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#Depends on how far the two got :P
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Joy’s Writing Prompt #7
Whumpee is so exhilarated with the feeling of freedom from Whumper they don’t realize something is wrong with their rescuer, Caretaker, until they collapse behind Whumpee who is quite suddenly brought off their high. 
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rninies · 4 months
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✮ sleeping over - gojo satoru
synopsis: gojo satoru finally convinces you to stay over his place.
warnings: fluff, gn!reader, pouty gojo, reader loves teasing him — wc: 698
notes: new fic after idk how many days yipee hey people
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satoru dislikes staying at home sometimes. it’s not about how fancy his house is or even how comfortable it is. no, it’s about not having you in the house. he loves your company a lot and is always so dependent on you. he loves hugging you, kissing you, touching you — satoru loves your presence so much that he feels like he can’t live without you (it’s such an exaggeration you say to him when he says that to you).
“y/n, baby, honey,” satoru whines. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back down onto his lap as you are about to stand up. “are you going to stay over tonight?”
“…mm, maybe next time,” you reply, and satoru groans.
“you always say next time, though.” satoru pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. “come on. just this once. we’ve been dating for four months now! it’s gotta happen someday.” the way he tightens his grip on your waist is a silent beg for you to stay. “please?”
you sigh, finally giving in. “okay, fine.” satoru gasps, happy. “but you will be taking care of dinner tonight.”
“okay!” satoru says in excitement. “what do you want? sushi? pizza? pasta? say anything and you’ll get it!”
you stifled a laugh. “hm, you can just make anything you want. i don’t mind.”
“okay. i’ll make us some kitsune udon.” satoru says. you nod in agreement.
satoru lets go of you, allowing you to move away from him. he takes the ingredients out and starts cooking. you silently admire satoru from the couch, looking at him cutting up the ingredients, boiling the water, and waiting for the udon to finish. as soon as he finishes, he sets the two bowls down on the table, clapping his hands in satisfaction.
“dinner’s ready!” satoru exclaims. you stand up, the smell of kitsune udon filling your nose. “mm, it smells amazing, toru!”
“of course it does.” satoru smugly says. “i’m the best cook after all. the best one you’ll ever meet in the entire world.”
“pft-” you giggled. “yeah, okay whatever you say, master chef satoru.” satoru frowns, not taking the insult (as he would call it) very well. however, instead of refuting you, he sits down at the left side of the table, far from you, and starts eating quietly. “why are you sitting so far away from me?”
“no reason why.” satoru shrugs, continuing to eat his udon. “why? you got a problem with that?”
you suppress the smile from forming on your face, knowing the reason behind this. “no. just wondering why.”
satoru frowns once more, upset at the lack of reaction. he stands up and sits next to you, slamming his bowl on the table, and spilling a little bit of the soup. “i can never get to you can i?”
“nope.” you say, popping the ‘p’. “you’re just too cute when you’re mad.”
“i hate you,” satoru mumbles. “i hate you with my every soul. i regret inviting you to stay over.”
“yeah, okay,” you say, finishing your udon. “wanna watch a movie after this?”
“yes.” satoru replies immediately. you both finish your meal, satoru immediately takes your bowl to wash it. “you can go pick the movie. if you pick the same barbie movie-”
“i am definitely watching barbie: princess charm school,” you say and rush to the couch. satoru chases after you and the both of you grab the remote, fighting over it. “hey-! come on, give me the remote, toru!”
“no way! i am not watching that movie for the tenth time this week and it’s only tuesday!” satoru says. “let me watch something i’ve been wanting to watch already! come on, let’s watch horror!”
“no way!” you exclaim, pulling the remote harder. “you know how much i hate horror! you’re the one who asked me to pick the movie for tonight so you better let me watch barbie!”
satoru pulls the remote back and it actually leaves your hand, making you lose your balance. you gasp, trying to catch your balance but you fail. satoru quickly catches you and the both of you fall on the couch. unsurprisingly, you fall on top of satoru, to which he is very happy about. “hey.” he says with a smile on his face.
“don’t say anything.” you frowned, though you were in a really comfortable position. “don’t move, actually. i’m really comfortable.”
“what?” satoru laughs. “at least let me be comfortable.” he holds you gently as he moves back to the couch. “there. and since i’m a nice host, i’ll let you watch barbie.”
“really? yeay!” your eyes sparkled happily. you grab the remote and play it. “just admit you like this movie. it’s a fun one!”
“yeah, sure.” satoru’s eyes are on you, watching the pretty smile on your face widen as the introduction to the movie starts. “i do like it.”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul (send an ask to be added!) <3
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st-eve-barnes · 6 months
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Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)
Chapter 1
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Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?
Word count: +2300
Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.
Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol) I haven't watched Saltburn yet so all characters in this fic except for Michael are my own.
Chapter 2 will be posted next week and the plan is to post weekly, there will be 4-5 chapters (depending on how far the muse takes me)
***
All my fics are also on AO3
***
You should have known something was off the second Ben sat down in front of you in the library that morning. You two hadn’t spoken since you’d broken up, some 6 months ago now. The split had been amicable but neither of you had felt the need to pretend to remain friends afterwards. He was a stranger to you now and you preferred it that way.
You both moved in different social circles in the university these days, meaning he was living his dream as a popular fuck boy getting drunk every night and you spent most nights in your dorm room focusing on your studying.
“I need a favor,” he bluntly started the conversation.
“No,” you answered without looking up from your book.
“I think you should hear me out first.”
“Ben, we haven’t spoken in months,” you sighed,”What makes you think I would help you now?”
He leaned closer to you over the table, making you lean back to keep the distance between you two.
“The firm I’ve been dreaming of getting into is offering an internship to whoever scores highest on this upcoming test,” he explained.
“Great, you should start hitting the books then.”
“It’s no use.”
“Why not? I thought you were so smart?”
“I am so smart,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes,”But not as smart as him.”
You looked up and noticed he wasn’t looking at you anymore but his gaze was drawn to the guy sitting a few tables away. You recognized him instantly: ugly outdated shirt, even uglier beige cargo pants and big glasses on his nose, buried into his books as usual. The biggest nerd on campus and beyond: Michael Gavey.
“He’s your competition?” you snorted,”Good luck with that!”
“Luck won’t help me, that’s why I need your help.”
“What on earth am I going to do? I suck at math, you know that.”
“That’s not why I need you,” he shook his head and sighed,”A job at that firm is my dream, it’s what I’ve always wanted and worked towards for the past two years.”
“And if you pass that test you’ll get it.”
“Nobody can beat Gavey, everyone knows the guy’s a fucking genius.”
“Then he deserves the internship, don’t you think?”
”He can literally get any job he chooses, I need this one and I won’t let that freak take it from me.”
For the first time you leaned forward and looked into his eyes, indulging him and giving into your own curiosity.”What do you want from me then?”
“Look at him, I bet that guy’s never even had a girl look at him twice, especially not a pretty girl like you, that dude’s got virgin written all over him, hasn’t he?”
“How is that any of your business, Ben? Maybe he’s not even interested in girls, you ever though of that?” you opted, deliberately ignoring his compliment.
“Oh, believe me he’s interested, I’ve seen him stare when he thinks nobody’s looking. He may pretend to be above all that but the fucker is just as horny as the rest of us.”
“Speak for yourself.” You leaned back and kept your eyes on him while you crossed your arms,”You still haven’t told me what you want from me.”
“I was thinking, having a pretty girl like you pay attention to him might take his mind off all this studying, a distraction like that could kill a man’s entire focus.”
“Only a man who thinks with his dick.”
He smirked at you,”Or a man who’s never had his dick touched.”
“You’re fucking disgusting."
He lifted his hands in innocence,”I just want you to distract the guy a little, make him forget about stupid tests and internships so I can have a fighting chance.”
”You want me to fuck him,” you realized.
He gave you a lazy smirk, his gaze hardening suddenly,“I want you to do whatever it takes to ruin him.”
The words left his mouth so casually and easily it was making you nervous.
“You’re mad, there’s no way. Ask one of the whores you always hang out with, I’m sure there’s plenty…”
“I’ve asked, none of them want him.”
You sighed, annoyed.”Of course they don’t.”
“I need it to be you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only one I can convince to do this.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that and you shook your head,”You’re out of your mind if you think I would even consider…”
He didn’t let you finish your sentence but instead shoved a photo towards you on the table.
“What is this?”
“This is what I would call leverage.”
You looked at him in confusion,”This is just a blurry picture, what am I supposed to be looking at?”
He smirked at you,”Do you remember that one night we got insanely crazy drunk and I borrowed my roommate’s camera?”
It was only then that you realized what you were watching. It was a picture of a video. A video of a night you had tried very hard to erase from your memory, a night you wished had never happened.
“You kept that?” you asked quietly, the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach quickly growing. 
“It never left my computer,” he said as if it was something to be proud of,”And I guess…we’d both like it to stay on there wouldn’t we? And not…get lost on the internet or around university or something, I mean…I imagine you wouldn’t want that, right?”
You looked at him in complete disbelief and your voice was shaking with your next words,”You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t do that.”
His dark eyes stayed locked on yours,”Don’t doubt that I will do whatever it takes to get what I want, sweetheart.”
You shivered at the cold determination in his tone.
“I’m sorry,” he added,” but I need you to do what I ask if you want that video to stay with me. Get to know Gavey, make him believe you’re interested, how far you take it…is entirely up to you. Just make it work.”
****
You found Michael in his same spot in the library the next day, leaning on his elbow while he was taking notes in one of his many text books. 
For a few moments you just watched him from a distance, watched how enthralled he was in his work, how focussed his eyes were on the pages in front of him, how he kept pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in concentration. If the world around him caught on fire right now he probably wouldn’t even notice, all he had eyes for were the numbers in front of him. Ben was right to fear him, this guy’s focus was top-tier, it would take a lot more than a silly girl like yourself to break it. 
But what choice did you have? You had to try.
You stood frozen for a while, uncertain as to how you were going to proceed. You didn’t want to be here and just the thought of what you had to do made your stomach turn. But Ben had left you with no other choice. If that video ever saw the light of day it was over for you.
You swallowed your nerves and walked up to Michael’s table and took a seat opposite him, trying to act both casual and confident. But you were too nervous to pull either of those off.
You cleared your throat before you spoke,”Hey.”
Michael didn’t react, he didn’t even flinch, making you think he hadn’t heard you at all. 
You opened your mouth to speak again but he beat you to it,”What do you want?”
He was still writing and didn’t bother to look up at you.
“Michael?” you asked carefully,”Michael Gavey?”
“You know my name, congratulations, what do you want?”
Your heart sank. How were you ever going to distract this guy when he didn’t even acknowledge your presence? How were you in any position to get his attention when he wasn’t even interested enough to grant you a simple glance?
This was going to be a lot harder than you thought.
“I need a tutor,” you blurted out.
“I’m not your guy,” he answered immediately with a small shake of his head.
“So you’re not the smartest guy on campus then? Shit, I must have been misinformed,” you tried to lighten the mood and it seemed to work.
His lips curled up into the tiniest of smiles but it was gone as quickly as it appeared,”Flattery doesn’t work on me.”
“Flattery works on everyone. Come on.”
He was shaking his head again all the while still writing things down in his notebook, determined to keep up his act of ignoring you and it was starting to piss you off.
“It’s rude not to look at people when they talk to you, you know?” 
Michael just shrugged his shoulders,”Tutoring is a waste of my time, go find someone else.”
“You’re the smartest guy here.”
“I already told you, flattery will get you nowhere.”
“I can pay you,” you blurted out and just like that you had his attention. He stopped writing and put his pen down, finally looking up to meet your eyes.
“Right,” he sighed,”Because money opens every door, does it?” 
His gaze was hard and his lips pursed in a thin line, he was clearly annoyed with you.
“No, that’s not…”
”You rich pricks think money will buy you everything your little heart desires. It’s fucking pathetic.”
“That’s not what I meant…I’m not…” you sighed, defeated as you watched Michael pack up his notebooks and rise from his seat.
“Piss off, spoilt little rich girl and ask one of your rich friends to tutor you. I am not your guy.”
And that was it. You failed before you even had the chance to really try. You weren’t one to give up easily but after that interaction you had no hope of ever getting close to Michael Gavey. The guy was rude and insufferable and clearly not interested in you in any way.
You tried to carry on with your days after that but the weight of Ben’s threat was hanging over your shoulders and dragging you down, making you anxious every day. You were frustrated at the power he still held over you. And even more frustrated by the fact that there was nothing you could do about it.
Your mind was somewhere else entirely when you started your shift at the local pizza place that Thursday night. At least work gave you something to do and keep yourself busy instead of eating yourself up with worry every night. When the manager called asking if you were available for some extra shifts that week you jumped at the chance.
You were working on automatic pilot that night, making your way through the tables and taking clients orders when you arrived at his table.
“Good evening, sir, how may I help you tonight?”
It was only when you looked up and the person in front of you lowered his menu that you recognized him. Gavey.
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when his eyes met yours, a flash of recognition running across his face.
“It’s…you,” he realized and looking at your name plate he called you by your name.
“Yes, it’s me, hi,” you sighed, trying to stay polite even though he had been so rude to you last time. God, please, don’t let him be a difficult customer, you were not in the mood for this tonight. “What can I get for you, Michael?” you asked with your best customer service smile.
Much to your surprise Michael returned your smile with one of his own, a little awkward and probably as forced as yours but at least he wasn’t calling you names or yelling at you this time. And instead of avoiding your eyes he couldn’t seem to look away from you tonight.
“You…work here?” he asked, confused,”I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I usually only work the weekends, I’m filling in for a sick colleague tonight,” you explained,”The extra money is always welcome, you know.”
“You’re not…you’re not one of them,” he realized, his voice softer than you had ever heard it.
“One of who?” 
“Those vapid rich cunts you always hang out with.”
And just like that he was making it harder to remain polite again.
“They’re just my class mates, Michael, they’re not friends. Unlike some people I am mature enough to be civilized and polite to people even if I don’t like them much. It’s called being an adult, you should try it some time.”
Michael was quiet, his eyes dropping down to the menu before he gave you his order and sank back down into his seat. You almost felt sorry for him seeing him sit there all alone while most people were out with friends tonight.
Almost. Maybe if the guy wasn’t such a dick all the time he’d have friends to have dinner with and not look like such a loser.
When you returned with his food shortly after he just gave you a polite nod and a quiet “Thank you”, which you reciprocated with a quick nod of your own.
“You didn’t spit into my food, did you?” he then asked, making you turn back around.
“No,” you sighed,”I wouldn’t do that. Not even to you.”
He smiled weakly,“Not even when I deserve it?”
You couldn’t help your lips from curling up into a little smile at his unexpected admission of guilt,”No, not even then.”
“Thanks,” he nodded quickly.
“Enjoy your food.”
When you came to his table later to clean up you found a napkin properly folded with your name written on it. You opened it to find a generous tip inside and a message: “Food was excellent, customer service needs some work”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes,”Fucking asshole.” But then you read the next line:
“PS If you still want that tutor meet me in the library tomorrow night at 8”
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yunhoszn · 26 days
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to hell with it
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pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
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“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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rosedom · 1 month
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lyney with k, l, m, p, and s please ... i beg ... ibneedmore lyney 🅰️🅰️🅰️🅰️
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"you have summoned LYNEY for the event . . ."
A/N : the first time i read this, i read "ibneedmore lyney" as some type of horny-key-smash "i need to breed lyney" lmfaoo
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✦ㅤㅤK = kink (one or more of his kinks)
lyney has quite the penchant for lingerie—i mean, c'mon ! he wears garters on the regular. be it soft lace, a deep maroon or lavender or any other color, lyney looks downright divine in anything he dons. while he may forgo the brasserie most times, he will wear one every now and then, if only to "complete" the look. but, fuck, his favorite? his favorite are, undeniably, crotchless panties. there's just something so—so enticing to him, about being so dressed up for you yet with absolutely nothing standing in the way of you ravaging his body. like this, you can suck him off, eat him out, fuck him in any way you way—all without taking off that pretty attire.
all prettied up, easy access: that's lyney's motto. and, hey—if you like it, too, then that's just an added bonus :3
additionally, he's super into overstimulation. this one ties into his stamina, below; but lyney's oh-so sensitive, and he wants you to just keep going and going and going until he's passed out or boneless (or both !) but, oh, the idea of being all dressed up in those crotchless panties n' garters spread up his thighs and across his belly, cunt and cock aflame in a puffy, ruddy red—mm . . . if you don't want him, i do.
✦ㅤㅤL = location (favorite places to do the do)
there are a myriad of places that lyney would love for you to take him—and take him in. for such an actor, he's not into exhibitionism; he wants these moments to remain private, only between the two of you, the romantic. however, that doesn't mean sex is restricted to the bedroom; oh, goodness no. be it the opera epiclese itself—the two of you sharing secret touches before or after a show—or his home—the one he shares with lynette and fremi, you both quiet as mice as you ruin him a mere wall away from his siblings—, lyney is down for anything.
but, favorite-wise: it's the bed. he's a romantic at heart, c'mon ! of course he'd love the intimacy of being pressed into the same bed he and you sleep in at night, the bed he wakes up in . . . it does crazy things to his heart.
✦ㅤㅤM = motivation (what turns him on and really gets him going)
his need doesn't translate into the bedroom as often as you may think. honestly, he's far more content cuddling with you most nights ! but that doesn't mean he's invulnerable to your advances . . . oh, no: lyney is quite open to them. all you need to do is tug him close, nip at the tip of his ear—that's what it takes to make his knees go weak and make his cock begin to throb. a small bite, lick, kiss right to that sensitive spot; it simply makes him melt into you, a puddle of arousal wherever you are. your breath against his ear is all he needs to start to drag you somewhere more private: his dressing room, a closet, wherever he can get your hands on him !
so, the ear thing, for one; but lyney can be turned on on a dime with certain phrases, too. sayin', "my pretty boy," instead of, "you look pretty !" when he asks you about his outfit; or murmuring, "i got you, sweetheart," when you catch him from tripping up or the likes whenever you're out together. any innocent phrase can so easily make his blood singe depending on how reminiscent it is of you in the bedroom. you calling him a good boy when he does something right—something entirely unsexual, thank you !—, it does things to him, okay??
and whether or not you're doing these things on purpose to sweet, poor lyney . . . well, that's up to you .3.
✦ㅤㅤP = pace (does he prefer fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
lyney's very, very eager; he moves and paws at you like he wants it faster, faster, faster. but, really, he just wants you: in every single way he can get it, greedily and desperately. so many things (so many people) have been taken from his life, and he doesn't want you to be the next; but, if, god forbid, you are, he wants to have you here and now—he wants the memory of your touch against him for as long as he can have it; he wants to savor you the best he can, memorize your face, your lips, your cock . . . ahem.
"faster, faster !" he'll beg, even as you're pumping into him quick 'nuff to make the bed—or whatever surface it is that you're fucking him on or against—creak, even as he rides you fast and hard . . . it's all a gamble to get you all over him, all in him: a bid for you, you, you. "please, faster !"
it'll be hard not to abide his sweet requests, but do not be fooled, in the end. "easy, kitty, easy," you'll need to soothe, all because of this deep-rooted fear of his; all because he's so, so terrified of losing you. regardless of pace, of how hard and rough or gentle and soft you are—lyney just needs to know that you're here, and that you're staying. (hopefully forever.)
✦ㅤㅤS = stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)
after all those magic shows he performs, lyney's built up quite the endurance; however, he's loathe to use it all. he is the epitome of a bratty lil' pillow prince, begging for your touch with that pretty, teasing voice of his and the enticing spread of his plush thighs. it's all pretty whines for more, to just "c'mon, and fuck me !"
for all that stamina, though, he sure is quick to meet his ends—over and over and over again.
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yes !! i'm still doing these !! i didn't forget !! i'm not even a fourth done ,, i apologize. i am working on other things too (namely an omegaverse ask, which i hope to do in two parts: pt 1 with ae, and pt 2 with tighnari !!).
