curiously.

Joel shakes his head, “Sometimes. You?”

Right. He wouldn’t know these things. But, with a level of trust built, you’re willing to share.

“Yeah—every fuckin’ year, right at the beginning of November. They don’t even wait until after Thanksgiving, it’s a little obnoxious.” You admit, placing your cup against the counter gently and folding your arms over your chest, “The few years I didn’t spend with them were actually nice, got to decorate my own little tree, even if I didn’t have anything to put under it.”

Color Joel intrigued, he raises his eyebrows slightly, “Care to elaborate on that?”

“All girls’ military school,” You smirk, deconstructing Joel’s reaction carefully—his face softens, grips tightening around the handle of his cup and he grunts, shaking his head slightly, “—don’t worry, it wasn’t all bad.”

“Doesn’t seem right,” Joel argues, “sendin’ you away like that.”

“I wasn’t great, Joel,” You admit, “I was staying out after curfew, drinking, hanging around people I shouldn’t have—I was trying to rebel against my parents for smothering me all the time and it eventually got to a point where they didn’t know how to handle me.”

Joel mirrors you now, cup resting on the table as he leans his hip into the counter and crosses his arms, “So, I’m guessin’ it worked then?”

You shrug, “I was there for a few years, until my final year of high school. It was nice—if I wanted to be alone, I could be. But, there were always people to talk to, so it wasn’t like I was sequestered the entire time. Every Christmas we’d pull a name and have to make something for someone—I got really good at knitting there for a while.”

“Knitting,” Joel tests the words on his tongue, almost like he’s teasing you, “that’s…nice.”

“Shut up,” You reach across the counter to shove him gently, “You carve wood, okay?”

Fair is fair. Joel nods knowingly.

“It kept me out of trouble, though,” You continue, “—and even if my relationship with my parents is still weird, I see why they did it now, definitely not at the time. I was young, I wanted to be treated like I was older…and now that I’m older, well—”

“It sucks.” Joel deduces.

“Not entirely,” Your eyes soften, the corner of your mouth turning upwards, “—what about you?”

“I tried to set a good example,” Joel starts, “for my brother and all—”

Woah, brother?

You hold your hands up to stall him, “Okay—walk that back, brother? You have a brother?”

“Younger,” Joel says, “By about five years. His name is Tommy.”

Joel and Tommy. Sarah and Joel. They’re names you store away into your brain, little keepsakes as memories of a man you would soon forget.

“Anyways, I was gettin’ into a lot of fights, mostly for him.” Joel shakes his head at the thought, “Scrawny little shit who thought he was tougher than he actually was at the time, it was never anything good when he came runnin’ my way.”

You understand his quickness to defense now, always ready to protect himself.

“So, you’re a family man,” You deduce with a soft smile, “I guess that tracks.”

Joel raises a questionable eyebrow, lazily making his way around the island to stand beside you, less distance craved after a night of intense connection that left you both craving more. He doesn’t touch, just leans an arm on the counter and allows it to support his weight.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug, “You seem like you have a natural instinct for taking care of people, no matter how grumpy you try to come across.” Joel’s heard that before, nearly a million times.

“C’mon brother, stop bein' such a downer.” Tommy would nag when Joel would rather spend a night in.

“Dad, why are you always so upset?” Sarah would ask, catching the permanent scowl on Joel’s face.

And it wasn’t that he was always angry or riddled with something on his mind, but after years of feeling like he was always coming up short and being served the short end of the stick, it had morphed into his personality.

Though, here, it’s waned with each passing day. It’s like a heavy weight lifting off of his chest that’s been there for years—not easily fixed in one day, but possibly over time.

“Got a lot on my mind,” Joel offers vaguely, “and a lot goin’ on outside of here.”

Here. With you. In the safety of this cabin. A bubble from the outside world.

You purse your lips after a long sip, fingers tapping against the ceramic mug as you contemplate how far you wanted to drive this conversation, curious if Joel would open up more or not. He’s got his eyes on you now, the fingers curled into a fist twitching slightly beside yours like he was willing himself from reaching out to touch, begging for another moment of connection.

“I’m gonna ask you something,” You tell him, “but I understand if it’s too personal…”

Joel hates the preemptive hesitance in your voice, but he nods.

“Your daughter, Sarah—I’m guessing you split custody with her mom?”

Joel breathes out slowly, wondering how deep he should delve into the mess that he’d created so long ago. A mistake that uprooted his life and tore his family from him.

“Yeah—I get ‘er every other Christmas and every other Summer.” Joel explains, quiet as he hikes a foot onto the footrest under your stool, reaching up hesitantly to wipe away the hot cocoa residue you had acquired on your top lip, fingers lingering around your mouth, “so, I had her this summer, next year I’ll have Christmas with her.”

You slice the tension and grab hold of his palm gently, slipping his thumb into your mouth to rid him of the sticky residue, noting the small change in his gaze and the way his shoulders shift back.

He knows he has to cut this short or things will never get done, pulling back gently as he takes a glance outside. It’s a calm day, disregarding the mountains of snow.

“I’m gonna shovel the drive and head into town, maybe grab a couple movies while I’m there.” Joel tells you, “Comin’ with?”

And as much as you’d love to jump on the opportunity, you decide against it.

“I think I’m gonna try and take a nap,” You chide playfully, “because, for some reason—just couldn’t go back to sleep this morning.”

Joel makes a soft hum noise, aiming to look clueless but looking more guilty than anything.

You smile more cheerfully and slip off of the stool, bodies pressed chest to chest.

“Oh, don’t look so innocent.” You tease, brushing your lips against his gently and Joel goes still, eyes following your movement as you almost, almost kiss him, breath fanning against his lips as you speak, “But, if you’re gonna get that frisky in your sleep you might as well fuck me.”

Joel knows what you’re implying, sees the spark in your eye as you catch his gaze, the hotness of your touch on his as your hands resting against his side, the steady rhythm of your breathing from where your chest is pressed against his.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” Joel tells you bravely, despite the growing hardness in his jeans that he knows you can feel, “Three, tops.”

Somehow, you think it’ll take him half the time.

As if you could actually nap.

That wasn’t happening.

You try to give it some time, even shrugging on your coat to take a short walk outside and cool off, but you ran hot and bothered and it was all entirely Joel’s fault. You couldn’t tag along during the ride because you were positive it would’ve ended with you bent over his lap or his cock buried in your mouth somewhere off the side of a road, uncaring of the cars that pass by.

About a hour into Joel’s time away, you find yourself on the couch on your back, book held up by tired arms, reading the same passage over and over until your brain hurts, the words morphing together and the insistent throb between your legs from this morning still there, stronger even.

There was never a time that you’ve felt this strongly toward anyone, tangible feelings or not.

You slap the book against the couch arm above your head and huff, hands resting against your chest as you count the wooden panels in the ceiling, fingers tapping insistently against shirt.

It’s been an hour, given he didn’t speed you might have about another hour or so until he comes back. But, the roads had to be clearer than last week and before, so there’s no telling. But, you know the drive is long and even if Joel sped there and back, you’d have enough time to…handle your issue.

And, you could’ve moved this to the bedroom, but where was the fun in that?

There’s a half second where you hesitate against pushing your pants down completely, fearful that you may be caught, but there wasn’t a chance of it aside from the birds that chirped outside the window and Joel had flustered you to no end this morning—you were allowing yourself this.

With nimble fingers, you undress from the waist down, clothes haphazardly thrown to the floor, feet planted lazily against the cushions as you trailed a slow finger down your abdomen, stopping briefly as you lingered, thinking about Joel and his thick fingers, overworked and attuned to a woman’s body.

You weren’t so sorely lacking in experiences, but you had truly been robbed of a good, good hookup–too many flimsy college boys who couldn’t figure it out, never worried about your needs and purely their own. And as easily as you could satisfy yourself—it just wasn’t enough.

Until last night.

Joel, a literal stranger that you’ve known for a little over three weeks, has somehow managed to alter your entire thought process—wondering just how much you were missing out on, depriving yourself of, by not experiencing new things and taking chances.

