#just tryna hang in there so he can get some

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness" A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish. Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction. Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 

“Cooper! What happened to you?” 

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 

“Do you have any on you?” 

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 

“You ain’t gonna share?” 

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, chest pressed against his back. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-------------------

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

#Cooper Howard #Cooper Howard x You #Ghoul x Reader #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #The Ghoul x Reader #the Ghoul x you #cooper howard x oc #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #walton goggins #fallout fiends #possessive!cooper howard #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #ghouls deserve love too

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

"Whoa! That's soo interestin'...~ Tell me more."

#open #he's rlly not interested at all #just tryna hang in there so he can get some #kekeke #also lookit what a cutie he is in this icon ;0; #just cheesing

[wonryllis]

さ 𝇃𝇂 ENHYPEN WHEN THEY GET JEALOUS OVER A GUY HITTING ON YOU.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. the trigger of possesive enhypen 𖥔 ݁ fluff and love, and your man, LIBY? fem!reader requested word count ` 1513 unedited.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 you're at the mall to watch a marvel movie together all excited. and there's this boba store right next door to the cinema hall, they have your favorite flavour but there's a long ass line. heeseung baby being down bad for you is rushing to get you what you want without a thought. even if he has to miss the grand opening scenes, he's getting you that boba you love. he's literally right next up when he notices this weirdo approach you. quickly gets your drink and runs back, more like long intimidating strides with a deep ass scary voice,"babe, who's this guy?"

immediately notices the dial pad open on his phone understanding that this frog was asking for your number. does a whole public display of affection, putting in the straw, holding the cup while you take a sip, squeezing your cheeks and going,"does my sweetcheeks like it?" leaving a kiss when you nod. "m sorry do you like need directions or something?" he's so jealous right now that this guy thinks he can bag you, and he's gonna take it out by embarrassing him. what to do you're so beautiful that flies keep getting attracted, he's found a tactic for this.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 okay now this one is the wooing stage where you're seeing each other every other day but do not have a strict label yet, more like jay trying to do all it takes to win your heart. with the gentleman he is definitely it doesn't take him long but there are times when he's not so gentlemanly though not to you, you'll forever be his queen. it's friday night and he shows up at your doorstep unannounced waiting for you to get back home to surprise you with a bag of your favourite takeout. he's just steps away from your apartment door when he notices the bouquet of flowers stuck on the door with a small bag hanging beneath.

immediately searches through it to find a note with a number. types it in and makes a call giving the guy a really good piece of his mind to stay away, throwing away the flowers and the gift in the bins downstairs. and then he spots you talking to some guy? okay now he doesn't know if it's the same one or someone else so doing what would be graciously the best he walks over and pretends to be your boyfriend,"hey honeybun, i was waiting for you upstairs with this," showing the bag of food triumphantly and and then giving a sly look over to the guy.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 so you're in ikea looking for a new bed for jake because y'all broke the last one while pillow fighting on it. cliche but you get lost amidst the aisles and jake is roaming around tryna find you first whereas you are least concerned about being separated like you'll reunite at some point anyway? right? however just two meters away from your boyfriend and some dude is walking right up in between, hand scratching the back of his neck just like how jake used to do early on in the relationship.

literally as awkward as it can be, the guy going on about how he's been looking at you for a while and how he'd like to get to know you, while your eyes are trained behind him at jake who in turn is shooting daggers at the guy. you don't know what to say hoping jake would come over but he's too busy feeling the jealousy lol, "my man wouldn't like that and neither would i so plea-" "oh come on he's not here is he-" "ayo sorry to disappoint buddy, but her man's right here," at first jake was super jealous like feeling the need to claim dominance but lord the moment you referred to him as 'your man' he's forgotten all about it.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 you were meeting up for a lunch date at your favourite place. and as always hoon was running a little late, leaving you waiting outside the restaurant. you're just on a bench nearby texting on your phone, when you feel someone sit beside you. you smile, thinking it's your lovely boyfriend but when you look up you find an unfamiliar guy grinning his tooth out at you? "hey i was watching you and you seem to be alone," oh no you already feel it going bad "uh no, im not alon-" "i was wondering if you could give me your number, i'm fun to be around really," he keeps on interrupting you again and again when you try to tell him you're not interested and taken.

"my pretty girl, let's go," sunghoon shows up, taking your hand into his and leading you away into the restaurant, straight up ignoring the guy. internally he's quite literally fuming his fists iching to throw a punch at the guy who thought it was okay to hit on you like that. he excuses himself to the washroom after placing the order to secretly check if the guy is still lingering around and if he is then god save him from sunghoon's wrath lmao.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 you're in the mall,. shopping together, going around stores and trying on clothes. you find these bunch of cute floral print mini dresses and sunoo so encourages you to give it a try and see if you like it, promising to stay close by the fitting rooms to have a look and give feedback. however when you open the door for the third outfit instead of your darling there's a staff waiting around. he's immediately jumping at the opportunity to compliment how your body looks so good in it and how you rocked the previous dresses too. "uhm yeah thank you, but the man here-"

"babyyy, im so sorry i went to look some more for you and look what i found, you'd look so damn pretty in it all for me to see," sunoo walks over with a lingerie in his hand ksjskjskhhsj, he hands it over to you with a lovely smile on his face but as soon as you close the door, he's so giving it to the guy for trying to hit on you, "don't you think it is inappropriate to be saying all that to someone who clearly is not looking for and does not absolutely want your advice? and you're at work don't you have basic employee customer decency, where's your manager, i wanna speak to them,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 this guy is always on his toes to pick you up from anywhere and everywhere. this time it was the library you frequent. it was late in the evening and it was raining, the perfect scenario for jungwon to be a knight in shining armour. by the time he's reached, you're supposed to be waiting by the door as your texts said but you're nowhere to be found. baby is confused, doesn't waste a second to go inside in search of you. and he's so glad he did because the first thing he sees is you uncomfortably standing by the front desk seemingly talking to the librarian guy.

the same one whom he has always noticed giving you the ogly googly eyes whenever he's been here with you. however won never thought of doing anything about it because it never went beyond just lovey dovey stares. until today that is,"excuse me i don't think you know but this gorgeous lady right here is in a committed relationship and we'll appreciate it if you stop with these inappropriate advances, it's really disrespectful to us both," damn that guy he got the message so clearly he ain't looking your way ever again,"let's go baby," jungwon is so coddling you after.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 boy doesn't show a lot of his emotions especially in public. his best response to jealousy so far has been to stay quiet at the moment and then later on try to do more pda and all to show you're taken. this time it was valentines week and everyone at college was going around gifting chocolates and roses and other cutesy gifts. of course riki planned out a whole romantic date with your favourite flowers and sweets and everything thing you love. also he had this plan on that random people would come over to give you roses on his behalf and the last one will be him.

however it takes a twist when the random guy with the rose doesn't just leave after handing it to you, he's asking for your damn number man, riki gets so pissed, ready to throw hands more frustrated- jealous than ever especially that his secret plan is getting ruined, also he's like right beside you? "shut up, take this shit back and know your place!" he literally snatches the rose from the small bundle you hold and shoves it roughly into the guy before taking you away,"im so sorry baby for getting angry, i promise this won't happen again everyone will know you're mine,"

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader

[rinhaler]

𝖒𝖞 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ plug!ryusei shidou x f!reader

Genre: smut Notes: iiiiiii want him n need him desperately ♡ i made him icky, manipulative and dress like pete davidson warnings: 18+, (soft?)dom!shidou, sub!reader, dubcon, drug use (weed), blowbacks/shotgunning, reader has pubes!, ryusei has a gold tooth, virgin!reader, corruption kink, dumbification?, fingering, blowjob, head pushing ♡, male masturbation, use of nii-chan (not referring to ryusei), slight dacryphilia, shush!kink, praise, pet names, cum eating ♡, he calls your pussy 'her', slut used once. words: 7.1k

“No way am I coming over. Your big brother would kill me.”

Ryusei can’t stop himself from smirking when he can hear your attempt to conceal a whimper. And he just knows there’s a plump little pout on that pretty little face on the other end of the line.

He’s been dealing to your brother for years, they’re basically best friends if you subtract the client aspect from the equation. They smoke together, they’re always hanging out and Ryusei isn’t a stranger to the apartment you and your brother share.

“How did you even get my number anyway, darlin’? Reaaaal naughty of ya to be calling me like this. Gonna be in big trouble if I tell your nii-chan.” he tells you. And this time you hear the smirk behind his voice. He’s teasing you. He’s toying with you, but you still can’t stop yourself from becoming paralysed with fear.

“He gave me it for emergencies! Please don’t tell ‘im!” you sigh. “He’s on some weekend work trip because he’s tryna get a promotion. I’m just lonely…”

“Awe, and why is that my problem?” he asks, harshly. It takes you aback slightly though your determination doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath and try to formulate a response in your mind.

“You guys are always havin’ fun together… but you never let me join in. I wanna have fun with you too, Ryusei—”

“No.”

“But—”

“I said no.” he stands firm and shows no signs of backing down. He hears the little deflated exhale you release, and he licks his lips as he thinks. He doesn’t want you to be sad, but he knows fucking around with a client’s sister behind his back is a stupid fucking idea. “You’ll be alright on your own. Why don’t you invite one of your friends over.”

“W-Well… I just wanted to see you.” you tell him, honestly. “I— I wanted to try smoking with you.”

He chuckles when he hears that. It hasn’t been a discreet crush you’ve harboured since you saw him for the first time. You may have thought otherwise, but Ryusei has always known. He kisses his teeth and laughs again as he thinks about this tantalising proposition being thrown onto his lap.

“You’re really tryna get into trouble this weekend, huh? Do you always invite drug dealers over?” he wonders, knowing the answer already. He knows you’re a good girl who always does as her nii-chan says. But today you want to let your hair down. Today you can let your hair down because he isn’t here for the whole weekend. You can be a little naughty and reckless and have some fun for a change. “Are you that lonely, baby? Jus’ want some company?”

“… Y-Yes. ‘m lonely…” your lower lip wobbles as you think about being in the same apartment all by yourself for the next two days. You’re fine now, it’s only 12:30pm. But what about when it gets dark out? You’re a stupid girl who lets her mind run wild with the possibilities of ghosts and home invaders. You’ve seen one too many horror movies while your brother and Ryusei are high in the front room for no regard to your taste in genre. You hate horrors but you’ve seen so many thanks to them. And now your mind is racing. What if you got kidnapped or killed for the fun of it? “I don’t wanna be alone, Ryusei… ‘m so scared.”

He grits his teeth, resolve crumbling as he thinks about you all alone in the apartment he’s spent so many nights in. So many pointless nights where he could have been out making more money or fucking a multitude of girls who don’t hide their attraction for him. So, is he really about to sacrifice the same for you?

Lonely, frightened, you?

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? I’ll be there in twenty.”

Now that he’s here you’re not sure what you were thinking. You’ve never smoked before. You’ve not even had a sip of alcohol before! But you know drugs are Ryusei’s whole life right now. Selling, buying and occasionally consuming. He locks the door behind himself as he enters. He’s wearing a wide grin as he comes in and approaches you.

He thinks you’re just the sweetest little thing.

Your feet walk you backwards as he gets closer to you, lunging forward to grab you when you almost trip over your pink Kirby slippers that your brother got you for your most recent birthday.

“Clumsy girl.” he grins, gripping into the fat of your underarms. He leads you over to the couch and more or less throws you down onto it. He dumps his backpack on the coffee table. “What time does your brother come home, sweetheart?” he asks, not even looking your way as he takes out his belongings and spreads them out on the table.

“Uh—” you think, eyes squinting as you look up at the ceiling and try to act natural. “Monday… morning.” you tell him.

“Well, I’m sure he won’t mind if I keep you company ‘til he gets back, right?”

“R-Right…” you aren’t so sure about that, but you’re hardly going to disagree with him. Though in truth, he knows he’ll be furious. But the time he cared about your pathetic brother’s opinion has been and gone. What kind of man would he be if he left a poor defenceless thing like you all on your lonesome in such a sketchy part of town?

You watch him carefully as he pulls out a grinder, some papers, and a large baggie of weed and puts them all down on the table. Your mind wanders as he describes the effects to you, none of it is computing. And it gets even worse when he starts talking about different strains doing different things. As far as you were aware, weed was just… weed. You’d never heard about strains or effects. All of your knowledge comes from movies. Tripping, munchies, all of the cliché stuff.

He grins when he sees your dumb expression. Of course you’re not understanding anything he says. All you need to know is that you’ll be okay because he’s here to look after you. He’s here to take you through it.

You watch him as he grinds it up in a tall metallic grinder. And seeing him roll is like witchcraft to you. It’s not like it’s the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve seen it up close. Your nii-chan always exiles you to your bedroom when they’re rolling and smoking. You’re only allowed out once they’re high, though it’s never stopped you peaking from the crack of your door.

Your eyes widen in disbelief as he holds eye contact with you while he licks the paper. Suddenly you’re looking anywhere but in his direction. He’s revelling in it, making you so uncomfortable and shy. You really are sweet ‘n innocent, huh?

“Here.” he hands it to you, his voice earning your attention and you look into his pink eyes before they drop to the blunt in his hand. You look back at him, confused, and he finds himself adjusting the baggy shorts he’s wearing in hopes that you haven’t noticed the way his cock jumps when you tilt your head so stupidly. “What? This is what you wanted.” he speaks, his defensive tone surprising you.

“But… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never smoked before…”

“Never? Not even a cigarette?” he asks.

“Nothing… never smoked or had a drink or even been to a party. Nii-chan is too protective.” you pout. He wants to fucking ruin you. You’re so fucking cute and stupid he thinks he might cum in his underwear just from hearing you speak. You’re so obedient and it makes you so fucking stupid. As if you aren’t a grown woman who could get her own apartment and do whatever she wants. “Will you show me?” you speak, cutting through his thoughts.

He nods, effortlessly. He lounges back into the couch, legs spread wide as he lets the blunt balance between his lips. It’s lit instantly, and you can’t believe what a pro he is. He’s got one of those stupid lighters. The ones with the metal bit you have to spin with your thumb rather than one of the plastic ones you just push down. You can never use them. Your brother always lends them to you when you want to light a candle, but he always ends up lighting them for you.

“Get me somethin’ to use as an ashtray.” he tells you, it’s a rude demand rather than a request. But his lack of manners doesn’t stop you from immediately jumping to your feet and rushing over to the kitchen sink. You just washed your brother’s ashtray this morning. You smile happily as you hand it to him, clearly willing to do anything he asks whether he’s polite about it or not.

He takes a few more drags and flicks the ash every so often. And when he’s halfway through, he looks at you, expectantly.

“Your turn.” he tries to hand it to you again. You take it, and you flinch as he also forces the lighter into your palm. “You didn’t invite me over just to watch me smoke, did you? What, are you trying to take advantage of me?” he laughs, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. His golden canine twinkles at you, halting you from speaking for longer than you’d intended.

“It’s not like that! I just— I’m nervous, and I hate these lighters.” you explain. You stiffen as he rolls his eyes and adjusts his body, angling it to face you. His stare is harsh, bordering on agitated. It’s only fair, you think. He hadn’t planned on spending his day babysitting you or showing you how to do something so simple. “’m sorry.” you speak, it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it. Almost.

“Open up.” he commands. You’re confused at first, and before you know it his rough thumb is tugging at the fat flesh of your lower lip. “I said: open up.”

You clear your throat and angle your body in a similar way to him. Although you’re nowhere near as tall or intimidating as him. You’re like a sullen little dormouse, respecting the orders of your master. Your lips part ever so slightly as he places the blunt between them. Your lips close around it, keeping it perched firmly between them. He can see lip gloss residue smearing on the paper; his depraved mind is going into overdrive. His lewd thoughts encompassing him, he needs to break free and focus on you before you start to ask more silly questions.

He tucks your hair behind your ears and away from your face. A brief thought crosses his mind of how embarrassing it would be to get caught by your brother because he singed your fucking hair.

“Don’t just suck it, yeah? Breathe it. You wanna feel it go in your chest, alright?” he asks you, it sounds like a reminder. Like he’d already told you this and he’s making sure you are listening this time. It’s hard not to when all you can focus on is him. How he’s staring at you. How he smells like cheap aftershave and weed. The smell of weed is revolting, truth be told, you aren’t sure how you’re going to be able to inhale it without gagging.

He flicks the lighter a few times and keeps an eye on your expressions and your breathing to make sure you’re doing it right. You look terrified.

And he likes it.

Your eyes get wider and wider the more you inhale, and he’s worried they might pop out of that pretty head of yours. You suck and you breathe in as much of the earthy smoke as you can until it embraced your lungs like an invader claiming its new home. He can’t hide his laughter when you begin to choke, realising you are the good girl you’re claiming to be and absolutely have never smoked anything in your life.

“Everything hurts.” you tell him, still coughing and sputtering out lingering smoke as your eyes water. “It tastes like shit…” you continue, covering your mouth as you can’t stop yourself from choking anymore. He gets up, handing the ashtray to you to balance the blunt in and he flees the scene of the crime without a word. He returns a few moments later with a glass of water, he even added in a few ice cubes for you.

“Think you’re all grown up because you’ve had your first puff?” he wonders, “Never heard you swear before, darlin’.” he finishes as he hands the glass to you.

“I swear… I’m allowed to swear, Ryu.” you answer defiantly.

Cute, he thinks. You really are trying to sound all big and bad for him. But he’s never going to take you seriously after that little display, you’re just a little girl trying to act tough. A cute girl trying to be the cool girl.

But you both know you’re far from cool. A cool girl wouldn’t care so much about pleasing her brother and being a good girl for him. A cool girl would do whatever she wants without fear of the consequences.

At least you’re trying, he thinks.

You glug and you glug until you soothe the suffocating dryness in your chest. He’s transfixed on a droplet of water clinging to the corner of your mouth, unable to tear his gaze as it begins to run down your face. And he can’t think of a cuter sight than you still trying to be the cool girl, wiping it away with the back of your hand before he can notice despite it being much too late for that.

“C-Can I do some more?” you ask him, big wet eyes blinking at him as you hope he’s still willing to guide you.

“Think you can handle it?” he asks. “Get some more water.” he commands, not even letting you answer first. It’s probably the right call, though, you’re hardly going to be accustomed to the feeling of smoke contaminating your insides after one heavy inhale.

You follow his pathing from moments before, getting yourself some water and fresh ice cubes before returning and facing him again. You drink so much; he grabs your wrist and moves the glass away from your lips before you down the whole thing.

He lets out a heavy breath as he holds the blunt and sees how your lips immediately part for him this time without being asked. Fast learner. His thumb pulls at the metal wheel twice, each time it sounds make your eyes flicker further open.

“Breeeathe.” he demands, and you obey. You take it waaaay better this time, holding it for longer after he pulls the lighter away and takes the blunt from your lips. “That’s it, atta girl.” he smiles as you slowly exhale, only coughing a little bit. Your little hands are immediately reaching for the glass of water you set down moments before.

“I feel…” you try and think, eyes darting around the room in search of the right words to use. Your eyes close without your permission, humming happily as you embrace the feeling, a cheery smile visible on your face. “Weird…” you giggle, deeming it the only appropriate word that springs to mind.

“Is that right, baby? Feelin’ weird?”

“Mhmm.” you sigh, dreamily, letting the feeling consume you wholly. You want to melt into the couch beneath your thighs; and you involuntarily begin to lean back into the plush leather before Ryusei stops you. “My eyes are hurting, Ryusei…”

“Mm, I’ll bet. They’re all bloodshot, princess. Think you’re high.” he smirks.

“Wan’ some more.” you tell him, reaching to take the blunt from his hold. He moves his hand away. The fat, brown joint just out of your tired reach. And fuck he can’t stop his cock from twitching when you don that pout. That pretty little pout that you can’t stop yourself from displaying any time you’re disheartened. “P—lea, p-please…” your lower lip juts out further.

“C’mere.” he instructs you, his empty hand patting at his adjacent thigh. He sees the hesitation in your eyes. The little protest lodged in your throat as you think what a bad idea this could be. Why does he want you to sit on his lap? Your heart is racing with possibilities. Is he going to try and kiss you? Or is it simply an easier position for him to help you smoke? “Move, baby, now.” his voice is firm, almost scary. Your movements are slow, but you find yourself moving on his order regardless.

You go to him, but he stops you as you try and sit nicely in his lap. It isn’t quite what he had in mind. He doesn’t want to baby you like the princess you want to be for him. You’re like a ragdoll as he positions you, limbs loose beneath his touch until you realise you’re straddling him. His legs are spread wide, relaxed, and you’re hovering above him a little.

“Open your mouth f’me.” you’re like a robot, complying with each and every command he issues without hesitation.

You’re too good, too perfect. And Ryusei Shidou is quite the opposite; he’ll ruin you if you aren’t careful.

But right now, you couldn’t care less.

Your dewy lips part, wider than they had earlier until Ryusei seems satisfied. He’s relieved you’re only hovering over him, or you’d have definitely felt the way his dick twitched at the sight of your pudgy lips widening for him.

He relaxes, fully, his own eyes becoming more bloodshot as the minutes go by. Weed doesn’t affect him like it used to, not in the way it’s affecting you. But he’s calm. All of his thoughts are collected, and he feels at peace. It’s probably the reason he’s being so brazen and not giving a second thought to the consequences of being with you anymore.

While you’re waiting for his vision to be realised, while you’re waiting for the reason as to why he wants you in this position with your lips spread, he lights up the blunt once again. You watch him through a heavy-lidded stare as he takes a hefty inhale.