19 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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sinsofsummers · 11 months
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cool about it
3.4k | boston!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: it’s that day again. you don’t know why joel’s so withdrawn, but you help him manage it in the best way you know how. based on 'cool about it' by boygenius. warnings: angst angst angst, angsty smut (sorry), 18+, mdni, implied age gap (joel 50s, reader late 20s) grumpy & sad joel, drug use, alcohol use, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, shoulder kisses, pet names & slight praise, body worship kind of, feelings but also joel is bad at feelings, established...situationship. thing. pining (but don't tell them that). romance?? how dare you accuse them of such treachery note: i am so sorry...this is pure unbridled self-indulgence. pls forgive me. also this is set in boston qz, reader and joel have a similar relationship to the one he has with tess, but she doesn't exist in this au (i'm so sorry). also i am kind of so proud of this one
It's been years since you met him, since you've begun to crack his otherwise hard exterior, helping him shed every icy layer to reveal the tired, aging man beneath it all. You've both gone to unbelievable lengths to protect one another against any trouble, or enemy, or plague, that has cast itself in your way. Each night concludes with your limbs tangled together, hands tucked safely within each other's reach. A promise, so quiet it's hardly binding—I've got you.
You've never defined exactly what it means when he calls you sweet pea, or when his lips drop a chaste kiss to your forehead in the morning, or when his hand lingers on your elbow a little longer than normal in the QZ. It never needed to mean anything, so the two of you never spoke about it. You belong to him; he belongs to you.
And yet, every year, on the exact same morning, Joel Miller wakes up a stranger to you. His eyes return to the icy dark depths that you met him with, and his hands find purchase in his pockets rather than absentmindedly rubbing circles on your skin. Every year, without fail, he retreats to his past, a place he won't ever let you see, despite your every wish.
i came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask
A few years after you met him, you had tried asking him to explain, to let you into his head. It wasn't an attempt at intimacy, or a vulnerability that resembled anything that you hadn't seen from him before, but he'd done nothing more than shake his head.
"M'fine," he'd said. The entire day, every time you asked, no matter how softly, his answer remained unchanged. "Don't feel much like talkin'."
So instead of talking, you'd resorted to letting him come back to you on his own time, in his own way. With rough hands pushing you down to lay on your back, his eyes far away even as he brought you to the edges of bittersweet ecstasy. His kisses were always softer, more distracted. But it was the only communication you ever got out of him on those days.
When he rolled over at night, his hands curled into loose fists, you let him be. He never refused your touch, but you knew enough to recognize when it wouldn't come as any comfort to him. Not on those nights. Never on those nights.
The closest you'd get to falling asleep in his arms on those nights was with a hand placed purposefully between your chest and his back, just close enough that he might lean into it, should he shift in his sleep. And in those soft brushes of skin against cloth lay a million questions.
Forgive me, you'd begged inwardly one night. Forgive me for not understanding, and I'll forgive you for not sharing.
When the sun rose on a new morning, he was always back to the man you were used to, that you had grown dependent on. When his hands reached for you, and when his mouth painted swirls on your chest, you knew that it was out of want for you, not to distract himself from the ghosts of his own past.
He always praised your body's reaction to him, and you always relished in the way that his hips rocked against yours, stretching you out for him—tongue, fingers, his hard intrusion—on those mornings after.
You'd left it at that, for a year or two.
once i took your medication to know what it's like
He'd been resorting to more intense solutions when you decided to do it. When that day came as it always did, you watched as he drowned out the hours with whiskey and pills. You never knew where his supply came from or who was responsible for getting him his drug of choice; you could only sit idly by and watch his features droop from the effects of the dangerous combination, shuffling to your shared bed before he'd pass out until the sun rose on the next morning.
It only took three instances of this before you'd resolved to go through the day exactly as he would, as if it might help you understand. Perhaps it wasn't anything you were meant to understand, but you'd grown weary of seeing him motionless for hours on end. Usually, you never said anything. You didn't really believe he would take enough to cause any real damage; you were blindly faithful in his will to live.
"Joel," you'd said one year. That was all. One syllable, so familiar, and yet it bled with enough warning in your tone that he paused. Don't.
Glass raised, the rim already pressed to his lips—the lips of which you knew every crack and curve—pills already dissolving on his tongue, he'd paused. His eyes never looked at you, though. He sat there, frozen but for the whiskey sloshing gently in the glass before he resumed, swallowing the dark liquid in one go. With hardly a glance in your direction, he'd collapsed to the bed.
You didn't know exactly why you did it, or why it had been that year that you'd become fed up, but you couldn't ignore the fear that struck your chest when you saw him hit the mattress. Before you knew it, you'd swallowed the pills, scowling at the burn of whiskey down your throat.
It had never been your choice of liquor, but you braved the sting in your foolish hopes that it might tell you something about the gray-haired man in your bed. Like drinking his whiskey might envelope you in his arms and whisper his secrets to you.
Laying down beside him, you'd curled up to his side. He was already deep in his drugged slumber; he wouldn't be conscious enough to move from your touch. With a hand on his chest, poised over his heart to reassure yourself that he still had one, you closed your eyes and succumbed to the heavy press of sleep.
When he woke, saw your own empty glass and pill bottle left open on the table, he shook you until you startled awake. Eyes bleary, the effects of the drugs wearing off, you caught him staring down at you, his nose brushing your cheek and his lips a hair's breadth from touching yours.
"Don't ever fuckin' do that again, sweet pea," he snarled, but his words held no malice. You tried to ignore how big his eyes were, pupils blown wide.
You'd wanted to snap at him, to tell him the same thing, but you heard the desperate begging in his voice. The unspoken please. So rather than causing a scene, you'd nodded slowly and let your fingers brush the hem of his shirt. "Okay," you'd whispered. "I won't. Never again, Joel," you repeated, a mantra as you slipped your hands underneath his shirt.
Sliding his arms under your body and pulling you to him, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, both of your eyelids. He finally bent to your lips, chasing the taste of you and finding only his own mistakes on your tongue.
The day had passed. He had survived. With the gentle lull of his hips slotting against your own, he had breathed shakily into your mouth as your hands wandered along his skin. Like clockwork, Joel Miller had returned to you, if only for a short while.
i ask you how you're doing, and i let you lie
One day, the pills ran out. The whiskey didn't do anything on its own, so Joel was stuck to find something else to distract him. Whether you were the one that flushed his pills or found who was supplying him, you'd never admit. It was much too close to a confession of something than either of you were comfortable with, so you'd stayed quiet. Helped him find a new vice.
These days, you've lost count of how many years you've seen him withdraw into himself, a shell of the man you know. You've stopped trying to follow where his mind goes when the sun rises on that early autumn day, and he's never made the attempt to explain. For just one day a year, the two of you are silent except for a few mumbled words. Your hands rarely touch on those days, always a few centimeters from each other as he sits at the table.
A reminder. That you're there, that he's there, and that the day will pass. It always does.
His new vice becomes you before long, and you can manage that. He's never particularly rough on those days, anyway; he just needs your body to distract his mind. It takes him a bit to sink into the comfort of your curves, but you always help him get there. Until he's twitching under your hands and letting his eyes flutter closed as you expertly undo his jeans.
You never make him fuck you when he's like this, but you're happy to oblige when he slips a hand between your thighs, reaching for your core and always finding it ready for him. If it pleases him, you let him take whatever he needs.
With whispered moans that make your chest constrict and rough fingers pressing bruises to your hips that he'll kiss away the next morning, he gets through the day.
Today, you know it's not one of those mornings. He's already been awake for a while when you open your eyes, based on his tense posture as he sits on the edge of the bed. He's facing the window, which means his back is to you, withholding his face from yours.
Of course, you don't need to look at him to know what his face will look like. His chin is tucked toward his chest, and his eyes will be closed, hands clenched together as if in prayer. But you know better than to think of Joel Miller as a spiritual man. Whatever faith he might have had all those years ago has withered into scraps. His only faith is in your constant presence in his bed each night.
You sit up slowly, and the sound of rustling sheets makes him twitch his head to the side, the sight of his jaw ticking the only acknowledgement of you being there. With slow movements, you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his hips but never close enough to touch. He's gotten better at allowing for a few more moments of contact, and you think this means he's making progress.
How could you ever be sure, though? When he still won't reveal the pain of today?
"Did you wake up to see the sunrise?" you ask gently, leaning forward and bracing your hands in front of you, waiting. His response will determine how you'll distract him for the coming hours.
As usual, Joel doesn't say anything, but his back reclines an inch. It's all you need.
"I'll bet it was real pretty," you continue, trying to keep your voice soft. This is one of your many routines; you lift your hands and press them to his back, just enough for him to feel your fingertips. You don't know if he listens to anything you say, or if he even cares. This part is just for you. This is how you get through these days.
You lean just a bit further, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. Your hands slide around his middle and your stomach flips selfishly at the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath your featherlight touch. Reaching down for his lap, you rest your palm against his jeans, feeling him twitch against your hand. There he is.
Maybe it's sad, maybe it's fucked up, but fuck what anyone else would say. This is what he needs, the only thing that helps him stay out of his nightmarish memories, whatever they may be. You'll never ask him to show that side of himself, not anymore.
Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you deftly work the button on his jeans, pushing the zipper down and reaching into his waistband until his half-hard cock comes free. It rests heavy in your hand, and you're comforted by the weight of it. His shoulders are too broad for you to see it, but you're not bothered by this. With another kiss, this one landing on the soft skin of his neck, you give him a languid stroke.
Joel's chest rises and falls as he breathes, and you can feel his arousal stirring as he grows firmer in your grip. His hands begin to unclench, but his fingers remain flat on his tights, never touching you outside of where your legs are hooked to his, your chest flush with his back.
The room is silent except for his breathing, every second getting more shallow. You can feel the tension in his back release a little, and you let your thumb rub a slow circle over the slit on his tip, precum just starting to leak onto your hand.
You stay like this for a few minutes, one arm wrapped around his stomach and your other hand on his cock, tugging slow enough not to overwhelm him, and fast enough to keep him pulsing in your hand.
Only when his hips buck involuntarily do you let go, moving from your place behind him to the floor. Your knees hit the wood hard, but you ignore the pain as your hands slide up his thighs.
His own hands remain still on his jeans, and he lets you interlock your fingers with his own. A small mercy. Today might not be as bad as the years before, and you dip your head to lick a stripe from base to tip before closing your mouth around the head of his cock.
Joel's fingers twitch in your grasp, and you squeeze back, hardly noticeable. Just enough to act as thanks. Thank you for letting me do this. For you.
You never look up, afraid of what his eyes will betray when your mouth is around him. You know this is only a distraction, a slow respite from his thoughts. So you ignore the impatient pulse between your thighs and take him as deep as he'll go, your hopes lifting when you hear his shaky sighs.
One of his hands released yours and lands on your head, smoothing your hair as his hips fight to keep still. Your head bobs up and down, your spit mixing with his precum to leave a shining mess on his shaft.
He pats your head softly, the wet sounds of your mouth on him the only noise in the room. But then he's opening his mouth, and he's combing his fingers through your hair, and he's mumbling, "thank you, sweet pea," just quiet enough that you think you're imagining it.
Maybe you did. He doesn't say it again, and you don't look up to see how wrecked he looks. You're content to remain on your knees the entire day if it means he can relax, let go of whatever's haunting him.
But then he's pulling your head back, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. Hands under your arms, he tugs you to stand in front of him. This time you do let yourself look at him, but his eyes don't lift to meet yours. He tugs your shorts and panties from your body, and once you step out of them he splays his hands on the backs of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.
His head is still tipped toward where your bodies rest against each other, rocking your pelvis against the length of his cock with a shuddering sigh. But you don't mind the view; you sit just a few inches taller than him in this position, so you can brace yourself against his shoulders, your chin resting against the top of his head.
He reaches down to rub a few quick circles on your clit, and you let him move your hips when he's ready, lodging his cock at your entrance. You're dripping, you have been this entire time, but you'd shoved down the heady desire that had punched its way through your body until he was ready. Now, with his hand guiding his tip into your sopping cunt, you let out a breath. There he is, a voice in your head repeats.
He pushes your hips down at an agonizingly slow pace, your pussy swallowing every inch of him, the sounds of your moans colliding at the feeling. "So good to me," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your sternum and tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Perfect."
You know that he doesn't think he deserves your praise, but you give it to him anyway. "That's it," you hum, squirming with his cock buried to the hilt. It's all you can do not to lift your hips and drag yourself up and down his length. "Take what you need, Joel."
He never lasts long when he can feel your walls squeezing his cock for all it's worth, your body betraying you when your mind just wants to remain warm and wet and ready for him all day long, until he's ready to be done with you. But with one look at you, his dark eyes finally connecting to yours, he blinks. "Thank you, sweat pea," he murmurs again.
You lift your thumb to his forehead and you trace the lines on his weathered skin, watching as your touch releases the tension from his face. All that's left is his desire, his need for you, however distracted it may be.
Joel lets himself enjoy this, as he rocks his hips into yours, the head of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you until you're shaking in his hands, forehead tipped against his as you let your moans fill the space between the two of you. He lifts your hips, pulling you nearly all the way off of him until he shoves you back down, the delicious squelch of your pussy on his cock wrenching a knee-buckling groan from his lips. "Where?" he asks, as he does every time.
You don't need to tell him, but you do. "Fill me up, Joel," you coo, a shot of pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. "Come with me, I'm right here with you."
"That's it, darlin'," is all he groans before he's wrapping his arms around your back, tugging your chest to him in a tight embrace. His face disappears into the space between your breasts and you feel his entire body quiver with yours as you reach your peak. Warmth floods your core as he spills his release into you, your walls fluttering with the intensity of your orgasm. You pull him to you, returning his near-painful embrace.
You're as close as lovers, as close to one another as you can physically get, but it'll never be enough.
The high after he comes inside you is fleeting. Only a few minutes pass before the line inevitably returns to his brow and his frown deepens after he softens. He doesn't lift you off of him, though, so you soak up the feeling while you can.
"Better?" you whisper, eyes locked on his.
He nods slowly after a moment, his mouth set in a grim line. "Always," he mumbles gently, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your bottom lip. He presses his thumb into your mouth to the first knuckle, letting you taste salt and old sweat and your nectar on his skin.
You know better than to believe him, but you don't argue. Not today, never today. So you lift the corners of your lips in a sad smile and pretend that it doesn't feel like water rising in your lungs every time this day comes.
but we don't have to talk about it
i can walk you home and practice method acting
i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning
tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing
even though we know it isn't true
Joel will never tell you what's on his mind. Never today. September 26th won't ever mean anything to you, so why would he bother? For him, it's everything and nothing all at once. Brown curls and sparkling young eyes and blood crusted on his arms and the unforgettable weight of death in his arms.
Another year older, he sighs, his heart clenching in grief. Another year older, and another year further from everything he's lost.
tysm for reading, here's a box of tissues. :') i love u all
1K notes · View notes
cryptidclaw · 9 months
Text
Whisperingclan Year 1!
Introducing Whisperingclan! my very haunted clangen clan with a terrible leader!!
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I drew these guys MONTHS ago so this art is kinda old now T-T I finally am posting them tho...
I kinda want to draw more yearly updates but I may not draw every cat... it depends on how im feeling and how much time I have :P
...
Whisperingclan lives in the mountains next to the territory of their origin clan Roaringclan. Many of the clan founders were a part of a coup in Roearingclan to make Tempeststar, at the time Tempestwhorl, deputy or leader... they were instead defeated and banished.
The founders wandered together through the territories outside of the clans... as they drew nearer to the mountains they began to hear strange whispers on the wind. Following these whispers they found themselves deep in the mountains in a cave filled with crystals that seemed to whisper with a chorus of their Starclan ancestors.
That night they slept in the cave, and in her dreams Tempeststar was named a leader of a new clan, Whisperingclan, by Starclan themselves. The new clan now calls themself the clan closest to Starclan, and they have made their camp within the Whispering Cave claiming that they are its protectors and the only cats who can be trusted with it's power.
...
I am now continuing this clan's story with updates for each moon!
First Update HERE!
...
Below is each cat from the lineup + a description of their character and what they have done in the clan's first year!
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Tempeststar!
Tempest is a very cold and cruel cat who acts purely for her own gain and power, she HATES when others undermine her or disagree with her. She uses the fact that Starclan spirits guided her clan to the Whispering cave as proof that her new clan, and her as it's leader, is the most close to Starclan and must not be questioned no matter what. She doesn't truthfully care much about Starclan, beyond what they can do for her, but she likes to but on a devout follower act to get what she wants and come across as holier than thou.
So far Tempeststar's leadership has been filled with her "teaching" cats who stand up to her lessons by attacking them and forcing others to help her. These common demonstrations have lead to her almost always having injuries and the death of two clanmates. Ravenblur was the first to die, he had followed Tempest's orders in attacking his previous apprentice but succumbed to the injuries he sustained. Jaggedlark, the cat Raven had attacked, died next, her determination to call out Tempest needed to be stopped.
Tempest likes to find cats who she can manipulate and use to do her bidding, her original cat she used for this was Ravenblur, who was happy how maim and kill for Tempest. Now it is the ex-kittypet Creekslip (who was the one to kill Jagged) who is less enthusiastic about her unspoken job as attacker and executioner
Tempeststar also became mates with her deputy Blizzardchase and is now expecting their first litter! They are both very evil so their children will be very messed up im sure <3
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Blizzardchase!
Blizzard is a cocky cat, she is well aware of how strong and skilled she is and she is not afraid to make that known. She deeply respects Tempest and was one of the first cats to join her coup. Along with respecting Tempeststar, Blizzard also has big gay feelings for her and was NOT afraid to share this, she decided that evil woman would be her mate and she wooed her (probably with evilness) until she got Tempest to fall for her lol.
Blizzard hasn't been up to much this year other than normal deputy duties and being in love with her evil wife... she trained Mossleaf but managed to impart none of her attitude and outlook on life to the young cat. Blizzard is currently doting on her mate and is very exited to see her kits next moon.
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Bramblespeck!
Bramblespeck was not always a healer, she was a warrior in Roaringclan, but she joined Tempest's rebellion as she had always looked up to her... She was banished alongside everyone else and was the first cat to begin to hear the whispering, she was the one to lead the way to the cave and through this she realized she had been chosen to be the clan's healer.
Bramble has found her new job difficult as she only had warrior training, but luckily Frostfleck had plenty of healing knowledge that he could share with her. Frost has really been her saving grace this year as he always takes over for her when she gets injured, which seems to be quite often, she's so accident prone. Bramble is also super relieved that Whiskers joined the clan since they really needed another healer...
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Whiskers!
Whiskers is a cooky lady with a fascination for the stars and herbs. She began to hear the cave's whispers while wandering alone and followed them straight to a Whisperingclan patrol... after hearing of clan life she decided that being a healer would be the perfect role for her in life and asked to join the clan. The clan is wary towards letting in too many non-clan cats but they need more members and healers so they reluctantly agreed.
Whiskers can often be found staring wide eyed straight into the cave's crystals, studying the movements of the stars, or telling cats off for not properly respecting their ancestors.
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Creekslip!
The resident blorbo, absolute soggy sad beast... she is going to cat hell unless she stops this shit lmaooo
Creekslip has extreme abandonment issues and a fear of not being excepted, and left behind. Her twolegs abandoned her in the woods and left her to learn how to survive on her own, she's strong now, but she is desperate for a home. Creekslip joined Whisperingclan on their third moon, she felt a pull to this place after wandering the woods close to the mountains, she now questions every choice that brought her here, but she cant leave... she cant handle being alone again.
A moon into being in the clan Creekslip was given an apprentice, Sunpaw, as a chance to prove herself, but she became ill soon after, and Tempeststar took on much of Sunpaw's training. Creek could feel Tempest's judgement towards her... she failed at the first task she was given, and she was determined to prove herself to the clan and the leader. Tempest could sence this desparation and she saw the potential in it...