You didn’t care that Joel was nearly twice your age or had an entire family of his own, that he had lived and experienced far more life than you have, had stories upon stories that you were sure you could weasel out of him someday.

Someday, before you left. The sudden feeling of disappointment doesn’t stifle the annoying need between your thighs, fingers guiding down the seam of your cunt gently, cold to the touch as you jump slightly, thinking solely about Joel and nothing else.

It’s all your mind could manage anymore

Joel. Joel. Joel.

Joel making his coffee in the morning. Joel bent over starting the fireplace. Joel stretching out his aching muscles after a long period of sitting down on the couch too long. Joel scrunching his face up at a silly joke you make or how he often peeks over your shoulder as you’re flipping through a book, his lips hesitating to ask a question but fearful to interrupt your reading. Joel, who had no restrain in his sleep as he rutted against you, desperate for any type of friction.

Your fingers slip through the collective wetness that has accumulated nearly all fucking morning, dipping two fingers inside of you from the start, not as satisfying as the thickness of Joel’s cock but it would work for now, using your other hand to slip under your shirt, rising it halfway up your stomach as you dragged your fingertips over your breast, grazing your nipple as it pebbled under your touch, sighing at the tiniest bit of relief.

You couldn’t imagine how Joel was fairing after this morning, leaving him unfinished and clearly hoping for more, but it was a small, needed punishment for waking you up so abruptly and then playing coy about it instead of fessing up to it.

And as good as it feels to have this bit of relief, it is nothing like what you need.

Seconds turn into minutes, long deep pauses as you think about Joel, hands tracing over his skin and remembering how easily he tensed under your touch, like it had been years since he’s felt such a thing. You feel yourself ramping up, fingers trailing up to find your clit and rubbing insistently, knowing that if you focused hard enough this would be over in seconds, the hand covering your chest slipping over the arm of the couch as you whine softly, booking slipping and slapping against the floor loudly, so lost in the near blackout orgasm that you don’t even hear the front door open or his footsteps as he approaches, eyes closed tight—

You feel his touch before you hear him speak, his hand reaching out to touch your chin, guiding it toward the left, where he’s positioned over the couch, staring down at you with a deep fire behind his eyes, “Couldn’t wait, could you?”

Your eyes open slowly, vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of his smug smirk, hands instantly removing themselves from your body as you sit up suddenly, heart racing for a few reasons.

Well, so much for that.

“That—that was quick,” You respond, slightly out of breath but Joel’s fiery expression doesn’t falter, “did you—did you find anything good?”

Joel nods toward the plastic bag placed on the table in the kitchen several feet away, though his eyes never leave you, shirt still askew and allowing Joel an unobscured view of the soft curve of your ass, feet tucked under you.

“So—” You pause, his hand leaving your face briefly as they grip the top of the couch, white-knuckling the material as he looks down at you stone-faced and if that didn’t make your pussy throb with the fierceness of his gaze, it was his next few words, “movie time?”

Joel chuckles darkly, a quiet noise under his breath, beckoning with his fingers as you raise fully onto your knees despite your usual tendency to disobey and argue, gripping your face firmly under your chin, the expanse of his palm wrapping around your neck but not squeezing, a solid pressure to keep you still and maneuver you as he pleased, “Or, I can fix that little problem.”

It’s a suggestion that has your ears perking up instantly, a slow grin growing on your face.

“Whaddya say, darlin’?” He asks, “Let me finish the job?”

Considering he was the entire reason you were so pent up—about fucking time.

Caught up in the moment, you pull at him suddenly and send him scrambling over the back of the couch—but by a stroke of luck, Joel manages quite well, catching himself as he strips himself in a hurry, feeling like he was back in high school in the back of his truck with a willing and pliant participant spread over his lap. It never ceases to amaze him how easily you make him feel that surge of excitement he once felt so long ago, like you were breathing new life into him everyday.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

He’s wincing slightly, but he forces himself to stifle it, nodding his head.

You giggle softly, covering your mouth with your hand as he quickly shoves his jeans down his legs, underwear with them, cock bobbing up proudly against his shirt.

“C’mere,” He urges, hoisting your thigh over his lap, feeling the full support of his grip as he spreads you wide, shoving your shirt up your chest and quickly pulling it over your head, the soft bounce of your tits as the fabric disappears has Joel’s eyes locked in, “—god, sweetheart—”

You bite your lip to stifle your yelp as Joel latches onto your skin without hesitation, teeth digging into the flesh gently, playful, his eyes peeking up at you curiously as you glance down at him, your mouth hung open wantingly, his tongue swirling around your nipple in a fleeting motion before he’s sucking at a sensitive spot on the underside of your breast, leaving you halfway leaning back off his lap if it weren't for the secure grip you had around his neck, fingers tangling into his mused, pillowy soft locks.

And you feel his bare cock nudging against the seam of your pussy, sliding easily through the wetness, like a hot brand against your skin as he grips your hip tight and guides you against him, the slow and gentle rock of skin against skin, knowing that one wrong move would have him slipping inside of you with no protection.

But, there’s a feeling in your chest that screams for you to let it happen. The want, the need, the curiosity of pure, unobstructed connection. You knew it was naive and stupid and you’re not trying to force the blame on Joel, knowing it is fully your fault. But, the idea of Joel inside of you, thick cock splitting you open, for once your mind finds that the rewards outweigh the risks.

“Inside me,” You gasp, Joel busy trailing a long line of kisses up your sternum, wandering hands squeezing and needing at supple, pliant flesh until you feel like you might burst, “need it—fuck, come on, Joel.”

Joel pants, blinking back to reality as he peers up at you, “Yeah—yeah, go on and grab one.”

You shake your head, blindly reaching for his shaft and squeezing your hand around the girth of it, guiding him until the head of his cock catches your entrance, just resting for a moment as his brain finally catches up with what you’re asking—more so, doing.

“Woah, darlin’ that’s—” Joel grabs your wrist, “we don’ have to do all that. I’m fine fuckin’ you either way, don’t make no difference.”

You call bullshit, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Let me tell you a little secret,” You say softly, breathing hotly against his mouth as he lets you guide him back a few inches by his hair, “I’ve never had an orgasm with literally…anyone I’ve had sex with, until last night.” Joel’s expression changes immensely, forming into a deep scowl.

Well, that was a damn shame.

And damn if he wasn’t on a mission to change that over the next couple weeks.

“If I’m telling you I want you to fuck me without a condom, I want it,” You say clearly, making sure you have his attention, trying to create clear boundaries with each other, “do you?”

Joel looks slightly offended, scrunching his nose up briefly, “You really askin’ me that?”

You smile slightly, slipping his head a few inches past your entrance, body greedily squeezing him in, your breath catching at the feeling of unbridled warmth as you sank further onto him until you’re fully seated in his lap, somehow in the midst of that finding that Joel had almost fully reclined his head, eyes closed as he allowed himself a moment.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, slightly concerned but also amused, knowing that he was probably masking some of his discomfort from you pulling him over the couch in a rush.

Joel nods quietly, “Nothin’ I can’t handle,” He assures, rubbing a gentle hand against your back as he urges you to move, “go on, I’ll catch up eventually.”

Selfishly, Joel just wants to watch you bounce on his cock, watch as you cunt greedily takes every inch he has to offer and squeeze like a vice around his shaft. You start slowly, gaining your bearings, hands curled over the back of the couch for leverage, hips moving at a comfortable speed as you rise just enough that the head of his cock almost slips before steadily moving back down, watching the minuscule changes in Joel’s expression as his grip on reality slowly snaps.

“Oh, baby,” He sighs and it has your hole fluttering around him at the endearment, butterflies flurrying in your stomach—it means nothing, you know that. Still, it’s nice to hear, “—fuck, pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, can’t—can’t fuckin’ believe this—”

You pant heavily, switching up speeds as Joel finally rises to meet your pace, hugging you closely, head buried against your chest, free hand pressed against the couch as leverage as he aids the quick snap of his hips as he fucks into you, “Can’t—believe what?” You ask through a few slow breaths.

“You thinkin’ my old ass deserves any of this,” He says, muffled against your skin, voice sounded tight and tense, clearly not willing to hold out much longer, given how riled up he still was from this morning, “I’m no—no fuckin’ good.”

