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#but i just really miss my old house and the fact that i could see my family more often
marvelouslizzie · 7 months
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Same Lonely Night
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summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 2.6K
warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n
A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 
He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 
He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.
That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.
“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 
That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 
That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 
So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.
Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.
“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.
He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.
His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.
It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.
Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.
Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.
Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.
What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 
He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 
Jesus… It makes him so hard!
Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.
That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 
He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 
Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 
He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.
There’s a first time for everything.
He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.
He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.
“Oh god…”
He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.
“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”
He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.
“Anything you want, doll.”
His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.
“Oh fuck, fuck.” 
He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 
Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Shit! She heard me.
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javiscigarette · 5 months
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Silent Night
Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.
Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything
w/c: 6.6k
a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!
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Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse.  "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”
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You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement. 
You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise. 
Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him. 
He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.
"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.
You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."
It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.
The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.
Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.
"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"
"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.
"Jus' three."
"Oh, so you are  just a lightweight then?"
"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout. 
You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls.  scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."
Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.
You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.
"M'not drunk"
You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"
"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."
"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.
Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper. 
When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.
His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.
He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat. 
He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs. 
He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache. 
You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality. 
"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”
He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air. 
"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"
His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh. 
“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile. 
Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.” 
You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.
But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.
Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can,” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse point. 
"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?” 
“I don’t- oh…” 
The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins. 
“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?” 
There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it. 
His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil. 
Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.
"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."
Fuck.
His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.
"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"
"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.
He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface. 
You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet. 
“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea. 
“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention. 
“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya” 
You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk. 
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass. 
Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest. 
“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.” 
Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex. 
He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.
He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.
He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.
You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.
He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.
"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-
He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.
He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.
"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey. 
He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.
When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.
"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.
You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.
He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.
He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.
He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.
"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."
He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.
He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.
"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."
You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"
He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.
"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."
Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.
He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.
You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake. 
His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.
"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."
The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.
He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.
"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.
You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.
"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.
Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.
"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.
You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.
You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.
He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.
"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"
You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.
He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.
"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."
He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."
You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.
"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"
He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.
Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.
He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.
"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."
You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.
"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.
You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.
"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."
You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.
"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"
You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.
"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"
Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.
"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."
His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.
Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls. 
"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.” 
You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense. 
“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.” 
That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.
"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.” 
The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.
"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."
"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.
"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"
He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch. 
"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."
He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.
"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.
You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins. 
“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?” 
You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree. 
You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze. 
“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!” 
You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so. 
“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back. 
“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows. 
“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle. 
“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”
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Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe
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cy-cyborg · 1 month
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How The Owl House did amputee representation right before Eda ever lost her arm - Disability in Media
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[ID: A screenshot of Eda from The Owl House, an old woman with pale skin, very large, grey hair and pointed ears in a red dress. Beside the screenshot on a dark pink background is text that reads "Disability in media, How the Owl House got amputee representation right before eda ever lost her arm." /End ID]
Dana Terrace's The Owl House has some of the best disability rep I’ve seen on a Disney channel show in a long time, with Eda, the main character’s mentor, being one of many stand-out examples.
Plenty of people have discussed how Eda’s curse and the loss of her magic can work as an allegory for disability and how refreshing it is to see a story (especially one aimed at a younger audience) who’s focus is not on her “overcoming” it, but learning to accept it as a part of her and go from there. Eda’s story tackles a lot of subjects that are often mishandled in other examples of disability representation, from the subject of parents who refuse to accept, to glass siblings and much, much more, The Owl House handles all these topics beautifully.
But one thing that dawned on me during my most recent re-watch of The Owl House is how well Eda (and later Lilith) worked as amputee representation, long before Eda actually lost her arm.
One of the side effects of Eda and Lilith’s curse is that sometimes their body parts, mainly their limbs, can fall off. It doesn’t hurt them, and Eda is seen removing them intentionally at multiple times in the series, but they can always be reattached.
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[ID: an image of Eda holding her sister Lilith's hand. Lilith is a pale woman with long, black hair, wearing grey clothes. She is looking at her other arm suprised, as her hand is missing. Luz, a Latina girl with short brown hair and a purple hoodie is looking on, smiling. /End ID]
While most likely unintentional, the way the show depicts this with Eda in particular is exactly what I wish more people would do with their prosthetic-using amputee characters.
Eda detaches her limbs, especially her legs, when they’re inconvenient or when she’s relaxing.
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[ID: an image of Eda laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]
The fact that this is mostly played for laughs is actually a good thing in my opinion (though obviously, the show’s overall tone is part of that), as it shows the audience who are mostly children and teens, that in a world of weird and downright scary (from the perspective of the characters) things, this isn't one of them. It’s just a thing she and Lilith can do, and it can even be funny.
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[ID: An image of Luz and Eda dressed as pirates. Eda is sitting on the ground, her legs detached and off screen somewhere. /End ID]
It does startle Luz and Lilith on a few occasions, but that’s more because they didn’t know the curse could do that, but once they’re introduced to it, it’s never really brought up as a big deal again.
I’d love to see more amputee characters who do this with their prosthetics. So often media is almost afraid to have amputees take their prosthetics off on camera or on the page. For some folks, our prosthetics are like a part of our bodies, but that doesn’t mean we never take them off. Show your leg amputee flop on the couch and throw their legs across the room. Have them go without on occasion, not because they have to, but because they just don’t feel like putting them on.
Likewise, the owl house creators never shy away from showing Eda when her limbs aren’t all attached. A lot of media, and kid’s shows in particular, will avoid having an amputee character’s stump visible if they ever do take their prosthetics off - treating that part of the character’s body the same way they treat gore or nudity. I’ve talked before how this actually does have a real impact on how kids in particular react to amputees - I’ve legitimately had kids I worked with cry when I took my prosthetics off, then immediately calm down when they see there’s nothing "scary" under my socks. As much as I love How To Train Your Dragon, it’s very guilty of this. Hiccup looses his leg at the end of the first movie, and wakes up with his prosthetic already attached. The Netflix series has a few instances where he has his prosthetic off, but the camera almost always avoids showing it until he can cover it up again, or is super zoomed-out so you wouldn’t be able to “see anything”. To their credit, they do get better with this in the last movie (though it's still always covered), but for the majority of the series, they are very reluctant to have any shots where hiccup’s leg is in view without the prosthetic (unless they’re very far away).
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[ID: a screenshot of Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon 3, a white man with short brown hair, and one leg missing, wearing armour made of black dragon scales and no prosthetic. He is holding onto toothless's head, a black dragon. /End ID]
Ironically, Eda does (permanently) loose an arm at the end of season 2, but I don’t really have much to say about her as amputee representation on that front, since she’s absent for a lot of Season 3, and when we do see her again, everything is so hectic, the story doesn’t really have any time to focus on her missing limb (which is reasonable). I will say, I do appreciate that they kept the amputation when she's in her owl-beast form in the finale, but there's honestly not much more to say about it. We do see her again in the epilogue after she’s had some time to settle into the amputation, wearing a hook prosthetic, but it’s, once again, too quick to really say anything from a representation standpoint. There's a few little nit-picky things I could bring up, like the fact they seemed to change the type on amputation she had (when she looses it, we see the split was very close to the elbow, but in the epilogue she has most of her forearm again) but those read to me more like animation mistakes or an odd prosthetic/clothing designs rather than a representation issue - and as someone who's worked in animation, given the stress the team was under for the finale, I'm not really worried about it. Like I said, it's more nit-picky than anything.
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[ID: A screenshot of Eda, her hair tied back and wearing a red robe and a hook for her right hand. /End ID]
Despite all that though, I still think Eda is still good amputee representation, but mostly because of how they depict her curse’s side effects rather than her actual amputation. She’s honestly one of the only characters that I think you could refer to as “amputee coded” (outside of maybe Teen Titan’s Cyborg), and I genuinely wish more creators would treat their actual amputee characters the same way the Owl House treats Eda in that regard.
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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year
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Not his type
Javier Peña x f!reader
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summary: you are helping at Chucho’s ranch and Javier thinks you are still definitely not his type
warnings: as usually SMUT ( vaginal fingering, oral -m!receiving, male masturbation, protected p in v, biting, hair pulling), cursing, soft!Javi - cuz that’s my favorite genre of Javi -, just a smudge of angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of food, fluff  
word count: 10.5 k (I like them big I guess *wink wink*)
A/N: I planned to start my Marcus Pike fic but then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. This is basically just a long friends to lovers fic.
Javier Peña is not a simple man – far from it. He is bitter and hot-headed, and he feels small no matter what he does – he should have done better, he should have been smarter, quicker. He shouldn't have been such an idiot. Maybe then he wouldn’t be now standing in front of his childhood home. Maybe then...  
But no matter what Javier thinks of himself he is a good man. He is caring and always wants to do the right thing – even if the consequences of his actions make him look like a bad guy. He doesn’t care – or he does but doesn’t let it show. Doesn’t want people to know that perhaps he is not as strong as he seems. Doesn’t want them to know that he cares – sometimes too deeply. Doesn’t want them to know he might feel – it's better if he seems unapproachable and looks like if you'd touch him, he'd burn you too greatly - so much that you would want to do nothing with him ever again.
So Javier feels the weight of all of his sins drop into his stomach when he keeps standing on the porch of Chucho’s house with a suitcase that he had packed with himself from Bogotá. He wanted to leave all of his old life behind but some memories stay with things that are bound to them.
He feels like a little boy again when he came home crying because lads – older and bigger than him – were picking on him. He feels like the little boy who hid behind the skirts of his dear mama when guests came to visit. That’s why he wants to look so tough, that’s why he is so hard around the edges – he changed, Bogotá changed him so he wouldn’t have to feel that small ever again. But even that didn’t help. Deep inside he is still that little boy. He can hide behind his bravado - his stern scowl and cold gaze- but that fact will never change.
He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there until the door swings open – almost hitting him in the face – and he sees Chucho standing in the doorway. His signature cowboy hat on his head and that old red flannel shirt he bought him on Christmas ages ago seems a little tighter around his middle than he'd last seen him in it. He is older – slower, the age showing on his face. But when he smiles as he sees Javier in front of him he looks 30 years younger.  
Javier looks a lot like his pops – he has the same nose that he hated when he was younger – and pops had the same colored dark hair once that curls if it gets too long. They have the same dimple on the left side of their face if they smile too hard and like his pops, Javier could never really grow a proper beard.  
Pops hugs him as if he hadn't seen him in ages – and to be honest, that is true. Work and life always got in the way and he regrets all the time he missed with him. He also didn’t want to come home – his mother’s things were still everywhere in the house. Her pictures, the warms blankets - that Javier loved to wrap around himself on the colder nights in Laredo - scattered on the armchairs and couch. He didn’t want to see Pops sad and so he stayed behind in Bogotá drowning in work, booze and women. The Peña men had different ways of grieving. Chucho never said anything to Javi though – he didn’t blame him for not coming, didn’t yell at him for letting him be alone on holidays – and he should have. He should do all those things because maybe then Javier wouldn’t feel like such a bad son.  
When they part Chucho smiles – he didn’t smile a whole lot after Javi's mom died. “It's good to see you, Javier.” He pats him on the back – a little clumsily, Javier notices but he puts a tight smile on his face. He missed a whole lot.
“You too, pops. How have you been?” It’s a question he knows the answer to. He always answers the same – busy. After the death of his wife Pops seemed to spend most of his day outside working on a ranch. Barely coming home to eat or drink. Wanted to occupy his mind. “Seems like you started actually eating as I said.” Pops waves his hand back at him.
“You calling me fat, mijo?” Javier opens his mouth to answer but Pops beat him to it, his belly shaking a little with laughter. “Someone has been helping me out for a while now. Cooking and cleaning the house once in a while.” Javier quirks an eyebrow at this and he pushes the small suitcase as he enters – now his home, too. It didn’t change here in the slightest. Pops throws him a look above his shoulder as he looks him up and down quickly. “Seems like you have been skipping out on meals, my boy. Come, Bee is here and the lunch should be already done. She made Pozole de Pollo o Guajolote. Your mother's recipe.” Javi stands straighter at the nickname. Surely he didn’t mean...
The delicious smell coming from the kitchen makes his stomach rumble and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He abandons the suitcase in the hallway after he takes off his boots and jacket that he puts on the old wooden hanger for coats he made with Pops when he was around 12 –its asymmetrical and weird-looking seeming like it was made by a child – which it was but it’s a memory Javier is very fond of.  
The floors creak under Javier's quick footsteps and he stops in the doorway as he watches you fuss around his dad. His entire body softens, the crease in his forehead disappearing as he sees you in the Peña kitchen. The past coming into the present. Prepping the silverware on the table that lays in the middle of the smaller kitchen. He sees that Pops kept everything in place like it was even before the death of Javi's mother. He missed this place. Even though bittersweet memories crawl out on the surface of his mind and his heart aches like it hadn’t in a really long time.
“Seems like you are a busy bee, Bee.” Javier smirks when you look up at him. You didn’t really change after the last time he had seen you. Sure, you aged – as has he – but you still kept your spark from all those years ago. You smile fondly – and a little unsure – at him as you quickly wipe your hands on the apron wrapped around your middle. And Javier notices - of course, he does. The hesitation in your step when you walk to him. The little twitch of your lips you make when you are nervous.
He is an observant man. He watches and analyzes. And he is good at it too - you squirm under his intense gaze. As if he could see every little part of your soul, even the deepest secrets you kept hidden somewhere back down inside of you. That’s why he is such a good agent. Was, at least. His dark eyes shift to your cleavage just for a second. You don’t notice - his eyes quickly scanning you up and down.
He looks good. Even better than the last time you saw him. The mustache he grew suits him. His hair is longer than he had when he went to high school with you. He is broader and seems even taller. He is a man now, not the little boy you played hide and seek with. He still wears the same smirk on his lips though - that kind of smirk that meant trouble when you two were younger. His jeans hug him in just all the right places and the black shirt he is wearing makes him somehow look even hotter. All man.
“You know me. Never could keep still.”
And he does. He does know you. Or at least he did - when you two were just young kids, then stupid teenagers and suddenly - strangers too. You grew up at the Peña dinner table as much as your own. Your mothers were great friends, your fathers old buddies. You had a farm right next to them which you eventually sold when your folks passed away and it was just too much work for only you alone. You bought a small house with the money you received.  
Javier still remembers when he first saw you – all toothy grin and two braids sitting on top of your head. You wore that stupid flowy dress in an ugly mustard color. You were more of the outgoing type and Javier – to everyone's surprise – was more of the lonely kid. He was smaller than his peers – smaller than you even, when you first met him. And he doesn’t remember why you started talking to him and wanted to become his friend but he didn’t complain at that time. You visited him almost every single day – looking for mischief all around. Broken glasses and bones were nothing new to both of you. The two of you were inseparable – until high school. Javier – for once in his life, thanks to you - didn’t feel so small anymore. He grew up to be a handsome and smart, confident and funny, pretty charming and self-assured young man. Girls started noticing him and he loved the attention – when their heads turned around to look.  They thought he never noticed. But alas, Javier was an observant boy even back then and he noticed – his cockiness getting on your nerves sometimes. He never wanted to feel small again.  
And like almost every girl – you developed a huge crush on him.  But it wasn’t because he was tall and cocky, no. It was simply because you knew the real Javier – your Javi. Who hated being alone and who hated going to the church every Sunday – hiding in the dusty, covered in spider webs attic. He never noticed you – like he noticed the other girls. He never gave you that loop-sided grin or the puppy heart-filled eyes. You were just great friends - even when you wished for more. And one day you weren't even that.
You should have seen it coming, really. With Javier becoming popular, he started hanging out with you less and less. When you came to Peña's household he was already out with his new friends. And you always came running to him like a pathetic little puppy who comes to his owner no matter how many times they kick him. His friends laughed at you. And later on, he started laughing with them. He got a girlfriend – Lorraine, the sweet and perfect Lorraine – before you two stopped talking. The old memory still stings when you think about it.  
It happened on one of those super warm summer nights in Laredo. You wore one of your favorite dresses. It hugged your curves and you thought you look absolutely beautiful in it – your mother said so too. You asked Javi if you could meet up at your spot – the old scrap yard just a couple minutes' walk from both of your houses. When you arrived there your stomach dropped to your feet – his friends sitting with him on your favorite car that was reserved for only you and Javi. Laughing and drinking booze, the atmosphere lose. But you didn’t feel lose – your muscles taunt and all you wanted to do was just turn on your heels and leave. Cry about this stupid little crush you had on this stupid Texas boy. But Javier spotted you before you could do so – somehow he could always spotted you even in the biggest of crowds.
“Bee! Come and join us!” He yelled, one of his hands shooting into the air as he held an unopened can of beer. And with his other hand...he was holding Lorraine. They were close to each other – her almost sitting on his lap as she placed kisses on the column of his throat. You swallowed the ball of anxiety that was building in your throat as you heard them whisper: “Why did you call her, man?” He didn’t answer as he smiled at you. Lorraine's eyes squinting at you in annoyance.
Clearing your throat you asked: “Javi, can we talk?” He just shrugged his shoulders as he hopped off from the roof of the car mumbling a quick “sure”. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt – you noticed just then. The sun was slowly setting and his golden skin shined. The butterflies in your belly made you want to go home and squeal into your pillow. You gulped and a few of his friends whistled – noticing the once-over you gave him.
“Someone has an admirer here, Peña. Too bad she is so fat and ugly! Like a pig – oink oink!” All of them bursted into laughter and to your surprise – so did Javier. He laughed straight into your face and you fought the tears in your eyes to not spill as you finally turned on your heel – as you should have done much sooner – and left. You didn’t see the remorseful look in his eyes and the way his muscle twitched, his mind screaming at him to go after you. He never wanted to feel small ever again and his friends said you were a loser – people like him shouldn’t talk to people like you. He didn´t want to be loser again.
Lorraine pulls him by the shoulder back to her – her tongue plunging into his mouth and when they pull apart she grins, the long nails of hers scraping across his golden-tanned chest.  
“Forget about her, Javi. You don’t need her.” He nodded – unsure – but he didn’t have time to think about it too much as her tongue fought with his once more – the heavy taste of beer on her tongue filling all of his senses.
After that, you stop talking to Javier. You still came to his house - with your mama - but you didn’t greet him anymore and he was pretty sure you told your and his mother as well, as they always threw him a dirty look whenever he was in the same room as you. You didn’t look at him and you didn’t acknowledge his presence anymore. He hated that he felt so small again even though he didn’t have a reason to. He had friends and a girlfriend, and all the girls threw themselves at him. So why does his stomach pull tight anytime he is near you, why does he feel like he lost peace of himself?  
One day he decides he has had enough. Both of your mothers went outside to catch the last rays of the sun and you are alone in the kitchen – baking your famous apple pie. He sneaks behind you and cages you in. You feel his breath on your neck, the slow raise and fall of his chest. You turn around – your noses almost touching – and he sees the hot fury in your eyes. You are covered in flour and Javier thinks – just for a split second - he had never seen you look so fucking beautiful. His gaze lingers on your mouth maybe a little too long because he sees you are talking – your mouth opening and closing.
“What do you want, Javier?” You ask and he had never heard you so annoyed, so drained. You didn’t look like yourself anymore and didn’t sound like it too.  
“Us to start talking again, Bee.” Because Javier is selfish and he takes and takes. Sometimes forgetting to give something back in return. He widens his eyes when he feels the sting on one of his cheeks – his head moving to one side with the force of it. You slapped him. He looks at you – you are all wide eyes and snarling teeth.  
