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#it'll just make your head hurt
vettelcore · 1 year
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me when the red flags warned me exactly about what was gonna happen and i still ignored them
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osaemu · 5 months
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GOJO SATORU: IT'S GONNA FEEL SO GOOD, I PROMISE!
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.ೃ࿐ he's dreamt about fucking you for months, and now that you're finally in his sheets, he has no intent of letting you go—especially when he finds out that he's your first time. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. virgin!reader. kinda sorta subtle coercion, corruption kink, slight dubcon, fingering, p –> v, lots of praise!!, mentions of prior dirty dreams (about you).
author's note: had this stuck in my drafts for a while so uhhhh. yea enjoy. tagging @mymegumi bc i love selene ꨄ︎
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"please, baby, it'll feel so good," satoru cooes, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling your face closer to his. "i promise i'll be gentle."
you shrug, scrunching up your nose at satoru hesitantly. "i don't know..."
your boyfriend presses his lips to yours briefly and smiles tenderly. satoru's soft eyes are fixed on you, only you as he widens them pleadingly. "i wanna teach you how to fuck. please, sweetheart, we can stop anytime. jus' wanna make you feel good, i promise!"
it's only partially a lie—yes, satoru certainly wants to teach you to fuck, but he's not entirely certain that he could just stop anytime. especially because he's well aware that fucking a virgin is such an addicting experience—satoru knows you're gonna be so tight that you'll just suck him in, and he isn't that confident that he'll be able to stop once he's started.
but whatever, that's a problem for later—for now, he's focused on persuading you to spread those legs for him and show him your pretty pussy.
you pause, considering his proposal. after a couple seconds, you nod hesitantly. "you promise you'll be gentle?" you ask meekly, averting your eyes.
satoru nods, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "of course—now c'mon, let's get those clothes off of you, baby." and a couple agonizing minutes later, you're half naked underneath a shirtless satoru, and his fingers trace the inside of your thigh.
"so first, i'm gonna make you cum on my fingers, 'kay?" satoru informs you. "needa loosen you up so you can take my dick."
"o-okay," you whisper, swallowing nervously. "i'm a little scared," you admit, fiddling with the waistband of your lacy underwear. "will it hurt?"
after a moment, satoru nods in response. "at first it will. but then you're gonna feel so good, i promise."
"you promise?"
"i do."
satoru tugs down your panties and grins at the sight of your pussy, untouched and reserved just for him. he's dying to just fuck you then and there, rough and no prep, but he made a promise. and satoru has no intention of breaking it.
"ready?" he breathes, positioning his fingers just outside of your entrance. when you nod, he shakes his head. "i'm gonna need to hear it from you, baby. use your words."
"i'm r-ready," you confirm, inching your thighs farther apart for him.
"good girl."
then satoru slips his fingers inside, and you can't suppress the sudden moan that slips out of your lips. to you, it's embarrassing, but to satoru, it's music to his ears. he steadily pushes his fingers farther and farther into your tight cunt, and satoru can't help but marvel at the way you just suck him in.
"you're so fuckin' tight," satoru mumbles, eyes fixed on your pussy. "and so wet, too. i've barely even touched you, fuck."
it's agonizing, really—the sensation of having someone else's fingers inside of you is so new and so strange that you can almost ignore the pain (which is present but not as throbbing as you had feared). satoru makes sure to be as gentle as he can, which unfortunately isn't quite as gentle as you'd like—but it's not too rough for you to handle.
satoru starts widening his fingers in a scissor-like motion, stretching you farther apart to make room for his already rock-hard dick. you squirm around him and whine about how deep his fingers are, but satoru dismisses your complaints with a laugh. "c'mon, this is barely the beginning. if ya can't take this, how're you gonna take my dick?"
a couple minutes later, when satoru finally deems you loose enough, he pulls out his now-drenched fingers. looking you in the eye with a smug smile, he slips his fingers into his mouth and licks your slick off of them. "mm, you taste so good, pretty. lemme see if you feel as good as you taste, yeah?"
and that's how he convinces you to keep your thighs nice and spread wide open for him as he positions the head of his dick at your entrance, practically trembling from the effort it takes to not just pound into you. you're so compliant and perfect for satoru, and it takes every ounce of his willpower to resist the urge to push you up against the headboard and fuck you until you pass out.
but somehow, he manages to control himself. "alright, baby, this is gonna hurt," satoru warns, touching his reddening tip to your soaked pussy. "you ready?"
"y-yeah," you breathe, distantly noticing the way your hands start to tremble. satoru exhales softly and shakes his hair out of his eyes before gently pushing himself inside of you, and the first thought that enters your head is that he's ridiculously big—it feels like you're getting torn apart every second he goes in farther.
"satoruuu," you whine, starting to paw at his chest when he goes in farther, and it's too much, too fast, but he only grins down at you in response. "it hurts, ow... y're too—"
"uh uh, just shut your pretty mouth n' take it," satoru groans, shifting the angle of his hips and going in a little deeper. you cry out in pain, face scrunching up in an effort to numb the stinging sensation around your waist. satoru dips his head and kisses your forehead, murmuring praises on how well you're doing.
"it'll feel so good soon, i promise, baby," he insists, pressing his lips to the spot in between your eyes. "you're takin' me so good, fuck— agh, you're so damn tight, this one's gonna hurt like hell, but you can take it, yeah? my pretty princess, you'll do anythin' i say, won't ya..."
satoru doesn't give you a chance to respond before he says something about this being the last stretch, but his words don't really sink in until he's two more inches deep into you. his last thrust is so sudden and jarring that it makes you cry out his name, over and over and over until the pain evident on your face starts to turn into something that looks a lot like... pleasure?
a self-assured smile grows on satoru's flushed face when he sees the chance, and a thousand more words of praise fall from his lips. your vision's a little fuzzy in the corners, and your mind is all but gone—it's hard to focus on anything but the slowly fading pain.
satoru starts to move his hips back and forth, easing your loosening cunt into him and nodding at the way you slowly start to show signs of wanting more. your eyes brighten up a little and you seem more alert the longer satoru opens you up.