Wherever it’s coming from, you weren’t having it, forcing him to look up at him as you cup his face, feeling the odd string of connection between each other as you gaze into each other’s eyes, feeling the word dissipate away as you moved against him feverishly.

“So fuckin’ good,” You mumble mindlessly, feeling his hand sneak down to work quickly against your clit, knowing he didn’t have much time himself, “so, sososo fuckin’ good, Joel.”

“Say it again,” He groans, “Say my name, baby.”

“Joel.” You whine softly, blunt nails clawing at his neck as he applies just the right amount of pressure you need to tip over the edge. “God, Joel.”

It’s just what he needs, the neediness in your voice as he grunts roughly, feeling you shake gently through your orgasm before he swiftly pulls you off, gripping himself swiftly as he comes in thick, hot spurts into his palm, trying to contain the mess, but you could care less. With your eyes locked on his fucked-out expression, so exhausted he looks on the precipice of falling asleep right then. He reaches blindly for an article of his clothing and wipes his hand off discreetly.

You fall against him gently, massaging his scalp gently as he nips at your chest briefly, causing you to giggle into his cheek from where you’re resting.

“You’re gonna make it impossible to leave,” You admit jokingly, even if there was some truth, “and ruin all other men for me.”

Joel can’t do anything but chuckle, struggling to find the will to move but settled with the idea of sitting here with you the rest of the day.

Night comes slow, after dinner and well past midnight. Joel is laid out on the couch with a blanket around his waist, arm tucked under his head as he watches the movie on the screen, sensing your lingering presence as he looks over his shoulder, catching you sneaking around.

He notices the way you perk up slightly, always seeking his attention in whatever form.

“Come lay with me,” He invites, scooting backwards to allow room for you, pulling you close when you settle, leg secured over his hip as your back faces the movie, allowing you a selfish moment to admire his face, flashing lights under the dull screen as his eyes squint to examine something you can’t be bothered to look at for yourself, too entranced by him.

You sigh softly, picking at a tiny hole on the front of his shirt with your fingernail, “Should I feel guilty that I haven’t worried about home since I got here?” You ask hesitantly, “Because I do.”

Joel looks at you briefly before he decides to pause the movie entirely, dropping the remote somewhere on the floor as he holds you waist tenderly, rubbing his thumb against a patch of skin as he maneuvers his way under your shirt.

“Don’t,” He tells you, “Can’t tell how much you’ve helped keep my mind off of things back home.”

There’s a tinge of regret in his voice, surrounded by sadness and lingering like a cloud.

“Still think about ‘er all the time,” Joel adds quietly, “Sarah.”

Oh. He looks down at you briefly, gauging your reaction. Wondering if the mention of her made you uncomfortable, if he was crossing a line by allowing himself to be vulnerable for a moment.

He trusted you, in a way. It could’ve been the lingering feeling of this all being so temporary, but he finds solace in the idea that you accept him so openly.

“You know, it’s not my place to ask,” You know that, he knows that, “and I’m not going to force it out of you, but if you want to talk about stuff, I’m open to it. I have no reason to ridicule you, Joel.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Tell me about your daughter,” You tell him genuinely, watching his face light up briefly, “how old is she?”

“Thirteen,” He answers simply, “had her a little late in life but I don’t think I could love someone more than I love that kid.”

You respond to his happiness, smiling alongside.

“So, she likes butterflies?”

“Yeah, she’s got them hangin’ up all over her room, all over everything, really. And she started playing soccer over the summer—it’s…weird.”

You furrow your brow in confusion, questioning his choice of words.

“Just—all the moms.” He explains easily, “And I’m the only dad, they make it seem like I’m some saint for showin’ up to practices and games.”

“I’m sure you are,” You tell him, “you love her, you like being there for her.”

Joel nods quietly, scrunching his nose as he sniffles, blinking away a sudden onslaught of emotion, eyes burning with the beginnings of what he knows are tears. He looks away, forces it back for as long as he can.

“So, the custody thing?” You ask, knowing it was a subject that had a lot of complicated webs weaved around it, but you wanted to know things, wanted Joel to know that you were interested in his life and all aspects of it. “Do you get her less because of work? I mean, workin’ all those jobs has got to take up a lot of your time.”

Joe chuckles bitterly, “It’s uh—not that simple.”

“I’ve got time,” You offer teasingly, “not like I have anywhere else to be for the rest of the month.”

Joel’s hand eventually finds your neck, thumb rubbing at the tender spot behind your ear. It feels entirely too intimate, his eyes locked on yours as he contemplates how much he wants to share.

He starts small, hesitant.

“I fucked up,” He admits quietly, “Sarah was about four or five, even then custody was split because her mom and I couldn’t get along—”

He hasn’t allowed himself to talk about this since it happened, or soon thereafter.

“I didn’t realize how much I was overworkin’ myself, tryin’ to make some extra money so I could buy her all the stuff she was askin’ for. You know, simple things that little girls like. Just wanted to make sure she was taken care of. Happy.”

Joel is a good father, that much was obvious. You could see it in the way it pained him to retell the story, instantly filled with a regret he could never take back.

“I was drinkin’ a lot back then, though—never on the job, but—” Joel pauses for a minute, eyes searching out, avoiding your gaze as he admits his wrongdoing, “we scored this big job, boss opened up a bottle to celebrate at the end of our shift and I took a couple shots, just a couple—”

His chest shakes as he breathes and you press a firm hand against it, hoping that it may provide some comfort, expression stoic but receptive as he speaks.

“Her mom called right after that, told me she was droppin’ off Sarah ‘cause she had an emergency so I was gettin’ her earlier than I usually do. I felt fine, but I remember feelin’ so tired. I shouldn’t have drove home, shoulda asked Tommy to ride with me. But, I was too damn stubborn and fell asleep at the wheel with Sarah in the backseat.”

You hold your breath, watching the tears form and spill silently.

“‘Course, I caught the only cop in town that night. Found out later he’d been followin’ me for a while and eventually I swerved off and came to when he was bangin’ on my window. I never meant to—I would never hurt Sarah like that. But, I made a shitty choice and even though I felt fine, guess the cop smelt the alcohol and…the rest is kinda obvious.”

You can see him struggling, trying to recount his most heinous moment. Deep regret, sadness that crippled him to near speechlessness.

“Got charged with a few things,” He doesn’t elaborate and maybe that was for the best, “but, they deemed me unfit and her mom was ready to take sole custody. I fought for her—I don’t…I couldn’t have her taken away from me like that.”

You feel the emphatic feeling of sadness transferring to you, absorbing some of that pain as he blinks away a flurry of tears, wiping them away quickly. Your thumb rubs against his temple, soft scar tissue under your fingertip—you don’t ask, but Joel knows.

He pulls your hand away gently, placing it firm against his chest. His heartbeat is steady still, blood pumping beneath your fingertips.

“Things were bad, for a while,” Joel answers vaguely, “not that I can admit they’re great now, but I’m managin’ fine and Sarah is always happy—don’t think I’ve ever seen that girl upset, actually. Just wish I could talk to her more during times like this. Her mom doesn’t make things easy on me.”

You smile comfortingly, “She knows you love her, that’s what matters.”

Joel smiles too, though it’s forced.

“I’m always fuckin’ something up. ‘S why I like to take the time away here, not think about anything. Escape from it all, I guess.”

“I guess we’re pretty similar in that regard,” You tell him, “but all the stuff Joel, it’s in the past. There’s no use beating yourself up over it years later. You got family that loves you, I’m guessing. Sarah’s young and you’ll have so much time to love her, that’s what matters.”

“I think you have a family that cares too.” Joel adds, switching the topic smoothly. “And they gotta love you, can’t see why they wouldn’t.”

You try to ignore how vehemently he says the words, meaning them.

“Sometimes I feel bad,” You admit, “holding so much hatred in toward them.”

Joel knows the feeling, almost stifling his unbridled rage. Maybe he should consider therapy or find a proper way to release that anger, but he’d rather pretend it didn’t exist.

“Wanna see a picture of ‘er?” Joel asks curiously, glancing down at you with curious eyes.