You sense him planning something, the cogs whirring sinfully in his mind as he looks between your eyes and your lips as he inhales the smoke deeper and deeper into his lungs. He rests his arm over the rest of the couch, harbouring zero consideration for the potential ash staining the cream carpet below.

He tries to close the distance between your bodies, and you instinctively jolt away from him, your lips clamping shut just as quickly. As much as he wants to smile, to laugh, his lips remain neutral and sealed. His empty hand holds the small of your back. His fingers drift, trailing up the column of your spine. He flattens his palm between your shoulder blades, pushing your face and body closer to his. His right hand remains between your shoulder blades, the other coming around to tug your viscid lower lip until your mouth is ajar. He leans in, closer. The closest he’s ever been to you in the entire time you’ve known him.

He's going to kiss you.

Your heart is thumping, the intense beating, hammering your heart through blood, muscle tissue and flesh. Your eyes close instinctively, and at that, he does smirk.

His eyes alternate between yours, and your gloss covered lips. And then his are ghosting yours, not close enough to touch but not far enough for you to not feel their presence. His gaze becomes heavy, lustful as he observes you. He’s fixated on how you react as he blows the smoke from his lungs into yours.

Your eyes widen as you realise he isn’t kissing you, but your mind is hazy as you realise what he is doing. His lungs shrink as he empties them, but he doesn’t move. He smiles, though, and you fucking feel it. He’s waiting patiently to see just how desperate you are for him to kiss you.

Your breathing is intense. He can hear each breath you take through your nose as you try and compose yourself. You try and calm down and hide your burning shame from him. He knew what you’d assume and chose not to correct you. Just to see you squirm.

But you want to kiss him.

You want him to kiss you.

He chuckles lightly when he sees a nervous little gulp plummet down your throat, he’s sure if he blinked he would have missed it. He wonders if your eyes always vibrate so intensely when you’re nervous.

“Did you like that?” he whispers, his lips still inching away from yours. You feel each and every breath it takes for him to speak that sentence.

“Yeah…”

“Yeah?”

“Mm… mhmm…” you nod, eagerly and yet somehow still awkwardly. “D— Can you do it again?” you whisper. It’s so meek and downright precious he can feel pre fucking ooze out of his tip.

He adjusts his position, nodding, his lips almost catching yours but not quite before he pulls away to smoke some more. Your lips part beautifully and he’s smiling sinisterly yet again. His hand travels from your back to hold the crown of your head, you can’t back away this time, not that you’d want to. He’s keeping you in place as he slowly begins to puff smoke past your desperate lips.

You moan, involuntarily, as you feel your mind cloud and your body grow wearier. But still, you can’t get enough. You can’t fully satiate your desires of intoxication. Not with drugs. Not with attention. Not with touch. You need him. More of him.

“Baby?” you hear him mumble, his lips clumsily toying with yours as he refuses to fully close the gap between them. “I think ya wanna kiss me.”

You squeak, almost, a high pitch whine sounding through your nose as the uncomfortable statement surges through you. Were you so pitifully obvious the whole time? You lean in closer, attempting to close the separation between you. But he pulls away, ever the tease, and he can’t help but relish the whimper that claws its way up your throat.

“You ever even kissed anyone?” he asks, closing the gap once again. “Y’know, since you’re such a good girl.”

You feel the tips of your ears and face begin to sear with heat, embarrassment flooding through your blood. You nod, defiantly, doing all you can to assure him you’re not the big loser he seems to think you are.

“I have… ‘ve had boyfriends before… Ryu…” you tell him, though it’s still a little humiliating.

“So,” he starts, his hand holds your hip as he adjusts himself slightly. Thumb stroking your side calmly, despite his cock driving ever so gently into your core as he moves. Not hard enough to set off alarm bells, but just enough to leave a lasting impression. He bites lip and releases it just as fast as his eyes rake over you, and you feel so small under his stare, despite him being the one looking up at you. His fingers weave and comb through your hair until he gets a tight enough grip. Your noses are touching before he tilts his head, your lips barely lingering on one another’s as you each fight against fully committing. “If I kiss you right now, it’s gonna be worth my time?” he whispers.

In truth, it’s been a while since you kissed anyone. You haven’t had a boyfriend since high school and that seems like a lifetime ago now. But you don’t want to go another second without feeling his lips fully pressed against yours. So, you nod. It’s weak and unconvincing, but you nod anyway.

It’s enough for him. In truth, he wouldn’t have cared if you’d never been kissed before. He’d be more than happy to teach you, though he’s sure he’ll teach you plenty anyway. He’s going to turn you into a masterpiece; one that has been created only for him to enjoy.

His lips slot against yours and it’s like an explosion. You’ve been fucking starved for him, and you can barely remember to breathe as it intensifies. Suctioning sounds repeat as you kiss without stopping. Neither of you remember to come up for air until you’re gasping.

Your lips part divinely as his tongue pushes past them and it’s so rapturous as your little wet muscle meets his. He groans, loudly, as he licks and swipes all while you’re moaning pathetically into his mouth. He bets your soaked, he’s rock hard and leaking like a virgin getting his first hand job after all.

“Stick out your tongue.” he tells you, and like always, you do as you’re told. He licks at it, swirls his own tongue around it. He sucks it until he’s heady with lust.

His body collapses against the back of the couch, and like the perfect pet you follow him. You can’t stop making out with him now. You can’t possibly get enough. You doubt it would even be enough to crawl inside his skin and live out the rest of your days there.

You’re addicted to him.

He pushes your body down so that your crotch is fully pressed into his. The feeling of his throbbing cock almost entirely against your panty-clad mound is a surprise to say the least, you hadn’t expected it and your surprised expression gives you away instantly. But he doesn’t comment right away, instead, he grinds his crotch against yours as you carry on kissing. Your breath fans across his face, you’re delirious from the sensation of him being against you like this, you’ve never known anything quite like it.

“Feel what you’re doin’ to me?” he chuckles, parting away from you enough to look up at you again and lick his lips. But you chase him, you think you might stop breathing if you deny yourself of him. Your tongue pushes past the seam of his lips, and of course he doesn’t object. He feels your little wet muscle searching for something, and he can’t contain the amused scoff when he realises you were tracking down his gold tooth, the tip of your tongue licking it from behind all of the way to the front until you reach his gums. “Fuck… you’re filthy.” he informs you before kissing you again.

You giggle before he yanks at your hair. Flirtatious laughter being forced into a tantalising gasp, your head angled so that you’re looking up at the ceiling above. The column of your neck is almost enough to make him cum. It’s so fucking bare. So pure and untainted. He wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you. To cover you in hickeys and bite marks so that everyone knows what he fucking did to you.

But he knows, deep down, it isn’t worth it. It isn’t worth the questions and the bullshit and the drama. Not this time, anyway. Instead, he leaves gentle kisses and soft suckles against your skin. His tongue leaves fat, wet stripes over your throat and pulse point, hot breath fanning over them between kisses. You’re keening for him as his lips begin to ascend. You’re shuddering against him as he breathes heavily, deliciously, into your ear. His hand drifts to squeeze your tit over your crop top as he continues to breathe thickly into your ear canal. The intensity forcing your skin to break out in goosebumps.

You mewl, and it’s a fucking siren song as he sucks on your earlobe. He drives his covered cock up into you as he takes the cartilage between his teeth, alternating between that and sucking like he’s trying to get milk from nipple.

“Does anyone else know what a naughty little thing you are?” he talks directly into your ear, thumb rubbing over the thin material of your top, your hardened nipples unfortunately hidden behind your push up bra. “Or do you only get like this f’me?”

“Jus’ you…” you sigh, your arm wraps around his neck so that you can hold his head the same way he had yours. Tiny little fingers toy with blonde and pink tufts, he groans slightly at the comforting feeling.

“Darlin’… you know you have to pay, don’tcha?” he asks. It’s so out of the blue, you push away from him. He grins as he watches the confusion and horror take over your facial expression. You were so blissfully at peace, lost in the feeling of his lips and his touch all over your body. “Drugs aren’t free, y’know.”

“B-But…” you think, panicking, “I— nii-chan only left me enough for emergencies…” you tell him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. He offers a fake little pout, tutting at your excuse. It’s so feeble and pathetic and he loves how easy it is to mess with you.

“Awe, baby.” he offers faux sympathy, his thumb stroking over your cheek yet again. “You better do what I say then, yeah? Gonna have to keep bein’ a good girl f’me, ‘n then we can forget the whoooole thing.”

“What do you want me to—”

He thrusts his hips up, and you lose balance, falling perfectly into his arms. He tugs at your crop top, urging you to take it off. You start pulling it upwards, though it’s too slow for his liking. He yanks it over your head, getting a quick eyeful of your tits and aqua blue bra before he sucks hard into the fat flesh of your breasts.

You’re too busy moaning, rolling your hips against him to notice he has unclasped your bra with one hand. He pulls carefully at the straps, ridding you of the material covering part of your modesty. He bites his lip and breathes heavily as he ogles them. You feel the way his cock pulses against your cunt.

“S’fuckin’ pretty—” he muses. You feel different, now. You’re fully on display for him and you are completely at his mercy. Your rational mind is telling you to give him the emergency money your brother left and send him on his way. But sadly for you, your poor neglected pussy wants him to stay and have his way with you. “You’ve gotta suck my cock, baby. Now.” he demands.

Your heartrate sky-rockets. Things are moving so fast you can barely process it at all. You look down between your thighs and see the ever-growing bulge in his shorts. Can you argue with him? Reason with him? It doesn’t matter either way, you’re already sliding carefully onto the ground and getting down on your knees between his spread legs. You aren’t sure where to start. Everything you think about doing dies a sudden death with each new idea that comes to the forefront of your mind.

“Pull it out, hurry up.”

Little hands shake as nimble fingers grip onto the waistband of his shorts. You pull and you pull and he lifts his body to help in your efforts. He almost grunts as his cock springs free, pearlescent pre leaking a ton from his twitching slit.

“Mmmm…” he moans as he grips his cock at the base, shaking it a few times so that the tip hits your nose softly, soupy liquid sticking to you as he does. “Be a good girl, show me how bad you can be.”

There’s not a single universe where you’re successfully concealing your apprehension from him, though he thinks nothing of it. He thinks you’re nervous because you’ve had a crush on him for quite some time now and you don’t want to disappoint him. Your hands carry on shaking as you grab onto his length. He’s huge, both of your little hands are holding him in your grasp and there’s still more of his thickness unable to be held.

You think to start off you should clean the tip; you lick and lave over his throbbing head and your face scrunches as you register the warm tanginess permeating your tastebuds.

His body almost dissolves into the couch as you start to take more and more of him. He shoos your hands away and holds himself so that you can balance your hands on his thighs. His free hand holds your head, forcefully attempting to shove you further and further down on his length until you’re choking on him. You’re spitting and sputtering just like you had when you smoked.

“S’cute.” he moans. The light praise encourages you to keep trying for him. So, you do, try. You try to give him mind blowing head. You try to remember to use your tongue to keep him nice and stimulated as you bob up and down on his cock. You even remember one of your friends telling you that squeezing your thumbs stops you from gagging as much.

But it’s all in vain.

Ryusei hisses, flinching from an amalgamation of too much teeth and not enough spit. He snatches you away by your hair, seeing red veins stabbing through the whites of your eyes as they begin to gloss over. A watery sheen telling him of your deepest shame and embarrassment.

“Are you a fucking virgin, baby?” he wonders. His cock spills more pre as he sees tears fall from your eyes and cascade down your cheeks. The little sniffles you can’t stop are a symphony to him and he can see the way your throat is choking back audible cries. He can hear the little croaks trapped there, though, poor thing. “Never sucked a cock before, have you?”

“’m s-so sorry.” you stop fighting your losing battle as you start to cry, utterly humiliated that your secret has come to light because you did such a terrible job giving head. “I’ll— g-get my purse ‘n then you can just g-o. I’m sor—”

He leans forward, hand snaking between your thighs to cup your cunt. “Never had a cock in her, huh? What about fingers? Anybody ever ate your pussy, sweetheart?”

“N-Nothing!” you speak, almost defiantly though that wasn’t your intention. You’re feeling vulnerable and defensive. You’re embarrassed, and he has his hand somewhere nobody has ever touched you before. “Only kissed before…”

“Mmm… no wonder you’re so wet.” he speaks, though he isn’t seeking a reply. He’s simply musing to himself. He should have known, really. When would you get a chance to fuck and learn how to suck cock when your brother practically holds you hostage in this shit hole apartment? “I won’t fuck you, today. You’re not gonna suck my cock either. Come here.” he continues, he grabs both of your wrists and drags you back to your previous position with little effort. You’re above him, again, your thighs straddling his. “Stand up, actually.” he orders, you obey.

Your tits are still exposed and you’re standing in nothing but your pleated mini skirt and silk panties beneath. He twirls his finger, encouraging you to do a spin for him. You complete it, quickly, your skirt raising ever so slightly and exposing a peak of pink silk before you find a neutral position once more.

“Slower.” he tells you, so you spin again. Slower, just for him. “Stop.” he tells you when your back is facing him.

“Is something wrong, ah—!” you yelp as he ruthlessly kicks the inside of your ankles until your legs are spread apart from each other.

“Bend over, put your hands on the table.” he instructs you. You’re slow in doing so, not wanting to rush this time; though you still feel your heartbeat in your throat. Your skirt rides up, the pink silk completely covering your most precious secret. Though he grunts at the sight, unable to control himself. His jaw clenches and bubbles at the sight of brunette curls peaking from the sides of your panties. “Holy shit, fuck.” he sibilates, thick long fingers hooking into the pink silk. He wastes no time tearing them from your body, shoving them into the pocket of his hoody.

He grabs the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh under your little skirt and parting your pussy lips in the process. He’s enamoured by the sight, the way your arousal has soaked your pubic hair. It’s shimmering, he can’t help but to touch and toy with your pubes when they’re taunting him like this. He can’t remember the last time he fucked a girl with a cute bush of hair like yours. It’s always fucking waxed and landing strips and of course he won’t complain, but seeing your intimate form in all of it’s glory like this… you’re perfect. You’re fucking holy.

He pushes a single finger hastily into your wet hole. You almost fall forward; you cry out from the feeling of being stretched for the very first time.

“Never shave this fucking pussy, yeah? Leave it like this f’me.”

You don’t reply, mind spiralling from the feeling of pain and pleasure as he burrows his finger in deeper and begins to curl it when he feels that perfect little spongy spot buried deep. Your cheeks are stained with glittering tears, the overbearing living room light not offering you any courtesy in that regard. Your tear-stricken face will be exposed to him, eventually.

Will he care?

Will he show concern?

Will he be sympathetic since he is the cause?

It appears not. He holds no consideration as he pummels a second finger inside of your gummy interior. He scissors them again and again and again until you’re practically screaming. It feels worse when he pushes against the spot. That spot that blinds your fucking vision.

“A-Ah. Aaah—!” you sob, scream, anything your body can physically project in your current state. It almost feels like an out of body experience. “Ouch! Ow, R-Ryusei. Hurts! Hurtin’ me—!” you explain. He wraps an arm around your midsection, fingers still cosy deep inside. He pulls you back, your spine flush against his chest. His hand moves from your stomach to your mouth, silencing your cries and whimpers as his fingers carry on battering your g-spot.

“Shhh, it’ll feel good in a minute.” he informs you. “Rub your clit, baby, show me how you touch this virgin cunt.” your entire body becomes scalding in an instant, the lewd language and very notion that you masturbate filling you with unease. But without question, your fingers find the swelling nub between your pussy and begin to rub and rub.

He rests his forehead against your shoulder, smiling down as he hears painful cries turn to libertine moans. His smothering hand frees your airways, allowing you to send your mewling into the airspace freely. He squeezes his cock, hard, and begins to masturbate himself. A sticky, clacking sound filling the room. It’s mixing in with the sound of your squelching cunt.

Your eyes cross as he finds a perfect rhythm with you. You’re sure you look like a bona fide whore, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re balancing on the balls of your feet with your legs spread open wide, putting your cunt on full display. Your left hand digs into the leather arm rest beside you, the only form of balance you have.

You’re so fucking loud. He’s never heard anyone scream or moan as loudly in his life, though he’s one to talk. He’s on the verge of cumming after so much torment and he couldn’t be more vocal if he tried.

“D-Do you want all the neighbours to hear what a little slut you are? Want ‘em to tell your brother you got fucked stupid while he was gone?” he asks, it’s rhetorical, of course. He doesn’t care that you’re being loud. He just wants to torment you, tease you and build that unadulterated shame that you’ve had embedded in you your whole life. You are the product of repressed sexual urges. Would you have let a drug dealer strip you and play with your cunt if you weren’t so desperate and needing to be toyed with?

“’m gonna c-cum. Fuck, Ryusei! Cumming f-for you—!” you cry, your walls squeezing his fingers until they feel close to breaking. “Oh my god…” you sob. Your poor little virgin slot throbbing and pulsating around his thick heavy fingers and you continue to cum for what feels like a lifetime. His curling fingers dragging out the feeling for as long as humanly possible.

“Hah- haah- ah, fuck!” he finishes, white, gluey fluid shooting up your back. He fucks his fist until he drains every last drop from his swollen balls. He admires his work, smearing the remaining residue on your ass cheek and your skirt. He wonders if you’ll remember to wash it, God forbid your stupid brother find a cum stain on it.

He scrapes his cum onto his fingers and orders you to face him. He brings his sperm to your lips, expecting you to know what to do.

“Eat.” he says. You hesitate. He wants you to what? It’s a liquid, you can’t eat it. Does he want you to lick his fingers? Put them in your mouth? He’s sick of waiting, however, forcing them by your lips until the bitter taste coats your tongue. “Eat it.” he looks at you with venom in his stare.

You hold his hand sweetly with both of yours. He watches you as you suck his fingers, internally thinking how much better you are doing this than you are at sucking cock. He bears his teeth, the golden one glimmering in your eye once again as you continue to clean the cum from his digits.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl. It’ll get the taste of weed out of your mouth.” he tells you. You finish sucking, releasing his fingers with a gentle pop before placing his hand back on your thigh.

He allows his fingers to lightly caress your skin. The pads carefully glide over you as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him for the final time during this encounter. But he wanted to fuck you, didn’t he? He wanted you to suck him off properly, too. He’ll let it go for today, but this certainly won’t be the one and only time you’ll bare it all for him.

You still owe him for the weed, after all.

He thinks he might set up a depraved little payment plan for you.

© 2023 rinitxshi

#ryusei shido x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #ryuusei shidou x reader #shido ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #shido ryuusei x reader #shido x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #shidou smut #ryusei shidou smut #shidou ryusei #ryusei shidou #blue lock smut #bllk smut #shidou x you #ryusei x reader #blue lock #bllk #shidou ryuusei smut #shido ryusei smut #shidou ryusei smut #shidou bllk #ryusei shidou bllk #shidou bluelock #tw dubcon #tw drug use #tw dumbification #tw dacryphilia

[comatosebunny09]

warm-bodied | leon k.

genre(s): erotica, romance warning(s): female reader, soft dom leon, choking, clothed petting, mentions of bodily fluids, language, light dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, size kink, brief somnophilia, dry humping, stream of consciousness, lowercase, not proofread, written while under the influence now playing: some days - stella jang

he prefers you like this.

without the knit of your brows or the upturn of your lips. defenses buried beneath the gravel, your voice soft with sleep. no sharp quips, no biting comebacks. just your lids dancing and your mouth parting slightly with each exhale.

he likes it best when he can get away with stroking your cheek with the flat of his nails as you dream of pretty things. when he can root his nose into the curve of your shoulder and inhale.

you smell like earth and heady things, and you shift the slightest bit in his arms, nuzzling further into the safety of his body. cling to the fabric of his shirt like a grabby child, and the notion makes his lips—and dick—twitch.

the rain taps a steady rhythm on your makeshift shelter—a tarp he fashioned between two trees to shield you from the elements. 

you needed the rest, your bones shaky with fatigue. leon insisted after you reconvened following a split-up to gather intel. after you stumbled into his back when he took the lead to resume your search for the president’s daughter. wasn’t like you to be so out of sorts. so naturally, being the good partner leon was, he herded you to safety—or some semblance of it.

you allowed him to hold you beneath the veil of night. to ward off the insistent chill because you were soaked to the bone, your clothes sticking to you like a second skin. and he was warm and so very big, and…

well, he was just helping out his partner, right? definitely not swelling with something feral at the sight of your body wrapped snug in his coat and you burrowing into his armpit like a scared little bunny.

besides, it isn’t often he has you like this. in the clench of his arms, his fingers meandering along the skin of your neck. dragging further downward towards the divot between your collarbones, grazing over your breasts. further still, on an unhurried excursion to your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt. from the cold or his touch, he isn’t sure. but the sight of them makes him bite his lip as he chokes on a groan.

you stir when you feel him. clear the phlegm from your throat, your lids still heavy with sleep.

“leon,” you warn, voice rivaled by the patter of the rain overhead.

“i know.” humor hangs in the depths of his voice, interweaved with something sensual. something disarming. “just tryna help keep you warm, is all.”

snort. “we don’t have time for the nonsense.” 

leon scoffs. feigns hurt, his ministrations never faltering. sure, danger looms between each crackle of a tree branch. between every hoot of an owl in the distance, every whisper of wind, but—

a well-placed nipple pinch invokes a bitten-off growl from your throat. and he smiles at that, sighing hot and open-mouthed against the space behind your ear.

