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#don't mind me i just watched the movie yesterday
errruvande · 2 years
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i have a weak knees for my beloved adorable clown Jacques Paganel
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oldtvandcomics · 3 months
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Man, I love superheroes. It's like soap opera, but BETTER. You still get all the fun relationship drama, and then it will occasionally cut to Professor X and Magneto being chased around by dinosaurs.
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the-acid-pear · 2 years
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okay, plan for tomorrow: watch willy's wonderland AND watch spiderman 1. I'm going to rewatch that trilogy, i need to see my fucked up and evil malewife.
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tonyspank · 7 months
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WH0 R U 2???
Summary: Tara wakes up at her attractive Professor’s home.
Warnings: 18+ smut, g!p reader (literally think r is a service top??? idk? sorry for the dom’s & subs 😭)
A/N: pt.3 will not but smutty but bloody (there are different ghostfaces who r y’all suspecting?) also the smut scene was inspired by my b-day gift @wol-fica i love u
part 1
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Tara woke up with the world's biggest headache. When she sat up in the random bed she had just awakened in, she realized she was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were white, with some paintings here and there, and the room was filled with a faint scent of lavender.
Tara left the bed, her head pounding with each step she took. She stumbled towards the door, trying to remember how she ended up in this strange place.
As she makes her way down the hallway, coffee begins to fill her nostrils. She follows the scent and finds herself in a cozy kitchen, where a pot of freshly brewed coffee sits on the counter. "You're awake, a voice says from behind her.
Startled, Tara turns around to see her professor, and suddenly, all of her memories rush back to her.
"Leaving already?" Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow. Tara hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She just nods, "Yeah, my... my rides here." Frankie keeps his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Tara can feel the weight of his scrutiny, making her even more uncomfortable.
"Oh damn, well, let me walk you out." Frankie offers, breaking the silence. Tara's heart races as they make their way towards the exit, unsure of what's going on. It was obvious Frankie wanted to get into her pants; he'd been following her the entire night.
You notice Tara at the exit, looking slightly flustered and uneasy. You quickly exit your car and walk to her. "You're her ride?" A brown-haired boy asks you.
"Yeah, I'm her ride," you confirm, giving the boy a curious look. The brown-haired boy gives you a skeptical look before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to approach Tara. As you reach her side, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her discomfort.
Tara's eyes drop to your attire, taking in your sleepwear. A wife-beater and black boxers that matched your black Nike socks. You notice this, "Sorry, I just woke up about five minutes ago."
"All good...Professor." Tara smiles. You shake your head, "Y/N is just fine. You're in my kitchen, after all. No need for formalities." Tara blushes and nods, "Right, sorry. Y/N it is then."
You chuckle softly, "No need to apologize, Tara. Can I offer you some coffee?" Tara gratefully accepts the offer, "I could definitely use a cup. Thank you, Y/N." She takes a seat at the kitchen table as you start pouring a fresh cup of coffee.
"Do you need me to drop you off?" Tara tries to take a sip of her coffee, but it's too hot, causing her to wince in pain spilling a bit on her hand. "Shit! That's hot!" Tara exclaims, quickly pulling her hand away from the cup. You rush to grab a napkin, softly grasping her hand and gently wiping away the spilled coffee.
"But, um, yeah, I'd love a ride if you don't mind," Tara mutters, ignoring the fluttering of her heart as you touch her hand. She tries to hide her blush by taking a deep breath and looking away, but the warmth of your touch lingers.
"Of course." Your phone begins ringing, interrupting the moment. You quickly apologize and grab your phone from the kitchen counter. You answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. A deep voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello, Y/N." You scratch your head, trying to place the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place it.
The voice clears its throat, and your ear is soon filled with Laura's laugh. "Haven't you watched Stab?"
"Ohhh! Yeah, I just did yesterday." You chuckle, realizing that the deep voice was an imitation of a character from the movie. "How's your mom? She doing better?"
Laura's laughter subsides as she replies, "She's slowly recovering, thanks for asking. The doctors say she should be back on her feet in a few weeks." You feel relieved to hear the positive update about Laura's mom and express your well wishes for her continued recovery.
"Anywho! I was just calling because I wanted to know how your first lecture was. Did everyone behave?"
You chuckle and respond, "Well, it was definitely an interesting experience. The students were well-behaved, and I was actually surprised by their level of engagement. It seems like they're all eager to learn and participate in class discussions."
Laura hums over the phone, "Are you sure you're talking about my students?" You laugh and say, "Seriously. They were great." Laura pauses for a moment before replying, "That's good...I have to go now, take care, Y/N."
You bid Laura farewell and promise to keep her updated on any future classroom developments. Tara speaks up when you set down your phone, "Was that Professor Crane?" You nod and say, "Yes, it was. She was just checking in on you guys."
Tara nods, taking a sip of her now slightly cooled-down coffee. "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be back in a bit. Let me know whenever you're ready to leave."
"Wait, uh, do you know where my phone is?" Tara asks, glancing around the room. You remember plugging it up near the kitchen counter when you arrived home yesterday.
You point towards the kitchen counter and say, "I think it's over there, by the sink." Tara thanks you and heads towards the kitchen to retrieve it, but her head turns as she watches you leave the room, pulling your tank top over your head, revealing your toned back.
Blushing slightly, Tara quickly averts her gaze and focuses on finding her phone.
When Tara finally finds her phone, she realizes that she has missed several calls and messages, mostly from Sam.
But her heart truly drops when she realizes your name is at the top of her messages, remembering that she did indeed text you drunk the previous night.
Tara's mind races as she tries to recall what she said, hoping she hasn't embarrassed herself or said anything inappropriate. "You've got to be kidding me."
Tara mutters under her breath, scrolling through her messages with you. This was so embarrassing, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get so out of control.
"The hot professor whose filling in for Ms.Crane? What the fuck?" Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she reads her own words. She had confessed her attraction to her substitute professor, not realizing how much she had revealed in her drunken state. Panic sets in as she wonders what your reaction to the message might have been.
Tara's phone dings, indicating a new message.
Mindy: Tara where the hell r u?
Mindy:  Sam is literally is losing her marbles
Shit.
Tara: im about to leave in about 15 minutes
Mindy: that didn't answer my question lollll
Tara: just tell sam im on the way
Mindy: omg you're at professor y/ln's house
Tara's heart races as she reads Mindy's message. How did Mindy know she was at your house? She quickly types a response, trying to come up with something to get Mindy off her back. 
Tara: wtf? no?
Tara: ill ttyl
-
The next couple of months consisted of Tara staying back after every lecture to talk to you. Now, you didn't exactly mind, but it did make you wonder why she was suddenly so interested in your company. Tara wouldn't talk about her studies, rather, she would ask you about your personal life, your hobbies, and your opinions on various topics.
Or whenever you'd be leaving campus or just arriving, Tara would leave her friends, jog over to you, and strike up a conversation. It seemed like she always found a reason to be near you, whether it was wanting to walk together or simply to share a funny story. Her genuine interest in getting to know you better was both flattering and intriguing.
"That's all for today, guys." You tell the class, packing up your things. Everyone begins leaving—well, everyone except for Tara. You shuffle your papers together, double-checking that you have everything, before looking up to find Tara still standing by your desk.
"Did you watch The Hereditary?" She had mentioned the movie a few times before, and you could tell she really wanted you to watch it. You smile and reply, "Yes, I did! Scared the shit out of me."
Tara laughs, "I thought you said you liked scary movies?" You begin walking toward the door. "I do!"
"What's your favorite scary movie?" Tara asks, genuinely curious. You pause for a moment, thinking of all the horror films you've seen over the years. "Hmm, that's a tough one," you say, pondering. "Maybe Chucky."
"You're joking," Tara says, raising an eyebrow. "Chucky? The killer doll? That's more of a cheesy horror movie than a scary one." You shrug and defend your choice. "Well, it scared me when I was younger. Plus, it has that nostalgic factor for me."
Tara chuckles and shakes her head playfully, saying, "Alright, if you say so. But I'll have to introduce you to some truly terrifying films one day."
You smile, holding the door open for the shorter girl. "Sure, T." Tara ignores the fluttering in her stomach at the nickname, striking up another conversation. "You heading home?"
You nod and reply, "Yeah, I was planning on making this salmon dish I found a recipe for. The sauce is supposed to be really flavorful, and I've been craving seafood lately." Tara hums, "Sounds fun."
You pause your walk, making eye contact with your student. "Maybe you could come...?"
Tara's eyes widen with surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a plan," she says, "What time?"
You check your watch and say, "How about around 7 p.m.? That should give me enough time to prepare everything." Tara nods eagerly, "Okay." You thank her and continue walking, "See you, T."
-
You were more than tipsy, this might have been the most fun you've had in a while. "I feel like a bad influence." You joke to Tara, pouring her another glass of wine. Tara laughs, "You're a perfect influence. You know how to have a good time."
You shake your head, standing up. "You can sit in the living room, I'm just gonna clear the table." Tara smiles and takes a sip of her wine. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you clean up."
Tara sets down her glass, standing up and helping you gather the dirty dishes and leftover food. Everything about this feels so domestic like you two are a married couple tidying up after a dinner party.
You start washing the dishes while Tara dries them and puts them away. The conversation flows effortlessly, making the task feel less like a chore and more like a shared experience.
On the last plate, you splash some soapy water onto Tara's shirt, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. "Oops, sorry about that!" you jokingly apologize, grinning mischievously.
Tara playfully flicks some water back at you, making you let out a laugh. "Oh, it's on now!" you exclaim, grabbing a nearby dish towel and flicking it towards Tara.
Tara runs out of the kitchen, laughing and dodging the dish towel, her wet shirt clinging to her as she goes. You turn off the water and chase after her, determined to catch her. While you reach the living room, Tara takes a sharp turn, causing you to stumble for a moment.
You quickly regain your balance and continue the chase, both of you enjoying the playful pursuit.
"I give up!" Tara calls out, breathless and giggling, as she collapses onto the couch. You slow down and join her, catching your breath and collapsing beside her.
You glance at her shirt, "Do you want one of my shirts?" Tara looks down at her damp shirt and shakes her head, still catching her breath. "No, I think I'll be fine," she replies with a smile.
Your eyes fall back on Tara, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly disheveled from the chase. You know you shouldn't be thinking about your student in this way, but it's hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.
You're caught up in your thoughts, you don't even notice how your body is subconsciously scooting closer to her, until your knees are almost touching. The air between you feels charged with tension, and you can't help but wonder if she feels it too.
A part of you wants to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but professional boundaries hold you back.
Tara turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you both share a knowing smile. Fuck, why did she have to look at you like that?
The intensity of the moment lingers, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You find yourself questioning the consequences of acting on this undeniable connection.
Tara leans in, and you follow behind slowly. You don't notice what you're doing until your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
Tara parts her lips slightly, her warm breath tickling your skin. You place a hand on her leg, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a passionate and electrifying kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.
You place your hand on Tara's waist, pulling her closer to you and allowing her to straddle you. Tara can't help but respond, her hands finding their way to your hair as she pulls you in even closer.
When you pull away, your heart is racing as if you had just run a marathon. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but in that moment, it felt so right. The chemistry between you and Tara was undeniable, and the desire for each other was too strong to resist.
Your hand rises to Tara's face, your thumb tracing over her soft, plump lips. She closes her eyes, and a moan escapes her mouth. You kiss her lightly, your tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. She responds with a slow, passionate kiss, her lips trembling as you pull away.
"Please," she mumbles, grinding her hips against yours. "Fuck, T." What was this girl doing to you? Without hesitation, you capture her lips once more, this time with an electrifying fervor that leaves you both breathless. In that moment, you knew that there was no going back, you were stuck under her spell.
Your hands slither under her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly, encouraging you to continue your exploration, and you do.
Skillfully, you unclasp her bra, and your fingers trace the outline of her breasts, teasing and caressing every inch of her sensitive skin. She arches her back, pressing herself closer to you, craving more of your touch.
You lift her shirt, revealing her bare chest, and your lips eagerly find their way to her exposed skin. The taste of her drives you wild, and you lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sweet and intoxicating sensation.
Your hands fly back to her waist, lifting her slightly as your lips trail to her stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way.
She lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she surrenders to the pleasure coursing through her body. Tara's breath hitches when you stand up, picking her up with ease. You carry her effortlessly to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around your waist, her body pressed against yours.
One thing is, you don't make it to the bed. Tara's back is now pressed against a wall, her heart pounding in her chest. You lean in closer, capturing her lips with yours as your hands roam over her body. You couldn't get enough.
You flip Tara, pressing her against the wall with a newfound intensity. Tara gasp, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling your strong grip on her hips and your lips trailing down her neck.
Your hands trail to her jeans button, fumbling to undo it as the passion between you increases. Tara's breath hitches as you slide down her pants, along with her underwear, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.
Without hesitating, you drop to your knees, eager to taste her. A loud slap is heard, followed by a gasp of surprise. Tara bites down on her lip, balling up her fist against the wall, feeling you spread her legs for better access.
You lean in closer, your tongue teasing her entrance as Tara's moans fill the room. Oh, shit. You were officially addicted to this girl. Every touch and every sound she made only fueled your obsession for her.
You couldn't get enough of the way she responded to your touch, her body arching and trembling with pleasure. Or the way she tasted, leaving a permanent mark on your tongue.
"Fuck..." Tara gasps, the side of her face flat against the wall as her hips buck against your mouth. You remove one of your hands from her ass, holding her hips steady as you continue to devour her.
Tara whines in response, reaching behind to tangle her fingers in your hair, urging you to keep going. Her moans grow louder, and her grip tightens. "I'm so close, shit..."
You intensify your movements, your tongue skillfully exploring every inch of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Tara's breath becomes ragged, you grip her with greater force, and she becomes more and more undone, on the brink of exploding in pleasure.
And just as she's about to tip over the edge, she lets out a guttural cry, her body convulsing in ecstasy.
"Y/N! Shit!"
You stand up, and Tara catches her breath, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.
While Tara attempts to compose herself, you unbuckle your belt and slowly remove your pants and underwear, revealing your own heightened state of arousal.
Tara's eyes widen when she feels your intense desire pressing against her. You press a kiss onto her head, whispering, "I need you, Tara."
Tara turns her head, meeting you with a lustful gaze. Her lips parted slightly as she whispers, "I want you too, Y/N." You place a soft kiss on the freckled face that you've come to adore before taking yourself, rubbing against her in a slow, teasing motion.
Tara's wetness lubricates you, allowing you to slip right in with a breathful gasp. As you enter her, Tara arches her back and lets out a low moan, her body responding eagerly to your touch.
The feeling of her tightness around you heightens the nirvana, driving you both insane.
You pick up the pace, your hips meeting hers in a delicious rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies—a symphony of desire and passion.
Tara's arm reaches around, her nails dig into your neck while her moans grow louder and more desperate with every movement.
Tara's hand falls back against the wall as she braces herself against the overwhelming pleasure. Your own hand falls on top of hers, and for a second, Tara finds herself caught between the intensified sensations and the tender touch of your hand.
She exhales a breath of pleasure, and her eyes roll back in pleasure. You lean in to kiss her neck, and she moans in response. You move your lips down to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin. "You feel so good, T." You groan, your voice thick with please.
This time, without warning, Tara lets go, a long and loud moan escaping her lips as she arches her back in ecstasy.
She collapses against your chest, her eyes half closed, catching her breath as her body trembles with satisfaction. You hold her tightly, savoring the intimate moment shared between you both.
As you slowly untangle yourselves from the intimate embrace, Tara wraps her arms around your neck and plants a soft kiss on your lips.