“Of course.” You beam brightly, watching as he fished away in his back pocket for his wallet.

He pulls out a small square photo, worn from years of being stuffed away in his wallet and softened around the edges. He flips the photo in his fingers, offering up the small piece of happiness he carried with him day by day.

“She’s beautiful, Joel.” You tell him, catching the way he smiles assuredly.

“Takes after her mom a little more than me.” Joel admits.

“I dunno—she definitely has your smile.” A pair of matching grins as Joel can’t shy away from the mention, you compare them with a fleeting look, “Oh, for sure.”

Joel plucks the picture away after a moment and shoves his wallet away, returning to his previous position as he cuddled you close on the couch, no words to be shared as you settled comfortably in the silence, enjoying the moment.

“‘M glad you’re here.” Joel tells you, chin nestled against the crown of your head, your face shoved up against his chest.

“Me too.” You mumble against his shirt, arms draped over his midsection as your hand squeezes gently at his shirt, crumpling the material in your hand.

The exhaustion overwhelms you both, falling asleep on the couch like it was the easiest thing in the world. Joel’s touch never leaves and even when you wake in the early morning, light barely peeking over the clouds, he’s still there.

You rouse quietly, removing yourself so as not to wake him and stretch your limbs, shifting your clothes back to their original position and rubbing at the sore spot on your hip from where you had laid all night.

But, there’s a hand sliding up your leg a moment later and you jump at his touch, turning back to look over you shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” You grumble, pushing his hand away gently, to which Joel finds amusing, “I was trying not to wake you.”

“I’ve been up darlin’, was waiting for you.”

And you want to say that the day was exciting, full of plans and things to do, but that just wasn’t the truth. Like usual, it is spent lounging around, feeling empty time with anything—yet now, you don't have to keep your distance.

Sometime in the afternoon, after Joel returns from doing his own things, he seats himself on the middle cushion of the couch you’re sitting on, lifting your feet up in the process as he lays them over his lap, propping his own feet up on the center table in the process.

“Sarah would love this snow,” Joel comments casually, looking out the window briefly, windowsill pillowed in a layer of thick, white fluff that frame the mountains and mountains of unmelted snow outside, “she always drags me outside when it snows so we can build a snowman and when I don’t have her she’s usually forcin’ her mom to do it.”

“Do you want to do it?” You ask curiously, catching a weird expression that crosses Joel’s face.

“Pardon?” He laughs slightly, looking bewildered.

“Joel, I meant building a damn snowman,” You explain, “Not sex.”

“Oh—oh, well…I’m not worried ‘bout it.” Joel tries to hide the fact that he does miss it.

Those small moments of happiness in his life where nothing mattered. Simple stuff.

“I’ll help,” You offer, “We can build a real fancy snowman and take a picture. And you can take full credit, I swear.”

Joel smirks slightly, rubbing tenderly at your ankle, eventually finding himself nodding without realizing.

“Yeah…yeah, let’s do it.”

Joel does more of the heavy lifting, gathering the snow in big, round heaps in according order, slightly smaller as you go until the body is three tiers high, leaving you the job of rounding out the snow—and it feels so childish, something you never had the opportunity to enjoy when you were younger, but you can’t help but find it a little enjoyable. Joel smiles more now, less forced and pinched. He’s got a great one too, when he doesn’t try to stifle it.

He gathers a few rocks for buttons and eyes, some smaller twigs for limbs and other parts.

“I think we can omit the carrot and shove a stick in there,” Joel interjects, which sounds like a ridiculous statement, but given the circumstance, it’s a perfect decision, “or just use one of those rocks?”

You shrug, all said and done as you press the final touch of a rock button nose into the snowman’s face, enjoying the tiny masterpiece. Standing back, you both admired it with a soft, shared laugh.

“This is stupid, ain’t it?” Joel asks.

“I don’t think so,” You tell him honestly, “here—gimme your phone and go stand by it, I’ll take a picture so you can send it to her next time you drive into town.”

Joel hands his phone over without much hesitation and follows your orders, snapping a single picture of him smiling next to the haphazardly built snowman, smiling internally to yourself at how even despite his small smile, his eyes are showing more.

Joel grabs the phone from your hands gently after the fact, examining the picture closely.

Suddenly, stricken with a plan of deviance proportions, you take a small handful of snow in your palm and wait for him to pocket his phone, quickly slipping the cold ice down the front of his shirt and under the thickness of his coat, catching his eyes before you’re running in the opposite direction, the need for payback written all over his face, subtly squaring out his shoulders as he chased after you, grabbing a handful of snow that he slips under your puffer coat and shirt as he wraps his arms around you, the short scream doing nothing to fend him off as you try and fail to grab another handful of snow, feeling the slow trickle of more down your back, realizing that you may have forced yourself into a bad position by allowing Joel to have the upper hand.

You’re quick to wiggle away, but not at the expense of sending you both toppling into a pile of snow, soaking you both with a chilly layer of water.

“Shit—“ Joel hisses, quickly pushing himself off you as he shrugs off the snow, “truce, darlin’. Truce.”

Joel sticks out a hand in offer, helping you off the ground as you shake the snow away, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin.

“Yeah, truce.” You shiver, “Fuck this.”

Joel chuckles, ushering you inside the house.

You strip a few layers as Joel starts a fresh fire, down to his own underwear and plain shirt, huddling for warmth as the fire ignites and catches quickly, growing in strength. Gathering a few pillows and blankets, you toss Joel his own and settle on the floor near the fireplace with him.

“Thanks.” He mumbles quietly, throwing a few crushed up balls of paper before settling beside you, legs outstretched in front of him while you sit cross legged, blanket snug around your shoulders as you rub at your nose, cold still prickling the skin slightly.

“Here,” Joel outstretched his arm and welcomed you within the space, not even a moment of hesitation before you’re scooting to fit into the space beside him, “better?”

You nod, the slow crackle of fire filling the silence. But, it’s short lived.

“So, the other day,” Joel starts slowly, fingers scratching at the rub idly as he tilts his head your way, “you said somethin’—’bout, uh, orgasms—”

You snort softly, “Alright, where’s this going?”

Joel attempts to look coy, hiding the smile that is threatening to cross his face as he squeezes the side of your face with his large palm, “Just wonderin’ how it was—for you, you know.”

“Oh, just wonderin’, huh?” You guide his palm calmly down your neck until it hits your chest, switching to grip his wrist as you guide him to your cunt, hot and wet, his thick fingers getting the message and rubbing a slow circle over your underwear.

Joel shrugs, “Curious.”

His fingers slip inside slowly, mouth hung open as you shift your legs to spread. Normally, you’d have a response. Anything. But, it renders you speechless. His movements are purposeful, watching your face intently as the muscles in his forearm flex, curling his fingers inside you in a motion that has you keeling forward, fingertips digging into the muscle of his arm.

“Look at me,” Joel pleads, blinking your eyes furiously as he moves his fingers to your clit within the same few seconds, the pressure and furiousness of his movements driving you to near madness, “come on, darlin’.” You feel your entire body shiver, craving him immensely. Not just his fingers or his looks, but all of him, consuming you as a whole.

“Fuck me,” You utter suddenly, eyes retching open as you gasp, “—please-—please, Joel.”

Joel nods, pulling his heady touches away with some regret, but then you’re shifting onto your knees and his brain is catching up. You waste no time, shredding yourself of the final layer of clothes, feeling the hot touch of Joel’s palm at your lower back as he suggestively guides you down, face toward the floor as he grabs at your hips sharply, squeezing the flesh under his fingertips, kneading his thumbs into the contours of your skin.

You lean forward, pussy on perfect display as the slickness showcases a soft sheen, his middle finger dragging down the seam of your folds before dipping in quickly, feeling the gentle flex of your hole around his fingers as he moves with a resigned purpose, adding a second, then a third, and you’re embarrassed about the squelch it allows—just how wet Joel could make you within a matter of seconds.

He fists himself from behind you, steady and purposeful strokes as he slides his cock through your slick to aid the glide of his hand, groaning at the way his cock head nearly slips in—if he lacked the self control he would’ve slipped in then, but he liked the tease. The wait. The sounds of your quickly increasing gasps with every gentle nudge.

