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#listen. listen to me. i love him. Love™ him.
brother-emperors · 2 years
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APOLINARIO MABINI July 23, 1864- May 13, 1903
VIII Strive that your country be constituted as a republic, and never as a monarchy:  a monarchy empowers one or several families and lays the foundation for a dynasty.
-Mabini’s Decalogue for Filipinos
Skipping pleasantries when introduced to Aguinaldo, [Mabini] asked if the Americans had committed to help Filipinos gain independence from Spain in writing. Aguinaldo had no such commitment. Mabini then ruined the festive mood by saying that the declaration of independence was premature. He criticized the wordy document and its statement that the colors of our flag mirrored those of the US. Worse, the document stated that we owed Philippine independence to the grace of “The Great North American Nation.” That afternoon, Mabini made his first political enemy by replacing Ambrosio Rianzares Bautista, author of the declaration of independence, as Aguinaldo’s principal adviser.
Months later, when Aguinaldo submitted Mabini’s appointment as [President] Chief Justice of the Supreme Court to the Malolos Congress for confirmation, Rianzares Bautista seized the chance for revenge by exposing Mabini’s physical disability in a newspaper article. Writing under the thinly disguised pseudonym “Zerzarian,“ he asked: “How can a man without feet be appointed or elected to such high office?”
To which Mabini replied: “Does the job of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court require constant walking? No? Therefore, he can be a man without feet, as long as he possesses the brains and able hands for the office.” Not content with that, Mabini gave the dagger a few twists before pulling it out. In an open letter to “Zerzarian,” Mabini, writing under the pseudonym “Paralitico,” said: “Being assured that old age produces in definite persons a sickness at least as inconvenient as paralysis, I shall not bear you any grudges.”
-Mabini: Conscience of the nation, Ambeth Ocampo [the open letter being referenced here is Mabini’s October 5, 1899 letter to Zersarian]
anyway, I love him
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society6 | ko-fi | redbubble | twitter | deviantart
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shima-draws · 8 months
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OOOGHGHFHGH. HUNTER...😳
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spotsupstuff · 11 months
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i sense how on the contrary, when moon is in Zeph’s local group the members will all go ‘omg youre actually letting us do this’ or be surprised of her leniency with almost anything(or if she gets upset she wont be yelling her ass off and will try to remain calm), because of how Zeph would usually be so strict with em and they didnt expect better
see- first you gotta understand that the chancla doesn't really Hurt the iterators. while they definitely can feel through their puppets, those things are made to be sturdy (throw a normal or singularity bomb into Pebs' chamber,he's fine, i know he just doesn't have health but worldbuilding is worldbuilding so i guess a fully functional iterator is fine with blackhole into the head). it maybe stings for a sec but it's not worse than gettin pinched (also where did you get that she yells at em, she's only exclaimed so far i think. if you check how she handled Innocence, that's how she generally goes about it- no yellin for the sake of puttin 'em in place, she's just venting out her frustrations into the air)
the Point of the chancla is to get the target's unwavering attention so she can talk some sense into them WITHOUT using the senior privilege which is far more invading since it cuts straight through their systems and forces the juniors to stop everything to pay attention. these things are giant supercomputers! they are going to have a different perspective on what counts as "too much"/"too bad" than us humans! it isn't used to limit what they are doing unless the thing they are gon do is explicitly threatening to their safety, the limiting is what the Senior Privilege does!
in that lil comic with Pebs, Suns, Nish, Inn and her, she doesn't actually even hit Nish in the last panel, the chancla is only supposed to suddenly appear from behind next to his face n he gets startled + drama queen points. i've admitted in the tags of it that i gave up on the last page so i don't blame anyone for not gettin that since i haven't put enough effort into communicating it
with what she's doin back in her own group, she Needs to be this strict if she wants her plan of keeping everyone reliably long-term safe to work
and her groupmates would undeniably miss her. they love her! they don't want some lenient stranger without constant spice to her instead of their ramshackle beloved Azzie!!!!
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#Spot says stuff#rw#oc tag#remember!!!!! important point to her character that also bothered me at some point with how similar it makes her to Moon was that shes Kind#Zeph is kind almost as much as Moon but their situations- concerning all their past present and future- are strikingly different and so#their lives require them to have different approach to things. what Zeph is specifically doin different from Moon is that shes Firmer#strictness isnt wrong!!! if you arent strict on either yourself or the people around you then it is easy to breach boundaries n do-#-Terrible things. its. honestly why i got real sad when a peep asked me to tag that one post as abuse. its not that believe me Zeph would-#-Never abuse another iterator. shes specifically trying to get around that while still keepin them sensible. but ofc ill tag it as such 4 u#look where Moon's leniency got her! dead and hurt and everyone who loved her suffering! there are times when you Need to be firm and cut-#-a bad situation at its bud before it can spiral into something absolutely damning#i didnt include it cuz it isnt Funney™ but after each chancla she talks to the target about why what they did was wrong#Suns you cant send that. it can hurt him very badly. Innocence you need to respect other people. Pebbles this will Hurt me if u keep doing-#-what you are doing right now. it could *kill* me. why are you doing this in the first place? do you need to talk? need me to listen?#being strict and being cruel or dictatorial are different things
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seaweedstarshine · 3 months
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You know that time in the comics when the Doctor is so depressed, he shuts off the lights, turns on an interrogation spotlight, locks himself in the console room, and argues with a bunch of judgmental shadow-figures resembling his past incarnations?
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And all the TARDIS' lights go out and her interior becomes a maze to keep his companions out of the console room, all from her psychic connection with the Doctor (“moodbleed”)?
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And his companions are left wandering in circles for two days as the air goes “stale,” not knowing where he is but thinking the worst, while he hallucinates in a dark room?
...because I'm thinking again about the times this definitely happened when he was with the Ponds.
#when they find him- Rory (one good nurse™) asks neutral questions to check on his emotional state while respecting his space#Amy knows when he's locked himself alone long enough to call River (fortunately Amy talks to her daughter often)#River can calm the tardis and go directly to the Doctor. she sits with him and nods when he rants. she tells him hes loved.#eleventh doctor#11th doctor#doctor who#words by seaweed#(eleventh) doctor is neurodivergent tag#honestly same. I don't want anyone looking at me when im in that way because eyes are very uncomfortable lasers slicing my thoughts#so river doesn't look at him. she looks away and lets him look at her so he knows she's not looking at him. she also does active listening#the shadow-figures in this comic are beyond psychosis coded#emphasis: it isnt presented like some conference of past selves here (which the doctor can't just do anyway- see Power of the Doctor).#and the shadow figures dont have personalities anyway. the way theyre drawn is VERY psychosis coded (as is 11 this whole Si Spurrier run)#this is from Eleventh Doctor Year 2 Issue 3 (set between A Christmas Carol and The Impossible Astronaut) if anyone's wondering#note that he put on his comfort fez I love him#alice obiefune#poor Alice got drove up the wall from wandering in the dark for two days… I think Amy and Rory get to get used to it if they're together#eventually they work out a plan to calm the tardis enough to show them the comfy spot in the bunkbeds to wait and give him space#he joins them in their bunkbed for platonic snuggles. all in the same bunk. Rory doesnt mind. they make sure the doctor knows hes loved <3#I think- having been percieved as psychotic growing up- Amy would be conscious about making sure the doctor knows she still adores him#I really want this fic to exist
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✨SAM WEARING HIS CAP TO THE BACK✨
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(Sam's Beanies/old post)
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cinematicnomad · 2 years
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i’m leaving for india today! my first international trip in...literally almost a decade, and my first international trip for work EVER. my nerves are basically just one giant jumble of Oh Fuck and Oh My God! 
one v good thing: my friends who got married this weekend are going to germany for their honeymoon and while talking about their plans we discovered, through no intentional planning of our own, that we are LITERALLY on the same flight today (bc i’m transiting through germany). which means i’ve got some friends to hang out with at the airport! 
#kat liveblogs her life#kat travels#literally i was talking to the bride last week when we were getting our nails done#and was like 'oh yeah so when are you going on your honeymoon?' bc i know A LOT of people who wait for a better time to travel post-wedding#and she was like 'monday'#which i thought was great! bc i said 'oh! COOL! i'm gonna be at the airport on monday too! maybe we can hang out! what time?'#and then we just kept comparing details being like '....no way. NO WAY.'#but she didn't know the airline so we couldn't be 110% sure!#but then when i arrived at the wedding weekend literally the first person i saw was the groom and he was like#'KATY TOLD ME WE'RE FLYING TOGETHER AND THAT'S AMAZING'#and we both pulled up our tickets to compare and it's TRUE WE ARE#we're like. less than 10 rows apart from each other#katy and jim LOVE telling people about how i've always been there for some of the big MOMENTS in their relationship#(i even got mentioned in the wedding ceremony!! bc during a long drunk wine weekend jim referred to himself as katy's boyfriend)#(which they had Not Yet decided so i called him out like 'WAIT. BOYFRIEND?? 👀👀👀' and that's how they became Official™)#so he kept introducing me to people over the weekend like 'you know that friend i told you about who's always at our big moments? HER!'#and then told everyone who would listen about how we'd be on the same flight lol#i do expect some potential awkward conversation about me hooking up with his brother though 😬
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trcshbirb · 2 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Daniel (Detroit: Become Human), Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Emma Phillips Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Suicide Summary:
One shot.
He's spent his whole life taking orders. Now it's his turn to decide.
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I'm sorry Wayne Munson I swear I love you
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ebbarights · 10 months
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.......... i can feel the not-crush returning. somebody shoot me please
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miamigrandprix · 1 year
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wheres my fucking gale post LISTEN yall were brainwashed by peeta v gale discourse. i'm not defending his worst choices but he makes sense!!! he is multidimensional!!! fuck liam hemsworth tho
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shellshocklove · 3 months
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lover, lover, lover | joel miller
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pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader
summary: after blurring the lines with your boss and pornstar joel in pismo beach, what happens when you come back home to LA?
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), misogyny (bc of the times™), swearing, use of pet names, oral (f+m receiving), use of sextoys, handjob, praise kink, soft!dom joel but also a hint of sub!joel, porn, degradation, no use of y/n
a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic. you should read the part 1 first or this will make no sense lmao. i know it's been months since i posted that one and i've gone back and forth a lot on if i was gonna write a second part, but here it is <3 again i wanna give a big thank you to my beloved @dustydaddyyy for encouraging me every step of the way, listening to me when i feel lost, and for reading through everything. i love you babes!!! <3
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
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You jolted awake.
With a groan and a confusing squint, you sat up on your elbow. The back of your hand rubbed roughly at your eye as you looked around your darkened bedroom. The fan on your dresser huffed and swirled, blowing cool air in your direction with every pass – blowing away the memories of your dream.
You turned around to lay down again when you heard it. A distant sound of your phone ringing in your hallway. You let out another groan as you scooted out of bed, your nighty falling around your knees as your feet met the carpet floor. Shuffling down the hall you muttered a quiet “I’m coming, calm down,” to the phone.
You lifted the phone of the hook with a quiet, “Hello.”
“Did I wake ya, sweet girl?” the static voice answered.
“Joel, what time is it?” you sighed into the phone, your arm hitting the cool wall as you leaned against it.
“Um…” he started, probably checking his watch, “02.05.”
“Yes, you woke me up…” you told him, eyes tired and falling shut before blinking open in quiet panic, “Wait– did something happen? Why are you calling so late?” Fear squeezed around your heart, wrapping its cold hands around it as flashes of Joel getting arrested, or kidnapped… or something worse, played like a movie in your head.
“No,” he laughed, “No, sweetheart! I just couldn’t sleep.”
“So, you decided to wake me instead? You are aware we have a meeting with VCA tomorrow at 9am? I told you that didn’t I?” Two fingers pinched the bridge of your nose – trying to squeeze the sleep away.
You usually never forgot any of Joel’s meetings or commitments, and you prided yourself in staying on top of his schedule. You could swear you told him about the meeting the other day on the way back from Pismo Beach.
Pismo Beach.
You hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off. Two days had passed. Two days since… Since you’d had sex with Joel. Two days since he told you he wanted you to be his. Was Joel your boyfriend now? You couldn’t tell.
“Yeah, you did, you’re a good assistant,” he said, the smile evident in his voice.
The praise wrapped itself around your heart like a pink cloud of love – it made you smile.
“Thanks,” you whispered, your quiet voice making him chuckle down the other end.
You waited for his chuckle to die before you asked him, “Um… was there anything else?”
“You tired of me already, sweetheart?” he teased.
“No, never,” you shook your head, “it’s just late.”
“I know, I’m sorry baby,” the way he said it, he left the words hanging in the air.
A second passed in silence, and then another. You waited for him to say something else, but when the words never came you spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Can I come over?” he almost cut you off, his words hanging at the end of your own like a teenager on a skateboard gripping tightly to the back of a bus.
“Tonight?” you asked, front teeth digging into your bottom lip.
“Yeah, now,” he clarified, “my car’s fixed– I can be there in probably… thirty minutes?”
“Ehm…” your head bumped against the wall. Thirty minutes? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Joel – you did – but it was so late, and you had to get up so early tomorrow.
“Maybe twenty if I speed,” he laughed.
“Joel,” you chided, a smiled tugged at your lips.
“Okay, thirty,” he relented.
You pushed off the wall, a finger curling around the phone cord. “If I say yes you have to be sneaky– and quiet. My landlord doesn’t allow boys to visit.”
“Good thing I ain’t a boy then, sweetheart.”
You snorted, teeth digging into your lip to kill a smile from blooming, “I’m serious, Joel! A girl got evicted last month because she got caught having her boyfriend over.”
“How’s that even legal?” his static voice wondered.
“I don’t know Joel, my landlord… she’s this old lady– super religious and she owns the whole complex– I think she inherited it from her late husband who was a developer or something. Anyway, every time I bump into her, she always questions me about if I have a boyfriend and then gives me this speech about how premarital sex is a sin, and how I’ll go to hell–”
“Shit, baby– move out,” Joel cut you off.
