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#and you know what? no one ever touched my shit or said rude shit to me again. everyone got very kind and civil
craycraybluejay · 5 months
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I'm just gonna start calling people theymab till they realize that being referred to by your agab is a particularly fucked up version of midgendering
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torubeth · 1 month
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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)
context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.
ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.
‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.
‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.
correction, you shatter.
somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.
and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.
‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’
quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.
‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.
when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.
‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’
‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.
god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.
‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.
‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.
geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.
‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.
‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.
‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.
‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.
‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.
‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.
‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.
since when did he-?
out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-
‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.
‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.
what the fuck am i doing, he thought.
slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.
‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.
‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.
‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.
his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.
he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.
nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.
‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.
‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.
the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.
he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.
‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.
a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.
slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.
‘sweetheart…? why are you…’
you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.
‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’
his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’
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sukiipjs · 1 month
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✿ TRUTH OR DARE
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
↳ matt sturniolo x fem reader
↳ words - 1397
↳ summary - a stupid game of truth or dare with your best friend turns into what you’ve always fantasized about…
↳ contains - smut, swearing, fingering, oral, sex, praise, pet names (baby), use of y/n, fluff at end, idk
↳ song - void by the neighborhood
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
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°:. *₊ ° . ☆
me and matt are best friends, ever since we met, we just clicked with each other but honestly, also ever since we met… i’ve liked him, wanted him… of course i never told him, or anyone but myself and i don’t act on anything, just think… think of all the things he could do to me, fuck.
currently, i’m over with matt and we just finished up a movie -that i’ve been clenching my thighs the whole time while watching it- and now we’re bored again, we sit on his bed, facing each other and decide to play truth or dare, sure it’s basic but who cares it’s something.
“okay truth or dare?” i ask matt as he answers, “dare” i try to think of a non boring dare to say, and then i remember this one video i saw… perfect chance to just get something to fuel the churning feeling in my stomach, “uhhh i dare you to do five push ups… and say my name in between them.”
he laughs a little, getting off the bed, “…weird but whatever, trying to make me work out or something?” i watch him as he gets on the floor, his hands and feet supporting his body as he starts to push down, “y/n” he says normally before going up and back down again, “y/n” his voice starts to get breathy.
i move one of my legs on top of the other, squeezing my thighs again to feel something… oh god, “y/n” my teeth hold my bottom lip hard as i try to subtly move my body, trying to get a little more friction, he’s so fucking hot, i wish he was moaning my name for real “y/n…” he grunts as he picks himself back up again, “shit- y/n” he shakily says one more time before he lays his body on the floor, breathing to catch his breath.
“okay maybe that was a good dare, could barley get to three,” he laughs a little, picking himself off the floor as he looks down at me, my cheeks flushed red and lip swollen from the bite. “jesus you okay? you look sick,” he bends down a little, letting his thumb graze over my lip, i stare at him, his face so… so close to mine. “no i’m fine, i just pick at my skin,” i try smiling a little, picking up my hand to swipe his away, my face still red with slight embarrassment now.
“whatever,” he rolls his eyes a little, sitting back down on the bed next to me, “okay my turn, truth or dare?” i play with my fingers a little, thinking of which one to choose. “truth” i look at matt as he thinks of a question until he asks, “do you have a crush?” i let out a slightly embarrassing laugh, being so caught off guard by that.
“that’s a stupid question!” i try hiding my face a little, still burning up, why would he choose that out of all thinks to ask. “you only say that cause you do!” he laughs out, “who?” i shake my head a little “i never said i had one!” he sighs a little, eyeing me, “look at you. who is it cmon?”
i shake my head again, hiding my face with my hands, “okay, i might but i am not telling you.” he pushes me playfully, my body rocking as i take my hands off my face and push him back, “rude.” he rolls his eyes again, “fine. but since you wont tell me, i’m telling you a dare and you can’t back out on this.”
i roll my eyes back, “fine, what?” he moves himself a little, sitting more comfortably as he stares into my eyes, a small smile coming to his face, “kiss me.” my smile drops slowly, my eyes widening a little, “what.” he moves his face closer to mine, “you heard me” is this real?
“you think i never notice how you stare at me, clenching those thighs? you think i didn’t know what you were doing when you asked me to basically moan out your name? kiss me. i dare you.” he sets a hand on my thigh, gently squeezing it as his nose almost touches mine now, whaaaat the fuck.
i quickly move my mouth to his not letting this opportunity go, our lips pressing against each other, his hands move to hold my face, not letting me go of the kiss. “fuck- you have no idea how long i’ve been dreaming of you,” he grins, staring at me, his hand still on my cheek until it starts to travel down my body as i move to lean on his headboard.
i keep my eyes on his hand as it goes lower and lower on my body, stopping at the waist of my pants as he looks up at me, “can i?” i nod my head vigorously as he gives me a smile, eyes going back to his hands that start pulling down my sweatpants and underwear off my ankles.
“so beautiful,” his hands make small movements up and down my thighs, he starts to gently move my legs apart as i bend my knees to prop them up. matt scoots closer, his hands keeping my legs apart as he starts to kiss at my inner thighs.
i stare down at matt between my legs, waiting for him to touch me more. he finally lands his lips onto mine, his stubble scratching slightly on my skin. “matt-“ my hands squeeze onto his sheets, my back arching slightly as i moan out his name. his tongue dancing around my clit, his warm breath being felt on my skin, his fingers creeping on my thighs, making sure i don’t close them.
my hand moves to grip onto his hair, pulling him gently onto me more, bucking my hips into him. “fuck!” i moan, my eyes shutting and jaw clenching. one of his hands leave my thigh and i suddenly feel two fingers plunge inside me, starting to pump in and out making me moan out more.
my grip on his hair tightens and i feel the knot in my stomach release over matt’s tongue. “fuck you taste so good baby,” he smiles, lifting his head out my legs, fingers out me and leaning to kiss the lips on my face.
he continues kissing me as he starts to yank off his pants, letting his dick spring free. he slowly pulls away from the kiss, throwing his pants to the side off the bed. he puts his hands on my waist and pulls me down to lay more as he holds his hardness, guiding it over my folds.
he grabs onto and moves one of my legs to rest above his shoulder before pushing inside me, finally. “fuck!” i moan out, feeling myself stretch around him. “oh shit…” he starts to thrust inside me, low groans and sighs coming from his mouth.
“fuck y/n…” i shut my eyes as i moan out, matt starting to lean down to kiss at my neck, leaving dark spots on my skin. “you like that? hearing me moan your name out? this what you wanted?” he smiles as he goes back to sucking at my skin. i wrap my arms around his back, scratching my nails into his fair skin. the vibration of his mumbles tickle my skin as i clench around him, “close-“ i moan out more, matt still marking my neck.
i let myself go, cumming around him as he makes a few last thrusts, leaning back up smiling at the spots he made on me. he pulls out, stroking himself to cum too. i lay back, catching my breath and replaying what just happen, fuck this is perfect.
matt flops over beside me, laying down and quickly wrapping his arms around me, letting his head rest on me. “you okay?” i nod, “i’m perfect” he smiles, “i know you are,” we laugh a little as i start to rest my hand on his back, my finger running circles on his back, “matt?”
“yeah?” he asks back, my stomach churning just from his voice. “i really like you…” i speak softly, kinda nervous even though we just did something way more. “me too,” i feel his smile grow on my skin as he holds me closer, tighter.
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @teenagetrash00 @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n @junnniiieee07
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strang3lov3 · 11 months
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Everyday I'm Shufflin'
Joel Miller x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel is shocked, horrified, disgusted, and absolutely appalled to learn you, an adult, cannot shuffle a deck of cards. He makes it his mission to teach you in a rather unconventional way 😈🔥😍 
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smutttt, kind of soft dom! Joel (y’all know the fuckin drill, but this is like the softest soft dom), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, undefined age gap, unprotected PIV sex, Joel is a sweetie honestly, loosely proofread bc I was so excited to get it out to you guys.
Word Count: 6k (oops)
A/N: Dumb title I know…but listen. I know I’m touching on this particular theme/idea of card shuffling in my story Sweetest Perfection (which I’m unsure of when I will finish lol) but omg ladies…I was playing Gin Rummy with my man a few nights ago and he tried to teach me how to shuffle a deck of cards. I have never been so turned on watching him do something so simple. His hands were so skillful, his voice was so smooth and comforting. So thank you J ❤️ I love you!! (If he ever finds my writing I will drive off a fucking cliff) 
if you enjoy this story, please leave me a comment! I am super proud of this story!
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How you learned to shuffle a deck of cards was rather…unorthodox. To say the least. 
It started with a game of Gin Rummy. 
Joel read once long ago that when shuffling a deck of cards, it is statistically more than likely that the particular order of shuffled cards never existed before and will never exist again. 
Joel had played enough games of Solitaire by himself and shuffled enough cards over the past twenty-odd years that he was sure he beat that statistic. What else is there to do when you’re bored as shit in the apocalypse?
It was safe to say Joel was more than sick of Solitaire. So one morning at breakfast, he invited you to join him for a few games of cards. Nothin’ fancy, he said. 
You said yes, of course. Joel Miller was distant, reserved. Standoffish, even. But he seemed to have a soft spot for you.
He noticed you sitting alone at dinner about a year and a half ago. He was alone too, Ellie usually ate with Dina. She was too cool for him, he guessed. You looked quite a few years younger than him and looked bored and lonely, nudging and poking at the food on your plate. It made him feel sad. 
The next day, you were alone again. And the day after. And the day after that. On day five when he found you sitting alone, he decided to make his move. Instead of going to his usual spot at the end of the banquet tables, he sat across from you. 
You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in confusion. “Can I help you?”
He didn’t think it through. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to make conversation. How to explain why he was sitting there.  “I just, uh. My juvenile delinquent ditched me. Just wanted some company. I’m sorry, this was dumb,” his voice was gruff and low as he reached for his plate and began to stand up. “I’ll leave ya alone.”
“No, no. Stay,” you corrected yourself. “I didn’t mean to come off rude or anything, you just surprised me. Joel, right? Tommy’s brother?”
He nodded yes. You gave him your name and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Joel,”
“You as well, darlin’,” he took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake. His hand was warm and calloused.
And that’s how it started. You hit it off completely. Conversation was slow and awkward at first, but eventually it began to flow naturally. Joel was older, but the type of person you could talk to for hours. Like when you talk about your favorite food or movie and hours later you’re laughing about something random and obscure, and you wonder to yourself how you even ended up on that subject. You met for breakfast and dinner every day. 
“So I’ve got a proposal for you, darlin’,” he said, taking a bite of his buttered toast. 
“Pray tell, Mr. Miller!” you requested, a curious tone in your voice. 
“I’m sick of solitaire. Been playin’ it every damn day for too long now. Come over for cards tonight?”
You paused, pressing your lips in a thin line. Card games weren’t really your thing. You remember Tommy and Maria and how they tried to teach you euchre a while back. It didn’t end well, you left with a migraine and no understanding of how to play euchre. But there were a few games you enjoyed. “Depends. It’s not euchre, is it?”
“Nope. That’s four players, sweetheart,” he informed. 
“Poker? Because I don’t know that one either,”
Joel rolled his eyes. He’d have to teach you that one sometime. “No, not poker,” he chuckled when you let out a sigh of relief. “Tell you what, we’ll do any game you want. I’m just sick of playin’ with myself,'' Joel balked, then winced at his poor word choice. He absolutely did not mean to say that. 
Your eyes widened in amusement at his silly word mishap. Now that must be a sight for sore eyes, Joel playing with himself. You tried to push the image out of your mind, but it was nearly impossible. You spent many nights with your hand between your thighs, picturing Joel naked and moaning on top of you. Or under you. Or behind you. Sometimes all three. The truth was, you needed Joel badly. Like, desperately. “Tired of playing with yourself, huh?” you teased with a smile and a playful glint in your eyes.
Joel pouted, the slightest tint of rosiness blooming on his cheeks. You idiot, he scolded himself silently. “Shut up, smartass. Are you comin’ over or not?”
“Duh. Ellie gonna be there?” 
“Probably not. It’ll be just us, most likely. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. Finally, real alone time with Joel. Maybe tonight you could make your move. You hoped that Joel thought about you too. You caught his lingering stares, picked up on his cautious flirting. He could be so sweet and so charming, it had to be because he liked you too, right? But he was from Texas, so maybe it was just his southern gentlemanliness. Either way, it was worth a shot. 
“Let’s meet here for dinner like usual, and then we can go over to my place. That work?”
You smiled and nodded, trying to keep cool. Excitement was bubbling in the pit of your stomach. 
“Then it’s a date,” 
A date!!
After breakfast, you went home and spent most of the day picking out a cute outfit for the evening. You went through nearly every piece of clothing in your possession, eventually settling for your favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and a zip up hoodie. Casual.
Dinner came and went as normal. Joel was dressed as his usual self. A dark red flannel and some jeans that hugged his ass a little too nicely. You shared a good conversation, and when you finished eating, Joel took your dishes away and then met you at the door. 
You walked side by side until you got to his home. It was cozy and inviting, Ellie’s drawings displayed prominently on the walls. Little tchotchkes and knick knacks here and there. A few old pictures, old books and magazines. His weathered deck of Bicycle playing cards sat in the middle of the dining room table. 
Joel pulled out a seat for you and brought you a glass of water. He sat right next to you on the other side of the table. “So,” he started, reaching for the deck. He split the cards in two, braced his fingers along their sides and ran his thumbs from bottom to top. The cards fell in a swift and staggering motion. Effortlessly, he brought the cards up and bent them into an arch, letting them fall. “What card game we playin?”
“I was thinking we could play Gin Rummy?” you asked sweetly.
“Good choice,” he replied. He had some other games in mind, but couldn’t say no to your request. Joel dealt the cards expertly, quickly placing ten cards each in front of yourselves. The thwap thwap thwap of the cards hitting the table was such a pleasant noise. You loved how skillfully he moved his hands. 
You brought your cards to yourself, doing your best to sort them into different groups. Unfortunately, Joel gave you the shittiest hand he possibly could have. This would be a swift game, you assumed. Joel snickered when he sorted his cards. By the looks of it, he already had the beginnings of a few good sets and melds. “Gonna kick your ass, darlin’,”
You grumbled in response. Joel flipped the first card up, motioning for you to make your choice. You couldn’t do much with it, so you passed. Joel took it, then discarded one of his own. You were right. The game went by quickly. Within minutes of playing, Joel showed you his hand. He had, in fact, kicked your ass. He was smiling and giggling and bragging, almost how a child would. You loved the way his eyes sparkled and the crinkles that framed them just so. He was too handsome for his own good.
He took your cards and placed them neatly in with the rest of the deck, then placed the deck in front of you. “Your turn to deal. We’re playin’ again,”
“Good. It’s about time I deal. You gave me the crappiest hand you possibly could’ve!” you laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. I purposely gave you a shitty hand because I need to rig the game in order to win. Or maybe I’m just better than you,” he taunted with a smile. He could be such a sarcastic prick at times. You rolled your eyes in response and Joel pointed to the cards. “Deal for me now, sweetheart.” 
This is when all hell broke loose. 
You took the cards in your hand, doing an awkward shuffle. Moving some cards sporadically here and there and mixing them on the table. It wasn’t the prettiest way to shuffle cards, but it worked. Right?
No, not right. Not according to Joel. 
His jaw dropped, eyes squinted and his brow furrowed. He is completely and utterly appalled. Disgusted. Horrified. Offended. “What the fuck is the matter with you? What are you doing to my cards?!”
You stopped your actions. “What?” you asked worriedly.
“My cards! That’s how you’re shufflin’ them? Is this some kind of joke?” his southern accent intensified with his anger.
You looked down at his cards. None were bent or damaged in any way. “Joel, it’s fine,” you chided. “You’re so dramatic.”
“No, it is not fine. You mean to tell me this is how you shuffle cards?”
“Yeah, so?” Joel scoffed. “Unacceptable,” he takes the cards from you, huffing and puffing as he sorts them into a neat stack. “You’re an adult. Do it the right way.”
You give it your best shot. Trying to picture the way he shuffled, you mimic his finger placement and drop the cards, sliding your thumbs along the top edges. They don’t stagger nicely, however. They kind of plop on top of each other in groups. 
Joel sighs in disappointment. He takes them from you in a sharp motion. “Give me those,” he grumbles. “You don’t know how to shuffle?” You shake your head no. “Gonna teach you, then.”
He splits the deck in two, then faces the cards so they’re mirroring each other, just like before. “Like this, darlin’,” he starts. “You place your pinkie, middle, and ring fingers at the far end. Pointer is bent at the knuckle on top, thumbs at the close end,” He shows you his hand placement, turning the cards so you can see all angles. “See?”
Joel is rambling about hand placement and how to move your thumbs. But you can’t help it. You’re practically salivating watching him move his fingers so skillfully. As he’s explaining how to slide your thumbs slowly up the cards, you’re picturing his thumb on your hot center, slowly sliding up your folds. 
“You try now,” he sets the deck down in front of you. 
Shit. You can’t remember a thing about what he told you. He helps you move your fingers properly and you freeze, your brain is short circuiting. His fingers are pure electricity on top of yours. 
You take a breath and try again. Somehow, it’s worse than before. 
“No, like this,” Joel takes the cards and begins rambling about the cards again. Now you’re watching his middle three fingers, wondering how they would feel inside you. How would they stretch you, how would they move? He’s so fucking good at this. It turns you on. 
Joel says something, but you don’t answer. He looks at you, noticing your glazed eyes. You’re on another planet. “Are you even listening to me?” “What?” he breaks your trance. You meet his eyes, his eyebrows are raised and he looks rather irritated with you. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you smile sheepishly.
“What’d I say?”
“You said,” you begin, trailing off when you can’t think of a good lie. He caught you, you weren’t listening at all. You couldn’t repeat a single one of his instructions.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Joel’s words are bitter and he feels upset. He thought this would be a nice way to spend some alone time with you, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about tonight. It’s jarring, he didn’t expect this from you and it stings him. 
“No! Of course not, Joel. I’m sorry,” Oops. Probably shouldn’t have been fantasizing about what his fingers could do to you. Rookie mistake, that’s the first rule of learning to shuffle a deck of cards! Never fantasize about your teacher’s fingers! 
“Then what is it?”
You hem and haw, rattling off whatever you can think of to answer him. He’s not satisfied and you can see it. His brow is flat and he wears a frown of disappointment.  
“Quit lyin’. If you’re bored, just say so. Won’t hurt my feelings,” Lies. Joel’s heart is crumbling at the thought of you being bored of game night. He’d actually been planning on inviting you for a while, and finally gathered the courage today. 
 “I’m having fun with you,” you stammer for a second, “I promise.”
“Yeah. Seems like it,”
You groan and bury your head in your hands. There’s no way out of this. You have to tell him what’s really going on. “Fine, Joel. You want the truth?”
“Yes, I do. Enlighten me,” he deadpans. 
“Fine,” you inhale and close your eyes, mentally preparing for the humiliation you’re about to inflict upon yourself. “Your fingers. Your hands. The way you move, the way you’re so good at this. It’s sexy, okay? I can’t fucking focus.”
Joel’s in disbelief that he heard you correctly. When the words finally register, a smirk curls up on his lips. He feels a little guilty for accusing you of not caring. But then again, he never would have thought shuffling cards would be a turn on for a woman. Poor thing, he thinks. You’re not bored, you’re just hot and bothered. It’s no wonder you can’t focus. “You think I’m sexy?”
You stare at the cards, avoiding his stare. God, this is embarrassing. “Yeah, of course,”
“Of course, huh?” he taunts you with a shit eating grin. “My fingers are gettin’ you all worked up, is that right?”
You finally build the courage to look up. There’s no animosity or malice in his gaze, just amusement. Your confidence is beginning to return. “That’s right,” you reply with a whisper. 
“Wow. My fingers gettin’ you all hot and bothered and I’ve never even touched you,” he teases. “That’s what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours? You’re thinkin’ about me touchin’ you?”
You nod. “How could I not? I always do,”
“Oh darlin’, how you flatter me,” He pauses, thinking. Joel gets a twisted idea then, and places the cards in front of you. “Tell you what, sweet thing. You shuffle those cards real nice for me, I’ll use my fingers on you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes Joel, please,” you rasp out. You took the scenic route to get there, but the night is finally headed in the direction you had hoped for. 
Joel makes it look so easy. Just focus a little harder, and you’ll do it. You split the deck in two, mirror the cards, place your fingers properly, and–
Plop plop. Plop. 
The deck splits in large chunks with a few single cards falling near the end. You exhale in frustration.