You try to ignore the burn in your knees from the uncomfortable floor, feeling successful as Joel slips into you with a slow snap of his hips, determined to make you feel him. That the ache would last well into the next morning. And his fingers curl around your shoulder, digging deep into the flesh to handle you right–just how he likes.

“Darlin’, if you could see yourself right now,” Joel murmurs softly, eye lingering on his cock as he pushes inside you at a steady pace, watching the way your cunt sucks him in greedily, over and over and over—”’s perfect, you’re perfect.”

And if there was any person who could make your heart physically ache, it was Joel.

You’ve never felt the intensity of feeling so strongly until this—even from the jump, stand-off in a lonesome cabin in the middle of the woods.

“Tell—tell me about it,” You gasp, attempting and failing to grab his hand to force more point of contact, luckily Joel get’s the idea, “fuck–jus’—keep talking.”

As if his cock impaling you at the rate it was, wasn’t already enough of a distraction, the soft voice in your ear as he hikes you upright, back to his chest as he has a solid grip around the expanse of your throat, gentle pressure applied to make you feel the weight of his hand.

“Yeah,” Joel says redundantly, “god—fit fuckin’ perfectly around me. Like—”

“Like I was made for you?” You tease lightly, earning another gentle squeeze as it causes you to gasp for air slightly, vision starting to blur around the edges with the quick pistoning of Joel’s hips.

“Don’t—go and get ahead of yourself,” Joel remarks, the hand not holding your neck hostage slips from your hip and over your cunt, fingers working away at what his dick couldn’t, two thick middle fingers pressed up against your clit, starting a steady circular motion until he feels the squeeze of your walls around him, “but I’m definitely gonna miss it when I can’t have it no more.”

And it could’ve taken you out of the moment, but it doesn’t.

You come apart with his touch, sweet euphoric blindness dragging you down into a near statue of unconsciousness as Joel squeezes down on your neck and bucks his hips quick, pointed and furious before he’s pulling out abruptly and nudging you forward, hands catching yourself softly as you fall.

“Jus’ like that, darlin’.” Joel coos, “Spread your legs some more, let—fuck, let me see that pussy.”

And you bend more, ass high enough to offer Joel the perfect view, cunt glistening with your slick as he runs a finger through it, your body jolting away from oversensitivity. He comes with a few short grunts, stroking himself through the high of his orgasm as he cums over you, the slow drip of it as it drags down your thighs is enough for you to warrant the idea that it was probably best to shower, aside from the fact the fire had you both a hot, sweating mess.

Joel sighs, exasperated as he falls back on his calves. You rise slowly, wobbly on your feet but Joel’s eyes follow, questioning. You reach for his hand, no words to be shared as you drag him along and into your now shared room, only getting the hint when your hand hits the shower faucet and turns it on, the spray hitting the tile with force.

“You alright?” He questions, noting how distant you looked.

But, it wasn’t for any particular reason than being fucked to a degree you’ve never experienced before—it was all new.

“Fine,” You assure with a subtle nod and smile, “And you?”

Joe leans against the nearest wall, both of you still in a state of vulnerability as his eyes drag toward the ground before back up at you, the smallest of smiles on his face.

“‘M probably gonna be feelin’ that tomorrow, if I’m being honest.” Joel jokes.

“Well—” You cock your head to the side, nodding toward the shower as you reach for his bicep, “let me make it up to you then.”

Joel doesn’t question it, able to read you like a book by now as he sees the mischievous look in your gaze as you drag him under the stream of water, his back catching the brunt of it as you position him how you want before descending to your knees, any pain now a dull ache.

“Oh, darlin’ that’s not—”

You peer up at him menacingly but sweet, hand fisted around his half-hard cock but leaving no room for argument.

“Joel, shut up and let me do this, okay?”

He shakes his head in silent disbelief, chuckling under his breath.

“I’m just sayin’, might take a while.” Joel admits, “Nothin’ wrong with you but—sweetheart, I’m not young anymore—you know what, c’mere.”

Joel grabs your wrist, pulling you off the tile floor.

“Wha—” You attempt to ask, but Joel is stifling it with a needy exchange of lips, drenching you both with the water as he brings you under the spray, only allowing a small breath as you open your mouth before he’s capturing your mouth again—and you’ve been kissed before plenty, had messy exchanges with Joel on a few occasions, but this feels different.

There’s nothing to warrant it, nothing to excuse it. But, neither of you can stop.

“We still got time,” Joel reminds you, feeling the small curve of your lips as you smile, earning a small peck to satiate the urge to lean back in and capture his mouth once more, “alright?

And you did, you knew that.

But, it would never feel like long enough now.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #MMITW #my writing

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skulls-soul · 4 months

Text

Somebody give me Bowser being absolutely, and utterly afraid of falling in love again

Come on people don’t be scared to break hearts

After years of rejection, maybe Bowser is just good at faking confidence? maybe secretly he’s just as insecure as Luigi huuu? Ever thought of that (probably)

Like come on, give me Bowser, having not only a fuck no why him?!? mentality when he finds out that he fell for Luigi but also a ignoring all of these emotions and waiting for them to die, is the best course of action

What do you mean every time he looks at Luigi. There’s a little ember in his eyes?His eyes are red! There’s always an ember to them!!!

Give me moment’s of butterflies and bliss just for there to be a down spiral into panic and doubt. There’s no possible way that Luigi could love me after all of the things that I’ve done to him and his loved ones.

give me a Luigi falling head over heels for the Koopa and trying to figure out whether or not if Bowser likes him

Not only that give me Luigi going to Mario and peach for advice

“ I don’t know what to do. One moment he is complementing my outfit and then the next he’s calling my eyes to blue” (insert what the fuck face here)

Mario and his wife peach had to try really hard to convince Luigi that Bowser does like him, but for some reason he’s not doing anything about it

“ I know what heart struck looks like on bowsers face and he certainly looks at you that way weege”

But It wasn’t until peach mentions bowsers history of rejection in were both Mario brothers were like oooooooh *face slap*

Now, technically by this point Luigi can just ask Bowser onto a date, but that’s too easy, so how about instead Luigi just blatantly flirts with Bowser in hopes that Bowser would be the one to ask him on a date. Both Mario and peach agree to this idea thinking that he just needs a little nudge nudge

Even going as far as to comment on Luigis affection towards the king

Mario: “ you and Luigi made really good partners in this race, besides when he’s with me, peach or Daisy, I’ve never seen him have so much fun”

Peach: “ Luigi speaks very highly of you. It almost reminds me of the time of when he used to talk about Prince Peasley, that way” (this would’ve been one of the nail in the coffin. If it wasn’t for the fact that Bowser was unaware of Luigis crush on The bean Prince)

This just leads everyone to be frustrated because all of the hints and Luigi’s moves are not working the way that they want it to. It wasn’t until Daisy mentioned that Bowser is one of the most stubborn people that they know and “if he has his mind set on some thing a.k.a. not letting his feelings affect him and Luigi’s friendship which he seems to value a lot then he’s probably going to fight tooth and nail to keep it that way”

Mario, peach and Luigi: ooooooh *face slap*

this is in fact 100% true each and every single flirt or comment left Bowser spiraling finding himself laying awake at night thinking about all the wat ifs and the maybes only for him to remember that he had the same thoughts and hopes with peach only for them to shoot him right back at his face with the devastation

Also, give me Bowser trying to separate himself. his feelings for lu is getting so out of hand that he’s starting to imagine that the plumber is flirting with him! what delusion!!! (Smh)

Finally, with help from his best friend, Daisy Luigi, planned on to finally ask Bowser to go out with him romantically

Now, I don’t know about you, but that seems like a good place to insert a happy ending….

Ooooor

I’m just saying! I’m just saying. maybe Bowser does try dating.…. Just other people aka someone that’s not Luigi

Luigi, finding this out is absolutely heartbroken (my poor boy what have I done?) thinking that maybe he waited too long that maybe him and his friends were wrong and that it was just him getting his hopes up because as we all remember, weege is familiar with rejection to

It isn’t until his dear friend Daisy, ever the hothead goes up to Bowser yelling at him for leading her bestie on and going on a date with some scamp

Bowser is absolutely flabbergasted, but also over the moon yet also petrified, because he potentially ruined yet another possible happily ever after. Thankfully, Daisy knows what to do to fix this.

