Tumgik
#late valentines post i guess
bunnies-n-bowties · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
✧ So....this was supposed to be posted in February- Obviously- But oh well! I ran out of time. ✧
✧ I was thinking of what to draw for that month and then I remembered I had doodled some girls with heart shapes recently- So I went with that! They weren't succubi at first, but as I started sketching them out I just went all in- ✧
✧ Happy (super) Late Valentine's Day! ✧
20 notes · View notes
nekobami · 2 months
Text
[Valentine World AU #0||—Cupid Big Morty] literally you when you see them.✨
Tumblr media
I mean It's never too late to share LOVE, right????
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I may have too much headcannons.
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
mav-the-artist · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY
18 notes · View notes
hanniluvi · 1 year
Text
just working...working hard to please ya 😝😞
Tumblr media
9 notes · View notes
merge-conflict · 7 months
Text
domesticity
It takes all of Goro’s tenuous favor with Hanako, and more than a little of Vim’s influence, for her to approve the move. V laughs at him when he tells her, so bitterly disbelieving it breaks his heart anew. She follows him, a few feet behind, silent and suspicious all the way from the detention level to the AV bay. Inside the AV she only stares out the window, drawn to the ugly city below, longing visible in the shadows of her eyes.
Saburo-sama had once called V his pet, and as she cautiously steps through the threshold into Goro’s apartment, the metaphor is painfully apt. She removes her shoes and steps forward in a daze, shoulders hunched as though expecting an ambush. After a short circuit where she trails her hands delicately across the furniture, she settles in front of the window that serves as the far wall of the room, crossing her legs and setting her bag down beside her as she gazes out across the downtown skyline.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, when he can bear the quiet no longer. She does not acknowledge him, even when he sits to join her, struggling as she is not to start weeping. He leans in to clasp her knee before rising again. “I will make tea.”
The tea has cooled on the tray beside her before she moves, stirring from her uncharacteristic stillness to lie down on the floor in front of the window, her fingertips pressed against the cool glass. He does the calculation in his head: almost five months in that windowless high-security room. Five months since he brought her there. Two and half years since her engram was copied to servers at the heart of Arasaka tower.
2 notes · View notes
sm0lcatfish · 1 month
Text
DAY 2 - ROYALTY/KNIGHT
too far from the throne, closer to no heart
featuring 20% lore, 10% out of character, and the rest% of pointless bickering.
(sorta fantasy medieval au where prismarina is a member of a royal guard and cleo is a common thief apart of a group to overthrow the monarchy)
=+=+=+=
Pris stood at the village wall, sword against its cobblestones. She analyzed the folk, slowly dissipating from this corner of town, before turning away and briskly moving into the dark, putting her sword away as she did so. A figure leaned against the wall, and they raised an eyebrow at Pris’ approach.
“To be honest? Didn’t think you’d come.”
“Can it, Cleo.”
She was led through a broken crack in the wall, one that a good half of Prismarina’s head told and begged her to report, but she shook her head. No, her sister couldn’t find out about this.
“We’re headed to you and Scott’s camp, right?”
“Hah! No, do you think we’re that stupid?” Cleo snorted a little, “Listen, you’re cute. But I know better than to fully trust you yet. How do I know you ain’t just some crappy spy?”
“Hey, if I was a spy, which I am not to be very clear, I’d be an actually go- wait, did you call me cute-“
“Doubt you’d be anywhere near good, but whatever you say, princess.”
Pris stopped walking with a flinch, and after a few seconds Cleo noticed and turned around, originally with a smirk but she stopped upon Prismarina’s words, which were behind gritted teeth: “I’m not a princess.”
“…I don’t see why?”
“Oh, and I’d think the amount of times I chased your thieving self around town would prove I’m apart of the Royal Guard instead.”
“Well, you never caught me…” Cleo hung out their words for a second with another smile, before their face dropped to a serious one, “Okay, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean how the hell is your sister royalty, but you ain’t?”
“Do we really have to talk about my sister right now?”
“You do know me and Scott’s working to take down the queen, yeah? Of course we’re talking about her.”
“Fine, fine. I just don’t see why it’s important to this, that’s all.”
Cleo motioned for Pris to keep walking, there’s only so much time until she has to return to The Keep, and alongside that she couldn’t risk the other guards being suspicious, not so soon. Still, when she hesitated, Cleo rolled her eyes before reaching over and grabbing Pris. Not by the hand, no, they glanced over that option fairly quickly, but by the arm.
“Hey, I-!”
“Scott’s waiting for us. And you’re lucky that we’re even bringing you in on this, even giving you that little smidge of trust. Don’t waste my time.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Me? I’m the insufferable one?” Cleo’s hold got tighter, “Oh, god, okay, sure. And this is why I hate the royal bloodline.”
“I just told you, I’m not royalty.”
“I said royal bloodline, sweetheart. Still technically true.”
“And this is why I think you’re insufferable, smartass.”
“Ooooh, you swore.”
“You’ve said, like.. ten times worse.”
“But would you be saying that in the castle, hm?”
“Uh, no. My sister would kill me.”
“And that’s why you dropped out of Princess-hood, huh?”
Prismarina blinked. “What, no?”
“Then why? We still got plenty of time to waste until we get to Scott.”
“I don’t think I owe you the inner workings of the Royal Court.”
“Strong words coming from a newly crowned Rebel.”
“Oh, shut up.”
0 notes
eldritch-nightmare · 2 months
Note
Hiii!! You totally don't have to answer this but since you're going to be writing for slashers and dbd(?), I was just wondering who you're most excited to write for? Or who your favorites are? I hope you have a good day/night! I love your blog!
hi !! i hope ur having a great day or night too !!
uhhhh... that's a hard question actually lol uhm. uh. i guess the slasher i'm most excited to write is probably uhm... hang on i need to look at the rules to remember who i write for. ok!! the slasher i'm most excited to write for is either michael, billy loomis, or quinn.
but my favorite slashers are bo and like... all the women tbh. esp amanda and quinn. i am quinn's number one fan i adore her she is everything to me.
as for dbd... honestly, i'm probably most excited to write for ghostface?? i like the sound he makes when u stun him with a pallet it gave me Thoughts. also he just seems interesting to me. i like the whole double identity he had going on before the fog. and probably also the artist.
but my favorite dbd killer is the trickster. i actually had a match against him today and he was fhdjskfgsf he was really nice :( i wanted to stay behind to die for him but he angled me in a way where i was forced to leave and im still sad about that. jiwoon is like... i love him more than i love liu, y'know? like. yeah.
but survivor wise, i'm excited to write for meg nd uh.... my fave survivors r meg and yunjin and... feng, tbh. and thalita.
1 note · View note
saerins · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
─── 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 7.1k | content: fluff, making out, college!au, mentions of insecurity, only very brief angst !!, alcohol, slight jealousy
notes: this was supposed to be lengthier and in smau format but i suck at that so here it is in fic format :’) i know i know, i write sae way too much </3
summary: you have a crush on sae. for a long time now. and he’s always known that. he just wants to see how long you can hold out.
Tumblr media
HIGH SCHOOL: 2ND YEAR
itoshi sae knows you like him.
you’re really obvious it’s pathetic, really. once during recess, he’d wanted to go back to the classroom to get some shut eye because soccer was way too draining lately, and guess who he saw slipping a little love note into his locker?
of course you. you and your little pink heart-shaped post-it that read i think you’re cute and i really really like you. because it was valentines and you were one of the many to send him little scribbles of confessions.
even now, when you sit just a couple of rows in front of him, he catches you looking behind at him, and sae purposely doesn’t look at you, doesn’t let you know he knows you’re staring. he’s not really sure why. maybe he feels bad if he exposes you or something.
throughout the rest of your sophomore year in high school, he continues to observe as you so subtly (not really) try to be friends with him. you always try to get picked to be in the same group as him for projects (which never works out), you try to sit next to him in lecture halls (but his friends cockblock you always), and during phys ed classes you try so hard with soccer but you’re really quite bad at it.
maybe it’s sae not being able to continue observing your failures that he throws you a bone.
“you need to bend your knees a little more.”
frozen stiff from the unexpected company, you awkwardly try to bend your knees further, all while staring at the ground. if sae was nice, he’d laugh and joke around with you, asking why you seemed so scared of him. but he’s not, so he only sighs and stands beside you while you try.
after a few more seconds, sae understands you don’t really understand so he moves to push down on your thigh, and by then you really freeze up, falling flat on your ass in front of him.
sae wants to laugh now, really, because it’s amusing how nervous you are. for no good reason too.
the next time sae talks to you, it’s during lunch time when he queues up behind you. on purpose. he doesn’t even usually eat from this stall, but seeing you there makes him want to mess with you a little. he purposely stands a little too close, makes himself prone to an accidental bump.
which does happen. because you’re just like that.
“oh, sor—” you stop midway as if realising it’s sae immediately dissolves you of any obliged apologies. “sorry,” you force out before whipping your attention back in front. the both of you don’t talk in that moment and sae can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
but sae continues to help you during phys ed classes, and you still try to get assigned to be his group mate. nothing groundbreaking happens during sophomore year of high school because nothing is born out of it.
nothing, except maybe a tiny bit of sae’s inexplicable emotions for you.
Tumblr media
HIGH SCHOOL: SENIOR YEAR
sae thinks maybe you went to a shrine over the holidays. how else would he explain you finally getting partnered with him on a project? and to top it off, it’s a two-person team for the entire year.
you get him all to yourself.
the moment the teacher calls your name after his, it’s like sae can practically see your tail wagging. you manage to compose yourself when you catch him staring at you though.
it’s a little cute, if he’s being honest.
“so, what do you think our project should be about?” your voice wavers a little when you speak to him. is he that intimidating?
sae wonders what if he tries to be a dick during this project. would you be obedient or would you actually bite back?
he tries to find out.
sae shrugs and acts disinterested, staring out the window of the second floor of the library where you’d both agreed to meet to work on it together. “don’t know, don’t care, think you could handle it for us? i’ve got too many soccer trainings, too tired.”
for a split second, you’re taken aback—he sees you sitting upright a little more, blinking twice at him because surely that’s not what you imagined your crush to behave like. not when he has straight As and is almost the top of your cohort.
and for a while, sae thinks you might actually be the former; obediently listening to him, making sure he’s happy. but then you furrow your brows and clench your fists and go “itoshi sae, who do you think you are” and oh, oh, you’re not the former, you’re the latter and you’d actually kill him if he was a dick. fuck.
somehow his hands instinctively come up in surrender and his mouth opens, “i was just kidding.”
it’s almost comical how your expression softens up immediately and you laugh, and sae keeps staring at you because you actually have a really nice smile. he never really noticed it before. and when the two of you actually get started on the project, sae finds himself observing you more than actually contributing.
yeah, you’re really quite pretty.
“any plans for the summer?”
it’s now almost july and summer break is around the corner, and to be honest sae’s kind of bummed about it. it’s beyond him why not seeing you would make him disappointed, but he’s not going to try and pursue the reason. he has his training camps to worry about.
“soccer. you?”
“mmm, a short trip with my parents.”
usually sae would leave it at that, but he asks about you, and he sees that tail wagging again. “where?”
“just gonna go to hokkaido,” you tell him. and you look like you’re anticipating him to ask more, but sae’s stuck. he doesn’t really know what to ask. he’s not exactly curious as to what you’d be doing there.
so you take matters into your own hand when you swiftly grab his phone from the table, key in your number and call yourself from his phone before putting it right back. sae watches you the whole time, wondering when exactly you’d gotten this bold.
“there, now you can’t escape me even over summer break.”
and he doesn’t. because you text him about your trip when you’re there, you send him pictures of the scenery and of the food you’re eating and you’re really inconsiderate because you send him that shit when he’s stuck in soccer bootcamp with twenty-four sweaty guys who’s none the better than him.
sae can end it by all means, just by not responding to you, but for the first time, talking to someone isn’t really a pain, and he thinks you’re kind of funny and the stickers you send are kind of cute so he’ll let this continue. even if by continue he means sending mediocre, lacklustre responses that just barely manages to keep the conversation going.
(in sae’s mind at eighteen, sending replies like okay and i see are considered acceptable and subjectively considered effort.)
when summer break finally ends and it’s early september, sae finally sees you again while he walks to school. he walks a little faster just to catch up to you before he adjusts his pace, acts like it’s coincidence that he’s right beside you.
and somehow he’s made it a routine; to memorise what bus you get off of and catch you on the way to school. even if he sees you in classes and even after classes in the library.
you’re acting a little less like he’s on a podium and more like normal friends and he kind of likes that. he likes being able to see you unfiltered when you gossip, likes seeing you laugh at stupid lame jokes, likes the way you hang close to him whenever you’re beside him.
okay maybe like is a little stretching it, he doesn’t mind being able to tolerate it. or maybe he’s just in denial, whatever.
winter comes and it’s somehow the time when more girls try to talk to him, mainly because somehow the school decides to hold a winter event this year; it’s going to be held near the edge of the city, where the biggest skating rink is.
by his guess, most girls are looking for a guy to have a skating date with.
in the library during your usual meetup for the school project, sae gets more than a couple visitors trying to get him for that same reason. you eye everyone that approaches the table, and sae can’t help but notice how he actually likes when you’re pouty. maybe it’s his twisted thinking that jealousy means you’re still into him.
“itoshi-kun, i was thinking whether you wanted to go to the winter event together?” another girl from your class, mizuno, asks him, and sae is tired of it, frankly. but he doesn’t show it. he only looks at you, and you look back at him because he doesn’t usually stare for this long.
then, he looks at mizuno and rejects her.
“sorry, can’t, i’m going with y/n.”
(you get home that day being completely flustered and completely happy.)
on the day of the event, sae keeps his word. he goes with you, sticks beside you the entire time. his friends snap pictures of the two of you and you always look so embarrassed. maybe you’re just not used to all of this attention. but that’s fine, it’s cute.
one thing he learns about you is that you can be real clumsy sometimes. like now, when you get so excited over your watermelon slushie that you somehow spill it all over your jacket and clothes.
sae ends up giving you his puffy winter jacket while he braves the cold with whatever he has left. that’s fine, he’s strong. besides, getting to watch you wear his jacket the entire time feels like a bonus somehow.
he thinks by now you should confess already, but you don’t. you’re happy to stay in this bubble with him right now, whichever phase the two of you are at. so is he. it feels kind of nice.
feels especially nice when you hang onto him for dear life in the skating rink even though neither of you are moving. sae’s aware that people are staring holes into both of you but it’s strange how much he doesn’t mind when it’s with you. that’s why he holds his hands out, lets you take them, makes himself pull you along. he finds himself wishing neither of you were wearing gloves so he could feel how soft your hands are.
by the end of the day, everyone takes it that the both of you are together, even though the both of you are too avoidant to talk about it.
“hey, sae? thanks for today,” you say later that night when everything is done and you’d had the giddiest experience with sae. he’s walking you home and he doesn’t even know why; it’s a mystery to him why he keeps himself close whenever he can.
“it’s fine, i was the one who told people i was going with you, so.”
when he gets you to your front porch, you don’t go in immediately, standing right there with your back facing him, and sae wonders what’s going through your head. if only he could see the expression on your face right now, maybe he’d know.
you let him; because you turn around, giving him a big smile before you take a step forward and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on your heel and running into your house.
neither of you say bye, both of you are just a little too stunned to speak. sae stands out there in the cold for a little while longer, his face and ears red—he’s not even sure whether it’s from the weather or from you—but even when he starts to leave, you’re still slumped at your front door, covering your face in embarrassment, knees too weak to stand up.
there’s only one more quarter left until you graduate and sae and you both act like nothing happened that day. you still gossip unfiltered and he still listens but acts like he doesn’t.
except now instead of sitting across from you, he opts to sit directly beside you. sometimes sits a little too close just so your arms will brush against each other. sae also lets you keep his puffy jacket because you said you liked it.
you wear it throughout winter.
when graduation comes around and it’s time for sae to choose his university, he can’t help but take a peek at your screen. a smile comes to his face when he sees your first choice is the same as his. you’re smart too, he doesn’t doubt you’ll get in.
“itoshi sae, you can smile?”
sae immediately turns it into a frown. “guess not.”
you take your words back. “hey, i’m just kidding! it’s just rare… that’s all.”
so you notice him a lot then?
sure, you might not have seen him smile a lot. but that’s fine. from what sae knows, you have the entirety of your university years to possibly catch it.
Tumblr media
UNIVERSITY: FRESHMAN YEAR
of course you enter the same university as itoshi sae. it’s not on purpose, but you’re glad you both made it here anyway.
at least knowing one friendly face is better than none.
to be honest, you’re not really sure where you and sae stand. he’s never said anything about that kiss, but he also doesn’t stay away from you. can you take that as a positive thing?
if anything, he’s even closer.
somehow, his dorms and yours are practically next door. when you open your bathroom window, you can look right into his. it happened once, by accident, and you’d caught him, shirtless with just a white towel hanging around his neck, hair damp as he brushes his teeth, the droplets of water on his abs looking very inviting.
but then he caught you staring and you’ve shut your bathroom window ever since. thankfully, he never mentions it.
being in university and staying in campus meant that you were both hanging out much more informally. and you’d think that two people at the age of nineteen who’d known each other for three years would be less awkward than this but it’s you and sae and somehow there’s always an element of awkwardness.
it’s halfway into your freshman year and you’d just watched the first match that sae’s playing for the university team. you’re a little starstruck, honestly. to think that the guy you’ve always had a crush on is this good at soccer.
he’s amazing. you’re feeling like a potato sack.
