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#Mind your own business ffs
cbrosa-archived · 2 years
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hating the girlfriend of your fave male celebrity crush won't make him love you back. never ever.
heal from your parasocial disease mindset, get your head out of your weirdo asses and unlearn your self-internalized misogyny.
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die-schwanenkoenigin · 6 months
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why am I so fucking......cringe. I swear to. God.
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kindafooey · 1 year
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Had a bit of a xenophobic moment just now lmao
#I was at a campfire site minding my own business when a bunch of southerners came up#and while sternly pretending that I wasn't there they put on godawful music and started doing yoga#and I. well. I'll admit I could've made an attempt to be more communicative but like. I was literally right there#and they were being extremely rude. like. I don't know it's a cultural thing because I genuinely do not understand southern finns#but I think it's customary to ask if it's okay to blast music from your shitty boombox when there are others present??#not to mention that we were literally in the middle of the forest where people usually want to enjoy the silence ffs#and they didn't so much as say hi#so I was like. fuck it. two csn play this game. and I pulled up my phone and searched for 10 hours of annoying noise on youtube#and started blasting that to drown their dumbfuck yoga music#and eventually they pulled that gross fake southerner smile and asked me if I wanted to join them#and I was like. no I don't think I will. I was just curious how long they were willing to pretend that I wasn't there#and I told them it's common sense to ask other people if they're okay with playing music that loud especially in a situation like this#and they were STILL fake smiling at me and said I'm free to join. so I was like. okay gals listen up.#I don't know if this is how you do it in helsinki but it does not fucking fly in lapland and maybe they'd be better off going the fuck back#to where they came from#(which is a gross thing to say to anyone I KNOW but I was being talked down and fake smiled at#and feeling fairly fucking pissed at that point)#then I was like aight I've had enough I'm outta here#but changed my mind and came back#at which point they turned off the music and actually apologized. which I can appreciate#so uhh yeah. I can be obnoxious and gross sometimes lol#but even though it didn't come out in the best possible way I still think it was like. a well-deserved moment of straightforwardness#for the three of them#honestly I don't feel ashamed at all haha#but maybe next time I'll be more polite. just maybe. no prommies tho
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dienamights · 2 years
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I stg if one more nosy wrinkly bitch comes up to me in the gym and nags at me for “putting on splotchy blush while working out” when its just my psoriasis acting up i will deadass tell her it’s contagious and rub my fucking face on her
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snekdood · 7 months
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i really try to understand why my fellow progressives are so avoidant of actually introspecting on why they think its still cool to bully. im sorry but thats just an inherently conservative thing to want to do.
#ive had to actually introspect about it. i was never really a bully fr but i did. like everyone else. have judgemental thoughts about ppl#still. and i really had to ask myself. why does it matter that EYE judge this person? 1. im holding my own opinion of this other random#person i probably dont know as being the most important opinion when its like. who tf am i. 2. wtf did this person MORALLY do wrong#to deserve me internally insulting them for how they look or dress or whatever. and even if its someone whos a conservative.#how does me judging that person make the entire situation better at all? it really only just. makes me feel better about the lack of#power i have over that person to not be a dipshit. thats really it#insulting them isnt going to change their mind and LIKE IVE SAID A MILLION TIMES will ONLY make them dig their heels in more#im not saying go up to your local rwinger and give them a hug and validate them or whatever tf. thats not your job. all im asking is simply#shut your brain the entire fuck up when it wants to judge someone for something that they cant control or is morally neutral#charlie kirk having a small face is morally neutral. his politics? not so much! attack that. at least.#(not that the memes aren't funny- but we cant fool ourselves into thinking bullying him is gonna change him or his fans)#i just wanna know why you think your opinion on how someone looks or dresses or whatever is that important is all#the best motto anyone can adopt really is 'MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS' ffs#your opinion on their appearance really doesnt matter like at all! instead of feeling the urge to have an opinion on the way they look#simply let some things ~be~. have 0 opinion about how they look or if theyre weird and awkward. focus on the shit that ACTUALLY matters#you dont always have to sort things in boxes of 'good' and 'bad'. some things can just exist without you labeling them.#and also why do you NEED to label everything and who are you and why do you think your label is important enough to vocalize?#anyways.#and im not gonna act like ive been perfect about this but this is work that we're always gonna hafta do so long as we live in a#susciety that places value on other people and labels them on whether or not theyre good enough for whatever thing#competition outside of friendly sportsball will always be bad change my mind#if the sportsball gets to be unfriendly and too intense to the point that you hate someone you need to fuckin chill and leave the event#lmao. like you've gotta go and take a shower and think for a bit instead of continuing to funnel your rage into ppl who dont deserve it :|#i wanna be clear tho i dont think theres anything morally wrong w making fun of charlie kirk for how he looks. just recognize the reason ur#doing it. bc ur not doing it bc ur someone crusading against misinfo or whatever ur doing it bc u dont know how to convince#him to stop and are throwing spaghetti at the wall
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joelscurls · 4 months
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best kept secret
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pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 6.7k
summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3
Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.
It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.
You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.
He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.
“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”
They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 
Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 
Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.
Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.
But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.
Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.
“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.
With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  
He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.
You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.
Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 
For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 
It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 
That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.
He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.
But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.
“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 
“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 
Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”
The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.
Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.
“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.
“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”
He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.
“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 
You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.
“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.
“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”
Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 
“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 
You slink home just as the street lights dim.
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The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.
You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.
You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.
The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.
By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 
Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.
God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.
“Hey.”
“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.
“Something on your mind?”
Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.
“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”
He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”
It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.
You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.
The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-
-there’s a knock at the door.
Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?
And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.
“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.
Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.
The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.
He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 
No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.
You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 
Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.
His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.
“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”
He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?
“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.
“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 
His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.
And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 
You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.
Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 
Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.
Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”
Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 
“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 
There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 
This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.
But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 
You shake your head, no. 
“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”
“When I was ten?” you retort. 
“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”
You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”
“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  
“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.
“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 
Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”
You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 
I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.
Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.
Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.
“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”
“Will you just give her a chance?”
“Jesus; fine.”
The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.
Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.
He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 
“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 
“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”
Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 
He’s actually agreeing to this?
You need to get out of here before you say something rash.
The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 
Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.
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The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 
The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.
It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.
The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.
Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 
They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.
Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.
The day passes infuriatingly slow.
The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.
“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.
“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”
“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”
“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.
You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.
He picks up after two rings.
“Darlin’ — are you okay?”
It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.
But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.
“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 
“Why didn’t you say no?” 
“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”
“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“
You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.
“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”
Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.
It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.
Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 
“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”
He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.
The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.
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You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.
There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.
Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.
He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.
So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.
But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 
It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.
On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.
“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”
You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.
“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 
“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”
“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.
“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“
“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”
It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.
Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.
Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 
Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 
Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 
You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.
This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.
You jot the address down anyway.
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Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 
Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 
At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 
That’s not what you’re doing, of course.
No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.
It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 
You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?
You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.
From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.
Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.
And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.
Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.
But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 
She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.
She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.
You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.
But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 
He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 
Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 
She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.
You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.
And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.
He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.
Fuck.
He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.
With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 
He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 
The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.
“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.
You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?
When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.
“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”
“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”
This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.
“It wasn’t like that,” he grits
“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”
There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 
“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”
His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” you admit.
He nods. Another beat.
“Did you kiss her?” you ask.
“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 
Your mouth goes dry.
“No?”
“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want to.”
“You don’t want her?” 
“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 
“Why not?” 
He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.
“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 
The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.
“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”
Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.
It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.
Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 
And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 
Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.
“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 
He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 
“Need you — please.”
He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 
Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.
“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.
Your breath catches. 
You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?
But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.
You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”
Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.
“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 
He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.
He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.
You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”
His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 
You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.
“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.
“Gotta move baby — please move.”
He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.
Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.
Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 
It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.
One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 
Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.
“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“
“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”
His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.
His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.
“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”
He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.
You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.
You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.
Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.
“Joel,” you say.
He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.
“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.
“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”
And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”
“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”
You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.
You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.
Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 
You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.
“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”
He looks at you like you have two heads.
He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.
Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.
“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”
Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.
“I’m yours?”
He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 
It all feels somehow sweeter, now.
“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”
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end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.
Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)
tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673
5K notes · View notes
kangmoon27 · 8 months
Text
The Boy | Jungkook ff PT2
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Pairing: Bhrams Yandere Jungkook x babysitter Y/n
Summary: they paid you a huge amount of money just to babysit their son who turned out to be a doll named kookie not knowing the real kookie is actually all grown up and living behind the walls where he always watches you.
First part
The sounds of foot stepping becomes normal for you. Ever since that night when you tried to leave this house the noises coming from the wall continues. It's terrifying yes but you just couldn't do anything but just to bare with it.
Your eyes fell on the wall clock and find out that it's already 8 o'clock and it's time to put kookie to bed.
You walk towards the doll that is sitting on the sofa and pick it up. You then turn around and unplug the tv before making your way upstairs.
As you entered his room you slowly put him down in his bed, you walk away from him and stood up Infront of the closet trying to find his night wear clothe.
Once you found it you came towards him again before undressing him and dress him up with his night wear suit. A small smile appeared in your lips while you're laying the doll down on his bed and cover him with the blanket. Leaving a kiss on his forehead and said farewell to him.
You slowly close your eyes after closing the bedroom door behind you. A sigh left your mouth, you're so exhausted, all though taking care of a doll is just easy job, maintaining the huge house looking like a castle clean is a lot of work.
You can't do it on your own. They surly need to get another maid but that's exactly what they don't want. They only want you here alone in this house while taking care of a doll that they called "their son".
It's so weird but what can you say. The money they're paying you is no joke and because of that you just had to bare with it.
As you took a step forward you heard the step coming from the wall as well. You tried to ignore it and went to your room but before you could even open the door and step forward you heard a running footsteps coming from the wall as if it's making it's way towards you. But when you look around you found no one and the steps fades away.
You're under the shower. You just let your body under the water while you're laying on the tub. It's such a long day and you surly need a calm and peaceful bath to finally call it a day.
While you're chillin. Someone slowly open the door avoid to make a sound. He walks in and saw your used clothes on the laundry basket. He smile under his thick glass mask and grab your und'rwear along with the dress that you just used. Sniffing on it while closing his eyes he couldn't help but to giggle silently.
His mind isn't completely matured. He couldn't even remember how his child's mind suddenly become perverted. Well there's only one answer. It's you. Definitely you.
While he's busy sniffing your undergarment and hugging your dress his eyes caught something shining on the sink and noticed that it's your neckless.
He knew how important it is for you cause he can sometimes see you kissing it. He quickly grabbed it and put it in his pocket. While he's about to leave he accidentally hit the cup where your toothbrush is placed on. You quickly open the curtain and saw your thing on the ground.
Getting up from the tub you came and pick it up before placing it again on the sink. You look around the bathroom and find no one but the bathroom door is open. While the droplets of the water is dripping from your b'day you walk out of the bathroom nked and look around your room but found no one so you just came back inside and closed the door.
Jungkook on the other side keep his eyes on you. Watching you all nked while he's hiding inside the closet that is Infront of the bathroom. He's sweating alot. All he could think about is doing nasty things on you.
You came out of the bathroom and started looking around the room trying to search for your neckless but it's no where to be found.
You're getting frustrated while letting out a annoyed groan. Jungkook just continue watching you and lick his lips seeing you only with white long sleeve and when you bed down you literally gave him the perfect view of your a's.
Just then a loud bang was heard down stairs. You get startled and look around before making your way down stairs. Without hesitation Jungkook also made his down using his shortcut that is behind the walls.
When Jungkook arrived there he saw a man and he's talking to you. Confused. He saw how you're trying to push the guy out of the house but since he's bigger than you it's no used. He can see how unstable you are through the small gap in the wall.
You sat on the ground after the man walk upstairs. Pulling your hair out of frustration. You saw your ex boyfriend namjoon coming back with Kookie in his hand.
"Wow what is this? Is this the guy you're babysitting? It's a freaking doll Yn!!" He just then start laughing while you tried taking kookie from him.
While taking the doll away from him you accidentally poke his eyes making him groan in pain. The second later he look at you with his burning eyes and grabbed the doll from your hand then thrown it on the ground. The head of the doll explode as it's made of a white glass just like the plates.
"No!!!! N-no no no no no what have you done namjoon!!" You look at him in shocked while he just laughed. Walking towards the broken kookie you couldn't help but to think about what will happen to you next just then a painful grip from your hair made you scream in pain.
Namjoon started pulling you by your hair when the wall suddenly open. A loud bang made you and namjoon look at the broken wall. Just then you both saw a hand coming out of the wall till a huge guy wearing a dirty jumper with a mask same as the doll came out.
