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#⌜╳ ┊ THERE WERE GIRLS WHO WOULD TEAR YOU APART WITH THEIR LIPS | WORDS
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You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 18
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
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Series Masterlist
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July 30th 2021
Airielle numbly walked around the arena before the show started. She didn’t have a destination, she was just walking, trying to distract herself from thinking about Josh. Because, it wasn’t the fact that she didn’t want to be with him, she did. She was in love with him and if he never asked her to move in with him, they would still be together. 
It wasn’t his fault though, he didn’t know the full story of what went down with Christopher. The thought of living with another man terrified her. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, she felt herself shut down. She remembers stuttering out an excuse to leave his apartment, she remembers the look of confusion on his face as she all but ran out of the door and she remembers the pain in his voice as she told him she didn’t want to be with him anymore. 
Airielle let out a sigh as she looked at her watch. It was 15 minutes to showtime so she decided to get her makeup touched up.As she sat down she noticed Yara, a new backstage announcer and Zelina Vega were sitting in front of her. She was about to speak and say hello but something Zenlina said made her freeze. 
“You’ve been smiling at your phone all day. Is it Josh again?” Airielle’s world stopped. Of course he would move on. She was the one who ended things with him. She zoned out for the rest of their conversation as she was pretty sure she had just lost the best thing that had happened to her. 
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“Hey Airielle. Can I sit here?” Airielle blinked as she was brought out of  her thoughts. She didn’t even remember walking to catering. “Airielle?” She looked up at Raymond and nodded her head. “You alright” he asked her as he sat down.  She blinked again and forced a small smile on her face. 
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She said, 
“”You sure, you look zoned out or something.” 
Airielle was about to be sick. Yara and Josh walked into catering with Josh having an arm thrown around Yara’s shoulders. They were both laughing and Airielle wanted to know what the fuck was so funny.  
She needed to get out of there fast. She abruptly stood from her seat and without saying another word to Raymond she walked out of catering. After making a stop at Hunter’s office, telling him she was too sick to work tonight. She made her way to the locker rooms to find Trin. 
 “Hey baby girl you okay?” Trinity asked as she opened the door to The Bloodline’s locker room. Airielle felt her bottom lip tremble and of course, Trinity noticed. “Airielle what’s wrong.” Trinity asked getting the attention of Jon and Joe and they immediately came to the door to see what was wrong. 
Fuck. Airielle thought as she felt the first tear slide down her face. Jon immediately jumped into big brother mode. “Who the fuck did it!” 
“Guys, I'm fine.” She said but her voice cracked and more tears started falling. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel and probably find an early flight home. I just wanted to tell you so y’all weren’t waiting for me.�� 
She turned to walk away but was stopped by Josh standing right behind her. Should have just sent her a text. 
Josh noticed her tears and cupped her face, making her look at him. “What happened.” 
“Why don’t you ask Yara.” She said, glaring at him while she pushed him away from here. 
“Oop.” Trinity said, pulling Jon and Joe back into the locker room and closing the door.  
“Wait.” Josh chuckled. “You mad at me? For hanging out with Yara?” He scoffed. “I mean i’m single right?” Airielle wiped her tears and nodded her head. 
“You’re absolutely right, you are single. So if you’ll excuse me.” She said shouldering her way past Josh. 
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July 31st 2021
Paul had granted Airielle her two week vacation early and she was beyond grateful. It couldn't have come at a better time. She had just walked out of the gym when her phone pinged with a notification. 
Raymond : Hey, i’m in Pensacola visiting my grandma. You wanna chill or somethin?” 
Airielle bit her lip as she contemplated  his offer. 
To Raymond: sure. Give me a time and place & ill be there. 
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Raymond had decided to take her to a local lounge/bar that she had visited with Jon and Trin multiple times and was very grateful that they were not there tonight. 
“How many times am I gonna let you hustle me?” Airielle laughed as she placed the fifty dollar bill he just handed her into her bag. 
“Lets just call it payback for looking at my ass every time I bent over to hit the ball.” Raymond looked shocked then shrugged with a smile on his face causing Airielle to shove him lightly. “ Thank you for inviting me out tonight. I really needed this.” Raymond shrugged and wrapped his arm around Airielle’s shoulder and started leading her to her car.
“It’s not a  problem Airielle, really. I like hanging out with you.” Airielle smiled and pulled her keys out of her purse. 
“I like hanging out with you too.” Airielle’s eyes widened as Raymond started lowering his head towards her. She was about to push him away but… If Josh was moving on, so could she. 
Raymond let out a groan as their lips met. Airielle wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and deepening the kiss. 
“You know.” A voice called out, startling the two of them. “Here I was feeling bad because you seen me hanging out with Yara.”  It was almost comical how wide Airielle’s eyes were as she turned to face Josh.  
“Josh,” She started. Taking a step towards him but he took a step back and started shaking his head. 
“I’m done Airielle. Whatever games you playin.” He shook his head. “I don’t wanna play anymore. You got it.” Josh sighed as he pushed past Airielle and Raymond and started walking towards the bar. 
“Fuck.” Airielle muttered, before getting in her car and driving away, without saying goodbye to Raymond. 
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Airielle... smh..
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wonbin-truther · 1 day
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too nice haechan x reader - 791 words angst, mentions of drinking and bars, reader fumbles the bag (haechan) again
haechan watches across the bar as you down your 10th shot of some clear liquid that another man had bought for you. he watches as your lips that were once his move against the lips of another man. mark walks up to his side and groans, "dude she's not worth it. i don't even know why she's here." he was right. you lived on the other side of town. a part of him wonder and hoped you were here because you knew he would be too. mark nudged him to get his attention, "how about we go to karaoke." haechan broke his gaze away from your figure, walking out the door with a mans hand in your back-pocket. "sure," he downed the last of his drink. it seemed as if you followed him everywhere making haechan wonder which god he pissed off in a past life. the next time was in the rain. there you sat on the swing of the old playground as the cold pellets hit you, looking down at your feet. hyuck also wonders in that moment what magnetic force is in him as he walks up to you, placing his umbrella over you. the rain hits him and soaks through his sweater but he doesnt care as your eyes looked up and met his. even as the rain beaded down from your hair onto your face he could tell you had been crying. he put his hand out to you and you took it, following him to his house. you sat with your head down as he lifted the wet top over your head, replacing it with a dry out. you let him dry your hair with a towel and lead you too his room. you sat on the edge of his bed and the tears flowed again, "i'm so sorry." he didnt say anything as he gathered a pillow and blanket for himself. "hyuck im so sorry. you're too nice for me," you continued. he paused to look at you before retreating to the couch for the night, "i know". when he woke up the next day you were nothing but a fleeting memory and crumbled up bed sheets at the foot of his bed. he expected a little more from a girl he dated for nearly 4 years, maybe a note or a text. he looked at his phone to no notification. he wondered for a moment if he blocked you again but remembered you remained unblocked after he drunk called you 5 times last month (none of which you answered).
he hated this run around he always did with you. here he was, drunk in your car as you drove to your apartment. he blabbered in the passengers seat about how he missed you and you sat in silence as your eyes were locked on the road. you swore you had mark's number saved. you paced around your living room as haechan was asleep on your couch. you couldn't have him here. nothing good ever came of haechan in your close proximity. you had broken it off with him last summer. you can't place why it happened. when your close friends asked you what happened you shrugged and just replied "the spark burned out". it was a lie. even as he laid on your couch drooling on a pillow, smelling like cheep wiskey and another girls perfume, you felt nothing but pure love. it was something inside you that you could never tell anyone about. a little voice saying he was too good for you. you never deserved him. why would someone like you be with someone like him? you let the little voice win. no matter who you made out with at bars or who walked you up to your doorstep and made sure you got in safe, they would never be lee haechan. you thanked everything when you finally found marks number. he picked up on the second ring. "uhh who is this?" his voice was sleep deprived "hi sorry it's yn. um can you please pick up haechan" "yea give me a second" and he hung up mark lee was just as you had remembered. he had a certain boyish charm you could never quite put your finger on but pulled you towards him. he walked into your house and slung haechan's arm over his shoulder, hoisting him up. "thank you for keeping him safe." "please dont mention he was here in the morning" mark gave you a soft smile as he bid you goodnight and left. he was true to his word and you didn't a text or call from haechan in the morning. the disappointment settled in your gut as you reminded yourself he was too good for you.
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anantaru · 4 months
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hii <3 do you think that dr ratio or argenti would be into eating you out? like argenti just being so sweet abt it, he’s such a cutiee. and dr ratio doing it like he claims you or smth. idkk they could be anything but i’m interested if these two boys would be into thatt. ( ps your writing is so good… i love it sm 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻)
including. dr ratio, argenti
cw. oral (fem! receiving), petnames used: doll, angel, fem! reader
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— ꒰ VERITAS RATIO ꒱ + rough & sloppy
veritas cannot lie to himself but he finds it adorable how you cannot mutter out a single word right now, and the only thing you were still capable of doing was holding your thighs apart so he could fit his head in between and fill your tummy with consistent pleasure.
"you don't want to show me how you feel, doll?" he utters in that unbearably arrogant tone he adored to use on you whenever he proved you wrong as you shake your head, your sticky cream coating his chin, "hmm... well, i'll just force it out of you then, don't you think that's fair?" a refined mewl spills from you when he licks at your folds again, never breaking the eye contact and not caring if you'd end up making a mess of his entire face with your sweet liquids.
and the way his tongue vibrates on your pussy was turning you head over heels for the man, the coarse laps of his tongue full of affection that your toes curl at each lick, and he only gets rougher with proactive drags of his tongue rolling over your hole and collecting everything you give him.
by now, your core has been drenched by a mixture of your slick and his spit, and your legs shake when he kneads the skin on your thighs as to simultaneously comfort you and hold you deep against his greedy face.
one more, just to taste you once more, and you're finally showing him what he does to you, your labored breathing exhaling with the rapid thumping of your heart as your thighs clench around him to ride his face, his enthralling eyes looking more graceful and dark with no mercy reflecting off of them.
you lift yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of the mess on your lower area, watching him closely as the sensation of his mouth made you lose your mind.
your fingers move swift as to reach down and twist into his soft hair, holding him tightly into your cunt when he flips his tongue left and right, his breath hitting your pussy with every exhale— your folds were just so hot, so wet, and squishy that he needs to suckle on them before filling you with his cum later.
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— ꒰ ARGENTI ꒱ + attentive & fast
oh, you sure as hell are starting to see stars when argenti suckles on your folds, with his nose dragging into your cunt the more he forces his head in between your thighs— but you're unable to meet his gaze and it saddens him, despite the fact that it felt so deliciously good, doesn't it?
"argenti.." you moan his name just above a whisper of your labored breathing, your lower lip trembling at how dirty it felt to have him lap around your cunt like a mad man, his hands continuously feeling you up when you arch your back into his mouth.
"yes, angel?" his eyes flicker up with lust, "enjoying yourself for me?"
argenti receives no response, at least not a verbal one, instead you hum dazedly as your eyes flutter shut when his nose rolls between the flesh that protected the little pearl on your cunt, your swollen pussy aching to feel more of the friction it so desperately desires.
"such a good girl," he groans into your pussy, lowering one hand from your thigh to your hole as he gently pushes into it before curling deep to scissor your cunt. fuck, argenti simply cannot tear his eyes off you.
you're just so impossibly perfect to him, and he treats you like an ancient treasure whenever he received the gift of going down on you.
you repeatedly whisper his name imbedded in praises as you left it to your crumbling voice to find his ears— and argenti wasn't sure on who, out of the two of you, would break under the pressure first.
because listen closely now, your pussy was like none he has ever tasted before and he hopes you know it by the way he circles the tip of his pink muscle so precisely into you.
you turned him achingly hard, his tongue pressing upwards and back only to lap slightly faster, ugh, he swears that every time you chant his name or tremble your legs around his head he can feel his cock throb in his pants, pushing harder and harder against his boxers.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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unwantedtomost · 10 months
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so dirty — miguel o’hara
dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader
word count: 888
summary: miguel, who just so happens to be your dad’s best friend, fucks you in a bthroom
warnings: dirty talk, degradation, unprotected sex (i’m back to my old ways)
a/n: hehe two in like a day? look at me go. send me requests because i need more ideas.
“We shouldn’t do this,” came out of your voice in a tired tone. You tried to fight it but it got harder every time. How could you fight something that felt so right?
“I know, amor.”
Then he kissed you and you stopped fighting. 