“we’ll make time, sweetheart.”

a promise clings to the air like the oaky aroma of petrichor, and he doesn’t miss how your thighs clench at the rumble of his voice. how you arch the slightest bit, pushing your breasts into the calluses of his hands, still feigning sleepiness. give him the go-ahead to touch you more, and he’s every bit of smug now as he kneads, plucks, and flicks his fingernails over your pretty, pretty nipples.

and, oh, how he wants to taste them; roll them over the bumps and grooves of his tongue, between his teeth. but given the angle and the timing, he’ll have to settle for this.

“gonna take care of you,” he huffs into the delicate hairs at the nape of your neck. hands dip a little further down, coasting over the ripples of your rib cage, massaging the meat of your belly, melding to your hipbones. “promise.”

you shudder, growing a little boneless, legs instinctively parting. and leon heeds the invitation, his nails raking up and down the inner sanctum of your thighs, all honey slow and teasing. and he intentionally nudges your meaty outer labia with the knuckles of his thumbs, and they’re swelling and fat in your pants, pulsating with each touch. he coos alongside you, infatuated by the beautiful noises he invokes upon touching you there.

you shiver again, a cute whimper easing past your lips. the sound shoots straight to his cock, painfully hard.

“want me here?” he croons. you nod all too quickly, earning a chuckle from him.

leon needs no further goading, taking to massaging your pussy through your pants with a cupped palm and artful fingers. revels in those breathy little sounds leaving your mouth and how your head falls back against his shoulder. and he’s there, mouthing over your carotid, sinking his teeth into whatever flesh he can reach.

his name drifts from your lips in a gentle cadence—in a dulcet supplication that makes his head spin, and he unconsciously grinds in tandem with the steady undulation of your hips. mind filled only with you you you. with getting you off. with tasting the briny tang of your cum. with being buried deep in the searing clench of your pussy, and the notion makes him nip at your shoulder to mask the pathetic little whimper burbling in his throat.

“right there?” he dotes at a particular buck of your hips, and your thigh craters beneath his fingers as he squeezes to anchor you down, keeping your legs spread so he can play at the seam of your pussy. “keep ‘em open for me, baby. yeah, just like that. gooood girl.”

he’s breathless now, sweat beading on his temple, because watching your resolve wither away has him leaking pre-spend and rutting into the cleft of your ass like a beast in heat. you burn hot as he shackles your neck with his hand, unraveling you little by little, your cunt so very wet and warm and weeping into his palm. and his hold on your throat tightens until he feels your pulse beat violently against the lines of his palm and your breath hitches.

“oh fuck, leon! so—so close! i’m gonna…i’m gonna—”

“yeah? gonna cum, baby? want you to. so bad. fuck. please.”

like a frayed bowstring stretched taut beyond its limits, you snap. topple as quickly as leon built you up, your slick saturating his fingers through the thickness of your cargo pants. and fuck fuck fuck, it’s embarrassing how quickly he cums after, drawn to his peak by the erratic stutter of your hips and that sinful tongue of yours curling around his name. he soaks his pants like an overzealous teen, fighting against his labored breaths and the urge to push you onto your back to fuck his cum into you.

but as the dust settles and the rainfall filters back in through the static of his mind, you look at him with a lazy smile. with a quirk to your brow, your gaze all-knowing and swimming with exhaustion.

“well, that’s one way to keep a girl warm.”

to which leon snorts, tugging you back into his arms, lips pursed and tender on the crown of your head.

masterlist

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil fic #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #tw: smut #tw: choking #tw: language #cw: bodily fluids

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏:𝟒𝟓𝐩𝐦

“i told ya to stay at home,” rafe says, fingers gripping the steering wheel of his truck tightly, knuckles turning white before your eyes. you don’t look up at him—your moody gaze focusing out of the window instead, staring at the trees and the pavement instead of your boyfriend.

maybe you shouldn’t have complained so much. you know he’s right, because after all, you had begged to tag along with him for the day. normally rafe can hold his own—can refuse and let you down easy with a promise to come back later and spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want, which is more often than not just crashing at tannyhill and watching a movie. you inevitably fall asleep and stay the night, just like what had happened last night. 

and then this morning, clad just in rafe’s button-up and some socks, you pad up to him and look at him sweetly.

“no, no, you’re jus’ gonna start complainin’ the second you get bored-” 

“i won’t! no complaints here, none,” you had insisted, giving him your best pout and puppy eyes. 

“i have real shit to get done today, kid, important business-”

“i won’t say anything! you won’t even know i’m there, rafe-”

rafe had given in eventually—squeezing your cheeks together with his hand before you got in the passenger seat of his car, after opening the door for you.

“when you start complainin’, i’m gonna make you regret it. hm?” you had squeaked out an agreeing noise, quickly following up with a promise to stay quiet before climbing into your seat.

that had been hours ago. in that time, rafe had stopped at several houses, gone inside and spent time talking to other people—some you recognized, others not so much—and ended up here, with you waiting, your feet on his dash while he was inside with barry. the minutes were dragging into hours at this point, your entire body feeling tired and achy from the position. the air in the car felt a little suffocating and paired with the heat of the sun pouring through the windows, nothing you could do would make you feel comfortable.

rafe’s one rule had been not to get out of the car while he was inside. in your attempt to follow his instructions, you felt yourself getting more and more frustrated, a certain crankiness bubbling up inside you, making one of its rare appearances. 

you tried to scroll through your phone and play music—which failed immediately since there was no service out here. you tried to eat the candy you kept in his glovebox, but it was melted beyond the point of remaining edible. you tried, you really did, but just like rafe had predicted, you started complaining the second he got back in the truck.

“you think, what? that i say that shit for me? no, kid, i’m saying it for you, ‘cause i know you get fed up in the car when i’m fuckin’ busy tryna make some money, being fuckin’ proactive for us-”

“but i-”

“no excuses. i told you to stay home. you gonna get an attitude with me? huh?” 

“you’re not even-”

“shoulda tied your ass to the bed. that’s what i’ll do next time.”

it doesn’t take much longer for the tears to come to the surface, your face falling into that sad look that makes him mad at himself for even ever yelling at you. you cry silently like that until he parks at tannyhill, and when he looks at you, regret washes over him. your pretty makeup all messed up, body heaving with sobs, staring down at your feet because you felt too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“hey, hey,” he starts, a hand resting on your shoulder to get your attention. it moves deftly to your chin, titling your pretty, teary face up at him. “c’mon, don’t cry. it’s nothin’.” 

“you got mad,” you say, voice broken up with a sob, blubbering on. “i’m sorry, i am. i just hate being all alone here without you, it’s the worst-” 

“come on, kid.”

“jus’ wanted to hang out with you,” you sniffle. he runs a hand through his hair. he needs to get better at not getting frustrated with you just because he’s not used to your affection.

“i know, baby. we’re home now so get inside, hm?” you comply with his instructions, walking into tannyhill and heading towards the couch in the living room, like you always do when the two of you curl up to watch a movie.

“where you goin'?” he calls after you. you stop in your track, turning around to face rafe.

“i thought we’re hanging out? the living room?”

“and i said this morning that i would make you regret complainin’. so get your ass upstairs first, now.”

#eeeeeee💓anon hope you love!!!! #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #time series

[starry-eyedblog]

HI LAURY (≧ω≦。) I CAN FINALLY SEND YOU AN ASK AGAIN!!

okay ahem i was thinking about roomates!soap and gaz !! they are like very overly touchy and obsessed with you, literally can't keep their hands off you while you three are on the couch watching a movie. a bit insane and gross sometimes too BUT i love them very much. DO YOU SEE MY VISION HERE!! i don't think i am explaining it well BUT YEAH >:3

ruru!! i'm so happy yer free from jail, vry glad to have you back<3

and omg i'm actually frothing at the MOUTH i see your vision so clearly. why is this so hot?? i actually need them so badly. hope i do the idea justice !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

warnings/tags: roommate! soap x roommate! gaz x reader, non con/dub con, groping, pervy/creepy behaviour, slight manipulation/guilt tripping, mentions of panty sniffing

you had moved into a new flat a few weeks ago, managing to snag a pretty big place for a cheap price. when you saw the amount on the post advertising it online, your eyes almost bulged out of your head and you rushed to contact the owners, which turned out to be two handsome men a few years older than you.

what was not to love of the place? close commute to your work, cheap, spacious and two very good looking men living there too. honestly it felt like a setup but you didn't question it, and your application was immediately accepted.

so in no time flat you were moving in, setting up all your own furniture with the help of both your roommates. and after a week of getting comfortable and your roommates keeping a good distance from you while you settled in, they finally asked you to join in with them on their activities that have always been just for the two of them. the first, was film night.

"every friday night, we have film night. snacks, drinks, shitty films. it's our routine, and now you're here, we thought you should be included." gaz had told you on thursday morning, an easy smile on his face as he stood leaning on the kitchen counter, eating toast in just his plaid pyjama trousers hanging low on his waist with everything else on show. it was very difficult to avoid oogling at his chest as you responded. "so-sounds great, i'll uhm pick up some snacks after work tomorrow." you ushered out.

it's now friday night at half nine and the three of you are huddled up under soft blankets on the pretty spacious couch with you squished in the middle of them. there wasn't any need for them to have their bodies so close to you, but you didn't say anything. gaz had his arm resting on the back of the couch, around your head which made you blush slightly, even though it was just for his own comfort.

you're only fifteen minutes into the film, some popcorn in your hand with eyes glued to the tv when you feel the first touch. it's a big, warm hand pressing at your thigh. you jump, head whipping round to soap who smiles innocently at you. his hand grips your thigh and you whine, stumbling out a response.

"soap, wh-what-?" you try to ask but soap shushes you up quickly, "shh hen, tryna watch the film." he points to the tv with his free hand, no longer looking at you. not even a minute later, another hand coming from the other side of you is now squeezing at the inside of your thigh.

your head whips round to face gaz instead, your eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. "why are y-" before you can get another word out, gaz is also shushing you and instead facing the tv - just like soap.

you try not to think about it too much, as they both seem to be enamoured with the film playing in front of them and uncaring of the fact both of their hands are gripping at your thighs that borderlines on just a wee bit too tight.

as the film continues, you start to forget about the weight of their hands on your thighs but that doesn't last long until both hands are moving again, one going to your front while the other slides back to rest on your arse.

your cheeks instantly flare pink as you sputter out words, trying to ask what they are doing. "ain't doing anythin', you're jus' too sensitive love. keep watchin' the film alright? me and johnny really want you to take movie night serious, can you do that for us?" gaz asks with a pout, guilt tripping you with his adorable puppy face that will soon become a recurring issue for you.

you find your head nodding slowly, eyes turning back to the tv once again as their hands start to fondle you. soap's hand teases at your cunt through your joggers, cupping it every now and then while gaz grabs and almost kneads at the soft skin of your arse, fingers slipping the joggers down enough that he can touch warm flesh.

it doesn't take long for you to be a whimpering mess on the couch, trapped between the two burly men who give you no respite, rough overworked hands fondling you so meanly and roughly, without care for your sensitive body.

"gu-guys the film, i thought you wan-hghh wanted to watch it." you splutter, head rolling back onto the shoulder of gaz who's on your left. "aye we do, so quit yer yapping quien." soap grumbles, leaving a sloppy wet kiss on your neck, eyes not even looking at the tv.

it doesn't take long for gaz's fingers to work their way down your joggers and push aside your flimsy underwear, a dry thumb pressing against your asshole that has you squirming, hips bucking to get away. gaz's other hand keeps you pinned down firmly with no issue, watching the way your mouth falls open to let out confused sounds of pleasure and pain.

as gaz does this at the back of your body, soap fondles with the front of you, hand slipping down your underwear to press at your clit which makes you moan out-loud, eyes fluttering shut. "dove, please. we haven't seen this film before, been waiting awhile." gaz complains, nibbling at your ear and you feel as if all your nerves have been set on fire. the guilt and pleasure swirls through your turned on body, mind starting to become foggy as they continue their groping.

you bite down on your bottom lip harshly, teeth digging into the skin and causing little tears. tiny droplets of blood stain your bottom lip as you sit there like a doll for them, your fuzzy brain desperately trying to focus on the film but at this point any ideas you had about the plot or characters has left you and replaced with the way your body is being groped at by your two new roommates.

soon soap's fingers are slipping past your folds and caressing your hole that seems to grow wet from the touch, even though it's a natural human body instinct, soap takes it that you're enjoying his and gaz's caressing which just feeds into his gross mindset.

"fuck gaz, should feel how wet they are. fuckin' turns em on being groped." soap moans deeply, one thick finger slipping into your wet hole that immediately clenches down on the intrusion. "that so? we picked the right one tav." gaz smirks at his friend, pulling his hands out of your joggers to then shove his dry thumb into your mouth roughly.

"suck lovie." he stated, watching the way your teary eyes didn't move away once from the tv while your mouth gently sucked on the digit. soon he slipped his thumb out and pressed it against your hole once again, but this time he gently started to edge his spit soaked finger inside which had your body flinching. you had never experimented back there, so this was a very new sensation.

"never had anyone back here, eh?" gaz jokes with a mean chuckle which soap joins while thrusting one finger meanly into your tight cunt that leaks around his hand. another finger is soon added, thumb pressing against your clit. you feel absolutely ashamed, your body enjoying the touch while your mind is conflicted.

before you can think much more about how wrong this is, how your roommates have ganged up on you to touch you without any consent, your stomach tightens and your cunt clenches down on soap's two fingers. your asshole pulses around gaz's thumb as your orgasm washes through you and your eyesight blurs from the intensity.

as you whimper and gasp on the couch, hips bucking and writhing to try get away, both men watch in awe as you cum. the film is long forgotten now, playing quietly in the background as it illuminates the room. once your orgasm finally comes to an end, your body slumps back into the couch, eyes half lidded and body limp while your roommates remove their hands out of you.

soap is the first to taste your sweet nectar, long tongue wrapping around his middle finger and sucking off your juices. he moans and pants like a dog in heat as he tastes you on his tongue, and it isn't long before gaz is whining for his turn. soap reluctantly pulls off and rests his ring finger on gaz's plump lips, watching the younger man slowly open his mouth and welcome his finger inside. his tongue laps up the wetness, hips bucking up from need as he drinks down everything he can just off soap's finger.

after a minute, soap is pushing gaz off with a chuckle. "alright calm yersel gaz." he says, and gaz rolls his eyes. "you're just the same." he grumbles quietly before turning to you, smiling at how out of it you are, still limp against the couch.

thankfully both men pull your underwear back up and clean you up, but not without leaving messy hickeys all over your neck and shoulders to claim you as theirs.

and no one needs to know, certainly not you, that through this week of you settling in - where they kept their distance so you were comfortable, they weren't actually keeping faithful to that promise. they already managed to slip a few dirty pants out of your bedroom to sniff and huff at while jerking the other off at late hours into the night, as well as spying on you when showering.

but this was just the start of their creeping on their new pretty roommate.

@bjornthebearguy

@iciclesses

@mothymunson

#anon ask #thanks anon! #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #soap call of duty #soap cod #john mactavish cod #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle gaz smut #gaz call of duty #gaz x reader #fem reader #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw manipulation #tw panty sniffing #tw perv behaviour #tw guilt tripping

[macfrog]

secrets cowboy like me chapter fourteen

one day i'll rein my chapters back in. today is not that day. thirteen thousand words of...a little bit of fucking and a lot of fighting. i love you all and i still can't believe the love you continue to show this series. you're all actually insane. i present to you: the penultimate chapter of cowboy.

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: the one where...everybody finds out.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), a big argument, a lot of guilt, angry disappointed dad, one mention of alcohol consumption, lil bit of sub!joel, unprotected piv, tiny bit of degradation, tiny bit of praise kink, creampie, cursing, smut, fluff, angst 

word count: 12.9k (dry heaves) 

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

You haven’t slept a wink. Not one second.

You and Joel were awake until one in the morning on the phone; you – panicking, spilling words into the receiver, watching different cuts of your dad realizing everything as though projected across your blank ceiling, and Joel – monotone as fucking ever, batting every single theory away.

He doesn’t know a damn thing, he’d said. You didn’t miss the way his words hung over the edge of the sentence, trembling almost.

You scoffed and hissed back down the line. You don’t fucking know that! How can you know that?

You think he just found out about us and thought, Hey, better get some shut-eye before I deal with this? Really, baby?

I think he doesn’t know what he found out. I think he’s probably tryna convince himself that he’s wrong.

So, let him. He’s wrong. We go with that.

Joel knew he wasn’t doing anything to calm you down. Wasn’t offering anything you could seriously take on. You know he wasn’t trying to.

He was as worried as you were – he was just pretending not to be, because what fucking good would it do to have the two of you bouncing off one another with panic?

Still, he stayed on the phone the entire night. When he fell asleep, you lay in bed and tossed everything over in your head like tearing back the pages of a diary. Last night, then Frank’s, then the weekend before that, then the Hillcrest – all the way back to that first ride home. The pissing rain, the boxes of nails rattling in the glove compartment with each sway of the truck. Recalling every word spoken, every move made, every expression pulled and glance stolen and fucking breath taken.

Any sound from beyond your door shot a bullet of adrenaline through your veins, coursing through your body like ice. As if it was your dad, barreling in at 3AM to have it out with you.

You reckon you’d be ready if he did. Wide-eyed, fists clenched, heart hammering.

Joel groans back to life at eight. You hear the ruffling of bedsheets, the crackle down the line as he drags the phone across his mattress and pins it to his ear. You lift your own. Joel and 08:43:36, 37, 38 underneath it on the screen.

His voice drums low and groggy from the speaker. “You are gonna have my phone bill through the damn roof. I’m exhausted, darlin’.”

“I can’t think of anything else. He knows, Joel.”

He sighs. You can see his head falling into his hand, see his thumb rubbing circles into his temple. “Let’s just see what happens, alright? There ain’t any chance you left your phone in the living room ‘n he came across it, thought he’d keep it for you comin’ home?”

“I’ve barely left my room all week. Why would it be down there?”

Joel’s quiet. He just breathes down the line. After a minute, he clears his throat.

“Come over, would ya?”

“Huh?”

“Come over. I wanna see you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Joel, I’m –”

“Hey. Don’t make me ask again, alright? C’mon, now. I got some errands to run; you’re coming with me.”

He doesn’t have to say much else to convince you; you’re already pulling your bedsheets back and hanging up. Your hoodie and shorts are still hooked over the foot of your bed. The sun filters through the drapes, edges you nearer the door. Your chest fills with something calling itself bravery, and slowly, quietly – you click the door open.

The hallway is silent. A blushing gold in the morning light. The house is still – eerily still. Your dad’s room door is open, bed made, sheets tucked neatly under the mattress. Like he had time to spend on it. Stuff to mull over as he made it.

The carpet softens your footsteps when you finally move for the stairs. The birds are singing outside. The wallpaper canvases your shadow, a little monster creeping along one step behind you, passing picture frames which dazzle with sunrays and mirror a half-lit reflection back to you. One side you – the other, missing.

You lean over the last step, craning your head and shoulders into the hallway. The clock on the wall opposite ticks to no one. Tick tick tick tick. And aside from it, from its taunting tutting, there are no other signs of life. His jacket hangs from the peg. His boots lying below, laces tangled.

The sun separates into brittle shards through the window, illuminating the way to the kitchen. You’re not fucking prepared to follow it.

Shoulders hunched, like it might make a difference, you step forward and lower your thumb and index finger over your keys, aiming for them like a shaky arcade claw machine. Tick tick tick. They jingle as you hook your fingertip through them. Your nose wrinkles.

“Hey.”

He appears around the corner like an apparition. The keys drop back to the unit with a violent clatter.

“Jesus!”

“Woah, woah.” Your dad holds a palm up, laughing nervously. “Sorry. Where you headed?”

“Uh, J– Sarah’s. Some errands she wants some help with.”

He nods. “Yeah? You don’t want breakfast first?”

You drag your eyes to meet his for the first time. He looks drawn, skin like webbing, as though it’s just draped over his skull. As though you could put your finger through it like parchment, just push straight through. He looks like he’s had about as much sleep as you have.

“No, thanks,” you say, the sunken, sullen sight of him crumbling your voice to dust. Your lips move wordlessly, waiting for another lie from your tongue to offer over. But between the way he looks, weary and forlorn, and the thin veil of truth left between you – nothing materializes.

“Why don’t you – why don’t you hold back a second?” Dad beckons you forward, folding his fingers to his palm. “Got somethin’ I wanna talk to you about.”

“Dad, I really gotta go, I –”

“Just – come on. I’m sure Sarah won’t mind.”

He disappears without waiting for a response. Shifts back into the living room, shadow following him like a cloak across the door. You hear the creak of his chair as he settles down into it, the unsettling squeal of leather and spring.

Your feet are planted to the hall floor. To move in either direction feels like a trap. To follow after him – sit opposite and swallow back what you think you know is coming. All of his suspicions stuck in your throat like a bitter, powdery pill. Or to turn away – leave him in an empty house, nothing but the sound of his own breathing and that tick tick tick affirming your guilt.

No more excuses filter through – none of Joel’s ideas, none of his explanations. You let your shoulders drop and your eyes close. The only image behind them is that six-foot, graying, droning idiot who’s probably sat waiting for you to pull up so he can take you to fucking Trader Joe’s or whatever.