“hey, you know him right?” hime gushes.
your friends are with you, so it’s natural they ask.
mira on your left sighs, “guess we have no shot with him since he’s with y/n all the time,” she says, nudging you in the elbow.
you’re starting to regret bringing them here with all the teasing. you’re also regretting coming here yourself because you see several girls running to him asking for a picture together. some of which you recognise, some of which are the popular girls.
sae doesn’t stop them from snapping what they can, but he also doesn’t stop for them at all. instead, he saunters over to you, hime and mira wordlessly disappearing to the side.
“gimme that,” sae says, gesturing to the phone in your hand. you obey, of course, and he smirks, then he snaps a selfie with you before tossing your phone back and walking off.
the pairs of eyes on you make you half-embarrassed yet half-proud. even with this many fangirls, sae chooses to come to you.
that night sae asks you to send him the picture.
yeah, maybe you can take that as a positive thing.
freshman year after that is generally uneventful. you and sae are both trying to find your footing, with him preoccupied mostly with soccer trainings while you’re drowning in assignments and projects that have nothing to do with him.
but you still see him in the mornings sometimes, when you walk past your common room and he’s in his, and you wave at him when he’s alone so you’re not so shy, and he nods in acknowledgement before he just walks away.
one night while you’re burning the midnight oil trying to cram some accounting knowledge into your brain, you get a text from sae.
wanna get supper?
both of you end up at one of the supper spots outside of school, a little cosy shop that sells boba and ramen even after midnight.
“why’d you wanna get supper?”
sae shrugs, taking a sip of his plain water. “just bored, couldn’t sleep.”
“isn’t this soccer season? you can’t even eat anything in here, it’s definitely not passable for your diet.”
he sighs, leaning back against his chair. “so? quit whining and start eating your shit already.”
if it was some other guy you’d be rolling your eyes and storming off. but it’s sae and you know him and he thinks he’s talking normally like this. besides, when you catch his eyes flicker up to lock with yours you get a little dizzy inside.
“what’re you up so late for anyway?”
sae’s fingers are drumming lightly against the surface of the metal table, teal eyes diligently observing as you bring the strands of noodle to your lips. “told you, i couldn’t sleep.”
you find that strange; he’s always been able to sleep, no problem. and he’s strict about his eight hour sleep schedule. what could be getting to the great itoshi sae?
(sae’s lying through his teeth; having his bedroom right across from yours means he can see when your lights aren’t out. sue him for being a little concerned.)
“so, heard you and the team are going on a soccer trip somewhere in europe,” you bring up. you’d heard it from your friends, strangely, instead of sae himself.
he nods. “yeah, just a select few,” he tells you, “only if we win the tournament though, then the team’ll officially invite us over.”
so-called team you heard about is real madrid, and you’d be crazy to think that sae couldn’t help your university team win on his own.
“guess i won’t be seeing you around when you go,” you mumble idly, not completely aware of what you’re basically saying.
sae is adept at reading in between the lines, but he doesn’t probe you on it. he’s not sure he wants to. he doesn’t know what this is. do you still like him? does he like you too? all these feelings are new; sae doesn’t know what to do with it.
so he keeps it to himself. for now.
he doesn’t really do a good job at following through with it though, because on the day of the tournament finals, he looks at you and winks right as he orchestrates that winning goal for his team, and you’re left wondering if you’re imagining things.
Tumblr media
UNIVERSITY: SOPHOMORE YEAR
the final part of your freshman year went and gone, and it didn’t go exactly how you imagined it to be. you didn’t expect to hear from sae at all when he went on his trip after that tournament.
but you did.
he replied you whenever he had the time. told you anything you asked for. even called you when you had a mini meltdown because of finals.
to be frank, you don’t know what the both of you are anymore. you’re cursing yourself for being too scared to ask.
“hey y/n, have you seen hime anywhere?”
it’s oliver asking, captain of the university’s soccer team and also hime’s current situationship. he’d started hitting her up since that first time sae played and brought attention to you and the people around you.
“yeah, she’s by the pool with mira.”
oliver leaves as soon as you tell him, and you stand awkwardly at the corner of the living room, by the full panel of glass windows, wondering if you should just go home. you’d only came because hime and mira both said you needed to experience a party at least once this year but now you’re surrounded by people making out and drunkards slipping into the pool that it makes you regret giving this a shot at all.
especially since sae’s not going to be back till tomorrow, garnering as much interest as he did during his time in spain. you really have no reason to be here.
“hey there, pretty.”
startled, you find a familiar face up close in your personal space, his finger twirling your hair. you’d recognise that head of blonde and pink anywhere.
“oh, you’re ryusei shido right? you’re on the soccer team with sae,” you think out loud, and he nods, and you can see his blonde lashes so closely it’s making you flustered.
“mhm, fwhat’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a corner? seems like a shame,” he comments, though he doesn’t even give you a chance to answer. the next thing you know, shido drags you into a drinking game with hime and mira (which is why your first instinct wasn’t to run off, if you could trust anyone it’s your best friends). although, shido is getting annoyingly close and you can’t decide if you’re nervous or annoyed.
and the heavens surely love you when they let shido draw the card that corresponds to a dare, and they love testing your boundaries when some guy called otoya dares him to kiss you.
but no, you know that the heavens really do love you when someone yanks shido’s hair back and pulls him away from your face, taking his spot in between the both of you in the bid for proximity that you don’t mind because it’s itoshi sae.
“sae, what’re you doing here? i thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow,” you ask, a little shell-shocked but you still notice he’s discerning frown and how there’s barely any space between the two of you.
he looks at you, tilting his head, “what? my girl’s not happy to see me here?”
you don’t respond. half because you think you’re dreaming and fuck—really, did he just call you his girl?
“eh? i don’t recall you having a girlfriend?” shido leers, a hand on the spot of his head where sae had pulled on earlier.
“yeah, besides, shido still has to do the dare.” otoya sounds bored more than anything, but the guy beside him, karasu, if you remember correctly, is smirking.
sae sighs, and you feel like you must’ve crossed the boundary to another dimension when you feel sae’s lips on yours, and you think you’re in limbo when you feel his hand on your neck, pulling you close. his tongue pries your lips apart and people are whistling while shido’s behind him saying get a fucking room or i’ll beat off to this.
when the object of your affection finally pulls away, you’re met with the same pair of unbothered teal eyes, the pair that immediately turns to face otoya. “there, did it for him. now move on.”
you’re beginning to thank alcohol for its existence when almost everyone obeys wordlessly, moving on to some other guy’s turn. you really can’t remember who sits on shido’s right when all you can think of is that itoshi sae, your longtime high school crush, actually kissed you.
that’s enough to warrant the question, right? the question of what sae takes you for?
the inner debate sparks long into the night, even when sae walks you back to your apartment, the both of you side by side in silence.
“sae, what was that?”
he plays coy. “what was what?”
you’re only a little tipsy, so you can still tolerate his avoidance. “you confuse me a lot, you know that?”
sae doesn’t take the bait. “oh, i see.”
“you were jealous.” he was. he really was. you can tell; he was sour to shido the entire night. he stuck close to you too, sometimes your fingers brushed against each other’s.
“so what if i was?”
this one is new. sae’s actually admitting it. and usually you’d chicken out but you can see your apartment coming into view and you don’t want to let this go.
“what am i to you, sae?” you manage to choke it out a few feet away from the door, and sae stops in his tracks, hands in his pocket and teal eyes looking heavenward.
you’re beginning to regret your decision to ask; you’re not sure if his indecision is a good or bad thing. nothing seems to be simple when it comes to itoshi sae.
but he does nothing to appease your confusion when he steps in front of you, his body pressed flush against yours as he presses another kiss to your lips, and you think this one is special because it’s not done in the name of a dare or in front of anyone else. this kiss is for you and you alone and sae is doing this on purpose.
when he pulls back, you see him furrow his brows and you can tell that maybe he’s just as confused as you are.
“when i managed to get an earlier slot for my flight, all i could think about was how excited i was to see you.”
is this… a confession? you’re even more confused now that you don’t even know what to say.
to be honest, so is sae, which is why he swallows the lump in his throat and relegates to his apartment, “goodnight.”
things after that change just a little.
you’d decided to go with the flow, just because you really don’t want to sabotage whatever friendship you and sae had left, although most of the time, sae is the one toeing the line. even though he doesn’t outright tell you anything regarding his feelings.
but you think you figured him out.
sae asks you out whenever you’re both free, and not for shit like studying or errands, but for movies and dinner and he drives you around in his car and looks at you like you’re the only girl he sees. his eyes don’t wander when he’s with you, and he lets you wear even more of his jackets. it’s also evolved to his jerseys and his beloved windbreakers. you have one of each in your own closet and he never seems to ask for them back anymore. he also lets you wear his rings, puts them on your fingers randomly.
both of you still go for parties, especially when it’s one of the soccer guys who are throwing it, because they practically force sae to go and they know you’re the key to convincing him.
most of the time the two of you just laze on the couch, drinking and talking about nothing at all, and he idly plays with your fingers when he’s tipsy, something you never tell him because you like it, because you don’t want him to feel self-conscious and stop. he also smells your hair after he sends you home and hugs you before he retreats to his place, and you wonder if he’s fully sober when he does that.
you resign to getting your answer some other time, because you don’t want anything to ruin this, if this is just an illusion. yeah, you’d talking feelings some other time.
Tumblr media
UNIVERSITY: JUNIOR YEAR
you really had no right to be, but you are. try as you might, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the way you do. especially not when she’s sitting so so close to him, when her hand brushes his fingers.
she’s just his project partner, nothing more, but something irks you about the way she can get so close to him so quickly when it took you much longer. but then you hear from shido that kaori is rin and sae’s childhood friend, so maybe that’s why they’re so damn close.
apparently, she’d gotten back to japan after ten years abroad. with great timing too, right when you thought you and sae could amount to something.
“you know, i could help you make him jealous if you wanna,” shido whispers in your ear one time when he catches you staring at them. “we’ll make him feel how you feel, m’kay?”
and while that’s tempting, you shake your head. it’s unreasonable for you to take it out on him that way, not when he hasn’t actually done anything that proves he’s just leading you on.
lately sae’s been so busy around kaori that you’re just thinking too much. you’re wondering if he’s slowly replacing you. he still talks to you over text, but you barely hang out like you did before. you still spot him through the windows, but he’s always too tired to notice you. even his texts are getting slower.
“hey, you okay?”
trust it to hime to notice your personal dilemma. you’re not really surprised though, because she’s been watching you moping for the last few weeks. she now has oliver wrapped fully around her finger, with him sticking around her all the time, which is a surprise considering his reputation.
but hime will take your side, you know this, and maybe that’s why you play it off. you don’t want her to hate sae because of a momentary feeling, so you tell her you’re just sick and you’ll go back home.
the moment you get back to your apartment, you see sae waiting out on the front, car ready while he leans against the hood, waiting.
and you might’ve asked if he was waiting for kaori, but then he looks up and sees you and smirks and that’s all you need to know that he’s not. he was waiting for you, and now he’s opening the passenger side door and telling you to “get in, stupid.”
that’s how sae is with you, impromptu and surprisingly sweet. he drives you to the pier, a cute spot right next to an amusement park where he’d gotten you some candy floss before the both of you just sits on the hood of his car, enjoying the scenery.
“why’d you suddenly bring me here?”
sae lies down, the sun hitting his face in all the right places. he’s gorgeous, you realise for what seems like the thousandth time since you’d known him.
“oliver told me you’d been a little mopey lately,” sae says, and you’re already embarrassed. “sorry if i’ve been busy lately.”
you mirror his position, lying down next to him, and it feels oddly nice like this. you’re not sure if it’s the situation or the person.
“it’s okay, i heard that kaori’s your old friend right? you guys must have a lot to catch up on.” it doesn’t stop you from feeling jealous, but it’ll pass. you hope.
sae chuckles before he turns to you, and you turn to face him too, “you’re jealous.” he smirks, and you’re reminded of the same thing you told him that first night he kissed you.
“shut up, sae.”
he laughs because you’re being pouty, and because maybe it feels a little nice to know you can feel it too. just then, he mirrors what you did way back in high school, reaching across you for your phone. except he doesn’t key in anything—he opens up your camera and takes a picture of the two of you like this, sae looking naturally handsome and better than you because you’re stunned he’s doing this, eyes wide and expression puzzled.
“what’s that for?”
sae’s still fiddling on your phone as you ask, and then he passes it back to you. he’d set it as your phone’s wallpaper.
“to remind you that you’re the one i like, idiot.”
and even though you and sae aren’t physically too close in the wallpaper, you think maybe it’s enough to tide your feelings through for now. he doesn’t ask you for anything else after that, just leaves his confession at that and sends you home before saying he has to finish up his project, aka going to find kaori.
it’s fine by you though, because now you know where sae’s head’s at, even though he never explicitly asked you anything. you’re sure he knows how you feel too, especially since you’d been the one to kiss him first that day a few years back.
but how apt for you to go to sleep early and be woken up by dozens of messages blowing up your phone, the majority of them attaching pictures at a certain party.
still pictures of sae locking lips with kaori, and you feel your heart sinking.
sae’s message comes through just as you’re scrolling through your phone.
meet me at my place? not what it looks like, i promise.
and maybe it’s because you feel like you know sae well enough that you’re not even panicking. you respond within seconds.
sure, see you!
you take the liberty of going next door, entering when one of the other guys who lives there clumsily walks in drunk. it’s easy enough to find sae’s room, you recognise it from across your own room too well. and maybe it’s a slight invasion of privacy but you can’t help but turn your attention to his desk.
his room is all neat with the occasional laundry thrown on the corner of the room, trophies and medals on the bookshelf by the table. but what catches your eye is the little pink heart-shaped post-it note that looks all too familiar.
your handwriting fills the piece of paper.
i think you’re cute and i really really like you
you could cringe right now from how cringe you were being back then. but then you realise, sae kept this? did he keep this knowing it was from you? you hear the door opening downstairs and jump back a little, accidentally pressing on his keyboard while trying to place your note back in its position, and the screensaver that greets you renders you speechless.
it’s the picture sae took of the both of you at the bleachers of his first match.
someone closes the laptop before you can think any more, and you’re greeted with sae right next to you, cheeks flushed—either from alcohol or embarrassment. you can’t really tell, but judging from the lack of alcohol stench, you’d like to bet it’s the latter.
“you have me as your wallpaper?”
sae clicks his tongue, annoyed he didn’t get there in time for you not to see that. “who else would i put there?”
you bite your tongue to stop yourself from instinctively saying kaori out of spite. guess you’re still a little groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night.
“about earlier,” sae begins, not really sure how to continue.
“you mean the pics going around of you and kaori kissing?” you’re not even mad, you’re sure there’s an explanation—that’s how much you feel you know itoshi sae. he’s not the type to bother with leading someone on; if anything, he’s probably the type to immediately cut things off if he wasn’t interested and so far, he’s always been thinking of you.
sae sighs, rubbing his temple before taking a seat on his bed. “that was fucking stupid,” he grumbles, eyes closed. “she was way too tipsy and getting all up in my face and before i knew it she just—” his eyes are open now, briefly looking at you before looking away, hiding behind the sides of his soft locks, “she kissed me. i was stunned for a little so…”
you snicker a little, because sae looks so different from how he usually looks—aloof, ignorant, arrogant. now he looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the side and you can’t help but notice the difference.
“sae… why are you telling me this?”
screw his indecisiveness, if it was in the first place. you want his answer now, up straight. and sae seems to know what you’re thinking because he chuckles, relieved because he can read your tone—you’re not angry, not upset, you trust him somehow and it’s only because despite what you think, you know him better than anyone else.
“fuck off, y/n, you already know,” and he says this affectionately because you can feel the tenderness in the way he says your name, in the way he invites you into his arms—the way he pulls you close and lets you sit facing him on his lap. “you gonna be my girlfriend now or what?”
your lips are so so close and you’re both holding back so so much. “mmm i don’t know, itoshi sae, what if i wanna see you beg me for it?”
“god, i hate you,” he says, without meaning it. it’s the first time you’re actually feeling how strong he is, because he lifts you up from the back of your thighs and throws you on his bed as he hovers over you, a little squeal leaving your lips at the unexpected gesture. “hm, kinda like that sound you make.”
he’s saying it so monotonously that you’re embarrassed. “shut up, sae, before i leave.”
“that’s cute, you think you’d actually leave me,” he teases, and you curse yourself for finding that slight condescending tone of his hot. “but hey, really, be my girlfriend.”
