#and i swear all the right songs are playing to make me feel so many emotions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

palioom · 7 months

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stuffing

summary: javier has never been able to get enough of you, but it's only gotten worse ever since you've become pregnant.

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); fingering; established relationship; pregnancy sex/kink; squirting; cum eating; cum play; creampie; some dirty talk

• masterlist •

Life in Laredo was boring.

Boring people, boring houses, hell, even the birds singing here seemed boring.

But that’s how Javier liked it.

The biggest news here was barely worth a mention compared to what he had seen in Colombia.

He was more than fine with this boring life, no more chases, no more heavy protection tact vests. No looking over the shoulder, no suspicious staring.

Though, he still did that from time to time.

Couldn’t quite shake the habit of suspecting people planned something bad, occasionally checking his car for bombs.

He’d probably never lose these things, it was too deeply embedded into his being now, had become a part of him.

But that’s why he loved this boring life.

Coming home to the little plot of land they had purchased right next to his father’s, staying close to Chucho and helping out whenever they could.

Coming home to a warm home, decorated with silly little trinkets, pretty paintings.

Everything neatly organized but with a certain chaos to it. He didn’t like things too neat, and while their home was tidy and clean, it looked lived in.

Maybe a little wild at times.

Not bare or sparsely decorated like safehouses or his apartment back in Medellín.

He loved coming home to the smell of food wafting to the front door.

Loved coming home to her.

His lovely wife, her back turned towards him as she worked on something, hair up and out of her face.

Moving her pretty hips and ass as she hummed along to whatever song the radio was playing. Completely in her own world.

He smiled when he saw her, walking up to her and pressing himself close, hands on her hip and kissing the back of her head before pressing one against her exposed neck.

She was warm and inviting, letting out a small sigh when she felt him, leaning back while still working on whatever food she was making.

“Looks good, cariño.” He said, kissing that spot behind her ear that let her sigh even deeper before resting his chin on her shoulder to watch.

“Thank you, it’s the stuffing for the poblano peppers I wanna make at the cookout tomorrow.” She said, her skilled hands cutting vegetables into small portions. “I know I could whip it up tomorrow, but I have so many things still planned and I don’t know how I’ll feel.”

A smirk stretched his lips wide, his hands roaming to her large, round belly. Just letting his hands smooth over it for a moment, they wandered to the underside of it, gently lifting it.

The sigh of relief that spilled over her lips echoed loudly in the kitchen and he watched how she put down the knife, just leaning back into him, hands gripping the counter.

It was a heavy weight in his hands and he couldn’t imagine carrying that around every day.

But she was such a champ, despite her swearing and complaints. And she had never looked more beautiful.

“We could make a different kind of stuffing.” He suggested, tone teasing. “Together.”

A small laugh bubbled in her chest, and fuck, how he loved hearing it.

“Pretty sure there’s enough stuffing inside of me already.”

Javier had always been pretty insatiable when it came to her, whether it was for the basic need of wanting to fuck his beautiful wife or because his past was plaguing him and he needed a respite, seeking comfort in her body rather than his usual vices.

But ever since she had become pregnant, he truly couldn’t get enough of her, hands all over her round belly and swollen breasts, needing some part of himself buried inside her pussy.

Not that she minded, he always made sure to make her feel good.

“C’mon, nena.” He said, letting her belly down again gently, taking notice of how she slumped a little. “There can never be enough stuffing inside of you.”

She rolled her eyes with a groan, partially from the heavy weight returning, partially because he was ridiculous. In the best way, of course.

“Better keep that talk to a minimum tomorrow.” She warned with a grin, turning around in his arms and leaning back against the counter.

“Yes ma’am.”

His lips on hers were gentle at first, moulding languidly together, his hand roaming up and down her side. Moustache tickling her upper lip.

Letting his tongue find hers, he could taste some of the vegetables she had chopped up, smiling at that. She tasted amazing and Javier couldn’t wait to have whatever she was making tomorrow.

But first, he wanted her.

Deepening the kiss, his hands wandered down to her ass, squeezing hard which made her moan.

The most beautiful sound he knew, soft and already high-pitched, a song no one else would ever know.

“C’mon, nena” He rasped against her lips, a small groan leaving him when her hands wandered into his hair. “Let me take care of you.”

She chuckled at his words.

“Take care of me or of your dick?”

Javier had to laugh at that as well, forehead coming to rest against hers, looking into her eyes.

“Is that what you think of me?”

She shrugged her shoulders, upside down smile on her lips.

Her hands moved to his cheeks, squishing them just lightly. She really wanted him, feeling wet already at the thought of him inside her.

But she needed to finish chopping the vegetables first, knowing she wouldn’t come back here once he had her in bed. And he wouldn’t do it.

“Can I finish this first, Javi?” She placed a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over the small scar there. “I know you won’t let me out of bed once you get me there.”

Javier sighed but nodded. Anything for his wife.

Kissing her forehead, he let his lips linger there as she hummed. “I’ll help you, cariño.”

It took them longer than expected to land in their bedroom, with Javier trying to get things done the fast way and getting reprimanded by her more than just once for how sloppily he diced the vegetables.

But, they had managed somehow, leaving the mess to get cleaned up in the morning.

She giggled when he pushed her onto the bed, gently, before kneeling before her.

Hands on her belly, lips back on hers.

“Wanna taste that pussy so bad.” He said, one hand sliding to her thigh and slowly pushing up the hem of her dress. “Wet and sweet for me.”

Kissing down her jaw to her neck, he could feel the moan vibrating in her throat, her hand at the back of his neck.

“Please, Javi.” She sighed, enjoying the way his lips felt against her skin, how tantalisingly slow he moved his calloused hand up her thigh.

Her legs spread further, allowing him to trace his fingers up the inside of her thigh before reaching the hem of her panties, already wet.

A soft gasp echoed between them when he pressed a knuckle over her clit, applying just a little bit of pressure.

Her fingers curled into his neck, eyes closed.

She was much more sensitive now, every little touch so much more intense as he languidly dragged his knuckle over the damp material.

“Feels good, huh, nena?” He asked, leaning back to look at her face, drinking in her pleasure as he pressed a little harder.

She nodded, humming, biting her lip when he brushed over her clit again.

“Take them off, Javi.”

He grinned, fingers hooking under the waistband and tugging them down her legs when she lifted her hips to help him.

Both his hands were back on her immediately, bunching up her summer dress so he could look at her soaking pussy when she leaned back on one arm. The other caressed the back of his head still.

No matter how often he saw her, he always looked mesmerised somehow, like this was his first time.

Made her feel special, the low, quiet whistle and grin on his face making her giggle.

“Pretty pussy all soaked for me.” He said, eyes still on her middle as he used his thumbs to spread her open, the air chilly against her. “You're stunning, cariño.”

She couldn’t quite see, her belly too big already, but she felt the rough pad of one thumb press into her clit, making her hips jerk forward.

“Always for you, Javi.” She smiled, nails scratching against his scalp.

His dark eyes found hers, sparkling and so loving and he leaned up towards her face, pressing a long kiss to her lips.

“Let me taste you, nena.” He said.

Just a few years back, when she had met him between his stays in Colombia, he would have just dived in without even asking, merely announcing it.

It made her happy that he had settled a little, had found enough rest to allow himself to change just a bit.

Just a little though, still falling into his old ways more often than not.

Exactly how she liked it.

“‘Course, Javi, you fucking know that.” She chuckled, kissing him again before he settled back down, grinning like he’d just won the damn lottery.

In his mind, he did.

With a woman so stunning, so perfect with her charm and wits and that round belly only making her angelic.

He felt like he had done something right for once when he put a ring on her, just them in a tiny ceremony.

Only Chucho with them.

They never liked the big celebrations, just them was enough.

“Scootch back and lay down, cariño.” He said, helping her to move back on the bed, making it easier for both of them.

That growing stomach of hers had made it just a little harder to do all this, but they found a way.

She hummed when he kissed down the insides of her thighs, occasionally biting her while his hands kept them spread for him.

Her hand in his hair tugged weakly on his dark locks, making him hum in return.

“So fucking pretty.” He murmured, right before finding her middle, tongue twisting around her clit, seeing how her back arched off the bed, her fingers curling tighter into his hair. “So fucking sensitive, cariño.”

Licking a broad stripe up her folds, he focused solely on her clit, tongue flicking over it before he sucked on it, making her moan and whimper.

“Javi, fuck, that feels good, baby.” She whined loudly, writhing on the bed already, one hand twisted in the sheets while the other still gripped his hair tightly.

She wished she could watch him, watch his face as he ate her out. He always looked so pretty when he did.

So she closed her eyes and imagined his staring up at hers, brows furrowed in concentration. The wet sounds growing louder, mingling with her moans.

Her hips bucked against his mouth and he laid one of his hands on her hip to keep her still, the other finding her wet entrance, two fingers teasing her and making her whine.

“Oh- Baby, please, fuck me with your fingers, please.” She rushed out, trying to inch closer to him but he kept teasing her, letting them glide over her aching hole but not pushing inside. “You’re a mean man, Javi.”

He hummed against her, the vibrations running up her spine and pushed his fingers in, taking her by surprise.

She clenched around him, moaning loudly and throwing her head back as he slowly started pumping in and out of her, fingers curling against that spongy sweet spot inside of her.

“That’s my girl.” He mumbled, grabbing her hip harder as he continued to lick and suck at her clit. “Sweet pussy gripping me so tight, nena.”

Her orgasm was building rapidly, feeling so sensitive as he touched all the right spots.

A different, unfamiliar sensation built alongside it, faster and faster as she writhed below him, whines growing louder.

“Baby- I’m gonna-” She choked out, unable to finish her sentence as her orgasm crashed into her so suddenly and so violently that she couldn’t even make more sounds.

Then she felt it, a warm, wet gush, her hand in his hair managing to tug him away as he kept pumping his fingers, fucking her through her orgasm as she soaked his shirt.

He just looked stunned. This was the first time this had ever happened and seeing her body tremble, legs shaking and her thighs and the sheets wet…

Could he possibly be more in love and crazy for her?

“‘M sorry, Javier.” She gasped out when he removed his fingers once she had calmed down again, breathing hard. “I don’t know-”

“Stop.” He cut her off, rising to his feet so he could crawl over her. “That was fucking hot, cariño.”

His eyes were hungry when he looked down at her, lips crashing into hers.

His moustache was wet, as was his chin and she could taste herself on him when he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

She could practically feel how excited he was, not that he ever wasn’t, but all the shame she might have felt at what she did was melting away as he kissed her so roughly and passionately, his hands moving to push down the straps of her dress.

Quickly his fingers unclasped her bra and she helped him take it off, groaning when his rough hands cupped her sensitive breasts.

“God, I love you pregnant.” He said, kissing down her neck to her chest.

She giggled, the sound broken by a gasp when his mouth closed around one nipple.

“Just ‘cause my tits get bigger?”

Javier had to laugh at that. “Exactly, and you’re fucking sexy like this.”

She rolled her eyes, moaning again when his tongue curled around her nipple, back arching into him.

“Can you finally fuck me?” She asked, hands in his hair. “Please, baby, it hurts.”

He sat up, taking off his soaked shirt and throwing it to the side, revealing his toned chest and soft stomach.

“Hurts for me, nena?” He said, brow raised as his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle. “Gonna need my dick to help you feel better?”

She nodded, biting her lip as she watched him take off his jeans, then his underwear, his hard cock springing free.

“Say it.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, trying to coax him closer.

“Need your cock in my aching pussy, Javi. Want you to fuck me.”

His hands wandered to her dress, still bunched around her hips and pulled it off of her.

“My pretty little wife.” He chuckled, lining himself up with her, her legs draped over his hips. “You sound so sweet, you’re always so good to me.”

Slowly he pushed in, watching for her reactions as he pushed in deeper, until he was settled all the way.

She moaned, eyes closing and her hands reaching for his thighs, needing to hold onto him in some way.

“Feels good?” He asked, running his hands over her legs, then placed them over hers.

A low hum left her and she nodded. “Move, baby. Wanna feel you.”

Javier obliged almost immediately, rolling his hips slowly, pulling out before pushing himself all the way in again.

Dragging low moans from her, short gasps and pants.

Watching her face contort in pleasure when one of her hands left his leg to squeeze her own breast.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, cariño.” He groaned, feeling her clench around him. “My dirty, little wife.”

A new orgasm built rapidly, his dick hitting all the right places inside of her, his groans and moans only helping the waves of pleasure grow.

She opened her eyes to look at him, watching his muscles flex as he slammed his hips against hers, when he lifted her legs to lay them against his shoulders, changing the angle and moving faster.

“Oh- Javi, fuck!” She gasped, feeling herself so close already as he kept fucking her. “You feel so good!”

“I know, nena.” He rasped, his eyes moving back and forth between her face and her bouncing breasts. “Be a good girl for me and let go, yeah? Wanna feel that pussy all tight, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, cariño.”

Just a few more thrusts, looking at his face, teeth bared and brows furrowed, her second orgasm crashed into her, making her tense up and moan his name, squeezing him so tightly he had to stop for a moment.

“Just like that, nena, yes.” He breathed out, picking up his speed as he fucked her through it, rhythm faltering. “That’s my girl, fuck-”

His hips pressed into her, a guttural groan ripped from him as he came, fingers curling into her thighs.

“So fucking pretty with your belly, fuck- Gotta give you more.”

She barely understood his rambling over the blood rushing in her ears, struggling to breathe as she still felt the pleasure running through her.

But something about it was just incredibly hot.

He let her legs down gently before pulling out carefully, spreading her legs to watch his cum leak out of her.

She felt hot under his gaze and watched as he used his fingers to push it back into her, making her groan and roll her eyes.

“Javi, I am already pregnant.” She said, watching his face closely.

He hummed in response, still pushing more back into her.

“Just gotta make sure.” He said, hearing her laugh at that. “Love seeing my cum inside you, cariño, you know that.”

“Just gotta make sure…” She mumbled under her breath with a chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

Happy with what he’d done, he leaned forward to kiss her belly before leaning over her again, putting his fingers to her mouth.

“Open.”

She did, sucking his fingers into her mouth and humming at the salty taste, both of them together.

When he pulled them out again, he kissed her, soft and tender now, his hand smoothing over her belly.

“We do make good stuffing.” She said, trying not to laugh but feeling herself unable to when he started grinning.

He laughed too, loving her laugh and kissing her forehead.

“We do, and I’ll make sure there’s more where that came from.” He said, eyes twinkling.

“Not tomorrow.” She warned.

He kissed her cheek.

“I won’t have to mention it, everyone can already see how well I stuffed you.”

That earned him a playful swat on the arm, pushing him off of her with a laugh.

Yeah, she really loved this Javier.

And she could imagine letting him stuff her just once or twice more.

He was pretty good at this, after all.

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actuallysaiyan · 1 month

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Send Me An Angel(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi)

warnings: smut, exhibitionist, oral sex(both fem and male receiving), drinking, smoking, drugs, candaulism, panty/pussy sniffing, creampie finish/unprotected sex, swearing, nipple play, pervertedness, pet names, just lots of lewd themes, threesomes word count: 4.6k!!! pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi summary: you meet Hiromi at the bar, and you two bond over your love of 80s music. Despite Kento being a protective husband, he always wants to see you happy...even if it means to fuck you in front of the loser lawyer a/n: HERE IT IS!!! Omg I have been dreaming and planning and thinking about this fic FOREVER!!!!! I want to give a very special shoutout to both @beneathstarryskies and @seireiteihellbutterflyfor helping me out with this beauty! taglist: @sparklynightm4re, @buttercupbitches(sorry tried to tag you but Tumblr won't let me!)

You sit at the bar, drink in hand. Your head starts bobbing to the music, and you instantly recognize the song. A presence sits near you, someone of average build and average height. You look over at them, your smile spreading on your face. He smiles shyly at you and then orders a drink from the bartender. After he receives his drink and pays, he then scoots a little closer to you.

"I love this song," he comments, looking at you curiously. You smile, "Me too! Nobody likes the classics anymore!"

There's a sudden chemistry between you and the man with the long nose. His tired eyes remind you of someone very dear to you. Between sips of your cocktails, you and the man you've come to know as Hiromi become acquainted. You two are deep in your conversation about post-punk music and synthpop when you feel a familiar presence near you.

His strong arms wrap around you, his head resting on your shoulder before he leans in to kiss your cheek brazenly in front of Hiromi. The lawyer's eyes widen as he gets a good look at the salaryman who's making his presence quite known.

"And who's this, darling?" His voice is deep and gravelly, almost filled with a need. You giggle, "This is my new friend. Hiromi Higuruma. He's a lawyer."

Kento's eyes narrow at the man sitting very close to you. He's not sure he likes the way Hiromi is looking at you, and he's certainly sure he doesn't like the way you and he keep giggling and talking like you've been friends for years.

"Higuruma-san, was it?" Kento asks, extending his hand out to Hiromi. "Nanami Kento." Hiromi shakes his hand, "A pleasure to meet you. This must be your pretty girlfriend." "Wife." Kento corrects watchfully. "Wife, hm? Lucky guy, you are."

Hiromi is beginning to sense he's no longer wanted, but you extend your hand to grab onto his wrist. Kento watches you carefully, but he thinks he understands what's going on now. When Hiromi faces you, you're pouting.

"Wait, you're not going to leave, right? I thought we were having a nice conversation, Hiromi." He smiles, looking down at his drink, "Well, I guess I can stay. That alright with you, Nanami-san?" Kento's eyes dart towards the tired lawyer, "As long as you keep your hands to yourself."

This causes you to playfully slap Kento's chest. You chastise him for chasing away so many people this way, but Kento can't help it if he wants to keep you locked away from the world. If it were up to him, he'd keep you at home at all times of the day and the night. It's always you who insists on going out and socializing with others.

You and Hiromi begin discussing the song that's playing, which puts Kento's mind at ease. Despite the spectacle he had seen earlier of you and Hiromi chatting and flirting like a pair of high school reunion lovebirds, Kento knows that you're just being kind. Sure, you flirt from time to time, but Kento knows that when he goes home, you're the one coming with him and only him. He's the one who's going to have your face down in the pillows, begging for a break from the violent pounding he'll give you.

"So you like 80s music then, Higuruma-san?" Kento asks, taking his pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket. He places one between your lips and then one between his before he procures a lighter to light them both.

Hiromi watches enviously as Kento pulls you closer, the tips of your cigarettes almost touching. The scene was sensual in its own right; images of fiery kisses are evoked from the sight of Kento lighting both of your cigarettes at once.

Hiromi clears his throat, grabbing his drink to wet his mouth. Then he turns to see you awaiting his reply so eagerly.

"Yes, I love 80s music." He finally concludes. Kento smirks at him, "Funny, so does my wife. No wonder she took a liking to you."

Hiromi smiles nervously. He knows the kind of game Kento is playing at, but it's you he can't really read. Despite your drop-dead gorgeous husband right by your side, you continue to flirt and be eager to talk to Hiromi. If you were trying to get him killed, then he wouldn't be surprised at all.

You and Kento smoke your cigarettes, enjoying a conversation that's just between the two of you. Hiromi can't help but listen in; something about what you'll be having for dinner tomorrow night, and something about having to pick up Kento's dry cleaning tomorrow morning.

Hiromi blanks out for a few moments. His mind is filled with a sweet wife of his own. The kind of girl that he would be proud to bring home to his parents. In his mind, he sees such a sweet face and such a loving smile. The voice that comes from those lips is like warm, dripping honey. Hiromi is enjoying his little fantasy so much, it takes something else to pull him out of the thought.

"Hiromi," you coo softly. "You okay?"