“Fuck you, Peña.” You quickly try to scramble away from him because you feel like crying again. No because of sadness – no. That sadness turned into raw fury after the incident at the scrap yard. Because of how idiotic and stupid he is. And because – no matter what he had done and told you – you can’t seem to shake off the crush you have on him. He grits his teeth and his hand grabs your wrist. Both of your breathing erratic.
“It's not my fault you are not my type, Bee.” He didn’t mean to say that - the words coming from his mouth sound foreign to him. Not right. But his hot temper gets the best of him and the way he said and what he said should not hurt that much. But it does. It feels like he had just stabbed you in the heart and then twisted the knife – deeper and deeper.
You yank away from his grip and you point a finger at him – your hand shaking with the hurt, anger, sadness, Everything coming at you in waves - it feels so fucking overwhelming. You want to scream at him, kick him, hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But what good would it do? None.
You exhale shakily and Javier waits for the fight but it doesn’t come. You shrink into yourself and turn to leave. You look at him above your shoulder as you whisper. “I hate you so fucking much, Javier Peña.” And you are gone.
The heavy weight of your words lingers in the air and he feels the hot tears running down the apple of his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away. His ears are ringing and he doesn’t hear your mother yelling at you about what happened. He doesn’t smell your apple pie burning in the oven. He fucked up. Because he will never get to talk to you again or feel your touch. He will never hear you laugh and he will never get to comfort you again when you cry. Because the only source of your sorrow is him – the stupid Texas boy you now despised.  
Javier comes to present and you give him a quick side hug telling him to sit down. Chucho watches both of you and he prays that you are both wise enough now to sort out this little grudge you have. But you are also both too stubborn and the dinner passes in silence. The only sound is the clinking of silverware cutting through the thick air and sometimes Chucho quips in to ask Javier about Colombia - Javier doesn’t want to talk about that, though. So he stays quiet as he chews - the food tastes exactly like his mother’s.
When Javier sneaks a quick look at you he thinks that maybe he wasn’t such an idiot. The bitterness from your last talk makes his face twist. He hates how - even after all these years - you seem to not acknowledge him even though you try to stay as polite towards him as possible. As if you just look through him and not at him. He watches as you pass his pops a salt and you grin at something he says.
And yeah, you are still definitely not his type.
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Javier sees you almost every day. It drives him fucking crazy. The way you just nod at him when he passes by or is in the same room as you – which is mostly kitchen -, the way you don’t answer his questions about you. How have you been, what did you do after high school? He only knows your folks passed away shortly after he left for Colombia – Chucho told him over the phone. Your parents felt like second ones to him. He wanted to call you after Chucho told him, he really did. But he didn’t know your number – that was just an excuse, he knows that and he also knows Chucho would have given it to him if he asked. He feared that you would hang up on him, that if he heard your broken voice he would book the closest flight to come to you. After all – you were best friends a long time ago.  
Javier wants to know everything about you – but you give him nothing. You are just a big complicated riddle to him and he has no hints to figure you out. He notices you though and the things you still do. You still enjoy watching sunsets as you did when you were younger. And that you talk to plants when you water them or that you still secretly go and feed horses a few sugar cubes even though you really shouldn’t. That you still hum when you cook and squint your eyes on either him or Chucho when they enter the kitchen because you don’t like when somebody disturbs you while you are in you’re your element. You always liked to bake and cook – often sneaking into the kitchen with him late at night because he wanted cookies and you gave in and baked them. Because he asked you to and said please – Javier never said please often and that habit he kept.
So because you don’t seem happy when he wants to talk to you or occupies the same room – you actually don’t seem happy with his presence in general and that makes his heart tighten even if he doesn’t understand why – he spends most of his day tending to the ranch. Feeding the animals and fixing the old barn. Today he started fixing the old fence that didn’t even look like a fence at all anymore. He grunts as he stands up – he is getting old and his back is fucking killing him. The Texas sun makes him sweat, he smells and he feels thirsty – has felt thirsty for a while now. But he knows it's afternoon and you are probably in the house cooking. He contemplates it – he doesn’t want to see you uncomfortable around his sheer presence but fuck. He feels like he could drink a whole gallon of water. Fuck it, he thinks as his steps lead him to the Pena house. You knew he was coming back home – if you didn’t want to stick with him, you wouldn’t.  
When he is finally inside and the sun doesn’t burn his face, he takes off his yellow aviators and the thick working gloves. He is covered in sweat and dirt and as he enters the kitchen you think he never looked better. But he always does in your eyes and you hate yourself for it. You gulp and turn your back to him as you try to quickly scribble the things you need to get at the farmers market today. Your body stiffens when he walks behind you – his shirt brushes against your shoulders - and grabs one of those old funny-looking glasses you painted together when you were probably around 9. The air thickens and the atmosphere is awkward – you both want to say something but nothing comes out of your mouths. Finally, Chucho enters and he looks at Javi and then back at you.
“Go shower, mijo. You are going with Bee today.” It's an order and Javi doesn’t want to argue. His house, his rules. Quite the opposite – maybe the change of setting will finally let you loosen up and you will talk to him. He wants to say to you so much. He looks at you and you gape at Chucho as he throws you a pointed look. You swiftly shut your mouth – Javier taking the steps by two as he wants to scrub himself squeaky clean as soon as possible. He feels positively giddy – it reminds him of the times when he got his first car and drove around Laredo with you.  
When he comes down the hushed conversation between you and Chucho comes to a halt and he looks between you two before Chucho almost pushes you out of the house. You drag your feet behind you and the giddiness he felt leaves him as he sees your “enthusiasm”. He wants to go and hide in the nearest hole, lick the wounds he pretends he doesn’t have but you are already sitting in the passenger seat by the time he gets his head out of the gutter.
The ride is awkward, filled with silence and you squirm every once in a while in your seat. You glance at Javier's profile a few times – his strong jawline and his aquiline nose. You stare at his hands and how come they are so big? The veins are prominent on the back of them - leading to the thick fingers, nails trimmed neatly. His hair is longer now after a few weeks already spend at home. He looks better than when he arrived. Now he didn’t look as...tired. And as skinny – he always devours the meals you cook and you can see him filling up around the middle. His arms were much stronger and more muscular than before because of all the work he did on the ranch. Domesticity looks good on him. You watch as he grips the wheel and see his jaw tick before he sighs.
“I am sorry, Bee.” You raise your brows at him when he glances to see your reaction to his words. He never was good with them “actions speak louder than words” he always said. “I am sorry for what I said and how I treated you during high school. I was a fucking idiot and if I could take it all back-”
“You were.” It's a simple phrase, your words coming out fast and he grips the steering wheel tighter when your hand lands on his thigh. “But that’s all I ever wanted to hear, Javier. Yes, your words and actions hurt me in the past. And they still hurt me now when I think about them. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We were kids and if it didn’t happen I don’t think I would become the person I am now so I accept your apology even if it could have been a better one. You should really work on your people skills.” You shrug your shoulders as you tease him and the hand that was resting on his thigh moves into your lap once again. He wants to tell you you could have kept it there – it felt too fucking good even if it was such a simple and innocent touch. It grounded him and Javier is touch deprived.
“So, that’s it?” He asks, his tongue poking out to lick his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows while he watches the road.  
“Yes, that’s it.”
The conversation flows smoothly after that and Javier can't believe it was that easy. If he apologized much sooner he could have been talking to you for weeks now. He missed this – your talks. You talked with your hands a lot and he enjoys how expressive you are when you are telling something. He learns a lot about you. You own a little bakery here - that’s why you are so flexible and can come almost anytime to the ranch. He feels proud of you – your dream was always to open a small bakery somewhere. At least one of us could make their dream come true. 
You laugh and talk, and tell stupid jokes or occurrences that happened in your life. He missed a whole lot and so have you. Your favorite story of his is when he told about the time his neighbor – an old lady – saw him butt naked because the woman he slept with locked him out of his own apartment after he told her he wanted nothing serious. His neighbor called him over to have some fun which he politely declined. You double over laughing and Javi grins, his cheeks hurting. He missed your laugh – he didn’t feel this comfortable ever since...well ever since you stopped talking.  
The ride passes quickly and when you step out of the car you come around – grabbing Javis's hand as you mumble something about “want to show you around here, Javi, so much changed after you left” as you throw him a quick grin. He can only concentrate on your nimble fingers between his and how it feels so fucking right before you are dragging him behind you.
You are not his type he has to remind himself as he squeezes your hand tightly.
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Javier comes into the house all muddy once again. It has been raining in Laredo for the past few days - the land all soaked soil and dirt. He takes of his boots before he enters. His nose drags him into the kitchen as he catches the smell of pie. Sweet and delicious - or was it just you, standing here all soft and pretty? He can't tell anymore. These past few weeks were filled with nothing but joy – almost. You played cards with him and Chucho late at night, drinking beer and listening to Chucho's stories. Sometimes you went riding with him on the ranch. Your love for horses didn’t die out and you always were natural with them. You have your favorite one too – the small chestnut-colored mare with a fiery temperament that seems to tolerate only you. Chuho wanted to sell her a long time ago but you begged him on your knees – literally – not to. His eyes softened and he agreed reluctantly – he could never say no to you. Something both Peña men had in common. 
 Anytime Javier looks at you he feels his stomach tighten with something – sometimes arousal but he blames that on the lack of sex, sometimes on something entirely else. He tries to push it deep inside him but whenever he catches your smell his head gets all dizzy and he has the need to find you and talk to you, be near you He hates it. He hates it so fucking much. He doesn’t know what you did to him. He can't seem to shake you out of his mind. He thinks of you anytime he sees the sun setting down or the last time he picked violets for you as he saw them growing a few miles away from the ranch. Because you love violets. He gave them to you with a darker shade of red covering his ears as he scratched his neck. You thanked him and kissed him on the cheek then – his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse quickening and his lower half seemed all too interested in the skin-to-skin contact. As your lips lingered on his cheek as he thought about against what other parts of him would they feel so soft.
  Javi leans against the doorframe as he watches you knead the dough – one of the pies already in the oven. You look so nice in your overalls. He could just bend you over the kitchen counter and -
 Shut the fuck up, Peña. Don’t even think about getting hard.
 You startle when you turn around and see him, your dough-covered hand flying to your chest as you yelp. “Javier Peña, don’t scare me like that!” You scowl at him, your lip pursed and he grins – his hands shooting into the air in a silent apology. 
“Didn't mean to, Bee.” The corner of his lips pulls up as you murmur “sure you didn’t" and turn back around to put more flour in the dough. He quickly washes his hands in the sink and comes behind you – he inhales your scent and closes his eyes. The hair on your neck stands up. “You smell so fucking good.” It's a quiet statement. You look at him wide-eyed and he gives you a confused look in return.
 “What did you say?” Your throat pulls tighter. Shit, shit, shit. 
“Uh-um, that if you'd show me how you knead the dough.” He closes his eyes – idiot, idiot. You breathe out a small “oh” and shake the shock off of you as you nod and come behind him as you grab his hands in yours. 
And fuck, Javier thinks his pulse went from zero to a hundred in this second. His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest any second. Your small hands on his makes him think back to a few weeks ago.
 You stayed at Peñas that night.  You always drove back home but that night it was raining a lot and it was too late anyways. You agreed as Chucho asked you if you wanted to stay – they had a smaller spare room right next to Javis. You bid them both good night and fell asleep quickly after that. You were exhausted but a scream woke you up and you swiftly stood up on your feet and scrambled into Javier's room. He sat on the bed – all sweaty, his breath quick as his head rested in his palms. He looked up at you when the old wooden floor creaked under your footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to hide from you. You crouched in front of him and offered him a little smile. 
 “You don’t have to hide from me, Javi.” And then he was pulling you into him, breathing you in, his hands pulled around you tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. He was exhausted of pretending everything was fine. The weight of all the things that he did in Colombia came crashing down on him. You just shushed him as he listened to your heartbeat – his head on your chest, your hand in his as you stroked the back of it. When he finally calmed down he told you everything – the things he did, the things he should have done and the things he shouldn’t have. He told you about Los Pepes and Carilo, and the nightmares that still haunted him. 
 “I am just a shell of a man I once was, Bee.” He whispered into the night and you grabbed both sides of his face as you frowned at him.  
“You are far more than that, Javi.” He wanted to kiss you right there and then but you pulled him on your chest again and he breathed you in once more. The slow rise and fall of your chest lulls him to sleep. He never slept that well in his life.  
When he woke up the other side of the bed was cold but the smell of you – like an apple pie – lingered on the other pillow and he wanted to drown in it. He stroked himself at the thought of you as he smelled the pillow. Your soft hands and the feel of your breasts against his face, the small brush of your lips against his forehead. He came embarrassingly quickly and couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for a few days after that. Neither of you talked about that night. As if it never happened.
So now he curses himself as he feels how he twitches in his pants – the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against his back. The collar of his shirt is a bit too tight as well as his pants. For fucks sake, Peña. He hasn’t slept with anyone since he came back home and it showed. You don’t seem to notice though. 
“You are pretty clumsy with your hands, Javier.” He chokes on seemingly nothing and almost pushes you onto the ground as he stumbles a few steps back. Let me show you how good with my hands I can be - 
“Gotta take a shower.” He says and he takes the steps by two - almost falling over. He closes the door of the bathroom with little more force than necessary. He scrambles with his closes almost ripping them from him and he grabs his aching cock – tugging on it firmly as a spurt of precum shoots out of the head. He steps into the shower – the spray of cold water not helping him calm down his hammering heart or the way his skin seems to be on fire. He strokes himself quickly – the strokes measured as he thinks of your pretty lips around him or that pretty pussy you sure have. He thinks of the swell of your breast on his back, your breath on the back of his neck, your hand in his, your pretty smile and kind eyes. He thinks about how you would feel around him if he pounded into you from behind or what sounds would you make when he would go down on you. How wet would you be? Are you the quiet type or would he have to put his fingers – or something else – in your mouth to shut you up?  
He grunts and his forehead bumps onto the cold tiles of the shower as he cums. He watches how the water downs his spend and he tries to wash the guilt he feels off of him too. 
You are not his type, he thinks as he tugs on his cock for the final time. 
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You are going on a date. Javier watches with a frown on his face as you fumble around to finish the dinner. You are wearing a pretty dress – a light green one with a flowy skirt that exposes the whole expanse of your back. The strings on your shoulder are the only thing keeping it in place. You look absolutely incredible. He didn’t want you to go. Fuck, what if the guy was some kind of psycho? Or worse, what if he was actually a decent guy and you'd stop helping Chucho because you would be too occupied with your new little boy toy? What would Chucho do without you – yes, Chucho of course, not Javier. Javier wasn’t jealous and he definitely wasn’t praying that your date would end up in disaster...Okay, he felt jealous. Like “I will rip that guy in shreds” type of jealous.  
And Javier would be alone tonight – Chucho left in the morning to visit his “friend” - he knows he went to Mária living across from the barber's shop. He didn’t say anythimg – the lie falling out of Chucho’s lips easily. And he felt happy for him – him moving on meant he was healing. Slowly but healing. Javi wanted to do something nice for you two tonight– the store-bought cheesecake lying in the fridge. He thought that you could watch TV today – watch anything you wanted. Maybe then he would slip his hand under the hem of your dress and he would -
“Javi!” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks a few times. You even put on makeup – the red lipstick making your lips look downright edible and he licks his own lips. He could pull you in and make you forget about your silly little date. But for once in his life Javier didn’t want to be greedy when it came down to you – you seemed so excited when you told him you had a date and he planted on the best fake smile on his face he could muster. Even though he felt sick to his stomach when you told him, his fingers twitching to catch your wrist and pull you close – to tell you you should fuck that guy and stay with him tonight. “You listening?”
“Sorry, what did you say?” You groan in annoyance – already running late – and you grab him by the collar – oh, he likes this a lot. You are so fucking close he feels your breath fan across his face.
“Listen, Javi. I don’t have time for this. The Chiles Rellenos are in the oven so they won't get cold as quickly. If it gets cold just put it in the microwave.” he nods – he knows this, of course – but wants to keep you busy because maybe then your date would cancel – no, he can't.
“Okay.” He says slowly and you let go of the collar of his shirt – just now noticing you grabbed him by it. You pull away from him. “If anything-”
“I call you. You already told me. Don’t worry, dad. I'll be fine.” You grin and turn on your heel waving a quick goodbye before the doors shut behind you. Javier gulps the growing ball in his throat and curses at himself. Idiota. But you know - of course you are not his type.
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Javier watches the starry sky tonight. The cheesecake forgotten in the fridge alongside your dinner – he felt so sick to his stomach he was pretty sure he'd throw up if he ate anything. The warm blanket his mother knitted lays heavy on his shoulder as he looks at the sky – millions of stars showing tonight. You'd love to see it – maybe you already are. Star-watching sounds like the kind of date you would have loved. He fiddles with the handle of his mug filled with hot cocoa in his lap and thinks. About how he got here, about his fuck ups – and the biggest fuck up he has ever done was to let you go on that stupid date, he concludes. Okay, maybe not the biggest fuck up but close enough. He straightens up when he spots a car pulling into the driveway – your car. A small grin makes its way onto his lips until he sees your sagged shoulders and the slow way you drag your heels behind you.  
“You have room for another in there?” You ask – your voice small compared to when you left. Pointing a finger at the spot next to him. He nods quickly and when you sit he immediately wraps the blanket around your shoulders – your head resting on his shoulder. It's quiet for a while as he offers you his mug and you drink from it leisurely. He knows you will tell him what happened if you want to. The silence is not awkward – it’s a comfortable one. He always feels comfortable with you. You pull away from him and put the mug on the ground – pulling your knees close to your chin.
“Can I ask you something?” You look at him from the corner of your eye, your words muffled by your knees.  
“Anything, Bee.” And he means that. You could ask him anything in the world and he would answer you no matter what question.  
“Why am I not your type? You know, cuz it seems I am no one's type.” He knows you are referring to the time when he was angry at you after you slapped him. But he didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know how to answer – his tongue heavy all of the sudden and fuck, why is so hard to just tell you.
Rather than answering you he twists his torso so he can look at you – really look at you. The moonlight shines on half of your face and how did he never notice how pretty your eyes were? Or your plush lips, your soft hair? He gulps as he reaches forward tentatively – his palm resting on the side of your face now. And he expects you to pull away – to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t. His throat is dry and he feels like his lungs can't seem to have enough oxygen in them because his brain seems to stop functioning too. He brushes his fingertips across your cheek and you would have never expected that Javier Peña could be so gentle with his touch. He looks at your lips – your mouth open just a tiny bit and he sees your Adam's apple bob. Do you want this as much as he does? Or is he imagining things and projecting his own fucked up desires and feelings onto you at this very moment? He doesn’t have much time to think about it before your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, his breath picks up and your mouth surges forward – your lips meeting his.  
He feels like fireworks just exploded in his stomach. His skin tingles and his hands brush against the front of your dress. Your hand on his nape makes him groan into you and he brushes your collarbone with his calloused hand. He wanted this for so long and he didn’t even know about it. The other grabs you by the neck and pulls you even closer – the blanket falling off of you two when you swing your legs on either side of his narrow hips. He presses his lips against yours with more force and he is confident and greedy with it. He curls his hand around your waist and his fingertips dig into your hip while the other hand presses into your shoulder blades. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins and he is warm and fuzzy all over – his body humming with something he never felt before.