“I can’t,” you sighed, “It was the only place I could afford when I moved here.”
“Ain’t I payin’ you enough?” he teased, “I’ll talk to Ronald about a raise f’you want.”
You let out a chuckle, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate– or professional, to talk about this now, Joel.”
“Alright, baby– always so professional,” he playfully chided, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
You let out a hum, though a small knot tied itself in your stomach at the thought. You didn’t want Joel to get the wrong impression; that you wanted a raise now that you’d let him fuck you.
“See ya in 30?” he said, breaking the static silence, “I’ll be real sneaky.”
“Ok,” you said softly.
You told him your address, making him repeat your apartment number back to you before you hung up. You didn’t want him accidently knocking on the wrong door, and getting you evicted.
Padding back into your bedroom, you grabbed your silk robe hanging off the door. You twisted it around yourself while you turned on the lamp over your bedside table. The light bathed your room in a soft glow. You were starting to wake up a little now. Leaving your bedroom door ajar you walked back down your hallway with soft steps. Stepping into the kitchen, you grabbed a mug from your cupboard, busying yourself with making a cup of tea as you waited for Joel.
Thirty minutes later, you heard the buzz of your doorbell. Abandoning your cup on your kitchen table, you quickly hurried to your door, buzzing him in. Your heart hammered in your chest. The risk of getting caught so late on a Sunday night was low, but you could never be too careful. You waited for him in your doorway, your finger picking at your nail bed as you looked out for him to round the corner.
You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw him, a smile widening across your face as he picked up his pace in a small jog. His grin was wide as well, all teeth and crinkles as he closed the space between you. With a small glance over his shoulder, he made sure he hadn’t been caught as you ushered him inside.
The light in your hallway was low, tinting everything in a warm yellow hue. His hands were on you in an instant, strong hands gliding over your waist from behind as you locked your door. In the next moment you felt his chest press against your back, locking you to his body in an engulfing hug. His nose dragged down the column of your neck, pressing sweet kisses into your skin.
“Hi,” he mumbled.
Leaning into his touch you hummed out a greeting. His grip tightened around you before he turned you around in his hands, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around his neck. God, he was handsome. Soft brown eyes shining under the soft light, you watched as they took you in, traveling down your bare face, down to your silk robe hiding your nighty. A sting of embarrassment panged in your chest under his gaze, maybe you should’ve changed into something else, something a little sexier. Then you realized what kind of sexy he was used to, sheer lingerie, stockings, garter belts and high heels, not whatever underwear you were hiding away in your drawers.
“Shit,” he whispered, eyes blown wide in the low light, “let me kiss you properly, sweetheart.”
His big palm cupped your cheek, bringing you closer before he brushed his lips over yours. He tasted like a mix of his last cigarette and beer. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch, his lips against yours. Joel hummed into the kiss, nose bumping into yours as he held you close, thumb ghosting over your skin. The kiss was quick, but still tender, and when you broke apart, the embarrassment from earlier had faded.
“Missed your lips baby,” he whispered against them, emphasizing his words with another peck.
“You did?” your voice was breathless, eyes half lidded from his affection.
He didn’t answer, only catching your lips in another mind-blowing kiss. His hand not on your cheek traveled from your waist to the curve of your ass, where it squeezed. You jumped a little from his touch, breaking his kiss. Immediately Joel removed his hands, catching himself as he took a step back.
“No?” he asked, eyes searching yours.
A flood of warmth filled your chest, “No, it’s okay– it’s just… late.”
His eyes softened at your words, his palm finding your cheek again to softly rub his thumb over your skin, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, “It’s okay…” you trailed off, your hand grabbing his other hand to intertwine your fingers, “Let’s go to bed?”
With his hand in yours Joel trailed after you down the hallway.
“The bathroom is just in here if you wanna use it?” you stopped at the end of your hallway, pointing to your closed bathroom door. Joel gave you a short nod and a smile, and let go of your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze.
You stepped backwards to push open your bedroom door while he vanished to your bathroom. The alarm clock on your bedside table showed 3.08 in big red letters when your eyes flickered to it as you pulled at the strings of your silk robe. You twisted out of it and hung it back on the hook on your door, before you climbed back into your bed, waiting for Joel.
He walked into your room a few minutes later. You watched him from under the covers, eyes hooded with tiredness as he shed his clothes. Naked, safe for his briefs, he haphazardly folded his clothes, eyes flitting around your room for a place to put them.
“You can just leave them on the dresser,” you said, all cozy under the covers.
Sending you a small nod he sauntered over to your dresser with his clothes half-folded in his hand, where he placed them down gently. He stood there for a moment longer with his back turned, something catching his eye.
“So,” he spoke up, “what’s the review?”
“Huh?” You were confused.
You watched how his shoulders shook, grabbing something off your dresser before turning around, hiding it behind his back as he closed the space between you. You were still confused, a furrow pulling at your eyebrows.
“What d’ya prefer? This,” he started, revealing what he was hiding behind his back, “Or the real thing?”
In his hand he held the box with the dildo he’d modeled for. You’d forgotten all about it in your back seat while you were in Pismo Beach, only noticing it again as you’d parked outside your apartment. You had been meaning to give it back to Joel, didn’t take his ‘joke’ of you keeping it at face value, but then you’d forgotten all about it, leaving you with no choice other than to bring it inside.
“Joel,” you felt a flash of heat burn your cheeks.
“What? I wanna know,” he grinned, fingers fiddling with the cardboard to open it.
You gave him a chastising kick from under the covers, trying to shut the conversation down, but it only made him huff out a laugh.
“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” you said truthfully. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.
“What? Not even once,” his eyebrows knitted together, he almost looked disappointed.
You shook your head, “I was gonna give it back to you when I dropped you off on Friday, but it slipped my mind.”
“Why? I gave it to you,” he pulled the dildo out, the supposed perfect recreation of his package.
“Joel, you couldn’t have been serious about that?” you breathed out a laugh. It was hard to take him seriously with the toy in his hand.
“Well, now I’m a little disappointed, sweetheart,” he placed the box and the dildo on your bedside table, next to your alarm clock, “I really wanted to know your thoughts.”
He crept up the bed as you shifted over to make space, holding open the duvet for him to slip under.
“I’m sorry, Joel– I just didn’t think you were serious about that… and,” you trailed off when he wrapped his strong arms around your body, twisting around in his arms as he pulled you close against him.
“And, what?” he said, his breath huffing against the shell of your ear.
“I… uh, I haven’t… since,” you didn’t know how to say it.
But Joel knew, pulling you closer to rock his hips against your ass, “Haven’t what, sweetheart? Touched yourself?”
He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t not hard – you could feel the semi he was sporting against your backside. It made you lose your trail of thought, as memories of the last time he held you against his body like this, filled your mind.
You had enough sense to shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out as words and not a strangled moan.
“No?” he teased with another rock of his hips, “Well, I have, sweetheart– touched myself thinkin’ of you.”
“Joel,” you couldn’t fight the whine from escaping as he rocked his hips against you again, his big hand slipping under your nighty.
“Touched myself thinkin’ about this beautiful fuckin’ body of yours,” his hand splayed over your tummy, traveling upwards to grab at your breast. “Thought about these pretty tits,” his voice got lower, whispering in your ear as he flicked a finger over your nipple, making you sigh. He let go of your breast, hand gliding down your body to ghost over the hem of your panties, “And this tight little pussy,” he finished.
“Joel,” you sighed, body reacting automatically to his touch. His breath in your ear sent goosebumps down the whole of your body, and a whine fell from your lips as he palmed your heat over your panties, feeling your arousal starting to soak the cotton.
“Yes, sweetheart, say my name as I touch your pussy. Tell me who’s makin’ you feel good.”
Fuck, it took all your strength to gather your thoughts, “Joel, it’s–” you let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit.
“What, baby?”
“It’s– It’s late,” you managed to breathe out.
And just like that, the spell was broken. His hand slipped from your cunt to rest over your waist. You twisted around to face him, a pang of guilt filling your chest.
“I’m s-sorry, I just–”
He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours in a quick kiss. “Don’t you apologize to me,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “If you ain’t feelin’ it, I ain’t feelin’ it, okay?”
You felt yourself nod, your chest filling with gratefulness. You wanted Joel so much, you did, you wanted him to feel good, but you didn’t want it at 3am when you had to wake up in four hours.
“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully, your forehead falling against his.
He shifted his face, cheek brushing against your forehead until you felt him press a kiss to your skin. “Nothin’ to thank me for, my sweet girl.”
You shifted closer to him, cheek boring into his naked chest, “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you told him, “I’m just so tired.”
Pulling you closer to his body, Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, “’s okay, baby, you just close your pretty eyes, okay?”
You nodded against his head before you whispered, “Good night, Joel.”
“Night, sweet girl.”
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“Hey,” you felt a nudge in your side pull you from your dream, “How d’you turn off this thing?”
Then you heard it. Your alarm. The beeping was loud and obnoxious, but it did the job to wake you, usually.
With heavy limbs you sat up on your elbow, goosebumps spreading over the newly exposed skin as you leaned over Joel’s body to press the snooze button. His big hands found your waist when you leaned back, guiding you to straddle his body.
His lips found yours in a soft kiss, then another before he mumbled, “Good mornin’,” against your lips.
He didn’t give you the chance to reply as he pulled you into yet another kiss. It took you by surprise, your hand coming up to press into the pillow next to his head, to hold your weight. Under the duvet you felt his hand travel down your body, slipping under the hem of your nighty and dragging upwards, cupping your ass as he pulled the fabric with him. His touch ignited something in you, making you whimper against his lips.
“There she is,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips with a loud smack to press kisses along your jaw. It made you sigh, your body going lax in his arms as he pulled you closer, mind going blank from his loving. Then he suddenly tightened his arms around your body, his strong hand splaying over your back as he flipped you around to lay on your back beneath him. A small yelp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, the yelp turning into a giggle when he dived into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you as he pressed small kisses against your skin.
With a hasty hand he balled the fabric of your nighty in his hands, pushing it up your body to reveal your naked body to him. He sucked a breath through his teeth at the sight, eyes hungry with lust as they raked over your form.
“Need to fuckin’ taste you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp, coated in residual sleep and arousal, “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you taste this whole weekend.”
You couldn’t hold back the whine at the back of your throat at his words, hips bucking by their own accord where he had your legs splayed open over his thighs. Arousal spread like electricity through your body, where it pooled like dripping honey in your tummy.
“Please,” you begged when his fingers found the hem of your panties, his pointer finger dipping beneath the band to run it across your skin.
“Yeah?” he coaxed, “Want me to eat your little pussy, sweet girl?” his finger stretched at the elastic, letting it slap against your skin as he pulled away. Under him you whined, frantic hands finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. In your hurry to kiss him, you missed his mouth, clumsily bumping your nose into his instead.
It made him breathe out a shallow chuckle, “Okay, baby, okay. I’ll take care of ya.”
He pulled back from you, your hands around his neck falling to your sides, and softly hitting your mattress. Grabbing at the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, he spread them wider, putting your covered cunt on display for him. His eyes drank in your body, studied how soft and pliant you’d gone from his touch.
You watched his face, his eyes, his lip twitching with a wicked smile when you jumped under his finger, starting to press slow circles down on your covered clit. He dipped his finger lower, caressing your folds over the fabric before he pressed two fingers into your covered hole as far as your panties allowed. You could feel how soaked you already were, your dripping cunt fluttering around nothing when he pulled back.
“Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said, voice dripping with pity, “My sweet girl’s just beggin’ to be touched, ain’t she?”
To your own surprise you managed to peep out an answer, “Yes.” Your voice came out strangled and begging, your mind clouded over with Joel.
“Yes, that’s right, baby, you’re such a good girl, let me hear you.” He hooked his finger under the elastic, tapping your ass lightly. You lifted up off the mattress, helping him drag your soaked panties down your legs.
Under him you felt your mouth drop open slightly, watching him as he clasped your panties in his hand, his thumb rubbing at the wetness with a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With his thumb coated in you, he dropped your panties, losing them in the sheets as he brought his attention back on you.
His eyes bored into yours as he lowered himself between your legs pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh. His big hands splayed over the back of your legs, pushing them closer to your chest to putt your naked and dripping cunt back on display. You held your breath as you waited for him to finally touch you where you wanted, but then he hesitated. The air was charged with arousal, his breath fanning over your throbbing clit. A thought of how you might die if he didn’t touch you soon, crossed your mind.
With a desperate whine, your hand tangled in his hair. You didn’t know what to do, so you begged, “Please, Joel?”
His eyes found yours immediately, where he saw how much you needed him, but he needed it in words, “Y’want me to touch you, sweetheart? To eat your pussy?”
“Yes,” the words fell from your lips so fast you almost cut him off, “Please,” you added for good measure.
Your consent was all he wanted. He dipped his head to lick ever so gently at your clit, making you mewl under him, a needy desperate sound, begging for more. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, and sucked, that’s when you turned into a withering moaning mess under him, hips bucking into his mouth, chasing more of the pleasure he was giving you.
Joel hummed against you, the bass of his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot, pulling you deeper under the blanket of pleasure.
When his hand loosened its grip around the back of your thigh to caress your folds, a moan got caught in your throat. “P-please” you stuttered, dying to have his fingers split you open and coaxing you towards your release.
But Joel removed his fingers, continuing to explore you with his tongue instead. He dipped down, tongue lapping at your folds, tasting your arousal like he told you’d he’d been dying to. With one fat lick up the length of your pussy he took your clit back in his mouth, going back to lapping and circling it just right, coaxing you closer and closer.
“Fuck.”
You were hauling quickly towards your orgasm. Your eyebrows twisted together in a tight frown, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair, your leg close to shaking with the intensity. You were right there on the edge.
Then he abruptly pulled away. The disappointing mewl escaped you on instinct, and Joel laughed. Laughed. Your heart twisted in on itself at the sound.
“W-what?” you muttered, confusion painting your features when he sat up.