When Jaggedlark once again stood up to Tempeststar and Tempest called on Creek to aid her in teaching the young cat a lesson... Creek was desperate for a chance to prove herself and went through with it, she had too... Jagged died later due to the injuries Creek delt her... this haunts her. Despite this however Creek continues to be Tempest's new cat to call on to beat fear and submission into the clan. Creek is to fearful to stop, but she hates what she has now done, and continues to do.
Anyways I love her she keeps committing crimes but she is so sad :(
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Frostfleck!
He has Whitestorm vibes, but like if Whitestorm was a part time healer.
Frostfleck was a loner and joined Tempest's group before they found the cave and became a clan. He isn't into all the bad vibes of the clan but he likes the idea of being in a clan and having community, plus there are plenty of good folks in the clan and he choses to stick close to them. Frost has lots of knowledge in healing though he enjoys warrior duties more, he is an unofficial part time healer, and he takes over whenever they need more help in the healer den! (in game I make him a healer when i need more healers , these cats hurt themselves so often T-T)
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Skipspot!
My kind transboy, i love himb , I feel like he just joined the clan to make friends and have community.
he has barely done anything because he just joined the clan, but he has already befriended Sunmane and gave her advice on telling Mossleaf how she feels... ig I can thank this man for finally getting Sun to confess to Moss lol.
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Butterflyfreckle!
Butterfly is like the opposite of Creekslip, she was a kittypet but she chose to leave her home for adventure! She is confident in herself and is great at making friends, she keeps away from the bad parts of the clan and just enjoys herself. She has done pretty much nothing this year though hehe.
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Weedpatch!
Weedpatch was Tempeststar's apprentice and she convinced him to join her coup through this, he did so mostly out of fear and also because his cousin Jaggedpaw and her mentor had agreed to join as well... Weed always looked up to Jagged.
Both Weed and Jagged regretted their choices to follow Tempest, but it was too late, and they were facing the conciquences of decisions they made as dumb kids. Jagged became angry after the banishment, but Weed just became... quiet. He doesn't like to get involved in any of the clan conflicts, he stays by himself as much as he can with Tempest having been his mentor. He used to spend most of his time with Jaggedlark, she was his best friend, but then she was killed, he doesn't like to talk about Jagged anymore. These days, Weedpatch, living up to his name, copes with his trauma by being high on catmint half the time.
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Mossleaf!
Mossleaf was a kit in Roearingclan, the banished cats literally just stole her, she is actually the Roaringclan leader's daughter, hence the stealing, they wanted some vengeance. Roaringclan think Moss is dead but nope! She's just in the spooky cave cult!
Mossleaf is very aloof and strange, she likes to listen to the Whispers, and while most cant decipher them it seems like Moss might actually be able to hold a conversation with them. Bramblefleck thought Moss should become a healer but Tempest promised to give Blizzardchase the next apprentice available, despite this Moss doesn't seem to mind being a warrior though.
Moss became very close to the other apprentice at the time, Sunpaw and they became so close it seemed one could never be found without the other. They seemed to have crushes on each other from the start and it was no surprise when Sunmane confessed to Moss and they became mates soon after they both became warriors. I love them both sm they r cuties <3 (the not evil gays)
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Sunmane!
Sunmane is my favorite design... I love her lion mane and her bangs sm she is so CUTE
Sunmane joined the clan as a kit and before they found the cave. Her grandfather Flowermoon was trying to find a group to support them both, Sun's parents were gone and Flower was getting old... the strange group of cats was the best choice they had at the time.
Sunmane likes to stay positive and tries to lighten the mood with some jokes. Her apprenticeship was tough, and now that she is free from Tempeststar she is staying far away from her. She spends almost all her time chilling with her mate Mossleaf and trying to enjoy her life despite all the things that go down in the clan.
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Larkcaw!
Larkcaw is the starclan guide and was the main spirit to guide the cats to the Whispering Cave... she is evil actually, how did she get into Starclan??? I'm pretty sure the only reason she is in the good place is bec she didn't obviously do anything evil... she just plotted.
Lark decided to lead her great granddaughter Tempeststar to the Whispering Cave, she convinced other spirits that a clan living there would be a GREAT idea, despite the fact that it is actually very bad for cats to live in a cave full of that much Starclan energy. It can easily mess with a cat's mind, especially those with a stronger Starclan connection.
Larkcaw really just wanted control over a clan, and what better than making a new clan backed by a powerful Starclan source?
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Flowermoon!
Flowermoon is Sunmane's grandfather and became her caretaker after her parents died, he joined the group because he knew he needed cats who could care for Sun and him as well since he was getting old, he is unsure of his decision, Tempeststar is cruel, but he knows Sunmane has found friends and joy in the clan despite it all. Before his death Flowermoon spent much of his time telling stories to the kits and apprentices, he passed away of old age, and now watches over his granddaughter <3
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Jaggedlark!
Jaggedlark was Ravenblur's apprentice back in Roaringclan and due to this she had spent much of her apprenticeship around Tempest and her followers. She was convinced that the coup was a good idea and even played a role in convincing her cousin Weedpaw of the same thing. After the coup and subsequent banishment however, Jaggedpaw began to see the truth in what kind of a person Tempest was... she grew to despise the leader. Jagged became a warrior on the clan's first official moon, but Jaggedlark became even more confident in speaking out against Tempeststar's actions after this and this would sadly lead to her demise.
On the same moon that she became a warrior, she angered Tempest by questioning one of her decisions, Tempest called on Jaggedlark's own previous mentor, Ravenblur, to attack Jagged alongside Tempest to teach Jagged a lesson. Jagged would end up wounded from the fight, but not nearly as much as Ravenblur who died of his injuries a moon after... Jagged was devastated, her mentor had attacked and betrayed her trust, but she had killed him, didn't that make her just as bad?
A few moons later Jagged would end up being made an example of again when she began speaking out against Tempest even more than before, even questioning her place as leader... Jagged would die like her mentor, dying a moon later from blood loss.
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Ravenblur!
Ravenblur died almost immediately, but i hate him, I sent him the the dark forest >:)
Raven was one of Tempeststar's biggest followers (a Darkstripe to Tigerstar sort), he did anything Tempest asked of him, even attacking his own previous apprentice Jaggedlark. He is VERY mad that Jagged ended up killing him, he feels he deserved more from life... he wanted more power like Tempest and Blizzard, and Jagged took that away from him...
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peachhcs · 2 months
Text
good thing it was a rainy day
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
summary: part to 2 to rainy day at the lake house where some pent up sexual tension escalates between samy and will after being forced to stay away from one another due to everyone's obnoxious teasing
2k words
warnings: 18+, SMUT, this is literally like all smut, sub!will, sub!reader, switch, oral (m receiving), p in v (protected!!), riding, making out, hair pulling, slight praising, hickeys, consensual!, getting caught at the end
soooo here’s part 2!!! this is very explicit so read at your own risk! (warning u now before u hit read more lmao) publishing things like this genuinely scares me bc i know people can write so much better smut and i've never published smut before 🫣 but hope y’all like it?? idk i’m not the best at writing sex but like yeah! (p.s. pic 1 and pic 3 are from tumblr) (p.s.s. working on my requests rn too!!)
au masterlist | part 1
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will's hands glided across samy's back as they deepened their kiss. the boy desperately tried ignoring what was going on down in his pants because if he focused too hard on it, he'd for sure cum before anything really happened. the brunette wasn't making it easy either. she bit and tugged on will's bottom lip like her life depended on it and the little tugs at the root of his curls had him losing it fast. samy's little comment from a few minutes ago had will trying to keep his sounds in—one, because he didn't want to get caught and two, he was trying to prove he wasn't the loud one.
although every time samy grinded her core against his own or kissed particularly hard, will struggled strangling his little whimpers and groans. she definitely wasn't making his easy for him.
the girl's hand started wandering lower again. she moved slowly and calculated like she was intentionally teasing the boy beneath her. will was desperate for her touch and her slow pace was killing him.
"s-samy, please," will's blue eyes met her own where a smirk replaced the gentle smile.
"desperate, huh?" she mused, finally reaching will's waistband again.
"mhm, god—" he couldn't stop the whimper this time. she was so close, yet so far still.
samy grinned. she reveled in those sounds her boyfriend made. he was so tough on the outside, so knowing this was how he got for her was a treat. she finally decided to have some mercy and allowed her hand to make contact with will's bulge. he immediately jerked his hips into her touch, biting his lip so hard he started tasting blood.
"this okay?" samy wondered, always double checking.
"yes, yeah. it's perfect," will breathily got out. she smiled, pushing his curls away from his somewhat sweaty forehead.
for it being so rainy and cool outside, the temperature inside of samy's room was hot.
she palmed will through his shorts for a few more moments before slowly pushing them down. his cock came free in one go, making will hiss at the sudden air against it. samy's eyes widened even though she's seen him multiple times before. each time was always as good as the first—always so red and throbbing for a release.
"so, so pretty, will," samy praised as she carefully took him in her hand. she used his pre as lube, slowly running her hand up and down his length in soft strokes.
"mm, yeah. feels so good," will muttered, head falling back onto the pillow in relief.
the brunette leaned down to leave gentle kisses to will's tip. the small feeling of her mouth on him had will's hips stuttering, trying to keep them under control.
"shit, hughes."
samy pumped him for a bit longer before deciding she was ready to attach her lips to him. his pre was enough lube and by the way he twitched in her hand, she knew he was already close. her pretty lips took him in one go resulting in the most guttural moan from her boyfriend. will's hands gripped onto the sheets, struggling to keep his hips still.
"fuck," he cursed a little too loudly. her lips were like heaven and the feeling was something will tried engraving into his mind forever.
"so good for me, will," samy hummed, meeting his gaze. the boy nearly lost it seeing her like that with his dick in her mouth. he took a mental snapshot, wanting that memory until he died—messy hair, glossed over eyes, hickeys on every inch of her skin—he was so, so fucked.
she picked up her pace, bobbing her head a little faster than before. her hands splayed across will's hips as purchase and leverage to help with the speed.
"i'm close already," will moaned, feeling that coil in his stomach about to snap.
"cum for me, will. it's okay," samy urged and her words were enough to send him over the edge and see stars.
his hips bucked up on their own as he released right into samy's mouth. "oh fuck. shit," he got out.
his chest heaved in deep pants in attempt to get his breathing back under control while samy just grinned. "d-did you swallow all of it?" the boy wondered, dragging his hand back up her thigh.
the brunette stuck her tongue out to show that there was nothing left. will groaned and that sight was enough to keep his dick hard. his other hand tugged samy back down to his mouth, kissing her particularly hard being no where near finished with her yet.
"god, you're so pretty," the boy muttered against her lips earning a small blush across samy's cheeks.
his hands tugged at her waistband as an indication that he wanted her shorts off. samy kicked them down her legs being left in her swimsuit bottoms that left little to the imagination. will's hand wandered across the exposed skin and took handfuls of her ass. he moaned at the feeling of her flesh in his hands while samy kissed him deeper.
the hockey player flipped them over so he now had the upper hand. a smirk lined his lips while he let his hand wander further down to her own waistband again. samy read the look in his eye, a smile crossing her lips as she tugged her boyfriend down for more kisses.
will took that opportunity to push her swimsuit aside and slowly slide one of his fingers into her warm walls. his action had a loud moan escaping samy's lips which brought a grin to his lips.
"fuck, will," samy's eyes closed, nails digging into his arms.
"this okay?" the boy breathed against her neck.
"mhm, more than okay," the brunette's own whimpers started escaping her lips as will's finger picked up speed before deciding to add a second one. he smirked to himself—who was the loud one now?
will found a good pace while peppering more light hickeys across his girlfriend's chest. they were for sure never going to hear the end of it from anyone after this. the sounds she made had the boy going crazy—all of it going straight to his now throbbing cock. every time samy's mouth opened will twitched, desperately searching for his second orgasm.
"need you so bad, pretty girl," he breathed into her ear earning another delicious moan in response.
"me too. need you inside me, will," samy's voice broke. she really couldn't look more gorgeous to will. her tear stained cheeks and kiss swollen lips made the boy go completely numb.
he slowly pulled his fingers out while samy dug through her nightstand for a condom. will's gaze fixated on her as she tore the wrapper open with her teeth and carefully rolled it on him. his hips jerked at her touch, a low chuckle escaping his lips between the breathy pants.
he grabbed ahold of samy's face, both of them falling back onto the bed again as he devoured her lips once more. in the next second, samy straddled will's hips.
"i'm so in love with you," will mumbled between kisses.
"so, so in love with you. so handsome," the girl replied.
she began lining will up with her entrance. as soon as the tip was in, each of them let out probably the loudest moans ever that would definitely let everyone else in the house know what they were up to. will's grasp on her hips became bruising while sang tugged harshly on his curls.
the further down samy went, the harder it was for will to keep his hips still. he used whatever self-control he had left to stay still as he bottomed out. the two were so desperate for one another they nearly came immediately.
"oh my god— fuck," a broken moan escaped will's lips as his eyes squeezed shut.
"you can move," samy urged. her walls stretched themselves out around the hockey player's thick cock—the feeling making her head spin.
"fuck, i can't. not yet. gonna fucking cum if i move," will panted, desperately trying to think of unsexy things so he wouldn't blow his load in the first five seconds.
after another few seconds, will found it in himself to start moving. he slowly bucked his hips up, hands digging into samy's flesh that would for sure leave marks. the brunette met his thrusts with a roll of her hips. the two began finding a good pace and samy's grinding turned into bouncing.
"yeah, fuck. so good for me will," the girl's head tipped back exposing all of the hickeys under her jaw and down her throat.
will felt his cock throb at the sight knowing he left all of those and they'd be impossible to hide.
"so fucking hot. shit hughes," the blonde moaned out. his hands went back to her ass—her bouncing turning his brain to mush.
it didn't take long for the bouncing to become too much for the hockey player. that feeling in his stomach returned and samy knew will was closed with how his cock twitched inside of her. she used her hands pressed against his chest as leverage to bounce faster and making sure her cleavage was on full display to try and get will to his orgasm.
"close will?" the girl wondered.
"mhm, so close—fuck—gonna make me cum," the boy got out in broken pants, eyes clued to her chest on full display for him.
samy smirked, working herself faster and ignoring the burn in her thighs form all the work she was doing. the sounds will let out was enough to push her to her own orgasm. she moaned out as she clenched around his length, riding out her high.
"cum for me will," she urged. her words and orgasm was enough to push the boy to his second orgasm.
he spilled into the condom with a string of curse words and samy's name leaving his lips while he held her down against him, riding out his own high.
"god, fuck. came so fucking hard," will panted once he regained some of his breath.
samy grinned, pushing his curls away from his sweaty forehead, both of their skins were glowing with moisture as the room filled with sex.
"did so good for me," the girl praised which had will's cheeks flushing.
"i love you so much," he mumbled and samy leaned down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
suddenly, there was a rough knock on the door that had both of them tensing. the two exchanged a glance, waiting for someone to say something on the other side.
"just so you know, eth and i heard all of that. you guys are disgusting. you're so glad you don't have a room next to mom and dad," luke's voice came through while they could hear ethan's little snickers.
"fuck off," samy called back to her brother while will's cheeks turned a deep crimson. he'd never be able to look luke in the eyes for the rest of the summer.
"i gotta appreciate it though. will's got hella game," ethan spoke now and they could hear luke slap his friend on the arm for that comment.
"next time y'all need to get off take a drive somewhere," luke said before him and ethan walked away.
bonus:
will's eyes were glued to samy as she dragged him through the kitchen. they had smiles on their faces and the same look in their eyes while the girl searched for her car keys in the mess of everyone else's.
the boy's lips were already nipped at her neck as they stumbled their way to the garage. her hickeys from a few weeks ago hadn't even faded yet, but will was determined to add more.
as the two made it through the kitchen, they caught luke's gaze where he sat at the table eating some throw together peanut butter and jelly sandwich, his eyes widened when he saw samy's car keys, the look in their eyes, and will's slight bulge down in his shorts already.
"you fucking whores!" the middle hughes yelled, dropping his sandwich in disgust.
suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore nor will he be anytime soon.
207 notes · View notes
noxturnalpascal · 3 months
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Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 4)
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CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader
Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?
Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.
*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*
LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE
PREVIOUS
II. Predator or Prey?
CH 4 (4.8k) The following Sunday everyone in town is gathered at the old church with the big white steeple for the weekly Valley meeting. After a midday interfaith service, the religious leader gives Joel the floor for his usual speech. As he always does, Joel begins by extolling the virtues of the community, speaking on their recent raiding successes, and then reviews the three tenants. 
We are stronger together. It’s important that everyone finds a place within The Valley that caters to their strengths, so we can depend on each other and serve one another. The predator versus the prey. You have to be one or the other and we choose to not be anyone’s prey. This community is held above any other and we must protect it at all costs. Create a path to the future. Everything we do here paves the way for us as a society to beat the fungus, to find a cure, and to return to the top of the food chain. 
The crowd listens, enraptured, nodding along and smiling as Joel holds them in the palm of his hand. He praises the men and women who patrol the perimeter of the community for their diligence and bravery. He thanks the farmers who live outside the town borders for their perseverance. Then he scans the crowd, looking for you, to silently acknowledge how grateful he is for your presence. But all he sees are the same eyes over and over again, looking at him with devotion and reverence. He usually sees you in the second row with the rest of the house, but you’re not there.
As his speech winds to a close and he heads back to his front-row seat, he realizes that you were in the crowd with the rest of his household. You were there in the second row the whole time, staring at him just like the rest of them do, with blind adoration, with expectation, with mindless loyalty. He’d felt a change on Thursday. After the meeting he’d touched you everywhere, gotten down on his knees for you, and worshiped at your altar. He’d felt something shift and now the wild look in your eyes is gone.
You’re completely devoted. You’re under his spell. You’re one of them.
One of us, he corrects himself. You’re one of us, just like he wanted you to be…. Right?
You watch Joel speaking at the meeting and it's as if his words have new meaning – like he’s speaking directly to you. You’ve never felt small or beautiful or feminine, but he makes you feel whole. He makes you feel strong. He makes you feel like a woman. You feel like you were supposed to be his, always. And it was always supposed to go like this, as if your whole life has led you to this moment. All of your failures have led you here, to him. 
The trepidation you felt when you first got here has completely disappeared and you know that you’ll give everything you have to Joel. You’ll give him all of you, your mind, body and soul, gladly. He can fill in all of the broken or missing pieces of you. Every bad thing that ever happened to you Joel can fix. He can heal the parts of you that weren’t good enough, that weren’t pretty enough, that weren’t smart enough. 
He can save you. 
As soon as the crowd begins to move out of the large room and amble towards the dining hall next door for dinner, he grabs your arm and pulls you roughly into a small supply closet. It smells of lemon and vinegar and is far too small for two people to move about comfortably. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that there is a crowd of people on the other side of the door or that he shouldn’t be asking you to do what he’s about to ask you to do.
The look in your eyes has gone to his head, he needs to see your supplication right now. He needs to witness your devotion, he needs to give you communion. He pushes you down onto your knees, undoes his pants, and offers himself to you. It’s your first time seeing the size of him and you look willing to comply, your eyes still dazed and glowing, still filled with trust in him. He watches as you take hold of him with one hand and begin to lick and kiss the head, slowly dragging your tongue up and down his shaft. 
Once you put him fully in your mouth he loses all patience, needing more immediately. He pushes your hand away and takes your head in a firm grip on either side, pausing as you look up at him. Your eyes are still glassy. He nods his head and you reciprocate, which he takes as permission to begin drawing himself in and out of your mouth, gently pushing your head forwards and backwards. 
Slowly, he passes back and forth over your lips, allowing you to adjust to him. This only lasts for a few thrusts before he begins to move faster, deeper. He matches the movements of his hips with his grip on the sides of your head, coordinating them to fuck your face in earnest. He hears your gurgles and sees tears beginning to run down your cheeks but you don’t push him away, so he doesn’t stop. He tells himself that you want this. You want this as much as he does.