And his shirt, which he’d probably drape over your shoulders before he’s even said hello. And his smile, which would draw you onto your tiptoes, draw your lips to his. And his hands, and his waist, and his pulse in step with yours as you follow him around the quiet store, the Saturday morning air daring you to hook your fingers around two of his every now and then. The longing a gnawing in your chest, burrowing deep beneath the cage of your ribs.

He's not here, though. It’s just you. And if you call him now, if he shows up unannounced – it’s only going to confirm what your dad thinks. Fuck it – what he knows.

So you unstick your sneakers and haul yourself through to the living room.

He’s rocking in the chair when you sink back into the couch. Balls of his feet pushing him back and forth. His fingers to his lips, like keeping the words at bay for now. Like feeling the jagged shape of them through his skin.

You throw a pillow over your legs, shaggy ivory fringe tickling your bare thighs. Your dad doesn’t speak. When you lift your head, his eyes flit from yours down to your restless fingers knitting the tassels of his pillow.

“What is it?” you croak.

“Mind if I ask you somethin’?”

You shrug. “Go for it.”

He waits a beat. A hesitation. Like he doesn’t want to ask the first question. He’s at the edge of a cliff. One more step and he’s plummeting down the rocky side, into a fog of cloud. Nothing will ever be the same. Only – you’ve already pushed him. He’s already falling. He just hasn’t realized it yet.

Maybe he feels the drop in his stomach, right now. Maybe the wind screams in his ears. He finally asks, “When were you gonna tell me about y’all gettin’ into a barfight on Friday night?”

Unexpected. But keep your fucking cool.

Your fingertip whitens, blood halted by the knot of the cushion fringe. You chew on a torn leaf of skin from your lips. “What?”

“You ‘n Joel. When he picked you up. What the hell happened?”

Your eyes slide from his to the patio door behind him, garden lighting up with the sun scaling higher in the sky. You stare there until it burns, until it’s all just a blur of color in your vision, and then pull a half-blinded gaze back in his direction.

You’re frozen, as if he has you at gunpoint. Shoulders tense, eyes wide. Dontshootdontshootdontshoot. “Who –? Who said that?”

“Hank. Was on the phone to ‘im last night. Anna said Joel was squarin’ up to some kid in Frank’s. You wanna tell me exactly what happened?”

“Nothing.” Liar. “Nothing happened. It was just some asshole. Joel was just lookin’ out for me. For us. Me ‘n Anna.”

“She told Hank he knocked the kid out. That Sam had to stop it from gettin’ outta control.”

He stares at you, and there’s no mask on his face. No cover, no disguise. He’s suspicious. And he doesn’t care that you know it. He’s not just asking about the barfight.

“Are you gonna say it or am I, hon?”

“Say what?”

Your last thread of insane hope that he’s innocently wondering about Frank’s is snapped in two by the words that tear out of his mouth, so quick they rip into your skin like shards of glass.

“What the hell’s goin’ on between you two?”

Your body suddenly drops further into the couch, the weight of your blood freezing to ice in your veins. Your joints seize, your jaw locks. Air passes across your open lips with no intention of carrying words back out the way it came. You forget any ability you had previously to come up with excuses, to cover up, to lie. Hell, you’re not sure you’d remember your own fucking name if he asked that next.

You say nothing. And he cocks his head, drums his fingers on the arm of his chair.

Say something.

“Nothing.”

Say something more convincing.

“Nothing?” you repeat, a shrill pitch in your voice like it’s a question. Like he’s dumb for even thinking there might be something weird going on. Like he’s the idiot.

The clock in the hall ticks to itself, amused. Fifteen little snaps. Each one sounds like a plate of glass beneath your feet, cracking a little more, a little deeper, a little wider. The abyss opening its wide, dark jaws beneath you.

Your dad’s expression doesn’t change. He crosses his arms, head leaning back a little. He almost looks sad. Almost looks like he might give in. Send you on your way, on your errands with Sarah.

But something recharges him, something must flicker behind his eyes, because he sits forward again and watches your reaction intently as he says –

“Then explain the text messages you been sendin’ each other.”

Another blow hits your stomach, rippling waves of white heat through you. You feel hot, a scorching panic right beneath the surface of your skin so hot that it mistakes itself for ice cold. A panic which radiates from your heart, pulsating through your entire body, every limb beginning to shudder involuntarily. Your silence is answer enough.

He sighs. Sits forward with his elbows on his knees. “I knew y’all were close, knew you cared about each other. You sure always talked to ‘im more ‘n you ever talked to me, even before you went off to college. But I’ve been noticing things lately…Something’s different. Something’s changed.”

Your eyes trace his form as he talks. It’s fucking dizzying. He’s animated, like a character from some eighties cop show who finally solved the mystery. He knows. He knows everything. Your jaw won’t move to answer.

“Seeing you two together – talking, laughing. The way you look at each other these days. ‘n you’re always near each other, ain’t you? Always hoverin’. It ain’t anything like before. That day the three of us went to Costco, that – I –” His anger seems to boil over, cascading from his lips in an angry burst of hot breath. “I felt like a spare tire in the back of the truck that day.”

“We’re…We’re just…f-friends…I don’t –”

He holds a finger up. Doesn’t want to hear it. Not until his speech is done. The sun moves behind a cloud; the living room suddenly drains of light. “That day you said you were spending the night at Anna’s. Said you were havin’ a pool day, right?”

“Right,” you whisper, eyes closing over. They feel heavy. Tired and teary.

“Right. Except,” he brings his finger down, aims it straight at you, “Hank says you weren’t never there. Anna was at Sal’s all day Sunday.”

Fuck.

“Dad…”

You’re pleading with him now. Enough, I’ve heard enough. I know you know. As if you might still be able to stop the train, dig your heels in and hold on tight to derail it. Derail his thoughts. Salvage the situation, string it back together with shame and atonement.

But he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t even hear you.

“’n that’s when I got to thinkin’ – last Monday, at Joel’s. I went over to fix his sink – you remember I told you about his sink?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “I went over there, and he’s cookin’ this great big breakfast – pancakes, all of it – and there ain’t no one else in his house. Just him. Sarah was in Nashville, you remember?”

You take a deep breath. This is it. The ship’s beginning to disappear beneath the black waves.

“I thought maybe he had someone over, maybe expectin’ that girl from the plant hire…Anyway,” he bats his hand, bats the hopeful glint in Lois’s eye from his mind, “I’m walking downstairs, on my way out, and I notice somethin’ on the floor by the door.”

His chair squeaks timidly as he moves, his right arm lowering, scooping for something you can’t see yet. But when he shakily lifts it, your eyes fall to your knees. It hangs before you, apologetic and ashamed.

Joel was right. He knew it. You palmed him off. You told him your dad wouldn’t – couldn’t – put two and two together. And here he is, sat feet from you, holding the final piece to the puzzle in a quivering fist. Proof that, when he was in the house that day, you were only feet from him. Wrapped in his best friend’s shirt, dripping wet from his shower.

“This bag,” he hisses, and the tears finally drop onto your cheeks. They scurry to your chin, gathering and throwing themselves to your chest. Your shoulders drop, your eyes still low. You can’t look at him.

He speaks slowly. Speaks through his teeth. Every word like its own poisonous jab.

“Now you tell me: what in God’s name is your bag doin’ in Joel Miller’s hallway, at ten in the mornin’, when you’re supposed to be at Anna’s?”

Your fingers touch your forehead, a burning pain beginning to sting through your skull. You can feel your pulse in your temples. You’ve never wanted Joel to be stood in front of you so badly in all your life; just to deflect some of the interrogation off of you, just to give you breathing space. Just to protect you from the onslaught of questioning from your dad.

“No,” he mutters, shaking his head. The bag hits the carpet with a thud. “No, there ain’t no way. You were at Anna’s, right? You ain’t with Joel Miller, no way. I’m thinkin’, Please, God, don’t let that have been my daughter’s bag that day. But I’m right, ain’t I? You were there, weren’t you?”

You blink rapidly. The tears multiply quicker. The room is glossed in a protective film of salt and adrenaline. Give me something to say back. Give me something to say back.

“Where were you, hon? Musta been hidin’ somewhere, right?”

Give me something please think of something please come over please walk through that door please tell me what to say.

And then it comes to you. You blink the mist from your eyes. He said…he knew about texts you’d been sending Joel. How did he…?

“How did you know about the texts?”

“Pardon me?”

You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. Your voice feels hoarse. It sounds nothing like you. “How – did you know – about – the texts?”

“That’s your concern right now?”

“How – did you know?”

He begins to sputter, like the heat turned up under a pan on the hob. “Look, hon, you had me worried sick. Disappearin’ and I got no clue where you are. Always having an excuse to go off somewhere alone, no explanation. Don’t even get me started on those marks on your neck.”

Your hand immediately clamps around your throat, hot skin stained pink hissing into your palm. Joel’s teeth on you last night. His words cushioning the sharp bite. I love you. The heat hurts, now, when it felt so comforting just a few hours ago. It burns. It throbs. It feels like shame.

Your dad’s voice brings you back into the room.

“There’s another thing – last night,” he flings a laugh to you, “you were so quiet. So damn quiet. Didn’t say a word the entire time, and then I leave for all of ten minutes, and suddenly the two of you are headin’ over to his for – what was it? UCLA pamphlets?”

There’s a break between his words, a gap which makes you think that he wants you to answer. Like he’s giving you a chance, extending his arm. But he fills the space with a jeering laugh, and keeps talking.

“Where are they, huh? These pamphlets? ‘s why you were at Joel’s, right? Go on, go get ‘em. Show them to me.”

Your face solidifies. Lips tremble. There’s a scowl pulling your brows together. You’ve no right for it to be there. “Stop it,” you seethe. “Tell me what you did.”

“He’s the only one. The only one who could get you to talk. I had to check, kiddo. I had to know.”

Your stare doesn’t let up. Your lips bolt shut, refusing to say another word until he confesses. Which he does. Almost breezily.

“I looked through your phone. While you were gone. I – I went upstairs, ‘n I took it.”

He says it casually, as though he’s simply checked the newspaper. As though he’s just relaying the columns to you. Someone’s had a baby. Someone else won three grand on a scratch card. By the way, I know you’ve been messing around with Joel.

So it takes a minute for what he’s said to hit you. But when it does, the wave crashes over your shoulders so violently that it throws you to your feet, tasseled pillow whipped to the other side of the couch.

There are tears searing across your eyes. A twisted grimace of a smile on your face, a laugh breaking roughly from your throat. Some crazed, disbelieving, ugly little laugh.

“You – you checked my…my fuckin’ phone. You – you fucking –”

His head jerks back, offended. “Hey, now, listen to me –”

“I’m not listenin’ to another word! Am I twelve?”

You stalk over to the kitchen. The rattle of your dad’s chair tells you he follows.

“Well – you tell me, hon, ‘cause right now, you’re making a lot of real stupid decisions.”

That same ugly laugh echoes around the house. You grip onto the kitchen island. The room starts to wheel.

“Who the hell are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do?” you pant, eyes tight shut. Your thumbs begin to slip, sweat gliding between your skin and the counter.

“I’m your father! I’m lookin’ out for you, damnit! You think I wanna be havin’ this conversation with you right now?”

The granite countertop blurs in and out of focus when you open your eyes. You hook onto it, using it to haul yourself around the island until there’s distance between your wobbly figure and his. And you remember one week ago, when the same counter separated you and Joel, and you think of Joel, and think of his fingers around your wrist, and his fist against Knox’s jaw, and his teeth in your neck.

“Look,” your dad’s voice floats somewhere over the image of Joel’s eyes, “let’s just – let’s calm down. You ‘n me – we’re gonna talk this out. We’re gonna have a calm, mature discussion about all of this. You’re gonna tell me exactly what’s been goin’ on, and then I’m gonna head over to Joel’s – alone – and talk to him.”

But his voice doesn’t sound calm. There’s a tremble to it – a tremor as fragile as glass, as thin as ice. It’s crackling as he speaks. He can hardly keep a hold on it himself.

If he goes over to Joel’s – this you know – there ain’t anything calm or mature that will come of it. Suddenly the images in your head warp, and it’s your fingers around Joel’s wrist, someone else’s fist against his cheek, someone else’s teeth and the venom spat between them.

“Dad,” you pant, “it’s over. He ended it. It’s been done for, like, two weeks now. It was nothing.”

“Oh, nothing, was it?” He steps closer. You retreat. Edge further around the counter, further from him. His head tilts, eyebrows curl. He looks like a vulture, eyeing its prey. “Then what were the two of you up to last night?”

“We – we went for ice cream, that’s all. He wanted to make sure I was alright.”

He’s not convinced. And he shouldn’t be, either. He coughs a laugh. “For three hours? You were eatin’ ice cream for three Goddamn hours?” His cheeks wobble as he shakes his head. Then, in a softer voice, like he’s arming himself with a chisel to prick at the weakest parts of the sculpture, “What’d he do to you, girl?”

The marble cracks and snaps wide open. Anger floods out in hot waves. Any composure you’d managed to scrape together flushes clean out of your body.

“Nothing I didn’t want him to fuckin’ do. Stop treating me like I’m some kid who’s – who’s been tricked, or something. I’m twenty-three, Dad, I’m an adult.”

His silence sends another misdirected shot of panic through you.

“I was in on it just as much as he was,” you weep, fingers searching for a scratch of beard or kiss of flannel.

Your dad scoffs then, hands slapping against his thighs, and turns away. “There ain’t no gettin’ through to you,” he announces to the timid living room.

Still bracing yourself against the island, you take the break in his tirade to catch your breath. The only thought running through your head, losing velocity with each circuit, is Joel walking through that door. His face when he notices you with your flushed cheeks and wide eyes. His hands reaching for yours, through all the lies and hurt. Your dad, stood opposite, tight as an arrow and ready to fucking fly for him. Fists balled, teeth bared.

“He doesn’t even know,” you realize, staring at the glow on the floor cast by the front door. “You haven’t told him you know, have you?”

“’course I ain’t told him. I wanted to talk to you first. Not that it’s gotten us anywhere, huh?”

“I’m gonna text him.”

“Hon, don’t you d–”

“I am not having this conversation on my own. There are two people involved here.”

You pull your phone from your pocket and scrawl some messy message to Joel. Three messy messages. Something like he knows everything, can you come over? I need you. Some needy, dramatic, helpless message.

The typing bubble appears for a fraction of a second. So fleeting that you almost miss it through your tears, before it drops back to nothing. He doesn’t reply.

Doesn’t pick up, either, when you call him. Three times in a row. Three missed calls; three Hey, it’s Joel, sorry I missed yous.

The phone rattles off the counter when you drop it, your head falling into your hands. Your dad wanders back over to his armchair and collapses into it with a sigh, his fingers massaging his temples. The two of you mirrored, the same storm circling between you, only ice in his veins and fire in yours.

Fear keeps your feet planted to the kitchen floor; adrenaline alone keeps you upright. Your fingers push hard into your forehead, an ache sat directly behind that dizzies you. Blood thudding its fists against your eyes, screaming in your ears.

How the fuck did this happen? It feels ridiculous to ask, but it’s all you got. When did the two of you get so lazy? Start forgetting to cover your tracks? Or – maybe worse – stop caring enough to even try?

Of course, saying you were with Anna was a dumb fucking move. Her dad is one of your dad’s buddies. One of Joel’s, too. That was always going to fuck it all up. And you were too caught up, too hellbent on seeing Joel, too fucking horny to stop for five seconds and keep your damn story straight.

There’s nothing to say, nothing that might fix this. There’s no winding your way out of it. The trap has you by the throat. Your jaw aches from trying to free yourself.

Your dad sways side to side in his chair, staring silently at the wall ahead of him. Your face burns with shame, with anger, with embarrassment. Your heart stings from the hurt, from wanting Joel here, from his ignoring your pleas for help. And, most annoying of all – from letting your dad down.

It doesn’t matter what you tell yourself. How you spin it. Sure, you’re twenty-three. You can make your own decisions. That much is fucking clear now. Doesn’t mean they’re always good. Even when they make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, make your stomach flip with excitement, make you scream from pleasure.

Make your heart do things you’ve never felt it do before. Things you never knew that it could do.

You let your dad down. He can barely look at you for it. You know damn well that it was worth every second, and yet, right now, nothing but thick, awkward, unbreathable air between the two of you – it feels like it should never have happened.

You’re bent over the counter, head resting on your folded arms, breathing still staggered – when you hear it. The squeal of brakes outside. An engine cutting. A door slamming.

Two knocks on the door, and Joel pushes it open. You’re already in the hallway, watching his heavy head and loose shirt cross the threshold.

He looks up and your eyes meet. His hair’s a mess, he’s in the same tee from last night. He’s gotten straight out of bed and into his truck, and he’s braced, like he doesn’t know what’s coming. Which direction to expect the first punch from.

Your knees weaken at the sight of him. The safe haven of his arms, the home of his chest. The beating pulse behind it whose language you’ve become fluent in. Even now, when everything’s fallen apart, his being here washes relief over you like cool water dousing an inferno. Your body relaxes, your breathing quietens.

Joel nods towards you. You okay?

You shake your head lightly, and he flicks his fingers. You’re in his arms before your brain tells your limbs to move.

“’s okay,” he breathes, lips lined with your ear. His chest is soft, warm; you take fistfuls of his shirt. He strokes your hair, mumbling, “Told you we’ll be alright, yeah? It’s goin’ to be alright.”

You weep into him, lips dripping with salty tears. They part to reply, when a low growl rips between your bodies. Joel loosens his grip and you step back, turning around to face the ghost of your father at the end of the hall.

“Get the hell away from him.”

He advances, takes a few steps forward. You meet him halfway, gripping onto his shirt, planting yourself firmly between him and Joel.

“Woah, woah,” you say, pushing on his small chest, “let’s all just calm down. Dad.”

He’s smaller, scrawnier, older, and weaker than Joel. He’s never going to lift a fucking hand to him. Not if he wants to keep it intact. He wouldn’t square up to a fly, never mind an actual worthy opponent – but your gut tells you to make damn sure he doesn’t even try.

“Get out of the way, hon.”

“No. No way. And let you –? No.”

He’s not even looking at you. You’re nothing but an obstacle. He’s staring a few feet behind.

“Baby,” Joel says, voice weary and surrendered. “It’s alright, now. C’mon, outta the way.”

“Baby?” your dad seethes. “You just call my daughter baby?”

“Called me it as long as he’s known me, Dad.”

“’s different now,” he spits. “What the f–? I mean, what the fuck, Joel? What were you even thinkin’? Putting your Goddamn hands on my daughter?”

You don’t usually hear your dad curse. All through growing up, even when you left home – you could count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard it. It sends a bolt of fear through you as if you’re five years old again, and he can’t do much worse than say bad words in front of you.

You don’t usually see your dad do any of this stuff. Raise his voice, ball his fists. Lean forward, feet planted on the ground, like daring Joel to make the first move. Joel – his best friend. The guy he was supposed to be able to trust more than anyone in the world.

Angry. Furious. And you think: if there were a time he had a right to feel this way, to act like this and throw threats around as though they’re light as air, if ever there were a moment – this would be it. A betrayal. A secret this big.

Joel takes a step forward. He doesn’t seem scared. More – placating. Letting the tantrum run its course. He holds his hands out. “Let’s just – let’s just talk.”

“Talk,” your dad repeats, spitting the word like it’s rotten in his mouth. “You wanna talk? Let’s talk. What the hell have you been doin’ to her? Hm?”

Joel shakes his head, shoulders lifting. “I ain’t been doin’ nothin’ to her. That’s not what this is.”

“Hell,” your dad scoffs, “not what it is. Why don’t you explain to me exactly what it is, then, Joel? If it ain’t you takin’ advantage of a young girl? Takin’ advantage of my kid?”

Your head whips back to face Joel, hand lifting in a bracing motion. He sees it – sees the way your head shakes, imperceptible to your dad. Please don’t tell him. Not yet.

It’s bad enough that he knows you’ve been messing around. It hurts enough that he knows you’ve been lying for the entire summer. Telling him the full story – the conversation in the truck, the words exchanged over ice cream and the quiet tick of traffic lights across the street – would only hurt more. Would only sharpen his anger. He’d ask more questions; he’d drive his dagger deeper.

Joel pleads with you. His eyes do his bargaining. You don’t relent. Please.

“You know what I keep thinkin’ about,” your dad interrupts, “you know what’s runnin’ through my mind? That damn garden party. Those cupcakes. You puttin’ your thumb on her lip. I should’ve known the second you touched her what was happening. You arrogant, shameless son of a bitch, Joel, you got no idea what you –”

“Dad. Enough.”

Sure, you’re trying to calm him down, palms outstretched and motioning like he’s a wild horse, rearing frantically and threatening to crush you. But it also stings to hear him talking about Joel like that. Talking to him like that.

The same Joel he’d sling an arm around, knocking their beers together when the Rangers won. The same Joel you know he’d spent hours sat out back with, talking into the night and sharing stories and secrets with the stars.

The same Joel who covered your legs with his jacket last night, who held you when you were hurting, who reminded you what it was like to feel your heart again, beating rapidly in your chest.

He’s not talking about the same Joel. Not the Joel you know. Yours.

He’s still rambling. “…’n all this time, you pair have been closer ‘n you were lettin’ on.”

“You don’t understand,” you plead, “you don’t know him like I do.”