You smile into it, placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The lingering taste of her lips lingers on yours, igniting a drive for more.
Tara moves onto her knees with your help, never breaking eye contact. Her hand wraps around your pulsating shaft before she kisses the tip, her tongue swirling around it.
The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly. You grab Tara's hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper into her mouth. "That feels great, shit..." you mutter, throwing your head back.
Tara's expert tongue continues to work its wonders, teasing and exploring every inch of you.
You begin moving your hips in rhythm with Tara's movements, finding a steady and pleasurable pace.
The hallway fills with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet, persistent slurping of Tara's mouth. "Yeah...just like that, Tara."
Your grip on her hair tightens, urging her on as she eagerly takes you deeper, her eyes watering at the sensation. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.
Tara can't help but think about how this night will shift your relationship. She wonders if this newfound intimacy will bring you closer or create complications that she didn't want to deal with. As you catch your breath, Tara's thoughts wander to the potential consequences of crossing this line.
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polly-pocket13 · 6 days
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pretty glittery girly movie
paring: katsuki bakugou x reader warnings: cursing, bad gramma a/n: please enjoy it
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“Why is she here?,” Bakugou asked his friend Kirishima. 
He replied, “She is here because I invited her.”
““She” has a name and “she” can speak for herself.”, you said annoyed.
Bakugou responded with a “Tsk”.
“Kacchan, be kind to Y/N. When Y/N and I spoke yesterday, she mentioned that she was interested in seeing the movie we had in mind for today. So I invited her to watch the movie with us.”, Kirishima explained to Bakugou.
You couldn't speak for yourself again. You were aware that Kirishima was just trying to be kind, but you hate when someone talks for you.
“We're watching a horror film and not some pretty glittery girly movie, you know.” Bakugou told you. 
You said angrily, “I know we're watching a scary movie, Jerk.”
“Jerk? This all you got? This is cute, little wallflower.”, he spoked and smiled for a brief moment.
He can't be serious right now.
Why is he like that?
Why does he always have to bully me?
But did he smile before?
Jesus.
Smiling makes him even more handsome.
“Kacchan, I told you to be kind. Y/N is my friend. Let's go inside the movie should start soon.” Kirishima said.
We went in and bought tickets and snacks. Kirishima suddenly received a call and went outside. “Are you coming with me to the hall, or will you wait for Kirishima?” you asked Bakugou. “I wait.” he replied short. You simply nod, walk in the hall and sit down. 
Bakugou walked in just before the movie started, and sat next to you. You asked him, “Where is Kirishima?” 
“Private Emergency. He went to his mom to help her with something.” he answered you.
Amazing.
Now you're watching a movie with Bakugou alone.
This is going to be quite something.
You exhaled deeply.
The movie began, and you focused your attention on the cinema screen.  
After a half hour and at least 5 jump scares, you were scared as hell.
As a reflex, you grabbed Bakugous Hand and simply squished.
After recognizing your actions, you attempted to remove your hand; however, you were unable to do so because Bokugou held on to your hand.
He came closer to your ear and whispered, “I told you this not a pretty glittery girly movie. But I can protect you if you ask me nicely”. 
You shook his hand away. “I know that this is a horror movie. I am not scared, and I don't need your protection.” you whispered back and focused your eyes on the screen again. 
Thank god he didn't see how you blushed.
You really tried to watch the movie without making any signs that you are freaking out because you are so scared. Nevertheless, he noticed.
Bakugou raised the armrest between your seats and put his arm around you. He pulled you closer to him.
Before you could move away from him, a pretty bad jump scare was shown, and you hid your face behind his shoulder.
You could smell his scent, he has an incredible one. 
“Thank you.”, you mumbled.
“Your welcome, stubborn wallflower.” he whispered.  
You were snuggled against him until the movie end.
After the movie, you walked out and there was awkward silence. Your cheeks  were still blushed. You cleared your throat and said, “Thank you for keeping me safe from those scary nuns.”
“Like I said before, you're welcome. But you should make it up to me.” he told you.
“Make it up? How should I make it up?” you asked confused.
He looked in your eyes as he said, “Go on a date with me.”
Your heart began to beat faster, and you blushed even more. 
“Well, I guess I can't say no” you told him with a smile. 
He smirked and said, “No. No, you can't.”
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talaok · 6 months
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The Mask
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You ask your husband Joel to buy a Ghostface mask to wear during your "alone time", and he’s more than happy to comply
Warnings: smut| mask kink, sir kink, degradation, threats of anal (but no actual anal), unprotected p in v sex, choking, Joel has a bit too much fun fulfilling your fantasy... but then also aftercare and soft husband!Joel cause ill always go back to my fluffy roots (also i don't specify it but obv they've talked about all their boundaries and everything, so they know each other's limits)
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It had been such a stressful day that the last thing you had in mind was what had happened yesterday.
With Sarah wanting to change costume last minute because apparently she now hated the idea of being a princess and wanted to be a witch, with Molly's helicopter of a mom constantly calling you to make sure your daughter wouldn't get to the sleepover with lice or carrying a snack that god forbid had gluten in it... it had been such a hectic day that, once Joel finally managed to ride Sarah to her Halloween sleepover, all you wanted to do was lie in bed and hide under the covers... which is what you did...for twenty minutes, before you surrendered to the inevitable task of cleaning up the mess you'd made on the vanity from doing Sarah's makeup.
And it was then, as you were huffing and sighing loudly into what you thought was an empty house, that a figure appeared behind you, making your body run cold with fear, and your heart start to beat out of your chest.
You remained immobilized, frozen in your spot, watching from the mirror as the figure approached, backing away from where he was leaning on the door to walk towards you slowly...
And then you got it, your brain recovered from the scare and you pieced it together.
Such a quick conversation, such a quick decision you'd made as you shopped for Sarah's costume, that in all the chaos, it had managed to slip your mind.
"Ghostface?" he'd frowned once you handed him the mask "I don't think Sarah's even old enough to watch that movie"
And at that you had smiled, looking up at him with that devilish smile you got whenever you got a special idea.
"it's not for her"
his brows knitted in puzzlement again
God, for being such a smart man he sure was dense sometimes
"You wanna dress up too sweetheart?" he asked, making you inevitably snort.
"No" you'd laughed "it's for you"
"for me? what would I need to put this on f-"
And that was when he got it, watching you bite your bottom lip, as that particular spark lighted your eyes, then, he finally put it together.
"ohhh" he he breathed, a smirk making its way to his lips as soon as he realized "Oh yeah, we're definitely buying this"
And that's how you ended up here, watching your masked husband grab your waist to host you up so you were flashed against him, against his tight black t-shirt and black jeans.
You couldn't feel his breath, but you could hear him breathe heavily beside your neck, right against your ear, looking at you from the mirror and studying you as if you were a pray.
Now this wasn't the first time you'd asked him to do something... kinkier, you had made him buy a blindfold, you had your fair amount of toys locked in your bedside drawer, and you were sure some rope and one of those little leather whips you'd purchased once were still somewhere in your wardrobe, but this, the dressing up, the putting on a mask... this, you'd never done, this was all new...
And god were you excited.
"so..." he spoke, his voice huskier than usual, a giveaway of just how much he was enjoying this too already "You've got a boyfriend?"
Now if he got to play the part, so wanted you. 
What fun would this be otherwise?
"I've got a husband" you murmured, your voice faint, seemingly scared.
"mh..." he hummed, his head tilting downwards as if he was looking at you up and down "Lucky husband"
You wanted to say something, anything, but before you could even breathe he had turned you around, his strong, veiny hands gripping your waist.
"P-please" you shut your eyes "Please don't hurt me Mr. Ghostface"
A faint chuckle came from beside the mask
"It's sir" he corrected
Oh he knew you so fucking well
"I-I'm sorry... sir" you whimpered, trying to get used to not getting to look into his hazel eyes, but instead into two big black holes. 
"A-are you gonna hurt me, sir?"
His thick fingers caressed your sides, as he took his time answering you
"no" he finally said "Not if you behave" he explained, his grip tightening, a simple gesture, a simple threat "Are you gonna behave y/n?"
"y-yes" you nodded, actually believing it now, actually losing yourself in the fantasy.
He didn't need to say anything, all he did was tilt his head, and you had realized your mistake.
"yes, sir"
"good girl"
Just two words, and your panties were drenched.
He didn't speak, all he did was break away from you to walk backward until he could sit on the edge of the bed, watching you expectantly.
"go on"
that's all he said, and fuck but that's all you needed.
Your eyes remained on him as you took off every piece of your clothing. You started softly tugging your shirt off, listening to his breathing falter, then you got rid of your pants, then it was time to undo your bra, and then finally, finally you were shuffling your panties down your legs just to step out of them.
A whispered groan fled his lips at the sight, and he couldn't help but stand up to meet you.
His right palm landed on your asscheeks before you even realized what was happening, and a soft whimper escaped your throat in response
"real lucky husband" he growled
An hour ago, you were trying his daughter's Halloween costume on her in this exact room, and now there you were, naked, in front of your masked husband.
"please sir" you pleaded
"What?" he hushed "What do you want?"
He was slowly rounding you, bringing a hand around your torso with him, sending shivers everywhere they could be
"I-I"
"I want to hear you say it" he purred, right against your ear now "I want to hear you beg for my cock, beg for me to fuck you, I know you want it"
"I- Sir, I-"
"I want you to admit just how much of a slut you are" he murmured, now in front of you "I want you to admit just how much you want it"
“Please Sir-i need you”
“Mhh” he hummed, “what do you need?”
His left hand started a slow path down your belly, igniting shivers with his touch, until he was right there, and all he did was cup your pussy and he broke you completely
“You, I-inside of me” you whimpered
"is that right?" he taunted, tilting his head
"yes" you nodded "yes, please sir-"
But once again, he had turned you around like a doll, powerless to his strength, and stole your words from your tongue.
The table rutted from the impact once he pushed your back down on it, your head almost hitting the hardwood.
"Is this what you want?" 
His rough jeans and hard bulge were flashed against your bare ass, making you squirm.
"answer me" he demanded, gripping your hair to yank your head back so you could look at him from the mirror "I asked you a question"
"yes" you murmured "Yes please"
A snicker made its way to your ears as you heard the familiar sound of his zipper undoing.
"aren't you the little whore..." he growled, his insult only rendering you all the more desperate as he slapped his cock on your asscheeks "You'd let me put it anywhere I want?" he mocked, his tip infiltrating between your crack and probing at your other entrance "even in this pretty little hole?"
You gasped.
"I bet you would" he teased "I bet you'd let me do anything I want with you" his head tilted to the left, watching you biting your lip as you tried to keep a straight face, and failing miserably "you're just a poor slut that's desperate to be filled, you don't care in which hole, do you?" he asked now, "answer me"
"y-yes" you stuttered "I-I'm a slut, I'll take anything you'll give me sir, just please-"
"please what?"
"please put it in"
you couldn't see the smirk on his lips, but you sure as hell could hear it.
"Since you asked so nicely..."
And it was then, it was then that he trusted his whole length and girth inside of you with one single push, making you cry out into the thick air and forcing the whole table to shake just for him to not even wait a second, he didn't give you a moment to breathe, a moment to recover, no, he did the opposite... he started splitting you in fucking half.
All the remaining makeup on the vanity was tumbling down onto the floor one by one, but he didn't show signs of slowing down, or god forbid stopping.
The sound of his skin slapping with yours bounced off the walls with each merciless thrust, and you... you were fucking gone.
"look at that" his grip on your hair tightened as he forced your head back even more "I want you to see how much you like this" he groaned, his digits on your waist definitely leaving marks "How much of a slut you are" he spoke "how much you enjoy getting fucked by a stranger"
You wanted to say something, anything really, but as you watched your reflection, your eyes spilling tears, your cheeks wet and your mascara smudged all over... all your mouth could produce were moans, or whimpers, or curses not even belonging to the English language each time his dick hit that spot inside of you that made you want to scream.
"Look at that" Your scalp hurt as he fisted your hair more "Look at how fucking pathetic you look" he spit as you gasped for air and as you felt your belly tighten in that way it did before your release.
"you're gonna cum already?" he realized, his tone mocking "The slut likes it so much she's not even gonna last a minute?"
"Mh-mh" you hummed, "y-yes, I-it's too..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you gripped the edge of the table until your knuckles went white as the orgasm unexpectantly overtook your whole body, only letting you moan out a "good" before you were back to a non-verbal state and cried in pleasure.
He let you ride out your high, but as soon as you came down he had manhandled you and threw you on the bed back down, not even giving you a moment to realize what was happening before he had slipped his cock inside you again.
His hand took hold of your arms and pinned them above your head as you arched your back at the feeling of this new angle. It wasn't as deep but the way his pelvis rutted against your clit with each movement of his hips, made it all just as breathtaking, and speaking of which...
His other hand sneaked up your chest, diverting a moment to grab at your boobs before he was wrapping his fingers around your throat, first gently and then applying more and more pressure, until you were completely in a sensory overload and all you could feel was pleasure in its purest form.
"fuck-look at that, you're so desperate for this cock that your pussy's sucking me back in"
He taunted, his thrusts remaining as unforgiving as ever. 
you had lost all touch with reality, this wasn't your husband, this wasn't you, this wasn't your bedroom this was- you didn't even know what it was, you just knew your brain had stopped working long ago, and you were on the verge of another mindblowing orgasm
"what would your husband think seeing you like this?" he purred as he forced your head to the mirror again, and this time, the image you were met with was only more of a mess, your cheeks red, your mascara nonexistent, and your mouth parted, desperately looking for air that it wasn't gonna find any time soon...
"drunk on another man's cock" he continued, his grip on your neck tightening to the point you were seeing black dots staining your vision "Not even able to speak anymore" he groaned "Look at yourself... such a fucking whore"
And then inevitably, as fucked up as that may be, those words sent you over the edge, your legs shaking and your walls tightening around him as you moaned louder than you'd ever had.
And at the feeling you were granting him, he couldn't help but follow suit, filling you up with a loud groan, until his juices and yours mixed as they ran down your thighs.
It took more than a moment for either of you to get back to reality, but as always, Joel managed to beat you to it, pulling out of you and taking his mask off, revealing his flushed and fucked out state as he whispered a low "fuck"
"sweetheart?" he called, stroking your cheek once you wouldn't open your eyes "Are you ok?" he asked "Did I go too far?"
"n-no" you murmured almost inaudibly as you shook your head "You were... perfect, I'm just" a yawn interrupted your words
Tired. 
he didn't need you to finish the sentence, all he did was pick you up and place you softly on your side of the bed, positioning your head gently on the pillow
"stay here, I'll clean you up"
As if there was any chance you'd get out of bed after that
And he did, he cleaned you between your thighs with a wet cloth, gave you a tall glass of water to drink, and then set you under the covers just to join you a moment later, watching you crawl closer to him until each part of your body was touching one of his.
"Better?" he asked, petting your hair as you looked up at him with your head on his chest 
"yes" you smiled "Thank you"
he stroked your back as he leaned down to kiss you "I love you" he promised
"I love you" you vowed back
He smiled too now as he leaned back on the headboard
"you wanna watch something?"
"sure"
"mhh" he hummed, pointing the remote at the tv "Got anything in mind?"
And there it was again, that dangerous dangerous grin
"How about Scream?"
752 notes · View notes
atimeofyourlife · 5 months
Text
A family Thanksgiving
This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents
The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.
"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.
"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.
"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.
"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."
Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.
When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."
"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.
"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"
"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.
"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."
"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.
"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.
Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.
"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.