Hiromi smiles sheepishly, looking down at his hand holding his drink. He downs the rest of it within seconds, hoping it'll soothe his nerves. Kento continues to watch him from his position behind you. He looks like he'd snap Hiromi's neck with ease if given the chance.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright. Just thinking."

You giggle softly. Kento grumbles in your ear, a soft warning to you. But he knows what your plan is, and he's not very fond of where this is going. Despite this, he'll more than likely entertain your idea.

"Are you imagining my wife in your little fantasies?" Kento asks, his eyes dark. Hiromi blushes, "Come on…don't say that. She's a fine lady, but she's yours." Kento smirks, "Oh? Is she not good enough for you?"

You slap Kento's chest playfully again, telling him to quit it. This is when Kento cups your cheek, planting a passionate kiss on those pretty, plump lips of yours. Hiromi would be lying if he said that just watching you two kiss didn't turn him on.

"That's enough! Don't embarrass me in front of my new friend," you whine and pout.

Kento chuckles darkly, moving some hair from your neck to place a kiss there too. Hiromi swallows hard, wishing he had another drink to keep him occupied. He's not even really sure where to look, but he knows he wants to keep looking at you. You, this ethereal being, that's just popped into his life. Something bright and beautiful to take the edge off the tiring monotony of his life.

"I think it's time we head home," Kento whispers in your ear. You nod, "Yes, I suppose it's time."

Kento heads over to the bartender to pay off your tab. You know he'll probably pay off Hiromi's tab as a way to show that he's the breadwinner in your relationship. While he's busy doing that, you find a pen and a pad of paper in your purse. You jot down your number, handing it to Hiromi. He looks at you like you've just signed his death wish. Your fingers brush against each other as you pass him the little piece of paper.

"Text me sometime, yeah? We can continue our conversation."

And with that, you're leaving with Kento. Hiromi gets one last glance at you as Kento slips his jacket onto your shoulders. And within a blink of his eyes, you two have disappeared out the door.

The night air feels so good on your skin. It's almost sobering you up. You lean against Kento, and he keeps a tight hold on your waist. You two walk in sync, your home only a few blocks away from your favorite bar. Kento lights up another cigarette; this one's for you to share.

"So, what do you think?" You ask him, looking up at him. Kento scoffs, "What? Him? You can't be serious, darling."

This causes you to pout and you know pouting is Kento's kryptonite. He's groaning as he watches you smoke the cigarette solemnly. You're just too precious to say no to.

"He's perfect! Just the type of guy I was looking for." You confess. "Him? He's just some pussywhipped loser. You can do better than that. He wouldn't even have the guts to ask you to fuck him." You giggle before passing the cigarette back to your husband. "That's the thing…" Kento cocks an eyebrow, "What is it this time?" "I don't want him to fuck me. I want him to watch us fuck."

Kento isn't that surprised, but his cock twitches to life. It's the thought of putting that damn loser in his place while he fucks you properly. That Higuruma-san probably hasn't fucked many women in his life. He's probably the type to pop within seconds of being in a hot, tight pussy.

"If you're sure about this," Kento starts. "I think it could be a little cruel to have such passionate sex in front of a man who looks like he hasn't gotten laid in years."

Your eyes widen. Did Hiromi really seem that pathetic in Kento's eyes? Something about this was turning you on in a way you couldn't quite describe. It was like you were the perfect trophy wife to be shown off. The kind of woman that most men have intense sexual fantasies about.

"Well, I gave him my number. Maybe he'll text me,"

But neither of you is truly convinced that Hiromi will come through with texting you. He's probably going to head home himself and fall asleep in his clothes like he does most nights. You begin to hope and pray that Hiromi would have the balls to actually contact you.

It's only when you and Kento are in front of the warm fireplace, snuggled on the white fur rug that your phone vibrates. You and Kento share excited glances. The more he thought about it, the more he found himself excited about the prospect of fucking his gorgeous wife in front of such a loser.

"It's him!" You giggle like an excited schoolgirl. "Answer him. Get him here now."

Hiromi's text is a pretty drunken one. He babbles about needing a place to crash, so you quickly give him the coordinates to Kento's penthouse suite. Then you and your husband wait with excitement flowing through your veins.

It's only about fifteen minutes later that you hear the buzzer. Kento goes to answer and grants entrance to your private home to the lawyer. Your heart is pounding your chest as the reality of the situation is finally dawning on you. This was actually going to happen. Your panties were a little wet already from your arousal.

There's a gentle knock on the door and you fling it open. Hiromi looks a bit disheveled and he smells like booze. You grab his wrist gently and you pull him into the penthouse. He looks around, his eyes widening at the luxury of your home.

"You found our place okay? You're doing alright?" you ask, wrapping your arm around his shoulder to lead him into the living room. Hiromi moans, "Yeah, I'm alright. Could use some water."

You help guide him to the couch, and you sit yourself right next to him. Your knees are touching. Kento comes in from the kitchen, a bottle of mineral water handed to the long-nosed man.

"Ahh, thank you." Hiromi slurs, opening the bottle and taking very greedy gulps of it. "Slow down, sweetie."

Your term of endearment nearly makes him spit out the water. He focuses on swallowing, then he turns to you. He's carefully assessing the situation. Shivers run down his spine when you begin to rub his thigh.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Hiromi questions, his cock twitching in his pants. "Nothing, just having a little fun. You like to have fun right?" You ask, a mischievous look in your eyes.

Kento then sits on the other side of Hiromi. Suddenly the lawyer feels very boxed in. If he wasn't completely sauced off his ass, he'd probably make a beeline for the door. But your soft touches and sweet perfume seem to soothe him more than he'd like to admit.

"I saw how you were looking at my wife," Kento begins. Hiromi throws his hands up in the air in defense, "Hey, come on. She's smoking hot. Can you blame me?" You caress his cheek, "Shhh…it's okay, Hiromi honey."

He shudders at your sweet touches. His cock grows harder the more you're teasing him. Kento keeps a watchful eye on both of you, but he's letting you have your fun.

"Let's lay down some ground rules," Kento finally pipes up. Hiromi looks over at your husband, "R-rules?" You nod, "Yeah if you want to have a little fun with us, Hiromi honey, you need to accept our rules."

And without warning, you reach over to squeeze his hard cock through his pants. His eyes shut and he lets out a pathetic moan. He has to focus on not cumming in his pants.

"Rule number one, we're calling the shots here. You have to listen to what we say and do what we tell you to do," Kento's voice sounds a million miles away as you continue to palm at Hiromi's cock. Hiromi nods his head, "G-got it." "Rule number two, we've got a safeword! It's bread, and if at any point any of us want to opt out, we can say this word. This includes you, Hiromi honey."

Hiromi moans, nodding his head once more. Kento taps his cheek, and the lawyer's eyes snap open. Kento asks for confirmation that he heard you, and Hiromi confirms.

"Rule number three consists of one thing. We can touch you as much as we want, but you are to always ask permission to touch either of us." Hiromi whines, "Fine, fine. That's fine with me."

You begin to unzip his pants and unbuckle his belt to give him a little more relief. His hips buck up involuntarily to the stimulation you're providing. Hiromi's head leans back against the cool leather of the sofa. You gently graze your nails against his cheek before you pull him in for a kiss.

"Rule number four," you whisper on his lips. "Is that we all have fun."

Kento watches as you kiss the pathetic man who sits right next to him. He knows that he'll be fucking your brains out sooner rather than later, but he's growing impatient watching you play with your latest prey. It takes no time before you pull down the straps of your dress and you're straddling Hiromi's lap.

Kento helps you pull down your dress, exposing your breasts to both men. The black-haired man groans as your nipples are so close to his face, and he's wanting to suck on them so bad.

"Don't forget rule three," Kento warns him. "C-can I touch you? C-can I suck on your nipples?"

You nod your head, leaning in closer to let Hiromi have a taste of your soft skin. A sweet moan erupts from your parted lips as his lips wrap around one of your pert nipples. Kento surveils you both, his eyes dark with lust. It's been quite some time since you've picked out a third party for your nightly games.

"Doesn't she taste so sweet?" Kento asks, leaning in to begin kissing your neck. "Fuck yeah," Hiromi moans as he continues suckling on your tits. "Like…strawberries." Kento chuckles, "Just wait til you taste her pussy…well, that is if she lets you."

Hiromi is in a daze. This is all too much. He thinks to himself that even if he can't fuck either of you or even get to touch you more than this, he'll consider this night a success. He's enjoying himself as he sucks and nips at your nipples. Your fingers are carding through his hair.

"How does it feel, darling?" Kento inquires, pressing a kiss to your temple. "So good, baby. He's got such a soft tongue."

After a few minutes, you get off Hiromi's lap. Then you extend your hand out to him, which he gratefully takes after asking you if it's okay. You begin leading him into the master bedroom. Kento's following close behind. Once inside the bedroom, you show Hiromi the comfortable sofa that's in the corner of the room. He sits down on it, noticing the side table is filled with all kinds of paraphernalia. Things ranging from glass pipes used to smoke marijuana, lots of different packs of cigarettes, and condoms of every variety. He even spots some smaller baggies with various pills inside.

"Help yourself to anything you like," you offer to him as you walk over to the expensive-looking stereo system. Some upbeat synthpop music begins to play softly.

Hiromi thanks you, but his eyes dart towards the door. Kento is beginning to undress, and his mouth is growing dry as he admires the man. He's so well-built. His muscles flex as he continues removing more of his clothing. Hiromi has never seen such a specimen of man before. Kento realizes he's being admired.

"So you're into men too, huh?" Hiromi blushes, "Well…uh…yeah, I guess."

You come over to both of them, and you sit on Hiromi's lap. You beckon Kento to come closer, and you begin to unbutton his pants and unbuckle his belt. You can feel Hiromi's erection poking you in the ass. Moving your hips to the rhythm of the song, you feel him twitching and throbbing with every move you make.

"She's a little temptress, hm?" Kento questions. "Mmm y-yeah, she sure is."

You continue to grind down against him, finally helping Kento out of his pants. He's only in his boxer briefs now, his cock straining against the material. Then you look up at him, begging him to take the lead on the next part of this.

He gathers you up in his arms, kissing you longingly and sloppily. Your tongues wrestle together, swapping spit together in such a lewd manner that Hiromi just cannot tear his eyes away from you both. He's going to enjoy watching you two make love.

Kento places you on the bed, his calloused hands rubbing and caressing all your erogenous zones. You moan softly as his fingers pinch and pull on your sensitive nipples. Then his head dips down to capture one of them into his mouth as his hands continue to undress you. Once your dress is pulled off, he turns to face the lawyer sitting in the corner.

"Wanna come see if she smells as good as she tastes?" Kento goads him on.

Within seconds, Hiromi is up and off the sofa and he's on his hands and knees at the foot of the large bed. Kento spreads your legs, showing the wet patch on your pretty little panties. Hiromi is practically salivating as he begins to get closer.

You shudder as Kento pulls your panties off so slowly, exposing you to the lawyer who is ready to worship you both body and soul. Then he turns to face Hiromi and he gives the man your soiled panties.

"Have those, she's got lots more."

The black-haired man holds the soiled material to his nose and takes a greedy inhale. He shudders at the sweet and musky scent of your arousal. His tongue darts out pathetically to lick up a bit of the nectar.

"Look at him," Kento draws your attention towards Hiromi. "Pussywhipped loser."

Something about watching the way Hiromi is licking your panties really drives you wild. With your pussy exposed, Kento begins teasing your clit with slow circles. You buck up to meet his hand, which earns you a scoff from your beautiful blond lover. When your eyes meet, you can see the warning in them to be a bit more patient.

Without warning, Hiromi brings himself closer to your pussy and his face is inches away from it. His pupils have all but turned into hearts when he looks at your cute little cunt. He's just about to lean in when Kento pushes him off the bed.

"Did you forget rule three already?! You can't just do whatever you want." Kento growls.

Hiromi apologizes profusely, his heart racing. The thought of Kento hurting him to lay claim to you is turning him on. Maybe he is just a pathetic, desperate sex fiend. A pervert who hasn't gotten laid in so long. He sits up on his knees, watching you both.

"You wanna know what it's like to not have to ask for permission? Watch closely,"

With those words, Kento sinks himself into your dribbling hole. You cry out, clinging to your husband. He begins drilling himself into you, making you moan just for him. Hiromi's eyes widen, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

"You like that, huh? Fucking loser, you love watching my wife take my cock, don't you?"

Kento's words are hitting him hard. Hiromi has to begin palming himself through his slacks, the precum making a stain in his boxers. You look at the lawyer, moaning loudly as Kento keeps hitting your sweet spot dead on. Hiromi brings your panties to his nose as he begins to unbuckle his belt and take his leaking cock out of his boxers.

"Look at him," Kento goads, "look how much he's so desperate."

Your eyes are practically rolled back in your skull, and anyone can see you're much too preoccupied with the pleasure to even think about looking at the desperate man who is now jerking off at the edge of your bed. Kento chuckles darkly.

"See that? That's what a woman in the throes of pleasure looks like. Something I'm sure you've barely ever seen in your life."

Hiromi grunts as he picks up the pace of stroking his cock. His fist is a blur as he jerks himself off; your panties are still pressed to his nose. Your sweet moans and cries of love make his cock dribble out even more precum.

"K-Ken…I'm gonna cum!"

Kento growls sensually before picking up his own pace. He's slamming into you, making sure to angle his hips so that the tip of his cock continues to ram against that sweet spot deep inside of you that makes you see stars. Waves of electricity course through your body, making the muscles in your groin begin to tense as your orgasm builds more and more. The flame in your belly is burning hot, and the coil snaps. Your nails dig into the muscles of his back, and your plump lips part to cry out his name.

"Fuck, she's milking my cock so good!" Kento grunts, his own orgasm imminent.

Hiromi feels his balls drawing up fast, and he can't keep his eyes off the lewd scene in front of him. He moans as he fucks his fist a little faster, squeezing as if it was your pussy milking him as well. Then with a loud grunt, he's cumming so hard. Spurts of his cum begin to shoot out and cover his fist and the edge of the bed.

"Hah, I knew you'd blow your load first!" Kento brags. "I could keep going, but I suppose I shouldn't overstimulate my wife too much. I think she's had too much excitement for one night,"

Hiromi is slack-jawed as he watches Kento plow himself into you. His cock throbs with every thrust, and Hiromi has the front-row seat to watch as the man fucking your brains out is about to cum. The long-nosed man is very mesmerized by the blond's movements.

"Shit, such a fucking good pussy! Fuck I'm gonna cum!" Kento cries out. "Watch Hiromi-san, this is how you breed a pretty little wife!"

With a loud roar, Kento's hips stutter as the pleasure hits him hard. Shot after shot of his potent and sticky cum begins to fill your pussy. You whine from the overstimulation, but he's quick to hush you with sweet words of praise and love. Then slowly, he settles onto your tits and begins sucking on them.

"Hiromi honey," you call out to the lawyer. He looks up at you, a blush on his cheeks. "Yeah?" You smirk, "Come here, honey."

Hiromi crawls onto the bed. Kento pulls out, and both men watch as the cum begins to leak out of your abused hole. The lawyer is salivating at the sight of your puffy cunt. Kento beckons him closer, spreading your thighs a little bit.

"Have a taste," Kento instructs. "You've been a pretty good boy. I think you deserve it. But…" Hiromi looks up at him, "But what?" "You've got to clean us both up. Not just her, you better be sucking me cleaning too."

Hiromi feels his cock springing back to life at the chance to taste you both. First, he leans in to take a big whiff of your pussy. It's taken on a more musky scent with Kento's seed mixing in, but it's definitely still making him dizzy. He tentatively licks your folds before moaning. He's in heaven as he begins to lap at you like you are his last meal.

"Heh, you still think she tastes like strawberries?" Kento asks him.

Hiromi looks up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust. He moans his response, not caring that Kento's seed is mixing with your arousal. To the lawyer, you both taste so heavenly. A flavor he doesn't want to soon forget.

Kento reaches over, gripping Hiromi's black hair. He pulls him away from your oversensitive cunt, and he pushes him towards his half-hard leaking cock. Hiromi is quick to open his mouth, savoring the taste of your pussy on Kento's cock. The black-haired man moans as he begins to take even more of your husband's dick in his mouth.

"Fuck, darling…do you see just how much of a pervert he is?"

With that, Kento pushes him off and lets you all catch your breath. You watch through half-lidded eyes as your husband dons his favorite robe and heads into the kitchen. Hiromi stays put on the ground, unsure of what to do. You pat the spot next to you, and he sits near you.

"Hiromi honey, did you enjoy yourself?" you turn around and grab the sheet to cover your body.

He finds it adorable that you're choosing to be more modest right now. The vulnerability in that one little move really makes his chest feel warm. Suddenly he feels like he's actually looking into your private life.

Kento returns with a few bottles of mineral water for all of you. He also has a warm washcloth for you and Hiromi. Hiromi blushes as he turns away from both of you and cleans off his cock and his hands. Kento sits on the bed and wipes up the cum from your puffy, red pussy.

Once everyone is decent and cleaned up, you all take a moment to drink the water. Kento lights up a cigarette and as a sign of good faith, he hands one to the lawyer who gratefully accepts it. You three sit on the bed with the window cracked open, smoking your cigarettes.

"Still need a place to crash?" Kento asks Hiromi. "Yeah, I'd love that."

You lean back against the pillows, beckoning the lawyer over. He strips down to his boxers and he crawls under the covers. There's a warmth that comes from you as you wrap your arms around him and allow him to snuggle against your breasts. What surprises Hiromi is when Kento settles behind the man and wraps a protective arm around him.

"Sleep tight," you coo softly. "Love you, Ken." "Love you too, sweetie. Sleep well."

And the three of you fall into a deep sleep…

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lacroixwh0r3 · 9 months

Text

The First Taste

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You meet Joel, your dad's best friend, for the first time after your dad begged you to join them at the lake to keep Sarah company. Both you and Joel become fascinated by each other the moment the two of you met.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON, heavy sexual tension, drug usage (weed only), petnames, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), fingering, voyerism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, swimming??, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): The First Taste by Fiona Apple

PART 2 PART 3

A/N: This takes place four years before Blow My Load, but can be read as a standalone.

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy lovies! <33

"Dad, I thought it was supposed to be a "boy's trip," and the last time I checked, I am not a boy." You point at your body as you tell your dad. For some reason, he is begging you to come to the lake with him and his friends the day before they leave. "Why won't you just tell me why you want me to go? And maybe I'll give you an answer."

You finally got him to crack.

Your dad let out a defeated sigh as he scratched the back of his head and avoided eye contact. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever bullshit your dad was about to say. "Well, you see, honey, one of the guys couldn't get a babysitter for his kid, and I offered you to keep her company." He winced.

And there it is. The thing he was holding back from you

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. You really couldn't believe this shit. "Are you serious, dad? I refuse to babysit some random kid because you offered me up without even asking me first!" You exclaimed at him. "I don't even know a damn thing about this kid."

"Look, I know it was wrong for me to do that, sweetheart, but I swear Sarah is a good kid. Most of the time she has her headphones in and minds her business." He tries to reason with you, almost pleading with you. You began to feel bad for blowing up on him like that, but it really did piss you off that you had to watch someone else's kid. "I'll even pay you."

This weekend, you planned on doing nothing but self-care. You wanted to do nothing but stay home, watch movies, get a mani and pedi, go get a massage, drink, and maybe even play with the new toy you just bought yourself at Spencers.

You feel yourself giving into your dad; it wasn't the money that made you say yes, but the fact that he always found a way to make you feel bad, even if he didn't mean to do it. "Ugh, fine!" You scoff as you turn to look away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see his body perk up.