"startin' to feel good now?" he asks, smiling smugly when you nod your head. "yeah, told you so." the prominent blush on his face starts to creep down his neck, and when you reach up and tentatively touch his cheek, that's when he loses it.
it takes every drop of self-restraint in his body to not flip you over, face-down and ass-up and fuck your tight cunt the way he's dreamed about for months. satoru's imagined it for so long that it's practically a reality for him—the way you would whimper his name and claw at the sheets, the way you would cum all over him too many times to count, all of it. he's seen it a thousand times in his head, but having his fantasy so close and yet so far drives him insane.
but as you smile up at him, the almost unnoticeable tremble in your bottom lip assures him that this probably isn't the time. after all, you're not leaving him anytime soon, so he might as well train you first before even attempting any of that on your perfect, untouched body.
"what do i do now?" you ask, and the simplicity of the question is almost childish. especially when satoru almost laughs in response, soft blue eyes glinting with amusement.
"jus' lie there and stay pretty f'me. and keep your legs spread wiiide open," satoru cooes, shaking his hair out of his eyes only for it to fall right back in.
"yeah, you're doin' so good that i don't even buy that you were a virgin—or are you just naturally made for me, huh? maybe that's it, 'cause i swear on my life that i've never fucked a cunt this fuckin' pretty, heh."
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ohsuguru · 7 days
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sukuna finally, finally takes his best friend's virginity ⁀ ❣︎
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˚ʚ minors, ageless and blank blogs dni! ɞ˚
cw: virgin fem! reader, p in v, unprotected sex (pls wrap before you tap) dirty talk, pet names used, slight overstimulation, slight corruption kink on sukuna's end
an: i think i got a bit carried away (。· v ·。) ? heehee / part 2 of this!
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"ease up, woman."
"i can't, ryo..."
you hear a disapproving tsk from your best friend, his muscular body caging yours into his plush mattress. your legs are hiked around his thick waist, your wrists pinned above your head by one of his large hands.
despite his tsk, however, his free hand is gentle on your thigh, rubbing the flesh there softly as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss to try and distract you from the tight pressure that's bubbling in your fluttering core below.
"you sure you wanna do this, pretty?" sukuna asks you, his voice quiet but gravelly, the timbre of it sending shivers down your spine. "we don't need to if you don't want to."
you immediately shake your head, wanting nothing more than to have your best friend take you right here, right now. 
"want you, 'kuna," you mumble as you wiggle your wrists out of his hold and instead interlace one of your hands with his, the other one moving to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. "please."
a slight smile plays on his kiss-bitten lips and he nods before he drags his lengthy, throbbing cock against your slick folds once more. his mushroom tip bumps against your clit, once, twice, three times, a tacky sound echoing through the room before he drags it down to your leaky hole.
"it'll hurt just a little," sukuna warns you, his crimson eyes flickering from where your bodies almost meet below to look into your eyes. "but you're my good girl, right? you can take a bit of pain, yeah, pretty?"
you nod, giving his hand a gentle but reassuring squeeze, expression pleading and needy. and before you could even suck in a breath, sukuna aligns himself and pushes in, your body arching at the sudden pinch. your hand grips his, facial expression morphing into one of both pain and pleasure as sukuna continues to guide his thickness into your warm cunt.
"fuuuuck, girl," sukuna groans out sinfully as he bottoms out in you, your gummy walls slowly stretching out to try and accommodate your best friend. "pussy's so tight that she almost made me cum early."
he shoots you a mischievous smirk as sukuna tries to keep the situation light but raunchy before he leans down to press a soft kiss onto your slightly sweaty forehead, his hand still holding onto yours gently.
"you're doing alright, yeah?" he mumbles against your forehead, always making sure to put your comfort and pleasure above his. you were his best friend after all.
"mhm," you hum sweetly in return as you clench around him to get used to his hardness. "doing good, 'kuna."
and at your words, he starts to move, in and out. in and out. slowly at first, almost tortuously as his bulbous head catches and nudges every groove and soft, spongey areas in your cunt. your eyes flutter. your breath hitches. your lips part.
"sukuna, you're teasing me," you whine as you give his hand a harder squeeze. "thought 'm your good girl, but you're– you're going sooo slow."
a sharp chuckle of laughter leaves his lips as he stills, only his tip nestled in your warmness, leaving the rest of it glistening with your sweet juices.
"oh, suddenly my good girl's got a mouth on her now, huh?" sukuna jests, his eyes flickering with a condescending and challenging glint. "a taste of dick and suddenly she's a slut."
and to punctuate his words, sukuna slams back into you in one go, completely stretching you out once more. sukuna rips out the most sinful moan from your lips as he ruts into you, almost like he's trying to fuck the brat out of you.
"sukuna!" you yelp as your best friends drills into your drooling cunt, his fat tip bullying your gummy walls, his thrusts sharp and mean. "wait– s'too much–"
another dark chuckle leaves his lips as he tsks at you, crimson eyes glinting with a tinge of malice. your expression morphs into one of pure ecstasy as your cunt spams around his one.
"oh no, pretty," the pink-haired man coos as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze despite the brutal pace he's setting with the only intention of making sure that his best friend's pussy is moulded to his dick and only his dick. "you asked for this. you and this greedy, sloppy cunt."
his dirty and sinful words send waves of pleasure down your back which makes your legs tighten around his abs, keeping him locked in against your body. 
"fuck," he groans as he moves to suck a hickey onto the swell of your tit as he feels his entire length continuously get sucked in deeper into your velvet walls, pussy leaking your sweet juices all over him. "pussy's so good to me. wanna live in here forever."
his free hand cups your free breast, showering it with some attention too, fingers deftly pinch and roll your budding nipple which makes you croon, your voice taking on a lewd, saccharine tone. the room soon smells of sex and sweat, the soundtrack of skin slapping against each other with a satisfying pap-pap-pap, his heavy balls smacking against the globes of your ass.
you feel his dick twitch and throb in you, swelling as he sucks another harsh hickey onto your chest almost as if he's trying to stave off from finishing too quickly. it was like your cunt was made for him and only him, the grip it has on his length, warm and gooey ridges that drag against the veins alongside his girth, his slit not kissing - no, no - but fucking your cervix. 
sukuna had always prided himself on his stamina, but when he was buried hilt deep in his best friend's pussy? that word meant jack shit in his vocabulary.