Joel grinned down at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned down to your face and cupped your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin with tenderness.
“Want you to be good f’me, sweet girl, can you do that?”
Your head moved in his hand, a timid nod as you searched his face. “I–I can be good.”
His grin widened, all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, a small pout forming to kiss away.
“Good girl.”
His mustache tickled your cupid’s bow, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, taste how desperate for him you were.
He left you breathless when he pulled away, your body all loose and pliant from his touch, not registering what he was doing until he was back to sitting between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, his broad shoulders, trailing his happy trail down his torso to his waist, noticing the shape of his hard cock in his briefs, a wet spot staining them where the head was.
Fuck, you wanted him inside you.
Then you noticed his hands, and what he was in them. The dildo, of him. You shifted up the bed in surprise. Your nighty fell down over your chest as you sat up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.
He watched you too, turning the dildo in his hand to nudge at your entrance as he leaned forward to hover over your body, a big hand on your chest pushing you down.
“Are you gonna be good?” 
“Joel,” you gasped, feeling your hole flutter in anticipation.
“Are you?” he pressed, rubbing the silicone head slowly up and down your folds, coating it in your arousal.
“Y-yeah, y-yes,” you nodded, face heating from the obscene slick sounds of your arousal.
With a wicked grin, his eyes flicked back to your aching cunt, before he pushed the head inside slowly, feeding your more and more until the dildo was buried inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips, mouth dropping open from the pleasure of being stretched.
“There you go, sweetheart. ‘s big stretch, isn’t it? Doing so good for me, my good girl, honey, my good fuckin’ girl.”
He pushed the toy in and out in shallow thrusts, working you open around the fake cock. It wasn’t the same, but still the stretch was divine. With his eyes glued to your cunt he pulled the dildo all the way out, only the head notched at your entrance, before slowly thrusting in all the way. You whimpered when you felt him nudge at your spot inside, your hand desperately grabbing for his other arm to anchor you from falling over the edge too soon.
“Joel,” you whimpered, “P-please, t-touch m-my–”
Joel picked up his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with the dildo, the obscene squelching sounds of your cunt filled the air between your moans. His grip tightened in your hand, guiding it to hover over your clit.
“Touch your what, honey?” He teased, pressing your fingers down, guiding them in tight circles.
“Ah– fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten, and tighten, and tighten.
Then it all became too much. With a broken cry you came, squeezing hard around the fake cock. Joel continued fucking you, a small gush of liquid pouring down over the toy with each thrust, as you pulsed and squirmed around it.
Catching your breath, you came down from your high, while small jolts of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake like a leaf in a storm. It was like your ears were ringing, before you realized they were actually ringing.
“This fuckin’ alarm,” Joel muttered, hovering over you to turn it off.
His voice brought you back to earth, as you turned your head to look at the time. Shit, you were gonna be late!
With shaky hands you glided your hand down your cunt to grab at the base of the toy still inside you, “Joel, we’re gonna be late for your meeting,” you murmured, slipping the dildo from your cunt. Everything was sticky and messy between your legs, a big wet stain growing under your ass.
Joel pushed your hand away, like he was scolding you for touching what was his. “We can be a little late, sweetheart,” he said calmly, before ducking down to press a kiss to your clit.
You shifted up the bed, away from his touch, anxiety an endless spiral in your tummy. “No, we can’t, Joel– They told me it’s a pitch for a new movie, you’ll miss out on a big opportunity if you don’t show.”
Between your legs, Joel’s head dropped to your chest, as a pained sigh left his lungs. He went quiet for a beat as you watched the messy curls at the top of his head, then he lifted his head to look at you, “Okay, then.”
You felt bad leaving him hanging as you both got out of bed, his rock-hard cock strained desperately against the fabric of his briefs – just dying to be touched.
“Joel, I-I’m sorry,” you closed the space between you, snaking your arms around him.
“Sweetheart, ya need to stop apologizin’”, he placed a dry kiss to the top of your head, steady hands finding your waist. Your heart swelled in your chest. He made you feel so safe.
You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’, before catching yourself, “Okay,” you nodded against his chest. You basked in his touch for another minute, his strong arms around you, breathing in the comforting scent of him – the intoxicating mix of his faded cologne, cigarettes and sex.
“You were enjoyin’ it though, weren’t you?” Joel asked as he pulled away. You could see the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, “So tell me, sweetheart... it better’n the real thing?”
“No,” you said, your own teasing smile tickling your lips as you detangled yourself from him, and turned around to head towards the bathroom, “Real thing’s better.”
Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, and then Joel was pulling you back against him. He pressed himself against you so you could feel how hard he still was, his aching cock barely contained by his briefs.
“Attagirl,” he half-whispered, half-groaned into your ear, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. 
“I need a shower,” you said with a giggle, stepping away from him before turning around again, only for Joel to pull you close once more. He found your eyes, his hands barely loosening their grip on your body. You could still feel him against you, his hard cock now pressed against your stomach. “Do you… maybe,” you bit down on your bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face.
“Wanna shower with you?” he helped you with a grin, and you nodded.
Your shower was cramped, too small to fit two people, and even though you had been the one to ask, you still felt nervous under the streaming water. He looked so good; your eyes couldn’t help but trail the water droplets racing down his thick muscles. He watched you too, but more openly, his eyes not afraid to trail down your body – to glide over your tits, down your back, and over the curve of your ass.
And then there was his cock, still hard and leaking, making its presence known between you like a third person. What made it worse was that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just went about washing his body like nothing, pushing back his wet curls as he rinsed your shampoo from his hair.
Did he want you to say something? The thought fluttered in your stomach.
“Um, Joel?” your voice echoed against the tiles.
You watched as he tipped his head forward from under the showerhead, eyes blinking at you as soapsuds hit his broad shoulders and ran down his chest.
“You know– um… I can–”
Jesus Christ! Could you be less sexy.
When he didn’t say anything, you breathed out a nervous sigh, eyes flitting down to his cock, hoping he would take the hint.
And he did.
“You wanna touch my cock, sweet girl?” His whole demeanor shifted.
“Would that– would that be okay?” you said, your teeth catching on your bottom lip.
“More than okay, sweetheart,” he said, with a devilish grin.
You took a few steps closer, a shaky hand landing on his waist while the other hovered between your bodies, right above where his heavy cock twitched in anticipation.
You didn’t know what to do. Well, you did. You’d seen it enough times at work to know, but you’d never actually done it before. Another reminder of just how inexperienced you were when it came to all of this. You looked at him with uncertainty, for guidance, and without uttering a single word, Joel knew what you were asking.
He curled his fingers around your wrist, bringing it up to his face, and spat. Using that tender grip he guided your hand down between your bodies again – the back of your hand brushed against the rough hair of his happy trail – and down to the base of his aching cock.
“There ya go,” he whispered as your fingers wrapped around him, Joel’s spit smearing over his shaft as you moved upwards in an experimenting stroke, “Good girl, just like that,” he hissed through his teeth.
You tilted your head to watch his face. Watched how his eyes were so fixated on your hand wrapped around him as you began to slowly stroke his cock, familiarizing yourself with the weight and feel of him in your hand. You didn’t miss the way his breathing shifted, releasing a sound you’d never heard come from his lips before. A whimper.
“Am–am I doing okay?” you asked, your eyes following his down to your hand wrapped around him. He was so big in your hand, your fingers struggling to meet around the girth of him.
He hissed out a strained laugh. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing so good– massage the head for me a little,” Joel groaned.
You did as you were told, bringing your hand up to the tip with a tug, squeezing out a pearl of precum. It dripped down over your hand, your thumb skating over the sensitive head, and smearing it all over.
“Shit,” Joel hissed, “keep doin’ that, sweetheart, bein’ so good f’me,” he praised, encouraging you.
You’d never seen Joel like this before. So at your mercy– at anyone’s mercy – always the one to take charge. But now he was falling apart from your touch. He encouraged you further as his breath got heavier. You sped up the strokes over his cock, and his body slumped into yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he whispered breathy babblings of praise into your skin. A glowing feeling of pride grew in your chest as you brought him closer and closer to his release.
“I’m close, baby,” he whimpered in your ear, “don’t fuckin’ stop.”
So you didn’t.
With your hand tight around his cock, you quickened your pace, tracing your thumb over his slit just like he’d told you to do earlier. A slick noise of spit and precum echoed against your bathroom tiles. His thighs tensed, his hand grabbed at your waist to pin you to his body, and you knew he was right on the edge.
“Fuck, I’m comin’.”
With a string of praising curses, he came apart in your hand. His thighs clenched, his heavy balls tightening as cum spurted from his tip in ribbons over your hand. The bass of his voice vibrated against your skin, as you continued working him through his high, slicking up your hand and fingers even more.
You squeezed him until there was only a small dribble pearling at his tip. A white stream of cum ran down his cock and down to his balls, dripping down onto the tiles of your shower floor. And then it was too much, and Joel hissed, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to dab your hand away.
He didn’t say anything, only grabbing your face with both hands, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. With your hand messy from his release, you didn’t know where to touch him, opting to grab at his elbow with your other hand to steady yourself.
Out in the hallway, your phone rang, forcing you to breathlessly pull away. With a sorry smile, you ran your messy hand under the showerhead before quickly pulling at the shower curtain.
The phone rang loudly as you tiptoed down the hallway. Water droplets ran down your skin, leaving a trail of dark spots on the carpet. Your hand clung to the towel you’d wrapped around yourself while the other hurried to answer the phone.
“Hello?” you sang.
“Hi, sweetie, it’s your uncle,” a gruff voice answered.
“Oh, hi,” you said, leaning against the wall.
Down the hall your bathroom door opened, steam framing Joel’s body as he stepped out naked as the day he was born, with a towel resting over his shoulders. His heavy cock soft between his strong thighs– it was like a scene straight out of a porno, one he’d probably starred in. He caught your eye, and smiled, making his way towards you as he brought the towel up to dry his hair, his biceps flexing with the effort.
“What was that?” you stuttered, completely missing what your uncle had said on the other end.
“Almost hung up on ya, I said,” your uncle repeated.
“Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”
“I was just calling to say I’m driving a Corvette down to LA in a couple of days for a client. Was thinking I’d take you out to dinner– catch up– make sure you’re not getting up to any trouble down there,” he laughed.
His tone was lighthearted, but you couldn’t help but cringe. The trouble in question reaching his hand out to trace a drop trailing down your exposed collarbone, ducking down to place a teasing kiss to your skin.
“D-dinner sounds nice,” you managed to choke out, “Um, I know a nice Italian place down in Santa Monica.”
“Sounds great, sweetie! I’ll call ya after I’ve dropped off the car Thursday afternoon,” your uncle’s static voice replied.
“Thursday afternoon,” you repeated, “Ok, see you then!”
“So…” Joel started, his arms snaking their way around your form. “I ain’t the only man who wants a piece of ya,” he joked, after you’d hung up the phone,
“That was my uncle, Joel,” you let him know, your body melting against his touch.
“He’s takin’ you to dinner?” he queried.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “he’s driving a car down here for work, so he wanted to see me.”
Joel hummed, dropping his head to brush his lips over yours as his hand splayed over your waist slid down to the curve of your ass.
“Nonono,” you chuckled, pulling away, “Joel, we’re already late as is!”
“So what,” Joel groaned, pulling you back for another kiss, hands tightening their grip on your ass, before trailing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, “We could stay in ya know... enjoy the real thing.”
Joel’s kisses continued along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.
“As tempting as that sounds,” you let out through a small groan as you felt his tongue tickle that spot under your jaw, “We can’t cancel this meeting.”
Joel’s lips stopped their descent towards your neck, and he took a breath, the force of it tickling your skin, before he lifted his head, lips grazing across your jaw as he kissed the corner of your mouth again.
“Later,” you promise him, eyes looking into his. Joel’s smile was wistful, another small sigh escaping through his nostrils before he brushed his lips over yours.
“Later.”
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“Let’s get started? Or do we want some coffees before we start?” Ronald asked from his seat at the head of the table.
You were seated in a chair in the corner, the cigarette smoke hung low over the room. In your lap your notebook rested, cracked spine opened to a random blank page while your fingers fiddled with your pen.
All the big important men from VCA were here, eager to finally work with the infamous Joel Packer on their new big-budget project. The last couple of years had been big for Joel, multiple magazine photoshoots, longer features and obviously modeling for a sextoy, but this film would be his biggest opportunity. It would bring in a lot of money, and Ronald knew it. He couldn’t hide the dollar signs in his eyes behind his ‘friendly’ grin.
“Ey, sweetheart!” Ronald raised his voice. You lifted your gaze from your notebook, curious as to what he was yelling about.
“Yeah, you!” He looked straight at you, a hand waving you towards him. Did he forget your name? You wouldn’t put it past him.
Leaving your notebook and pen in your chair you walked over to him, hands wringing behind your back as you stood behind Joel where he sat to Ronald’s right. He looked at you with impatience, a crude finger motioning you closer.
“Why don’t you go get us all some coffees, sweetie?” he spat out the order, his sour breath hitting you in your face.
“Um, uh,” you looked to Joel for help. This wasn’t your job; this was a job for an intern. It was important for you to be here, to take notes, to know what arrangements needed to be done, and which people to call.
“Um, uh,” Ronald parroted, “just do it– isn’t it what I’m paying you for?”
It wasn’t, but now everyone was looking at you. Everyone except for Joel. His gaze bored into the teak in front of him, fingers tightly pinched around a cigarette. With no help from Joel, you held your tongue and muttered a “Yes, sir,” to Ronald before you turned on heels.
“Alright! I wanna start by introducing Cheryl here, making her film debut alongside Joel–” you heard Ronald start as you slipped through the door of the meeting room.
Outside the meeting room, you were met with a brown hallway, identical to the left and right. Wood paneling clad the walls, and you couldn’t help your eyes from peeking through the glass partition walls of other meeting rooms as you made your way down the hall. Everything looked the same. You turned a corner, and you swore you’d been there before. After walking for what felt like a small eternity, you made it to a break room with a small kitchenette.