Your dad lets out a sigh of relief, saying, "Thank you so much, sweetheart! You're such a lifesaver; you know that, right?" He slaps your shoulder playfully, causing you to shrug it off and narrow your eyes at him playfully as well.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. How old is your friend's daughter, anyway?" You asked him, unfazed by it all.

"I think she's around 14?" Your dad said cluelessly. "Not too bad, right? I'm sure that you can find something to talk about with her."

It wasn't that bad, but what the fuck would you, a 21-year-old, have in common with a 14–15-year-old girl?

"I guess. I'm gonna start getting my stuff all packed up," You tell him as you turn around to go up to your room.

"Alright, sweetheart, and thanks again!" He exclaims to you as you make your way farther up the steps.

"Yup!" You yell it out dismissively.

As much as you hated the circumstances, you were happy you were finally able to get away for a little bit.

...

It was the next day, and you were tired as hell after only getting four hours of sleep. You had spent all night packing and stressing about what you were going to wear. It wasn't like you were trying to impress anyone, but this was your first time meeting your dad's friends, and you wanted to look decent.

You had left it up to your dad to pack your things into the car as you were too tired to do anything besides shower, put your clothes on, and lay back down for a little until it was time to go. As you lay face down on the bed, knocked out, you heard your dad knock on the door. "Hey, kiddo, are you ready to head out?" He asked you as he stood at the door.

You slowly sit up on your bed as you yawn and stretch your arms over your head. "Yeah, let me just get up and grab my purse and stuff."

"Got it." Your dad says this before turning around and making his way downstairs.

After moments of sitting on your bed, stairing into space, you got up, grabbed your purse, and began to leave your room. However, on your way to the door, you see the pouch that contained your weed and weed paraphernalia. You hesitantly swiped it from your dresser, dropped it into your bag, and went downstairs.

If the men got to have their fun, why couldn't you?

Once you get to the last step, you hear your dad saying bye to someone on the phone before turning to you. "My buddy, Joel, just got to the lake house, so we should start headin' out." He says this as he grabs his keys and motions for you to follow him to the door.

After making sure the security alarm was set and locking the door, the two of you were finally on your two-hour journey to the lake house.

...

You and your dad finally made it to the lake house. It was a three story house that sat on top of a hill, surrounded by nothing but trees.

You and your dad hop out of the car and start bringing your bags to the front door. All of a sudden, the moment you sat the last bag down and brought your fist up to knock at the door, it swung open, revealing a man who looked to be in his early 30s with short, dark, curly hair.

Beside him was a woman with long locs, smiling warmly at you. Meanwhile, the man looked at you with confusion, trying to piece together who you were. You looked familiar to him, but he couldn't put a name to your face.

"Tommy!" Your dad said loudly behind you. You could hear the excitement in his voice as he greeted him. Tommy's eyes moved to look behind you at your dad, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh man, y'all come on in!" He opened the door wider as he and the unnamed woman moved out of the way to allow you to walk in first, followed by your dad. "I'll grab the rest of the bags out there." Tommy says.

Tommy brought the bags in as your dad greeted the lady. "Hey, Maria!" He asked her as he gave her a side hug. "I didn't know you were gonna be joining us this weekend as well."

So that was her name.

"I didn't think I was going to be joining either. Tommy invited me last minute, so I just decided to take some time off of work," She replies back.

They stood near the entrance as they began to get deeper into the conversation, talking about God knows what, leaving you standing there awkwardly as you watched them. You decided to take that moment to observe the room. Even though the house was spacious, it still had a cozy feel to it.

As you were in your own world, your dad gently slapped his hand on your shoulder unexpectedly. "And this young lady right here is my daughter." He smiles at the two as Maria and Tommy turn their attention to you.

"Nice to meet you, kid," He says as he offers his hand to shake yours, which you accept. You shake hands with him before dropping them to your side. Tommy then points to Maria. "This is my wife, Maria."

You shake hands with her as well while you tell them your name. "It's so great to meet you two!" You beam at the couple.

They begin to ask you a series of questions about yourself, such as what university you attended, what your major was, and so on, to which you gladly answer.

However, in the midst of your conversation, your words are abruptly interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening, followed by heavy footsteps. "And here comes my asshole brother, Joel, and my niece, Sarah," Tommy says to you, prompting both you and your dad to look behind you. You can hear Maria let out a loud laugh at Tommy's words.

Your eyes immediately focused on him as he got closer to you, not even paying attention to the fact that his daughter was right behind him as well.

The man named Joel had short, dark, curly hair like Tommy’s; the only difference is that he is a lot shorter, and the roots of his hair were slightly gray at his temples. Joel also had a patchy beard with a thick mustache. He has this rugged and mysterious look to him that completely enraptures you.

He and your dad greet each other, giving a quick bro hug and pulling away. Joel then turns to you, and you feel your hands quiver. His dark, dominant eyes intensify the intimidating aura that surrounds him, yet it still makes him even more interesting to you.

Holy hell, you think to yourself. This man is so fucking fine.

You continued to stare at Joel, saying absolutely nothing, until you realized that he was giving you a confused look as if he were waiting for something. Your eyes darted down, and you realized that he had his hand out, waiting for you to shake it. You felt your face heat up with embarrassment as you went to shake his hand.

"Joel," was all he said as the two of you shook hands before he let go and discreetly rubbed his hands into his shirt. You could feel yourself shrink with embarrassment as he did this. Not only did he not even give you a chance to introduce yourself, but he wiped his hands after shaking yours.

What a fucking jerk! Tommy was right; he is an asshole.

You quickly snapped out of your feelings when you realized that Sarah was now in front of you. She wore a pink crop top and jean shorts, while her curly hair was placed in a low ponytail.

She suddenly brings you in for a hug with a massive smile on her face, catching you off guard. Nonetheless, you still happily return the hug.

"I'm Sarah. It's nice to meet you!" Unlike Joel, Sarah was a lot more friendly with you. She had this radiant energy to her that made you wonder where she got it from because it definitely wasn't from Joel's grumpy ass. You tell her your name.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Sarah!" I return a smile back to her. She seems like the sweetest 14-year-old you've ever met. "I think we're gonna get along just fine this weekend."

"We sure are!"" She agrees.

"Sarah, sweetheart, how've you been?" Your dad asked her.

As your dad began to talk to Sarah, you decided to check Joel out while he listened to the conversation, occasionally putting in his two cents. Unlike the rest of the group, Joel wore a dark gray shirt, jeans, and some boots.

How is he not hot?

I mean, he is hot, but I meant temperature-wise, you think, causing yourself to let out a low chuckle.

You guess you said that out loud because Joel’s head, along with Maria's, Sarah's, and Tommy's, suddenly snapped over to you with eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Your dad's voice slowly began to fade when he saw the mortified expression on Sarah's face.

"Wait, what happened?" Your dad asked cluelessly as he looked around the group. He was so in his own world that he didn't hear what you said. Thank-fucking-goodness. "Everyone just stopped talking all of a sudden."

"Nothing!" You quickly tell him as you give him a disengenious smile before looking at everyone else. Sarah looked embarrassed for you, as Tommy and Maria still looked shocked. You get a glimpse of Joel as you wince in embarrassment and close your eyes; he had this smug look on his face.

You gathered that Tommy obviously loves to fuck around with people because he let out a stifled laugh, causing his wife to slap his arm and tell him to shut up.

You just wanted to die right then and there. This is now the second time today you've embarrassed yourself in front of this sexy ass man.

Your dad, being the clueless person he is, continues on with whatever he is talking about, not even realizing that no one is paying attention to him. Maria interrupts your dad as she clears her throat to catch your attention. She had a sympathetic look on her face. "Sweetie, your room is on the second floor next to, uh, Joel's, if you wanna get settled in," She offered to you. "We're going to head out to the lake and start putting some things on the grill around 2 or so." You just nodded your head because you were too afraid to speak.

"Hey, Joel?" Tommy looked at his brother with a teasing look on his face. "Why don't you go show her to her room, yeah?" He nods his head in the direction of the staircase.

You wished that you could just punch Tommy across the face at this very moment.

"Umm yeah..." Joel agrees slowly as he gives Tommy a dirty look before glancing at you. "Follow me," You nodded your head and grabbed your purse and other bags. As you followed Joel, the group quietly picked up their conversation again.

Without saying a word to each other, you and Joel arrive in the room. He steps aside, allowing you to enter, and turns around to make his way down the hallway to go back downstairs, but you quickly stopped him before he could get any further. "Hey, I'm sorry about what happened down there." You apologized to him. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or anything."

Joel just turns around and gives you a small smirk. "Oh, darlin', I'm far from uncomfortable. I'm actually flattered...more than flattered as a matter of fact." He winks at you before departing down the hallway, leaving you shocked.

You were somewhat relieved that Joel wasn't disgusted by you, but it still didn't help with your embarrassment as much as you hoped it would.

You scanned the room, taking in the room that you were going to be spending your weekend sleeping in. The walls were painted a light gray. There was a queen-sized bed that looked really comfortable and had bedside tables on each side as well as a TV, which was mounted onto the wall opposite the bed. There was a door that led to a balcony. You could see an overview of the calm lake and the tall trees. It was a beautiful view.

...

It's been a while since you went downstairs with everyone. You were still so embarrassed by the incident this morning that you decided to spend most of your time scrolling through social media and catching up with your college friends. The only time you came out of the room was to go to the bathroom.

You eventually rolled out of bed and worked up the courage to join everyone.

After changing your clothes that you had on earlier and putting on your swim suit, you slipped on your oversized shirt, put on some waterproof mascara, and put on some lip gloss.

You made sure to grab your sunglasses, put on your flip-flops, and jogged down the steps.

Once you got down there, you realized that Maria was in the kitchen. You headed towards her, quickly greeting her. "Hi, Maria," You say while positioning yourself behind the chairs on the island. She was gathering something that she needed to put outside.

"Hey, sweetheart!" Maria happily greets you back with a smile as she turns her attention to you. "How're you feeling?" She asked you gingerly as she looked at you with sympathy. Her goal wasn't to embarrass you; she truly wanted to know if you were okay after earlier.

You felt yourself begin to get flustered. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking." You sheepishly replied. You avoided her eyes, beginning to feel awkward.

"Of course. They're out in the back; you should join them." She points to the sliding door. You just nodded your head and made your way to the door. Before you went out there, you stood there looking outside. You could see Joel's tall figure standing over the grill as he flipped the meat and sipped on his beer.

You felt yourself getting nervous just looking at him.

You then looked and saw your dad helping Joel take the food off the grill and start to place it on the table. Meanwhile, Sarah and Tommy sat at the table, talking to each other. Whatever Tommy had said made them let out loud laughs, causing Joel quickly turned around, let out a chuckle, and shook his head. He then went back to putting things on the rest of the food on the serving platter.

His smile is so gorgeous, it almost takes your breath away.

"Are you going out, sweetheart?" Maria asked behind you, startling you. You had forgotten that she was still here.

You turned to her as you began to stammer over your words and realized that her hands were full with plasticware and plates. "Do you need me to help you take those?" You asked her without even answering her question.

"I do actually," She just looked at you with a questionable look before speaking up again. "Can you just grab the forks and spoons from the top and place them on the table out there, please?" She asked. You grabbed the utensils before turning back around and opening the door.

They didn't notice you at first until Sarah caught sight of you and loudly called out your name as you got closer, causing Joel to look over at you as he closed the grill's top.

"Sarah!" You exclaimed dramatically. Once you reached the table, you sat the plasticware down and went over to sit next to her.

You noticed that her hair was wet and that she was wrapped in a towel. "What've you been up to, girlfriend?" You asked her as you sat down in the seat.

"Nothing much; I just took a quick dip in the lake, and now I am starving," Sarah whined out as she looked over at her dad, who was coming over with the food.

You can hear the sound of Joel's heavy feet approaching behind you and stopping at the free seat at the end of the table, which was next to you. He first put the food in the middle of the table, then plopped himself down. We all began to put things on our plates and begin eating.

Tommy grumbled something about starving, causing Sarah to make a joke about how he was always starving. In reply, Tommy stuck his tongue out at the young girl in a teasing manner.

As Joel ate, he was manspreading under the table. You could feel his hairy, bare leg graze against yours, making you move your leg away. Joel wiped his mouth with the napkin, took a sip of his beer, and looked at you with a blank stare, not saying anything.

You decided to speak up and compliment him on the food. "Joel, this is really good," You smile. Everyone hummed in agreement as they ate.

"Why thank you, darlin'?" Joel says, going back to eating.

...

After eating, we all sat there with our tummies full as we sat around talking about whatever came to mind. That was until Sarah ran into the house without saying a word.

"Oh goodness, that girl." He sat back as he watched his daughter running around the house through the sliding door before running back outside with a box of Uno cards.

"Who wants to play?" She asked the whole table as she ran to her seat and plopped down.

We all agreed. She began to shuffle the cards, dealt them out to everyone, and then set up the game. It first started with you, Joel, Maria, Tommy, then your dad, and lastly Sarah.

Sarah was the first one to get Uno, even though she had the most cards at one point. We all accused her of cheating, which she was quick to deny. No one at the table believed her, especially Tommy and Maria. She just rolled her eyes and helped your dad while he was stuck figuring out which cards to play next.

While the two silently argued about which card was the best, you looked over at Joel and saw that all his cards were showing. You looked around and noticed that no one was paying attention to his cards. Tommy and Maria were sitting there watching your dad and Sarah.

"You're bleedin', Joel," you whisper to him as you point to his card. His face scrunched up with confusion as to what you meant. He looked down at himself and saw no blood.

"What, sugar? I ain't bleedin' anywhere," He said as he tried to recall if he had maybe scraped himself anywhere, but it wasn't coming to him. You couldn't help, but laugh at his confusion.

"It means your cards are showing, Joel." You giggled at him as he chuckled a bit and put his cards up so that he wasn't "bleeding" anymore.

"That's so stupid, who taught you that?" You just shrugged your shoulders at his question and looked back over to see if your dad had finally picked up his card yet.

"Oh my gosh, this isn't rocket science, dad! Just pick a card already!" You exclaimed it, causing everyone to laugh.

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'!" Your dad waved you off as he went back to silently arguing with Sarah about which card to choose.

The game got drawn out longer than it was supposed to because every other minute someone (usually Tommy) would start arguing about another person cheating. And in the end, Tommy lost the game.

We put the cards away as everyone except for Maria decided to hang out by the dock and take a swim. She said something about having to get on the phone with a client of hers, but she would come join us when she was done and would bring popsicles.

You and Sarah walked in front of your dad, Joel, and Tommy until you yelled out, "Beat you there!" to Sarah as you both haphazardly ran down the steps to get to the dock.

"You girls, be careful down those stairs now! Don't want y'all gettin' hurt," Joel yells out from behind. The two of you don't respond or slow down; you just keep giggling and running. Joel had to suppress a smile from appearing on his face. It brought him joy to hear how much fun Sarah was having with you.

Once you make it to the dock, Sarah flings off her towel and jumps into the lake with a squiel before she goes under water and floates back up. You quickly kick off your flip flops, throw your sunglasses down, and take off your shirt. Unlike Sarah, you didn't jump into the water, you sat down on the dock and scooched into the water.

Oh, come on! You should've jumped in!" She says this to you as she splashes you with water. You splashed her back.

"I'm too afraid, Sar-bear!" You yelled out to her, and she gasped. The men appeared from the concrete steps just as she did so. Joel dropped the towels in his arms before walking over in front of us, while your dad and Tommy moved to the other side of the dock with their beers and their folding chairs.

"Dad, can you believe that she's too afraid to jump into the water?" Sarah yells out to her dad.

He looked down at you from the dock with his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Really? It's not that scary, sweetheart," He tells you.

"Then how about you get in, Joel?" You say to him without even thinking.

"Yeah, come on, dad. Get in and show her how it's done!" Sarah yells out as she encourages her dad to get in.

You watched Joel as he took off his shoes and shirt, all while keeping his eyes on you. You couldn't help but suck in a breath and bite your bottom lip when he pulled off his shirt. You got a glimpse of his shirtless chest. Joel wasn't the most muscular man, but whatever his job was, it kept him fit, and you loved it. Your eyes quickly scanned over his neck, then his broad shoulders.

Those damn shoulders of his. You wished you could hold onto them as you rode on his co-

Your thoughts were abruptly shattered when Joel took a big leap into the lake, causing a splash of water to hit your face and go up your nose. You tried to make an attempt at turning your head, but it was too late. You coughed as you tried to clear the water from your lungs. As you do so, Joel comes up from beneath the water.

He gasped as he allowed the air back into his lungs and used his big hands to wipe his face. Once he noticed that you were coughing, he quickly swam over to you with a look of concern.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked you as you let out one last cough and nodded your head. He brought his hand up to stroke the side of your head and gave you this tender look before pulling away when he noticed that Sarah was coming over.

If it were just you and Joel on the lake, he would've probably pulled you into his body and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

Even though he had just gotten into the lake, Joel decided to get out before he did something that he would regret.

"Alright, girls. I'm gonna get out now." He says more to Sarah than to you. Once again, you just nodded your head at him. You knew that if you spoke, you'd embarrass yourself again.

"Wha-Dad! You literally just got in." She tries to convince him, but he just shook his head and grabbed onto the rails. He pulls himself up with a grunt and walks onto the dock.

"I'll get back in in a little bit." He dismissed her as he went to get a towel.

Sarah began to say something to you as she swam around you, but you were too focused on Joel to listen to what she was saying. She was too busy talking to notice that you weren't listening. Your attention was stuck on Joel, and his wet shorts stuck to his surprisingly nice ass. He then turns around as he dries off. Your eyes drifted down and widening when you saw his bulge. You were taken aback by the sight.

Oh my god, you thought to yourself.

You looked back up at his face to realize that Joel was already staring at you and smirking while he wrapped the towl around his waist.

Oh fuck!

He obviously saw you staring at his cock because he was fucking smirking.

Joel walked over to have a seat with his brother and your dad. You diverted your attention back to Sarah, acting as if you knew what she was talking about. You just nodded your head a couple of times, and she believed it, but again, your mind drifted.

You were thinking about her dad; snap out of it for Christ's sake.

For the rest of your time at the lake, you refused to look at Joel. And just as promised, Maria finally joined you all about an hour later with the popsicles she said she would bring. Once we ate them, Maria convinced the other adults to have a swim in the lake, to which they all agreed after some groans and pressure from her and Sarah.

...

After spending most of the afternoon outside, everyone went off to do their own thing. Sarah decided to take a shower and then go to sleep while your dad, Tommy, and Maria opted to go out to a bar that a local had told them about, and Joel refused to go out tonight because he said that he was beat from the lake. As for you, you took a quick shower and decided to watch the sunset on the balcony that was connected to your room and smoke.

Before slipping onto the balcony, you grabbed a preroll and a lighter from the pouch, your headphones, and a water bottle from the bed.

When you first got here, you didn't notice that there was a door connected to the balcony that led to Joel's room. However, the sheer curtains were closed, so you could only assume that he was asleep, meaning it was safe for you to smoke without him seeing you. You sat down on the lounge chair, put your headphones on, turned on some music, and began your session.

After two hits of the preroll, you felt the effects of the weed. Your body began to relax, and your eyelids felt slightly heavy. As you continued smoking, you couldn't escape the thought of Joel. You know that he is your dad's friend, and you would never think to go after him, but you have to admit that he is an attractive older man. Just your type.

You barely spoke to him throughout the couple of hours you had been there, yet you could tell the type of man he was. He is very reserved, doesn't speak unless spoken to, and likes to observe. Joel is respectful, but he didn't take shit from anyone. It was very visible that he was protective of not only Sarah but also Tommy.

Everything about him drew you in more and more.