"ryo, m'gonna cum," you gasp out, your pitchy voice dragging him out of his stupor that he tightens his grip on your hand as you rake down your nails down his muscled back, leaving a trail of red marks against his skin which he'll brandish proudly. "m'close–"
"then fuckin' cum, girl," he grits out, trying his best to get you to finish first before him, wanting to feel you cum on his cock. to feel your pussy spasm and pulse around him. to feel your juices gush around him, knowing that this was his doing.
and just like that, that coil in your lower abdomen snaps as you cry out his name like a pornstar, your entire body tightening like a vice around him as you burst out in pleasure, searing white behind your eyes, lips slick with drool.
sukuna immediately falls straight after with a loud groan as he buries his face in your neck, his hips stuttering as he shoots ropes and ropes of thick cum into your needy cunt, painting your insides white. the skin between your bodies is sticky with a mix of your essences, slippery when wet, but also tacky and warm.
sukuna ruts into you a couple more times, making sure that his cum is thoroughly fucked into you, but you immediately try to squirm away from overstimulation. a sadistic thought flashes through his mind, wanting to train your body, push you through your overstimulation, eager to make a complete mess out of you. 
but he relents and pulls out his cock from your body, his crimson eyes focused intently on how his cum pools out of your twitchy hole and onto the sheets below, and he swears if he could've busted another nut just at this sight alone.
"ryo," you whimper quietly which makes him immediately soften and he leans over to press a soft peck to your lips. your expression is dazed but sweet and pretty, satisfied beyond relief, and a strange sense of pride blooms between sukuna's lungs.
"sleep, pretty," he urges softly, finally letting go of your hand to cup your face.
"i'll clean you up."
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nkogneatho · 10 months
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˚ ༘♡ 𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝑰𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑻.ೃ࿐
—cw: fem!reader, dacryphilia, size kink, pet names, pulled this one out of my cunt so idk who to specify but insert any big man here.
Your cries are not ignored. They just happen to fuel his ego. Broad pelvis concealing your sweet, wet core and his balls are drenched in your juices. His dickhead forcing out all the cum you have hidden inside as he pushes it in.
It hurts. The stretch is too much to bear. But you don't want him to stop either. Your pussy wants to devour him till you're fucked apart. You're scared. You need him desperately, but what if he doesn't fit?
"Then I'll make it fit. Don'tcha worry, sweetheart." He doesn't hurt you. His mushroom head settles near your entrance to make sure it is getting used to it. To make sure it'll welcome when he pushes that big cock inside you.
And when he finally knows you're ready, the man uses all his force in ramming his thick cock inside you, knocking out the air in your lungs. You're overwhelmed. You want to cry. But at the same time, you need to feel that man as if he is deep in your fucking throat. A lump of air is formed in your oesophagus and you feel like you need extra effort to breathe. He comes to the rescue and slams his dick another time, making that lump disappear and all you feel now is a cocksleeve made for him. No matter how big you are, you feel tiny when his body hovers over you. You feel as if you're just a small cumsock sewn for his dick.
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katzenmas · 2 months
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daddy kink this daddy kink that, you are WRONG Simon Riley has a mommy kink i will die on this hill.
At first he doesn't even show it, thinks it'll scare a pretty bird like you off. Is content to play the role of the dominant man in the relationship, ignoring his own needs and urges just to make sure you are pleased.
BUT one time he comes back from a particularly rough op, his whole body is aching and he just wants to be taken care of, so you get on your knees and when you take him into your mouth he falls apart.
the tiredness is weighing down on his mind, it has him shaking and bucking his hips up and whining.
"yeah mama jus' like tha" he slurs and you suck more vigorously, the nickname igniting something in you, simon shudders and cums into your mouth, falling back on the couch with a sigh and his eyes closed, his spent cock twitches and you clean him up.
"What is it baby? want me to take care of you?" His eyes fly open when you take his softening dick into your hand and start slowly moving your wrist, overstimulation burns at his nerve endings.
" S'too much love can't take it" suddenly your hand picks up in speed, making Simon throw his head back with a deep groan.
"That's not what you called me before. Do it right baby and i will give you what you want"
Simon fights with himself, the embarrassment of you catching in on what he said burns a hole through his chest, but your hand is not letting up and it almost hurts.
"please fuck mama take care of it f'me please" you grin and slow your strokes, watching Simon fall apart below you with variations of 'mommy' falling from his lips.
"my good boy, let's get you cleaned up" Simon feels his cock twitch again at the nickname.
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sleepymarimo · 3 months
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❝ 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡! ❞
: ̗̀➛ first-time dad toji is not a fan of watching baby 'gumi get his first shot...
pairing: toji x afab!reader cw: needles! some cursing. majority fluff :) wc: 565
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toji didn't do doctors.
he's never really gotten hurt to the point where he felt that it was necessary to go to one. hell, the first doctor's appointment he ever went to wasn't even for him; it was for you, his pregnant wife.
well, then pregnant wife. it's been around two months since baby megumi was born. now, he's back here to accompany you to this appointment.
he leans against the wall, watching as the doctor wipes down a patch of megumi's chubby thigh with an alcohol pad. you're cradling the infant in your lap, cooing at him and making sure he sits still for the patient pediatrician.
megumi, none the wiser, gazes at you with the smallest of smiles.
toji can see the worry in your eyes, but he doesn't really get it. doctors are supposed to make things better or something, so he just keeps a watchful eye.
the needle catches his attention a bit, but it's so small and thin that he figures it'll barely be noticed by his son.
following a swift countdown by the doctor, the needle pokes through the meat of megumi's thigh. it's in for such a short period of time, but the result is immediate.
a frown replaces the smile that was on his face.
the baby boy is still for a brief second, almost like his body is registering the sensation and trying to make sense of it. unfortunately, it only amounts to one thing: pain.
his black brows scrunch, tiny limbs laxly flailing around in an attempt to escape the offending stimuli. there's no sound, not yet, but 'gumi's mouth opens up wide as he takes in a big breath.
toji has heard the boy cry before, of course he has.
when he's hungry, when he needs a diaper change, when he just needs to, but the noise that comes out of megumi's mouth has him about ready to tear this doctor to shreds.
it's a shrill sound, primal in it's own right. it's a universal cry, one that toji discerns with ease.
his baby is in pain.
even though you're already holding megumi to your chest, even though the band-aid is already covering the puncture sight, toji decides that it's not enough.
he acts like you brought your baby here to cry on purpose when he reaches out and takes the little one in his arms.