Without hesitation he quickly run to namjoon and chock him while pinning him on the wall. He also grabbed the vase beside him and hit him with it. The other guy fell on the ground with bleeding head.
But he didn't stop there. Jungkook also grabbed a kn'fe and st'b the man laying on the ground several times before he turn his head towards you.
You started shaking your head left and right in fear. You then slowly stood up and run away from him. You can hear the loud bang of his shoes while running after you.
"Yn don't leave me. I'll me good. I will. Please don't leave kookie." You cover your mouth while hearing him taking with his child voice. Just as you're about to run away you saw him standing Infront of you while holding a kn'fe in his other hand.
You gulp hard. You don't know what to do. He was just staring at you while standing so close to you.
"Kookie!! Drop that. It's time for bed come on!!" You don't know where did you get that courage but that's all you could think about right now.
Surprisingly he did dropped the kn'fe and followed you while making your way to his bedroom.
You order him to lay down and he did. As you're about to leave he suddenly grabbed your hand making you look at him.
"Kiss."
"No kookie you've been a very bad today."
You turned around wanting to leave but you heard him whipping like a kid while holding your hand. You turned around again and saw him sitting on the bed while holding you tight.
"Kiss."
You just gave up and actually kiss him. The coldness of his mask made your lips numb. Before you could even pulled away Jungkook eventually pulled you closer and made you sit on his lap.
You widened your eyes trying to free yourself but he's strong enough to lay you on his bed and hovered you. He tear your clothes open while you're trying so hard to get away from him.
He just let you struggle but never let you go. He quickly went down and pulled you undergarment away. You're covering your exposed cl't with your hand but he quickly push it away and lift his mask a little only enough to stick his tongue out and eat you out.
When you felt his warm tongue licking you off you suddenly forgot what you're actually trying do. You let out a small moan while putting your head back and rolled your eyes.
Jungkook smiled. He loves the taste of you. It's just only free c'm but he's already obsessed with it. He couldn't believe that you taste even better than he could imagine.
He wasn't even able to make you come but he quickly stopped and look at you. You then slowly open your eyes and saw him. He stood up and str'p himself Infront of you then hovered to you again. Jungkook placed the tip of his leaking c'ck against your entrance before pushing in slowly, you gasped at the intrusion, feeling him fill you up as he got deeper and deeper until you sat nicely on his lap. Jungkook pecks your lips as you adjusted yourself, you could see the look in Jungkook's eyes the look of him holding himself back.
Kookie let out a small whimper with eyes screwed shut trying to process the pleasure of you just sitting on his cock. It made you smile what you could do to him, how you could affect this man, leaning down you pressed your soft lips against his with him instantly returning it. One hand still on your hips the other carded through your hair as tongues tangled together in sloppy kisses.
A gasp left Brahms lips as he felt you raise your hips only to slam back down onto him A breathless "Mommy" leaving his lips before you pressed yours and his together again.
Starting slow you eventually started to gain momentum bouncing up and down on his throbbing c'ck. Pulling away from the kissing to sit up you moaned as your body jerked up and down t'ts bouncing with every thrust. Brahms breathed heavily as his hand moved to your bouncing breasts to massage them, every now and then moving his thumb across your erect n'pples.
"Fck Mommy, you feel so tight!" He moaned thrusting up against your bouncing to get even deeper
The sound of sk'n slapping against skin echoed with both of your labored breathes, you could feel the tip of Jungkook's c'ck hitting in all the right spots as the knot inside your gut started to tighten threatening to snap at any second.
he wrapped his arms around your waist and started thr'sting upwards at blinding speed, hitting the perfect spot every time.
"Fu-ahh Make mommy cum on your c'ck!" You moaned into his ear as the knot got tighter and tighter until You let out a strangled m'an as your walls clenched around him milking his c'ck for all its worth, kookie thrusted up once more before keeping his c'ck buried inside of you. The feeling of you clenching around him just enough to send him over the edge once more, filling you up with streaks of c'm.
Finally you both relaxed on top of each other, you laying on his chest with his c'ck inside you and arms still wrapped around you in a lighter embrace.
You totally lost your mind. You don't even know who's this guy and correction he just k'lled your ex and his body is still down stairs while you're here getting fck up.
708 notes · View notes
hannie-dul-set · 9 months
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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [2].
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SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).
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PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. mentions of dicks and balls and nudity, mentions of sex, mild manipulation, someone cries at one point, the usual amount of swearing. WORD COUNT. 3.3k.
TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg
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NOTE. whatever the bet they have is, it's definitely one of the three things you're thinking about. per usual, please let me know what you think about this trainwreck so far!
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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CHAPTER 2 — the inevitable disasters of living with six men.
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FOR THE MOST PART, LIVING IN YOUR NEW TEMPORARY HOME HAS BEEN FINE. It’s similar to living in the dorms, but a lot more hygienic and a lot less stressful considering you don’t need to use your earplugs at the dead of night anymore. Your housemates all surprisingly tend to themselves, minding their own business on the day-to-day.
Jake makes sure you feel welcomed by introducing you to the extensive LEGO collection in his room which is taking him more than a week, you have never seen Soobin come out of his room again after he got jumpscared by your Victoria’s Secret on the first day, and Heeseung smiles and says hi to you but never fails to demonstrate his superhuman agility by swerving out of your way when you cross paths in the narrower hallways, making sure he never touches you. You also hear questionable screams of anguish from Beomgyu’s room whenever you come down for water at 3 a.m., you often have breakfast cereal with Jay and he always makes sure to refill your Cheerios while saying “to make your day a lot more cheery-oh,” and sometimes— when you’re particularly lucky— you and Sunghoon would emerge from your bedrooms at the same time and he’d stare you down, like usual, until you finally smile at him and he breaks into a cold sweat before either retreating back into his room or downstairs.
It’s great. Living with Jake and his friends is so great.
Until it’s not. Because you’re living with six men, and that statement in itself is bound to harbor problems.
Case in point—
“Who the fuck ate my ice cream?”
It’s early in the morning. Heeseung, Beomgyu, Jake, and Jay are all gathered around the kitchen island as you witness the murder scene in the fridge. You turn around, revealing the opened pint of mint chocolate that has a very noticeable chunk taken out from its creamy, minty center. “Not me.” Beomgyu is the first to defend himself. “You’re the only one in this house that even likes that toothpaste shit.”
“Say that again.” You slam the fridge door shut, looking him dead in the eye. “I dare you. Say that shit again.”
You wait. You continue staring at Beomgyu until he breaks into a nervous sweat and lets out a cough after tearing his head away. A victorious grin stretches on your face. “Thought so, punk.”
“That’s not fucking fair. You can’t pull that crap!”
“What crap?” you press further. Beomgyu isn’t able to challenge your stare again so he resorts to hopping off the stool with a groan and disappears into the living room. That’s another victory in your books. “Anyway, seriously— which one of you ate my ice cream? I won’t get mad. Just be honest and tell me.”
Jake fidgets in his seat. “Are you sure someone ate it?” 
“There’s a hole! There’s literally a singular hole!” You’re sure one of them took a bite before realizing their major fuck up and discreetly returning your pint into the freezer. Jay chokes back a giggle. The three of them are looking at each other. Oh my god, they’re all children. “Heeseung. Do you know what happened?”
The man in question suddenly jolts in his seat and straightens his shoulders. “N-no, no I don’t,” he sputters out. “I really don’t know.”
“I think he does,” inserts Jay.
“I think he does, too.” You settle the violated ice cream on the counter before marching up to the panic-stricken accused. He tries to run away, but you’ve memorized all his evasive tactics. You know how this bastard operates, so you slam your arm down over the counter as a barricade before he could book it. “Heeseung, did you kill my ice cream?”
“I did not!” he exclaims.
“Who did it, then?”
“I don’t know— ask Sunghoon!”
Just in time. Sunghoon is mid-stride into the kitchen, but makes an immediate u-turn the moment he hears his name. You’ve just about had it. You manage to grab him back by the scruff of his shirt and yank him down with a harsh tug. “Holy shit,” Jake breathes out. Sunghoon tries to pry himself off with a grunt, but you have an iron grip on his collar.
“Talk,” you spit out. “Tell me who ate my ice cream. I’ve had enough of your silent treatment, Park Sunghoon. You better spit it out, right now.”
This time, he succeeds by grabbing you by the wrist and almost flips you over, before settling with twisting your arm instead. “I don’t fucking know!”
“Ow!”
You hold your forearm close to your chest. That was the first time he’s ever spoken to you and you would’ve thought his voice was pretty until he decided to cuss you out. “Well damn, you don’t need to be a total bitch about it.” Sunghoon’s expression sinks. He grumbles and turns back out of the kitchen. You let out a sigh, quickly returning your attention to the three boys on the counter before they can get the opportunity to run away. “None of you are leaving until you tell me who the culprit is.”
Heeseung squirms nervously under your stare. The other two are out of hot water because they don’t seem to know anything. It takes him thirty seconds to break. “Soobin hyung said— said something about making a mistake so I think you should— wait, hold on!”
Too late. You’re already marching up the stairs. You can hear the scrambling of footsteps following after you, but you don’t stop, not until you reach his room and you lift your fist up to gingerly knock on Soobin’s door. Two knocks. And then three. You hear the knob click before a small gap cracks open— wide enough for you to flash the hesitant Choi Soobin a malicious grin. Within a second, all the color drains from his face and he tries slamming the door back shut, but you wedge your foot into the gap quick enough to stop him.
Fuck. It hurts like a bitch. You’re biting down your tongue and trying your best to maintain a smile. “Let’s talk, yeah?” You kick the door open and Soobin stumbles back to avoid the violent swing.
It’s the first time you’re entering someone else’s room. You hope you don’t get sued for breaking and entering.
“I believe we have yet to formally introduce ourselves to each other, Mr. Choi Soobin, but you see, there has been a conundrum,” you start, walking into his personal space, inch-by-inch, step-by-step and he slowly backs away. “A crime scene, if you will. Yesterday, on my way home from work, I bought a delicious pint of mint chocolate ice cream from the 7-Eleven just outside the subdivision. You’ve been there, right?”
The back of his legs hit the cushion of his bed when there’s no space left for him to back into. “Soobin.” Your voice is sharp, slicing into the air, and Soobin stumbles back onto the mattress. “Have you been there?” you repeat your question. He nods, throat bobbing when he swallows down nothing. 
Maybe you’re pushing it, but you’re having way too much fun. Let’s just say you’re getting even. “Well, I left that pint of ice cream untouched in the freezer because it was already really, really late at night,” you continue. “I intended to eat it this morning, but imagine my surprise when I opened the pint to find a huge, gigantic hole in the middle! Almost as if someone dug a spoon and stole a bite of my mint chocolate ice cream.”
Soobin flinches everytime you hiss out a word with too much enunciation. You’re practically looking down on the giant man. His face is drenched in guilt. He’s got nowhere to run now. 
“Do you know what happened, Soobin?”
Too much. Maybe you pushed it a little too much this time because all of sudden— he’s in tears. He’s actually fucking crying. 
“...Soobin…?”
“I—I didn’t know it was yours! It was— it was late at night and I was half asleep, so I—I—I thought it was the choco chip ice cream I bought the other day, put when I put it in my mouth, it tasted horrendous, and that’s when I knew I did something horribly wrong.” There are fat tears rolling down his flushed cheeks and he’s close to breaking into a fit of hiccups. Oh no. Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I’m sorry, I’m so—sorry, please forgive me, I—”
“H-hey— it’s fine, it’s alright, I was just messing around!” Your palms and fingers are now all wet trying to console him while wiping off his tears. The last time you had to comfort a grown man was when you watched Hi Bye, Mama! with your friends, so needless to say, you’re lacking in that skill department and are thus, also freaking out. The only thing you’re getting out of this is the discovery that Soobin’s skin is unfairly soft. What the hell is his skincare routine? “It was a joke! A joke! You know what, you can have all my ice cream from now on! So, please just stop crying—”
“Oh my god.”
You snap your head back to see the rest of the boys gathered outside the door, but that’s the least of your concerts at the moment because you think you’ve just traumatized Soobin a second time within two weeks you started living here. “You monster. You made Soobin hyung cry,” Beomgyu announces from behind, and you shoot him a glare.
“Do you want me to make you cry next?”
“I think I’m good.”
Soobin finally calms down after that and you’re all subsequently kicked out. You knock on his bedroom door the next day with three more pints of ice cream (different flavors) as a peace offering and though you’re sure the both of you are cool now, he still starts sweating when you try to make eye contact with him. You also haven’t caught the bastard that keeps on depleting your kisses stash yet, but you’ll find him eventually.
And that was just one of your problems. The next issue you have is a little less dessert related, and little more—
“Fuck! Put some pants on, for shit’s sake!”