With a few more hits of your preroll, you see a figure standing in the corner of your eye just a few feet away from you, causing you to quickly pull off your headphones and flick the preroll from your fingers and off the balcony. You look over to see Joel watching you with his eyebrows frowned and his hands on his hips. Your eyes widen with shock.

"Shit! I mean, hey, Joel..." You smile up at him awkwardly, trying to seem as sober as possible. "What are you doing out here?" You asked him in a sickly sweet voice. He continues to stare at you before answering.

"I just came out here to check on you. Heard you out here, so I decided to see what you were up to." Joel grumbles as he switches his weight to his other foot.

You prayed that Joel didn't know you were out here smoking weed; your dad would kill you if he heard about you doing this. Little did you know that your attempt would be a complete failure. As soon as Joel walked outside, he could smell the smoke and aroma of weed. He could also see your bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, yknow, nothing much really, just out here enjoying the view and listening to music!" You say this while waving your hand, gesturing to the view in front of both of you. You visibly cringe after this sentence because, even though it was the truth, it wasn't the full truth. He seemed to buy it, so you relaxed a bit.

"Mm, you enjoyed yourself today?" he asked.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun today. Sarah definitely made it fun for me, she's amazing." You admitted to him, and it was true. His daughter was truly a joy to be around.

"Yeah," He laughs out as he looks out at the sunset, his handsome smile threatening to appear on his face. "She's amazing, for sure." He whispers. You can't help but smile at his words. It was refreshing to see that there was someone who was able to crack his hard exterior.

A silence falls over the two of you before he speaks up again. "Y'know, when we were walking back to the car after the lake, she talked about you the whole time. I couldn't shut up about how much cooler you are than Tommy and me." He scoffs as he rolls his eyes playfully and folds his arms to his chest. His confession made you laugh so hard that you couldn't stop, which caused him to laugh as well.

"I mean, she isn't wrong." You teasingly say it to him, causing him to shake his head.

"Yeah-fuckin'-right, darlin'. I can be cool, too."

"Mmhmm.." You reply back to him as you turn your head to look back at the view. However, Joel's eyes remained on you, but you didn't mind too much.

Once again, silence fell over you two. You wanted to look back at Joel, but you knew that if you looked at him in the eyes, your heart would beat out of your chest.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Joel?" You asked him without looking at him.

"What?" Joel asked.

Was he that engrossed in my face that he wasn't even paying attention, or were you not loud enough?

You suppress your laugh as you turn your head to look at him again. "I asked if you enjoyed yourself today." He quickly snaps out of his trance and looks away.

"Oh, yeah, it was enjoyable for the most part, sweetie," Joel sighs out. You said nothing else after this.

You didn't realize it until now, but you were starting to grow tired from the weed. You also wanted a snack.

"Well, I'm going to head back in, maybe fall asleep to a movie or something." You tell him as you grab your belongings, get up from the chair, and walk to the door.

"Alright," He says as he watches every step you take. "And one last thing, darlin'," You stop with your hand on the doorknob and look up at Joel as you wait to hear what he has to say. With a mix of your high and the nervousness you were feeling because of Joel, your heart was pounding out of your chest at this point.

"You don't gotta lie to me, sweet girl. You know that, right?" He says lowly as he motioned to his eyes.

Fuck!

Your body tenses up, and you freeze. You decided to play dumb, even though you were caught. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Joel," You say as you let out a nervous laugh. Your eyes shifted to the ground, avoiding eye contact with Joel like a guilty puppy.

"Oh, no need to play stupid with me, sweet girl; I won't tell your daddy." Something about the way he said these words made you want him so bad; it was almost like he was teasing you.

You felt your walls crumbling, no longer feeling the need to lie to him. "You swear, Joel?" You asked him as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

Joel wished that you would look at him with those pretty eyes while you were on your knees, pleading and begging for him to feed you his cock. In all honesty, he'd give you the world if you asked for it with that look. You made Joel feel something he hasn't felt for a woman in years, and he was willing to do just about anything to have you. However, he could tell you weren't ready for that yet, but he knew in due time he'd have you.

"You have my word, darlin'," He nods his head. "Just don't lie to me again," Joel tells you as he points a finger.

You frantically nod your head in agreement as you bite your lip. "I won't do it again, Joel."

All Joel could think about was how obedient you are, so eager to please him and do as he says. He could feel his cock getting hard in his shorts as he looked at your bare thighs and had these thoughts. Not once did you realize that Joel was checking you out.

Oh, how badly Joel wanted to grab your chin and kiss those lips of yours. He kept reminding himself that he needed to be patient.

"Good." He says before speaking up again. "You should go inside, darlin', maybe get some rest." Joel insisted as he made his way to the door and gave you one last look before walking inside, leaving you outside by yourself.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment as you think about your interaction with Joel. You weren't sure if it was just you thinking too much into the interaction, but you felt like there was some sexual tension between you and Joel.

Any time you're around him, nervousness takes over, and a sense of yearning aches deep in your bones.

You needed him badly.

"Don't," You say to yourself. "Don't fucking think about it." You say it lowly as you try to shake the thoughts out of your head.

Joel is off limits; he's your dad's best friend.

You realized how crazy you must look standing at the door thinking about Joel, so you went inside.

Once you entered the room, you noticed that it was a little too warm in there for your liking, so you decided to leave the balcony door cracked to get some fresh air.

You put your things away, got into bed, and watched a movie on the TV across the room.

...

You weren't sure when you fell asleep, but you did during the movie without even realizing it. You felt very discombobulated, so you sat in the dark for a few minutes. Your clothes felt disgusting on your body as you sweated through them, and your throat was dry.

You quickly got out of bed, slipped off your clothes, got back into bed, and took a sip of the water bottle that lay next to you. During this, you got a glimpse of the digital clock that sat on the bedside table. It read 12:48.

The house was quiet. You were sure that Maria, Tommy, and your dad were back from the bar by now and asleep. Sarah and Joel were probably sleeping as well.

You laid back down on the bed, pushing away the uncomfortable blanket, leaving your body bare. You should have gotten up to close the door because if Joel were to come to your balcony door, he'd surely get a glimpse of your naked body. However, you were still sleepy and a little high, so you lacked the motivation to get up.

It really didn't matter anyway; he's probably still sleeping.

You had laid restless in the bed, constantly flipping the pillows to get the cool side and changing positions, but you still couldn't sleep. You decided to lay on your stomach; it helped you fall asleep sometimes.

You knew one thing that would definitely make you fall asleep, but with a particular someone lingering in your thoughts, it felt wrong. It is completely wrong to have these thoughts about him.

He's way too old for you, and he's your dad's best friend.

Though you tried your best to resist these thoughts, you couldn't help yourself.

Fuck it, it's not like I'm gonna actually fuck him, you think to yourself.

You were suddenly taken back to earlier, when you first laid eyes on him. Those eyes and the curve of his nose. You wanted nothing more than to feel his beautiful nose rub against your clit while he ate you out.

Or when he shook your hands and you felt those thick, rough fingers against your smooth hands.

You were sure that Joel knew how to use them very well.

Subconsciously, your hips had bucked into the bed, trying to get friction onto your clit causing the headboard to hit against the wall ever-so-slightly.

"Shit!" You cursed out loud, hoping that Joel didn't hear. Your heart was pounding at the thought of being caught by him, but your pussy dripped with your wetness.

You waited a couple seconds until you took your hand from underneath the pillow and slowly moved it between the bed and your body, allowing your finger tips to graze against your pussy. You couldn't help but whimper at the feeling. Your arousal ran down your fingers, to your knuckles, and onto the bed.

What you didn't know was that Joel wasn't even in his room; he was sitting out on the balcony. He had been sitting out there for about an hour or so because he couldn't sleep, not with you on his mind, so he decided to sit out there and bore himself to death until he got some sleep. When he first came outside, he checked on you and saw that you were knocked out. The room was dark, and the only thing that brought some light to the room was the bright moonlight reflecting over the lake.

As Joel got up to check on you one last time before he went back to his room, he heard you let out a whimper. He slowly walked to your balcony door so that he wouldn't scare you in case you were having a nightmare, but that wasn't the case at all. Again, Joel heard you let out another noise.

First, you sharply gasped, then moaned out, "Oh, Fuck!"

Joel became more intrigued with whatever was going on in your room because it became very apparent that you weren't having a nightmare. In fact, it didn't even sound like you were sleeping anymore.

Like a thief in the night, Joel peered through the door that was half open. What he saw before him could've brought him to his knees.

You were lying down on your stomach, fully naked on the bed. He noticed that with your right hand, you were touching yourself. Joel wasn't hard before, but he's definitely hard now. He felt as his cock strained against the fabric of his shorts.

Joel knew it was wrong to watch you masturbate without knowing, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. It had been nearly two years since the last time he had been sexually active, and quite honestly, it was catching up to him at that very moment. He had been so busy with everything in his life that sex was the last thing on his mind until now.

As Joel watched you hump your hips into your fingers, you were imagining a shirtless Joel sat up on the bed, with you sitting in between his legs. Your legs would be wide open, propped up over his, as you allowed his calloused middle and ring finger to collect your arousal from between your folder and rub it into your clit. With his deep Texas accent, he would be whispering into your ear about how much of a good girl you are and how wet you were for him. Your head would be laid on his sexy, broad shoulders as your eyes rolled with pleasure. You imagined that as he played with your clit, his other hand would touch your breast and quickly tweak your nipples as they continued going up and firmly wrapping around your neck.

You were so caught up in your thoughts and pleasure that you hadn't realized that you were moaning out Joel's name.

"J-Joel, please," You quivered out quietly enough so that you weren't too loud, but loud enough for Joel to hear. "I'll be good, p-please, daddy." You followed up.

Even though you thought that Joel was in the next room over (which he wasn't) and there were other people in the house, you still continued to touch yourself as the headboard faintly knocked against the wall.

Yet you were so blissfully unaware of it all. So unaware of the fact that Joel was standing right outside the door, watching you rubbing yourself completely nude, and unaware that Joel had pulled his cock out while he watched and listened to you.

Joel didn't care that what he was doing was wrong. He didn't care that watching you, this freshly 21-year-old, masturbate without your knowledge was bad.

The sounds of your panting, moans, and dirty talk made him want to walk right into the room and give you the pleasure you needed.

Joel has always been a selfish lover when it came to the bedroom; he liked to be the one who was dominant and always took control. He could tell you needed someone like him to fulfill your desires—not some foolish 20-something year old, but a real man.

As you continued to grind against your fingers, Joel saw how your ass moved back and forth. He wanted to spank you for being such a naughty girl. Touching yourself without asking for his permission. He would remind you that only slutty, bad girls did that.

He jerked his cock at the same speed as your hips moved. "Oh my god, daddy!" You moaned into the pillow, causing it to be muffled. The thrusting of your hips had sped up. You were on the cusp of cumming, but that changed when you suddenly pulled your hands from between your legs and got up to change positions.

You were now lying on your back with your legs bent up to your chest as far as they could go. Using the hand you just used to grind up against, you bring your middle and ring fingers to your mouth. You began to suckle on them intensely, pretending they were Joel's fingers. You could taste yourself as you did so.

A minute later, you pop your fingers out of your mouth and bring them down to your pussy. As you sink your fingers inside yourself, you can feel the wetness, allowing you to slip deeper into your tight hole. You squirmed as you felt a little discomfort due to your fingers. You decided to slowly thrust your fingers in and out, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling. With your free hand, you brought it up to your mouth to muffle your soft whines.

Oh, my baby, she can barely take her own fingers, Joel thought as he watched you.

To Joel's surprise, you still didn't see him standing by the door, hastily jerking himself off at the sight of you. It wasn't like he was being discreet about it either. He was almost fully through the door at that point. Your eyes were closed as you fingered yourself.

Finally, you were able to adjust to your fingers. As you picked up the speed, Joel could hear the wet, slick sounds coming from your pussy all the way across the room. Hearing this only heightens the pleasure for him.

"Joel, I'm-oh my god-I'm gonna cum!" You moaned lowly.

Joel wanted to be the one to make you cry, but he knew he couldn't at that moment.

Your messy wetness had allowed your fingers to go deeper inside, causing you a certain spot. Your legs shuddered as your finger tips grazed the spot. In a 'come here' motion, you continued to hit the spot over and over again. "Fuck! That's it, baby. Keep going just like that." You purred out.

Joel convulsed at the way you said these words. He was ready to cum at any moment, but he wanted to cum with you.

With his hand still rapidly moving up and down his length, he finally heard your release.

"Yes! I'm cumming all over your fingers, Joel!" You moaned a little louder this time. Joel could hear you breathing hard as you continued to ramble about how good it felt.

Instantly, Joel was cumming. He withheld his groans and grunts as the hot cum hit the palm of his other hand. Instead, he was breathing hard through his nose, hoping to God that you couldn't hear him.

Finally, your orgasm began to die down. "Oh my god," You sighed out blissfully, as you pulled your finger from your pussy. Your legs moved from your chest and you dropped down on the bed. You were still trying to catch your breath. With his mind still cloudy from cumming so hard, when Joel saw you move your legs, he thought that you were going to get off the bed, causing him to panic and move away from the door so that you couldn't see him.

You could feel the cum webbing between your two fingers. You decided that you wanted a look, so you opened your eyes and brought your hand close to your face. You could see the bright moonlight illuminate your cum. You'd never come so hard. Not with any of your hookups, let alone when you masturbated.

You felt spent after that, but you needed to get up to clean yourself off. You decided to rest your eyes a bit before getting up, but without even realizing it, you had dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

Less than five minutes later, Joel heard light snores coming from your room, so he decided that it was safe to look again. You were dead to the world. Joel saw your limp hand hanging off the bed—the same one you had used to fuck yourself with. He could see the wetness gleaming on your fingers. He wanted to come over them and suck your cum off of your fingers, but he stopped himself.

The post-nut clarity had hit Joel, and he realized that he must've looked like a creep with his cock out while he watched you sleep. So he closed your balcony door and headed back into the house to wash the cum from his hands.

Joel knew that he would have you one day; it didn't matter how long it took for him to get you. He would get you right where he wanted you eventually.

...

You woke up feeling like a brand new person that morning. Your limbs felt loose, and you felt like you could conquer the world.

You could feel the sun on your naked body as you rose out of bed to stretch. The sounds of people moving around let you know that everyone was awake.

You suddenly realized that the balcony door was now closed. You don't remember getting up to clean yourself, and you definitely don't remember ever getting up to close the door.

Realization had hit you hard, and your heart dropped.

Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

There was no way anyone could have come into your room because you had locked the bedroom door. However, Joel had access to the shared balcony.

He was the only one who could've closed that door.

Whatever, you were going to enjoy yourself this weekend and act like nothing happened.

=============================================

A/N: I had a lot of trouble writing this for some reason, but next one is going to be a lot better. I got so much planned already hehe

#smut #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #neighbor!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dads best friend #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel x you

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eveningepiphany · 9 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.

warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!

a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.

also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig

———

There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.

That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.

You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.

You’d waited years just to get here in general.

When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.

But you’re here. At the front.

You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.

A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.

Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.

But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.

Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.

You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.

Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.

“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.

You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.

“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.

Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”

Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.

“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.

“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.

You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”

You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.

“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.

“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.

You could stay in this moment forever.

As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.

You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.

Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.

Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.

Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.

And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”

“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.

Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.

The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.

You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.

You were enamoured by him.

Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.

His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.

“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.

“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.

He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”

You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.

But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.

From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.

But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.

This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.

And then he reads the sign.

‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’

His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.

You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.

“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.

As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.

However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.

He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.

“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”

“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.

Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.

‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.

“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.

He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.

“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.

“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”

A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”

Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.

You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.

He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”

You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.

The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.

Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.

“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.

“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.

“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”

And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.

You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.

And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.

But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.

You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.

It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.

To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.

Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”

You blow a kiss back.

And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.

Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.

You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.

Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.

———

Post love on tour depression is a real thing.

There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.

But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.

The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.

And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.

The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.

You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.

You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.

It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”

It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.

That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.

Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.

“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.

He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.

He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.

“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.

You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.

But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.

You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.

“Hi…” You flush profusely.

“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.

Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.

The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.

That are very intensely locked onto yours…

“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”

He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.

“Y/N.” He tuts gently.

“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.

“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.

“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.

Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?

You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.

“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”

“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.

“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.

You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.

He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.

Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.

You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.

Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.

Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.

You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.

You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.

You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”

He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.

“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.

“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.

“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,

“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”

Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”

He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.

In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.

“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.

The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.

“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.

“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”

He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”

“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.

“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.

“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.

“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”

“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.

“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.

“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”

He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.

You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.

Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.

The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.

He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.

Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.

You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.

But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.

You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”

He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”

A friend of his?

“Alright, bye, I love you.”

And just like that the phone hung up.

“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.

“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.

You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.

“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.

It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.

“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”

“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”

As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.

Your brain stalls at his comment.

“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.

“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”

“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.

“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.

You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”

He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”

“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”

You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”

He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.

You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.

“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”

He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.

You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.

“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.

He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.

Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.

You check your phone to see the time.

1:53pm

1 new notification

Unknown Number | :)

So that actually did just happen.

———

To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,

so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?

And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.

———

part two!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles smut #famous harry #fan! y/n #fangirl! y/n #italyrry #he’s so cute

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pricefieldsuperiority · 4 days

Text

Yearning Allegations - Pt.2

Part 1 can be found here

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn

Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?

The first thing you do when you get back to your dorm is groan. Why the hell did you say that? Now she's gonna be worried about you, which is the last thing you'd want.

Annoyed with yourself, you kick off your shoes and throw your clothes into the corner before changing into an old oversized shirt you stole off Paige once when you slept over at hers. It's comforting, still smelling vaguely like her, and you curl up in your bed, plush bedcovers over your knees.

Earbuds in, you press play on Taylor Swift's newest album. Your taste in music was different from Paige's, preferring pop and rock, whereas she liked what you affectionately called "fuckboy music." Of course this was just a lighthearted inside joke, you also liked some of her music, like PartyNextDoor or The Weeknd.

You're halfway through the song 'Down Bad' when you hear a light knock at your door and a soft voice.

"Hey y/n? You good? Open up"

You open up the door to see Paige standing there with an unreadable expression, and then she just walks right in and drops onto your bed.

"Yeah, I'm all good" You say, hoping you sound reassuring. Can she tell you don't actually have a headache?

Paige doesn't say anything. She just seems to be studying you closely, and you nervously ramble on.

"You really didn't have to leave the party, sorry if I freaked you out or something"

You've said it all in a rush, and Paige just smiles a bit as she reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You want to speak up and tease her to ease the tension until you look at her face.

Paige's expression is gentle, and you notice just how dilated her pupils are in the dim light of your room. Her irises are small, nothing but a vivid blue ring, and you smile at the sight. Her eyes are just so pretty, they've always reminded you of forget me nots, or a clear sky, and you're so busy pondering their exact shade match that you realize you forgot to speak.

"What?" Paige says, suddenly self-conscious.

You blink a few times.

"Nothing"

You turn away, grabbing your glass of water off the nightstand.

Paige is looking at you, head slightly cocked, brows knit quizzically. Your mouth feels dry despite the water, and you want her to stop looking at you like she's trying to figure you out.

"I swear I'm actually good, deadass. My head just really hurts. Probably chugged too many shots during that drinking game earlier. " You put down your cup and dramatically flop onto the bed, closing your eyes and then peeking one open to check if your explanation worked.

Paige finally relaxes and smirks at you,

"Pfft y/n you're such a light weight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

You scoff and reply with a grumbled whatever I'm fine, pressing a hand to your head dramatically, and Paige props herself up against the wall, holding one arm out for you.

"Alright, alright, come here."

You smile at her, cuddling up to her side. Her perfume smells so good. It's a subtle vanilla. You settle on her chest as she holds you.