“you asking me that after kissing another girl?” you act shocked, acutely aware of how his fingers are all intertwining with yours, your hands on either side of your head, sae pinning you down. if anyone walked in now, they’d get the wrong idea of what you two are doing. for sure. but you try to act unbothered, you don’t want to boost his ego even more.
sae leans down to press his forehead against yours, and you’re hoping your heart doesn’t leap out of your chest because he’d definitely feel it. “shit timing, i know. but you’re the only one i want, so.”
he’s pretty shit at talking emotions, you realise. and then you realise that this only works because you’re equally good at reading his. despite his reluctance to talk emotions, he shows you how special you are, constantly.
many girls want him, but you’re the one he spends most of his time with. you’re the one with his actual clothes in your closet and his rings on your fingers. you’re the one sae kisses and willingly so, the only one who’s on his wallpaper reminding him of what he’ll have each time he comes home.
“i told kaori i liked you and no one else too,” sae continues explaining, though he really doesn’t need to. you listen anyway. “she got mad and stormed off but shit, i don’t care. only care about you.”
and he’s pretty forthcoming with his feelings when he wants to be and that’s enough for you. you squeeze his fingers lightly and smile at him.
you don’t have to hear any more to know.
“i love you too, itoshi sae.”
the way he marks you that night lets you in on everything you need to know.
Tumblr media
UNIVERSITY: SENIOR YEAR
six years.
it’s been six years since you’d first had a crush on itoshi sae. and now you’re his girlfriend, always in the front row for every match and the object of most of his fangirls’ hatred. that’s okay though, none of that matters.
whenever you come back home to your (shared) apartment now, it’s like all your worries melt away into the void, and sae reminds you just how much you mean. even if his pet names are less than swoon-worthy at times.
“you really need to stop posting shit like this,” you deadpan, showing sae your phone screen. it’s a picture of you asleep in the morning, drooling on his bare shoulder.
sae blinks, acting coy like he always does. “what? it’s cute.”
“you’re insufferable, itoshi.”
sae ignores that, switching the subject. “hey, you have any goals for your twenties?”
you hum, pondering. “well, i guess if i could do what i want, i’d travel the world,” you pause, sitting up on the sofa and looking at him. “why?”
it’s the last year of university, and the both of you are finishing your degrees, with the possibility that sae might be getting a contract with one of the overseas clubs. you’re not really sure; there’s a few of them who’ve expressed interest, but you’d always let sae think through it on his own.
does his question have something to do with that?
“was thinking i wanted to take you along if you wanted to come with,” sae half explains, because he’s bad with details like that. he continues when he spots your confusion, “if you wanted to explore wherever i decided to go.”
oh, he means he wants to take you along to wherever he decided to go. you’re flattered, honestly.
“you mean, the itoshi sae wants to bring me wherever he goes, huh?” sae is already turning red, sensing your big head. “you offering to be my sugar daddy too?”
sae sighs. “you’re so stupid, i swear,” he complains, his words lacking any bite because he’s rubbing circles onto your arms. “you said you found some remote jobs right? thought we could make use of that and just go wherever together.”
after six years, you finally see sae trying to plan a future where the both of you are together. he loves soccer, but he loves you too, and you’re not the kind of person who’d make him choose, so you appreciate his compromises instead.
“itoshi sae, i’ll follow you wherever you go.”
he presses a hasty kiss on your lips, “good, ‘cause i plan on keeping you forever.”
you grin, pulling him down to you and kissing him even deeper, “i’ll hold you to your words, then.”
sae smiles against your lips. because he knows he got lucky with you, lucky you were there at the right moment, slipping your love letter into his locker. lucky you continued to like him, lucky you knew how to put him in his place whenever. lucky you’re you and you love him.
maybe he’s always liked you, even back in freshman year of high school when he realised how kind you are, how gentle you could be. you looked pretty in the sun that day, when he first saw you trying out soccer in the yard and falling flat on your ass. you didn’t notice him back then but he noticed you, not that you knew. sae didn’t try anything because he was sure it’d fail. but who knew all it took for his mind to change was a simple nudge from you?
he’s pretty sure that you’re his human manifestation of a forever.
“when the time comes, just say yes.”
7K notes · View notes
flightlessangelwings · 2 months
Text
Could I Have This Kiss Forever?
Joel Miller x fem!reader
Important Note: This blog supports Palestine and does not condone or share the views of the creator of TLOU. Please interact with tlou critically and be aware of the zionistic views of its creator.
Word count-4.5k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), Valentine's Day fic, fluff, mutual pining, set in Jackson after the first game/season, reader is a baker/cook, reader can remember life before the outbreak but no age specified, food mention, oral (f receiving), praise, unprotected, soft pleasure dom Joel, squirting, feelings, no use of y/n
Notes- Happy Valentine's Day @saradika I'm your secret Valentine!!! I loved the prompt you gave and the idea came to me almost immediately! And I tried to fit as many things as you mentioned in this as I could! I hope you like it! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!
Tumblr media
~
Joel could see his breath as he walked down the street. There was a nip in the air, and it stung his face as the cold hit what little exposed skin he had. Wrapping his jacket a little tighter, Joel huffed as the light layer of snow crunched beneath his feet. It wasn’t unusual for there to be cold and snow in mid February in Jackson, yet the glistening white in the trees always made its residents awestruck. The setting sun illuminated the land in a way that made the surrounding look like a painting. Even Joel had to appreciate the beauty of it all.
It reminded them of a simpler time, a more peaceful time. It reminded everyone of a time before the world collapsed, before there was the daily worry for their lives. Joel used to push those thoughts down. He used to try to ignore the sting of Sarah’s absence. But, the longer he was in Jackson with Tommy and Ellie and others who he would soon call friends, the more he allowed himself to think about his lost daughter and how much she would have loved the snow.
But, a tantalizing smell broke Joel out of his thoughts. As he passed the little building on the corner which had become a bakery slash bar, his thoughts turned to someone else: you.
You brought a new light to Jackson the day you arrived, and Joel was immediately taken with you. From the way your eyes captivated him to the way your smile made his heart flutter in a way no one else did, Joel was a goner from the moment he laid eyes on you. He kept it a secret, though. Life was hard enough as it was, even for those lucky enough to find their way to Jackson.
If Joel only knew you harbored the same secret he did…
Inside the building was the complete opposite of the chilly outside. It was warm and bright and the smells of various cakes and desserts permeated the space as you worked. You actually felt hot enough to shed your outer layers and rolled up your sleeves. You were so focused on the task in front of you that you didn’t hear the door open until a gruff voice cleared his throat.
Jumping up with a gasp, you looked up and locked eyes with… “Joel,” you breathed as you relaxed, “You startled me!”
“Sorry,” he helped his hands up in mock surrender, “I just wanted to check in on ya,” he continued, “It’s gettin’ late and you’re still here workin’ hard.”
“Oh,” you replied in a daze as you noticed the lack of sun from behind where Joel stood in the doorway, “Lost track of time, I guess,” you murmured, “I wanted to finish all these tonight for the big Valentine’s dance tomorrow night so I can enjoy the party too.”
Valentine’s Day… Joel didn’t even realize that was tomorrow. “Want a little help?” he offered, “I ain’t much good in the kitchen, but you can tell me what to do.”
You smirked as your mind ran with the thought of telling big strong Joel what to do, “Go wash your hands and you can help me with these last few cakes.”
“Yes ma’am,” Joel replied with a smirk of his own and both of you felt like the room just got a lot warmer.
Joel shrugged off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt before he went to the sink to wash his hands and made his way back to you. He was positive Ellie would give him a hard time if she caught him like this- working with little sweets and desserts, following your orders instead of taking the lead. But, Joel also found he didn’t mind. He enjoyed the feeling of domestic bliss, even if it was only for this one evening.
“You’re really good at this,” Joel commented as he watched you meticulously decorate the various cakes you spent all afternoon baking.
“Thanks,” your heart fluttered at the compliment from Joel Miller, “I’ve always been creative since I was a kid. I liked making things… art and stuff. I actually wanted to be some kind of artist when I was younger, before…” you trailed off as you stopped and raised your eyes to meet his. 
Both of you froze for a moment as you gazed into the other’s eyes. Time stopped, as did your breathing. The roughness around Joel’s eyes framed the softness that lay hidden there. Scars on his face told you he had been through a lot, but then again so had you. As you looked at him, studying his face, you completely forgot to breathe, losing yourself in his features.
Joel felt himself tense as he stared back at you. The warmth that surrounded him felt like it came from you, not the heat in the room. He wasn’t too good with the whole comforting thing, but Joel wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and hold you close, protecting you from everything around. Normally, he was good at burying his feelings, but he slipped when his eyes flashed down to your lips for just the briefest moment.
Clearing his throat right away, Joel leaned back, breaking the trance you both were in, “Yeah,” he finally said, filling the silence, “You are an artist that’s for sure. You’re certainly better than me anyway,” he muttered as he held up the messily decorated cake in his hands.
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, “Joel,” you covered your face with your hands, “I’m sorry, I…” you wheezed as your laughter became uncontrollable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Joel rolled his eyes. It didn’t bother him though, he knew he had many strengths and even before the outbreak, he couldn’t decorate a cake to save his life. Plus, the sound of your laughter was music to his eyes, and Joel loved to hear it whenever he could.
“Here,” you took a few breaths to gather yourself, “Let me show you a trick.”
You moved over to sit next to him and took the spatula from his hand, brushing it ever so slightly as you did so. A chill ran up your spine at the slight contact, but you swallowed hard and fought to keep your composure.
“You alright, sweetheart?” Joel asked, noticing the slight change in your demeanor. 
“Fine,” you replied back right away, “Here,” you used the spatula to scoop some icing and ran it along the cake, “Just like painting a picture.” 
“Beautiful,” Joel mumbled under his breath, completely ignoring the cake you were decorating. 
Luckily, or unluckily, for Joel, you didn’t notice as you became too enthralled with what you were doing. 
“There!” you sounded triumphant as you put the finishing touches on what cake Joel had worked on, “Ta da!” you held it up with pride and beamed at him for a moment before you set it down and turned to the far table, “Now just a few more to go…”
“I ain’t going nowhere,” Joel said, “As long as you won’t shit on my decorating anymore, I’ll stay and help… If you’ll have me.”
A mix of emotions ran though you. You wanted to laugh at him again for his poor decorating skills, but you also didn’t want him to leave your side. So, biting your lip to stifle a giggle, you replied, “Ok I promise I won’t laugh at you again.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” Joel smirked, sending a wave of heat through your body.
Hours passed and it was well into the night before you and Joel finally finished. You enjoyed his company, and the two of you filled the time shooting the shit while you worked. It took some time, but Joel finally let his guard down around you, and you loved that he trusted you enough to relax. And you trusted him too, and felt safe around him. 
“Well I think that does it,” you sighed heavily as you wiped you face, “That was the last one!”
Joel looked at you with pure admiration on his face, as if he were a lovestruck teenager and the world was normal again. Then as he studied your face closer, he couldn’t help but let out a single soft laugh.
“What is it?” you asked, puzzled.
“Ya got a little…” Before he realized what he was doing, Joel reached out and brushed your face with his hand, wiping a smudge of frosting off your cheek, “There.”
You gasped softly as you stood there stunned, frozen in place as you felt a tingle where Joel touched your skin. Absentmindedly, you touched your cheek with your fingers, relishing in the lingering warmth of his touch.
Joel was about to apologize, but he also found himself in a trance. You just looked so beautiful, and he wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction to his touch.
But, before he could say hating, you broke the silence. “Hey Joel…” you started, suddenly feeling nervous as your skin warmed so much that you were sure the reminanta of the frosting on your face were about to sizzle.
“Yeah?”
“I uhh…” you fumbled over your words, your gaze dropping to the ground as you felt his eyes on you, “Thank you,” you breathed as you looked at Joel again, “I would have been here all night if you weren’t helping me.”
A flash of disappointment showed on Joel’s face before he glanced over your shoulder and noticed the hint of sun in the horizon, “It looks like we still did,” he muttered as he motioned toward the window.
You let out a heavy sigh, “Well fuck I guess we did,” you chuckled nervously, still feeling the lingering tension in the air between the two of you. 
It hung in the air unspoken between the two of you: It’s Valentine’s Day.
You fiddled with your fingers nervously as you weren’t sure what to say. The air suddenly felt thick between the two of you, as if there was so much you both had to say. Yet, neither of you had the courage to break what you already had.
Joel cleared his throat as he closed the gap between your bodies and mumbled your name, “Listen I…” he rested a hand on your shoulder.
“Yes?” you looked at him with a hopeful expression, your lips parted as you breathed heavily.
“I uhh,” Joel stuttered. He scanned your face, taking in every inch of your beauty as the words were right on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”
A brief flash of disappointment showed on your face before you gathered yourself, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Joel,” you replied in a hushed tone.
“Why don’t we go get some sleep before the big party tonight?” he offered, “I’ll put this all away for ya.”
“Yeah, ok,” you sounded distant, “See you tonight then?”
Joel smiled, “I wouldn’t miss it.”
That lifted your spirits, “See you tonight, Joel.” 
*
The Valentine’s Day dance was a huge success, as were your cakes. Everyone made sure to stop and compliment you before they went back to dancing and enjoying their time. Some even asked you for a dance themselves, but you turned them all down. No, there was only one person you wanted to dance with, and he stood on the other end of the room.
“Go on, ask her to dance,” Ellie nudged Joel, “Or are you too fuckin’ scared?” she added with a tease, “Chicken!”
“Ellie,” Joel sighed as he rolled his eyes, “Just stay out of it, alright.”
Knowing when to back down, she raised her hands in surrender, “Alright, alright,” she slid her hands in her pockets and started to walked away before she glanced over her shoulder, “But don’t come crying to me when someone else asks her to dance cause you were too chickshit to.”
“Ellie!” Joel snapped, but she ran off and disappeared into the crowd, presumably to find Dina. Joel knew about Ellie’s little crush on her, but he decided to let her come to him on her own terms about it. He just wanted his kid to be happy after all…
Joel’s thought turned from Ellie to you as he scanned the room and found you again. You had moved slightly, but you still stood at the edge of the crowd, not dancing with anyone. You looked stunning as you found yourself right under a light as if it was a spotlight just for you. Your smile lit up the room as yet another person came up to compliment you, and Joel’s chest tightened as the person was obviously asking you to dance.
“Shit…” he mumbled under his breath, thinking he missed his chance.
But, Joel was surprised to see them walk away with a disappointed look on their face while you stayed in that same spot. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment before you scanned the room and locked eyes with Joel. Freezing in place, your mouth parted to let out a deep exhale.
“Fuck it,” Joel muttered to himself, thinking it was now to never. He crossed the room, greeting his brother on the way before he walked up to you. Joel tried to act calm and smooth to hide the nerves he secretly harbored, “Howdy ma’am,” he nodded his head once in a greeting as you giggled, “May I have this dance?” He extended a hand to you.
“Joel Miller,” you breathed, “I thought you’d never ask,” you grinned as you slid your hand in his. 
You knew he didn’t usually dance, and your heart pounded in your chest as you wondered why he broke his streak. And the warmth of his large hand in yours radiated throughout your body, making you a little dizzy. But, Joel was there to catch you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close as the tune changed to a slower ballad.
Leaning against his sturdy chest, you swayed with Joel to the rhythm of the song. But, you could barely hear it over the pounding of your heart. You barely even heard when Joel said something to you, or said your name when you didn’t respond.
“What?” you blinked as you focused your eyes.
“I said them desserts seem to be a hit,” Joel repeated himself as he adjusted his grip on your body.
“Yeah,” you replied, “Even those messy looking ones,” you smirked.
“Hey you promised,” he quipped back with no malice in his tone and a soft grin on his face.
“I know, I know,” you laughed softly, “I’m sorry. They still taste good though.”
“They do,” Joel’s tone dropped, as did his gaze.
“Joel…” you breathed as you felt the burning heat of his gaze on you.
“Listen, I uhhh,” he murmured your name in a low tone, “I wanna kiss you so fuckin’ bad right now,” the moan you let out went right to Joel’s cock, “But I don’t wanna share ya with all these people.”
Another moan escaped your lips and time felt frozen around you and heat rose from your pussy all throughout your body, “Joel…” you whined his name again as desperation took over you.
Joel leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering over yours as the slow sway of your bodies slowed down. He wanted to kiss you so badly. He wanted this for so long. But, Joel was also secretly a romantic, and he didn’t want his first kiss with you to be witnessed. He wanted to selfishly keep that to himself. So, instead of closing the gap, he murmured in a low tone, “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes,” you breathed immediately as you pulled away enough to look into his eyes. You gasped softly when you saw the deep need that burned behind his eyes, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. “Let’s go, Joel.” you slipped your hand into his and let him lead you out the door and away from the party and wandering eyes.
From the other side of the room, Ellie grinned widely as she watched the two of you slip away from the party.