While all this is happening, Luigi unaware of his besties wereabouts is in his room, reading a bunch of sad romance novels that don’t have any happy endings. It isn’t until Luigi stands up to go get himself a snack that Luigi receives a text message from Bowser’s asking if they can meet up.

Luigi internally is flipping out because on one hand, he would love to see his Bowser, but on the other hand, he knows for a fact that Bowser his friend would want to talk about his date, and Luigi doesn’t know if he can handle that right now

But this is a Weege we’re talking about. He loves to be there for his friends and family, even if it would hurt him, so he reluctantly agreed.

Let’s say, Bowser invites Luigi to practice racing with him in where you can immediately tell that there is an awkward tension in the air. Bowser is not to surprised by this, but Luigi is because as far as he knows, Bowser doesn’t know that he has feelings for him. (good Lord Daisy you better hope that Luigi doesn’t get upset at you for outing his emotions.)

They go on a race or two before taking a little break and getting back into the swing of their friendship, when Luigi decides that he would rather rip the bandage off, then painstakingly wait for Bowser’s to open up

Luigi tries his best, not to let his excitement show when Bowser says that him, and his date both agreed that a second one will not be happening. Even so, after hearing those words, lu very quickly made up his mind it might not be what him and Daisy planned, but if he waits any longer then Bowser’s next date might be the one to get to call him their’s a Luigi would rather fail from trying rather than not trying at all

Because the pain of never knowing what could’ve been hurt so much more than Bowser’s potential rejection

“ if you don’t mind, can I recommend someone for you to try a date with?”

“Oh?”

“Ya… you wouldn’t so happen to be interested in a little green plumber would you”?

Bowser’s takes a moment to realize what just happened and it probably would’ve taken him longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Luigi started repeatedly saying sorry backpedaling try to fix what was starting to feel like a mistake (what can I say I’m a sucker for an anxious Angsty mess)

Bowser, surprisingly soft-spoken says yes, causing Luigi to look up at him. Shock is in his eyes before his smile meet them.

“Cool” Luigi would say as he tries to keep his smile on the down low but he can’t help it especially if Bowser‘s tail decides to thump besides him

#luigi #luigi nintendo #bowuigi #bowser #bowigi #bowser x luigi #bowser and luigi #luigi x bowser #bowser nintendo #king koopa #luigi/bowser #bowser/luigi #luigi and bowser #if this idea sparks joy then by all means use it for your creativity #angst/comfort #happy ending #I can’t handle anything that’s just pure angst #And refuses to read anything that doesn’t have a happy ending #listen I read to escape reality and I don’t mind being reminded of it’s cold nature as long as there’s warmth in the end

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theplatypusblue · 4 months

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I’ve been thinking about the similarities and differences between Skybound and Seabound lately, especially in their endings. The strengths/drawbacks of each, plus what each ending says about Nya and Jay’s characters.

In both seasons, Nya and Jay are forced to make really shitty decisions. In Skybound, Jay has to choose between making a wish to save Nya, or making a wish to stop Nadakhan and save Ninjago. However, rather than choosing either of those options, Jay (albeit accidentally) opts for the Secret Third Thing™ — wishing to go back in time so that none of this ever happened lol.

And while you could read this as an instance of Jays character shining through (he cares so much about Nya, he refuses to accept a future without her), I think it’s fair to say that this ending fell flat for a lot of people. It made the entire rest of the season pointless, it felt like a total cop out, you get the idea. These weakness only get more clear when you look at it in comparison with Seabound’s ending.

In Seabound, Nya has to choose between sacrificing herself to save Ninjago, or, I guess, not doing that and watching Ninjago fall. The key difference here is that there’s no Secret Third Thing™ for Nya to fall back on. This idea is made very explicit throughout the season: sometimes there are no good choices, “that’s the way the cookie crumbles” and all that. She resists this notion at first, but ultimately, she makes that hard decision. She makes the choice to sacrifice herself.

Contrast this with Jay, who basically… doesn’t make a choice at all? He just ~follows his heart~ and then… gets to have his cake and eat it too????

And it’s frustrating because there’s something interesting here, right? We get to see the differences between Jay and Nya when it comes to making those kinds of tough choices, and what that says about them as people. Push comes to shove, Nya will do what it takes to protect the world at large. She matures and grows from where she was at the beginning of the season, and the finale reflects that. On the other hand, Jay is the type for guy who will fight tooth and nail until he gets a happy ending. It’s pretty simple-minded, and it’s not something he really gets challenged on in a meaningful way, but it’s an appealing character trait in its own right.

The contrast between these two traits is pretty cool and interesting in my opinion!! Especially when you take into account that it’s Nya’s life on the line in both instances!!!! But then you gotta contend with the fact that Skybound’s ending is kinda…. mid as fuck? And it’s just like??? We were so close yknow soooooo close like this close, but no it’s all weird and stupid now I guess.

So it’s like TLDR: Jay and Nya are super interesting together, but Skybound is so damn weird that it makes the whole thing difficult.

#I kinda fell apart at the end there but hopefully u understand what I mean #ninjago #lego ninjago #nya ninjago #jay ninjago #ninjago skybound #ninjago seabound

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oddlyzephyrous · 5 months

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Powerlessness, Control, and Community on the QSMP

Been in a sort of literary analysis mood lately, so here's a mess of some of my thoughts on the themes of the QSMP main story (and why, regardless of how frustrating we can find some events, i think they ultimately make sense in regards to the story currently being told)

Since the very beginning of the server, the central ideas of the story have been present. First of all, these people are TRAPPED here, by an organization that they know nearly nothing about and that seems to have near-godlike power over their lives and the island. The central conceit of the story of this server is that these people LACK CONTROL over their environment, over where they go, over what they do. ANOTHER ENTITY controls the very fabric of their environment. People are killed, punished, kidnapped, teleported around against their will. They're experimented on. Tortured. Drugged. Their day-to-day lives are their own- but they CAN'T LEAVE. Many of them didn't even choose to be here.

Quesadilla Island is a place of peace at first glance. But look deeper and it's a battlefield, and the participants of this battle are metaphorical giants. They're powerful to a reality-shaping degree. Their motives are obscure, lofty, mysterious. Their plans play with lives like pieces on a chessboard.

The Federation. The Resistance. The Codes. The Watcher and his Workers. Evil Cucurucho. All main-plot powers, with terrifying powers, mysterious origins, obscure plans, warped morality. Even in individual characters' lore, we have entities like this: Madagio, Rose, the Ender King, Bad's "old friends," et c.

Our characters and their children are ants on a battlefield of gods.

There is so much that is out of their control. They're pawns and playthings, there's powers far beyond them, things that they cannot understand. Of course they try and try and fail anyway. If you really want to kill an ant, there's little it can do about it.

But like ants, their greatest strength is community. It's each other. They make each other strong. They stand up to these massive threats as a community. When they gain another small victory, they share the joy. When, inevitably, they suffer another loss, they bear that loss TOGETHER. They all do what they can. They infiltrate, prepare, scheme. They do everything small people can against massive threats. They cannot win with brute strength, they HAVE to use other tactics.

Yes, the victories are small. They're few and far between. But against the insurmountable odds they face? They're miraculous. They're hard fought and won with blood and tears and LOVE.

The losses are massive. People die. They're traumatized. People are irreversibly changed. Of course it is this way. With these odds, in this situation, it's inevitable. But the losses are handled. The burdens are borne with blood and tears and love.

In the end, I think the QSMP is a story of people in a world of impossible odds, trapped and played with by entities that use them like pieces in a game. They're outmatched in every way. The only thing they have is community. They have each other. I think this is meant to be a slow, painful clawing forward for them. Pushing themselves as hard as they can to gain any inch of traction, any crumb of power. Fighting tooth and nail for knowledge, for peace for themselves and their children.