The amount of times you’ve almost seen a pair of balls hanging around shouldn’t be legal. You finally decide to round them all up in the living room for a discussion one day because it’s been getting out of hand.
“Listen,” you start your speech. The six of them are sitting around the sofa as you stand in front of them, arms crossed, and all. “I understand that you’re all used to living by yourselves for a very long time now. Trust me, I really do. But to be completely frank, I also really don’t want to see any dick and balls outside the bedroom, you know? I get enough unsolicited dick pics already.”
Jay looks like he wants to say something. “So, does that mean it’s okay if it’s inside the bedroom?” You give him a look. He politely puts his hands on his lap. “Sorry.”
“Anyway,” you continue. “Old habits die hard. I understand that. But someones these habits need to be broken for the sake of a peaceful cohabitation. That is why I thought of a countermeasure.” You tap on the large jar that’s been sitting on the coffee table since their arrival. All eyes are on the container. “Every time someone accidentally flashes anyone— of course, that includes myself— they have to put money in the Preservation of Dignity Jar as a penalty.”
“PD&J.”
“Yes. Thank you for your input, Jay. Jake, you’re raising your hand?”
Jake lowers his arm and clears his throat. “Who gets the money once the jar is full?”
“Very good question.” He looks proud of himself. You give him a smile. “All the money goes to me because of how much you guys have violated my eyes within two weeks of living here.”
“That makes sense,” Sunghoon nods at your proposal. Of course he does. He’s the biggest culprit out of the lot.
“That’s not fair!” Beomgyu interjects. “It’s not like I want you to see my dick!”
You give him a smile and he flinches back down into his seat. “So, is it my fault for walking into an unlocked bathroom?”
“Knock first!”
“I do, and you bitches never fucking answer!”
“Okay!” A clap resounds in the room. Heeseung makes an attempt to resolve the spat. “How about we all get the money in the jar?”
“None of your socialist bullshit, Heeseung. The most deprived should get all the money in full.” He winces the moment you step a little too close. You let out a sigh. “State your miseries. Soobin, you start.”
He’s been quietly fiddling with his thumbs since the beginning, and the sudden flush of attention isn’t helping his nervousness. “I...I have this Gojo figurine that I’ve been eyeing since last month, and—” Soobin cuts himself off. You raise a brow. He looks away. “N-nevermind. You can have the money.”
That was three more seconds of eye contact than usual. You should give him a pat on the head for that. “I’m in debt,” Beomgyu quickly presents his case. “I borrowed money from Jay and I need to pay him back.”
Jay goes next. “I’m a couple hundred thousand won short because Beomgyu borrowed money from me.”
“Those don’t sound very misfortunate, I’m afraid.” Jay says he totally, absolutely agrees with you and Beomgyu clicks his tongue before grumbling in the corner of the couch. Your eyes land on Jake, who hesitantly drawls out that he wants to buy a new beanie. Sunghoon spends too much time thinking so you eliminate him for being slow. “Heeseung, would you like to say something?”
“I just think we should all—”
“My turn,” you cut him off before he tries to settle for equality again. “My dorm caught on fire. I’m half-homeless right now. If there aren’t any objections about me being the most in need out of all of us, we can agree that I’ll be the one keeping the money.” They don’t dare make a noise. You grin. “It’s a pleasure doing business with all of you. Please feel free to walk around in your underwear as much as you’d like. Thank you.”
When you saunter out of the area, you hear Beomgyu rallying them to protest because this felt like an unfair arrangement, but by the end of the week, the jar is already a fourth filled with sweet, sweet cash and you have successfully established the steady flow of your passive income. Was that your intention in the first place? Perhaps, but they have to compensate you somehow for everything your eyes have been forced to witness.
But there is yet another pressing problem in your midst. This one, you’re not entirely sure you have a solution for.
“Hey,” you greet Jake after he opens his bedroom door for you. He invites you in and you realize he’s building an addition to his very extensive LEGO collection, so you’re careful not to aim your ass on any of the bricks scattered on his bed.
“What’s up?” he asks with a curious smile. 
“How did you get your friends to agree with me living here?” Jake cocks his head, eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, it’s kinda obvious that they’re not exactly comfortable with me being around.” 
“Are…you sure you’re not just misunderstanding?”
“Jake,” you exhale. “One of them picks a fight with me whenever he gets the chance, another one doesn’t even want to fucking talk to me. The other two are either desperately avoiding me or flat out think I’m about to hit them when I raise my arm for a wave. And aside from you, I can only hold a normal conversation with Jay, but those conversations aren’t exactly normal, either.” You have no idea if he hasn’t noticed this, or if he simply just wants to feign ignorance, but Jake looks like he’s in very deep thought. You sigh again. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here? I can just find another place to stay if I’m being too much.”
You must’ve hit a nerve, because he suddenly snaps into panic. “No! I mean, you really don’t have to go! Trust me, having you here is important to all of us.”
Now, that’s suspicious. You narrow your eyes at Jake, and he presses his lips together and looks away. Something is definitely up and you’re not going to give up until your dear friend voluntarily spills out his guts or until you make him spill it. 
“Important?” you prod. “What do you mean by that?”
He starts sweating even more. “I—I mean, those four are just shy, you know? They’re not very good at expressing themselves. And—and you’re getting along pretty well with Jay! They all have absolutely zero problems about having you here, I can guarantee you that.”
You continue staring at him for a little longer, throwing out a hum and sigh every now and then to get his gears grinding. When you deem him scared shitless enough, you finally start, “I see.” There’s something wrong in the tone of your voice and he knows it. Jake swallows nervously. You finally crack him. “Jake, I’m really disappointed.”
There it is. You watch as he crumbles right before your eyes. “I really expected better from you, you know?” A little more. “Of all people, I didn’t think you’d be the one to put me into this kind of situation. I mean, we’ve been friends for a good while now. No, I’m not angry! I’m just really, really disappointed.”
“Hear— hear me out!”
Almost.
“I have nothing to do with the bet, I promise! I’m just an unwitting participant, so please don’t get mad at me! I’ll tell them to quit it, I really will!”
Gotcha.
“Oh, so there’s a bet?”
It’s like you drained all the life out of him within a matter of seconds.
“H-huh?” he stammers, eyes batting in confusion. “Didn’t you say you were disappointed? Haven’t you found out about the whole bet thing?”
“I found out thanks to you.” It probably isn’t a good thing if Jake is this terrified about you finding out. You lean back, palms sinking into the push of his blankets as your friend continues to eye you nervously. “How about you tell me more about this interesting bet? Does it have something to do with me having to live with all of you?”
He’s nipping on his bottom lip. It’s becoming more evident that whatever this bet is— you surely have the right to know. “I’m sorry,” he finally spits out. “I—I can’t say— at least not at the moment! But, I promise it’s nothing bad! It’s completely harmless and not dangerous at all!”
It’s definitely something bad. “Alright.” You get up. He instinctively blocks your way and panics again when he realizes what he’s doing. You click your tongue. “I’m not going to force it out of you if you don’t want to tell me. You’re still the owner of the roof I’m living under, so I can’t exactly try to fight you, you know?”
“So, you’re not leaving?”
Jake is wearing his puppy dog eyes and you honestly start to feel bad. You sigh for the umpteenth time and raise an arm, letting your fingers pad through his soft hair when you pass in front of him, walking towards the door. “I’m not,” you assure. “I am finding out about this god damned bet eventually, though. It’s honestly worrisome how easy it is for you guys to crack under pressure.” Flashbacks consisting mostly of Soobin and Heeseung flit through your mind. You’ll try to mess with them a little less from now on.
You exit Jake’s room with a new problem on your plate and your previous one unsolved. It just keeps building up more and more.
To be honest, the biggest problem you expected to have upon discovering that you’d be living with six grown ass men would be them bringing in girls way too often for your personal comfort, but so far that hasn’t happened yet. Something tells you that you don’t need to worry about that anymore.
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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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harleehazbinfics · 3 months
Text
Home is where my Heart is.
Chapter 3: The First Time Table of Contents | Profile
Word Count: 1100+ Warning: implied rape and abuse A/N: idk i feel weird that he's kinda ooc; tbf he is very different here in this ff BUT LISTEN crazy meets sweet, ITS KINDA CUTE also also, imma take a break and continue my devout!reader ff, you can check it out here. thanky!
mmmmm i changed so much dialogue i wonder how this'll go. (edited as of Feb 20)
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It had been quite a few months after Alastor and I have started going out. Nothing drastically different happened when we were still friends then transitioning to lovers.
Both of us would mind our own business, however, that didn’t really mean that we weren’t thinking about each other. If Alastor went on radio, I would listen to him while doing mundane chores, listening to his voice through the vintage filter of the stereo, I'd even retort to his witty commentary as if he was in the room with me. While, I would be out doing shows across the city, ranging from clubs and cafes to the early television programs.
Today was one of those days, where I would be waiting for Alastor to pick me up after performing a show, as he promised to bring me out to drink for our date. I stood at a lamp post waiting for him, looking down at my shadow.
“Well, look who it is. Lil’ Mel out in town?” a raspy voice said to me, “Must be nice to finally get out of that orphanage, huh? How’ve you been liking it so far? Missed me?”
Hearing this familiar insistent voice sent shivers down my spine, having flashbacks of my days in the orphanage. I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Go away, Aidan. I don’t want to talk to you,” I announced, fear creeping up on me.
“Oh, don’t be like that, babe!” he said putting his hand on my shoulder, “Don’t you remember all our fun times?”
I wriggled out of his grasp and angrily answered, “Fun? Hah, you’re insane. And never call me babe! Goodbye.”
I tightened my grasp on my sling bag and briskly walked away, looking for a more crowded area. But I never got too far when he suddenly had my arm in a tight grip making me squeal in pain. He covered my mouth with his other hand hushing me, and placing his knee between my legs. This scenario was all too familiar that tears welled up in my eyes automatically, but I gathered all my courage tensing my body and biting his hand, frustration clear on my face.
Meanwhile, Alastor was already a few buildings close to your arranged meeting place when he stopped when he heard a familiar voice.
“I told you to let go of me!”
This shout reaches his ears following a thud, fearing the worst he then bolts toward Miledy’s direction.
“Miledy!” he yells however freezes when he sees a man looming over her with a metal pipe in his hands.
“AL!” she screamed scared out of her wits.
Without a second thought, he lunges at the man throwing the both of them to the side leaving me on the floor. I looked at Alastor in fear for him when I saw him struggling to wrestle the larger man off of him.
“STOP! GET OFF HIM!”
Aidan seemed to falter when he heard me, creating an opening for Alastor and managing to stab him through his chest. Aidan gathered the last of his strength to wrap his hand around Alastor’s neck. I panicked and grabbed the forgotten pipe and bashed him over the head, making him go limp on top of Al.
Alastor moved the body to the side and with a relieved look on his face, he moves forwards and pulls me in a tight hug.
“I was so scared. Did you get hurt?” he frets over me.
“You’re not scared of me? I just killed a-a person, Al,” I asked afraid of his reaction.
“Heavens no! I’m more relieved you’re not hurt,” he replied letting go of the hug and placing his hand to the side of my face.
Relieved that Alastor didn’t leave her despite her sins, she finally broke down as she recounted the traumatic events that had happened, including the times where she comforted herself to sleep crying after Aidan was done playing with her, causing all these bottled up grievances to burst out. While Alastor did his best to comfort her in an embrace.
“We should probably leave now. It won’t take long before someone calls the police,” he explained holding on to her shoulder. I only nodded my head shakily still rattled and followed his lead.
He covered the body and lifted it over his shoulder keeping it steady while his free grabbed my hand and ran far far away. We eventually ended in a forest where we buried the body. I wiped the sweat off my brow breathing deeply from all the extraneous activities. After that was all done, Alastor led me to a cabin outside the hunting grounds.
“Where are we?” I asked while looking at the old furniture and the floorboards that creaked.
“My house,” he stated simply offering me a glass of water. I took and drank all of it without a second thought making Alastor tug a very subtle smile on his lips at how she completely trusted him.
“Al, we just killed a man and buried him. What if they figure out that we did it? What will happen to us?” I ramble, face going pale from different scenarios going through my mind.
He kneels in front of me a frown adorning his face when he saw how distraught I was and replied, “I’ll never let them hurt you. I promise, they will never know.”
“What about you, Al! What if they take you away from me. I don’t want to be separated from you!” I yelled hoping he’d care about his own well-being.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said reading through me and holding my face in his hands, “I’ll never ever leave you, not if I can’t help it.”
My eyebrows furrowed still unconvinced, “How can you be so sure?”