“Come on now, sweetheart. You want me to touch you, right?” Joel’s wearing a twisted smirk, so smug and cocky. “What’re you screwin’ around for?”
Joel loves teasing his partners, he loves building up tension so palpable that it could be sliced with a knife. 
You glare at him. You’ll show him. It can’t be that fucking hard to shuffle a damn deck of cards. You repeat the shuffling motion, failing again.
You grunt at the deck of cards, wishing you could make them burst into flames. You try again, and fail. Yet again. 
You try again. Fail.
And again. Fail.
And again. Fail. 
Focusing is becoming increasingly difficult with the throbbing growing stronger at the apex of your thighs. 
You huff indignantly, slamming the cards on the table. “Fuck this,”
“Hey, now. If you’d’ve just listened to me you’d get it right by now,” Joel steps out of his chair and hovers behind you, then motions for you to begin again. He places his hands over yours, separating them a little. “Hands are too close together, darlin’. That’s why the cards aren’t falling right. Now try.”
You steady your breath, focusing on the cards. You slide your thumbs up the edges slowly and watch the cards stagger perfectly. The pitter patter of each card hitting the other is the most beautiful and relieving sound you’ve ever heard. You gasp, amazed that you finally did it. 
Joel opens his mouth to praise you, but you interrupt him by practically leaping out of your chair and into his arms. Without thinking, you grab his face and press your lips to his, kissing him hard and fast. Your lips slide sloppily against his and your teeth click together every so often. 
Your hands leave his face and furiously unbutton your jeans and you grab his hand, shoving it down the front of your pants. You moan when his fingers reach your center. 
Joel’s instinct is to tease you some more, but you’ve done that to yourself enough already. It’s evident by the river flowing between your thighs. You gasp when drags his middle and ring fingers up and down your seam. 
“You poor thing,” he whispers into your lips. “Fuckin’ needed this, hm?”
You don’t answer him, you can’t. You just whimper into his mouth. His strong nose presses against your cheek and his lips are soft against yours. His calloused fingers paint steady circles against your clit and his other arm is around your waist, holding you tightly against him. He can feel your knees beginning to buckle and he relishes in the way you’re unraveling, just for him. 
He parts from you and removes his hand from your pussy. You let out a cry of frustration at the loss. “I know, darlin’,” he sympathizes.
 He sits on his chair and pulls you close to him by your hips, then tugs your jeans down your thighs. He motions for you to take them off the rest of the way and then guides you to sit in his lap, your back flush against his chest. He pushes his hand down the front of your panties and returns it to your pussy, circling your clit once more before pushing two fingers inside your wet heat, curling upwards and hitting the spot that makes your thighs tremble. His hot breath tickles your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. “Did so good, baby. So good for me,” 
A strangled moan gets caught in your throat. His fingers feel incredible, stretching you out and pressing into you. 
He loves the wet squelching sound of your pussy, he loves the way your head is resting on his shoulder, your lips pressing into his neck as you whimper sweet nothings into his skin. His other arm is wrapped tight around your body and he squeezes your breasts in his big hand, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. “God, you don’t take much at all do you? So sensitive, just for me,”
His cock is hard beneath you, poking through his jeans and into your back. He desperately wants to be touched, wants to take this further and fuck you hard and deep. But not yet. 
“Joel, I want more now,” you whine, feeling heat deep in the pit of your stomach. 
“You want to come now, sweetheart? Come all over my fingers?” he nudges your thighs farther apart and you open up deeper for him. He removes his hand from your breasts and trails it down your body, beginning gentle circles on your clit while the fingers on his other hand continue curling into you. 
“Please,” you cry. You’re so noisy, he’s thankful you’re screaming into his bad ear. 
“‘Course, baby. You can let go. It’s okay,” he coos. If only you could see his devilish smirk and know what twisted idea he’s conjuring up in his head. 
With his permission, you let yourself go. Your face and chest flush and your muscles squeeze around his fingers erratically. “Fuck, fuck, Joel,” you moan.  Joel continues his work on your pussy as you ride out your high. It’s a delicate orgasm, soft and gentle. It feels wonderful, but you need more. 
With shallow breaths, you compose yourself and turn to face him. You press kisses to his lips and his jaw and down his throat. Then, on your knees, you reach for his belt buckle. 
“What d'ya think you’re doin’, sweetheart?” he questioned you, his voice taunting and playful. He grabs your hands and holds them tightly to stop you. 
“What do you mean? I’m going down on you,” you reply, baffled by his question. “Then we’re gonna fuck.”
“Ah, ah,” he tuts. “No we’re not.”
“We’re not?”
“No. I never said I’d fuck you. I told you I’d use my fingers on you,” Of course, he knew you thought this would go farther. But Joel revels in teasing a woman, making her beg and cry for him before finally giving in. 
You scoff in disdain. “But I wanted more,” you complain. 
“I know you did, baby. If you want my cock, you have to work for it. You didn’t shuffle the cards right,” he tells you plainly, as if it was so obvious. “Shuffle the cards right and I’ll fuck you.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Yes, I did. You watched me,”
“I did watch you, and you didn’t do it right. Have to finish with the bridge fall, sweetheart. Or else you’ll bend my cards and I’ll be real upset with you,” he explains, feigning sympathy for you. “I’d have to punish you. And you really don’t want that, baby. So why don’t you be a good girl now, shuffle those cards the right way so I can fuck you real nice, just how you wanted.” his voice is dark and low and serious, you love the gravelly rumble coming from deep in his chest. “Do that for me?”
You love the threat. One day you’ll have to bend his cards, just to see what he’d do to you. But you have bigger concerns at the present moment. 
You take a step back to your seat and sit, the cold wood of your chair is refreshing on the hot and sweaty skin of your thighs. You grab the deck, separate it, and take a deep breath in and let it out. You move your hands apart just a touch, just as Joel instructed earlier. And you let the cards fall into place. 
With your hands now holding the shuffled cards, you try your best to maneuver them into falling into place. It doesn’t go as planned, the cards flop backwards and scatter all over the table. 
Joel bites back a smile, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Havin’ trouble?”
“No. I can do it,” 
You try again. Split the deck, run your thumbs up the edge of the cards and–
The cards fall in chunky groups, not quite the elegant shuffle Joel was looking for. Oops. Fucked that one up. Not to worry, you’ll just try again. 
This time you shuffle correctly, attempt the bridge fall once more and fail. Again. You hear the clink of Joel’s belt buckle fall and watch him unzip his pants and pull out his cock. It’s hard and the tip is blushed as he begins to stroke himself. “Better get it together, darlin’. I’m gettin’ tired of waiting on you,” 
You glare at him silently. 
You steady yourself and try again. And fail. Fucking again. Joel lets out a low whistle and spits into his hand, then brings it to his cock again. His fist is moving up and down his shaft and he shrugs at you, as if to say ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t help it’. This is a delightfully unique change of pace, he thinks. He’s not doing a thing to work you up, your pleasure and release is all dependent on yourself alone.
Alright. Once more, this time with feeling. 
Fail.
You try and try and try again, failing each time. Your fingers are exhausted and your palms are sweaty, causing you to slip up. And Joel’s sitting there, playing with his cock and not saying a thing. You’re so beyond irritated, completely tired of this torturous bullshit. Tears of frustration well in your eyes and spill out and down your cheeks. This is fucking agonizing. You ignore your tears, hoping that if you don’t acknowledge them Joel won’t either. You try again. Nothing. You let out a cry in dissatisfaction.
“I know, baby. You’re tryin’ so hard,” Joel whispered earnestly. You just let out a dry laugh. “You are,” he continued. “Take a deep breath, focus for me. You got it.”
You shuffle the cards, set up the arch. “Easy, now. Lift up one thumb, let the cards fall. You can do it, baby,”
You do as you’re told, lifting up your left thumb slowly. You can’t believe your eyes as you watch the spill neatly into each other. Fucking finally.
You drop the cards and let them scatter slightly on the table. In a rush, you leap to Joel and drop to your knees, not even caring about the way the hard floor makes your knees ache. You swat his hand away from his cock and part your lips over the tip, feeling him slide past your tongue and down your throat. 
In your fantasies, you’d tease him with your tongue a little. Make him want you, need you. But not here, not now. You’re hungry for his cock and want to waste no time with him. You savor the way his cock feels so smooth and soft in your mouth, the slightly salty flavor of his skin. It’s all so…Joel. 
Even Joel was surprised by how eager you were. He gasped when you took him into his mouth, but quickly relaxed as you began your pace. You gripped his denim clad thigh in one hand and brought the other to the base of his length, twisting and pumping it as you bobbed your head. You hummed and moaned against him. 
“Wow, darlin’. Someone’s excited,” he mumbles. 
You look at him with big doe eyes and offer a wink in response. Joel lets you continue for a while more. He loves how enthusiastic you are, sucking and stroking him like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. It brings him close to the edge. 
He taps your cheek a couple times, encouraging you to hop off of him. Your lips are puffy and red, spit dribbling down your chin. He grabs you by your arms and shoves you against the table, then pushes the cards out of the way. You watch and giggle as they clatter on the ground in a big mess. He was so protective of those same cards before, so offended at how you touched them. Now they sat in disarray on the ground. “Your cards,” you breathed with concern. 
“Don’t care,” he mumbled, pulling your panties down your thighs and pushing your back onto the table. He knelt before you and draped your legs over his shoulders, loving the way they weighed him down. “Let me taste you, please,” he rasped out. You nodded hurriedly. Joel wasted no time, hungrily licking and kissing your folds. He lapped at you, pressed his tongue flat against your center and dragged it over your sensitive skin. He loved how you tasted, how you made a mess of his mustache and his beard. He pointed his tongue and flicked at your clit as he brought two fingers to your core, scissoring and twisting and stretching you out. 
It felt amazing, so intense and pleasurable. But you had been waiting so long for his cock already and it’s all you could think about. You pushed Joel away from your body and tore off the rest of your clothes as he followed suit. He looked gorgeous, tan skin and oh so smooth. He wasn’t very hairy, you noticed. Just a tuft of coarse hair at the base of his cock and a little happy trail leading down to it. His muscles were soft and lightly defined, you loved the little swell of his tummy. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered. “Need you to fuck me now.”
Joel cocked his head slightly at your compliment. No one had ever called him beautiful before. You were such a genuinely lovely person. He smiled sweetly at you before kissing you, closing the gap between your nude bodies. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby. Wish I told you earlier,” he purred. “I’ll fuck you now. You did so good, baby. So proud of you.”
With that, Joel lined his hard cock up to your soaked entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, being sure not to go too hard or too fast. He watched your face, the way your eyes fell shut and your mouth dropped open. He stopped once he was about halfway inside of you. “How am I doin’, darlin’?”
“Please fuck me,” you begged. You appreciated his gentle care, how he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You’d expect nothing less than the illustrious southern gentleman. But you’ve been waiting long enough with the prospect of being fucked by Joel Miller. Fuck sweet lovings, you needed to be fucked. To be used, like a toy. “Now.” you demanded.
It’s all the permission Joel needed. He slammed his hips into yours and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gripping his tight muscles. Your hands wandered down his back and settled on his ass. You squeezed the soft flesh beneath your fingers and let out moan after moan. 
Joel loved how vocal you were. Telling him what you needed, how you needed it. He loved the pretty noises you made, all for him. No one else. Not anymore, at least. You were his now and would be forever. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you panted between breaths. “Feels so good.” Joel’s head dipped down to your chest and he kissed and nipped at the soft skin of your breasts, tonguing your nipples and loving how you shuddered at his touch. “Good, baby,” he said. “You deserve it.”
You did deserve it, after all. He made you work like a fucking dog for it. 
Joel fucked you at a steady pace, comfortable for both of you. He asked you what felt good, what you needed. How he could make it better. “Tell me what I can do, sweetheart,”
There were no improvements to be made. Everything about Joel was second to none, his cock, the way he moved, the way he held you. He fucked you perfectly, just how you needed. “Nothing, just,” you squinted your eyes shut and searched your brain for words, finding it difficult to piece any together. “Just keep fucking me like this. Maybe a little harder, please.”
Joel was a provider. A lady as beautiful as yourself, asking for more? It’d be a sin to deprive you of what you needed. So Joel obliged, picking up the pace and hitting you deeper. “Just like that, Jesus, fuck. Just like that, baby.”
Baby. Joel loved that term of endearment. He wasn’t used to being called any sweet nicknames, usually he was the one who’d dole them out. Not just to anyone, only to those closest to himself. It’s why he called you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ so often. 
He liked being the object of your affection. “Keep callin’ me that, please,” he requested, his voice shy and low. He was so tough and domineering just moments ago, and now he was bashful and vulnerable, all because of one little word. Baby. 
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Wanted this for so long,” you whimpered, holding onto him tightly. You’d abandon his name completely and call him ‘baby’ for the rest of your lives, if he asked you to. 
“God, sweetheart. Me too,” he grunted. 
Joel couldn’t last much longer. He let out groans and strangled out moans as his pace became sloppy. “Let me make you come,” he begged. He wriggled his hand between your bodies, placing his thumb on your clit. He held a firm pressure to the sensitive bud and moved it in concise circles, pushing you closer and closer to your release. 
You let out a throaty moan as you felt your climax begin to bubble up inside you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m right there.”
Joel just kept doing what he was doing. Circles on your clit and fucking you deep, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. Your moans turned frantic and you cried out his name, over and over again, like a prayer. Your orgasm was much more intense than the last one, it sent electricity all through your body. You felt tingles and sparks wash over you, from your scalp all through your fingertips, down all the way to your toes. It was the best orgasm any lover of yours had ever blessed you with. 
Joel felt your body shudder around him, felt your pussy convulse and squeeze his cock. His thrusts became harder, faster, and frenzied as he chased his own climax. You watched his eyes screw shut and little drops of sweat fall down his temples as he let out a deep moan. His cock pulsed inside you, painting you with his hot seed. 
He let out a laugh then, between panting breaths. He pulled you in for a hug, his skin hot and slick with sweat. Head pressed to his heaving chest, you could feel his heartbeat in your ear. Your new favorite feeling. 
Joel pulled away from you, kissed you sweetly and helped you clean up. You pulled on your clothes and sat neatly at the table, picking up and sorting out the disheveled cards. Joel did the same, he bent down next to you and gathered the cards on the ground. 
He placed them in front of you, left for a second with your empty glasses, and returned with the glasses of water refilled before sitting in his seat again. How you didn’t knock them over during your fucking, you had no idea.
“Alright, baby. Show me how you shuffle now,” he grinned at you. He wanted to make sure his unorthodox method of teaching you actually worked. 
You smiled back, split the deck in two and mirrored them for the nth time that evening,  and then placed your fingers along the two decks. You slid your thumbs up the cards, watched one fall on top of the other, and brought the cards back up into a nice arch. With a breath, you let off one thumb and let the cards fall down slowly. You sighed in relief. Your maneuver wasn’t quite as smooth as Joel’s, but there was plenty of time to practice. 
You dealt out ten cards each, gathered your hand and did your best to hide a smirk. You held a three, four, and six of clubs, three kings, and two jacks. 
Joel sighs disappointedly at his hand. You couldn’t have dealt him worse cards. Nothing went with anything. 
The two of you exchanged cards quietly, as if you didn’t just desecrate Joel’s dining room table. It was quite funny, really.
The game was quick, just like before. You placed your sets and melds in front of him. “Read it and weep,” you jeer.
Joel grumbles something about cheating and steals your cards. “Rematch,” he says. “Loser gives the winner head.”
“Deal,”
Tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze
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hazenllas · 3 days
Text
Unwanted Words
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Regina George x fem! reader
contains: angst, fluff, comfort, Reader being a tad bit sensitive, slight mention of smut, i think thats it
A/N Message: back with my Regina fics!! this one is a little short only because im super tired and classes start in a little over an hour
Summary: You and Regina were complete opposites. Thats why you both worked so well together. Regina always had a soft spot for you, but what happens when she gets into a bad mood?
You and Regina were the top couple at NorthShore High. While Regina was the mean, rude and goddess-like Queen Bee who roamed the NorthShore halls as everyone (metaphorically) bowed before her feet when she passed, You were quite the opposite. Being an art freak who was bestfriends with Janis and Damien, you were the nicest person anyone could ever talk to. The second Regina laid her eyes on you the first time you walked into the school on your first day in sophmore year, she knew you both were made for eachother. And so did you. You werent exactly apart of the plastics but you were friends with Gretchen, Karen, and Cady. Regina and the Plastics made sure to have your back like Bodygaurds so everyone knows not to mess with you. Even in broad daylight Regina had the softest heart for you. She made sure to always care for you and protect you against everything. She was your safe place.
"Gina!" You shake your girlfriend up violently. It was 8:30 am. School started at 8. Because of the last night activities, you and Regina woke up late for school and you were panicking. "Shh.. a few more minutes baby..." Regina mumbled from her pillow she was snuggled in. You roll your eyes playfully and get out of the bed to get dressed. Regina pulled you back onto the bed and snuggled into you. She started kissing your neck and you felt yourself sigh. "G, come on..." You say, with a heavy exhale as Regina's hands Rome your body. She groans and let's out a "whatever". You giggle and go into Regina's closet where she has a section of only your cloths. It was Wednesday so you wore a pair of pink baggy Jeans and a white short sleeved oversized T- shirt and a few pink bracelets. Once you're ready, you look at your girlfriend, to see she is changing as well. You can't help but stare at her bare figure. "Like what you see, baby girl?" Regina looks over her shoulder smirking. "I-uh" You stutter out. "C'mere" Regina whispers and you follow her orders. She turns around and your eyes land on her perfect shaped breasts. "You can touch 'em baby." Reginq mumbles. You hold her breasts in your hands and softly massage them. She lifts your chin and pulls you in for a kiss. She moans in into the kiss and bites your bottom lip causing you to do the same. Your eyes glance at the clock and see it's 8:45. "Shit!" You say and pull away from Regina. "Gina we gotta hurry!" You shout and Regina rolls her eyes but continues getting ready.
Once you both get to school, she opens the door for you and you walk out with a soft thank you. She smiles and kisses your cheek. She takes your hand and you both walk into the school together. You shared a first period with Regina and Karen so while both of them chatted for a bit, you went to your seat and silently began reading as you wait for the teacher to get into the classroom. Regina goes to her desk bit stops infront of yours and pulls you into her lap. This was pretty normal for everyone so nobody said a thing.
After 1st period, you and Regina didn't have any classes together but you shared a few with Janis and Damien. Once lunch hit, you were so thrilled to see your girlfriend again. You walk into the lunchroom and see all 4 girls already at the table. You place your stuff down and give Regina a kiss on the cheek. She doesn't look at you which was weird but you shake it off. You go through the lunch line and walk back with a slice of pizza, a bowl of fruit, and a juice. You sit beside Regina and she doesn't pay attention to you at all. She was eating her food and would snap at Gretchen from time to time. What's gotten into her? "Ugh! You are so fucking stupid Karen! Why would you think that even if you fail the extra credit assignment you will still get your grade up?" Regina yells at Karen and Karen just stared at her food. "Hey, Gina. What's wrong baby?" You stroke Regina's arm to calm how down a bit. "What do you want Y/n." Regina says coldly. You feel a shiver down your spine but you don't give up. "What's wrong honey? Please tell me." You softy say and Regina's icey blue eyes glare at you. "Can you just shut the he'll up for one moment Y/n?" Regina shouts loudly and the whole lunchroom goes silent. You feel tears in your eyes and you look at your lap. You feel many shocked stares on you and you feel like you're in a giant hole. You pack up your things and rush out of the lunchroom. Janis and Damien follow after you but you wish Regina did too. "Woah woah Y/n what's wrong?" Janis asks you who is sitting on the hallway floor. "Janis, I don't know what's gotten into Regina!" You start to cry. Damien looks at you with sorrow and starts to rub your back. "Girl I think she's just having a bad day. Maybe talk to her later? There's gotta be a reason she lashed out on you like that." Damien reasons and you nod at his words. They stay with you until the bell rings for next period to start. You dodged the texts from Regina for the rest of the day which left Regina frustrated and worried. You even took the bus home instead of going to Regina's car for your every day sleepover.