"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.
"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.
After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.
"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.
"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.
"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.
"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."
"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.
"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."
"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"
"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."
"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.
"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.
"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.
"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.
"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.
"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."
Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.
"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."
"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.
"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."
"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.
"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."
Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.
Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.
"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.
"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.
Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.
"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."
Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.
"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."
"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."
"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.
"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"
"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."
"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"
"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."
"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."
"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.
"But, mother-" His father started.
"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."
"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."
"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."
"Mother,"
"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."
Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.
"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.
"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.
"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."
"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."
"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."
"Grandma." Steve protested.
"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.
Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.
"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"
"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."
"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"
"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."
"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."
"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.
709 notes · View notes
thewordypeach · 11 months
Text
Cream
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Cream (Milk)
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 2.9k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, oral, titty sucking and titty fucking, (lactation kink), implied breeding kink, squirting, etc. summary: Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it - author's note: ummm … so this sequel had me questioning my life choices. like i do not know what possessed me to take it this far lol so you better blow it up like you did with ‘Milk’ 🤭 anyways, i hope you like it <3 xoxo the wordy peach
It begins with: “You’ll never guess what they’re playing at movie night,” 
You look at Joel, a single eyebrow raised. Joel wolfishly grins, his brown eyes sparkling, “Austin Powers and the Spy Who Shagged Me,” 
He watches as your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Joel can’t believe you don’t remember the conversation from last week, the one that had you confessing to him that you felt like one of those fembots from the aforementioned movie. He steps closer, head dipping to your ear, whispering: “Machine gun titties,” 
That’s all it takes for you to remember. And it has your cheeks flushing pink. Sheepishly, you smile at him. But, of course, the cock block herself pipes up: “The spy who what?”
Ellie, you spunky little shithead. You love her to death. You never want her to grow up. But lately, she’s been ruining your alone time with Joel. You know she just wants to be a part of the family, and she is. It never even crossed your mind to think otherwise. She’s the daughter you never had. Sometimes you wish she’d just go and make friends that aren’t you or Joel. 
You look at Joel, waiting for him to answer. But Joel is expectantly gazing at you. A playful smirk ghosts across his lips. He thinks it’s your duty to explain the birds, the bees, and everything between them to Ellie. Of course, she knows most of it. But she questions absolutely everything. Just yesterday, you had the unfortunate experience of explaining anal to her; Joel walked out of the house when she asked and didn’t return until later. 
You poke a finger into Joel’s chest, hissing at him, “It’s your turn,” 
His face goes slack before he gives you a sullen look. He pouts those luscious lips of his, “But darlin'….” 
“Don't darlin' me, mister. You owe me for yesterday,” 
Joel continues to pout but eventually relents. He turns to Ellie with a face void of any emotion: “It’s a classic movie from the 2000s,” 
“Yeah, but what does shagged mean?” Ellie asks. Her eyes look between you and Joel, waiting for an answer. Joel grows uncomfortable. He’s never been one to talk about this kind of stuff. 
“Yeah, Joel. What does shagged mean?” You ask. 
“It- it… it means…” Joel stutters and stumbles over the words. His face is turning pink. He looks flustered as he searches for the right thing to say. You’re enjoying him floundering around. In one great, big breath, Joel spills out: “It’s a British slang term for intercourse,” 
Ellie blinks at him several times as she repeats what Joel just said to her. She starts chuckling, “Shagged means sex?!” Ellie turns into a mess of laughter. She’s clutching her sides. It’s not that funny. But you like watching her have fun. It brings back the innocence and reminds you of childhood. You were young when the movie came out, and the world was ravaged by fungus a few years after. So you cherish this moment of hilarity. You rub your tummy and smile at how much fun you will have raising this new baby with Joel and Ellie -
You don’t make it to movie night because you’re busy with the nursery, and the thought of walking all the way to town hall makes you cringe. You don’t like going anywhere unless it is essential. You make Joel and Ellie do everything for you. There are still some things you do yourself.
You insist Joel and Ellie go. Ellie doesn’t fight it (she’s so excited to watch a piece of history), but Joel grumbles about it. He wants to stay and help. By helping, Joel means he wants to milk you. He can’t stop helping you, and it’s the only thing on his mind - Joel swears he even dreams about it now. However, there hasn’t been a single moment for him to help you. Tommy has Joel doing everything and anything, and between his brother and Ellie, Joel hasn’t had time for his new hobby. 
So, after he drops Ellie off at the movie (making sure that she is settled and making sure that Tommy will bring her home after), Joel leaves and makes his way back to you. He wants to spend every free minute with you, but more importantly, this is the perfect opportunity to do what he’s been dreaming of without any interruptions. Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it -
You hear him before you see him, and then you feel him. His arms wrap around your body, and he presses his chest into your back. You sink into the warmth, eyes closing and throat humming. His hands briefly touch your stomach before they find their rightful place. Joel cups your tits, placing each of them into his hands, and marvels at the heaviness. So full of his special cream. 
“They’ve gotten bigger, haven’t they?” Joel murmurs. His cock is already hard and straining inside his pants. Hell, on the walk home, the prospect of milking you had him almost cumming right then and there. 
“They’re definitely heavier,” Joel adds as he squeezes them. He notices you aren’t wearing a bra, and with one simple motion, he has his shirt on the floor (the only one that fits you). You’re facing him now, chest and belly exposed. The sight of you has him losing it. Joel feels happy and excited, and everything in between that. Joel can’t believe that you're his, and he’s yours. Nor can he believe his eyes because your tits are definitely bigger, and your nipples are already dewy with that milky nectar he loves so much. 
Joel groans, latches his mouth onto your right side, and starts suckling like a starved man. Your nipple is already stiff and responsive, and you feel the sensation of milk rushing through to meet your partner’s greedy tongue. His hand expertly kneads the pillowy flesh, expressing even more of the sweet cream that has him hard as a rock. Joel starts to breathe deeper and sucks harder, causing you to moan. 
Your fingers comb through Joel’s hair, and you hold him there because the pleasure of having Joel drain your tits is undeniable; in fact, the more Joel sucks and licks your nipple, the more your arousal grows. You have to remind him, “Joel…. We have less than ninety minutes -”
He grunts in response and moves his mouth to the other side he’s been neglecting. The feeling is indescribable, and you relish it. The relief Joel is giving you is insurmountable. But it also has you growing impatient with him. Your core is aching for his cock, and your hands travel over his body. You feel his muscles, thick and robust, beneath the plaid shirt. You need him now. 
“Joel,” Your hand drops to the bulge in his jeans, and you gently rub it with purpose. The friction makes Joel groan, finally lifting his head from your tits. His eyes are filled with a dazy lustiness that makes you fumble with your words. Still, it doesn’t matter because Joel is suddenly pressing his lips against yours and kissing you with an ardour that makes you forget everything you are about to say. 
You taste the substance that has Joel acting ravenous. It reminds you of cereal milk because it’s so sweet. You part from his lips, whispering, “Can I taste you now?” 
He doesn’t have time to answer because you’re already lowering yourself to your knees, planting them on the ground in front of Joel. With one hand, you pop open the buttons of his jeans and pull down the zipper. Roughly, you tug at the opening and watch as his thick, luscious cock springs free from its confines. At the sight of it, you lick your lips. Your fingers wrap around his length and slide over his stiffness. The movement makes Joel shiver, and when your lips finally touch his cock, a groan escapes from his throat.
Joel has been so concerned about making you feel good that he forgot to consider himself. Suddenly, you thrust him inside your mouth while twisting your hand down his cock. He quickly fills your mouth, and his hand grasps your hair in hopes of controlling you. However, he’s fine with letting you have your way right now. It’s been a while since you had the opportunity to please him; Joel loves how the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you’re so adept at sucking him off that his length doesn’t make you gag anymore  - 
Expertly, you glide your mouth from the hilt to the tip of Joel’s cock, coating it in your saliva. Joel’s eyes nearly roll into his head because it feels so fucking good. It’s the only thing he can tell you because he’s almost lost his mind from the bliss of your mouth sheathing his cock. You don’t stop until Joel gasps for air and asks you to stop. 
“Babe, babe, babe,” His voice is husky, and he roughly pulls on your hair. You gasp and gaze up at him with a thick string of spit connecting your lips to his cock. Joel quivers at the sight and has to remember what he will say. You wait patiently. Obediently. 
Breathlessly, he asks, “Do you want me to fuck you here? Or…”
Without skipping a beat, you reply, “Here,” 
Joel doesn’t need to be told twice and is quick to shed his jeans before he starts to help you. You lean forward onto the palm of your hands and watch as Joel goes behind and begins to slide off the sweatpants you’re always wearing. Not that Joel minds. He knows it’s the only thing that fits you because you remind him every damn day. Once the sweatpants are off, he tosses them to the side and stares lovingly at your ass. It’s so round and perky and panty-less. He’s genuinely surprised, and it makes him smile. 
He caresses your fleshy cheeks, asking, “Is this for me?”
Joel can’t see your face but can tell you are blushing. Sheepishly, you admit, “As soon as you left, I took them off - for easy access,”
“Oh, darlin’,” He swoons, “You’re so sweet to think of me,”
Joel pries your sweet cheeks apart and buries his face, his tongue immediately swirling around your puckered asshole. Mewls spill forth from your mouth, and you wiggle your hips, trying to splay them apart because your body needs more. Joel’s tongue slithers down, lapping the juice practically pouring out of your needy, swollen cunt. He licks and sucks with wild abandon, groaning at your deliciousness. He doesn’t stop until you are begging him, “Joel, fuck me. Fuck me with your big cock, please. Oh god, fuck me, already!”
He removes his mouth from your exterior and replaces it with his cock. He rubs and rubs his bulbous crown between your molten wetness, gliding it back and forth until it’s coated with your slickness. When he thinks it’s enough, he pushes into your tight cunt. At first, your channel is resistant. But slowly, your velvety walls happily start devouring Joel’s cock until his entire length basks in the warmth. 
You are gasping at the sensation of being stretched out. It’s almost too much in this position, and a small rock of Joel’s hips gives way to your first orgasm. Your vision swirls as a wave of ecstasy comes crashing through. Your fingers grip the carpet as your cunt swells and clenches his cock. Your back arches as you cry out, “Fuck, Joel,”
Immediately, he stops, thinking he has hurt you or the baby. Panic-stricken, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“N-n-nothing,” You stutter out, attempting to catch your breath. Your lungs greedily suck in the air, saturated with the smell of sex. You tell him, “You made me cum,”
“Already?” He murmurs and devilishly thinks about the five times he made you cum last week. Joel rocks his hips again, and you whimper at the movement. At a glacial pace, Joel pulls out before sliding back in and burying his cock to the hilt. You’re gripping the carpet and moaning like crazy. He’s sure the neighbours can hear you, which drives Joel forward. He wants them to know how good he is at fucking you. 
Joel grabs your hips, nails sinking into the fleshy bits, and plows in and out of your pussy. He’s pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in, ensuring you feel every inch of his girthy length. Your body is rocking beneath his, tits swaying like udders. You reach between your legs to touch your clit. It’s pulsating and yearning to be touched. You gingerly circle it, knowing a light touch is enough to send you over the edge. And you’re right because, within seconds, your second orgasm is rolling through.
You wail, “Joel, Joel, Joel,” but Joel doesn’t stop this time. He continues to youthfully spear your pussy and watches as your creamy juices coat his cock. Vigorously, you rub your clit because a third orgasm is imminent. Your back arches and your hips are high in the air, and Joel stops, pulling out completely, to watch as your pussy trembles with another orgasm. Your thighs are dripping with your juices, and his name still spills out of your mouth. Repeatedly. 
His hand squeezes your hip, “Mmm, darlin’. That’s your third one - should we slow down? Don’t want to hurt -”
“Need more,” You interrupt him, “Need to cum more, Joel,”
Joel shakes his head, “Darlin’,'' He knows you aren’t thinking straight, driven to recklessness because of the pure ecstasy that has raptured your body. You turn over, laying on your back. You splay your legs apart, and your pussy glistens in the light. It’s so swollen, so puffy. Your hand is back, and your fingers are working your clit. But from this angle, it’s a little more challenging because of your protruding belly. And it’s making you frustrated. Especially because Joel is just watching, not helping. 
“Joel,” You growl, “Fuck me,”
A single eyebrow of his shoots up, and you begrudgingly mutter, “Please,”
Much to your surprise, Joel moves. However, instead, he hovers above your chest and settles his cock in the valley of your tits. His hands squeeze them, and the milk for his unborn child sprays out, sprinkling across your chest and hitting his cock. At first, Joel goes slow, his cock passing between your tits. It’s a different kind of friction and holy hell… it feels good. His cock, slippery with your juices and milk, has him gliding through your breasts with ease. He grips harder and fucks your tits faster, rocking his hips back and forth. 
As he slips in and out, he milks your bountiful breasts in the process. He does it until you are soaked. He’s breathing hard, and his balls are tightening. He’s close, so fucking close. But he doesn’t want to finish like this because he knows you want more orgasms, and who is he to deny his pregnant partner? You have been carrying his baby for months, and it hasn’t been easy. And Joel knows that once the baby is born, you won’t be able to have sex for weeks. Not until you’re healed. So, why not let you live a little? 
He pulls his cock out of your cleavage and moves his face to yours, kissing you passionately. His tongue swirls and mingles with yours before he shifts down. Joel latches his mouth around your nipple and practically inhales a gulp of cream into his mouth. He doesn’t swallow and comes back up, kissing you again. Messily, Joel washes your mouth with your milk. It’s sweet and warm, and it’s fucking kinky as hell. It has you moaning into Joel’s mouth. He moans back, letting you know he loves every moment of it too.
As he continues to kiss you, Joel reaches down and takes his cock, sliding it over your puffy and sensitive lips before pressing it into your velvet channel. Your body welcomes him, and your mouth drops, gasping as you effortlessly fit his entire length . Once more, Joel explores your warm depths with a vigorous youthfulness. His flesh is clapping yours over and over until you are yelling his name over and over. Your hands are gripping his forearms, nails digging into his skin. 
“Mmm, Joel, mmm, Joel, gonna cum, Joel, mmm - fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your eyes roll back, and an unwavering fourth climax raptures your body. A euphoric release rolls across your body, and you undulate beneath Joel. He watches as your belly quivers, and he feels your cunt trying to expel him, and when he does finally pull out, a massive bolt of liquid escapes - he realizes you’re squirting. Something he’s only heard rumours about. He’s astonished by the amount of liquid that is coming out and by how long your orgasm is lasting.
Meanwhile, you are gasping for air, lungs greedily gulping it down. You have no idea what happened; all you know is it’s a big wet mess down there. You’re gazing at Joel, cock-drunk. Orgasm-drunk. Your brain is buzzing with satisfaction. Your fixation on cumming has been satiated. However, your partner is still rock hard. He still needs to cum, and he’s more eager than ever before. He shoves his cock back in, and the molten wetness has his cock quivering as his climax punches through, pushing him over the edge.
He doesn't warn you. He doesn’t have to - the damage is done. You’re reaping what he sowed. Joel shoots his seed as far into you as possible with a single thrust. His hands touch your belly, caressing the soft skin, and he pushes his cock even deeper, where he empties the rest of his balls. When he pulls out, his cum mixed with yours oozes out from your crease and pools onto the carpet beneath you. 