Things got dirtier every time he touched you. The first time he kissed you he was so soft, so delicate. He touched you like he thought you could fall apart in his hands. Now he was bending you over the bathroom sink with the whole neighborhood in the backyard—not to mention your father, his best friend. He still loved you all the same, you never doubted it for a moment. Something about the switch felt right. This was a dirty little secret, not a Romeo and Juliet love affair. It was meant to be dirty.
He used to kiss every inch of your naked body, muttering how much he loved you every time his lips left your skin. It was a harsh comparison to how he shoved your panties to the side and rubbed his rough fingers up and down your slit.
“You’re soaking,” he stated with pride. “This all for me, honey?”
“‘Course it is, Miguel.” Sometimes you try to be soft in times like this. He’d give you a small smile then it would leave. His eyes were hungry, you almost felt like prey.
“‘Course it is,” he repeated before bending you forward.
He spit on his hand, pumping himself a few times. He rubbed the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to shutter. So dirty.
“Beg for it.” Your brows knitted together, giving him a confused look in the mirror. “You heard me. Beg for it.”
“Give it to me,” you demanded, standing your ground.
His large chest was flush against your back, his chin grabbing your chin and making you look into his eyes. His lips brushed against your ear and his other hand gripped your hip like a vice. “I said beg. Or we’re going back downstairs right now.”
It wasn’t the worst threat in the world but at some point these little hookups became something you needed. He knew that. He felt the same way too.
“Please, Miguel,” you whined. “I love you so much. Need to feel ya inside me so badly. I promise to be such a good girl. I promise. I’ll be such a good girl.”
The tiniest smile came to his lips as he saw the tears lightly brewing in your eyes. God, how he loved you. He planted a sweet kiss on your temple. “Such a good girl, only for me, yeah?”
“Only for you.”
Suddenly, the head of his member entered your entrance. You gasped, causing his hand to clasp over your mouth. “Got to be quiet, amor, yeah? We can’t have anyone find out what a dirty little whore you are for me.” He quickly pushed the rest of his length inside of you. You screamed into the palm of his hand, gripping down on the countertop.
“Fuck, princess. Best damn pussy I’ve ever had. Such a good fucking girl.”
His thrusts were brutal and you loved every second of it. Something about the strange circumstances made something dormant in Miguel come out. He said the dirtiest things. His mouth sputtering whatever came to mind as he pounded into you like both of your lives depended on it.
“Letting me fuck you while half the neighborhood is in the backyard. You wanted me that bad. You’d let me fuck you anywhere, wouldn’t you, honey? Want to be my little fuckdoll. Let me take you wherever I want. As long as we don’t get caught, right?”
You nodded vigorously as your eyes screwed shut, your head resting on Miguel’s shoulder. He let you stay like that for a while until his fingers started to rub your clit.
“Look at me,” he cooed. You had no choice but to pry your eyes open and look at the disheveled state of the man you were falling in love with. “Keep looking at me when I make you cum on my dick. Look so fucking beautiful.”
You had to use your last amount of strength to keep your eyes open, losing all control of the noises coming out of your mouth. Both of you were glad that his hand was clamped over your mouth. You tried to hold back your orgasm just a little bit, something you did often in these scenarios, you wanted to hold on just a little bit longer.
But it was always impossible. As soon as he figured out what you were doing, his fingers worked quicker.
“Please, cum for me baby,” he begged. And how could you refuse him? Quickly the coil snapped and you turned to absolute putty in his hands. “I love you, honey. I love you so much.” He whispered in your ear as he came inside of you. “Love you so fucking much.”
Slumped there, panting, you had that terrible wave of realization of the predicament you were in. Doomed to be in love with a man you could never really be with. Banished to a life of dirty secret hookups in bathrooms. But you didn’t need to worry about that now. Not when he was smiling at you.
“I love you too.” 
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flrlgreen · 3 months
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jealousy, jealousy (toji fushiguro x reader) + twt prn link
a/n: thank you for the support on my last two posts! i appreciate it so much! here’s some filthy toji action tho. i apologize again for any mistakes i'm always tired.
MINORS DNI
content warnings:  age gap, sex toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, name-calling, recording, use of the names slut, whore, princess, and baby girl, possessiveness, size kink, teasing.
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link
Having a much older boyfriend wasn’t for the faint of heart. Being a sophomore in college and dating a man who was in his late 30s proved to be challenging at times. Although he took care of your every single need and made sure you never went without. There were times when you couldn’t stand him. 
He knew that dating a young woman in college would be hard. After all, you know what they say about college life. Toji was a possessive man and would do anything to show that you were his. Never mind the age gap between you two. When he found out that Gojo Satoru, a classmate that you were supposed to work on a project with, had asked you out it took every ounce of his being not to tear that man apart. 
It didn’t help that you kept telling him that it didn’t mean anything and that his constant possessive behavior made you want to break up. It just ignited something in him. 
Right now your boyfriend was towering over your smaller frame. It made you rub your thighs together. “So, you wanna break up do you?” He said in a low register. All you could get out was a meek ‘yes’. He laughed when he heard your response and his thumb found your chin. He forced your gaze to meet his.
It felt like he was burning holes in you with his eyes. You couldn’t even manage to make eye contact. “Look at me Doll.” A small tinge of anger was laced with his words. “No.” You knew he wouldn’t like your reply, but getting him frustrated was a part of the fun. “No?” He says and before you could even process what he had said he grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder. 
“Toji! Put me down!” You banged your fists on his broad and strong back and it didn’t phase him one bit. He threw your smaller body on the bed and flipped you over. He wasted no time getting on top of you. You felt his hard cock on your ass. “I’m gonna give you one more chance to change that attitude.” He leans in and says next to your ear. “Fuck off.” You spit. Toji’s hand finds your ass and gives it a harsh pinch. “Stay right here, and don’t fucking move.” 
At this point, you’re leaking, and despite wanting to get under Toji’s skin for irritating you, you know better than to move. You feel his body leave the bed and you hear some shuffling before he climbs back into bed and gets behind you. You look up and into the mirror in front of you. “Arch, now.” He demands and you oblige. “Good girl.” He smiles and grabs the dildo he had in hand. You watch as he reaches over your arched body and suctions the dildo to the mirror. “Suck it now.” “R-right now?” You stutter. “Did I stutter, Sweetie?” 
Your lips press against the tip of the dildo and Toji watches as he palms himself with one hand and holds your phone in the other. “Don’t be shy now Princess. Show the camera how well you can suck cock.” Knowing you were on camera made you feel like jelly. 
Your tongue swirls around the soft tip of the sex toy before you begin to move your mouth down the toy inch by inch. As every inch slides down your throat, slurping sounds fill the room as you struggle to take the thick length. “Poor Princess, I know you can take more. You take my huge cock every night.” He teases and rubs your ass, still recording. 
Your throat relaxes around the inches before you take the remaining inches down your warm throat. “That’s a good girl.” Toji groans while pulling his boxers down. You make eye contact with your boyfriend in the mirror while you gag and choke on the fake cock. “Show Gojo how well you can suck cock.” That’s when you realize. Toji is recording this to send to him. The thought alone makes you want to pass out in embarrassment but also makes you hot.
 
Knowing this was going to your flirty classmate, you had to put on a show. You bob your head up and down the length while looking directly into the phone’s camera. Drool ran down your chin and fell onto the bed sheets. Your throat bulged and your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time you went down to the base. “So good at choking on cock. What a slut.” Your boyfriend mutters and pulls your skirt and panties down in one tug. 
“Take it all, and stay there.” Toji uses his free hand to give his thick cock a few experimental pumps before lining it up with your dripping cunt. He shifts the focus of the camera down to where you two are about to be connected. “So fucking wet, all for me. No one else.” He hisses and shoves his entire cock in all at the same time. “God damn,” He groans. No words can escape your mouth that don’t sound muffled.
The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim with Toji’s cock was otherworldly. You cry around the sex toy that’s stuffed down your throat while Toji starts moving. His brutal thrusts make your lower half flash with pleasure every time he hits that sweet spot inside you. “My baby has the tightest little pussy, doesn’t she?” He says all while not slowing down one bit. “Oh wait, your mouth is full isn’t it?” He laughs. “Only I can make you feel this good.” His tone was so deep and laced with so much jealousy like you had never heard before.
The gagging and smacking sounds continued and it was all becoming too much. Toji would occasionally angle the camera downwards so Gojo could of course get a full view of his assault on your pussy, and make direct eye contact with you in the mirror while he made you gag and cry. 
He noticed your body was beginning to show signs of giving out. “Aw, baby. Is it too much?” You nodded with your throat full. “You wanna cum don’t you Princess?” A muffled ‘yes’ was all that came out of your mouth while his tip kissed your cervix with each deep thrust. “God, I’m gonna cum to. Cum for me whore.” That was all you needed. Your knees shook and gave out while your orgasm washed over you and your boyfriend’s thrusts became sloppier. The now-soaking toy slipped from your throat as you melted into the bed. 
“Fuck, I came so fucking much,” Toji says and pans the camera down to the mess he made all over your pussy and ends the video.
Send.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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girl i am BEGGING you to write a hotch story with his beard and reader doesnt know he has it because he never told her and when he comes back shes more in love with him!!! you can take it any direction you want
off guard
hehehe 🤭 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, heavy suggestiveness, fluff and bearded aaron 😵‍💫<3
after what felt like forever, came the long awaited knock on the door.
"finally." you breathed out as you threw the door open, immediately tucking yourself into aaron's chest and wrapping your arms around his middle.
the longer he was in your hold, the more you tightened your arms - as if you would blink and he'd be right back in pakistan, miles and miles away from you yet again.
it was late, or early depending on how you looked at it. the moment you received the message aaron was back in the states - prematurely and under urgent circumstances - you had insisted the second he had wrapped up, no matter the time, to come directly and strictly to your apartment.
lucky for you, he had already planned on doing so regardless.
"god i missed you." aaron sighed out in relief just as much as you, the empty void in his heart filling at last, making him feel whole again.
he had spent countless nights fantasizing of you being in his arms, the feeling near and distant simultaneously, as if he could reach out and grasp it. for the first month overseas, he had difficulty sleeping even, so used to sleeping beside you - the familiar weight of you laid on him, matching his breathing to yours, or the fact you were simply near.
the longing for you had been torturous. and at last here you were, right where you belonged.
"i almost can't believe it," you mumbled into his t-shirt, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "five months was too long. too, too long."
you loosened your hold, just enough to peer up at him, just now getting a look at him. however, you found yourself taken aback, any eased, impending cries halting at once.
it was your aaron - your loving, wonderful aaron - staring back at you, but it didn't look like him.
his hair was longer, his body a bit more lean, but the major difference; a beard graced his face.
you've seen aaron with some stubble - not shaving during a weekend off, or his occasional five-o-clock shadow. but that was the result of a mere few days. this was months in the making, and it wasn't unwelcome in the slightest.
endless words could describe the sight before you, but your mind and mouth had run both dry. it was hot, to put it bluntly.
"jack hates it too." aaron admitted as his hands fell to your waist - not daring to part contact, mistaking your hesitancy for dislike. "i was going to shave it, but you did say to come right over-"
"hey- no." you blurted out, blinking up at him. "who said i hated it?"
his eyebrows furrowed, surprised. "you don't?"
"absolutely not," you insisted, looking almost offended at the proposition. you touched his cheek, feeling the coarse hair under your soft fingertips and igniting something deep within you. "quite the opposite, actually."
"really?" a pleased smirk formed on his face, his eyes darkly intrigued and amused.
"just when i thought you couldn't get more attractive." you smirked right back, toying with his shirt. "trust me, i like it more than you know."
aaron's fingers dug into your hips, backing you into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind with his foot.
"please tell me you have tomorrow off, because you won't be stepping outside this apartment if i can help it." you pleaded, your voice coming out as an eager whine.
"well, the team is to be evaluated by the senate committee, hearing date pending. so for the foreseeable future," aaron bit down on his bottom lip lightly, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm all yours."
"good. mainly because i missed you, but that," you eyed his beard again, a heavy breath escaping you. the ends of your lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, and aaron's lips found yours hungrily. as he frantically continued to back you towards the direction of your bedroom, you mumbled into his lips. "we can have fun with that."
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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Simple Math / Part 8
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut. Graphic domestic violence, physical abuse, choking. Non consensual kissing. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Drowning metaphors. Strong feelings of self loathing, despair, fear, anxiety. Suicidal ideation. Crying. Panic attacks. Bun is unraveling. Comfort. Protective Simon and Johnny. Things are happening.
The girl in the mirror hates you.