You were never kissed this way before – Javier takes, and takes but gives back even more in return. The kiss is impatient and hungry – like he waited for this all of his life. His hands on your skin make you hum out in pleasure and you trail your hand to his jaw – you can feel the stumble he has under your fingertips. You open your mouth to him and the hand on your hip squeezes you tighter, and he wants you closer, closer – this is not enough. Not close enough. And you feel the same as you pull him closer by the collar and he groans into your mouth.  You can taste the warm cocoa on his tongue and his smell invades all your senses – cigarettes, his cologne and something entirely him. Musky and sweet. Your cheeks burn and your palms are sweaty when he pulls away from the kiss – his hands brushing along the exposed skin on your back, his thumb circling your hip. His forehead rests on yours as he tries to calm down and your nails scrape across his exposed chest – he always has a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt and it drives you insane. He moans when he feels the sensation of your nails on his skin – his hips bucking up to meet yours and you mewl as you feel the bulge press up against your core.
“Fuck, Bee. I want to fuck you so badly. Do you want that too? Tell me. Tell me, please.” Javier Peña said please. He never says please. Yoou nod furiously as you peck him on the lips – his mouth surges to meet yours once again and you lap at his lower lip, your hands fisting into the material of his shirt.  
“Wanted this since I was 16 and crazy in love with you, Javi.” You whisper against his lips and your confession makes his heart beat with joy. You loved him. He grips the flesh on your hips and mumbles a breathy “okay” before he stands up and carries you with him – your legs wrap around his middle. He stumbles a few times and almost trips on the stairs as he keeps kissing you – his tongue nibbling at your collarbones, his hands supporting your weight as he holds you by the back of your thighs.  
When you arrive in his room he throws you on the bed and starts to quickly undress. His fingers shake and he can't seem to unbutton the fucking shirt. Fuck. He stands in front of the edge of the bed and you lean back on your elbows – your gaze heavy with lust. As you see him struggling you crawl onto the edge of the bed and loop your fingers between his belt. He stops and looks at you – you eye the heavy bulge between his thighs and he gulps when your fingers trail his jean-clad cock which jumps with interest under your touch. He has never been this fucking hard before and he knows it's not because for the past few months, the only thing he has been fucking was his fist – it's because of you. “Let me.” You murmur and he nods, he watches your nimble fingers working on his buttons and when he shackles the piece of clothing off him your hands map out his chest, coming down to his belly button and you lick your lips when you see the trail of hairs leading down into the waistband of his jeans. You kiss him right there – on the soft swell of his tummy – and he jumps forward, his hands gripping your head to keep you there. You grin against his skin and your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick him there – he shudders, and the grip on your head loosens. You pull away from him and your hands start working on his belt – it falls to the ground with a quiet cling of the metal.  
You cup him in your hand through the fabric of his jeans – even now you can feel how heavy he is and that he will feel fucking big inside of you. “You are a big boy aren't you, Javi?” He whimpers at your question and nods furiously as he looks down at you – your gaze immediately locking with his as you are already peering up at him through your eyelashes and you pout at his state. You never expected Javier to be so...needy. He closes his eyes when you squeeze him again and then he hears the sound of a zipper, he feels your breath ghosting over his tip. “No underwear?” He shakes his head and chokes when you lick the salty precum.
“No-no. Fuck. Too uncomfortable.” His eyes close as if he's in pain and his nostril flare when he feels the first velvety slide of your tongue against his cock. Your pulse quickens and you feel too fucking powerful right now as you feel him swell even more in your mouth. You hold his gaze as you pull off of him and flatten your tongue – licking your way to the underside of his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, his pupils completely blown as he watches you put open-mouth kisses onto the hard warm flesh that jumps under your attention.  
And he is fucking big – his size obvious by sight and by the way he feels around your hand – heavy and warm. But you really feel it when you take him deeper into your throat the girth of his cock opens your mouth wider. The broken sound between a whimper and a groan makes you clench around nothing and he tastes exactly how you imagined him – clean and delicious – exactly like Javier looks. You can't fit all of him in your mouth but you try – focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat – the squelching sounds of your mouth bobbing up and down his length filling the room. You try to take him deeper and deeper – until you gag around him and pull away. Javis's mouth is wide open when you pull off of him – spit trailing from your lips and connecting you to the swollen tip of his cock. His chest heaves and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip – collecting the saliva – and puts it in his mouth – he groans with approval and it makes you want to give him more.  You sink your awaiting mouth back onto his cock once more and moan when another spurt of precum lands on your tongue. Your hand is securely wrapped around the base of his cock as you stroke him slowly and you look back up at him.
He looks absolutely and positively wrecked – his hair falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he grits his teeth struggling to not make you take him deeper – to not fuck your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as he starts panting harshly and you feel him twitch in your mouth – you can feel he is almost there – but then he pulls back from you.
He almost lifts you into the air as his tongue delves into your mouth – wanting to taste himself on you. The bitterness of himself on your tongue makes him groan into your mouth and you never expected him to be this vocal. He steps out of his jeans and then he is back on you – his fingers working on the straps of your dress while he plants butterfly kisses on the column of your throat. He discards the piece of clothing as if it has offended him somehow and he pulls back to look at you – you can see the muscle on his thigh flex as he tries to keep his balance on his heels. His hands reach back for you – grabbing you under your knees before he is pulling you closer to him. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties before they are too thrown somewhere behind him.  
His thick fingers work their way inside you without a warning – two of them plunging deep. You are soft, and pliant under him. Your walls squeeze him tight when he moves his finger up, up – until you sob and grab his wrist - to stop him or to plea for him to keep doing that you aren't sure. It never felt like this and he grins against the flesh of your cheek – kissing you there softly. His other hand grabs one of your tits and he pinches the nipple – it hardens under his hard touch. He bends down to suck it into his mouth and your hand shoots out to the back of his head – keeping him there. One of your thighs is firmly planted on his shoulder and his fingernails dig into your ankle, the blunt nails creating crescent shapes. Your heel digs into his shoulder with a particular shove into your cunt – the tips of his fingers brushing against something that makes you hold your breath.
The way you keep repeating his name makes him want to never leave your perfect cunt. His name and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him in make him light-headed. He wishes no one would call him Javi again after he hears it from your mouth – whiny and high-pitched, filled with the need to let go.  
“Come on, Bee. I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking give it to me. I want you to soak my fingers.” You nod vigorously and sob when his thumb starts drawing harsh circles against your clit. He hits nerves inside of you you didn’t even knew you had before. You take everything he gives – the flick of his wrist, his fingers petting your walls, his mouth on yours. You cum when he bites you into the juncture between your shoulder and neck – his tongue smoothing the bite. You feel him smile against your mouth when you cry out into him – his fingers still working inside of you until you wheeze and tell him to stop. He pulls them out and maps your body with your juices – the slick trail shining under the moonlight that falls onto the both of you.  
He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom – ripping the foil packet between his teeth before he puts it onto his length. He sits up on his heels – his cock bobbing with the movement and you gulp as he pats his thigh – telling you to come to him and you do – all jelly legged and sedated after your first orgasm. He pulls you close by the small of your back and his cock nudges against your entrance when you swing your legs around his waist. His hairy legs stick to the back of your thighs and you can feel the sweat rolling off him – his hands supporting you as you sink down on him. Your mouth forming into an “o” and you let out a breathless moan. You knew he was big – as his girth opened up your mouth more and the weight of him heavy on your tongue. But this feels entirely different. You squirm on his lap and he grunts – his other hand coming down onto the flesh of your ass. The pinch you feel as he fills you completely is uncomfortable and you grip his bicep – your nails digging into the flesh there. He hisses and kisses you – the kiss languid and slow. His tongue traces your mouth and your grip loosens – your muscles start to relax.
 “Javi, you are so big.” You don’t say him to make him feel better or feed his ego – it's just a fact. Clear and simple. His nose bumps against yours and he looks into your eyes – he is so close he is breathing the oxygen you exhale. 
 “I know, hermosa. But you can take it. Can’t you?” The new term of endearment falling out of his mouth is surprising but welcome nevertheless. He waits for your answer as he fights himself not to move – your walls squeezing around him and he counts to five so he doesn’t cum right now like some kind of fucking teenager.
  Javier slept with a lot of women. One night stands, prostitutes, his fiancé. But he never felt like this with anyone. His heart never hammered in his chest so quickly and the blood in his veins didn’t boil. His skin never felt like it was on fire by a simple touch. It's new and he welcomes it with open arms. He is tired of fighting and running. This is his new life and it's not too bad – it's better than it ever was. He never feels small with you and he chases that feeling.
 “Yes, I can. I can take it. Please move, Javi.” He listens to your command – the first drag of his cock through your walls feels intoxicating. His hot breath fans against your chest as his forehead rests on it and his hand that was gripping your ass moves to your hip – dragging you up and down his cock as you meet his every perfectly measured thrust. He maps your body and listens to your reactions – he figures out what you like or what you really don’t after a few minutes as he pounds into you.
You don’t know which one of you is louder but it makes him even sexier – the guys you’ve been with before weren't so enthusiastic about it and you felt like they didn’t even wanted to be there – the only hint of them enjoying it was when they came with a quiet grunt and fall onto the bed next to you. Javier is different – he always was – and you live for all the sounds he makes. How he gropes you and maps out your body – his fingers dipping into every crease and curve of your body. And you can feel that in each thrust there is this hidden emotion that he doesn’t want to show. But you grew up with him and can read him pretty well – and your heart swells with the unspoken words. You don’t need to hear them. He will figure it out himself eventually.  
He feels that you are close after he gives you a particularly hardh thrust and you squeal – your nails scratching his muscular back that you’ve been ogling anytime he came out of the shower without a t-shirt or when it was too hot outside and decided the piece of clothing wasn’t necessary in that kind of weather. His mustache scrapes along the flesh on your breasts and you feel his hips shift – the change of position making him feel even bigger. He puts his thumb into your mouth as he looks at you and you suck it – it tastes of you and sweat but you don’t care – as he pulls it out and starts rubbing your clit with it.
 It only takes a few drags of his cock before you are cumming – your clit throbbing as he keeps pressure on it. Your walls squeeze him and he feels like he can't move any further. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug him so he is looking at you. He is all lust-blown eyes and his baring teeth turned into a snarl. You can feel every vein and bump in his cock with every thrust and he twitches inside of you – his hand coming to hold the hinge of your jaw as his tongue tangles with yours once again. It's frantic as are his deep thrusts and you are pretty sure he will break the bed soon – the headboard hitting the wall with every pass of his hips. You admire how fucking lost in you he looks – slack-jawed and dazed. You tug on his hair once more and the reaction is almost instant – his hips faltering for a moment seemingly losing his rhythm. 
“Come on, Javi. I want you to look at me when you cum.” Your requests makes him shut his eyes before he shudders and opens them – your name a broken record when he spills into the condom. You scratch him on the back of his head – your movements slow and languid. He pulls out of you after a moment – when he catches his breath and his heartbeat evens out – even though when he is with you it seems impossible. 
The aftercare is soft and sweet as he lays on his back and pulls you close to him – stroking your spine and kissing the top of your head. 
“Do you want me to leave?” He pulls you tighter against him after you ask him that and he grips your chin so you look at him. 
“Never again, Bee. I want you right here with me.” You sigh in contentment and give him a sweet kiss.
 You are definitely his type, Javier thinks as he feels your breath even out and slowly, he falls asleep too – you in his arms – and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
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boiohboii · 9 months
Text
The Spaniard's Wife (Carlos Sainz x wife!reader)
Inspired by @charles-eclair16 's fic
Carlos Sainz had a secret for the past 9 years, but when he forgot to take off the one thing that can reveal everything, everyone has questions
or
in which Carlos let's everyone know that the rumors, in fact, are true
masterlist
N.B: didn't turn out how I wanted but I've been rewriting it multiple times and I think this is the best option, hope you like it...WARNINGS: swear words a lot, not proof read, spelling mistakes and really bad photoshop tbh, if I missed anything please let me know!
Faceclaim: Emeraude Toubia
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Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris and 910,583 others
Carlossainz55: my wife and I have been friends for 20 years, we have been lovers for 13 of those years, engaged for 2 and married for 9. I have never been sure of much, but I am sure that I love her with my entire heart, I will always love her. I have known yn since before I could even dream of being an f1 driver, what happened in that one interview was disrespectful and just disgusting. No one has any right to speak any ill word of my wife, you don't know her and you never will, as long as she doesn't want you to. I will do everything for her, for her happiness, her comfort and for her ease of mind.
landonorris: tell yn I miss her!
Carlossainz55: leave her alone
landonorris: I'll tell her that you're rude to me
Carlossainz55: she's my wife!
landonorris: yeah yeah, you never let us forget it
username: yn been here since day 0 apparently, can't fight her now
username: YES!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS!
username: I want dts to make a reincarnation of their love story
username: we need a spinoff
username: yes! It'd be so cute
username: I can't imagine 16 year old carlos realising he is in love with his friend
username: she is every man's wet dream
-this comment has been removed-
username: she looks so pretty wtf
username: she's looks like a doll
username: wish i looked like that at 20 years old
username: her dress is phenomenal
username: this screams money
username: 2 different cars for a wedding
username: the third slide, holy shit
username: I wouldn't be surprised if the last 2 pictures are carlos' or her house, like holy fuck
username: both scream rich
username: mum used to say rich people look it and I never gave it much thought until I saw carlos sainz and now his wife
username: did y'all see the picture that one twitter user took? Their outfits looked so fucking good
username: YES! I SAW IT! I could never afford a thread on either outfit!
username: did you guys see her hair! It looks so thick and healthy
username: fr!
username: I want a wedding like that!
username: I want a husband like that!
username: I want a wife like that!
username: I love how he is not in one single picture 💀😂
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Liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, Pierregasly and 1,209,316 others
Carlossainz55: 10 years since i was able to call you wife, and I will never get tired of letting everyone know that. I am in love with you, forever and always.
Charles_leclerc: simp
Carlossainz55: I don't know what that means
landonorris: ikr, it's laughable man @.Charles_leclerc
Charles_leclerc: don't pretend like you're not the same with your girl @.landonorris
username: damn charles really coming for everyone's neck today
username: bet charles is the biggest simp of them
username: he really making us feel lonely as hell huh
username: 10 fucking years, Holy shit!
username: no cause if I had yn by my side I too would be in fucking love
username: don't embarrass yourself, everyone knows you're in love without her by your side
username: I didn't ask to be attacked like that wtf
3K notes · View notes
teenytinyjimin · 8 days
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i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)
nothing happened in the way i wanted
every corner of this house is haunted
and i know you said that we’re not talking
but i miss you, i’m sorry.
summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2k
tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please
warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise
author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.
also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Bars weren't really your thing.
If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.
Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.
Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?
Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).
You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.
You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.
"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.
"Hey."
You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.
"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.
As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.
"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."
"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."
"You know that stuff's bad for you."
"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."
"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."
"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"
"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."
"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."
You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."
"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"
"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."
"We aren't strangers either though."
"That doesn't matter. Not friends."
"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."
"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."
"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"
You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.
"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.
You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.
You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.
Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.
You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.
"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."
Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.
"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.
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alicerosejensen · 6 months
Text
Warning: Yandere!Older Leon; young reader (20-25 years old); kidnapping, pet names, not Stockholm Syndrome, but the reader no longer resists Leon; mentions of sex; mentions of pregnancy, apathy.
Synopsis: If you knew who Leon Kennedy was, you would have avoided him, but it's too late.
A/N: I'm bad at writing summaries and coming up with titles for this shit. Just a yandere Leon and his pregnant reader hidden from the whole world.
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It was raining incessantly for the second day, rolling down the glass of the second-floor window in large drops when you were lying on a straightened bed and staring unblinkingly at the weather raging outside in one of the wide warm hoodies. Even a favorite TV show or a good movie with delicious food could not brighten up the gloom of a gray day, because didn't want to get up and go down at all, especially since has already returned home.
Leon probably didn't bother to find out the weather forecast for the next few days, because he left the house on one motorcycle, which should have already been parked in the garage. You listened with bated breath to the heavy footsteps of his shoes as he climbed to the second floor after opening all these numerous locks on the front door. At some point, you even felt that small wave of fear that sometimes overwhelmed you when he was around.
You have been in his hands for more than a year, during which he suppressed all resistance but was never able to get what he wanted - your love. He probably should have turned to a specialist and fixed his head since he really didn’t understand why you didn’t love him and didn’t want to make contact, on the other hand, such an influence made you obey Leon and even enjoy sex with him after which you felt guilty. Ultimately, given the fact that Leon did not consider it necessary to protect himself, this resulted in undesirable consequences. For you, not for him.
When the bedroom door opened, you held your breath as he walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down, reaching out to you. Water from his wet hair dripped onto your face but he didn't seem to care as he leaned towards you placing one hand on your bump.
You didn’t even flinch or turn to him when his lips touched your neck.
"How are my pretty girl and our baby feeling?" the whisper sent a chill inside.
It wasn't worth the risk of testing his patience. You already tried and realized that it would be worse only for you but not for him.
Leon put his hand under your sweatshirt, pressing lightly on you, forcing you to turn to face him so that you were faced with the blue of his eyes, which looked at you with manic admiration.
“I...we’re fine,” you replied, watching him take off his wet leather jacket, throwing it somewhere towards the window and wrapping his arms around your pregnant belly.
The belly that you hated so much and preferred to wear oversized clothes so as not to notice it in the mirror until the last moment.
“My baby…” with trembling reverence, Leon put his head on your stomach, lifting up your hoodie, kissing the warm skin "my baby… Dad missed you two so much. You know, I brought gifts," he grinned, looking at you.
This sight made you sick, causing another surge of hostility towards him and your unwanted pregnancy.
"I want to see how your belly grows...how my baby grows inside you."
“Leon, I don’t think...” you didn’t finish as he interrupted you.
"Do not think!" He said authoritatively, sitting back on the edge of the bed with the intention of paying attention to you. “Will I think for the two of us or would it be more correct to say for the three of us?” that grin of his again
He probably didn't like that sweatshirt you were wearing, so he asked you to wait while he came down to get your gift. Leon quickly left the bedroom and you were able to breathe a little sigh of relief after straightening your clothes, although the happiness was short-lived and just a couple of minutes later Leon returned with a small white box wrapped in red ribbon, which he handed to you, sitting next to you.
"What is this?" you asked, looking at the light-weight box, afraid to open it, as if there was a bomb in there.
"Open it"
Your hands slowly reached for the ribbon, pulling it towards you. A thin strip of fabric fell into your lap, and you opened the lid of the box, putting it next to you on the bed, looking at a set of lace pajamas with an almost indifferent look, consisting of short light gray shorts that looked more like panties, and a pale pink T-shirt with a cute bow under the bodice. It matched the size, but would definitely emphasize your rounded belly.
"I'm sure this will suit you. It's like you're carrying my gift under your heart." He said, noticing the indifference on your face. “Don’t you like it, angel?”
You liked it before. You think that if he were a normal guy and not a psycho with a mania to control your life every breath, then you would be a gift, but in reality, no. However, it was better to lie.
“It's beautiful, I’m just tired. I don’t feel very well,” his hands immediately reached out to you and pressed you to him, stroking your head and kissing your temple.
"Oh, well, I'm already here for you." you snorted quietly, only thinking about how peaceful it was without him. “I want you to wear this today. In the meantime, let’s go, I want to show you something.”
You put the pajamas back in the box and had no desire to go with him, but Leon took your hand and hugged your waist, gently pushing you towards the door. He probably bought something for the baby too, but it was probably some small thing like a toy or a rattle, but in spite of that, he opened the door of an unfinished children’s room for you that still needed to be painted. He had already ordered a changing table and a baby chest of drawers, which arrived about three weeks ago and now stood alone in an empty room. Leon led you to the changing table and you saw two pairs of baby undershirts.
"couldn't help but buy for our baby" His hands continued to caress your belly, irritating you even more "Especially since I took a few unpaid days off and we can order other things."