The coffee in the pot looked old and stale, and you poured it out in the sink. As you waited for the fresh pot to brew you searched through the cupboards for a coffee carafe. The cupboards of the kitchenette were pretty empty, only filled with mugs and drinking glasses. With a sigh you kneeled to look through the cabinet below the sink.  You tried your best to be fast, not wanting to miss anything important. Finally, you found what you were looking for. With fresh coffee in one hand, and paper cups in the other, you made your way back down a hallway you hoped would bring you back to the meeting.
A couple of wrong turns later you let out a sigh of relief as you peaked Joel through the glass partition wall of the meeting room. This better be good enough for Ronald, you thought as you opened the door, not bothering to knock.
“And I think that’s about it,” one of the men opposite Joel said as you placed the coffee and paper cups on the table, “We’ll break for lunch and go ahead with the chemistry test later today.”
Did you really just miss the whole meeting?
“Sounds great,” Ronald said, pushing his chair out, and standing to his feet to shake the hands of the men from VCA. Then the rest of the room came alive as people got up from their seats and gathering their things. In front of you a chair bumped into you, pushing you a little off balance.
“Oh! Sorry– didn’t see you there.”
It was Cheryl, Joel’s new co-star. She was young, just turned twenty-one if you remembered correctly, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded down her back. Her light blue dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves while the deep v-neck showed off her cleavage.
You shook your head and put on a smile, muttering an “It’s okay,” as you stepped out of her way, and shifted closer to Joel. He was busy gathering the papers spread out in front of him on the table, tapping them lightly against the teak before gathering them in his hands, turning towards you and Cheryl.
When you didn’t make a move to leave, Cheryl cleared her throat, widening her eyes at Joel as they flickered towards you. Your heart sunk in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to take her hint – you knew when you weren’t wanted.
“I’ll uh… I’ll wait for you down in the reception,” you muttered to Joel, “Let me know what you want for lunch, and I’ll get you something.” Before he could say anything, you turned around to leave, grabbing your notebook and pen.
You knew you shouldn’t have looked back as you made your way out the door, but you did. The cold stone in your chest sank lower as you watched them. Cheryl’s body curled towards Joel as they talked, her hand landing on his bicep as she let out a giggly laugh. It made your heart sting, but maybe not as much as the ache of watching Joel’s bright smile, the one he so often gave you.
Over fifteen minutes later, Joel finally walked into the reception where you waited for him. You were hard to miss where you sat on one of the couches, reading a magazine, the only person occupying the space.
“Whatcha readin’?” he asked, slumping down next to you, so close his arm brushed against yours.
You couldn’t watch his bright eyes, and the cheeky smile tugging at his lips. So, you held up one of the porn magazines you’d grabbed off the coffee table, blocking his view of your face, substituting it with the woman adorning the front and posing seductively to the camera, showing off the biggest boobs you’d ever seen.
“Industry news,” you shrugged.
You earned yourself a chuckle, “Anythin’ interestin’?”
“Not really,” you sighed, quickly shutting the magazine, and throwing it haphazardly on the table.
You could feel his warmth beside you, his broad frame, and strong arms. The same arms who’d held you so close this morning. Still, you didn’t look at him, your gaze falling to your fiddling hands in your lap. A piece of skin around your thumb had come loose, and it burned as you pulled at it.
“Um…” you started, still watching your hands, “What’s the plan for lunch? You want me to go down to that deli you like– get you a sandwich?”
Joel’s arm brushed against you as he shifted in his seat, bucking his hips slightly to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Ain’t no need to do that for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips.
“Well, it’s kinda my job,” you mumbled, your face pulling up into a slight frown as you ripped the loose skin around your thumb.
“Yeah– but,” Joel drew a breath of his cigarette.
Now you looked at him, eyebrows pulled tight in a real frown, “But what?”
He watched you, eyes dancing over your face as he took another drag, releasing the smoke out the corner of his mouth.
“Nothin’.”
You couldn’t interpret his face with the way he was looking at you, almost as he was searching for something. A silence grew between you – it was ugly and festering, like a canyon had grown between you – it was something you’d never felt with Joel before.
“A sandwich sounds nice,” he finally spoke across the silence, and you nodded.
“Um– can I borrow your car?” you asked, clearing your throat of your anxiety.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” It was like your question had woken him.
Joel had driven you both into work today, your car sitting pretty in its parking space outside your apartment complex. He rested his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he fished his car keys from his jeans pocket and handed them to you.
“They have me set up in a trailer out on the lot next door– I’ll wait for ya there, alright?” The hand handing you his keys locked around yours, caging them between your hands.
You squeezed his hand, the familiar weight of it in your hand, the tenderness in which he held you, made you feel a little better. Shrinking the deep canyon between you to a ravine.
“Um, why exactly?” you asked, eyes glued to your intertwined hands.
“Shit– sorry,” Joel shook his head and shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours, “they want me and Cheryl to have a chemistry test before they go ahead with signin’ the contracts. It’s nothin’ big or anythin’– just a blowjob.”
Just a blowjob.
You nodded slowly. It was just a blowjob, but it was a blowjob from Cheryl. Cheryl who was younger with the perfect body. Cheryl who made him smile and laugh. Cheryl who could give him a blowjob, and not some sorry excuse of a handjob.
“Oh, okay,” you peeped, loosening your grip around his hand, clasping the keys in your hand.
You got up from the couch before he could say anything more, “I’ll go get you your lunch then.”
His cigarette resting in the ashtray had burned out, like your conversation with Joel. You bent slightly to grab your purse when his hands clasped around your wrist, bringing your attention back on him.
“’s everythin’ alright?” he asked you as he got up from the couch as well, closing the space between you.
Your lips pulled into a smile, one you hoped was convincing, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t it?”
His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, shifting your face to look at him. “’s just for work, you know,” he told you.
Your head was nodding even before he’d finished talking, your face still pulled tight in a smile, “Yeah, Joel, I know.”
“Okay,” he whispered and leaned closer. You shifted your face in his palm, his lips hitting your other cheek in a short peck before you were pulling away. His fingers like a bracelet around your wrist, fell heavy to his side.
“See you in a little bit,” you told him before pushing the door to the reception open and stepping outside.
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Some forty minutes later you were knocking on a trailer door with the sign ‘Joel Packer’ hanging on the front. In your other hand you were balancing two coffees and a bag with two sandwiches. You knocked again when nothing happened, scared you’d shown up to the wrong trailer for a second, even with the sign telling you, you were in the right place.
“Joel? I have your lunch.”
“Come in,” he answered almost immediately.
You opened the trailer door and stepped inside, careful not to spill the coffees all over the carpeted floor of his trailer as you balanced everything. With the door closed you turned around, eyes scanning the cramped room for Joel.
He was laying on the couch, one hand down the front of his pants where he palmed himself over his briefs – a lazy smile resting over his features as he took you in.
“Oh! Sorry,” you quickly looked away, scurrying to place his food on the nearest table.
Behind you Joel got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you to wrap his arms around your body, and press his front against your ass. You jumped in his grasp, your hands finding his where they rested around your waist.
“Stop apologizin’” he whispered in your ear, his teeth catching on your earlobe, “was just gettin’ ready, baby,” his breath was hot against the column of your neck, and you felt his cock grow against your ass. “Ain’t gonna have any trouble gettin’ hard now though,” he chuckled.
“Joel,” you whined, the sound pathetic at the back of your throat.
“Yes, baby, let me hear ya,” you could feel the bass in his voice vibrate against your skin.
His hands spread over your body, drinking you in with his touch, grabbing at your breast while pressing tender kisses to your neck. You melted against him, body soft and pliant. In an instant you were back in your memories from this morning, and you couldn’t fight the whimper from falling from your lips. With closed eyes your memories mixed with your present. Images of how he’d kissed you, touched you, and taken care of you this morning blended with the firm press of his body against yours and his calloused hands exploring you; like how you could still see your reflection in rippling water.
“Joel,” you tried again.
“I know, my sweet girl,” he cooed.
Behind you he bucked his hips against your ass, the bulge of his hard cock splitting your cheeks. You felt your arousal wet your panties, an ache of anticipation settling in your core.
“Fuck, sweetheart– wish it was you getting on your knees for me later.” He whispered his filthy words in your ear with another buck of his hips. “Wanna feel your tight little throat around my cock as you choke on it.”
His confession made a nervousness intertwine itself with your blinding arousal. You turned around in his arms, your face nuzzled into the dip where his neck met his collarbone, “I-I’ve never done that before.” Your confession was barely a whisper, the words muffled into his skin.
His grip tightened around you, and you felt the way his body moved under your cheek, a comforting hand landed carefully at the back of your neck. His jaw and cheek bumped against the top of your head as he dipped down to your face and his breath changed like he was about to say something, but then was interrupted by a hollow knock on the trailer door.
“We’re ready for you on set in fifteen minutes, Mr. Miller,” a voice called.
With the knock the spell was broken. You untangled yourself from his embrace, a shy smile ghosting over your lips as you stepped away.
“You should eat.”
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Again, you’d agreed to watch him film. Joel had convinced you on his way out the trailer door, his hand resting at the small of your back as he led you towards the set. It was a small shoot – only Joel and Cheryl, the cameraman, the sound guy, a couple people from VCA, Ronald, and you. In the time you’d worked for Joel, you couldn’t remember a set feeling this intimate (not that you usually stayed to watch– not unless he explicitly asked).
The only goal for the scene was to find out if Joel and Cheryl worked well together on camera – hence no specific storyline or roles they were supposed to act out. Joel was getting his dick sucked, but other than that they were free to take the scene whichever way they wanted.
The room buzzed with quiet conversation as the cameraman got the camera and film ready. Joel was already seated on the couch where the scene would take place. His legs were spread wide, his hard bulge on display as he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Cheryl had taken up the seat beside him, leaning her elbow on the back and resting her head in her hands. They were talking, but you couldn’t hear from where you stood in the corner. Every now and then Joel’s eyes would search for yours, meeting them for a moment as a small smile spread across his lips, before they would flick back to Cheryl, joining their conversation again.
A few minutes later, the cameraman gave the okay to start shooting, making the rest of the set settle down. Joel still smoked his cigarette, so you took it upon yourself to be a good assistant and walk over to him with an ashtray.
A smile spread across Joel’s face when he saw you approach. His arm came up to rest over the back of the couch, his body opening to you with curiosity. You gave him a small smile in return, presenting the ashtray to him with a teasing raise of your eyebrow.
“Just ‘nother drag, sweetheart,” he teased, placing his cigarette back between his lips.
“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, stealing his cigarette from his mouth with two pinched fingers.
The rest of the smoke in his lungs came out in small chuckles, his hands gathering in his lap as he leaned slightly towards you, moony eyes watching you. He was about to say something before,
“Quiet on set,” the cameraman interrupted with a shout.
You wanted to do something. Cup his cheek, kiss him, anything to just touch him, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep it professional. Instead, you gave him another small smile before you walked back to your previous spot in the corner.
“And… action!”
With the shout of the cameraman, the film was rolling, and the shoot had started.
Leaning against the wall again, you crossed your arms over your chest as you watched Cheryl sink to her knees between Joel’s spread legs. On her lips she wore an innocent pout while her hands caressed his thighs.
“Wanna put my mouth on it,” she said in a sweet voice.
“Yeah, baby? What do you want in your pretty little mouth?” Joel’s voice was deep and coaxing, his hand cupping Cheryl’s chin where his thumb ghosted over her skin.
Cheryl tilted her face down slightly, eyes big and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes.
“Your cock, sir,” she pouted.
You still didn’t know much of the plot to the porno they were shooting, but it was clear that they were going in a specific direction. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to slip into a more dominant character in the pornos he played in, but this new element of innocence from his scene partner wasn’t something he often did.
“You want me to teach you how to suck cock like a proper whore, sweet girl?”
Sweet girl.
You watched how Cheryl’s head nodded in his palm, teeth catching on her bottom lip, and a wicked smile tugged at the corners of Joel’s mouth. It made you shift your weight, arms tightening around your body.
“Alright…” Joel’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, “Take my cock out,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.
Cheryl obediently did as he said, her hands messing with the buttons on his jeans. Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath – it was easier that way, he’d told you earlier in his trailer. Cheryl gasped as Joel’s hard cock sprung free. Her eyes wide as she watched how his cock slapped against his lower stomach.
“’s big isn’t it, sweet girl?”
Again.
Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, pulling at the loose skin with a burning ache.
“So big, sir,” Cheryl agreed, nodding her head.
“Too big for your little mouth, sweetheart?” Joel teased, taking himself in his hand, pulling gentle strokes up and down.
Cheryl shook her head again, “No, sir! I can take it!”
Joel huffed out a laugh at that, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you can, slut.”
His degrading words pulled a moan from Cheryl, and not a second later her mouth was on him. Joel laughed again, another huffing chuckle leaving him as his heavy hand came to rest at the top of her head, guiding her down on him.
“That’s it, slut, suck that big cock– take it all the way down that whore throat,” he encouraged, head tipping back in pleasure. The wet sounds echoing through the room were obscene, pornographic. Sticky strings of spit clung to Cheryl’s chin and dripped down to her breasts where she’d tugged at the V of her neckline to expose them.
“Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that,” Joel moaned, eyes squeezed shut with a look of pleasure coating his features like he’d ascended to heaven.
My sweet girl.
The room spun, and you pressed your back harder against the wall, like it would fall down over you if you didn’t press up against it. Or maybe it was you who would cave in.
That pet name. That fucking pet name.
You needed to step out if you wanted to breathe, your throat tightening up as your thoughts drifted; to this morning in your bed and then again in the shower, to the two of you in that motel bed, to Joel’s hand on your knee as he’d knelt in front of you by the pool in Pismo Beach. Burning tears pressed behind your eyelids. You couldn’t watch any more, couldn’t hear any more, you couldn’t.