And in the end, I think they'll win. It think they'll make it. Because in the end, it's all about love. And the greatest power our islanders have is love. It'll be a long and bloody fight. There will be loss. But I think they'll make it.

#qsmp #qsmp analysis #oddly posting #qsmp writing #Let me know what you think! I love feedback and discussion.

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drewsbuzzcut · 4 months

Note

please do a part 2 to the angst!!

Warnings: minor angst, mentions anxiety, mentions people making comments, mentions nausea, some frustration from Mat, and I think that’s all

Displeasure rumbles in your stomach, making you feel sick as you pace around Mat’s apartment. You feel empty, though. The lack of kiss or just overall affection from your boyfriend makes you feel incredibly empty.

You fight with yourself, tooth and nail because why is this so hard for you? Why do you feel like you shouldn’t go on about your life just because of the noise strangers will make? In all truthfulness, you don’t care about what people think. You just want this day to be perfect for Mat. It seems like it’s too late for that.

You dial Mat’s number, feeling thankful that he answers your call within the first ring.

“I’m sorry, Mat. I didn’t want you to get any unnecessary heat from me being at the game, but I’m going to go anyway. I love you and I want to support you, especially for this game,” you blurt into the phone, heading downstairs to Liana’s car.

“Y/n, come if you want to or don’t. Like I said, I’m not going to beg you. I want you to be there because you want to be. I have to go, okay?” He says into the phone, acting stoic despite the hurt he feels.

He hangs up before you can muster up the right words to say to him.

Making it to the stadium isn’t a hassle, but walking through all the fans to get to your seat is draining. You listen to their murmurs and keep your head up while ignoring them at the same time. Some fans are nice and offer smiles or hellos, but you can’t avoid the harsh words from the ones who don’t care.

Throughout the game, you stay focused on just the game. You chug back a few beers for confidence and joke around with Liana. She’s amazing at taking your mind off what’s eating away at you.

You cheer when Mat scores, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride for your man. Although you know he’s mad at you, you act as if there’s nothing wrong. Not because you’re ignorant, you’d be naive to think he’s not upset or bothered, but because you know that you’re going to make it up to him.

Once the game is over and all the islander fans trudge down the steps and out of the stadium, you anxiously make your way to the waiting area outside of the locker room. Deciding to get the ball rolling, you walk to him once you see him exit the doors.

He sees you walk over to him, hands fidgeting due to nerves. Your steps are the pace of a snail. His chest heaves from exertion, but it makes your movements falter as he finally gets close enough to you. You go to say something, but he cuts you off by pulling you into him. His lips engulf yours, tongue prodding against your bottom lip for entrance. He inhales your air and you let his mouth take control over yours. Your orange, chrome nails dig into his shoulders, his hands grip your ass over your leather pants. His tongue dominates yours, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a moan as your body melts into his. You forget where you are for a while.

“I’m mad at you,” Mat pulls away and huffs.

“I know,” you whisper breathlessly, a hand pressed to your lips that are still tingly.

“I could barely even focus out there. I am so angry with you, but I was also worried. I didn’t kiss you goodbye. I didn’t tell you that I love you, or that I really wanted you here. Then we had to go fuck this game up. I’m so pissed off right now,” he tries not to shout, but you know he’s on the verge of screaming. The veins on his body start to pop out and he gets red from the neck up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want this day to be bad. I screwed everything up. I’m sorry. I promise I’m going to make things up to you,” you speak and take your time so your voice doesn’t crack.

“I think you should head out with Liana. Maybe you shouldn’t stay with me tonight. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow,” he says, voice strained and eyes trained on you.

You nod your head, blinking your eyes to stop your tears. You didn’t expect him to just out right forgive you, but you didn’t expect him to pull away.

“Okay. I- I’ll see you. Get home safe,” you whisper and take one last look at him.

You’re not even going to try to hug or kiss him. You would break if he pulled away from you.

Mat stands there and watches you walk away. The way your shoulders noticeably move up and down with every heavy breath you take makes him feel nauseous. He’s too angry about every little thing right now, and he didn’t want to end up taking it out on you. At the same time, he wants you in his arms. He wants you to make him feel better because you know how. You always make him feel better.

“Baby, stop. Please. Please. Don’t leave, stay here with me,” he runs up behind you, an arm wrapping around your stomach to pull your back to his chest.

He leans his head against yours, feeling your cool skin and smelling your signature perfume.

You turn around, wrapping an arm around his neck. You gently caress his face, nodding your answer to him. He smiles in relief, pressing his lip to yours. It’s much more gentle this time, but it’s exactly what Mat needs.

#mat barzal #visceral in doses #visceral in doses blurbs

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theblack3stday · 4 months

Text

My Rival — Lily Evans

Pairing: Lily Evans x female reader

Summary: Lily and you are academic rivals.

A/N💌: Hey! This is my first x reader imagine and i’m soooo excited about it. I hope you like it. And a big warning, english is NOT my native language.🫶🏻

Word count: 2420

Warnings: angst (w/ happy ending), bullying, cursing

The sun was setting over the castle, casting a deep reddish-orange glow over the castle grounds, as Lily Evans strolled down the main hallway, alone. Her eyes, still weary from endless hours of studying, were set on her path straight ahead. The cold marble floors echoed with her footsteps. Her eyes narrowed upon seeing a silhouette, and then they widened once she realized the figure belonged to the Slytherin girl she hated. What the hell was here doing in this hallway? She thought. As the girl passed in front of her, Lily couldn't resist a few snide remarks. She rolled her eyes, and barked out "Are you lost? This isn't the Slytherin common room, you know." The girl whirled around, the moonlight illuminating her facial features, with a devilish expression. "I am aware. I was simply passing through." she replied, maintaining a snarky tone.

Lily couldn't help but get worked up from her constant provocations. The girl’s words clearly affected her, even though she didn't admit it. She glared back at her, her face filling with fury. Lily kept her lips pressed together tightly, breathing in and out, and tried to remain calm. "Today, you won.” she hissed, attempting to hide her emotions. The girl’s smile widened, knowing that she had successfully gotten under her skin. “But, just let me tell you, I won't let you look down on me like that. My intellect is just as good as yours, if not better. You won’t win, just because you’re a Slytherin, again." Lily walked away.

You and Lily have been rivals since forever, competing in class to determine who was smarter. You were always one step ahead, always getting higher grades than her, and it always made her feel inferior. She was a muggleborn and she was thinking that it was the reason why you were more successful than her. The arguments always got more intense the more you argued, until you could barely stand to be in the same room without fighting. You were in a constant state of tension, always trying to one-up each other and prove who was better. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor, you two were born to fight with each other. Despite it all, you both felt something deeper, a desire to be together, but your pride and anger prevented you from admitting it.

There you two were again, Potions class and competing over your dead body. The lesson was a simple one, and you were both very confident about your answers. Lily's eyes narrowed as she watched you writing down your answers, always finishing just before her. She refused to let a Slytherin best her again. Her hands trembled as she tried to write down her answer faster, but her hands wouldn't move quickly enough, and she always finished right behind you.

You saw her panicked and you actually enjoyed that. You raised your hand and talked with an annoying voice, knowing she will be frustrated “I’m done, professor.”

Slughorn smiled to you nicely “Well done, Miss Y/l/n! 10 points to Slytherin.”

Lily sighed with disappointment, while you were getting all the compliments by Slytherins.

Today wasn’t your day. You were sure. It had been an awful morning, you thought, a day that couldn't get any worse. After breakfast, you were the victim of a terrible prank by the Marauders, and you were still fuming from the incident. Now, it seemed that the day was bound to continue in that same vein. You sighed, as it was time for Potions class and you knew what that meant: you were competing with Lily Evans again. A constant battle, and a rivalry that refused to die. The two of you always fought tooth and nail, and today was no exception.

Lily was prepared very well for today and your bad luck helped her too. She successfully made the Amortentia.

“Miss Evans, you’re progressing every day more and more. 20 points to Gryffindor.” Slughorn said proudly.