Your dad scoffs, twisted smirk on his face. “Oh, I know ‘im. I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer and a hell of a lot better ‘n you have, hon. Known him since he was fifteen, askin’ me ‘n my buddies to buy ‘im a case of beer from the liquor store. His little brother in ‘n outta jail like God only knows what. I know exactly what he’s like.”

“What he’s like?” you huff, exasperated. You spin on your heel, arms coming down on your sides with a slap. “Joel, help me.”

“Don’t you dare look at ‘im! Listen, kiddo, I know him. Know what he’s like at Frank’s, takin’ women home left ‘n right, then forgetting their damn names. Know he sure as hell can’t remember that schoolteacher’s name, can you, Joel? You remember her?”

“Quit it,” you tell him over your shoulder, still facing Joel.

Your dad laughs from behind you. It turns your stomach. “I’ll bet he never told you about that one, did he? That’d turn you off ‘im in a heartbeat, wouldn’t it?”

“Nah, he told me about Jess.”

Your dad’s voice cuts. Joel’s head finally lifts, his eyes ungluing from the floor to look at you.

You shrug back. “I figured it out. Sister’s name is Mia – she’s a year younger ‘n me.”

You swear he almost fucking smiles. Almost. It’s funny, or at least, it would be if you weren’t both in the middle of tearing your entire dynamic apart. Any other time, he’d nudge you, or tousle your hair, and say you were too clever for him, or something about being old again.

When you turn back to face your dad, he looks like he’s run out of words. So, he repeats ones he’s already said.

“I…Well, I know him, honey. And he ain’t someone you oughta be with.”

“How’d you figure that?”

He sighs. “I just told you my reasons.”

“’cause he wanted beer when he was a kid and he’s slept with people before? ‘cause Tommy gets himself into trouble – trouble that Joel then gets him out of?”

“No, I –”

“You don’t know a damn thing about any of this. You won’t listen to me. If you’d hear me out – hear us out, then you’d –”

“Don’t you dare tell me I’d change my damn mind. Don’t – you – dare.” Your dad’s voice is quiet and slow. Dangerous. Laced with something you’ve never heard in it before. It’s not worth finding out what.

Your head shakes, knee jerking with nerves. “I don’t…I don’t know what else to say.”

The fire flickers, loses light for a second. His voice softens. “Honey…This –” he waggles his finger between your body and Joel’s, “this thing y’all have been…It ain’t right. It is not right, what y’all have been doin’. You are far too young for him. He should know better, and the fact that he doesn’t – well.”

Your brows tighten, eyes pinching around painful tears. “I know why you’re mad. I get it. I’m sorry. But I can’t –” You sigh. “You are suffocatin’ me, living here.”

His façade drops instantly. He pushes his fingers into his eyes, groaning. “Hon, you’re not hearin’ me.”

“I hear you loud and clear, I –”

He cuts you off, throwing his arms up into the air with another loud yell. The words melt into one long drone, a mountainous ramble which peaks and falls in pitch; one minute low and angry and the next high and frantic.

You sigh, shoving by him for the living room. Joel reaches for your hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“Baby,” he says.

“Ah!” Your dad blocks his advance, shaky finger held to his chest. “You dare, son.”

You’re swipe the bag from the floor by your dad’s chair, your change of clothes still in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Slinging it over your shoulder, you whip past your father and lock your hand with Joel’s.

“Hey,” Joel says, slowing you down. “Darlin’, where are you –?”

“I wanna leave.”

“Huh?” he asks, brows raised.

“I want to go,” you whisper.

He glances over to your dad, dumbfounded by the stairs. “Where d’you wanna go?”

Your shoulders roll. Anywhere. Just take me away.

He doesn’t hesitate; barely thinks it over. He tightens his grip on your hand and pulls you toward him. Your feet stumble over the carpet.

“Where in the hell –?” Your dad’s snarling picks up again, his final chance. “I don’t think so –”

Joel’s backing up towards the front door, led by the pull of your hand. “Emotions are pretty high,” he announces, “why don’t we have this conversation once everybody’s calmed down?”

“Joel, if you take her, I’ll–”

“I ain’t takin’ her anywhere. She’s an adult.”

Liar. His hand wouldn’t let go of yours if you tried to pry it from his clutches.

“I’m leavin’,” he says, “she’s just coming with me.”

Your dad barks your name, and you freeze. Joel stops, too, allows you the time to turn. Like a deer in the headlights.

“I’m going, Dad,” you shakily tell him.

“I swear to God,” he says, “if y’all walk outta that door…”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean for any of this.”

He shakes his head. “Stay, hon. Let’s talk.”

“You’re not talkin’, though. All you wanna do is argue. I wanna go with Joel.”

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere with no one! ‘specially not him!”

You shrug, give your head a solemn shake. “Stop me.”

Joel hears the exhaustion in your voice, the scratch of your throat. The way the words melt into one another. He tugs on your hand, leading you through the front door. Your dad doesn’t speak again, and you don’t turn back to check on him.

The neighborhood is silent in the early morning. Yards empty, curtains still closed. No one, not even the sun, tucked behind a thin veil of cloud, sees when you pile into the front seat of Joel’s truck.

“Baby,” he says, pulling your seatbelt over your body.

Your eyes fix on the asphalt ahead. “Just drive.”

“Hey. Look at me.”

When you turn to him, he takes your jaw in both hands. “I love you,” he says.

“Still?” you squeak, eyes heavy with sleeplessness and tears.

“More.”

“This is fucking insane, Joel.”

He nods. “Yeah. ‘n you’re worth all of it.”

“Hey,” Sarah calls when the two of you spill in through the front door. She’s on the couch, Switch console in hand. “What’s up?”

“We have a – a lodger, for the next…little while,” Joel grumbles, tossing his keys onto the sideboard. He kicks off his boots and slides them to the wall, straightens up and looks to you.

You follow suit wordlessly, slipping out of your sneakers. Joel places them by his.

“Cool,” Sarah says, standing up. “How come?”

“Just – dad trouble,” you whisper, deflated. She’s wandering around the couch. A defeated sound rings from the console hanging from her thumb.

Her head tilts. “I…I got plenty room for you,” she flashes you a warm grin, “it can be like a big-ass sleepover.”

You return her smile, a slow, grateful breath filling your lungs. Joel’s arm wraps over your shoulder as your mouth opens to answer.

“No, uh…” He clears his throat. “She’ll be in my room. With me.”

Sarah’s expression is blank. She blinks between the two of you, arms limp either side of her hips. Your eyes flit from Joel to her and back again, wide, waiting. Waiting for someone to move, or speak, or yell.

Joel looks indifferent. Unbothered. As if he just told her it’s sunny outside.

She takes a step forward, and by instinct, you draw back. “Sarah…” you mutter, and she swings around the newel post. She dodges your outstretched hand, whether accidental or deliberate – you’re not sure.

“No, it’s…Okay. Yeah. I’ll – I gotta…Yeah.”

You watch as she climbs the stairs backwards, still looking from your pleading face to her dad’s stoic. She shrugs, wiggles the Switch and mumbles something about it needing charged, before she’s spinning and taking the last few steps two at a time.

When her bedroom door closes, you slump back. Joel doesn’t let go of your shoulder, catching you and pulling you into his chest.

“Fuck,” you whisper, lips pressed against his tee. He smells like pine, like mint, like you.

“’s okay,” he says into your hair, hand curving the shape of your skull. “She’ll come around. You know Sarah.”

You turn, ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat. It doesn’t tell you anything new. You miss the days you used to listen for secret messages in the soft rhythm.

Joel’s chin rests on the crown of your head. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “None of this is your fault, you hear? None of it.”

“Now you’re just lyin’ to me. You know that ain’t true.”

A hum rumbles against your cheek like the earth readjusting, rearranging beneath your feet. You lift your head, loosen your grip around his waist.

“You need sleep,” he tells you, thumb swiping gently beneath your heavy eyes.

You don’t protest.

Joel takes your hand, leads you mutely upstairs and into his room. His bed’s not made. The shades aren’t even open. He lifts the sea of sheets, tosses them twice in the air and then pulls the corner back, letting you sit on the edge of the mattress.

He undresses you carefully, like your limbs might crack and burst at the slightest touch. He replaces your hoodie with a fresh tee of his own, one that still smells like the world before its end, and you lay back into bed slowly.

It’s shaped like you – the divot in the mattress. You slot back into it like you never left. The curl of your back and the fold of your knees. You’ve left little pieces of evidence all over the place – all over Joel.

He runs a delicate hand across your head, the repetitive movement lulling you off to sleep. Pushing the boat out.

“You need anythin’?” he asks.

You shake your head, arms wrapping tight underneath your pillow. “I’m good,” you whisper, and the waves pull you under.

His bedside lamp is on when you stir, the left half of the room a glowing honey color. His bare leg slotted between yours, your hands intertwined on his chest. His finger drifts back and forth against your palm, the strokes matching your breathing.

You’re still tired, eyes still rolling beneath heavy lids, but when some commentator screams at the game playing on the TV screen, you snap awake.

Joel curses under his breath, begins tearing the bed apart for the remote – but by the time he turns the volume down, your head is propped against his pillow, knuckles rubbing your eyes.

“Sorry, baby,” he sighs, kissing your forehead as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“’s okay.” You flash him a lazy smile. “What time is it?”

“Almost five thirty.”

“Damn,” you mutter. “Slept all fucking day.”

“You needed it,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “You want some dinner? Or – breakfast?”

You nod. “Sounds good.”

He disappears downstairs. The echoing of pots and pans and the hum of the extraction fan follow in his wake. You groan, stretching out like a starfish across the messy bed, forgetting for just a moment why you’re here, and what’s happened, and how different everything is.

It feels the same, even after eight hours sleep. Same guilt, and shame. Same anger and resentment towards your dad. Same punch to your gut anytime you picture his face, the wrinkled frown. The trembling fist holding your bag in midair.

The blow is soothed only by the swelling of warmth across your chest, looking around the room. The safety you feel here, as though you’re cut off from the rest of the world. Your father on pause the second you left the house; Joel’s room and his bed giving you time to catch your breath and recalibrate.

You’re not thinking about when you’ll have to go back home. You’re just not.

You knot your shorts back around your waist, take one huge swig of the water Joel left for you, and open his bedroom door, your head throbbing with each movement.

There’s a figure at the end of the hall, frozen in space like a phantom.

“Morning,” she says. Her hair is tied back, oversized hoodie over her shoulders.

“Hi.”

“You sleep good?”

“Must’ve. Missed half the day.”

Sarah smiles.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

“Hm,” her head tips back and forth, “not today. Don’t have the energy. Watch your back tomorrow, though.”

For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, a genuine laugh pushes its way past your lips. The knot in your stomach loosens, even if only a little.

“You wanna come help with dinner?” she asks, nodding to the stairs.

You smile. “Please.”

The three of you settle on pasta with some tomato sauce from a jar mixed through. You sit opposite Sarah as Joel sets the plates down, sliding into the seat next to yours with a gentle squeeze on your knee under the table.

The three of you talk. About nothing in particular – college, Rita and her cross stitch, some client of Joel’s whose wife got caught having an affair – but it soothes the ache in your heart. It feels like a blanket over your shoulders, a spot by the fire, a voice in your ear promising you that things are still okay. That they can still be this way: light, alive. The earth is still moving, the stars are still pinned up in the sky. Tomorrow will always come, and the day after that.

Sarah asks about LA. You tell her you didn’t know she knew. She grins and says, “Well, now that I do – you better put an application in.”

You hum around the fork between you lips. “Maybe.”

“Come on. The two of us out there together? For six whole months? You gotta do it. Tell me you don’t wanna do it. Are you gonna do it?”

Joel casts her a glower, his stony expression pushing her back in her chair.

Your eyes shift from hers over to his. He runs a slice of garlic bread around the curve of his plate, coating it in sauce, before he notices you staring. His face breaks into a tiny smirk.

“I don’t know,” you decide, turning back to Sarah. “I still gotta think it through.”

She nods earnestly. “Yeah, you should sleep on it. And then, first thing tomorrow, we’re doing it.”

The two of you let her have the final say, falling quiet until some new conversation is shifted onto the table, and then another, and then another. When you’re done eating, Sarah takes your hand and drags you back upstairs.

Sarah Miller’s bedroom has been baby pink for as long as you can remember. Joel painted it one summer while she was at camp, eliciting help from your dad to shift all the furniture. As she grew up, she covered the walls in posters, changed the sheets, changed the curtains, strung fairy lights to distract from what she saw as a kiddish color.

But she never asked to change it. Always wanted the same blushing pink her dad had picked out when she was ten – even if secretly.

Her blinds are tilted, golden light from the slowly lowering sun filtering through onto her carpet, stained with tiny dabs of nail polish. She throws herself down onto the bed, her curls igniting brown in the summer light, and you slowly sink down beside her.

“Nice Zayn poster,” you note, pointing to the straight-browed, dark-haired figure painted in a moody grayscale on her ceiling. “Interesting placement.”

“Was so I could dream about him every night.”

“You didn’t wanna take him to California?”

“Didn’t have to,” Sarah smiles, tapping her temple, “he’s all up here, baby.”

You snort. Your eyes flutter closed; hands clasped on your stomach. She sighs contentedly by your side, listening to the chatter of birds out front.

“I miss this,” she says eventually, her voice smooth and soothing. She elbows you lightly.

“Me too,” you reply. And then, with a deep breath: “Sarah…are you okay?”

When she turns back, the sunlight catches in her eyes. They twinkle, like she’s some doe-eyed Disney character. Someone who might be able to wiggle her fingers and make the last day disappear.

“Am I okay?”

“Yeah. With…everything.”

She shrugs, mumbles an I dunno. “What can I do about it? It’s weird, but…it’s none of my business. I guess…I guess if y’all are happy, then – you know. I’m gone half the time, anyways.”

“It is your business, too, though,” you tell her. “I don’t wanna make you feel weird.”

“I think you got bigger things to worry about right now. Sounds like your dad’s pretty mad.”

You sigh, looking back up to the boyband poster. “Yeah. He’s pretty mad.”

“My dad told me what happened. Well, parts. I can kinda guess the rest. Can’t really blame him, I guess.”

You shrug. “Guess not, but then…I am twenty-three, y’know? I’m not a kid. I can make my own mind up.”

She’s still staring at you, but you don’t return her glance. Something tells you that you already know what it says. Still, she verbalizes it.

“Would you be okay if I slept with your dad?”

That is so not what I thought you were gonna fuckin’ say.

You shoot her a look. “What?”

“’m askin’. Would you be okay with it, if I –”

You lift your hand to shut her up. “That is…so totally different.”

“How is that different?” she scoffs.

“Because…because…my dad’s not hot.”

Sarah gags.

“And – and also you’re not friends with him. It’s just different, alright?”

“You were friends with my dad?”

You’re laughing with her now. You can hear how pathetic your justification sounds. “Kinda, yeah. I was close to ‘im.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious, now, babe.”

You smack her arm and she giggles.

“I think he’ll come around. Your dad.”

“I don’t. Not ever.”

“Why wouldn’t he? His best friend would become his son-in-law, I would become his granddaughter-in-law –” She gasps and props herself up on her elbow, staring you down. “Does this make you, like, my stepmom?”

You spit out a laugh, and Sarah throws her head back against her pillow, clutching her belly.

“You’re my fuckin’ mom, dude!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you reply, covering your face with your hands. “Aw, fuck,” you breathe, giggling.

You settle back into the bed, your heads leaning against one another as you stare up at Zayn and his audience of glow-in-the-dark stars. Sarah hums something softly to herself, her ankle rocking, her fingers tapping.

The two of you were raised together. Sisters, when neither of you knew what that word really meant. You figure she’s as close as you could find – someone who reflects all of your favorite parts of yourself and who calls out the uglier ones without hesitation. Someone who comforts you with a punch to the arm, a mocking quip about your hair or the something in your teeth. A safe little secret keeper, for all of your wildest dreams and biggest fears.

“I guess this is all why you were so down in the dumps last night, right? Your dad knew then?”

You shake your head. “Not at that point. He found out after we all left. Realized it all on his own. It’s all just…so fucking stupid…”

She sighs. “My dad – if he…if he makes you happy, then I don’t even know. As long as I don’t have to see it – we’re cool.”

One cinderblock of weight lifts from your chest, allowing a rugged breath to escape. “Wish my dad would take a leaf outta your book,” you mumble.

“He’s just mad,” Sarah says. “He’s just mad, and he’ll eventually calm down.”

“Doesn’t matter even if he does calm down,” you reply. “My dad has more of a…restrictive parenting approach.”

“Can you really parent a twenty-three-year-old?”

“He finds a way to try.”

She scoffs, saying, “I get it. My dad’s more, try it ‘n see. Your dad is, like, try it ‘n see…what your punishment is.”

You both erupt into laughter, and Sarah reaches for the TV remote.

“Exactly,” you tell her, tugging on the hem of Joel’s shirt. “Although, if your dad found out you were with my dad, I don’t think he’d be cool with it, either.”

“Yeah,” she smirks, flicking through Netflix titles, “y’all got what you deserved.”

The sound of Sarah’s bedroom door closing over stirs you. Her room is the color of rust; the stream of amber sunlight on the carpet replaced by that of the streetlights. Beneath the door, the sliver of light is shifted by the sway of a silhouette walking off down the hall.

Sarah’s snoring quietly beside you, still in her jeans. Keeping an eye on her, you roll off the bed and creep towards the door, a slow groan coming from the handle as you twist it. Joel’s at the opposite end of the hall, disappearing into his room as you shut Sarah back into her warm slumber.

“Thought you were sleepin’,” he whispers when you slip into his room. He’s already sat in bed, leant against the headboard. The room a thick darkness, a black cloud of dusk spiraling around you and cutting you off from the rest of the world.

“Heard you come in.” You wander over, pausing at the side of the bed. “Wanna stay with you.”

“C’mere,” he says, holding a hand out. You take it, pulling yourself into his lap. He slips his hands under the hem of your shorts, fingertips brushing the crests of your hipbones. “You okay?” he asks, thumbs swiping gently on the seam of your thigh.

“Never better. You?”

He sighs in response and looks off to the window, the light catching his eye. You tilt your head and bend forward, kissing below his ear. He smells like whiskey. You breathe it in, inhaling like the sharp scent might fold you under a numb blanket of inebriation, too.

Joel takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you from his neck, watching the shift in your expression before he kisses you – steady, bracing. The first time since everything went so wrong.

For a few minutes you pretend nothing has changed – you’re still sneaking around, shushing one another; someone’s in the next room, there are still secrets to be kept. You slip your shorts down your legs, kicking them over the side of the bed; Joel’s sweatpants follow soon after. His hands surrender and you push up on his chest, dragging your core against his stubborn crotch, lips never losing contact. Tongues rolling against one another, noses bumping; a tangle of breath between you until you’ve no idea which is yours and which is his.

It’s all you know how to do, after all. It’s how this started, it’s how it got out of control. The two of you taking out your needs on one another. Right now is no different. You need to feel something other than the dread in the pit of your stomach, the ache in your heart anytime you look at him and know he feels it, too.

You come up for air and suddenly the feeling dissipates; doubt sets back in and fear washes over you like ice water. Your hips cease, Joel’s hands lift from your body. He pushes the hair from your face to find his own expression mirrored in yours.

Everything has changed.

You watch his movements, the light trace of his finger on your bare skin, the pinch of fabric as he adjusts his boxers. The careful movements of his own hips, trying not to incite anything more.

“I love you,” you offer, when he doesn’t say anything. Whispered, like it’s a question, like something to dangle in front of him to make him bite.

At the very least, it unsticks his gaze from the cotton print over your chest and back up to your face – where he softens and says, “Oh, darlin’. I love you, too.”

He gives you a squeeze and pulls you by the shoulders closer, letting you feel his lips on yours again and again, until you’re out of breath. You nuzzle your head under his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart at your ear.

Joel trails his hands up and down your spine. He breaks the silence first – stammers his way through a question you’re not sure how to answer.

“Was I – was I hurtin’ you? All this time?”

You lift your head, looking blankly at him. “What –?”

“Was I hurting you?”

“Hurting me?”

He nods. “Everythin’ we were doin’. Everything we’ve done. You wanted me to be doing it, right?”

He looks…scared, as though forty years have been shaved from him over the course of one day. Eyes glassy like he might burst into tears; bottom lip almost trembling with uncertainty.

You sit up and cup his face; he breathes a sigh of relief when you look him dead in the eye and say, “I wanted you to be doing all of it.”

“All of it?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you nod, “nothing you ever did ever hurt me.”

He lowers his gaze. “’cept when I left.”

“You came back.”

His thumb curves beneath the slip of fabric on your hips, toying with the elastic. There’s more in his question, you know it. He’s not convinced by a word you say.

“It’s just…all such a fuckin’ mess,” he groans, fingertips massaging his forehead.

You hesitate, unwilling to agree and unable to disagree. It is a fucking mess – that much is true. But if that’s all it is, then why does your heart pause for breath whenever you see him? Why does the mere thought of his presence, the tiniest glimpse of him – why does it all send your stomach somersaulting?

How can something supposed to be so bad, make you feel so fucking good?

“It was wrong of me,” Joel says, “to flirt with you that night I first saw you again. To put you in that position. But I did, and we ended up here. And I’m glad we did, baby, you know I am, but…it’s on me. This thing with you ‘n your dad.”

“You don’t think he should back off a little? Don’t think he’s oversteppin’ a mark, even a tiny bit?”

He shakes his head. “I’d do the damn same, ‘n you know it. I shoulda known better. Shouldn’ta let it happen. You mean more to me than the world, and I – I caused all this hurt for you.”