It’s easy to tell, by the way she stares, how her eyes glow in the yellow fluorescents of the staff bathroom.
You make her sick.
Your weakness, your stupidity, has cost her, again. As if it hasn’t cost her enough at this point, as if it hasn’t drained her dry over and over until she thought she would die.
Until she thought she wanted to die. 
Someone knocks on the bathroom door.
“Occupied.” You snap, and they huff, turning away to go who knows where.
You peek back over to the girl in the mirror. She still stares at you in disdain, but now it’s more expectant, more… intrigued, like she’s asking, well… what are you going to do?
“What are you going to do, sugar?” Phillip’s hands tighten around your neck, white teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun of your apartment. The sound of your windpipe being crushed echoes inside your eardrums, and you flail uselessly, struggling, kicking and hissing and crying to no avail. “Where are you going to run next?” Black spiderweb strings along the outside of your vision, and your palm slaps against his forearm, a pathetic endeavor, as always.
He’s too strong. Too determined. 
You’re an ant. He’s a shoe. 
You’re an early high school grad, on an academic scholarship at school your mom couldn’t afford, and he’s the charismatic grandson of a Texan oil tycoon, the son of a judge, living in a fancy house without roommates in the city.
You want to be a doctor. He wants a housewife. 
You want to be a mother; he promises to beat them out of you. 
You want a life in the sun. He wants to become a shadow himself. 
“Phillip.” You wheeze, air snaking through your teeth. He lowers his ear, like he can’t hear you, a mocking bow that you know he relishes. 
“What’s that?” 
“Can’t- breathe-“ The sigh that answers you is what you imagine a disappointed father sounds like, followed by a tsk, an over developed dramatic show that you’ve come to know so well, and he throws you to the ground in one motion, shoulder smacking against the hard wood floor. 
There’s a tear of muscle. An immediate soreness. Stars dance in your vision. 
“Gotta hand it to you, princess. You were hard to find this time.” 
You don’t have an answer for the girl in mirror.
Even with the turtleneck and the very good makeup, it’s bad. There is no doubt, someone will notice.
And then there will be questions. Nonstop questions, personal questions, private questions. Questions from your boss and an HR rep behind a closed door somewhere, invasive, mandated reporting, logical questions that you must have answers for.
You chew your lip.
It’s not so obvious, maybe, with the turtleneck. The long sleeve under your scrub top covers the tender flesh on your neck, your shoulder, your forearm. It’s second nature, how easily you hide, how perfectly they tuck away, little stories beaten into your skin for no one else but you to feel.
Except for your orbital and cheek bones. 
These are blatant. The ball cap pulled down over most of your face hid them well enough on your way in but now... inflamed, angry skin swells beneath your eye, and while it looks okay, you guess, when you get close, it’s obvious that something is wrong. The foundation and failed attempt at contour can only do so much.
It’s shocking to realize you’re actually mad at him for it.
For being so impulsive.
So sloppy.
But then again, wasn’t that your fault? 
You’re bold. Bolder than ever before. Closer to the top of your breaking point now, angry and beaten down and dying in the black of a bottomless pit. Unable to escape. Unable to climb out. 
You’ve been falling inside it for years, and it’s all you ever do. 
Fall. 
And you’re so, so tired. All you want, is for it to end. 
“That was sick, even for you, Phillip. What are you, some kind of freak? Jerking off all over your ex girlfriend’s-“ The backhand is swift. It rockets across your face, combination of it’s force and the sting making your head spin, and you stumble. 
When you lurch, he presses close, chest to your side, strong fingers digging into your forearm so tight it hurts. 
“Don’t say that.” His lips drag across your cheek, insult to injury where he struck you. They press together in a kiss, a foul, rancid piece of affection, making your stomach turn.“You know I don’t when you call yourself that. I don’t like when you lie, sweet thing. It’s not very nice.”
“It’s not a lie, you Texarkana hillbilly fuck, it’s the tru-“ You’re up against the wall in a single movement, arm twisted so hard you cry out, and he shoves you into place until he’s got you where he likes, face to face, nose to nose. 
“There’s my spitfire. Knew she was in there somewhere.” The nickname almost makes your retch. It’s a flicker of a memory, of yourself before the grave of your now life, the fateful twist that is Phillip Graves. 
“I hate you.” You spit. His eye twitches, and he looks every bit the insane man you know him to be. 
Because this... this is Phillip having fun. This is Phillip playing with his food. Phillip and his toy. 
This is not Phillip’s crazed rage. This is not suit and tie Phillip, rip your hair out from the roots Phillip, beat you until you’re unrecognizable Phillip. 
This isn’t the Phillip who slaughters innocent people. Who murders entire towns for pleasure. 
For a very short moment, your mind drifts to Simon and Johnny. You wonder what they’re doing right now, if they’ve already had their lunch, if Penny visited today. If maybe she napped with her Da safe and snuggled, sweet and asleep dreaming of sugar plums. You think about the light in Johnny’s eyes from last night, the way he looked at his daughter, and Simon, and even you. You remember the press of Simon’s mask covered lips on your forehead, a sweet, comforting piece of affection that you’ve already locked inside your heart. 
You float there. In those feelings, those memories. 
You wish they were here. You wish they could help you. 
The acknowledgement is terrifying. It happens so fast, hardly a second, but in that time, horror shivers down your spine. 
You’d put them in danger, for yourself. Your selfish, stupid self. 
Phillip’s mouth hovers over yours, and you swallow the gag rising in your throat. 
“I can’t stay.” He whispers, pseudo-gentle kisses adorning your nose, your cheek again. “It’s really rotten luck, honestly, you showing back up here today. I was just saying my see you laters.” You’re not religious, but the thoughts come easily regardless. Oh god, thank god. Thank fucking god. You have a chance.“I know you’ll be here when I get back, won’t you? I’m tired of chasing you around the world, sugar.” He gives you another wet, closed lip kiss, and your jaw trembles. “If you’re not, it’ll be that much worse for ya.”
You can do this.
It’s not anything you haven’t done before.
Deep breath. You can do this. 
Stepping outside the bathroom is like taking your first steps as a child. You’re slow, pushing through the burn in your side, the sore agony in your shoulder, the torn cartilage you’re sure is the cause the of the pain in your shoulder.
You can do this. 
Get it together. Get yourself together. You’re not going far. 
You make it down the hall without running into anyone, and once you reach the on-call room, you’re breathing long sighs of relief, sliding the lock into place after the door shuts behind your back.
Two black duffels sit on the floor, staring at you. Mocking you, just like the girl in the mirror.
What are you going to do? 
The receptionist is calling your name. 
You ignore her, trying to make it to the elevators, almost breaking into a run even though you’re in pain, your face throbbing, neck sore beyond belief. 
“Sorry, can you-“ Intercepted on your path, she gasps. “Oh my god, what happened?” 
“I was mugged.” It’s a point-blank response, even though you sound like a frog or a piece of roadkill, and it brokers no argument. You look at her with the flattest gaze imaginable, dissuading her from saying anything else. 
“I- I’m sorry. We’ve been trying to call you.” The hair on the back of your neck rises.
“For what?” 
“We need your room. There’s been a block reserved, and it includes the floor you're on. I'm... sorry.” You’re not able to contain your shock, mouth dropping open, heart cracking into tiny pieces. 
On top of everything. Now this. 
The receptionist peeks at you nervously, waiting on pins and needles for a response. 
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m afraid. I’m so sorry. The hotel apologizes, the block is paying for a higher rate and-“ 
“It’s fine, really. I needed to check out anyway.” You know it’s not her fault. Hell, you’d be surprised if it wasn’t the hotel’s fault either. It’s not like Phillip wouldn’t move heaven and earth to force you out of hiding. He's more than capable of finding out where you’re staying. 
She gives you another apologetic look before scurrying away, and the elevator doors finally enclose around you, a tidal wave of despair swelling in your heart, dropping you to your knees with gut wrenching sobs.
You’re crying again. Curled up in the on-call bed, your shoulders shake in hysteria, tears and panic overwhelming everything you have left, swallowing you until you can’t see the surface anymore.
Your throat burns. Breathing is like rubbing sandpaper down the back of your tongue, and you wheeze when you try to take deep breaths, shoulder shrieking in misery every time you shift.
You have to get it together. You have to work in an hour. 
But you can’t. You dig deep and try, desperately working to pull something forward, something sane and controlled, but there’s nothing to be found, only acid in your throat. The hysteria mounts. It catches the wind and flies down the hill, crashing into you over and over until your hands are clenched together so tight, even they hurt.
You fucking idiot. You waited too long. You ran out of time. 
You’re dead. 
“Oh my god.” Nia covers her mouth, eyes wide. You hold up a palm.
“It looks way worse than it actually is.” Another nurse peeks around her shoulder, and gasps.
“What happened to you?”
“I was mugged yesterday, getting off the train.”
“Oh my god!”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“Yes, I did.” You assuage them to the best of your ability, reassuring their worry. “I filed a report, and they didn’t get anything important. I’m okay. Really.” And then the kicker: “I would tell you if I wasn’t.” You glance at everyone, four or five now, gathered around, and lay on the final piece of the puzzle. False familiarity and the ever present desire to be relevant. “Wouldn’t I, Nia?” You gesture around to expectant faces as if to say, tell them, and she readily agrees.
“Yeah, she totally would.”
Everyone pretty much leaves you alone after that. Patients need checks, meds, all of the usual stuff. You assure Nia once more in private, promising that you’re okay, and she reluctantly leaves you alone too, once you swear up and down.
The only thing that doesn’t leave you alone, is your cellphone.
>Hey, just wanted to check in, see how your day off was yesterday? 
>Bunny :)
There are a few others, alternating like above, Simon first, then Johnny. Asking if you got some rest, if you’re okay, and then a promise not to push.
You ignore them.
You ignore the feeling in your chest at the sight of their incoming text messages, the proof of their care.
You ignore the way it feels to know they’re only a floor below you.
You ignore the fact that when you got here today, all you wanted to do was run to Johnny’s room and settle in that chair next to his bed, curl up close to them, where there’s love, where there’s warmth. 
You ignore it at all.
Get it together. You have a job to do. 
Simon appears at the pit three hours into your shift. There’s no one around, everyone trying to take breaks, cover breaks, or deal with whatever emergency is happening in the moment, except you.
And when you round the corner and spot him, waiting, it takes your breath away.
Half of your reaction is pure fear. The last thing you want is for him to see you like this. Beaten. Broken. Ugly.  
The other half is… something pure. Something enamored. He came up here, why? Is he worried because you didn’t answer? Do they care? 
Still-
You start to turn on your heel, eyes flipping wide and panic startling your heart. You’re barely a shadow, a clip of a person on the other end of the hall and yet-
“Hey, there you are.”
Fuck. The acid starts to rise all over again. You keep your face tilted down towards the floor.
Maybe you can pretend you don’t hear him. You leap back around the corner, practically running towards the on-call room, where your life sits in two black bags, waiting.
You can’t do this. You can’t face them, let them see. 
Something desperate gnaws in the pit of your soul, a howl that begs you to turn back and let him in, let them both in, tell them everything.
It’s selfish, and cruel.
It’s unfair.
He calls your name. You still don’t answer. Your scrub pants swish together as you jog, trying to get away, but the effort is in vain. He’s too quick, long strides overtaking yours at a brisk walk, and just before you reach the door, he positions his body in front of the handle, an immovable wall.
There’s a long moment of silence. You stare up into his face, wide eyed, horrified.
You know what he’s seeing. A failure. A moron. A mess. 
To his credit, his expression does not change. His brow does not furrow. He only stares at you, frozen, slow thawing fury finally glowing in his eyes after a centuries’ long minute.
He reaches, time standing still, the back of his fingers stroking the lightest touch against your tender cheek, and his voice is almost unrecognizable behind the mask when he snarls,
“Who did this to you?”
The tears come in a flood. You don’t understand why the breakdown comes in this moment, why everything crashes into a million little pieces, until you feel a strong, careful arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a broad, warm chest, face tenderly nestled into a black hoodie. It feels… safe. Like a home you haven’t had in a long, long time. Like something you never thought you’d feel again.
Maybe it’s a moment of weakness. Maybe it’s your downfall, another thing for the girl in the mirror to be angry with you about, you’re not sure. You’re not sure about anything except this feeling, this feeling that lights up your heart in an explosion of fireworks, fear and panic and anxiety soothing into sadness, into a homesick feeling for a love, a life you’ve never had.
Maybe it’s a moment of weakness, when you sob his name, when you go limp against him and he holds you steady, a cheek atop your head, soft words washing over you in a whisper.