You dare to smile up at him, murmuring: “Thank you, Daddy,”
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insanermin · 2 months
Note
Hey i just read your fanfic "and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all". and i loved it, i wonder if you could maybe make a part 2 if you have time, And if you want too. And ofcourse, you dont have to do it or rush it
hi! thank you sm <3 yes ofc i can, haven't written in a hot minute so;
and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all, part 2
pairing: ellie x fem!reader
warnings: toxic relationship, cheating, nsfw, curse words, soft?? ellie but highkey salty, not proofread yet again, lesbian sex <3, and also first time writing smut plsplspls have mercy on me, xoxo
word count: 3,9k
summary: you visit ellie again to thank her for comforting and taking care of you, but things take a different course when your 'girlfriend' texts you. or; ellie eats you out.
as warm tones start to set into the blue sky, february doesn't seem so cold anymore.
all your worries were washed away, all thanks to ellie. after you stormed to her place at the most vile hour, ellie took good care of you, the two of you watched your favourite movies until you fell asleep and she prepared you some breakfast before you had to leave for work. guilt resides in the pits of your gut, your gratefulness has never left the four walls of your mind, it is time you finally thank ellie for everything she has done for you these past few days.
you spent the whole day in bed, sulking away while thoughts of your girlfriend cross your mind. you reach for your phone, no message from her.
as you take steady steps to your closet you realise that there's no turning back now. you've made up your mind, it is over. but you needed good advice from a very good friend, surely ellie would have all the answers to your questions. flicking through all the clothes in your closet, memories of your girlfriend start to occupy your mind. the dress you wore on your first date, the hoodie she bought you on a rainy november day, the graphic tee you wore the first time she made you cry, and all the other clothes that witnessed you being miserable because of her. it had to end, now.
all dressed up now, you wash your face, washing the smudged mascara from yesterday's crying away. lately your emotions have been all over the place but you told yourself it is better to feel them rather than bottling everything up.
ready to leave, you text ellie a simple 'i'm gonna stop by your place' shortly regretting that you didn't text her earlier. but to your luck she replies almost immediately.
'sure, have you eaten?' the words circle your mind. you don't know whether you're impressed by the fact that she answered so quickly or that she potentially knew you haven't eaten a single thing yet.
'no' you reply, slipping your phone into your pocket while fishing out your keys that you mindlessly put in your pockets before locking the door.
you step outside and cold wind is blowing your way. the sky has already lost itself in complete darkness, but the clouds haven't shied away, surrounding the moons light.
ellie is just as nervous as the last time you were here, although now she had something to keep herself busy with: cooking.
keeping it simple, because she's too scared to mess up, but not too boring, ellie doesn't want you to think that she can't cook.
a dilemma she might never escape, because she knows you don't overthink any of your actions towards her. but should she really be thinking about this right now? ellie tries her best to feel somewhat content that you're coming over. however, knowing that she is one-sidedly overthinking her actions, caring for your needs and, well, liking you, she can't help but feel like burning this entire kitchen down instead of cooking a nice meal for the two of you.
"shit," ellie groans as she feels the blade digging into her fingertip. this for sure wasn't part of the cute scenarios she just made up nor was it part of her plan to burn this kitchen down. ellie rushes to find a plaster, a bandage, anything to put on her finger.
the door rings, ellie rushes to the door, heavy footsteps echo and bounce off the stairwell walls. the sound of you felt like a mixture of butterflies and sour lemons in her guts.
and there you stand, right in front of her. something in the fresh evening air must've altered your brain chemistry, because why do you feel her eyes linger? and why do you want them to? your emotional imbalance is surely to blame, you most definitely lack attentiveness and consideration. ellie lightly clearing her throat interrupts your almost driving you to insanity monologue, your eyes now drawn to her body.
has your friend's arms always looked this big? she's just wearing a plain white t-shirt, but you can't seem to stop yourself from tracing the strokes of her tattoo with your eyes. soft hello's were exchanged before ellie offered to take off your jacket. the outfit you picked out today and deemed too light for your own comfort suddenly became ridiculously warm.
"how have you been?" ellie asks, making her way to the kitchen as you awkwardly stand in the hallway trying to cool down.
"better? uh, do you mind if i change?" your voice breaks a little, you lightly chuckle to cover your discomfort.
ellie shakes her head, her whole attention directed towards the plates she's trying to decorate nicely with the food she has just made. truth is, she's trying her hardest not to think about you changing, about your bare, soft skin, about—
"oh my god," it emerges from ellie's bedroom, ripping ellie out of her mildly inappropriate thoughts. she was so sure that she cleaned her room well, even checked multiple times and every corner, what on earth did you find? she fiddles with her hands as she walks towards her bedroom, door slightly open. the auburn haired woman doesn't believe in god, but on this very day, she is making all kinds of prayers, hoping for the best. ellie opens the door and seeing you sit on her bed with your phone in your hand is surprisingly disappointing.
you watch her stand at the doorframe, her arms crossed, flexing her buff arms. you can't ignore her furrowed eyebrows, but when ellie notices the concern written all over your face she mouths a low 'what happened?'
you turn around your phone for ellie to read the text message your girlfriend just sent you.
'hey baby, can we talk? i'm really sorry' ellie reads in her head. she definitely prayed for all the wrong reasons, because this is exponentially worse than anything she feared just a minute ago.
"why are you showing me this?" she asks, her voice low. she's still standing in front of you, looking down on you. her gaze on you makes you feel things you haven't felt in a long time. but your girlfriend just texted you and is apologising for her actions, you need to focus. but something about the way her eyes are locking you in is making it a little harder to breathe.
you take a deep breath, you need oxygen to clear your head.
"well, i came here because i needed advice—" you carefully watch ellie approaching you slowly.
"—i wanted to end things with her but—" you thought you were attentive enough but you're taken aback by ellie's big hands resting on your thighs, her face dangerously close to yours. you steal a small glimpse at her tired eyes piercing you through before continuing. her being so close causes your breath to shorten, you're hoping your all that she can't see your chest lifting.
"—she apologised now, so we're good," you say. ellie's eyes widen in disbelief, slightly tilting her head.
"are you serious?" she scoffs, her eyes shut close before searching for answers in yours. you nod and watch ellie drop her head in disappointment, followed by several scoffs and sighs.
"no you're not," she says under her breath, disappointment slowly spiralling into exasperation. ellie can't tolerate this any longer. whether it is your dumb decisions or your inability to see your worth, she won't take this anymore. and it might be selfish to get angry at you for not seeing her more than just a friend, but she did decide on a whim while cooking that this is the day where she finally tells you. however the manner things are progressing for now seem to be reaching a dead end.
"i have to reply though," you mumble, but ellie's furrowed eyebrows insinuate you to feel insecure about your decision.
"you don't," ellie says, as an auburn hair strand looses itself from her split ponytail. her arm reaches for your phone, but you hold it up by reflex, you didn't expect her to grab for your phone. however, you forget that you're the one sitting and she'd just have to stand up straight to get your phone, so you rapidly throw your back onto the mattress, arms far away, she surely won't be able to get your phone now.
"fuck, you can't be—" ellie hesitates, and you smile triumphantly, until you feel something weighting you down. your eyes widen in realisation, did ellie just climb on top of you? your body's brush now and then against each other while she's trying to reach for your phone. you're about to turn to the side when you feel ellie's strong hands hold your wrist down, making it impossible for you to move. for a minute, you forget why you wanted to turn away as you loose yourself in her sage green eyes. and that's when realisation hits you, you're under her, at the mercy of her big, strong arms. ellie doesn't keep eye contact for long, her eyes are fixated on stealing your phone, your eyes are focused on her jaw line. you're being held down, her knees restricting your upper body from the sides, her chest alarmingly close to your face. your grip around your phone softens, your too distracted by her presence pressing and holding you down.
you hear ellie whisper a 'finally' before you're eye to eye again. ellie was too busy taking your phone away and only notices now how close the two of you are. your chests lightly brush against each other, ellie still pinning you down to the bed. her grip tightens around your wrist as she thinks about the way you're still so caught up with your girlfriend, but the fact that she has your full attention for once overrides all the anger she bottled up. you gulp down and break away from her gaze, looking to the side, where she's holding you down.
"what happened to your finger?" you finally break the silence, earning a low chuckle from ellie. she's breathing right onto your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
you watch ellie's lip move, form words, pressing against each other softly.
"you sure you wanna text your girlfriend?" the last words pull you out of the daze her lips put you in, she surely must've said something important. you need to focus. you have to ignore that your body is screaming to be held, to be touched.
the thought of ellie touching you has never crossed your mind until... now. this very thought makes you want to adjust your lower body, arching your back slightly.
ellie can't help but notice all the movement happening below her. she's never been this close to you. and knowing she has your undivided attention all to herself, she can't hold back any longer.
her chest bumps against yours as she slightly moves up, her hand reaching for your chin, holding it in between her thumb and bandaged index finger. you're forced to hold eye contact with her, her breath tickling your face. your chest doesn't even rise anymore, only falling lower and lower until the movement travels to your lower back.
it's hard to breathe and it's hard to think, you feel your eyes wander from her green eyes to her lips.
"do i have something on my lips?" ellie asks, while looking down on you.
"no?" you're confused, finally pulled out of trance. she tilts your head to the side, at which you sharply inhale.
"you're staring," ellie whispers into your neck, the sensation insinuates you to hold your breath. you see a smile creep up her face from the corner of your eye, your heartbeat must've dropped to your abdomen at this very sight. all your morals and values must have left you on this night, because you want nothing more than ellie. she always directs you to make the right decision, so you want to believe that she will stop you from pursuing your inappropriate thoughts. with your free hand you reach for the hem of ellie's t-shirt, holding onto it desperately.
"ellie," you say out of breath. something about the way you called for her name made her lose it all, the breathlessness, your voice, the feeling of your body under hers.
her narrowed eyes fill with desperation, hunger, and lust. the sight of you underneath her tingles on her fingertips, ready to roam your body.
ellie takes a deep breath, lifting your face by your chin. she observe your lips carefully as she traces the outlines with her thumb.
"can i?" ellie finally asks, her eyes nervously looking for a place to rest on. you look up to her through your lashes, your grip tightening on her t-shirt. she makes you feel so needed, so incredibly wanted. your mind tells you to put an end to this but the feeling growing in between your thighs can't be ignored any longer. you shut your eyes close, then take one more look at ellie.
her arms could hold you up without struggling, her hands look so sturdy, she could touch you just the way you need her to.
sharply inhaling, you nod, and a smile creeps up her face. and you still feel said smile as she presses her lips against yours.
you didn't know that such a gentle kiss left you eager for more, and you find your hands entangled in her hair, frantically holding onto ellie.
the way your hands speak for what's going on on your mind makes ellie's blood rush through her veins, the soft fabric of your top rubbing up against her arm drives her insane as your skin is exposed every now and then.
ellie's hands glide over your body as her lips devour you impatiently. the sensation of her fingertips linger and you can't keep up any longer. she wants more of you, sloppy kisses emphasise that her attention has shifted from your lips to your body.
you can't help but notice her t-shirt riding up every so often, abdomen exposed.
"fuck," ellie groans, your bottom lip tugged in between her teeth. her hands finally have found a place to rest, a little under your chest, cupping your breasts. her gentle eyes meet yours, pressing her lips to a thin line before speaking.
"can i take your shirt off?" ellie's voice is slightly raspy and it's just enough to worsen the pressure in between your thighs. you squeeze them tightly, earning raised eyebrows from ellie.
"only if you take yours off too," you shoot back, because you can't be doing the wrong thing one-sidedly. however, didn't you want to end things with your girlfriend? she was practically an ex by now, you would've told her soon enough.
ellie sits up, her inner thighs pressing against your waist.
"oh? then, take your bra off too," ellie says, as she trails kisses on your neck, hot, slow and wet. you slightly arch your neck while biting down a moan. this is getting too heated for your own comfort and you can see yourself making noises only a few instances away, this needs to stop.
but ellie keeps on sucking, biting and licking your neck, making it impossible to keep quiet. and to make matters worse, she pushes her thigh all the way up against your aching spot, resulting you to softly moan.
"shit, didn't know texting your girlfriend back included moaning for me," ellie spits, the bitter taste of her fury still hasn't left her tongue. you're taken aback by her words but the sensation on your neck is keeping you in a trance you can't break away from. ellie's had enough of waiting, so she switches position with you, making you sit on top of her lap. she lifts your t-shirt, every inch of exposed skin is followed by hungry kisses until the shirt is off of you. you don't necessarily like sitting on top, too many vulnerable spots to be explored. ellie's rough hands glide down the sides of your upper body until they comfortably rest above your hips. her fingers graze over your body making breathing impossible, you feel it all the way down your lower abdomen.
and as if her big sturdy hands roaming over your body wasn't enough, she reaches for your back, undoing your bra with one hand.
you watch her smirk cockily as the straps of your bra fall to the sides, exposing your shoulders, and more importantly your chest. ellie bites down her lip as she cups your breasts, giving them a good, firm squeeze before locking eyes with you.
"you're tits look so fucking perfect," she groans, letting the palm of her hand brush against your hard nipples while ellie feels your hips tilt to the back at the touch of your skin, back arched for a moment only. she then pinches them and teases you even more, so you try to stop her and you reach out for her hand. however, you mistakenly grab her tattooed forearm, grasping it firmly to push her away from you. ellie chuckles at your unfortunate attempt to break away from her.
"you want them inside of you?" she teases, while breathing hot air onto your nipples. your eyes widen in surprise, when have you implied that? you suddenly feel heat creep up your neck, panic written all over your face. in response, ellie points to the forearm you've been digging your nails into.
"oh," you say, rapidly drawing your hands in.
"no, it's fine," she says while putting your arms around her, lifting you slightly up to lay you on her bed. her fingers are hooked on your waistband while taking your pants off. you've never seen anyone look this hot taking pants off, loose hair strands covering her face, you can't tell her facial expression.
all you see is her muscular shoulders and arms flexing while she undresses you.
you realise that wearing grey underwear will be the death of you as you hear ellie laugh lowly. you sense her blowing hot air against your clit, oh god is she a tease, you think to yourself.
"so fucking wet and i haven't even touched you? would love to hear your girlfriend's opinion on this," ellie scoffs, while observing the hot mess you are.
"ellie, for fucks sake i'm—"
"you're what?" eyebrows raised, hands resting on your thighs. you take a deep breath. talking about this while you're about to do it is not just incredibly anticlimactic but also immensely nerve wrecking. her eyes are like a ticking bomb, the longer you keep her waiting the more the disappointment grows, her gentle eyes turning tired.
"i'm ending things with her," you finally say.
"you surely will after today," ellie responds, her fingertip firmly pressing on your clit, only fabric separating her from your skin.
you gasp and your stomach rises almost immediately at the pressure you feel, causing you to squeeze your thighs tightly together. however, ellie slips her rough hand in between them, mouthing an 'open' towards your direction which you deemed useless since ellie opened your legs forcibly on her own. she holds one of your thighs down while pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your throbbing, wet clit. she holds two fingers out, gliding them over you to moisturise them before sliding them inside of you. the sensation of her fingers inside of you causes you to arch your back, throw back your head and dig your nails into her scalp.
"easy, love," she whispers, her fingers curved inside of you. ellie starts off slow, with every thrust you exhale shortly, until they turn into soft moans. her unexpectedly breathing against your clit makes you go insane, you feel the sensation give you goosebumps all over you body.
your body leaves ellie mesmerised, the way you move at her touch worsens her need to keep you all to herself, to devour you. she never imagined you to be this gorgeous, this attractive. she wants more of you and desperately wants the taste of you on her tongue. and not a second later, ellie made up her mind, she adjusts herself and pulls your panties further to the side, having full view of you.