As quietly as you could you stepped out of the set. Your eyes pinched together in a squint as the hot LA afternoon sun blazed down on you. The air hot and stuffy, but not as suffocating as you felt inside.
Why did you feel this way? Jealous of another woman?
Joel wasn’t your boyfriend… at least not in so many words, but after Pismo Beach and his confession, he felt like yours. Someone you can’t help but fall in love with. That’s what he’d told you.
You couldn’t keep your thoughts from spiraling. Fall in love with? How could he be in love with you? You’d only had sex twice, never been on a proper date. You didn’t know who he was outside work. His touch and his kisses felt good, but how could you know if it was more than that – more than just something physical. He’d never called you his girlfriend. Why did you have any right to be upset right now?
This was his job. You knew that before you got involved with him. It wasn’t a problem for you, you’d told him so in the job interview. You’d spoken the truth at the time, but now you weren’t so sure.
Numbed by your realization, you stepped back inside. The scene you were met with only affirmed your thoughts.
You couldn’t give him what he wanted.
They’d moved positions. Cheryl’s head hung off the armrest, perfect boobs bouncing beneath Joel as he fucked her throat. It was lewd, and dirty and plain vulgar. With every thrust of his hips Joel earned himself a quiet gag. Under him, her body was completely at his mercy. He pulled back every once in a while, to let her breath, before plunging his hard cock back down her throat. Ropes of bubbling spit escaped her mouth and ran down her face.
Joel was completely in control, using her throat purely for his own pleasure. Groans and moans spilled from his lips in between filthy praises and ‘good girl’’s. Cheryl’s body squirmed under him, her hand rubbing quickly at her clit under her dress, edging herself towards her orgasm.
This is what Joel wanted. Someone like Cheryl– someone who was confident and skilled, someone who knew what she was doing.
You watched Joel’s thrusts turn sloppy, and that now familiar pinch in his brow let you know he was about to bust his load. With a quick motion he jerked his cock back, taking his throbbing and sensitive cock in hand, fisting himself quickly. Cheryl gasped for air, before she withered with her orgasm.
Joel groaned louder than you’d ever heard him before, his eyes flicking up from Cheryl’s squirming body to find yours. A smile spread across his face then, and then he was spilling over his knuckles and painting Cheryl’s face with his release.
“Shit,” Joel panted, coming down. His hand squeezed the last few drops of his cum out of his cock and onto Cheryl’s tongue.
“Aaaand– cut,” the camera man yelled.
Joel dropped the act immediately, stepping away from a ruined Cheryl as his cock went soft in his hand.
“Shit,” Cheryl groaned, wiping some of the mix of spit and Joel’s cum from her face.
“You okay?” Joel asked, tender hands helping her sit upright.
Cheryl giggled sweetly, big smile blossoming over her features, “Okay? More than okay, Joel– fucking amazing.”
As the gentle lover you knew him to be, Joel helped Cheryl clean up her face after getting handed a towel, but not before assessing the picture he’d painted– which wasn’t much, not compared the cumshots he usually gave out.  
“If I knew I’d be filmin’ today I wouldn’t have jerked of this morning,” he laughed, wiping her face.
It wasn’t funny.
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part three -> here
i hope this was okay? and that you liked this! <3 as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3
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iovesia · 1 year
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IN THIS DARKNESS.
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❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( keanu reeves masterlist. & gif credit. )
synopsis : sfw & nsfw dating john wick headcanons.
warnings: fluff. breaking up. angst. smut. canon typical violence.
pairings : john wick  𝒙  fem!reader.
josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ holy fuckkkk, the new john wick movie ignited something in me. i was straight up biting my lip off in the movie theater. enjoy these little headcanons while i try to come up with an actual fic. your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the warnings and enjoy! — reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated !! ♡
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SFW.
Number #1 Gentleman™. Outside of his profession, he’s quite literally the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, and he'll really try to woo you when you first start dating.
Like, holding the door open for you, carrying your bags, giving you his jacket when you’re cold, paying for dinners, and even buying you expensive gifts.
This man is 100% loaded. Expect him to be buying you all kinds of trinkets and gifts. Whenever he notices you staring at something, or briefly mentions something, he’ll remember it forever.
John is super observational, he notices all the little things. His quietness (and lowkey awkwardness) make him an amazing listener. Because he lives such a chaotic life, in contrast to the one with you— he loves to listen to you ramble about everyday shenanigans.
He has a dry ass sense of humor.
Pet names consist of: sweet girl, and honey. He's a little old-timey like that.
Super protective over you. Like, second shadow level protective— man will not let you out of his sight. He's lost so much in his life, and after Helen, he just can't stand the thought of ever losing you.
While he would try to stay out of fights when he's around you, he'd wouldn't take shit from anyone who tried something with you. He's John Wick after all, so trust that he'd kick their ass.
Not a fan of PDA, and gets a little awkward about it in the early days of your relationship. Growing up in the Ruska Roma, physical affection wasn't exactly number one priority. So he's a little surprised (and touch-starved) when he notices how clingy you are.
Always walking his his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Random sidenote, but I headcanon that John is warm all the time. Mans is a walking furnace.
You spend all your nights tangled in each others arms. He's always the big spoon, letting you rest your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat as he encapsulates you with his strong arms.
John loves having you sit in his lap. The two of you could spend hours together, even if it was in silence, just enjoying each others loving embrace.
You end up getting a dog together, and you constantly tease John for his terrible choice in names.
"John, c'mon, don't be boring!" You giggle as you kneel down, rubbing the cheeks of the cutest pit bull you've ever seen. "We can't name the dog, Dog."
"You have any better ideas?" John smirks, kneeling down next to you, pressing his lips to the side of your head.
It'll take a while before he talks about his past and profession with you. He doesn't want to inadvertently drag you into his life of crime, and put you in any danger.
But, soon enough, the walls will lower and he'll let his guard down. John will confess secrets about himself, bit by bit.
It'll be on a random night, when you start tracing his tattoos with your finger. In a quiet whisper, you'll ask him what the one on his back means.
"Fortune favors the bold," he whispers with a raspy voice, his thumb rubbing your forearm, as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. "I got it when I was younger."
You always ask him to teach you some moves, and he's happy to do so, under the guise that it's for self-defense (and not at all that his muscles and figure look amazing when he's doing martial arts).
He can only keep running from the assassin life for so long, until it eventually comes to bite him in the ass. So to protect you, he forces himself to break up with you.
John, unfortunately, carries a large sense of self-loathing. He thinks and knows he doesn't deserve you. For the heinous things, he's done, he knew it was too good to be true.
You cry, and beg him to explain why he's doing this. But, in true John nature, he holds himself together and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before walking out.
You don't see him crumbling, and breaking down as he shuts the door behind him.
NSFW.
Size kink. Size kink. Size. Kink.
John is 6'1, so you'll be climbing this man like a tree.
He loves how big his hands look, when he presses your wrists down on the bed, or when he grabs a handful of your breast.
Missionary position is his favorite. He loves the intimacy, and being as close to you as physically possible.
You wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as he leaves several hickeys along your collarbone— Lord, he can't get enough of it.
Corruption kink, I can't lie.
He's a big, scary, assassin— and his moral integrity is a little murky. John almost gets off on the idea of slowly corrupting you, and turning you into his dirty girl.
He is hung. That's all I have to say.
Again, super possessive. Do not ask him to share, he will shut that down.
For someone who never talks, he's suddenly dirty talking in your ear the whole time. His lips pressed against your ear, mumbling all kinds of things that make your cheeks burn.
"Hmm, what was that?" He hums, sending vibrations through your body. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."
Breeding kink.
Not fully for the reason of wanting kids (although, he'd love to start a family with you and really settle down), but again for the intimacy.
He loves to mark you with his cum, another result of his total possessive protectiveness of you. You don't miss the way his eyes darken when he empties inside you, watching as it comes pouring out.
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© iovesia, 2023. do not plagiarise, translate, or repost my work.
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daisies-daydreams · 1 month
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Okay so I was listening to the song agora hills (not saying I like Doja but her song hit okay? Hate the sinner love the sin) ANDDDD it have major hobie brown x lovesick puppy reader. Like this woman is DEVOTED to her mans. Like really devoted. On her knees with puppy eyes type of love. Always wanting to be on him and nuzzling him. Whines when he tries to move. Just very..loving. Hobie doesn’t mind obviously. And it gets worse when they have sex. She whines while his cock rams into her, grabbing the sheets tightly to ground her🙏. SO YES I NEED A FIC LIKE THATTT…just very fluffy but smeggsy sex
Somethin’ Different About You (Hobie Brown x Lovesick!F!Reader)
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Pairing: Hobie Brown x Lovesick!F!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut Tags: Swearing, Reader Gets Whiney, Making Out, Foreplay, Vaginal Fingering, Cock Piercings (Prince Albert), Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Doggy Style, Unprotected P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Creampie, Post-Sex Cuddling, Cockwarming, Ass-Lover Hobie™ Word Count: 3k+ A/N: I literally listened to Agora Hills for the first time a few weeks ago and it was 😩👌Anywhoooo, thank you for the spicy request and I hope you enjoy!
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“Guess we’re havin’ a night in,” Hobie shrugged as he peeked at the thick blanket of snow covering the street below. Frost caked the outside of your flat’s window as a tiny space heater hummed in the corner of your room. Your boyfriend closed the blinds shut before turning towards you with a quirked brow.
“You cold, babydoll?” Hobie asked as he watched you tremble beneath the thick comforter. You nodded as your teeth chattered incessantly. Hobie pursed his lips before he lumbered towards your bed. Your heart skipped a beat as your love cupped your cheek, his palm already warming you to the core.
“You want me to help warm you up?” he murmured, a hint of desire laced in his words as he looked at you with a soft, half-lidded gaze. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you eagerly nodded your head.
“P-Please,” you frowned and wiggled beneath your comforter. Hobie cracked a grin and chuckled before he grabbed the bottom of his red t-shirt. Your eyes widened as he quickly slipped his shirt over his head, his puffy wicks fanning out as he tossed the clothing aside. You sucked in a sharp breath as you raked your eyes over his lean abs, your eyes eventually landing on the thick, dark happy trail.
“Like what you see, lovie?” Hobie snickered with a teasing grin. You bit your lip as your cheeks swelled with heat.
"I can't help it," you muttered sheepishly as you glanced away. Your boyfriend snickered as he unlatched the buckle of his studded leather belt, his ripped jeans falling to the floor not long after. You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you caught side of Hobie's dark boxers loosely hanging around his sharp hips. He chuckled again.
“Scoot on over, baby,” he lilted. You immediately did as you were told, your heart pounding in your ears as he slid beneath the covers with you. You instantly came to his side and snuggled against his warm body, your lips curled into a giddy smile as he wrapped his lanky arms around you. “Mmm, there’s my pretty girl,” Hobie cooed before gently kissing the crown of your head. You squealed and dipped your head into his chest as he wrapped one of his ankles around yours.
Hobie sighed, letting his warm breath cascade over the back of your ear and down your neck as he held you close. Your heart skipped a beat as he nuzzled his face into your neck - his plush lips delicately brushing over your pulse and nose ring gliding against your skin.
“I was thinkin’…maybe after the weather gets better, we could go iceskatin’? I know you've been wantin' to go for a while,” he suggested as he traced mindless shapes against your hip. Your eyes lit up as you wiggled at his suggestion.
“Really?” you breathed while tilting your head over your shoulder. Hobie hummed and gave a lopsided grin.
“Really really,” he replied. Your smile grew as you turned around and pecked his lips. Hobie grinned into the kiss as he spread his palm across your waist. His lips on yours felt like sunlight on a spring day: warm and soothing to the touch. You whined when he suddenly started to slip away.
“Babe, I’m just gettin’ a glass of water,” Hobie laughed. You pouted as you gazed into his deep, brown eyes.
“No, you’re too warm,” you keened and rolled on top of him. Your lover chuckled softly as you shoved your face into his neck. He sighed and stroked his hands up and down your back as he pecked your temple.
"I'll be gone for a bit, yeah?" he said while gently brushing his thick thumbs over your hips. Your heart fluttered at his light touch as you parted your lips against his skin. Hobie’s breath hitched as you gently kissed his pulse, letting your lips linger against his neck as you felt his hands tighten around your waist. “Please? Just a little longer?” you murmured, your lips dancing over his sensitive pulse as your breasts pushed against his chest. Hobie swallowed thickly as he tilted his head back. His pupils grew by the second as you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. Your boyfriend sighed and scratched the back of his head.
“Well…who am I to deny my baby ?” your lover said with a cocked grin. You squealed and wiggled on top of him, drawing another deep, melodic chuckle from his throat. You smiled widely as you finally felt like you were starting to warm up against your beloved’s body, his hands wandering up and down your sides as he peppered your cheek with kisses. You giggled before he suddenly laid his palms against your ass and tenderly squeezed your supple cheeks.
A mischievous smile crossed Hobie’s features as he rested his forehead against yours.
“Y’know…there’s another way I could help warm you up,” he whispered while smoothing his hands up and down your bum.
You squealed as he suddenly flipped you over, his long body draped along your back as your stomach and breasts pressed against the ruffled sheets. You whined as you felt him trace his hands along the curve of your butt.
“You wanna feel my fingers stuffin’ that perfect pussy of yours, sweet girl?” Hobie purred as he teased the band of your pants with his nimble fingers. Your walls fluttered as you gulped.
"Y-Yes please," you murmured and swayed your hips side to side. Your jaw went slack when he suddenly tugged your pants and panties over the globes of your ass.
You shivered as the cold air rolled over your exposed skin while Hobie slipped his hand between your soft thighs. You keened and arched your back as Hobie gently circled his fingertips over your slick, needy hole. You trembled as he pecked over your neck and slid his long, heavy fingers up and down your juicy slit. You moaned and wiggled beneath your lover as he spread your folds apart, the small squelch sending a pulse of heat through your dripping snatch.