Sure, it’s real noble of him to take all of the blame, but it wasn’t just him. You had a part in it, too: your batting eyelashes, your hands where they shouldn’t have been. Your jaw tightens when he says it, holding back from telling him you want as much responsibility in this as he’s taking, even if he won’t allow it.

But an argument with Joel, right off the back of one with your father, isn’t really something you need. It wouldn’t help anything. So, you swallow your words and whisper new ones.

“You shouldn’t have flirted with me?”

His eyebrows flick, concern knotting them together. He sits up, scooping you in his arms. “I meant I should’ve never let it get to this point.”

“’n what about the first time you touched me?”

The memory plays between you: the weight of him on your body, the sound of the stereo system firing up downstairs. One hand between your legs and the other pinching your heart.

The light in your eyes starts to bleed through your body into Joel’s, distorting the projected image of that scene in your bedroom. It ignites somewhere low, travelling upwards until his stare locks with yours: an understanding weaving between you both.

You lean back from him, drinking in the sight. “Nothin’ but trouble, right? That’s what you said, that first night. You knew damn well where it might go. ‘n you still wanted it, just as bad.”

“Darlin’, I’m not sayin’ I didn’t, I –”

“No, no, I get it. I get it.”

You push his shoulders to the mattress. Fire in your belly, some kind of twisted energy pumping through your veins, you grind down on him again.

That thing, about this being all you know how to do? About taking your needs out on each other?

Right now, you need distraction. You need something to tire you out, to drain you of energy, to stop your thoughts for five minutes. You need someone to hold you, and love you, and make you feel good. Joel’s the perfect distraction.

He’s still hard. You’re still wet. It’s easy.

You drag your hips lazily over his, cotton riding against lace. He’s growing harder, bigger; he’s pushing up into you. You respond by pushing down, and Joel groans.

“Hey,” he takes hold of your thighs, “baby, we don’t have to –”

“Then, let’s stop.”

He says nothing.

You reach down past the band of his boxers and take him in your hand. He bites back a moan, his head falling into the pillow. You’re stroking him: long, hard strokes, fist tightening around him, fingers dipping between your folds to apply your slick to his length.

“Say the word, Joel. We’ll stop,” you pant, unsure if even you buy the words you’re saying. “You said it: none of this should’ve ever happened. You should’ve never laid a finger on me.”

His arms lift, throbbing biceps curving around his pillow and crumpling it against his skull. He doesn’t tell you to stop, because he doesn’t fucking want you to. He needs this – needs you as much as you need him, needs you more than he needs the air in his lungs.

And you’re right: it is different now. Now, it’s out in the open. The whole world could know, for all the two of you care. And maybe that’s the kick to it, now. No more hiding. No more fleeing from shadow to shadow.

You tug his underwear down and lower yourself, dragging your folds up and down the width of him while sticky precome gathers at his tip, dappling the trail of hair from his navel. And when you can’t do it anymore, when the mere sight of him drenched in your arousal threatens to send you over the edge, you line him up to your entrance and sink down, slow.

He moans into the pillow, fabric muffling your favorite sound in the world. And he doesn’t stop, his chest doesn’t stop rumbling until you reach his hilt, where he gasps.

“Darlin’,” he whimpers, hands coming back down to hold you in place.

You bat them away. “Uh-uh,” you tut, pinning his wrists above his head. “Not a – fuckin’ – finger.”

Joel grits his teeth, eyes locking onto yours, directly above him as you slide up off his cock, hips circling as you do, and then back down. Your free hand curves around his ribcage, the solid flesh of his torso stabilizing you.

“Poor baby,” you coo, pouting your lip. “Can’t even touch me. Can’t put a hand on your girl when you need to most.”

“Fuckin’ – whore,” he grunts, and your hips grind to a halt. You release his wrists.

“That what you think of me?” you ask, sitting upright on his lap. Joel’s still buried deep inside you.

“No,” he’s breathing, lips curling, “no, baby. Keep goin’.”

“I’m not the one goin’ back on my word here.”

He flashes a thick, filthy smile. “I know, I know. Go on. Make me proud.”

You lean forward again and he sighs, the feel of your wet cunt wrapping like satin around him.

“You think he’d trust you, anyway, after everythin’?” you mewl. “Think he thinks I’m in a different room right now? Tucked up in bed, safe ‘n sound? Nah, baby, he knows. He knows what you’re doin’ right now. Keep your hands off me? You can’t keep your cock outta me.”

Joel moans in agreement, hands gripping into the sheets to ground himself, hips bucking up against yours. You place your hands either side of him on the mattress and start to bounce, skin slapping, bed shaking.

“You like that, huh?” you moan, feeling the sharp kiss of his head at your cervix. Nudging, nudging, nudging. Blunt pain, blissful pleasure. “Like me riding it. Takin’ what I – oh, fuck – what I need.”

He lets out a guttural moan, writhing around underneath you. It’s like he’s forgotten where he is, forgotten you guys aren’t alone in the house; drunk on the sight, smell, sound, and feel of you on him, not even trying to stifle his sounds anymore.

You close your eyes and hope Sarah doesn’t wake anytime soon.

You’re keeping the façade up for Joel, but on the inside, you feel the exact same. His words echo in your ears, shouldn’ta let it happen, and how quickly that melted into make me proud. Your head starts to swim, your eyes heavy, your body trembling.

The thatch of hair at the bottom of his cock brushes against your clit, a gasp drawing between your teeth. Pain begins to rip upwards on the inside of your thighs, forcing you forward.

“Joel,” you pant, leaning over him. “Fuck.”

“Gotta let me touch you, baby,” he whispers, hands lifting beneath the fabric of your shirt. His fingers ghost across the curve of your shoulders. “You need it, don’t you?”

You whimper in response and Joel slips past the moment of weakness, taking a strong grip of both shoulders and pulling himself upright on the mattress. The tee slips from your body in one breath, and his hands follow the incline of your neck to your jaw, holding you steady as he fucks up into you.

“You want me to fill you up?” he asks, leaning back with a palm flat on the bed behind to watch himself disappear between your legs.

You’re nodding desperately. “Mhm.”

“Gotta ask nicely, remember? Be a good girl for me?”

“Dick,” you hiss, draping your arms over his shoulders.

He pouts. Sweat gleams on his upper lip. His voice cracks, weakens like stone beginning to crumble. “’s not v-very n-ice, baby.”

“Comeinme,” you beg, your fingers swirling around the dark hair at the bottom of his skull. “Please, come in me.”

“Atta-girl,” he groans, and his hands instantly lock on your hips. You don’t stop him this time, letting him push you down as hard as he can onto his cock, coming as deep inside you as he can.

And then – that familiar feeling of being his. Filled with him, your eyes and your nose and your mouth and your cunt spilling with the sight, smell, taste and feel of him. He coats your walls, throbs deep inside you as he claims every tiny corner of your body.

He growls as his cock twitches, and you watch his expression go from determined, to blissful, to fucking exhausted when he stills and his head rolls forward into your chest. His breath hot and staggered between your breasts; light kisses peppered onto damp skin.

You watch him through a post-sex haze, the air between you thick and blurry, as he presses his lips into your chest. He sucks along the cushion of your breast until he reaches the nipple, lips cupping around it, tongue flicking with all the effort he has left in him.

When he lifts his head again, one final kiss to your sensitive flesh, you balance his chin under your thumbs.

“You come?” he asks, the words propelled by a heavy exhale.

You shake your head slowly. “I’m tired, anyway.”

“Alright,” Joel groans, flipping you over. He pushes your thighs apart, his spend leaking from your slit and running southwards.

“Joel,” you giggle, “c’mon, I’m tired. You don’t have to –”

He’s already pushing himself lower, whipping the dark cotton tee from his shoulders and brushing his naked chest over your stomach. You lower your arms to hook under his.

“Hey. Come here a sec.”

Joel blinks up at you. “What’s up?”

“Just – come here.”

He kneels back up to you, hovering over you with his hands under your shoulders. His limp cock lies against the inside of your thigh as he lowers his weight onto your hips. You tilt your head, mapping his face.

Your knuckle runs across his cheek, the jagged bristle of his beard on your warm skin. Like running your hand under water, unable to tell whether it’s scalding hot or freezing cold – there is no saying whether you’re so used to him now that the feel of him is unaffecting, or entirely all-consuming. There’s no middle ground. Not anymore.

“I know –” You sigh, your voice swollen with a soft cry. There’s no stopping the tears anymore. They just come. “I know you think you should’ve known better. But I am so fucking glad that you didn’t.”

It’s done nothing but pour all day. You woke up this morning to the rain battering against Joel’s window, your body hooked against his by his arm.

Day four. Still no call, no text, no nothing from your dad. You haven’t exactly returned the favor – the closest you dared was having Sarah drive you to your house while he was at work so you could dip into the hallway, grab your car keys, and drive straight back to Joel’s. You pulled up in his driveway alongside each other and she rolled her window down, checking your expression before snorting.

It’s like a damn Mission: Impossible film, she jested.

The pain feels blunter, more distant than it did on Saturday. Like your father has bowed his head, faded some into the dark background of upstage. You realize, a few days in – the movie nights and the meals homecooked by three chefs; the way Joel’s scent starts to become yours, his T-shirts hanging loose over your shoulders and his boxers snug against your hips – that you forget to check on the shadow of your dad. Forget the spot he once stood in, the thunderous cloud cast over his head. The same one that so regularly used to pour rain over you.

Sarah went out with her friends a few hours ago. She called to say she’d miss dinner, so you and Joel ordered Chinese. You’re sat with your legs in his lap picking away at some noodles, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while he catches up on some baseball highlights show.

“Fuckin’ – idiots,” he mumbles, fork angrily picking at rice.

Your eyes don’t lift from the Instagram caption you’re reading. “Fuckin’ idiots,” you flatly agree.

Joel’s head turns. “Alright, Miss Big Rangers Fan. I remember a time you pretended to be into ‘em to get my attention.” He attempts to grab your phone, and you swipe it from his grasp.

“Shut up,” you giggle, grabbing hold of your takeout box. “Joel – be careful!”

He snorts, settling back into the couch, changing the TV channel. You give his thigh a little kick, tugging your blanket up. As the TV switches from one showing to the next, your phone buzzes.

You glance down, chopsticks halfway to your mouth, and freeze.

Dear Candidate…

“Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes glued to the flickering screen.

“Joel.”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You unstick your stare from the phone, looking up to meet his perplexed expression. “They got back to me.”

He squints for a second before the remote is dropped to the cushion. “And?”

“I don’t know, I just saw the first line.”

“Open it, baby. C’mon. Whatever it is, you gotta know.”

“You know what,” you shrug, “I’m good. I don’t need to know. It’s all good.”

“Hey.” Joel snaps his fingers scooping your gaze from the floral, bohemian name on the header of the email and up to his own. “Open it, or I’m kickin’ you out.”

You mock gasp. “You’d put me out on the streets?”

“Worse. Put you back to your dad’s. Now open the email.”

Your thumb trembles as it hovers over the screen, one tap away from the biggest change in your life since you left for New York. Like it’s five years ago, and you’re sat in front of your laptop, psyching yourself up to open the response to your college application.

“Okay,” you breathe, slamming your thumb down. Joel leans in, staring at the screen from upside down.

It swipes across and your eyes flit down, focusing hard on the sentence beneath the opening line. You blink rapidly, waiting for the wash of tears to clear and dissolve it to Unfortunately, or After careful consideration, or We appreciate your interest.

But it never does.

Invite to interview stares back up at you, waiting for your face to break. Expectant, a little nervous. Jittering inside your shaking fist. Joel breaks first, when he spots it.

He almost throws his food onto the coffee table, taking your container from your hands and bundling you up in his. He pulls you into his body, presses heavy kisses to the crook of your neck as you laugh, your entire body quaking with joy and terror and relief and anxiety.

“What’d I tell you?” he says, kissing you roughly. “I knew it, babygirl. I knew you would – Fuck, I am so fucking proud of you.”

“It’s just –” sniff, “– it’s just an interview, remember. I might not get it, in the end.”

Joel shakes his head. “I don’t care. You’re a damn sight closer to gettin’ it than you were three days ago.”

You sit for probably twenty minutes, laughing and then weeping and then laughing again – until the food is cold, there’s a new episode of South Park rolling on TV, and Joel’s T-shirt is soaked with your tears.

“I gotta call Sarah,” you whisper, finger sifting through his hair. Your head buried in his neck, your knees either side of his hips.

“She’s going to lose her fuckin’ mind,” he mumbles into your shoulder, laughing to himself. “She’ll sit off-camera in the corner of the room, so they can’t see her, ‘n hold up cue cards.”

You giggle, letting it dissipate into something weaker, something unconvinced. In a small voice, you say, “We just got one step closer to being four states apart.”

He looks up at you, curving a hand around your jaw, and pulls your lips against his. It’s slow, tender – his every thought and feeling translated into physical movement, transformed into a spin of butterflies in your chest.

When you pull away from him, smiling dumbly, he clips your cheek. “That scare you?”

You hesitate, afraid to tell him the truth. But it’s Joel. He knows every thought that passes through your head. You nod, eyes filling with a salty sting.

“Why?” he asks.

You glance out to the street. “’cause I love you. I don’t wanna leave you.”

Joel nods. Considers it. Then says, “You know why it doesn’t scare me?”

You lift your eyebrows in response. Why?

“Because I love you. And we are gonna be just fine.”

And you believe him.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #cowboy like me

[hell-bats]

earth 42!miles x gn!reader

summary: miles is very aware you love making bracelets, you would always have tons on your wrist with all sorts of beads and charms, you left a few at his house so he stops by to give them back, somehow you rope him into making some with you.

extra: mostly fluff, light swearing, reader listens to destiny’s child, reader is mean (playfully)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

notes: reader is black to me but anyone can read, and he’s been plaguing my brain as of recent it’s insane

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I can’t believe you got me doin this” miles says his brows furrowed as he’s trying to put the thread through the shiny black bead.

he originally came by to drop off the multiple bracelets you left all over his room, everytime he sees you, you always got a row of them on your wrist, even one for every occasion, one of every color, every type of bead, any charm you can think of, it was impossible to find a variation you didn’t have.

now here he was, sitting on the carpet of your bedroom, criss-cross apple sauce with destiny’s child playing from your phone, the window slightly open for a slight breeze to blow in, as he’s attempting to a bracelet of his own.

“you need help over there?” you ask, holding back a smirk at his struggling, this comes easy to you, you’re on your fourth bracelet by now and it’s been only 15 minutes.

“nah I got it, just gimmie a sec” he says squinting as the thread misses the hole of the bead, his hands slightly trembling as he’s concentrated. you let out a laugh and scoot over closer to him, you can feel his warm body radiating and the smell of his cologne he always wears which made a fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

“I told you I got it” he says protesting, despite him clearly struggling. “ boy if you don’t let me help you..” you say rolling your eyes and taking it from him, you grab the bead and swiftly yet smoothly slide it on the thread, tying off the end to start it off for him. “see, wasn’t that easier?” you say with a smile looking over at him, inches away from his face.

he shrugs, “damn, you good with your hands I see” he says slyly, he was speaking practically in your ear, before getting another bead, slightly getting the hang of it but barely, this boy was gonna be the death of you.

“I see that you aren’t” you say back teasingly, you’re on your last bead getting ready to tie the knot to finish it, this would be your fifth bracelet. “ you tryna bet on that?” he says smirking at you, giving that smug smile he loves to do knowing the effect it has.

“you must want me to throw you out?” you say, trying to ignore him, he gives a chuckle before shaking his head lightly and his eyes practically piercing through you the way he’s staring at you, he shifts the way he’s sitting “you know you love me, but seriously.. this a real talent you got, don’t lose it” he says, his voice laced with sweetness and playfulness to it.

“might have to keep some of these too” he says eyeing the extra bracelets you have laying around on the carpet along with some of the variety of charms, picking one up that had a dark crimson red color to it, each had their own look, he didn’t mind, it’s the fact they were yours,your creations that he loved so much and he loved seeing how happy it makes you.

“you can get a few, don’t break them cause I ain’t gonna make you more” you say sounding pretty serious as you give him a look narrowing your eyes.

he hums at that before speaking “the ones still lying around my room you made, begs to differ but it’s ight” he says with a small smile before getting up and flicking your forehead lightly to look at your collection of bracelets, definitely taking more then what he came with.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

end of this little drabble 😭🫶🏾, if you did make him a bunch he’d make sure to wear every single one, not at once but he’d switch through them and would definitely say you made em if someone asked.

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv miles #atsv #spiderman atsv #x reader #this is soo self indulgent #prowler miles

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Slutmas Day 1

Only You (Matt)

Request: you're secretly fw and both have real feelings for one another but won't act on it. you guys go to a party where this girl keeps tryna get at matt, being super flirtatious and tryna b all touchy feely. matt turns her down but she keeps being persistent and it's making you jealous so you avoid him for the rest of the night. but he finds you and shows you that it's only you? idk idk @lustfulslxt

Warnings: Slight angst, sorta public sex, friends to lovers, fluffy ending, jealous reader, confessing their love for one another, slight mention of beer/alcohol and marijuana

“I don’t want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do baby”

Y/n’s pov

I was over at the triplets house, everyone was getting ready to go to some influencer party but Chris and Nick were taking forever. I was in Matt’s room with him while we waited on his brothers. “You know, you look really hot tonight princess” he said which caused me to roll my eyes. “Yeah, okay Matthew” I replied with attitude. You see, the thing is, Matt and I are friends with benefits but we’ve both developed some feelings for each other. Lately he’s been hanging around this one other girl quite a lot and to be honest it’s starting to piss me off. I’m jealous and I’ll admit it, so I’ve been kind of dismissive towards him lately, not wanting to get my heart broken.

Anyways, back to me and Matt talking. “Don’t be so harsh princess, I’m just complimenting what’s mine” Matt dumbly smirked at me. “Oh shut the fuck up Matthew, I’m not yours and you’re not mine, you’ve made that very clear!” I replied. As I was opening his door he yelled “What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” but I had already made my way down to Chris room. “Can you please hurry up, I want to go” “Yeah, yeah, pick out shoes and a shirt for me and I’ll be ready” he mumbled. Finally everyone was ready and we got into the van, we’ll probably take an Uber home just to be safe since Matt was probably going to get wasted.

•••Time Skip•••

We had been at this party for about two hours and I was already pretty high, only having one drink. Matt has been talking to some new bitch, I glared over at him as he smiled at me. He was seemingly unaware of anything being wrong so I decided to just continue avoiding him. “Hey pretty lady, watcha smoking there?” Matt asked me as I look another hit off my pen. I rolled my eyes and walked away from him with a scoff but was quickly pulled into a different direction. “Hey let me fucking go!” I yelled at whoever was dragging me but they turned around and of course it was Matt.

“Matthew! What the fuck!” I yelled at him but he just kept walking. After a minute or two, we made it to an unoccupied bathroom, Matt quickly pushed me inside and locked the door before pushing me up against it. “What’s your deal tonight? You’re acting—“ he started before I cut him off by pushing him off of me. “What’s wrong Matt? That chick you’ve been flirting with all night turn you down?” I rolled my eyes. “Other way around, I turned her down sweetheart. Stop being so fucking jealous!” Matt said between gritted teeth as his hand came up to wrap around my throat.

“Stop fucking every girl you see!” I yelled back but that just seemed to piss Matt off more considering he pushed me up against the wall. “You’re the only girl I’m fucking, you’re the only girl I’m talking to, you’re the only girl that I fucking care about!” he once again yelled before smashing our lips together. The kiss was hot and sloppy, our tongues fighting for dominance as our teeth clashed together. It was so needy, we only pulled away long enough for Matt to say “Jump” and catch me. I was set on the bathroom counter and Matt finally pulled away from me, both of us out of breath.

“Let me prove it to you” Matt said as he started kissing my neck. “Okay” with that he pulled off my panties and shoved them in his pocket before undoing his belt and pants, letting those and his boxers pool around his ankles. “You ready baby?” “Yes please” Matt lined himself up with me before thrusting in and out slowly. “Matt babe, faster please” I whined and he obliged, pounding into me like no tomorrow. “Fuck this pussy was made for ME! You’re mine, you got that Y/n? MINE!” he grunted out as he somehow started going faster.

I was pulling on his hair and loudly moaning, if anybody walked by the door they’d definitely hear me. “I don’t want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do baby!” Matt said pulling back and slowing down a little bit, “Bad timing but please be my girlfriend!” he added. I was shocked to say the least but I agreed, “Yes! Yes I’m yours Matt! All yours!” I whimpered. As soon as I agreed to be his girlfriend, he went back to railing me like no tomorrow.

“Fuck Matt, I’m so close!” “Me too baby just hold on” he started to rub my clit and smashed his lips against mine again. His movements were all so fast and overwhelming in the best way possible and it was getting harder to hold my orgasm in. Luckily for me, Matt pulled back from the kiss just enough to mumble, “Cum for me baby, cum so I can fill you up” against my lips. With that, I let go, cumming hard and clenching around his cock.

I threw my head back as I moaned, causing my head to hit the mirror “Careful baby— Oh god fuck! Yeah that’s right- You’re pussy’s so fucking tight for me, shit!” Matt moaned as he came inside of me. Both of our legs were a little bit shaky and our breathing was erratic but even as Matt pulled out, everything in this moment felt right. “Let me clean you up sweetheart” Matt said as he grabbed a washcloth from under the sink, getting it wet before gently wiping me down. “Hey Matt, I think I’m in love you” I spoke quietly as Matt cleaned himself off and put his pants back on.