"gorgeous," she mutters before crashing onto your clit, letting her tongue slowly slide to the top before making her way back down again. you pull at her hair in reaction, your other hand gripping her bed sheets. ellie moves the tip of her tongue up and down before tugging your clit in between her lips softly, sucking it in.
your moans become shaky and her sucking becomes more intense. you feel your whole body tense up as she presses her parted lips lightly around you, her tongue slowly flicking your clit inside of her mouth. she then lets go of you, you hold your breath.
you're numbed by the sensation and can't tell what's going on, you either feel her fingers pump inside of you or her tongue absolutely devouring you. you can't keep up any longer and ellie doesn't even leave space for a moment to breathe or think, you only feel, and that deeply.
all you hear are the wet noises you make against ellie's tongue and her grunts that unexpectedly turn you on. nails digging into her hair, back arched to the ceiling and your mind so far gone that all your responses to ellie's teasing questions are mindless moans, you feel her push even harder inside of you, causing you to jolt. ellie grins onto your clit as she notices your throbbing take on a slow, rhythmic pace, your insides clasping around her fingers in said rhythm. your hips move in circles, you desperately want to come, you've never felt this good.
and ellie keeps her thrusts consistent, just as the movement of her tongue, only increasing the speed of it. the taste of you sends her to another dimension, she already knows that this will leave her hungry for more. and so your back shoots up, forcing your hip all the way down and clutching around ellie's fingers, a sharp, but loud moan escaping your mouth. content with her work, ellie plants a kiss on your clit, your body shuddering in response. she slowly removes her fingers, your body shivers once more.
you're still in a haze, but ellie hovering over you pulls you out of it, her glistening lips are mesmerising. you see her lose strands sticking to her forehead, a few pearls of sweat on her well built arms. ellie observes your eyes, the way you look so gorgeous in the dimmed light worries her that she might do more.
"good job," she whispers into your neck, goosebumps spreading across your skin. you mutter a 'thank you' which makes you realise you're thanking her for all the wrong reasons. she lays down beside you and holds her right arm out, suggesting you to rest your head on it. you scoot closer, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathes.
"thank you for... the past few days," you say quietly into her chest. ellie scoffs shortly, raises her right arm to the back of your head and pats you. only now you notice that she has taken her shirt off, you don't recall that happening but you surely don't mind the view. you then feel ellie reach out for something, your phone in her hand.
"now text your girlfriend back and make sure to let her know that i'm here."
a/n: hello sorry for taking so long to update, was busy with exams, i was on renee rapp's concert as well (she's so attractive oh god) and yes. enjoy my first attempt at smut :)
341 notes · View notes
pippin-katz · 26 days
Text
The Awardist - Nicholas Galitzine & Taylor Zakhar Perez
I have to write down the best bits and record my thoughts while listening to this because I am completely losing my mind over what is our first real interview with the boys that was recorded in real time.
27:55 - right off the bat we got a great inside joke/reference from the host that had me cackle
28:19 - taylor being happy to see their faces and nicholas immediately shutting him down like "well i'm not happy to see taylor's face"
28:40 - taylor joking about putting a post-in note over nick's face lmfao
29:30 - the way they don't want to talk over each other, it's giving alex's bedroom flashbacks
29:40 - nick being like "oh! oh, it's good!" when dipping into the online response when the movie released lmfao 😆
30:33 - the silence following the social media question where they were apparently nodding followed by taylor saying they were texting each other like "mate" "mate" back and forth
31:20 - THEY TALKED ABOUT THE SIGNING WARS
31:44 - nicholas calling taylor "this little fucker" had me dying cause me and @meraki-yao were literally referring to him as that in our conversation on ig yesterday
32:00 - nicholas genuinely asking taylor "what possessed you to do this?"; it's giving storage closet in the children's hospital vibes when henry's like "why do you dislike me?"
33:04 - "take it nick" immediately upon being asked the dense question regarding fans reacting to their portrayals of henry and alex, and the way that nicholas laughs and stutters makes me think that taylor totally did that on purpose to mess with him lmfao
34:00 - taylor stopping to talk to fans regardless of where he is or where he's going and specfically mentioning how meaningful it was that people have said *TW* they were contemplating suicide when they read the book/watched the movie and that it helped them 🥺
35:40 - the host referred to the film as "a coming out story", which i don't really agree with as a label because the coming out portion is an added piece of their relationship as two public figures, but their love is the actual story
36:40 - nicholas referring to the film as "wholesome and funny" made me smile so much because it truly is wholesome
37:18 - not the host making the "top to bottom" joke 😭
37:58 - nicholas and taylor have talked about their friendship with each other and how they instantly clicked; nick knew within a few minutes of rehearsal that taylor was "his buddy" 🥺
38:41 - catch me squaring up with everyone who has made nicholas self conscious and self deprecating about doing so much intimacy work on the screen that he refers to it as "basically his thing" like that's all he's recognized for; i am so ready to punch some motherfuckers 😡
39:10 - "it's so fun now, seeing my mate at all these awards and stuff"; catch me fucking crying
39:24 - not taylor misremembering the "nicholas or joey" question as "who was the better kisser"; he totally combined the "is nicholas a good kisser" question with the "who has your heart tonight" question
40:05 - taylor talking about matthew's background in theatre and how they got to actually rehearse with each other; i will never stop being insanely grateful that matthew is a theatre guy
40:55 - the way i said "oh my god" out loud because i was so excited by the question
41:14 - improvised the "physicality" of the store room; i.e. they just fell on top of each other and clamored around 😂
41:32 - the way i literally gasped so hard that i started coughing when nicholas called taylor "tay", i am not even fucking joking, that was so fucking cute 😭
43:42 - fucking wheezed upon realizing where the question going
44:02 - the knowing way taylor was like "i will take this one" lmfao
45:10 - not me going so red from second hand embarrassment 🫣
45:44 - taylor bringing the jockstrap that nicholas wears in bottoms, and nicholas immediately adding "i won't even go into mary & george" 😂
47:51 - taylor finishing nicholas' sentence about matthew's direction for the cake scene; sharing a braincell lol
48:36 - taylor's dog passed away the night of the first day of filming like wow, that fucking sucks 🥺😭
49:05 - "everyone's looking at me with these sad eyes" made me so sad but then taylor said "do you want some tea?" in a terrible british accent lmfao
49:50 - nicholas complimenting and boosting taylor's performance while having such a hard time emotionally 🥺
50:49 - taylor bringing up running through the museum; i can hear the smile in his voice while talking about it 😭
51:28 - they filmed the kensington palace fight and the red room the week after nicholas got covid
52:40 - oh my god, the way you can hear nick grinning as he throws taylor under the bus for the sequel question 😂
53:30 - taylor wants a second book to base the sequel off of
54:03 - taylor used they/them pronouns for casey!! see? he knows, it was totally nerves
55:20 - it felt like it was over too soon, i desperately need more of them PLEASE 😭
This is the greatest thing that's happened in like, a month for me lmfao I am literally begging for more people to interview the boys about RWRB, I am so fucking desperate for more content of the two of them together. They are everything to me 🥺
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st4rg4z3 · 8 months
Text
─── ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ, ᴅᴏʟʟ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ?
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cw: just fluff + toji owning up to his mistakes
pairings : bf!toji x gfbimbo!reader
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Toji scratched his head in frustration as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sulk in the corner of the room. Your pouty lips and crossed arms made it clear that you were angry with him. Yet, he couldn't quite wrap his mind around what he had done this time.
Y/N was a beautiful girl, infamous for your bimbo persona. Though you had a reputation for being hazy-brained, Toji had always looked beyond that. He just saw the gentle heart beneath all your misguided choices and was drawn to your carefree nature
He was always this cold hearted guy when you guys first met but after a while he just turned into this big puppy that goes wherever you go.
“What chu’ sighing over there for? Come here, what’s wrong doll face?" Toji patted his lap — asking you sit on it. He expected you to follow right away but got confused when you just looked at him, shaking your head no.
You gave him a disdainful look, your perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against your phone screen. "You should know what's wrong, Toji. You're not paying attention to me." you huffed, crossing your arms.
Confusion washed over Toji's face. "Baby, I’ been spending so much time with you lately. We even went to the movies yesterday and had dinner together." he said, scratching his head.
You rolled your eyes dramatically. "It's not about spending time, Toji. It's about the quality of the time."
Toji chuckled, realizing that this sulking episode was going to require him to dig deeper than usual. “Don’t laugh!” you said, sulking some more.
"’Kay don’t roll your eyes at me, sweetheart. I’m sorry, can you just explain what you mean, huh? pretty baby?” Toji said before standing up, walking towards you then sat criss-cross infront of you.
You huffed loudly. "I mean, you're not treating me like a princess anymore. You're not showering me with compliments or planning grand gestures of love. It's like you don't care about me anymore."
Toji was taken aback by your words. He thought back to their early days when he would surprise you with flowers, and shower you with affection. But as yiur relationship had progressed, he had assumed you didn't need such extravagant displays of love anymore.
"Doll, I thought you appreciated the simple moments, the everyday gestures," Toji said gently.
Toji stood up before pulling you up, carrying you in his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist while you arms are wrapped around his neck, he then walked towards the couch to sit the both of you down.
"I’ been tryin’ to show my love in other ways, like spendin’ quality time with you and supporting you in your dreams and a’know you know that, baby.” Toji placed his hands on your cheeks, caressing it gently.
Your pout softened a little, but your eyes still held a trace of disappointment. Toji realized that he had made a grave mistake. He had unknowingly bought into the stereotype of who he thought you were. He had assumed that all you cared about were superficial things, failing to truly understand your desires and needs.
You continued, your voice softer now, Toji, I may enjoy being happy-go-lucky, but that doesn't mean I don't long for romance and appreciation.”
Toji reached out and gently took your hand in his. "I know and I'm sorry, doll. I never meant to overlook your emotions or needs. I promise to be more attentive and show you the love and appreciation you deserve, ‘kay?”
You smiled, your eyes sparkling with hope. "Thank you, Toji. I believe in us, and I know we can grow and learn together."
Toji smiled and nodded before pulling you in for a kiss. He was just always so used with you being so bubbly and so happy, he never wanted to make you sad ever again.
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mxqdii · 8 months
Note
angst to fluff matt sturniolo but he's stubborn about talking it out with reader so it lasts long to the point where reader gets frustrated yk? maybe this is too specific 😭 also if u do this, do it however!!
did you mean it? - m.s
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pairings: matt sturniolo x reader
summary: matt accidentally says "i love you" and just pretends it never happened, leaving the reader sad and conflicted.
warning(s): angst, confession, crying? (idk help 😭)
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"this is why i fell in love with you" he says and i freeze
he loves me?
i look at him, blank expression on my face
(which is definitely not how my mind is reacting)
his face turns bright red
"you-" i start but get interrupted
"i didn't mean it like that" he says and i feel my heart drop
"oh, okay.." i say, almost in a whisper
my heart just shattered into a million pieces. matt, my boyfriend, the love of my life, doesn’t mean it like that.
we continue making dinner, the awkward silence filling the room.
suddenly nick and chris come downstairs, and for some reason i'm actually thankful for it.
they start talking to us but my mind is elsewhere, maybe it's my fault. i mean, i didn't say it back fast enough which could've caused matt to second guess, or he just didn't mean it, or-
"y/n you there?" nick says and i snap out of my thoughts
"yeah! yeah im here.." i say with a dry tone and a short smile
i'm too upset to be cheerful right now.
we finish making dinner and finish eating, which is when me and matt decide to watch a movie.
throughout the film, i noticed how matt started acting like nothing happend
i hate it.
i feel like we should at least talk about it, or like.. mention it again?
maybe it wasn't that big of a deal
maybe i should let it go
or maybe, matt is being stubborn.
"matt" i say, abruptly
"yes love?" he says and i feel shivers go down my spine
do i really wanna ruin this? now?
i just am so in my head i cannot leave things like that.
"i- uh.." my words get caught in my throat and i feel like i can't get out what i wanna say
maybe it's for the better.
"i'm gonna go, home- yeah." i say
"oh, okay." he answered
i quickly grab my keys and jacket, saying bye to nick and chris, then giving matt a quick hug and immediately leaving.
fuck fuck fuck, what do i even do.
i get home and feel a sense of lonliness, emptiness fill me.
i can't help but burst into tears
i messed up
i don't know why my mind immediately went to it being my fault, i guess that's just my instinct, matt was actually the one who noticed i always assumed things were my fault, so he would always reassure me thing's weren't.
after that whole situation earlier though, things are different this time.
the thought of matt makes me cry harder.
minutes pass, then hours, and suddenly its been a day.
it's currently 10pm, the last time i heard from matt was yesterday, when i left his house actually..
i've been crying all day just watching TV
i am a mess.
suddenly i get a knock on the door
i wipe my tears, running to the bathroom to make sure my nose and eyes arent red anymore (which thankfully arent)
i look fine, i look like i've been fine.
perfect.
i run back to the door, quickly opening it, knowing i've kept whoever waiting long enough
matt.
i go speechless, like, i literally don't have the words, and even if i did, i'm not sure what i'd say.
"you're a mess" he says, breaking the silence
"i'm not a mess" i exclaim and he looks down with a laugh
"i can tell you've been crying" he adds on, confirming his 'i'm a mess' comment.
fuck, this boy knows me too well.
i open the door wider, gesturing him to come in.
"so.. why are you here.." i ask and he turns around to face me
"because i'm stubborn and you're frustrated." he replies, causing me to look at him in confusion
"i've never lied to you, until last night. i do love you y/n, i should've said it but i just- i couldn't. and then i got scared and tried to ignore it, causing me to be distant. but every second we didn't talk i was thinking about it- i was thinking about you."
all this information is too much for my slow brain to process
"so you- you meant it? you love me?" i repeat and he steps closer to me
"yes y/n, i love you" he states and i smile
he puts his hands on my waist and kisses me
we pull away, still inches away from eachother
"i love you too matt."
TAGLIST:
@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm
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tomorrcwz · 2 months
Text
˗ ˏ ˋ 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓
Pairings : Logan Sargeant x reader (platonic)
in which Logan and you have a day off work in London and decide to go to build a bear, creating each a stuffy for the other as you did as children.
— only friend i need series
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"Come on Logs, live a little", you said, pressing the blonde to agree to your spontaneous idea of the day. "it's a fantastic idea, I always have those, and i still can't believe you've lived here for what? Two years now? and still didn't do it. shame, mate."
Said man, who sat opposite of you, took another bite of his somewhat healthy breakfast choice his trainer would've had a wet dream about, all while starring in disbelief at you, the one who's bright smile focused on the plate of waffles, covered in strawberries and cream.
He shallowed, opening his mouth to disagree with the idea but nothing came to his mind, letting you grin in excitement. "I— well, fine, but don't you think we're a bit too old for build a bear, y/n?"
"Buh, since when do we do age appropriate stuff?", you questioned, thinking back about the many times you rode rollercoasters for children, watched movies in the cinema for zero to six years old and did other things people considered then to be made for children. "it's cute, saw a tiktok about it."
"You and your tiktok obsession — when did you even watch it? We were out all day yesterday."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Are you that old, sargeant? You were in the gym after we had lunch at mine."
"Yeah true", the man sheepishly agreed, remembering the cardio and weight session, before his blue eyes brightened, signaling you that he had an idea — for the better or worse, you never knew with him.
"Please enlighten me, what's on your mind?"
Logan's smile widened, pupils blooming. "How about I build you a stuffy and you for me like we did when we were younger?"
"Yes please, that has to the best idea you've had in a while, Logs", you giggled. "Let's eat and then we'll make our way there, its in that mall not so far away from here."