"Keep making those noises f'me, baby. Love hearin' your sweet voice," Hobie purred before puckering his lips over your neck. You gasped and mewled as he suckled on your pulse while smoothing his fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Mmm, good girl," he groaned before lathing his warm tongue over the fresh hickey adorning your neck.
"Hobie, please," you pouted and shifted your hips as he continued to tease your puffy clit with his digits. You felt him smirk against your pulse as he trailed his fingers further down your slit. You squeezed your eyes shut and ducked your head into your arms as he gently prodded your entrance wide open with two thick fingers.
"God, you feel so fuckin’ warm," Hobie rumbled before sucking over your neck once more. You panted as you felt him sink his digits even deeper inside your wet heat, feeling every inch of his long fingers drag along your velvety walls.
“H-Hobieee~,” you keened as you felt your tight hole being stretched by his nimble digits. Your walls pulsed as he peppered your neck with wet, sloppy kisses. The deep groan that reverberated inside Hobie’s chest made you quiver as he began to slowly pump his fingers inside your dripping sex. A sharp cry fell from your lips as he scissored his digits within your tight heat.
“Such a sweet girl,” your boyfriend murmured as he skillfully curled his fingers with a wet squelch. You squirmed as he slipped his other hand up your burning body, his fingers taking a greedy handful of your breast before giving it a tender squeeze.
“F-Faster, please,” you begged him while slapping your ass against his palm. Hobie’s snicker reverberated against your neck before he slammed his fingers down to the knuckle. You squirmed and keened at the delicious push and pull of his digits against your sensitive, velvety walls.
“Fuck,” you choked out as you ducked your face into the pillow. Your body jiggled each time he thrusted his fingers back into you, drawing out heavy sighs and sonorous moans from your pretty lips.
“Yeah, that’s it baby girl,” your boyfriend praised as he snaked his other hand around and began to draw sloppy shapes around your clit. You tensed beneath him as your walls fluttered against his long, curved digits. “Don’t hold back - I want you to cum on my fingers before I fuck this cute little pussy of yours,” your lover rumbled in a low, husky voice before nipping at your earlobe.
Your eyes rolled back as he rubbed your clit with even more fervor, each stroke bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your sweet release.
“H-Hobie,” you writhed as he tugged the collar of your sweater to the side. A small gasp left you as Hobie nibbled on your shoulder before lathing his warm, wet tongue over the tiny bite mark. Your legs violently shook as your boyfriend's fingertips brushed against your gummy cervix, the sensation causing the band inside you to violently snap.
“Fuck yes!” you cried out and threw your head back as your pussy squeezed his digits in a greedy vice - soaking his nimble fingers with your warm, delectable nectar.
“Christ,” Hobie cursed as he slowly dragged his fingers inside your puckering hole. “Makin’ such a mess, babydoll," your lover drawled. Your jaw went slack when he curled his fingers against your g-spot; a massive wave of pleasure rolling through your fluttering cunt as you mewled. “I fuckin’ love it,” Hobie murmured while smirking against your shoulder.
You felt like your limbs were turned to jelly by the time your walls stopped pulsing around his thick digits. Your breath hitched as your boyfriend slowly pulled out his deft fingers, leaving your entrance raw and oozing with your cream. You slowly opened your eyes when you felt something warm and slick against the corner of your mouth.
"Go on, lovie: see how good you taste," your lover rumbled. You parted your lips with a heavy sigh before Hobie slipped in his slick-coated digits. You moaned softly as the sweet taste of your own cum washed over your delicate tastebuds. Hobie groaned and pulled his boxers down as you curled your lips over his fingers and suckled on them tenderly.
"Fuck, that's a good girl," he praised as you swirled your tongue around his thick, long fingers. You fluttered your lashes as he pulled his fingers towards the inside of your cheek. You mewled and thrusted your ass back as you felt the cold bulb of his cock piercing rub up and down your drenched slit.
"You still want me to stretch out this cute pussy with my thick cock, hm?" Hobie chuckled as he teased your needy clit with his throbbing tip.
"Fuck, yes!" you slurred against his fingers as you threw your ass back. You could practically feel the smirk on Hobie's face as he slipped his fingers from your mouth with a wet "pop". You shivered as he traced his wet fingertips along your spine before smoothing his palm over one of your supple asscheeks. You squirmed against your lover's touch as he lined his tip to your weeping entrance. The ache to be filled with his long, veiny cock drove you into a lustful frenzy as you whined.
"Hobie, please! I-I need you," you mewled your cheeks jiggling against his taut hips as his bulbous head just barely slipped past the rim of your tight hole. You shivered as his hot breath fell against your neck.
"I'm here, baby," he murmured gently as he spread your cheeks apart. You gasped and instantly curled your fists against the soft, cotton sheets as Hobie slowly pushed his girth inside your needy cunt.
"Fuck, Hobie!" you moaned and squeezed your eyes shut as your walls stretched and molded to the perfect curve of his length.
"God, you wrap around me so fuckin' perfectly," Hobie grunted as he squeezed your bum. A shiver ran down your spine and straight to your core when his sharp hips became flush against your ass, his whole length stuffing you to the limit. You swallowed thickly and mewled as you felt his heavy balls rest snugly against your puffy clit: the light pressure enough to make you nearly fall over the edge again.
"Oh my fuckin' God," Hobie groaned as your walls pulsed around his shaft. Your eyes shot open as he dragged his cock half-way out before slowly thrusting it back inside your tight, squelching hole. "Pussy feels so good, lovie," he moaned as he rocked his hips at a steady pace.
"F-Fuck," you keened at the delectable, wet friction of his dick gliding along your silky walls. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you felt your cunt spasm and clench around his cock. "No, not yet," you begged internally before gasping as he slammed his cock down to the hilt.
Your moans nearly shook the walls as Hobie's pace began to pick up, the tightness in your core growing with every drag of his dick. Your legs trembled as you felt his Prince Albert kiss and rub against your cervix with each eager thrust.
"S-Shit, babydoll. Huggin' me so tight," Hobie grunted as he dug his nails into your hips, the pressure enough to surely leave bruises tomorrow. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as stars began to dance in your vision.
"God, yes - k-keep going," you moaned and arched your spine as you felt every nerve ending in your body glow with pleasure. Your body instantly stiffened when Hobie slipped his fingers against your engorged clit.
"Hobie!" you screamed as the cord inside you violently snapped. Your eyes rolled back as waves of pleasure crashed and tumbled over you - a riptide of bliss tearing your mind to shreds. Your legs quaked as your pussy clenched down on his dick - gripping it in a deliciously snug vice.
"Oh God," Hobie grunted as his thrusts faltered, your walls pulsing and soaking his cock with your warm slick. You babbled his name incessantly as he began to snap his hips forward once more. "You're so fuckin' hot when you squirt all over my cock, baby," your boyfriend moaned while pounding into your puffy cunt.
You could only manage a strangled mewl as your body was shaken with wave after wave of overstimulation. Your jaw went slack at the sound of your cheeks clapping each time Hobie's hips slapped against your body.
"Want me to fill you up, sweet girl?" Hobie purred as he began to rub messy circles around your bundle of nerves. You released a strained cry of pleasure when his cock twitched between your snug walls. "C'mon, baby: let me here you," your lover coaxed before gently pressing his soft lips to your shoulder. You parted your lips as you slightly tilted your head to the side.
"Y-Yes," your voice cracked as you felt yourself already growing tight again. Only Hobie could do this: make you cum so many times before he eventually filled you up with his thick, potent seed. "Yes, H-Hobie. Please stuff me so full that your cum leaks from my pussy," you mewled. You felt him smirk against the patch of goosebumps over your skin as he continued to thrust his heavy length into your aching, stretched out hole.
"That's my girl," Hobie's breath stuttered before he latched his mouth onto your skin. You threw your head back and keened as you felt the gentle suction of his lips against the tender bite mark left from before. Your mind was too far-gone with pleasure to even register the sound of your bed loudly creaking and groaning as your lover's thrusts began to falter.
"Fuck, (Y/N). Cum with me, lovie. Cum with-" Hobie cut himself off as he suddenly slammed his cock down to the base. Both of you moaned in unison as waves of pleasure rocked you to the core. "Fuck yes," Hobie gasped as his cock pulsed inside your drenched cunt, painting your walls with ropes of this thick seed. Your head spun as he panted against your shoulder, his fingers now digging crescents into your plush waist.
"S-So good, Hobie," you shuddered as your body was ravaged with euphoria. You panted heavily as your pussy sucked him deep inside you, his piercing pressing against the gummy plug to your womb as his cock continued to throb. Your heart pounded in your ears as you drifted back down from your high, your body coated in a thin sheet of sweat as Hobie groaned.
The room was filled with the sound of your combined, heavy panting as the two of you caught your breath. You whimpered as he slowly began to pull out.
"You okay, lovie?" Hobie asked as he smoothed his hands over the marks he dug into your hips. You sighed as you soaked in every dip and curve of his body pressed against yours: from his calloused fingertips lingering on your skin to his softening cock still trapped between your cum-coated walls.
"I...I just want us to stay like this," you said while biting your lip, your heart pounding against your sternum as you fluttered your lashes. "Please?" you cooed. Hobie chuckled softly as he gave a slow nod.
"As you wish," he hummed. You squeaked when he suddenly wrapped his lanky arms around your torso and plopped onto his side.
"Hobie!" you laughed as he pecked your neck while pulling you flush against him. You giggled at the cheeky smile plastered on his face as he peppered your neck with slow, lazy kisses. Your body glowed with warmth as he sighed and traced his fingertips over the curves of your stomach.
"You're so special t'me, y'know that?" Hobie said, his voice hoarse yet also endearingly soft. You slowly turned your head and gave him a gentle smile.
"You're special to me, too, Hobie," you murmured before kissing the tip of his pierced nose. Your boyfriend grinned ear-to-ear as he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into your neck.
"Love you, babydoll," Hobie murmured as he slowly closed his eyes. You giggled when he suddenly let out a loud snore, the sound rumbling through your ear as his chest rose and fell. You cooed and pecked his cheek before pulling the covers over your worn bodies.
"Love you, too, Hobie," you whispered gently.
————
Thank you for reading! 💖
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cursingtoji · 9 months
Note
hi ! for cliches could you do “fake dating” with gojo please ?
𝑭𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈
cw: fluff, naoya ┊The Clichés ™
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“You’re buying matcha Daifuku after this or I’ll never talk to you again” Satoru reminded when you were about to arrive the Zenin state.
“Stop complaining, I already told you I will. Besides, you’re gonna get free food here” you adjusted your kimono.
“Like I would eat anything made by a Zenin.”
“You really don’t know them if you think they cook their own food.”
Your family was invited to a wedding at the Zenin state, you didn’t actually knew the couple but your parents did, and they insisted that you had to go to meet Naoya cause ‘you two would be great together’. After that you panicked and told them you were in fact dating and you would only come if you could bring your boyfriend as a plus one.
Of course your parents were a bit disappointed but once you told them your boyfriend was no other than a Gojo they agreed.
“So, just stay by my side the whole time and in a few days I’ll just tell my parents we broke up, by then Naoya will be back in Tokyo so they won’t try to play cupid anymore.”
“What makes you think I wanna break up?” he placed his arm around your shoulders which you immediately pushed away.
“Listen—” you moved to stay in front of him, only then realizing how beautiful he looked with his dark kimono and no sunglasses, you picked the outfit yourself so neither him or you wouldn’t stand out, the less attention you got from the Zenins the better. That proved to quite impossible when your friend had the prettiest features anyone could wish for.
“I’m listening” he teased when a few seconds passed and you still haven’t said anything, “Like what you see?”
“I’m— Shut up” you moved back to his side lacing your arms together and passing through the gates.
Your parents met you there and you formally introduced Gojo to them. Satoru of course couldn’t help but being… Satoru.
“I can see where your daughter inherited such beauty” he directed to your mom who giggled, “Sir I heard so much about you and what a great father you are to my precious girl” you wanted to throw up. The one thing you told Satoru about your dad was his name.
“Excuse me, I need to find the toilet” you headed there trying to avoid any Zenin on your way. As soon as you were done your mother was waiting for you nearby with no one other than Naoya Zenin.
“Darling, come here. Have you met Naoya before?” you took a look at him. He was tall, no as much as Satoru, and surprisingly handsome, again no as much as Satoru. Yet even the slightest chance of becoming a Zenin made you want to run away as fast as you could.
“Pleasure” he said simply.
“Likewise” you replied dryly.
“I’ll leave you two to talk” your mother claimed and walked away. Unbelievable.
“Your mother told me you are with the Gojo kid. If you don’t mind me asking: how did you two met?” he seemed to be suspicious, could your mom have told him she wasn’t sure about the legitimacy of this relationship?
“Hm—“
“We met at Jujutsu Tech, during the joined event between Tokyo and Kyoto” Satoru appeared to your side magically. Naoya raised his brows slightly but didn’t really moved, like a human being teleported in front of him wasn’t really worth being surprised, “It was love at first sight” he placed his hand on your waist, Naoya’s eyes were fixed on your blushing face.
“You two are quite young to be in a serious relationship” he observed. Indeed both you and Gojo were in the last year of Jujutsu Tech, you in Kyoto and him in Tokyo. That weekend he miraculously was in Kyoto for a mission and as soon as he texted you that you already asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend for that event.
Naoya shouldn’t be more than a couple years older than you, but you knew his intentions were to disqualify your relationship, which was quite courageous since your pretended boyfriend was one of the strongest sorcerers.
“And you are quite old to not be a in a relationship, what’s the problem? Can’t find a submissive wife nowadays?” you lighted elbowed Gojo. Even though you didn’t like the Zenins your parents had business with them, so it was best to keep being friendly.
Naoya squinted his eyes, probably thinking ‘how dare him’. That conversation was getting dangerous, the last thing you wanted was to cause a conflict in a house full of powerful sorcerers.
“You should go, thanks for receiving us” you pulled Satoru before their cursed energy raised and everyone directed their attention at the three of you, “Seriously?” you asked when you were out in the garden with him alone.