His eyebrows drooped and a wry smile takes place while putting his hands on my knees obediently, “I’ve been hiding from them for years now. They haven’t had any idea that it was me. Knowing a lot of people surely has its perks.” I looked at him confused. “The first person killed was when I was 16, on the day that my mother died, and I’ve been running ever since.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you. But I never wanted you to be involved in this dirty past of mine,” he apologizes. “But I swear on my life that I never had any bad intention towards you. All I want is for you to be safe and free from worry.”
It took a very long time before one of us did or said anything. I took his hand, stood up and walked him towards the balcony that we walked past getting here. And just watched as the sun slowly rose hand in hand.
“I guess this is how we live for the rest of our lives now,” I uttered just above a whisper to the wind.
“I’ll protect you. No matter what.”
“Me too. You can depend on me… I love you, Al.”
“Thank you, Miledy.”
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chaotic-mystery · 11 months
Note
Don’t mind me 💆‍♀️ just minding my own business 💆‍♀️ thinking about best friends dad joel 💆‍♀️ flipping my skirt up and fucking the attitude out of me 💆‍♀️ making me call him sir instead of Mr. Miller 💆‍♀️ being mean and condescending, slapping me 💆‍♀️ and then unleashing his praise kink on me at the very end 💆‍♀️ calling me his good girl because I took it so good 💆‍♀️
Don’t mind me 💆‍♀️
Goodness I tried to do this justice bby Everyone say thanks to Kait for helping me set the scene WC:1.6k CW: SMUT OBVI 18+, slapping, spitting, sir kink, rough joel, age gap implied (legal ffs), degrading, names (cumslut, whore, slut, bad girl, angel, darlin, yadda yadda) praise kink at the very end, condescending joel. Tell me if I missed anything & if you liked it! <3
Your closet was no stranger to short skirts and your best friends dad wasn't so slick about checking you out when you wore them to his house to hang out with Sarah. Sure, he didn't mind you wearing them to his house for only him to see and admire, to take a mental photo of for later when he was alone in his bed, but he hated the times you'd come get Sarah and go out wearing them. You messed up this time though when you chose the shortest one you owned. It barely stopped below your ass and you can bet Mr.Miller was the first one to notice when you walked by him earlier and he almost broke his neck trying to get a good look.
As you closed the front door and started walking to the garage where the overhead door was open, the music was getting louder that was coming from the radio inside the garage. You rounded the corner to see Mr.Miller installing something new on the front of his truck, a slight glisten to his skin from sweat. As you finger combed your hair and tugged your skirt down, you had to clear your throat to get his attention. "I'm outta here for the night Mr.Miller, thanks for having me over." He gave you a small smile and a nod as he tossed down the wrench he was toying with, "Don't mention it, sugar. Did ya get enough to eat? Know I don't wanna send you home still hungry." The short sleeves on his t-shirt tightened around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you moved into the garage a few steps, tugging down your skirt again. "Yup, thanks again for cookin', you know I love your food." The radio seemed to get quieter but it was just your mind drowning out anything that wasn't this gorgeous mans voice.
"Can I ask you somethin, angel?" Angel. That's been your nickname since he met you when Sarah brought you home from college, there was no meaning behind it other than it came from Halloween when you were an angel and Sarah dressed up as a devil. "Sure, Mr.Miller, what's up?" You moved a box of broken tools sitting on a stool and set it on the floor, trying to keep your knees together at all times so he didn't see your panties. Of course you wanted him to, just "accidentally".
"Why do you wear those little skirts if you constantly fix them so your ass isn't showin'? Y'know if you're uncomfortable you can jus' take it off." His eyes drifted up your legs as they landed on yours, his fingers not fiddling with the bolt he was previously toying with. It felt like someone reached over and stole all the air from your throat, your entire body freezing. He wasn't going to get the best of you though, not in the slightest. "I happen to love this skirt Mr.Miller, thank you very much." You dropped your feet off the foot rest on the stool so your legs dangled and ran your hand down the small pleats of the skirt. He gave a chuckle and shook his finger at you.
"You aren't foolin' anyone pretty lil thing. I know you need the attention so bad, that's why you wear them to my house so you can get me to look when you walk down the hall, naughty girl. You crave that rush of getting your best friends dad to look at your ass when you bend over." Who did he think he was to call you out for your outfit choices? He had no idea what you wanted or needed. You stood up and started going towards him, raising your hand to connect with his face. He caught your wrist mid-air before it touched his cheek, a smirk on his plush lips.
"Don't think you wanna do that, do you angel?" His hand crept up your face and pinched your cheeks together, making your lips pout slightly. Joel pressed a light kiss on them, and licked your bottom lip ever so softly. "Fine, keep it on I don't mind. Turn around and bend over for me, let me see that pretty little pussy before I tear it up." Your core was shaking and you had to contain your excitement so he didn't know you've been wanting this for years.
"O-okay Mr.Miller" you stuttered and leaned against his truck as he pinned your head down, brushing your hair out of his way. "No more of that shit, call me sir, got it?" his tone was kind of colder now but that didn't stop you from getting turned on. "I got it, yes" you whimpered and grinded your ass against his hardening cock through his jeans. "Repeat it." Joel pulled at your hair and lifted you off the truck just enough to have your ear line up with his lips. You winced at the pain of your hair being pulled, "Yes sir" was all you could muster out.
"Would you look at that, the brat does listen." He smacked your ass roughly before he tore off your panties, ripping them like they were nothing. As he got down on his knees and spread you apart, he admired your glistening sweet folds that were very telling of how much he was turning you on. "Yeah I knew you liked that, my little slut. God damn you're so wet for me already, it's a shame I won't get to taste you. Bad girls don't get their pussy ate." Joel gave your pussy a slap and stood up, unbuckling his belt to drop his pants. "Yes sir" you yelped in response and your knees shook a little at the sting of the slap. No one had ever smacked your pussy until then and it was hard to say if you liked it or not.
Your eyes rolled into your skull as he ran the head of his cock between your slick lips, bumping your aching clit roughly. Squirming from how it gives some sort of relief to you, he grunts and presses your head firmer against the hood over the truck. "Stay fucking still, got that?" Joel leaned down and split on your entrance, rubbing it and slipping a finger inside teasing you. He slipped his hard cock inside you and you jolted forward, not realizing how big he was. "No no no, don't run away now. Take this fuckin cock like the whore I know you are, angel."
"Fuck- you're so big sir, please I need more, more" you begged and clenched around his cock, whimpering and grasping at anything you could. Joel grabbed your wrists and pinned them against your back as he started thrusting into you, the squelching coming from your tight hole making him groan in amusement. "Yeah I bet you do need more? Need someone to fuck the attitude outta you, fuckin cumslut? Hm?" He let go of one of your wrists and pulled you against his chest, smacking your cheek just hard enough to get your attention. Your mouth dropped and a smirk formed, a giggle coming from you. "Again, sir please. Hit me again daddy, I fuckin love it." You giggled and were met with another smack on your face as he buried his cock so far inside you, his balls loudly smacking your clit.
"Dirty fuckin' baby. I can tell how wet that gets you, you're soakin my cock every time I smack that goddamn beautiful face, dumb little cumslut." He turned your head towards him and shoved his tongue in your mouth. Joel pulled away and stood up as he grabbed you and pinned your back against the hood, hiking one of your legs up on his shoulder. "Put my fuckin cock back in that little pussy, right now." he demanded and you reached down grabbing him and positioning the head right at your entrance, moaning loudly as it goes back inside you.
The sweat covering you two made you glow under the fluorescent overhead lights, moans cut off with more smacks to your cheeks. "Who does this pussy belong to, angel?" Smack.
"Y-Yours sir, all you." you groaned out as you breathed in deeply, grunting as he was hitting your g spot.
"Damn right. Look at you, you wanna cum already and be daddy's cum slut? Tell me that's what you want baby. Tell me you want me to fill this little pussy with my cum." Joel snarled as his thumb went down to your clit and started rubbing roughly with thrusts making your body shake.
Your eyes were squeezed shut from the overwhelming pleasure mixed with Joels filthy mouth, you really had to focus on what you were going to say. "I wanna cum so b-ad for you sir, so fucking bad" your words were spoken between sharp breathes and he was loving every second of it.
"Cum for me baby, you've been so good taking this big cock so well. C'mon cum all over let me see you cover my cock sweet girl." he whimpered and kissed you, holding your face as his fluttered his tongue against yours. You swore you saw the heavens as you released all over him, screaming his name, damn near on the verge of crying. He groaned loudly as he pulled out and came right on your stomach, right under your belly button. His body jolted with every string of warm cum that landed on you, your clit throbbing still with excitement. After Joel finished milking his cock dry, he placed his hands on the hood on either side of your body. His damp curls tickled your face as he kissed your forehead softly, his eyes looking down at the work he did and you both giggled. "That's my good girl."
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squoxle · 2 months
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Hiiii sisisssyysysyys! I was wondering if you do a hee ff and it’s just y/n and him. I want the plot to be like a late night of the streets in nyc. And you can do whatever you want 😊
Girl 😩 I apologize in advance if the story is kinda wonky…I really wanted to make this for u ASAP…but I’ve just been sooooo busy 😭❤️ anywayzzz I hope u like it
❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬❞ ~ 𝐋.𝐇𝐒
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•♥☙♡ ʚɞ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʜᴇᴇ𝖲ᴇᴜɴɢ!ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ 𝖷 ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ғᴍ | ʚɞ ᴡᴄ: 𝟫𝟨𝟢 | ʚɞ 𝖲ᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғᴇ𝖲𝖲ᴇ𝖲 ʜɪ𝖲 ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ 𝖲ᴋʏ | ʚɞ ᴄᴡ: ᴀɴɢ𝖲ᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴍɪɴᴏʀ 𝖲ᴍᴜᴛ (ᴀ.ᴋ.ᴀ. ᴋɪ𝖲𝖲ɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ 𝖲ʟɪɢʜᴛ ғᴏɴᴅʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ) ♡❧♥•
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Heeseung held your gaze as if he were frozen in time and space. The sexual tension burned like firey flames from your hearts. But nothing could have prepared you for this moment.
The moment when his delicate lips would meet yours.
The moment your lives would change forever...
. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓎...
Heeseung had called you the night before to make plans for today.
"There's something I want to talk to you about," he whispered softly, "In person..." his words trailed off.
What could be so important that he couldn't just tell you over the phone. Heeseung rarely blew things out of proportion, which left you curious. Wondering what he wanted to talk about.
Somehow you managed to tuck your curiosity away in the deepest part of your mind for the majority of the day as the two of you hung out together. Though you couldn't deny the fact that he had done a great job keeping you distracted.
"Hey, what do you think about this?" he giggled as he turned around to show you a pair of oversized glasses.
"I think you look like a clown," you chuckled back, watching as a bright smile grew across his face.
"Him, you're right. Maybe they'd look better on you," he said as he walked closer to you, placing the glasses on your face. His expression softened as you adjusted the glasses yourself.
"I probably look even dumber than you," you scoffed lightly, pulling your lips into a slight smirk. You watched as Heeseung's eyes followed your movements. "Uhh..." you started, cutting through the silence. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just a little hungry. How about we go get something to eat?" He asked.
"Sure, what're you in the mood for?"
"Pizza?"
"Wow! I'm surprised you didn't say ramen," you said in an attempt to keep the conversation going.
"Well, I only like it when I make it," he smiled. "It's not like I can really make my own pizza," he chuckled as the two of you walked off.
. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔...
After sunset, you and Heeseung walked across Brooklyn Bridge. You loved how it lit up at night, the lights mimicking the stars in the sky that were harder to see out here.
Heeseung knew how much you loved stargazing, but couldn't do it anymore after relocating to such a big city. The sense of longing washed over you as you walked across the metallic structure.
"What?" you asked as you felt Heeseung's gaze on you.
"Nothing, I was just thinking about something."
"Does it have anything to do with that thing you wanted to tell me last night?" your question hung in the air for a bit before Heeseung let out a sigh.
"Uhh...yeah, but I'd rather talk about it in private," he said as the two of continued your walk across the bridge before entering Cadman Plaza Park.
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The air was cool and moist, and the streetlights highlighted small puddles of water that pooled near the botanical arrangements. At this point, you had just noticed that Heeseung was holding your hand.
You walked with him under a set of trees, away from the other few people who were also enjoying a night walk in New York.
You lied down in the grass next to Heeseung as you peaked through the tree branches to see the night sky bleeding through.
"____..."
"Yeah?"
"You know that thing I wanted to tell you?" He rolled onto his side to face you, propping his body up on his elbow.
You waited patiently for him to speak, as you could see his shy side coming out. He bit his lip softly before continuing.
"I-I don't want this to ruin our friendship or anything, but," he paused, playing with the grass between his fingers. "I really like you...and I have for a long time."