It was 10:34 pm and you were laying In your bed. Your parents were away and you couldn't sleep. You still weren't answering Regina's texts. Regina was finally fed up and left to go to your house. She knocks on your window and you are startled by the sudden noise. "Who is it?" You ask alarmed. "baby its me, open the window please" Regina says in her soft tone again. You hesitated, but sighed and went to the window to let your girlfriend in. She immediately pulls you in for a hug almost suffocating you. "Im so so sorry for earlier sweet girl. I promise i didnt mean to yell at you. Will you forgive me, my love?" Regina kisses your head. you nod but then decide to ask her something. "Gina? did anything happen earlier that caused you to change your mood?" You lead Regina and you to your bed and she takes a deep breath. "Well first, i was walking to 2nd period and some dumbas spilled his juice on my boots! it made me so angry and i had to clean them up in the bathroom. then, i failed my math test! Then when i was trying to focus on the lecture, Karen would NOT stop talking to me! it made me in such a bad mood but that is no excuse for the way i took it out on you. Im sorry, honey." Regina rants and you giggle and kiss her cheek. "Its okay G. now can we go to sleep?" Regina nods and pulls you up onto her chest and snuggles into the bed. you both say good night and drift off to sleep.
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bandgie · 3 months
Text
As Above So Below
MDNI 18+ | fem!reader x Jongho x Seonghwa
warnings: freeuse (f!), dom Jongho, pussy eating, orgasm denial, sub (f! and hwa!), 3some, rough boob play, light clit play, brief mentions of face riding, exhibitionism
2.2k words
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When you first brought up the idea of free use, Jongho seemed hardly interested. 
"But I already fuck you when I want. I don't see the point," he mindlessly had said when you mentioned it. "Okay but..." you remember fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "Like, I mean I could be doing anything. Anything and you could be touching me, using me. Like is that not hot to you?" Jongho shrugged at this, but you could see the hidden smirk on his lips. "I don't mind trying."
It's been nearly a month since the conversation and Jongho acted how he always did. Few butt grabs here, jiggling your tits there. Sometimes he'd stand behind you while you sat on the couch and leaned down to play with your pussy. Rubbing circles over and over your cunt before pulling away, leaving you bucking your hips and whining. 
He didn't use it like you wanted him to, but you weren't necessarily disappointed by it. The days carried as usual, and Seonghwa happened to be over at your apartment, talking about how he got into it with his roommate. 
"He keeps touching my stuff," Seonghwa crinkles his nose in disgust. "And he doesn't even put it back right! I'm sure he's broken one of my figurines and just glued it together." He huffs and crosses his arms. 
You set your mug on the dinner table down, crossing your legs as you try not to laugh. "Seonghwa...I don't think you should move out just cuz of that." You bite back your smile at his frowning face, "Did you ever just tell him not to?"
Seonghwa looks at you ludicrously, "Did I- Of course I did! You think I'm just gonna let this slide? No! I paid for it and I built them and it's just rude in general! Next time I see him, I'm going to-"
The front door knob jiggles, clicks and turns. The sounds make the two of you look in the direction of it before it opens. 
Jongho enters, peeking his head in and eyeing the area. "I thought I heard someone. I could hear Seonghwa crying all the way from the car." He chucks his shoes off and replaces them with slippers. Seonghwa pouts beside you, "I'm not crying."
You giggle, watching your boyfriend set his coat on the couch and make his way to you. He kisses the top of your head and smiles, but something about it sends shivers down your spine. 
"How was work? Are you hungry?" Jongho only shakes his head at your questions, "Work was stressful. Had to train the new guy, you know how that is." You hum at his answer, "Did you wanna try taking a nap? Maybe that'll help you relax."
That sinister smile appears again, but he shakes his head at your suggestions to try and mask it. "I think I'm fine here. What was Seonghwa crying about again?"
Jongho takes his place behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders and Seonghwa desperately claims he is not crying. 
"His roommate Dan-"
"It's San."
"Sorry," you apologize, rolling your eyes at Seonghwa's correction. "His roommate San is giving him a hard time. Touching his things and going in his room unannounced." 
Though you can't see, Jongho nods at the information. His fingers gently begin to kneed into your shoulders, going up to your neck before traveling back down. His touch is cold from the outside, but still soft. You involuntarily shiver. 
"Sounds like he is giving you a hard time," Jongho gives a deep sigh. "Did you tell him to stop?"
Seonghwa makes a sound of frustration. "Jesus christ you two are the exact same! No shit I did. But he thinks he can wiggle his way out of trouble just cuz he's handsome."
"Still, it can't be all bad. Don't you have like what...two? Three roommates?" You ask, ignoring how Jongho dips his fingers underneath the top of your shirt. The tips of his fingers brush against the swell of your breasts before going back up. Seonghwa's eyes briefly drop to your chest before locking eyes with you. It was so quick, had you blinked you might've missed it.
"I...Yeah, one other roommate. Totally opposite," he swallows thickly. "He's fine, it's just San I can't stand."
Jongho gets brave, opting to slide his hands over your clothed breasts down to your hips. He squeezes your flesh then travels up, slowly making his way until his palms cup over your tits again. He pushes them together and jiggles.
Seonghwa and you give the same reaction, gasping wide-eyed. You take hold of his wrist with one hand while your other grips the underside of your seat. "J-Jongho what are you..." He moves your mounds up and down, squeezing and giggling at your shocked state. 
"What do you mean?" He gives a gummy smile. "I'm just doing what you asked me to."
A particularly harsh clutch makes you whine. Your hips lift from the chair for a second, as if trying to get friction in the air. Shyly, you look Seonghwa's way to see him in a quiet state of shock. Still, you catch the way his tongue pokes from his mouth. A habit you noticed he does when he sees something he likes. 
"I can go," Seonghwa gulps nervously. "I-I should go." Before he has the chance to stand to his feet, Jongho shakes his head, "Go? Weren't you just talking about your roommate? Don't you wanna get that off your chest first?"
"I...I no...my roommate..." Seonghwa's words die in his mouth when your boyfriend moves his hands to lift your shirt over your chest. Jongho places the hem in your mouth, a silent instruction for you to bite down on the material. You listen dutifully as Jongho then spills your tits from your bra. 
Your nipples are already hard from how roughly Jongho was playing with them. Your boyfriend pinches your hardened buds and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger. A soft whimper leaves your lips. 
"Oh my god," Seonghwa's eyes look like they're going to pop from his sockets. "Why are you- Is she okay with this?" He painfully tears his eyes away from your bare boobs to look at your face. Seonghwa inspects for any signs of discomfort, but he only finds your cheeks flushed. You bite your lower lip to suppress your moans, but his intense stare makes you want to fold. 
Jongho laughs at the innocent questions. "Did you hear him? He's asking if you're alright." You feel Jongho lean down until his mouth is at your ear, warm breaths ghosting over your skin, "Why don't you tell him whose idea this was?"
You turn your head the other way, unable to meet Seonghwa's eyes. Jongho smiles against your neck and tenderly pecks your skin. The soft nips and bites send shivers throughout your body, and the throbbing in your cunt begins to get unbearable. 
Maybe if you ignore the burning humiliation and listen to your boyfriend instead, he'll reward you. 
Timidly, you pick your head up and look at the overly aroused Seonghwa. "It was my idea. I...I just wanna be a good girl for Jongho. Use me whenever he wants."
Seonghwa's lips part at your confession, his eyes darkening. Jongho's smile turns into a wicked grin. It feels like you're a deer caught by two lions, only you're hoping to be eaten. 
"Dirty little thing I have, huh?" Jongho turns his attention to Seonghwa. "I bet her pussy's all wet. You can take off her underwear." Jongho kisses the sensitive part under your ear, "Put your legs up on the chair baby."
You pick your legs up and place your heels on the edge of the chair. There's hardly any room, but you keep your knees tucked as Seonghwa carefully slips from his seat. He moves slowly, assessing the situation. If he moves too fast, he thinks he might scare you away. But that's hardly an option for you when you see him bend to his knees, lifting your skirt higher until your panties are exposed. 
He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes going to yours then Jongho's.
"Well?" Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow at Seonghwa's reaction. There's a sense of panic that runs through you. Is he not really in the mood? Did he snap out of it? Does he not like it? Your worries are settled when Seonghwa's lips turn to a shy smile, cheekbones poking out. 
"She's so wet. I can see it through her underwear." Seonghwa gently traces the crease of your outlined pussy. The soft touch makes your hips buck, and a loud moan is finally released. You didn't realize how much you needed to be touched. Jongho laughs at your trembling state, hips chasing Seonghwa's hand. 
Just when Seonghwa hooks his finger on the side of your underwear. Jongho stops him. "You know what Hyung," Jongho's lips turn to a pout as he thinks. "Keep it on. Just touch her like that."
You whine at his change of instructions. "Jongho..." You tilt your head back to peer at him. "But I'm being good." Your boyfriend keeps his lower lip jutting out as he responds, "You don't get whatever you want just because you're being good."
You're about to argue when Jongho squeezes your breasts. You moan and arch your back, twisting your head down to Seonghwa who patiently waits for the green light. A small nod from your boyfriend is enough permission. 
He uses his thumb first, running it up and down your slit. Even through the underwear, he can feel the hotness of your cunt. When Seonghwa reaches your clit, he presses down.
"Oh!" You shake at the pressure. Your thighs threaten to snap on his head, but you keep them open. Soft whimpers and pretty gasps leave your wet lips when he rubs his thumb in circles over your nub. Jongho mimics the movements on your nipples, rolling and twisting until you're panting. 
"D-do you like it?" Seonghwa can't help but ask. Even if your body obviously shows the great amount of pleasure you're in, he needs to hear it from your own mouth. 
You nod manically, hair getting in your face. "So much. I like it so much, Hwa."
The praise gets to his head, and cock, more than Seonghwa would like to admit. It's all too much for him, your breathy moans, the way Jongho plays with your pretty tits, your covered cunt displayed in front of him. He licks his lips again, looking up to the man squeezing those perfect breasts. "Can I lick her?"
You throw your head back at the question. You know the type of tongue he has, the length, how pink it is. Even if you don't have the energy to speak, you beg Jongho with your batting eyes. Your boyfriend looks between to two of you before signing defeatedly, "Just keep her underwear on."
It's Seonghwa's nose you feel first. The tip of it brushing against your clit while his lips run over your swollen ones. They're so warm, so soft even if your underwear is in the way. He lets his bottom teeth graze over your cunt, making you squeal.
His burning tongue finally laps over your slit. Starting from the bottom, and going up. You sob, both in frustration and desire. It feels good, more than you could have ever thought was possible. But that thin layer of fabric gets in the way of you really feeling it. Feeling Seonghwa's salvia mix with your arousal, his tongue raw on your cunt. 
"Seonghwa please," you beg. "Take it off. I need to feel you."
Jongho pulls one hand away from your breasts before you feel it connect again rather harshly. You cry out at the slap, but he gives you no time to recover. He digs his fingers into your tender flesh to hear you weep more. 
"Didn't I say that's not allowed?" He questions you with a tut. "What a waste. I was gonna let him make you cum too."
"No!" You feel your eyes welling with tears. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! It was an accident, Jongho, please. I didn't mean it I swear." You try and apologize your way out of it. But Jongho's grip doesn't let up. He smacks your breast again, pretending to act as though he's disappointed.
"And you're lying to me. I don't think you're a good girl after all."
The sob that wrecks through you is genuine. It even makes Seonghwa stop to look at you, making sure you're not truly in distress. There's a soft look in his eyes, somewhat pitiful. He looks up at Jongho who only looks down at him. "If you let her cum, I won't let you play with her again," he threatens. 
That's enough to make Seonghwa obey. He gives you a sheepish look, "Sorry."
His muted kisses resume, this time harder. It seems like Seonghwa enjoys the idea of teasing you, even if he has a false look of sincerity. All you can do is try and ride his beautiful face before he pulls away at the last second. He watches you vibrate with ruined orgasms, watches those tears fall down your reddened cheeks, and looks at how your boobs begin to bruise with Jongho's fingers. 
You don't know how long it lasts, you don't even know if the sopping arousal between your thighs is really from you due to the sheer amount. But you do know that when Seonghwa leaves for the night with a throbbing tent in his pants, Jongho still won't let you cum.
And he'll make you wear that underwear for the rest of the day.
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a/n: first long ateez fic whhaaa kinda nervous about ittttt, tell me how you liked ittt (hopefully)
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aidansloth · 26 days
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Slow Dancing
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Summary: JJ and you slow dance <33 (short but sweet)
Warnings: dirty jokes (i mean, it’s JJ), swearing and nothing else really
Words: 1k
Posted this on AO3 too! You can find it here.
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Your head was laying against JJ’s chest, the two of you comfortably spread out on the Chateau's couch. It was just the two of you, late as it was everyone had gone home (but John B, obviously, who was already snoring in his room). JJ considered this place his home therefore making it kind of yours too. 
Air filled and emptied your lungs with no hurry. The world seemed to slow down at times like these, the only people to exist were you two. His fingers traced your arm gently up and down while your figure basically engulfed him. Softly playing in the background was the radio, whatever station it was set on didn’t really cross your mind, nor the song that was playing. That was until a specific song came up. With no hesitation, you pulled your top half up, looking at him.
Your eyes lit up, a painfully big smile popped up on your face and JJ swore he fell a little bit more in love with you.”I love this song!” 
His eyes twinkled as they followed your figure sprung up with a bubble of joy stuck to you; standing in front of him you put your hands in front, waiting. His eyebrows scrunched up while looking at them before his gaze lifted to your eyes, his mouth opened a couple of times but no words were uttered at first. 
“What… what are you doing?” A giggle came out of your mouth as if he said the funniest thing in the world.
“Asking you for a dance, obviously.” 
“Obviously.” He repeated with a couple of nods and a half-convinced smile. His hands that were previously toying with each other came up to fix his hat: a nervous habit of his at which you smiled at.
“Sorry to disappoint babe, but I don’t know how to dance.” JJ had never had the need or want to learn how to dance but in that moment it was his biggest regret. Now, he clearly wasn’t unfamiliar with party dancing, with dancing that took place in bars or nightclubs; that dancing you could say he was very intimate with. But this dancing? Dancing that accompanied sincere feelings and longing stares? No. Nothing prepared him for the sugar-y rotten feeling in his gut that your request brought him. How could his movements ever compare to the gentleness of you?
 For reasons to him unknown but to which he was greatly thankful for, your smile grew wider. With a shrug you responded.
“Me neither,” your hands still sweetly tempting him, “But that’s what makes it fun.” 
And how could he ever deny you?
So that’s what he did. His hands rested on yours and you pulled him up with haste, as if you simply couldn’t wait to have him against you. His feet and hands had never moved so clumsily and he was suddenly grateful he took his combat boots off earlier. The only thing keeping him grounded was the feel of your hands on his. Such a soft touch so unfamiliar on him. 
“So, ehm- how, how do we do this?” His long eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he tried to move with you without stepping on your feet. Lips slightly agape, hair messy and his goddam nose sitting so fucking adorably on his face. God he was so fucking pretty was the only thought circulating your mind right now, so much you nearly got lost in it.
“Just- you just gotta feel it, you know?”
“Don’t mean to be rude here sweetheart but unfortunately I don’t feel it.” Your chuckle was heaven to his ears.
“Okay okay, just follow me then, alright?”
“Always sweetcheeks.”
Your arms moved in unison, as one was brought towards you the other one shifted towards him, along with your bodies adjusting to the rhythm. Simple enough. Light giggles filled the dim room and JJ’s muscles finally relaxed. 
“See ‘J? You’re a natural.” As your pretty (very very pretty according to the boy) eyes look up at him so dearly he can’t resist a joke.
“Yeah, guess you just took my slow-dancing-virginity.” His eyebrows wiggle and a shit-eating grin appears on his face. A laugh raptured from you.
“Your what?”
“My slow-dancing-virginity.” He stated with much conviction.
“Okay- are you enjoying this new experience then?” Your smile and eyebrow wiggle mimicked his.
“Oh,” he scoffed, "Don’t even have to ask babe. You've been an excellent teacher.” JJ couldn’t resist a wink. “Wouldn’t mind you teaching me some other things.” Was he saying all of this just to get your pretty laugh out? Maybe, but it didn’t make it any less true. Another snort left you.
"Forward much?”
He shrugged, another suppressed grin. “You know me. Straight to the point kind of guy.” 
With new found confidence he left one of your hands and lifted the other one above your head; quickly getting the signal you twirled for him. He bit his lip: you looked ethereal. He must have done some damn good deed in his past life to deserve this.
Nothing matched the giggle-leaking smile that adorned your face. Your lonely hand met his again. Normally you’d make a silly remark regarding his surprise cheesiness but the silence embracing you two felt too comfortable to break.
At this point the initial song had finished and already switched to some other lovesick tune. Your eyes were still drowning in each other’s, soft smiles the same. Gradually your hands came up around his neck and his rested on your waist, thumb caressing your skin. His head came to rest against yours, his breath just taking you in. 
“Careful there JJ, you might go soft on me.” You left out a giggle that slowly died down as he watched you oh so tenderly. 
His thumb still stroking your waist, eyes grinning with glee. “Yeah, just might.”
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Thank you for reading!! Constructive criticism/advice is welcomed.
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aonungstsahik · 1 year
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Beauty | Ao’nung x Fem!Reader
you were a sully kid, neteyams twin sister. after you and your family got accepted you each got assigned teachers, yours was ao’nung. during lessons you easily got distracted but ao’nung likes that about you. (idk what to write)…
a/n- i skipped some parts of the movie…don’t be mad😞. also this is my first ever ff for anything! so if anyone has suggestions on to fix/work on please let me know! also request something and i might work on it!
warnings- ao’nung being himself, cussing, spellings mistakes and grammar
WC; 1,382!!
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‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊
second person pov
ever since you and your family moved to the Metkayina clan, you and your siblings have been constantly harassed by ao’nung and his friends during your teaching sessions.
whenever during your lessons you been so distracted by the natural beauty of wildlife under water. almost drowning 3 times. ao’nung noticed this after your lesson where you nearly drowned, and where you two started to become friends
‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊
flashback to the first lesson
ao’nung noticed the first time when you weren’t there. you would always complain how tiring it was and you need a break. so you weren’t there, he panicked because you were far from any land. he was not about to have your death on his hands.
there he saw you giggling as fishes were swiming by you, tickling you. a small smile coming to his face when he saw you.
it went away as soon as you started to grab your throat. you were starting to drown. ao’nung swam to you as fast as he could. grabbing you by your arms helping you reach the surface.
“what were thinking!,” he shouted at you as you coughing. you still were in his arms.
“i wasn’t thinking…i was distracted by the beauty of this place…” you looked at him. waiting for another scolding, instead he just laughed at you. you started to smile, “it’s not that funny! it’s a really bad habit of mine,” you said while slightly giggling while you splashed water at him.
“oh, you wanna start that?,” he said while laughing. he as you splashed you with water as hard as he could. ao’nung started to laugh at your state, jaw opening and dripping in water.
“ao’nung!!,” you shouted at him “you’re going to fucking pay for that,” you said as you punched him in the arm. his eyes grew muttering ‘oh shit’ under his breath. he dove underwater trying to run away from you as you couldn’t swim like him.
𓆝.°
recap before present day
over the next few days and weeks, you and ao’nung would get closer and closer. he started to bully you a lot less and he even was being nicer to you siblings, aka not pulling anymore pranks or saying rude things to them.
you and him would even hang out outside lessons, just by yourself. you felt your felt yourself starting to like him but you didn’t want to be reject by ao’nung. even though your whole family was teasing you and your ‘boyfriend’.
whenever there was no one around at the beach or underwater, he would be touchy with you. rubbing his hand against yours or even putting his tail on yours while you guys sat on the beach and talked about how different each of your homes were. and every time he would touch even sightly you get all nervous and blushly, you tired hiding it every time too.
he always saw you blush and thought you were adorable. ever since the first lesson ao’nung thought you were different from everyone he has every saw. and he loved that about you. he knew he liked you and ao’nung knew from his sister, Tsireya, that you liked him too. he just waiting for the perfect day to tell you…
‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊
present day, almost two months since you came
you were swimming with ao’nung for your ‘lesson’. ao’nung started to make up lessons just to spend with you since your siblings or someone were always with you. and he just wanted you to himself.
˚𓆛your pov
i was swimming behind ao’nung as i kept getting distracted by the wildlife. whenever a fish would swim right by me i had to stop and play with it. ao’nung could always tell when i wasn’t by him and i could see him whip his head around and smile when he saw me, i would smile back giggling. he swam up to me signaling up to the surface and i nodded to him.
“i want to show you somewhere, so no more distractions okay?,” he said to me while sightly turning his head to the side rising one brow.
i nodded and wrapped two fingers, “i promise ao’nung,”
he scoffed, “thank you tìlor,” as soon as i heard that word i started to blush. i tried hiding it by diving in the water. I signaled to him to hurry up. ao’nung smiled before he dove down where i was, motioning me to follow him.
we swam for what felt like forever, it was 5 minutes. he took an area underwater that had a cave, with a place where we could breathe.