Maybe it’s a moment of weakness, but right now, you can’t seem to care.
Johnny is distraught.
Simon brings you into his room, still tucked into his side. He’s careful with you, telegraphing all his movements, letting you know where he’s going, reverence rich in his touch like he’s handling glass.
“What in the-“
“Bun says she was mugged.” Simon tells him, and you miss whatever is happening over your bowed head, hands shaking with nerves all over again. “She assures me she’s not hurt but-“
“I’m fine.” You croak, and Johnny jerks, mouth half open in disbelief. The light is dim, casting short shadow across his face, his sweet eyes drenched in worry, and you stand at the foot of his bed, tears waiting on your waterline. “I’m okay, they didn’t really get anything, and I-“
“Come here.” He cuts you off, raising both arms, extending them as wide as he can manage, scooting his hips to the side. It’s a feat, but he hides the grimace of pain well. When you don't budge, he repeats himself, firmly the second time. “Bunny. Come here.”
The shame burns, entrenched in you so deep, you know you’ll never be able to cut it out, and your tears fall unbidden, encouraged by the hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach, your heart, an ache that you need soothed so desperately.
You’re out of control. You’re losing your grip. 
You had a moment of weakness but this… this is too much. 
“Please, pretty girl.” He whispers, reaching you where no one else can. Speaking to you through the fog of your doubt, your hatred, your fear.
Your hands shake as you reach for his, and when you sit beside him, hip to thigh, he looks at you like he’s staring at someone other than the person who used to be his nurse. He’s looking at you the way you catch him looking at Simon sometimes. Bright gaze full of love. Of worry.
“I’m okay.”
“No, ye’re not.” He shakes his head. “Ye’re not. This is not okay.” The way he says it feels like he knows, like he understands, and you swallow dry, breathing ragged and shallow. It turns frantic, and he squeezes your knee gently, redirecting your attention. “Hey, shhh. It’s okay. Ye’re safe with us.” Simon sits on the arm of the chair, directly next to the bed.
“Do you need to count your breaths?” He cuts directly to the quick. Will this provide you relief? Will this stop the pain? The agony? 
No. 
“N-no.” You gasp.
“Okay. Just try to breathe, everything’s alright."
I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just this- this happened and then I found out I had to find a new place to stay, and I st-still haven’t, so I have to sleep in the on call room, and I don’t-“
“Whoa, okay. Slow down.” Simon soothes, hand slowly sliding up and down your spine. You relax into it, marginally, clocking the subtle upward tick of Johnny’s lips, firm line shifting into a small smile, and then turning cross. 
“What do ye mean, ye dinnae have a place to stay?”
“My apartment-“ is trashed. Is a scene of a crime. Is a hollow rib cage housing a dead heart. “is being renovated so I’ve been living in a hotel,” Johnny nods, like he knows. Of course he does. What secrets do they have between? Probably none. “But someone reserved a whole block and there’s no vacancies, so I had to check out this morning.” It’s pathetic, the way you’re crying over this, the way you feel, but it’s all so forlorn in this moment, and you can't stop yourself from falling deeper and deeper into a well of despair, hopelessness dragging you to the bottom, trying to drown you. “It’s not a big deal but-“
“It is a big deal.” Johnny declares. “Ye had somethin’ horrible happen to ye, and now this on top of it?” Simon shifts, flat palm and fingers pushing down through the air, and you barely catch it from the corner of the eye. It’s the same kind of sign you give someone when you want them to slow down, and you blink.
What’re you doing?  
“I… I’m fine.” You wince at the croak in your voice, last menthol infused cough drop wearing off, bringing back the raw pain in your windpipe, the gravel grit of bruising in your voice.
“It’s okay to be upset, bun. Anyone would be.” You wipe your face, chasing away the tracks of tears and trying not to wince when you straighten your back.
“I know, but I’m okay. Really.”
“Ye cannae stay in an on-call room.” What?
“Oh… it’s fine. It,” wouldn’t be the first time. “It’s not a big deal.” Simon is watching you, focused with that same blazing intensity that feels like he’s digging around inside your skull. 
“Why don’t you stay with us?”
“What?” You blurt. “No. No, I… I couldn’t. It’s not-“
“Appropriate?” Simon finishes, head cocked. “Johnny isn’t your patient anymore.”
“And we have plenty o’ room. Penny’s still staying with Price’s a lot, because Simon’s here all the time, so it’d be nice and quiet for ye.” Say no. Tell them no.
“I couldn’t. It’s… you hardly know me. You’d invite me to live in your house?” Incredulously, you stare at them, flicking back and forth between two expectant, understanding faces.
“We know ye. Ye try to hide yerself from us, bun, but… ye cannae. Ye light up every room ye step foot in, and I dinnae think we would have made it through this without ye. Ye’re special to us, even if ye cannae accept it.” He winks. “Yet.”
“We want to help, sweetheart. Let us help you.” You’re between a rock and a hard place. An immovable force, and object. Two wills, locking in around you.
But instead of a cage, it’s warm. It’s gentle. It’s… safe.
“I couldn’t encroach.” You’re on autopilot, mouth making sounds that your heart protests. Simon sighs.
“You’re not encroaching. We’re inviting you.”
You would be putting them in danger. 
“I… I can’t.”
“Why?” Johnny’s still got his hand on yours, and he squeezes, carefully. “Talk to us, bunny.”
“Tell us what’s really going on.” Simon is grave, and for a second, air gets stuck in your lungs, fighting to escape.
You cannot tell them. No matter what. You can’t. The turtleneck is too tight, cotton and polyester scratching at your sore skin, and you shiver.
“There… there’s n-nothing going on. What if the people that mugged me,“ come back to finish the job? Track me down? Words die on your tongue, the lamest attempt to push them back withering away. Simon is having none of it.
“We’re special forces, love. No one is going to get to you while you’re with us." He pauses, trapping you, holding you in stasis, and when he repeats himself, it's a dark vow, a promise. "No one.”
If you do this. You have to tell them.
You can trust them. They’ve proven that so far, haven’t they? 
You hardly know them. 
But isn’t that better? 
“I…” Your hand raises instinctively to your throat, and Johnny’s eyes narrow.
“Bunny.” He leans forward at the waist, slow as to not hurt himself, and you sit, frozen, bug eyed, transfixed on his hand that are stretching towards your turtleneck.
You should stop him. You should tell him to back off. You should do something. 
You can't. You don't. You sit there, waiting for the discovery. Waiting for the shame. 
Once he hooks his pointer finger in the top and tugs, it’s over.
Your heart stops in your chest. Johnny burns, dragon flame and rage, incineration boiling over in his body.
“Bleedin’ christ.” He hisses.
“Fucking hell.” Simon echoes, and you close your eyes. You know the tender skin looks bad. Swollen. Angry.
“Please.” You whisper, lower lip quivering, floodgates trying to burst into pieces. “Please I… I can’t talk about it. I c-can’t, I can’t-“
“Okay, okay. Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now, sweetheart. You’re safe.” You’re crying violently, unable to see, trying to rasp out apologies, and Simon stands, tucking you back into his chest, big hand on the back of your head. Johnny keeps his touch at your back, consistent, reassuring pressure that rubs from the top of your spine down, and he hums delicate, affectionate phrases lilting in heavy Scots’.
The girl in the mirror screams at you inside your head. She calls you a fool. A coward. She tells you the truth, that you’ll only get them hurt, that you know better.
You don’t disagree with a single thing. You know all this to be true.
But for a moment… would it be so bad to indulge? To have one- two good things in your life, even if it’s fleeting. Even if you know how it will end, can you not just have this for yourself, in this suspended moment of time, this chance?
You want it. Them. So desperately, it swells and aches and tugs at you, just as they do.
Time ticks forward, and you do not pull away. You don't try to hide, or evade. You just... exist. Between them. The rock and the hard place. 
“Alright?” Simon murmurs, your tears now stopped, only delicate sniffles sounding from his chest. You nod, shifting backward to take them both in.
“I… if you’ll have me, I’ll… I’ll stay, until I can find a place.” Inky dark shadow flickers across Simon’s face, but sunlight chases it away, happiness crinkling at the corners of his eyes.
“Are ye sure?” Johnny is hopeful, bright, and beautiful, and you tighten your grasp on his hand, holding it like you’ll never let go. You take a deep breath-
You take the plunge.
A moment in the sun. 
“I’m sure.”
1K notes · View notes
kaisacobra · 3 months
Text
Second Best - Tara Carpenter
Summary: It used to be Tara and you against the world, but now you can't remember the last time she'd ever put you first.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, brief weed mention, alcohol, mentions of throwing up, angst
Word Count: 4.8k
a/n: Part two, anyone?
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 (alternate ending)
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Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side. Her friends, her family, and even Tara herself. Especially Tara.
When the girl's sister left home without explanations shortly after their father, and when Christina Carpenter began what would become a long battle with alcoholism, you were there for the younger Carpenter. You held her in your arms as she cried, unsure of herself, confessing between sobs that she felt cursed, as everyone she loved eventually left.
You were already friends, of course, but from that moment on, you had made a powerful oath that almost felt like it had been signed in blood. You would never be like the others. You would never leave Tara alone.
She smiled at your promise and allowed you to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was such a small gesture, but just catching a glimpse of her dimples made you consider that promise like the words of the Bible. Little things about Tara always made your heart race and brightened your world. You eagerly awaited every day for a fleeting sight of the girl's smile, and a part of you dimmed on the days you didn't see it.
It was evident that you were in love with Tara, perhaps even more than that, as the feeling was so intense that it could hardly be described with words. However, your relationship with her was also driven by your devotion. You never made any mention of what you felt for her, too scared to even consider the idea of confessing your love and facing potential rejection, which could eventually lead to the downfall of such a perfect friendship. Yet, your love language was well expressed in the everyday actions you did for her.
It was very obvious, so much so that even Mindy had noticed. Your smart friend Mindy, who had noticed how you looked at Tara like a lost puppy and always catered to her wishes. Your observant friend Mindy, who had also noticed how Tara didn't seem to do even half of the same for you.
She talked to you about it with the best intentions, but still, you had to discuss it with Tara. How could you not? Tara was your best friend! Keeping something like that from her would be almost like a betrayal! And the young Carpenter girl obviously felt uncomfortable with Mindy's statement, finding it completely absurd.
"She must be jealous of us!" Tara said defensively, crossing her arms. Her hair gently moved to the side as she huffed. "Yeah! That's it. She probably just envies not having someone as close to her as we are."
You didn't mention how Mindy had a twin brother who literally was always with her because there was no need. Tara must be right, as usual. Instead, you just nodded in agreement and volunteered to make more popcorn for your movie night.
That doesn't mean the words of the Meeks-Martin girl simply vanished from your mind. Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side, but would Tara Carpenter always be by your side?
_
I'm boreddd. 
Wanna do something?
It was 11pm when Tara sent you this message, the notification ding echoing through the walls of your quiet and currently calm dorm room. You took your eyes off the book you were studying, and a sigh escaped your lips as you read the words on the notification bar. It was almost midnight, and even though the next day was a Saturday, you didn't feel like leaving the college dorm and taking 2 subways to get to the Carpenters' apartment.
Especially because things had been weird since the events in Woodsboro.
You looked around to avoid the phone screen, as if that would make the message disappear along with your dilemma. The room was dark, except for the lamp lit on your desk, and you had planned to relax and watch an interesting movie, taking advantage of the fact that your roommate had gone to some fraternity party.
But it was still Tara. Even after what happened, it was still Tara, and you could never say no to the girl.
Defeated by your own feelings, you picked up your phone and thought for a few seconds before typing something decent in response.
Sure. I'll be there in 30.
You barely had time to get up from the chair when someone started calling you, the saved contact name indicating that it was your best friend. With a sigh and a grimace, you answered, quickly putting the call on speaker and placing the phone on the table so you could get ready more quickly.
"Tara?" You called out as you searched for some nicer clothes in your wardrobe. "I just sent you a message, okay? I'll be there in 30."
"No! Don't come here!" The girl answered with an urgent tone that sparked your concern. Was something happening at the apartment? you thought. Before you could let go of the shirt in your hands to get the phone, she continued speaking. "I thought we could go out? There's a party happening near campus, a guy from my class invited me."
Feeling a bit more relieved now that you knew nothing was wrong, your brain caught onto what you well recognized as Tara's sheepish tone. Your "spidey sense" for trouble seemed to be buzzing when you thought of a specific detail. "Did Sam allow you to go? At this hour of the night? To a party?"