"fuck, give 'em here." he demands, his large palm running up and down megumi's back. "'yer lettin' 'em do this to our kid?"
"it's a vaccine!" you defend, raising your hand to lightly craddle 'gumi's head. it's not like you enjoy seeing your baby cry, either!
he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't need that shit. i didn't."
"yeah, and you can throw trucks." you retort, your eyes swimming with maternal worry as the infant continues to fuss. "he's just a baby..."
tiny fists bunch into the fabric of his shirt, those piercing cries seeming to bounce across the walls of the room. toji hates the sound, his paternal instincts on full display.
the baby seems to feel particularly safe in his father's hold, his whines quieting down to disgruntled babbles and grunts.
the doctor awkwardly speaks up, clearly not wanting to disrupt this family moment. "excuse me, but we're not quite done with the vaccines yet, mr. fushiguro..."
toji's glare is cold, almost challenging, his hold on megumi tightening just a bit. "the hell you just say?"
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 4 months
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"Just leave me here to die, Si," you mutter into the pillow your face was pressed in. Your head pounded, your throat was sore and you felt so impossibly drowsy. All in all, it was miserable.
Simon only chuckled for a moment.
"C'mon. Up with you, I have some painkillers and cough medicine you should take," he says. You groan in turn.
Maybe it was childish, but you hated the taste of cough medicine and sucked at taking pills.
"I hate taking medicine," you say with a slight pout, sitting up hesitantly.
"It'll help you feel better though," he counters. "Or I can just leave you here to suffer, if that's what you would prefer."
"You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I?"
You groan dramatically again before taking the medicine from his hand wearily. Swallowing the cough medicine with a wince, you take the painkillers next and chug down the water. The face you make when you're done makes Simon snort in amusement.
"There you go, good girl. Was that so hard?"
You felt your cheeks heat up at the praise before glaring at him.
"Don't fuck with me, Simon Riley," you say jokingly with a poke to his chest.
"I have no idea what you mean," he says, before getting up from the bed. Your eyes widen for a moment.
"Where are you going?" you say quietly.
"Figured I would make you some soup, is something wrong?" he says, turning back to look at you.
"Can...can you just hold me for a little bit?" you ask hesitantly. You knew you were a hot mess, sweaty with tangled hair. But nothing makes you feel better than Simon's arms wrapped around you, so it wouldn't hurt to ask.
His eyes soften immediately before he gestures for you to scoot over.
"Always, little love," he says, pulling you into his embrace before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
a/n: this is purely self indulgent bc i am sick as fuck right now and would love a simon riley to give me sick cuddles.
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anantaru · 2 months
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cw. dragoncock, size kink, fem! reader
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dragon zhongli who has to fuck you with his fat tip before he can even do anything more than that, your jaw hanging open as he shifts your lower half towards him— his trembling breath on your skin weeping, his nocturnal and safe cradle rounding up this dance of tension as your eyes turn into heart.
it's everywhere, zhongli was everywhere, invading your senses and penetrating your nostrils with his gracious, galvanizing scent— not to mention how sweat and all kinds of fluids were now pooling stickily onto your belly, thighs and cunt. you moan salaciously at the further stretch, sensing a heart beat on your warm sex as zhongli gives you another inch, not failing to see you absolutely loving it with that clouded grin on your lips.
his tip slides deeper and the copious amount of cum surely aided him in that, fueling an additional stretch on you while zhongli stays like that for a while, in you, forcing you to feel his large length push into your walls— the man knows he cannot let you indulge too much though, you'll either get a little greedy or it'll end up being a bit too much for your sweet, little cunt to bear, especially with the way he'd pinch and nudge against the swollen regions inside you with thrilling pressure.
zhongli was massive and a part of him feared that he'd be too much.
your hips roll up to meet his small thrusts, which were pitiful grinds if anything as zhongli looks at how your pussy was swallowing him suggestively, feeling entirely wanton as the sensations cascaded through him with a heady lust that transcended every expectation inside of his heart.
you know that if his fat cock hurts you, he will stop immediately and resort back in fucking you with his thick tip, because of course, zhongli wants you go enjoy it, there was nothing else he wanted more.
he always tells you to take your time until you're used to his shape, his size and his pace— used to his sensual movements which served as an invitation to your body spasming beneath his dominating one.
someone with such experience which zhongli harbored, wasn’t necessarily shy in his doings, not at all, in fact— he's blunt, experienced when he grabs your hips to him and pull his steadily hardening cock against the tight opening of your hole a bit more.
now, halfway through, you show him how obediently your walls throb around him when he fucks you, when he feeds your cunt with his aching erection until it's settled in a position you're pleased in and your legs get all sore, pushing you to a place of pleasure and harmony like anything you had known before.
it felt like it belonged here, just as it felt like you couldn't possibly move your hips anymore by how full you were of him— and his draconic instincts emerge as his eyes glow of divinity and lust, his shaft pushing into every bit of space your hole could offer.
dropping your head back into the pillows, you feel a knot forming in your stomach until it started to scratch and throb in you, yet the sensation of being overcrowded by his cock made it difficult to decide if it was your orgasm building up or if zhongli had already invaded the literal guts of you.
his thick, oozy cum was making the friction nearly unbearable to ignore as it turns you more sensitive— aside from the fact that his seed was impossibly hot, almost as if it was trying to burn through your walls when all it did was turn you needier. it has your body covered in his filth, and your voice was too broken with moans and gasps to form words as you mewl into his mouth with every touch and thrust.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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ddejavvu · 4 months
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hi lovie! just had a thought of remus not being able to prepare the reader for him and going “deep breath, baby” cause this man has massive cock and that’s it
this post is 18+, minors dni.