To be honest, you had liked Heeseung from the beginning, but you settled for a friendship rather than a relationship and you still didn’t know why.
He looked embarrassed as hell. You took a little too long to respond, leaving an uncomfortable amount of silence in the atmosphere.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just forget I said anything,” he continued before lying down on his back, closing his eyes after taking a deep breath.
A thought crossed your mind and you weren’t gonna be stupid enough to let it pass by. You leaned over to kiss Heeseung’s lips.
His cheeks were slightly red his doe eyes jumped open when you placed your hand on his chest. “I like you too, and I have for a long time now,” you smiled.
His lips formed into a smile as he pulled your face into his, kissing you again. You straddled his body as he gripped onto your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You slowly rocked back and forth, feeling him grow harder beneath you.
Though you had just started, the sexual tension was strong now and your movements excited him. It was obvious by the way he sat up and breathlessly gasped for your touch.
Your tongues intertwining as he moved down to your neck. “Maybe we should continue this somewhere else,” he chuckled softly against the wetness on your neck as you reached to palm his bulge.
“Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” you said looking at his flushed face and ruffled hair. “Would it be weird if I said you look hotter with your hair like this,” you smirked.
“Not weird, but definitely enticing. Makes me wonder what you would look like all flustered and messy,” he said before kissing your lips again.
. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹…
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❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @hynjinnn1 @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa
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dilxcc · 3 months
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chapter five
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summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .
contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .
note. i swear this chapter would be more enjoyable if you read it while listening to kai's come in. ALSO FOR EVERYONE'S INFORMATION!! i actually was listening to kai's say you love me (i thought it fits the yandere theme much more but angst works too hehe) when i come up with this ff 🤭 im not even going to lie when i say most of his songs inspired me to write
previous chapter
his face was adorned with a sweet smile. one hand caressing your hair while the other were wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. you were too caught up in what was happening until he was suddenly further away from you. your voice were stuck in your throat, desperately trying to call out for him.
that gentle smile were replaced with resentment. you didn't get what was happening. your heart ache as he continue to get further away. you begged for your legs to start moving ― to start chasing after him. but it wouldn't move.
.
you woke up with a start, slightly out of breath as you take in your surrounding. your head was immediately turned towards the door when it swung open, revealing the very source of your nightmare. "satoru..." you muttered. despite your best effort to look like nothing had happened, he had already caught on to it.
"you good?" he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. "yeah," you answered almost immediately. he knew that was not the case. hell, he's been friends with you since your teenage years. of course, he would know if something was wrong. but he didn't push the topic any further. "are the kids okay?" you asked softly. he put the plastic bag that he brought with him on the bedside table. "they are. thanks to you," he smiled slightly.
you let out a sigh of relief before laying back down on the bed. "i brought your favorites," he said, his eyes were wandering around the hospital room. "eat it while it's still hot," he added.
for the next few minutes, he accompanied you as you ate your lunch ― that was what he told you. as if noticing your constant need to clear your throat, he suddenly got up from his seat and started walking towards the door. "where are you going?" you immediately asked. "missing me already?" he asked with a teasing smile, making you to crack a smile of your own. "i'm getting you water," he said softly, his hand on the doorknob. "i'll be back in a few,"
after he left, you were left alone with your thoughts. your mind wander back to the dream you just had. was it really a dream..? or was it some sort of prediction that might happen in the future? you shook your head slightly, denying all possibilities. there was no way that would happen... right?
.
the two students clung onto you, tears staining their faces as they shout words of gratefulness. "you scared us back there!" itadori started. "we thought that you died!"
gojo only watched the scene unfolding before him with amusement. the fushiguro boy had a concerned look on his face but he was trying his hard to not show it.
after a few minutes of consoling your students, they finally calmed down and returned to their usual routine. you were left alone with the gojo satoru yet again. "don't you have a business trip? you usually have one," you muttered.
"told those old men that i'm busy," the white haired male shrugged. "then why are you still here?" you tilted your head in disbelief. he let out a chuckle and shrugged. "let's hang out," he smiled brightly, dodging your question expertly. he do know why he was here ― why he was reluctant to leave your side. he was scared that you might get hurt again; that you might... leave him.
you sighed and shook your head. "i can't, satoru. i still have classes," you rejected. "oh, you mean the one you had after this? loosen up. you still got two more days before you actually need to start teaching again," he said. "plus, those kids won't have a single mission any time soon," he smiled.
"no, means no, satoru," you sighed. "yes, you mean?" he insisted. without asking for your permission, he grabbed your hand and warped the two of you in front of a sweets shop. "satoru!" you groaned.
without letting go of your hand, he starts walking inside the shop, looking through at the various flavors they have. "choose your favorite," he said softly before letting go of your hand and wander around the store in search for his favorite flavors.
you sighed in defeat before you decided to give in and take a look around the store. it had different flavors, some you have heard of and some that you have never heard of. your eyes stopped at the familiar candy that you used to eat back in the days. yours and satoru's favorite.
you wondered if it was still his favorite.
.
sitting at the park bench, you unwrapped the toffee plastic and popped it inside your mouth. "oh," satoru was frozen in his spot, his eyes glued on the confectionery. he remembered the times during your teenage days when both you and satoru would eat these candies under a tree, laughing at each other's joke.
"still your favorite?" he asked softly, his eyes soften behind his black glasses. you hummed and closed your eyes. "i haven't ate this since..." he trailed off. obviously he meant since the time that your relationship drifted away. "yeah, me too," you smiled bitterly.
he scoot himself closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. there was no words needed to be exchanged. just simply being in silence with him, the chirping of the birds and his raging heartbeats were enough.
taglist: @wooasecret @charisthemaniac @tw0fvced @1lellykins @dnnalssndra
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justjams2003 · 4 months
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Fast Pace-11
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', mention of sexual assault, old man being creepy (Fred Vasseur ofc), nudity, tell me if I missed any
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian
Word count: 3k
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Part 10~Part 12
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There is an extremely fine line between want and need. Those born rich believe everything is a need. Oh no, my 14k turquoise necklace hasn't been polished, but I needed it for my gala. Not a want. Need, is something you cannot live without. Need is something that kills you. That burns you when you don't have it.
You need water, or else you'll dry up and turn to ash. You need food, or else your stomach will eat you until there is nothing left of you. You need air or else your lungs will collapse and you drown in your own gooey flesh.  
To you, it felt quite obvious. You need Carlos and Carlos wants you. You need him, or else you would've been kicked out of your apartment. Left to starve as you roam the streets, dirty and unwanted. To ashamed to ask for help, or even tell those who really should be caring for you about your situation.
He just wants you. In your eyes you were just something to keep him busy. To tickle his fancy. Cure his boredom when he's not working his body and mind to the bone. Aid him when the nights become too long. Or show him a good time when it all become too much. He could live without you.  
But, when you think about it, maybe your need was just a want. A tinkle of laziness that your exhaustion had brought fourth. If you were truly honest with yourself, you would've realised that you don't need him. You could easily find a better job somewhere else now that you'd worked your way up the ladder.
You would've been fine. And is his want maybe a need? You thought he was living the extravagant life. Girls on each arm, spending money left and right just for a few laps around the track. But last night, he has shown you the true crack in his walls.  
You see now. The pressure is tough, like the diamonds used to mine more diamonds. The extreme heat the tires are forced to endure. At the end of each race, they crumble and melt. Ripping apart in splinters of their former design. After each race, they're discarded, no reason to use something that's been under that amount of stress, right?
And yet, after each race, Carlos does it again. Billions of people, depending on him, willing him to fulfill their desires. You are the water that cools the heat of mining equipment. The heat gun that warms the tires. The safe haven that he's been needing.  
You see now that you are so much more to him. You see that you need to be so much more for him. He is in need and you must give more. Or else, he might just break and crumble and tear and there will be nothing left of your dear Carlos.  
"Carlos! Wait before you start." He looks so imposing with his whole race outfit on. His helmet makes him look so much taller. You grab him by that very same helmet and pull him down to your level. You open his visor and place a kiss on his cheek. "Pole position, for me?" Now, now is when he blushes. He doesn't answer you, he doesn't make any promises. 
This is the first time you've ever initiated contact. He's always been the first to kiss your forehead. To pull you closer to him. To hug you when you hurt, to care for you when you yourself don't want to. But you've deciphered his words. You see now that he is a chivalrous man who will not touch you, unless you take the first step. That is why you must train your body, treat it with highest honour. He doesn't want to hurt you.  
But as you watch him race by from the garage, and the clock so dreadfully ticks by, you can feel the adrenaline in your toes. All the way up to your heart, beating so loudly you might just faint. "He's doing it!" You yelp, mostly for yourself. It's not like anyone else would listen. Especially with his extremely possessive behaviour all morning. 
He didn't let you out of his site. If he had meetings, you had to wait outside. If he had media, you'd be in the room next door. Walking from place to place, his hand is on your hip. You remember, Ilsa had sent you a video of him at the media conference. You haven't told anyone about yesterday, it's far too private. For you and for him and for no one else to see or hear about.  
"Carlos, this has been an incredibly difficult year for Ferrari. While Charles is quick to anger, you manage to stay positive, how so?" He thought for a moment, licking his lips, combing his fingers through his hair. "My girlfriend, you know she's new to all this. She doesn't know about my failures. In her eyes I'm a superhero. As long as that doesn't change, I have nothing to complain about."  
The checkered flag is waved, time is up. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus, and even longer to believe it. He did it. Pole position. He actually did it. The whole garage is overcome with shouts of excitement. Everyone is jumping up and down, hugging each other, clapping hands.
You can see some engineers even want to do the same with you. Feeling moved by the pure elated joy. At the same time, you see the memories of his growls and flares flash before their eyes. That's alright. You barely know them after all. You're not for them.  
Still you join them in the barracks. He climbs out of his car, jumping up and down, you can only imagine how heavy his helmet must be. His eyes search the crowd, needing you. He needs to see you celebrate for him, just the same that you celebrate each time he makes it alive out of the car. Before his team gets their hands on him, his hands are on you. Hugging you tight, as if his life depends on it.  
The sharp steel of the barricade digs into your skin, but you don't care. You'd face the worst pain all just for him. It is so strange to believe how a fight can bring you so much closer together. Anything for him.
"You did it! You did it!" They all scream but Carlos can only hear your voice. He throws off his helmet as fast as he can. Carlos ignores his engineers and team principal. Instead he places a kiss on your cheek, the first return of a more intimate physical touch. "All for you, mi princessa."  
The team principal places his hand on your shoulder, while Carlos does his interview. "Christ, what did you do to him?" He has a wide smile on his face and clearly means it only with kindness, but you can't help but think of how tight Carlos held you last night. Every time you would stir he'd squeeze you. In his sleep he would whisper in fear, mumbling about how he just can't lose you.
And you can't help but wonder how much longer he can keep going with this game you're playing? Not just that, how much longer can he keep doing this job. Just for these moments that come only once a year.  
Yes he's smiling now, clearly beaming with joy. Not even an incline of last night's fear in his eyes. But how much longer can the both of you keep going? Waiting for him to crash into the wall. Waiting for the day that you get the call. Waiting for the day that you break and this relationship too ends in a violent crash.
Is it worth the smiles he has now? That fast paced thrill, is it worth the sudden stop? Because you can't keep racing forever and you can't keep this up forever. When is the point that you are more? More than just a money-spender? 
"Nothing," you shrug, know he won't understand your next words. "I just gave him a kiss on the cheek before the qualifying." The principal gives a boisterous laugh and then puts both his hands on your shoulders. "Well damn, next time why don't you sleep with him beforehand." 
He laughs, but you feel a strange churn in your stomach. The uncomfortable dissociation that every woman has felt. You feel like a toy, a ticket to his success. Like a piece of the card that they'll discard when it stops working. You feel much more  like an object than your very own Sugar Daddy ever made you feel.  
But his scent overcomes you before you can even open your mouth. That classic scent of Dior musk and freshly iron shirts. But now, more than ever, he's got this overwhelmingly masculine scent about him. The sweat from a hot race and the smell of the burnt rubber is all around you.
He's right in front of you. Carlos takes his team principal's hand and rips it off your shoulders. "Don't fucking touch her." Now that his helmet is off, his gaze is so much stronger. Anger, fueled by that similar to the Ferrari car he'd just been racing with. 
He turns around to continue with his duties but quickly stops in his tracks. "Actually, don't ever come fucking near her again." His hands, no longer gloved, reach under your arms and pull you over the barracked. You can't see anything, there are millions of flashes going off. Cameras, everywhere. Perfect, this will be the word on everyone's tongue.