Since the massacre last year, the dynamics in everyone's normal lives had obviously undergone some changes, but perhaps the biggest of all was the role Sam had come to play in Tara's life, as the adult presence she had always needed. Unfortunately, the younger Carpenter didn't seem too thrilled about it.
It was clear that she was more than happy to have her older sister back; that wasn't the issue. The problem was that Tara had gotten used to essentially raising herself. She didn't have a curfew, nor did she have someone breathing down her neck about her grades; she simply made the best decisions for herself and enjoyed the freedom of not having anyone hold her accountable for anything.
You knew Tara well enough to understand that this was driving her crazy. She wanted to change, wanted to move forward and not have to look back and face the horrors she endured, but she also didn't want anything to change. You knew, more than anything, that Tara didn't want anything to have changed.
Maybe that's why she never brought up the things she had said.
The girl's voice on the other end of the line snapped you out of your thoughts. "She took a shift at a bar. If we go now, we can be back before she even notices I'm gone."
"I don't know, Tara," You scratched your neck, trying to convey your skepticism in your voice. "What if she finds out? She'll be furious, and God knows I'm terrified of your sister."
"Oh, come on. If anything happens, I'll be the only one she gets mad at. Besides, Sam loves you. I dare to say she loves you more than she loves me."
Despite Tara's playful tone when saying those words, you pondered their meaning. It was true that within your group of friends, Sam considered you the most responsible and felt a sense of gratitude for your efforts in protecting Tara while she was away. It was painful to admit, but perhaps it was true that Sam loved you more than Tara did.
Especially because Tara was the one who replaced you. Not Sam.
"Come on, please!" The Carpenter girl tried again. "It'll be fun! Mindy and Chad are meeting us there!"
"Oh." You paused, a bad feeling spreading through your chest. "Do they already know about the plan?"
Tara laughed, as if you had made a joke. "Of course. I talked to you last because I knew it would be harder to convince you."
A bitter taste lingered on your tongue. There was no reason for you to have thought that Tara might want you to accompany her to the party alone, but the truth was that you could never control your wishful thinking that maybe, one day, she could see you as something more than just a friend.
But, of course, you hadn't been Tara's first choice for anything in a long time.
Still, your irrational love made you choose Tara every time. "Okay. Send me the address."
With the call ended and a notification with the address of the party, you ruffled your hair in frustration and decided to focus on choosing at least a presentable outfit for a night filled with loud sounds, bright lights, questionable drinks, and even more questionable people.
Your eyes were fixed on options of shirts, pants, and dresses, but your mind seemed determined to remind you of the same thoughts that kept you awake at night. Why were you still subjecting yourself to this? Even after what happened last year?
You remembered it had started gradually. Tara and Amber's friendship. It used to be just conversations about common interests, gossip about annoying people at school, and the usual teenage life complaints. You were still Tara's best friend, still the person she sought at the end of the day.
Suddenly, it was taken away from you. Tara and Amber seemed to grow closer, and people started to see them as a single entity. Amber became included in everything you and your friends did, and Tara's presence became scarcer in your life as she had more and more commitments with the dark-haired girl.
You became a secondary thought for Tara, as if your strong friendship meant nothing. As if your promises meant nothing. When the two of them started a relationship, then you knew you had no chance of getting your Tara back.
Still, out of love and consideration for her, you decided to stay. You still had the same group of friends, anyway, and you didn't want the atmosphere to become awkward or any friendships to be broken. You continued to do your best for Tara even if she didn't know or even acknowledge you the way she once did.
Every now and then, you think about how it could have spared you a lot if you had distanced yourself at that moment.
With your chosen outfit and an immense desire to give up, you left home and began to make your way to the party location. It wasn't too far, so you could walk, but the dimly lit streets and the silence of the late hour left your nerves on edge.
Fear had always been a constant emotion in your life. Fear of people judging your sexuality, of Tara discovering what you felt for her, of Tara growing tired of you. Eventually, this fear escalated to the fear of being killed by a maniac who wanted to kill you and all your friends with a knife.
Oh, sweet memories.
The thump of some music booming from a speaker made your walk feel a little less lonely. You began to hear the sounds and see the lights of the party as you approached the house. There were people dancing on the sidewalk with bottles in hand, and others sitting on the front stairs, passing a joint from hand to hand and laughing at absolutely nothing.
You glanced through the open window, and a hint of panic struck you as you realized the immense crowd of people packed together. How the hell were you going to find your friends like this?
Taking a deep breath, you decided to get it over with and entered the house, looking around for at least one familiar face. You tried to make your way through the people shouting and dancing together, elbowing some and pushing others. No one seemed to care anyway, being more interested in enjoying the moment.
Fortunately, your salvation came in the form of Mindy Meeks-Martin, who spotted you from her place on the couch and raised her hand for you to see. You approached your friend and you could see that next to her was an unfamiliar girl. She had shoulder-length hair with platinum highlights at the tips, and a cute face. The two seemed to be sitting close to each other, but you decided not to comment on it. Mindy would tell you eventually if this was going to be something.
"I can't believe she actually convinced you to come," Your friend commented, raising the red plastic cup in her hand in a greeting, along with her trademark sarcastic smile. "Have a little self-respect, y/n."
"Ugh. You're annoying." You rolled your eyes and looked between the two girls sitting in front of you. "So... who are you?"
The unknown girl smiled kindly and waved. "Anika. Nice to meet you."
"She's from one of my classes," Mindy quickly explained, and you noticed her hand hovering over Anika's shoulder before giving a casual nod and starting to look around for a certain person.
Realizing your thoughts were elsewhere, the twin sighed and nodded her head in a direction. "She's in the kitchen. You know, you should have some fun before you start your babysitting duties."
You smiled and began to turn. "If I wanted to have fun, I wouldn't be here. You know that." With that, you gave a final wave to the two girls and headed to the place you could now identify as the kitchen.
Being in a fraternity house, you hadn't expected to find an organized and clean room in the midst of a party, but you also didn't expect it to be this bad. Plastic cups were scattered on the floor, spilling liquids you couldn't identify, some couples were kissing, including one that was making out on the countertop full of empty bottles and crushed chip bags.
The strong smell of alcohol, smoke, and even sweat irritated your nostrils, but at least the light was bright enough for you to see what was in front of you. This allowed you to witness the exact moment when a certain girl, no more than 150cm tall, ran out of the room with her hand covering her mouth.
Muttering a curse, you sprinted after her, praying that at least she could make it to the bathroom before throwing up. You knew how Tara was at parties. Weak with alcohol but stubborn enough to keep drinking even knowing she was pushing her limits.
You still remembered the first time this happened. Amber had thrown another one of her parties, and this time, Tara was determined to drink everything she could, claiming it would be fun. You had declined her request for you to do the same, arguing that someone needed to stay sober enough to make sure the house didn't catch fire, but in reality, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of Tara if necessary.
As predicted, she drank so much that she spent 20 minutes puking in the bathroom. She asked you a few times not to worry, that Amber would show up soon to take care of her, but the girl didn't appear until the end of the party. In the meantime, you took her place, holding Tara's hair back and getting water to prevent her from getting dehydrated.
You had always been there to take care of Tara, and yet...
The flashbacks from that day gave you a sense of déjà vu as you did the same thing, but at a different party, years later. One of your hands held Tara's hair in a ponytail while the other stroked the girl's back, trying to provide some comfort as she emptied her stomach into the toilet.
When she finished, you closed the lid and flushed, leaving the girl leaning against the wall as you went to get a tissue to wipe her face. You silently thanked the closed bathroom door for doing a good job of muffling the loud sounds from the living room, as you needed something quieter now.
With the tissue now in hand, you turned to look at Tara, and your heart skipped a beat. It was unfair and almost inhumane that the girl could still look like the statue of an angel even when sweaty and weak. Your eyes traced every feature of her face, from her closed eyes to the slightly open mouth. You knew Tara's face as if it were a map, but every time you looked at her again, you found a different kind of beauty, almost like an unexplored path.
You crouched down to be at eye level with her face and began to gently clean the dirty areas so delicately that some might think the girl was made of porcelain. She shifted a bit at your touch, and a hint of her dimple began to show as she murmured softly, "Thanks, Amber."
The words that sounded so sweet and vulnerable came out of Tara's mouth like projectiles that punched a hole in your chest. Your lips trembled, and tears began to threaten to fall down your face, causing you to close your eyes to contain the flow.
It still hurt. It still hurt to know that Tara kept choosing her even after everything.
It was painful enough when Tara was attacked, and you had to anxiously wait as she went in and out of surgeries with no prognosis in sight, especially a positive one. But everything that followed caused the worst pain you had ever felt in your life.
It would be much easier to blame Amber for everything that happened. She was the one responsible for filling Tara's head with lies and manipulation in a moment of vulnerability, talking about how you were suspicious for living near the Carpenter house and not hearing anything, how it was obvious to everyone that you were obsessed with Tara and maybe had finally gone crazy because you couldn't have her.
But you couldn't put all the blame on her when Tara was the one who got scared when you visited her alone in the hospital. You couldn't ignore that Tara was the one who looked into your eyes and told you to leave, saying she was afraid of you. Saying she would never feel the same way about you.
Tara only believed your words after everything was over, and Amber and Richie were dead in the hall of Stu Macher's old house. You never received an apology, but maybe the blame was yours for not demanding one. You were so focused on taking care of Tara, as always, that you just let it slide as if it hadn't happened.
But at midnight, when you can't sleep, you wonder what would happen if Tara could choose you as the killer instead of Amber. You're afraid of what the answer would be.
But, as always, you put yourself second and bite your lower lip hard to prevent yourself from crying. Creating more distance between you and Tara's face, crushing the tissue in your hands to stay centered, you uttered the words as gently as you could. "Y/n, Tara. It's y/n."
"Oh." Tara chuckled, as if she had made an innocent mistake and not just called you by the name of her deceased ex-girlfriend. "My bad."
My bad. That's all she said.
But you continued to clean Tara, even knowing that the most you would get the next day would be a thank you if she hadn't been drunk enough to forget everything.
Love could be a real leash sometimes, but maybe you were at fault for letting Tara hold it.
_
You had never felt so exhausted in your life.
As you watched your friends having fun at the Halloween party, Chad and Ethan dancing on the dance floor, Mindy and Anika, as always, sitting together on a couch, and Tara drinking her whatever-number-it-was drink, you felt as if an anchor was pulling you down and waiting for the right moment to bury you under the ground.
It was a constant and growing exhaustion within you since Woodsboro. Everything seemed stacked, and you hadn't even stopped to seek help, trying to juggle everything as if everything were fine, as if a part of you weren't dying day after day.
You were trying to stay strong. For yourself, for your studies, for your friends. For Tara. But, oh, how difficult it was.
Meanwhile, Tara danced freely with some stranger, drinking a bit more of whatever was in her plastic cup. Part of you wondered if she would ever notice that you needed her help, her support, even if it were just for friendship.
But then, you remember the unspoken apologies and realize that perhaps Tara doesn't know you as well as you know her. Most likely, she may not care enough to try to notice any change in your behavior, as long as it doesn't affect the way you treat her.
It was pathetic and humiliating that you kept coming back to her and treating her as the center of your world even though the feeling clearly wasn't mutual. But the love you felt for Tara consumed you like the most powerful drug in your system. It might not be healthy, but you needed her presence to calm down, needed her to look at you to breathe, needed to make her laugh to feel your heartbeat.
And every time she laughed at one of your terrible jokes or every time she leaned on you during a movie, it was as if all the bad things disappeared just for the tiny possibility that she might be opening her heart to you, so you could finally have a chance to make her happy.
Your cloudy thoughts made the party pass quickly, like a timelapse in a movie, and you realized you had been standing in the same place while everyone else was having fun around you. How fitting.
When you really started paying attention to your surroundings, it was already too late. Sam had entered and tased a guy in the balls, and Tara had stormed out of the house completely furious. You quickly followed Mindy and Anika outside, knowing that a fight was about to happen.
The street was chilly at that early hour of the morning, and you tried to suppress a shiver that ran through your body. Most of your friends had also left the house, and all of you could see the Carpenter sisters arguing a bit further ahead. Both were angry and yelling at each other, and you knew Sam was right, but this conversation would probably be better to have in a private setting, without the curious eyes of other people passing by on the sidewalk.
You already had enough problems in your daily life without needing another Twitter post calling Sam a crazy scene maker.
"Hey, I'll try to talk to them, okay?" You practically whispered to Mindy. "It's better to resolve this at home."