"Also- are you wearing my shirt?" Paige says, rather amused.

"Yeah? Why, do you want it back? I’ll give it to you later" You retort, with half a mind to take it off and playfully throw it at her. This is how it was between you two, at least when you weren't acting like an idiot.

"Nono it's fine, just thought it was... interesting"

Paige pulls you back in, hiding her grin with her hand.

You're fighting off sleep, but you still scoff in response, and she just strokes your hair gently as you drift off.

---

The next week, Paige is over at your dorm, playing Fortnite on call with KK and Ice as you play League of Legends.

"Ughhhhh!!"

Paige groans with frustration, putting down her controller as she loses another match. KK and Ice are bickering with each other over call, and you just smile at the familiar sounds.

You're busy fighting hard in League. Your team is technically losing, but you think you might be able to carry if you score a few more kills at the right time. You don't look up when Paige sits down next to you, headset and game abandoned, head resting over your shoulder to watch you play.

"Another loss, huh?" You say, grinning while you score another kill.

You don't need to turn around to see Paige's eyeroll.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I just lost cause I was trolling too hard"

Paige is a bit of a sore loser (and dramatic) so you can't resist the urge to poke a little fun at her.

"That's what you get for being a Fortnite player, cringe as hell man”

Paige throws her hands up as she retorts back,

"Dude you're literally playing fuckin League of Legends right now, you can't talk"

You finally look away for a second to grin mischievously at her, one eyebrow cocked.

"Well, at least I'm good at League-"

Not more than 2 seconds pass before Paige sticks her whole hand in front of your screen during a team fight, causing your character to die. You end up losing the game, considering the enemy team was already way ahead.

"What the hell, Paige!"

You whine, and she just grins evily in response.

"HA, what were you saying about winning??-"

You don't allow her to finish that sentence because you shove her over, standing up from the chair and knocking her onto your bed.

"Hey!"

Paige shouts as you start tickling her sides, absolutely going in. You've got a knee on her leg to make sure she doesn't wiggle away from you.

"Yeah, so who's losing now-" You laugh, her cussing at you, trying to pull your hands away.

After a few minutes, Paige pushes you over, and now it's a full-blown battle. Your hands scramble to find her weak spots before she can find yours, and you note how her loose t shirt has risen up, a bit of her stomach out as she kneels over. You seize the opportunity and tickle just under the hem of her shirt, fingers hitting bare skin.

Paige's face blushes a deep pink as she feels your hands go up her shirt, and she grabs one of your wrists, pinning it to the bed.

"Paige!" You can't get your wrist free from underneath her, she's stupidly strong. You can't even move away because she's sitting on you now, using her free hand to tickle your neck and side mercilessly.

"I think you're the one losing!" Paige says triumphantly, enjoying the sight of you squealing.

You sneak your other hand unpinned hand into her waist, tickling her side, and she curses, grabbing that hand and pinning it too.

Breathing heavy, you're both flush against each other for a moment, her body leaning over yours, and for a second, you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your lips.

You stop moving entirely, admiring her from your position beneath her, trying to mentally engrave the way the light highlighted the honey streaks in her hair into your memory. Your eyes dart down once to her slightly parted lips before glancing up to her eyes, the expression in them unreadable.

"I- I won!" Paige gets off you in a hurry, moving away quickly to smooth her shirt down in your bedroom mirror.

"Yeah yeah whatever" You say back, hoping she didn't hear the shake in your voice. You press the back of your hands to your cheeks. They're warm.

Paige doesn't stay long after that, saying she needs to get some homework done, and you just sit alone in your bedroom after she's left, playing back the moments to yourself.

What the hell was that?

---

Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first chapter <3. Paige and y/n gamer losers, this is true.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn #wlw #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #fanfic #friends to lovers #slow burn #Spotify

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jessmaybank · 10 months

Text

Right here - Rafe Cameron

Based on the song Right here by Chase Atlantic

Outer banks x chase atlantic masterlist

Navigation

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.4k

Summary: in which a secret friends with benefits relationship gets messy.

Warnings: drug use (weed), swearing, SMUT, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, nipple play, oral (f receiving).

AN: lots of mutual pining, teasing, jealousy & angst. friends to lovers. This is easily my fave thing I’ve ever written. Flashbacks are in italics, enjoy!

I'm so far from the line, yeah

I'm too deep in my mind, yeah

If she calls, I'll be right there

That's three calls in a night, yeah

“Hey” she says quietly, phone pressed to her ear as she answers his call in the middle of the night, something she still hadn’t quite grown accustomed too yet. her voice sounded so delicate and sweet, it made Rafe’s head rush.

This was the third call she had received from him this week, and it always ended the same. Each time she would tell herself that it was the last, but here she was, tangled within her lilac sheets, unable to let the call go to voicemail. She always seemed to bend her rules when it came to him.

“Hey. Did I wake you up?” He asks, voice tainted with something that sounded like concern, but she wasn’t quite sure. Rafe wasn’t exactly known for his ability to emphasise with others. Rather, his actions were always driven by his own selfish wants and needs, and he was extremely stubborn. That was was something which she learnt the day their arrangement started.

“Rafe, I swear to god, move. I shotgunned the couch” she said, arms crossed as her lips move into a small pout, her doe eyes hard to miss.

Rafe thought the expression was nothing less than adorable, observing the way her eyebrows were furrowed slightly to be more convincing, hoping to get some sympathy out of him. But despite the frown on her face, he knew she was biting back a smile. She liked being teased just as much as he liked teasing her.

The corners of his mouth upturned into an amused grin, something which should of annoyed her further, but it didn’t. Instead, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from matching his expression.

They were at toppers house, in the midst of a party which had just began to die down, the crowds of young adults sprawled around the large living room getting smaller by the minute. She had no intention of going home anytime soon, and neither did he.

“Not anymore, angel” he says, manspreading on the couch to get comfortable, but also just as a way to tease her further. But once again, the familiar nickname he picked for her, and only her, made it near impossible for her to be mad at him.

They had been friends for a long time now, so in theory she should have been used to it, but she just wasn’t. Every time the word left his cherry red lips, she felt like a giddy teenager again.

She sighs in defeat, tugging on one of the loose threads of his hoodie which he gave her, one of the many endearing gestures which made all the constant teasing seemingly tolerable.

“Stop being greedy and just sit next to me” he says, patting the empty space next to him. His shiny gold rings that decorated his fingers were a stark contrast to the dim light which began to engulf the room as it grew later into the night, and she began to wonder how one mans hands could be so attractive.

Maybe she was being greedy for wanting the whole couch to herself, but she was not about to be criticised by Rafe Cameron himself. He was quite literally the epitome of greed, even if she failed to recognise that sometimes, her delusion towards him a symbol of her naive nature.

She pretended to hesitate before sitting down on the couch next to him, the smell of her sweet perfume invading his senses, throwing him off track. She was the only person who could make his nonchalant nature falter so easy, and the feeling was so unfamiliar to him he almost felt uneasy whenever she was near.

Every time Topper threw a party, she had an end-of-night tradition. She would sprawl across the expensive couch with a blanket, smoke the pre-rolled joint she would bring with her every time, and slowly become one which the couch, her body melting into the white leather. Luckily, Toppers parents were gone for the week this time, so she had permission to smoke inside.

She turned her body, leaning her back against the armrest of the couch, before draping her legs over Rafe’s lap. They weren’t exactly used to such affections at this stage in their relationship, but she was a bit tipsy, and she certainly wasn’t going to let him stop her from getting comfy.

Her squeaky clean converse dug into his thigh a little, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sent her a glare, and he prayed he put on a good enough of a show to convince her it was real.

“What? I warned you” she said, shifting slightly to retrieve the blanket which was hung on the back of the couch, throwing it over them both.

Rafe placed his hands under the blanket and rested them on her legs, just below her knees, the evening breeze coming through the windows seemingly prevalent. He was a bit cold in his t-shirt, but he would never dare to ask for his hoodie back. He noted how warm she felt as his fingers brushed the bare skin of her legs, and suddenly he wanted to bury his head between them.

She dug her dainty hands into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a slightly crumpled joint and a dodgy lighter. Her manicured pink nails made her hands look so fragile, and Rafe couldn’t fathom how one girls hands could be so fucking cute.

She lights the joint, the flame lighting up her face in an orange tint, the warm hue painted over her features a perfect picture to him. He watched as she inhaled and exhaled again and again, and it dawned on him then that he could watch her do anything, and he would never get bored.

“Sharing is caring, angel” he says, placing his hand out in front of her. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small grin which graced her lips, her sweetness practically radiating off her as she passed him the joint, captivated in the way he inhaled before blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the living room, blurring their vision slightly.

Weed always made Rafe a little more touchy than usual. When he’s sober, his anxiety is always apparent in his tensed muscles or his clenched jaw, or the way he always runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed out. But as soon as marijuana was flowing through him, his mind relaxed, and so did his body.

he’s pretty dazed by the time he passes the joint back. He digs his hands under the blanket once again, running the tips of his fingers innocently across her thighs, relishing in her smooth skin. but the feeling it caused her was anything but innocent.

“Do you mind?” She says, her voice betraying her as it came out shaky. He turned his head, and when she saw the mischievous glint which lay behind his bloodshot eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

He had to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue to suppress a grin. He thought her flustered state was completely endearing, and he loved knowing the effect he had on her. “Am I distracting you, angel?”

“No” yes.

She hoped she was convincing, but he could see right through her, mostly as he observed the way she drew in a sharp breath as his hands travelled further and further up her leg, her skin tingling at his touch.

“You see, I don’t believe you” he smirks, shifting towards her, his hand stopping right at the hem of her denim mini skirt, fingers dipping under the material ever so slightly, as if he was daring himself to go even further.

“Rafe” she whispers. fuck. His name had never sounded so pretty until it came out of her mouth.

She took another hit of the joint, trying to distract herself from his dirty little games. But the higher she got, the more she melted into his touch.

She sent him a half-hearted pleading look, one which should of convinced him to back away, but unfortunately for her, he could read her like his favourite book, and the way her legs squirmed on top of him, parting ever so slightly, gave him all the confirmation he needed.

His fingers dipped under her skirt, the cold metal of his rings grazing the top of her thigh, cooling down her burning skin. She looked around, making sure no one was paying attention, and relaxed a little when she noticed everyone left was either passed out or too engrossed in conversation to notice either of them.

His lips parted as he made contact with her clothed pussy, coming to the realisation her lace underwear was soaked. His shorts tightened as his cock grew rock hard, and he prayed she couldn’t feel it under her legs, but of course she could.

Her legs squirmed once again as he started toying with her clothed clit, her calf’s rubbing right against his cock, and he swore she was hell-bent on torturing him.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand dove into her underwear, running his fingers up her folds, almost groaning as he felt her arousal. The heavy pants coming from her glossy lips were drowned out by the music which played from toppers speaker, and suddenly Rafe wished the room was silent.

The joint fell from her fingers and onto the blanket as he inserted two fingers inside of her, the pit of her stomach heating up as pleasure flows through her, sinking her body further into the couch.

He retrieved the joint with his free hand before it burnt a hole in the blanket, taking a hit before putting the roach into the ash tray next to him. She was shocked at how nonchalant he looked, pretending as if his fingers weren’t inside of her as they sat in a room with all of their friends, at risk of being caught at any moment.

He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, in awe of the way she struggled to keep her eyes open, the bloodshot whites in her eyes making her look even more fucked out. He draped his free arm on the back of the couch as he continued to finger fuck her with his other, and when their eyes met, electricity shot down her spine, entranced by his blown out pupils.

she lifted the blanket to cover her mouth as moans threatened to spill out of her, her legs now spread for him underneath the soft material. He didn’t care that they weren’t alone, he didn’t like the fact she wanted to hide her face from him.

He shakes his head slightly, tutting as he brings his free arm down, pulling the blanket from her face before cupping her jaw. “Let me see you” he said, his voice steady. And as she bit her lip to suppress a whimper, pussy clenching around his fingers, he knew he was in trouble.

“No, I can’t seem to sleep” she says, voice quiet through the phone, but he heard her clearly.

“I’ve been thinking about you today. Can you come over?” he says, and her eyes shut in defeat.

He would always do this, call her up and sweet talk her into coming over so they could fuck. Rafe never gave any of his feelings away, living up to his fuck boy reputation, and so everytime she would leave his house, thinking she was nothing but a warm body to him, she swore to herself she would never let him pull at her heartstrings like that again.

But just like him, her lack of self control betrayed her every time.

She takes a while to respond, and Rafe had to question if he managed to fuck everything up in a 2 minute phone call.

“I’ll be there in 10” she says, her voice sweet like honey, and finally he felt like he could breathe again.

Well girl, what do you think about

Staying right here in bed?

I didn't hear a word you said

I wasn't that high, I swear

Her eyes drifted open at around 8am, the morning sun making her wince as she tries to focus her vision, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Her movements come to a halt as she feels the weight of someone pressed up behind her, arm draped over her waist and head buried behind her neck.

Her eyes widen slightly as she turns so she’s almost on her back, observing how at peace Rafe looked as he was cuddled up to her, his chest rising and falling every few seconds, the sounds of his breathing relaxing her somewhat.

She must of passed out before she had the chance to leave last night, which happened sometimes whenever they were together super late. Sometimes, by the time Rafe was done with her, she would actually struggle to move, exhaustion overtaking her limp body.

But this was the first time they woke up like this. Usually, she would stick to her side of the bed, and he would stick to hers, abiding by Rafe’s stupid rule of no cuddling, as if it would somehow cure his growing infatuation for her.

He was not a relationship person, and that was something she definitely learnt the hard way. Growing up in the household that be did, Rafe had always struggled with letting people in. His father had made it impossible for him to trust, and whenever he got close, he would bolt, too scared to let himself feel anything.

For some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of her. So instead, he made a bunch of stupid rules, in the hopes that it would stop him falling too deep.

Peering up at him with tired eyes, she came to the realisation that she would let him do anything to her as long as it meant he was this close. She would let him walk all over her, whatever way he wanted, if it meant she could stay in bed, like this, with him, just for a little longer.

She almost jumped out of her skin as Rose called for Rafe from downstairs, and the moment she could see his eyes battling to open beneath his eyelids, she turned back around, pretending to be asleep.

he shifted behind her as his eyes fluttered open, adjusting to his surroundings. He mentally cursed his lack of self control as he observed the position he was in, but surprisingly, he didn’t move.

Instead, he ran his fingers through a lock of her hair, the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo making him second guess every single decision he’s ever made. He trailed his fingers all the way down to the curves of her bare hips, before planting a sweet kiss on the back of her head. It took everything in her to remain still, to suppress a bright smile, but she did, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine at his sweet affections.

Rose called for him again, and he rolled his eyes, but he still just couldn’t bring himself to move. He trailed his eyes to last nights hickeys that were littered across her neck and shoulder, and he realised then that maybe, just maybe, he would bend his rules, if it meant he could stay in bed, like this, with her, just for a little longer.

It's happening again

Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends

I'm right here

Oh, baby, take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

His eyes spotted her as soon as she entered his house, seemingly uninterested in the party around him. She looked good, too good, as he observed her appearance. Her summer dress painted her figure in the most delectable way, and her glossy lips looked so succulent he had to hold himself back from kissing her when she sat down next to him.

“You look happy” she says, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she speaks. The amusing look on her face subsided as she noticed the way he licked his red lips, his blue orbs filled with something she couldn’t place.

She lent back, still facing him, almost touching his arm that was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers close to her shoulder. It took everything in him not to run his fingers along her soft skin, a deep craving to trail his fingers over the freckles littered on her shoulder, and he had to question wether he was starting to go insane.

“You didn’t answer yesterday” he says, taking a swig of his bottle of whiskey, a usual favourite for him.

Is that why he looked so glum? It couldn’t be, it’s Rafe we’re talking about here. So then why did he look so doleful? She was burning to know, but she knew better than to pry when it came to him. So, she tried to comfort him in the only way she knew he would let him.

“Can I make it up to you?” She says sweetly, and that caught his attention instantly, head turning to face her. Her doe eyes were glistening with desire, her organs pumping with adrenaline, and she swore she saw his features soften.

Her sinful thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, and she caught the way that Rafe’s jaw clenched at something behind her before she turned around, revealing some touron she met at party a couple weeks ago. If she was being honest, she didn’t even remember his name, but she didn’t have the heart to be rude.

And just like that, she was ripped away from him, the missing warmth from her beside him making his insides twist in the worst way possible as he watched her disappear into the crowd, muscles tensing as he paid attention to how her hands were intertwined with his. Is that why she didn’t answer yesterday? Was she with him? His blood ran cold at the thought, his face contorting with disappointment as he ran a hand through his hair, taking an extra big sip of his whiskey.

He then focused his dull gaze on the empty seat beside him, and before he knew it, time started to slow.

They both sat naked in his living room, her heart racing as she straddled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The sweetness of her cherry lip gloss drowned his tongue as he hummed into her mouth, her insides tingling at the sweet sound as their lips moved together in a passionate kiss.

She realised then that she loved every single sound he made. Even if it was a rude remark, which wasn’t exactly uncommon with Rafe, at least it was something. At least she got to hear him.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you” he mumbled into her mouth, fingers entwined in her messy hair. His voice was low and quiet, but the words pierced through her heart as if he shouted it at the top of his lungs.

She noticed that he would only say nice things to her when they were fucking, and although she didn’t complain in the moment, she always felt uneasy afterwards, his empty words lingering in her mind.

“Yeah?” God. Her voice sounded so weak and fragile, she wished she could just lay on the floor and let the ground swallow her hole. Maybe then, her conflicting thoughts would finally subside.

But Fuck, he loved when she was nervous because of him. Her shaky voice made his lips curl up into a smirk, pushing her hips down in line with his cock, watching her lidded eyes as she pushed herself down onto him, stretching her out and taking him whole.

“Your so fucking beautiful, angel” he moaned, not being able to stop his thoughts whilst he was inside her. In fact, he never could. Whenever they had sex, he would just speak his mind freely, not being able to hold back.

Her moans were full of sin as she began to bounce on his cock, digging her pink nails into his shoulders and throwing her head back in pleasure. He took the opportunity to wrap a hand round her neck, squeezing just the right amount, making sure he didn’t hurt her too much. He brought his other hand up to play with her nipple, pinching on the sensitive skin, and she jerked on top of him, making him smirk.

“Fucking addictive” he mumbles, letting go of her neck and gripping her hair instead, pulling her head forward to look him right in the eyes.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean” she says, clawing her nails down his bare chest, leaving little red marks to replace the old faded ones.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and pushing her against the couch, her back sinking into the soft material. “Oh, I mean it”

Her eyes screw shut as he pounds into her, her breathing increasingly unorganised as his nails dug into her hips. His forehead glistened with a thin layer of sweat, his hair sticking to it, and he had to bite back a smile as he saw how fucked out she was beneath him, her cheeks stained with a faint redness.

“I hate you” she says, a sincere look on her face. And if he didn’t feel her pussy clenching around him in that moment, he might of believed her.

“Earth to Rafe” Topper says, waving his hand in front of his face, and he snapped back to reality.

“Jesus man, what’s gotten into you”

He shrugs in response, an unamused look on his face. “You playing?” Topper asks, turning his head towards the circle of people sat in the middle of the room. Rafe follows toppers line of vision, and his jaw clenches. Usually, he doesn’t indulge in party games, but as soon as he saw her sat in the circle, he was making his way over.

She sat with her best friend, Tara, laughing and giggling as she sips on her vodka soda. He sat down opposite her, their eyes meeting, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the room.

“Rafe looks good tonight, doesn’t he” Tara says, a small smile painting her features, snapping her out of her daze. No one knew about their arrangement, and so she didn’t really have a right to be mad, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart sank at her friends words.