“sooo, what makes this place so special
…?,” i asked, staring up at him as sitting on ground kicking his feet in water. i was right next to him but in the water, resting my head on my arms softly kicking my feet.
he looked down at me meeting my eyes. “i come here to calm down or even be by myself. i never brought anyone else here,” i lifted my head and smiled at him. “i need you to sit up here please, i want to you right in front of me please,” ao’nung asked me. i nodded and i was trying to pull myself up, he grabbed me by my arms lifting me up.
“thank you” i whispered, i started to get nervous. wondering all the things he could have said to me. maybe today was the day i was going to let it spilt.
“y/n?” ao’nung asked bringing me out of my thoughts, i nodded. he looked down, reaching for my both of my hands to take in his. he was holding my hands so gentle almost like i was going to break because of him. “i need to tell you something really important,” he looked at my eyes. my smile started to grow almost like i knew what he was going to say.
“y/n. i..um” he started stuttering and turning red. i giggled at his state making him look up and squint his eyes at me. “y/n, i..i like you…,”
my smile grew so big showing my more of my teeth now, “ao’nung,” i said “i like you too,” i took one of my hands and put it on his face rubbing his cheek. i scooted closer to him, “can i kiss you?,” i asked.
“that’s not fair i’m meant to ask tìlor,” he pouted, “but yes,”. his little smirk was one of the things you liked about him. you leaned in kiss him but as soon as you barely touched his lips he scooted away.
“ao’nung!?,” i questioned him, tilting my head and pushing my eyebrows together.
“cmon y/n you know you gotta work harder than that,” he laughed at me, he leaned in to my ear whispering “catch me for it,” and with that he was gone in the water before i could react.
i jumped in the water after him, i saw him swimming away looking behind him to see me chasing him. the chasing probably went on for a minutes before i couldn’t hold my breathe anymore. i swam to the top, looking down trying to see him but i couldn’t. as soon as i was about to go down again i felt something wrapped their arms around my waist. i screamed and turned around ready to punch someone. but it was him, ao’nung, all smiles and giggles.
“hey,” he said looking down at me, “you know you look so cute when you pout after you don’t get your way,” he moved his hand to cup my face, i slapped his arm and he yelped.
“i think you owe me a kiss,” is all i said as my eyebrows were raised. he chuckled at me and muttered a quick ‘yeah yeah’. he pulled me into a kiss that lasted for ten seconds. after the kiss i rested my forehead against his chest trying to hide me blushing so much.
“y/n,” i looked at ao’nung, who was already looking down at me, i looked up at him and nodded. he pushed some hair out of my face and smiled. “i see you tìlor,” he said and he leaned down to kiss my forehead.
END
translation;
tìlor-beauty
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lo-vearchive · 10 months
Text
Forgive Me (Pt. 2)
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: After reconciling in your bedroom, Miguel disappears on you for a week. Giving up on any hopes of romance, your friends plan a night out for you to cheer up. Too bad your boss makes an appearance and catches you with an attractive stranger on a stormy night. Read Part One: here
Word Count: 4463 words
Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel asking for forgiveness (again), arguments, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, tobacco consumption, 18+ (minors DNI), no p in v but things get spicy at the end, female fingering, finger sucking, misogyny, insecurity, swearing, hurt and comfort, office sex (no p in v), questionable Spanish
Note: ANGST! Got carried away once again. Lowkey not proofread. I love angst and Miguel being vulnerable.  If you are into angst, you will enjoy this. Feel free to correct my Spanish and ask for any other cw to be added. Thank you for the 1K+ notes on Pt. 1. Have fun, horndogs ;)
It has been seven days since you last saw Miguel O’Hara.
After spending a full 48 hours by your side, he had gone back to work. You decided to join him at Alchemax the next day but found his office empty. At first, you thought he was occupied with Spider-Man business, so you kept yourself busy with answering his overflowing email box. Slowly the sun set behind the skyline of Nueva York and the messages ran out, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach.
 You [sent Friday, 6 pm]: Hey, are you coming to work today?
You [sent Friday, 10 pm]: I’m going home for the night. Call me when you are home. I miss you :)
You [sent Saturday, 5 am]: Are you okay?
You [sent Saturday, 1 pm]: I’m getting really worried. Where are you?
You [sent Saturday, 5 pm]: I emailed you in case you lost your phone. Call me asap.
You [sent Sunday, 7 pm]: I’ll see you at work tomorrow.
You [sent Monday, 9 am]: Lyla said you’re okay but won’t tell me what’s going on. Says I don’t have clearance. Please call me.
You [sent Monday 10 am]: Are you actually ignoring me?
You [sent Tuesday, 1 am]: My best friend you’re an asshole and I should never let you near my pussy ever again.
You [sent Tuesday 1:23 am] Are you ghosting me? You know we work together, right?
You [sent Tuesday, 3:30 am]: I hate you Miguel O’Hara.
 Friday rolled around and your best friend had enough of your drunk late-night facetime calls. She gathered a group of your high school girlfriends and decided a night out in the town would be the perfect remedy. “Fuck him, babe,” Katy states, sliding a shot glass across the table. “You should report him to HR for being an ass.”
You laughed and tipped the glass into your mouth. The tequila burnt its way down your throat. “I’m just going to find a new job. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”
Your friend Soo let out a burp. “Did you let him hit it?”
You shake your head. “No,” you cough. “We came close to it, like above the pants stuff— do you think that’s why he’s ignoring me? Because I didn’t put out right away?”
“Bitch,” Katy chides, slapping the tabletop, “be fucking for real. You look like a busty, hot secretary from some comic book. He should be lucky you let him touch your tits!”
Your friends nodded along in agreement. Katy grabs the sides of your chair and spins it around, facing you to the restaurant bar. “You see that guy there?” she points at a man with messy blond hair in an open-collar white shirt. “He’s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to him right now.”
The tequila must have heightened your bravery as you found yourself walking across the dimly lit restaurant and to the wall. Stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you ask the bartender for, “a rum and coke please.”
“You can add her drink to my tab,” the man says just like you hoped he would. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw your friends fussing over you earlier and you looked like you needed a drink.”
“Is it that obvious?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “You’re right, I do need a little pick-me-upper tonight.”
“My name is John,” he says.
You introduced yourself and slide in the empty seat next to him. “So, what’s going on with you?” he questions, sipping his beer.
You carefully lift your drink from the bar top and circled the rim with your index finger. “I’m not sure if I wanna’ trauma dump on a stranger.”
“Sometimes talking to strangers helps.”
You contemplate his words and sigh. Your friends would kick you if you said the name Miguel O’Hara again in their general vicinity. You chose to divulge a little to the mystery man. “Things got a bit complicated with someone I really cared about. Everything was going well and then he disappeared suddenly, and I don’t know why.”
John listens to you carefully, nodding to himself. “You know what I do when I’m confused?”
“What?”
“I take a smoke break to chill out,” he answers, standing up. “Care to join me?”
You downed the contents of your glass and follow him out a door that open to a back alley behind the restaurant. Rain pours down heavily, and you both huddle under a dingy metal shed. The cold air bites your arms sharply as John lights the end of his cigarette and brings it to his mouth. “It can be frustrating when you’re left without answers but a girl like you has nothing to worry about.”
You smile at his words. You take the cigarette off his hand and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs, making your head spin a little. The light-headedness reminds you of how you felt last time when Miguel was in your arms. Airy, free, and light. No matter what you do, all your thoughts lead back to him. You shake away the memories and pass the cigarette back to John.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” a stern voice asks.
A man melts out of the shadows in the alley and into the light shining from a streetlamp above. You recognize him. “Miguel?”
He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes focused on John. “Who is he?” he asks with a deep frown.
“Listen, I’m off work right now,” you clear your throat, sticking your nose up in the air. “I don’t have to explain—”
“Look, man,” John interrupts, “no need to get all worked about this. We are just talking.”
Miguel lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right,” he spits and gets in his face. “You could have done that at the bar. Why the fuck are you out here alone with her? What were you planning on doing?”
“Mr. O’Hara!” you exclaim, stepping in between them. “You are out of line!”
He raises his eyebrows at your formality but keeps his attention on John over your shoulder.  “Buddy,” John says, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving you to the side. “She is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. I suggest you leave us alone now.”
The touch doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. His nostrils flare and his eyes turned red with anger. He steps closer to John until he is looming over the poor man. You often forget how big your boss is compared to everyone around him. The scene looks almost comical with how John tries to puff out his chest. “Te calmas o te calmo,” (Calm yourself, or I’ll calm you down) Miguel snarls.
Whatever John sees in his face is enough to make him reconsider. He holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly. Stopping in front of you he pushes the half-burnt cigarette into your hand and whispers, “If this is the guy you were talking about, then maybe it’s a good thing he disappears. I’ll be inside if you still want to talk.”
He walks away from the alley and into the restaurant, leaving you with Miguel alone in the alley. You watch in silence as his body trembles, and you can’t tell if it’s from anger or the rain hammering away at his back.
He breaks the silence. “So, you’re letting strangers into our private business?”
You snort loudly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that,” you tell him, taking another drag. “Especially after disappearing on me. You can’t just strut back into my life and tell me who I can confide in.”
“I was tending to some urgent matters,” he says, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “So I took the time to handle them. I can’t be around you every second of the day acting as your lap dog.”
The heat from the cigarette burns your skin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you raise your voice, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re acting like I want you on a leash! I just wanted to know you were okay.”
“Clearly I’m okay,” he replies, rolling his eyes.
Your lips tug into a deep scowl at his tone. “Did you ever stop to consider how your actions affected me? How lost and confused I felt waiting by the phone every day?”
“It wasn’t intentional,” Miguel matches your tone. “You know I am a busy man, and that I have responsibilities. But you’d rather live in some fantasy land where I’m just some monster out to hurt you! You can’t begin to understand the weight I carry on my shoulders.”
Anger surges through your body. “How am I supposed to understand when you don’t tell me anything? Hell, your AI knows more about you than I do. It’s like you only care about missions or work and nothing else—”
“Sometimes in life, personal matters have to take a backseat,” he cuts you off, harshly. “Not everyone can put on a short skirt and high heels, waltz into work, type a few memos and then call it a night.”
“You misogynist fuck!” You scream back at him, resisting the urge to slap him silly. “I hate you!”
“I hate you too!” he yells back in your face with bloodshot eyes.
You spin on your heels and begin walking towards the main road. Rage begins to bubble inside you and reaches your throat. You turn around just as you reach the sidewalk and call out, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you disappear again because I have hated you since the moment I met you. I hated you when everyone at work warned me about you. I hated you all those times you dismissed me like an afterthought. And I hated you when you came to my room that night begging for a second chance. So, I don’t care if you hate me, or think I’m useless or unimportant cause have hated you longer and harder and for better fucking reasons!”
You take another drag from the cigarette and then crush it underneath your pretty high heels. You make a right at the end of the alley and begin walking up the street. Warm tears spill down your face as you shiver in the rain. Katy was right, he was an asshole. An asshole that made you feel dumb for having a normal job or human emotions. But maybe you were just an idiot for falling in love with a man who didn’t respect you. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here you were feeling small and crying at the side of the road.
The sound of screeching tires brings you out of your self-pity. A sleek black car pulls up on the other side of the road and the passenger window rolls down. Miguel’s face emerges from behind the glass. “Ven aquí!” (come here) he calls out.
You ignore him and keep walking ahead. You have no idea where you are going, but you would rather eat rocks than speak to him.
From the corner of your eyes, you see Miguel make a sharp left, almost hitting oncoming traffic and pulling up beside you. “Get in the car!”
Your feet don’t stop moving so he slowly inches his car to match your speed. “Estoy harto. (I’m sick of this) Let’s talk!”
Honks and yells filled the night as people grew frustrated with his speed. “Stop,” you hiss, bending down to the window. “You are embarrassing me!”
“Get in the car then,” he says, with a clenched jaw. “You’re gonna’ catch a cold in the rain.”
“Stop pretending like you care,” you snarl, kicking the side of his car.
“A-YO LADY!” a man yells out of his yellow cab. “Get in the damn car! Your boyfriend is holding up traffic!”
A pleased smirk spread across Miguel’s face at the man’s remarks. You let out a frustrated grunt and yanked the door open, slipping into the passenger seat. “Put your seatbelt on,” he says, picking up speed.
You begrudgingly obey but wished that his car would get rear-ended so hard that his fat head would go through the windshield. “You look like you want me dead, babe,” he commented with a nervous laugh.
“Don’t call me that,” you snap, adjusting the belt over your soaking dress. “Where are we going?”
“Back to Alchemax,” he points at the GPS screen. “The freeway flooded, and it will be a while until it clears up. I have a spare set of clothes I keep in the office for overnighters. You can change while we wait for the storm to blow over.”
“I don’t want your charity,” you grumble, crossing my hand over my chest.
“I know,” he says. “I just want to take care of you.”
You disliked how your stomach felt at his words. “I left my bag behind at the restaurant.”
“I picked it up, it’s in the back seat.”
“I didn’t pay my tab.”
“It’s taken care of. Your friends know you’re fine, too. Just relax.”
Miguel leans over to turn your seat warmer on and warmth spreads across your chest and down your limbs. He drives in silence with only the soft white noise of radio static playing in the background. Occasionally you tear your gaze away from the furiously working windshield wipers and steal glances at his face. The headlights from other cars make the slopes of his cheek and the plumpness of his lips visible even on a stormy night. His warm complexion has turned pale, and you ponder if it was because of your interaction earlier.
You both pull up into the Alchemax parking lot and get out of the car. The security team must be watching through the cameras, wondering why one of their lead engineers was coming into work late at night with his drenched secretary. You quickly follow him into the elevator and up to the floor with his office. He opens the office door, and you slide inside into the dark space.
“Lyla,” he calls out and the room illuminates on command. “Lights.”
Miguel walks up to a storage cupboard and retrieves a towel in one hand and fresh clothes in the other. He passes them to you, and you quietly enter the adjacent washroom to change. You peel your damp dress off your skin and shiver as the chilly air hits you all over. Rubbing the towel quickly over your cold skin, you slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. It takes two knots of the drawstring, but you manage to keep the waistband tied around your naval.
You find Miguel waiting for you outside. He had changed into a shirt that hugged his slender waist and pants that hung dangerously low under his taut stomach. He pulls the towel out of your hand and drapes it over your head. His hands gently rub the threads against your wet hair in soft, circular motions. You lean into his touch involuntarily. “I can do it myself,” you complain but made no move to reach for the fabric.
“I know,” he replies. “I want to do it for you.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re doing that thing again,” you said, “and it’s messing with my head.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you start acting kind after being mean,” you explain in a small voice. “I don’t like it. It’s confusing”
He tugs the towel back so you can look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he speaks, gently. “I just lost my shit when I saw you with him.”
“You cut off all contact when all I wanted was to know if you were okay,” your voice shakes as you stare at your feet. “You left me all alone, what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your mind?”
“I know I messed up, baby. I was wrong” he sighs, inching down his forehead to meet yours. “I should have communicated with you, but sometimes on missions, things get complicated. I don’t always like the things I have to do, and recently I’m having a difficult time making peace with it. It’s like the harder I try to do the right thing, the more damage I do. So sometimes, it’s just better to be alone rather than pretend I’m okay around other people.”
His words hurt your heart. You knew that his missions take a toll on him. In the past whenever you tried to inquire about its contents he wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t push, afraid that he’d pull away, but it seems that he was pulling away regardless.
“When you’re gone,” you clear your throat, trying to speak through your narrowing trachea, “I worry that you might be laying dead in some universe, and I’d be none the wiser. I know that being Spider-Man is a sacrifice, but I don’t care about the world. I only care about you. So, when you treat me this way, it’s like I can’t breathe.”
He cups your face and places a soft kiss right on your cheekbone “Forgive me.”
“You say that a lot,” you remind him with a frown.
“I know,” he nods, “and I still mean it. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know how to find the balance in life. I love that you care about me, and I want you to continue caring about me.”
“I don’t know, Mr. O’Hara,” you said. “I can’t ignore the way you speak to me at times. It feels as if you think we’re not equals. I am not some idiot. I am not beneath you just because I work under you.”
He groaned at the sound of his last name. Every time you called him that, it made the space between feel bigger. “I have seen a million universes, nena, (babe) and you are not beneath me in any of them,” he curls a damp strand behind your ear, “Unless we are in bed, then you’re definitely under me.”
“Miguel!” you chide, punching him in the stomach. “No es broma! (It’s not a joke) I’m being serious!”
He lets out an oof and backs away. His fangs poke out from underneath his curled lips and in that moment, he looks as carefree. He wraps his large hands around your arms and holds your attention. “I know broken trust isn’t easily mendable, but I’m going to try my hardest. I won’t leave you out in the dark or make you feel small. I’ll think twice before I open my stupid mouth. I’ll even ask Lyla to give you full access to my missions. Wh-when you see what I have to do- what I must do, please don’t hate me.”
“Miggy,” you pout, reaching for his face. “I was really, really angry when I said those things to you. I can never hate you. My heart won’t let me.”
His toothy grin appears again, and Miguel draws you into him. His smooth lips find yours and he cranes your head back to find the angle that leaves you breathless. You run the pads of your thumb gently across the slopes of his cheeks. It never ceased to surprise you that his skin was so soft under his stubble. Without breaking your kiss, your shuffle back and walk him to his desk chair. You smile into his lips as he shakes his head when you move him back and down to sit. His hands wrap around your wrists. “D-don’t leave,” he cries out.
You shake your head and take a seat on his lap with your legs dangling off the side. Miguel’s hands find your jaw and he turns your mouth to his. You wrap your fingers in his hair and tug him closer. You let out a content hum as his fangs softly dig into your lips, breaking the skin. The taste of metal fills your mouth, and you pull away to look at him. He sits in your embrace, with red-stained lips and is just as breathless. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says. “I usually have them under control. It’s just you’re in my office and in my clothes. It’s making my head spin a little.”
You laugh at his words and gently pull his hair back. Pressing a wet kiss to his exposed throat you ask, “Miggy, how come we haven’t had sex yet?”
“Honestly?” he lets out a choked moan.
“Honestly,” you hum, licking his jaw.
His hands suddenly grab you by the elbows and spin you around on his lap, so his chest is facing your back. His warm breath hits the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. “I haven’t fucked you yet because once I’m inside you,” he whispers into your ear, “I’ll never want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to eat, sleep, work, or be Spider-Man. I think I’ll just want to stay buried in you all the time.”
“Miguel,” you moan, clutching your thighs together.
“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me.”
His large hand slips between your thighs and pushes your legs apart. He turns the chair around until you’re both facing his work desk. “Up,” he commands, slapping the side of your thighs.
You gingerly obey and place your bare feet on the edge of his desk. His hands slip under your shirt, and he fumbles with the knot. Impatient with the knots, he uses a sharp claw to cut through the drawstring. Your breath hitches as he pushes the loose shorts down your legs and off your feet. He wraps his fingers behind your knees and draws your legs apart. He puts his chin over your shoulder and bunches your shirt up to get a good look at your pink underwear. “Baby,” he coos. “You gotta’ let me have this once we are done. A little souvenir for when I’m away.”
Your stomach tightens at his suggestion. You glance at him and then the office door,. “Someone will see us,” you nervously gulp.
“You let me worry about that,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, “and just relax. I’m not gonna’ let anyone else see my girl spread out like this.”
He runs his knuckles down your bare stomach and across the clothed cunt. Electricity shoots up your body and you almost curl up in his arms. Miguel’s fingertips find a quickly dampening spot on the fabric. “Huh,” he huffs. “Is this me or rainwater?”
You cry, arching into his touch.
“I guess it’s just me,” he grins against your shoulder.
He slides your underwear off your legs and tosses it on the table. It lands on a pile of paperwork you had put aside from him earlier in the week. Miguel stops breathing at the sight of your glistening, swollen pussy. A loud moan escapes your throat as his fingers part your folds and glide back and forth. You were sure that the security guards patrolling this floor would have heard you down the hallway. You almost miss his question over the sensations of pleasure spreading through your body.
“Do you want my finger inside you?”
You nod against his cheek and reach behind to clutch a fistful of his hair to brace for impact. He lowers his down until his thick, middle digit is nudging your opening. You must have been soaking his thighs with how easily his digit sinks inside. You bit your lip harshly to contain the sounds threatening to escape your mouth. It’s your turn to hold your breath when Miguel’s other hand begins to stroke your clit. Once, twice, thrice.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You clench around my finger every time I flick your clit.”
Not that you needed proof, but Miguel does it again and you shake with pleasure. “See?” he gasps, and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.
He he pulls back to hold your eyes and you breathe his shaky breaths in. You close your eyes and imagine how it would look to hold his hard cock in your hands while he played with your pussy. He tears you away from your fantasy by hooking his fingers inside on an angle. You almost arch completely off his lap. He moves his free hand away from your clit and presses you back into him. His hard bulge pressed into your ass.