Carlos takes your hand in his and practically drags you to his driver's room. "Carlos, you're being dramatic! It wasn't that serious!" He slams the door shut, you can feel the anger radiating from him.  
He turns to you, not a single sign of anger towards you in his eyes. But the fury is still there. "Not that serious? Mi dulce niña, you're crying." What? He moves in your space, his hands on your cheeks. No, no it can't be. You're over it, it's been more than three years you have to be over it. You sigh, admiring the new Prada heels you’re wearing, while wiping the tears from your cheeks.  
Your shoulders lift and then drop again. “It just brought back some bad memories. But he wasn’t doing anything wrong towards me.” His jaw locks and you can see he wants to say so much more. “Bad memories?” His touch is even softer now, his brows furrow together. “Yes Carlos, every girl has been assaulted it doesn’t make me special.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Who? Tell me now.”  
A sigh escapes you and you take his hands in his. “Don’t do this, Carlos.” He shakes his head, “No, you can’t ask that of me.” You dry up all your tears in an instant. “It won’t happen again. With you by my side, I’m sure it won’t. So, let’s not focus on it, yeah? You have plenty to do, I’m sure.” You can see his mind is torn between you and his driver duties. He could get in a lot of trouble if he stays here much longer. At the same time, he cares so much for you.  
“Okay, okay. Let’s do that. But, if this happens again, you’ll tell me, yes?” You nod, bringing his face close to you and kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be okay.” He smiles, forced but still. “Go, go enjoy yourself. You’ve worked hard for this.” This time, the smile is more real as he is reminded of his new victory.   
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I speed down the highway, the Ferrari Spider I had loaned for her goes 120km/h. I can see on the dashboard that the car is all the way in 5th gear. Yes, it’s nothing compared to the 360km/h I’m used to, but for her it’s as fast as she’ll ever go. Her hair is loose and wild in the wind. I’ve got the roof off, but still she hangs out of the window.  
Mi cosa bonita has got on the tiny red dress she had shown me the other day. The way she’s hanging, her dressed has hiked up all the way and is one slip up from having me pull over to the side of the road. The cut outs under her breast has a similar effect too. I keep my hand on her calve, to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.  
She’s put on her playlist, the whole car shakes as the speakers boom. She’s screaming every lyric at the top of her lungs. I don’t know any of them, most of them after all are in French. Not that I mind. Seeing her like this, enjoying herself more than ever, her body looking as delightful as can be, is already enough of a celebration to me.  
But as I pull up to the a nearby alcove, hidden away from the public, her eyes grow big. “Is what I think about to happen, about to happen?” She asks, allowing me to take her hand and lead her all the way down to the beach. There is no light but the moonlight. Stars light the path all the way down to the beach waves.  
Crashing down on each other, in a wild tumble and turn. “Carlos, I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” it’s September and there is a cold wind blowing in the air. Not quite Winter yet, but the first sign of it can be found on her pink cheeks. I take her hand in mine, unable to keep my body from hers for long. “I didn’t either, but isn’t it so lucky that we find ourself here after we’ve eaten. By a private beach, where no one can see us?”  
She hums and then wraps her arms around my neck. Her body is pressed up against mine, cold yes, but our friction together forces a warm heat in my loins. “What a strange coincidence,” her lips find my jawline. Placing kisses across my scruff. A delightful feeling that no other should ever be awarded. “Quel est votre plan pour moi, Monsieur?”  
Por Dios, she has me. She has all of me. Nothing I can give her would ever compare to this feeling. “Babygirl, si sigues hablando así, todos mis planes para ti se desmoronarán. Perderé todo el control de mí mismo.” She giggles and shakes her head. “Now we both have no idea what the other is saying.” I too laugh, “I suppose, but you could talk me in ancient tongues and I’d still understand.”  
She laughs and shakes her head, “Okay Shakespear,” my sweet girl lets go of me and turns around, allowing me to unzip her dress. As the dress falls over her shoulders, like water over glass, it is revealed that there is nothing else on her body, but the dress. My hands graze over shoulder, but lips just barely miss her skin as she walks off into the ocean.  
The scene reminds me of a young maiden being sacrificed to the ocean gods. Her beauty being too much for the earthlings to handle. Believing that such a fairness would cure their fish droughts. Am I her guardian? Sent with to ensure that she reaches the gods safely? Or maybe she is one of the Gods and I am only here to worship her. If that is so, it would be the easiest job I’ve ever done.  
At the same time, everything I could possibly do would ever match up to all that is her. Her laugh, her beauty, her kind nature that never wants and only takes what is given and never more. Nothing can be enough, but I will try until the day I die.
“Are you coming in or are just going to watch and stare?” She calls out, just her neck sticking out of the water as she bobs up and down with the waves. Within seconds, I hit the icy-cold water. A shock to all the nerves, more awake than ever. All exhaustion leaving the body as I’m woken, but still, I see she is not a dream.  
My arms reach her waist. Smooth soft waist, so much more skin than I’ve ever before been allowed to see, to touch. My lips find her collarbone, just barely above the water. I need her, I need her more than air. Her soft giggles as my beard tickles her skin. The water soothing the warm ache in my bone, luckily, she cannot see how much I want her as I kept my boxers on.  
“Carlos, I’m very proud of you.” Her soft delicate fingers intertwine in my now wet hair. Her makeup has been washed off, but she’s still just as beautiful. Her gracious up-do has also been wiped clean by the salty water. I cannot say anything that would truly compare to what those words mean to me. “Mi Amor, you don’t know how much that means to me.”  
She pulls me closer to her. Not a word is spoken between us, as we just hold each other. My head in the crook of her neck and her arms wrapped tightly around my head. My arms wrapped tightly around her waist; our bodies pressed tightly against each other. The waves pull and push us from side to side.  
I love her. I’ve known her five weeks now, but that is more than enough. I’ve watched her from afar from what felt like forever to me and now I have her in my arms forever even, if I have to burn the world down. Because this moment is ours and I’ll cherish this each time the world becomes too much.  
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New York Times 
“Carlos Sainz’s million-euro watch stolen in front of his hotel.”  
Us Weekly 
“Y/N Y/S/N seen in Gioia Bini on the Paddock.”  
E! News 
“Y/N, Kika and Alexandra seen buying big in Milan.”  
Page Six 
“Carlos Sainz celebrating his Pole Position with a joy ride along with his girlfriend.”  
Glamour 
“Top Five of Y/N Y/S/N’s outfits so far.”  
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Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
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ilycorisradiata · 2 years
Note
Hello, may I request a Ayato x m reader? little connected to the 'bloodline' where reader after getting so much attention and pumpering by Ayato wants to pay him back aka make him happier with things he likes tut I think we all know.. - so the reader tries to service Ayato and call him Master which makes Ayato turn to possesive self, do as you want I really loved your ffs!! (psst maybe Thoma accidently coming in to where reader tries to put on some kind of clothes to visually please Ayato then he apologizes but reader has a hard time putting it on so ask for help and that's it.. -) Sorryyy if I ask for too much!!
bloodline pt. 2
ಌ bloodline: kamisato ayato x masc!reader
ಌ theme: you pay back ayato as you feel he spoils you too much !
ಌ cw: 18+ NSFW, amab implied reader, no pronouns used for reader, ayaka gave you presents<3, skimpy lingerie, thoma helps you fix the linger oops poor dude blush blush, calling ayato master, he calls you pet, anal fingering, desk chair sex, desk sex, creampie, short aftercare<3, solo edited + solo read, cross-posted on ao3
ಌ wc: 3.5K
ಌ notes: eeee hi anon! thank you so much, i hope you enjoy this<3 i assume you've also got another request from what i see in my ask box, so i'll work on that soon :') bloodline pt. 1
It had been a couple of weeks since that night that had blown all of your troubles away. Everything felt amazing, you never heard any gossipers and Ayato was always clear in his praises, making sure you were alright. He had Thoma check up on you often when he was busy, even going so far as to make sure there was tea prepared for you and always having someone there to make sure you were fine.
Although the concern that first plagued your mind was at ease, you now had another problem. Ayato had been pampering you and giving you as much attention as he could, so much so that you started to feel guilty. Not because you felt undeserving, but guilty in a way that you weren’t giving as much back, and he’d always explain that you didn’t need to do anything for him. He was content in spoiling you as much as he could because seeing you happy made his entire day much brighter, but you still wanted to pay him back for his kindness. You wanted to do something for him. Whilst walking along the seashore with Ayato, you pondered many things that you could do to give him, your silence washing over the both of you, making Ayato question you.
“Why are you so quiet today, hmm? Is something on your mind?” He squeezed your hand, watching the waves slowly come in.
“Well… If you could have something from me, what would it be? It could be physical or non-physical.”
“Hmm… I thought we spoke on this before. I don’t need anything physically from you, because you already give me a lot, Y/N.” You look to him to see his usual warm smile, the one that reaches his eyes and his eyes crinkle at the sides ever so slightly. Sighing and looking to the sea, you knew he wouldn’t be able to answer in a way you’d hoped, he’s far too kind for his own good sometimes.
“Is something the matter?”
“I wish I could give you more than what I already do… You have given me so much, as well as having done so much for me in terms of reassurance that it feels unfair. I want to spoil you as well.” He stops in his tracks, unknowing to you as you continue with the pace you were both walking at before, admiring the way the sun was in its descent into the sea. Sighing to himself with a smile, he catches up to you, latching himself onto your hand.
“I can’t tell you what I want because I already have you, but if you want to spoil me more… Then go ahead. I’ll wait for what you prepare, even if it takes you a while and it’s been forgotten about in the meantime by myself.” Laying a kiss to the back of your hand, he squeezes it and spins you around to continue looking at the sea, arms wrapped softly around you. The sun had begun to dip into it, the auburn glow dying the sea as it glitters slightly with the appearance of the stars.
“We should go before it gets cold out here, I don’t want you becoming unwell.”
“I don’t want to get unwell either, because then my chances of spoiling you are gone as you would be pampering me until I got better.” With a chuckle, he lets your waist go to reach for your hand, guiding you back to the estate. It was a quiet night after that, where you both quickly got washed before falling asleep. The fresh sea air clearly doing both of you a favour with how quick it was for Ayato to fall asleep with you closely behind him.
When you woke up, Ayato was already away to do his duties, with a note on the small tea table near the futon. He normally left you a note on days he was in a rush more than usual, and it seemed that he wouldn’t be back until after dinner where he would be in the study fixing documents. This gave you enough time to think of how to spoil him, what you could do for him in return for his continued kindness.
It gave you an idea, remembering that Ayaka gave you many presents that you honestly had never shown to anyone else in sheer embarrassment. Ayaka was soft and kind-hearted towards you, but she absolutely loved how flustered you got over her brother. So, one day she had prepared many gifts for you, without much reason behind it. She said to open them there and then, and when you had you were gone− skimpy yet beautiful garments laid in boxes. If your soul ever left your body it was definitely in that moment. A total K.O.
Ayaka had laughed at your reaction, loud enough for Ayato to pop his head into the room and of course, you had never thrown things into the cupboard faster in your life. You were dishevelled, panting with your eyes blown wide trying to protect the door to the cupboard and Ayato just looked at you in utter confusion. When it was evident that Ayaka was struggling to keep her laugh in, Ayato merely told her to behave and treat you nicely before leaving again, seeing as you had made eyes at him to leave for a while. Ayaka totally meant well, and of course it was now coming in handy. You rummaged through all of the options she had given you, humming at the thought of finally giving back to Ayato.
Holding some of the garments up after months of them just sitting in there, you shivered at the thought. Ayaka made a good job of picking these out, clearly paying attention to detail and the colour scheme, seeing as it completely matched Ayato’s formal attire perfectly. Before you put it on, you went to the nearest toilet and began preparing yourself. It was the norm now, not really needing Ayato with the stretching as much as you did before, but you didn’t do it entirely just so he could do a little bit of the job himself. When you were satisfied enough with it all, you moved back to the bedroom. You thank Ayaka mentally for the garments, even if it was just to get a reaction out of you, you sorted through it and began putting it on.
There was a soft knock on the door before it slid open, freezing in place as you looked towards the door to see a frightened Thoma. He looked as though he was a deer caught in headlights, frightened enough because he’d just caught you in a very vulnerable state, barely dressed and revealing much more than he’d obviously seen before. Turning away with a beet-red face, he stutters out a sentence before sliding the door to the room shut.
“S-sorry, I should’ve knocked and waited… Your tea has been prepared and I thought I would bring it to you, Y/N.” You let out a cough, trying to clear any embarrassment from your voice before speaking.
“It’s okay, Thoma.”
“I’ll place it outside, I apologise again.”