“It’s too early for such purchases”
“We will be ready in advance,” another kiss fell on the back of the head, “especially since time will fly by quickly, before we have time to look back, our child will already be in our arms.”
This is what you are so afraid of. Leon doesn't even notice the fear of pregnancy and completely ignores your reluctance to become the mother of his child. Your eyes began to tear up looking at the children’s things that you wanted to tear and throw with all the pent-up rage in his face! You wanted to break all this furniture, because everything that happened to you was not your desire. And you didn’t want and don’t want this child.
Does he really think that you like being locked up in his house and carrying his child?! What has the government done to his brain that Leon thinks he has the right to control your life?
"What is it, angel?" Leon asked seeing tears in your eyes. His lips continued to kiss your head down to your neck. You couldn't even resist while he held you to his chest.
“I...don’t want to,” your voice cracked from the bitter lump in your throat.
Leon sighed irritably, making you a little scared, but nevertheless, tears flowed down your cheeks. His hands squeezed your waist almost to the point of pain as he turned you around to face him. A spark of incipient anger flashed in his pale blue eyes, but he pulled himself together, but for a short moment he looked away, trying not to break down. After all, he was already sure that he had suppressed all your resistance and convinced you that only he could take care of you in this cruel world. An oppressive atmosphere reigned in the nursery. Leon's silence was frightening, making you regret what you said. Under the gaze, wanted to shrink and cry somewhere in the corner of the room and finally wake up from all this nightmare.
"It's just hormones" Leon's dissatisfied tone did not let you be deceived. "A little excitement, that's all. Do you believe me, but I'm worried too? This is normal, because this is our first child."
You wanted to howl after those words. The thought that you would have to give birth to hated children from your abductor and stay locked up for days without permission to go out at least into the courtyard of the house did not inspire you with happiness. Leon controlled every aspect of your life and, of course, will control the lives of his children, who will definitely not be happy.
"You don't have to say that. When the baby is born, everything will get better, it will be a little hard for us at first, but you know, I'm thinking of putting a crib in our bedroom. So we don't have to run to another room when the baby wakes up." his gaze softened for a moment and he took your face in his hands, carefully wiping tears from his cheeks with his thumb "Just nerves okay? I know that we will be so happy as soon as this lump of happiness finally appears on our hands. I've wanted a family all my life and now I won't miss this opportunity."
"It was your dream, not mine." the words spoken had a touch of light courage, although they were uttered with apprehension and even despair.
"It will also be your dream" Leon kissed you on the forehead, pressing to his chest "We will be so happy. I promise"
"Do you really think I'm happy here? Do you really think it's okay to keep me under surveillance here like I'm a criminal? Do you really think I'll be happy to be the mother of a child I never wanted?!"
Leon grabbed you by the face harder, forcing you to hold your breath and your heart beat faster from fear. Of course, he never beat, but sometimes his punishments were worse than physical violence, but inside there was a glimmer of hope that he would be afraid to cause any harm because of your pregnancy.
"I'm doing this for your safety. Believe me, one day completely changed my life and I'm not going to lose the people I care about anymore. The world outside is very dangerous and you just can't survive without someone to take care of you, but that someone is me."
"If the world is as dangerous as you say, then why the hell do you decide to have children?"
A logical damn question! And Leon was clearly confused by it. But selfish desires sometimes overshadow the human mind.
"I'm trying to end this crap. Once I thought it was really wrong, but eventually I thought it over…what's wrong with coming from hell to a house where your real family is waiting for you? Cute kids from my beloved wife who would meet me at the door and whom I would hug. I didn't have a family," he said sadly, "I lost my parents too early, when I was still a child myself, and I always wanted my father to be proud of my achievements at school or teach something new. I hardly remember my mother's affection, but I can give it to our children!"
"This is not the answer to the question" You said without pausing like a statue in front of him clenched in strong male hands
"well…" Leon grinned loosening his grip, "in any period of humanity there have always been their own dangers: diseases, wars, famine, pandemics and so on. But if everyone thinks as I thought before, then humanity will definitely die out. My fear should not interfere with my happiness. The main thing is that I can take care of everything and keep my family safe."
His conviction of his own rightness was indestructible. Leon perceived your abduction and forcible detention as forced care for a loved one who could get hurt with an ordinary fork if he relaxed his vigilance a little. In the end, he grabbed your hand and dragged you down to the first floor, squeezing your fingers tightly, as if he was afraid that you might dissolve at any second. But, unfortunately, all past escape attempts were doomed to failure in advance. Perhaps if you play the obedient girl for a long time, pretending that they really love him and accept this abnormal care, then one day you will have a chance to sneak away, but how long will it take? A year? Two? By that time, the baby will already be born, and for some reason you were sure that his hypercontrol would only increase several times.
Suddenly a funny thought came to mind.
Leon once mentioned that he was a policeman. Apparently, he took the phrase "to serve and protect" too literally.
"What now? Will you punish me?" you asked feeling completely desperate because you were not sure that your acting could last so long that he would believe in this lie. Even if you run away, how long will it take him to find you? You can only escape from Kennedy to the next world.
Leon sat you down at the table intending to take care of your lunch, besides, it was certainly important to him that you eat properly and properly. He seems to have read all the books that said what pregnant women can and cannot eat. By the way, he ignored your question for a long time until you called out to him again.
"You are an obedient girl and don't do anything that could harm our child. I'm sure it's just hormones and nerves. When you give birth, you will feel the joy of motherhood"
As if not so!
You wanted to flush his love and care down the toilet because… you did not experience any Stockholm syndrome and if at the beginning of your acquaintance with Leon you experienced exceptionally bright feelings, perhaps even falling in love, now there was nothing but rejection. Although they don't want to admit to themselves that…sometimes his shoulder and gentle strokes were the most beautiful that you could only get in a lifetime.
In the end, you spent the evening on the couch watching some show curled up in a ball while Leon was sitting somewhere behind typing something on a laptop. He checked on you a couple of times and couldn't resist kissing you on the forehead, as if he thought that in front of him was a cute plush toy that needed to be cuddled. You didn't know what to do and whether you would ever be free again…maybe if one day he gets killed in the line of duty…
You stole a look at him when Leon was brushing his teeth in the bathroom and you were already lying in bed in that new lace pajamas. The thought was seductive and to some extent intoxicating, because perhaps it was his accidental death that could one day free you from this imprisonment.
Even when he lay down next to you, especially intently examining your bulging belly, which was noticeable in such clothes.
Leon pulls up his shirt and leaves a wet kiss near the navel while you scroll through this thought in your head.
Perhaps one day the higher powers will have mercy on you, and everything will end… But now, it seems, there was nothing else to do but just accept your inevitable fate and find himself back in the warm embrace from which gradually does not want to get out.
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rowretro · 2 months
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Yandere Sunghoon ex plss
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✧warnings: yandere/toxic themes, violence, death, forceful kissing, blood
 ♡synopsis: Park Sunghoon is y/n’s ex boyfriend. People assumed that you were at fault given how seemingly perfect he is, he’s good at everything he does, and he’s extremely handsome who wouldn’t fall for Sunghoon. It was a shame really, you loved him and he loves you too… maybe a little too much…
✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧
1 year of dating and y/n broke it off just like that. It’s only been a week and people have already spread all kinds of rumors as to what could’ve happened. Perhaps Sunghoon realized Y/n wasn’t all that some’d say, maybe y/n herself cheated on him. Whatever the rumor was, it was always putting you in a bad light. If only they knew why you broke up with him, if only they knew Sunghoon for who he truly was.
Not even the law itself cared for Sunghoon’s crimes.Y/n had walked into him hiding one of his crimes very well. Taehyun, who had asked her out quite recently, not even bothered by the fact you were dating Sunghoon at the time, was lying there cold and bloody. Sunghoon, dragging his body into the deep ditch. “This is nothing babe… he had no life anyway, no siblings, neglecting parents, and he was in a street gang…” he simply said as he dumped the somewhat damp soil on the man’s body, the ditch gradually filling up. 
Not even the police cared to take the case, why would they when the Park Sunghoon is the culprit. So she broke up with him. After a tense argument with him Sunghoon left the building to cool off, that’s when she decided it was best to leave. Most of her stuff was already at her old apartment, she simply breached his security system and left leaving a note saying that she’s breaking up with him.
Only been a week since then, just y/n and her thoughts alone in the cozy little apartment. She felt a little fear, wondering if he might kill her, or kidnap her, or do one of the most dark, sinister things she could never be able to think of. A little heartbroken because she loved him and he’s all she could ever ask for. She just wanted to move on though it was easier said than done. Heaving a sigh, y/n made her way to the kitchen, pouring some hot water into a pan, and boiling some ready-made tapioca pearls. 
The girl cleaned up the house a little before adding a little sugar to her now- ready tapioca pearls, using a spoon to dig right into it. As she took a bite out of her little sweet snack, she heard the doorbell suddenly ring, making her flinch. She wasn’t expecting any visitors… Sunghoon on the other hand, was still looking for her while remaining under the radar. Then it hit him, he had the perfect item to bring her back…She was hesitant, her hand on the door handle, a frying pan in the other, she peeked through the small gap as she opened the door. She opened it widely, a smile painting her face when her eyes laid upon the male at her door. “Jay!” she exclaimed as he smiled, hugging her.
“Y/n~ long time no see huh, what brings you back home?” he enquired as Y/n sighed. “I broke up with my boyfriend so I moved back home” she said as Jay nodded.The two conversed for over an hour before leaving the building in his car, the two driving to one of her favorite restaurants. “Jay- isn’t that the road?...” Y/n asked as Jay glanced at her in the mirror “Yeah, but I’m taking you to a different one, it’s way better” Jay reassured as she nodded, trusting his word. Then everything felt familiar… the road, the signs, the tattered billboard sign and that god forsaken house…
“Nice work Park Jongseong…” Sunghoon smirked his dark eyes now on you. How could he fucking betray her?! Park Jongseong? The Jay, your best friend for 5 years lead you back to her boyfriend’s hell. “Anything for you bro… also don’t forget mom’s birthday party” he simply said as he left the building. Of course. How did she miss it? They’re brothers. “Back home?... what is this about some break up sweetheart?... who talked you into it?...” Sunghoon asked as y/n just glared up at him.
“I fucking hate you.” she seethed through gritted teeth as he slapped her “No no silly… you don’t hate me… you love me. You love me like crazy but you just don’t know it yet” he explained in a sickeningly sweet tone that made her stomach feel like it was being squished in the claws of a demon. Sunghoon’s fingers softly threaded through her hair, his finger twirling a few strands of her dark hair.
 “There’s something you need to learn sweetheart… you’re mine. That fucking means you’re stuck with me forever. We WILL date. We WILL get married and we WILL die together. So no we haven’t broken up we never will you FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!!!” he asked, yanking her hair painfully harshly all of a sudden. “Y-yes… I do…” she trailed off, hating every word that left her word. Hearing her words, the male planted his lips on her, forcing his tongue into her mouth, a hand still gripping at her hair as another snaked around her waist. She was stuck with him forever.
✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧
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gurugirl · 1 month
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coming soon to tumblr | handyman!harry
821 word teaser - 10k+ one shot already posted on Patreon.
One shot summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for. Based on this request.
. . .
Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.
“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”
You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.
Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.
But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.
And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.
You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.
Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.
“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”
“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”
He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”
You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”
Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”
You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”
“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.
When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.
“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.
Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”
. . .
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gabigabigabby · 4 months
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cristiano's daughter | j. félix
joão félix x ronaldo!footballer!reader
synopsis: joão steals your celebration as his way of telling you that goal was yours
a/n: plot is set during the euro qualifier game against luxembourg in march where he did that celebration with his arms crossed (ifykyk). joão is barça player bc it's perfect for this plot and y/n is barça femeni player. again, perfect for the plot. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 700++ FOLLOWERS, ik it's bee a while since i was on here but i really do appreciate all the love you give on my works 🥹🥹 so enjoy this one!
content/warnings: fluffy as hell, y/n taking a promise extremely seriously, dialogue in portuguese and spanish, eva and mateo being the cutest twin siblings ever, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! 💫
🎵 streaming: infrunami - steve lacy
"papá nos estamos mirando. devuélvenos el saludo." gio begins talking, but you were in your football la-la-land.
i could've done a bicycle kick yesterday, you thought. it could've been my match.
don't you just love it? being in your own thoughts for the 500th time today. sense the sarcasm? "y/n," gio catches your attention, snapping you out of your head. "joão te busca, cariño." [dad is looking for us, wave back. joão is looking for you, sweetheart.]
your eyes run all over the pitch before landing on the squad, joão the second to last guy in the line-up. he sends you a wave, grinning to himself when he sees you facing him. he'd never know if you were making eye contact or not; he was just happy you were there. you wave back at him, not even bothering to hide your smile from your stepmother.
"estoy feliz de que estés feliz. y tienes suerte porque es un chico lindo," gio winks before you both share a laugh; something you missed sharing with georgina. because of your tight schedule and the fact that you play football in spain and don't live in riyadh with your parents and siblings, you'd missed out every single important thing that's happened in the ronaldo house. eva and mateo's sixth birthday, alana's first day of school, bella's first steps, junior joining the al-nassr academy. everything. "¿sabes lo que significa? bebés lindos." [i'm happy you're happy. and you're lucky because he's a cute boy. and you know what that means? cute babies.]
"mamá!" you try to stop gio from going any further. because babies? aren't you too young to be thinking about children right now? your career at barcelona had only begun to skyrocket, and joão had only recently began his season stint at the club. children and settling down should be the last thing on both your minds. although every now and then, you can't help but think about it. would you and joão last long enough for children of your own in the future? "i'm only 22." you mutter under your breath, soft enough for gio to completely miss it.
the referee's whistle snaps you out of your own thoughts — a place you'd often find yourself in when you're out of the pitch. you were worried about the fact that joão barely got to feel the ball. especially after he promised you he'd give you a strike tonight.
"no, i promise," his voice lingers around you from hours ago. "i'll make sure i get the ball, and it's yours, querida. eu prometo." [i promise]
well, he promised — and promises stick with you like gorilla glue. even at the ripe old age of 22, you still believe in pinky promises the way georgina still believes in romance movies. that's besides the point.
it was up till the point after your dad was awarded a penalty. he took it, it went in, your dad is a worldwide legend, blah blah blah. you knew it was bound to happen everytime portugal play. the game was inching up to 14 minutes as your legs begin to bounce nervously. what made it worse was that mateo was on your lap when it happened.
"querida, why are your legs shaking?" mateo's neck cranes to look at you. all you could give him was a weak smile.
"nothing, 'zinho. just nervous for papai like all of us, né?" you answer, hoping mateo will take it and leave it alone.
"you're nervous for joão." if there's one thing you could curse about mateo, it's how close he is to you, even though you no longer live with your family. on his day, mateo would feel lonely — even though he's a twin — and ask gio to facetime you. most of the time, he'd catch you at the right time; driving back home from training, going out for lunch with joão on an off day. and sometimes you wouldn't pick up, occupied with training for the upcoming game that week.
mateo would never fail to call you at least twice a month, understanding how tight your schedule is and that he has to leave you alone sometimes, afraid you'd be exhausted after a long day of training. sometimes you'd give him a call too, missing your queridinho on your day.
"não somos todos?" you nervously chuckle, your hands were resting on mateo's lap, its fingers slowly picking at your cuticles. [aren't we all?]
"si, but you're stressed," mateo pouts. "joão told me you made him promise to score tonight. and you know what, y/n? i hope he scores too." he gives you his typical mateo smile; the absolute sweetest thing you could ever see.
not even a mere few seconds later, a cross from bernardo comes in. you try to anticipate which portugal boy it'd reach. you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding when you see the ball making immediate contact with joão's head, as he nicks the ball in past the luxembourg goalkeeper.
the crowd was anticlimactic, though, you'd have to say. there is a totally valid reason for it. is joão offside or not? the referee blows his whistle, giving the goal to portugal as they now lead the game 2-0. you carefully picked mateo up as you stand, the boy's arms in the air as he celebrates the allowed goal from his hermano. you watch as joão turns to the grandstand your family is situated at.
you can only assume he's looking at you at that point, but gio turns to face you and mateo to state the obvious. "el te esta mirando!" gio screams in a whispery manner. you'd only assumed that, but you were wearing the white portugal away kit, allowing joão to identify you clear as day from the pitch compared to the rest of your family who were clad in black winter coats. you agree, the weather is a bit nippy in luxembourg.
joão looks you dead in the eye — or you assume — and crosses his arms. you immediately realise what it meant, smiling to yourself as your dad, bruno and bernardo begin to crowd him and give him words of congratulations on the smooth yet second nature goal of his.
you wait till after the game, where they defeat luxembourg 6-0 to regroup with joão and cristiano. cris, before anything, would engulf gio and bella first, giving joão full leeway to reach for you first. "did you see?!" the taste of excitement is still sweet and prominent on joão's tongue when he speaks.
"i saw! my celebration at barça. thief." you joke, pushing a fist into his bicep playfully.
"amo-te, linda. obrigado por estar aqui." joão smiles, not hesitating to squish your face into his chest. [i love you beautiful, thank you for being here]
"eu vim buscar o papai, mas tudo bem." you shrug jokingly before finding yourself in your papai's arms and listening to him thank you for coming to a portugal game — an away game, no less. [i came for dad, but okay]
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joelsmochi · 5 months
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Diet Mountain Dew
rating: E 18+ only pairing: f!reader x bfd!joel miller (tv + game series) summary: your boyfriend has been cheating on you, but his uncaring, selfish, and very flirtatious father wants to make it up to you the best way he knows how... warnings: AU (no apocalypse, no sarah), infidelity, 30+ year age gap, asphyxiophilia, dacryphilia, a little rough housing, hair pulling, spanking, oral (m receiving) | let me know if i've missed any! wc: 5.5k a/n: thank you for 500 followers!!! let the record show that i do not condone or endorse cheating at all, this is purely for entertainment purposes!!! i tried something a little bit different with the writing style so please let me know if you guys like it or not!
you’re no good for me, but baby i want you…
He couldn’t help his filthy mind. Even if he wanted to. Being around you was always a test of his willpower.
He kept as much distance as respectfully possible, not wanting to give himself away. Still, every night he managed to find himself lying in bed fisting his cock while entertaining the daydreams he often had of fucking you into the bed.
It wasn’t the age difference that deterred him from you, but the mere fact that you were dating his son.
He hated himself for it, but he hated it even more when he would be painting his stomach with white streaks and barely whispering remnants of your name.
And now, as he sits across from you and his son at the dinner table, he hates himself for finding you so pretty.
His eyes keep lowering to look at your grey and white striped tank top — not because he was trying to look at your cleavage but because it fits you perfectly. You kept fidgeting with the top hem of your shirt as if you were ensuring it wasn’t shifting too low. He thought it was cute.
Your voice left him in a trance; he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, but he enjoyed hearing you rave and ramble about the movie you just went to.
The real mood killer was Jacob — “Okay, we get it. It was a good movie,” he snapped.
“Jacob,” Joel scolded. Though the pout you absentmindedly wore told Joel that it was pointless.
Jacob made an incredulous face and slightly shrugged. “What? She’s been talking about the movie for ten minutes. I feel like I saw the damn thing.”
“Well, I happen to like spoilers.” Joel meant it as a joke in hopes of lightening the mood, but once he saw the slight smile on your face, he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness.
How he could appreciate you more than his son did was beyond him. Joel just hoped it wasn’t a more significant issue behind closed doors.
Over the next few months, Joel had been seeing less and less of you and even managed to overhear some of the times Jacob had been arguing with you over the phone.