"It's gonna hurt," Remus hums, low and sweet as he presses a kiss to your flushed cheek. It's hot with lust and exhilaration, and he noses at the other one while your stomach clenches in anticipation.
"I can take it," You vow, and you really mean it, even if Remus is convinced it'll take time. You've seen him before, and he's impressive to say the least, but you're aching and wet, and there's nothing you want more than to feel Remus's thick cock slip into your eager cunt.
"Relax," He warns you, keeping his face pressed to yours, breathing in tandem with you and brushing his lips against your nose from proximity alone, "Relax, dove, y'hear me?"
"I'm relaxed," You promise, forcing your muscles to un-tense themselves. You feel the head of his cock prod at your slit, although it doesn't offer much resistance until his full circumference breaches your hole. All at once it's too thick, too big, too much, and you tense up again, thighs and stomach and hands all clenched as you gasp in a breath of air.
"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe," Remus coaches, stopping in his tracks, "Deep breath, baby, you're alright. We'll go slow."
"No, I can take it," You repeat, less confident this time, and nearly breathless, "Remus, I- I can take it."
"I know y'can," He croons, pressing another sticky warm kiss to your face, tucked between your nose and your cheek, "Just be patient, sweet thing. You can have it all, I promise. Just wanna make sure I'm not gonna rip you t'pieces, love."
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Out With The Old, In With the New? - LN
Summary: Lando wants to get y/n a new car, but she loves her little beaten up banger
No part 2 requests please
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There's a lot of things Lando loves about his girlfriend, her love for her car is one of them, but the car itself is not.
She's a bit of a terrifying driving, not that she's bad but she goes fast and doesn't always pay the most attention. It's never ended in a crash or even a bump, but Lando just always feels on edge when he's not the one driving.
Y/n's car, that she has named Baby Blue because it's a tiny little car that's a faded blue colour, actually lives at her parents house and is now only in use when she is back in England.
Today they're back and y/n is pouting at the sight of her little VW Lupo. Lando and her dad are also looking at it in slight dismay.
It'd sounded like a bag of hammers when she tried to start the engine and they managed to get it to a garage where they told her the gearbox is gone and the head gasket needs replaced.
"Maybe it's time to call it?" Lando offers up as a solution only to wish he could immediately eat the words back out of existence when y/n look at him with tears in her eyes, her teeth catching her lip to stop it from quivering quite so violently. "Or not-we can not do that too."
"It's fixable sweetheart. It's just...not really worth fixing, it'll cost more than the car's worth." Y/d/n states looking at his daughter in sympathy.
"Uhh...you guys go wait in the car. I've got this." Y/n mumbles making the two men exchange a look.
"I'll pay for it, y/n." Lando states since he knows how right her dad is and while she's not broke, she's not got the money at the moment to be paying to fix it.
"No. I'm not getting Baby Blue fixed. No point. I'm just going to talk to the guy about selling it for-parts." Y/n choking out the last word.
It seems silly, being so attached to an inanimate object. But it was a car she got when she was 17 and it's seen her through so many huge moment and memories. She'd never get rid of it if that was an option.
"Baby." Lando frowns moving towards her but she sighs and shrugs forcing a smile.
"I'm fine, it's ok. I couldn't keep the car forever...it's just a car. Go on, I've got this." Y/n smiles quickly moving to kiss him before she steps towards the mechanic.
It even hurts Lando for y/n to call Baby Blue "just a car" when even he knows that it's much more than just a car to her. But the two men do as asked and move outside to let her talk to the mechanic.
"I'm going to get her dream car." Lando declares earning a chuckle from the man before he pats the F1 driver's shoulder.
"I'm sure that will help perk her up a bit. But I think that car might've been the first love of her life."
Lando sighs as y/n appears and immediately moves to Lando smiling when he takes her directly into a hug.
"They said about £600 for parts."
"That's not too bad. Give me a couple days, I'll find you a new banger to love."
It's later on once they're back at Lando's place, since he does still own a house in England for when he's back, while she's trying to make herself something to eat to help herself feel better at the loss that Lando appears behind her.
"How about...we got car shopping tomorrow? You can get any car you want, a mourning gift from me." Lando offers making her sigh a little and lean back on him, giving him the chance to notice her expression. "You're sad."
"Yeah." Y/n confirms with a sigh. "He was my baby...I know I sort of abandoned her but still, that's my Baby Blue." Y/n sighs before picking up a slice of cucumber and throwing it in her mouth. "I suppose a new car sounds ok. Nothing too extravagant."
"What's your dream car? Extravagant or not."
"Mmm...Jeep Wrangler, Rubicon."
"Jeep Wrangler Rubicon." Lando laughs then patting her sides. "I think we might be able to make that happen. I'm going to send out a couple messages to the guys that did up my Land Rover."
"Yeah?" Y/n smiles earning a nod before he kisses her neck softly.
"I hate seeing you sad, so if that's what I have to do then yes."
-
It took a few weeks to arrange the surprise for y/n, he had to make sure that everything went perfectly. He also had to manage to arrange everything between pre-season prep and being in Monaco.
Y/n had perked up but was still sort of sad at the knowledge her old car was being ripped apart and sold.
"Alright, baby. Time to see the new car." Lando beams as they climb out of his car, actually so eager and ready beyond ready for her to see this.
"The Jeep?" Y/n beams since she's not actually got to be involved in its much with Lando insisting the one he found needed a few things adjusted and fixed. "You know I'm going to find out how much you paid for it and start up like an instalment plan."
"You know I'd send every penny back to you." Lando hums as he links their hands and guides her into the garage where the Jeep is awaiting. "Ok, I need to cover your eyes. I'd say close them but you'd just open them."
Y/n goes to defend herself but she stops herself knowing that he is actually completely right about it. So she allows him to cover her eyes and guide her slowly, careful that she doesn't trip on anything as they walk into the warehouse of the garage.
He grins as he spots the group of people awaiting for them.
"Ok, are you ready to see it?" Lando asks making her bounce a little in excitement.
"Yes."
Lando removes his hands and she beams then gasps slapping her hand over mouth as she spots a second surprise that was really the last thing she was expecting.