With that, you both ate in silence, listing to the gossip around you — an older woman complained to her son about back pain, a couple fought about having another baby (the woman didn't want another one while the man was adapt on growing the family) and a man in his forties tried to flirt with the waiter —, Logan and you sent each other looks and quirked eyebrows, whenever the topic grew hotter and juicier.
As you shallowed the last bite of your delicious breakfast, Logan already waved the waiter over to pay for today's expenses — since both of you worked, you took turns with the payment, even though the racer tried to take the check whenever you were eating in a somewhat bougier place, saying that he made more and wanted to be a gentleman which would get him a snort out of you or a slap on the arm. not that it hurt him, you liked to think the hits had to be gently because of his worth for Williams.
After the blonde had paid, he impatiently stood up, holding out his hand for helping you to stand up. "Let's go, y/n, we don't have all day."
You let go off his hand, pressing a finger to your forehead. "Don't know why I keep up with you, you're acting like a kid in a hardware store. i'm praying for Alex and his patience."
"Hey, I'm not that bad", your friend shrieked, pulling your head into am armlock to rub your hair which he knew you didn't enjoy at all — you weren't a pet, you'd tell him.
"You're a shithead, have I ever said that to you?", you grumbled as you freed yourself from his strong grasp.
"And you're what? a Saint?", a snort escaped the man's throat, pushing you lightly forward to continue your way to the destination. "cause I don't think so, you're as bad as me, that's why we're friends."
Once again you grumbled under your breath but decided to just walk, letting Logan rant about his trip to New York with Williams and the training camp that was held in Miami.
When you arrived at the mall, you've heard all about his recent work experience, Alex's stories about his holidays and a new recipe Logan's mom came up (it didn't sound but why was she adapt to add pumpkin to the dish?).
"Look logs, there it is", you pointed out, gaze hazy with childish excitement. You intertwined your hand with his, dragging him inside the colourful store to the yet lifeless bodies of stuffies — there was the classic Teddy in a few shades of brown, forest and savanna animals as well as movie characters like yoda, stich and hedwig, Harry Potter's beloved owl.
you truly were in paradise. "Oh look, it's an eagle, that's so American, so you", a booming laughter fell from your lips, winning the attention of a mother daughter duo next to you, causing you to blush and Logan to pinch your side.
alas, your friend had enough of you, so therefore he left your side to explore the many options the shop had in stock. You didn't see his pick as your only matter was to fulfil the task of finding the right stuffy for logan and putting it in clothing.
In the end you decided on a cute black alpaca and put it in a white cargo trousers combined with a multicoloured party shirt and some blue jeans jacket, letting yourself be inspired by the clothing styles of Logan and George Russell's invention of white pants and a williams team shirt as a williams driver's standard uniform — you'd switch up the party shirt as soon as you'll get a hang out of sewing to make a mini williams shirt but for now the alpaca was going to own the shirt as did logan in the summer when you both went out for a wild night back home.
As you put the heart and the small voice box thingy in the stuffy, a small happy tear rolled down your cheek; you chose to say two things: the first one was the viral meme of him being American, silently screaming rwahh what the fuck is a kilometre and the second was a sweet message to cheer him up, hopefully, whenever he felt bad and you'd be out of his reach — a small fracture of yourself, reminding him of his greatness and uniqueness, and that he was loved and cheered. You were a sentimental being, no shame whatsoever, even though your friend sometimes liked to tease you about it, causing you to clap back — it was just that kind of friendship where you could let lose, be yourself without further worries nor feeling embarrassed or awkward.
When Logan finally got to you — you had waited for him outside of the mall, leaning on the car as you had texted him, and bought two cups of coffee at the small café on the opposite side of the build a bear shop— you gave him the box, containing the alpaca, wearing a silly expression on your face, which Logan mirrored.
"Let's see, if you still know me after seeing the whole wide world without me", you joked, silly smile morphing in a naughty grin on your lips.
"As if I could forget you, stinks."
"Maybe I should return it, you don't deserve it—"
"Hey, I don't do anything wrong", he exclaimed, making grabby hands to get the stuffy.
"Mister Sargeant, you are a liar and a very bad one at that", you tsked him. "Haven't we already said that we refer to call me stinks? the name should be buried six foot deep next to—"
"Don't you dare, y/n."
"I definitely should tweet the nickname, your colleagues would eat it up, don't you think so?", you giggled gleefully, remembering how you called him as you were two young children, running around the neighbourhood to terrorise them.
"And that's why I don't take you with me", he mumbled under his breath, holding out his hand where the stuffy box hang off. "Here we go, silly, hope you like it."
Slowly, you opened the box and the sight of your favourite animal greeted you, wearing the cutest hogwarts robes of your house. "Aw Logs, it's so pretty and fluffy. I love it." Gently you pressed you face against the small head of the stuff toy, enjoying the cozy texture of it and closed your eyes, salivating the moment.
After a moment, the blonde man enclosed you in a hug. "the alpaca's lovely, y/n/n. Best idea we had in a while."
"yeah true", you agreed, returning the hug.
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user2772636 · 2 months
Text
Douzième Fille
12th girl
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××《☆》××
Experimenting is bound to give you attention. Magazines are trending, and not just in the women's department. A one-eyed boy who has recently been caught with something vulgar has respect for women. How surprising.
===
Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: boys being boys (worse than b4), swearing, one-sided anger, reference to a movie (Hot Rod), love triangle again (new character??), fluff (finally?!?!?!)
===
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Chapter four: Flashy Magazines
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I flip through page by page the new magazine I bought. It was imported from america, and the second I heard of it, I ran to the nearest booth.
That was yesterday. Today is Monday morning. I woke up a little earlier to scroll through my said magazine and look for inspiration. I thought I'd do something different. A bit more bold.
Hair bumps and bangs. A style well worn by Priscilla Beaulieu, the speculated lover of Elvis Presley. The magazine was filled with her.
I grab my scissors, lifting my head to look into my bathroom mirror. I read the directions on the magazine, parting a small section at the middle of my hair, pulling it in front of my eyes.
I take a deep breath in. A click from the scissors is heard. Not half bad, I say to myself. I shag it a little, smiling to myself.
I continue to read the instructions to Priscilla's hair bump, deciding to make it just a small bump, curling the ends, then adding hair spray to keep it all intact. Once I was done , I added a pair of pearl earrings.
There's a new dress waiting for me in my closet. It was a present from my parents. A knee-length flowy dress with a boat neckline and a thin strap belt, all in the colour of watermelon red.
I put it on, patting down the skirt, and grab my kitten heels. I pray that I don't get caught. This is probably how Michèle felt on the first day of school.
I take one last look in the mirror. I looked older, like a proper lady. I straighten my back and smile strainedly. I breathe out slowly.
I grab my satchel and coat, then head out of my flat. Walking to school, eyes follow me. From my lovely neighbour to the men smoking cigarettes in the street. I don't mind them and continue to make my way to school.
Once I get there, I see Laubrac walking away from Michèle. I walk up to her and put on a smile.
"Michèle. How have you been?" I lean in to hug her.
"Wow, Y/N. You're stunning. You look like you were made to be in movies." Michèle laughs, and I laugh with her.
"Don't go that far." We smile at each other and make it through the gate. Once again, eyes are on me, younger this time.
We look towards the bathroom, seeing Felbec run towards it, then get rejected access through. A tall frame pushes him away, and I knew exactly who it was. I furrow my eyebrows.
A boy then comes running through the gate, shouting out how he has the money. I notice Annick as she suddenly walks away. When he makes it there, the school bell rings. I laugh, watching him move around disappointed.
××《☆》××
"Literary salons are almost always hosted by women. Madame de Sèvignè, Madame de Lafayette." Our teacher says as he leans on his table with his arms.
The lecture fades, and all I hear is the tapping of my heels on the hardwood floor.
"Dupin." Our teacher calls out. I turn around to take a look, but my eyes lock with one. I squint at Descamps, then shift my eyes to Dupin.
"As you won't stop talking, you seem well-versed on the subject. Can you share your thoughts on the salons with us?" Dupin stands, and I smile softly, seeing his embarassed state.
I turn my head back to the front, but a stare stays on me, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I ignored it at first, and then it started to get annoying. So I turned, and I saw him, and he was smiling. He's smiling. Every time I look at him, either he looks dead inside (though, in my opinion, no dead person could look that pretty.), or he's smiling. And that's what he's doing. He's smiling.
How I wish I could wipe it off.
××《☆》××
My ears pound as I hear Ms. Giraud's voice. I might go deaf, but I keep my composure. The bell rings, and we're finally dismissed.
I hear rushed shuffling. Ms. Giraud calls out to the boy.
"Are you in a rush, Lamazière?" Ms. Giraud yells. I notice it's the same boy that ran to the bathroom with money in his hand.
He gets punished, and I laugh quietly. I grab my things, rushing up to the girls.
"Hey, I need to go to the bathroom. Continue walking without me." They nod, and we part ways.
After using the toilet, I look at myself in the mirror. I never expected that. How conscious I'd be of my looks, my movements, and my habits.
Maybe it comes with the fact I dressed up. But for what, I start to wonder. I don't know why I dressed up in the first place. I know I said for a change, but is that really all?
A flash of an eye comes to mind. I quickly shake it off. No way. Not him.
I clear my throat, then grab my things. I hastily walk out the bathroom, suddenly needing fresh air. As I make it to the hallway of the stairwell, footsteps slow down, and eyes follow me. I stop in my tracks.
I scanned through them, what face they were wearing while looking at me. I look down on myself. I still looked presentable, so what were they looking at?
I start to walk, my eyes following the faces of the boys. Each step I take down feels slower. One flight finished, and I stop glancing at them. My feet tap on the porcelain floor of the stairs as I keep my head down.
One flight left, a tall frame walks into the school. He turns to the stairs, and I stop. Descamps stares at me. I stare at him. He then looks up and sees plenty of eyes on me. I see his jaw clench.
He claps his hands. I flinch at the echo of it.
"Will you boys keep staring, or will I go shopping for a new eye with all of yours?" This gets them moving. The stairwell is noisy again.
I turn my head back to Descamps, and I glare. Hard. I walk towards him, and then I'm reminded of our height difference. I crane my neck upward.
"I could've handled myself, you know?" I squint my eyes, and all he does is stare. Why is he just staring? Can't we fight already? I feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
"Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna sa-"
"You're beautiful." I barely even heard it. But I did. Then I acted like I didn't.
"What?" I stutter out, flushed cheeks redder than before.
"You're miserable. You clearly needed my help." I scoff, the comforting warmth I felt quickly replaced with boiling anger.
"Just leave me alone, Descamps." I walk away, and into the courtyard.
Who does he think he is? Some knight in shining armour? He's more like a thief in the streets. But then no thief could be as annoying, as dreadful, as smiley as him. That stupid smile, and those stupid words, and his stupid face. Stupid, stupid face. Sometimes I just wanna grab it and-
I stop in my tracks. There's a line in front of the boys' bathroom. What would they be lining up for? I see a mop of blonde hair and framed eyes. Applebaum. He hasn't talked to me, hasn't said hi, and I always wonder if I'd done anything wrong.
But he's the past. I guess he just doesn't like me. It's too bad. I had high hopes for him. A whip of air pushes by me, and it's Descamps again. He's jogging towards the bathroom. He's collecting coins from them. Really, what's going on?
I look in front of me. Michèle and Simone are seated on the stairs. I sigh in relief. I sit beside them.
"I can't do this anymore. All the boys, they're dreadful. Why did I come here in the first place?" I groan. The girls watch me, amused.
"Because you moved here from Paris and-" I cut Simone off.
"Rhetorical." I mutter. She purses her lips shut.
Michèle clears her throat. "So, you think you'll get married?" I lift my head up.
"To who?" My eyes are wide open as well as my ears.
"Eugène. Simone's lover boy." I cover my mouth in shock.
"What? I thought you had a thing for-" Simone cuts me off this time.
"No. It's a little too soon for that." She answers Michèle's question. I mouth sorry. She nods.
"Aren't you worried he'll want to take things further?" Michèle asks Simone. I started to click the pieces together. I bite on my lip to hide my smile.
"I don't know." Simone smiles at the thought. "Can I have a bite? Thanks." She says as she grabs Michèle's apple and takes a bite from it.
"I hope I find a husband soon. So I can get out of my parents house." I nod at Michèle's statement.
"That's true. But hopefully, no one from here. I'd rather die." They laugh at my overreaction, but honestly, I might just die than marry anyone here.
Well, except for one, maybe. Who, I ask myself. Right. Who am I even talking about? My eyes drift to a one-eyed boy. No. Don't even think about it.
Descamps as a husband? I laugh to myself.
Sure, I can imagine him going to work, coming home, smoking a cigarette or two as he reads the news.
Lounging in the living room one lazy afternoon, shirt slightly unbuttoned and pants a bit loose. Eating breakfast with his family, cooking with his wife (who, for some reason, looks almost like me. Very weird.), kissing her shoulders as his arms wrap around her waist.
His scent, his soft lips, his large frame. Carrying his kids in his arms as he spins them around the backyard. Teaching his son how to catch, playing dolls with his daughter, taking a break on a bench, one arm on his thigh, and the other on me.
Me? I shake my head. No, not me. His wife. Certainly not me. I grimace at the thought. Why would I even?
I sigh deeply, frustratedly. These damn thoughts are infuriating, just like him.
"Happy New Year, Ms. Palladino." My trance gets cut off.
"You too, Sir." Simone responds. I clear my throat, composing myself.
Michèle calls out for her uncle and gets up. I wonder what she's going to do. I don't pay much mind as I scoot over to Simone.
"It's Jean Pierre, isn't it?" She flinches.
"What do you mean?" I roll my eyes at her response.
"You know what I mean. Eugène? It's definitely Jean Pierre." Her cheeks flush, and she drops her head.
"I'm happy for you, really." I smile as she lifts her head, hope in her eyes. My smile wavers a bit. "But how will you tell Michèle?"
Her eyes lose that hope, and she looks away.
"I don't know. He said we shouldn't because she'll never let us see each other again."
"But one day, you'll have to." I grab her hand and rub it gently. She sighs.
"I wish you luck." I whisper, then hug her. She hugs me back. Once we pull away, Michèle sits with us again.
"He didn't want to lend it to me. What does 'adult' mean." I raise my eyebrows and puff out my cheeks, clearly not wanting to answer her question.
Michèle looks around. "What's up with everyone today?"
"You only noticed now?" I chuckle.
"Come with me." Me and Simone get up, following Michèle. She walks and calls towards Pichon.
"What's going on in the bathroom?" Pichon pauses. Too long of a pause.
"Nothing." I squint at him. Obviously not nothing.
"Somethings been going on in there today."
"Not at all. Nothing's going on." Pichon tries to walk away, but I stop him with a palm to his chest.
"Really? Why did you react that way when you ran into Mr. Bellanger?" I start to talk.
"What do you mean?" This is getting annoying.
"Don't act dumb. We know you aren't." I snap at him. "Now, why was your face all red?"
"No. It's not red." I furrow my eyebrows, now really getting angry. I almost shove him before Michèle holds me back.
"Simone, is his face red?" I ask her.
"It's red. Very red." I look back at Pichon and raise my eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
"It's not. It's just my complexion." I try to lunge at him, but Michèle's hands are tight on me.
"So you're not gonna tell us?" Michèle calls out for him. I whip my arms off of Michèle's hold, and she's quick to let me go.
"Of course he won't." I glare at the back of his head.
The bell rings.
××《☆》××
Descamps' group walks into the class together. They're rushing a bit.