“Sorry, sweets, I just can’t stand him and the way he was looking at you. The audacity of this guy…” you adjusted your hair to cover the heat on your face.
The truth was you and Satoru weren’t really close, you only hanged out together once a year during the days of the Kyoto x Tokyo event and the times when he was in Kyoto for a mission or you in Tokyo. That’s why Gojo was surprised when you called him to pretend to be your boyfriend and how could he say no when he has been crushing on you since day one?
“We don’t have to stay until the ceremony, I’ll tell my parents we got called for a mission—“ you felt Satoru’s warm hand on your cheek and he moved your face to look at him, as soon as you met his piercing blue eyes you lost track of your thoughts.
He slowly approached his face to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation for a kiss. His hand held your face gently but his lips kissed you strongly and stood there for a few seconds, enough to make your heart beat faster than it did during a fight.
“He’s looking at us” Satoru whispered making you open your eyes, he was facing the windows of the house you just left.
“Oh” you couldn’t hold the disappointment in your voice.
“You’re right, you should go, the cursed energy in this house is overwhelming me” he massaged his temple.
“No one told you to come without your sunglasses.”
“Please, like you didn’t want everyone to see what a gorgeous set of blue eyes your boyfriend has” you giggled. ‘Your boyfriend’ was a tittle Satoru could get used to, “Besides I’ve been wanting to try something different” he pulled a black fabric from his pocket.
“Is that a mask?”
“Yeah, it covers more than the glasses and doesn’t wear me out so much, it looks weird though.”
“Can I?” you asked for the mask and he handed to you, “Bend down a little bit.”
Satoru flex his knees to be closed to your height, your fingers brushed his hair back before surrounding his eyes with the blindfold and tying it on the back, Gojo could still see the shape of your face due to the cursed energy and he smiled once he noted the darker shade around your cheeks.
“W—What are you smiling for?” you let go of the fabric adjusting his hair a little bit more.
“Nothing, sweets” he pinched your cheeks.
“Take a look” you pulled a mirror from your tiny purse and handed to him, the way you put his hair was way better than what he was doing before, now it didn’t seem like he was about to hit a piñata.
“What do you think?” he asked, it was weird not seeing his eyes but you knew he was going to feel better like that.
“It’s okay… you look nice” you murmured not wanting to give him too much to brag about.
“Haha you think i’m super handsome, don’t you?”
And he did it anyways.
“No, let’s go.”
“Time for matcha daifuku” he placed his arm around your shoulders and you didn’t pushed away this time.
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embrosegraves · 4 months
Text
𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕎𝕒𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤?
(request) Sebastian Vettel x Reader  The reader hasn’t seen Seb for A While™ and he notices something different “I know every inch of your body and I know for a fact that scar wasn’t there before.
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It was at the beginning of the triple header when it happened. Sebastian had only just gotten to his hotel room when he sent you a text that had distracted you from the knife you were using to make dinner. It only took a few seconds of distraction for the knife to slip from its place in your hand and fall towards the floor, the tip of the blade grazing your uncovered thigh none too gently. 
It wasn’t a horrible cut, but there was quite a bit of blood welling up. The length of the cut also wasn’t too bad, though there would definitely be a scar when it healed. Later when you looked back at the incident, you would find amusement at the fact that the pain had not gained your attention until after you heard the knife clatter on the tiles of your kitchen. 
Cursing under your breath, you picked up the knife and placed it in the sink before making your way to grab what you needed from the first aid kit. You cleaned the cut and put a bandaid over the top just to stop the bleeding for now. 
Finishing up your dinner, you sat down answering Sebastian's text and completely forgot about the cut. 
You were sitting on the couch, texting your family’s group chat when you heard the front door unlock and open. You smiled to yourself as you knew that the only other person who had keys was Sebastian, which meant that he was finally home from the triple header. 
“Liebe, I’m home!” 
“In the living room My Love!” 
You waited eagerly for Sebastian to walk into the room. You had missed him incredibly these last three weeks. It felt like so much time had passed and you just could help the excitement at seeing your partner after so long. 
Sebastian finally made his way to you, picking up your legs and laying them across his lap once he sat down on the couch. Your favourite thing about Sebastian, without fail, was that he did things for you without any sort of prompting. As soon as your legs had settled over his lap he immediately started massaging your feet. 
You spent a good few hours just talking to each other, catching up on whatever you had missed from your almost daily facetime calls. You praised him for racing well and, ever the humble man, he blushed and brushed it off as ‘just doing his job’. As you talked with each other, Sebastian’s hands went higher and higher up your legs, massaging the sore spots and gently caressing your skin. 
It was when he finally got to your thighs as you were rambling about your co-worker’s latest gossip, that he found himself freezing. You felt him stop moving immediately, which confused you greatly. 
“Darling? Are you alright?” you asked. 
“Schatz, I know every inch of your body and I know for a fact that scar wasn’t there before.” This confused you more. Scar? What scar did you- oh. Right, that scar. 
“Oh that, yeah that was a complete accident. I didn’t even mean for that to happen, it just sort of- did. It’s not that bad honestly, just needed to clean it, disinfect it and then cover it with a band-aid. It didn’t even hurt when it happened, which I think is kinda funny.” Part of you knew that you should’ve told Sebastian about it when it happened, but you had genuinely forgot that you had accidentally cut yourself, so now you were trying your best to downplay it so he didn’t worry. There was no point in trying, Sebastian would worry regardless. 
“What happened? When did it happen and why wasn’t I told?” Sebastian ‘The Worrywart’ Vettel ladies and gentlemen. 
“Uhh I’m pretty sure it was the first night you left. I was making dinner and you texted me saying that you got to the hotel. I got distracted and the knife slipped but like I said it wasn’t bad. It’s basically all healed up now so you don’t have to worry.” You didn’t know why you kept trying to tell him not to worry as if he would listen. He wouldn’t. 
“I don’t care if it’s healed or not, I’m going to look after you so no more cuts mark your pretty skin.” 
Another thing you loved about Sebastian: he looked after you better than anyone.
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Give this bitch a medal, they got a fucking fic out! 1/3 requests complete, now I'm gonna move to the next one
as always, I hope you enjoyed. likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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t-lostinworlds · 5 months
Text
Competitively Stupid | Steve Harrington
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》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader
》 TROPE/GENRE: rivals-ish (since childhood) to lovers, some angst; fluff
》 SUMMARY: It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.
》 WARNINGS: canon divergent (everyone is alive & well & happy thanks), pet names (sweetheart, baby), shitty parents (on both sides), competitiveness on all accounts, r is basically a counterpart of steve during high school (cheerleading captain, queen of hawkins high, swim team captain, etc.), peer pressure-ish, some stupid decisions & stupider actions, very irresponsible cliff jumping (which doesn't end well), drowning, CPR, injuries, an emotional moment™, love confessions, and a happy, sappy ending.
》 WORD COUNT: 5.3k+
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A/N: hi! okay, well, it's been a while since i posted a steve fic so i'm kinda nervous ngl. also, not me making it a habit to include swimmer!steve in all my fics from here on out. this was meant to be short & sweet to dust off the cobwebs but lol. super random. i saw a video of someone cliff-jumping & boom, the idea was born. also, not me using the first aid training i learned in college.
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📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE H. MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
This was stupid.
Absolutely idiotic.
You genuinely have no idea why you were even doing this in the first place.
"There's no way you can do it."
Right.
That's why.
The taunting voice of Steve fucking Harrington was the reason why you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a thirty-foot drop into the dark ocean.
This was supposed to be a relaxing trip with your new found family.
"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?" Robin sighed, so completely over the fact that her two best friends who never got along no matter what she tried, somehow came to an agreement to not listen to her right now.
Not that you could blame her.
You and Steve had been rivals ever since you were kids.
It was what you had always known.
What with narcissistic parents who used their children as pawns to one up each other, you had been conditioned to see him as an enemy from the second you step foot into their home.
Your family was invited into the Harrington residence for dinner as a way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. You recently just moved in, so you didn't know anyone else yet. When you heard that the next-door neighbor had a son who was your age, you had been really excited to gain a new friend.
All that changed when your dad sat you down an hour before, prepping you about how the Harringtons were a respected family in the town, and that you needed to show them you weren't any less than them, if not show them you were better. He drilled it in your brain to be on your best behavior, to be the best and the perfect daughter.
It only got worse when you finally sat down at that dinner table.
The comparisons were endless.
"See, my daughter here is a wonderful gymnast, quite amazing for someone her age."
"How wonderful. Steven here has swimming lessons every weekend. His coach said he might end up in the Olympic team once he's of age."
"Splendid. How about his academics? I'm sure he can take inspiration from my daughter's exemplary grades."
"He's the top of his class. Maybe if they study together, your daughter would be able to catch up in time."
It was harsh, pitting two seven-year-olds against each other—impressionable kids who only wanted to make their mom and dad proud.
But neither your parents nor his truly gave a shit. All they cared about was becoming the best family in the street, if not the whole town.
The sad thing was, those dinners became a regular thing, held alternately between your house and his.
It always looked like a preparation for battle whenever your mom would pull out the finest china in her collection along with the cookbook she only ever used for special occasions.
It was in the guise of cordiality when it was, in fact, an excuse to show off, to make a competition out of everything, a moment to compare who did what best. Those dinners were like monthly scoreboards, tallying up the respective families' recent achievements—and that included yours and Steve's.
Nobody was surprised that the competitiveness stuck with you both.
And it only got worse during high school.
Whether that was something as mundane as winning the popularity contest when running different circles—even going as far as getting crowned the King and Queen of Hawkins High—down to academics and extracurriculars.
Captain of the basketball team. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Prom Queen. Prom King. MVP of the season. Brightest student of the year. Beer pong Queen. Kegstand King. Best summer camp counselor. Lifeguard of the month and it went on and on and on and on.
When he got co-captain for the men's swim team, you rubbed it in his face that you were the captain of the women's team. When you got second place at the science fair, he made sure to rub his first place medal right in your face. When you became president of the student council, you ordered him around to do extra work whenever the basketball team was required to help with community service.
It was a constant back and forth.
There was always a competition between you and Steve Harrington.
And sure, since you graduated, it became subdued. But it was still very much there. Vying on who was the coolest babysitter in your band of ragtags, even fighting to have the title of Robin Buckley's ultimate best friend.
This thing between you and Steve was deeply rooted. So there really wasn't much Robin could do apart from getting in between your frequent squabbles before you started actually killing each other.
In Robin's words, something drastic had to happen for you both to finally wake up and see that this rivalry between you both wasn't what it seemed to be on the surface.
You had no idea what she was even implying.
Now, on a little getaway on the nearest beach you could drive to, the competition started with a race on who could get there first. It wasn't even fair seeing that you weren't the one driving.
The group had split into two, some were in Eddie's van—along with everyone's belongings since he had ample space in the back—while the others were in Steve's Beemer. Since you and Steve couldn't be in the same room together without an argument ensuing, it was a unanimous decision to have you two separated. Nobody wanted to deal with that for hours on the road.
Not that you could blame them, either.
And sure, it was the kids who suggested the race, but with Steve's smug smirk and that arrogant wink he threw once you got into Eddie's passenger seat, you knew it was game on between you too.
Yet despite the metal head being a fast—albeit slightly reckless—driver, he somehow took his sweet goddamn time getting to your destination.
Only when your group arrived at the beach last, did he say something about Steve threatening him to be extra careful with driving because there's important cargo in his van—whatever the hell that meant.
You lost to Steve on that one, but you would argue it was rigged from the start.
The next was a supposed friendly bout on who could build the biggest sandcastle that didn't topple over after a few minutes.
It was boys versus girls with you and him being team leaders. The girls won, obviously and El never used her powers. It was fair and square since the other team mostly argued over everything they could think of and had no teamwork at all. You made sure to point that out to Steve as you watched their sandcastle crumble into ruins.
Another one was beach volleyball. Same leaders as before, but you get to pick the members of your teams this time. Steve made it his mission to pick the tallest of the bunch. Still, it wasn't the advantage he thought it was because it ended up being one point too close.
Your team would've won if Steve wasn't such a dramatic asshole.
It was truly an accident. When you spiked that ball, you were not aiming for his face. He simply thought it was a good idea to catch the ball with it. Besides, he was distracted, flirting with some random girl in a bikini who was passing by, right in the middle of the game.
How was it your fault that he wasn't paying attention?
He made sure to oversell his injury after that, curled up on the sand as the girl fussed over him. But you saw that smirk on his face. You would've hit him again—definitely not by accident this time—if you weren't busy arguing with Robin about the point deduction. She said it was only fair since you hit the ball when she hadn't blown her imaginary whistle yet.
You decided to let it go when Steve commented on you being a whiny sore loser.
Unfortunately, the competition was ending with who could make jumping off a cliff and into the ocean look the coolest—adults only, despite the groans of protest from the mischievous bunch.
Eddie offered to stay behind and watch the rascals. When teased, he simply said he didn't want to test Death today.
His comment didn't help your nerves.
Robin said she was only coming purely as a voice of reason. She'd been saying nonstop how it was a horribly stupid idea, that there really was no need to be doing this in the first place.
But Steve wasn't backing down, so you weren't going to either.
So once again, it was only you and him.
As it always had been.
He volunteered to go first, throwing in a comment about rushing back up the cliff's edge before you could take your turn because he wanted a front-row seat for when you'd chicken out.
It only made you want to do it more.
His dive was smooth, almost flawless, you admit. He even showed off with a little flip near the end. It didn't take long for him to swim back to the shore, either. His years of training as a swimmer were obviously paying off.
But you trained just as much if not more than he had.
The only difference was, adrenaline didn't fuel you as much as it did Steve. So instead of getting all powered up looking down at a cliff's edge like he was, you were terrified.
But who wouldn’t get scared looking down at harsh waves crashing against sharp and jagged rocks? There was no margin for error here because one wrong slip and you'd be dead.
Still, if Steve could do it, you could do it better.
You weren't about to lose to his stupid ass.
"I'm not listening to him," you argued back, taking in a shaky breath as you took a step.