“I guess” she says, doing her best to mask her jealousy with a bored look, but it didn’t really work.

The games started off innocent, a few harmless truths and dares, but as always, it turned sexual very quickly. Topper was always the one to blame for that.

“Okay, this round is 7 minutes in heaven. You know the rules, if the bottle lands on you, you have to spend 7 minutes locked in a room with whoever it lands on next. No backing out” Kelce says, and her heart began to beat a little faster.

Kelce lent forward, gripping the glass beer bottle and giving it a spin. Rafe looked across at her, observing how her eyes were glued to the bottle as it span, and he hoped to god he wasn’t going to have to watch her go into a room with somebody else.

His thoughts were interrupted as their eyes connected, and confusion filled him as he took notice of her wide eyes. He looked down, and when he realised the bottle was pointed at him, it was like all the colour drained from his face.

People began to cheer around them, topper leaning over to pat his back, but she couldn’t do anything but sit, completely frozen. Kelce then span the bottle again, and her heart sank to her feet as it landed on Tara.

Tara giggled as she stood up, smoothing out her dress with her hands, but Rafe didn’t move, clearly hesitant. He tried to ignore the alcohol induced encouragement from everyone around them, and she had a sliver of hope that maybe he wouldn’t do it.

But when she saw him stand up and begin to lead her best friend into one of the downstairs bedrooms, it was like a dagger straight through the heart. She sat there for a minute or two, in her own world as she pinched herself, over and over again, to stop the tears which threatened to spill out of her.

She made her way outside, pushing through the back doors of the house and into the empty garden, the evening breeze giving her goosebumps. She knew she only had herself to blame, he told her what it was from the start and she didn’t listen, but that didn’t make the pain any easier.

She sat down on the stairs of the outside decking, arms crossed as she rubs her arms, trying to warm herself up. She heard some commotion from inside, and turned her head to see through the glass doors.

Everyone cheered as Rafe and Tara made their way out into the living room, and she struggled to breathe as she observed the way Tara pulled her dress down and fixed her hair, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what went on.

Rafe’s heart sank as he returned, scanning around the room to find she was no where to be seen. His gaze landed on her figure outside, and he didn’t hesitate to make his way to her, ignoring the confused looks from Topper and Kelce as he walked straight passed them.

She didn’t have to guess who it was as she heard the door open, and she shot up, walking towards the pool, not wanting to speak to him just yet.

“Where are you running off to?” He says, a quizzical look on his face as he follows her down the garden, shoving his arms in his pockets.

“My best friend, Rafe, really?” She says, sass laced within her voice as she runs a hand through her hair, halting her movements as she stands right in front of the pool, the moonlight reflecting in the water ever so slightly.

“Nothing happened” he replied, and although he knew she would never believe it, he was telling the truth.

Yes, it’s true, Rafe may be known for having a wandering eye, but as Tara sat on the bed, trying her best to seduce him, he just knew no one could ever compare to her.

“Bullshit”

She scoffs at him, her features contorting with anger as she stares at the water ahead, knowing the second she looks at him, she would give in. “I know that we’re just friends” she starts, ignoring the despair in the pit of her stomach as she cringes at her own words.

“But friends don’t disrespect each other. And believe it or not Rafe, fucking my friends falls under that category” she shouts, her voice raised as she now turns to face him.

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends, okay. I’m right here with you, am I not?” He replies back, his frustration evident in his tone.

He wished she believed him. He wished she knew that sometimes, he couldn’t even sleep at night, too wound up in thinking about how soft her hair was, or how cute she looked in the mornings when they would wake up together, and she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“Yeah, after you had your fun” she mumbles quietly, but he heard it. Something in his mind clicked, and he wasn’t sure why it took him so long, but he finally figured out what was going on.

The corners of lips turned upwards into a shit eating grin, and she swore she had never been so close to punching him.

He takes a step forward, their shoes touching, and brings a finger to her chin, pushing her head up to look him straight in the eyes.

“Your jealous” he says teasingly, his features a picture of pure joy.

“Your insufferable” she says, rolling her eyes, trying her best to be rude even though he was right. But all he could concentrate on was the fact she didn’t even deny it.

Her poker face disappears as he moves her hair off her shoulders, bringing his head down to plant harsh kisses along her neck, biting the sweet spot in the way he knew she liked it.

“Admit it” he mumbles into her neck, his hot breath making her insides tingle.

She debated it for a second, before she decided she had a better idea.

She palmed his cock through his shorts, trying not to get distracted by him as he lifted his head up, mouth agape, his darkened eyes illustrating that he wanted to devour her mercilessly.

And when she knew he was fully distracted, she pushed him into the pool.

Rafe emerged from the rippling water, his wet hair clinging to her forehead, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry” she giggles, bending down and crouching to get a better look at him, ignoring the glare that painted his features.

His glare didn’t stay for long, too caught up in how cute her laugh was. The cogs in his brain turned as his eyebrows furrowed into a thoughtful look, and before she could react, he was tugging on her arms and pulling her into the pool with him.

“Fuck you!” She shouts, almost chocking on the water as she laughs, making sure to splash him in the face.

“All you have to do is ask, angel” he smirks, trailing his eyes down to her breasts, rejoicing in the way her hardened nipples were poking through her dress, like they were begging to be touched.

He swims towards her, skin glistening with water droplets, and she just couldn’t help but stare at him in absolute awe.

He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against hers, lingering there for a moment as he grabs her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and pushing her back against the pool wall. Her hands clung to his wet hair, and as she registered just how heavy her breathing was, she knew she was too far gone.

“Someone’s ganna see” she whispers, unable to concentrate when he’s touching her like this.

“Let them” he says, his voice hoarse. He brought his hand up to cup her flushed cheek, before their lips connected in a sweet kiss.

One draw at a time, yeah

One more, you'll be fine, yeah

And I swear she was right there

The blue glow and the night wear

“Tell me how you want it, angel” he mumbles into her collar bone, trailing sloppy kisses all the way down from her breasts to her stomach.

He had turned up to her house in the middle of the day, not even bothering to phone her. It was rare that they spent time together during daylight hours, but she wasn’t exactly complaining. And as always, it had taken him all of 5 minutes until he had her striped down to her underwear, her black lingerie set making his head rush.

“Slow” is all she says, and he’s a bit taken back, lifting himself up so their face to face again. Rafe was an experienced man, but never has he once had slow sex. She lifted her head into the krook of his neck, planting sweet kisses along his skin and up to his jawline, occasionally biting, but not enough to actually hurt him. He came to the conclusion then that as long as she kept kissing him like that, he would try anything for her.

He hooked his fingers in her underwear, pulling them down her legs and revealing her drenched pussy. It didn’t matter how many times Rafe saw her naked, each time still felt like the first.

He buried his head between her legs and kissed her throbbing clit, before lapping his tongue teasingly over the bundle of nerves, small whimpers leaving her mouth at the sensation. She dug her manicured nails into her sheets, and she could feel him smirk against her pussy.

“You like that?” He asks lowly, even though he already knew the answer. She nodded her head, screwing her eyes shut as his licks got harsher, but remained slow.

He placed one hand on her stomach as he ate her out, looking up at her blissful state, and as she moaned his name, he felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

He pulled away, climbing up her body to meet her face once again, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as he lined himself up with her entrance, pushing his cock into her painfully slowly. The pit in her stomach grew heavier and heavier as he stretched her out, and he practically groaned into her mouth.

He started fucking her with slow but harsh strokes, gazing deeply into her eyes, and it dawned on him then that this felt like more than just sex. He trailed his thumb along her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, watching as she sucked on it with lidded eyes, and as she looked up at him, she realised that his blue orbs had some green in them.

What he didn’t know, was that when he knocked on her door earlier that day, and she peered at him through her window, she decided that this had to be the last time they fucked. The jealousy and sadness that he brought on her was turning her into someone that she didn’t recognise, and she knew she had to stop before it was too late, before he had broke her completely.

She savoured every minute as he thrusted into her, digging her nails down his back, leaving little red marks. He replaced his thumb with his lips, tongue diving down her throat as she hummed into his mouth, their kiss sloppy as they were both moaning messes.

He buried his head in her neck, biting her shoulder gently as his eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed at how good this felt even though it wasn’t what he was used to.

The feeling was so bittersweet as she let a single tear roll down her red cheeks, tangling her hands in his hair, only now realising that she had fallen in love with Rafe Cameron, and now she was going to have to heal.

Girl, I've been taking it slow

You know I've been taking it slow

You're sitting alone, why are you sitting alone?

Baby, just pick up your phone, oh

'Cause I've been rolling all damn night, whoa

She took a sip of her champagne as she walked through the beautiful flower garden, mentally praising Toppers parents for choosing to get married in such a picturesque place.

Her hair was plaited into two, with daisy flowers weaved into her hair, sticking to the floral theme of the wedding, and her lilac silk dress was accompanied with matching heels.

She walked to the end of the establishment, making sure no one else was around, before retrieving a crumpled up joint and a lighter from her purse, wasting no time in lighting it, staring at all the luscious plants around her as her body started to relax.

She’s interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and she almost gave herself whiplash with how fast she turned around.

“Jesus! Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to creep up on people?” She asks, eyes slightly wide as she takes a look at the man in front of her. He stood in a black suit, which she could tell was expensive, and a glass of whiskey sat in his ring clad hand, the condensation from the glass rolling down his fingers.

“Says the one getting stoned at a wedding” he says, smirking as he gestures to the lit joint in her hand.

“Hm, touché. But its the only way I’m going to be able to get through Toppers mums speech. I love Top with all my heart, but that woman is the devil” she says, taking a drag of her joint, watching as some of the loose embers fall onto the floor.

He laughs then, a real laugh, which for some reason melted her insides, and her cherry red lips turned upwards into a bright smile.

All Rafe could think about was how someone as beautiful as her could exist, and he didn’t even know about it. He made a mental note to punch Topper later for not introducing her to him.

“You like daisies?” He asks, and confusion fills her features for a second before she realised he’s talking about her hair.

“Uh, yeah. They were my mum’s favourite” she said, a certain dullness laying behind her eyes. His hands grew clammy as he put two and two together, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to intrude on the personal life of a complete stranger.

“I like it. You kind of look like an angel” he says, and he clears his throat as he realised what he just said, his forwardness even shocking himself.

Her smile never wavered as he spoke, features lighting up at his kind words, and suddenly she needed to know who on earth this man was.

“I’m Y/N” she says, leaning her arm out to shake his, her dainty arms no match for his muscular ones.

“Rafe” he responds, mirroring her actions, and as soon as his skin touched hers, she had a feeling he was here to stay.

She sat alone in the island club, watching her phone light up as his contact came onto the slightly cracked screen, the small vibrations of her ringtone filling the room. Her head fell into her hands as she sighed, doing everything she could to go against her urges to answer the call.

She had been ignoring him for a few days, trying to detach herself, but every time he called, she got closer and closer to caving. Everything she did was for him, and now, everything she was doing was because of him, and it was so painful.

Rafe was at toppers with the boys, sipping on his whiskey as he held his phone up to his ear, listening to his ringer as the call went to voicemail for the third time that night.

“Fuck” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair as he shifted on the couch, the same couch where he had his first sinful encounter with her.

“Who are you calling?” Kelce says, eyes squinting with suspicion as he looks at Rafe, registering his stressed out state.

“No one” he replies, and it was impossible to miss the look that Kelce and Topper gave each other.

“Rafe, you might think you were being sneaky, but we know you’ve been seeing Y/N for months now. You guys are kinda obvious” Topper says, eyebrows raised as he confesses to his best friend, a small smile on his face.

“Plus, I saw you guys fucking in the pool the other night” Kelce says, and Rafe’s eyes widen.

“Shit” he says, not really sure what to say. For the first time in his life, he was stumped.

“You really like her, huh?” Topper says, always able to know what his best friend was thinking.

Rafe hesitated before nodding his head, taking another sip of his whiskey, rejoicing in the way it warmed his insides and numbed his pain.

“She won’t return my calls” he says, his mind a spiralling mess. He was trying to rack his brain to figure out what he had done wrong, but the more he thought about it the more confused he got.

“you have to make a gesture, something to show you care. Girls eat that shit up man” Topper said, patting Rafe on the back, Kelce nodding along with him. And as he was racking his brain for ideas, one thing did spring to mind.

Oh, baby, take a look around

I’m the only one that hasn’t walked out

I'm right here

She scanned the perimeter as she stepped onto the boat, the salty smell of the ocean wafting through the mid-day air. She spotted topper at the bar almost immediately, making some sort of cocktail concoction, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she walked up to him.

“Your late” Topper says as he spots her, the sound of the blender making it hard for her to hear, but she did.

“Fashionably late” she corrects him, gesturing to her matching bikini, lifting her sunglasses off of her eyes and resting them on her head, her hair cascading off her shoulders elegantly.

“Why am I here anyway? Frozen Margarita’s don’t really seem like much of an emergency” she says, eyebrows raised as an amused look paints her features.

“Oh but it is. I need you to test my recipe” he says, and as much as she wanted to be annoyed for dragging her out here for no reason, a margarita did sound good.

“Can you go get me some more lime juice from downstairs?” he says, and she nodded her head in response, placing her purse down on the bar before heading for the stairs.

The heels of her wedges clicked as she walked down the wooden stairs, heading straight to the downstairs bar. She flicked through the cupboards as she tried to find the desired lime juice, before her eyes landed on a glass vase which sat in the middle of the bar.

She drew in a sharp breath as she gazed at the bouquet of fresh daisies, accompanied by a card with her name on it, and her eyebrows furrowed. She brought her hand up to stroke the fragile petals, and the memory of her mother plagued her mind.

“What the-“

“They were your mother’s favourite” a male voice says, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “I remembered”

He pulled on her heartstrings as he stood in the doorway, a baseball cap sitting backwards lazily on his head, and a crooked smile on his ruby red lips that she could never get tired of, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t believe he remembered such a small detail like that, and she began to think maybe her prejudice towards him was all wrong.

“Rafe” she says quietly, clearly in shock, her doe eyes wide as he makes his way to her, and holy shit, he never really could get over how his name rolled off her tongue so sweetly.

“What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do since the day we met” he said, and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stare at him in awe as goosebumps formed along her tanned skin, melting into his touch as he brought a hand up to her cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb before cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I’m sorry I made all these stupid rules for us, like no cuddling, or keeping us a secret, because the truth is, every time your near, it takes every ounce of my self restraint not to touch you, or not to tell you that every inch of me belongs to you” he says, wrapping one hand around her waist, pressing her body against his, and she prayed he couldn’t feel how fast hear heart was beating right now.

“I only did those things because I was scared of actually letting someone in” he says, finally letting himself breathe as he paused. “Scared of having to admit that I love you, angel”

She grinned like a cheshire cat as he finished his sentence, admiring the way his cheeks blushed with a faint redness as he poured his heart out, and she swung her arms around his neck tightly, never wanting to let go.

“I love you too” she says, before reaching up on her tiptoes and claiming his lips in a gentle kiss.

“You know i would do anything for you, right?” She whispers against his lips, practically breathing the same air as him, and just like that, his signature smirk was back.

“Well in that case, how about you start with taking this flimsy thing off” he says, pulling on the straps of her bikini top, a small giggle leaving her glossy lips as she playfully hit his arm.

“Gross. Please don’t” Topper says, and they both jumped out of their skin as they spotted him in the doorway, arm leant against the wooden frame with a smug look on his face.

“Jesus! How long have you been standing there?”

Oh, baby take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

#obx #outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron fwb #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe x y/n #rafe x female!mc

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percervall · 8 months

Text

your body is my party

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader Words: 655 Request: Carlos Sainz + Ciara - Body Party + smut Warnings: flirting, dirty talk, semi-public sex, fingering

In which Carlos should put his phone down

---

The base of the reggaeton song playing is so loud, you can feel it reverberating in your chest. Had you been sober, you would probably be worried about permanent damage to your hearing, but right now you are one vodka and coke too many away from caring. The only thing on the forefront of your mind is moving your body to the beat of the music and figuring out where your boyfriend has gone. You would swear he was right next to you one second ago. Taking another pull from your drink, you scan the crowd of swaying, sweaty bodies until you spot him sitting at the booth, eyes glued to his phone, beer discarded on the table beside him. Shaking your head, you make your way over.

“Those emails will still be there in the morning,” you shout over the music, fingers sliding up the side of his phone for the lock button. Carlos looks up at you, his dark features turning amused when he sees you grinning at him.

“Lo siento, amor,” he replies, allowing you to pull him up. Giving him a quick kiss, you turn around, his arm over your shoulder and his front pressed to your back as you rejoin the rest of your friends on the dance floor. The tempo changes to a slower song and you can’t help but grind back against him, your hips moving on their own accord. You can feel him smile against your shoulder as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip while the other finds its way higher, right underneath the edge of your crop top. Your breath catches in your throat at his touch, his fingers tightening their hold on your hip. Tilting your head, you grant him better access to your neck, his lips busy marking you –making sure everyone will know you’re his. Reaching a hand back, you take hold of his left asscheek, pulling him even closer to you as you grind against him.

“We’re in public, amor, you need to behave,” Carlos murmurs in your ear followed by a chuckle that has you throbbing. You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your low back as he keeps swaying you in time with the music. Suddenly you wish you were anywhere else but here, a need to feel him where you’re aching for him taking over. You turn in his arms, smiling sweetly as you run your fingers through his hair before tugging ever so slightly.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that baby?”

Carlos can’t help but laugh at that, licking his bottom lip.

“Dime, princessa, do you want me to bend you over the vanity in the bathroom? Or find a dark corner somewhere?” His fingers dip under the hem of your skirt, trailing up the inside of your thigh. It’s impossible to reply to him when you have him so close to where you need him most.

Luckily Carlos decides for you, dragging you into the bathroom of the VIP lounge and locking the door behind you. The silence is deafening now you’re no longer all-consumed by the club music, but that is the last coherent thought you have before Carlos is on you like a man starved. Before you truly comprehend what is happening, Carlos has manoeuvred your body in such a way you’re bent over the vanity, ass in the air, skirt flipped up. You try to brace yourself as he pulls your lace thong to the side, sliding a finger into you.

“So wet already, amor,” he chides you, slowly moving in and out of you. Not being able to stop yourself, you whimper and grind back against his finger.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes locking with his’ in the mirror. He looks positively dishevelled; hair a mess, shirt unbuttoned three buttons more than even acceptable to European standards, and all you want is for him to ruin you.

I had so much fun writing this! As soon as I listened to the song, I had this visual and wrote this in one sitting. Hope it was worth waiting for Jojo!

Please let me know what you think, your comments, tags, and likes mean the absolute world to me 💜

#f1 fanfic #carlos sainz jr smut #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #mar's playlist

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months

Text

Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-

It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.

A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.

The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.

"What are they doing in here...."

"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."

"Freak."

They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....

Hic....hic...

Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.

"Are....are you okay?"

The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."

They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."

"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."

"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"

"You can try..."

"Great! Repeat after me."

The clown clears their throat as they kneel.

"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.

The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"

"When I'm feeling lonely...."

"Or think I just might frown."

"I think a thought that means a lot."

"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"

They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."

"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."

"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."

"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"

They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.

"Come on, Come on!"

The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.

"Wait... please... I can't...."

"We're here!"

Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.

"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."

"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"

The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"

The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.

"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."

"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."

They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.

"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"

The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.

"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere #yandere blurb #clown reader #yandere drabble

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months

Note

hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe

thank u so much! have an awesome day!

life's no fun without a good scare

summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!

note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!

“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”

“What’re those tubs over there?”

“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor.

“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What time did he tell you?”

“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question.