From the only half of the conversation he could hear, Joel gathered that you were upset that Jacob was spending more time with “friends” than you, which led Joel to believe it was more of an indication of cheating. He stayed tightlipped about it because he had no desire to stir up any unnecessary drama, but his curiosity grew as time passed.
So when he saw you grabbing some cereal in the grocery store on a random Tuesday, he wasted no time approaching you.
You seemed surprised at him calling your name but gave him a welcoming smile nonetheless.
“Hi, Joel, how are you?”
“I’m alright, how ‘bout you? Feel like I haven’t seen you around lately.”
Your smile nearly dropped completely. “Yeah, uh. Jacob and I are just going through a tough time right now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Joel said softly, not really meaning it. “My son aside, I do actually enjoy your company. I mean, you’re the only twenty-four year old I know that likes U2.”
That made you chuckle. “Oh, is my seasoned music taste the only thing I have going for myself,” you bantered.
He tried to contain his blush as if it were even possible. “No, not at all,” he sarcastically replied. “You also don’t use like or totally after every other word.”
You laughed harder at that, maybe a little more than necessary, but it was nice to be complimented on things other than how ‘good you give head.’
A few minutes later, you told Joel you have to get going, and for some reason, he took it as the chance to say, “Next week, they’ll have that new Daniel Craig movie in theaters. I was wonderin’ if you’d want to go. I remember you said something about it.”
You smirked up at him and narrowed your eyes slowly. “Are you asking your son’s girlfriend on a date, Mr. Miller?”
Kind of, he thought.
“No! No, fuck,” he hissed, pinching his nose bridge and squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”
And there’s another cute laugh coming out of you. “I’m teasin’. I think it might be a little weird, y’know?”
“Jake can come if you want. Doesn’t have to just be you and me.”
“Mmm… I kinda don’t want him to,” you admitted. “He’ll just complain the whole time. We’re friends, right? Let’s go, just you and me.” Your optimism plastered a smile on his face, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think it was cute. He agreed, and you both said your goodbyes.
As you walked away, you felt a pang of guilt for some reason. It wasn’t a date, but it felt like one. This sudden need to impress Joel Miller (formerly anticipated father-in-law) made you feel weird.
But you thought of all the nights you spent home alone watching movies because your boyfriend was out late again. And again. And again.
After a long and stressful internal debate inside a bath with some Epsom salts, you decided not to care.
So what if you wanted to dress up and wear a little makeup to (hopefully) catch your boyfriend’s dad’s attention? It's not like your boyfriend didn’t spend time doing body shots off of some random girl at the furthest bar across town.
A little male attention wouldn’t hurt anything, right? 
Besides, you didn’t think Joel would actually care. Pretending it was a date was purely just for your entertainment.
So when the day came, you practically ran outside the second you got a text message from him saying he was there. He chewed on his bottom lip to restrain his grin as he watched you walk towards his car, wearing a denim mini-skirt and a white babydoll top.
Your hair was neat and tucked behind your ears, and you were visibly wearing more makeup than usual.
He felt flattered, entertaining the idea of you putting in a little extra effort just for him.
The ride to the car wasn’t as tense as you had anticipated. You both spent it to talk about the previous movie and the theories you both had for the new one.
While you both were excited to see the actual movie, neither of you could stop noticing the small details about each other.
He smelled your lotion. You smelled his body wash.
He noticed your new earrings. You caught him smiling a lot more.
He looked at you every chance he got. You waited until he looked away to look at him.
He insisted on paying for your tickets and food at the theater, then led you to the “best seats” in the viewing room. Not a date, your ass. He even looked like he put effort into buying a new pair of jeans.
The tension inside you grew as soon as the movie began. And fucking hell, you didn’t know you could get so horny so fast. It was stupid little things that made you clench your thighs occasionally.
No fingers brushing. No elbows touching. Nothing like that.
Instead, it was the sound of his fingernails scratching the thick layer of scruff along his jaw, how he occasionally readjusted in his seat and seemingly spread his legs a little more, and when he would look over at you to ensure you were enjoying the movie.
This had gone a little further in your head than you intended, but you didn’t fucking want it to stop.
Maybe halfway through the movie, he realized you hadn't opened any of your candy. You always ate candy during a movie; it was something Jacob found cute when you first started dating and something Joel grew accustomed to long before his crush even developed. Joel even made it a point to keep a stash for when Jacob had you over for movie night.
He felt a little silly for hyper-fixating on such a weird and relatively small detail, but then he saw your legs clench together. He tried telling himself you were only readjusting your position, but then you sighed in a peculiar tone. The sigh that Joel always let out when he was sexually frustrated.
He would have continued telling himself he was reading too much into it, but another soft sigh left your lips, and suddenly, all he could think about was having you beneath him making the same pretty noises.
All the signs were there, but who would initiate it, and how? He worried he bit off more than he could chew by inviting you here. It only got more difficult to ignore when his cock stiffened inside his jeans, rolling his eyes at the fact that he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home to take care of it.
You noticed his hand palming his jeans and glanced over at him, only to see his erection throb against his pants, hard.
Knowing you’d probably regret it, you put your hand beneath the armrest and suddenly rested your hand high up on his thigh. His body tensing made you halt any more sudden movements, but nothing suggested he wanted you to stop.
He searched for the strength to push your hand off and tell you to stop, that this was wrong, and to remind you of your assumed loyalty to his son.
But he didn’t want that at all.
He liked having your hand on his thigh where it felt like it belonged, painted nails drawing small circles along the denim.
What he truly needed was for this fucking movie to be over. Once it finally was, he wasted no time getting you back into his truck.
“Joel?” Your voice was fragile and soft, and you wondered why he hadn’t made a move yet or at least started the engine. “Should I not have done that?”
“What were you thinkin’?” Was all he could think to ask.
“Guess I wasn’t.”
“No. You shouldn’t’a done that.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You will be.”
You don’t remember who initiated it or climbed in the backseat first. All you knew was that you were looking at the back of a building, the mall, or something, and you heard Joel grunting next to your ear while his hips slammed against your ass.
You felt a soreness forming around where his rough hands were holding you, but you didn’t flinch or pull away. You leaned into the meanness of his grip, allowing it to satiate all of that burning desire running along your flesh.
“Oh my God, Joel, ye-yes.”
His name dripping so effortlessly from your lips only urged him to fuck you even faster, his truck no doubt shaking violently because of it, some metal underneath made that obnoxious creaking sound to verify.
“You like that, huh,” he groaned; his fingers wrapped around the cuff of your elbow to meet his body halfway with the thrusts. “Needy fuckin’ girl. Takin’ me so well-agh!“
“So deep,” you huffed out.
“C’mere.”
Joel carefully turned your body around, sitting you back against the door before sliding his cock back inside of you with ease from how wet you were.
“Joel,” you moaned without reason, eyes fluttering shut as the curve of his shaft continued to rut into that sensitive spot.
He pulled the strap of your tank top down to find you braless. Of course. He smirked and licked his thumb and index finger before giving your stiff nipple a soft pinch.
Your breath shuddered at the surge of pleasure, and then he did the same thing to your clit with his other hand.
“Oh my fucking-“ You cut words off with a deep moan, finding it a little silly that such a slight squeeze to your clit could make you melt the way it did.
“Tha’ feel good, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse from choking back his own moans.
You hummed and nodded, something he thought was cute and began to rub your clit forcefully with his big thumb. Your mind felt numb from all of it, so much pleasure releasing itself.
Looking up at Joel made you feel so small, protected, and cared for. Looking down between your legs, he looked so focused on making you feel good.
“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?”
You shot your wide-eyed gaze up at him, surprised at his sudden appraisal of his son.
He chuckled and took his hand from your breast to softly hold your chin. “You gettin’ all shy on me now, girl?” Suddenly, he fell to an achingly slow rhythm and curled his hips into yours instead of his previous thrusting. “…I thought you had a bit more confidence than that.”
You scowled at his taunts, not sure what to say back. You just wanted to fucking cum. Noticing your lack of response made him chuckle again.
“What? My son don’t fuck you stupid like this?” He whispered onto your lips.
“…No,” you finally whimpered.
You felt a weird rush of emotion pass through you; the father of your boyfriend talking down on him while simultaneously fucking you didn’t turn you off like it maybe should have… If anything, it pushed you closer to the edge.
Joel raised his eyebrows in amusement and half smiled at your flushed face. “No?” His finger still made loops around your clits, his cock drenched in your heat. He wanted you to feel all of it.
“You make me feel so good, Joel.” You reached up to give him a chaste kiss.
“You take me so well, honey,” he said against your neck. “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, baby? Hmm?”
You whispered out your confirmation and grabbed a hold of his greying hair. You wanted to memorize this moment thread by thread. His hair smelled of cheap shampoo and his beard of coffee, but his arms and chest smelled like him with the hint of sweat that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. God, how you could just bathe in him, cumming and unfolding in his strong arms. 
“Oh- Joel, I’m cu—I’m cumming,” you choked out. He said something about how good you were that you couldn’t quite process.
You held onto him tightly and cried out at the sensation of your knotted-up tension unraveling inside you like a Christmas present just waiting to be opened up. It fluttered and filled every corner of your mind, all while you moaned his name. You couldn’t even confuse it with his son’s. Joel.
Joel just worked better in your mind than Jacob ever could. Joel worked your body better, too. Maybe even a little better than you.
Your mind was so fucking blank that you almost didn’t feel Joel collapse onto you as he finished himself, moaning your name and running his hands all over you as if to savor it. He kissed you softly, slowly pulling out of you, and discarded the condom somewhere.
“So pretty when you cum.”
You lazily giggled at the compliment and sat up to grab your panties, but Joel snatched them from your weak hand. He took your legs and rested them in his lap to slide the fabric up your calves and thighs. You just watched and smiled at his further appreciation for your body as he did the same with your skirt.
“You really know how to treat a lady,” you playfully cooed, reaching for another kiss that he returned, savoring it.
He bashfully smiled, like his mind was elsewhere. “You know we can’t do this again, right?”
“We will,” you quipped, confidence returning; he glanced over at you and frowned, confused at the sly grin you wore proudly. You climbed onto his lap and ran your nails over his facial hair, trailing over his pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows. “The more you fight it, the more you’ll need me, Joel.”
And fuck, were you right.
Weeks. He waited weeks after that encounter to see you. Weeks, he felt disappointed when you didn’t attend the weekly dinner that Joel and Jacob agreed upon him moving out.
He no longer felt guilty touching himself to thoughts of you. He was angry. Why couldn’t you just say you agreed with him instead of letting him know there was an opportunity to do it again? Why make yourself available to anyone other than his (shitty) son?
That anger turned into thirst when you finally decided to show up for Jacob’s small birthday dinner. Aunts, uncles, and cousins gathered to wish the only child a happy birthday. Meanwhile, Joel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you the second you walked in — partially because he wasn’t expecting you to show up after not seeing you for a while, but he’d never seen you wear something so… Short.
As possessive as he wanted to be, he knew he had to keep his composure not to reward you the satisfaction and keep his promise to himself. What he hadn’t considered is that you would not make those same promises.
While Joel finished preparing the food, you told Jacob you’d help bring everything else out so he could sit around the living room and talk to his family and friends.
You took the unnecessary route and grazed your chest against Joel’s elbow as you reached into the refrigerator to grab some drinks before taking them to the other room. You made as many sly little trips like that, not looking at or towards Joel whatsoever but making sure he was looking at you.
You saved Joel’s beer for last. You always brought him his beer once you realized he usually had one before eating dinner any time you were over. It wasn’t anything malicious or sneaky until now.
You grabbed the brown glass bottle and stood next to him. Finally giving him the satisfaction of looking at him, you twisted the cap off and wrapped your lips around the cold rim, tilting the glass up and tasting some of the orange-flavored liquid, lips coming off the bottle with a pop.
Those lips. That noise. It filled his mind with the image of you a second ago, only instead of a beer bottle, he imagined his hard cock.
He watched carefully as you licked up a running droplet from the side of the neck; you held the bottle up for him to take, and tensely, he did so.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” His usual response but in a more sultry tone.
It made you blush and stare at him like he hung the stars and moon every night for you. “You’re welcome, Joel.”
He kept his eyes on you as you walked away for the last time, thinking about everything he wanted to do to you.
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His hands were firm, clasped tightly around your wrists. His body pressed into your back while he pushed you against the wall. He hated that you were laughing. That you thought this was a funny game.
He thrusted into your ass without care, hurting you slightly with the pressure. He grabbed a hold of your hair and yanked it. He almost smiled at you, yelping out.
“Where’s that little fucking smile at now, huh,” he gritted. Then he planted a hard smack to your cheek, not bothering to soothe it the slightest bit. “You think you can just tease me and test me and fucking treat me however you want? Hmm? Think you can walk around with your ass damn near hangin’ out of this fucking dress?”
A tear rolled down your burning cheek as you whimpered, “I’m sorry, Joel. I w-wanted your attention.”
“You got what you wanted. Don’t fuckin’ cry about it now.”
Feeling your panties fill with a warm desire, you felt pathetic and weak.
Do I like that, you wondered, feeling used and being hurt?
You got your confirmation from the dumb little whimper you let out when you felt Joel’s body release from you. He boots thumping against the floor a few times before the bed creaked from his body weight.
“Get on your knees,” he ordered.
You pushed away from the wall and tiptoed to him. He almost felt bad for making you cry, but you were pushing his fucking buttons all night long. You sank to the floor, sitting on your bare feet and looking at him through wet eyelashes. Joel was more than glad that Jacob decided to go to a party with his friends and even more pleased that he didn't ask questions when you said you'd stay to help Joel clean up.
“I’m sorry, Joel-“
“You will be.”
You softly smile at him, repeating those words, knowing this time he meant it.
His eyes were cold and shallow when they stared into yours as his hands worked to undo his belt buckle. The metal teeth clanking together made you shudder, and you tried your best to keep your eyes locked with his.
“You misbehave once, and this belt goes ‘round your neck,” he warned, “we clear?”
You bashfully nodded, thankful he accepted it as an answer. Though you secretly hoped he would do it already, knowing you were bound to back talk him at some point.
Joel began to undo his jeans, and he made a ticking noise behind his teeth, ruminating on how you played with him at the table.
“Playin’ with my cock under the table,” he grunted, pulling his jeans down to his knees, “what kinda girl are you?”
“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, felt you,” you said, glancing down at the growing erection beneath his plaid boxers. “I was being needy.”
“Yes, you were,” he simpered, “but you know I like that.”
You hesitated for a second before jumping into his lap and kissing him. Thrown off, it was a moment until he relaxed into your body, grasping the sides of your waist and hungrily kissing you back with a groan emitting from his throat.
He tasted like a man. He smelled like a man. Beer and body wash and perspiration drowning your senses. Your pussy ached when he slipped his beer-coated tongue into your mouth, sloppily licking around the ridges of your teeth and lips, tasting your chapstick and that one sip of alcohol you stole from him a couple of hours prior.
He felt your shaky hands reach to pull his cock out of his boxers; you pumped it slowly with one hand between your bodies, causing his moans to fall into your mouth.
He got a hold of your tits and massaged them gently before giving your nipples both a hard pinch, making you yelp and pull away from him. After chuckling at your pouty face, he grabbed hold of your hair and pulled it to his liking, almost treating you like a rag doll.
“Need you to suck my cock,” he choked out, sounding almost as if he were pleading of you to do it.
“Are you asking?”
He tugged your hair a little harder to signal he was not asking.
“Yes, sir.”
He watched intently as you stripped down to your panties and sat back in your previous position on the floor, taking his pants off and propping your arms on his burly thighs. He leaned back after unbuttoning his shirt and watched your tongue lick up a thick bead of precum from his tip, and you swallowed it without a second thought.
You drooled and spit all over his cock, wanting to make it a little messy for him, and even spreading some around his balls which made him incandescently moan.
And finally, you took him into your mouth, slobbering and sucking and moaning away around his girth. Your hand pumped to the sane rhythm of your mouth while gently squeezing and twisting it to add to his pleasure.
Joel’s head fell back in ecstasy; he couldn’t hold back his moans even if he wanted to. Your mouth was so warm and inviting, and it felt so fucking good. Your tongue lapping away as you sucked drove him crazy, and he found himself wondering why the fuck his son was cheating on you.
“That’s it, baby—mnh, fuck,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Ohh, just like that.”
His hand stroked your hair, and you looked up at him from the touch. Those eyes of yours made his thighs twitch and his stomach contract.
He wanted to punish you for making him wait, for teasing him, for being so fucking irresistible… But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. He felt weak beneath you, out of control. And he loved it: watching you take control of him, his dick. The slurping noises coming from your mouth not only suggested that you knew what you were doing but that you fucking loved it.
Your lips humming around him and creating webs of spit and precum made his dick harder than he had ever felt it. He was so close already, dire for his release, and it didn’t help when you surprised him with a rough thrust into your throat.
It hurt a lot, but that’s what you wanted. To ruin yourself for him. Show Joel what he could be getting every fucking night. Tears ran down your cheeks as you put him further down your throat until your nose was buried into the black and grey hairs surrounding the base of his cock.
He cried out your name and obscenities, saying, “Please,” for something, but you were not sure what exactly. His trembling thighs began closing around your head, not aiding in the lack of oxygen you had left, but he tried to fight it. You refused to let up on him, only swallowing hard and gagging harder, waiting for him to shoot his cum down your throat.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Oh fuck, no one- agh—no one’s ever fucking gone that deep-“
That’s what he was pleading for: he wanted you to quit. He didn’t want to cum so soon. But he tasted so good, and you had gotten him so fucking close, you couldn’t see yourself quitting now.
You pulled your head up to mess with Joel’s head, making him think you were listening. But you only went back down, making him pull your hair to stop you from disobeying him. Your lips departed from him with a pop, the same pop that he'd heard when you took a sip of his drink. It made him all the more desperate.
Despite your coughing and choking, he slipped his belt around your neck and looped it, not saying anything to ridicule you and simply tugging at the belt roughly. You choked a little more and then smiled at him, drool dripping down your chin onto your breasts. The sight was purely pornographic. Your lips were puffy, your face red, eyes dark and welling up, tears streaks on your cheekbones.
“Since you wanna fucking choke on something so bad…”
He tugged at the belt once again to emphasize his point. He stood up and yanked the leather to guide you where he wanted, yet that proud look never left your face. You were on all fours on the bed as if you were on display for him, and he stood behind you, pressing his thumb to your slit and spreading your juices around lazily.
You hummed at the small amount of friction and arched your ass up for him. Wiggling your hips in desperation, he smacked your ass hard enough to sting, the echo in the room ringing against your eardrums.
Joel smacked his fat tip against your asshole smirking when he felt it pucker; he took his wet cock in his hand, pumping it a few times before allowing it to sink inside of your needy cunt. You found yourself burying your face into the sheets as he began fucking you, the tug around your neck digging deeper as Joel maintained his grip on it.
“Such a fucking slut, so wet from just sucking my cock,” he spat, watching his cock disappear into your swelling pussy over and over and over. “S’it feel good, baby?”
You nodded, arching your back even more to feel him reach deeper and whimpering whenever his tip brutally bumped your cervix.
Suddenly, you felt a firm yank against your neck. “Use your words.”
“Feels so good, Joel,” you answered.
A swell of desire fills your belly, growing each time he thrusts into that sweet little spot inside of you. You’re clawing at the bed, reaching your neck forward to apply the satisfaction of not being able to breathe.
His free hand pressed against the swell of your ass, gripping it tightly as his hips snapped against the back of your thighs, making a clapping sound fill the room. You moaned into his duvet, slobber trailing out of the corners of your mouth. His balls hitting your clit with every thrust gave you the added pleasure you needed to finish if he kept this rhythm, but his voice was what you needed to send you over the edge.