*
The moment the door to Joel’s house closed, it was like a flip switched in his head. “Can I kiss you now, baby?” he asked in a low tone as he backed you up against the door.
“You better,” you smirked back as you grabbed his collar, “And call me that again,” you groaned as you bucked your hips against his.
Joel grunted as he grinned against your cheek, “Baby…” his low grumble went right to your core as he took your lips with his in a heated kiss.
His beard tickled your skin as his lips warmed yours. Joel’s strong hands gripped you tightly as he pulled you against his body. You clung to his shirt as his kiss warmed you from the inside while his chest warmed your own as you felt yourself pressed flush against him. Despite the dizzying feeling in your head, you knew you were safe in his arms and that Joel wouldn’t let you fall.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” you purred against his lips between kisses. 
“Thought you’d never ask,” Joel smirked back.
You erupted into giggles as Joel yanked you enthusiastically down the hall. Hands roamed all over each other’s bodies as you each tugged at the other’s clothing. Joel closed the gap between your lips over and over again, desperately kissing you between shoving clothes off.
A trail of clothing led the way to Joel’s room until neither of you had anything on. You felt like you were in a whirlwind as you allowed Joel to guide you though his house until your legs hit the edge of his bed. A gasp escaped your lips as you realized where you were, but you quickly gathered yourself. Grabbing his broad shoulders, you flung yourself back onto his bed, both of you exhaling sharply as you landed with Joel on top of you.
“Shit, baby,” Joel muttered as he took a moment to study your naked figure beneath him, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”
“So are you, Joel,” you breathed as you cupped his face, burying your hands in his hair.
Joel let out another sharp breath, “Well don’t you know how to make a man feel special?”
“Just like you know how to treat a lady,” you smirked back.
“Oh you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Joel’s tone dropped as he dipped his head down and took your lips once more. He swallowed the moan you let out and bucked his hips against yours, relishing the feeling on your skin against his after so many nights imagining this. 
Joel broke away from the kiss to make his way down your neck, licking and nibbling your sensitive skin along the way. Your mouth dropped open as your mind swam in the pleasure that was Joel’s kisses. But, the sensations only heightened when he reached your breast and wrapped his lips around your nipple.
The cry you let out went right to Joel’s cock, and every moan from you only made him need you more. Joel’s tongue swirled around your nipple as he kneaded your other breast with his calloused hand. You arched your back to allow him more access to your body and buried your hand in his hair, tugging slightly every time he sucked at your nipple just a little bit harder.
“Joel… Fuck…” you whined as he kissed his way to your other breast with a low groan and gave it the same treatment. 
He hummed against your skin, rocking his hips against your already soaking wet pussy as he showered you with devotion. As much as Joel wanted to take his time and savor the moment, savor you, his need was too great.
“Shit baby,” Joel breathed as he kissed his way down the front of your body, “You taste to fuckin’ good,” he growled as he eyed your pussy and settled between your parted legs, “But I bet your pussy tastes even better.”
Before you could laugh at his antics, or even appreciate his humor, Joel’s tongue swirled around your clit and licked up and down your folds, shoving every other thought from your body. You cried out in pleasure as your body already trembled under his touch.
“Fuck!” you screamed as you gripped the sheets tightly.
“Fuck me, you do taste good, baby,” Joel groaned as he came up for air for a moment before he dove back into you.
You cried out even louder as you moved your hands to his shoulders for support. Joel growled into you as he hiked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening your body up to him more. Tears filled your eyes as his tongue hit your clit perfectly, and you knew you weren’t going to last.
Especially then Joel pushed two tick fingers inside of you while his tongue contoured tracing patterns on your clit.
“Joel! Fuck!” you screamed, “Yes!”
“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he murmured, his lips hovering over your pussy just for a moment.
“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, “You’re gonna make he cum if you keep doing that,” your hips bucked on their own as his fingers pumped in and out of you in a steady rhythm.
“Good,” he grinned before he covered your cunt with his lips once more and sucked harder.
The moans you let out echoed in the room as you felt your climax quickly build. Your core tightened as you gasped when his fingers hit that sweet spot inside of you. And before you could warn him, you came hard into Joel’s mouth. You gushed as your body felt like it was floating in the pleasure Joel gave you and you screamed his name loudly as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body.
Joel kept going until he heard you whimper, determined to pull every punch of your claim from you and lap up every drop of your release. When he finally broke away, both of you gasped loudly. You flopped down flat, limp from exhaustion, and Joel sat up to admire how beautiful you looked.
“Shit, baby,” Joel groaned, “That was better than them cakes.”
You blinked your eyes open and met Joel’s gaze. The two of you froze for a moment before you burst into laughter, “I never knew you were so funny, Joel.”
He leaned forward, covering your body with his own, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sugar,” he hummed in amusement as his lips hovered over yours.
“Then I want to learn them all,” you whispered against his lips.
“Me too, baby,” he murmured before he took your lips in a slow kiss.
You moaned into his mouth as you wrapped your arms and legs around him, “Joel,” you breathed, “I need you to fuck me now.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied with a huff as he positioned himself at your entrance.
Both of you gasped as the tip of his cock poked at your pussy. Joel broke away just enough to watch your face as he slowly started to push in, feeling the warmth of your wetness around him. Your eyes snapped shut as you savored the stretch of his cock as you clawed at his back. Joel tried to keep his own eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment, but you felt too good that he couldn’t help but close them.
Joel mumbled your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Shit you feel so fuckin’ good, sweetehart.”
“Joel…” was all you could say, too lost in the bliss to form any coherent thought.
The bed creaked as Joel started a slow rhythm, rocking himself in and out of you. Once again, your moans filled the room in a beautiful melody as Joel fucked you. Only this time, his own grunts and groans harmonized with yours, creating an all new song.
Heat rose in the room despite the chilly air outside as Joel picked up his pace. Feeling you engulf him made him forget about the ache in his back as he thrust his hips back and forth over and over again. Joel was just as lost in you as you were in him, and he was sure neither of you were going to last much longer.
After so long of wanting you, finally having you almost made Joel cry. He murmured your name over and over again as he mumbled how beautiful you looked on his cock, “So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunted, “Fuck…”
“Fuck… Yes… Joel…” was all you could form as you felt another orgasm quickly approach, “Gonna cum…”
“Show me how pretty you are when you cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he growled as he picked up his pace, his hips slapping against yours as he chased his own climax.
“Fuck!” you screamed as you tightened your grip on Joel and trembled under his body as your second peak hit.
“That’s it baby,” Joel groaned, “That’s my girl,” he gasped as he felt your inner muscles squeeze him tightly.
Your climax triggered his own and with a moan of your name, Joel spilled himself deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. Chills ran up your spine as you felt him cum in you, and you moaned softly as the aftershocks of your own climax pulsed through your body at the same time.
Joel kept his pace as long as he could until he pulled back once last time, pulling out of you, before he collapsed on the bed next to you. You gasped as you felt a sudden emptiness, but Joel immediately wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close.
No words were spoken as the two of you came down from your highs. But this time, it was a comforting silence in the air. The tension from the day before was gone now that the two of you finally showed your true feelings for the other. Joel breathed deeply as he stroked you back comfortingly, and you smiled against his chest as you felt the beat of his heart.
You stayed like that for some time before you broke the silence, “Hey Joel,” you wriggled out of his embrace and straddled him, “Can I ask you something?”
“Shit, lookin’ like that you can have anything you want, baby,” Joel joked as he admired your naked form on top of him.
You grinned back at him as you rested your hands on his chest, “Will you be my Valentine?”
Joel’s face lit up as he grabbed you and yanked you down, crashing your lips together, “Always, baby,” he murmured between kisses. When you broke away for air, Joel gazed lovingly up at you, “Now why don’t you show me how pretty you are when you ride me?”
The moan you let out went right to both of your cores and it began a second sleepless night in a row for you and Joel. But, neither of you would complain at all. 
405 notes · View notes
delphi-shield · 5 months
Text
push and pull // leon s. kennedy & jill valentine
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Leon x Reader x Jill Smut wc: 2,860 mdni - 18+
the plumber at my house reading this over my shoulder: 😲 this has been in my drafts for like two months, i finally ripped the bandaid off and touched it up. i cant believe people want the jill/leon ship name to be jilleon when 'breakfast sandwich' is right there. ohh nooo i had to cut the scene where they high-five after you cum...... guess i'll have to write more jill and leon......what a tragedy.....
summary: Jill said she'd be home two hours ago. She's stood you up for dinner again. You're so upset, Leon's got to fuck you about it to make you feel better.
content: fem!reader, all porn no plot, piv (reader receiving), some praise from leon & some degradation from jill, spit, crying, hair-pulling, masturbation, blowjob, dom!jill, use of strap-on, established poly relationship, sorry yeah there's more religious imagery, stealing the jill & leon dynamic from this post, fucking your relationship problems away does not work and you should not attempt. very loosely proofread.
Tumblr media
Jill's late.
She promised. You cooked, you cleaned, and she promised she would be here. Bought a special candle and everything, three wick, fresh linen scent. Not your kind of thing, but you know she likes those clean, bright smells.
The first half hour, you’d clung to the idea that her physical therapy appointment was just running late. Forty-five minutes in, three unanswered texts, your hope diminishes. An hour, and Leon’s helping you put the food up and clean the dishes.
Leon’s not exactly happy with Jill. This isn’t the first time she’s done this to you. He hates to see you pout. Even more than that, he hates to see the way you’re trying not to cry in front of him. He does everything he can think of to make you feel better. Watch one of your godawful shows with you, play with your hair for you, give you a nice bath if you wanted - none of his offers made much of a difference. He knows better than to take it personally. He’s not Jill. He can’t fix what she broke.
He can fuck you about it, though. That always seems to take your mind off things, at least for a little while. 
He let you use him however you like, dealer’s choice. You wanted him in the dining room chair, wanted to ride him slow, grind down on that fat cock till you unwound and your pretty tears weren’t because your girlfriend stood you up, and that’s what you’d get. Not his first choice, but he’s not the one who looks so pretty with those big, wet eyes.
The only downside is that you can't hear Jill's key turning in the door when Leon's got his cock stuffed so deep in your pussy you can feel him in your ribs, when you’re too busy rocking yourself to a gradual, slow-built end. You'd missed your ringtone too - and Leon's for that matter. You weren't intentionally being petty, but intentions never did soothe Jill's moods.
"Nice," she drawls, dropping her bag with a thud. "Real nice."
Your head falls back just enough to get a look at her, pouting in the doorway. Maybe it's supposed to be intimidating. Really, she just looks like a dejected cat, all puffed up for attention. The hand splayed on Leon’s chest flops back uselessly, reaching for her.
“Jill -”
Leon’s hips jut up, reminding you he's here, reminding you who's inside you. Whatever you were going to say melts away into a whine so pathetic even you want to roll your eyes.
"Got started without you," Leon says, callous on your behalf. His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you back to him. It doesn’t take much prompting for you to curl back into his chest, walls fluttering around his cock, gripping him like your life depends on it. "Saved you some dinner. It’s in the fridge."
How can he be so casual? Feels like you’ve got lava running through your blood. His hands settle on your hips again, push-pulling you back and forth to get you to grind again. You oblige, faster than before, mouthing open kisses against his neck. They ought to canonize him for his patience, crown him Patron Saint of Not Plowing You Into The Carpet.
Jill doesn't say a word. She marches off to the bedroom, leaving her boots behind as she goes. Her cardigan gets flung over the couch - poor thing. It didn't do anything wrong.
She’ll come out when she’s ready, you tell yourself. Ignoring the ingrained need to manage Jill’s emotions for her is hard, but not quite as hard as Leon’s dick. Makes it a little easier to forget. You press your moans into Leon’s skin, let him have them for safekeeping.
Her footsteps pound back into the room. You don't know what she's done that's so funny, but Leon shakes with a laugh. You move to look, and his palm pressing against your cheek stops you. Something clatters onto the dining room table, a heavy thunk and buckles. He presses a light kiss to the crown of your head, strokes your hair.
"Go ahead and finish up, baby. Doin' so good. All yours."
It's all the permission you really need. It doesn’t take long - you’re good for him, after all. So good, you don't even need his help. You just need him to hold you up when that slow heat finally expands, spreads like fire through your limbs and leaves you making a mess of his lap, baptizing his cock with your release and moaning hymns for him.
You slump against him, eyes heavy and limbs loose. Your head nestles against his chest, his heart hammering like crazy. Poor guy. So patient. So sweet. You want to offer to take care of that for him - he's still inside you, sitting so still and so good, the stretch all you need. It feels like a bomb went off in your skull, though, scattered all your thoughts around the apartment. You need a moment before you can be considerate, before you can formulate any kind of offer. You reach up, pat his cheek gently to tell him how good he made you feel, lazily kiss at the hollow of his throat.
Jill's got plenty of words, though. She's not the one who just fell apart.
"You so needy you can't wait forty-five minutes?"
"Closer to an hour," Leon counters, and for the first time you hear the strain in his voice. "More like two, actually."
Jill’s irritation boils over. "Shut up. Why don't you go jerk off in the corner?"
After all, he's supposed to be on her side. He's the one who knows what this life is like, the one who knows what their work entails and the stress of it all.
He's also the one who texts when he's running late. He's the one still on active deployment, the one who hadn't been dodging home like the plague. He got over himself a year ago, figured ways to deal with his emotions that didn’t include running as fast as he could, drinking until they drowned, or working himself to the bone.
Jill’s still working on that part. Again - saint-like patience.
“Maybe I will,” he says, casual as he can. He jostles you in his arms. He’d say it’s to keep you awake, but it’s mostly to keep his dick hard. You pulse around him, groan into his t-shirt and drool a little dark patch onto his shirt.
You’re all soft and pliable when her hands slide up your sides, fingers curling in the spaces between your ribs. You lean back to her, longing for the softness of her tits under your head, and you glide back through the air unsupported, like you’ve faded through the ghost of her. Your head lolls back, pretty, pathetic pout on your swollen lips.
“Gonna be good?” She asks, staring down her nose at you, eyes half lidded. You nod your head. Her eyes narrow. “Words.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Shifting you off of Leon's lap is a group effort, one that Leon doesn't particularly care to be too enthusiastic about. His poor dick is lonely, and fucking his fist is a poor substitute for the sticky warmth of your cunt. Jill cradles you in here arms - the first hint of tenderness you've had from her all night - and settles you on the floor in front of the couch. She kicks your legs into position, sways back to appraise your form, and gives you a long-suffering sigh that's a far cry from approval.
"Whatever," she mutters under her breath. "It'll do. Don't move."
She shuffles off to the side. You hear the rustle of fabric. You turn your head to look, and -
"I said don't fuckin' move."
Your head snaps to the front again, hands fisted against the tops of your thighs. No arguing with that tone. Your back is ramrod straight. There's movement to your right, and Leon finally comes into view, settling against the far side of the couch. He's at least kind enough to give you a show, stroking his cock for you in long, slow strokes, massaging his palm over that shiny red tip and sliding his own fluid down to squeeze at the base. Makes your mouth water just looking at him.
Not that you have to wait long for a treat. Jill finishes her prep work, drags herself back over to the couch and drops down in front of you, strap-on making you go crosseyed.
“Go on,” she sighs, waving her hand lazily. Like she’s doing you a favor.
And she is. It’s a privilege to suck her strap.
You rock onto your knees and take too much of her at once, gag yourself right off the bat in your eagerness. They both groan, Jill in exasperation, Leon because holy fuck, if he hears you make that noise again he's going to blow his load immediately. His hand shucks his t-shirt up. He's not trying to stain this shirt with cum. Not his cum, anyway.
"Your mouth is so perfect for this," Jill says, leaning forward and fisting a hand in your hair, "and you're still so bad at it. Do I have to show you how to do everything?"
You nod uselessly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jill rolls her eyes, smothers the hint of a smile that threatens to twist her lips up. She guides your head back to the head of her silicone cock and sets an easy pace for you. Lets you take it nice and slow, get accustomed to the weight of her cock on your tongue as if you haven't done this a hundred times - as if she knows you went too hard right off the bat just to get her to guide you like this.
"There you go," she drones, the praise feeling like anything but. You bob your head freely, her hand in your hair just a suggestion now. "Finally figured it out. Not as dumb you look."
You push further, tucking your thumb tight in your fist and gagging only a little when the head of her cock prods at the back of your throat. Leon's hips buck into his fist, quick and rhythmless, swearing under his breath. His leg kicks out, nudges Jill's calf and you swear she's going to snap at him.
Your eyes cut from Jill to Leon, a tear rolling down your cheek, and that’s the final push that has him cumming all over his stomach, head tipped back into the arm of the couch, pretty moans so loud, so perfect that it makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy.
You don’t have time to savor the way that he looks, paint him in your mind and hang it up on the walls around your skull like a pin-up. Jill lifts you off her cock, stuffing her hands under your armpits like you’re a stray kitten. You would be, for her, if she asked. Let her slip a pretty collar around your neck, hope you’re lucky enough that it’s got a bell.