“I know I’m fucking in love with you. I love you and I have for so long, I just didn’t want you to leave me so I never told you” he admitted to me, standing in between my legs and fixing my hair. “Can I take you out on a date tomorrow Matty?” “No but I’ll take you out on a date” he winked. “By the way you’re not getting your panties back tonight” he smirked as I hopped off the counter. “Maaatttt no, I need them” I protested but he just opened my he bathroom door and grabbed my hand.

“No you don’t, me and you are going home. I’ll tell Nick and Chris to catch an Uber” I just rolled my eyes with a cheesy smile on my face. “You better massage my legs when we get home” I teased as Matt opened the car door for me. “Oh trust me, I’m gonna run you a nice warm bath and take off your makeup and dry your hair and just take care of you for the rest of the night my love” Matt smiled before placing a quick peck to my lips and driving us home.

All work is subject to copyright

©️ Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2023

Do not steal my work

#matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplet smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets imagine #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolos

[bubbbii]

Make-Up

title : Make-up

pairing : Jungkook x reader

genre : make-up sex, kpop smut, Jungkook smut, dirty content

warning : doggystyle, whining/whimpers, degrading, name-calling, multiple orgasms, choking, edging, spanking, fingering, very dirty content

summary : The couple haven’t talked to each other in over a week ever since the club incident that came upon them. But there friends finally bring them together as it began to go upon week 2, and Jungkook decides to take the initiative..and prove to her she’s the only one. But is it that easy for y/n?

[REQUESTED]

[I have a lot of requests to get to🤭]

!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!

do not steal story or idea without permission please thank uu :)

Let’s go <3

_____________________________________________

I came down the stairs of my private condo and towards the large modern kitchen, putting my dishes away when my phone rang. I sighed, flipping my phone on the other side to see the contact. Jin. I rolled my eyes, picking it up as i washed the 3 dishes I had. “Ma’am you need to come back here right now” “No. Why should I!?” “Because y/n! HES YOUR BOYFRIEND! You guys need to fix this!” I dropped the dishes in my hands, wiping my hands before leaning against the marble counter and put the phone in my hand.

I’m about to get ugly real quick.

“You listen here Seokjin ok!? This is HIS problem- I DIDNT GO TO THE GODAMN CLUB AND HAD A BITCH ALL OVER ME TRYNA GET IN MY PANTS OK!? Don’t tell me where to go and what the fuck to do when this is clearly HIS fault ok!? You’re fucking sick - ALL OF YALL ARE SICK OK!? This is not me to fix, I don’t have to go NOWHERE if he wants to act this way trust I CAN TOO!” I snapped, hanging up the phone afterwards and took a deep breath before slowly going back to the dishes.

I don’t wanna deal with this shit, I really don’t have the time. Not this evening I don’t. But I soon get another phone call making my eyes roll at the back of my head i’m irritation as I, this time, picked the phone up with anger and saw the contact. Hoseok. I took a deep breath, picking the phone up. “Yes?” “Open the door” I sighed, hanging up and wiping my hands before going towards the door to open it.

Hoseok came inside, closing the door as I made my way back towards the kitchen with him closely behind. “Y/n…you know what I’m gonna say right?” “And i’m not here for it” “Y/n cmon-“ “Hoseok i told you im not here for it! I’m not ok!? I told Jin that this is HIS situation to fix - not mine! Ya’ll act like IM the one who went there!” “No one is acting like nothing. We just want you guys to talk it’s going on week 2!” “I CAN GO FOR LONGER!” “Y/n don’t be like that” I huffed, finishing up the dishes before wiping the counter.

Hoseok leaned against the counter as I turned around, and looked at me with his eyes. I stared into them, knowing what I have to do. “Its 8! And I have plans!” “Well they’re now canceled, let’s go” “We’ll im not dressed-“ “Y/n” i groaned really loudly, throwing on a hoodie and sweats and put on my slides before turning off the lights and followed Hoseok out the door. “You’re sick for this” “I love you too” Hoseok opened the door for me and I got in, him going in the drivers seat and we drove off to Jungkook’s house.

———————————————————————————

We arrived, Going inside and saw everyone in the living room, looking directly at me. “So this is the shit you dragged me over here for!?” I yelled at Hoseok, making him sigh, rubbing my shoulder. “Wow you really got her over here?” “It’s called having patience” Hoseok responded to Jin, before offering me a chair in the spacious living room. But I denied, still over the edge. “Y/n cmon” I huffed, sitting down with him behind me.

“Ok so!? MEETING! YAY! I was totally looking forward to this especially since a girl had some awesome plans tonight but I was RUDELY interrupted by this shit” I snapped, fake smiling at my ‘so called’ friends. “What plans?” I looked at Jungkook who appeared out the kitchen, shirtless. “None of your business” he huffed, sitting down on the couch. “You guys need to talk. It’s going on week 2 and it should not be like this” “Oh ask the bitch who went to the fucking club!” “Y/n what did i tell you about using that language?” “JUNGKOOK SHUT THE HELL UP!” I yelled at him, rolling my eyes as I ran my hands through my hair.

“Ya’ll don’t realize that I am PISSED right now and i’m tired of you always thinking that I have to fix things WHEN I DONT HAVE TO FIX SHIT! This is his business and this is his problem to fix - you will not force me to do anything!” I yelled at them, getting up but Hoseok sat me back down, calming me down. “Y/n it’s not like that-“ “Oh shut up Yoongi because you were there AND DIDNT EVEN STOP HIM!” I yelled at Yoongi, tears almost breaking from my eyes.

“Hoseok drive me back now” “Y/n-“ “NOW!” I yelled, a tear escaping from my eye as I stood and looked towards Hoseok. He sighed, pulling me close into his tight embrace as I poured my tears into his chest. “You guys should know better” Hoseok said softly to the others, walking me out the house and to the car. “It’s ok, it’s alright I’ll call Irene” He put me in the car and he got in the drivers and the car had called Irene.

“Hello? Hobi?” “Pick up y/n please” “I gotchu” She responded, hanging up before we drove back to my house. He held my hand the whole way as uncontrollable tears fell out of my eyes. I felt his grip tighten around my hand every time I would let out a sob or a sniff. At this point I don’t know what’s gonna happen…i’m scared, actually.

Jungkook’s POV | His house

We all sat there, frustrated and sad as i ran my hands through my hair. “We fucked up” “YOU THINK!?” I yelled out at Taehyung’s response, standing up as I tugged my long black hair. “We can fix this - he probably called Irene and-“ someone phone rang, and it was mine. I picked it up and saw Hoseok’s contact. “Hello?” “I called Irene to pick up Y/n for a minute, this is your chance to make shit work if you wanna fix things between the two” his voice echoed to all of us, making eveyrone look at me.

“What-“ “I secretly grabbed your spare key to her house and I put in on the table next to you,” I looked at the table and saw the key making me smile secretly. “You have like - an hour or two to do whatever. I’m giving you a chance and this would probably be your last before hell breaks apart. Make it happen Jungkook” He hung up and all eyes were on me. “Go. Now” Jennie said, and I grabbed my things and the key before going out the the garage and drove off to her house.

As I drove I thought about her the whole way. I looked at my car and saw Y/n on the big screen pad that was planted in the middle. I smiled, picking up my speed to make it towards her house. I hope what I have in mind, turns out to be the best for us.

Your POV | 10 pm

“Oh wow, I had a great time” “Of course! That’s what I do! Here are your shopping bags, make sure to tag me” we laughed as she walked me towards my door. “Wait…the lights are on?” She smiled, stroking my hair and hugged me once more before walking back to her car and drove off. I furrowed my eyebrow, opening my door and closing it before stomping towards where the light was coming from.

The kitchen?

I furrowed my eyebrows again and went towards it and saw food. Lots of food. I blinked, seeing a tall man figure washing his dishes. He turned around, setting a plate of food on the table and looked at me. I held back my tears, staring into his apologetic eyes. “What..Jungkook-“ “I um..cooked your favorite foods” He said, keeping his eyes on me. A tear escaped my eye as I set my shopping bags down.

“How?” “Hoseok gave me a key and..told me to make it happen” I sobbed, going towards him and he hugged me tightly as I jumped in his arms, holding me tight as he dug his face in my neck. “I’m sorry, i’m sorry please” “Shh it’s ok, it’s ok” I soothed the back of his neck as i heard his sniffles. “Don’t leave, please don’t leave I need you. You’re everything to me” “I’m not going nowhere” he held me tighter, not letting go as I kept him place.

We hugged for a moment, embracing each other’s presence as I kissed his head gently. “I missed you” he whispered, connecting our foreheads together as our hands intertwined tightly. “Yea..me too” “I’m sorry. I - it won’t happen again I promise” I hummed, my eyes falling towards the food on the table. “You cooked that?” “Of course I cooked it” we laughed as we looked at each other. “I missed you…everything. I’ve been away from you for 2 weeks - how am I still here?” I smiled, feeling his lips land on mine making me respond to the action.

We kissed until we got rough with each other, his hands feeling all over me and picked me up. He made it to the long couch, putting me on it as he hovered over me. I felt the aching cock, grinding and aching for friction on my desperate hood. “Fuck, I can’t wait” He unzipped the dress, taking it off and ripped the lacy panties I had on. “Ok ok Jungkook listen-“ he didn’t listen. Instead, he sucked me out hungrily, lapping his tongue in between my folds and clit, moaning desperately and sucking with hunger in his eyes.

“Mmh fuck, kook” “Fuck i missed her, I missed her so much i missed this pussy, this fucking pussy” I whined at he sucked with need, and hunger. His tongue flicked on top of my clit, messing with the bud making my hands grip the the couch below me at the unbearable pleasure I was receiving. “I feel like - fuck, i’m getting close” “Come for my baby girl” my eyes shut tight as my high catches up to me. And I came all over his mouth, feeling him moan and sucking all of my juices.

“Fuck, my good girl” He sucked out everything before standing up and taking off his sweats and boxers. “Come here” he sat down and I went to him, stroking it before taking the big thing in my mouth. He hissed, groaning quietly as I sucked his member slowly, but hard enough to get him squirming a little. “Fuckkk that mouth is amazing - that fucking mouth is amazing you sucking me like that? Hm like a fucking bitch?” He thrusted his hips upward, making me moan around him. “Ooh yeaaa she likes that, she likes that nasty shit doesn’t she” he put my head all the way down and thrusted his hips upward, fucking his cock up in my mouth.

“Fuck fuck fuck - shit suck that cock. Suck that shit wanna be a bitch and make me cum huh? Fucking bitch you are looking at you” his hand placement on my jaw was pretty strong, but it was so hot..I was close already.

Yes this whole time i was touching myself.

“Shit - oooh someone’s touching themselves? She’s such a slut she couldn’t take her hand off her pussy huh? She’s so horny, you’re getting turned on by this i know you are” I whined and moaned around his cock as his words made my pussy throb even more. I wasn’t gonna last. “Mmh daddy” I muffled out, whining as my fingers went in and out of my pussy faster. “You wanna cum baby? You wanna make daddy cum and cum on your fingers? Dirty bitch” I moaned again, feeling his hips quicken the pace and so did my fingers.

“Yea yea yea yea yea - i’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum fuck” He soon came down my throat which sent me moaning like crazy, and I soon came all over my fingers. I shuddered at the orgasm, my eyes fluttering shut as I continued to suck hm off and all the cum that came with it. “Ooh there you go” I couldn’t stop moaning, this man really has me in a chokehold. I took the cock out, breaking heavily as i stared at the still hard cock standing tall.

“You’re…jungkook” “You already know” I huffed, slowly standing and straddled him as i felt his XL hands roam up and down my submissive body as he bucked his hips up for the tip to touch the entrance of my pussy. I hummed, sinking down on the hard rock cock of his as he hissed at the warm feeling. “Ooouu shit that pussy wet. It’s wet isn’t it” I sunk down all the way, moaning as i rolled my hips around. “Fuck..you got bigger didn’t you” “someone’s noticed. Now ride that new dick like you mean it” i bounced up and down, my moans immediately filling the room we were in as my pace quickened by the minute.

“Fuck! This feels too good - i can’t” “yes you can you gon ride that dick till i say it’s time for you to stop” he slapped my ass making me shriek at the action. My pleasures rose, the heart beating with a quickness, and my pussy…wetter then over. “Daddy..i can’t, i’m gonna cum soon” “That’s what i love to hear” he bucked up into me, fucking up with an unhuman speed making my mouth open and my eyes roll at the back of my head as he fucked me with no mercy. “FUCKING HELL - JUNGKOOK!” “Shut up” he grabbed my throat, moving me any kind of way as he still continued to fuck up inside me.

“I’m gonna cum! Daddy make me cum daddy please” “You wanna cum on that cock, gon head baby cum for daddy. Bust a nut bitch” my eyes shut tight at his words and I came all over his cock, slicking it as i heard his chuckles as a reaction. “Fuck, extra wet. Guess we ain’t need lube after all” he put me on my stomach on the remainder of the couch, putting my ass up in the air with the dick still inside me.

“W-Wait i just came jungkook hold on - FUCK!” he vigorously fucked into me, slapping my ass or any skin he came in contact with as he fucked me with everything in him. “Fuck that pussy so good. So fucking good clenching on me like that, you holdin on aren’t you not letting me go. You not letting that dick go baby?” I moaned, grabbing everything and anything i could reach my hands too as his dick continued to go in and out inside of me. It was too much..he was definitely messing me up.

“Fuck im finna cum, i’m finna cum in that pussy you want me to cum in that pussy? Hm? You want me to cum in that pussy? You gon let me?” He grabbed my hair and tilt my head all the way back, my eyes meeting his sexy dark ones. “Y—Yes come in me. Come in my pussy daddy fill me up. I want you to fill me daddy please!” i gargled, my throat dry as ever as his pace quickened. “Fuck keep lookin at me like that you gon make me cum. Fuck….i’m cummin” “Wait - wait daddy i’m close” “Cum with me baby cum with daddy feel me fill up that tight little pussy huh, you want me to fill up that tight little pussy - shit i’m cummin” My moans got louder as his pace quickened once more then we both came, me squirting and him fucking his cum inside me.

“Good girl, feel that shit you nasty. You nasty huh” i moaned and whimpered at the still tight grip on my hair as i felt broke and drained. “Fuck, you ok?” i hummed, my eyes fluttering shut at the intense sex we had. I felt his kisses on my shoulder blades and back. “You want some food?” i nodded, laying lifeless on the couch as i continued to receive Jungkook’s sweet and gentle kisses.

Minutes later while i’m still laying lifeless on the couch, he put me in a shirt and a movie and fixed us some plates. He came to me as i sat up on the couch with my legs crossed. He handed me my food ever so innocently making me scoff and both of laugh at the action as he sat beside me scooting me closer. “I wonder what the others are thinking” i chuckled making him chuckle as well. “Well i probably have an idea” i looked at him, both smirking at each other.

“You’ve succeeded”

#bts smut #jungkook #kpop smut #21+ only #hoseok #namjoon #yoongi #jungkook smut #taehyung #yn #jin #jiminbts #blackpink #irene

[sideeve]

can you do a miles e42 fix based off of broken clocks by sza

U LUV ME | with 42!miles

— it’s been 3 years since you’ve dated him. why he still talking about you like you together ? i’m not officially back but i just LOVE this concept. and i love sza🤭 ex!miles, both characters are like 17-18, reader has a younger sister, simp!miles fr, reader is still in love with miles but is stubborn, probably makes no sense whatsoever

“ma,” miles kneeled in front of you. “i’ll do anything to win you back. swear. i’ll drop the prowler job. anything.” his hands were wrapped around your legs as he begged for you to take him back.

“you swear?” you pull him up, he now towers over you. “swear.” his lip inch closer to yours “i lo—”

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!” your sister, nicknamed yaya, repeatedly hits you in the face with a pillow. “damn. i’m up, i’m up.” you sit up as she hits your back.

you grab the pillow, throwing it in her face. “i said i’m up.” “mama said you better be ready in 10 minutes or you’re gonna have to find another ride to work.”

you turn your head, looking at the clock.

it read 9:45.

shittt.

“get out so i can get dressed.”

*time skip*

you had barely made it in time for work. “hi, welcome to [ insert favorite cafe ], how can i—get out.” your voice was quickly filled with hatred. “chill, ma. i just wanted coffee.” the boy laughs. “not from here. go.”

you refused to serve him. you knew what was to come next.

“i miss you.”

“my mom won’t stop talking about you.” know well it was just him ranting about how he wanted you back.

“i want—”

“you want a caramel frappe, no whipped cream, a chocolate chip, warmed. i remember.” you deadpan. “i want something else.” your brows raise in shock, “so you have changed.”

“you.”

you groan. you bit your tongue, trying so hard not to yell at him to get out of your store. “i take that back.”

after completing his order, you slid him the drink and cookie, “that’ll be 12.65. cash or card?” he slid you a 50. “keep the change.” he walked off, sipping his newly made drink.

*time skip to the next day*

the day before was stressful. you had karens upset bc you didn’t give them a drink at 75 degree exact, too many customers, not enough staff. it was a miracle you made it out alive.

your sleep once you got home was well deserved. it was peaceful.

until the next morning. your phone was blown up by your best friend trying to get your attention.

[ name ] ! when did u and miles get back together ?

[ name ] girl wake the fuck up.

i know you see these messages. don’t make me come to your house.

answer me hoe😡

you quickly unlock your phone,

“tf r u talking abt?”

he posted on his private story. sum abt “when you two talk it out and cuddle” some shit like that. the caption had you name on it

your head hangs low when they sent the screenshot.

this motherfucker is really delusional.

“we never got back together. tf is he on?”

you threw on some clothes, storming your way to miles’ house.

you knew his mother had work at this time so you have no mercy to his front door. “miles, open this fucking door. imma kick it down.” your tone let him know you were pissed. he opens the door, “what are you mad about ma?”

you raise your phone at his face. “what is this?” he leans back, getting a good look at it. “oh, i was letting people know you’re mine.” you tilt your head, eyes squinted. “are you fucking crazy? what part of “we’re broken up” do you not understand? we ain’t together. end of story.”

he laughs, making you more upset. “that’s what you think. why do you think no one has asked you out yet?” he smirks. “because they know that you’re mine. anybody who wants you gotta go through me first. and you and me both know that’s not gonna end well.” he snickers.

“miles—” “i’m not done.” he cuts you off. “look, i know me being the prowler affected our relationship. but i’m done with that. completely. i’m focused on you right now. i’m tryna do better for you.” he suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“i’m yours.”

you smirk at him. “and how do i know you don’t have any hoes in your phone right now?” “be reasonable right now.” he smile drops, his nostrils flaring. “okay, i was joking.” you laugh.

“so, what’s this mean ma?” you purse your lips, “i guess we can get back together.” he grins, pulling you closer. “you don’t know how much i missed you. and this ass—” his hands squeeze your ass before you smack his hands away.

“i can always change my mind, miles.” “okay, i was just kidding.”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales #prowler miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction

[seokjinsonlyone]

How do you think each of the members are like as a best friend? I'm curious as to your take. You always somehow get them spot on.

a/n: first of all,,, thank you!!! second idk if this is what you was looking for but it turned out to be a luh calm mini headcanon,,, lemme know what u think 🫢

namjoon:

wants to hang out 24/7; always tries to make you be friends with his other friends so he can have one huge super group of friends to hang out with all the time

lowkey your biggest opp; like you’ll be having a heart to heart ranting about your life and what’s going on and “why is it always me? 😩” and then he’ll read you for filth detailing exactly why whatever’s happening is happening and what you need to do to fix it; and you sitting there like 🤥 because you was just tryna complain

perpetually busy but will literally drop whatever he’s doing the second you say you need him

seokjin:

people wonder if y’all are even friends because all you do is bicker because neither of you can fight the urge to play devil’s advocate on every single subject

the type to be the brother you never wanted; always tryna scare your boo things away; loves either going to your family home or having you at his; randomly puts you in headlocks to assert dominance; posts awful 0.5 pics of you on his close friends story

he may play with you but he don’t play about you; he can be mean to you because he loves you but it’s a no for everyone else; 100% not afraid to check someone who say something slick about you

yoongi:

likes to buy you random gifts in lieu of actually expressing affection

takes pride in being your bestie; if anyone else claims to be your best friend he’s gonna look at them funny and give them some push back; goes to you later on to confirm that He is in fact your best friend as if you’re not allowed to have more than one

regardless of whether it’s his cup of tea or not when you want to do something with him he always goes along with it

hoseok:

sends or tags you in every single video he finds even slightly amusing and expects you to react to them all; (bonus) you’d definitely make one of those muni long made for me videos

the one you call when you’re bored at work and y’all stay on the phone yapping for the rest of your shift

your shopping buddy!; sometimes you’ll both order a stuff online or maybe you’ll go thrifting or to target or something and then go back to his place and do a lil fashion show with all the stuff you bought

jimin:

would have the type of relationship with you that makes prospective partners suspicious because y’all are too close; it’s not your fault that people don’t understand y’all soul ties!!

the devil on your shoulder at all times; he’s the one you go to when you want validation to do something you know you shouldn’t do

whatever someone tells jimin they sign up to telling you too; you’re a package deal <3; there’s an actual tea party that takes place once a month that’s dedicated to spilling tea

taehyung:

the type to stick beside you no matter what; doesn’t matter how wrong you are no one gon ever catch him on anyone else’s side

has an uncanny ability to talk you into his harebrained schemes so you’re always getting into escapades and shenanigans

follows you on spotify to monitor and critique what you’re listening to; you’ll get random screenshots of what you’re listening to and what he thinks you should be listening to; never admits when you put him on to an artist or song

jungkook:

a fellow dnd warrior; may not have your back immediately but he will always have it eventually

you speak in terms of tiktok audios and obscure references of things that happen in your day to day life that were unreal

y’all will agree to go on a diet together and then proceed to watch mukbang/cooking videos for 3 hours and end up breaking the diet within a day of starting it

#ask #ask of interest #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts headcanons #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fluff #yoongi x reader #hoseok fic #jimin fanfiction #taehyung x you #jungkook fanfic

[astrophileous]

currently i just keep thinking of derek talking to little bug while bug is still pregnant and bug thinking it's hilarious but also adorable

OMFG yesss hear me out, I personally think derek persuades bug to move in with him as soon as she comes out of the hospital because her place is trashed during the investigation of her kidnapping (at least that was the excuse derek gave, even tho everyone knows he just wants her around 24/7) and since THAT FIRST NIGHT he's been doing this

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You awoke to the sound of gentle whispers against your stomach.