"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he groaned. "Love how you squeeze my cock with it. Ohh, yeah, that's it, baby. You need to cum? Hmm? Does this pretty pussy need to cum?"
Your moans, muffled by the sheets, resulted in him pulling the belt up enough to make you lift your head so that he could hear you more clearly. "Yes yes yesss, Joel- MNH, oh fuck yes, please please."
He never forgot how your body gave away when you needed to cum; your body heaved with anticipation, your knuckles turned pale from your tight grip, your walls clung to him tighter than what was comfortable (which he fucking lived for then and now), and your moans heightened in pitch and volume. He couldn't punish you when you sounded so sexy screaming his name, it was his biggest weakness.
"I know, baby, I know. You can come," he encouraged sweetly, massaging the dip in your back to help relax you. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Need to feel you- fuck- cum for me."
And a few seconds later, you were convulsing beneath him from the tight coil inside of you finally breaking into shreds. The belt being pulled tighter around your neck rendered you helpless as it created the euphoria of what felt like nearly passing out. The fuzzy vision and the black spots sent your mind into a daze, or it could have been the lack of air. Your eyes grew heavy as your orgasm persisted from Joel's lack of mercy for your cunt. He just pounded away like you were made for him and his enjoyment only, and it thrilled you even more.
He grabbed your shoulder gently to bring your back to his chest and let go of the belt. You breathed heavily, and Joel kissed your jaw endearingly, his beard scraping your skin.
"So good f'me, you know that?" He moaned against your ear. His eyes fluttered shut when his hand went to cradle your chin, and he felt all of the saliva and tears coating your face. 
"Can't take it," you mumbled.
Your cunt was aching and sore, still pulsing from the harsh climax you had to endure with him not easing up at all. Your lips were swollen from his rough pounding, and your ass was burning from his hairs scratching against you. His cruel laugh filled your ears and made even more tears fall from your eyes.
"Fucking ruined you," he chuckled, earning another moan from you. "You can take it, baby. I know you can. I know you can be a good girl for me. Gonna fill you up with my cum- mmngh... Make sure this pussy knows it belongs to me."
"It does," you huff out, reaching to hold onto his forearms. "Not anyone else. Not even me. Just for you, Joel. It's all yours. Not even Jacob's."
That sent him over the edge. A pathetic whimper followed by a moan left his hoarse throat while he gave you one last powerful thrust. That cold feeling of guilt flooded his body and turned him on even more; he relished in the confidence you reclaimed, knowing that the guilt and secrecy of it all also turned you on in the darkest of ways.
"Fuck," he shouted as the last of his spend poured inside of your sore pussy. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and slowly pulled out of you to sit beside you on the bed before you climbed to straddle his thighs. "You're amazing," he whispered against your lips whilst unraveling the belt from your neck. "You know you really are gonna help me clean up," he teased, sending you into a short fit of laughter.
"Only if we get to make one more mess, Mr. Miller."
dividers by cafekitsune
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shegatsby · 15 days
Text
Love Thy Enemy
Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.
A/N; Hi my little doves, I've missed you, I'm in love with my work lol I really enjoy writing this series so don't forget to share your thoughts with me. Don't worry, there will be SMUT in the future chapters. Sorry for any typos English isn't my first language.
TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Text me if i forgot to tag you little doves 🕊️ ♥️)
Warnings; Violence. Angst. Enemies to lovers. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha,reader is reffered to as she/her.
Words; 2.232K
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Chapter Four- ‘’Misery Begins’’
Giedi Prime, House Harkonenn
The air felt heavy in her lungs, the planet was orbiting a black sun, thus, everything outside looked black and white, no wonder these people were raised like animals, planet’s harsh conditions shaped their characteristics. The second she stepped out of the ship she hated every single thing but kept a firm stance.
Now she was settling in the guest quarters, the wedding was to be in 7 days and thankfully Harkonnen traditions says that they, under any circumstance, cannot stay in the same room.
Y/N had few of her personal maids and the rest was Harkonnen servants, all dressed in black with bald heads and pale, thin figures. Y/N noticed the looks she got from them, an outsider…
Inside the fortress one could see colors yet Harkonenns choose to keep it simple, her chambers consisted of a bedroom,  a small living room, and bathroom. Without a word she moved to the velvet armchair which was facing outside, she didn’t want to engage in any conversation with anyone, ‘’Prepare my bath.’’ She ordered without looking at any of them and then moved to the desk in her bedroom to write a letter to her family saying that she landed on the planet safely and everything was fine of course she knew that every letter she would sent was going to be read by Feyd-Rautha’s most trusted politicians, maybe even by himself so she kept the letter short. ‘’Send this to my family.’’ She gave the metal, thin device which was the letter to a servant, ‘’Yes my Lady.’’
After her bath which consisted of warm water and bath oils she brought from home, she smelled fresh and felt better. She was on her desk reading when her door was knocked, ‘’Yes?’’
A servant girl entered, she looked sickly pale and thin, her eyes on the floor, her hands interlaced on her thin stomach, ‘’Na-Baron wishes to dine with you my Lady.’’ It wasn’t a wish, it was an order. ‘’The trip have made me exhausted, please tell Na-Baron that I desire to rest.’’
She noticed the girl’s change of body language, her eyes rose to look at her ladyship pleadingly.  Y/N kindly smiled at the girl, oblivious to what was going to happen, she dismissed the servant girl.
The black sun of Giedi Prime shone bright just like the day before, Y/N decided to do some reading, learn more about the planet’s ecosystem. She had a light breakfast, the air still stingy in her lungs, she didn’t have much appetite.
Y/N Atreides was on her desk, taking notes and reading and her door knocked, ‘’Come in.’’ she was focused on the old books, ‘’My Lady.’’
‘’Yes?’’ she turned to face a man, he was a guard in his dark uniform. ‘’Na-Baron has a gift for you. He insists that you should open it after I am dismissed.’’ A strange request but what wasn’t strange about him anyways?!
Y/N couldn’t read the guard’s expression, his face was a blank slate, however he look more pale than usual skin color, was he ill? ‘’Thank you, place the box on the floor and you may be dismissed.’’ He did what he was told. She stood up and approached to the metal box, there was a strong smell of iron coming from it, it appeared there was no lock, no writings. Just in case, she placed the portable force field on her hand, activated it and tested it, working just fine.
Her hand went to open the metal box and her first reaction was to scream in terror, and her second reaction was to run to her bathroom and throw up her breakfast, shaking uncontrollably, on her knees like a wild animal.
Y/N Atreides didn’t know how many minutes or decades she had spent in that position, finally one of her old maids came for her rescue. ‘’My Lady…’’ she was an old woman with white hair and motherly touch, ‘’It’s okay now..’’ she was rubbing Y/N’s back gently and whispering kind words.  ‘’Is it-‘’ she sobbed, ‘’is it gone?’’
‘’I took care of it my Lady.’’ She helped Y/N stand up and leave the bathroom. The metal box which had the servant girl’s head was gone and yet she could feel her eyes watching her every move. She threw the shield on her hand and marched out of her chambers. There was a solider guarding her chambers, ‘’Where is Na-Baron?’’ she asked trying to control her tone. ‘’He has a meeting with Baron Vladimir and Glossu Rabban.’’
‘’Take me to him.’’ She said, could feel the anger on her chest, so hefty. ‘’But my Lady-‘’
‘’Take me to him.’’ She used the voice on him, the guard, without a word started to guide her to the meeting room. The corridors of the fortress were mostly black, some grey and white here and there, there were guards on watch duties, servants cleaning or carrying stuff. It was so different than the environment she grew up in, in Caladan or Emperor’s planet was vivid and thriving, here it was just… lifeless. She cursed her fate.
There were two guards on the doors of the meeting room, ‘’Open.’’ She used the voice again and the doors were opened slowly, Baron Vladimir was sitting on a metal chair which was placed on marble steps, towering over Glossu Rabban and Feyd-Rautha who were standing and looking up at him, listening to him as if their lives depend on it.. well.. they weren’t wrong. Baron was surprised to see her. ‘’Lady Y/N!’’ he announced which made the boys look at her direction but she refused to look at them, her focus was on Baron. ‘’What a lovely surprise, I hope you quarters to your liking.’’ Y/N bowed in courtesy, ‘’Thank you my Baron, you are the most generous.’’ She had to control her anger and she was doing a good job, keeping things formal. She had to be respectful to the family otherwise her position let alone her life would be at stake, she remembered Feyd’s words; ‘’Try to humiliate me again and see what happens, little dove.’’ The room was barren with only a long marble table and chairs, the curtains were closed and white glowglobes lighting the room, no carpets, no ornaments. ‘’What do we owe the pleasure of your visit?’’ he asked, she could see he was trying to understand her moves. ‘’I must speak with Na-Baron. It is urgent.’’ Finally she turned to face him, even though he was standing far away she could see his body reacting to her words, he was alert and an animalistic shine on his eyes. ‘’Feyd, please escort your wife-to-be to a more secluded area and discuss.’’ His uncle said and Feyd bowed to him quickly, ‘’Yes uncle.’’ And then he turned to her, marching like a soldier, he held her arm and escorted her out of the room, his grip was tight, he made her follow him. Since there were guards and servants everywhere she didn’t dare to utter a word.
Y/N had no idea where they were going, the fortress was a maze and every corridor looked similar. They reached a door, Feyd dismissed the guards and opened the heavy black door. Quite frankly he threw her inside, before she got a chance to look around she spit her venom. ‘’What is wrong with you?!’’ Feyd looked puzzled, ‘’Did you really beheaded that girl just because I refused to dine with you?!’’ she could feel her whole body shake in anger, being in his presence disturbed her equilibrium. ‘’Oh, that.’’ He remembered, his behavior made it worse for her. ‘’Yes, that!’’ He didn’t close the space between them, his hands behind his back. ‘’Did I upset you, little dove?’’ was he mocking her? ‘’Upset?!’’ Y/N couldn’t believe her ears, what happened to that sweet boy she met years ago?
He started to move towards her like a predator, he was much taller than her, towering above her she had to look up to meet his icy blue orbits. Years had turned him into a killing machine, what a shame. She hoped to see remorse in those beautiful eyes but found nothing. Back of his hand found her heated cheek, touching ever so gently, it made one wonder how could he behead an innocent girl and then touch his wife-to-be like a tender lover. ‘’This is what happens when you reject my orders.’’ His voice calm and collective. ‘’I hate you!’’ and she pushed his chest but had no impact so she moved away from his aura. That’s when she noticed that they were in his quarters of the fortress, she remembered the fact that he dismissed the guards, no one to help her if things were to took a turn. ‘’You hate me?’’ he asked, still calm. ‘’What else… do you also fear me?’’
‘’No.’’ she simply answered. His none existent eyebrows rose, his pupils dilated ever so slightly, she noticed how still he was, like a statue. His nostrils flared with a passion she could not placed.
‘’No? So you don’t fear me.’’ He repeated back, folding his arms, he wasn’t angry, only curious. ‘’Not at all?’’
‘’You aren’t allowed to hurt me.’’ Her voice higher than his.
‘’Not allowed?’’ he tilted his head, his voice low and husky, ‘’and how can you be so certain of such?’’ a slight smile pulled at his plump lips, ‘’What makes you so confident in that?’’ he knew his own intentions but he was curios of what went on within her pretty head. There was a certain aura about Y/N that intrigued Feyd, he was watching, listening and studying her.
‘’Let me go back to my home.’’ She whispered, even she didn’t believe herself but that was her intention, to go back and ride her horse, walk in the lush gardens, laugh with her other Bene Gesserit friends. ‘’You assume you have the final word where you go.’’ He chuckled, his voice lower than before. ‘’I decide where you go.’’ His gaze grew sharp like an animal, ‘’I decide what you do. And what I decide..’’ Feyd laughed again, ‘’You’re going to obey.’’
‘’I had a life before you took me, I had a family and friends and, and..’’ she could feel her eyes getting blurry, ‘’And?’’ he insisted, ‘’I had a partner, a lover, and you scared him away!’’ she was practically yelling at this point, female rage taking over her body. ‘’A lover? Don’t make me laugh little girl. If he was so in love with you-‘’ he opened his arms looking around, ‘’where is he? Why isn’t he here defending your honor and saving you from me?!’’ with the mention of Y/N’a former partner Pyramus, Feyd-Rautha wasn’t so calm anymore, he could feel rage rising in his body.  
‘’Because of you! You scared him and he ran! Otherwise he would be here-‘’
‘’Don’t be that stupid Y/N! He wasn’t so scared when I offered him a deal.’’
And with that Y/N was confused, ‘’What deal?’’
Feyd-Rautha was pacing in the room in anger, he couldn’t believe she was still ‘’in love’’ with that low life, waste of space. ‘’I offered him a supply of spice which will outlive him and his children and his children’s children. A generation wealth so to speak.’’
Y/N was shaking her head in rejection, her gaze focused on the floor, ‘’No, no,’’ she whispered, not believing what Feyd was suggesting. ‘’Yes Y/N! Your lover didn’t hesitate a second and took the deal.’’
‘’Then why did he try to escape with me?!’’ she yelled in pain, her heart was torn into pieces, ‘’I wanted you to see how pathetic he was and I staged it.’’ Feyd’s chest heaving with anger and he was so passionate to prove her he was right, he turned to go to the next room and brought back a metal device, he opened it, ‘’Here, he signed the deal.’’ She took it and saw the spice deal written on it, millions of gallons.. and Pyramus’ signature at the bottom…
Feyd grabbed the metal device and threw it on the couch near him, ‘’Not going to lie, you weren’t cheap.’’ And she slapped him.
Feyd-Rautha was slapped by a woman for the first time in his life, he froze for a second, shocked to see how bold she could be. He was even turned on a bit. With both of his hands he grabbed her delicate shoulders tightly, he was much stronger than her. ‘’LET GO OF ME-‘’
Feyd-Rautha didn’t care what she wanted, ‘’I might hurt you physically Y/N, but I would never do that to you. I would never sell what’s mine for something else. Do you hear me?!’’ his voice was rough and irritated her ears, her body was in shock and her shoulders hurting her. ‘’I would never leave what’s mine behind and walk away, I am a man, see me as a man not that little boy you met years ago!’’
Was that a love confession, no it couldn’t be.. someone like Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen couldn’t possibly feel something so pure and innocent, or was it just being possessive and showing her that her life was in his hands till death do them apart. The stress overcame her body, her vision was getting darker and the last thing she saw was Feyd’s pretty eyes.
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Thank you for reading. :)
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edenalieth · 6 months
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ON
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Pairing: Bangchan x afab!reader
Genre: bff to more, fluff, smut (mdni!)
Warnings: chan is a loud whiny boy, lowkey a perv too, dry humping, fingering (f), unprotected sex (don’t do this please), semi orgasm denial (f) 
Honestly, Chan secretly loved when your friends were saying you would look good together and he couldn’t agree more. Through the years, his feelings for you had evolved into something deeper. However, afraid to ruin your friendship, he just kept them for himself and was fucking some strangers met on dating app from time to time. Despite his efforts, you were haunting his mind and he just ended up ghosting his dates. Yet, the devil seemed to have other plans for him today, making it difficult for Chan to stick to his principles…
Words: 3K
A.N: hi it's cami! i think it's the first time im posting a fic so close of an other one haha, english is not my first language so I apologize for the mistakes.. hope you enjoy ♡ — 231105
« Come on, stop moving or I’m gonna mess it up », you sighed, highly concentrated on your best friend’s hand. « As if it wasn’t already » he scoffed. As expected, you glared at him which made him laugh a lot. In fact, the nail art you were doing on him was pretty good. A mix of black patterns, some nails fully painted and you even tried some chrome on an other one. He loved to spend his evening at your house. It was kind of a ritual. At least once a week, you met together to do an activity and relax from your busy adulthood. Tonight was nail salon, as you called it. Then you would probably watch something and he would leave around 1am. The usual. 
You were sitting cross-legged in front of him, wearing one of his old black tee you had stolen from his dressing and some loose sports shorts. If one of your friends were seeing you like that, they would not miss the chance to tease you about it. They always thought that you and Chan were crushing on each other. It was true that you were probably acting a bit odd compared to regular best friends. Always spending your free time together, calling each other daily, being a bit more touchy and cuddly. And saying you didn’t find him hot would have been a huge lie. Honestly, Chan secretly loved when your friends were saying you would look good together and he couldn’t agree more. Through the years, his feelings for you had evolved into something deeper. However, afraid to ruin your friendship, he just kept them for himself and was fucking some strangers met on dating app from time to time. Despite his efforts, you were haunting his mind and he just ended up ghosting his dates. Yet, the devil seemed to have other plans for him today, making it difficult for Chan to stick to his principles… 
A bit bored while waiting for you to finish, he was freely looking at you, knowing you wouldn’t catch him. Still concentrated, your lips were forming a pout, he thought it was really cute and held back a smile. What wasn’t cute was the way his shirt, too big for you, was dropping on your shoulder and collarbone. This felt way too domestic. He was about to look away when he noticed it. The way you were sitting was actually giving him a full view on it. You weren’t wearing any underwear… His hand twitched and you started to grumble « Chan Bahng. Please stop moving. It’s the last one. » He could feel his cheeks and ears turning crimson as you looked at him right in the eyes. Did you realize something ? You seemed slightly confused but went back to your work. Why did he had to see it ? He needed to think about something else, anything. « Tadam! It’s done! » you proudly announced, a smirk adorning your face. « You like what you see ? » you were expectant. You thought it was really great but your best friend’s face seemed uneasy. Chan was caught off guard by the double meaning of your sentence. « Y-yea, it’s really pretty. » he stuttered. And it was but something else was really pretty and he started to wonder how it would feel on his tongue… You frowned « Hmm, you don’t seem to believe it. » you stated, arms crossed on your chest. Damn it. His pants were feeling tighter and tighter. He cursed himself. Why was he acting like a teenager suddenly ? « Y/N. I love it. And I would also love some tea. » he said in an attempt to distract you and for him to calm down. You rolled your eyes. « Geez. You men always want everything. » despite your complain, you stood up and went toward your kitchen buffet. The black haired boy almost sighed in relief. He started to scan his surroundings furiously, trying to find something to hide his growing boner. A pillow was resting on your sofa, this would do the job. « Which flavor do you want ? Mint ? Raspberry ? Earl Grey ? » you called him out, bringing his full attention back to you. You were tiptoeing to grab the tea boxes, letting the curves of your butt exposed. This was no good. No good at all. He was glad the pillow was covering him but how much would it last ? He couldn’t stay like this forever. He had to jerk himself off or he would paint his underwear real soon. « Earl Grey, please ». You put two cups of water into the microwave and went back next to your friend. He thought you would stay in the kitchen while he would quickly disappear into your bathroom but you didn’t. He closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking about your body, about how much he wanted to fuck you right now. 
Getting yourself comfortable, you grabbed the remote to look through Netflix’s catalog in search of the movie you could watch and put your legs over Chan’s lap. When you did so, you felt your friend lightly jump. You looked at him. His eyebrows were frowned and he seemed in a sort of distress. « Channie, you’re okay ? » you were worried about him. His face was pretty red and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. « Yea, why would I not be ? » replied the man with a forced smile. You didn’t fall for his masquerade. « Stop this. You’re my best friend and I know when you’re not feeling great. » you came closer, your face few inches away from his as you put your hand on his forehead. He didn’t seem to have a fever but his skin was a bit moist. He gulped at the proximity. He needed to leave this room, right now. « My stomach hurts a little, that’s all. Maybe, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. » You nodded and grabbed the pillow covering him. « Sure. I’m sorry I put my legs on you. It must have hurt. » you said but his hand had grabbed the cushion as well. You tugged on it harder but your friend was resisting. He seemed all serious. « Don’t. » he pleaded. You came closer to use your full force on the pillow, distracting Chan long enough for you to remove it. « Why are you being so stub— » you didn’t finish your sentence, your eyes travelling from your best friend’s crotch to his face. 