You kneel beneath him, knees stinging on the hard floor, mouth full and struggling to breathe around him. You’re not sure where this is coming from, but it's obvious that he needs this right now, and what you want above all else is to give him what he needs, to be everything for him. You place your hands on his thighs to brace yourself and try your best to breathe through your nose, to be quiet and still and exactly what he needs you to be, even if this is painful and uncomfortable.
You wish the tears would stop streaming down your face. You’re afraid to even look up at him, worried that he’ll take one look at you and think you’re not enjoying it. What if he thinks you’re having a terrible time, what if he thinks you look awful, what if he thinks he’s hurting you? Maybe those things are kind of true, but still…. What if he stops? What would you do with yourself if he stopped? If he didn’t want you to do this anymore?
You finally look up and meet his eyes. You barely recognize him, his eyes black and his face hard. He doesn’t even meet your gaze, it’s like he’s staring right through you. His pace begins to falter and his hips start to stutter, and you hope it means he’s nearly done. You’re trying so hard to bear this, to not choke, to not cry, to ignore the stiffness in your jaw and the stinging in your knees, but you don’t know how much longer you can do it.
“Are you gonna swallow it?” he huffs out, voice strained. He pulls himself out of your throat until only the tip of him rests on your lips.
“I’ve never–” you swallow back a gag, “I’ve never done that before.”
“But you will, right?” he nods his head as he asks.
He nods, so you nod. And you will. You’ll do anything he asks of you. You don’t have time to wipe your face, which you’re sure must look a mess, before he puts his entire length back inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You can’t stop your body from heaving as he pushes in, and part of you wonders how he’s able to ignore it. He’s usually so in-tune with you.
He lasts less than a dozen more thrusts before his hips stutter to a halt as he starts to release his orgasm down your throat. You feel hot spurts hitting the back of your mouth and you’re awash with shame that it instantly makes you want to gag. He needs this, you tell yourself. You have to be good for him, you have to do a good job for him. You have to be everything he needs you to be.
He pulls himself back so his cock rests on your tongue as he continues to come, coating your mouth, and now you taste him for the first time. The salty bitterness covers your tongue and you’re begging yourself not to retch. He holds your head still, encouraging you to swallow him, even placing one hand over your throat and telling you don’t spit, and swallow it all, which you do with difficulty.
When you’ve swallowed every drop, he seems satisfied and lets go of your head, tucking himself back into his pants. Without warning he turns and walks out of the closet, leaving you to lurch forward since you were resting on him for support. You fall forward onto your hands, catching yourself before your face meets the ground, scraping your palms a bit on the dirty linoleum.
You stay there for a moment like that, on all fours, in a cleaning closet, alone. Down here it smells like musty mop heads and mildew. Down here. On your knees. For Joel. Days ago you were alone with him and he was the one on his knees, worshiping your body, treating you like a goddess. Today he used your mouth like a fuck toy. No, you can’t think like that. That’s not what Joel did, he would never do that. 
You run the last ten minutes through your mind a few times as you slowly get up and brush yourself off. He needed you. He could have anyone here but he chose you, out of everyone. No one ever did that before. No one ever chose you over anyone else. But Joel did. Joel needed you today and you were able to be there for him, and that’s what matters. 
Joel pushes his way through the crowd, not an ounce of shame or regret present. He smiles and shakes hands and gives hugs. Everyone in The Valley looks to him for answers, for guidance, for leadership. He’s the reason every single one of them is here and he’s responsible for them all. They are his flock and he is their shepherd. He gives so much of himself to be here, to do this. He deserves the adoration and the appreciation. He deserves you. He deserves your body, your mouth, your reverence.
He knows you’ve changed since you arrived, you’ve become more trusting, less wild. You’ve morphed into what they all wanted you to be, a devoted member of The Valley. He’s changed also. He used to be different, back when you first met. Back then he could give you pieces of himself, his real self. But the more you’re drawn to him and the more you’ve trusted him, the more he's become unworthy of your trust. He doesn’t even remember doing it intentionally, but it’s done.
He’s slowly lured you into his trap and now, you’re caught.
The rest of the week your head is completely filled with thoughts of him. He’s your first thought in the morning and your last thought before you fall asleep. All night your dreams are filled with him, and you cling to the fleeting images of him when you wake. You can’t seem to get enough of him, aching to be near him every moment of the day. You stare at him longingly across the table at every meal and follow him around like a puppy whenever you can, unable to focus on anything else.
Joel himself is so lost in his own delusions of grandeur, he walks around the house with his head held high, cocky and full of himself. He can feel you staring at him all the time and he indulges you once in a while by taking your hand and grazing it across his lips, down his chest, over his burgeoning erection. He’s half-hard all the time now, anticipating. He’s convinced that you’re going to let him fuck you after the next Thursday meeting. He’s going to have you, he’s going to have every piece of you.
The days leading up to it, he thinks about it all day; his dick achingly hard but he refuses to jerk off now, wanting to save it for you. He’s practically vibrating with anticipation when Tess comes up to him Thursday before dinner and gives him the bad news. She tells him you’re sick, started throwing up a couple hours ago, and won’t be able to accompany him to the meeting.
Before he can argue, Tess waves her hand in front of his face, telling him not to worry, that Kerri will be going with him instead. Without a moment for an argument to leave his lips, Tess slips away and Kerri is standing in front of him. She has been living with them for almost a year now, since he found her battered and bruised about a half day’s ride from here. 
Kerri is petite, has chin-length curly hair, a toothy smile, and a faint scar stretching from her left temple down to her jawline. She walks with a barely noticeable limp but always pulls her weight around the house, doing most of the meal prep and impressing everyone with her fine cooking skills. She is nurturing, generous, pretty, and maybe the last person Joel wanted to see tonight. She’s not you. He wanted you.
He’s made so irritable by the last-minute change that he can’t even hide his disappointment. He can barely focus during the meeting, getting easily distracted and having to ask people to repeat themselves. After the meeting, Kerri, sensing his unease, gives him a hug to try and ease some of his tension. He knows she feels his erection, how could she not? It’s been raging for days and he can’t help himself, he pulls her tight and grinds himself into her for a brief moment of satisfaction.
Back at the house he heads into his room but within minutes Kerri is knocking on his door. She asks, is this okay? and he hesitates. She hasn’t come to his room since before he brought you into town, but pushing his dick into her thigh at the meeting tonight for the small relief that friction brought him must have signaled to her that he desired her company. He doesn’t. He only wants your company.
He looks at the closed door to your room and thinks about you inside, sick, probably asleep. What would be the harm in seeking comfort from Kerri? He’s fucked her before, it’s not a big deal. He’s never fucked you, it wouldn’t be like he was cheating. In fact, he thinks you’d probably want this for him. You wouldn’t want him to be suffering, and he’s been painfully hard for days. You’d want him to have relief.
There’s a small voice screaming in the back of his head that he ignores. You’ll never have to know about Kerri. You didn’t know about her before and you won’t know about her tonight, and what you don’t know can’t hurt you.
He opens his door further, silently inviting Kerri inside. She attempts to kiss him but he won’t let his lips meet hers, instead kissing the side of her head, her cheeks, her neck. He tries to breathe through his mouth, unable to get over the scent of her that isn’t at all like yours. He lets her hands grope along his body and he closes his eyes tight, trying to imagine they belong to you instead.
She undoes his belt and pushes his pants down with a practiced hand as she palms his length, working to get his half-hard cock to come to life. Between her curls tickling his chin, her all-wrong scent, and her rough touch, he can’t seem to keep his erection. How is he supposed to fuck away his need for you if he can’t stay hard?
Wordlessly, she sinks down to her knees in front of him. Don’t worry, she says, as she puts him in her mouth, doubling down on her efforts to work his stress right out of his dick. With her not-your scent, not-your hair, and not-your face out of his line of vision, he’s able to let his mind wander and let his thoughts of you return.
He imagines you on your knees in front of him, thinks of you in the closet with your lips wrapped around him. He thinks of your wet mouth, your soft hands, your wild eyes. That does it. He comes immediately and without warning, causing Kerri to cough and sputter around him, spitting his come back onto him. His own release gets splattered onto his thighs, slides down his shaft, and drips from his balls as Kerri wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, rising to her feet. 
“Uhhh, thanks hon,” Joel mutters, as he pets her head and pushes her towards the door.
You know it’s probably close to midnight when you rise in your bed, having spent hours throwing up and then sleeping. Your body is tight with pain, you feel flushed and sweaty, and your head is pounding. You should drink the water Tess left on your nightstand but you worry that it might cause you to throw up again. You were really hoping to see Joel when he got home from the meeting tonight, so when you hear his door open, you heave yourself out of bed and turn your doorknob to greet him.
You see Kerri leaving his room as he stands in the open doorway, pants undone and softening dick still dripping with the evidence of his release. Kerri doesn’t see you as she heads down the hall to her room but Joel’s eyes rise to meet yours for a brief moment before you hastily close the door. You hear the clinking of his belt and then hear his voice directly on the other side of the wood.
“Hey baby, how you doin’?” 
Your head is spinning, you’re sweating profusely now, your pulse throbs behind your eyes. Did you really just see what you think you saw? It was pretty dark in the hallway, maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you. You’re pretty sure you have a fever, maybe you’re hallucinating. Joel lightly knocks on the door and you jump. 
“You alright?” he asks. 
You mutter back a yeah before you stumble towards your bed, wondering if this is all just some bad dream. Joel wouldn’t be fucking around with Kerri, he wouldn’t do that, he isn’t like that. Joel doesn’t use people, right? Joel is yours… right? This must all be a nightmare you’re having. You’re taking short, quick breaths now, fighting to remain conscious. You fall onto the mattress. You’re so fucking sick and as your head hits the pillow you let sleep overtake you.
After a long, fitful night’s sleep, you wake in the late afternoon, feeling slightly less feverish than the day before. You’re immediately hit by a wave of panic, feeling tightness in your stomach and it starts to hurt, causing you to fear you may throw up again. You saw Joel and Kerri last night, and you’re pretty sure she wasn’t helping him with a stuck zipper. You need to talk to Joel, you need to confront him about what you think you saw. You need to hear him tell you it’s not true.
Joel is sitting at his desk, going over the patrols for the upcoming Christmas holiday, when you knock at his door. He’s been waiting for you to come see him since you caught Kerri leaving his room last night. He knew he’d have some questions to answer, he’s just not sure yet how he’s going to answer them. He knows he was well within his rights to have Kerri get him off, he just hopes you don’t come crying to him, jealous and angry.
He opens the door for you and lets you into the office. You enter the room and round the corner away from the door, keeping your gaze at your feet. You fumble with your hands but don’t speak, attempting to gather the courage to ask a question you’re not sure you want the answer to. Joel opens his mouth to start the conversation but before he can speak, there’s another knock at the door. 
He moves to open the door and Rosie, all five feet nine inches of her, is peering at him over her glasses. She throws her arms around him, pushing him back into the room a little, whispering in his ear.
“I heard you were stressed out honey, I can help ya out a little,” as she lowers herself to her knees.
Joel doesn’t even have time to protest as she reaches for his belt, looking up at his face. She stills her hands and follows his gaze behind her, turning back to meet your eyes, which are bulging out of your head.
“Oh PJ, I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know you were in here.” 
She gets up off her knees and quickly exits, leaving you and Joel alone once more. Joel knows the other shoe has dropped. Some of these women have been here for a long time, some for a short time, they are free to come and go if they desire, but living in his house is considered a privilege. He’s the leader of this community and to be able to help take care of his sexual needs and have him take care of yours is held in high honor. 
The women who live here aren’t petty or jealous, they are sweet and giving people, hard workers, and dedicated members of The Valley who make sacrifices and put others – notably Joel – first. They’ve been keeping their distance out of respect for the obvious affection that you and Joel feel for each other, but they must think that since Joel seems stressed then it’s their time to step in and perform their usual duties.
They don’t know that you aren’t aware of the long-standing arrangement they have in this house. They don’t discuss things over the breakfast table but they also don’t keep things secret, because they don’t know that it should be a secret. They’re all open and honest with each other and have no idea that Joel has kept you in the dark about his relationships with them.
Of course, you have been kept in the dark, and now that the light is shining – too brightly – on the truth, it’s making you sick to your stomach. You stare at the ground where Rosie was just kneeling in front of Joel. You know that what you thought you saw last night was, in fact, Kerri leaving Joel’s room after getting him off somehow. It happened. It was about to happen again. It’s probably happened before.
“It’s all of them?” you ask.
Joel shrugs.
“It’s all of them,��� you say again, not a question this time. Your vision is going blurry from the blood pumping through your skull so hard. You’re afraid you’re going to pass out. “You fuck all of them?” 
“I have, yeah,” Joel says, shrugging again.
“And you plan to fuck me too?” You can’t even meet his face, your mind is reeling a mile a minute.
“You’re welcome to come to my room anytime you want, baby,” he answers casually. Goosebumps roll across your whole body and you fight back a dry-heave.
“Like they do?”
“Sometimes,” he fucking shrugs again. “It’s not a big deal, PJ.”
You barely hear him, the sound of your own heartbeat creating a hum in your ears, the sick feeling in your stomach rising up your throat, threatening to spill your insides out at your feet. Not a big deal, he says. It’s not a big deal that he’s been lying to you since the day you got here. It’s not a big deal that he wants to use you just like he’s apparently been using these other women, that he wants to use your body for his pleasure. It’s not a big deal that you thought he was different.
And now you see the cracks in this whole place, see it for what it actually is. This place is upholding a façade of a normal society, but it isn’t even close. Joel is treated like some kind of god or king or both and no one says no to him, he gets whatever and apparently whoever he wants. You can’t believe that he made you feel like you mattered when you clearly don’t matter at all. 
You thought he could fix you. All he did was break you. You’ve never felt so low.
“Just another one,” you start to repeat, “Just another one. Just another one. Just another one.”
You’re just another one of these things that he gets when he wants it, and he gets whatever he wants. 
“Just another one. Just another one. Just another one.”
He’s just another man, in a long line of many, who used you.
“Just another one. Just another one.”
He walks towards you, backing you up against the wall, bringing his face closer to yours. Baby, you hear him say, as he brings his lips towards yours. He tries to kiss you but you shudder away, repulsed by him, and he grabs for your arm to pull you back to him. Overwhelmed by his scent and the clawing tightness gripping your insides, you bend at the waist and throw up all over his shoes.
“What the fuck,” he curses loudly before he takes a deep breath, calming himself. “You okay, PJ?” 
He reaches for you again and you push him away, a loud sob leaving your lips. Oh fuckin’ christ, he mutters. Here come the fuckin’ waterworks. You’re making a big deal out of nothing and he’s getting annoyed at the theatrics. He grabs your arm and yanks you up, ignoring the vomit dripping from your chin and the tears streaming down your face. 
“Quit bein’ dramatic,” he says as he shakes you by the arm.
Tess comes in the door just then, seeing your face and the way Joel is manhandling you. 
“What the fuck, Joel?” she wrenches you out of his grip, touching your forehead and feeling your fever. 
She sees the throw-up all over Joel’s feet and sees him roll his eyes. She has no idea what’s going on right now but Joel has lost all his tenderness with you. She scolds him for letting you out of bed, telling him you’re still really sick. She takes you back up to your room, makes you drink some water, and tucks you back into bed, threatening to call the doctor if you try to get up again before your fever breaks.
Later that night as Joel heads up to bed he goes to your door and knocks several times, but you don’t answer. He knocks again, no answer, and knocks again. Tess comes out of her room and down the hall, having heard the noise he’s making knocking repeatedly at your door.
“Leave her alone Joel, I told you she’s fuckin’ sick.”
“Shut up Tess,” he doesn’t even turn to look at her. “Get back in your room.”
He throws your door open and sees you laying in bed with your back to the door. He says your name several times but you don’t move a muscle. He takes a step forward, his foot crossing the threshold to your room.
“Don’t you dare,” Tess snaps at him. 
His steps halt. He says your name again, louder this time. Aside from the rise and fall of your breathing, you don’t move. He knows you can hear him, the whole house can fucking hear him. Tess is behind him, berating him some more. He repeats your name, yelling now. He hears a door down the hallway open, yells again, hears Tess hissing stop it, goddamnit, and then hears another door open.
How dare you fucking ignore him. Who the fuck do you think you are right now? He lifts his foot to take another step into your room and he hears Tess start to go ballistic behind him, cursing and bellyaching.  Why don’t you fucking look at him? He hears whispers of the other women further down the hallway. Jesus fucking christ, why don’t they leave him alone? Why don’t you roll over? 
He steps back into the hallway and slams your door closed, rattling the walls of the entire house. “Go to bed,” he screams at Tess. “Go the fuck to bed,” he repeats down the corridor as he steps into his room, slamming his own door behind him as well.
🖤
NEXT
Thank you endlessly to @papipascalispunk for helping me with this series and listening to me rant about Cult Leader Joel. 🫂 I appreciate you SO much.
TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh
161 notes · View notes
kitty-tea · 4 months
Text
Like father, like son
Welcome to the third and final part of the story!
Here’s part one and part two
(Link to masterlist)
Summary: James finally gets what he wants.
A/n: thank you to everyone who’s read the story so far! Sorry this is so long and full of filthy, smutty goodness :)
Pairing: dilf!James Potter x reader
NSFW 18+ only!
Word count: 5.4k
Tags/warnings: dilf!James Potter, super long, unprotected sex, age gap, low-key unhinged, almost-somnophilia, pet names, extremely filthy smut, NSFW, oral sex, p in v sex, teasing, reader is of age, dub-con (depends on how you look at it)
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Hey, how have you been? It’s been a while since we’ve spoken to each other. I know you’ve been busy with the Auror Recruitment Programme. Dad and I are really happy for you. We both miss you very much, and it would mean a lot to me if you would come to our house for my 18th birthday. We know you’re very busy, so it’ll just be dinner with the three of us and we’ll let you leave the next morning. We’ll even let you sleep on the pull-out couch just like old times.
-Your friend, Harry
You stared at the letter in your hand that Hedwig had dropped onto your kitchen counter after you let her in. The words “we both miss you very much” stuck out to you. You were reminded of how fast time passed since Lily’s death. The first month after it happened, the three of you were a complete mess. James had gotten a letter from Professor McGonagall saying that Harry’s grades were starting to slip, and he was in danger of having to repeat sixth year on top of getting kicked off the Quidditch team (something that upset both you and James as former players for the same team) if something wasn’t done about it. With you out of school and unable to spend as much time with him, there was nothing you could do for him other than to keep sending him letters of encouragement. Luckily for him, his supportive group of friends were more than willing to help him get back to his feet and help keep him on track to graduating. You still understood that neither James nor his son would ever get over Lily’s death because you never got over your parent’s deaths. You understood each other’s pain. You’d never be that type of person to tell someone to get over a loved one’s death no matter how long ago it was.
You scribbled your response to Harry’s letter promising him that you’ll be at his house, and tied the parchment around Hedwig’s ankle before sending her off.
You sat still on your chair with a dreamy feeling inside of you. If you were a cartoon character, there would be hearts in place of your eyes. That dreamy feeling only swelled within you more by each day until it was the day for you to see James.
James felt selfish for using his son’s birthday as an excuse to see you. He was the one who brought you up during dinner, casually mentioning that you hadn’t spoken with them in a long time. He then mentioned that with Harry’s birthday coming up, it would be the perfect opportunity for you to spend time together.
That’s how he found himself answering the door at six in the evening. His heart somersaulted into his stomach at the sight of you.
“Oh, hi James.” His eyes didn’t overlook the way your cheeks turned as pink as the sunset or the same shy smile you started giving him all those years ago.
“Come in, Harry’s inside setting the table.” He stepped aside as you walked in with your overnight bag slung onto your shoulder.
James didn’t care if you caught his eyes hungrily exploring your body. Actually, he wanted you to catch him, so he could see how you’d react. Would you blush an even deeper shade of red and turn away? Or would you boldly hold his stare?