"Isn't it better not to get involved?" She whispered back, but you were already determined that this was the best solution, letting the advice go in one ear and out the other. As you approached the sisters with cautious steps, their voices gradually increased and became more aggressive.
Sam noticed you approaching them and pointed at you, which caused you some astonishment, making you slow your steps to grasp the situation. "If you won't listen to me, why can't you at least listen to y/n?! She's your best friend, isn't she? At least she knows you need therapy, not drowning your sorrows in alcohol!"
Your cheeks heated up at the comment, and you shifted uncomfortably in place. The entire street seemed to be looking at your group now, urging you to try again to end the argument at that moment. "Guys, maybe we-"
"Oh, I'm sure you wish I were more like y/n!" Tara shouted and turned to you with a dark look. She was still clearly intoxicated, and her wobbly posture was the biggest indicator of that, even though she tried to restrain herself by crossing her arms over the pirate costume.
She scrutinized you from head to toe with a malicious smile that sent chills down your spine. "Sweet little y/n. Pathetic and stuck in the same place all these years. Is that how you want me to be, Sam?"
The tone loaded with disdain, even slurred by the alcohol, felt like a stab to your heart, bringing some tears to your eyes. She's drunk, it doesn't mean anything, that's what you were trying to tell yourself.
But... Drunk people usually speak the hidden truths lurking in the depths of their minds, don´t they?
Still, Tara didn't seem satisfied with what she said. "You said I need therapy, Sam, but what about her, huh? All this time, and she does nothing but stick to me. That's bordering on obsession, isn't it?"
Obsession. Exactly what Amber used to say about what you felt for Tara.
The cold of the street and the overall situation clashed to determine who would control the tremors running through your body. Shame and humiliation left your ears hot and your head dizzy, as if you were about to faint and fall onto the freezing concrete sidewalk.
"Tara, that's enough." You heard Mindy's voice closer, or maybe it was farther away. Your sense of location seemed to blend and twist along with all the other senses. The sound of something shattering reached your ears, and it could be either a bottle or your own broken heart.
"Why? She'll always end up coming back anyway." The younger Carpenter murmured and staggered with unsteady steps until she got close enough for you to smell the cheap alcohol on her breath. You wanted to move, run away so she couldn't see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but Tara's gaze left you as petrified as Medusa's.
You swallowed hard as your eyes focused anywhere but on the girl in front of you as a last attempt to escape from this torment, but it wasn't enough to prevent Tara's words from rolling off her tongue like poison.
"You know you'll never be her, right?"
Sobs escaped your throat, and you no longer felt control over your body. Unfortunately, your reaction seemed to fuel something primal in Tara. "Why do you still try?! Do you know how hard it is to ignore your pleading eyes every time you see me?! As if I'm a damn monster just because I don't want to kiss you?! It exhausts me! You exhaust me!"
"I never asked you for anything. I just... I just love you." You whispered those words the best you could with a shaky voice and quivering lips. Looking at Tara used to be the best part of your day, but now it felt so painful that your insides seemed to be squeezed.
The girl flashed a mean smile, and, for the first time, the sight of her dimples made you ache. 
"Then stop. You weren't my first choice back then, and you won't be my first choice now."
More sobs escaped you, and the whole world seemed overstimulating. Lights were too bright, sounds were unintelligible yet too loud, everything seemed to tremble and crumble at your feet, and you just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and beg for that pain in your chest to go away.
Someone pulled Tara away from you, and a gentle hand rested on your shoulder, but your eyes were too watery to identify the owner. Nothing made sense, and you didn't even know how you were still standing. A physical pain spread through your body like a disease, and Tara's words echoed in your head like a siren.
Without the strength to stay there any longer, you turned around and ran as fast as you could towards what you hoped was the direction of your dormitory. It was already late, and the streets were empty and dark, but you didn't care anymore. The faint sound of an aggressive conversation faded from your ears as you ran farther and farther away from everyone.
You had always been by Tara Carpenter's side.
But now? Now, you were tired of being her second best.
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hritika13-tamboli · 3 months
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J𝑒𝑜𝑛 J𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑘𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑠 1...
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Series :
Lone blue egg @foxymoxynoona
Summary : Jungkook is a simple man. He goes to work, he hangs out with friends, he worries about finding a mate to take home for his hometown breeding season. Maybe he spends a little more money on cam girls than is fiscally responsible but he has niche tastes. Maybe he feels a bit adrift, but he's a young penguin hybrid, supposedly in his prime, far from his crèche. At least he's good at one thing: taking care of his precious egg. A comfort egg, not a real egg, he's not a real penguin, just a man with penguin DNA and behavioral tendencies. Just like Yoongi isn't actually an owl, even if he does stay up all night and sometimes hoot to fuck with their roommates. But this is a real love story, even if a slightly odd one.
Summer Nights @marginalmadness
Summary : A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?
Evocation @bonny-kookoo
Summary : Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.
4-7-8 @jiminrings
Summary : you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.
Love sewn @jvnghxope
Summary : You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
Sweet tooth @bonny-kookoo
Summary : Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?
Alpha jeon @pbandjk
Summary: You’ve been raised to be a Luna since you were born. You’ve always had an idea of how your future would be, there was little room to imagine anything different. You’d meet your mate and fall madly in love, and the two of you would take over for your parents once they got older. But what happens when a certain wolf comes in and throws all of your plans on their head?
i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane @taexual
 Summary : jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.
Please love me @ahundredtimesover
Summary : As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.
Rattled @gukslut
Summary : "Jeongguk?" His chin quivers and he bites at his bottom lip, clenching his jaw as his eyes flood with tears, meeting Jin's questioning gaze as he collapses against Jin's broad shoulder, sobbing. Jeongguk struggles to make words come out of his mouth.Jin holds him tightly, not speaking, just waiting, trying to put the mess of puzzle pieces together in a way that might make sense. Finally, Jeongguk sucks in a heaving breath."I had a baby," he sputters out. "That's my baby.""I didn't know this baby existed eight hours ago," he chokes out, sniffling.
Lacrymaria olor @bonny-kookoo
Summary : In which you've survived on this foreign planet for more than two years until you're caught and brought to the King, who will decide your fate.
Bitchin @kinktae
Summary : The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.
Under your skin @armpirate
Summary : You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.
Unstable @bonny-kookoo
Summary : Wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything. And yet, maybe it's not as bad as you thought.
One-shot :
Idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk
Summary : jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.
Night After Night @brown-bi-beautiful
Summary : "Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is".... You broke up with your boyfriend because he couldn't let go of his fuckboy antiques now he's gonna win you back whatever it takes.
If i told you || two-shots || @gukyi
Summary : in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.
Scattered stars || two-shots || @taegularities
Summary : “And with that, a picture of Jungkook flashed into your mind, his fingertips caressing your cheek and his gentle and affectionate smile sending shivers down your spine as you admitted to yourself that yes - you wanted him.“
Welcome to the heartbreak show @numinousher
Summary : you’re in love with your partner in class that everyone fears (and loves) due to his stoic facial expression and the way he rejects girls rather harshly. as you get to know him, will he be able to handle your heart that you so willingly gave him to care for or, will he break it due to his hatred for people who are in love with him?
In which she's done with him @minstrivia
Summary : Jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone !! happy ending!
Angel in the marble @venusjeon
Summary : after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.
i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." @serendipitous-seven
Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?
Los Angeles Laker @xpeachesncream
Summery : being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways.
1K notes · View notes
nkogneatho · 10 months
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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 (𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹'𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑷𝑪𝑳)
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—cw: fem!reader, diabetes worth fluff, soft and protective dads, megumi, tsumiki as yours and toji's kids, mention of childhood trauma in geto's, dad jokes, not proofread
—a/n: I hope you shed a tear and laugh out loud. Don't let this flop. I actually wrote all of these from my personal emotions and experiences :)) Reblogs appreciated.
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#mlist #art commissions #taglist
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˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TELL ME WHO WAS YOUR FAVORITE DAD!!! ༊*·˚
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
All these jjk women clowning gojo makes me think his daughter roasts him at every chance she gets. It's not even on purpose. It's just wise words out of a child's mouth.
"Hana-chan~" he calls her in a sugar laced tone. "How do I look in this?" Satoru pointed towards the awful shirt he was wearing. The outfit was all over the place. It was so bad that even your five year old could tell it.
"Papa's good at fighting, not fashion." His jaw immediately dropped and he could hear you trying to control your laugh.
He knelt so he could be a little more "Hana-chan, don't be mean to papa. It's making me cry."
"She's not being mean, baby. Just telling the truth. I'll divorce you if you wear that one more time," you stated, walking towards both of them.
"Oh yeah," he picks the five year old in his embrace, "I'd fight your lawyer. Daddy's the strongest. Right, hana-chan?"
"But you lost the argument to mama las' night." It was amazing how she can sounds so sweet while ripping your husband apart. You finally laughed out loud because you just couldn't control it.
You would expect Toru to put up an argument at times like this but he just giggles, and squeezes you both in a tight hug.
Yeah. He might be the strongest, but he'd always loose to his two girls.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 .ೃ࿐
Your four year old and seven year old were determined to surprise their daddy for father's day. Toji never credits himself. He does so much, but expects nothing back. The thought of "what my kids might gift me for father's day" doesn't even strike his mind. He goes out and sees all the decorations on the stores with big glittered alphabets spelling "happy father's day" that's how he comes to know about it. Yet, the man wouldn't expect anything. He knows you three love him. He just doesn't want anything in return. His love doesn't come at a price for you all to pay. So when he came home to utensils clanking to the ground, he was worried.
"Oné-san, no. That's not how I wanted yout two write," megumi complained.
"Megumi, I am older. I know what to do." They both were trying to dominate each other on what to write on the cake. When they heard Toji's footsteps, the little boy pushed you towards the kitchen entrance.
"Mama, don't let papa come in now." You were laughing as you get kicked out of your own kitchen.
"Hey, sweetheart. I heard some noise. 's everything alright?" Toji gave you a quick peck after the question.
"Oh? Oh that yeah! Everything's fine. I just dropped the pan."
"Are ya hurt?" His eyes look completely concerned.
"Uh hun, I am fi—" before you could complete the sentence, your two cute munchkins came squealing, holding the little cake with small hands.
You moved your figure out of the way so your man can see what his kids made for him.
"Happy father's day, papa." They both wished him with a hearty smile. Toji was surprised. His heart suddenly warmed up to the feeling of the view in front of him. His two babies with flour patches on their tees, tsumiki's messy bun and megumi with cream near his lips, confirming he must've snuck in a taste when his sister was looking away. He wanted to cry.
You looked down and noticed there was a spelling mistake with the word "world" on the cake which was supposed to spell "to best daddy in the world"
"Gumi, Tsumiki, there's a mis—" Toji looked at you and shaked his head, speaking with his looks, telling you to not say it. He did notice it, but he didn't care about the mistake. All he wanted now was to gobble down the cake that his babies made. He pat them both on the head, ruffling their hair. "Thank you, little bears. Lesgo' enjoy this and then papa will take you and mama to the game world you like."
With the way he is looking at them, you're sure he'd eat that cake even if it was poison.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
Geto didn't think he'll ever have kids, but when he was gifted with twin girls, he claims he is the luckiest person alive ever since.
He loves spoiling his little girls. He takes them shopping, pampers them all the time, helps them learn their nursery rhymes. If they ever were to grow up being too bratty, you are prepared to blame him because he never scolds them. He would dare not to. But that is the thing about kids. You don't yell at them. You don't have to be so harsh. You just have to ease it in and make them understand how their wrongdoings can affect others, hurt others as well as themselves.
Something always triggered inside you when you saw him being soft with Rumi and Arohi. You wished you were treated that way in your childhood. You only thought about them being bratty if not yelled, because that's what your childhood was like.
You were working on some documents, when you heard the door unlocking. Rumi and Arohi walked in with their pink bunny bags on their back.
"Mama, we're home!!" they squealed and ran into your arms, as you quickly set the files aside.
"Aww, seems like you had fun without mama. Where's your dad?"
"There." They pointed at the 3 foot box with legs on the door.
"AH! OH MY GOD. Who are you? How did you get in?" Your mother instincts hid the girls behind your back, as you tried to find something to hit the man with.
"Y/N, NO. IT'S ME," the box monster yelled. He moved his head revealing his fox eyes and you could recognize him.
"Suguru? Oh dear."
"A little help please," his voice felt struggled. You quickly sprinted towards the door, and helped him trying to get the box on the floor only two reaveal all the bags he had behind him.
"Did you guys buy the whole store? And what's this? A lego set?"
"That's for you, mama," Rumi stated.