She doesn’t wait for Leon to recover, just manhandles the pair of you so your back is pressed to his chest, his cum smearing against your skin. Leon’s got that loose limbed laziness that comes with a release that built-up.
“Hold her,” Jill growls. “Stop fucking around.”
Leon's hands curled around the back of your thighs, spreading you wide for Jill. A warm chuckle rumbles through his chest and pours into you. His head ducks down, mouth by your ear.
“She's mad ‘cause I had you first.”
You turn your head, stifle your giggles in his shoulder. The silicone head of Jill's cock slides through your sopping folds, nudging at your clit. Her hips rock agonizingly slow. It’s tough to tell whether she’s teasing you or herself at this point, but your sensitive body twitches and jerks with every pass of her spit-slick cock.
“Gonna make a mess?” Her hand grips your jaw tight, pulling your face from Leon's shoulder. It’s less a question and more a demand. You nod as best you can in her grip, remember too late to try and bumble out words. She taps your cheek twice, hard enough to sting, hard enough to make those pretty eyes water again.
Jill doesn’t wait for you to say it. She enters you in a quick, jerky thrust, no hint of warning, your breath stuttering and back tensing. She rabbits her dick into you, your moans falling as staccato as her pace. Her head bows to spit a fat glob of spit onto your clit. Her fingers rub you frantically, a pace so at odds with the slow push and grind of her hips that it makes you burn. You try to squirm back, the way your blood starts to singe a little too quick for your liking, but there's nowhere to go when you're pressed so tight against Leon's broad chest.
His hand slithers up and over the point of your hip, pressing down firmly just below your navel. Betrayal. You thought he was on your side. Your whining sharpens into a moan that has to have rattled the windows. Jill huffs a laugh, low and cruel. She pulls back just far enough to leave you wanting - and when you claw at her shoulders to drag her back home she's already moving, hard and slow, the light dancing in front of your eyes, her hips driving the breath out of your lungs, your chest caving in. It feels like you've imploded, blood on fire, singeing your bones and leaving the ash to remember it by.
She’s not done. You promised her a mess. Your voice is splintered, her hips still driving into you. You don’t feel yourself gushing around her until it’s already happening. You sniffle, your moans choppy and your tears falling quick, humiliation warming the embers in your stomach. Her pace slows and finally stills, finally lets you find yourself in the pile of ashes.
"Already?" Jill mocks, hands rubbing your quivering thighs soft and sweet despite the way she sneers.
You want to scoff, but you haven’t got the breath. Already, she says, like she hadn’t just ripped that orgasm out of you fast enough that you’ve got cartoon tweety-birds spinning around your head.
“My turn,” Leon pipes up.
“Fuck off. You’re not even hard. I'm just getting started.”
“Shoulda thought about that before you made her cum.”
God, they’re like lions fighting over a piece of meat. You push yourself up on shaky arms, give Jill your best gazelle-trying-not-to-get-eaten pout.
“M’tired,” you slur, your brains thoroughly fucked out. You form a T with your hands, calling for a time-out. “Need a break.”
Jill looks like she wants to bite anyway. But you were good, used your good girl hand signal and everything. She sighs, her shoulders slumping, and loosens the straps around her hips.
“C’mere, pumpkin.” Leon gathers you into his arms easily. “Gonna get you all cleaned up. Tuck your ass in.”
You ache when he moves you, in places you weren’t quite sure could ache. It’ll be worse later. Always is. They always have to fuck you at some weird angle. Can’t ever let your muscles get used to it, like you’re some kind of glorified exercise equipment. At least they wipe you down after they use you. Very polite of them.
Leon hands you your water bottle and settles in behind you, slotting up against your back. He’s got the both of you cleaned off even though he seems just as tired as you, bless him. Say a prayer to the patron saint of the bedroom.
Jill found dinner, apparently. You hear the microwave beeping distantly and share an amused look with Leon. Sure enough, she’s got a bowl of food in her hand when she settles at the end of the bed, legs crossed.
The silence lays somewhere in-between battlefields, landmines hidden all around your bedroom. Everything you want to ask is too loaded, too heavy. You’re not even sure you have the energy to stay up for a serious conversation, much less an argument. Jill looks so soft right now, the bags under her eyes seeming lighter in the warm lamplight of your bedroom. You don’t want to see her eyes sharpen. You don’t want to hear her teeth click together when she bites back her words. You search for some other topic, something that will make the tension evident in her shoulders melt away.
"We should do one of those clone-a-willy kits," you murmur, eyes shut, head tipped into the pillow. You open your eyes just enough to gauge her reaction. Warmth blooms in your chest when you see her eyes crinkle and her smile lines deepen.
"Why?" Jill laughs.
"You don't wanna fuck me with Leon’s dick?"
It’s the first time you’ve heard Jill laugh like that in a while. Pride spreads in your tired little grin. Leon's cock gives a tired twitch against your thigh. He groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder blade.
“You two are gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
446 notes · View notes
tsumskz · 2 months
Text
valentine’s day with your plug
stoner eren x reader
Tw: smut, mentions of weed and smoking, breeding and oral
just a little late valentine’s day post
Tumblr media
Eren Yeager, the most well known suppler in your town. if you weren’t getting your stuff from him then who were you getting it from ?
not only did he have some of the best weed you’ve ever smoked but he was gorgeous, and quite frankly that made your blood boil. it was the brown hair that laid perfectly on his shoulders, half always tied up in a little bun at the back of his head. and those beautiful green eyes that always hung low when you saw him and would catch yourself getting lost in if you stared too long. he was hot and he knew it.
whenever you were in need of bud you dreaded having to hit him up because it’d either take hours for a response or he would leave you on read and randomly show up at your place saying “here”.
you’re sure he thought his looks could make up for his shitty service, but i guess it does because you go back everytime no matter how much it pisses you off.
well today was the same as every other day expect for the fact that it was valentine’s day so all of your friends were busy with their boyfriends and getting laid, blah blah blah and you happened to be violently single but at least you have weed right ?
oh damn i forgot i’m out…
…FUCK IM OUT
god this can’t be happening. it’s valentine’s day and you’re out. eren HAS to have plans tonight, there’s no way he doesn’t and youre gonna be stuck here. bored. sober. alone.
you might as well try to text him and see if there’s a slim chance he’s able to drop by.
walking to your room you contemplate what you’re gonna say, grabbing your phone tapping your fingers till you get to his contact. how do you do this without sounding like a loser ?
6:46pm. you: hey, was wondering if you’d be able to drop by tonight ? wasn’t sure if you’d be busy
now we wait. putting down your phone you go back to what you were occupied with before this catastrophe happened. you suspected it to either take hours or possibly you wouldn’t get a text back at all.
6:55pm. eren: nah i’m not busy tn, should be able to stop by in 10. that cool ?
you swear your stomach sinks to your feet when you hear your phone ding. you knew it wasn’t any of your friends so maybe he wasn’t doing anything after all.
“odd” you thought to yourself that’s definitely the longest message he’s ever texted you before, it was never any longer than a quick “yeah” or “be there in 10”. wonder what’s gotten into him
texting him back a quick “sounds good” you go to sit on the couch waiting for the notification for you to come outside to his car.
7:10. still no eren. you knew this would happen. its never the time he says. god he’s so fucking stupid i’m done goi-
*DING DONG*
you nearly jump out of your seat. heart now pounding out of your chest as you walk up to the door confused as to who it could be since you definitely weren’t expecting anyone to knock.
opening the door you begin to notice a familiar face…eren.
why was he at your door ? the mere sight of him makes your stomach churn with seems like anger. never has he once showed up and knocked on your door.
why is your heart racing? …
“the front door ? that’s new” snarky comment making him laugh. you felt awkward. was he trying to invite himself in ? you had so many questions running thru your mind but you were assuming it was nothing
“felt like saving you the longg walk from here to my car” he says dragging out long with a dramatic voice throwing his head back and bending his knees
“surprised you’re not busy with all the ladies that are probably dying to rip your pants off” ignoring his stupid joke. your hand reaches out to grab what he actually came here for but you’re met with nothing, like he wants to stand here talking to you more.
“ gotta keep them on their toes, you know. can’t make it easy or else i would’ve had back to back dates tonight” you were done with conversation already. you just wanted to get your stuff, watch some stupid rom-com and eat a burger the size of your head. he was getting in the way with that.
“haha. can i just have my stuff?” clearly annoyed he hands you the small little baggie, as you’re about to say thank you and close to the door on his face. you notice he’s not moving at all. looking at you like a lost puppy dog that showed up at your door.
he was definitely trying to invite himself in but he didn’t know how. “if you want to come in you could just say so” attempting to be nice you give him a smile.
“it’s okay, i don’t wanna intrude especially if you have a date or something” you laugh at him, his face turning a red tone as if he said something wrong. god you feel bad.
“i’m not doing anything tonight hence why i asked you to come by but if you wanna hang for a bit be my guest” wishing you would’ve shut yourself up but it was too late to take it back. you couldn’t believe you invited him in. you’re stuck now.
no words were said as you took a step back swaying to the side to gesture him in. he seemed hesitant for a second, but he enters. taking a couple uncomfortable waddles in before stopping in his tracks to kinda get a vibe your living space
it was clean. tv turned on to a random show on netflix. couch covered with cute pillows and blankets, coffee table with weed paraphernalia neatly organized but he was more fascinated with the way you’re dressed. maroon sweatpants and grey zip up that had your high schools name on the front. no makeup. so effortlessly beautiful.
“come” patting the couch you usher him to sit next to you. opening the baggie of bud, crumbling off a piece to put in the bowl of your most precious bong. offering him the greens since he is a quest in your house.
“how sweet of you” he says giving you a over exaggerated smile making you softly hit him on the arm. it was weird having him right here. you realized you’ve never smoked with him before. you’ve never seen him in such a intimate setting. it made you feel some kind of way.
a couple hours past. you guys ended smoking and chatting as if you knew each other for years and were catching up. it felt nice even tho you were dead set on the plans you thought of originally like getting food. mmm food the munchies were starting to hit hard.
“you hungry ?” you said being so serious because there was no way you were messing around when it came to eating rn and by the look on his face he wasn’t either.
“god i thought you’d never ask” staring dead into each other yes, breaking out into a laughing fit. you both decided to make your way to the kitchen and see what there was to make. letting him do all the work of course.
you’re sat up on counter while he’s looking thru the cupboards. hoping he can find something good because at this point you don’t even remember what’s in there.
“ahh mac and cheese ?” he says excitedly holding up a box of probably soon to be expired mac and cheese. you nod in agreement pretending like you aren’t practically drooling at the thought of it.
he starts boiling the water. “why don’t you have plans tonight ? didn’t expect you to be a lonly guy” you interrupt the silence to ask the question you’ve been wondering this whole time.
“i’m not a whore like you think i am. i just sell weed to people and the flirting keeps them coming back” shocked by his answer you can’t say that’s not a solid strategy. he goes to drain the pasta before adding the rest of the stuff, handing you a bowl.
“you don’t flirt with me tho” blurting out your response, he turns towards you. looking you up and down, getting just close enough you could feel his breath on your face.
“you’re different” your face getting hotter by the second. not sure how to respond because you didn’t know if this was his tactic or genuine emotion.
“how so?” twiddling your finger together looking down a little embarrassed for asking.
“idk everyone treats me like im just some hot piece of meat that can get them their fix” he says looking down with you.“but you, you act cold towards me and i find that so hot ” you felt like you were gonna faint at his words.
“ i’ve always thought you were just an asshole with a pretty face” his cheeks turning a pale pink.
“pretty?” he inches closer to your face so you’re just inches away from touching each other lips. “yeah, so pretty it makes me mad” those were the last words said before his lips are crashing into yours.
unsure if it was the weed or the fact his lips felt so good but you kissed him back without realizing. lips moving in sync like they were made for each other.
feeling like you couldn’t catch your breath, you pull away catching a good look at his face, red and flustered. you’ve never seen anything like this before and you never wanted to forget it. pulling him by the neck to continue he picks you up walking you both over to the couch. putting you down softly. breaking the kiss.
“this okay?” he says with genuine concern on his face. hes scared. scared hes gonna mess this up.
“more than” huge smile forming on his lips, he maneuvers himself on top of you between your legs. kissing your neck making his way down to your stomach.
he unbottons your pants so plainly slow that you’re about to rip them off yourself. he kisses your pussy thru your underwear making you gasp at the sensation of his cold lips on you, mumbling a low “fuck” before bucking your hips begging for more.
“don’t be so impatient baby” the pet name making your stomach turn with lust. you had to have him. you need him now.
your bottom half now undressed he makes you wait even longer by licking and biting your plush thighs, making you squirm. “please eren”. you’ve never been so desperate especially for someone that you hated a couple hours ago.
his tongue laid its first lick down your slit. it was soft, gentle. unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, other guys were rough and thought flicking felt good. how’d he become so good you couldn’t shake that thought from your mind. were you jealous ?.
“it feels so good, please keep going” bitting your hand to hopefully quiet yourself down because you knew you were being too loud. his tongue felt like heaven, but when he slipped one of his long finger into you was when you lost your mind. there was no way you weren’t gonna start screaming his name.
“eren fuck i’m gonna cum” without any hesitation he curls his fingers up hitting a spot that made you see stars. back arching, strings of curse words fall from your mouth as you cum. you’re panting like a dog trying to regain yourself.
eren sits up wiping his face on the sleeve of his hoodie, rubbing your inner thighs till you’ve finally come back from your mind blowing orgasm.
“that was crazy” you said laughing but you heard nothing but silence from eren, he looked uncomfortable then glancing down a bit you could tell why. he was so hard that you could see him throbbing thru his pants.
“come here, let me help you” you say pushing his shoulders down till his head in laying on the arm of the couch. crawling on top of him you leaning down catching his lips once again, tasting yourself. this time the kiss was hungry. like two wild animals fighting over who was superior. you grind your hips against his clothed cock hissing at the overstimulation from cumming not too long ago.
his hands raising up under your shirt giving your nipples a couple rolls of his thumb. hiding your face in his neck, sucking here and there unknowingly leaving marks that you knew he’d get upset about later.
“do you mind?” you say playing with the zipper of his pants. he gives you a nod of consent before you’re pulling down his pants along with his boxers. it springs up as you stare at the size of his intimidatingly large cock.
“you like what you see” jokingly punching his chest you come back up so your pussy is alined with his cock, he motions you to sit up a bit and he angles the tip so it’s at your entrance, sliding down a bit it was already a huge stretch but you were determined to make it fit. both of you hissing in sync till it was fully in.
“it’s so tight” he moans grabbing your hips to slide you up and back down, slowly to not hurt you. the stretch felt so good you began to move on your own craving more of him. groans could be heard from both of you just enjoying the moment and the feeliing of being connected.
“oh im gonna cum” you whispered in his ear “im so close” you keep rocking up and down till his strong hands flip you both over so he’s on top, putting you in mating press.
“i’m close too, cum with me baby” his words thick like honey dripping its way into your ear. you pussy clenching hard trying to get that last bit of stimulation to tip over the edge.
knowing just what to do his hand snakes between you both to place a thumb on your clit. that’s exactly what you neeed before you’re moaning his name and squirming trying to get away as gush around his cock.
“you gonna let me cum in you ?” he’s panting hard but he can’t seem to focus on anything besides cumming your tight pussy.
“cum in me please” the neediness in you voice is all it takes for his hips to come to a halt as he’s pumping you full. you can feel his heart beating as he slumps down on your chest. the same awkwardness from before filling the air as you both come to your senses.
awkwardly get up putting your clothes back on, not saying a word to each other. you head to the bathroom to pee and return, sitting back on the couch packing another bowl and handing it to him. he takes a long hit. resulting in him coughing, he hands it back to you.
“guess valentine’s day wasn’t so boring this year” he manages the get out between coughs. slumping back on the couch looking at the tv watching whatever was playing.
“definitely wasn’t expecting this” your own joke making you laugh, catching his attention. eyes now on you. the silence was deadly but you didn’t have anything to say.
“i like you” he says quietly not sure if you heard him but he knows you did when he notices your face begin to burn firetruck red.
“when did you come to that conclusion?” interested in what he was gonna say because you’re sure it was an in the moment confession nothing he was feeling before today.
“ever since the first time i sold to you, you were beautiful and i never knew how to make the first move until today” your mouth hangs open because never in a million years would you have thought that the guy you despised had completely opposite feelings.
“i had no idea”
“i figured” he takes another hit from your bong before getting up grabbing his things and heading for the door “uh i gotta go, just hit me up next time you need anything”
“wait” you walk over to him, body moving for you confused as to why you got up before blurting out something you couldn’t take back.
“i like you too” coming to the conclusion that those were you feelings all along, not hatred or anger but love.
he smiles at you before leaning in to give you one last finally kiss before heading out the door.