And what the hell were you wearing? You were (definitely) trying to seduce him with the tiny skirt that almost showed the plump skin of your ass and that white blouse that was high enough to show your belly button and exposed your shoulders. There was no way you were wearing a bra with the way your nipples were showing through the soft fabric, just tempting James to reach his thumb out and rub it over the hard peaks.
He then realized he couldn’t remember how long it’d been since he let his mind wander to you as he’d pleasure himself in the privacy of his own room.
He really needed to get himself together. He was not about to let his inappropriate thoughts about you slip out in front of his son.
“Happy birthday!” Your voice snapped James out of his thoughts as he saw you run over to Harry and give him a hug.
“I’m glad you could make it!” He returned your hug. “Come on, let’s eat. Aren’t you starving?”
“I know you are.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, only to abruptly stop with a blush when your eyes did indeed catch James looking at your body, specifically at your thighs that he saw you rubbing together. “Oh… yeah, what’s for dinner?” Your voice stumbled.
“My favorite, obviously because I’m the birthday boy.” Harry said in a joking snobbish way.
Throughout dinner, James sat back during most discussions you and Harry were having, enjoying the peaceful quietness without having to worry about the chaos that had been happening in the rest of the Wizarding World.
James didn’t know or care what time it was when his eyes opened to the sight of the still darkened sky outside his bedroom window and the dry, raw feeling inside his throat. He needed water which meant he’d have to go past the living room where you were sleeping in order to get to the kitchen.
Being careful not to make too much noise as he stepped past Harry’s bedroom door, he made his way down the stairs.
If the word temptation was a person, James was sure it would be you. His eyes gravitated up your exposed legs before landing on the hem of the short, pink satin robe you were wearing, your sleeping form undisturbed by his presence.
A more sinister part of his mind was begging him to walk over to you and untie your robe. One little peek wouldn’t hurt right? It told him, but he screamed at that part of him to shut up and that Lily would’ve been furious enough to come out of her grave to give him some sort of a spiritual beating and an earful if he did something that devious to you. It was just a thought. Not everything he thought needed to be acted out.
He wasn’t married anymore. He didn’t have to feel guilty about his dirty thoughts about you, right?
James found that his previous thirst for water was replaced by something else. He sat on the armchair next to the pull-out couch as he reminded himself about what he’d been taught: that men are allowed to look but not touch. But he wanted to touch you. His fingers twitched around the armrest as he imagined tracing them along your exposed inner thighs before dipping below the hem. Would his fingers feel a warm slickness or a piece of fabric? Were you wearing any underwear at all? It was hard to tell with your legs closed.
James couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care anymore that his conscience had no control over his body as he got up from his chair and the backs of his fingers found themselves brushing a strand of hair out of your face and down your neck. He made up this pathetic excuse in his mind that he had to check your pulse to make sure you were alive.
That excuse was so pathetic that James instantly snatched his hand back and mentally scolded himself before swiftly retreating to his bedroom.
Stepping out of the bathroom with your toothbrush bag, you adjusted your robe. You heard sounds coming from the kitchen which you deduced was James cooking something. You were right, for you spotted him behind the island where he was balancing a mixing bowl in one hand and holding a whisk in the other as you poked your head into the kitchen. You also noticed instantly that he was shirtless. And his muscles were on full display.
Although you’ve imagined what he’d look like without a shirt countless times, nothing could compare to the real view.
“Good morning. I didn’t see you there. I’m making pancakes.” You didn’t know what sounded more delicious: the pancakes, or the sound of his raspy morning voice.
You forced yourself to move your entire body into the kitchen.
You couldn’t remember how to speak as you felt your cheeks flame up and your eyes glue itself to his abs.
“Would you like to help?” Oh, you wanted to help him with something, alright. Just not the type of help he was implying.
You nodded and James gave you a smile as you made it to the kitchen island and set your toothbrush bag down. It was more like a smirk.
“What’s so funny?” You cringed at how your voice sounded like an angry little kid.
“It was like you were hiding from me.” Your heart fluttered even more inside your chest at the sound of his laughter. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”
When you hadn’t broken out of your trance, James brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Are you alright?” He asked. You weren’t paying attention to what he was saying. You were busy staring at every body part of his from his eyes down to the V-line of his abs that extended below the waistband of his sweats.
You also weren’t paying attention to how you were squeezing your legs together to soothe the ache that was starting to form there.
“Hey, relax. You’re all tensed up.” You gasped at the feeling of his cold hand on the heated skin of your bare thigh. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as you felt his thumb gently rub circles in an upwards direction.
If what James was already doing to you felt this good, you thought the pleasure he would bring to you if he touched you in other places would be beyond anything you felt in your life.
“I don’t like what you’ve been doing to me, babydoll.” James murmured into your ear, his voice making you melt. “What were you thinking? Tempting me last night in that short skirt and your tits practically on display? In front of my own son? Everyone else thinks you’re such a good girl, but I see right through you.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked in your confused and dizzy state.
James scoffed. “Even a Muggle would be able to read you. You’re just as terrible at Occlumency as you are talented at Legilimency.”
So he did know about your crush on him… the question was how long had he known?
“Oh, I’ve known for a while…” James smirked, answering your mind. “Since I was married, actually. And I’ve seen your little sex dreams. They’re even better than those cheap porno films. Don’t even try to deny it.”
“James… you’re scaring me.” Your lower lip quivered. How on earth did things escalate this fast? You were beyond horrified that he could see things in your mind that even you tried hiding from yourself. There was no going back now. No more lying to yourself that you only saw James as a father figure.
“Father figure?” James asked incredulously. “Quite frankly, I’m flabbergasted that with all the magic you have, you never once saw the things I’ve thought while I was around you. If you would’ve used Legilimency on me at all, you would’ve seen all those filthy thoughts I’ve had about you that no father should have.”
“James!” You gasped as his hand disappeared below your robe and landed on your hip bone.
You were clenching your thighs so hard that you could feel some of the stickiness from your cunt leaking onto them.
“Open your legs. I want to know how filthy my little girl is.” He whispered and you obeyed. You sucked in a breath as you felt his long index finger venture into the crease of your thigh before using it to collect your warm slick and spread it up and down your pussy. You moaned and instinctively grinded against his fingers.
“Have you always been this wet in front of me?” He whispered.
You shamefully looked down. You didn’t want to answer him, why should you when he already knew?
“Dad? Are you in there? Where’s-” You heard Harry’s voice from inside the living room.
“Yeah, she’s right here in the kitchen with me! Don’t come in yet! We’re both making a surprise breakfast for you!” James hurriedly interrupted him.
Really? You thought as you rolled your eyes. If things were to get more out of control, you’d be on your way to making a surprise baby.
You bit your lip as James slid his finger inside and curled them upwards hitting that deep spot within you that you couldn’t reach as well with your own shorter fingers. With his thumb, he rubbed tight circles around your clit, making your legs want to give out from underneath you. You didn’t know which of those two spots he was touching you felt better.
“Okay. Should I go wait in my room?” You almost forgot Harry was still there. What kind of game was James playing with you, talking to his son so casually as if he wasn’t doing something dirty with you?
“Yeah, we’ll call you over when we’re done!” James shouted. You let out an exhale as you heard Harry’s footsteps rush upstairs.
“Just look at you. My sweet, perfect little doll.” James’ eyes followed the fingers on his hand that weren’t buried in your cunt up and down your body. “Can I look at these?” He softly cupped his other hand under your breast making sure to give them a gentle squeeze.
You breathlessly nodded and tensed under his touch as he used his index finger to slide the robe off both of your shoulders. You felt your nipples harden into peaks at both the sudden air and James’ hungry gaze on them.
Your eyes slid shut as his lips left a trail of kisses that started from between your breasts and ended at the side of your neck where he started sucking on the sensitive skin. The harder James was sucking on that one area, the harder it became for you to hide your whimpers. With each pump of his fingers inside of you combined with the pleasure he was giving you on your neck, you felt your body getting closer towards the edge of something until you couldn’t hold on anymore. You couldn’t control your hips as they thrust themselves onto his hand. Your panting was shaking your body just as violently as did your orgasm.
“Oh, James.” You quietly whimpered into his ear as your hands found their way to his messy hair.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” His soft voice replied back.
“Feels so… good.” You pushed the sentence out of you as the last remaining trembles from your orgasm left your body along with James’ fingers.
“James!” You suddenly exclaimed, remembering. “Breakfast!”
“I know, I didn’t forget.” A smile broke out on his face.
He continued to look at you like you were the most perfect thing he’d seen as he helped put your robe back onto your shoulders and clean you up with a towel.
You were still blushing and avoiding eye contact with him while you were helping him in the kitchen, but that didn’t stop him from gently caressing any part of your body he could from behind you every few minutes.
You gasped every time his face would find the crook of your neck or his hands that would wrap around your waist.
Soon, James left to go knock on Harry’s bedroom door to let him know breakfast was ready while you stayed behind to get the table ready.
James came back (with a shirt on unfortunately) with Harry running like a little kid in front of him, dressed in jeans and a hoodie.
“I’m starving!” Harry shouted excitedly, eyeing his plate. You laughed at him, glad to see his energetic old self that you missed.
You and Harry mostly spent the rest of breakfast catching up some more, before he told you he’d leave soon to go to the Weasleys’ for the actual party they were throwing him where the rest of his friends would be.
James sat across from you while you sat next to Harry at the table like how it used to be.
“What happened to your neck?” You and James froze upon seeing Harry point to the bruise that was the same color as the jelly on his plate.
“I…tripped.” You promptly used your hair to cover up the area so that Harry wouldn’t have enough time to inspect it.
“You need to be more careful next time. The corners of the tables can be quite sharp.” James chided you gently as if he wasn’t the one that caused this.
“Oh. Funny how I didn’t hear you screaming earlier.” Harry shrugged. “You should put some ice on it.”
“Well you know she’s in Auror training and she’s been learning how to keep quiet.” James said with emphasis on the last two words with a sly look in your direction. He then got up to walk to the freezer.
He returned a moment later with an ice cube wrapped around a paper towel. You felt a spark where your fingers touched his as he handed it over to you, almost convincing you to put it over your reddening cheeks instead.
After the three of you had finished breakfast and Harry had disapparated out of the living room, it was you and James alone.
“Do you need me to help you wash dishes?” You asked awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I can stay here and help. I got the day off today.”
“Or you could wait for me in my bedroom.” James murmured as he sneakily slid his thumbs up your thighs. “You could help me in there.”
“Deal.” You got on your tiptoes and gave his cheek a quick kiss before departing for his bedroom.
As you came up in front of the door to James’ bedroom, your hands started to shake as you pushed it open. In all the time you spent there, this was the only room in the house you had never stepped foot in. You were starting to feel awkward, knowing this used to be Lily’s room too, and the bed that was in the middle of the room was most likely the same bed that she shared with James too.
You started to feel anxious with all these thoughts that popped in your mind like, “What if James is just using me as a distraction to help him get over Lily?” “Does James want me to replace her?” “Would I be insulting Lily’s memory if I slept with her husband on the same bed as her after everything she’s done for me?”
As for what you thought about James, you didn’t want to use him as someone to just sleep around with. You didn’t ever want to replace Lily. She was a completely different person from you. That was it. She was a person with thoughts and feelings, not some object with mass-produced replicas. You didn’t know how to answer that last question you asked yourself internally.
You walked over to the bed, taking the time to run your fingers over the soft blanket that covered the bed. You then took in the rest of the room. You watched the tree in front of the window shade the room from the full sunlight, giving the white walls and floor the illusion of a blue-ish gray undertone. You noticed that unlike the rest of the house, there was an absence of pictures. You assumed it was so that James wouldn’t be reminded of the pain of losing his wife as he was trying to go to sleep. Besides the bed, the only furniture there was were the drawers, a vanity, and a desk with a chair. The only two doors besides the entrance were what looked to be the master bathroom and the closet.
Although you and James had known each other for years, you didn’t feel right to go and snoop around his stuff. But he did snoop around your mind. Is that any different? That still wasn’t a good enough excuse for you to go through his physical stuff.
You instead elected to take a seat on the foot of the bed with your legs crossed, your mind spacing out over to the tree by the window.
“I hope someone didn’t start without me.” James’ voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was leaning on the doorframe, his glasses and side-smile leaning with him.
You shyly turned away as he took a seat next to you on the bed.
“You’re so pretty.” James said as he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “What’s wrong?”
He gently cupped your face with his other hand, turning you towards his direction. You nervously looked down to where your lips were nearly touching.
“Do you actually want to do this with me? Am I just a distraction for you?” You whispered the last sentence. You couldn’t bring yourself to mention Lily directly.
“No, Sweetheart. You’re so much better than that.” James brought one of your hands to his lips and kissed the back of it.
At that moment, James wanted you all to himself. He knew there would be consequences later if that happened. He could give you a choice to either sneak around with you behind his son’s back or go public with everyone else about your relationship and face the risk of shame. That was if you wanted it as much as he did, which he knew you did, but were you willing to give in and go that far? Would you change your mind?
And Harry? So what if he had a crush on you? You weren’t ever going to go for him anyways. James was the one who got what he wanted, not him. Not everyone gets what they want in life. Damn, he was thinking selfishly, so unlike how a father should.
No matter how happy or sad you looked, James couldn’t stop thinking of how gorgeous everything about you was, your eyes, your soft lips, the way your hair fell and framed your face, the blush on your cheeks that was as potent as the flame in his heart, it was like you were pulling him in without trying as his lips automatically found its way to yours.
As he got a taste of you, he knew he was instantly addicted. Just the taste of your lips wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hold your body close to him, so he wrapped his arm around you and grabbed one of your legs and put it over him, making you sit on his lap, facing him.
If he hadn’t required air to be alive, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to let go of you. The both of you were left panting as you got a look at each other.
“Take this off.” He pleaded, tugging at the string of your robe.
As soon as you took your satin robe off, he wasted no time in flipping you over onto your back, making your hair spill out below you and knocking the air out of you.
“I can finally have this beautiful body all to myself.” You mewled as his thumb flicked over the hardened bud on your breast.
“Aren’t you just deliciously adorable?” James let a filthy smirk grow on his face as he squeezed your breast and attached his mouth to your nipple, sucking on it. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”
You started to squirm more and more under him with each lick on your nipple until you couldn’t control your whimpering.
“It’s okay, Baby. You don’t need to hold back.” James cooed.
He got up from where he was above you. He yanked his white t-shirt over his head before he pulled down his sweatpants, revealing the outline of his erection in his boxers to you.
“Do you want to feel it?” James took a hold of your smaller hand. Sitting up, you bit your lip and nodded.
“It’s so…big.” The way your voice sounded so innocent like you were discovering something fascinating only made the hardness of his erection more painful. James sucked in a breath as your hand gave him a gentle squeeze.
“Fuck, open your legs.” He commanded urgently.
When you were too distracted by studying the dimensions of his cock to respond, James took matters into his own hands by jamming both hands between your knees to pry them apart.
The sight of your glistening arousal in front of him was a reward in itself. But he couldn’t stop there.
“I already made you cum today and you’re still wet for more. You’re such a greedy little slut.” James purred deeply. “How about this? You use those pretty lips to suck me off while you touch yourself.”
Your big doe eyes only widened at him as your mouth hung open. Just that look on your face only made James want to cum even more.
“Come on, Babydoll,” He reveled in how nervous and tiny he was making you feel. “Don’t be shy. I know you touch yourself while thinking about me. And now, I’m right here.”
He took your hand off his cock. He could feel your eyes studying his movements as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down, making his dick spring out in front of your face.
“Get on your knees.” He easily pulled your smaller body off the bed and onto the floor, while he took his seat where you were.
There you were, naked in front of him, on your knees, staring up at his cock, like you were worshiping it.
James could feel your hesitation as your fingers reached out over the tip.
“You wanna taste it?” James brushed his fingers through your hair, attempting to relax you. You nodded. “Why don’t you ask?”
“C-Can I taste it, please?” How could he ever deny you, especially with you asking him so innocently and politely?
“Of course.” He couldn’t take his eyes off yours as you continued looking up at him while letting his cock slip past your lips. You then reached your hand down between your legs, touching yourself just as he had instructed.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing with his eyes. You were there, really sucking his cock, making the dirty fantasies that had been manifesting inside him come true.
“Fuck, that’s it Baby.” James grunted as he pushed your head down on his cock. “You’re doing so well. You’re so perfect.”
When your wet tongue hit the vein on the underside, James let a string of curses erupt out of him. That seemed to encourage you to keep going as you wrapped your free hand around the base and pumped it in sync with your mouth.
A little while later, James could feel himself getting closer to cumming when his body tensed up.
“Keep going, Baby! Good job!” He kept praising you breathlessly as he stroked your cheek.
He finally felt his cum spill into your mouth as you swallowed it, some of it still spilling down your chin.
“Fuck,” James sighed as he gathered his cum that was on your chin with his thumb and pushed it into your mouth. He felt his gaze darken as you greedily sucked and licked the entire thing. “You’ve been such a good girl. Let me make it up to you.”
James pulled you off the floor and into his body, holding you close to him as he inhaled the scent of your perfume.
As you let the heat of James’ body wrap around you, he flipped you over so that you were on your back again. Glasses or no glasses, he was the most handsome man you’d seen in your life. You no longer gave a damn that he was almost old enough to be your father. Maybe you did have a type. He had made you feel like you were the most special girl in the entire world, and you never wanted to stop feeling that way.
“Hold onto me, okay? I’m going to make you feel good. Don’t you want that?” James asked as he kissed you under your jaw, making you whimper at the pleasure he was imposing on the sensitive area.
“Yeah I want your cock deep in my pussy.” James seemed surprised at the uncharacteristic filth that came out of you to which he raised his eyebrows.
“Fuck, I didn’t think you had such a filthy mouth to go with that innocent face.” James said as he brought his lips onto yours.
As he did so, you felt something against your entrance, presumably the tip of James’ cock. He wiggled around some more until he had finally coated his cock in the slickness of your walls.
“Are you alright?” James rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek.
You nodded as you bit your lip. You just needed a little time to adjust to him. His cock was longer and wider than anything you ever inserted into yourself. But he filled you up in the best way possible better than your fingers or even the handle of your hairbrush could.
“It feels so good James.” You were panting as you grabbed a hold of his shoulders. Another scream left you as James’ finger rubbed your clit, adding more pleasure to your cunt.
“I want you to cum for me, Beautiful.” James grunted as he continued to thrust his cock deep into you, making you whimper and moan under him.
You were now getting addicted to the full feeling of James’ cock inside you along with the stimulation on your clit. Your head was starting to feel like it was floating on clouds. In your cock-drunk state, you kept moaning James’ name and telling him how good he was making you feel, just how you did in your countless sex dreams about him.
You couldn’t believe this was real, and it was happening to you.
“James! James! Fuck! I’m so… so close.” You sobbed into his shoulder.
“I got you Baby.” He cooed.
“Feels so big and good…” You continued moaning sentences until it turned into incoherent mumbles.
The full feeling of James’ cock combined with the intense tingling on your clit had your walls squeezing around him soon. You started screaming James’ name again through your orgasm that flooded through you.
“Fucking hell!” He suddenly grabbed your hips, and looked at you as if something came over him.
He then pulled his cock out in the middle of your orgasm. He was kneeling above your spent body with his hard cock in his hand that was still coated in your juices.
With a couple strokes, you felt the warm liquid drip down onto your tits and your stomach. You were now painted with James’ cum, and he was the artist admiring his work.
Both of you took deep breaths as you looked at each other while coming down from your highs.
As soon as James had recovered, he got up and ran his hands through his messy hair. You were too tired to sit up, so you could only watch as he put on his boxers before he went into the master bathroom. You heard the water running, and not long after, James had returned with a towel in his hand.
“How do you feel?” He asked gently as he wiped the towel across where his cum was on your body.