"Yes mama, we got it for you. The biggest one in the store," said Arohi, running towards her shopping bag filled with toys.
"Suguru, for me? Why?"
"Darling. I always see you doing so much for us," his palms now cupped your cheek. "It broke my heart when you told me that story when you wanted the lego set but the responsibile daughter in you felt you did nothing to achieve it so why ask for it. Well here you go."
"I still don't understand," you shaked your head.
"Y/n. It's okay to spoil yourself. You don't always have to work hard to give yourself a little love. These things that you wanted were always yours even if all you did was try." Tears started streaming down your eyes. You felt the seven year old girl in you finally smile.
"Rumi-chan. Arohi-chan. Let's play with mama's gift." All three started sabotaging the tapes and lables in the big blue box.
You felt happy to have this family. You know why he's a great father? Because Suguru doesn't care for two kids. He spoils three. Your daughters, and that little girl in you who wished to have all that you do today.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 .ೃ࿐
A man like nanami will always be a great father. No doubt. But here's one thing you probably don't know about Nanami Kento.
He's a full time salaryman, and part time comedian. Well...probably the worst one because his dad jokes are awful. You wanna know how it started in the first place, right? So it was when you were feeding the two year old the baby food, that you suddenly heard your phone ringing. Kento quicky replaced your place and took over the feeding as you walked towards the hall.
"Aww look at you. Aren't you the cutest baby in the world?" He took the spoon off the alligator cartooned bowl and extended it near her mouth. "Do you want to hear daddy's joke?"
Three mintues later you walked in two the sound of your little girl giggling and laughing. She's never laughed so loud.
"Oh my god. She's laughing."
"Yes. I made her laugh, beloved." Kento looked so happy with the biggest smile.
"Really? What did you do?"
"I said a joke." You luaghed too soon. Was that line a joke because Nanami Kento being comical? No. Impossible.
"I am sorry, baby. It's not true, right?"
"It is. You wanna see? Okay here we go." He moved his head back to harumi. "Harumi, do you know what do you call an alligator in a vest?" Your eyes were hooked on to them.
"An investigator." You couldn't believe your eyes nor your ears. She was really laughing. You chuckled too. Harumi must really loved his dad. Either that, or she has a poor sense of humor like the blonde in front of her.
Since then, Kento always collects dad jokes like pokemons and records her giggling.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 .ೃ࿐
Trust me or not, Sukuna is a great father. I'll tell you why. You don't see his protectiveness? Yeah he doesn't show much care on the surface, but you don't spot how he is always lurking behind you to whoop anyone's ass who tries to hurt his loved ones?
That's how Sukuna is even as a father. He wants his kids to stand up for themselves, but he'd always be having their back. To hold them and catch them if they trip.
"Oh they sure do grow up fast. You blink and they're already in college, y/n," your neighbor laughed with you. It was Akio's fifth birthday party.
"Everything looks great, but... " she scanned around, "don't you think pink theme is too girly for a boy? Especially the flower tiara on Akio's head.
You were irritated. How dare she say that? Unfortunately for her, Sukuna heard it and quickly walked to you. He kneeled to place the sanrio stickers on Akio's cheeks.
"Yeah so?" Your husband questioned the woman. "Who said pink is for just girls? And even if it was, there wouldn't be anything wrong with Akio liking it." The silence followed made it clear she didn't expect the clapback.
"Plus the tiara makes him look the cutest. Maybe you should try one. It's on the counter. You can surely use..." he eyed her head to toe"...some glow up.
She immediately rushed out of the door with her son and not apparently the counter. You three burst out laughing.
"Ugly Bitch telling my son what he should like."
"KUNA!" you slapped his back for swearing in front of your child.
"What?! Hey, if Akio ever wanted to call her that, I will galdy let it slide. In fact, I'll support him."
He might act like an immature kid sometime, but you know you had kids with the right person when he makes sure his children are raised in healthy environment.
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Taglist: @denji-star @simp-lauren @katsukichu @bbytamaki @thebrokenkitkat @his-saiko @loml-riri @milophiliac @aztecbrujeria @tohokuu @chailattle @erintaro @pumpumrins @lilitudemon @suyacho @keiskyutie @aiizenn @fluffy-ai @bibemiiu @4sat0ruu @namcore @yuujispinkhair @buerriberry @vagabond-umlaut @thedead101
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marycorcaroli · 7 months
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riding w zoro, while his hands are tied.
18+, riding, fem!reader.
rules ; masterlist.
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zoro, who for the first time in his life lets you ride him and...tie his hands to the headboard of the bed. he sees your face red with tears of pleasure, and zoro hasn't even touched you. you try to move on his huge cock, it's hard, but you can't stop yourself, because it's so...wonderful?
and zoro makes it worse, even when he's vulnerable, pushing his hips into yours and hitting all the right spots. and he's not ashamed, he's doing it to make you cum as hard as he can.
"z-zoro...please stop..."
you flap your eyelashes innocently and try to get the words out, but that cock inside you that's just getting harder and harder.
"aww, my little baby can't take this cock? i thought you were a big girl, and you are so shy and don't know how to do anything..ahh such a problem." zoro says this with an obvious smirk on his lips, mentally urging you to stop and let him do all the work, because you're already tired, but...who would give him that chance?
deep inside, zoro loves it, loves the way you try to satisfy him and make him cum, you shake with your fantastic orgasm, make the most pornographic moans and sobs, and obediently do everything you can to make it happen to zoro.
your whole room is filled with the slapping of your hips against his as zoro tries to break the ropes so he can finally touch you, run his hands over your beautiful curves, and kiss you as hard as he can.
"come on, come on, baby, do your best for your lover, make me feel good, you want to be surprised later, don't you?"
and you will do whatever he says. you start bouncing harder and harder without stopping for a second, zoro has never moaned loudly before but because of you he will, he sees how much you like his sounds and he wants to make sure it will be the only thing you will listen to all the time. your claws scratch his chest and squeeze his nipples hard, then zoro grunts in pleasure.
when you reach your orgasms and when you finally collapse on zoro's chest, absolutely out of breath, trying to catch a little air, your chest heaving with each exhalation and your heart pounding aggressively, you have just had an orgasm you have never had before and all in a matter of minutes.
even zoro didn't know you could do that, to last so long. he felt you all over and he feels you now, your bodies literally stuck to each other and it's impossible to get them apart.
slowly moving closer to zoro's neck and nuzzling into it, you feel his smirk as he kisses your temple and down to your earlobe, telling you some nice words to let you know how good you are to him.
"you've done a great job, i love you, know that, i'm proud of you."
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abbyscherry · 4 months
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ㅤ ㅤ— 🎀 apparently i can’t get enough of meanish lawyer!abby ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤ  ㅤhighly inspired by this post.
mean lawyer!abby who refuses to touch you or do anything that you pleaded for her to do simply because you’re acting out and being a brat while she’s trying to finish up some stuff for a case she was currently working on. Instead, she just sits there, looking at you unamused as you prance around your shared apartment in nothing but the thinnest pair of panties that you own— could find, and one of her white button-ups. huffing and sighing every time you walk back into the living room.
“babe, i love you, so much, but can you please stop huffing, i’m trying to work” abby muttered. eyebrows pinched together, and her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. “just 10 more minutes, is all i ask for”
“you said 10 more minutes, 15 minutes ago” you grumbled under your breath. practically throwing your body onto the couch and kicking your feet up on the coffee table. “i can wait another 10 minutes i’m sure” you scoffed. picking at your nails with a shrug.
you were too busy staring off at the black screen of the TV to notice the way her jaw clenched and uncleaned. the way her eyebrow rose at your remark, and the way she shook her head at yout attitude. “i told you—” 
“and i told you i would wait” you couldn’t help but cut her off with a scoff that had her holding her breath. “simple”
“and i wasn’t done talking” 
you gulped down the bratty remarks that clawed at your throat and threatened to spill at the sound of her voice and when the sound of the floorboard creaking beneath her foot rang through your ears and it was then that you finally noticed she was standing on the opposite side of the coffee table, staring at you with a hard glare. a few of her buttons undone, loose strands of hair flying in different directions, and those cute glasses of hers no longer on her face. she looked annoyed but so tired at the same time the longer she watched you. “abby—” you whispered, sinking your teeth into your lower lip.
“i do not want to hear another word coming out that mouth, do you understand?” she growled lowly. blue eyes piercing through yours as her chest rises up and down with each breath she takes.  “i have a little work to finish, so give me 10 minutes, and then i am all yours—”
you just had to run your mouth again. cutting her off with a sigh. “but you promised we would watch this new show—”
abby had somehow maneuvered herself from the other side of the table until she stood right in front of you. shivers ran down your spine when she crouched in front of you slowly, her pants creasing as she moved, and your eyes gazed upwards so damn slow until they met hers. still looking at you angrily. “try that again” she was still able to stay calm. “c’mon, you want to be a brat, so use your fuckin’ words” she scoffed, jaw clenching.
“i’m sorry—”
shaking her head slowly, like she couldn’t believe you dared to apologize now when you knew you were in trouble for your attitude problem. your eyes widening quickly while your lips part once she curls her finger around your chin, pulling your face closer to hers hard enough to have you gasping. “yeah baby? now you wanna be sorry?” she questioned. nodding her head with a click of her tongue.  “i don’t think you are, you just love to run that fuckin’ mouth of yours whenever you can, huh?”
looking up at her with wide eyes, she has the audacity to chuckle when she spots the tears welling up. “you cryin’ baby?” she mumbled. squeezing your cheeks together with one hand while the other wipes the one that threatens to fall. “what happened to my good girl, hm?” 
“just wanted to spend time with you” you mumbled truthfully. your thighs clench together tightly when her grip on your jaw tightens. the feeling has you holding back a whine when she just hums, nodding like she was listening but was more focused on the way a tear droplet falls down your cheek. “i am sorry”
abby leans her face closer to yours. so close that her breath is clashing with yours and she can see your pupils are so dilated because of her actions and the way she was touching you. chuckling softly, she tilts your head back, rising to her normal height, and the sight has you finally whining quietly in your spot. “keep up this attitude and we’ll see where it gets you” she mumbled. squishing your cheeks together a final time before licking her lips. “because as much as you love it, i would hate to bend you over my knee and make sure you can’t sit down for a week because you keep being a fuckin’ brat” she grinned wickedly.
safe to say, you waited the whole 10 extra minutes.
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belovedcloud · 12 days
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The Better Man | Best Friend! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader
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Notes: It's been a while since I've actually written something. Been having the biggest brainrot over Leon Kennedy so enjoy. :)
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-> PT.2
WC: 1.2K ik it's short
CW: Cheating (reader gets cheated on, not by Leon), soft dom Leon, porn with barely any plot, little bit of overstimulation, petnames (sweetheart, pretty girl), oral.
Something you didn't expect to see when returning home to your boyfriend was to see another woman beneath him. Was it worth it to toss away a relationship just for some pussy? To your ex, yes. So here you are, outside of Leon's apartment, God knows at what hour. Faint knocking echoed down the hallway as you waited for Leon to open the door, I mean it was nearly 2 am... Would he even be awake to see you tonight? Your thoughts were soon swept aside as you hear keys jingling on the other side of the door. Quickly, you wipe your teary eyes as you see Leon open the door.
"Y/N?" He mumbled with a confused tone as he saw you stood in front of him. Turning his head to check the clock hanging on the wall, the hands of the clock displaying 1:55 am. "What are you doing her-" His words came to a stop as he saw a tear stream down your face. "My boyfriend.. well, not boyfriend anymore I guess" Y/N hushed out before wiping her face, "He cheated on me, and I'm sorry for coming to you at such a late hour but you're the only person who I know that woul-" Leon's fingers made her jump as she felt him tap her shoulder. "Don't be sorry, come here.." He whispered as he embraced her. A newfound warmth spread all over your body as you felt his arms tighten.
Leon slowly lead you to his couch, trying to calm down your sobs into his chest for a few minutes as you spill out what you saw on that same evening. Soon enough, no more tears flooded your face and you could see Leon's expression. Nothing but kind. He got up and after a few minutes he came back with a few snacks and drinks. It was his best attempt to cheer you up - it worked.
"I can't believe I even dated him, you even told me how much of an asshole he was." Y/N sighed as she took another sip of her drink. A slight grin spread on Leon's face as she shit-talked about her ex. "He never deserved you y'know, you up him in both looks and personality." He said as he took a pretzel from the bag, snickering at his own comment. The next 30 minutes was just you and Leon bad mouthing your ex and how he acted. Even in bed.