“Here?” Miguel moans and licks your lips. “Tell me where? Right here? Ah, here.”
His fingers find that spot again and he massages his fingers against it. You nod furiously and my hands move to claw forearms. He softly bites your shoulder in retaliation and his free hand resumes working against your clit, picking up rhythm. “Can I put another finger inside?” he asks, breathing hard. “I promise it will feel good.”
“Oh-kay,” you gasp, rocking your hips on his hand.
His index finger slithers into your pussy, and you forget how to speak. You begin to twist and turn in his lap. He pulls away from your clit to press down hard against your stomach so he can keep you in place. You slide your ass over his crotch with every movement of his fingers.
“Mig-Mig-Mig,” you pant, moving your hips to his set rhythm.
“Good? I bet that feels so good.”
“Gah—”
He presses soft kisses onto your cheek as you sink into his arms. You begin to tighten further around him. You realize that this is exactly how you always want to be—full of Miguel’s fingers, touch, and love. His tongue slips into your mouth as his fingers begin curling into you faster. Your moans and groans echo through the office. His left hand leaves your stomach and reaches for your clit again. It takes seven swipes, one for each day he left you alone, for you to seize around his finger. His mouth never leaves yours as he drinks all of your pleasurable cries.
Slowly, the current leaves your body and you’re able to take in your surround. Your cheeks burn with realization. Miguel had just fingered you open on his desk at your workplace. The very same desk you set up for him every morning. Your fingers slide up to his hair and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t be shy now,” he chuckles, “One day I’ll fuck you all over this office, nena.”
You shriek and lightly slap his arm. Miguel gently slides his fingers out of your cunt, eliciting a soft groan, and brings his to his mouth.
He hums with eyes closed at the taste. “You taste so good,” he mumbles around his fingers.
“Ugh,” Lyla gags at a distance. “Be glad I activated noise cancellation.”
A/N: Thoughts?
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usedtobecooler · 1 year
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if it's not with you | tom grant x fem!reader
Pairing | Tom Grant x Fem!Reader
Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, general banter, flirting, all around fluffiness.
Word Count | 5k
A/N | eeeee i'm so excited to share this fic with you all!! honestly i've fallen in love with tom all over again writing this, i hope you all enjoy this flirty fluffy cuteness!!
This caravan park was easily the worst place you’d ever been on holiday to. You couldn’t even lie to yourself — the entertainment area was outdated, the food was far from good, the staff were mostly rude and unhelpful, and the caravan you’d rented for the week was the biggest piece of shit.
Your idea of a nice, relaxing beachside break from the city was basically down the pan the moment you arrived, though you had to admit the one saving grace was in fact the gorgeous beach, barely thirty steps away from your rental, all golden sand and crashing waves. It was peaceful, quiet — the school summer holidays were over so it only left the caravan owners and the odd few stragglers without kids behind. 
Summer was barely clinging on, the nights were beginning to close in fast and the air was feeling that bit crisper once the sun set, like it had done every Summer since you could remember. There was still the odd humid, hot day, and this was one of them. 
Muggy beyond belief, despite the cool sea breeze rolling in from the East. You were sweating, skin feeling sticky as you sunbathed in peace, laid out in a one piece on your towel. Regardless of the factor thirty, you already knew you were going to burn — you always did, no matter what. The harsh rays from the sun were unforgiving to your sensitive skin, leaving you flushed and freckled.
You feel the figure looming over you pretty quickly. The slight darkness on your left hand side as said person blocked the sun. You let out a deep sigh, using your hand as a makeshift sun visor as you open your eyes carefully, squinting up into the sun.
You spy the caravan park logo on his polo shirt immediately — site worker, clearly. He’s all curly hair, pale skinned and a goofy grin on his face as he clutches onto the magazine you’d taken with you to read, obviously blown off in a gust of wind when you’d been blissfully unaware, “Think this was trying to do a runner on you,” His voice is unexpectedly deep, though still chirpy, as he extends his arm out with the magazine rolled up in his hand.
“Thanks, mate,” You bark out a little embarrassed laugh, propping yourself up on an elbow and taking the magazine from him. Your fingers brush, and you can’t help the flush that creeps up to your cheeks at the barely-there touch, “It’s shit anyway — one of them magazines people get paid fifty quid to share their fake stories to, y’know.” 
The man snorts, shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, “I know the ones, my mums obsessed with them. Surely nobody believes the ghost stories?” He’s making conversation, not in any rush to get off, and it’s strange. He’s maybe the second worker you’d encountered who was genuinely an alright person. 
“Oh I know, in this one they’re claiming the ghost made toast in the middle of the night. Didn’t realise they could open a loaf of bread, who’d have thought it?” You humor him, and he properly laughs at that, kicking his toes in the sand as he looks down at you. 
He’s awfully pretty, you notice, as you look up at him properly now the glare of the sun has been blocked a little. Big brown eyes and a freckled nose, tinged pink from too much sun and not enough sunscreen, no doubt. Nice full lips and a cute chin, chains dangling on his neck. Very typical English boy, but that was always your type.
Your mouth runs dry, now that you’re suddenly aware of how attractive this man is and you’ve just called him mate. Ground swallow you now.
“Anyway, I’ve got to get going,” He looks sullen at that, nose scrunching up a little, “Duty calls — these old fuddy-duddies who arrive this time of year always find something to moan about.”
“Well, you enjoy that…” You blush, giggling like a dickhead, suddenly aware of the fact you’re lusting over a man who’s name you don’t even know,  “Sorry, I never got your name. No nametag?”
“Tom,” Tom digs in his pocket, a small triumphant noise escaping him when he pulls the old nametag out between two fingers proudly, showing you it, “I usually don’t wear it. Can’t be fucked when these arseholes complain about the staff and name us to management.” 
“Well, I’ll make sure to name you to the staff when I check out and let them know you were a very helpful young man, Tom,” Your voice drips sarcasm and humour, and you know you’ve got him hook, line and sinker when he bellows a true laugh, throwing his head back and exposing the vast expanse of his neck, veins protruding. Your thighs clench.
You’re both shook out of the little bubble when somebody starts shouting Tom’s name from behind you both, startling you. He rolls his eyes, tapping the watch on his wrist, “Gotta go, darling. You need anything just ask for me personally when you phone, yeah?” 
You nod, dumbstruck as he smiles wide at you, pearly white teeth on display. He takes off in a jog, and for the first time you truly understand the term ‘hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.’ 
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You bump into him again two days later, in the laundry room as you’re banging on the washing machine that currently had four days worth of clothes and underwear locked in it. It’d swallowed your token, locked the doors then refused to start, and you were raging — three quid down the fucking drain, just like that.
He knocks up behind you unexpectedly, his hip catching on the soft flesh of your ass as he leans over to pop a token into it. You suck in a breath and hold it, watching with awestruck eyes as the tendons in his wrist flex when he turns the dial. The machine whirs to life, water beginning to fill the drum in just mere seconds.
“What’d I tell you about just shouting for me if you needed anything?” Tom’s smug, lips so close to your ear they’re almost brushing the shell and you have to literally shove down the gasp that almost makes its way up your throat. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body, and a shiver ripples up your spine. 
“I didn’t expect to need maintenance help for washing my underwear,” You bristle, trying to act calm as he brushes past you and opts for leaning against the machine, hands once again buried deep into his pockets — he’s wearing grey joggers this time, clearly to match the miserable and dreary weather outside. You avert your gaze from the obvious bulge in his trousers, willing yourself to just get a fucking grip.
It doesn’t help when you lock eyes with him, and he’s all gooey brown orbs and long eyelashes. It’s embarrassing how much you fancy him, and now you feel like a right slob — down here in your leggings, hoodie and crocs of all things. Hair up in a messy bun and no makeup on, on account of the severe sunburn on your nose and cheeks.
“C’mon, we’ll go back to the token machine and I’ll get you your money back,” Tom nods towards the door, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You want to tell him you don’t need the money back, but a little part of you wonders — and hopes — that he’s offering to do this so that you have an excuse to wander off with him.
“Sure, lead the way my saviour,” You joke, extending an arm out towards the open door. He scoffs, rolling his eyes with a look that could only be described as fond on his features as he saunters past you. You feel your cheeks heat up, and it’s not from the sunburn this time.
“What’s brought you to Cornwall, then?” He asks conversationally — you’re bumping arms you’re that close, and the corridor isn’t even that narrow, he’s just naturally gravitating towards you. You plod along slowly and he matches your pace, your heart thudding in your chest as your hopes were confirmed; he was being nosey, interested in getting to know you.
“Not much, I like the beach but I live in London so I don’t get to see it much,” You admit, shoving your hands into your hoodie pocket, “I work from home, too. So I thought I’d maybe get some work done whilst I was here. The wifi is shit, by the way.”
Tom winces, shooting you an apologetic look, though it’s clearly a mockery, “Yeah, this place doesn’t have much going for it, darling. Though it’ll give you an excuse to actually enjoy your break instead of worrying about work, right?”
You’re walking so slowly you may as well be at a standstill, and you know it’s because the token machine is barely ten feet away, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” You admit, because it’s true — you’d hardly even thought about your job since you got here, enjoying your time soaking in the sun and the peace away from your roommate, “What about you? You from around here?”
“Born and raised,” Tom shrugs. You glance to the side, watching as his adams apple bobs up and down when he swallows, “I live on the site now, though, have done since I was sixteen. I’m here all year with Kai, you’ve probably seen him around, angry looking dickhead with a buzzcut. A girl called Jade used to live here too but eh, she’s gone now.”
You hum, acknowledging what he’s saying. You want to pry, the way his voice changed when he spoke about this ‘Jade’ character leaves a bitter taste in your mouth — an ex, maybe. But you were basically a stranger to Tom, so why would he explain that to you? 
The both of you stop right at the token machine, and Tom fumbles for his set of keys, flipping them until he finds one with a red tag on it. You watch his hands the entire time, thirsting silently — god, his hands were so nice. For a maintenance guy, they were clean, nails manicured, the skin soft. You could tell he took care of himself, and that made him all the more attractive to you. 
He slips the three pound coins into your hoodie pocket, knocking you out of your daze. His hand bumps against your waist when he pulls it out of said pocket, leaving you feeling flustered. There’s no way he’s just being nice, he’s flirting, albeit subtly. 
“Thank you,” Your voice is breathy, catching in the back of your throat as your eyes search for his again, though it doesn’t take long before his eyes are locking on yours once more, “Don’t know what I’d do without you. Or that three quid, actually, that’ll get me another shitty magazine from the shop and a bottle of Coke.”
Tom laughs, showing off his ridiculously perfect teeth once again, “You’re right, it will. Hopefully the ghost story in this one’s a bit better —” 
There’s a sudden harsh knock on the window behind your head that has you leaping out of your skin. He glances up to where the source of the banging came from, and he’s huffing, rolling his eyes, “Gotta go, darling. Another dickhead to deal with. Remember what I said, need anything just shout for me, yeah? Enjoy your magazine.” 
He lands a soothing hand on your shoulder just barely before he’s taking off, and your skin burns even through the thick material of your hoodie. 
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There’s one day left of your holiday. One miserable day. You hadn’t seen Tom at all since your encounter in the laundry area, and you had to admit you were feeling deflated over it. You hadn’t been avoiding him, in fact quite the opposite, but your paths had just never crossed again. 
The weather was unbearably hot once more, worse than the first day you’d met Tom, not even a breeze coming in off the sea, and you were desperate for a cold shower to rinse off the sweat from your now sunkissed skin.
The caravan door slams shut behind you as you step foot inside, basking in the little bit of cool air in the living area that’d been bathed in shade the entire day. You strip off your two-piece without a second thought — your caravan doesn’t look onto any others, and you don’t see anybody around, so there was nobody to scar when you stripped naked. 
At the beginning of your holiday you didn’t believe you’d ever become accustomed to the tight living quarters, especially the bathroom, but now that you’d been at the park for a week you almost couldn’t imagine going back home to your shitty little flat in Central London. You actually enjoyed the peace and quiet, and you were saddened about leaving.
You couldn’t deny that Tom was part of that, too. Though you’d hardly gotten a chance to know him you were drawn in, and the thought of heading home the next day and never seeing him again was weighing heavy on your shoulders. 
Stepping into the tight shower, you twist the dial to turn on the water, only to be engulfed in a roaring hot heat that has you yelping and gasping. The sharp sting of the scalding hot water hitting your sunburnt chest brings tears to your eyes, your hands flapping to turn the dial back until the stream stops.
You jump out of the shower, grabbing for your fluffy towel that you’d set in the open window that morning, pulling it around your bare body and tucking it in until it’s sat nicely. The ends of your hair drip wet, the water cooling fast, an almost pleasant feeling in comparison to what you just felt.
There’s not a second thought before you’re dialing 0 on the phone in the living area and asking for a maintenance person to come look at the shower, reeling off that the water was scalding hot and had burned you. The person on the other end sounds bored, uninterested and far from shocked when you tell her what happened. You hang up and, in your anger, stick up your middle finger at the phone. 
You didn’t even think to ask for Tom. You perch your ass on the arm of the U-shaped sofa, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and shaking your leg as you wait, wondering who it’d be that showed up to your call. You really, really hoped it’d be him.
Not even five minutes go by before you’re hearing a rapping of knuckles on the glass pane of the door, and you answer it quickly, all street smarts going out the window as you pull the door open just clad in your towel. Tom stands on the narrow step, clutching onto a metal tool box, and you breathe out a sigh of relief that it’s him.
“Fucking hell, that burn looks sore,” Tom looks with bug eyes at your chest, taking in the look of your skin tinged a deep red, much darker than the rest of your sunburnt body. You flush, moving out of the way to let him in, “If you put in a claim for that this place would be shut down.”
He laughs about it, but visibly looks nervous. You can’t help but wonder if, as much as he complained about the job, he genuinely liked it. Or maybe it was all he knew, which was also probably true, considering he had told you he’d been here living since he was just a teenager. A pang in your chest asserts itself at that realisation.
“I wouldn’t worry about that, it’s my own stupid fault for stepping into the shower before turning it on like a silly bitch,” You shake it off, a wobbly little laugh escaping you, “Nothing a bit of lotion won’t fix, Tom.” 
“No, it’s fucking ridiculous that this even happened,” Tom grunts, stepping past you and wandering the short distance into the bathroom. You follow him like a lost puppy, clutching at the top of your towel with one hand, standing in the doorway as you watch him flip his toolbox open, grabbing for something and banging the shower door open. 
“Dunno why they still rent out this caravan every summer there’s so much shit wrong with it, told the manager it was fit for the scrap yard two years ago,” Tom’s conversational, unscrewing the shower tap and fiddling with it as if you’re not standing there basically naked and still slightly damp from your failed attempt at hosing off.
You’re trying to look anywhere but right in his direction. It’s hard, though. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his arm bulging and straining under the tight material of his polo shirt as he uses his wrench to tighten a bolt, “S’okay, I got it pretty cheap. I’m away home tomorrow, didn’t want the next poor sod to get burnt like I did.”
Tom shoots a glance at you, brows marrying for a moment until he’s turning back to the job at hand, “I didn’t realise you were away so soon, fuck sake. If I’d known I would’ve come and seen you earlier. You’re alright, y’know?” 
“Thank you?” It comes out as a question, and you can’t help but feel somewhat offended by his choice of words, “I suppose you’re alright yourself. Probably the only decent member of staff I’ve spoken to this entire week.” 
“Yeah, the nice face and banter are just a bonus, eh?” Tom flashes you his teeth again and it has you rolling your eyes, though a fond smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “Not like those posh London boys, they’re stuffy and boring.”
“You’re right about that,” You agree, watching as he throws the wrench back into the toolbox blindly, the tool landing correctly in its place. It’s now or never, you think, as he screws the tap back on. This is it, after this last chance meeting you’re not gonna see him again. “Who’d have thought something as simple as catching a blown away magazine would have a girl weak at the knees?” 
You cringe at yourself, though Tom’s head shoots around. He looks at you with a confusion etched on his features, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Surely you were being obvious enough, right?
You watch him dumbly step out of the shower, even going as far as to shut the screen door behind him, “What do you mean?” He asks, quirking a brow. Clearly you weren’t being obvious, then. 
“Is it not totally obvious that I’m into you?” You scoff, wanting to lean forward and rattle that devourable looking neck. He’s clearly so clueless, it would actually be kind of endearing if you didn’t find it so infuriating. 
Tom balks at you, taking a step closer to you, which has him almost right up in your face, with how enclosed the space of the bathroom is, “Really? I’m really shit at reading signals, sorry, love.” 
Love. You melt at the pet name, going all gooey. You take your chance, fingers tugging at your towel until it’s loosening on your body. He watches you with curious eyes that soon turn lust filled, when you let the towel drop to the floor and pool around your feet.
You blush under his intense gaze, taking in the swell of your tits, the pebble of your nipples, the curve of your hips, the mound of your cunt. He takes another step, so you’re basically toe to toe, and he exhales loudly.
“Not done this for a while,” Tom admits, as his large hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to him until your naked body is flush against him, the soft material of his worn-in work polo a pleasant feeling against your skin, “Can I kiss you?” 
You nod, far too fast, too eager, but he clearly doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in until his plump lips are capturing yours. You melt into it, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him in closer, fingers burying in the hair at the nape of his neck.
Tom deepens the kiss quickly, tongue running over your bottom lip and you open up willingly, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. His own tongue glides along yours deliciously, has your pussy clenching and your legs shaking. He moves you blindly backwards, like he knows the entire layout of this caravan — which he probably does, has probably been here many a time.
The backs of your legs hit the bed and you let yourself fall backward, opening your legs for Tom to nudge between them, one hand still on your waist tightly, other slipping down your leg, fingertips digging into the meat of your thigh. You shiver, unable to contain it, the feeling of the hands you’d thought about so much the last week finally on you was almost enough to drive you crazy.
Tom’s hand skates higher and higher up your thigh, until he’s cupping the heat of your cunt. He’s the one to break the kiss, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes properly, like he’s looking for confirmation that you’re still good and you’re okay to keep going, “You okay if I touch you?” 
You melt. You nod, and he dives in, kissing the side of your neck with spit-slick lips, leaving you gasping and writhing below him. He bumps his hips down into you, and you feel the outline of his hard cock brushing against your inner thigh.
Suddenly, your carnal desire for him overcomes your every being, your hands falling from the back of his neck to fist into his shirt, bunching up big handfuls of the material, “C’mon, you too?” You beg, voice whiny, completely distracted by how Tom bites and kisses at your neck, “Need to see you too.” 
He sits back on his haunches, smirking down at you, hands leaving your body and in turn leaving you cold — though it’s not for long, as you watch him pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He dives back down into you quickly, bumping those godforsaken hips down against your pussy this time, leaving you gasping.
That stupid, shit eating grin never leaves his face until he’s burying his face back into your neck, peppering your skin with kisses, hand nudging between your legs again, until the pads of two of his fingers finally dip in between your slick folds, gathering your juices on them. He grunts against you, rutting his hips down again, “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He mumbles, caught off guard by it.
“Mmph, all for you,” You gasp, breath catching in your throat when he finds the swollen, sensitive bud of your clit and starts rubbing in small, tight circles, until your hips are pushing up into the air, “Oh God —!”
You lose yourself in the feeling of Tom lathering you in kisses, the way his plump lips ghost along the stinging, burnt skin of your chest and soothe it, his fingers working on your clit until your cunt is gushing wetter than before. He’s so sensual, passionate, taking the most attentive care to your body, and it’s driving you wild.
“You feel so good on my fingers,” Tom groans in between kisses, looking at you with those pretty, chocolate brown eyes, now mostly blackened with lust, “Can’t wait to feel you on my cock, babe.” 
You squeal, a moan punching out of you when his fingers leave your clit just barely to dip into the entrance of your pussy and glide back up, taking some of your milky wetness with them. You clench, quivering at his words, a deep heat blooming in the pit of your belly, alarmingly fast, “I’m so close,” You admit, losing yourself in the pleasure of Tom’s fingers catching on your clit, winding you up tight, tight, tight.
Tom kisses the swell of your breast, lips dragging down until they latch onto your nipple, licking and sucking until you’re crying out. He can’t take his eyes off of you, watching every contortion of your face as he makes you fall apart. Your fingers grip into his curls, tugging lightly until he’s groaning, vibrations echoing up your chest.
His fingers work at that same torturing pace, sliding in circles until you’re arching off the bed slightly, coil in your tummy snapping, your entire body tensing and going lax just as fast as your orgasm washes over you, a gush of slick slipping from your hole as you shake through it.