“A little tired.” You sighed. James rubbed the towel in circular motions on your breasts, effectively massaging them. After he cleaned you up, he discarded the towel onto the nightstand.
“Come over here, Beautiful.” James opened his arms up and you rolled into his embrace. You closed your eyes as he pressed faint kisses on the back of your naked shoulder, making you shiver.
You were scared, but also excited to see what your future would look like with James.
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buwheal · 5 months
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[You've Got Mail!]
You can now send your favorite salesman emails!! YAY!!
Here's some rules and information about the askbox.
First and foremost;
I try to answer as many asks as I can, but I will not answer every single one. Sometimes I just cant do anything with it that will work realistically with the perimeters of the world, and I apologize!! Its nothing against you guys!!
(Unless you break the rules ofc.)
So if you dont see yours after a long while, it’s probably something that wont work, sorry! You can always send more than one ask whenever and see if that one works instead!
Besides that, here’s the rest of what you need to know!
[RULES] :
Spamton physically PRINTS OUT each "email", so dont send asks that have a physical interaction. Sorry! Thats just how i decided to set up the world/situation, and is not really anything against you guys :-)
(more of a request than a rule tbh) Preferably try to send real questions or statements. most joke asks are funny, but are surprisingly hard to create an in character response for. You can still send joke asks if you really want to, just dont expect an answer X-P
I know he may be a personification of spam emails... BUT DONT SPAM!!! I mean it! It clogs the askbox and is a real pain. You can send him more than one ask, though, as long as you arent repetitively sending a ton in a short burst!!
Dont be sexual or romantic, please! Even "As a joke". I dont like Spamton like that and it makes me uncomfortable, plus I can't really answer that in character in a way that wouldnt provoke more of that. Thank you!!
Be respectful and patient!! I am just one person doing everything, lol, and this got far more popular than anticipated, so i will take a long time. I try my best to get at least one out every other day but i'll need breaks eventually!!!
I cannot spawn or give/spawn/materialize things for/to Spamton if you ask because of the way it’s set up. You are really just lines of text from a computer to Spamton, BUT... You can still do a lot if you think outside the box. or,, errr,, outside the computer. Kind of. Your words and your actions affect him and his reactions to you, so word it correctly and you can get him to do something or say something. Hes not stupid though, and he CAN usually tell when your intentions are... less.. than good.
[INFORMATION] :
[YGM!] is technically an AU!!! not only do the events of the game not occur, but this is also set before then!
Asks are put out one a day, regardless if i have more than one, UNLESS i need to connect two(or more) to complete one event.
I am one person doing every ask and every unique frame of art, so expect 1 ask (If youre lucky, two) maybe every other day Monday-Friday depending on my workload per day. I have weekends off so more asks, around 2-3, CAN (but usually arent) be done for future use.
This is just for fun!! I am using the askbox to exercise my drawing consistency, Spamton's personality, and the way he speaks and responds to different situations! This is a way I am using to improve my understanding of him as a character, so it wont be always consistent as I am growing and learning!
Just a little disclaimer, he WILL be mean. He is a sour, nasty, grumpy, bastard and I am absolutely not opposed to him responding as such. Just keep that in mind when sending an ask if you dont want that!
If you want a common outcome, talk to other people about it! go crazy! I dont mind long threads on my posts if you want to create a plan. Infact, I can even help and tell you things occasionally!!
What you say to him DOES and WILL affect the way he responds. Trust is lost far easier than it is gained, so keep this in mind. It is possible to regain his trust, but still hard. He is not a trusting person to begin with and being mean certainly doesnt help. BUT.. I am not opposed to being mean. Infact, they are quite fun to do. Either way is entertaining for me, so do as you will. YOU can choose to hurt or help him.
Using tone tags, while not required, are really helpful and assist me in understanding the intention in your ask if you think it may be interpreted another way! (i.e. sarcasm) :-)!!
I pick and choose asks depending on his situation, or if i have a good idea for a response, so you may need to wait a bit before i can get to yours!! Ones that i have an idea for take priority, especially when its to progress a scene. Or, alternatively, i am saving your ask for something i have planned.
I WILL reuse frames and poses to get these out faster and for my convienence :-) especially for the frames where there is no need to change his pose! So like.. dont think too hard about it lol.
Also, i prefer if you specify if the ask is for me /or/ Spamton. I do still do normal asks, lol. If its for me, just let me know!! I can usually tell, but most asks will be interpreted as for Spamton. I appreciate ones that start with his name before said thing is asked/stated specifically!! (i.e. "Spamton, __ __ __")
I wont be consistent with the way its answered. Sometimes it's one panel, sometimes its a couple panels, or sometimes they're animated gifs!! It varies depending on what i feel, so if youre lucky you can get a gif, lol. Those take longer usually though. Ive mostly switched to a gif formatting rather than multiple panels in a comic style, for the formatting! The animation quality can vary :-)
Thats about it!! Have fun!! ^_^
154 notes · View notes
raythekiller · 11 months
Note
omggg the masky nsfw alphabet was 😍
how abt eyeless jack nsfw alphabet? maybe? :)
🦇 anon
🗒 ❛ NSFW Alphabet ༉‧₊˚✧
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Featuring: Eyeless Jack
#Notes: THERE'S LIKE 4 OTHER PEOPLE ASKING FOR HIS NSFW ALPHABET IN MY INBOX, FINA YALL WILL WRITE IT 😭
pronouns used: none, gn! reader
˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗
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A - AFTERCARE 
Will absolutely not let go of you. The whole act is so personal and intimate and important to him he can't help but want to hold you close.
B - BODY PART 
Pretty nonsexual, but your face. He just thinks you look so pretty, even if he can't see properly.
C - CUM 
Major breeding kink, will cum inside of you multiple times in a row until you're filled to the brim.
D - DIRTY SECRET 
He's never had actual sex before, most far he's ever gotten was a blowjob or two.
E - EXPERIENCE 
As mentioned above, not too experienced, but he makes up for it with his eagerness and will to satisfy you.
F - FAVORITE POSITION 
Mating press. He's able to thrust deeper, hold you close and stare at your face all at the same time.
G - GOOFY 
He gets into an animalistic state and is unable to speak, so humor isn't really that present.
H - HAIR 
Clean shaven, makes him feel more hygienic. It's darker than his hair.
I - INTIMACY
Again, unable to speak, but the way he's clinging to you like his life depends on it says it all.
J - JACK OFF
Barely does it at all, unless he's got someone on his mind, then he'll do it a couple times every week.
K - KINK
Here's a full post on his kinks.
L - LOCATION 
Definitely the bedroom, yours or his. Makes it more private and personal.
M - MOTIVATION 
Hates to admit it, but your scent drives him crazy. Even better if you're horny, since he can smell your arousal in the air. It's intoxicating.
N - NO
Either of you being tied up is a hard no. He doesn't like it on himself for obvious reasons (cult sacrifice) and doesn't like it on you cause he's afraid he might lose control and needs you to be able to get away from him if he does.
O - ORAL 
Definitely giving. Those tongues of his work miracles.
P - PACE
Starts off slow and sensual, becomes brutal and animalistic after a while.
Q - QUICKIE
Prefers taking his time with you, so quickies aren't really a thing you do often.
R - RISK 
Pretty vanilla when it comes to this. Doesn't like experimenting or doing anything risky, but might budge if you ask nicely.
S - STAMINA
Just doesn't get tired. Only stops when you beg him to, otherwise he's gonna be breeding you for days.
T - TOYS 
Doesn't own or like to use any. Just doesn't see the point in it.
U - UNFAIR
Ends up accidently teasing you with how much foreplay he does, but it's completely unintentional.
V - VOLUME
Barely moans, only growls and groans. His noises are deep and raspy, unlike his normally calm and gentle speaking voice.
W - WILD CARD 
Sometimes when you're away, he sneaks into your room and jerks himself off on your bed, inhaling your scent off the sheets and pillowcase.
X - X-RAY 
This motherfucker is big, almost 11 inches, although not too thick.
Y - YEARNING
His sex drive isn't normally high, but he has some "heat periods" to deal with where he gets extremely needy.
Z - ZZZ 
Waits for you to fall asleep first, just relishing in the fact that you trust and feel comfortable around him enough to be at your most vulnerable. Will drift off after with a smile on his face.
361 notes · View notes
palioom · 1 year
Text
say my name (javier peña x f!reader)
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summary: after along day and many setbacks at work, you invite an exhausted javier over to a drink at your place. but you both have more than just a drink on your mind. pairing: javier peña x f!reader word count: 7.6k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames); smoking & drinking, swearing (lots of swearing), rough sex, some choking, biting, some spanking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, teasing because javier is an asshole
• masterlist •
It was late at the DEA headquarters, the clock almost striking midnight, and yet, some few offices were still lit brightly, the fluorescent lights buzzing above the occupants. In one such office, two people were still buried in heaps upon heaps of paperwork, the air stale from the copious amounts of cigarettes smoked as they worked, the ashtray about to overflow.
They were all Javier’s, the stress of the day having him smoking one after the other, as if his life depended on it. 
At this point, it might as well.
She sat at a table not too far away from his, head in her hands as she looked over photos and transcripts, trying to find something. 
Something that would help Peña and Murphy to catch another narco. Another sicario.
Maybe even Escobar himself. 
She was tired, so damn tired, a good gallon of coffee or two pumping through her veins. Coffee, just because she wasn’t about to get fired for drinking on the job.
Though, with the amount of trips people took to the file rooms or bathrooms, the not-so-secret turns of bodies into a corner before their head flew back, a little silver glint here and there. Yeah, she wouldn’t even stand out trying to cope with this job through alcohol.
All while this wasn’t even her job. 
Not truly, at least. 
She was here to assist the two agents in their hunt, having been delegated to desk duty after she had been injured and declared unfit for field work years back. 
But that didn’t mean she was expected to stay here for more than half a day, killing her eyes and her sleep along with her personal life and, god knows what else, while looking at these damn papers and chugging coffee as if it was the elixir of life.
To some, it probably was.
The words didn’t even make fucking sense anymore and she wondered how long she had been rereading the same paragraph for. 
Hell, how long had she tried to make sense of the first three words of this damn sentence already?
No, this was a personal thing for Peña. Having started off rocky, his cocky and flirtatious attitude colliding with her loud, easily irritable mouth, they had formed some form of friendship over their time together here. 
That had taken some time and effort, though.
He kept her sane with his no-nonsense mouth, so far away from her family back in the States that she wasn’t allowed to talk about anything with.
And she kept him out of trouble as much as she could.
Which sometimes meant she took the blame for some of his blunders. Or those of Murphy. 
They weren’t exactly just a few blunders.
God, she hated them sometimes.
Looking over at Javier, he didn’t seem to fare much different from her; cigarette in one hand as the other one rubbed his temple. He looked fucking exhausted, worse so than her, probably. Which was no wonder, given he had been out there hunting Escobar today, he had been out there and had him slip right through his hands. 
In a way, it was her fault as well, not finding the clues to his whereabouts and plans quickly enough and then puzzling them together wrong, infecting everyone with her falsely constructed theory.
Escobar had escaped by mere minutes.
The talking-to she got from Messina had been fucking awful. Not even Peña had tried to argue.
She had been beating herself up all day over this, trying to do better on a new pile of intel, trying to recall all the mistakes that could have led to her fucking this up so hard and finding a way to avoid them. It probably was part of the reason she had stayed even after Murphy had thrown in the towel, citing Connie as to why. 
That, and because she wanted to help Javier out, somehow. Maybe even look after him. 
God knows he needed someone to do so.
“You good, Peña?” She asked, squinting at him. These horrible lights had her eyes hurting, bringing a small headache with them.
He looked up at her, eyes tired and taking a drag of his cigarette. “I’m fine, hermosa. You?”
She still hated these flirtatious nicknames. 
“Don’t lie to me, Peña.” She responded, rubbing a hand over her face as she leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs. The rhythmic ticking of the clock had her glance over at it for a moment before looking back at him. “You look fucking awful. Think about calling it a day yet?”
Javier shook his head, brows furrowed as he exhaled the smoke. “There’s gotta be something we missed.” His brown eyes darted back down to the paper in front of him, flying over the small, black letters.
She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest with an annoyed glare. That was the one thing she hated about him, still, besides his attitude. 
That tendency to work himself into the grave if need be. 
“Javi.” His name only earned a small hum as he kept looking over the paper, so she repeated it again. She only really used this version of his name when she was serious. “Javi. Look at me.”
He did, eyes finding her face again with raised brows. 
“What?” 
There wasn’t even an attempt to hide the annoyance in his voice.
“You’ll work yourself into the ground if you keep this up.” The sternness in her voice was underlined with a hint of concern. When he tried to protest, she didn’t even acknowledge it. “Wanna give these fuckers out there a reason to celebrate? You need a fucking rest.”
A moment of silence.
“I know you can’t even fucking comprehend the words in front of you anymore.”
He sighed. A hint of defeat. 
Arguing with Javier Peña wasn’t exactly easy. The agent always had a response to everything, needing to have the last word.
Stubbing out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, he let his head fall into his hands, rubbing both of his temples with a groan. “We’ll never get him if we stop now, hermosa.” He said, voice rough. It wasn’t hard to overhear just how exhausted he was, it took an idiot not to notice.
“We won’t get him either if we drop dead from exhaustion, Javier.” There was a harshness to what she said, the words coming out rougher than she had intended them to. It was the only thing he ever really heard, though. “I’m asking you to stop for tonight, not to blow all of this off indefinitely.”
Javier didn’t respond, still rubbing his temples. With the way his hands were positioned she couldn’t see his face, so she wasn’t sure if he was thinking about her words or just ignoring her. 
There would be hell if he ignored her now. “I’m worried about you, Javi.” 
Maybe the caring approach would help, she knew he reserved a soft spot for her deep under those way too tight shirts of his. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Let’s call it a day, it’s almost midnight. Join me for a drink at my place, then go home. Or stay. I don’t care.” Another moment of silence.
“You only wanna hitch a ride.” He said, a smirk evident in his tone even if she couldn’t see it.
It made her chuckle, “Yeah, maybe.” 
He sighed deeply, lifting his head and looking at her with the smirk he had been hiding, his eyes twinkling a little as he lifted an eyebrow briefly. “Alright, let’s pack up.”
Thank God it worked, she sighed internally, still smiling as she packed her few belongings and put them in her purse. In quick movements she had gotten up and grabbed her leather jacket off the back of her chair, happy to get out of the stale air of the office.
“You can be quite convincing, sweetheart.” He chuckled, fishing another smoke out of the box in his shirt pocket. If the narcos didn’t kill him, it sure as fuck would be those things. “Gotta admit that. Too bad you’re not doin’ field work anymore.”
She rolled her eyes, walking down the long corridor alongside him, trying to keep up with his long strides. A million times she had told him to lay off the flirty names at work, else someone could get the wrong impression.
It wasn’t difficult not to, with his reputation.
It didn’t help that she was attracted to him, brushing off his attempts over and over again because she didn’t want to be another girl under his belt. Not that she’d ever tell him that, instead just feigning a lack of interest, which he always responded to with a stupid comment of his.
“Peña.” She warned, raising a brow as she looked over at him. “Stop calling me sweetheart, Javier. Someone’s gonna get the wrong impression, I told you.”
Javier chuckled again, putting away his lighter. “Why not, sweetheart?” A smirk stretched the dark mustache wide over his lips, looking down at her in forged innocence, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “What wrong impression could they get, baby?”
A long groan escaped her, grinding her teeth together as her jaw flexed. 
He’d be the death of her. 
“No ‘baby’, either. Fucking Christ, Javier.” Rubbing a hand over her face, she sighed in annoyance, eyeing the exit just a few feet away from her. “Because people will think that we’re fucking. There’s enough gossip as is.”
The thought of calling him something as equally as embarrassing had crossed her mind many times, names ranging from ‘hot stuff’ to ‘goober’ to ‘lover boy’. But something told her he’d just find it amusing as hell.
“Alright, alright. Don’t wanna taint your reputation, princess.” Javier conceded, the smirk on his face growing wider as he saw her face go red, eyes narrowing as she let out another annoyed groan. It was so easy to get under her skin.
“You motherfucker.” She grumbled, giving him a playful shove as his arm wrapped around her shoulders for a moment, pulling her against him with a laugh.
The car ride to her apartment went by mostly in silence, some slow Latin songs playing on the radio, the streets empty. She looked at him as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out the window, eyes fixed on the road. It was a wonder he could still drive, as tired as he looked, bags under his eyes, hair disheveled.
He looked so different when he didn’t think he was being watched, still his stern self but he was more relaxed, looked more open. It was what she often recognized in herself, that need to overplay how he really felt, deep inside.
It didn’t make him less attractive, though. Especially in the flickering lights passing by them. Highlighting the way his forearms flexed as he turned the wheel, the prominent veins on the back of his hand.
His lovely, big nose, thick mustache and those fucking plush lips.
What they’d feel like on hers?
Javier caught her staring, looking over at her with a smirk, thumb of his free hand swiping along his bottom lip. “Like what you see?”
She groaned, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “Fuck off.”
“Gotta have a reason for starin’.” He added, dark eyes moving back to the road but finding great joy in her reaction. “Thinking about more than just a drink?”
“Lord help me.” She sighed, a hand running through her hair, seeing him round the corner to pull into the parking lot of her apartment complex. “No, I was thinking about asking you to stay the night.” 
Seeing his smirk widen in the corner of her eye, she realized that she had only given him another thing to jump on, quickly adding, “You’re tired, I know it won’t be just one drink and I can’t let you drive any more in this state, fucking hell.”
Parking his Jeep and turning off the engine, he looked over at her, squeezing her knee briefly. 
Why was he always so goddamn touchy? 
His warm hand made her heart skip a beat.
An amused twinkle laid in his eyes. “If you say so.” 
 “I hate you.”
Her eyes narrowed, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“You don’t.” Unbuckling as well, he opened the door. “C’mon, princess, let’s get inside.”
“Thin. Fucking. Ice.” She growled, exiting the car and walking off.
Inside, she threw her purse and jacket on a kitchen chair, opening the top buttons of her dark blouse while Javier made a beeline straight to the kitchen cabinet he knew housed her alcohol. 
She had been itching to open this damn collar all day, the Colombian heat doing her in, but she was worried about the leering stares of other agents. So, she had sweat and suffered in silence, fanning herself with anything in her reach, glancing at Javier who could just walk around with practically his entire shirt undone, not worrying about a damn thing.
The display had made things a little more bearable, at least.
Fuck, she really wasn’t better than any of the men, was she?
“What d’you want?” He asked, taking her out of her thoughts. As if he didn’t already know the answer. “Wine? Or whiskey?”
“Bold of you to offer me the contents of my cabinet, Peña.” She laughed, leaning on the counter top of the small kitchen island. “I need a whiskey.”
Closing the cabinet doors, he twisted the cap off the Jim Beam, pouring each of them a drink. She watched him, his back turned to her, seeing his muscles move under the tight, tan shirt. 
In a way she was grateful not to do any field work anymore, she probably would have problems concentrating if this was her view all day, his short sleeved shirt half undone, sweat glistening on his neck and chest as he handled his gun.
It made her feel hot in more ways than one.
Damn, she needed that drink badly.
Turning around, he handed one glass to her. Holding his own into the air, he said, “To catching these bastards.”
She raised her own, cheersing him. “To catching these bastards.” She echoed, downing the dark liquid in one gulp, grimacing as the burn traveled down the back of her throat. A warmth settled in her stomach, spreading through her body almost instantly and letting her relax a little. 
If only there wasn’t another familiar heat, settling deep in her abdomen as she watched him take a sip.
“C’mon.” She said, rounding him to grab the bottle of bourbon, walking into the direction of the living room. “Let’s sit on the sofa a little.”
Javier stared after her, taking one more sip as he shook his head before he followed, watching her flop down into the soft cushions with a content sigh, kicking off her shoes. 