In front of her sits the dream Jeep, a powder pink that is only just pink enough to not be considered white. Two door, currently the soft top roof is put away exposing the roll bar and the doors aren't attached. She loves the fully exposed look of it all.
But then opposing the Jeep is the one thing that might just have healed the broken heart she had from losing her car.
There sits baby blue, his faded blue colour just as faded as when she walked away, but it's fairly obvious he's not there as an accessory.
"You saved Baby Blue?" Y/n sniffles earning a laugh and hug as she wipes at her eyes.
"Yeah, he's all fixed up. All ready to be abused on the roads again. I couldn't let you get rid of him when it made you that sad. So I paid for them to give him some TLC, fix up everything and replace anything that might've been on the way to breaking. Internally he's practically brand spanking new. Didn't want to change anything on the outside in case you thought I just got you a new one."
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you-I love the jeep as well, it's literally the most perfect thing that I'll ever drive...and I love the colour." Y/n laughs then kissing Lando several times. "I think they both need a test drive."
"I was hoping you'd say that." Lando hums then nodding as one of the mechanics moves over with the keys. "Which one first, a test of the shiny new baby? Or a test of your little old man?"
"Well I think shiny new baby, and little old man can be my means of getting home." Y/n grins then moving to kiss him again. "I love you so much. I loved you before this but I think now you've got me locked in for life, even if you decide you don't want me anymore. I don't care, you've just bonded us forever."
"Baby Blue and whatever you decide to name the Jeep can be passed down as heirlooms." Lando jokes then handing her the Jeeps key. "Let's see if this Jeep gets the same treatment as Baby Blue."
"You need to stop saying I'm rough with him. He could handle it just fine." Y/n smiles earning a head shake since he knows she's making the innuendos purposely.
They get the Jeep out and y/n doesn't hide how much nicer it feels to drive a 4 wheel drive with a bit nicer suspension that is on the VW Lupo. But when they get back and arrange for the Jeep to be delivered to the house, she climbs into the little blue car and sighs sitting in the drive seat like it's home.
"Did you just buy a whole new engine?" Y/n jokes as the engine slightly more purrs to like rather than growling and clunking as it had every time since she'd owned the car. "I really can't thank you enough-for both, but especially for this."
"I really wasn't going to let you get rid of Baby Blue. I think I'll pay whatever price for you to keep this car going till long after we're gone. Might even insist he gets a spot in a museum just to guarantee he's never stripped and sold for parts." Lando laughs then leaning over and kissing her. "I'll leave you two to have your drive home alone. Can't leave my car here."
"Ok. Thank you. I'm sucking your dick so good when we get home."
Lando splutters out a laugh, sort of hoping no one heard that since his door is wide open, before climbing out the car, somewhat cocky that he knows that she will definitely follow through on that promise.
Y/n does actually get out realising she needs to thank everyone before they leave and she even tears up explaining how much it all means to her which seems to strike a couple heart strings since these guys work with cars but seeing someone so genuinely appreciate their work is a nice feeling.
Plus knowing they gave her back a car that most people wouldn't even consider looking at twice, but is valued equal to or more than the Jeep that a lot of people would probably find more eager to own. Though the powder pink may not appeal to many people, it is something she thanked them for too.
"Alright, time to go. Thanks for coming here too guys." Lando smiles waving his hand at the group after watching y/n drive away first before climbing into his own car which is actually one of his McLaren's that he keeps over here in the UK.
There's something right about seeing her drive Baby Blue again. He might not really like the car as a thing separate to y/n, but he knows how much it means to her and really he can't hold it against her for liking to drive a little banger. And he'll pay for any repairs to that little car until either y/n and him aren't on this planet or until the minuscule chance of her deciding to get rid of it comes.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane
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ashtavula · 1 month
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Hello could I maybe request the overbloters having accidentally hurt their S/o during their overblot? If not that’s fine I just wanted to ask.
cw: descriptions of injuries and blood, spoilers for the overblots
The overblotters accidentally hurt their s/o
Riddle:
-You try to avoid the massive rose tree that Riddle hurls your way, but you're just a bit too slow. The tree hits you, and you cry out as the thorns slice you open. Ace and Deuce try to help you out, and they manage to yank you out from underneath the sharp limbs. Blood drips from the cuts on your limbs, and you collapse as Riddle's overblot comes to an end.
-As soon as Riddle sees you, his tears intensify, and he begs for people to help you. In the days after that, Riddle insists on tending to your injuries. He looks guilty as he helps change your bandages, and he's insistent that you take your painkillers on time. It'll take him a long time to forgive himself for hurting you, even if it was an accident.
Leona:
-The sand being whipped around by the wind makes it difficult to see, and you get a little too close to Leona. He grabs your arm, and you yelp as his claws dig into your skin. Jack is able to distract Leona, and you break away, cradling your bleeding arm.
-Once it's all over, Leona's sharp nose picks up on the smell of blood. He storms over to you, and he tears a strip of fabric from his shirt. He presses it to your skin, trying to stop the bleeding as he barks for the others to find a medic. While you recover, Leona looks irritated by the sight of the bandages, but you know that he's just angry at himself for hurting you. And when you settle down next to him for your daily cuddles, he'll treat you like you're made of glass.
Azul:
-You knew Azul was stronger than he looked, but you never thought that you'd be on the receiving end of his tentacles. He effortlessly swats you aside, and you slam against a wall. Your head spins, and you can already tell that you've broken your arm. You curl up into a ball, choking back sobs as Leona and the others get Azul to stop his rampage.
-Azul is horrified when he realizes what happened. You see the color drain out of his face, and he lifts you up to carry you to the infirmary himself. For the next few weeks, Azul is your personal servant. Simply tell him what you want, and he's scrambling to get it for you. He feels awful about hurting you, and he's always fretting over your cast.
Jamil:
Vil:
-You gasp as you see Jamil approaching you and Kalim with a murderous look in his eyes. You quickly shove Kalim away, hoping to get him out of range of Jamil. The snakes that have replaced his hair dart towards you, and their fangs sink into your arm. Almost instantly, a blinding surge of agony shoots up your arm. You collapse to your knees, and pass out from the pain.