Tom works you through it until you’re jerking away, fingers unwinding from his hair and pushing at his shoulders instead. He presses a light kiss to your nipple, pulling himself up and slipping his fingers from your cunt, “Was that okay?” He asks, though he’s smiling, proud of himself, clearly.
You nod, catching sight of the prominent bulge in his grey joggers, sudden desperation to get to his cock overtaking you — you lean up, tugging at the waistband of the offending material until it’s bunched around his thighs, uncut cock springing out proudly, you gasp, “No underwear? You always wander around like this, you slag?”
Tom laughs, shaking his head, “No, I wasn’t on shift but took the call because I knew this was your caravan,” He admits, and you giggle, a little swell of pride in your chest. That little admission was enough for you, he did like you as much as you liked him. 
He dives back into you, capturing your lips with his own, and you take that opportunity to get a feel for his cock, deft fingers blindly wrapping around the length and giving him an experimental tug, pulling the foreskin back. He gasps into your mouth as you work him up and down, your thumb swiping over the tip, and he’s punching his hips into your hand.
“Keep doing that an’ I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you,” He mumbles against your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip just a little. You take that as your cue to stop, hand dropping from his cock and instead wrapping around his bicep.
He makes a show of it, like an arsehole, grabbing a hold of his cock and sliding the tip through the mess of your cunt, catching on your clit and gliding it back down, until you’re gasping and silently begging for it, digging your nails into the meat of his tanned arms.
“C’mon, Tom. Please?” You whisper, looking up at him with pleading eyes, and he takes the bait — he slips his cock into you in one fluid motion, until his balls are flush against your ass. You couldn’t have been prepared for the sheer thickness of him stretching you from the inside out, a gasp escaping you when the head of his cock brushes along your frontal wall.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Tom moans, burying his head into the other side of your neck this time, kissing and biting at your flesh until it’s raised. He pulls out, slamming back into you to the hilt, and you clench around him, unable to help it, the curved head of his cock brushing against the spongey part of your cunt perfectly, “God, babe, don’t do that, I’ll cum so quick.”
You moan, clenching around him again until he’s groaning, fucking in and out of you properly, your cunt sucking him in, gushing around his length. You’re overwhelmed by the feeling of him all over you, his lips and teeth on your neck, his hair tickling your face, his toned torso crushing down into yours, his cock sliding in and out of the tight heat of your pussy.
“You feel so good around me, fuck,” Tom’s mumbling against you, words almost getting lost in your skin, but you’re fucking melting for it, the praises having you keening up into him.
You feel your orgasm building quickly, unaware of how loud you’re moaning until Tom’s picking up the pace of his thrusts, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing in the room, the wet schlick of your pussy mixing with the other sinful noises. 
“M’gonna cum,” You cry, tears pricking at your eyes as your tummy blooms with heat once again, orgasm building a lot quicker this time than the last time, and Tom pulls himself away from the crevice of your neck, looking at you with his lust blown eyes, swollen red lips open in a constant moan, “Fuck, Tom, s’good, so good,”
You’re babbling and Tom groans, fucking you so rough you’re sliding up the bed — your high hits you so hard you see stars, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt flutters and gushes around the girth of Tom’s cock, fingernails biting into his arms so hard that you know you’re going to leave behind broken skin.
“Oh shit, oh fuck,” Tom’s voice goes high pitched, eyes rolling into his skull as your pussy grips him like a vice, and he’s coming too, hips stuttering as he paints your walls in his release, cock pulsing in the tight heat of your cunt.
You mewl, spent body giving into everything. You feel like you’re floating, unable to comprehend what just happened. Tom’s looking down at you with this big dopey grin and you smile back, leaning up to kiss him languidly as his spent cock goes soft.
Tom slips out of you with a hiss, collapsing down next to you, chest still heaving on breath, “You sure you’ve gotta go home tomorrow, darling?” He asks, voice quiet as he tugs you into him, those big arms engulfing you in a tight cuddle. Your whole body melts into his, your mind blank of anything but him. Maybe you didn’t have to go home just yet. 
“I suppose I could see about hanging around for another week… or two,” You admit, and Tom cackles in triumph, squeezing you tighter until you’re giggling into his chest, heart swelling.
939 notes · View notes
stevenose · 10 months
Text
don’t delete the kisses - 5/?
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a camboy!steve au
this installment contains: camboy!steve; confessions!!!; heavy petting/making out!; a rude interruption!
authors note: we made it to the chapter besties! hope you likey :) more to come ofc! as always feedback slays and is so important to me and my menal healf
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you’re still alive when steve checks on you an hour later. you’re laying sideways, head pressed into his pillow, looking at your phone. his heart skips, slides up and catches in his throat. he’s quiet when he shuts the door, and you sigh loudly, an acknowledgment of his presence.
“you doin’ okay?” he asks softly, approaching. he grabs his streaming chair and pulls it in to sit close.
you groan and throw your phone down face first. “ugh.”
“that good?”
“i’m gonna kill him,” you mumble. “so embarrassing.”
“hey,” he says, hand twitching to touch yours. “no one’s even talked about it.”
you squint at him. well, you’re already squinting, but you squint harder. “don’t lie.”
“honest,” he says, holding out his damn pinky.
you begrudgingly take it, and you both hold on to the other for a moment too long. your stomach flips - you’ve been awake for about ten minutes and already had to talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. you never could have dreamed of being in steve’s bed. but being in steve’s bed because you can’t handle your weed? that never ever crossed your mind.
it was disorienting. you only remember a few fragments of being in here, of steve tucking you in. you don’t know how much time has passed. “everyone go home?”
steve laughs. “it’s been an hour.”
you sigh. “explains why i still feel like shit.” you want to roll your eyes at his worried expression, but it’s still incredibly sweet. “i’m good, promise. probably can go home toni-“
“no.” he says it so confidently. “jesus, i knew you were going to say that.”
“well, i think i can!”
“absolutely not! no. no. you can have my bed-“
“don’t be ridiculous,” you huff. it’s still hard to speak without slurring. “if you stole my keys-“
“i did.”
“then i’ll sleep on the floor.”
“well, we can just share the bed.”
a silence falls over the room. it feels like you’ve been dunked in cold water.
“it’s a king,” he adds sheepishly.
you’re still quiet. you hate when he’s right, and you hate that you can’t go home, and you hate that you might have to share a bed with him. you hate yourself for smoking so much when you should have listened to him. and you hate not knowing what happened within the last hour.
“i hope i didn’t say anything stupid,” you say suddenly. you need confirmation.
and you truly expect to get a brushed off “no” or a scoff. but steve pauses. opens his mouth, then stammers a little. “n-no, nothing stupid.”
you’re panicking now, forcing yourself to sit up. “steve,” you urge, “what did i do?”
“nothing! nothing bad -“
“what did i say?”
you can tell his mind’s running too quick for his voice to catch up with. “you - uh. mmm. you - well, you said something about my bedsheets.”
“your bedsheets?”
steve swallows hard. he seems just as panicked as you. “you said they used to be checkered.”
you’re not totally sober, so you’re not entirely sure what the implication is. because his sheets were checkered and now they’re this boring navy -
“oh.” it’s more to yourself than him. you remember how you knew that now.
“and - and something about my dumb bowling pin?”
you’re frozen. you swallow anxiously. you don’t know what to say.
“how did you know about those?” steve scoots his chair in a little closer. he’s stressed, too. and you know you should tell him the truth, but how could you?
“you’ve told me about ‘em,” you say nervously. “i’ve seen pictures.”
“i went through our texts. i never sent any pictures and i’ve never told you about them.”
“in person, then.”
he purses his lips. “i don’t think so.”
you’re gnawing on your bottom lip and it’s right about to bleed. steve leans forward and gingerly pops it out from between your teeth. his hand lingers on your cheek. “did you watch me?”
his voice is low and soft. it’s an accusation, but it doesn’t sound like it. he just seems confused - maybe a little hopeful.
your panic increases, especially with his skin on yours, but you’re stuck. trapped. you swallow again before tears spring up in your eyes. “i’m sorry.”
“hey,” he says, putting his other hand on your face, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over. “it’s okay. i told you to, didn’t i? pestered you for weeks, ‘course you did.”
despite his comfort, he’s panicking. he’s damn near incriminated himself of jacking off to you, and you might’ve seen it. “just a peak, huh? no way you paid. right?”
you just stare, a few more tears falling.
his face falls. “right?”
you take in a deep breath and push his hands down away from your face. his closeness is overwhelming. “i just got curious. okay? wanted to see, so i - i paid for the basic access and i watched a few.” you’re such a fucking liar, but he doesn’t need to know how much money you’ve spent. how you’ve egged him on. he doesn’t need that right now. if ever. “i know - i’ve totally broken your trust and i’m so sorry. i feel so gross about it, steve, i haven’t watched in a month. christ, that sounds so pathetic -“
“a month?” he interrupts. he looks like he’s seen a ghost. “well - wait, when did you start?”
your lip’s between your teeth again, but this time he doesn’t nudge it back out. “remember when… when i started to act weird at work?”
he processes the time before slowly leaning back in his chair, exhaling heavily. he runs his hand through his hair. “how much did you see?” he asks after a moment.
your face feels like it’s caught on fire and you look at the collar of his shirt to avoid his eyes. “a lot.”
“how much is a lot?”
you look at him pathetically. “i’m sorry.” you almost sob. “i know i’m a pervert and it’s so fucked up of me, i never should have looked, steve. just got - fuck, i just got so - i don’t know. i don’t know.”
you wish he’d say anything. that he would kick you out or yell at you. but he just stares until you’re about to scream.
“i’ll go,” you start, sniffling, but steve suddenly leans forward again. he rests a hand on your thigh.
“do you know what i think about?”
you blink. “what?”
“do you have any idea what i think about when i touch myself?”
you pause and shake your head. you feel so small when he’s looking at you like this.
“i think about you.”
you blink again. “i’m sorry?”
“if anyone’s the pervert,” he says, voice low. you have to lean in to hear him, your noses almost colliding, “it’s me. i’ve been fucking myself on camera to the thought of you for months. i’ve tried, i have - i’ve tried so hard to not think about you, but - well, you’re kind of all i think about, anyway.”
it’s as if all the air in your lungs was sucked out. you can’t even think of what to say. you’re so shocked and god, you’re aroused by it, by the confirmation that the coworker he was moaning about was you. “wow,” is what you come up with.
“yeah,” he says, laughing nervously. “wow.”
you spend some time evening your breathing. you’re thankful steve isn’t pushing, as nervous as he looks. he opens his mouth to apologize, but you speak over him.
“i’ve touched myself to you, too.”
it makes him shiver, skin pebbling. he can’t fucking believe it. “say it again,” he whispers after a beat.
you want to die. “i’ve touched myself to you.”
“like -?”
“like. i watched you and i’d….”
another silence. downstairs, you hear people cheering. they must be playing a game.
steve’s chair squeaks as he shuffles in it. he licks his lips. “are you high?” he asks.
“a little,” you admit. “but - it’s all true.”
he nods. “are you okay?”
“i’m fine, i think.”
he nods again, his eyes flicking down to your bitten lips. “tell me you want me.”
your brows furrow. “what?”
he leans in further. your noses finally bump. he smells like hairspray and coca cola and that stupidly expensive cologne he bragged about last week - the one you’ve been missing since you first smelled it. “i’ll give you everything. just tell me - tell me you want me. please.”
your foreheads touch. his breath is hot against your lips. you’re scared, terrified, but you know the truth. “i need you, steve.”
kissing steve is the opposite of what you’d dreamed of. you thought it’d be rough and fast and instead, he’s slow and gentle. certainly knows what he’s doing. you sigh, hands reaching to rest around his neck. he pulls back after a moment, pupils blown. “say it again.”
you giggle, high now on his attention and affection. “i need you, steve.”
now you’re on your back, and he’s kissing you like you’d imagined. still methodical, still calculated, but harder and faster. it’s hard to keep up, but you do, months of admiration catching up to you both. you can’t believe it, not even entirely sure this isn’t a hallucination. half convinced that you’ll snap out of it and be laying in his bed fucked up all over again.
“you have no idea-“ he says against your lips. “-how fucking long i wanted to hear that.” he climbs over you, helping you scoot back so he can place a knee between your thighs. “when did you stop watching? tell me, please, gotta know.”
“i - oh my - when -“ he cuts you off with a kiss and you squeak, speaking when he pulls back enough. “like a month ago, after the stream - when - oh my god.”
his knee’s pressed right between your legs now, giving you enough to grind down on. he’s moving like he’s insatiable, his lips now trailing down your jaw and to your neck. “tell me,” he repeats.
“i was on that st-stream — mmm — when you didn’t get to cum - trying to hit your goal -“
“fuck,” he moans, pulling back. “when you texted me? you were fucking watching?”
you feel evil. “sorry i ruined your orgasm.”
“holy shit,” he breathes. “honey - you should’ve kept watching.” his lips are back on your neck, hands pawing at your shirt. “came to you so many times. just about said your name in some of ‘em. had to bite it back - felt so fucked up after. i think i’m addicted to you.”
steve sucks a hickey into your skin and you moan loudly. he puts a hand over your mouth and you’re shocked at how hot it is. “shhh, gotta be quiet, don’t want someone to walk in, huh?”
you shake your head and he shakes his, too. “can’t believe this. thought you hated me or something.” he takes his hand away for you to answer, moving back to your neck.
“i - no, i - how could i? i just - i was worried, didn’t think - didn’t know - and i was b-breaching your p-privacy.”
“i wanted you to,” he mumbles into your skin. “so bad. y’know how hard it was that night when we almost-? after i took you out?”
“that’s being very generous,” you breathe, “considering the company th- that was there.”
“only wanted you to come,” he admits. “didn’t want to make you uncomfortable - i really didn’t think - blowin’ my mind that you’re under me right now. that you -“ he laughs. “that you sabotaged a stream.”
“hope i can make it up to you.”
steve grins. “think you will.”
he’s kissing down your neck again, to your collarbone, nipping at it. “eddie made me so fuckin’ mad,” he continues, “touching you like that.”
you gasp as his thumbs roll over your nipples. you feel lightheaded. “i know. you’ve got an expressive face, y’know.”
he scoffs. “no i don’t.”
“whatever,” you smile. your fingers move to dig into his shoulder blades. “eddie - he told me you talked to him ‘bout making me uncomfortable.”
steve looks up, sheepish again. “well, didn’t he?”
“not at all. it was hot watching you get irritated.”
he rolls his eyes.
“like that,” you smile.
“you played so hard to get,” he murmurs, pressing his knee against you harder, making you gasp. “come on, show me how hot.”
you throw your head back as you grind against him, his hands moving under your shirt. “wasn’t intentional.”
“i know.” his hands stop right below where you want them. “you can trust me, okay? i really like you. too much. robin’s been riding me about it forever. i - honestly, i felt a little crazy without having you.”
your stomach flips and you grind down on his leg again. “yeah? me, too.”
a sudden bang on the door. it makes you both jump. “harrington!” eddie’s shouting.
steve squeezes his eyes shut. “do you ever shut up?” he shouts over his shoulder.
“emergency!”
“what?” he snaps.
“we’re out of beer!”
you burst into laughter at the look of shock and anger on steve’s face. he looks back down at you and starts laughing with you, anger melting.
“i’m dying out here!”
“don’t you have some fucked up weed to smoke instead?” you shout.
you hear eddie gasp. “they live!”
“your shouting woke them from the dead!” steve admonishes.
“guess we have to cut it short?” you ask, cradling his face in your hand.
“guess so,” he sighs. “might be a good thing.”
you falter. “why?”
“need you to myself,” he mumbles, leaning forward, nose on nose. “wanna be the only one hearing the sounds you make.”
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426 notes · View notes
strniohoeee · 6 months
Text
Crass
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Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Y/N hates Chris with every fiber in her body, but one night while clubbing things take a turn🤭
Warnings⚠️: SMUTTTTTT, hate sex?? Fucking in a public place, enemies to lovers-ish??? Mann idk it’s just sum sweet for the kids (hope yall know that meme. I do not write for kids)🤞🏽
Song for the imagine: Rude Boy- Rihanna
⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️
I like the way you touch me there
I like the way you pull my hair
Babe, if I don’t feel it I ain’t faking no, no
Can’t remember the last time Chris and I ever got along. He was such a fucking dick always, and I was a bitch. Everyone tried to keep us apart most of the time.
I wasn’t exactly too sure why I hated him. It could be the fact that he thought he was untouchable, hot and his ego was bigger than his fuck ass hair. I really had it out for the guy
I hate any guy who acts like they’re all that, and that their shit doesn't stink. It made my blood boil because who are you? You're a nobody go away. Chris was the textbook definition of this
Actually Chris was the definition of toxic masculinity. Every ick a guy could give you was exactly what Chris was. If some of these girls knew half of who he really was they’d leave his ass in the dirt.
I was Nicks friend, but he came as a package deal with his loving sweet brother Matt, and that fucking gremlin Chris. Usually my interactions with him included me rolling my eyes at him, huffing at his words and full on walking away while he was in the middle of speaking. Because it’s like shut the fuck up, you know?
Tonight Nick asked me to come to the club with them because Nick really wanted to dance. Weird ass request but I agreed…it’s dancing with Nick I had to go
I had gone to the triplets house while they were all getting ready. I let myself in, and walked to Nicks room where Matt and Chris were also at
“Hiii” I said walking in
“Ughhhh” Chris said groaning and throwing his head back
“Shut the fuck up” I said throwing my purse at him
“Why are you always tagging along” he said
“In case you didn’t know Nick invited me first, and then I presumed you were being an ass eater and had to come too” I said giving him a bitchy smile
“Whatever” he said rolling his eyes
“Exactly” I said laughing at him
“Mattttt you look so cute” I said looking at his outfit
“Thank youuu” he said smiling at me
“And me?” Chris asked
“Who gives a fuck about you” I said giving him a dirty look
“Y/N what color shirt?” Nick asked me holding up two shirts a purple one and a green one
“Purple all the way” I said to him
“Great minds think alike” he said nodding at me, and walked to the bathroom to put the shirt on
“Y/N thinking? Who would’ve thought” Chris said scoffing
“You’re lucky you’re nicks brother because if not I would’ve laid your ass out by now” I said looking at him
“Guys no fighting” Matt said
“Yeah sure…” Chris said scoffing
“You don’t know my past, I beat up guys like you” I said looking at him
“Whole lot of yapping shut it” Chris said kicking my back
“You fucking dick that hurt” I said reaching back and pinching his leg
“Ow you bitch” he said pulling his leg away
“Enough fighting for once holy shit” Nick said coming out of the bathroom
“Tell your dog of a brother to chill out before I clock his shit” I said to Nick
“Chris be nice for once” Nick said looking at him
“I’ll try, but I can’t make no promises” he said smiling
We had all piled into their car, and headed downtown to the clubs. When we arrived we walked to the one that looked the safest for Nick and I.
We headed in and found a table to sit at in the back. We ordered some drinks, and once we drank them Nick and I went up to the dance floor to dance
We were dancing to Pour it Up by Rihanna singing and dancing on each other.
“THROW IT THROW IT UP WATCH IT FALL OUT” we screamed as we danced
Once the song ended we headed back to the table
“Fuck I love dancing” I said sitting down and drinking my water
“Me fucking too” Nick said catching his breath
All of a sudden Bottoms Up started playing
“FUCKKKK THIS IS MY SHIT” Nick and I screamed
We had gotten up and danced to the song for like two minutes before needing another break.