“Thank you… A-actually, Thoma? Could you help me? I know what you had seen was unbecoming of me, but I actually can’t get this to look neat enough.” You could feel the hesitance Thoma felt, before the door slid open again, Thoma entering and shutting the door behind him. He placed the tea down on the small tea table, before moving over to you with a hand covering his eyes. The problem you were having was that you couldn’t fasten some of the silk ties that would wrap around your front and then around your back, it wouldn’t look neat without a second person helping.
“You’ll need two hands for this… I’m sorry you have to witness such a thing, but this won’t look neat and I’m too embarrassed to ask anyone else.” You wrap it around your front and then around your back one by one, holding each tie out to Thoma. Shaking hands took hold of them both, delicately tying them into a bow that was easy to unravel again.
“I apologise again that you’re helping me with this…”
“No, it’s alright, I was just shocked is all… I don’t think Ayato would be very pleased with me seeing you like this, please don’t let him know that I helped you fasten this properly.”
“I won’t. Thank you so much, Thoma.” He had fastened the last few ties, placing a hand over his eyes once he was done. He muttered out a ‘you’re welcome’ before politely leaving, albeit in a hurry with a still red face that had all but quickly spread to the back of his neck and knuckles of his hands, sighing in relief when the door had slid shut again behind him. Your heart was beating nervously after that, mentally cursing yourself for putting Thoma through that struggle but it would definitely be worth it in the end.
Wearing much more appropriate attire on top of it all and grabbing a special little bottle, you made your way outside of your room to ask the maids within the estate if they could help you prepare some sweet treats for Ayato. With much glee, they were quick to whiz you away to get them all prepared, which thankfully didn’t take long considering how much stock of everything there was (which you hadn’t known about before, but you weren’t exactly surprised). After thanking the maids and making your way to his study, you spot Thoma who was leaning on the frame of the doors outside of it. He spots you and eyes the snacks, knocking on the door and sliding it open for you, shutting it after you were far enough inside as you heard something rattling and then footsteps quickly moving away from it.  Ayato knew that it was you without removing his eyes from the papers in front of him.
“I see you’ve come to visit me. I won’t be long, so please make yourself comfortable.”
“Of course, master.” His reaction was obvious, he flinched and then coughed, his hand faltering to keep his pen still and you knew this had some effect on him. Placing the treats and the bottle to the side of him, you removed the garment to reveal everything you had prepared underneath, making your way to Ayato. He shifted in his seat, noticing you coming over to him but not really paying much attention to you, not just yet anyway.
You removed his left hand that kept the papers steady on his desk for a moment, just so you could slip in between and situate yourself on his lap. He was still unknowing to your current attire, simply allowing you to sit there whilst he worked away on the last few papers. Sitting patiently. There was no need to disturb him further, especially when his left hand made its way to your hip. When he had finished his work, he finally took a look at you, the normal look in his eyes disappearing and having been replaced with something more carnal.
“Was this your idea of spoiling me, Y/N? I’m already impressed, where did you find this in such a short period of time?”
“This was a present of many from Ayaka, the one I hid from you when you came in after hearing Ayaka laughing so loudly at me.” His hands had begun to wander as he took in everything in front of him.
“I see… She probably got this to tease you as your reactions to things like these are cute, but I am genuinely enjoying this very much.” Gloved hands felt up the silky material, eventually dipping his gloves everywhere that was bare, not covered by a thing. You shifted to straddle him, and a hand of his came up to cup your face, swiping his thumb over your lips.
“You look gorgeous…”
“Thank you, master.” The bob of his Adam’s apple was very prominent, a small glint in his eyes as his hands dove down to cup your ass, with a squeeze of course.
“That’s the second time you have called me that dear… Mind explaining why?”
“Is it not to your liking?”
“Oh pet, it is very much to my liking, I just wondered what brought this name on?” Bringing you in closer, he breathes down your neck and into your ear, whispering all the things he’d like to do with you. Every word felt like electricity was jolting through you, manoeuvring your hips into his every so often.  Gentle kisses on your neck turn into nips and bites, sucking into your skin to let you know that you were entirely and utterly his. Pulling away, he brought his gloved right hand up to his mouth and pulled the glove off with his teeth before prodding two fingers into your mouth.
“Relax, we need to prepare you first.” You stop him mid movement to look behind you on his desk, looking at the lube readily there for him and yourself. He smiles at you for preparing so much, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he reaches for the little bottle, and every touch got you excited for more. Pulling back, he poured some on his fingers before steadying them at your hole. He kept his left hand gloved, watching your every squirm and twitch when he’d drag his hand down to your abdomen but would shy away from touching your cock. Eager to touch your behind however, pushing the panties aside, he was quick to delve in with his middle finger and a look crosses his face when he realises you’ve done a lot of prepping already. He made sure it was okay to push another in, looking into your eyes for a silent ‘ok’.
Of course, his fingers were much longer than your own, hitting every intimate spot within you like it was pure muscle memory. Feather-light touches whilst he plunges his fingers into you like no tomorrow, you couldn’t help but curl yourself into him from the stimulation, rutting backwards into his fingers like you were in heat every so often. He didn’t miss the little noises you made, the breathy ones and especially the desperate ones that got caught in your throat. His cool glove roamed your chest, giving little tugs to your nipples and swiping his fingers over them as his lips finally met with yours, drinking up all your gasps and moans whilst succeeding to drag more of them out of you. He lightly dragged his hand around your waist, all the way around to the small of your back. Pulling it upwards in light touches and this time you were begging him to just fuck you already, impatience clouding your mind as you wanted him now.
“I thought this was for me to indulge in. Aren’t you meant to be spoiling me, hmm?”
“I- I’m sorry… Please- I can’t take it anymore.” Removing his fingers, you whined at the sudden emptiness you were feeling and especially the painful erection you were sporting that was trapped in silk. He didn’t bother removing any of his clothes, simply unzipping and pulling his own cock out. Lifting you up to hover over him, he looked as though he was ready to devour you entirely and it made your heart quicken. When you finally sunk down onto him, it felt entirely different from before. It was like it reached even further into you, and you couldn’t help but squeeze around him tightly, forehead plastered against his.
“You look so amazing, and all of you is mine. Nobody can have you like this.” There was something carnal in his eyes, something different from what you’d seen before.
“Of course, and you’re mine as well, Ayato.”
“Have you given up on that name you have been calling me now? I do very much prefer you saying my name… But that one did have a nice ring to it, though.” His gloved hand pulled the material of the panties back, your cock slipping out and smacking your stomach, precum smearing everywhere. Hissing when his hand tugged on it, timing his slow and deep thrusts with his hand, and making sure you felt the leather of his glove properly on your cock whilst thumbing the slit every so often. He took note of every gasp and moan you made, every little movement. Genuine bliss from just seeing you enjoy yourself.
“They’ll hear you outside, pet. Or are you trying to let them know what we are doing?”
“Ayato− Just…”
“Don’t hate me in the morning.” Both hands made their way to your hips, pulling you nearly entirely off of him before slamming himself into you. Your arms flew around his neck, one short scream soon turned into nothing, not a peep left your mouth in pure shock over how deep this position let him hit. He did it again and again, wet slaps and your moans could be heard as they battered off the walls and echoed within the study, Ayato enjoying himself to the max without a shred of evidence that he’d stop any time soon. The delicious way he hit your prostate over and over, struggling to hold anything in, that embarrassment you could have felt dissipating. You whined when you came, soiling his suit jacket like you had some endless supply.
Ayato took this chance to change positions, sliding stuff across the desk to make room for you to lay on. Kissing you with a fervour you’d never seen on him before, tongues’ dancing and teeth clashing, it’s like he was desperate to consume every part of you in a short amount of time. Pulling you in by your hips, he angled them up so they’d meet his own. He pushed into you again, sliding in easily, pushing hair out of his face as his hips rolled slowly into you at a gentle pace.
“Faster…” You whined. Wanting him to be satisfied as well, which didn’t take him long to breathe out and obeying you, giving you what you wanted.
“You feel amazing, and I have this all to myself…” He slammed into you again and again, not missing the way you tried to prevent yourself from cumming again, hand gripping the base tightly. He removed your hand replacing it with his right one, playing dirty as he seen your face scrunch up and you tightening around him. That familiar knot in your stomach welling up again, but before you could let yourself cum, you reached your hands up to try and grab onto Ayato properly, wanting to hold him close. He noted, despite his blissed-out expression, smiling warmly and bending down for you to wrap your arms around him.
You whisper little ‘I love you’s between needy moans, blowing air down his neck which caused Ayato to shiver. His own needy pants, groans, and moans of your name let you know that he was close, where he buried his face into your neck. Littering wet kisses and biting your neck softly. To prevent him from escaping, you wrapped your legs around him, and he filled you up with his own release. He kept thrusting slowly, fucking his cum into you and shivering every time you squeezed around him, you released another pool of cum that still managed to get all over Ayato’s clothes. You both stay like that for a while, just holding each other close as you both catch your breaths, not really caring that the stickiness of it all was getting gross.
Ayato was the first to move, kissing up to your face and giving you a quick peck on the lips before sitting up the way. You untangled your legs that were still wrapped around him, and he slides out of you, noticing the way his cum just drips and drips out of you. He puts his cock back in his pants, noticing the mess they were in as well, before removing his jacket and using it as something to cover you up.
“Let’s go bathe together.” He had stated, helping you off of the desk and supporting you as you wobbled slightly like a baby deer.
“I feel like you’re spoiling me again…” Ayato laughs at this, shaking his head as he all but drags you to the bathroom. He sits you down on a stool when you arrive, running the bath and removing everything he was wearing. He undressed you as well, quickly getting under the small shower beside the bath to wash off quickly. After guiding you to the bath, sitting you into it and following suit by sitting behind you, he cuddled into your back as you both relaxed in the hot water.
“If this was spoiling you, then I want to know what taking care of my partner normally is like. You were amazing, I never would have thought you’d do something like that either.” He chuckled light-heartedly, kissing your shoulder blades and rubbing circles into your hips.
“Expect more to come, master.”
“Archons, what will I do with you.”
968 notes · View notes
folkwhorerain · 1 year
Text
Just like clockwork.
Sam Carpenter x afab!Reader
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gif not mine.
summary: Sam proves you that you don't have to face everything alone.
warnings: description of PMDD symptoms, depression, mood swings, insecure reader, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, bad writing (english is not my first language). Feel free to tell me if I should add more!
(Maybe a little out of character for Sam, but I needed to write this for my own benefit.)
author's note: I got diagnosed with premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) two weeks ago and I did not take it well at all. I just had another PMDD episode and it was really bad, so I wanted to write something to get it out my chest and since Sam is my current comfort character I wanted to write a ff about her comforting reader.
Please remember that this is based on my experience with this disorder and I do not intend to make anyone feel uncomfortable.
Enjoy!
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It hit you suddenly.
You were fine days ago until you weren't.
It intoxicated your brain without you noticing. You just thought you were being overdramatic as always but, like it happened almost every month just like clockwork, your mind proved you wrong.
It started with a numb sensation on your legs and an inexplicable fatigue, after a few days you started sleeping excessively and leaving the bed was more and more difficult everytime the blanket rocked you in its embrace.
Next you began feeling that heaviness inside your chest that haunted you just six or five days before your menstruation started. Again, just like clockwork. It doesn't happen every, single month but when it does, it's tough dealing with all the symptoms that accompany it.
"Shit." You whispered at the realisation that your PMDD was at its peak again. You will never get used to it. Everytime your period passed you mentally mocked at how much you overreacted, gaslighting yourself into believing that you were just being dramatic and that your disorder wasn't real, which it was actually. It was very real. You just needed to get into the next wave of depression to realise it, just to curse yourself for being so dramatic when your period passed again. It was a cycle you couldn't break.
As it always happened during these excruciating days, you were lying in bed with a urge to cry and a fatigue that came out of nowhere. You knew your symptoms would disappear as soon as your period started, but right now you just let yourself go at the inevitable sensations your disorder provoked you.
Your friends noticed you were detached from them and everytime they would offer you to spend time together or watch a movie, you would always refuse, taking a snack from the kitchen and heading immediately to your room, leaving your friends with a confused look.
You weren't ready for people to know about your disorder, so you only told your favorite sisters and Quinn since she's so nosy that she eventually figured out something was wrong.
"Is Y/N okay?" Chad asked with a hint of concerne in his voice and Tara attached to his sleeve. "She hasn't come out of her room for the past two days."
"I hope it has nothing to do with us," Mindy joked with her mouth full of food. Anika was at her side, stealing some chips from her girlfriend, who was too busy looking at Sam for some sort of explanation to notice. "We're good company, so that would offend me."
Tara looked at Sam with a knowing look. Her face held the same concern as the rest of the group and it only worsened when Sam stayed quiet, too lost looking at the calendar app.