-You awaken a few hours later, dizzy and nauseated. You vaguely realize that you're laying down in Jamil's bed, and that he's laying down beside you. You squirm, and Jamil lifts his head. He immediately scolds you for getting too close to him during his overblot. Yet, as he lectures you, his hands check you for a fever, and he gives you medicine to help with the effects of the snake venom that's wreaking havoc on your body. As you close your eyes, still exhausted, you feel his lips press against your forehead, and he mumbles out an apology against your skin.
-Your eyes water as you accidentally breathe in some of Vil's poison. Your nose and throat start to burn, and you start tasting something metallic. Within a few moments, you're coughing up blood and struggling to get enough oxygen. You have to lean against Epel as you gasp for air, blood starting to drip from your nose.
-You faint as Vil stops overblotting, but you awaken a few minutes later to see Malleus staring down at you with his brows furrowed. You barely get the chance to open your mouth before Vil is yanking you into a tight embrace. You can feel his hands shake as he mumbles out apologies and promises to never hurt you again. Malleus may have helped you overcome the effects of the poison, but that doesn't stop Vil from fussing over you. As he insists on checking your throat for the fourth time that day, just remind yourself that he's doing it because he loves you.
Idia:
-The ground shakes, and you fail to see the piece of debris that falls from the ceiling. It hits your shoulder, and you scream as the joint is dislocated. Rook is able to quickly knot the Pomefiore uniform's long sleeves around you to form a makeshift sling, but it's a struggle to hold back the tears of pain.
-It takes a moment for Idia to realize what's wrong, but he nearly has a meltdown when he does. He's immediately rushing you off to Styx's medical professionals, leaving everyone else in the dust. He's trying to apologize to you the entire time as the doctors put your arm in a splint, but he's stuttering over his words so badly that you can barely understand them. Once you're back at NRC, Idia keeps you practically locked up in his room as you recover. Despite keeping you with him, Idia is even more hesitant to touch you, out of fear of hurting you further.
Malleus:
-Malleus' magic washes over you, and your eyes slide closed as you're forced into a dream. Unfortunately, you hit your head on the edge of a table as you fall over, and Malleus doesn't notice. While traversing the dream worlds, you keep feeling this faint ache in your head, but you brush it off.
-However, you immediately groan in pain, and cradle your head in your hands when you wake up. The distant ache in the dreams blossoms into a stabbing migraine, and the world spins around you. Malleus quickly takes notice, and he cradles you in his embrace as he worriedly asks you what's wrong. You feel the brief pull of his magic, and the agony subsides. His lips press against the side of your head, and he croons out apologies for not keeping a better eye on you. For the next few days, you have a draconic shadow that refuses to leave you alone, and thinks that copious amounts of ice cream will make you feel better after your "terrible injury."
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nexusnyx · 1 year
Text
miss sunshine
pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.
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read on ao3 | masterlist
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.
When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.
Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.
Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."
Fuck.
Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.
His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.
They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"
Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"
Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.
What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.
His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.
You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."
He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."
"Any special occasions coming up soon?"
Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"
"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."
"Brainstorming...?"
"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."
You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"
The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.
You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"
"Always," he nods.
"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.
He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.
"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.
Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"
"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"
You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."
"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"
"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"
At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."
"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."
"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.
You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."
"Yeah?"
"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.
When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.
Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.
"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."
"Aren't those the same?"
"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"
"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."
"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."
"That's true."
"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."
He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."
He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"
That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."
I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."
Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"
Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."
"And that'd be a bad thing?"
"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.
It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."
You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."
"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."
Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."
His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."
"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"
Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."
"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."
"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."
Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"
"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."
Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?
"That makes sense."
Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"
Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.
"I'll let you," you answer.
Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.
"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."
"I'll leave the door open."
"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."
"Alright, jeez," you laugh.
It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?
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When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.
It makes your brain melt.
Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.
He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.
It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.
For now.
"Brand new man?" you ask.
He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."
You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.
Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"
"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"
Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."
"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"
Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."
You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"
Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."
"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.
"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."
Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.
"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."
"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"
"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."
"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.
You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"
He pins you under his gaze.
You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.
"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.
Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."
It grounds you.
The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.
Joel talks about anything, no reservations.
In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.
Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?
He wasn't.
Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.
Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.
Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.
He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.
Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.
He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.
The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.
"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."
Joel was very attentive.
He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"
"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."
He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."
"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."
"Do you?"
"'Course. Most days."
"Oh my—"
"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."
It was easy.
Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.
He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.
In his skin.
That was intoxicating.
When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?
The first bottle end, but it's too soon.
You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.
Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.
You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."
"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.
The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"
"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."
"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."
"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."
"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"
Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"
"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.
Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.
When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."
"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"
"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."
"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."
Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."
"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."
Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.
It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...
Well, very few times.
Fuck, you think.
Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.
He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?
Once in Rome...
Fuck it.
It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.
The air outside could be felt.
When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.
He has the whole night free.
You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.
Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."
You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.
He moved his chair closer again.
"Do share," you urge.
Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."
You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.
Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.
"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."
"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.
"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."
"What did he make you promise?"
"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."
You take note of the effort he's making.
The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.
'I'll take you someday'.
'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.
So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."
Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."
You laugh. "Older and younger?"
"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."
"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."
He agrees with you.
When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.
He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.
He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.
Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.
It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.
Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.
Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.
It makes your throat dry when he does.
Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.
You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.
It's a welcomed contrast.
When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.
"Define 'like this'."
"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."
"Is that me?"
"Sure is, Sunshine."
None of the questions that people usually ask.
It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.
He pulled them from you.
When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.
Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"
Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.
"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."
Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"
"Really," he nods.
"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."
"Yeah? You made friends already?"
"A few, yeah."
"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."
"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.
Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."
"And I believe you," you nodded.
He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"
"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.
From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"
"Sure do," you nod again.
He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"
"I'm warming up to them," you smile.
Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."
"Ew, Joel," you laugh.
His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."
When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?
"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."
"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"
Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.
"You just didn't want it?" he echos.
You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."
"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"
At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"
Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."
"You are very far from boring."
"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."
Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?
"Why me?" he asks.
It's nothing more than a breath.
You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."