We sat back down, and was bopping to the song
Right as it got to Nicki’s part Nick started recording, and turned the camera on me, so I started rapping
“I’m with a bad bitch, he’s with his friends” I said pointing over to Chris, and Nick recorded it
“I don’t say hi, I say keys to the Benz” I said sticking my hand out at Chris
Nick started recording Chris and Matt and himself, and then flipped it back to me
“YELLIN all around the world, do you hear me? DO YOU LIKE MY BODY? ANNA NICKI” I said rubbing my hands all over my body
Nick finished recording and posted it to his instagram story, and by this point Rude Boy by Rihanna started playing
“WE HAVE TO DANCE” I said to Nick
“I’m sooo tired I’ll get the next one” he said fanning himself
“Chris?” I asked him randomly, he looked at me before nodding, and following me to the dance floor
I started singing to him
“Come here rude boy, boy, can you get it up?” While swaying my hips
He pulled me in whispering in my ear
“Be careful how you sing at me” he said
“Don’t flatter yourself rude boy” I said winking at him
I went to walk away, but he pulled me back slamming my back against his
“You want to dance, so fucking dance” he said sternly sending a shiver down my spine. I wonder if this was the three drinks I had making me feel this way
He held me by stomach against him while I grinded up against him, and he followed his hips with mine
I spun around swaying my hips and dragging my hands down his body as I went lower, and then came back up swaying my hips while looking into his eyes
“You’re sexy as fuck when you do that” he said leaning in
“I must be mistaken, is Chris Sturniolo being nice to me?” I said turning around and grinding against him again
“Don’t push your luck baby” he said gripping my waist
I continued to sway my hips against hip, and let my head fall back onto his shoulder
I looked over at him, and he was looking at me already
“Kiss me I know you want to” I said with a smirk
Suddenly Chris lips crashed to mine, and we began to have a heated make out session as he ran his hands up and down my body as we danced
Soon we pulled away, and I looked at him before walking off the dance floor and heading back to the table
“What the fuck was that?” Matt asked shocked
“I have no fucking idea” I said closing my eyes and shaking my head
“Still hate me?” Chris said walking up from behind me
“Shut up…you got lucky” I said looking at him
“I’m going to the bathroom” I said walking away
I got to the bathroom, and there was only two girls ahead of me, it was a single stall
When it was my turn, as soon as I got in and locked the door I heard banging on the door. I unlocked it and opened it seeing Chris
“What the fuck?” I said, and before I could react Chris shoved his way into the bathroom locking the door behind him
“You hate me so much just fuck me already” he said walking over to me
“Why would I fuck you?” I said rolling my eyes
“You don’t look at me, touch me and kiss me like that and think it’s fine” he said
“Come on then Chris I can take you” I said smirking at him
He ran up to me crashing our lips together, and slamming me against the wall with a thud
We began to make out sloppy, my hands raking through his hair and him grabbing my body harshly with want and need
“Getting handsy are we?” I said pulling away
“Stop being a tease already” he said rolling his eyes
“Where’s the fun in that” I said
“Fuck I hate you so much” he said biting his lip and smashing his lips to mine again
Going down to my neck leaving sloppy wet kisses
“Fuck Chris” I moaned out throwing my head back against the wall
“We have to be quick” he said coming back up to look at me
“Yeah okay” I said in bliss
Chris hiked my dress up, and unbuckled his belt sliding his pants and boxers down enough for his dick to spring out
“Such a slut, letting me fuck you in here” he said slipping his hand into my underwear rubbing my clit
“Fuck Chris” I moaned out looking into his eyes
“Just fuck me already, I hate you I don’t want this to go on longer than it needs to” I said through gritted teeth
“You might hate me, but you’ll love this dick” he said smirking at me
“Arrogant fuck” I said
“Annoying bitch” he said back
He lifted up my right leg, bring his dick to my entrance and slowly inserting himself into me
“Shiitttt” I moaned out wrapping my hands around his neck
He lifted both my legs up completely holding me up against the wall by fucking into me
“Mmm for someone who hates me so much you sure are taking my dick well” he said moaning out
“Just because I hate you doesn’t mean you’re not hot” I said moaning and licking my lips
“Oh she thinks I’m hot” he said
“If you weren’t balls deep in me right now I would’ve smacked the shit out of you” I moaned out throwing my head back
“Play nice baby” he said thrusting into me faster and harder
“Fuckkk Chris this feels so good” I said
“You feel so good around me baby” he moaned out
Chris was thrusting into me at an ungodly pace, and I hope no one was outside waiting for this bathroom
“All it takes was for my dick to be in you to get you to play nice” he said cockily
“You’re lucky your dick game is strong because I hate you so fucking much right now” I said
“The feelings mutual babe, nothing new here” he said huffing out
“Shut the fuck up” I said
“You’re so annoying” he said back
Chris started to pound into me even harder causing my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and my mouth to fall slack
“I’m going to cum holy shit” I moaned out letting my head fall forward
“Yeah baby cum on my cock. I know it’s all you’ve ever wanted” he said with a cocky grin
“Don’t boost your ego” I panted out
He kept pounding into me, and I started to clench down on him. My toes pointing in my shoes and my thighs beginning to shake
“FUCKKKK IM CUMMINGGG” I screamed out allowing my thighs to shake, and my pussy to clench around Chris cock
I was coming down from my high, my eyes still shut, my mouth still open and my breathing heavy.
Chris pulled out and helped me down on the ground. Pumping his cock in his hand, and suddenly he came into his hand his lower abdomen constricting and his brows furrowing as his mouth fell slack
“Fuck Y/N” he said fucked out
I had fixed my underwear and slid my dress back down
“I still fucking hate you” I said looking in the mirror and fixing myself up
“I fucking hate you too don’t worry” he said pulling his pants up with his other hand, and coming over to wash his hands
“Friends with benefits?” I asked him
“Only if we’re only fucking each other” he said drying his hands
“Ohhh territorial?” I asked him
“You’re mine” he said
“I thought you hated me?” I asked
“Oh I do, don't get it twisted” he said fixing his belt
“Mmm sounds like you have a crush” I said fixing my makeup
“Do not” he said rolling his eyes
“It’s okay Chris I have a crush too” I said winking at him
“I don’t like you” he said rolling his eyes at me
“Yeah keep telling yourself that….” i said getting ready to leave the bathroom
I had unlocked the door, and shockingly nobody was waiting. I walked out, and Chris followed after. Coming up behind me grabbing my hand and interlocking our fingers
“Mmmm but no crush?” I asked him
“Don’t push it” he said giving me a stern look
We got back to the table and Nick and Matt were looking at us with smirks on their face
“Hope yall fucked the hate out” Matt said
“Mmm fucked, but the hates still there” I said shrugging my shoulders
“Yall are absolute dogs” Nick said laughing
“What can I say” Chris said shrugging his shoulders
We had decided to head out, and head home. For someone who hates me Chris sure did enjoy having me staying in his room that night…..
The End
Alright guys I hope you enjoyed this one because I sure did……am I becoming a Chris girl??? LMAOO HELL NAH I KNOW WHERE HOME IS I LOVE YOU MATT🧎🏽‍♀️🖤
-J💅🏽
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byechristopher · 5 months
Note
loveeed your fwb chris headcanons can you do a confession fic ab it that is all angsty and shit where he’s high and confesses or where reader confesses? whatever you want
I Want More.
– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.
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Author's note: thank you so much for the request! I hope you all like it, cuties.🤍 Mwuah. Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol, nothing too much!
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"No strings attached, okay? You can hook up with other people if you want, it's none of my business."
"I wouldn't actually mind being with you, you know?"
"Well, yes, I'm just.. relationships are not for me. Sorry."
The words that he said to me when we first started appear in my head every single time he is in my sight. It could be because it hurt so much that I cannot forget, it could also be for the better – because to get hurt is the only way to move on, apparently. Whichever it was, it hurt.
His hand wakes me up from my thoughts when it goes up to my hair, stroking it, "wanna meet tonight?" Chris whispers in my ear, our whole friend group is next to us but he doesn't really seem to care anyway.
"Yes. My house." I nod and he smiles, his hand rubbing up and down my thigh.
And tonight comes. He's all over me, inside me, I kiss him everywhere, he's rough and I love it, I pull his hair, he squeezes me, I scratch his skin, it's messy. One of those nights, that we both need to let it out. Once we're done, he pulls me into a big hug, his hand bringing mine close to his mouth so that he can kiss it.
"You're beautiful." he says and my heart beats a little faster at that. It's amazing; that power that he has on me.
"So are you." I whisper.
He leaves. My hearts shatters.
Another day, we're hanging out again. He's stealing kisses with every chance that he gets, my cheek, my neck, my shoulder. He caresses my thighs under the blanket, he plays with my fingers.
I tell him I want him. I whisper.
"My house, 8PM." he says.
And again, 8PM comes, I'm at his house, he's alone. He takes me by the hand and makes me follow him to his room – he's got candles all over the room, flowers. Is this a dream?
I can't wait, I can't keep my hands to myself. I slowly hug him from behind, kissing from the nape of his neck, all the way down to his lower back, undressing him very slowly. He does the same thing to me too. The night goes on, he's so slow, so gentle, he's filling me with his love and its so overwhelming that I want to cry, he seems overwhelmed too. He whispers sweet nothings in my ear and touches me with ways no one has ever done before. He tells me he loves me. I hold on to him and we both look desperate and filled with love for each other as he makes love to me.
When we're done, the dream is over. He's still holding me, he's still whispering his usual i love you's in my ears but there's something inside me that weighs me down, something that can utterly destroy me, "Chris. I think we need to stop this thing between us." he freezes.
"What? Why?" he whispers.
"I don't feel like doing it anymore, sorry. It's for the better." I try to be as cold as possible, because if I actually say all the things I want to say, I feel like I will scream and cry till my voice is lost.
It's been quite a few days since we last spoke and every time I think about it, the image of him covering himself with his blanket, looking devastated when I left, always comes to mind. I feel bad but I need to be selfish this time.
A call rudely interrupts my thoughts and I sigh – a call? It's 3AM. I check the screen and I see his name. My hearts races.
"Hello?"
"Come outside. I want to see you." he almost slurs. He's either drunk, or high. Or both.
"Go back home, Chris. I wanna sleep."
"I'm not leaving. Please." he sniffles.
I sigh and hang up. I walk towards the door and I stand there for a few seconds, taking a deep breath before opening it.
There he is. With his hoodie and his jeans. His eyes are red and his hair is a mess.
"You'll get cold. Go home." I whisper and he comes closer.
"I don't care. I wanted to be with you." his voice is hoarse.
"Why?" I look at him, hugging myself because shit, it actually is very cold.
"We need to talk." he nods to himself.
"We have nothing to talk about, Chris. You made it very clear that you wanted nothing but sex. I did, too. But I knew I felt something deeper." I say and he comes closer but I stop him, "no. I am talking. You kept messing with my head, making love to me, getting all romantic and shit, bringing flowers everywhere – that's not how friends with benefits are, Chris." I sigh.
He chews on his bottom lip nervously, "I don't know how to do this. I thought you liked how things were." he says.
"I did! But it got too much for me, Chris. I want more. And until you grow a pair and admit to yourself that you are able to fall in love too, that you want this as much as I do, I want nothing to do with you." I clear my throat.
He clenches his jaw and I notice that his eyes are glistening, like he is about to cry, "so is this the end?"
"I suppose so. Yes." I desperately try to gold back my own tears. He nods and turns around. He's not moving just yet but I can't watch him leave again, so I close the door behind him and I feel my world crumbling.
What was I thinking? That I would change him? That he would finally admit that he loves me too? That we would live the dream together? That he would just give me a kiss and tell me that he wants to be with me? How embarrassing.
That's it.
The next day, my heart hurts like a bitch, but I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest for once. Maybe it's because I finally told him how I felt. And maybe because I got an answer, too – he doesn't want to be with me. It hurts, but it's an answer.
A knock on the door wakes me up again and I walk towards it, only to see an envelope. Someone must've pushed it inside. I get a little scared to open the door right away and I don't have a peephole so I just decide to open the envelope.
"I decided that since I have never been able to talk about my feelings, because I'm too much of a fucking coward, I will just write everything down and I will have to find the courage to give it to you.
I don't know why I've got such a problem expressing my feelings like a fucking adult should, but I can't stand the thought of losing you, let alone losing you because of me being a coward. So this letter is for you (I know how much you like all this sappy shit and worst part is, you made me like them too).
I've been in love with you since the day we started "officially" being friends with benefits. You know I couldn't keep my hands off of you, or my eyes. I would get jealous and possessive because you know I never want anyone else to touch you like I do. Or see you like I do. I made love to you because this was the only way to express my love for you – your heart would beat so fast and I would want to cry from how much you filled me with love and passion. Is that normal? I honestly don't know.
Anyways, for an asshole who doesn't know how to speak properly, I think I've written enough. If you think that this letter is me finally growing a pair, then please open the door because it's really fucking cold.
PS – this time my i love you's are changed."
I am ugly crying by the time I finish the letter, but I don't care because I open the door and Chris is outside, crying as well.
"I can't lose you. I promise, I will try for you. I will do anything for you." he whispers.
I quickly throw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, hugging him so tightly that if I was stronger, he would stop breathing for sure, "I love you, Chris."
"I am in love with you too."
"Your handwriting still sucks."
"Fuck off."
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nofacentity · 9 months
Text
𝕄𝕀𝔾𝕌𝔼𝕃 𝕆'ℍ𝔸ℝ𝔸 𝕏 𝔾ℕ! ℝ𝔼𝔸𝔻𝔼ℝ ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻ℂ𝔸ℕ𝕆ℕ𝕊
Okay, in my mind, I see it this way:
This man lost all of what he cherished and, after which, he made it his work to ensure what happened to him would never happen again. The thing is - it's very personal. 
He works so hard not because he's born a workoholic (Idk about comic Miguel, but rn Im talking about atsv Miguel and what we've seen of him) but because hes hurting and feeling guilty, and there's just so much mental baggage to unpack.
 🧛🏽Of course he'll be shitting his spider-pants from the sheer thought of having someone close to him again or having any attachments. But if this man ends up with a S/O somehow, it would mean there's already a lot of work done with him opening up and getting attached and, in this case, his priorities will change too.
🧛🏽I don't see him ignoring his SO or abandoning them for work or being mean to them for no reason, he'll get a totally new set of priorities. And his SO is surely his number one priority.
🧛🏽He will try to prioritize work, but if you call him he'll just drop everything he's been doing. (he sure will complain that he needs to do his very important job and all)
🧛🏽He wouldn't ever want to take his anger out on you, but this man does have anger issues. He'll try to manage it to best of his ability if he's around you - he'll just be grumpy and try to be civil with you while holding back his desire to punch a hole through a wall. 
If he's furious he won't talk much, will just be frowning silently, he may sound a bit rude atm, he still wouldn't want to harm or upset you. If he ever shouts at you he'll be quick to apologize.
🧛🏽He doesn't strike me as a jealous type, he's concerned for your safety, not for your loyalty. He wont even think about it. Unless you'll give him a rock solid reason to.(but why?)
🧛🏽He'll have separation anxiety soo bad he'll cuff you to himself. This man can't breathe freely if you're out of his line of sight.
🧛🏽He is a family-oriented man. He craaveesss family, this man needs comfort so badly.
🧛🏽He tries to treat his SO as an independent and capable individual, no matter if they are a spider person or not, he respects them. He tries and he fails not to be controlling and protective. 
❤️Love languages :
Quality time
"I want a hundred of your time, you're mine."
As I said, he will be glued to your side. He'll have you in his office while he works, just having you around is comforting, even when you two aren't talking. Just hearing your heartbeat and breathing makes his heart feel lighter. To have you in sight and to know you're safe is what it takes for him to stay calm and focused.
Touching.
Two words: touch starved(or is it one word?)
He just likes to feel any part of your body against any part of his body. He'll love it if you fall asleep on his lap while he works (I have no idea if Miguel has a chair in his lair but let's imagine he has one). If you spoil him with light touches, caressing his skin gently, patting his head, running your hand through his hair, he will crumble.
He will always be silently begging for your touch, like a cat that wants headpats, tries to hide it to save its dignity, but fails miserably by being too obvious. He is a cat.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months
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I'm suddenly imagining Steve’s parents as James Marsters and Charisma Carpenter.
"Have you ever played the Floor is Lava game?" Eddie asked Steve.
They were lounging at Steve's house, watching TV when Eddie suggested the game. They had flipped through the channels, but they found nothing they wanted to watch at the moment.
"No," Steve scoffed. "What's that?"
"Oh, right. You're an only child with boring parents. My mom used to play it with me when I was little. The concept of the game is that you have to avoid touching the floor because it's made of Lava," Eddie grinned. "You wanna play?"
"Sure."
An hour later, pillows were rearranged on the floor as well as the furniture. They had been hopping around on them for a while now, Eddie telling an outlandish tale of Lava Pirates. Steve had made it safely to the couch, but Eddie was still on the coffee table. The pillows in between them had been knocked aside, and now Eddie had to make it from the coffee table to the couch. There was a huge gap.
"I don't think I'm going to make it. Tell everyone that I love them," Eddie said dramatically. "Go on without me!"
"Oh, for fu - just jump, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed.
Eddie jumped, his feet barely making it to the edge of the couch, and he almost stumbled into the Lava if it hadn't been for Steve grabbing the front of his shirt. Steve pulled him onto the couch and into his arms, wrapping one arm around his waist to stable him.
"My hero!" Eddie said, batting his eyelashes.
Eddie pressed his hands to Steve’s chest, breathing heavily as he stared into his eyes. They were both breathing heavily. Steve pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together. He took the opportunity to kiss Eddie, pressing his lips gently against his. He smiled when he felt Eddie kiss him back. It was brief, though, because Eddie was suddenly pulling back.
"I'm sorry," Eddie said quickly. "I'm not like that. I mean, it's okay if you are, but I'm not - I'm not like that."
"Okay," Steve said, his voice filled with emotion, and he tried not to look at Eddie, his face red from embarrassment.
Eddie stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do as he watched his friend's eyes fill up with tears. He jumped down from the couch and started putting on his shoes.
"I'm going to go now," Eddie said, but Steve didn't say anything. "Uh, see you later."
Eddie started walking towards the door, and as he left, the last thing he heard was the sound of a sob coming from Steve. He hated that sound. Eddie's chest fluttered with this heavy weight, and he found it hard to breathe. He wasn't like that, was he? Shit, he needed to call Ronnie.
A couple of days later. . .
Steve thought he had been hiding his emotions all day at work, but apparently, he was wrong.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Robin asked as soon as they sat down for their break.
"What are you talking about?" Steve asked with a sigh.
"I mean. You've been in a mood all day. You were even rude to the customers," Robin said. "So, rude that they gave you looks, they made complaints to me. You even snapped at me earlier."
"I did?" Steve asked in surprise.
"What's going on?" Robin asked softly.
"I, uh, kissed Eddie," Steve revealed, fiddling with his lunch.
"Okay, so it didn't go well. What happened?" She asked.
He told her all about the game they played and how Steve had saved him. He trailed off near the end.
"We were wrong about him, Robin," he said.
"What?"
"He's not like us," Steve said, shrugging. "He told me. I just need some time to move on, get over him, and then we can go back to being friends. I just want him to be a part of my life, and I'll take whatever he can give me."
"No! No! He is like us! There's no way my radar is off about this," Robin frowned.
"It's okay, Robin. I'll be okay," Steve said.
"Are you sure he didn't kiss you back?" Robin asked.
"I didn't say that he didn't," he said.
"So, he did kiss you?" She asked.
"Yeah, but I'm sure it was like a reflex," Steve said.
"Okay. What did he say exactly after that?" Robin asked.
"He said that he wasn't like that, but it was okay if I was, but he just wasn't like that," Steve replied.
"Wait, so he said it twice?" Robin asked.
"Yeah, why?"
Robin frowned thoughtfully as she tapped her chin. She placed her hands on the table in front of him.
"Okay, I don't want to give you false hope, but maybe it was us who's the problem. We kind of assumed that Eddie's the kind of guy who always knew about himself like we did," Robin said. "But maybe that's not the case."
"Are you saying that I awakened something in him?" Steve said.
"It's a possibility," Robin said softly. "Maybe he just needs time."
Steve smiled, feeling a little more hopeful than he had in days. Yeah, he could give Eddie all of the time in the world.
A few days later. . .
Steve was sitting on the couch, pouting as he stared at the blank TV screen. Every so often, he would glance at the direction of the kitchen, where the phone was, and hoped it would ring. Maggie Harrington plopped onto the coffee table in front of her son and placed his feet in her lap.
"Whatcha doing, Bebie?" Maggie asked.
"Wishing that the phone would ring," Steve said.
"Well, you know what they say about a watched pot," Maggie chuckled, but Steve didn't laugh. "Honey, you have to give him more time than this. Not everyone is like us."
"I know," Steve frowned. "I just don't want to lose him."
"No matter what happens, he'd be an idiot not to be a part of your life," Maggie said.
Thunder clapped loudly outside, and suddenly, there came the sound of hard rain beating against the roof. Steve jumped, and Maggie squeezed his feet to calm him down. A few moments later, the front door opened and closed.
"Mags, do you know anything about this wet metalhead loitering about outside? I don't think he belongs to anyone. I don't see any tags. Do you think Steve might like him?" John asked.
He and Eddie appeared in the door, a wide grin on his face. Meanwhile, Eddie's eyes were wide as he looked at Steve, his hair dripping wet.
"Dad!" Steve exclaimed, blushing.
Eddie pulled crushed, wet flowers out of his vest and held them out for Steve.
"These are for you," Eddie said, and Steve took them with a smile.
"Aw, he got him flowers," Maggie said, cooing.
"Mom, Dad, can you give us a minute?" Steve asked.