Like the good girlfriend she is, she tracked your period just in case you needed extra help with your PMDD, so when the phone in her hands gave her the confirmation you were about to get your period, she immediately knew what was wrong and it almost annoyed her you didn't tell her like you promised to.
You were never one to ask for help or even talk about your feelings. You would rather walk on lava than saying something was bothering you, and Sam understood that. She was never open about her feelings herself and just suck them up until they didn't bother her anymore or she learnt to live with them. But when it comes to you and your health, it's different so she stood up from the couch of the apartment you, Quinn, Tara and Sam shared and walked towards her room which was now yours as well since Quinn moved in with you and took your old room. Not that you spent a lot of time in it anyway. You were always with Sam and most of your stuff was already in her room anyways.
"Y/N?" You heard Sam crack open the door and slowly walk towards the bed. You had your back to her, body fully covered by your weighted blanket. You stayed still. Hopefully she wouldn't hear you cry and just leave you be.
When you didn't answer the brunette thought you were asleep and contemplated if leaving was the best decision, but when she heard a sob escape your mouth (much to your dismay), she climbed into the bed and placed a hand on your shoulder.
"Hey, it's that bad again, isn't it?" She asked sympathetically as she stroked your back slowly. Her heart sank knowing you were feeling like this again and you decided to deal with it all alone.
You turned to look at her with red, puffy eyes. It took you a while to nod your head yes, not wanting to bother her with something that was only your problem and would probably just drag her into your spiral of sadness. But hiding was no use, it was clear as the sun that you were feeling shitty. "I wanna be alone, though."
Sam sighed quitely and squeezed your shoulder. "Don't push me away, Y/N, please. I'm not leaving you. I just wanna help."
You usually loved how she knew you like the palm of her hand, but as of right now it just annoyed you and it took all the strength you had in your already aching body to not snap at her. Therefore you took a deep breath and gave yourself some time before saying something you would regret. You weren't even angry at Sam. You didn't know what you were so angry about. You just were. You always felt like you were on the verge of exploding.
"I just–" you couldn't finish your sentence as you covered your eyes with both your hands and let out an annoyed groan.
Sam frowned sympathetically, both of her hands gripping gently your wrists in an attempt to not let you hide your feelings from her, no matter how bad they were. But you were persistent and there was no way you would've let her see you this way, so your hands didn't move. Not even a inch.
Sam took a deep, shaky breath as she thought about what could make you feel better. Keeping her composure was hard in a situation like this, but she knew it wasn't easy for you first. After all, it was you who had to deal with it in the first place.
You uncovered your eyes when you felt the weight on the bed was gone and your girlfriend had disappeared.
You pouted and tears started streaming down your face again, both from sadness and anger towards yourself. You couldn't believe you felt sad she left when you were the one who told her to leave you alone in the first place.
"Why do I have to be like this?" You whispered as you pulled yourself up and sit on the bed, throwing your phone on the bedside with too much force.
You hated it. You couldn't believe you had to feel like this because of something so… natural. Periods should be associated with life and birth. Hell, in some historic culture a menstruating person was considered sacred, you couldn't believe you had to deal with it in such a painful way.
You can't even say you couldn't wait for your period to start, because once you start bleeding, your ovaries feels like they're being stabbed over and over again.
Mentally excruciating PMS and painful menstruation. Great combo.
After a few minutes you heard the door open again and your girlfriend was standing there with a tiny smile and a glass of water accompanied by some snacks in her hands.
Your gaze softened at the sight and you wondered how could someone like you ever deserve someone as caring as Sam Carpenter.
"I know you forgot to take your meds, so here…" She cooed as she gave you the glass and your pills, which you gladly took but not before smiling appreciatively at the brunette. "I understand you want to be left alone and I accept it, but I just want to be with you throughout all of this. Please, let me take care of you."
"Sam–"
"We don't have to talk. We can just stay here and exist together." She was standing in front of you with a hopeful expression, waiting for you to give her permission to stay.
You took a few moments to think about it and meanwhile you got lost in the sight before you.
She had bags under eyes due to the tiredness two shitty jobs can give you and her usual jeans and sweater were replaced with pajama shorts and a blue tank top you were sure she stole from you. You loved how her black locks were styled perfectly even after a six hour shift and her dark eyes glistened with hope.
You must look like shit compared to her, not having the strength to comb your hair or eat a proper meal. You were even surprised you menaged to take a shower and brush your teeth. You'd probably look at yourself with disgust if you had a mirror in front of you. No way someone else would look at you differently.
Yet there she was, still looking at you like you were her whole world and when she looked at you like that it was almost impossible to say no to her, so you smiled weakly and patted the place beside you on the bed.
She smiled widely before she sank into the bed, covering her body with your favorite blanket. "Do you want me to hug you or you don't feel comfortable being touched?"
You suddenly felt a urge to be comforted and held, so you took this opportunity before you felt the need to be alone again and welcomed her in your arms. She wrapped her arms around your body, legs now entangled with yours. Her left hand wiped away your tears and the other stroked your arm slowly.
Guilt made its way through your body and that painful weight in your chest became heavier.
You hated yourself for being such a burden.
You didn't want people to deal with you when you were at you lowest. If you could, you wouldn't even deal with it yourself. But it was your mind and body, so ignoring its needs was not an option. But your friends and family had the opportunity to leave, to tell you to fuck yourself when you'd yell at them without an apparent reason, yet they didn't. Even when you pushed them away just like you did an hour ago and they decided to spend time together anyway. Of course that made you silently sob as you saw they could live without you.
It wasn't fair to think like that, you knew. But it wasn't you who had control of your mind when your depression was at its peak, it was your disorder and you could not disobey its will. No matter how much it hurt you.
"I'm so pathetic." You whispered with eyes full of tears again. Your thoughts were the worst part of these episodes. The voices telling you that you're not enough were persevering and it was hard to not listen to them. "I'm sorry you have to endure all of my shit. I would leave if I was you."
"That's not true, Y/N. You know you don't really think that." She whispered softly, placing sweet kisses on the crown of your head. "You're not pathetic for feeling this way. You didn't choose it."
You stayed silent, feeling paralyzed. The only thing you did was hug her tightly and stroke her hip affectionately.
Sometimes it scares you how much she knows you and how you think.
"I'm here no matter what. You are not your disorder. I knew there were gonna be ups and downs when I chose you, but just like you knew it when you chose me." She stopped talking just to give a few kisses on your neck, easing a little bit of the tension you felt. "If we gotta be honest, I'm the daughter of a serial killer who almost got herself and her friends killed just because of that. If there's someone who should leave, that's you."
A weak chuckle escaped your mouth at that last phrase. You weren't gonna leave her for that. Hell, you would rather be attacked by Ghostface than leave your girlfriend.
It didn't matter what Sam did or who she was. You knew the real her and you thanked the universe everyday for being able to see parts of her she hardly showed to anyone else.
You knew how hard it was for her after Richie turned out to be Ghostface and she decided to move to a city where people saw him like the victim and her like the villain.
Trusting new people wasn't an option for her and you were no exception when you responded to the anonymous ad of when her and Tara were looking for a roommate.
The first time you met her it almost looked like you were being interrogated, but when you left aside the thought of how pretty she was and you recognised her as one of the survivors of the Woodsboro attack, you understood why.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt her lips on your shoulder, and when you turned your head slightly to look at her, you saw she was already staring at you with a glint in her eyes she reserved just for you. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
She bit your shoulder playfully at your comment making you crack a smile. "I love you."
"I love you, too Sam." And with that she gave the palm of your hand a kiss, next she shifted to your neck, your jaw and finally your lips.
You couldn't help but smile as you tried to ignore the heaviness you still felt in your chest.
It was hard dealing with you when you felt like this but, everytime you needed, Sam was there.
Just like clockwork.
That's all, people!
As usual, I hope you liked it.🫶🏻
If your PMS is so bad that it effects your daily activities, please talk to your doctor about it. It may be sign of PMDD or other premenstrual disorders.
Remember you are not alone and I'm always here if you need to talk.
I love you all. <3
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symphonyofsilence · 11 months
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I love Wangxian as much as the next guy, but my unpopular MDZS opinion is that both LWJ & WWX after the resurrection were really shitty brothers. Both to their own brothers and to each other's.
Like...JC just threw himself in front of WWX & his boyfriend & Jiggy's sword & took a stab to the chest just narrowly missing his heart, & Wei Wuxian DIDN'T EVEN ASK HIM HOW HE IS! I'm sure JC didn't want him to thank him, but totally ignoring that & forgetting about it is... you know, not fine. even LXC was more worried about his wound. After the temple, when everyone was talking to everyone else, & WWX thanked JC for giving Chenqing back to him, he doesn't even wait until JC's answer is fully out before he immediately turns back to look at LWJ!
Even JL who wasn't talking to JC at that moment saw that JC had something to say! But WWX not only didn't give him a chance to talk, but didn't even have any interest in what he had to say, and wouldn't listen to him just like all the other times when JC tried to talk to him (Repeatedly reminding WWX of his promise & even asking why didn't you go back to Lotus Pier). As you try to do, after you brother has returned from the dead, after causing his own death, your sister's and your brother-in-law's. WWX doesn't think that that's an issue that they need to talk about. Because it's unpleasant for him. While he is not the one who's owed an explanation or an apology. He's not the one who gets to decide if they're having this conversation or not. Let alone asking about JC's wound! WWX! just! Left! With! His boyfriend! & didn't look back! Not even after JC's public meltdown!
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And and, what's worse, for both LWJ & WWX is this! Here is what happens when JC is trying to have a conversion with WWX about the non-consensual surgery WWX performed on him by mutilating himself on JC's behalf:
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Why yes, he is injured, Hanguang-Jun! He's injured because he threw himself in front of WWX & you little fuck!
He does this once, and it causes JC's wound to open and start bleeding again, and then he goes to do it again!
It's a matter that seriously needs discussion, Hanguang-Jun. JC's world has turned upside down without him having a say in it or even being told about it for years, Hanguang-Jun. JC has every right to talk about it to the person responsible, Hanguang-Jun. It's a family matter, Hanguang-Jun.
And ffs What do you think WWX's brother wants to do to him?! After he took a stab to the chest for him?! He is wounded and his spiritual energy is sealed, what can he do? He's going through it right now in front of everyone. why would you humiliate him even more?! They're brothers! It's none of your business!
And WWX doesn't say anything! It's Jin Ling who must beg Hanguang-Jun to spare his uncle!
(I think they understood what a shitty move it was in the CQL, cause WWX at least lifts a hand to stop LWJ there. And LWJ doesn't actually push JC, opening his wound again, And then try to do it A SECOND TIME AFTER THAT!)
Like...Beating someone's family member in front of them is a very, very rude thing in general when they're themselves handling the situation very well. They were just having a family argument, and LWJ felt the need to beat JC. If you want to de-escalate a family argument, you do it the way JGY does. Or LSZ, A CHILD, de-escalates situations. While respecting both parties. Or else it just escalates even worse.
And this happened at the Jiang ancestral halls, too. WWX was the first to attack JC (which was totally within his brotherly rights when JC was being a little shit) and JC counter-attacked. JC's spiritual powers, unlike WWX's and LWJ's, hadn't returned yet. WWX totally got this. It wasn't their first time fighting. OK, LWJ deflected the first blow of Zidian. He didn't need to intervene further when WWX was beating JC in JC'S ancestral hall. WWX himself passed out when he realized wtf he was doing. (& bear in mind that hours ago, JC with his spiritual powers sealed, barely able to walk, picked his sword and was going to go back for WWX in the burial mounds, before he knew about the golden core thing)
Imagine your friend invites you to their home which they've ran away from when they were very young, their sibling that now owns the house lets you in even though you don't even say hi to them or acknowledge their existence there in anyway, & your friend invites you to somewhere you really have no business being in. IDK. Say, the master bedroom that's been locked ever since their parents' death. Your friend's sibling arrives there and they have an argument. You get offended in the crossfire but your friend leaps in to protect your honor, by beating the said sibling. The said sibling beats back. Can you imagine actually beating the sibling?! Trying to separate them, sure. But beating them?!
& others have talked in depth & better than I about how LXC just murdered the love of his life after some very shocking revelations & was 100% ready to die with him & was clearly going through it & LWJ just left with his boyfriend to fuck when LXC was the one who was there for him when HIS boyfriend died. Like..no LWJ didn't leave his brother after a few days. HE LEFT HIM THAT VERY MOMENT! DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HIM A HANDKERCHIEF OR A PAT ON THE SHOULDER!
And people have also talked better than I about how WWX didn't tell LXC about Sisi bc...he might have shown JGY mercy?
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