This was amazing already.
Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.
He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.
The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.
"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."
Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.
You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.
Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.
Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.
He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.
"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.
What could you say to that?
"You really haven't."
Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.
"Do I get a kiss, then?"
He would never have to ask you twice.
Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.
He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.
His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.
If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.
Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.
He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.
His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.
Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.
He wants to feel your body.
The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.
He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.
It makes you want to scream.
When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.
"Joel..."
Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.
You do as he says.
His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.
To not make a mess, it says.
Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.
"Is this ok?" he asks.
He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.
He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.
"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."
That gets to you.
Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.
It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.
You were right about the torture.
He enjoys it.
Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.
You can only cling onto his hair.
I dreamt about this, too.
"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.
His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.
Joel's only starting.
He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.
He eats.
Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.
That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.
Because it's good.
Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.
At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.
He pulls back for air, once.
His fingers enter you instead, two at once.
"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.
As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.
His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.
Joel looks like he could eat you like this.
"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.
"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."
Profanities.
That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.
It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"
He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.
"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"
"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."
All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.
No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.
Your vision whites out.
The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.
What a little death.
After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.
He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.
The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.
When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.
Nothing but black briefs.
You have to drop to your knees.
Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.
To him, you want to do only your best.
You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.
"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."
With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.
Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.
He shows you what strong body means.
"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.
"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.
He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.
"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."
"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.
He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.
Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."
"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."
You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.
Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.
A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.
"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;
And who are you to say no to that?
Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.
"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.
"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.
Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.
His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.
You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.
Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.
When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.
It's criminal.
Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.
The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.
You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.
So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.
"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."
There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.
Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.
Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.
"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"
You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.
He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.
He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.
It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."
It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.
Joel takes care of you afterward.
Of course he does.
Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.
"Just for a while," you ask.
He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."
Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."
"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
Text
A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.
Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.
What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.
"If that's what you want." He shrugged.
And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.
Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.
"Can I buy you another one, lass?"
"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."
He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.
Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.
"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"
"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."
He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.
"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"
He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.
Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.
Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.
You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?
"Hey, are you alright?"
Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.
If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.
You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.
"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.
Bzzt. Another text.
Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.
You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.
Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."
Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.
"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."
Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.
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luveline · 7 months
Note
Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!
tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k
cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme
"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 
Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."
"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 
"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 
You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 
"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 
"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 
"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 
He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 
Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 
"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 
You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.
Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 
He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 
"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 
"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 
"In that case, I'm staying right here." 
You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 
Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 
He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—
"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 
"Nowhere. I'm here." 
Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 
"Fine. I love you." 
"I love you," you say. 
There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 
"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 
"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 
"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 
"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  
"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 
"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 
You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 
"What are you–" 
"I'm gonna take a test." 
"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 
You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 
You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 
Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 
"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 
Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 
"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.
He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 
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yawnderu · 4 months
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Everyone agrees Keegan is a NASTY old man, yeah? He loves messy stuff. Absolutely adores spitting in your mouth AND you spitting in his, so imagine DBF!Keegan when his princess starts lactating as a side effect from medication?? This man is in heaven.
The moment he sees the stains on your shirts, all hell breaks loose. It takes him almost an hour of begging and telling you he could help, how he'd be in the wrong for not helping his princess out because all that milk is there for a reason— it needs to come out, otherwise it'll hurt you and what a horrible man he'd be if he simply stood there and watched you be in pain.
He doesn't waste any time once you give him the green light, barely managing to lift your shirt before he's latching onto your nipple, one of his hands squeezing your tit softly while the other one is running up and down your back soothingly, helping you relax while he starts drinking the milk coming out. It's sweet— something he can definitely see himself getting addicted to, sucking a little bit harder, wanting to drink more of the breast milk.
''You're like a big ass baby for liking it, weirdo.'' You try to tease despite the way his hand is now stimulating your other sensitive nipple, pinching and pulling softly until the milk starts to come out as well, not minding the mess he's making on his hand and your body. You look down and he simply offers you a grin, not embarrassed at all by enjoying this so much. He swallows before hesitantly letting go of your nipple, giving it a few teasing licks.
''I'm just helping.'' He shrugs, the smug smile on his lips telling a completely different story. The bastard is doing it because it feels good for him, now latching onto your other nipple and sucking even harder just to annoy you, slowing down when you smack the back of his head for being so rough.
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muniimyg · 3 months
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1: the confession // series m.list
note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk
fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston
//
The library is your favourite place. 
At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 
You won’t have it this time. 
No way. You have so much work to do!
"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 
“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 
“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”
“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”
“But then what if I need to throw up—”
“Then throw up.”
“... Jungkook will be there!”
You blink at him. 
“So?”
Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”
His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 
Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.
“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 
Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”
Your eyes widen.
In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”
“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”
“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 
Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 
“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”
Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 
He’s right. 
You are dense. 
But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?
“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”
“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 
“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"
Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 
“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”
“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 
You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 
Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 
He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…
Wow… 
“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.
“... H-hi.”
He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”
Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”
Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”
“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”
Hesitantly, you shake your head. 
“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 
If piss drunk, please return to ___. 
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 
“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”
Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 
“She doesn’t wanna go.”
Hobi groans. 
“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”
“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."
He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”
Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 
If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
(xxx) xxx-xxxx
For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 
“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 
“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”
“What? Why?”
Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”
Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”
You laugh.
“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”
Hobi turns to Jungkook. 
Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”
With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 
“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”
Your body stiffens.
“Do what?”
Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 
“You moved away.”
What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 
“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”
“I’m moving closer to you.”
“Why?”
“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”
“N-no!” 
Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”
“N-no…”
“Now you do.”
For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?
Oh god. 
“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?
“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 
You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”
Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 
“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”
You stay silent and contemplate.
Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—
“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”
Then, you blurt it out. 
“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 
Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 
He doesn’t deny it. 
“I do have a crush on you.”
Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?
“W-what? You can’t j-just—”
Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 
“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 
You hit his chest. 
“This isn’t funny!”
“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”
“Hey! I like it here.”
“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”
“I… I thought you wanted to study.”
Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”
“... To study!”
“To be with you.” 
You shut up. 
No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 
Okay…
Feelings. Lots of them. 
“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."
You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 
“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."
You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!
And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—
"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"
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