He just wanted to disappear right now and your reaction didn’t help. « Are… are you actually hard ? » you uttered. Fuck. You didn’t mean to say those words out loud but you were so surprised. Surprised, yes, but in a good way. The black haired boy, decided it was time for him to leave, you would talk about it later and brush it off. Just like that, it would turn into one of your inside joke and you would probably tease him about it for a long time. Standing up, he took his sweater but you grabbed his wrist. « How ? » you asked. « Y/N please… This is already really embarrassing… » Chan whined. He glanced at you but you weren’t disgusted or mocking him as he would expect, you seemed rather needy. The butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. Was he getting high hopes for nothing ? As if you heard his thoughts, you asked him to sit down again. He visibly hesitated but complied to your demand. With a sudden adrenaline rush, you straddled his lap and put your hands on his shoulders. Your core was so close from his bulge that the fabric of your shorts was brushing on it. Chan was frozen, not knowing if he was dreaming or no. 
« You don’t need to be embarrassed around me. I can help you. » you said faintly. The man was dumbfounded and he felt like his heart was about to burst. He wanted to protect your friendship badly but seeing you being so genuine on top of him made him loose his mind. « Please. » he breathed out, his hands carefully traveling to meet your waist. You set your eyes on him, looking at his features. His brows, his soft brown eyes, his beautiful kissable lips… You cupped his face and softly closed the gap between you. As soon as your lips touched his, you could feel his hands grasping your waist tighter, making you fully sit on his crotch, his moan being muffled by your kiss. « Fuck… » he groaned, « I’m sorry, I didn’t… » he stopped to catch his breath as you slowly started to grind down on him. « Hmm ? » you hummed. How was he supposed to function if you were pushing him into his limits. « Y/N, you’re already driving me crazy. Don’t make things worse. » he inhaled. You gave him another light thrust, the heat in the pit of your stomach dangerously increasing. « Is this not helping ? » you asked with a mischievous smile blooming on your face. You were playing with him and he kinda loved the sight of it. « I don’t want to cum in my pants but into you. » he bluntly replied. A small gasp escaped your lips at his words, his hips lifting up towards you. 
«  What are you waiting for then ? » you whispered to his ear. « Shut up » he chuckled. Placing himself more comfortably, he brought your body closer to him, your bodies meeting each other in a sensual rhythm, your hands on his toned chest. 
Chan was surely gorgeous but little did you expect to get dripping wet just by rubbing yourself on him, still being fully clothed. A sigh escaped his lips once again, his hands sliding to your hips to make you grind harder on him, making it almost painful. « You just looked so good earlier. » he pressed his lips on your neck, « Wearing my shirt as if you were already mine ». You tugged on his curls, making his head fall back. 
« And you got hard just with that ? » you raised a brow, your free hand reaching for his zipper. « You’re not wearing underwear, I saw it when… » another groan as you were feeling his length. It trembled softly. « When you were doing my nails. »
You felt your cheeks getting red. « That’s unfair ! You already saw everything ! » you pouted between wet kisses. He laughed at your behavior while your hands were busy unbuckling his belt. « You can see everything too ». Resting on the back of the couch, he let you unzip his pants. His dick was thick and trapped behind his black boxer. You seized the hem of it, finally relieving the painful member glittering with precum. Chan sighed loudly. From the way his lips were a bright pink or the veins of his hands and lower abdomen were popping, you could say that the view was so breathtaking it had you squeezing your thighs together. Your friend didn’t miss that and started to softly pump himself. « Sinful » you thought, trapping your lower lip between your teeth, hands resting on his lap. You could feel the electricity running through your veins at the way he was staring down at you while jerking himself off. You wanted to feel him deep inside. 
With a breath, you removed your shirt and started to lower your shorts but he stopped you. « No. They stay on while we fuck. » he almost growled those words, making your clit throb. « You can be so bossy sometimes » you shook your head with a smile. He hummed, kissing you with passion, biting your lip, sucking on your tongue. « I always knew you were a good kisser » you muttered. « Of course, I am. Never doubt of it again. » he replied with a smug voice. He started to lower his kisses, going down your neck, your collarbones, until his lips were attached to your nipple. 
You ran your hands through his locks, gripping it and he loved the small pain coming from it. You focused your gaze on his face as you started to hump on him again, searching for something to satisfy yourself, watching his reaction. And he didn’t disappoint, more muffled sounds coming from his throat, making your breast vibrates. After a bit, he put an halt to your movements. « It burns a little. » he sheepishly said. 
« Oh, I’m sorry! » he stopped you from leaving his lap, « It’s okay Y/N, we just need to put this to the side, hmm ? ». His look was eager, his hand waiting for your approval to move your shorts. You quickly nodded. With a grin, he put them aside, leaving enough place for him to touch your sensitive spot easily. « Gosh! You’re so wet that you even stained your shorts » he whispered, amazed. « Don’t say it out loud and do something for it! » you grumbled. What a pleasure it was when you felt his slim fingers sliding down your folds. He never thought this would happen, yet, here you were moaning on his hand. His dick twitched dangerously, some cum escaping at the sight of it. Your hips were unconsciously following his touch, steady and variating the pressure on his palm. When a first digit entered your pussy, you moaned into his shoulder, thighs lightly shaking. « Chan, fuck… ». It felt so good, just by the way he added one more finger, how he made them curl inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit, touching all the good parts of your core. 
« Ch-Chan, can I touch you ? » you panted. You wanted to share your pleasure. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to let you do that, he was already too close. However, he wanted to see how your soft hand would wrap around his shaft. Staring into your eyes, he nodded. He removed his digits for you to concentrate on him, which became rather difficult when he put his fingers into his mouth, tasting you. He licked every single drop of it as if you were made of honey. « You’re so hot… » you sighed. « And you taste so good. »
You wrapped your hand at the base of his cock, giving it few strokes. A loud whimper escaped his throat. You kept going, your thumb rubbing the top of it, precum making it slippery. Yea, it wasn’t a good idea to let you masturbate him. « Y/N I’m gonna- » he chocked. He tried hard to hold back his climax, in vain. After few minutes, his seed was all over your hand. « Wow, you truly were on the edge » you teased him. He pouted. « Can you blame me ? I've been horny for more than an hour... » 
He hooked your shorts further to the side. « But don’t think I can’t handle a second round, baby ». His voice was low and you got flustered by the pet name. He had never called you like that. « Make it wet for me, would you ? » he asked with an unsteady breath, bringing your hips down. Finally, your pussy was getting some attention, rubbing yourself on his length was making you lightheaded. You could feel Chan getting hard again under you, not wasting any time. Being skin to skin was even more appealing. You whined at the sensation, begging him to stop. 
« What did you say ? » he mused, lifting your chin with one of his hand so you could look at him. « Stop, please » you cried. He chuckled, « And I was the one being on edge ? ». You frowned but your hips kept moving uncontrollably. You could feel the heat between your legs increasing and, when your mouth started to form an O, your friend rolled away from you. Leaving you clenching around nothing, aching. 
« W-what ? » 
« You have to come around me, Y/N. » he tenderly hugged you, grabbing your thighs to lay you down on the couch. Now towering you, he removed his shirt, letting you admire his toned torso and perfect abs before he got rid of the last pieces of fabric covering his body. You touched his lower abdomen, sliding down his thighs, mesmerized. He couldn't help but smile and kiss your forehead, putting both his forearms around your head, caging you. « Ready ? » he asked, a tint of impatience in his voice. « Yes ». 
Positioning himself at your entrance, Chan started to push into you. You needed to get accustomed to the stretch yet, it felt already delectable. And the more he thrusted into you, the more you could feel your folds spreading for him. The growl he let out was the loudest you had heard until then. He was so vocal and it aroused you like crazy. You always had a sweet spot for men who were not afraid to let their partner know how much they felt good. « Fuck Y/N… you… » Chan blabbered. « Hmm ? » you hummed, unable to make an intelligible sentence. « It’s like you were made for my cock. » he panted. He was completely inside of you now, slamming his hips back and forth against your pelvis. His moans were filling the room and you inevitably joined him into his chorus. You were completely wrecking him, making you both see stars as a second wave of pleasure was growing. « Y/N, you’re… doing so well… taking me… all— ». Your name fell like a mantra out of his lips as he was marking his love into your skin. The praise electrified all your senses, making you unintentionally clench around him. « For fuck sake » he hissed. « Channie… I can’t—».
« Just a little more, baby… I promise. » he kissed you, your tongues twirling, your nails scratching the tender skin of his back. Wanting more, you lifted your hips up to meet his, the new angle giving him a full access to repeatedly hit your G spot. « Oh my god » you panted. Chan couldn’t even speak anymore. Your walls were getting tighter and tighter on him, making it difficult to move. He placed sloppy kisses, on your forehead, your nose, your neck, never stopping to compliment you. Tensed and overwhelmed, his pace was getting slower, creating something new after all that frenzy. That’s when you felt it, rushing through your veins. Unable to resist it, you let your orgasm take over you, shaking between Chan’s arms as he was reaching his own climax, painting your walls. He fell onto you, his head resting on your chest as you were softly caressing his curls. « Wow. » he laughed and you joined him. « That was intense » you added. He hummed, breathing the scent of your skin mixed to his own. « Was it helpful ? » 
He raised himself high enough to face you. « You know you’re a brat, right ? ». You smirked, coming closer to his face, his eyes shining in anticipation. « Maybe ». Rolling his eyes, he fell back down on you to kiss you more.
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4pfsukuna · 2 months
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Kings get jealous too
Yall voted and honestly the thought of Jealous!sukuna was tooooo good to not write. Reader is black (happy black history month btw). Sukuna does not like to share… or have anyone touch whats his why would a king have to?
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The vibrations of my phone for the 3rd time was finally begining to annoy me so with eyes still closed i reach around the bed only to slap something warm and firm.
“Still here sweetheart” i hear the raspy voice of sukuna i dont need to look at him to know hes smirking and my eyes shoot open making direct eye contact.
Finally reaching for my phone hoping to get some sort of clarity i see 100 missed calls, 43 text messages, 17 instagram post. The safest option was to go through my messages as i try to gain memory of why this idiot was in bed next to me.
“Oh sweetheart do you not remember?” He chides cockily and i sit up seeing a picture that nearly killed me. My tongue out… against Sukunas sternum in a secluded corner of the club with him smirking devilishly at me and the next of him carrying me out his hands firm on my ass.
The club.
The club!
Housing yuji had been no problem at all, owing a favor to Gojo i was glad when this was all he needed. Yuji itadori was sweet kind always cleaned after himself and was a genuine pleasure to have around even cooking when away on missions.
The issue? The fact that he was a vessel for a 1000 year old king of curses that was a complete pain in the ass who gets a thrill out of you especially finding out i was kazumi Honoka and had i not resented my family could easily match Gojo or top him . The Honoka clan known for the most powerful flame and fire weilding sorcerers every few generations, squeaky clean image rich and arrogant just as the other powerful clans.
“Sukuna the only reason your not dead is because i havent found a way to exercise you from yuji i know for a fact i could kill you” i seethe only to be met with silence. I hated being ignored and he would do it on purpose as if his pathetic ass being housed by a child was better than me. Growling i pull a dagger from my waist band and swing it at Yuji necks who looks at me in fear but Sukunas mouth breaks through his neck biting the dager making it crumble into a million pieces as if it was nothing more than a cracker.
“You dont even know how to fully weild your cursed energy sweetheart, i could have you dead in 10 seconds and with the remaining 9 dance over your corpse” his mouth cackles from the side of Yujis neck.
This was a typical tuesday morning for us.
“Yet you’re only a pathetic excuse of what you used to be. King of curses yet you’ve been trapped inside of yuji for years how lame” i degrade a sneer on my face as i adjust my shirt.
“I— should we do something about this” Megumi ask from next to Nobara on the couch who looks concered and ready to break us up but not sure how plates of breakfast getting cold. It wasnt even 11am yet.
“No. This is a typical Tuesday it’s kind of like foreplay for them. Usually she ignores him or teases back unless she had a difficult mission” Yuji informs them before shoving another pancake in his mouth and of course he noticed the differences in our interactions i was the only one Sukuna really interacted with anyway.
“How was it?” Nobara looks at me and i sigh. I nearly died because i lost my footing tripping over my own tube of fenty lip gloss, how could i ever admit that.
“Pffft, struggling with a puny curse yet you think you could take me on? You make me laugh, brat” and thats what makes me lose it and ignite the fire flames on my hands my eyes matching as i do cause a groan from Yuji.
“I havent even finished breakfast yet can i atlea—“
I cut him off.
“Release him” i fume cracking my knucles making the flames bigger my breakfast completely forgotten about.
“Yeah release me brat so i can finally have my moment with her” he snaps back at yuji and this time I smirk the fire on my hands dulling.
“If thats what you wanted that’s all you had to say, it’s childish to be mean to a girl you like. Unfortunately you’re not my type” i grin patting Yuji cheek where Sukunas mouth was only to feel his sharp teeth nip at my hand.
“Youre nothing like the women i had keeping my bed warm just like you’re silly little technique you wouldnt know what to do with me” he chides back the two on the couch getting whiplash from how fast our conversation changes and how quick our comebacks are for another.
“See, foreplay” Yuji utters to them as he finishes his plate of pancakes satisfied with his belly being full leaning back on his seat.
“Well we were going to celebrate you getting back and figure you could use a night out since returning from your mission, but it looks like you definitely need it” Megumi speaks up motioning between myself and Yuji.
————————————————————-
Giggling with Nobara as we take a 6th shot of casamigos to see who would tap out first watching a woman try to flirt with  Megumi who's completely oblivious or just awkward at flirting.
“What's the deal with you and Sukuna? Girl to girl like i didn't even know he spoke unless he had full control” she prys bumping my shoulder which i roll my eyes at.  “Please Yuji told me how he always has an eye on you, always ask about you when you're not around and flirts with you relentlessly”
“He also pesters me” i add sipping the lemon drop the bartender placed infront of us mentioning it was on the house.
“Anything to keep your attention” she smirks while taking another shot. “It’s why he’s taken over Yuji yet instead of burning the entire world down he’s watching you”.
And he is, black tattoos adorned his body as he sits on the sofa eyes piercing through the crowd focused directly on me. Maybe it was the curiosity maybe it was the alcohol but i was tempted to test her theory. 
Swiping another coat of lipgloss over my lips and adjusting my shirt so my boobs were perked up with a quick hair fluff i turn to the guy at the end of the bar Whos been covering our tab for drinks.
“Hello handsome” i grin taking the stool next to him watching the instant lust build in his eyes. I could still
Feel his eyes on me and its only right to give him a show.
The man on the stool looks over at me, double taking before adjusting his posture to give me his full attention.
“My my tonight must be my lucky night an angel like you gracing me with your presence” he praises the strong smell of alcohol on his breath as he twirls one of my dark curls around his finger releasing it with a spring.
“Move” and Sukunas glare is deadly biceps rippling under the club light his shirt long gone.
“Hey pal” the man says setting a hand on Sukunas shoulder unaware of just what was about to happen and i couldnt even warn him my eyes never left the king of curses. 
Without breaking eye contact he grabs the mans hand crushing it the sound of bones crushing couldn’t be hidden by the loud music but i still could only focus on sukuna.
“Wipe the smug look off your face” he grumbles stepping closer the heat of his body rolling off onto me.
“Lord Sukuna, king of curses the almighty and powerful isnt… jealous?” I giggle watching as he takes the shot left behind by the man scowling as he takes the shot next to it as well.
“Dont humor me, he was weak and undeserving. Plus if something happened to you Yuji would never shut up” he… rambles? Oh he was so jealous. Fire literally comes out of my hand unless that man controlled water and in copious amount what harm would he truly bring me.
 “So if i were to go home with him and sleep with him you wouldnt be jealous in the slightest? And i mean hours of letting him have his way with me—“ to which he scoffs rolling his eyes in disgust.
Sukuna wasnt a man of many words more so action so i could talk all i wanted but the best reaction id get was from action. And i knew just how to pull it from him.
“Not even if i did this?” I ask but before he has a chance i bend down coming eye level with his abdomen and drag my tongue from the begining of the black mark to where it ends on his chest smirking when i come eye level with him watching as something dark ignites in his eyes.
___________________________________
When we get home theres not a surface left untouched that he doesnt have me against. Pressing me into the front door as he bites down my neck licking and sucking over my pulse.
“Suk—mmmm” the moan comes out of me as he tugs on my earlobe with his mouth his hands feeling like hot fire on my body. He begins to pull me further in but i pull back giggling at his look of dissatisfaction. 
“I gotta take m’shoes off” im sure i slur my words slightly only to be picked up and placed on the top of the black velvet couch my feet on the seat cushion giving him easier access. Im shocked by how gentle he is untying the straps from around my calfs before he gets frustrated ripping them off.
“SUKUNA!” I yell watching the coy smirk on his face and he leaves a kiss on my calf.
“Whaaaat?” Before another kiss is placed on my knee followed by my inner thigh and right when i think hes going to go under my skirt he switches to my other leg the warmth spreading in my core and i wanted him to stop teasing. 
“Sukuna” i groan but it instead comes out as a sigh feeling his thumbs massage into my inner thigh extremely close to my core as i feel his breath over my underwear.
“Tell me.” He grunts against my core the vibrations shaking my whole insides and maybe my body was just sensitive to him because i could definitely cum just like that. “Tell me what i want”
And hes placing kisses over my pussy through my underwear moaning and something about him wanting me so bad he would kiss me through my underwear turned me on even more. I’m sure he could tell because its not long before his tongue is poking at the sides making me shiver.
“Give me what i want” i counter to prideful to beg alcohol be damned the arrogant grin on his face doesnt budge as he pulls me down so im on the seat easily throwing my legs over his shoulders. Long fingers brush my wet folds as he hooks his finger in my underwear, a lewd comment about me being so wet for him my thongs were clinging to it in a way his tongue would replace.
And hes not lying, he places one long lick from my hole all the way up to my clit, a light swirl around before placing a peck and I feel electric. My head luls back as he uses two fingers to spread my lips open giving easier access to my clit which he sucks kisses licks and moans against.
“Fuck” he groans against it placing a wide open mouth tongue kiss on my pussy and i arch into him? Away? Im not sure my eyes slam shut when i realize hes kissing my pussy the same way he was kissing me against the door and the pure lewdness of his mouth being full of me. The wet smacking sounds were being drowned out by my moans and cries of his name and with a particular flick of his tongue on my clit i launch forward squeezing my thighs around his head which seems to entertain more than bother him.
“Eyes on me” he moans against me tapping my thighs twice and i couldnt even remember shutting them. His lips apply more pressure as my hands get lost in his hair holding him in place which seems to egg him on his motions becoming filthier with every flick of his tongue.
He pushes me back before his wide palms squeeze my thighs grunting as he continues his assault licking me in ways that would leave a mark on my mind before tongue-fucking me which is what sends me into the spiral of cuming for the first time. (And embarassingly fast)
“So delicious” he murmurs licking up every drop and i can feel my heart pounding in my ears as i try to catch my breath. It took him less than five minutes to have me in a puddle, figuratively and literally and my brain scrambled. 