"He couldn't even last like 2 minutes! He sucked at it and didn't even really bother with aftercare. Unless you call a quick kiss on the lips and turning around aftercare." She scoffed, holding onto a bag of chips. "You're serious?" Leon asked looking at her with a teasing expression. "No he was a sex god." She said sarcastically as she placed a chip in her mouth. Leon couldn't help but look at her with doting eyes. A rush of nervousness spread in your system as you caught Leon staring at you like that. "L-leon?" You tried to snap him back but he wouldn't turn away, only giving you a teasing grin as he replayed your conversation in his head. "I'm glad you left him.." He sighed softly before putting his arm on the armrest. "You really deserve someone better who would actually treat you right, I mean who wouldn't want to be their best for you? Especially in bed.." He mumbled the last part.
"Someone like you..?" You hushed out your question but Leon turned his head to your question immediately. "I-I can't do that to you. I mean I don't want to ruin our friendship because of what I wan-" You cut him off after hearing him spew out nonsense. "Leon. I want you too y'know?"
You didn't think this would lead to Leon slowly parting your legs after gently taking off your panties to see your soaked cunt. "God.. You're so pretty for me sweetheart.." His fingers slowly rubbing up and down your folds, eliciting pornographic moans from your throat. Who knew your best friend would be the better man in bed than your ex? The thoughts of your ex slowly dissipated as you felt a warm sensation cover over your pussy. Leon's mouth. He couldn't help but taste you as a deep groan left his throat, your sweetness making his eyes roll back as he tongued at your folds. His eyelids slightly opened as he looked at you as he swirled his tongue. You were beautiful as he ate you out, in fact you were like a goddess. Moans and groans clashed against each other as the room was filled with wet sounds from Leon slowly fingering your pussy and licking your clit. Your fingers waving through his locks - slightly tugging at his hair as he drowned himself in your juices. "L-leon! 'm close oh f-fuck.." Her voice trembled as Leon continued to his hearts content, groaning out a few praises as he felt you tighten around his fingers. "You're taking it so well baby. So proud of you.." "Can't wait to see you do this on my cock.. you're so fuck.. gorgeous."
A coil slowly started to tighten in your stomach as you felt the stimulation of Leon's fingers curling into that sweet spot along with the quick sucks and swipes on your clit. "C'mon baby.. give it to me." He groaned as he rutted himself into the couch, his sweatpants feeling tight as he felt himself throb whilst devouring your sweet little cunt. "'m cumming! Leon!" Was all you could blabber out as the coil snapped and you felt yourself shake in Leon's grasp. His tongue still lapping at your clit, slightly overstimulating you as you felt your thighs tremble. Leon's fingers still continuing to curl inside of you as he licked up your cum, slowly putting his fingers in his mouth after cleaning the mess. "So fucking sweet for me." He kissed your inner thighs as he pulled himself up from between your legs.
Panting and sweating, you wearily lift up your head that was previously buried into the pillow, looking at him as you saw your slick on his chin. A slight smile appearing on your face. "What's so funny?" He looked at you confused with a grin on his face. "Nothing.." You snickered out as you saw his disheveled hair. Laughter slowly died down and you tugged on his sweatpants, looking at him with pleading eyes.
"Tonight's about you" He said as he kissed your neck, a slight whimper coming out of your mouth as you felt him bite down on you. "I wanna make you feel good too..." You murmured as you tugged on his shirt. Leon couldn't help but laugh slightly as he lifted himself up from your neck and looked into your eyes. "Yeah? You wanna make me feel good?" He teased as his hands slowly rode up your shirt, unclasping your bra and tossing it to the side. The pads of his fingers teasing your buds whilst his lips connected onto yours. A passionate kiss coming from both of you. You slowly break away, still determined to make him feel good - he can't help but accept the offer. He picks you up, a small yelp erupting from your throat as he takes you to his room.
"Can't say no to you, pretty girl.."
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pls don't steal my work :p
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sserasin · 24 days
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girlfriend stealer
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cw nsfw under cut, female reader, sunghoon watches, tribbing, voyeurism, exhibitonism, sunghoon is r’s bf, implied infidelity/previous wony x y/n relationship, degradation (wony to hoon), mommy kink, squirting
this is a fantasy ive been having for the last couple of weeks so i needed to write it
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“right there,” wonyoung breathes out as she starts grinding her pussy down on yours. your hand clamps over your mouth to prevent them from hearing you whimper at the slick drag of your clits rubbing together. “a-ah, y— you learning, h—hoonie?” somehow, her voice is still condescending even as she’s clearly struggling to control her own moans.
the squelching sound fills the room, echoing in sunghoon’s ears as his eyes are switching back and forth from your face to your pussy being rubbed against wonyoung’s. he honestly has no clue how the two of you got here with wonyoung. all he knows is you were trying to stop wonyoung from talking to sunghoon before she dragged both of you in your room, and here he was. watching his girlfriend cum because of his mc partner.
his members have joked multiple times before that wonyoung would steal you from him, the two of you spending more time together than you with him. sometimes, he even regretted introducing you two to each other— before you two started dating so you would be able to meet her and not feel threatened by her like most would.
you, obviously, weren’t most. in fact, you liked wonyoung a little too much. and he knew he wasn’t imagining things when he caught her hand on your thigh. the times you two went to the restroom together under the guise of it being safer… how could he not know?
“you don’t want your boyfriend to hear you?” wonyoung stares down at you, noticing how you avoid her gaze. she’s quick to grab your jaw in her hand, forcing you to look at her. “hear how you sound when you’re actually being pleasured?” lowering her face down to be near yours, she turns your head along with hers to look at sunghoon, who is stuck on his computer chair with his hand awkwardly positioned on top of his crotch. which makes no difference, both of you can tell he has a boner. “go ahead and tell him. how he may have a pretty face and a big dick, but none of it’s any use if he doesn’t know how to use it.”
she reaches back and spreads open your folds a little before lowering herself back down, the new closeness making you moan loudly, forgetting about hiding it. her hips start to relentlessly rut against yours, a switch between grinding and quick circles on your clit. sunghoon’s mouth falls open, blinking rapidly at the switch of events as he feels his cock throb in his pants at wonyoung’s words.
your jaw slackens at how quickly you felt a tightening in your stomach as your legs began to tremble, high pitched ‘ah’ leaving your lips, “w—won—”
“that’s not what you call me,” wonyoung huffs out quickly. “say it.”
you don’t even bother arguing, “mommy, mommy please please let me cum—”
sunghoon doesn’t realize when he put his hand down his pants, stroking himself at the same pace as your pussies rubbing together. his mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he distantly realizes in the back of his head that you call her mommy— insinuating this has happened before— before dismissing it as he realizes you’re getting closer to coming. quicker than he’s ever made you cum.
one of wonyoung’s hands reach to pull your thigh up for your knees to touch your chest, holding your legs apart for a new angle. the pose leaves you feeling exposed, blinking back tears of pleasure. your hands grip for something to hold, falling to her thighs as you wildly buck your hips.
“you’re— still— holding— back,” wonyoung says through her moans, pressing harder on your leg and making your muscles burn. “don’t you wanna be a good girl for mommy?” her lips curve into a pretty smile as pants left her mouth, staring at you from under her eyelashes. “then come.”
a high pitched scream leaves your lips as yours walls clench around nothing. your skin was covered in a mixture of yours and wonyoung’s juices as yours squirt out of you. a half choked moan leaves sunghoon’s mouth as he comes with a weak thrust up into his hand, soiling the front of his pants.
your legs are painfully twitching as she slowly holds herself up off you, eyes flickering to sunghoon, “don’t you want to learn? come here.”
and he listens.
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff
Length: 5400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.
He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."
"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.
"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."
Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."
Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong. 
"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.
"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."
"Okay, but-"
"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"
You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now. 
Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."
You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head. 
"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."
"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.
"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."
"Bradley, I don't want that one either."
He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"
"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."
He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."
You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."
He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.
"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"
"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air. 
"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.
"I'm pregnant!" 
"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"
He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.
Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo." 
He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."
You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."
-----------------------
You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."
Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."
He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"
"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose. 
"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence. 
You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."
"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."
"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."
He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"
You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"
With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."
And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.
"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"
"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."
"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."
"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.
"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."
Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"
"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."
"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"
Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."
You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself. 
Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."
"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."
Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."
-----------------------------
Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day. 
But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable. 
"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."
You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."
"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"
You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."
"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.
"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."
Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."
"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."
"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."
You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers. 
"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 
He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."
As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?
He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."
"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."
"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."
You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."
------------------------------
"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"
He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."
You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.
As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."
"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."
You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"
"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."
He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."
You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs. 
"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."
You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession. 
"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley. 
He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath. 
"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"
You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."
Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum. 
"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going. 
It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.
You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.
He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"
You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch. 
"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?" 
You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."
He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"
"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.
"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."
"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."
He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back. 
"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."
"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck. 
You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.
It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."
Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."
You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly. 
"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart." 
When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked. 
He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.
"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."
You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him. 
He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"
"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."
"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."
A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.
"You can't stop touching me, can you?"
"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."
"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early. 
"What?"
Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face. 
"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.
If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up. 
"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.
"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."
--------------------------
A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 28
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youryanderedaddy · 2 months
Text
Tw: female reader, slight dub-con to con, degradation, sex toys pt.1 Happy Valentine's 💞💞💞
Bitchy mean girl, who basically forces you to come to her house every weekend with the pretext that she needs tutoring - and who's more fitting to help her fix her grades than her favourite little nerd?
You actually come prepared too, pink cutesy backpack stuffed with textbooks, footnotes, highlights and colourful markers. But the moment you step inside her house and Jess sees the sheer academic arsenal you've prepared, she burst into torching, mocking laughter. She flicks at your forehead, wiping off a single tear.
"You really thought we were going to study?" She scoffs, dragging you into her lap - smirking as she watches you panic and whine to be let go. She kisses you roughly, determined to get your lips fully wet and shiny, saliva dripping down your chin once she finally pulls away. "You're more stupid than I thought." The cheerleader grins with endearment. "You're lucky you're so cute."
She takes hold of both your thighs and spreads them apart, leering at the lacy white panties peeking underneath your skirt.
"Looks like you came prepared after all." Jess taunts, playing with the flimsy, frilly pink lining - toying with the little ribon in the middle of it. "Maybe deep down you knew this would happen." She grips your jawline, forcing your head up - eyes set on her lips. "Or ma-aybe... you were actually hoping it would." Her hand slips to your neck. "Which one is it, little slut?"
"N-no, it's not like that!" You try to defend yourself, cheeks heating up by the second. "I-I, I wasn't, I didn't-" You stumble all over your words - but your body betrays you, back arching wantonly as Jess brushes a single finger across your clothed slit. Giggling with content at your desperation, she starts rubbing you over your panties, enjoying the way you squirm and shake your head as if fighting the pleasure.
"You weren't what, nerd? You weren't trying to get yourself fucked like a proper whore?" The girl all but hisses down your throat, biting at your jugular - letting her lips soothe the initial sting. "You weren't trying to be all slutty and cute, making me want you?" You can feel her fingers finally, finally make their way down the elastic band, cupping your mound before the first digit slips inside you, forcing a lewd, breathy moan out of you. "You're so wet for me, yet you keep acting like you don't want it."
Her lips stretch into a thin, self evident smirk as she reaches for something in her pocket you can't make out from beneath her. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes still glassy from her teasing - both anxious and excited to see what's next.
"I have just the right thing for a little bratty bitch like you." Jess pulls you into yet another messy, sloppy kiss, grinning at the sight of your chin stained all over by her bright red lipstick. It makes you look so... hers. "Let's see how long you can hide your true feelings once I have you coming your brains out." She says, teeth bared with a sadistic little gleam in her dark blue eyes. You hear a buzzing sound - and then your vision fills with blurry lines and stars and raw, red - hot pleasure you can feel deep in your guts.
The cheerleader nests the small vibrator snugly against your clit, setting your nerves on fire. It's all too much - her soft, delicate hands touching you all over, the dirty whispers in your ear egging you on, the waves of ecstasy flooding your body each and every second. You try to catch your breath, but every time you open your mouth, the sounds that come out are all whiner and needier than the last.
"Aww, you're already doing so good for me, baby." Jess coos, head resting against your shoulder - holding you down tightly as your body writhes and jumps as if devoid of any control. "See? It's so much better to be honest." She presses the vibrator down once again, watching your button swell and twitch in overstimulation. "Let go completely." She licks your neck, driving you even wilder. "Let me make you mine, m'kay?"
And you think, hell, you might as well.
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