“My type of woman.” He chuckled, finishing his glass and sitting down next to her, taking off his shoes as well. There was a small distance between them, not big enough for another person to fit, but to leave each of them a bit of space. “I’m actually quite surprised you can finish a glass of whiskey that quickly, hermosa.”
He set his glass down on the small coffee table in front of them, throwing his pack of smokes down next to it after he fished them out of his shirt pocket. “I wouldn’t be able to say the same about most girls I know.”
“Whoa, totally not sexist at all, Peña.” She laughed, pouring them both the second round of whiskey before leaning back into the cushions with a shake of her head. “It’s all practice, drink enough of this stuff and anything is possible, you should know.”
“Practice.” He scoffed, raising a brow and leaning back as well, his drink untouched. “This isn’t practice. You’re a special one, sweetheart.”
She shrugged her shoulders, looking at him with a smirk as she brought her glass to her lips.
“A woman who can handle her liquor,” Javier mused, looking right at her, “I wonder what else you can handle.”
The whiskey burned as she choked on it, coughing hard as some of it shot up her nose. 
Fucking hell, he couldn’t be serious about that. 
She wiped away the liquid that had spilled down her chin with the back of her hand, still sputtering. “What are you implying?”
There was a playful twinkle in his eyes, watching with amusement as she tried to regain her composure, her cheeks flushing red. It was adorable in a way, different from how she quipped when surrounded by people at the headquaters.
“I mean liquor, guns, maybe...” He laughed, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa as he leaned back against the arm rest, legs opening slightly. There was a brief moment where he caught her stare traveling down, right to the middle of his tight jeans. “What else would I be implying?”
Of course he caught her staring.
“Knowing you, it could be anything.” 
God, he was teasing her relentlessly today, unsure if the alcohol made her cheeks flush crimson or the way he looked at her, that stupid smirk of his always on his handsome face. Him spreading his legs like that must’ve been on purpose, too.
One of his stupid flirting attempts. He couldn’t even stop when he was on the brink of collapse.
Leaned back on her sofa like this, alcohol in his system, he seemed to come alive a bit. Features still tired but some energy in his brown eyes now.
He chuckled, grabbing his glass and this time he was the one to knock it back all at once, grimacing only the faintest bit at the burn, a low hiss leaving him. “My mind’s still on you downing that glass. It’s hot, cariño.”
Javier leaned forward now, definitely intruding in her space. Eyes flickering down to her open collar, they lingered for just a little too long, trying to make out what she was wearing underneath.
He’d be damned if she was fucking naked under this.
That thought made him strain against his pants, shifting his hips.
He subconsciously licked his lips as he looked back up into her dark eyes. 
They were pretty, he thought, looking back at him with a mix of uncertainty and something that he would describe as lust. The blush on her cheeks was clearly visible now, a broad hand coming up to brush his knuckles over one of them before moving to put some strands of hair behind her ear. Then, it landed on her thigh, squeezing it.
“You know what else is hot?”
He could feel the shiver running through her, the breath hitching in her throat at the question. At the touch of his hand.
She was a goner.
Despite that, she just looked at him with raised eyebrows, trying to play it cool, hoping he couldn’t see her heart beat in her throat.
Why the fuck did she opt for the whiskey? The way he looked at her made her feel way too hot, that heat in her abdomen spreading through her veins into every part of her body.
She could feel the wetness between her thighs.
“No, what is?”
She hoped she sounded as calm and collected as she wanted to sound.
In reality, she didn’t. Javier picked up on it immediately.
“You, hermosa. You know that, right?”
His eyes were fixed on hers, the hand on her thigh coming up to her face again, brushing along her lower lip now.
He had noticed her stares in recent times, glued to him when she thought he hadn’t noticed. The way she practically ate him up, undressed him, her dark eyes roaming over his exposed chest and arms. How she had looked at his hands, even if he was only twirling a pen in it.
How they flitted away when she felt caught, almost managing to look collected and innocent.
Almost.
Javier had been right to assume her excuses of no interest had been bullshit. She was just playing hard to get, much to his frustration.
He’d had an eye on her ever since they met, and as much as he tried to tell himself that she was just pretty, just a loud mouth he would like to shut up, as he fucked someone else, his mind always came back to her.
Even when they got closer, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of what she’d sound like moaning his name as he pounded into her.
Often he had felt guilty about that.
Now, he was sure she had done the same with him.
And if she wasn’t interested in him? If she was just reacting to him the way she did right now because she was exhausted and the alcohol addled her mind? Then this was just a fun, little flirt.
Something she would groan at him for now, curse at him for later, but it didn’t hurt to try.
“Getting quite red, cariño.” Javier chuckled when she stayed silent, leaning even closer. “Where’s that mouth of yours?”
She really didn’t know how to respond, mind blank save for the thoughts about how inviting his lips seemed.
Looking down at her drink for a moment before looking back up at him, she sighed.
Fuck it.
Turning her face away just briefly enough to knock back the glass of whiskey, she set it down on the table with a loud bang before surging forward and kissing him hard, hands cradling his face.
His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her closer, kissing her back hungrily, drawing a moan out of her when he bit her bottom lip. Moving away from her mouth, he kissed down her jaw to her neck, biting her pulse point.
“Not interested, huh?”
“Shut the fuck up and kiss me, Peña.”
Pulling him back to her mouth, she heatedly pressed her lips to his again, feeling his fingers dig harder into her hips as she did so. 
All the gossip that had floated through the headquarters was true. 
Javier Peña definitely knew what he was doing, she thought when his tongue slipped into her mouth.
It sent a jolt of electricity right through her, heat pooling in her abdomen.
She pushed him back firmly to lay down on the sofa, climbing on top of him as he watched with an amused smile, his eyes blown dark. Determination and hunger resided in hers, straddling him and bending down to find his lips again.
Returning to their place on her hips, his hands pulled her down. When her middle ground just lightly into the sizable tent in his tight jeans, she moaned.
He quite enjoyed that noise.
“Is my princess a little angry?” Javier cooed with a cocky smirk between kisses. Using a moment of distraction, he placed a kiss on her forehead.
All to get more of a rise out of her.
“I like this side of you, so dominating. Who could’ve known, hermosa.”
“Don’t fucking ‘princess’ me, you dick.” She growled, breathing hard, lips now moving over his jaw, the slight stubble there scratching her. Finding that sensitive spot just below his ear, she bit into it, smirking when a low groan bubbled in his throat. “Don’t fucking baby me, either.”
Thank fuck for the liquor giving her a confidence boost, as well as bringing back the energy to spar with him.
“Someone’s feisty.” He commented, mouth close to her ear and biting into the lobe. Hot breath fanned over it with every word of his. “Why the change of attitude now?”
“Cause of your cocky ass.” She replied, sitting up to unbutton some more buttons of her shirt before pulling it over her head, revealing a black, lacy bra. 
A smug smile creeped onto her lips as she stared down at him, seeing Javier take in her form, his fingers inching just a little higher, the rough pads digging into the bare, warm skin of her hips. 
For the slightest moment, his smirk fell, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Finding her eyes, though, it sprung back, a lopsided smirk stretching his mustache wide again. 
“You and your fucking mouth, your cocky fucking attitude.” Leaning back down to him, she continued, becoming quieter, but her voice didn’t lose any of its fire. “Your goddamn fucking looks, Peña.”
Mouths back on one another, fighting for dominance, his hands roamed down. Splaying wide over her ass, Javier took a handful and squeezed, really grinding her down against his middle so she could feel him, dragging another moan out of her lungs.
He was fucking hard.
She could feel the self-satisfied smirk against her lips, his mustache tickling her.
Javier truly was gonna be the death of her.
One hand came up to her jaw, gripping it firmly. Not enough to hurt, only to make her feel the strength of it before he pulled her away from him, just far enough to take in her face. “I’m cocky, huh?”
She groaned, struggling against his grip just a little before deciding to give up. Still, she stared right into his eyes, narrowing her own just slightly.
“Yeah, you’re fucking cocky.” It was barely a whisper, but the words still had a bite to them. “You cocky hijo de puta.”
Javier watched her eyes twinkle as she said it, clearly gunning for a reaction from him as a wicked grin stretched her pretty lips wide. 
If she thought he’d give it to her this easily, she was sorely mistaken.
“I am, but you love it, cariño.” Pulling her closer to him, his mouth was over her ear again, speaking low. “Admit it.”
His voice sent a shiver down her spine and he watched as her eyes transformed, a fire lighting inside them.
She did like it, feeling how wet she got the more he talked. But she would never admit it. 
It would please him too much.
“Jódete.” 
A breathy chuckle escaped him.
“Say that again for me.” Javier whispered. “I like the sound of it when you say it like that. It's fucking hot.”
There was no denying that it turned him on, the way she swore and challenged him. His hips shifted slightly underneath her, dick twitching in his jeans.
The tight denim became uncomfortable at this point.
“Jódete.” Every syllable was punctuated firmly, grin still on her face. “You’re such a cocky motherfucker, Peña.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You sure know how to use that mouth of yours.”
His free hand roamed over her back, toying with the clasps of her bra. It was obvious that he didn’t plan on opening it just yet, just trying to rile her up a little more. 
Even though he really wanted to see those pretty tits without their confinements.
“I really like that about you, hermosa.”
“You haven’t even seen me use it yet.” She whispered against his lips, fighting against his hand to kiss him hard.
Moving her hands to the small buttons of his shirt, a groan of frustration slipped out of her mouth and into his as she fumbled with them. The more agitated she got, the harder it seemed to grab a hold of them.
Javier enjoyed feeling her struggle, only aiding her when she nearly ripped the buttons off the garment, placing his broad hands over hers. “Need help?”
She wanted to wipe the smugness off his face. That stupid, flashy grin of his.
“Fuck you.” She whispered, lips trailing over his jaw to his neck, leaving marks with her teeth. The small hum rising in his throat was more felt than heard by her, traveling further down to the newly exposed skin, nipping at it. “Fucking bastard.”
Her hands slid out underneath his, exploring his tan chest, feeling the muscles as she moved them down his sides. 
Fuck, the glimpse of chest he showed at work really only was an appetizer. 
The way his muscles danced under her fingertips as she moved them over his ribs, then down to his stomach excited her, only feeling hotter when she reached the trail of hair vanishing under the band of his jeans.
Javier wasn’t jacked, she already knew that, loving when his stomach popped out over his pants just a little. But feeling the relative softness of it just made her love it more.
“Strange way of saying thank you.” Watching her for a moment, he closed his eyes and craned his neck with a grunt as she sucked a bruise into his chest, placing a firm bite just a few inches away after. 
A slap, followed by a sharp gasp echoed in the room, his hands colliding with her ass, a retaliation for the bite.
That definitely turned her on, more heat pooling in her stomach. And he probably felt the involuntarily roll of her hips as well.
She wouldn’t let him know, though.
The daggers she shot at him through her eyes did nothing to diminish the gleeful expression on his face as she sat up straight. That really lit a fire in her, her hands reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, feeling too confined by the black lace.
“You wanna stay here?” She breathed, sliding the bra off of her shoulders and throwing it across the room. The corners of her mouth curled up as she watched his eyes widen just marginally, tongue flicking out again and his jaw setting. “Or you wanna move it to my bed?”
A beat of silence.
Just briefly, for a tiny, tiny moment, she thought she had shut him up for good. She should have known better than to expect a pair of breasts to silence Javier Peña.
“Your call, princess.” There was that teasing asshole again, one hand wandering up and groping at one breast, chuckling at the weak roll of her hips. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over the hardened peak and he wanted to frame the sight of her as she threw her head back, neck exposed and hair falling over her shoulders. “I’m down for whatever, so lead the way. Take command, show me what you’re all about.”
He also wanted to frame the sight of her as her head rolled forward again, piercing right through him with the determination and heat in her eyes.
That fucking nickname really spurred her on. 
This was a challenge now.
“Fuck. You.” She breathed heavily, moving so she could reach his belt. Opening the metal buckle, she worked on the button of his jeans next. “What I’m all about? I’ll show you what I’m all about, Peña.”
Wrenching the fabric open, she let her hand glide in, wrapping her fingers around his cock, finding him hard and leaking as his hips jerked up into her touch. “You’ll say my name like a fucking prayer when I’m done with you, asshole.”
He swallowed hard, his jaw set. The feeling of her fingers was incredible, and he had to restrain himself from fucking into her fist when she moved her hand. If she wanted a challenge, she would get one.
“Yeah? You gonna make me say your name?” Javier breathed, hands moving to unbutton her pants. “Pretty sure it’s the other way around, sweetheart.”
He pulled on the denim, movements rough. He was aided by her as she took her hands away from his cock and shifted so he could yank them down her legs before throwing them to the side, followed by her black panties. 
When she went to remove his jeans, however, one of his hands twisted into her hair, yanking her down and against his lips, tearing a surprised moan from her which he used to slip his tongue into her mouth.
In any other scenario, she would have loved to simply give in to him, letting him manhandle her and fuck her into the couch. But right now, she was much too proud, much too determined to shut his cocky mouth up than to give him control.
She’d show him who was the boss here.
His free hand slid between them, a finger gliding through the lips of her cunt, finding her soaked. Her hips stuttered, moaning again when he ghosted over her swollen clit.
“Yeah, you’ll show me?” He mocked, applying just the faintest bit of pressure and watching as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. What a fucking sight. “With a pussy this wet for me already?”
There wasn’t a chance in the world she would get him to submit, hearing her moan after barely being touched. Maybe he should let her try, it would be fun to see her exhaust herself at the attempt.
He bet she would crumble not long from now, even if he enjoyed this back and forth massively.
“Fucking show me, then.” Letting go of her with a push, he leaned back, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at her expectantly. “Go on, hermosa.”
She sat up, breathing hard. Seeing him like this, laid back and relaxed as if this didn’t even faze him at all - as if he was on fucking holiday at some beach and enjoying the sun - it only made her angry, determined to get him to break.
“You smug motherfucker.” She whispered.
Moving off of him, she pulled down his jeans hastily, underwear coming off with it, suppressing a groan when she straddled him again, feeling his cock slide through her folds. She braced herself on his chest, breasts pushed forward and rolling her hips so she slid over him, just teasing him with a smile. 
It seemed to do more for her than it did for him, though. He didn’t even take his eyes off her face, even though she knew he really wanted to watch her pussy get his cock soaked.
Javier barely fucking reacted at all.
His stubbornness was admirable, she had to give him that.
As much as she wanted to continue to tease him, trying to draw him out somehow, she was also reminded of her own need for him, clenching around nothing when the head of his cock nudged against her clit. 
Biting her lip, she reached down, positioning herself so he was lined up with her and slowly sank down on him, watching his reaction.
A tiny crack showed in his self control, his teeth grinding together as he felt how tight she was around him, brown eyes flicking down to where she was sinking down on him. 
The sight of him spearing her open was mesmerizing.
“Mierda.” It was so quiet she almost overheard it, her mind dizzy from how fucking good he stretched her open, clenching around him when he was buried all the way to the hilt.
“Fuck, you’re huge.” It slipped out of her in a breathless whisper, mentally scolding herself for saying it out loud and hoping he hadn’t heard. 
No need to stroke his ego more.
But he had heard, his eyes moving back up to hers, mustache stretched wide over his lips once more.
Fuck.
“I am, huh, baby?” Javier grinned, arms still behind his head, biceps tensing. “A nice, huge cock to stretch that tight pussy of yours open. You like that, hm?”
Of course she fucking liked it. Growling in frustration as she grit her teeth, she threw her head back, looking at the ceiling. His words only made her cunt pulse around him, hating that he would feel it, too.
Slowly, she lifted herself up, biting her lip to stifle a moan when she had almost moved off of him before sinking all the way back down. 
She would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her, too.
“C’mon, baby, where’s that mouth of yours?” He nodded at her, brows furrowed in mock concern. Feeling her pulse around him amused him, but he really needed to hear her fight back.
So, he put himself into the game, one hand gripping her hair again to bend her down to him, lips almost touching while the other grabbed her hip so hard it would leave bruises.
Oh, she liked that, too.
“Tell me you like it, baby.”
“Fuck you.”
His grip tightened, hips thrusting up into her. It took her by surprise, jolting forward with a loud moan, and Javier pushed her hips down onto him again, giving her no way to escape.
“That really all you can come up with?” He set a harsh pace, meeting every thrust of hers, pushing himself all the way in.
“Shut your fucking mouth, cabrón.” She could feel him twitch inside her, smiling breathlessly when she realized that he seemed to enjoy the bit of Spanish she had picked up from working here. “Don’t wanna hear your fucking voice unless you start chanting my name.”
He couldn’t help the laugh that left him. “Your pussy’s telling me somethin’ different.”
His hand left her hair, moving to her hips as well as he accentuated his words with a harsh snap of his hips, pressing her down into his lap when their lips met again and he swallowed her sounds.
He controlled the roll of her hips with his hands, feeling her struggling against his grip. Right now, he just wanted to break down her resolve, make her call out for him.
A sharp slap on her ass almost got him what he wanted.
“Ja-” She cut herself off before his name fully slipped out, head dropping to the crook of his neck and stifling the moan bubbling in her throat as she sank her teeth into the skin there which only earned her another slap.
Shit, she was close. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she had bit off more than she could chew. 
He seemed absolutely solid, so in control of himself while she struggled, hard.
“C’mon, princess,” he grunted, punctuating the nickname with a snap of his hips, “that’s it, pretty girl, you almost had it. Just say it.”
The mocking strengthened her determination as much as it made that coil inside her tighten, close to the edge. 
Her lips moved along his neck, teeth nipping at his skin in an attempt to drag him closer to the edge as well, her hips grinding down on him harder.
It was working, but he wouldn’t show that so easily.
When one of his hands moved in between them, finding her sensitive clit, aching for friction, a whine slipped past her lips, pussy squeezing him so tightly that a groan rumbled in his chest.
“You’re fucking unfair.” She groaned against his neck, a hand grabbing at his forearm to try and pull him away. It was incredibly hot to her how his muscles and tendons moved below the skin and against her fingers.
“How am I being unfair, baby?” He asked, breath heavy as he bit into her earlobe. The way she gripped his cock was making him break slowly but surely, but he’d never let her win this.
“You’re playing dirty, you bastard.”
Javier chuckled, moving his hand away from her clit to wrap the arm around her middle instead, pinning her against him. Angling his hips, he drove into her harder, the slight change in position making him reach deeper, taking note of how she suppressed a noise.
“Say my name, sweetheart, c’mon.”
She shook her head, a hand coming up to grip his hair. Moving his head to allow herself more access, she sucked more purple marks into his skin.
“Never. Not in a million years.”
She could feel him get closer too, now; his breath labored, grunts and moans catching in his throat. Yet his hips still drove up into her at the same brutal pace.
“You know what I like about you?” He grit out, arm tightening around her. “Your pride’s bigger than mine.”
The hand on her hip gave her ass another smack.
“But I’ll fucking break yours.”
Fucking hell. His words shot straight to her pussy, clenching around him.
“You won’t.” She groaned, feeling emboldened to beat him. “I’ll make you sing my name and if it’s the last thing I do.”
His mouth found her neck, mirroring what she had been doing to him, feeling her pulse quicken as her hips stuttered. He was at the brink of an orgasm himself, surprised by how long she managed to resist him, fighting hard for control. 
It only turned him on more, that fierceness of hers, the will to make him break and give in.
Because if she wasn’t the one to give in first and doing so, soon, he was the one to lose this fight, and he really couldn’t let that happen. 
His fucking ego wouldn’t allow him to.
So he let go of her middle, and as expected, she sat up just a little, bracing herself on the armrest behind him as she changed the angle, bouncing on his cock. Her tits jumped with every movement, right into his face as her back arched and he couldn’t resist the urge to take one hardened nipple into his mouth, groping the other with his free hand. 
She ground into him harder, losing her rhythm as his teeth grazed over the bud, tongue soothing the bite and he grunted, feeling her squeeze him.
“Just say it, you asshole.” She whined desperately, teetering right at the edge but willing herself not to fall over it. It was so damn difficult, his cock hitting all the right spots, his mouth on her breast only bringing her closer.