Pulling me forward by my chin he places an aggressive kiss on my lips leaving me dizzy as i taste myself on his lips until he quickly pulls back standing up beckoning me to follow him.
“We need to get you to bed” he speaks and i miss the taunt in his voice taking it as being scolded instead which makes me stop the cold of the hallway floor settling on the pads of my feet.
“What?!” I snap and he raises a brow facing me the taunt evident on his face.
“Unless you want something from me, tell me sweetheart” And it’s nothing more than an attempt to get me to beg but i was entirely not going to. I would never, no matter how mad i wanted him to rearrange my insides.
“No?” He ask cupping my jaw roughly his thumb grazing my bottom lip rubbing the juices on my lip— the moment he fucks up.
Using my tongue to wrap it arround his thumb before sucking it into my mouth watching the desire come full force in his eyes. I release it with a small pop sound a string of saliva connecting his finger to my lip his eyes never moving from it.
“I mean i know you like when i lick your marks up your chest but what about down?” I whisper before my tongue drags down the black lines down to the waist band of the pants pulling them down watching his dick spring out yet the weight, length and girth stops it from springing completely against his abdomen. 
My mouth waters at the sight and i feel myself sink down to my knees keeping eye contact wrapping my acrylic fingers around it. Theres a drip of precum as i slowly begin to pump that i chase with my thumb smearing it against the tip.
Removed from my trance i feel his large hand cup my jaw roughly and the other replace my hand over his length giving a few slow pumps so i eagerly stick out my tongue knowing exactly what he wants to do.  He taps it on my tongue twice before slowly pushing it in my mouth keeping direct eye contact the whole time listening to the way his breath stops as he hits the back of my throat. He feels heavy in my mouth in the most delicious way causing me to moan and give a slight suck.
Its the soft groan that he makes that encourages me to take control pulling back slighty before pushing him all the way down my throat one hand at the base making a twisting motion while the other massages his balls this time earning a “fuck baby” and i almost tease him about it but my mouth was… full.
Pulling back once more for air i swirl my tongue around the tip collecting every drop of precum before licking my way down to his balls and taking them in my mouth. His leg twitches and his eyes are on me with a blown eyed gaze as i swish them around my mouth sending him a wink the smirk coming back.
“Youre such a— fuck… brat taking my dick like this in the…” he stops for a second going to reach for my hair and i almost send a glare until i realize hes just moving it off my shoulders. Hollowing my cheeks and sucking hes brought back to his words. “In the hallway, so hungry for me arent you” he growls 
Moving my mouth back onto his length taking him 4 more times down my throat my hand replacing where my mouth previously was before continuing a bobbing motion. The pace of my bobbing matching the pace of my hand twisting before his hands start caressing my cheeks using it as leverage.
“Such a good girl” he begins stuttering eyes rolling back head falling against the wall. His hips began moving and im not even sure he realizes it and hes fucking my face at a quick pace muttering words in a language that i couldnt identify— maybe something prehistoric.
“Throat so.. mmf… so good, such a good brat. FUCk” he growls when i gag but doesnt stop for a second just continues his rambling. “My brat, youre taking every inch so fucking… so fucking” he holds my head in place as if hes trying not to cum to quick.
Shit thats exactly what hes doing!
Tapping his thigh to gain his attention, the same way he did to me I internally smirk the moment his eyes meet mine and I know exactly what kind of thing would make him release. Slowly pushing down until my nose hits his pelvis as I pull back I give him the longest blink I can exaggerate without looking crazy letting the tears prick my eyes without falling giving the base of his dick and balls a slight squeeze moaning the entire time.
“You fucking demon— nnghhhh”he moans as ropes of his cum shoot down my throat his hips twitching as he holds me in place trying to keep his eyes on me. after hes satisfied everydrop is in my mouth not a single one gone to waste He finally lets my face go before im being pulled up by the front of my shirt. His lips are on mine as hes groping me like my clothes dont exist his hands running all over my body pulling me in closer. 
His tongue swirls in my mouth and its like a mix of both of us before i playfully bite down on his bottom lip feeling him harden against my hip making me grin. He likes it rough i could be as rough as i wanted and hed probably just love it even more.
My legs wrap around his waist the moment he picks me up walking the rest of the way to my room and placing me on the bed pulling me shirt over my head and to inpatient for my skirt and underwear he rips them off. Climbing over me he places a few teasing bites up my neck marking up what hadn't already been marked before pulling back slightly to line himself up with my entrance.
I assume hes going to tease but the squelch and sudden burn of him pushing in makes the corner of my eyes prick with tears only brought back by the sounds of his grunts.
“And you fucking thought id let you go hone with another man and hed have this view of you cock drunk already and all ive done was slide halfway in” he chuckles darkly and i look at where we are connected.
HALFWAY?
“Eyes on me brat” and my leg is thrown over his shoulder before he leans forward giving me a bruising thrust. Well clearly i bit off more than i could chew. His thrust are fast and heavy but not painful. He rolls his hips and my hands fly up to his chest.
Hold on what was this. He sends a handful more thrust just like that with the same force… no not force pressure and i can feel my mouth watering. These werent the quick hard and fast strokes i was expecting. Sure they were rough but—
His large hand throws my other leg over his shoulder pulling a high pitched moan from me and he was entirely to deep inside of me. Its a particular thrust that hits a spot deep inside of me causing my eyes to cross and i nearly push him off of me had it not been for our position.
“Ahhhh looks like i found that sweet spot” he taunts thrusting into it again and i bite my bottom lip trying to hold in the moans. “Cute attempt” and before i could ask what he means he leans forward so were chest to chest and if he wasnt deep before he definitely was now.
“Fuck” he growls against my ear continuing his assault my eyes only catching the way every muscle ripples in his back. He was making his mark and not just sucking and biting but engraving his self in my memory. Every thrust every roll of his hips its like he was trying to make sure i wouldnt forget drunk or sober. Its slight caresses that turn to grips, hip rolls that turn to strong thrust that rattle my whole body bites thats followed by his tongue flicking over them.
The orgasm begins to build and i feel the wetness already sliding down making him grunt picking up the pace. 
“S-sukuna!” It rocks through me before i have time to warn him but he doesnt stop just continues to fuck me through it his chuckles a distant thought it my head.
“You were so jealous” i mutter through heavy pants the only thought i could hold onto before he's pulling out and i'm flipped onto my stomach his length pushed back in this time his hand snaking under me to play with my clit his strokes different this time. 
His fingers are going fast yet his strokes are slow are taunting his balls slapping against me the contrast sends me into another orgasm my brain telling me to fight back. 
“The next time you think IM jealous of another man some puny mortal remember i can make you cum in 30 seconds” he grunts in my ear and i know theres a glare on his face. But he doesnt stop he alternates the pace of his fingers and thrust making me moan out trying to hold back long forgotten.
“You look so delicious” he moans and the sound has my toes curling. He drops half of his weight on me as his other hand comes around grabbing my neck lifting me up so I can see our reflections in the mirror. His maroon eyes were dark and getting darker with lust as we made eye contact through the mirror and for a second my mind turns to mush the only thought was how good he felt with every thrust and pinch of my clit.
“Look at you… fuck falling apart under me” he grunts a smile building on his lips before he licks them gripping tighter on my neck. “You look so perfect taking my cock like this. Getting so… youre making such a mess on me. Youre pussy is so tight and warm and the way youre clenching when i talk… shit. You must like my voice” his grin grows and i look away but the way i clench around him gives me away im sure.
His hand moves from my clit leaving three stinging SMACKS. His grip grows tighter on my throat forcing me to look at him again in the mirror, his hand squeezing over my cheeks.
“Sukuna” i snap or try to but it only comes out as a stuttering moan which satisfies him. 
“Don't look away” he growls and when hes sure im not going to try again he places his hand back on my clit.
“Im not jealous,” he tries to prove his point but it was lost on me i didnt even care i was in complete bliss.
“I can fuck you better than him. He was just going to turn into a boy and jackrabbit you. He wouldnt know what to do with all the woman you are. Me…JEALOUS? No im leaving my mark youre going to remember every touch, lick, bite, shit and thrust. Thats real punishment. Ruining you for every man after me. They couldnt fuck you like this” he rants a deranged look in his eyes before his speed increases and of course.
He wasnt some 20 something year old guy he was a 1000 year old curse with years of experience in torture. Brute force was a mere quick thing and nothing about this was quick.
“Sukuna im going to…” i whine kicking my legs feeling the pressure build up and it was becoming to much for me. I try to thrust back to push him off but that sinister smile grows the widest ive ever seen and instead he pulls me to my knees by my hip. It instead becomes leverage as he uses his other hand to push my back down creating an arch as his pace comes to the fastest its been all night finally pushing in all the way the tip hitting the spot that made my eyes cross again.
“Oh… OH” he chuckles as he watches my fist curling in the blankets the moans no longer quiet but loud screams im sure my neighbors would complain about tomorrow but i couldnt care. 
“Feels good doesnt it, i should make you beg to cum, i should edge you. I shouldnt even.. fuck.. youre lucky youre so pretty i shouldnt even let you cum for even entertaining him. Were you trying to piss me off?” He growls but it all falls on deaf ears. My own shrieks of pleasure are the only thing i can register.
“But since youre here… under me and that stunt you pulled? At that silly little club? Ill be nice just this once brat.” He moans his thrust becoming sloppy as if the thought of me licking him turns him on. 
“Cum for me” he pinches my clit sending me into my demise the hot ropes of cum from him shooting inside of me as his grunts get louder while he rides out our orgasms. 
“Good girl” is the last thing i hear before darkness takes over.
_________________________
Sukuna isnt prepared to glance at the clock at 4:37am. Sure he wasnt fully sleep but being prepared for the brown skinned fire sorceress to wake him up 10 minutes ago for another round was the last thing he expected.
Sukuna loved every second of it. She wasnt like past women who wanted to made sure they just pleased him oh no she wanted to conquer him.  find every kink, every sensitive spot any twist of her hips or clutching of his core that made him putty for her and exploit it. Biting him, sucking on his neck, hair pulls and even slight chocking— ok it was nothing slight about it at all, even when she pins his arms above his head he was losing his senses because everything was her.
She had the audacity to try this and look so fucking good doing it. It was no longer him fucking her but dhe was fucking him and damn did it feel good. She was marking him every inch of his body stating her claim and he nearly felt pride, his brat, fuck did she know how to get him going. So prideful she wouldnt even cum again until he did even if that means he did have to snake one of his hand down to pinch her clit watching her tears come down her face as she fights so strongly.
Sukunas proud and for a moments forget this isnt his body just a mere vessel but hes so proud of her he wants to drop his whole load and really claim her as his own but things are a bit complicated right now. But hes so prpud of her being so strong taking every inch and seeing the lengths of her stubotness but fuck does he want her to cum. He needs to feel the way she cums arounds him and watch as the cream builds up at where their bodies meet, he needs to see that pure look of bliss and feel the desperation as her body clings to his. But he can talk her through it.
“H-hey sweetheart, look at me” he growls angry she had him stuttering and with a sharp thrust upward to meet hers she whines looking down at him.
“What?! Y-youre —-mmmm fuck… youre fucking up my pace” she seeethes through clutch teeth pulling roughly on the hair at the nape of his neck his moans unable to be hid at the pure pleasure.
“Sorry sweetheart” he falsely apologized repeating the thrist again feeling her clench. “Just wanna say youre doing so good, taking me dick so good just like you should” he sits up watching as she adjust using his shoulders for leverage.
“Listen to it… every sound, squelch— youre gripping me soooo tight. I could fuck you all night, loose myself in it. Its so wet and warm and your taking every inch like a good brat for me, my brat” he breathes in her ear before bringing her jaw so theyre eye to eye once more.
“I cant wait to watch you cum for me again, make a mess all over your dick.” He tells her watching as she tries to close her eyes and he sends another rough thrust forcing her eyes back open.
“You have 5 seconds to give it all to me” he tells her darkly left hand going to her clit as a threat not rubbing or moving just pressing into her.
“4” and she presses her forehead against his
“3” he smirks as her hips become erattic the whimpers increasing from her mouth.
“Sukuna!” She snaps digging her nails into his back holding on tighter to him. He grins kissing the side of her head thumb not moving from her clit but pressing harder.
“2” and the wet sounds increase  letting him know he was more than capable of talking her… counting her through it.
“I hate you” she moans releasing all over him sending him into an orgasm as well thrusting his hips so they can both ride it through only stopping when he feels her body slump against his.
“I hate you so much” she speaks through ragged breaths as he leans back never pulling out and he chuckles kissing her head again pushing her hair out of her face.
_____________________________________
“So youre telling me…” i trail off completely speachless when all the memories from last night come back and i can feel everywhere he touched like it was burned into my skin.
His arms rest behind his head the holds that cocky smirk and lazy look in his eye as if i forgot his moans.
“You fucked me like that because you were jealous?” I giggle once more watching as his glare comes back
338 notes · View notes
greenunoreversecard · 2 months
Note
Plsss do another part to the fic ‘A koala and it’s tree’ the concept is so cool!!
a/n:I had at least half written and then my phone fucking deleted the draft I want to cry so hard I'm in mourning. Also sorry it Took me a minute to comr up eitheir a idea for the plot of it
Teaching a old Dog new tricks (task failed succesfully) ->Alastor x teen!platonic! Reader
(Pt.2 of a koala and its tree)
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You sigh, dragging yourself along behind Alastor and Rosie. You don't understand much of what their saying, as their speaking like it's the early 20th century. Which, to be fair, they are from then.
But you could barely understand a word being said, due to missing ao much previous knowledge about slang and terms and shit. And you were so bored and
What if-
Oh ho ho! Bingo!
A wonderful idea indeed.
---
You sigh loudly, feet hurting from all the walking you've done today and plop down on the couch next to Angel Dust, and alastor sits on a arm chair across from the both of you. You smirk, setting your plan into action. You make sure your loud enough for Alastor to hear you.
" did you see that new video? No Cap I'm going to be for real it's lowkey giving try hard you know like? I'm just being real like I really don't vib3, like girls not giving main character.. and like, Miss ma'am you are not slaying you are not giving it is not the vibe like, twas not a glow up but a glow down. But it is kinda sus how she treated Kim like, big yikes. Not loving the energy. And That outfit did not understand the assignment. It was basic and it sent me"
Angel looks at you wide eyed for a moment, you nudge him and side eye Alastor hoping he gets the cue. He does.
"I for real was just thinking that, like bitch be deadass with me you did not leave your house like that. But that tea was piping hot and bussing. And the fact Jennie had no rizz? Bitch please, you acting all that and ended up capping, highkey a flop."
"THATS WHAT IM SAYIN BITCH LIKE-"
You glance at Alastor, who's wide eyed and with a strained smile. If you could guess it would probably be a mix between strange curiosity and slight horror.
"I- pardon?"
You smirk. Mission accomplished.
---
A week later you sat Alastor down, explained some simpler slang words and terms to him.
He didn't didn't to get it, bit when he told angel "Bitches be slaying, queen" you think he got some of it, but not the way he was supposed you.
You almost coughed a lung up from the amount of laughing you did, and vowed from thst day forward you were never going to correct his usage if it meant funny shit like this happened again.
250 notes · View notes
macsimagines · 6 months
Note
The most wicked but potentially horrifically adorable idea just popped into my head…
Bonten!Mikey, Future!Kazutora, and Future!Draken waking up one night to find darling gone. They rush out just to find darling outside, clearly distressed, because they want to leave but genuinely can’t bring themselves to do it… That they’ll miss them…
Basically that sweet old Stockholm syndrome finally hitting, and hitting hard 🫢🫢🫢. How would they react to seeing that.
YUMMY YUMMY ANGST MY FAVORITE
TW:YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINOR DNI, KIDNAPPING, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, BABY TRAPPING, POSSIBLE MURDER, ABUSE MENTION
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Yandere!Bonten Manjiro Sano (AKA Mikey)
The fact that you were able to sneak out of his arms while he slept with you was shocking, but the fact that you actually managed to slip out had been a miracle.
He wakes up in a cold sweat, and the hammering in his heart never stops since you're not there to hold him and shoosh him after another nightmare.
Honest to god, he's about to fucking loose it when he can't find you in the bathroom. Then he's sprinting out the door, gun in hand ready to pistol whip you with it for even trying to pull this shit then he sees you.
Sitting on the steps to the hideout, knees pulled up to your chest just staring out into the freezing October night. Your nighty is a little damp from a passing drizzle and he has no idea how long you've just been sitting there, just that you haven't so much as blinked at him since he got to you.
For a split second he's worried you're not even breathing, but then he hears the small little mutters coming from you and something in him just tears at your words...
"I can't go he needs me. If I leave then he's all alone, I can't let him be alone, I can't go, what is he supposed to do without me, how can I-"
Mikey can't listen to another word just scoops you into his arms, you're too cold, baby. How could you do that to yourself, and takes you inside where he can keep you safe and warm. Maybe its better this way. You can be broken together.
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Yandere!Kazutora Hanemiya
He is so deluded that you're where you want to be that you leaving just isn't even a possibility for him. Not to say that he wasn't prepared for you to try it at first but after a half a year being his wife (prisoner) and you saying your first "I love you," to him a few nights back, he let himself get comfortable.
Then comes the night where he wakes up and you're not right next to him. His brain is surging and his heart is quaking in a new kind of fear he hasn't felt in years.
He's tearing the house apart screaming for you; "B-baby!? Time to come out now! I'm not havin' fun! Y/N WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?"
When that doesn't work, he's heading for the door, knife in hand. Honestly the adrenaline has him delirious and he's not even sure if the knife is for you when he finds you or for himself if he can't.
Kazutora almost trips on your hunched form, but there you are! Curled up into a ball on the steps. "Y/N?" voice hoarse from all the yelling, but so goddamn happy to see you.
The knife drops with a loud clang and he's embracing you too tight that it almost hurts. "Hey, Kazu," you say very plainly. You couldn't even make it past the steps as soon as you got out the door.
You couldn't move your legs to run up the road, not even when you heard him screaming and wrecking the house inside. You weren't even afraid of what would happy when he found you. Just numb.
Kazutora brings you in, ignoring the whirlwind mess, even stepping on broken glass just to get you inside, where he can keep you safe and locked.
You don't even flinch when he locks the collar onto your neck. "J-just to be safe. You understand, right baby?" And you nod. Because the sick thing is you really do.
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Yandere! Ken Ryuguji (AKA Draken)
You've been with him for years. Even before he took you. But about three years ago when you tried to go he made it so you never could.
But now was your chance, he'd become laxed, or maybe he had been too tired to keep up his usual routine, because he had forgotten to lock you in that night.
So Draken wakes up and you're not there. He's furious, how could he have forgotten to secure your chain before going to bed with you that night!?
He had just felt so relaxed and happy that day, but that was his own stupid fault. The reason he was so happy was because he had been careful, one fuck up and now you're gone.
He's running out of the house grabbing his keys when- he finds you. A bottle of his bourbon in your hands and you leaning against the side of the house taking swig after swig in the freezing night.
"Y/N," he hisses, almost like a question, because if you weren't going to leave then why the hell were you here?
"Tried to go," you tell him, words slurred, "Didn't make it very fuckin' far."
He stares at you for a moment, before finally asking; "Why not?" And then you turn to look at him although that look in your eyes kind of makes him feel like you can see though him, not at him.
Not breaking eye contact once you point up at your infant daughter's window. The child you didn't even want, the baby that for the first time since she was born, you actually had held that very day.
"Don't even fuckin' like that brat," you hiss at him, but god only know why you couldn't bear to leave her with him, "...I know." he'll say, reaching for the glass to have a drink of his own.
But you loved her enough to stay. Just like he knew you would.
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