"And Applebaum?" One of them asks.
"He's gonna sprain something." Descamps answers. Sprain what? What are they doing in that bathroom anyway?
"He's gonna go deaf." Oh. A shiver runs down my spine as I gag. Gross.
I hear Michèle ask Simone something, probably about what the boys are talking about. I don't wanna tell her.
Ms. Couret walks in and greets us. We're granted to sit. The door opens.
"Didn't you hear the bell, Mr. Applebaum." I gag again seeing him. I should've known he was like everyone else. To believe I might've given him a chance. I grimace.
The boys whisper and laugh. There's a boiling in my stomach. Ms. Couret moves on to the topic.
"Do you know the Beatles?" This catches my attention. No one answers, until Pichon does.
"The British band?" Ms. Couret nods.
"Yes. Let's see if those names ring a bell." I shuffle on my seat, giving my full attention to the discussion.
I don't notice the boys passing around a magazine 'till it comes flying towards Michèle's table. I peek over, and in front of her lies a flashy magazine.
××《☆》××
"He said if we didn't give him a name, the class would get detention every Thursday." Pichon says as everyone huddles in to listen. I feel a warm frame over and behind me, but I ignore it, thinking it's just another classmate.
"Then we all get detention." Dupin states, as if it wasn't already obvious.
"The whole class." Pichon exclaims.
"Even the girls?" My brows furrow. What did we do to be blamed?
"Everybody." We all stop.
"That's not fair." Simone says, and I nod with her.
"Right. What did we do? It was you guys who were being perverts." I call out.
I get more frustrated when a chest bumps into me. It's the same frame I felt earlier. I turn around, and I'm met with Descamps.
"You. You were the ones selling the magazine and passing it around." I glare at him.
"You're disgusting. I don't want you near me." I turn again and bid a quick goodbye to the girls then head home.
"Pardine!" I hear Descamps call out. I roll my eyes and keep walking. Once we're in a quieter area, he grabs my arm and gently pushes me to a wall.
"Please. I swear I would never." I glare up at him.
"Then why were you passing it around?" I ask him, tilting my head up.
His pants fill my ears. It's worrying. I place a hand on his chest.
"Calm down." I state, the worry etched in my voice.
He relaxed under my touch, I felt it, the way his muscles stopped being tense. I kept my face hard.
"Now, explain." My voice comes out demanding.
"I needed some money. What better way to collect it quickly than when there's hundreds of prepubescent boys in one school?" I roll my eyes. I almost walk away before he cages me in the wall with his arms.
"Please. Just... listen. I needed money, okay? I wanted to save up for... for..." He stutters, and my brows crease more.
"For?" I raise my brows, expecting an answer.
"For... records. Yeah. For my mother." I squint at his answer.
"That still won't excuse the fact you're a pervert."
"No, I swear. I would never. I know you don't believe me, but I swear. I swear on my mothers life I would never. Not in school, not anywhere. I respect a woman way too much to do something like that."
"A woman? Who? Your mother?" My brain turns to different answers.
"Yes." He stuttering again. "Definitely, my mother." He pushes away from me, and I feel cold.
I hum. Then I look back up at him, eyes still squinted.
"I'll let it pass for now." I see his face fill with relief, and I almost laugh.
I walk away, but before I get too far, I hear him mutter.
"You look pretty." I turn around, shocked and confused.
"What did you say?"
"I said you look shitty. Goodbye, Pardine!" He calls out as he walks away in a rush. I scoff, then turn back around to walk home.
××《☆》××
I pet George, lounging on my bed, thinking of going out to run some errands. I get up and head to the kitchen.
Stuck to the fridge, I read my mother's shopping list. I get rid of the magnet and stick the note into my coat pocket. I glance at George, then the door, then George again.
I sigh. I pick him up, head to my door, and lock it. We go down the stairs. I place him in my bicycle basket. I make sure he's tucked in well, then ride to the farmers market.
Once I'm there, I glance at the shopping list again. Some vegetables, fruit, flour, etc. I walk past each stall, buying what's needed. Just then, a boy, somewhere my age, walks towards me.
"Hi." He seems confident. "I'm Callum. What's your name?"
I look at him up and down, and then the hand he reaches out for a hand shake. He's tall, but not too tall. Maybe five feet and ten inches. He has long, wavy brown hair, neatly brushed behind his ears. He has deep doe eyes and a smile on his face. I hesitate.
"Y/N." I slowly lift my hand and shake his. His smile widens.
"So, I have a project that requires a model, and when I saw you, I thought you'd be the perfect candidate. Not to be blunt about it, but you're beautiful." I blush at the sudden compliment.
"All you need to do is let me take a couple of photos, and I'll pay you, about... 300 franc?" I gape at the offer.
"Are you sure? Just for pictures?" They nod.
"Yes. Good transaction, yeah? If I win the project, the pictures will be displayed in the front of a car magazine. Is that alright with you?" I think again, but what's there to think about when there's 300 franc on the table?
"Deal." I shake hands Callum's hand, and he smiles wider.
"Good. Now, I'll take you to my car, and you can do a couple of poses in front of it." He led me to his car, and the second I saw the bright mint blue of it, my jaw hits the floor.
"This pretty one," Callum pats the front of the car. "is a 1955 Ford Thunderbird. Mint blue exterior, white top, and a mix of both for the interior. It has the brake horsepower of 193, and she's my most prized possession. She goes up to 23,069 kilometres. Very lovely, right?" He leans on the car, almost hugging it.
I cover my mouth, hiding my smile. He walks over to me, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling it away from my face.
"Keep that smile on, pretty lady. We need it for the pictures." He tilts his head towards the car. "Go on."
I walk slowly. Once I'm near the passengers door, I pose, and I see the flash of the camera.
"Get inside. Take a feel around." I walk to the other side of the car, opening the door and closing it once I'm in. I feel the leather of the wheel against my palm, and I scoff in awe. The camera flashes again.
"I didn't get to pose!" I laugh, slightly embarassed.
"You didn't need to. You're a natural." He snaps another photo, and I laugh again.
After taking a few photos and reviewing them, Callum finally chose one. It was me smiling at the camera with my hands on the wheels, windows rolled down.
He told me I looked perfect, which was, based on what he said, the first thing that came into his mind when he saw me.
The rest of the day, he accompanied me shopping and even offered me a ride around town in his car. I obviously couldn't say no.
He pulled the hood down, letting the wind flow through my hair as we drove in the roads, making it to the fields, stopping by for some gas, and then getting on the road again.
××《☆》××
Callum parks the car in front of his flat, which was only a few blocks away from mine. We decided to walk to my place instead of draining out the car, not before him telling me that it was absolutely fine for him to drive me directly home. When I said I needed my legs moving, he stopped pushing it and agreed.
He puts the hood back on, locking the door with his keys. He walks to my side.
"Good luck with the project." My hands are in my coat pockets as Callum walks me home. He smiles, then looks at me.
"Meeting you was luck itself. That means if you're in my pictures, I'll bring luck with me." I roll my eyes.
"Cheesy." We come to a stop infront of my flat's door.
"Well, this is it." I purse my lips, looking up at him.
"Yup. I guess we're here." His eyes sort of lose its spark. I worry.
"You okay?" I raise my eyebrows, concerned.
"I wanna see you again." He blurts out. "Is tomorrow okay? The results will come out, and I sort of want you to be there."
"Sure. I'll be there." I rub his arm reassuringly. He slowly lifts his hand to cup mine on his arm. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.
"Goodnight, Y/N." He smiles softly, lets go of my hand, and leaves. I stay in my place, unsure of what to do. When his frame disappears from my sight, I shiver. What was that?
I'm greeted by George as I get in my flat. My heart's beating out my chest, and I feel anxious. There's something in me. It doesn't feel so good. Some sort of regret. Why?
A boy. Not Callum. Someone else. Taller frame. Shorter hair. One eye. Fuck no. No way. I can't. I shouldn't. Why am I thinking about him?
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. 'I don't even call him by his first name.' Joseph Descamps. I feel indifferent calling him his first name. I'm not in terms with him like that. We aren't close enough for me to call him that.
Then suddenly, I want to. I want to call him Joseph. 'Why?' I wonder. Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. It feels nice on the tongue. Descamps is suddenly too long of a name. Joseph is fine. The name, I mean. Not him.
Then suddenly, again, it is. He is. 'No, he's not', but I want him to be. How do I get him to be? 'I can't do this. I really shouldn't.' But, oh, how much I want to.
'No.' I quiet my thoughts. 'No. Never. I won't do it.'
But I want to.
Fuck.
××《☆》××
The next morning, most of the boys are called to the principles office. I sigh in boredom, looking out the window.
"It certainly feels emptier today." Simone says, breaking the silence. I want to laugh, but I can't. I wanted to see the way Joseph's green cardigan looked on his wide frame longer.
I shake my head. I totally didn't get enough sleep last night with that thought popping in my head.
Though, that cardigan really suited him. Green really suits him. It makes him sort of glow. It's not like he doesn't already. Come to think of it, his hair glows, too. It was a bit messy. He probably rushed to school today. I wonder how soft it'll be against my fingers when I brush it off to look neater.
I remember how warm he was that day in the alley. He was so much taller, so he had to basically break his back to reach me. I double take that thought.
He had to break his back just to reach me.
I know he didn't actually break his back, but I just knew that sort of hurt. But it was nice, so I guess it was worth it for him. At least, I hope it was.
Okay, wait. Why am I thinking like this? I guess we're on good terms now. I mean, sure, we bicker, but not as much anymore? I don't know. Whatever. I guess we're fine. I want us to be. I'm tired of being mad at him for no reason.
Yeah. We're fine. That's why I'm thinking like this, right? You know, as a friendly, 'I want to take care of you' kind of way. Which is platonic. Totally. Yeah, that's fine.
Maybe I should say hi from time to time? Or no. Maybe just a nod for a greeting? Too bland. A smile will do. He might be creeped out, though.
I groan internally. Why am I overthinking this? Whatever, I'll just smile and wave. That's good. Simple and effective. Don't overthink it. There's nothing to overthink about.
Ms. Couret walks in, and the class collectively stands up. She's wearing a green dress. It looks nice. It reminds me of Joseph.
Woah. Why am I thinking about him? I think I'm just worried. Yeah. I'm worried about him because we're friends. Wait, are we friends? I'll ask later.
We're told to sit down, and we do. Ms. Couret pulls out a copy of the news. This must be about The Beatles, I remember from the last discussion, before it got interrupted. I light up in my seat.
"We won't wait for your classmates. They're getting tortured at the dean's dungeon." The class laughs.
"Today, we'll start with an article on President Kennedy's murder." So it isn't about The Beatles. I furrow my eyebrows.
I raise my hand.
"Yes?" Ms. Couret lifts her head.
"What about the song?" I shrug my shoulders, asking a bit sadly.
"No. There won't be a song. I don't have the record." I purse my lips in silent disappointment. She passes us some papers, and I sit the rest of the day quietly.
××《☆》××
I walk outside of the gate, the crowds of students slowly dissipating. My hair flows in the wind, styled the same way it was yesterday, except done in a half up half down style. My yellow dress lifts up and down as my legs do.
I'm headed to Callum's school, excited for the results. Almost halfway there, I stop. Joseph is in front of a magazine booth, buying. My heart drops, assuming it was another one of those flashy magazines. But then he leans out the booth, holding a magazine with my face on the cover.
My face is on the cover, and Joseph is buying it.
Two very important things.
One, I got on the cover, so Callum won. Two, Joseph is buying a magazine with my face on the cover. My question is, does he know it's me on the cover? Or is he buying it because he generally likes cars.
I take slow steps forward. The closer I am, the more I hear. And there's a voice inside my head repeating Joseph's words.
"That's my girl." He points to my picture in the magazine, showing the booth owner. "She's gorgeous. I mean, look at her." He makes the magazine face him again. There's a wide smile on his face.
He's smiling. I think I'm starting to like it on him.
The second he turns his head and sees me, the smile I just started to admire drops. He looks red under the afternoon sun.
"Pardine." He clears his throat, hiding the magazine. "What are you doing around here?"
"Headed to St. Patricks. You know the all boys school?" I smile softly. His nervousness seems to fade, for only a little.
"What would you be doing there?" He sounds off.
"Meeting a friend." I lift my shoulders, showing off a smile.
He looks like he melts, then stiffens back up. "A friend? Who? What's his name? What's he look like?"
"You ask a lot of questions. Answer mine first, then I'll answer yours." He nods. "What are you doing here?"
He stutters. "I was just looking around. Thought I'd buy a magazine but then saw you." He's acting uninterested. Or atleast trying to.
"Saw me walking towards you, or saw me in that magazine you have in your hands?" His eyes blow open. I hide my laugh.
"What? What do you- oh." He points to the magazine booth that he's still standing next to.
"That's you? Wow, I didn't know you modelled. It's not like I care or anything." He puts his head down, shrugging his shoulders.
"Why'd you buy it, Joseph?" I smirk, tilting my head, trying to meet his eyes. He shys away.
"I was... gonna burn it. Yeah. I was- wait. What did you call me?" He whips his head up. I try to recall, then flush when I do.
"Nothing."
"You totally called me Joseph." Yes, I did.
"No, I didn't." I shake my head.
"You never call me that." No, but like last night, I want to.
"I didn't call you Joseph."
"You just did."
"You're so childish, Joseph."
"You did it again!"
I groan, walking away from him, as red as when he saw me. Why was he red when he saw me? Whatever, I need to get to Callum.
I hear his steps behind me, and I roll my eyes.
"Y/N, come on." I turn around.
"You called me Y/N."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did." He definitely did.
"I didn't." Mhm, sure.
"You did. You never call me that." I mock him. He rolls his eye.
"Whatever."
"Whatever." I walk away from him. He doesn't seem to follow after me anymore, but then after a while, I hear his steps again.
"What's your friends name again? Are you sure I wasn't the friend you were gonna meet?" Oh right, I was gonna ask him about that.
"Are we friends?" I stop and turn to him.
He stops, too. No talking, no walking.
"Do you want us to be?" He asks. I pause.
"Yes."
"Then, yeah." There's that smile I missed.
"Good." I continue to walk.
"You didn't answer my first question."
"His name is Callum. He was the one who photographed me." I feel him grab my arm, and we stop again.
"He photographed you? When did you even meet? How are you sure he isn't some old creep?"
"Yes, he did. Yesterday, when I was in the market. He's our age, I made sure to ask."
"Okay, how exactly did he come up to you in the market?" He squints, tilting his head.
"Just went up to me, said hi, called me beautiful, offered money for the photos, took the photos, we drove around in his car, and then he walked me home." I shrug simply. He's still hesitant.
"You drove around in a stranger's car?"
"Correction, friends car."
"Yeah, a friend you just met."
"Whatever, I'm here now safe and sound anyways."
"But what if he was some creep? You need to be more careful, Y/N."
"I said it's whatever, Joseph." His eyebrows are furrowed, then after a while, he nods.
I continue to walk, and he follows. I don't stop him.
Once we're in front of St. Patricks' gate, I see the familiar Ford Thunderbird and quickly make my way, Joseph hot on my feet.
I see the familiar man leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets, then I see his toothy grin. I run up to him and give him a hug that he returns.
"Callum! Congratulations. I knew you had it in the bag." I say as I lean away from him. He keeps his arms wrapped around me. I feel a burning stare on us.
"Told you, you brought me luck." He takes his glasses off with his hand, then places the arm he used back on my waist. I hear footsteps and Callum's hold loosens.
There's an arm around my shoulder. Then, an all familiar voice.