“And what time is it now?”

“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”

“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”

“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”

“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.”

“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene.

“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.

“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”

“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.”

“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”

“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”

“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try.

“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”

“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you.

“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”

“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”

“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”

“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.”

“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“You know you love it.”

A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide.

Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected.

Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area.

“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”

“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company.

“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”

“I’ll just make simple doors!”

“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze.

In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster.

“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?”

“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”

“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”

“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”

“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”

“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”

“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?”

“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced.

“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.”

“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold.

“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–”

“Found you.”

Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther.

“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs.

“What?!”

“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet.

“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”

“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile.

“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”

“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”

“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go.

“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”

“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #ask iris!

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murdockparker · 7 days

Text

Promises, Promises

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Five years is a long time to be together, Peter knew that. Peter also knew that everything was expensive—but he had an idea. A little juvenile, sure, but it was an idea regardless.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of sex (no smut), reader is a nerd, Star Wars hot take?

A/N: I haven't written for Peter in a hot second, but I'm glad to get back into the swing of things ;) i'll see myself out now

An old pop song blasted through the small shop, possibly from the eighties or nineties, it was hard to decipher, given that the boombox playing the song was probably older than she was.

“Do you need more toilet paper?” She asked across the aisle, hoping someone would answer back—a certain someone in particular.

“Nah,” she could see a mop of brown shake from over the packages, “I just bought some last week.”

“Peter, if you’re lying to me and you’re out of toilet paper again I swear on all that is holy—”

“Babe,” Peter said softly, peaking around the corner, “trust me. It’s not gonna be like last time.”

“Oh? You mean the time I was stranded on your toilet while you ran out to buy some more?” She nearly had laughed at the memory, but decided against it, having far more fun antagonizing her boyfriend. “That last time?”

He went positively crimson, from his neck to his ears. He always looked good in red, she thought, but she liked this red the best. “I am one thousand percent positive—I think I still have the receipt in my back pocket.”

“You said you bought some last week though? You haven’t washed those jeans yet?”

Peter shrugged. “I haven’t worn these that many times since last week…”

She laughed at that, pulling a bag of chips off of the shelf. Changing her mind, she pulled another as well—her favorite and his favorite. “Okay pretty boy, I believe you. I also believe we’ll be making a stop to the laundromat tonight, too.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?” Peter groaned, grabbing the snacks from her and holding them close. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Obviously you haven’t been in the mood for a week,” she rolled her eyes. “But sure, we can go tomorrow. Tonight, we feast like twelve year olds and binge our favorite movies.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Peter sighed, leaning up against the shelf, eyes locked on her. “A pretty girl willing to watch Star Wars, eat cheese puffs and date me?”

“Don’t forget the hot, hot sex you’ll have with the pretty girl after,” she winked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Speaking of—”

“Restocked those too,” Peter said proudly. “Bought them with the toilet paper—could show you the receipt if you want. Bet you’re glad I held onto it, right?”

She pushed him away, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I take the offer of sex back, I’m still not over those dirty jeans.”

“I’ll shower!”

“Just buy the snacks,” she laughed, shoving him towards the cashier. “I’ll rethink my offer in the meantime.”

“Aye aye, boss,” Peter saluted, turning hot on his heels to the front. She couldn’t help but smile, watching him laugh with the bodega owner, pulling crumpled bills out of his pockets and pressing them against the counter. There was hardly anything that Peter Parker could do that she didn’t find endearing—find something to smile about.

“Local news tonight, late last night in Manhattan, our favorite web slinger was seen assisting with directing traffic during the power surge,” a reporter on the T.V. in the corner of the store announced, the screen showed Spider-Man waving traffic along, webbing a car to stop before it crashed into another oncoming vehicle. “Local authorities showed up minutes later to take over, sans-webs.”

“Huh,” she clicked, feeling her smile grow wider. “He's been spending time in Manhattan?”

“Spider-Man gets around town,” Peter shrugged, finally returning beside his girlfriend, their purchases in white plastic bags. “Can’t always stay in Queens, can he?”

“Helps if Spider-Man goes to school in Manhattan, no?” She teased quietly, elbowing Peter lovingly.

“He had time after class,” his voice matched her own, low and slow, opening the door and finally walking out onto the street. “What? Was he expected to let everyone crash their cars while the stoplights went out?”

“No,” she hummed, noticing quickly how Peter took the outside of their strides, closest to the street. He always did that. The notion warmed her heart, the feeling flooding to her toes. “Good thing he was there to help out. I’m sure the police were thankful.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay,” she conceded, head falling onto his shoulder. “Yeah, that was dumb to say.”

The rest of the walk was silent, as silent as it could get in New York City, anyhow. Comfortable, the beats of the city passing by with every step towards Peter’s apartment, hands intertwined with the other. Occasionally, he’d tug her back and stop her from stepping into the street, clearly knowing she’s not paying attention to the changing pedestrian signs. She’d squeeze his hand back in thanks.

“Have you thought more about moving in?” Peter asked, trying his best to unlock the door to his apartment, wrists heavy from the bags. “Y’know, I’m sure I can get you added to the lease if I asked.”

“Thought about it,” she hummed, gently taking the bags from him. “I just… your place is a bit small.”

“What?” He scoffed, finally pushing the door open and allowing her to enter. “You’re saying this luxurious suite is too small?”

It was comical, the timing of his statement. She could hardly turn her neck and she’d get a full view of Peter’s apartment—minus the bathroom. He could only afford a studio, and even then it was bursting at the seams, with all of his school work, his work work and his ‘unofficial’ work work, the place was a mess. He tried his best to keep it tidy, he really did. It was never filthy, just overrun by stuff.

“Babe, you’re growing out of your own space,” she laughed, double checking she locked the door behind them—it had a habit of sticking. “How’d you think I’d fit in here?”

“Preferably on my lap, or in my bed,” he smirked. “But… yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a little cramped.”

“It’s not that I don’t love you, or love spending time here,” (Y/N) clarified. “Hell, you’d think after all these years I’d have moved on if that was the case.”

“Has it been that long?” He asked rhetorically, opening the bags in the kitchen—if you could call it that.

“I won’t even pretend to act insulted you’ve forgotten how long we’ve been together, Parker.”

“Time flies when you’re in love,” Peter nearly sings. “Five years is a long time, feels like just yesterday I was nervously asking you out.”

“I asked you out,” she corrected. “I know, I know, five years and a hell of a lot of brain damage from crime fighting can make you misremember—”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I distinctly remember sliding a note in your locker between classes. Super cute, very sappy, I might add.”

She hopped up on his counter, with what little space he had free, anyway. “Did you? You seem to be forgetting how I pulled you aside after science class and, very confidently, I might add, asked you out for milkshakes after school.”

“That was the day I left you the note,” Peter blinked. “I just assumed you read it and were moving the process along.”

“Wait,” she barked a laugh. “I thought you left the note after I asked you out?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’. “Left it for you that morning, chemistry wasn’t until after lunch.”

“Huh,” she breathed, shoulders deflating. “I guess we both asked each other out on the same day.”

“Can’t believe it took us five years to figure that out,” Peter laughed, patting her thigh.

“Knowing us? I’m surprised it didn’t take us ten.”

Ten years.

Ten years with her.

The thought alone made Peter buzz with happiness.

“We’re both pretty smart people,” Peter squeaked out, fighting his own body, hoping and praying a childish blush won’t give him away. “We would’ve figured it out before then.”

“I dunno, seems unlikely,” she opened a bag of chips, impatient to start their evening. “What are we starting with tonight? Phantom Menace?”

“We started with Phantom Menace last time, chronological order,” he scrunched his nose. “I think we should go by release order this weekend, just to shake things up.”

“Okay, nerd,” she said, her voice filled with affection. Hopping off the counter, she walked towards his couch. “I’ll go get A New Hope set up, then. You plate the snacks.”

“I’ll pull out my finest china,” Peter said. He opened the cabinets to find two bowls, one for each of the bags of chips. They were mismatched and two totally different sizes, but they were free from the old neighbors, so he made do.

“Y’know, I don’t think the debate between release order versus chronological order is all that great,” (Y/N) said, mostly to herself. “I mean, there’s a thousand other things Star Wars fans can get caught up in arms in, but the order in which to watch the movies? Oh no, someone man the Reddit boards! What a crock of shit. It doesn’t matter anyway, they’re all good movies.”

He chuckled, clearly amused by his girlfriend’s rant. “All of them? That’s a controversial opinion.”

“If I had a good time watching it, it was a good movie,” (Y/N) said simply. “Not everyone’s a critic.”

“Clearly.”

“Do you not agree?”

“I agreed the last time we had this conversation,” Peter droned, though not bored in the slightest. “Though, I will admit, I was perhaps a bit distracted, on account of your nakedness.”

“Our pillow talk gets heated,” she said, no hint of shame in her voice. “Only intellectual conversations afterwards, to ground us and all after… everything.”

“Because the sex is that good?”

“Because the sex is that good,” she agreed.

“Maybe I should plan that shower soon,” he grinned, walking over to his loving girlfriend. “Delay our marathon…”

“I didn’t walk all the way here just for sex, you know,” (Y/N) hummed, the couch shifting at Peter’s added weight. “An added bonus, for sure, but I came here to pig out and watch silly little movies set in space with my pretty boyfriend.”

“Pretty boyfriend?”

“The prettiest,” she giggled, slipping a kiss to the tip of his nose. It’s not her fault he has such a kissable face—lips, cheeks, nose, wherever. “Big doe eyes, loads of freckles, smoochy cheeks—”

“Which ones?”

A pillow—one she had bought him months ago—met his face with a quick thump. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly smoochable,” Peter giggled, feeling lighter than air. “You said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice all thick and lovey, “I know.”

Peter looked at her like she held the world in her hands, sitting beside him on his old couch—one that they had both moved up the stairs together two years ago—he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Everything was right in the world, everything was right in his heart.

“Are you gonna press play?”

He shook his head a bit, dumping his lovesick thoughts out of his ears. “Oh! Yeah, right. The movie.”

She pulled a blanket up on them, snuggling closer to Peter as the opening fanfare begun to play. With the text scrolling on the screen, one he hardly needed to read to know what it said given his near-memorization of the film, he felt at peace.

—

Mindlessly scrolling on his phone, it was usually how he spent his mornings, to wake himself up. He knew about the studies with blue light and stimulation of that sort of activity and wakefulness—having heard it enough from the party beside him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Apartment listings.

She was right, his studio was too small for the both of them, and it was only fitting if they were going to start a life together—living with one another—that they had ample space. Besides, they were graduating within the year anyhow, so location wasn’t terribly important. In the city would be nice, given his… other occupation, but he could get used to living outside of Manhattan again. It was quieter, usually, and only by a small percent. Cheaper, too. Thank God for his scholarships, he wouldn’t have made it very far without them.

She stirred next to him, pulling his comforter mostly off of him. He didn’t need it right now, anyway. Not when she was sleeping so soundly. He craved these weekends, when they both had a break from school and work—most of the time anyway. Peter Parker knew in his heart of hearts that he needed this every day. Perhaps forever.

Forever.

That seemed so out of reach five years ago, but now? Peter simply couldn’t see a life without her in it. With their hectic schedules, his being all-encompassing, marriage was out of the question, at least for a few years. That’s why the apartment was so important to him, a piece of forever within their grasp.

“Maybe…” Peter sighed, clicking his phone off, afraid to breathe louder than necessary.

She didn’t seem to wake, anyhow.

—

“Why do weekends here go by so fast?”

“At the laundromat?”

(Y/N) gave him a knowing glance. “Yes, Pete, weekends fly by here at the laundromat.”

“Come on,” Peter laughed, stacking his jeans—fresh out of the dryer. “It’s not so bad. They have those magazines you like.”

“Magazines from years ago—”

“There was that one from the eighties you found two months ago,” Peter pointed. “Stuck under one of the dryers?”

She smiled at the memory. “True. That was kinda fun. Seeing all the dated hairstyles and outfits was a treat. But you knew what I meant, use that big brain of yours.”

“It probably has something to do with the fact we like spending time with one another,” Peter began, patting the top of his laundry pile. “Y’know, makes the time go by faster.”

“Maybe,” she sighed. “I mean, logically, that’s probably the answer.”

“Logically? As opposed to illogically?”

“I could shove a sock down your throat right now, Parker,” she said seriously, holding up a balled up blue sock of his. “No one here would stop me. So cut it out with the smart ass-ness.”

Peter snorted a laugh. “Such a scary girlfriend I have, threatening me with socks.”

“Maybe instead of kryptonite like Superman, your weakness is socks? I need to capitalize on that venture before anyone else does,” she said, throwing the sock into the laundry basket. “Once I crack that code, I can sell it to all the big baddies of New York.”

“And maybe with all of the money you make, we could invest in a place for us,” Peter said.

“A house on the water,” she said dreamily. “Four bedrooms, an office—maybe one for both of us? Oh! An open kitchen sounds nice too, one with stone counters and fancy wood cabinets—real wood, not particle board. One of those farmhouse sinks?”

“If you share Spider-Man’s one weakness to all the big baddies of New York, don’t you think you’d have a hard time sharing a life with him after?” Peter asked, the sounds of the machines drowning out their conversation well enough. They practically had the whole place to themselves anyway, it seemed safe enough to talk about. “You know, considering that the spider is likely dead?”

“Hm…” she tapped her chin. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“We could start with an apartment, first,” Peter chuckled, throwing bits of his laundry basket into the washer. “I was looking at listings—”

“I thought you wanted me to move into your place?”

“We need a place of our own,” Peter said. “You were right, my studio isn’t going to cut it, and I want to spend more time together. Our weekends are the best time of the week, and any night I spend with you is a night where I actually get some semblance of sleep—for the most part, anyway.”

The entire laundromat lit up, Peter was certain her smile was the culprit.

“You were looking at listings?” She asked shyly, digging through the basket to help Peter load the washer.

“Most of it was out of our budget,” he admitted, “but it was a start.”

She hummed in agreement. “We’ll look together tonight, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” Peter grinned. “Oh! Could you double check my pockets? I keep forgetting change and stuff in them.”

“What about old receipts?” (Y/N) giggled, obliging to his request. She pulled a pair of khakis out of the basket, gingerly fishing her hand in the pockets. “I think I’m entitled to any change I find, Parker.”

“You can have whatever you find,” Peter agreed, his voice a little shaky.

Turning the back pockets inside out, she found nothing in the first pair, throwing it unceremoniously into the washer. With a bit more haste, she rifled through the second pair—the pair she had bought him a while back. Her fingers came across something round and cool. Change, it had to be.

“I think I just became twenty five cents richer,” she laughed, pulling the item out of the pocket, expecting a quarter. Instead, it was a smooth ring, delicate and without any stones, but still elegant. “What…?”

“It’s not a house on the water,” Peter started, looking down at the ring in her hands. “It’s also not a new apartment, but it’s a start, right?”

“Peter Parker, if you’re proposing to me in a laundromat—”

“It’s also not a proposal,” he corrected, “I’m gonna get you a better ring for that, I promise. Besides, it’s not very romantic here, is it?”

She looked up at him, his eyes staring into her own. Big and beautiful, that’s what she always thought of his eyes. Like they held the answer to every question in the universe, and in a way, they did. “It’s a promise ring?”

He shrugged, his ears growing a bit pink. “When you say it like that it sounds a little… middle school, but in a way, yeah, it is a promise ring.”

“Girls my age are expecting engagement rings,” she said, looking back down at the ring in her hand. It was her size, she didn’t even need to try it on to know it. How did he figure out her ring size?

“I promise baby,” Peter stepped towards her, grabbing her hand, closing her fingers around the ring. “I’m gonna get you that ring. I just thought it’d be nice to have something to wear on your finger in the meantime—before we do real adult things like move in together. A-and this way, you can help me pick out your real engagement ring! I have a really good idea of what you like, but I don’t ever want you to look down at your hand and thing ‘man, I wish Peter chose this instead of this’, you know?”

“Honey,” (Y/N) said, looking back up at him. “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m nervous.”

She chuckled. “How do you expect yourself to actually propose if you can hardly give me a promise ring?”

“Hadn’t thought that far,” Peter shook his head. “But it’s for you, I’m willing to do anything for you.”

He meant that.

She knew he meant that.

“Am I supposed to put it on myself?”

Peter quickly scrambled to open her hand to grab the ring from her, nearly dropping the thing. “You want to wear it?”

“My boyfriend got me a pre-engagement ring,” she nearly rolled her eyes. “You expect me not to wear it?”

He pushed the ring onto her left hand, fourth finger. Peter gently lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly. “I promise, you’ll get a better ring from me one day. S-soon! Like, as soon as I have the money, I swear to it, honestly.”

“Pete,” she placed her now-ring-clad hand on his face.

“Right,” his shoulders deflated, “rambling. Sorry.”

She kissed his cheek. “It’s all very sweet and very you, Peter Parker. I love it.”

A dryer alarm buzzed, startling the both of them. “You do?”

“Well, I love you, and that’s enough,” (Y/N) smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of wearing a ring you got me—and the idea of helping you pick out the real thing? That basically sold the idea for me.”

“You’d say yes if I asked?”

“I agreed to your pre-engagement engagement ring, did I not? You’re not losing me that easily, Peter. I’m gonna hold out for the real thing.”

“We’ll go ring shopping as soon as we find a place,” Peter said seriously. “Move in, graduate, all that.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“A lot,” Peter agreed. “Sometimes it helps to fill the time when I’m swinging around town. I usually am thinking about you, anyway, anytime of day.”

“That’s so crazy,” she said, voice teetering on sarcastic. “Because I’m usually thinking about you, too.”

“Pretty crazy,” he smiled, pulling her into him. With careful hands, he lifted her face towards his, a silent invitation. One she was more than happy to respond to.

Kissing Peter Parker was one of life’s greatest pleasures, she was sure of it. Granted, she had really never kissed anyone else, high school sweethearts and all of that, but she knew it really couldn’t get better than this. The slightly chapped kisses, the way he would lick his lips when they parted, how he would nip at her bottom lip in protest if she thought about stopping the kiss too soon—it was all perfect. Of course, kissing in a slightly shady laundromat was a bit of a turn off.

“Pete,” she said, pulling back.

“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He nearly begged, holding her against him a bit tighter.

“I can’t be your girlfriend,” she said seriously. “I mean, not with this flashy new ring and all—seems a bit juvenile with that title, no?”

“What do you suggest?”

“Partners,” she shrugged, feeling him pepper kisses against her cheek, her nose. “It seems more grown up, anyway. Now, when I go into class or work and they comment on my ring I can say, ‘oh, my partner got me that’.”

“Babe, I’m your partner in anything,” he laughed, pressing his forehead against her own. “If you’d like to change our terms of endearment—I’m all aboard.”

“It’d only be for a short while, anyway,” (Y/N) said, smirking against his lips, capturing them in another kiss. “Then I can call you my fiancé…”

“Romantic.”

“Then my husband,” she teased.

“Oh I do like the sound of that,” Peter nodded. “(Y/N) Parker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“What about Peter (Y/L/N)?” (Y/N) asked, quirking her brow. “You could be progressive.”

“We could hyphenate?”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Parker is a fine last name. A little basic, but perfectly suitable.”

“We’re kinda basic people, are we not?” Peter chuckled.

“Let me just go and ask your friend Spider-Man that,” she said seriously. “I’m sure he’d disagree?”

“Oh, speaking of!” Peter stepped away from her. “I need to wash… well, y’know—”

“It’s already soaking in the sink back at your place,” she said simply. “Trying to get all the dried blood off of it and all.”

Peter’s eyes nearly melted in affection. “What would I ever do without you?”