An idea came to her, one hand wrapping around the base of his throat, pushing him away from her chest and back into the armrest. Sweat dripped down his temples, his jaw set again as she looked down on him with lidded eyes.
He looked so fucking good like this, lust clearly on his features now and that fucking cocky smile gone. Eyes slightly widened at her grip around his throat, only applying light pressure on the sides.
He liked this.
“I wanna cum on your fucking cock, Peña.”
She was right there with him. 
“Yeah?” He breathed. “Let me feel that pretty pussy, hermosa.”
His hand left her breast to find her clit again, rubbing tight circles into it with his thumb. 
That was all she needed to fall over the edge, screaming his name as she did.
“Yes, Javier!” Her hips stuttered, body shaking as she contracted around him, her orgasm hitting her so hard she saw stars dance behind her eyes when she screwed them shut. “Javi, fuck! Yes!”
Her arm gave out, collapsing against his chest and burying her face in the crook of his neck as the waves kept washing through her.
It was all he needed, too. 
Grunting her name, his hips pressed up into her as her pussy gripped him tight, pulling his cock in deep before he stilled, his thumb working her through her waves and his.
The sound she wrangled from him made it sound like he was in severe pain, biting into her shoulder so hard it would definitely leave a distinct mark. 
She cried out again, his bite hurting her and his thumb on her clit driving her into overstimulation, grabbing at his forearm. He understood, letting go when she left crescent marks in his skin and wrapped his arm around her middle to pull her close.
Silence filled the room, save for their labored breathing, trying to come down from the intense high. His hand traced mindless circles into her skin.
After a moment, he tapped her hip and she shifted, feeling him pull out with a low grunt. She could feel his cum leak out of her, the feeling so vulgar but intoxicating, already missing the feeling of him inside her. 
Moving so she was laying half on top of him, no longer straddling him as their legs entangled, she rested her head on his chest and watched him reaching out for the pack of smokes on the table, fishing one out and lighting it.
He took a long drag, expelling the white mist with a long sigh.
“I won.” He chuckled.
She groaned. For a moment she had completely forgotten about the challenge, enjoying the silence between them.
He really couldn’t stop this cocky attitude for even just a moment.
But did she really care, though? The orgasm had been so great, she almost didn’t give a fuck that she lost to him.
Almost.
“Nice try, though, hermosa.” Javier added and she couldn’t help but smile at the comment.
“Know what, Javi?” She said, pushing herself up so she could look him in the face. A hand came up to brush the damp hair off his forehead, carding her fingers through his dark locks. The fire in her eyes had diminished, replaced with tenderness. 
They still held that sparkle, though.
“You fucked me so well I honestly don’t give a fuck you won.”
It was meant to dampen his victory just a little, even if it stroked his ego.
“But you should stay the night more often.” She added with a grin.
Her hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone.
“Good, cause I’m not sure I can just let this little pussy of yours go.”
He pulled her down into a kiss by her chin, more tender now.
Maybe Javier Peña being a cocky asshole wasn’t that horrible.
Certainly not when he fucked her the way he did.
683 notes · View notes
hailey-murdock · 10 months
Note
soft morning sex with peter b!!!
Need
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Paring: Peter B Parker x Fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ mature content mdni
WC: 1.K
A/N: sorry this took me a while, hope you enjoy, not proofread (Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated)
-Explicit content under the cut-
Many nights Peter would seek comfort and peace. Trying to calm down the thoughts that ran wildly fast in his head. Your body was like a sanctum where he would find that. You let him use your body for what he wanted, he needed you? Then you let yourself be used. 
It varied many times, it depended on what caused him to seek refuge inside of you or his head between your legs. Sometimes he just needed your warmth radiating onto his body. The sweet perfume of yours that always managed to ground him.
Peter wasn't a religious man. He didn't seem to care about the worship of a god. That was until he met you, and found the altar (your body) that he desperately wanted to worship, you were a goddess to him. 
He pushed you far beyond your limits—physically, sexually, emotionally, and certainly morally…and yet you both kept coming back for more.
Peter had acquired a purely animal longing for something so dark and disgusting that it was like a sexual hunger he couldn't ignore.
Tonight was certainly different after patrol Peter swung to your apartment to sleep with you and enjoy a good night's rest with you. Well actually it was dawn, the sunlight would soon be hitting your soft skin since you loved to have your curtains wide open
You always left the window unlocked for Peter, even though he had already told you many times before that it was unsafe for you to do that. 
Peter had even taught you a few moves for self defense, but those classes always ended up with Peter slamming his cock inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his release.
He would teach you a lesson on how to listen to him since it seemed like you couldn't do that. But Peter was extremely tired to do that. He locked the window once he got inside of your apartment.
It was relaxing for him to take off his suit and lay in bed with you. You woke up when in your dream you managed to feel the other side of your bed dip.
"P-Peter"? You say with a sleepy voice and trying to sit up straight to see if it was him. 
"Go back to sleep sweetie", Peter pulled the blanket over you again once you settled back in bed and hummed in agreement.
Your back was facing his chest, his arm draped lazily over your waist. To get more comfortable and closer to Peter you pushed your ass back to his crotch.
A soft groan left his lips, Peter hoped you didn't move more but secretly he wanted more. He could smell the smell of sex in your bedroom, obviously stating that you took care of yourself while he was gone. Your wetness dripped down your thighs while you slept.
You were half awake when you heard his groan and it made you want to do it more. Rubbing your ass against his now growing erection made your cunt even more wetter.
"S-sweetheart sto- mhm stop that", Peter only pulled you closer to his body. His hand ran down to your thigh playing with the hem of your silk nightgown.
"What if I don't want to"? Peter could hear the teasing tone in your voice, he wanted to fuck it out of you but his muscles ached after a long night fighting crime. You nodded your head to give him permission to slide his hand closer to where you most wanted it.
He pulls one of your legs on his waist to have better access to your warm cunt. You suck in your bottom lip as you imagine how you and Peter would look in the position you are.
The two of you on your sides, your legs spread wide apart, your right leg on his waist, his muscular arm in your inner thigh. A light sheet of sweat on both bodies, you with no panties, just your nightgown. Your cunt glistens with the bit of light hitting the bedroom. 
Peter dragged his fingers to your entrance and it made you shudder. You leaned into his touch seeking for more friction.
"What do you need, baby? Be a good girl and tell me" he wasn't only going to let you have your fun with teasing, karma can be a bitch.
Peter hadn't even pushed in his fingers or done anything and you were already drunk off of him. 
"Is my sweet girl already dumb? Can't even say a sentence and I haven't done anything yet. Come on, use your words".
You hummed in agreement to Peter's statement. "N-need you", your back arched which caused your ass to rub once again to his cock.
His eyes rolled back at the beautiful mixture of pain and pleasure. "What exactly do you need, sweetheart"?
"Cock, n-need your cock", your cheeks are a deep shade of red. You couldn't believe you just said that. You've never been so blunt at saying what you wanted.
"God, you sound so sexy, sweet girl". With that Peter shoved down his boxers and pulled over your head your nightgown. His hands run straight to your perked nipples, pinching them to earn a sweet moan from you.
"Peter please", your whines were louder the more Peter took his time with you. 
"Shhh, I know, I know what you need, baby. Let me take care of you, yeah"? 
Peter how and when to use his words. Boy, he was damn good with that mouth. He tapped your clit with the tip of his cock, spreading your and his arousal for lube even though he knew it wasn't needed.
He penetrated your hole and your tightness made it harder for him to be all the full way through. A gasp was what Peter heard in his ear as you moved your head back to kiss him passionately.
His thrusts were slow, sensual and deep, making your head spin. The kisses are full of love, desire, and kindness. This wasn't sex, no this was love. Peter was making love to you. The eye contact made it powerful. 
Hands intertwined, sweat all over your bodies. The soft "I love you" made your heart jump. The orgams screamed your love for one another. Heavy breathing, groans, and moans filled the bedroom. 
The afterglow were the moments you both treasured deeply. Your heartbeats calming down, the even breathing and the smiles on your faces were proof that just as much Peter saw you as his sanctum, he was yours as well.
384 notes · View notes
fallinforerling · 1 year
Text
game over | the game, final part.
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ೃ⁀➷ previous part
WARNINGS: smut. hdj, p in v, cursing
ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist
ೃ⁀➷ masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
It always came down to this. It always did.
No matter how hurtful the two of you could be to each other, no matter how many nights you’d cry yourself to sleep after seeing something you shouldn’t, no matter how many revenges you took against him… You’d always end up like this. 
In a mess of texting, calling, and sometimes arguing, all of it while rushing across the city to meet up at some place to be alone. But you both knew very well that you weren’t there to actually talk about how toxic it all was or how horrible it would be to see each other next to someone else. You were there to prove, for the hundredth time, how obvious it was that you belonged to each other. 
That’s how it had always been with Jude. 
Were you tired? It depends. Of the situation? Of course. Of him? Never. 
“Tell me he didn’t touch you.” He whispered against your mouth, making you whimper at how far his lips seemed from yours. 
“What if he did?” Was all you managed to say, giggling a bit despite your raggedy breathing, when you caught a glimpse of jealousy in his eyes. 
“Fuck. I know he didn’t.” His breathing was as unsteady as yours. You loved that. “And even if he did… No one can touch you like I do, that I’m very sure of.”
“Oh, yeah?” You couldn’t contradict him. It wasn’t a lie. “Prove it then.”
That phrase alone seemed to ignite a fire inside him. His hands went instantly for the zipper of the dress you strategically wore that day, making you bite your lip to stop the moan that pretended to escape from your mouth. Feeling his hands roaming through your back, tracing the form of your waist, and playing with the waistband of your thong was keeping you on the edge. 
You refused to beg for his touch. As much as you wanted to feel him now, with all the rage he always poured into sex once you got back together, he wasn’t getting it as easily as previous times. This time, you weren’t the one begging. 
Once the fabric of your dress touched the floor, his hands started to roam every inch of skin they found available. And you didn’t hold back either; you let your nails scratch the back of his neck and his collarbones, enjoying how he seemed to whine just a bit between the desperate kisses. He grabbed a handful of your ass, getting your body as close as possible, letting you feel rather than know how hard he was. It took your breath away. 
His teeth bit hard on your lower lip, dragging the flesh once he ended the kiss. “Feel that?” His fingers started to play with the waistband of your thong again, making you hold onto his shoulders when your knees gave in. “Tell me you’re mine…” This time, it sounded more like a plea. Like he needed to hear you say it. 
“And what about you?” As you spoke, your hand slowly traveled across his chest and stomach, landing on his crotch with a delicate touch that made him hold his breath. “Are you mine, Jude?” 
In the few seconds he took to answer, your hand started to move. Your fingertips brushed on his tip before moving along his length, teasing him to the point where his own hand grabbed your wrist, keeping your palm against him. 
“You know I am.” He buried his head in your neck, instantly feeling his lips drag kisses along your skin. He sucked on the exact spot where it was the most sensitive, making your head blank for a few seconds. “I’ll always be yours.” 
That turned you on more than it should have. Without him telling you to, you resumed the playful pace on his length until his breath was uneven again; just then, you slowly dragged him out of his boxers, enjoying the hiss of pleasure he let out once his skin made contact with the fresh air of the room. 
You started with lazy moves that you knew would keep him on the edge. His breathing kept getting progressively unsteady, his eyes lingering on your face, silently asking for a kiss. But you denied him the pleasure; instead, you started to place butterfly kisses on his jaw and neck, knowing how much he liked that. 
“I…” The whisper gave you goosebumps. 
“What?” You never stopped the movements, wanting him on the edge. “What do you need?”
“You…” His hands, which were firmly holding your waist, reached each side of your face. His thumbs caressed your jawline, keeping your eyes on his. “I need you.”
“Then take me.” Was the sole answer you gave him. 
You needed him to take you. 
You shared a brief but intense look before he went for a kiss that took your breath away. Nothing could ever compare to Jude’s kisses. You both took a few uncoordinated steps until the back of your knees bumped into the bed. A slight push on your shoulders was enough to make you lose balance and fall into the mattress, making you giggle for a few seconds until Jude looked down at you with a serious expression that cut off any humor that was left in your body. 
“Do you see me fucking laughing?” He said once his knee sank into the bed next to you. His hands ran through your thighs, giving you shivers, while his eyes stayed on your face. You felt his fingertips dig into your hips before he spoke again. “Up.” 
You did as told, letting him grab your underwear before taking it off your body. The sudden feeling of exposure made you a bit self-conscious, so you couldn’t help the reflex of gathering your knees. His hand came between them almost immediately, his warmth sending shivers down your spine as he got closer, discarding his boxers before accommodating himself between your knees, which slowly opened to welcome him. You knew he loved to touch you, so when his palms started to travel from your ankles to your hips, you couldn’t help but smile a bit. Your eyes never leave his face, while he seems very concentrated on your body.
“You know I love you, right?” The question, which felt more like a timeless confession, fell from his lips so suddenly that you felt a bit taken aback by it. “It’ll always be you.” 
A shaky breath left your lips. Your hands wandered over his neck before you grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel his body crashing against yours as he leaned in to kiss you back. The shivers never stopped, even when he pulled back and caressed your face with a slow touch that made your eyes tear a bit. 
Because you love him so much. And always will. 
“I need you.” Was all you said back. Because you couldn’t trust yourself with your words at that moment. You didn’t want to fight. 
Without an actual response, one of his hands trailed from your neck to your chest, lingering there just enough to take a moan out of you. His cheeky smile was visible even through your narrowed eyes. The hand kept traveling across your stomach until it fell where you needed it the most. You couldn’t help but gasp, holding onto his neck while his thumb drew circles on your clit, his fingers slowly making their way into you. 
“Always so wet for me.” His mouth placed open-mouth kisses on your neck, making you close your eyes and forget about everything else. You missed this so much. 
The feeling of him, even if it were just his hands, was enough to make your hips rock against his touch while simultaneously craving for more. 
“Enough of that.” You whispered, taking his face in your hands to make him look at you. He greeted you with a smile.“You. Now.”
God only knew why he was smiling like that.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The ghost of his fingers still lingered on your skin for the few seconds it took while he positioned himself between your legs, taking a shaky breath out of your lips. The feeling of him filling you after weeks of fighting kept you on the edge. His face was above yours, his eyes never leaving yours as he smiled with a knowing smirk. You held onto his shoulders for some stability that you definitely didn’t feel at all. It felt like falling off a cliff, but you absolutely loved the feeling. 
Feeling so full made you close your eyes, your mind racing with pleasure and so many other things that it overwhelmed you. Your nails buried themselves in Jude’s shoulders while your legs trapped him in a position where his body was as close as possible to yours. 
“Eyes on me.” One of his hands landed on your neck, squeezing so gently that you welcomed the pressure with ease. Your eyes rapidly opened, being greeted with a look that let you know he was on the verge as well.
You nodded, letting him know silently that your attention was on him. As always. When he started to move, your hands made it to his neck, leaving scratches there. He fucked you slow for the first minutes, but once you started to smile again just to piss him off, he started to pour out all the rage he was surely feeling, which was what you really wanted. 
“‘Tis what you wanted?” The pressure of his hand on your neck escalated, leaving you a bit breathless but never erasing your smile. “You’re such a brat.”
You didn’t reply to that. Your calves tried to make him closer to you, but that was now impossible. His thrusts became more erratic and harsh, stealing moans that you fought hard to not let go of. You knew hearing them was going to make him even cockier. You hugged his shoulders, burying your face in his neck to muffle the sounds. 
Hearing his breathless words that weren’t actually audible kept you on the edge, feeling on a cloud full of bliss and pleasure that almost knocked you out. It was so good, you felt like crying. 
“I love you.” He repeated it like a prayer, and after a while, you didn’t if it was his voice or yours saying it. 
The orgarms hit both of you by surprise. You felt him bury himself inside of you one last time, holding you down while you trembled, grabbing onto him for dear life. You let out a ragged sigh, feeling a few tears run down your cheeks as you focused on his face. He was looking down at you with such… admiration. 
“Let’s clean you up.” He said after a few minutes, not breaking the spell that lingered between you two. You stayed silent, letting him go to the bathroom, still breathless and happy.
And as he cleaned both of you up, fixed the pillows, and cuddled you with the lazy manners of someone who was satisfied with everything around him, you thought about one thing only.
You would never let this man go. 
“Jude?” 
“Mmh?” He sounded half-asleep, but you continued anyway. Better for you if he didn’t remember this tomorrow. 
“You know I’m yours.” You answered his question from earlier. 
He didn’t reply right away, and you began to think he had finally fallen asleep. But then his arms pulled you closer to him, his nose buried in your neck, his lips silently looking for skin. You felt him making a hickey, and with a sigh, you let him.
He wasn’t letting you go either. 
 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE’S TAGLIST
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yanderecrazysie · 5 months
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Oikawa NSFW Alphabet
WARNINGS: yandere themes, very NSFW, mentions of non-con
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A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Oikawa is very cuddly afterward, pulling you close (he’s the big spoon) and playing with your hair a little.
B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He likes his hair- he both likes the way it’s styled to look windswept and the way you card your fingers through it. On you, he likes your breasts. It doesn’t matter if you have huge boobs or are flat chested, he’ll play with your nipples all the same.
C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)
Oikawa’s cum tastes fairly good, as he has a healthy athlete’s diet. It’s pearly white and fairly thick, but not as sticky as you might expect.
D: Dirty Secret
Oikawa has fucked his fist to you long before you got together/he kidnapped you.
E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Oikawa has plenty of experience. He’s popular, so girls throw themselves at him, and you really can’t blame him for taking advantage of that popularity a few times.
F: Favorite Position
Oikawa likes missionary most, so he can stare down in your eyes, but if you’ve been bad, it’s doggy style for you.
G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  
Oikawa’s teasing you and making comments on everything you do.
H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Oikawa’s very well-groomed and the carpets do indeed match the drapes.
I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)
Oikawa is very romantic if you’ve been good, locking eyes and hands with yours and giving you slow, deep thrusts until he gets close, then all bets are off.
J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Oikawa used to be a slight porn addict, always needing to get himself off. But once you came into his life, all he needed was an imagination.
K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Daddy kink all the way and possibly spanking, if you’ve been naughty.
L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Oikawa prefers in a bed or on the couch, but he’s willing to be adventurous. Especially in the boys’ locker room.
M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Oikawa likes looking at your lips sometimes, and licking your lips or chewing on your thumbnail are just the hottest things he’s seen. Even hotter? You with a low cut top.
N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Oikawa doesn’t want you to dominate him. He doesn’t mind letting you ride him, but none of that female dominatrix stuff for him.
O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers receiving, but he’s skilled in giving too.
P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  
If you’ve been good, he’s slow and sensual until he can feel his orgasm coming, then he’s snapping his hips into your so roughly you’re sure he’ll leave bruises.
Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  
Oikawa doesn’t mind a quickie, but he’ll be rougher than a full out session.
R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) 
Oikawa is down for pretty much anything.
S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Oikawa can go for a very long time and can go two to three rounds, depending on how long ago he’s masturbated.
T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He’s not very into toys for himself, but he doesn’t mind torturing you with a vibrator attached to your pretty clit.
U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)
He’s the ultimate tease. Both verbally and sexually, stretching out your orgasm as long as he possibly can.
V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Oikawa’s a moaner, until he gets really into it, then it’s fast, loud grunts of pleasure. When he comes, it’s like a long moan of relief.
W: With or without consent (Non-con or consensual?)
Oikawa prefers consent by far, but he’ll take what he wants if he needs to.
X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)
Oikawa is long and girthy. There’s a reason girls want him other than just his popularity. It’s a pretty cock too, with no visible veins, but a soft, large mushroom tip.
Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Oikawa’s sex drive is insatiable. He’ll go multiple times a day if he’s in the mood.
Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He’ll hold you tight to him and eventually fall asleep, possibly before you do. He has a great sleep as long as you’re in his arms.
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