Lily was already gloating, a smug look on her face, as if the universe was on her side. You couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as you realized what Slughorn had just said. Lily had successfully made the Amortentia potion, while you had struggled to create any of the ingredients. Slughorn then announced that she'd earned twenty points for Gryffindor. The rivalry was clearly in Lily's favor today. She'd made all the right choices, and you'd missed every opportunity. You couldn't believe you lost to a Gryffindor. The Marauders thought your misfortune was the funniest thing in the whole world. All five of them were huddled nearby, their faces twisted into mocking grins as they watched the whole scene unfolding. They found it hilarious that you were so unlucky today, and that you could never catch a break. They were waiting for your reaction, your face twisting into anger and disbelief as you realized that you were once again losing to Lily, due in part to their pranks. Their grinning faces was like a nightmare for you. You were full of anger and disappointment. You clenched your fist and narrowed your eyes to try and hold back the rage that was boiling up inside of you. You struggled to contain your jealousy as Lily gloated and took all the glory. The Marauders continued to snicker and smirk, their taunting laughs ringing in your ears like a bell of shame.

Finally, you snapped. You charged towards the Marauders, ignoring all the other students standing around you. You lashed out with a furious yell, releasing all your anger towards them. “Do you think it’s funny?”

"What do you think you're doing?" James asked.

"Shut up!" you shouted angrily.

"Or what?" James sneered.

"Or I'll kick your ass!" you replied, your voice full of venom.

"Is that so?" James taunted.

"Yeah, and it'll put you in your place for good!" you said, getting more furious by the second.

"Y/l/n enough!" Lilly shouted across the hall from where she stood.

"Potter, too," she added, pointing at James with a disapproving look on her face.

You froze in your tracks and looked over at Lily.

James ignored Lily and looked at you “Go on then," he taunted, "put me in my place. I dare you to try."

"Don't worry, I will," you growled.

You rolled your eyes with annoyance as Slughorn approached you.

“Miss Y/L/N and Mr Potter, detention. Come to my room after the classes,” he stated firmly.

“I don’t see any reason for detention. I was merely defending myself,” you said.

However, Slughorn didn’t seem like he was going to give you any leeway this time.

“She’s right, professor. Potter was just messing with her and she just defended herself.” Lily was adamant that Slughorn was wrong in giving you detention. She insisted that since you were only defending yourself, you weren't doing anything wrong. However, Slughorn stood his ground and refused to let you off the hook.

"Detention after class is necessary to ensure that both students understand the consequences of their actions," Slughorn stated firmly. “But… Since Y/n is a very successful and hardworking student i can make an exception just for this time.”

James' face dropped as he heard the news. Potter's smug smile fades from his face and a look of disappointment crosses his eyes.

"Lucky you," James grumbled quietly.

"You're letting her go?" Sirius asks, incredulously.

"Yes, since she's a very successful student, I'm letting her off the hook just this once," Slughorn replied. He gave you a stern look, letting you know that he was serious.

You couldn’t say anything and go back to your seat. Despite your rivalry, Lily was adamant that James was in the wrong and that you were just defending yourself. She even stood up for you in front of Slughorn, something she rarely does since she's usually on his good side. You were surprised, as you didn't think she would ever defend you, but you were pleased that she did. Maybe she wasn’t that bad?

You were sitting outside, reading a book and contemplating Lily's nice attitude from the day before. You're thinking that maybe she isn't so bad after all. You also think of all the other times she's been nice to you, making you realize that despite being rivals, there's actually a lot of respect and admiration between the two of you. You smile as you continue reading, feeling more optimistic about the day ahead. You wanted to talk to her.

A while later, you see the Marauders approaching and your smile quickly disappears. You immediately know that they have their sights set on someone, and it's most likely Snape. Snape has always been their main target of bullying over the years. They laugh and smirk as they approach him, their expressions full of hatred and animosity. You didn’t say anything because you knew that wouldn’t help.

After a minute you heard a familiar voice yelling at them. "Leave him alone,"

She was looking at James with every sign of great dislike.

The argument continued a while. You weren’t that much interested until you hear Snape. "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Lily blinks for a moment at the insult, and her expression freezes, as if she can't believe what he said. "Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

As Lily walks away, she feels a wave of anger wash over her. She can't believe Snape would call her a Mudblood. She stops walking for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. You ran after her, trying to find the redhead everywhere. When you find her, you see her crying.

Lily stops walking, suddenly feeling like her heart is about to explode. The anger and hurt are overwhelming her. She has never been called a Mudblood before, and the shock of the insult is making her feel like she can't breath. Suddenly, the sound of someone coming over to her catches her attention. She turns around and sees you walking towards her...

"Lily," you said. Lily looked at you with watery eyes, her emotions are still raw and unstable. “Not now, Y/l/n.”

You could sense the weight of her distress, the unspoken turmoil beneath the surface. Taking a step closer, you spoke softly, “I understand, Lily. But whenever you’re ready, I’m here for you. We can talk when you feel comfortable.”

She nodded slightly, appreciating your understanding. The place fell into a contemplative silence, allowing Lily the space she needed to navigate through the tumultuous sea of emotions. You two sat down to the floor. You hugged and comforted Lily without hesitation. The feeling of having someone there for her brings her some sense of comfort. Lily could never have imagined falling into this situation and finding solace in your arms, but here she was, in the embrace of your arms. She was filled with conflicting feelings as you hold her in your arms, providing her a sense of comfort. She found herself wanting to stay in this moment forever, the feeling of warmth, safety and acceptance she's experiencing is intoxicating. She had never felt anything like it before and she was not sure if she's ready to let it go.

In the midst of the quietude, you and Lily remained seated on the floor, the atmosphere saturated with an unspoken understanding. Your arms encircled her, a secure haven that provided a comforting refuge.

"Thank you," Lily whispered, her voice carrying the weight of gratitude. She looked at you with eyes that held a mix of vulnerability and appreciation.

You responded with a soft smile. "Anytime, Lily. Take all the time you need."

The serene moment extended, and Lily, with every passing second, felt a sense of acceptance she hadn't known before.

"Sometimes, it's just nice to have someone here, even your rival" you remarked, your voice a gentle murmur, acknowledging the shared solitude.

Lily nodded, the conflicting emotions within her beginning to settle, giving way to a profound tranquility. In this serene interlude, you gently whispered words of comfort, acknowledging the fragility of the moment yet assuring her of your unwavering support.

"Your presence means more than words can express, my rival" Lily admitted, her eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions.

The seconds stretched into minutes, and the air was thick with an unspoken connection. In this intimate space, Lily hesitated to break the enchanting spell, feeling an inexplicable desire to prolong this moment indefinitely.

"This feels... different," Lily confessed, her gaze fixed on a point beyond the room, lost in introspection.

The feeling of warmth, the safety emanating from your embrace, and the acceptance she found in your arms created a heady blend, weaving a tapestry of emotions that she never thought possible.

As the quietude enveloped you both, the desire to stay locked in this tender exchange grew stronger. The pull of the moment transcended the ordinary, cocooning you both in a shared sentiment that words could scarcely capture.

And then, as if an unspoken agreement hung in the air, your eyes met. In that tender gaze, a silent understanding passed between you.

"I... I don't want this moment to end," Lily confessed, her vulnerability laid bare.

You reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Some moments are meant to be cherished, Lils."

"Can I ask you something?" Lily asked, with low and gentle voice. You could feel her breathing close to your body, and her hot breath is tingling just beside their lips.

"Yeah, anything," you responded.

Lily gets even closer to you, her breath hot and soft, barely a whisper of air passing between your bodies.

"What are you doing to me, Y/l/n?," she asked softly.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as she was getting closer and her hot breath was tingling close to your lips. Your muscles tensed and your body leaned towards her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but there was no denying the heat that's building up between you.

"I'm trying not to kiss you," you said softly, your voice trembling with desire. “Fuck it, i can’t!” Your lips covered hers, moving slowly and softly, and sending a surge of heat and sensation through your bodies.

The kiss lingered, a promise of the comfort, warmth, and acceptance that had defined this unique moment.

“I love you, Y/l/n.” she whispered.

“I love you, Evans.”

#lily evans #lily evans x reader #marauders #marauders era #gryffindor #slytherin #rivals to lovers #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #severus snape

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