"You're right, Steve, he is cute," Maggie said, flipping up her thumbs at him.
"Mom!" Steve yelled.
"Come on, Mags," John said, pulling her out of the room.
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't even think about if your parents even know about you," Eddie blushed.
"Oh, we know, and we were so proud of Bebie when he came out to us!" Maggie yelled from the hallway. "Besides, we're both lavender married. I'm a lesbian and John's gay!"
"Mom!"
"Sorry, son, she got away from me!" John called. "Slippery little witch."
"Bebie?" Eddie asked in amusement.
"When I was little, I had this lisp, and I would pronounce my name like Stebe," Steve rolled his eyes. "Then mom kind of ran with the name."
"And it was the cutest little lisp," Maggie said, popping her head in. "You should have seen him when he was little. He was such a mama's boy. You know, I have a picture of him, trying to walk around in my heels. It's so - "
"Mom! Please!" Steve yelled, torn between laughing and crying.
"Mrs. Harrington - " Eddie started to say.
"Maggie," she corrected with a grin.
"Maggie, you know, if you wanted to talk about how cute Steve is, then we can have lunch, and you can tell me all the embarrassing stories about him then?" Eddie asked with a grin. "Okay?"
"Okay!" Maggie exclaimed and left the room.
"Sorry about them," Steve said, shaking his head.
"So, if they're, uh, lavender married, how did - " Eddie started to say.
"I'm adopted," Steve said.
"Ah," Eddie said, and suddenly, he pulled a rock out of his pocket. "I also found this because it reminded me of your eyes."
"Thanks," Steve said, grinning, clutching it to his chest.
"Look, when I said I wasn't like that, I thought that I wasn't like that, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I really am like that. It wasn't just because so many people assume that about me. I always scoffed at them because I'm a freak, so that must mean I must be like that too, right? You came into my life and woke me up. I've always been like that, I just didn't want to recognize it because I'm already different enough, even though I know that there's nothing wrong with being different," Eddie said. "I want to be with you, but I'm still sort of figuring things out."
"We can take things as slow as you want," Steve said.
"A little kiss wouldn't be too fast, though," Eddie grinned as he took Steve’s hands in his.
Steve leaned forward and kissed him gently, pulling him close. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Eddie's.
"I think we can tell your parents to come back in now," Eddie laugh.
"Mom, Dad!" Steve called out.
Maggie came in with a pile of clothes and a towel.
"I brought you some clothes and something to dry off with," Maggie said.
"Thanks, I had completely forgotten that I was dripping on your carpet," Eddie said cheerfully.
When he came back, dressed in Steve's sweats, he plopped down next to Steve on the couch and snuggled into his arms.
"So, Steve always complained about how you guys are away a lot and how much he misses you," Eddie said. "Like an idiot, I assumed the worst. I think that's because of my own shitty dad, so I apologize because you guys are awesome."
"Well, the last few years have kind of been difficult," John replied. "We've been trying to retire my dad's insurance company for a while now so we can spend more time with Steve, but my partner of 15 years who has occasionally been my partner on and off as well, revealed to me that he's been embezzling from the company over the last few years so we have been trying to clean that mess up. We were supposed to hand over the company over to him, and now that's all fucked up. So, we have also been looking for a suitable and trustworthy replacement to take over the company that my dad built from the ground up, a company my dad built to be inclusive for everyone."
"Shit, that fucking sucks," Eddie said with wide eyes.
"It does fucking suck," John sighed. "But Steve and Mags here have been my rock. Couldn't get through this without them."
There was silence for a while and then Eddie leaned forward with a smirk.
"So, Maggie, where is this picture of Steve in your heels that you spoke of?" Eddie asked, and John laughed while Maggie shrieked.
"I'm going to get the photo album," she said and jumped up.
"You're in for it now, son," John said.
"Mom! Please!"
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Text
Sunshine and Flowers
Logan Howlett x plus size reader
Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart.
Warnings: grumpy and sunshine, jealousy, Logan is a dick but we been knew, reader is kind of oblivious and touch starved, age-gap (reader is mid 20s and Logan is old as shit), Logan POV, bit of a slow burn, reader and Logan are Keely and Roy coded
WC: 3.8k
Minors DNI
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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“Yo Logan!” The seemingly ever present pounding in the older mutant’s temples suddenly got worse, the band around his forehead tightening as the young woman cheerfully skipped up to him without a care in the world. Her arm looped through his own, tucking herself into his side, like she always did. 
“What d’ya want?” He grumbled. It was easier to just ask her outright than stay silent and her chatter away at him for an hour before she finally got to her point. Y/N beamed up at him, her e/c eyes sparkling. “Wellllll… I was wondering if you wanted to come with me on a little field trip with the kids! I was thinking of bringing them to the MET, you know because art.” She waved her right hand around as if to emphasise her point. 
“No.” Logan said firmly. 
“Aw please! Please Logan! Please! Please! Please!” He could practically feel his blood pressure rising as Y/N pleaded with him, pulling on his arm, acting like a complete child. Dear god, what had he done to deserve this?
With the huge throngs of students constantly being enrolled in the school, Charles had come up with the bright idea to introduce an art program to the children as a way of “expressing their creativity”. But what that actually meant was hiring a new teacher specifically for this class since no adult in the school had even an ounce of artistic talent.
And so six months ago, Y/N Y/L/N, a recent college graduate, strolled into the mansion and never left. Her gift to generate small stars gave her the remarkable ability to light her classroom in any way she wished, allowing her students the perfect lighting to create absolute masterpieces. And like her gift, she herself was a big ball of endless energy that constantly bounced around, latching onto whoever she came across, and more often than not, that person was Logan.
For some inexplicable reason, she gravitated to him, always seeking his approval, trying to get him to engage in activities with their students, among many many other things that made the older man truly resent when the final bell of the school day rang and she would float into his classroom, ranting about something or another. The only way he could get her to stop was by distracting her, usually by shoving her in the general direction of her best friend, Alex Summers.
But Havok was on a road trip with Sean and Peter for the next month, so he had been abandoned. Logan sighed as her grating voice made his sensitive ears ring, and the overpowering smell of her flowery perfume was a downright assault on his senses. “Logan, come on! It’ll be soooooo much fun! I’ll even buy you lunch after!” 
While the temptation of free food was great, Logan knew it wouldn’t be worth spending the entire day with Y/N glued to his side, forcing him to do whatever she wanted. Taking a deep breath, prepared to let her down as gently as he could, given that his patience was hanging on by a thread, he would probably be more rude than he wanted to be, when he paused, really taking in the young woman.
“Is that my shirt?” He drawled, his dark eyes flicking over her plump body. She was wearing one of her typical outfits, white converse splashed with paint, shorts that very well could be called Daisy dukes, they were that short, with little flowers embroidered on them. Her chubby thighs almost entirely on view with one of his favourite red plaids on top of a black tank top instead of her usual blouse, making her sizeable cleavage pop. Y/N looked away bashfully. 
“Yeah, I um found it in the movie room and it looked so warm so I took it and it’s super comfy like seriously how do you get your shirts so soft it’s really weird but they always smell like cigars so I guess that’s the downside. That’s not to say you smell bad! I’m just saying that it’s like your trademark-“
There she went again. “It’s fine kid, just wash it before you give it back.” 
“What about the MET!” She called after him.
“Maybe.” He grumbled and with that he walked away, be-lining for the kitchen where he stashed his Vodka, losing her in the sea of students just getting out of class.
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“Now, for today’s class, we’re going to go over some art history!” A collective groan resonated through the room but Y/N’s bright smile never faltered, it actually got bigger as she looked over her small group of students sitting around the art-filled room. “I know, I know but this stuff is important! Art plays such a big role in human evolution. Actually, the argument can be made that our ability to create art is what truly sets us apart from other animal species-“
There was no denying that Miss Y/L/N’s class was a favourite among the young mutants. Her rants not only served to brighten up their day but they also prevented her from giving out any actual work. It especially helped when most of them came from Logan’s class the period before. He was quite well known to be, well there’s no delicate way to put this, a hard ass. 
So when, during this spring afternoon, with just a month left before summer break, Logan strode into the art class, his heavy boots thundering loudly against the hardwood floors, everyone was shocked. Y/N was pacing the room now, well and truly absorbed in her own thoughts, which became an impassioned speech as soon as the words formed in her mind. Logan cleared his throat as he leaned against the door jam, his jaw cleaned tightly when she didn’t answer or look at him.
The collection of children were now starting to get nervous as the seconds ticked by, Logan’s eyes getting steadily darker with anger, the muscle in his lower jaw working over under his mutton chops. They could all see his famous tempter growing and none of them wanted to be on the receiving end. “Um Miss?” A young girl spoke up, trying to break her train of thought. But nope, that couldn’t stop her.
Logan was getting fed up now. How in the hell did these kids even learn anything with the way she was carrying on? “Kid.” He growled, immediately making the entire class freeze, including the young teacher. 
“Oh Logan! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She laughed nervously, pulling on the edge of her sheer pink sleeve. He noted she was wearing a dress today, it was frilly and absolutely drowning in flower print, with translucent sleeves that went all the way down to her wrists.
“Right, Wheels needs us in his office. Now.” He pressed as she opened her mouth to point out she was in the middle of a lecture. Y/N nodded then addressed the class. “All right, students. I guess you’re getting out early today. No homework!” She was quick to jog out of the room before the kids were able to leave their seats, effectively avoiding the clambering mass of them trying to practically sprint out. 
Her smaller hand easily slipped into Logan’s bigger one, intertwining their fingers as her left hand came up to rest on his exposed forearm. He felt the cool of her metal rings against his skin. Unconsciously, he noted that he had never seen her wear any kind of jewellery before. “Did Charles say what he wanted?” Her eyes caught his brown ones, falling into step with the older mutant through the quiet halls. Logan just shrugged, fishing a half used cigar from his breast pocket and sticking the thoroughly chewed end in his mouth, a sharp canine slicing into it.
“Hmm.” She hummed, her gaze shifting down to her feet, trusting Logan to guide them to the headmaster’s office. “Do you think it’s a mission?” 
“He doesn’t send you on missions.” Logan said firmly. 
“Yeah I know but it could be! Stranger things have happened.” 
“Like what?” He humoured her.  
“How about Peter actually scoring a date~” She teased, making the Wolverine’s lip turn up briefly in a smile then dropped again into a frown before she could see. 
“You do have a point.” He conceded. They rounded the last corner and came to a stop outside the solid door of Charles’ office. Logan went to knock, a muffled ‘please come in’ sounded before his permanently bruised knuckles could meet the stained wood.
Charles sat behind his grand desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he looked over a mountain of paperwork that gave Y/N a headache just from looking at it. She pulled her hand from Logan’s and bounced over to one of the two chairs in front of the headmaster, immediately making herself comfortable. 
Clasping her hands on her lap with her back up straight, Y/N focused on the older mutant as he took off his reading glasses and laid them on what looked to be his grade book. Logan himself leaned against the doorjamb, much like he did in the young woman’s classroom, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. 
Charles sighed deeply as he looked at his teachers. “There really is no way to say this delicately so I suppose I’ll just say it: Erik’s come home.” Logan’s entire body seized with an emotion akin to fear.
“Fuck.” He snarled. But Y/N had an entirely different reaction. Her face visibly lit up but not with excitement but instead with the joy of someone who didn’t have to lie anymore. Charles raised an eyebrow at the young woman, prompting her to explain herself.
“He slept in my room last night, there was no other free space.” She said casually as if she hadn’t just dropped the bomb that she spent the night with a dangerous mutant who hadn’t hesitated to kill before. “Don’t worry! I was being safe. He slept on my couch.”
“Like that makes this whole thing any better.” Logan muttered under his breath but only Charles heard him. The telepath gave him a strange but knowing look before turning back to the young art teacher.
Her smile wavered only for a moment before returning with full force. “He was super nice to me! He even picked out my jewellery today.” She flashed her hands towards the headmaster, showing off the various silver rings that adorned her fingers. Logan huffed at her naivety but Charles had an entirely different reaction. He took her hands into his own, delicately tracing the metal with a soft touch.
“Erik did a good job, they look wonderful. But Y/N, I still want you to be wary. Erik can be very volatile and unpredictable and his abilities far outmatch your own. Just be careful.” She gave a firm nod. “Although, I believe you could do him some kind of good to be around someone who finds him tolerable.” Charles gave a not so subtle glance toward the Wolverine who scoffed and rolled his eyes.
An awkward and tense silence fell over the trio. Y/N cleared her throat, tugging on the hem of her dress which lay only an inch above her knees. “Is that all you wanted to tell us?”
“Well, I do need to speak to you about this art trip you have planned. Logan, you’re welcome to stay, you might find this information useful.” 
“Fuck no, I have better things to do with my time.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. She visibly flinched at his words and her smile became so fake it made him ache. Charles’s own expression fell as he sat back in his high-back chair.
“Then if you’ll please excuse us, we have some things to discuss.” He said sternly, quite obviously not pleased with Logan’s rudeness. “Close the door on your way out.” 
As the door swung shut behind him, Logan caught the smallest whimper escaping her lips and the muffled words of his old friend consoling her.
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The manor was almost dead silent as Logan emerged from the cave that was his room. There were no sounds of footsteps (save for his own), or screaming or chatter, there wasn’t even the ever present clatter of utensils from the kitchen. 
Curiously, he wandered through the empty halls, occasionally glancing into the empty rooms he passed. Just as his dark brows began to furrow with concern, Ororo turned the corner, nose buried in a book. “Hey Storm.” Her dark eyes met his own.
“Logan?” She replied with a curious head tilt before returning to her book. Logan huffed through his nose.
“Where is everyone?” She gave him a strange look and glanced over her shoulder as if the answer to his question was just behind her. The young mutant snapped her book shut.
“At the MET? You know the big field trip that Y/N organised. I thought you were going with them. She has been talking about it for weeks.”  Logan’s frown deepened. That was today? Storm seemed to pause as she took in his stormy expression. “Oh, I guess you forgot. No wonder she was so upset when they left. I guess it’s a good thing Erik went with her then.”
Just then, noise exploded through the halls once more as dozens of feet stomped on the expensive hardwood. Ororo sighed heavily through her nose, upset at not being able to have a little more quiet to finish off her chapter. But Logan remained frozen in place, his veins filled with icy terror. “Repeat that last part?”
She glanced at him with a devastating side eye. “Evidently, Erik saw how upset she was this morning when you didn’t get on the bus so he decided to go with her to take care of the kids.”  She shrugged and tucked the leather-bound volume under her arm. “She looked like she was going to cry before he stepped up.”
Poison curled in his gut but he quickly stamped it down. Just then, kids and teens stampeded around the corner, hyped up on what Logan guessed to be sugar and excitement. And right smack dab in the middle was Magneto, his head thrown back in laughter, the corded muscles in his neck and shoulders rippling with the movement. His right arm was bent allowing for the soft hand of the younger woman to rest on his forearm. Y/N was smiling shyly at him, not used to the undivided attention he was giving her.
As they passed him, Logan caught her eye. She barely even gave him a glance but he saw the sadness deep within those e/cs and he knew it was because of him. She quickly looked away, drawing her gaze back to the dangerous mutant who was speaking once more, his laughter fading. But Logan couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roaring in his ears. 
He watched them until they disappeared into one of the many living rooms of the manor. “At least he got her smiling again.” He barely registered Ororo’s words before she too left him.
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This went on for weeks. It seemed that everywhere he turned, Logan would see the unlikely pair together. Whether that be baking in the middle of the night, reading quietly in the library, working on lesson plans, he even saw them training together! 
He watched them from afar as they grew closer and her pull away from himself until one day he was walking out of his classroom after a long day. “Wait up!” Unconsciously, Logan slowed his pace , a smile crawling upon his face. He expected the familiar weight of her touch against his arm, the smell of her floral perfume and the bright sound of her laughter but when a blur raced by him, his heart dropped.
Y/N flung herself at Erik who was just a few paces in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug too tight to be just friendly. He caught her easily, his arms winding around her thick waist and tugged her closer. 
Logan forced himself to turn away, missing the sad look she cast him, heartbreak clear in her eyes.
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The end-of-school party was alive with laughter and music. Lights floated over the small dance floor that had been assembled in the gardens. Professors mingled on the wooden stage, swaying to the smooth acoustic guitar Kurt was strumming. But Logan’s attention was trapped on the centre of the crowd where a small circle of space had been formed and trying as hard as he might, he couldn’t look away. 
Y/N twirled in time with the music, her eyes shut as she let it wash over her. Her skin glowed in the golden sunset, the sweat along her brow sparkled like glitter as she moved. Pale green tulle embroidered with dozens of sunflowers floated around her, her dress fluttering in the light breeze. She was absolutely breath-taking. No weight rested on her shoulders nor anxiety in her face. She was serene, she was like a goddess in human form, dancing and delighting with mere mortals. 
How badly he wanted to stride across the gardens and take her into his arms, to feel her curves beneath his palms as they moved together. Logan shook himself from those thoughts and took another sip of whiskey. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat but that was nothing compared to the burning rage in his stomach as another man approached her.
Erik, dressed in a matching dark green suit, caught her mid-twirl, his left hand holding her hips in place as he captured her left hand in his right. She fell easily into step with him, her once fluid movements becoming a slow waltz. 
Logan was so consumed in his anger that he hadn’t noticed another person walking to his side until they were right next to him.
“Why are you so worked up about this? You’ve made it very clear that you can barely even tolerate her.” Logan’s scowl deepened, his eyes growing even darker with rage as Hank spoke to him. “I mean even I’ve heard about the things you’ve said to her and I barely leave the lab.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Beast.” He didn’t bother to hide the way he was glaring at the pair. Almost as if in slow motion, Erik pressed his lips to her ear, speaking in a whisper so quiet, even Logan’s powerful hearing couldn’t pick it up. She pulled away from him for just a moment and hope bloomed in his chest. But it quickly died as she nodded in response.
Erik took her hand, their fingers intertwining as he led her away. Logan slammed his now empty glass down on the temporary bar behind him and stormed off towards the couple. The music faded away as he ran. 
Her laugh carried on the breeze, the skirt of her dress fluttering behind her. Logan ran faster, now regretting the tight suit pants and button-up he donned for the evening as they got steadily further and further away.
Without thinking, he made a sharp left, launching himself over the perfectly pruned flower beds Charles loved so much and tore through the gardens. Then suddenly, she was within sight. One heeled foot was over the threshold but he still had a chance.
With a final burst of speed he grabbed Y/N’s wrist before she could enter the manor, forcing her to let go of the other man. “Don’t go with him. Please.” 
“Logan, what are you doing?”
“I can’t let you go with him. Y/N, I-“ He swallowed harshly, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly. Y/N looked over her shoulder to the other mutant only to find him gone. “Fuck why can’t I just say it.”
Her body was fully turned to him now. “Say what?”
Taking in a deep breath, he looked into her eyes. “I love you.” The slap came out of nowhere, knocking the breath from his lungs. Y/N’s jaw was dropped in shock as if she didn’t see it coming either even though it was her hand that now burned with the sting of meeting his unshaven cheek.
“Let me go, who-who put you up to this?” She attempted to pull away from his hold but he wouldn’t let her go. 
“Y/N-“ He started but was quickly interrupted when she spoke again, tears spilling down her full cheeks and voice wavering.
“No. You can’t feel that towards me, you barely even like me. You’ve made that very clear over the past couple weeks, no the past year! You brush me off! You make me feel like an idiot! You ignored my blatantly obvious feelings for months and now you say something?!” 
“You feel the same?” He asked in disbelief. 
“Of course I do! That’s why I asked you to go to the MET with me. I was gonna bring you to the American wing where all the native art was because I know you love it so much and then I was going to tell you. But then you were just so awful to me when Erik got here and you forgot about the trip!” Once again, she tried to break his grip but Logan instead tugged her back and right into his broad chest.
With a massive paw, he cupped her soft jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Can you just let me explain?” Her bottom lip popped out in a pout but she didn’t object. “I have lost so much, too much. Every woman I have ever loved has died because I loved them. And you, you are so young and so beautiful and way too kind for your own good. I love you more than anyone else and I guess that scared me. I pushed you away. But I can’t do it anymore, I can’t watch you fall for someone else.” 
“Goddamnit.” She growled before her arms shot out and wrapped around the back of his neck so she could yank his face down to her level, and then she kissed him.
Stars burst around them like little fireworks as he pulled her closer by the small of her back. Her hands travelled from his neck downwards so her fingers could curl into his shirt like she was terrified that this was all just some dream. 
“You do anything even remotely close to that whole fiasco again and I will let Erik do whatever he wants to you.” She murmured against his lips.
“Just kiss me again, sunshine.” And she did.
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