This wasn't the first time that it had happened. You had been waking up in the middle of the night to Derek murmuring things to your belly. The first time it occurred, you kept your eyes shut throughout the whole thing, discreetly listening to the conversation Derek was having with the baby. At first, you thought the whole ordeal was a one-time occurrence, until it had happened again the next night, and the next night, and the next night after that.

This time, it was no different.

"Hey, Little Bug," Derek said softly. "Just checking in. How ya doin'?"

You clenched your jaw to keep the laughter at bay.

Waves of cool air from the AC flowed against the skin of your abdomen, courtesy of Derek rolling your night shirt up to expose the bump that had grown even bigger in the last couple of weeks. You could feel his large hands cupping your belly, seemingly trying to coax a movement from the baby despite Spencer previously telling him that he wouldn't feel anything for at least another month.

"I'm just making sure you're doing okay in there," Derek continued. "Now, I know you've been through a lot for such a small bug, and I know it wasn't easy what you've gone through. But I just wanna say how proud I am that you held your ground through it all."

Your heart stirred at Derek's statement.

"Stay strong and healthy in there, Little Bug. Just gotta hang on there for a few more months and you'll be out in the world. Once you're here, I promise, you won't need to fight for anything else 'cause I'll do that for you. There's a whole lotta people here who can't wait to meet you. Me and your Mama, we can't wait to meet you. So you hang on tight, alright?"

Derek peppered dozens of tiny kisses on your belly. The scracthy sensation of his stubble made your abdomen constrict involuntarily.

"You know," Derek's voice suddenly erupted, "it's rude to eavesdrop in a private conversation."

You opened your eyes to see Derek staring mischievously right at you.

"As long as this baby is still inside of me, privacy is sadly a privilege you can't have, Derek."

Your reply earned an impish grin from him.

"You hear that, Little Bug? That's your Mama for you. A very sneaky--"

"Hey!"

"--impatient--"

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"--and hot-headed woman. But God, if she isn't the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

A stealthy smile slipped onto your lips. "You're trying to sweet talk me, Derek?"

"I'm tryna teach our child to appreciate their Mama's beauty." Derek grinned.

Unable to resist the flutters in your stomach anymore, you pulled Derek closer with the collar of his T-shirt before connecting your lips in a deep kiss. His hand creeped up your waist with a touch that burned your body to its core. When the two of you finally pulled apart for air, the fire you saw inside Derek's eyes was unmistakable.

"Hey, Little Bug," Derek said, bending himself down so he was leveled with your belly once more. "I'll get back to you in a sec, yeah? Me and your Mama got some important business to attend to."

#derek morgan #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #dad derek morgan #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #shemar moore #love bugs

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

[Brodie flicked through the mail, instantly recognising the scrawling handwriting of a certain redheaded little boy. Scaring a few birds in the process, he bellowed up the stairs: ALEEEEX!] Alex: [breathless] Is it for me?! Brodie: Nah, but I could do with some help carrying this super heavy envelope upstairs. Alex: Who do you think you are, Johnny Zest? Brodie: I’m better than that guy, c’mon…

… Hi Alex! Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to you, I promise I didn’t forget! I guess I just didn’t really know what to say cos I’ve sorta not felt like myself recently. My mom says I disappear into my own world sometimes so I sorta did that again and found it hard to think of anything fun to say. I don’t think I’d mind if you wrote to me about the less fun parts of your life though n’ my dad says you shouldn’t really keep everything to yourself all the time cos it ends up hurting so I thought I’d write anyway n’ just force myself not to worry about being boring or whatever. Your letters and your life always sound so exciting compared to mine though so sometimes it’s hard not to!!

I got in a fight at school which sounds like it should be an exciting story, but it wasn’t really. There’s this kid called Levi in my class that always picks on me (don’t worry though, I don’t care about that) and I couldn’t be bothered listening to him anymore so I hit him a couple times, I thought he’d hit me back but he just freaked out so I sorta felt bad about it afterward. He still makes fun of me but he doesn’t get up in my face as much so that’s a plus. Who says violence doesn’t solve anything? Hahaha I’m kidding! It wasn’t nice of me but maybe he should know better than to push people around so much.

I’m looking forward to summer so I can wander off a bit more and maybe it won’t rain so much! My mom doesn’t really like it when I go too far but as long as I’m back before curfew she tries not to freak out about it which is nice of her cos she knows I like to explore n’ stuff. I shouldn’t complain about my family cos I love them n’ stuff but I like being on my own sometimes and it’d be nice to have a bit of peace now n’ then. I’ve got SUPER good hearing so it’s hard to find anywhere quiet in my house, especially cos there’s always something crazy going on. My aunt Alma is sorta similar to me so she’s been helping me block out the noise with this meditation sorta thing, I guess it’s hard to explain but it’s not as lame as it sounds, it’s kinda fun to see how long you can stay in your own brain without people interrupting you. That probably sounds really weird but maybe you sorta get what I mean?

I finally have a treehouse now too!! It reminds me of your watchtower in some ways, but I guess it’s no way cooler than that, even though I know you’re bored of it by now. I wish we could hang out in it together cos it’s super awesome! Mom n’ dad don’t really bother me when I’m up there n’ my brother n’ sisters can’t manage the ladder yet so it’s all mine! It’s right at the bottom of the garden and looks out over the whole Bay too! Mom said she might let me sleep in it once it gets a bit warmer! It’d be cool falling asleep to the sound of the waves.. I hope it doesn’t end up making me need to pee all night though haha!!

Wren’s been obsessed with watching me play on the computer recently and I keep tryna teach her how to play herself but her little fingers can’t really reach all the buttons on the keyboard too well and she gets stupid mad when she dies so she just makes me play instead. She’d kick me if I told anyone but she’s a bit scared of some of the monsters too lol!! Mom told me I shouldn’t let her watch those ones but they’re the only ones she WANTS to watch and she jumps all over me until I give in so idk what they expect me to do other than lock her in the pantry, but I got told off for that so I guess I shouldn’t do that again haha (Wren thought it was funny though so it’s all good!) It’s a shame you don’t have a computer in the tower otherwise we could play together! Jude n’ Jacob aren’t really into that sorta thing so I usually just play on my own. Do you have a computer back home??

Oh! I got another badge for my swimming lessons too! I’ve almost got em all now which is neat but I sorta wanna avoid getting the last ones cos anyone that gets them all or has good attendance n’ whatever get an award at the end of the school year. They save em all up to give out at some stupid last year disco thing they put on before summer for the last year kids n’ it’d be so cringe to get called out in front of everyone like that. Some people think it’s gonna be amazing like my friend Jude, but I’d rather not go at all. Mom n’ dad keep saying it’ll be fun n’ everyone else is excited about it too but how fun could something be if you’re technically at SCHOOL? Bleh! I know you said you hate it sometimes, but being homeschooled sounds awesome to me lol.

I keep tryna bug my parents to go camping again so we could maybe see each other but they won’t take me out of school for a holiday n’ dad’s too busy with some work project so I guess we’ll have to keep writing to each other instead! Maybe if I keep annoying them about it we can come back in the summer! I hope so anyway but I guess I don’t wanna piss em off TOO much just in case my plan backfires or something.

I still feel really bad about not writing sooner but my dad said better late than never so hopefully you’re not too upset with me! I’ll try my best to write faster next time so you don’t have to wait as long. I’m looking forward to hearing about everything you’ve been up to!! Love Robin c: ps. my dad’s friend finally helped me fix that old polaroid so I’ve sent you some random pictures I took to test it out! I’m still getting used to it but the next ones will be better, I swear!

… the treehouse! it even has cool lights on it!! the back of our house! it’s so big it’s hard to fit in a picture.. it sorta looks fancy but it’s not really n’ dad said it was cheap cos it was a shithole a rare Byrd! (grumpy too – dad tried to take his dummy off him lol) he’s not supposed to be on my bed… the Bay! Jude says I sound girly for saying it’s so pretty here but I don’t care I could take a million pictures of this place n’ never get bored (I’ll stop now though cos mom says these polaroid things aren’t cheap for this model.. oops lol!!)

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #alexandra sampson #brodie sampson #robin finch #IN SPIRIT #sdkjdk #he finally wrote baaaack 🤸‍♀️ #i love his letters sm #and alex's #but i don't wanna write a million of em lmao #let's just assume they're gonna resume writing to one another fervently from now on ok? #cos we're gonna leave these guys n robin be for a while #let robin work on his 'meditation' in peace n all that #maybe check in on some other folk 👀 #might take a lil break first tho idk #only a tiny one probs #q'ing this like.. a week ago so who knows #been super busy training at work recently n with life so hooooo boy #x.x #NEWAY #<333 #ily guys

[garoujo]

LET ME TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE — TOKYO REVENGERS

feat : sano manjiro, ryuguji ken, hanma shuji, haitani rindou, ( akashi ) sanzu haruchiyo + sano shinichiro.

♱ warnings — f!reader, bike sex, exhibitionism, idk if motorcycles are actually this sturdy but if they aren’t let’s just lie okay :3 creampies, fingering / cunninglingus in sanzu’s, shinichiro fucks you on someone else’s bike, smoking in hanma’s, cockwarming in rindou’s.

♱ note — a lil bonus shin hc in here cause the idea came to me v suddenly akhajaka so consider it a fank yew for u guys putting up w me < 3

・✶ ｡ﾟSANO MANJIRO / MIKEY

as far as mikey was concerned he could fuck you wherever he wanted in his city, why should he have to resist you when he can feel the way your pretty tits are pressed against his back, even through the thick material of his gang uniform. wordlessly pulling over before he’s shooting you a look that has your thighs already squeezing around the cool metal underneath you.

“m-mikey, ah!” you gasp as mikey pushes himself against you, caging you between his chest and the cool body of his motorcycle behind you. “what? does ‘t feel good?” he breathes, but there’s a dreamy lull to his tone when his lips curl slightly against the crook of your neck and he sinks into your pussy. your nails are digging into the plush leather of the seat as a means to ground yourself when he leans the weight of his hips against yours, the blunt head of his cock pushing up against the swollen spots inside of you before his hips are drawing back and he sighs.

he’s still fully dressed except from where he’s pulled his cock out his pants, long coat hanging over his shoulders and the only thing keeping it from falling off is the way your free hand is twisting into the fabric — keeping mikey close as he begins a pace that has you jolting against his motorcycle, every smack of his hips echoing around the darkened dock. “hnnn—you’re so tight.” mikey gulps, letting his slender fingers trace between your bodies to roll your clit in sticky circles, panting and growling against your jaw when your pussy tightens around him in time with each flick of his wrist.

“w-we could’ve waited until we got home, mikey.” you whine, but your hips still grind up to meet his as his brows furrow, feeling him push his cock up against something sensitive inside of you until your breath is skipping, pussy clenching right around him everytime he rocks forward and mikey thinks he could watch your lustful expression under the dim streetlights every fucking day. “yeah, then you shouldn’t have looked so pretty.”

・✶ ｡ﾟRYUGUJI KEN / DRAKEN

it was so easy to rile draken up, even though he knew exactly what you were doing when he felt your fingers trail down his toned abdomen — grazing along the bulge of his cock at every fucking red light so you can see the way his jaw clenches, before he’s cursing and pulling into some random alleyway with a pretty frown and a hard cock since you can’t fucking wait.

“this what you fuckin’ needed, princess? you tryna fuckin’ kill us? s-shit—“ draken’s trying to sound angry but you can barely hear anything he’s saying with how well he’s filling you, keeping you pressed over the metal handlebars of his bike as he fucks into you, each thrust heavy and clapping and driven by the strength in his huge body and there’s a burning hot rush of blood under your skin where you feel his thick fingers grip at the swell of your ass.

“need to quit spoilin’ you, ‘s that it?” there’s a carnal drop in draken’s tone, one that vibrates through his chest but despite that there’s no real weight to his words, because you know you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty finger — only having to send him a doe-eyed look to have him bullying his thick cock into your pretty pussy. you moan brokenly into the darkened alleyway and you hear your boyfriend hiss with another wet withdrawal of his hips. “keep quiet, princess. shit, hhnn—gonna get us fuckin’ caught.”

you can barely breath with how deep draken feels like he reaches, your fingertips curling along the steel handlebars as another languid moan of his name kicks at your throat, your desperate attempts at being quiet melting away with every harsh smack of his hips against yours. your body feels like it’s crumbling under each of his thrusts, and your pretty sure even the heavy motorcycle beneath you is jolting as he splits you open on his cock, grunting long and low when he leans over you to twist your face towards his for a kiss. “‘f you’re not gonna be quiet then let me feel you cum, princess.”

・✶ ｡ﾟHANMA SHUJI

you knew it was coming, you could basically see the arousal that radiated out of shuji when he turned round to face you at every red light, letting his fingertips trail up your thighs before he was pulling you in for messy, quick kisses. there was nothing more thrilling to him than being able to bend you over his bike whenever he wanted, plus.. he’d break the teeth of any bastard that tried to tell him he couldn’t.

shuji’s amber eyes are hooded when he looks at you, black ink of sin visible when he takes the last long draw of the cigarette that’s hanging from his smirking lips, before he’s flicking it to the side and pressing deep into your body, helping you bounce on his lap as he sinks back against the obnoxious print of his bike seat. “look at you, baby. fuck sake, ‘s pussy’s always so fuckin’ ready for me, yeah?” he goads, sending you a teasing look before he snaps his hips into yours, the rough rhythm of his cock making you twitch and pulling a low groan from his lips before it breaks into a breathless chuckle.

it’s almost unfair the quick pace hanma takes as he fucks you, his thick cock digging up inside of your pussy until you’re trembling and twisting into him, heels digging into the steel of his bike as he works your hips to meet the encouraging pull of his huge hands from where they’re massaging at your skin. you feel his teeth nip playfully at your jawline before his lips are gliding along the spots after, cunt baring down around his cock tight as you gasp and he slows to a teasing grind.

“shuji—hnnn, please!” you whine, whispery and choked off as he rolls his hips into yours — pushing up against the spots that makes your hips tremble aswell as your lungs with your next inhale, but he knows you need more. “hmm?” he smirks, feigning obliviousness but there’s a playful glint in the amber that’s jumping from the sight of your glistening cunt to your pretty face. “use your words, doll, or else. you wanna cum, right?” hanma drawls, scratchy and growly as he lets his fingers trace along your skin to roll your puffy clit, just as he grazes along the right spot inside of you that he knows will make you cum — but he can’t deny that the pleasured tears gathering in your lashes make him fucking throb. “wanna cum.” you finally answer and lightning feels like it sparks in your body with the first too deep kiss of hanma’s cock that immediately follows. “oh? that’s more like it, baby—fuckin’ shit. don’t hold back on me, now.”

・✶ ｡ﾟHAITANI RINDOU

rindou was such a tease so the amount of times he’d fucked you on his bike had all been of his own doing, he loved the feeling of your chest being pressed against his back but he also loved the feeling of your pussy squeezing around his cock, chest to chest as you both bask in the city lights. but he couldn’t get enough of how pretty you looked when you squirmed for more.

“so fuckin’ needy, princess.” rindou goads from where he’s got you sat infront of him — chest to chest on his bike and your thighs hooked around his hips, your pretty pussy spread eagerly around his thick cock underneath your skirt. he knows he’s going to fuck you, but he loves the needy little humps you make as you beg for some friction, and the way your wide-eyes blink up at him everytime he revs the engine of his bike — making his cock graze along the swollen spots inside of you when it jumps underneath you both, pushing him deeper.

you whimper when you feel rindou’s fingers tighten around your jaw, urging you to meet his lilac gaze from where he’s watching you from underneath his dyed bangs — pulling you in for a kiss that’s a little messy and accompanied by his hips rocking into yours languidly, swallowing the needy mewls that fall from your lips at the sudden stimulation. “don’t fall apart on me yet, doll.” he groans, but he fills you so well at this angle you can only whine into the kiss, moving your mouth along his while you twitch around him.

“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” rindou slurs, the hand that was hooked around the handlebars of his bike grabbing onto your hips before he’s pulling you closer. his heavy balls pressing flush against your ass at this angle and you feel his heavy cock twitch and throb when your pussy clenches around him. you pull a growl from your lilac haired boyfriend before he’s moving to press you down against the cool steel beneath you both with a dangerous smirk, one that only tugs wider when he pushes deeper into your cunt. “damn, baby. this what you meant when you said you wanted to go for a ride?”

・✶ ｡ﾟ SANZU HARUCHIYO

it was so obvious the effect you had on sanzu, almost embarrassingly so considering how crazed and unhinged he seemed to everybody else. so it was even more charming to watch him fall apart at the seams so easily, deliberately pushing yourself to breathe along the back of his neck while you squeeze your arms around his waist as he drives you through the city.

“told you to sit still angel.” sanzu whispers, holding your hips down from where he’s got your lower back pressed along the handlebars of his pink bike as he buries his face into your pussy. you feel his fingers trace along the soft curve of your inner thighs before he’s spreading you lewdly, his lips curling into a smirk when he drags his tongue along your swollen clit just to feel the way you push up against him, greedy for more of his mouth and he feels his cock strain against his slacks at the feeling.

his fingers grab and dig into the aching flesh of your ass as he rocks you against him, his chin and scarred cheeks wet with a mixture of your slick and his spit, as another low sound cracks from his throat when he pushes his tongue into your twitching walls. the way sanzu eats you out is so eager, hearing him swallow and slurp at the cream his tongue pushes out of your pussy before he’s curling it against your clit, and you feel your toes curl from where your legs are thrown over his shoulders as you twist your hands in his hair — rocking yourself against his greedy ministrations as you feel his tongue drag over your slit.

“so fuckin’ pretty. kill any bastard who thinks they can see you like this, ‘ts only for me.” you know he’s talking about if anyone happens to round the corner of the quiet street he’s parked up in, but you doubt either of you would even notice with how dizzy you feel — his words vibrating against your pussy as a mixture of euphoria and bliss rolls down your spine. sanzu’s tongue splits down your folds to taste the slick that’s gathered there, dragging it back up to your clit before he’s closing his lips around the bud and suckling languidly, making you throw your head back and push yourself tight against the uncomfortable metal below you. “gonna cum all over my fuckin’ bike, angel? don’t hold back on me.”

・✶ ｡ﾟSANO SHINICHIRO

he’d never been able to resist you, his will power was basically non existent — especially when you’re sitting in his shop while he works on a bike, swaying your hips and sending him a pretty smile everytime you hand him a tool, and even just the slight brush of your fingertips against shin’s has him cock twitching as he shoots you a drowsy look. “cmeer, baby. need somethin’”

the sweet, needy little moan that leaves your lips makes shinichiro’s cock throb before he’s picking up a pace that’s a little faster, desperate as he loses himself in each squeeze of your walls around his cock. “fuck, jus’ like that, baby.” it’s late, he’s in the back shop and thankfully he’s not expecting any customers because right now, his hair is mused where it hangs over his drowsy, lidded gaze and his clothes are rustled, pants unzipped under the jacket that’s wrapped around his waist as he bends his pretty girlfriend over the bike he’s been diligently working on all day, but now couldn’t care less about because of how good you feel.

“s-shin, ‘m gonna make a-ah! mess.” you gasp when you feel him press his calloused palm against the front of your thigh, pulling it up to hook it around his waist and the new position makes him feel like he reaches even deeper. “nah—’ts fine, baby. ‘ll clean it before i give ‘em it back anyway, f-fuck.” shinichiro huffs, scratchy and breathless as he leans forward to smear kisses along the back of your neck, letting his free hand trace between your bodies until he’s rolling your clit, pairing it with the back and forth stutter of his hips until he’s groaning, low and shameless when your pussy throbs around him.

“damn, y’re gonna make me c-cum, hnnn—squeezin’ real fuckin’ tight, baby.” he rasps, his brow crumbling as he pants above you and his darker bangs stick along the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. it only takes a few more twists of his wrists before he’s coaxing you into your orgasm. every thrust making you whine his name as a gooey ring of cream forms around the base of his cock and shinichiro groans at the milking compression of your walls, grabbing onto the sturdy steel bike below you both as he thickens and trembles, spilling hot inside of you with a few more shallow thrusts before he’s smearing kisses along the dip of your shoulders. “gotta clean my baby up before some bike though.”

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