"You alright, man? Congrats on the magazine. Y/N's told me about you." I look up at Joseph. His jaw's clenched.
"Of course she did. She told you about the ride on this pretty thing?" He pats the car, and I flush.
"Yeah, she did. I'm Joseph." He puts a hand out for Callum to shake. They clasp hands, and their grips are tight.
"Callum, but I guess you already knew that. If you don't mind me asking, who are you to Y/N?"
"Her b-"
"Friend. He's a friend." I cut him off. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes, then masks it with fake joy.
"Yup. I'm her friend." He nods to Callum.
"Oh. It's a bit weird that she hasn't mentioned you. You know, since you're friends and all." Joseph's arm tightens around me.
"Yeah, it's not like her to talk about her friends to someone she just met." There's a sarcastic smirk on his face.
Callum hums. "Well, s'nice to meet you, Joseph. Have a good one, yeah? And you, pretty lady..." Callum's gaze shifts to me, stare softening.
"Have a good night." He lifts my hand to his lips, placing a soft and lingering kiss on it. I take a deep breath in, maintaining composure, overwhelmed by the attention both boys were giving me.
Callum turns around and drives off on his car. Once his car was out of sight, I look back at Joseph, his stare still on the road where Callum rode off to.
"What was that?" I squint, tilting my head up. He instantly looks down at me with tending eyes.
"Nothing. I'll walk you home." His hand comes town to my arm, rubbing it gently. We turn to the way to my place.
The sun has set, and the street lights are on. It's a quiet night, the only things being heard are footsteps and draining water.
Only a block away from my flat, Joseph's arms are still around me. It feels comforting. It's nice to have a new friend. Though, I've known him longer.
"When you get home, I want you to say hi to George for me." I laugh at that. "I'm not kidding."
"Yeah, I'll say hi to George for you." I smile at the ground, then look up at him. He's already looking at me. We slow down a bit, just staring.
Then he leans in, and I mirror him. We lean in closer, closer, and closer. A moped engine turns on. We stop, and pull away.
"Here we are." He stops, and I didn't even notice we were already at my place.
"Oh. Right." He steps away from me, the arm around my shoulders gone. I feel alone again.
"Well, good night, Y/N." He stand there with his hands in his pockets.
"Good night, Joseph." I purse my lips. He nods. I walk up quarter way to the steps, then I stop.
I go back down, see Joseph, I tip toe, then press a kiss on his cheek. I quickly walk up the stairs again, almost tripping.
I make it to the inside of my flat, not bothering to turn the light on, then rush to the window. I peek out of it, and he's still there. He looks bewildered. Then, a smile slowly sits on his face. He stays there for a while, and then he walks away.
I slowly get up from my place, turning on the light, and I just stand there. Then, I squeal.
Holy fucking shit. Oh my gosh. No way, no way, no way, no way. I just kissed his cheek. Holy shit.
That's normal. Totally. Just a friendly kiss. But it felt nice.
I check the time. It's 12 in the morning. New year's kiss. I just had Joseph as my New Year's kiss. Kind of.
I see George, and smile wider.
"Joseph said hi."
I definitely don't hate not hating him anymore.
××《☆》××
End of- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines
Next- Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look
××《☆》××
It's finally done 😭😭 watch me take a month for chapter five /j. Anw, this is a handful chapter. So many emotions. This is turning out to be an enemies to frienimies to lovers. What do u guys think abt Callum? Honestly, hes lowkey me cus i love cars. I wish i had his car. More of him soon too. I wanted tk add fluff so that u guys dont get the idea that im not making joseph and reader end game. I promise i am but u guys have to wait. Happy reading hope u guys liked this!!!
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stillnotyourmusebitch · 2 months
Note
AAAGH I loved your sinner!Adam fic about him and Reader watching TV together 🥺
I heard you take sinner!Adam requests so is it okay to have a sort-of part 2? Maybe watching movies became a regular thing between them and one time they end up kissing during one? If you find it repetitive and don't want to it's totally okay, I understand! I hope you have a nice day and keep up with the good work 🥹
Oh I loved writing this. The fic below is a sequel to this ficlet
I do hope that you liked it. I'm always worried I've made him too ooc but Sinner!Adam is fanon based atm and if he is wanting redemption he would change his ways.
So Urm yeah enjoy. . . .
What we watching?? Sinner!Adam x GN!reader
Fluffy af
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That night watching trashy romcoms with Adam could have just been a one off thing and you would’ve been fine with it. But when he approached you in the communal kitchens the next morning with a proposition to make ‘Thursday film night’ a regular thing between the two of you. You had asked him why. He said that hanging out with you yesterday was one of the most fun things he had done in a long time. You smiled fondly at him before agreeing.
-
As Thursday night rolled around again. You were looking forward to sharing some more of your favourite films with Adam. He’d said he would be there by 6ish. You glance at the time on your phone. It was only 6.05pm. He’s probably just running late after the one on one session with Charlie.
An easy way to keep your mind busy was dragging out all your blankets and making a sort of nest type thing on the floor by the couch. You used to do this with your family when you were alive. It just made the movie marathons all that more special. After seeing how far Adam had come since arriving at the hotel. You had really wanted to show him how much he meant to you.
‘Wait, as a friend.’ You stopped mid cushion grab. You liked him as only a friend right? Right?
Your door burst open and slammed shut very quickly Adam was only 45 minutes late, you looked up seeing him breathing hard, carting an armload of snacks, drinks and a few bowls of things.
“There you . . .” he shushes you looking frantically at the closed door. “What did you do?” You whisper as you crawl onto the couch.
A far off loud shouting could be heard in the silence. He waited a minute more before letting out a breath.
“It wasn’t my fault honest.” He looked extremely guilty. You quirked a brow wanting an explanation. “I was trying to make my super awesome dip for our movie night but I maaaaaay have made a really big mess but I didn’t mean to, I just tripped over that cleaner chick who was chasing more of them roaches. This hotel must have an infestation or she is breeding them just to kill. Oh wait, I’m getting off point, the thing is I might have made too much of the dip than I intended and I kinda launched half of it onto another patron. But it wasn’t my fault. This time at least.” He frantically spoke as he juggled the drinks and snacks about in his arms before depositing them carefully on the coffee table. Standing back up he turned and looked down at what you were making. “What’s that?” He points to the accumulated amount of cushions, blankets and other soft furnishings piled on the floor.
“Well, the thing is.” You hopped off the couch into the nest trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. How were you supposed to explain the reason behind it without him laughing at you? “You know what it’s stupid let me just . . .” You felt shame rush to your cheeks as you tried to dismantle the obviously stupid idea.
“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Looks comfy as fuck. Budge up would ya.” You hopped out as he set himself down in the dead center of the nest, keeping his legs open slightly to give you a place to sit. Last week he really liked having you snuggled up close to him, why did you think this week would be any different.
You chose the first movie and plopped yourself down in the space he left for you, his arms wrapping around your middle pulling you flush against his chest.
“So what we watching?”
-----
“I have a question do all of these movie have the same premise?” Adam asked after about 15 minutes into the third film.
“Whatdya mean?” You say through a mouthful of chips.
“Like . . hang on pause the film a sec.” He fumbles for the remote to stop the movie. You shuffle a bit to see him better. “Like don’t get me wrong they’re good films, a bit cliché but surely the lead woman knows that the ‘Oh I’m a famous something or other I have no time for a man’” his fake high pitched womanly voice had you laughing. “Hey shush let me finish my thought.”
“But you make such a good woman.” You poke at his chest playfully.
“Ah ha ha ha.” He grabs your hand in his. “But seriously shush. My point is are there any original ideas in these films?”
“You saying I got trash taste in cinema?” You try pulling your hand away from his grasp. Adam doesn’t let go but pulls you closer to him.
“What I’m saying is watching all these oblivious people who clearly have strong feelings for the other person, got me thinking.” He looks down at your hand in his. “Ya know what never mind let’s keep watching the movie.” He lets go of your hand and grabs for the remote, setting the film going again.
The whiplash from that conversation was enough to make your head spin. You stayed a second more simply looking into the face of a man who had something he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to do so. As you turned back in his arms to watch the movie, you could hear a small sigh of relief.
You tried to go back to watching the movie but you couldn’t. Adam only held you loosely now, choosing to focus more on grabbing snacks and sipping his soda. Your mind went into overdrive.
‘What did you do wrong?’
‘Was he mad at you?’
‘Did he . . . wait did he like you?’
You almost choked on a piece of popcorn at the realisation. Adam liked you.
Daring to flick your eyes to look at him. He was focused on the film but the soft look of longing he bore was almost too much.
“Adam?” Your voice was gentle so as not to spook him.
“Mmmyeah?” He was still watching the screen.
You grabbed the remote and paused the TV again.
“Hey, it was getting to a good part.” He looked down at you annoyed. “What. Is there something on my face?” He touches his face trying to feel for any irregularity. “Hey, say something you’re freaking me. mmmf” You pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He froze against your lips.
‘Shit was I wrong?’
You move to pull away. But his hands cup your face pulling you back into a tender kiss that makes you melt into his touch. The kiss lasted no longer than 5 seconds but you didn’t care you felt like your entire body was floating.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He spoke softly as he broke the kiss. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes.” Your words were barely a whisper but it was all he needed to pull you back against him, he kissed you in such a tender way that made your heart flutter in your chest. You didn’t realise he was capable of such gentility but you craved more of it. Your hands carded into his hair, being careful of his horns, as one of his hands went to cradle the back of your head, effectively tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. His other hand moved to your lower back, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. The kiss had an undertone of heat laced in the movements of your joined lips.
You broke the kiss panting slightly, you noted his pupils were dilated slightly as you were sure yours mirrored back.
You had to slow this down now before you regretted anything.
“Adam.” Your voice low in warning. “As much as I enjoy kissing you. Can we take whatever this is a little slower?”
You expected him to whine or pout about being told no. but he just smiles goofily at you. Swiping a thumb over your lower lip.
“Sure thing.” He kisses your forehead before helping you settle back against him the way your were before. He picked up the remote “Ready to continue?”
You weaved your fingers with his other hand and nodded “Ready.”
--------
I hope this is what you wanted.
My ask box is still open if anyone else got requests
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steveshairychest · 1 year
Text
It's raining.
Eddie leans his forehead against his bedroom window and sighs. It's raining on Valentine's Day; his first Valentine's Day with a date. He knows that there are plenty of things they can do inside to avoid the heavy downpour of rain, but he'd had a plan! He'd even told Steve not to worry about anything because he had everything sorted out. Now, he has nothing.
He'd spent the entire day yesterday making perfectly cut triangle sandwiches, chocolate dipped strawberries, and a heap more of Steve's favourite snacks for a picnic. He was going to spread his favourite blanket out right on the spot where they had their first kiss at skull rock and he was going to tell Steve he loved him. Because Valentine's day felt like the perfect time to say it. The words have been perched behind his lips for weeks, but he was afraid every moment he wanted to say it was too soon. So he's waited.
And now the day has been ruined by rain.
Steve doesn't seem to mind the rain. He knocks on the front door of the trailer and greets Eddie with a beaming smile even though he's saturated from head to toe. He's wearing that ridiculously bright yellow sweater and a pair of jeans that Eddie ripped at the knees for him; it's crazy how good he looks even though he's drenched.
Steve runs a hand through his wet hair to pull it off his forehead. Eddie wants to lean forward and plant a kiss on the exposed skin. "Are you going to let me in?" Steve laughs while wiping water out of his eyes.
"Shit, sorry, get in here." Eddie smacks a quick kiss to Steve's wet cheek before running off to get him a towel and a fresh change of clothes. He'll admit he loves any excuse to see Steve in his clothes. He ignores the pile of Steve's clothes in his cupboard and pulls out an old band shirt and shorts for Steve; seeing Steve's thighs will cheer him up.
Once Steve's all dry and bundled up in Eddie's clothes, they sit on the couch as close as possible and just bask in the joy that comes from being in each other's presence. If Steve notices the permanent pout on Eddies face, he doesn't mention it. He does, however, poke Eddie in the side and ask, "What's the basket for?" He nods towards the picnic basket he'd borrowed from Nancy that sits by the front door, all packed and ready to go nowhere because of the rain.
Eddie groans and buries his face in Steve's shoulder; he sighs and tries to drown himself in Steve's signature smell of cinnamon and apples. "I had such a stupidly romantic idea for a picnic date, but the rain has ruined it. I was gonna take you to the movies instead."
Steve rests his cheek against the top of Eddie's frizzy hair – the rain makes his hair have a mind of its own – and hums thoughtfully. "We can still have a picnic."
"I don't want soggy sandwiches and wet clothes." Eddie whines.
"You won't have any of that. Get up. Go grab your picnic blanket." Eddie has no idea what Steve has in mind, but he's not going to deny Steve on Valentine's Day. If Steve wants to go outside and eat food in the rain, then fuck it, he'll do just that to see his boy smile.
Eddie drags the old picnic blanket out of the bag he packed for their date, there's also other items in the bag that he puts back in his bedside drawer. Later, he tells himself. "OK, love, what now?" Eddie comes out of his room with the blanket wrapped around him but he stops just outside his doorway and watches with curious eyes as Steve rearranges the small lounge room. "What... are you doing?"
Steve stands in the middle of the lounge room and holds his arms out wide. "We're having a picnic, obviously." He steps into Eddie's space, plants a kiss to his lips and slowly unwraps the blanket. "I'm sorry we can't do it the way you originally planned, but this will still be fun. You set it up exactly how you want while I run out to the car to get your present. Sound good?"
Eddie wants to cry. He wants to kiss Steve's smiling face and thank him for being the best boyfriend in the world because Eddie hadn't even considered a picnic inside. He was fully intending to mope around and cuddle. Steve really is Eddie's better half. "Sounds great. Go get my present while the rain isn't torrential." He gives Steve's ass a cheeky smack before focusing on the task at hand.
Making the perfect indoor picnic.
Steve shuffles back into the trailer just as Eddie is spreading out all the food on the blanket and pouring them both a glass of wine – he doesn't even like wine, he just thinks it looks romantic. "You're just in time! Come sit – " He freezes when he sees the present wrapped up in Steve's arms. "Shup up. You did not."
"Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie."
Eddie doesn't even realise he's crying until Steve gently passes over the small bundled up present and places it in Eddie's arms. Steve sits down next to him on the picnic blanket and kisses away the happy tears that stain his cheeks. "I spoke to Wayne already. He said it's completely fine for the little guy to stay here. He's been having sleepovers at mine and Robin's for the past week."
Eddie smiles down at the black kitten in his arms and tries not to sob too loud in case he frightens the poor thing. He's always wanted a cat, and he's said as much to Steve, but to actually have one in his arms is overwhelming. He doesn't care that his picnic idea was changed, doesn't care that he's getting snot all over Steve's (his) shirt as he cries into his shoulder. "Thank you so much. He's perfect. You're perfect. I love you so much. I'm so happy."
Steve pulls away slightly, his eyes wide and his mouth open in surprise as he whispers, "You love me?" He's crying now and it's not exactly how Eddie expected his grand Valentine's Day plan to go but he wouldn't change it for the world.
Eddie places the kitten down in his lap and cups Steve's face in his hands. "Steve, I'm so in love with you it's disgusting. I made chocolate dipped strawberries! And cut watermelon into little hearts!" They're both laughing and crying now and Eddie wants nothing more than to freeze time and stay right here with Steve, he never wants to stop seeing that gorgeous smile.
"I love you."
Steve pulls him into a kiss, mindful of the kitten now exploring around their indoor picnic, and whispers against Eddie's lips, "I love you more."
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