She smiled back in kind, a lovesick sort of way. “Not your laundry, that’s for sure. Come on, Parker, we’ve gotta finish this load. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go home.”

A rogue ray of sunlight hit her new ring just right, making the band shine brightly against her hand as she continued to throw his dirty clothing into the washing machine. “Yeah, let’s finish this up,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #spider-man #marvel x reader #spider-man imagines #it works for any peter I promise!!#mcu peter parker #tasm peter parker

151 notes · View notes

gimmeurtmi · 1 year

Text

routine — seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

tags: getting together, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dry humping, making out, messing around over clothes, shy!reader turned brave, bestie han for a minute, cheesy ending bc i couldn’t help myself, unspecified relationship

inspo: requested by anon! Humbly requests dry humping with Seungmin👀

notes: some of you might’ve noticed kim seungmin has captured me in his spell. this is the first of many minnie fics i have to write to deal with my feelings. thank you. rbs and feedback are much appreciated 🫶🏻

{ wc: 2462 }

Your routine with Seungmin was quite simple. You’d come over to the dorm when the other boys were busy and get to spend some time alone with him. He usually put something on the TV—a reality contest about singers, but he never watched the episodes chronologically, so singers would disappear and reappear every time you watched another one. Sometimes he’d watch the finale before the auditions.

You thought it was crazy, but the truth was you weren’t there to watch the singing competition with him.

You were there to spend time with your crush.

After watching two episodes he’d order some food (almost always getting you the pork belly you liked) and then you two would eat.

Then you’d talk about things. He’d share the troubles he had at work and you’d share your stresses and then he’d crack a joke or two and then you talked about happier things and without fail, his head would end up in your lap as you played with his wonderful hair.

Once the silence settled around the pair of you, Seungmin would stretch, yawn, and ask you if he could kiss you.

He’d kiss you for a few minutes, softly, and then he’d ask if it was time for you to head home since it was getting late.

The routine was like clockwork.

And like clockwork, Seungmin would ignore the kisses you shared once they were done.

You did complain about the situation to your best friend, Jisung, who sadly was also Seungmin’s best friend. All Jisung had to say was, “but you like him, how is this bad?”

“Because I want more than dinner and some pecks,” you whined.

“Okay. So initiate that,” he shrugged back at you.

“I can’t,” you helpfully explained.

“He’s a coward,” Jisung said simply as he took another spoonful of ice cream, “he’s obviously too scared to start something. So if you want more just do it. What happened to girls can make the first move?”

“Girls can,” you took another bite of the ice cream you were sharing with Jisung, “but I can’t.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“You’re so good at advice, I’m so happy I picked you as my best friend,”

Jisung grinned at you, his cheeks full of ice cream.

“He likes you, he wants to be with you, and with the little schedule you have going on he gets that. Why would he risk it?” Was Jisung actually offering you advice? “If you want more then put on your big girl pants and start something.”

“What I want is to take off my—“

“—no! Don’t wanna hear that!”

You grinned at your best friend before you got back to your ice cream. Perhaps he was right.

Next time you saw Seungmin you decided the only way to get a different result would be to break the routine.

As the first episode of the show started you brought your hand in between your bodies. Slowly, you crawled your pinky across the sofa until it touched his hand.

Seungmin did not react at all.

In fact, he remained frozen for the rest of the contestant's song—only reacting when he rolled his eyes at the judge’s praise.

“That guy is biased,” he started, “that wasn’t a good cover, it sounded like karaoke.”

“You should be a judge on one of these shows,” you said, finally gathering the courage to link your fingers together.

Seungmin hummed.

“Maybe when we disband and I—“

“—Ahhhh la la laa!”

He squeezed your hand, a chuckle on his tongue. “what?”

“You’re not allowed to say that word!”

He laughed, his eyes disappearing under his bangs. “Okay.”

You held hands through the whole episode, Seungmin’s thumb rubbing against your palm in rhythm with the songs playing. You liked that a lot.

And then, after you finished the food and telling him all about your big fight with your mum, his head was in your lap again.

You ran your finger through his hair.

It was quiet.

Only this time you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You had to break the routine. That was the only way. He was going to ask to kiss you and you would say no. You’d say you wanted more. Yes, that was the plan.

“Hey, pretty?” That was different.

You hummed.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Since when do you call me pretty?”

“Since when do you hold my hand?” He asked right back. The hand that wasn’t playing with his hair was resting by his head, and Seungmin had reached out for it and laced your fingers together.

“I dunno,” you mumbled, “I just wanted to.”

“It’s not bad, I like holding your hand,” he looked up at you with a smile, squeezing your hand.

You smiled to yourself, brushing his bangs into his eyes.

“I liked it too,” you said. Seungmin hummed.

The silence took its turn again.

“So.. about that kiss?”

“Oh, uh,” you started.

As soon as something other than ‘yes’ left your lips, Seungmin lifted his head from your lap. He turned to you, eyes wide, waiting for you to say something.

You were still holding hands but one of you had started to sweat and both your palms were now incredibly warm.

“Um, yeah,” you said after a few moments.

“Um, yeah?” He repeated, eyes squinting at you.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about something,” you nodded, “I’m here now.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He offered, almost getting back into position for Phase Three. But you were ready now for Phase Five.

“No, let’s kiss instead.”

So there went your plan to say no. But maybe you already changed too much today—holding hands was a great start and you can just build more from there.

Seungmin brought his hand to your jaw, pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours.

You let his soft lips take control, like you always did, following his lead and asking for nothing more. He pressed his lips against yours once and then twice, and then he pulled away.

Before you even thought of opening your eyes you leaned forward—kissing him again, pulling him back towards you.

Seungmin reacted instantly, bringing his hand to your waist to keep you this close to him.

You moved against each other, your mind taken over by how soft his lips were.

You moved your hand to his jaw, feeling the way it flexed as he opened his mouth, experimentingly moving his tongue against yours. You hummed, brushing your thumb against his cheek.

When you pushed against him more, trying to get him to lay down he pulled away.

His pupils were blown as he looked at you up and down before his eyes settled on your lips.

“We should keep going,” he said, breathing heavily, “we should definitely do more of that.”

“Then why did you stop, Minnie?”

“The boys are gonna be back in like twenty minutes,” he groaned.

“So? That’s a very long time,” you smiled up at him, massaging your fingers against his scalp.

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s not enough time.”

“Enough? For what?” You asked, hopefully.

“I don’t want us to get carried away and for the boys to see you in a position you don’t want to be seen in,” he explained. You didn’t quite understand.

Well, you did. You just wanted him to say it clearly.

“What kind of position?” You kissed his cheek. When he said nothing you kept kissing him, down his jaw, down his neck, settling on a spot that made him sigh.

You sucked on his skin, grinning to yourself when he let out a groan and squeezed your hips in response. You took that as a sign to keep going.

“Pretty,” he sighed softly.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, licking over the now red spot you created.

“Don’t start something I can’t finish.” It sounded like a warning.

“And who said you can’t finish it?”

“Seventeen minutes isn’t enough,” he said simply.

“Do you always count the minutes before you kick me out?” You chuckled at him.

“No,” he countered, making the sound longer, “I count the minutes until I inevitably need to stop so they don’t come in when we’re in the middle of something.”

You shook your head at his logic. “We could just go to your room and close the door, you know.”

Seungmin looked at you with wide eyes.

Instead of saying anything else—because you made your thoughts pretty clear, you’d say—you leaned forward, grabbing his chin and tilting it upwards, enough to allow you to pepper kisses around his skin. His collarbone peaked out from his oversized shirt collar, the perfect place to plant endless kisses like you always wanted to.

When you pulled away from his skin, both his hands were cupping your head, one in your hair and one on your cheek—pulling you back towards his lips eagerly.

He kissed you with an urgency you’ve never felt from him before.

Your tongues moved against each other as the pair of you gasped, Seungmin’s hands pulling your waist even closer to him, practically dragging you over the couch.

“We have twelve minutes, Minnie,” you teased him with a smirk, pulling away slightly to catch your breath.

But he didn’t react to that. Instead, he used the opportunity to kiss down your neck.

“I’m not stopping,” was all he said, biting your skin before he started sucking on it.

“No one told you to stop,” you sighed as a tingle ran down your neck and towards your spine.

Seungmin bit the skin one more time before he faced you again, his lips wet and shiny as he kissed you for a moment.

Then he stood up. His sweats did very little to conceal the way all this affected him, and you felt a heat spread between your legs when he caught you staring at him.

He offered his hand to you and you quickly took it, standing up and following him to his room.

You’ve never been in his room before except for one other time. You were cold and he told you to just grab the first hoodie you see. That took you about three seconds and you never stepped foot in his room again.

Now, Seungmin locked the door behind him.

You easily laid onto the bed, settling yourself on the pillows as Seungmin climbed on top of you.

He rubbed his thumb in circles against your cheek as he smiled at you, licking his lips. “Hey, pretty.”

“Hey,” you smiled back.

“Can I kiss you?”

You giggled at him, rolling your eyes. “Can you please do more than that already?”

His eyes gleamed at you. “Desperate, are we?”

“Like you’re not fully hard right now?” You shot back.

Seungmin laughed, and then rolled his eyes, and before he could say whatever smug retort was on his lips you pushed your hips up and rubbed against his crotch.

He gasped.

“Yeah, what was that?” You smirked at him.

“Shut up,” he dismissed.

You decided he definitely didn’t have any right to tease you, and so you grabbed his hips and pushed him down—his body meeting yours.

His eyes fluttered shut.

You were going to say something cheeky, he knew, so instead he kissed you as you rolled his hips against yours.

Seungmin hadn’t made a move to take any of your clothes off, or his, but his hips were moving against yours in the best way.

At one point you heard the front door open, and Seungmin pulled away from you, but you quickly grabbed his face and ran your tongue across his lips.

“I don’t care that they’re here, just keep going,” you said in between gasps.

He listened, and quickly got back to kissing you as he dragged his body against yours. You moved up to meet his thrusts, moaning into the kiss as he bumped against your sensitive bud.

You were gasping, grabbing at his arms, doing anything you could to get him closer to you.

And he did everything he could to get you to make those beautiful noises again.

He ran his hands all over you, not even sure where to touch first now that he was touching you. He moved from squeezing your thighs to your arms to your waist to running up and down your stomach until he was brave enough to crawl his hand under your shirt and all the way up to your breasts.

You were wearing one of your bralettes today, which made it much easier for him to simply run his thumb against your bra until he got a reaction from you.

You moaned softly as he rubbed your nipple with a smirk.

“What are you getting cocky about?” You asked, breatheless.

“Just… that I can drive you crazy with minimal effort.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna cum from this, if that’s what’s getting you excited,” you said, bucking your hips up involentarily.

“Who said I’m trying to make you cum?”

You whined at his words, and Seungmin had to remind you the boys were home now, so he licked into your mouth again to keep you quiet.

It was fifteen minutes before midnight when Seungmin pulled away, placing his face in your neck and kissing it lightly as you both caught your breaths.

You had no idea you were going for that long, but you knew your panties were ruined from having soaked through them and that there was a stain on the front of Seungmin’s sweats from where he was leaking.

He ran his hands up and down your sides as you both just breathed.

“Do you need to go home?” He asked, like he always does. But this time it sounded more like a child asking if he had to go to bed and stop playing with his favourite friend.

“Maybe in a bit?” You offered.

Seungmin rubbed circles into your stomach where your shirt was scrunched up your middle. He kissed your cheek.

“Don’t want you to go yet, pretty.”

You ran your hand up his back and then down again, matching the pace of his fingers on your skin. “I hate when you go.”

“You’re the one who kicks me out every time,” you smiled.

“Yeah, but I told you why. I need to stop myself because now I don’t want you to ever leave. I just wanna do this for hours.”

“And what makes you think I don’t want to do this for hours, too?”

Seungmin picked his head up, looking at you bewildered. As if you just told him the most magnificent secret. “I’m…. not sure.”

“So…. can we keep doing this for hours?”

Seungmin didn’t answer, instead brought your lips together and kissed you for an undetermined amount of minutes. Or maybe hours.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #all.works #skz x y/n #skz smut #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #seungmin #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skz fics

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victorie552 · 3 months

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Ok, so Noldolantë, "The Fall of the Noldor" is a lament composed by Maglor about what happened before, during and after First Kinslaying at Alqualondë. It's such a good song that it's played regularly in Aman and Valar listen to it often (I swear, I swear it was in the Silmarillion I just can't find it now).

It's also a more or less common fanon that Maglor continues writing Noldolante through the whole First Age. Makes sense - it's about fall of the Noldor, and Noldor did a lot of falling back then.

Headcannon time: So my first thought was that Noldolante must a long, long, long epic of a song. So it probably has many parts, right? Iliad has 24 books/parts, somehow I think Noldolante would be at least just as long, and there are longer epics. And again, just like Iliad, unless you're a scholar, in the daily life you don't really listen to/read the whole thing, just reread and repeat the most dramatic fragments. What I'm trying to impress upon you all is that the story would have different segments, or chapters, if you will.

And if Maglor continues to write the story during the FA, there would absolutely be a moment in the lament where the OG Noldolante becomes Noldolante 2, and even Noldolante 3. There may be the same musical motif or something, I decided that Maglor IS that good of a bard to keep it all consistent enough so you know it's all the same story, but the style changes a lot - it's been 400 years in the making, let The Music Elf have fun!

So, Point 1: Many, Many Parts, basically Maglor's FA WIP

My second thought was that, while Feanor invented his alphabet, elves learned their history mostly through oral tradition aka songs and spoken stories. Noldolante is definitely a historical record, where a historical event was archived for future generations.

(It was a also a way to deal with grief, guilt and blame Maglor and all Noldor have faced regarding First Kinslaying - free therapy! But that's not what this post is about)

Archived.

My 2.5 thought was that Noldolante isn't just recallings of how pretty and horrified the beach looked during the murdering or how mad and sorrowful the sea was at everyone during the voyage or even how awesome and charismatic Feanor looked during his speeches that every single Noldo was ready to fight Morgoth barehanded in his name - no, this is a record of who killed who, who got killed by whom, and how.

Noldor and Teleri knew each other (were friends, even!) before the First Kinslaying, so I'm confident that after a lot of interviews, detective work, and cross-referencing, Maglor could and would create a very good... name list. Practically every Noldo and Teler present during First Kinslaying would get a stanza in a song, more if he killed someone, most if he killed many people. Killers and killed would show up twice, first in a fragment listing the killers and their victims, then in a part listing the victims and their murderers. Basically it's the same thing twice, but from different POVs. With when, where and how included.

(It was seen to be in bad taste to compare kills during Maglor's Regency, when most of his interview-part work happened. People did it anyway. There were a Saddest Kill, Funniest Kill, and Weirdest Kill discusions. There was a Tier List. These were weird times to be a Feanorian Noldo.)

(It WAS in Bad Taste, but at least people talked about it. I cannot stress enough how much free therapy this lament provided)

(Little did they know, when Teleri started getting reembodied in Aman, they had very similar discussions, but more in a "I can't believe he killed me like THAT" way. Long, long, long after the First Age. Noldolante is a gift that keeps giving)

So, Maglor had all the historical grith and no common shame to create a "We Killed All These People And We Feel Bad About It" banger of a song, and every Noldo had a very personal reason to at least remember the fragments they are in. It's a hit on a scale never seen before.

(I'm not sure how to tackle the issue of Nolofinweans and Arafinweans learning about Noldolante after crossing the Ice. But there were discussions. There was anger, there was "????", there was controversy. Basically, the song got bigger and bigger rep no matter what your opinion on it was. By the time of Mereth Aderthad it was an important cultural and political piece and at least Fingon's forces were included in the main song. It had parodies.)

Point 2: Archive Function/Kill count storage. Cultural phenomen, every Noldo included

This is where my personal nonsense begins: Main Noldolante was done, there was nothing more to say about First Kinslaying, all killings and deaths were well documented.

But the Siege started. And the Noldor kept dying.

It was less dramatic than it sounded - between the big battles the siege was maintained, but orc raids also happened and sometimes one to few Noldor died in skirmishes. The legal procedure was to document the death of a fellow elf and send a word to king Fingolfin. The cultural procedure, technically started by Feranorians but adapted by many more, was to send the name, common characteristics and cause of death to Maglor's Gap. After few months, King Fingolfin would send reinforcements, short condolences and financial compensation if they had family. After few months, family of an elf would also receive a personal lament for them and a place for them in a Noldolante.

Yes, every lament Maglor created in that time was technically part of the Noldolante. Noldolante 1.5, if you will. Laments make in that time were very customized, and simpler than Noldolante Main, but were still considered a part of the same song. Of course, nobody was expected to know and remember laments for every single Noldo, younger Noldor born in Beleriand could even only know fragments about their family members. Only Maglor would ever know Noldolante in full, but it was understood that everyone had their place in The Song.

The results of Great Battles were harder to document, but Maglor did that. Of course, Dagor Bragollach was hard on him personally, but he worked his way through.

(High King Fingon forbade creating laments for his father. There were no songs for Fingolfin. Apart from in Noldolante, of course. Of course. Maglor did not share the lament with anyone, but he sat long hours and many nights with a blank paper before him, looking at the candle flame and thinking of the past and the future. The song unsung, but there)

Nirnaeth was... Maglor was never more hated and more approached at the same time than then. Still, Noldolante grew and grew, as if people knew the end was near.

It was Second Kinslaying that destroyed the myth of Maglor's song. Feanorians didn't know the Sindar they killed, but surely, they couldn't just left their names unmentioned like they did with orcs? So, Noldor talked, but the battle happened in caves - it wasn't uncommon to find dead bodies in empty rooms, with no witnesses to what happened. Surviving Sindar didn't want to share any names, even when Maglor strong-armed some into talking with him, and good for them. Maglor made a big lament anyway. Maglor, wild, with no shame and dead brothers, with legacy crumbling around him. Noldolante, with holes.

After Third Kinslaying, Noldor didn't want to talk. Lament for Sirion didn't have any names. Clearly, songs weren't a way to go anymore, it was always about live witnesses. And so Maglor raised the twins.

Lament for Maedhros was sung repeatedly. There was no one to hear it.

Point 3: Only Maglor knows Noldolante in full. But that doesn't matter, because everyone knows the important part: the Noldolante is finished. The Star of Hope rises in the West and the story goes on. The Fall has ended.

#silm #silmarillion #noldolante #maglor #yet another post that went in different direction than I planned #started with meta went into headcannon and ended with fanfic angst #I wanted to end it with crack!!!#I mean. I mean #it all makes kind of some sense if we're talking about elves here #but guys Noldor had Men and Dwarves as allies #Maglor would want them in his Historical Record song #I think with Dwarves they would mainly refuse when he asked them if they wanted a part in Noldolante #so maybe he would only get some allies and personal friends of Maedhros in #but Men #guys Men. they would agree and they would make lists and it would become Clown City so fast #but Sons of Feanor aren't known for their ability of knowing when to quit #so Maglor has a Noldolante 3.0 Standard Version with 254 Parts that has Elves and an Occasional Dwarf Only #and Special Version Noldolante Deluxe Extra Edition with 547398134 Parts that includes Men #everyone is included you don't have to die in battle #all common causes of death have a dedicated jingle to them #to the point you know a man's cause of death after 3 notes #these parts of Noldolante well the music bit actually survived into the Fourth Age #the words are gone but the music is played at funerals in some places #The Noldolante Main survived only in parodies though #actually Finished Noldolante is a very good thing huh #as in no more Fall of The Noldor #they can finally catch some break #I believe that during Maglor's Regency Era all Noldor did was Processing. and breeding horses.#Noldolante? more like Maglor Finally Discovers Shame: A Story #I think some personal revelations on legacy and connections between children and life's works would be made

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