267 notes · View notes
f1rodrigo · 2 months
Text
ᡣ𐭩 valentine's day with f1 boys ᡣ𐭩
summary: valentine's day posts celebrating love with your favorite formula one boy. featuring: lando norris, charles leclerc, and daniel ricciardo ❤︎‬ a/n: well, it's two days after valentine's i had this idea pretty late & it took me longer than expected! but here it is nonetheless! hope you enjoy! for anyone waiting on my series to continue i am so so very sorry there hasn't been an update in so long. break was busy and i feel like i haven’t not been busy since then. not sure when an update will come but i can promise you it will at some point<3.
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .°
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 892,619 others
yourusername wish i could express how much better life is with you in it. thank you for loving me i promise to keep on loving you right back, this valentine's day and all the rest. happy valentine's day my love<3
view all 3,212 comments
maxfewtrell just threw up actually
⤷ yourusername shut up you know you love us
⤷ maxfewtrell 🦗🦗🦗🦗
⤷ landonorris your jealously is showing mate
pietra.pilao awwww love you both sm
⤷ yourusername 😙😙 love u more sweet p
landonorris the last photo... was that necessary
⤷ yourusername absolutely
landonorris loving you is the easiest thing i've ever done
⤷ user1 just gonna walk into an open flame don't mind me
landonorris happy valentine's day baby i love you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much
⤷ yourusername i don't think that so was long enough :/
⤷ landonorris sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much
⤷ yourusername i guess that'll do
⤷ user2 literally how could you not love them
riabish the cutest couple ever 🫶🏻
⤷ yourusername ria!!! ily
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .°
yourusername added to their story
Tumblr media
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .°
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, and 671,910 others
yourusername no doubt that i am the luckiest girl in the world. to love you is the greatest joy of my life. happy valentine's day charles, i love you so much 🫂
view all 2,109 comments
charles_leclerc mon amour, i am the lucky one. i love you even more. happy valentine's 😙
⤷ user1 "i love you even more" hahahahaa when i take a long walk off a short pier than what
⤷ user2 real 🫠
charles_leclerc the last slide........
⤷ yourusername am i not allowed to profess my love for my boyfriend
⤷ charles_leclerc well when you put it like that
⤷ yourusername thinking of getting it printed on a shirt tbh, new race day fit
⤷ charles_leclerc now let's not get ahead of ourselves.....
⤷ yourusername too late, arriving in a week 🥰
⤷ user3 don't be shy share with the rest of us......
⤷ user4 omg new charles merch just dropped
user5 literally name a hotter couple....... you can't
lewishamilton ❤️❤️❤️❤️
⤷ yourusername hope you enjoyed your valentines lewis<3
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .°
yourusername added to their story
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .°
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by danielricciardo and 1,291,819 others
yourusername danny, you make everyday feel like valentine's day. you never, and i mean never fail to make me smile. to know you is to love you. let's just do this forever ok? 💌
view all 2,871 comments
danielricciardo yn, forever isn't nearly enough. i love you so much happy valentine's💖
⤷ user1 "forever isn't nearly enough" i'm choking on my tears
danielricciardo have to say i've never looked better than in that last photo
⤷ yourusername have to say i absolutely agree
maxverstappen1 happy valentine's day @danielricciardo
⤷ yourusername MAX STOP TRYING TO STEAL MY MAN
⤷ maxverstappen1 can't steal what was mine first 😁
⤷ danielricciardo ladies, ladies there's enough of me to go around
⤷ maxverstappen1 who are you calling a lady-
⤷ user2 glad to know maxiel is alive and well
⤷ user3 PLS i know yn is tired of both their dumbasses
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .°
yourusername added to their story
Tumblr media
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .°
find my sweet relief series here!
397 notes · View notes
bluecoffeebeanz · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Prince King Aemond
I was supposed to post this on valentines day but guess better late than never :3
2K notes · View notes
partycatty · 2 months
Text
based off of our lovely @igotcaged 's post here
older!johnny cage > can't get enough
johnny realizes just how much he adores you before a date night
notes: this is so fluffy i might throw up, also why are his boobs so big
[ masterlist ]
Tumblr media
it was unlike the two of you to have a night off with a husband that's entire life is devoted to saving the world and making them smile at the same time. if it wasn't shinnok or a timeline disturbance, it was ninja mime or citizen cage. you worked in an office, a higher up that needed to be around or you swore the skyscraper's foundations would crumble. both of you held together your own worlds, but it was near valentine's day when you both get the opportunity to go home and get some rest.
it was cassie that ushered johnny out of his office with his bag full of belongings. she was tired of seeing her old man grovel and train like a military man, and wanted him to be a good husband to her step-parent, you. your own vice president insisted you go home after not getting the last few holidays with your family.
in johnny's typical hollywood style, he wanted to take you out on a date. usually, he was the type of man to just settle for something low key, like an at-home steak dinner or a walk in the park, but he missed you more than anything at the moment. so, he managed to convince you to wear something pretty, and he'd clean up all the same.
you pull and tug at the dress you settled on, a sleek beige dress that settled nicely around your ankles. so used to suit jackets and pencil skirts, you felt somewhat foreign.
johnny walks into the shared bedroom, tugging at his sleeves, but that all stopped when he got a good look at you.
"well god damn."
you twirl around to meet your husband's eyes. he cleaned up nicely too. a smooth pair of beige dress pants accompanying a brown button-up. his arms dropped to his sides as he admired you, and you could see in his eyes that he had fallen in love with you all over again. sure, you always dressed nicely, but johnny was reminded of how gorgeous you looked when you dolled yourself up, especially in the jewelry and dresses he had bought you over the years.
"kind of reminds you of our wedding day, doesn't it?" his voice is tender. you don't recall the last time he voice wasn't strained from spewing commands or taking business calls.
"that's probably the last time we dressed up like this," you reply teasingly, taking one of his arms in your hands and folding his sleeve for him, a task that he long abandoned since landing his gaze on you. "you remember that?"
"every day," his eyes are fixed on your small hands holding his large arm. he stands still, as if he'd startle you from moving. "i have our photo at the altar in my wallet. don't know if i ever told you that."
"you didn't," you grin down, buttoning his sleeve and patting his now bare forearm. "but i could have guessed."
as you reach for his other arm to fold his sleeve, his hand meets yours. with fluttering eyelashes, he places long, sweet kisses on each of your knuckles.
"i love you," he mutters into the back of your hand, placing another kiss and holding his lips there.
"you make me so happy," his hand twists your arm, giving him access to your wrist, where another kiss lands.
"okay, big guy," you giggle, trying to move away. "i love you too, but we'll be late."
johnny ignores your point and spins you around. he wraps one arm around your waist, trapping you against his front. you look in the mirror to determine his intentions, but his eyes are fixed on you. he holds your arm out for you and kisses the backside of your hand again. his mouth glides up, reaching your elbow.
"i see what's going on here," you smirk. "are you going all gomez on me?"
"let me have this," he mumbles again, kissing all up your upper arm until he reaches your bare shoulder, where he bites you playfully. of course, he doesn't bite hard enough for people to see as much as he'd love to.
"johnnyyy—" you whine-giggle out when his nose brushes against the flesh of your neck. "you're tickling me, don't be surprised if i kick you." johnny breathes in your perfume, rubbing the tip of his nose up and down your neck, all the while peppering kisses along the exposed skin. in between every kiss, there's a sweet phrase or two.
"sweet girl." your shoulder.
"my one and only." your collarbone.
"my wife." your jawline.
"i'm so lucky." your ear.
"my beloved." your cheek.
"you look so good." the corner of your lips.
having enough of his game, you twirl around and wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him in a firm but chaste kiss. when you pull away, he's grinning sleepily, and you giggle at your lipstick now transferred onto his lips.
"you might wanna wipe your mouth before we leave," you suggest with a laugh.
"why? not my shade?" johnny replies jokingly, leaning into the mirror to inspect the damage. "ah, you're right. it suits you better."
even after all these years, after everything he's been through, it still warms you inside that his youthful, loving side peeks its head around the corner at the best of times. you couldn't ask for a better husband.
232 notes · View notes
farfromstrange · 2 months
Text
Halloween | Matt Murdock x F!Reader
PART 5 of The Vault
Tumblr media
See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Matt hasn't been paying attention to you lately. So, on Halloween, you decide to try and get his attention in a way he can't refuse.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), Dom!Matt, choking, praise, degradation, unprotected p in v, no foreplay, slight orgasm control, mentions of oral sex, use of "good girl", Matt looks like a bore in the beginning, there is a stranger who can't take a hint, a very common Halloween costume, protective!Matt, cliché tropes
Word Count: 4.7k
A/n: This is... well, let's just say that you can tell that it was written a while back and then rewritten in parts by Me today because the smut lacked depth, BUT I do kind of like it. It's a Halloween fic, so apologies about that. For this, I got inspired when I bought my "I'm Not Daredevil" sweater in 2022. Plus some general horny thoughts during my first Kinktober on Tumblr that I didn't participate in (2022). I hope you like it anyway.
Tumblr media
He hasn’t paid enough attention to you lately.
Between work and the nights spent protecting the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, he is hardly home. He tries to be, but he fails almost every time. The bed is starting to grow colder, and his scent lingers only half-heartedly in the atmosphere. You miss him. You miss his touch, his skin, his voice but most importantly, you miss the spark. It has been two weeks of Matt being slumped, but that is more than enough to drive you crazy.
When it gets colder outside, you need your boyfriend by your side, to hold you and cherish you like he usually would. You miss being desired by someone. You miss being the center of his world. Not that you want him to ignore his responsibilities forever, but just for a few hours, you want him to yourself wholeheartedly. Missing him when he isn’t gone is the worst feeling, and it often leads to tensions in your relationship. 
Matt can be so selfless that it sometimes starts to look and feel like he is being selfish by going after what he deems to be right. He doesn’t realize it though, not until he is hit over the head with it and suffers a concussion.
As Halloween rolls around the corner, having an absent boyfriend grows into a problem you can no longer ignore. And you don’t want to, either.
Karen decided to throw a party, and she sent out invites to her closest friends months ago to make sure everyone could somehow fit it into their schedules. She has invited everyone she knows and encouraged those to bring their friends as plus ones. Costumes are mandatory.
Halloween used to be your favorite holiday, but this time, you aren’t even sure if you can make it to the party without getting pitiful glances because your plus one has to be busy—the plus one that Karen also invited separately because he is her colleague and friend. 
Matt doesn’t seem to care much about Halloween, especially not this party. Even though it’s not only important to Karen but to you, he has expressed how much he doesn’t want to go because he can’t neglect his Daredevil duties for one night. Not right now. 
When you reminded him a few weeks ago, he told you that the 31st of October is boring and overrated, kissed you, and then you both went to bed. 
You decided that night that it was time to use a different set of weapons. If Matt knew, he would go crazy, but that is what you aim for. You want him to go crazy. Crazy for you. 
The first step of your plan sounds easier than it is: convince him to come with you.
“You going to Karen’s party?” he asks you one evening before going out into the night.
You answer curtly, “Yeah.”
“Got a costume?”
“You know I do.”
His lips curl into a smirk. “Are you going to let me feel it? Or do you want me to guess?” 
“I want you to come with me.” You help zip his Daredevil suit back up. “I want you to put the mask down and come with me. Karen invited the both of us,” you say. “She’s gonna be asking questions.”
If it’s the disappointed cadence of your voice or the fact that he’s curious about what you’re going to wear, you’re not sure, but when he suddenly agrees, you’re taken aback. “I’ll join you guys later,” he murmurs. “Right now–“
Your excitement falls flat again. “The city needs you. Yeah, I know.” 
You’re starting to grow sick and tired of that sentence. He doesn’t deserve this. He is trying his best, and you act like a needy child. You’re angry while he is saving lives and making sure the streets are a little safer. But you stood by for weeks without complaining once that you felt a bit neglected. You always show him unwavering support. Even now, you want nothing more than for him to do what he needs to do, but you do so with a bitter aftertaste. And a lot of misplaced jealousy. 
Not having him close is torture. You need him. Even dressed in protective red leather, he looks too hot to handle, and that makes you crave him even more.
You brush off the ache in your core and focus on getting him dressed for the night. You don’t want him to get hurt.
“You going to wear the costume?” you ask.  
He cocks an eyebrow. “You mean the sweater that says ‘I’m not Daredevil?’”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, it’s a joke only the four of us will understand. It’s perfect!”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says, his unfocused eyes darting up toward the ceiling. “I just… How about I just put a suit on and say I’m James Bond?”
“Please?” You wrap your arms around his neck. 
He sighs warily in response. “Will you tell me what your costume is?”
“No,” you answer plainly.
That’s the second part of your plan; wear the most revealing costume you could wear, and drive him crazy when he does appear at the party and hears you mingling. When he smells your bare skin, and when he realizes that you’re getting all the attention he should be giving you. 
“Please,” he copies your pleading tone, lips pursed into a frustrated pout. The conflict in his eyes is not yet covered by the red mask. 
He’s contemplating. For a moment, he considers staying. He wants to spend time with you; he wants to go to the party and have fun. You love Halloween and he would do anything to make you happy, but he can’t. The city is busier than usual. Louder. More intense. His ears can’t seem to catch a break. He tries to focus on you, to tune out the noise, but he fails miserably every damn time.
He doesn’t sleep, not much, and he barely eats anymore because he drowns himself in work so deeply that he forgets his basic needs. He just needs it all to stop. He has to go out to get some semblance of relief—to fight, to get his fists bloody, and come home exhausted enough to get a few hours of shut-eye before the cycle inevitably repeats itself.
It has been like this for weeks now. He is always overstimulated, always overworked; he can’t even kiss you sometimes because the thought alone burns his skin. It hurts that much.
He isn’t going to stop. You know that. You understand, but even the devil’s advocate grows tired sometimes. 
You’re so tired of the distance. You are so tired of him not talking to you when something is bothering him, and you’re tired of having to pretend it doesn’t bother you. 
Still, neither of you want to start the conversation. It’s a series of petty attempts to gain attention, a constant tiptoeing around each other until one of you caves. 
You peck his lips. “You come to the party, you find out,” you say. “You don’t, I guess I’m showing all of this ass for nothing.”
His ears perk up. “You’re what?” 
“Nothing,” you wave him off. 
“No, what did you just say?”
“I said you should come to the party.”
“After that. Is it—I swear to God if you’re wearing something short…”
“Then what? You gonna drag me home and spank me?” You scoff, trying your best to hide the fact that this is exactly what you want him to do.
The silk of your dressing gown hits the floor. It’s time to play even dirtier than before. Your plan is made to be adaptable, after all.
Matt stops breathing. “This isn’t fair,” he growls.
You smirk. “You should go.”
“You’re torturing me, you know that?”
“You decided to go out tonight,” you counter.
“Because I have to.”
“Do you?”
He curses under his breath, “Fuck. Okay, whatever game you’re playing, sweetheart, I need you to stop.”
You’re nowhere near satisfied. In all of your naked glory, you take a step forward. “Or what?” 
“Or,” he says, and his voice lowers barely above a dangerous whisper, “I’ll stuff your cunt with my fingers until you’re begging me to come. And then, just when you’re about to, I’ll pull away and leave you to take care of it yourself because I know you won’t be able to come without my help. That’s what I’m gonna do if you keep teasing me like that.”
Your jaw drops. You’ve got him right there, with his teeth buried in the hook, but he knows that if he lets the trap fall shut, you win. This isn’t just a desperate attempt at getting his attention anymore—you’ve got that now. This is turning into a game. 
Matt smirks, hearing the uptick of your heartbeat. He thinks he’s so smart. Reaching out, he cups your bare pussy with his rough palm, eliciting a sweet moan out of your mouth that shoots right to his cock. “Already so fucking wet for me,” he purrs. 
His touch feels like electroshocks shooting right into your bloodstream. It has been way too long, and you’re already burning for him before you can even fight back.
You want to beg him to keep going, but as quickly as he has put his hands on you, he retreats again. 
Matt marvels at the feeling of your slick between his thick fingers. He takes a whiff. Your arousal is so prominent in the air that his face contorts in agony. And then, he slides the digit into his mouth. Your distinctive taste explodes on his taste buds, and he moans, “Delicious.”
The show he’s giving you is utterly erotic, and it takes everything in you not to drop to your knees and take his aching cock out of his suit. 
Pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, he whispers, “I’ll see you later.” 
He’s gone before you can protest.
He’s not the only one who has tricks up his sleeves though, and you’re more than ready to seek your revenge later tonight and finally get what you so deeply crave from him. He has to let go eventually, and he has to pay attention to you for longer than five minutes. You both need it.
Dressed in your costume and with a bottle of liquor, you make your way to Karen’s apartment. You’re determined to make this night last. Well, at least long enough for Matt to arrive, and then it’s showtime. 
Your friend greets you with a welcoming hug. Her small living space is already crowded, and you make your way through toward the table with the drinks. You can feel several eyes on you. Without your coat on, the costume you’re wearing leaves little to the imagination. You wonder if Matt can smell you across the city, wherever he may be right now. Maybe he does, and maybe he can tell what the thought of him is doing to you. Maybe he can tell that this is exciting you and he will cut his patrol short tonight. But you know he isn’t paying attention to you. He only does so when he fears that you’re in danger.
“And who are you supposed to be?” a low voice asks beside you.
You turn to find a tall guy dressed as a werewolf approaching the punchbowl to your right. 
“The tag said ‘slutty witch’,” you answer. “But I find the term a bit… problematic, so I’m a witch who likes to wear very short clothes on very cold days.”
He chuckles. Underneath his makeup and the fake fur, you can’t make out his features, but it’s not like you care anyway. “Well,” he says, “you’re a very beautiful witch.”
Oh, now he’s flirting with you. 
Your plan for tonight includes mingling to draw attention to you and make Matt jealous when he gets here, not flirting with strangers. You would never do that to Matt. You also don’t feel the need to flirt with anyone who isn’t your boyfriend, even though the attention does make you blush for a moment— mostly out of discomfort. 
You’re not interested in this man. Werewolves are only your type when they’re fictional, and even then you will always prefer your devil over hairy mythological creatures. 
You take a sip of your drink. “I accept the compliment,” you say. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the man answers. He takes another step toward you. “Are you here alone?”
You take a step back. “Yes, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Playing hardball, huh?”
“No, actually, I’m just not interested.” 
“Nah, I don’t believe that. Is it another guy? It’s a guy, right? It has to be a guy.”
You glare at him. “Why? Because you’re so hot and irresistible and can’t take no for an answer?” Your voice drips with sarcasm. 
He leans toward you, and he’s getting dangerously close to your personal space. “You think I’m hot. You said it,” he says. 
Thankfully, he turns around to pour himself a cup of punch before touching you against your will. You wouldn’t hesitate to snap his neck like a twig. 
Your heart is pounding as the adrenaline mixes with fury in your veins. You forget about Matt and the fact that you dressed like this for him. He will appreciate it, and his opinion matters most to you. You just hope that this guy will leave it be so you can join your friends on the other side of the room.
“No offense, dude,” you tighten your grip around your cup, “but I think I’d rather be anywhere but here.”
Karen and Foggy are mingling somewhere, and you know that you’re definitely safe with them. 
The werewolf smirks. “Can I come?” 
Before you can tell him off, the very thing you thought wouldn’t happen happens. 
“I believe the lady said she’s not interested,” Matt pipes up behind you.
So he was listening to you from across the city. His locked jaw is an indication that he is fuming inside. More than fuming. He’s about to explode.
Oh fuck. 
He appears next to you, and one look at him makes you beam. He is wearing the red sweater with the big, white “I’m Not Daredevil” written on it. He even put on the antlers. 
The werewolf takes a good look at him when he wraps his arm around your waist, and he finally retreats. “She’s all yours,” he says. 
“Yeah, she is,” says Matt. You can’t see his eyes, but the rest of his face is expressive enough to give the other man a faint idea of what he is capable of. As innocent as he may look, he isn’t.
There’s a certain dominance he carries that could make any grown human being weak in their knees. You are the only one who would voluntarily do so and thank him, and beg him for more. 
Once the werewolf has disappeared, Matt turns you toward him. His feral demeanor slips for just a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. He cradles your face in his hand, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, and you once again find yourself on fire.
For you, he put the costume on. For you, he came. And everything you have been struggling with these past weeks while he was absent feels so stupid now because he has been trying from the start, you just didn’t want to see it because you were so upset and needy. 
You nod weakly, leaning into his touch. “He was just…weird,” you murmur. Reaching out, you touch his sweater. “You’re wearing the costume.”
Matt shows the faintest hint of a smile before it completely fades from his face again.
“Yeah,” his answer is breathless. “But what the fuck are you wearing?” His hand slips from your waist to your exposed thighs with a low growl. A shiver ripples through him.
“A costume.”
He brushes over your ass, and there is hardly anything there to cover the fishnets you’re wearing. If he grips a little tighter, he will hold your flesh in his hands. Just a little lower and he will touch your wet cunt. Your scent is overwhelming, and the feeling of your skin in the crowded room makes all the lights in his brain go dark as they burst. He’s already so hard in his jeans. 
“Was this your plan all along?” he asks. His grip on your cheek tightens, and the other hand grabs your ass. “Get me to come with you just to hear your thighs brush against each other? To smell how wet you are with barely any fabric covering your pussy? Did you want me to bend you over in front of everyone just so I’ll touch you? Are you that desperate?”
You’re in trouble. Big, big trouble—and it’s exactly what you wanted. To be fair, it stands in a slightly different light now, but it’s Halloween. Things always go differently than planned on Halloween.
You swallow thickly, fluttering your lashes at him as innocently as you can. “You’ve been so busy,” you confess, “and I just missed you. I missed you so much, baby. I had to do something to get your attention.”
He bares his teeth. Those gorgeous teeth behind those gorgeously plump lips. You can only imagine them on yours. You can only imagine what it will feel like to have him between your thighs now, wildly licking at your slick folds while thrusting his skilled fingers in and out of your cunt. God, you want that. You need it. The thought alone is enough to make your thighs clench, and you cross them. You’re positively dripping. 
“Listen to me,” he demands, and his grip moves to your chin. “You’re going to finish that drink, alright? You’re gonna drink up, you’re gonna say goodbye to Foggy and Karen, and then we’re going to get out of here so I can fuck that feeling of inadequacy right out of that beautiful head of yours. Are we clear?”
You stare into your reflection in his glasses. The blood is rushing in your cheeks. You don’t trust your voice; all you can do is nod.
“Good girl.” His hand drops from your face. 
You’re shaking. Your knees are weak, and your legs feel like jelly. You breathe and you live solely for him. He has a power over you that is almost embarrassing to admit to. 
When you try to down the rest of your punch in one gulp, Matt stops you. By slowing you down, he’s teasing you. You suppose that you deserve it, but you’re not sure how much longer you can wait. 
It takes an agonizing while for you to finish your drink, say goodbye to your friends, and call a cab. Matt keeps his hands to himself. It’s so unlike him, but it gives you an idea of what’s to come, and the anticipation is killing you.
The door to his apartment hasn’t even fully shut behind you when he flips you around and pushes you against the wall, chest first. He does it with such force that your palms burn upon landing. You gasp.
“You’ve been teasing me all night,” he rasps into your ear. “I put this costume on for you. To be nice. If I’d known you would make it your mission to make my dick hard in front of dozens of people, I would have fucked you before going out tonight.”
You know that he wouldn’t have, but the thought still sends shivers down your spine. Not a single coherent thought is left in your mind.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you break off into a moan.
Your tights are torn in two by his eager hands, and you moan when he pulls you back against his hard cock. You can feel his straining against your pants against your now bare skin. You want to reach out and touch him, but he won’t let you. 
And then, his palm lands flat on your bare ass cheek. He doesn’t even bother to take the rest of the costume off.
“You didn’t mean to?” he asks. “Are you sure about that?” 
You buck your hips. His dark chuckle grazes your ear. 
“Answer me, sweetheart.”
“I meant to,” you cry out when his hand comes back down on your red ass cheek. It stings, but the pain shoots straight to your middle where it settles in your needy core. “And I don’t regret it.”
“That’s better.” 
“Please.” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but this aching emptiness is driving you crazy. You need his cock, and it’s becoming pathetically obvious.
Matt gives your backside another slap before pressing you further against the wall. “Don’t ever doubt that you’re the most important thing in the world to me,” he says. “But slutty witch? You know what that does to me?”
You can’t help but smirk. “Yeah.”
He tears the underwear under your skirt in two. 
“If you want to be a slutty witch,” he presses his lips to your ear, “then act like it.”
Without a warning, without preparation, he thrusts into you. Your lips part in a lustful moan. 
Matt is relentless. One arm wraps around you, the other around your throat. He thrusts his hips upward, filling you to the brim with his cock. He pulls out just enough to move past your G-spot and directs the tip of his cock toward that spongy spot that makes you see stars. 
His name tumbles from your lips like a mantra. Matt, Matt, Matt… 
Your chest deflates. The corset of your costume is so tight, you can’t breathe. Your nipples ache underneath the fabric. They want to be free. They want to be touched. 
“Matt,” you beg. 
He doesn’t hesitate to open the ties at the front, pulling you free from the metal cage. 
The air gets knocked out of your lungs. He tightens his grip, locking the oxygen in your windpipe. Skin slaps against skin, moans fill the air scented with the stench of sex and every time his cock penetrates your tight walls, he pushes you further to the edge of the precipice.
From around your waist, he moves his arm down and his hand to your pussy. He catches your clit with precision. His thrusts speed up. They hit deeper and harder, and your eyes roll back into your head.
Matt, Matt, Matt…
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunts. “Such a good little slutty witch for me, sweetheart. Push back against me.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You move your hips back to meet his thrusts. He lets out a moan of his own, digging his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.
“That’s it.” He rubs in rapid circles over your clit. Your body is begging for a release.
The wall feels cold against your heated forehead. His fingers tighten around your throat again, causing you to clench around his cock. He twitches. You can feel every desperate drag of him inside of you, and he only keeps on giving you more, and more, and…
Your hand finds his against against the wall. The warning of your impending orgasm gets lost, but he doesn’t need verbal confirmation for something that he can feel every time he thrusts into the walls of your cunt that are hugging him so tightly, he is holding on by a thread. 
As if to distract himself, Matt lands another harsh slap against your bottom. “Who do you belong to?” he asks, feeling the flesh jiggle under his touch. 
You moan. “You, Matthew. Only you!”
Your screams of pleasure are music to his ears. He repeats the motion of his hand. You will have imprints on your skin tomorrow, and he will proudly feel them before you have to go to work. Leaving his mark on you is an exciting thought.
His balls tighten. He won’t last much longer if you keep squeezing him like that—if those thoughts keep popping into his head, and he barely manages to keep himself from coming right then and there, coming deep inside of you and fucking his cum into you until you#re overflowing. 
The pain from the sloppy spanking—he isn’t capable of seriously hurting you—floods your system and your pussy at the same time, amplifying the lewd noise echoing in his otherwise silent apartment. With the added wetness, the circles he rubs over your clit with his calloused fingers become impossibly faster. The sensitive bundle of nerves starts to scream; you can barely take it anymore, but you need his permission to come. In this scene, at least. You must always wait for his permission when he punishes you like this. 
You have a safe word for a reason, but you’re too blissed out to care. You love what he’s doing to you. You love how it feels, and you love how well the little pain he introduces you to every time mixes with the pleasure that consumes you whole. 
He buries his nose in your neck. You smell of sweat, salt, and his shampoo. It makes you feel better, you told him. To him, it’s a sensory dream. You complete him, and your scent complements him in ways he doesn’t fully understand. All Matt knows is that it makes him feel good, and not just because he gets a little possessive sometimes. It’s a warmth that runs deeper than the words of the English language could describe.
Again, he flicks your clit. “I want you to come,” he finally says the five words you have been waiting for. “I want you to come all over my cock, and I want you to scream my name so this entire city knows who’s taking care of you.”
Your pussy clenches around him again, and with a shout, you come undone. Your legs shake as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, tearing down your walls. You spasm, and you cry out his name. No feeling could ever be as powerful as the orgasms that Matt manages to give you. They are like tsunamis, and they know no mercy. They are a force of nature that no one can control. You know it will happen, but you never know the force of it until it happens. And every time it does, you feel like you’re floating in a world far from home where only he, his godly hands, and his cock exist. 
Matt fills you with his cum after a few more sloppy thrusts. He comes hard, and it doesn’t seem to stop for quite a while. He’s leaking onto your thighs at this point, but the stickiness is only another reminder of him, and it makes you feel warm inside. 
With your breathing slowed to a more acceptable pace, you allow yourself to lean back against him. “Wow,” you mumble. 
He catches some of his cum from the inside of your thigh. “Yeah,” he says. “Wow.”
You greedily open your mouth. The salty essence of him spreads over your tongue. He’s the only man whose taste you would carry with you proudly for days. 
The kiss Matt delivers to your cheek is sweet. 
“Did you like my—” 
He cuts you off, “Yeah. Too much.”
“But it did work,” you say. 
“You could’ve just talked to me.” 
You look over your shoulder, you notice that he’s still wearing his costume, minus the glasses. His hazel eyes are full of hurt. Shame. Guilt.
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d listen.”
“I always listen,” he says. “Even when you think I don’t.”
You whimper at the loss of his cock when he pulls out. Matt doesn’t turn you around right away, and for a split second, you fear that this will turn into an argument. 
Instead, he sweeps you up into his arms.
“Don’t disappear on me again,” the plea is whispered directly into his ear.
His hold on you tightens, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. “I won’t.”
“Thank you.”
“I love you.” The sincerity in his voice lights the candle in your soul that threatened to go out. 
You answer without missing a beat, “I love you too.”
“Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
Matt throws you down on the mattress. “Keep the costume.”
Halloween might just become his favorite holiday, after all. 
Tumblr media
Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama
223 notes · View notes
avastrasposts · 3 months
Text
A Baker's Dozen - Eleven**
A collection of fun and fluffy one shots set in the same bakery. Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stories, twelve recipes.
Tumblr media
Hello!
The second to last visitor to the bakery is here and I can hardly believe it! Eleven weeks of Pedro boys have flown past and I've had so much fun with them!
So before we get started with number eleven, this series was meant to be all fluff, but then this Pedro boy arrived and just really got out of hand and I had nothing to do with it, he just took over!
So I had to ask my friend @morallyinept if I could use her very handy Scoville Smut Rating to issue some warnings. Thank you, Jett!
Series Master List
This chapter is rated:
🌶 - "Don't hurt me, cadejo." 
Scoville Level 15,000. The Donis Cadejo Hot Sauce. (Buy the sauce here) The story contains mildly spicy smut. Tingles left on your tongue.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
The week’s been slower than usual, as it always is in February, post-holiday blues setting in, everyone trying to be extra healthy and save some money. No time to be indulging in sweet things. Your shop does fine though, planning and prepping for Valentine’s Day and the upcoming wedding season. 
But the slower hours in the shop makes you take note of the black car that’s been parked across the street all day. Nothing odd about that, but there’s also been someone sitting in the car all day. You’ve been glancing over as you go about your business, studying the man behind the wheel as he makes notes and phone calls, focused on something further down the street, out of your view. From the way he’s dressed, a crisp, well ironed, pale blue shirt, you’re guessing he’s an agent for some agency, or maybe a very well dressed private eye. He’s not doing a very good job though, he sticks out like a sore thumb on this street of small businesses. When he glances over at you just before noon, you give him a quick smile, to hide the fact that you’ve been staring at the way he’s been rubbing his large hand over his chin for the past five minutes. He locks eyes with you, surprise flitting across his face, before he gives you a crooked smile in return. 
This is the beginning of a dance; you glance over to find him looking at you rather than the street in front of him, you raise your eyebrows in challenge and he seems to chuckle, looking away. You study his strong nose, the dark curls brushing over his forehead as he makes more notes, and he catches you staring when he looks over, one eyebrow arching in a questioning look and you shrug with a smile, going back to the cake you’re decorating. 
It’s late in the afternoon when you notice movement in the street, a second car parking behind the first and a man getting out and walking over to the first car. Quick words are exchanged, you steal glances from the corner of your eye as you finish up an order for tomorrow. Bending down to put the order away, you hear the bell on your front door chime. 
“Hi, I thought I’d stop by and say hello properly,” the man from the car is standing in front of the counter with a small smile as you straighten up. 
“Hi,” you say, returning his smile as you take the chance to get a better look at him for the first time. He’s taller than you expected, and broad, so much broader than the side view you’ve had all day indicated. The light blue dress shirt is stretching over his shoulders and arms and you immediately decide that he must be an agent, no private eye is ever this fit, not that you have much experience, but still. 
“I just wanted to introduce myself and explain what I’m doing,” the man says, nodding over at his car on the other side of the street, “And I hope I can count on your discretion too.”
“Uuhmm, sure,” you say, looking at him as he pulls a badge from the pocket of his suit trousers, “I was kinda assuming that you’re on some sort of stake out.” 
“That obvious, huh?” the man chuckles, showing you his ID.
“Yeah, your sleek car and nice shirt gave it away a little,” you smile, “and the way you sat out there all day, I’m pretty sure every business owner on the street has spotted you.” 
“I’ll need to fix that for tomorrow then,” he smiles, “I’m special agent Dave York, I’m with the CIA, and we’ve got surveillance on an apartment further down the street. I can’t tell you what it’s about but you don’t have to worry, it’s nothing dangerous for the neighborhood.” 
“That’s good to know,” you reply, “And you’re welcome in for coffee or something to snack on whenever you want,” you thumb at the coffee machine behind you, “I’d offer delivery service but that might be a little bit too obvious.” 
He chuckles at that and you notice the dimple on his clean shaven cheek, a slight five o’clock shadow indicating that it’s been a while since he got up and shaved this morning. 
“I’d love a coffee right now, if you don’t mind,” he says and you point at the menu. 
“What’ll it be? 
“The dark roast, black, please,” he says, “You’ve got a good selection.”
“Thanks, people mainly buy bread and cakes, the coffee machine is mainly for me and a handful of regulars who like good coffee, we like trying different beans and roasts,” you throw him a smile over your shoulder as you prepare his coffee to go. 
“I’ll have to become a regular then, keep your coffee business going,” he taps his card on the machine as you hand him the cup. 
“I just realized I know who you are,” you say, the penny finally dropping, “One of my regulars, Mrs Levinson, knows your mom. Mrs Levinson bought a Lemon Meringue Pie for her a while back.” 
“Oh yeah, those two are as thick as thieves, always trying to set me up on blind dates,” he chuckles, taking a sip of the coffee, “I’ve been blaming my workload to avoid them." He raises the cup to you with a smile, “Great coffee, I’ll definitely come back."
“If I don’t spot you, I’ll know you’ve done a better job of hiding,” you tell him and he laughs, giving you a cheesy thumbs up as he leaves.
You watch him take long strides across the street to his car, the coffee still in his hand, and just as he gets in the car, he turns and looks back at you, a smile cracking across his face as he raises his hand in a wave. 
You do spot him the next day, but you are keeping an eye out for him, glancing out to see if he’s arrived. He parks a different car across the street this time, a beat up, rusty looking banger, and he’s in a ratty looking t-shirt and a beanie pulled low over his forehead. Much less ‘agent on a stakeout’ this time, but you still glance over at him from time to time, far too often in fact. And you bite back a smile when you catch him glancing over at you too, catching your eye on a few occasions as he winks. 
Half way through the day he’s relieved, and he steps out of his car, coming over to the bakery again. 
“Hi,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he pulls off his beanie, “Did I blend in better today?” 
“Yeah, better,” you smile back at him as he comes up to the counter, “The distressed t-shirt was a good choice.” 
“I had to dig it out from the bottom of some box left over from when I moved,” he holds up the front of it and studies the suspicious looking stain on the front, “I swear this is not my usual casual look.” 
Holding up the front has resulted in the hem of the t-shirt lifting up over the edge of his pants and you can’t help but glance down as he flashes a few inches of skin, his sweat pants sitting low on his hips. The trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the waistband has you momentarily distracted as you follow it down to- 
“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, snapping your eyes back up to his, but not before he notices, giving you a small smirk, “NIce sweatpants.” 
“Thanks,” he chuckles, “not as old as the t-shirt, but still not my best look, I promise.”
“I don’t mind that much,” you smirk back and he flashes a crooked grin, his eyebrow cocked, before he looks up at the coffee menu behind you and tilts his head to the side.
“What do you recommend today? I’m feeling adventurous,” he says, looking down at you again with a smile, “blame the sweatpants.” 
“A single espresso shot vanilla hazelnut latte with salted caramel and whipped cream on top? I usually add some cookie crumbles too,” you say and Dave’s face falls, his eyebrows pulling together in a concerned look. 
“Ah…uhh…” he stutters, rubbing his hand over his jaw, clearly looking for a polite way to decline your suggestion and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at his panic, but he catches the mirth in your eyes. 
“Holy shit, you’re kidding,” he gasps out, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow as you start giggling. 
“Sorry, I had to check if you’re serious about your coffee,” you wink at him as he shakes his head and puffs a relieved breath. 
“Had me worried,” he says, “I thought I’d have to drink one of those to be allowed to stay a regular.” 
“No, I think I’d have to kick you out if you did order one of those,” you smile, picking up the bag of new beans that just arrived, “Here, smell these, I just got them so I haven’t even tried them yet.” 
Dave takes a deep breath and nods with a satisfied look, “That’s nice, can I try that?” 
“Sure, I’ll make us one each. Single or double?” 
“Double, please, this stake out thing is kicking my ass,” he says, leaning against the counter as you start the process of grinding the beans. 
“Do you want some cake or something else too?” you ask, nodding at your selection. 
“No, I’m good,” he says, “It all looks really good, but not today.” He does let his eyes drift over the cakes on display though and you smile to yourself, you know the type, sooner or later he’ll cave and get something as a treat no matter how strong his resolve it. 
“Here you go,” you say, passing him his espresso, in a cup this time, “let me know what you think, if it’s good I might give it a permanent spot on the menu.” 
You both take a few sips of the coffee in silence, humming at the flavors. 
“It’s good,” Dave finally says, “Really good, I wouldn’t complain if it was a regular on the menu.” 
“I agree, I’m going to order more,” you reply, draining the cup as he pulls his wallet out of his pants. 
“Let me pay for both coffees,” he says, holding out his card, “as a thank you, for letting me come in and disturb you.” 
“You’re not disturbing, Dave,” you smile, “you can come in whenever you want.” 
“Even if I’m not on a stake out?” he asks, a small smile playing around his mouth and you feel your cheeks heat up. 
“Especially when you’re not on a stake out,” you smile back and his dimple makes an appearance as his smile widens. 
“I’ll remember that,” he says, tapping his card to pay for both coffees, “I’ll see you tomorrow though, more stake out.” 
“See you tomorrow,” you say, returning the wave he gives you as he leaves. 
He’s back the next morning, already sitting in the car as you come out into the shop to open up for the day. He looks tired, yawning big and rubbing his hand over his eyes as he leans his head against the headrest. You glance over at him while you work and serve the small morning crowd, but he doesn’t look back at you. Saying goodbye to the last customer you look over at the car again, Dave’s head is flopped to the side, mouth hanging open and eyes closed, sound asleep. The sight is adorable, the big CIA agent clearly exhausted if he’s passed out on the job. You grab your travel mug, the one you keep filled with coffee through the morning, and give it a quick clean. Filling it up with a triple espresso shot from the beans you’d had with him yesterday, you screw on the top and exit the shop. He stirs as your shoes scuff over the asphalt, jerking up as you lightly tap the window. 
“Hey, want some coffee?” you ask, holding up the travel mug and he gives you such a look of relief and gratitude that it melts your heart. 
“Thanks,” he says once he’s cranked down the window in the old car, “I’m dead here, can’t keep my eyes open.” 
“Doesn’t do you much good on a stake out,” you say, “drop off the mug when you leave, and just wave at me if you want more coffee, I’ll come over with a refill.” 
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he smiles, and you smile back, giving him a wave as you cross the street to the bakery. 
Dave stays a bit more alert through the rest of the day, and gets relieved earlier than usual. You smile when he comes into the shop. 
“Any luck with whatever you’re waiting for?” you ask as he hands you the travel mug. 
“No, and we’re running out of time, this might be a waste of resources,” he says, shaking his head and yawning widely, “I’m sorry, I was up late last night, working on this and then I couldn’t fall asleep, too much stuff on my mind.” 
“Go home, Dave,” you say, shooing him out of your shop with a smile, “You’re no good to anyone when you’re like this.” 
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, “But I like our chats, makes this stake out more enjoyable than any other I’ve been on,” he suddenly looks a little bit shy as he’s half turned towards the door, a small smile as he looks back at you. 
“I like our chats too,” you say, butterflies erupting in the pit of your belly, and for a few seconds you’re just ogling each other like a couple of fools, both too shy to say anything else. Dave clears his throat, a small chuckling sound, and looks at his shoes before he glances up. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 
“See you tomorrow, Dave,” you give him a wave and a small smile, biting your lip to hold back the bigger one that’s being pushed up by the butterflies as he returns your smile and leaves. 
But the next morning you don’t see his car, or any other car that might be a covert CIA operation and you wonder if the stake out got canceled. The day passes slowly, the usual February slump slower than usual without Dave outside your window. Realizing you don’t have his number, you can only hope he’ll come back even though he’s not on a stake out. And when you finally see him the next afternoon, crossing the street at a slight jog to avoid a car, you feel yourself smiling before he’s even spotted you. When he pushes open the door he gives you a wide grin. 
“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks, coming up to the counter as you put away your phone. 
“Hi,” you smile at him, thanking your past self for changing the stained t-shirt and apron into something cuter, “I’m good, but things are slow today so I’m glad you’re here, it’s been kinda boring without the stake out to distract me.” 
He chuckles at that, looking out onto the spot where his car had been for the past three days. 
“Yeah, orders came yesterday to can it, another team has picked up a hotter lead so we’ve been working on that. But that place doesn't have any nice bakeries nearby, so it's a complete loss,” he says with a smile that makes your insides liquid. 
“So you’re actually here when not on a stake out?” you tease him and he laughs. 
“Told you I’d be back,” he says, pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt he’s wearing up over his thick forearms and crossing his arms, scanning the coffee menu. “Should I go for another one of those nice beans, or should I be adventurous?” he asks. 
You give him a crooked smile, tilting your head like you’re assessing him and he raises an eyebrow in question at you. 
“What do you have in mind? That look is making me nervous.” 
“I’m thinking….” you begin, “the regular coffee, but…you get a snack too, one of the cakes.” 
Dave gives you a grin in response and begins to scan the cakes, “The carrot cake,” he says, pointing to one of the smallest slices covered in white cream cheese frosting.
“Good choice,” you smile, “it’s a best seller and I made it this morning.” You plate the slice and start making the coffee for him.
“It’s kinda healthy, right?” he asks, eyeing the carrot cake with suspicion, “It’s got carrots and all?” 
“I mean, it’s still got sugar and fat in it,” you chuckle, “but it’s made with vegetable oil and not butter, so there is that.” 
You bring the coffee to the counter and start making a coffee for yourself as Dave picks up the plate. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you sputter out as you watch him scrape the frosting off the cake with the spoon, “That’s the best part!” 
“It’s just fat and sugar,” he says, putting the dollop of frosting on the side of the plate, “I’m trying to stay healthy.” 
“I don’t know what to tell you, Dave,” you smirk, “if you don’t eat that frosting on the cake like the baker intended, I don’t think this friendship is going to last.” You point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in a challenge. 
 “You know, I usually don’t eat sweet stuff, it’s the job,” he says, “I need to stay fit for it.” He’s toying with the cake, the intonation heavy on the 'eat'. He's not looking at you, but there’s a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. 
“So indulge a little, it’ll be worth it,” you smile and he looks up at you, his smirk suddenly changing into something more challenging as he seems to evaluate you in silence for several long seconds.
“Only if you’re on the menu,” he says, his dark eyes pinning you in place while he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you on the menu?” 
The question is direct as he slowly raises his eyebrows, the intention clear.
You feel your brain grind to a halt, Dave’s dark brown eyes are boring into you as you slowly inhale, you feel like he’s flicked a switch and turned on his professional side, but he’s not using it to interrogate you. Instead he’s using it to put pressure on you, to get you to tell him what you want. 
What he wants. 
Glancing down at the plate still in his hand, he swipes his finger through the frosting and slowly rounds the counter, coming up to where you’re still standing frozen by the coffee machine. 
“Are you?” he says, repeating his question and slowly bringing his finger to his mouth, sucking the frosting off with a pop. 
The tip of your tongue comes out to lick across your top lip and Dave glances down at your mouth, following the movement. Taking a step closer, he’s almost touching you now, you can feel the scent of his cologne wash over you as his eyes come back up to yours. 
“I’d really like it, if you were on the menu,” he says, his voice low and dark, “but if you’re not, tell me, and I’ll leave.” 
You swallow, still transfixed by his dark eyes on you, the way he’s looking at you, like he’s trying to read you and succeeding. You slowly nod your head yes. 
Dave inhales softly, putting down the plate, “Use your words. Tell me I can kiss you,” he says, the frustration clearly thrumming just below the surface of his low tones as his breath skates across your cheek, his hands hovering just inches from your body, ready to grab as soon as you give him permission, “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all week but I couldn’t do anything.” 
A shiver runs through your body, your hand shaking as you put your coffee cup down, slowly putting both your hands on the front of his gray t-shirt, feeling the bunched up muscles flex under your palms as you slide them up to his shoulders. Dave is watching you intently, a small crease between his eyebrows, his fingers twitching by your waist. 
“Not here,” you say, dropping your hands to your sides, and side stepping him. He turns as you slip out past him, quickly walking the front door and locking it, flipping the ‘Back in five minutes’ sign. When you turn back, he’s still standing by the coffee machine and you pass him. 
“Less nosy neighbors in here,” you say, holding out your hand to him. 
He reacts in a heartbeat, taking your hand and crowding you as he pushes you further into the kitchen, out of sight. He lets go of your hand and grabs your waist, the other landing on your neck, his large hand easily spanning across it and up, cupping your cheek as he walks you backwards. The cool metal of the walk-in fridge hits your back and Dave’s towering over you, bending his face down so that his strong nose brushes against yours, his eyes almost black under his eyebrows, pulled together tight, and the hand at your waist bunching up your shirt. 
“Now?” he husks and you nod. 
“Yes, now.” 
His mouth is hot when it reaches yours in a flash, he’s pushing you further up against the fridge as he angles his head to have more. There’s an edge of desperation to the way he holds you. The hand on your cheek keeps you where he needs you as he licks the seam of your lips. When you part them, his tongue is eager and needy, a groan escaping from somewhere deep inside of him and you pant into his mouth as his sounds fire up your brain. Heat shoots through your body like rocket fuel ignited, the cool metal behind you a sharp contrast to the solid warmth of Dave’s body in front when he pulls you closer with his hand on your waist, tugging you into him. 
It’s messy, tongues and teeth fighting for control, your hands in his hair, his thick fingers grabbing your neck, his thigh between your legs. There’s no hiding the arousal coursing through you both as you moan at the way he rubs over your core, his low groans mixed in when he rolls his hard length into your hip. 
He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling back your head and trailing wet kisses across your throat, sucking a mark into where shoulder meets neck, moving up again, his teeth gently tugging on your earlobe before you gasp when he nips at the soft skin just underneath. 
“I’ve been fucking dreaming about how you’d sound when I did this,” he growls when you moan loudly into the silent kitchen, “sound so pretty, so fucking sweet.” His hand on your waist tightens, he’s pulling you down onto his leg, rocking into you as you clamor for a grip, tugging at his hair, loud, satisfied groan coming from Dave. 
“I wanna hear what you sound like when you come,” he mutters, moving his mouth up to yours again, biting your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, tongue coming out to caress it, taste it, before he lets go.
Pulling back a little, he looks down at you. You meet his dark eyes, lust clouding them as you gasp at the way his thick thigh creates just enough friction to make you convulse under his firm grip. 
“So fucking sweet,” he mumbles, a tone to his voice like he’s been craving this, “always looking at me from the bakery, always smelling so good, so tempting. Been wanting to do this since the first day, just get you in here and make you come all over my leg, hear you say my name.” 
You try to unscramble your brain, it’s hazy with arousal, the coil that he’s wound so tightly about to snap. But all you can feel is the tell tale tingling that’s started in your core and you close your eyes, the feeling radiating out from where his thigh rubs against you. 
“No, keep them open for me, baby,” Dave growls, “keep your eyes on me,” his voice forcing you to look up at him as it hits. 
“Dave…” you gasp, “Pl-please, Dave…” 
It shoots through your system like electricity, your legs closing around his, your skin burning as he kisses you, swallowing down your cries of his name as he keeps moving his leg, working you through the high until your muscles finally relax. 
He holds you up, his arm around your waist now, as his kisses soften. Soft movements across your lips, his tongue gently teasing yours until he pulls back a little, pressing his lips against yours, foreheads touching as you take a deep breath and you can feel him smile against you.
He moves his leg back, bending down and grabbing hold of your thighs, picking you up like you weigh nothing. With your arms around his neck, you hold on until he sets you down on the workbench, his hard erection is pressed tight between you but he seems to ignore it. 
“You ok?” he asks quietly, bending down and pressing a small kiss to the side of your neck, “seemed like you needed that.” His chuckle is low and amused as you sigh deeply. 
“That’s how you indulge?” you ask, caressing the back of his head, raking your fingers through his thick hair. 
“Better for your body than that carrot cake,” he smirks, pulling back a bit so that he can look at you while he cups your jaw and strokes his thumb over cheek. 
“I told you, this friendship won’t last if you don’t eat the frosting,” you give him a small smile, your body still humming. 
Dave gives you a smug look, “I don’t want your friendship, I want your frosting,” he says with a grin, tugging gently at your chin so that he can press his lips to yours and slip his tongue inside before your addled brain can come up with a comeback. 
The kiss is languid and slow, Dave takes his time, holding you back as you try to pull him closer, your hands still in his hair. After several long minutes he reaches up and untangles your fingers and pulls them down to your sides. 
“I’m leaving now,” he says against your mouth, his lips brushing over yours, “And I want you to be good. I have to go take care of something on that case. Close the shop when you’re done, go home, I’ll come by later.” There’s a promise in his low tone, in the way he nips at your bottom lip one last time and his fingers dig into your hips as he moves around your neck.
“Listen,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear, “I’m not done with you yet.” 
Part Twelve
Series Master List
Tumblr media
Ok, so that got spicier then intended right? I don't know what to say, Dave just stepped in and took over.... blame him or thank him!
For the cake, this recipe uses pecans but I prefer walnuts but you can also leave them out if you want too. But it really is a very good cake...
Taglist: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers  
177 notes · View notes