"He's doing reverse psychology!" she squeaked. "So you doing it is still listening to him!"
"I'm fine, Robs, I can do it," you mumbled, a slight questioning lilt at the end of your sentence.
"Look, sweetheart, it's okay to admit defeat," Steve said, cocky voice with an even cockier smile as he crossed his toned arms against his bare chest. His hair was still damp, quick to climb back up so he could get his front-row seat as he promised.
But you weren't chickening out.
Never.
"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you lost to me so, it shouldn't sting as much."
You ignored him.
Instead, you took another step, the tips of your toes now hanging over the edge.
You can do this. Wipe that smug smirk off his face. You got this.
"Listen, you don't have to do—"
"Shut it, Harrington," you growled.
With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, counting from three, two, one…
You jumped.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-
This was stupid.
Absolutely idiotic.
He shouldn't have pressured you like that.
The jump wasn't deadly, per se, but it also wasn't exactly deemed the safest, especially if you weren't an expert in any sort of way.
And he didn't want to say it out loud because if he did, he knew it would only push you to do it more just to prove him wrong.
But Steve could see how scared you were.
He was already dropping the act, voice laced with concern as he started telling you that he wasn't worth all of this, that he was stupid and that you were always going to be better than him.
But, obviously, you didn't listen.
You simply jumped.
You and your stupidly competitive ass.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, rushing to the edge of the cliff, tensely watching your falling figure disappear into the water with a splash.
"You two are complete idiots."
"Shut up," Steve gritted, never looking away from the water. Yet any annoyance was quickly overpowered by sheer worry as he scanned the deep blue for anything.
There was no sign of you.
"Like seriously! It's like I'm the only one with a brain cell here!"
"Come on, come on, come on," Steve mumbled, completely ignoring Robin when you still hadn't emerged to the surface. "Come on, Y/N, don't scare me like this."
"Uh, Steve?" Robin asked after a moment, carefully looking over the cliff before shooting him a worried glance. "You look anxious and you being anxious is making me nervous."
"She hasn't come up," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.
It was nearing a minute.
"Maybe you didn't see her?"
"I haven't taken my eyes off the water, Buckley," he gritted, too harsh and uncalled for since Robin didn't do anything wrong.
But he was panicking.
A minute and thirty seconds.
"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it. You're an amazing swimmer," he whispered encouragingly, hoping some sort of magic would let you hear him underwater all while saying it aloud for his own sanity.
Two minutes.
You could never hold your breath any longer than that.
Steve knew because he always won that competition.
And that was in a calm pool.
"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, gearing up to dive after you. "I don't think she's coming up!"
"Okay! Okay," Robin rushed, panicking. "Maybe she's already on the shore. We should go down now and see—"
Steve didn't listen.
He jumped right after you.
The biting cold was awakening.
Still, it was the absolute fear of losing you that was keeping him alert.
He ignored the sting of the salty ocean water in his eyes as he frantically searched for you, his heart beating hard and fast, struggling for oxygen all while fearing for your safety.
Steve didn't know which came first, relief or dread when finally found you, aimlessly floating and unconscious under the deep blue.
He swam to you as fast he could, securely hooking his arm under your shoulder and dragging you up to the surface.
Steve always knew that adrenaline can give you a random boost of strength when needed. He simply didn't expect that to be proven true when he was carrying your unresponsive body in his arms as he brought you to the shore.
He gently placed you on your back on the sand, cupping your face as he checked for any injuries.
You were so cold.
"Hey, hey, wake up," he begged, grabbing your shoulders to try and shake you awake.
Nothing.
"You didn't have to make the jump, you idiot. Why do you always want to prove me wrong," he scolded with no ounce of anger, only worry. He started tapping your cheek frantically. "Come on, wake up!"
Still no response.
"Dammit, Y/N, why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn," he scolded, his voice shaking in fear, his chest tightening as he pressed two fingers against your pulse point.
His own heart stopped when he couldn't feel yours.
And you weren't breathing.
Steve tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked now, he wouldn't be able to give you the aid that you direly need.
"Come on, Harrington. You know what to do. You trained for this," he mumbled to himself, getting into the proper position to give you CPR.
He gently cupped your forehead with his left hand, his other two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up.
"You're going to be okay," he whispered, pinching your nose before slotting his lips against yours.
Breathing into your mouth, one, two, he watched your chest rise as it filled up with air, only for it to settle back down without coming back up again. He quickly kneeled straighter, locking his fingers together and placing the heel of his left hand in the middle of your chest, pushing down with enough pressure to try and get your heart to start again.
"One, two, three, four, come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," he mumbled, easily finding the right rhythm, his first aid training as a lifeguard coming back to him like it was second nature.
Still, he never wanted to use this skill in a real-life situation, much less use it on you.
It was the longest thirty counts in his life.
Check for a pulse. Check for breathing.
Still nothing.
"Goddammit, Y/N, come on!" he growled, blinking back the tears as he pressed his mouth against yours again.
Two rescue breaths.
Thirty chest compressions.
Steve repeated the cycle over and over. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his knees were burning as the rough sand dug deeper into his skin, and his arms were starting to get sore, tiredness slowly covering his aching muscles.
But he'd rather die first than give up on you now.
"Steve—"
"Call for help, Robin!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. When he didn't hear any movement, he yelled, "Don't just stand there! Go!"
He was going to apologize for being an asshole later. For now, he needed you to fucking breathe.
"Come on, come on, please," he begged, leaning back down to give you two more rescue breaths. "Breathe for me, baby, please."
Thirty chest compressions.
"Trying to prove me wrong when I've always been wrong, you idiot."
Five, six, seven—
"Sweetheart, come on," he choked back a sob. "Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid, huh? You know Robin can't do it alone."
Twelve, thirteen, fourteen—
"And you're really going to leave me alone to watch our kids?"
Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—
"Y/N, baby, please, I can't live without you," he whimpered.
Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—
Steve felt his breath leave his lungs when you finally gasped for air.
He quickly turned you to your side, rubbing your back as you choked out all the ocean water that got into your system.
"There you go, you're okay," he whispered, whether to reassure you or himself, he didn't even know anymore. All he was focused on was making sure you were going to be okay.
"S-Stevie?" you coughed out the nickname that was only ever used by you.
It was the equivalent to his nickname for you—sweetheart.
Names that started out to annoy each other but the more often it was used as time passed, it only managed to grow into an endearment that held something warm underneath it. You both were quick to realize that the nicknames you had for each other weren't out of spite anymore.
Neither of you simply addressed it.
"Steady, sweetheart, I'm right here," he reassured, hurriedly getting into your line of sight to stop you from trying to turn around to face him. He gently cupped your cheek, offering you a soft smile when your gaze found him. "I'm not going anywhere."
You nodded as best as you could, your eyes clinging onto his brown ones only for them to screw shut when a shiver ran through your whole body.
"C-Cold," you stammered.
"I know, I know, come here," he said softly, guiding you to sit up before quickly settling behind you. He gently pulled you closer between his legs, his chest pressed against your back as he blanketed his body over yours, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.
You turned to face him slightly, burying your face into his neck only for you to wince at the slight movement. He quickly tried to steady you again, checking over you twice to look for any visible injury. But he couldn't find any.
"Tell me what hurts," he asked, pressing his lips against your cold forehead as he fully wrapped his arms around you.
"A-Ankle," you whimpered in pain, your grip on his waist tightening and God he hated that sound so much.
You must've rolled it when you jumped, and having landed on it when you reached the water, it definitely made it worse.
"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured, littering kisses against the side of your head to try and keep your mind off it. "Robin already called for help, they should be on their way, alright?"
You gave him a small nod, inching even closer to him, seeking as much warmth from him as possible. Your cold breath was tickling his skin but he didn’t care. Hell, you could be breathing fucking ice and he still wouldn’t give a shit.
As long as you were breathing.
"I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"
"I-I'll try," you whispered.
"First to fall asleep is the biggest loser," he mumbled, squeezing you slightly when he felt your eyes flutter close. "And you wouldn't want me to win this, babe, because I'll be a little shit about it."
"Not f-fair," you choked out a laugh.
"It's plenty fair," Steve chuckled tearfully, ignoring the sudden wetness on his cheeks. He hugged you tighter instead. "So stay awake or you'll lose to me. Again."
"Right there! They're right over there!"
Steve had never been so grateful to hear Robin's voice.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-
"So are you finally going to tell her?"
"Tell her what?" Steve questioned back, unable to take his eyes off of you, soundly sleeping in a hospital bed with your foot now wrapped in a cast.
The doctor had already checked everything and thankfully, there weren't any further injuries apart from your twisted ankle.
Now, all you needed was to rest and recover.
"That you've been in love with her this whole time."
Steve sighed, squeezing your hand before turning to look at his best friend.
"I'm not in love with her, Robs."
"Right," she scoffed, raising a knowing brow. "Because jumping off a cliff with zero hesitation so you could save her is totally normal behavior for someone you claim you hate."
"I never said I hated her," he argued, and it was true. He couldn't think of a single moment where he hated you.
"Yeah, well, you two definitely don't act like you like each other."
"Does she annoy and frustrate the shit out of me? Yes. But I never hated her," he admitted.
Steve didn't know what it was exactly, maybe it was his tiredness muddling his brain, maybe it was from everything that happened in the last couple of hours finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the overwhelming need to confess everything into the open before it was too late—and it almost had been. Either way, he found himself suddenly spewing out all the things that he always just kept to himself.
"She's also been the most constant person in my life, you know? Hell, we basically grew up together. I can't just not care about her," he continued, memories flooding his system before he could even stop it. "She's been so ingrained in my life, her and the cute dresses she wore at those stupid dinners our parents always dragged us to. Her and her stupid competitions whenever our babysitters would bring us to the park together. Her and that stupid dance she always did whenever she won at anything even if it was my expense—she always does this cute little wiggle whenever she won, and that never left her even as we got older," Steve chuckled at the thought.
"And fuck, don't even get me started with how similar our parents are. She's the only one who will always get me when it comes to that," he continued. "And yeah, we compete a lot, but there was no hatred between us. Maybe at the start but all that went away when we learned that whatever our parents were feeding us was bullshit—that they were bullshit.
"And fine, did I sometimes get so annoyed whenever she got a new boyfriend? Yeah. But only because she always had this bad habit of dating fucking assholes. I don't know where she got those dickheads from but every time I see a glimpse of her crying by her window at night I swear to fucking God I would've killed every single one of those assholes if she asked," he gritted, slumping down in his seat with a sigh.
"She deserves to be treated right, you know? She's already experiencing so much shit at home, she doesn't need any more of that anywhere else. Sure, she irritates me to no end but that doesn't mean she's not a sweet girl who always cried whenever some random pet commercial came on the TV during the holidays. Does her competitiveness drive me up the wall? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean I don't feel so fucking proud of her whenever she wins another medal or achieves another milestone. And yeah, I wonder about how she's doing, if she's taking care of herself, if she's getting enough sleep between her work and classes. But that's only because I worry, you know?
"And maybe I do think about her a lot but that doesn't mean I'm in love with…"
Steve blinked.
Well fuck.
"Wow," Robin marveled. "You're stupider than I thought."
"He hit his head as a kid, cut him some slack."
Steve paled at the sound of your voice, swiftly turning red at the thought that you probably heard all the things he said.
He turned to face you, groaning in annoyance when he saw the smug smile on your lips. "You've been awake this whole time?"
"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Robin sang, quickly slipping out of the hospital room and closing the door behind her.
"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Enough to say you're stupid," you hummed.
He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. "I'm not the one who jumped off the cliff and almost died just to prove a fucking point."
"Yeah, well, I guess we're both stupid then," you snorted.
He shrugged. "I guess we are."
"Jesus, you don't have to act so tense. I mean, you've already given me a mouth-to-mouth, we've practically made out already," you scoffed playfully. "I honestly thought I'd die first before swapping spit with you yet here we are."
It was your attempt at alleviating the tension, to throw in a funny quip. But with everything still so fresh in his mind, Steve simply couldn't take it well.
"Don't fucking joke about that will you?" he snapped, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.
The silence that followed only made the tension worse.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Steve immediately felt bad.
"No, no, no. You didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize," he sighed, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just—"
He stopped himself, chewing on his bottom as he looked everywhere but at you when he felt the tears well up again.
"Will you come here?"
Steve took a calming breath and did as you asked, moving his chair closer but didn't attempt anything else than that.
"Stevie," you called when he still wouldn't look at you.
Harshly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he lifted his head. You smiled at him sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to come even closer.
"You scared me back there," he croaked, taking your hand with a squeeze.
"I didn't mean to," you softly said, remorseful and apologetic even though you didn't have to be.
"I know," he murmured, pressing your warm palm against his cheek as he shot you a glare. "Just don't do that again."
"Promise," you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
Steve leaned closer into your touch. "How are you feeling?"
"Better, thanks to you," you hummed, brows furrowing in thought. "When Marcus got that black eye, you said it was because he was playing dirty on one of your games." You tilted your head knowingly. "That wasn't true, wasn't it?"
Steve shrugged. "He hurt you."
"It was a small bruise on the arm, Steve," you reasoned.
"He shouldn't be giving you a fucking bruise in the first place," he growled, the memory bringing back the same anger he felt when he first saw that bruise. The soft tapping of your finger against his cheek calmed him down. "Sorry."
"Did you lose on purpose to get him expelled?"
"What? No!" he scoffed, offended, rolling his eyes when you giggled. "I tried so fucking hard to win that fight, you know, for you."
"You've always been protective of me," you hummed, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together.
"Don't think I didn't know it was you who dyed that poor girl's hair green that one year in middle school summer camp," he retaliated.
It was a sharp and piercing scream that woke up the whole camp that morning. Everyone rushed out of bed to see what was going on only to find a girl who once was blonde was now sporting bright green hair in the middle of the crowd, crying her eyes out.
Steve would've thought it was only some silly prank if he didn't know who the girl was. But he did. Because the day before he tried to ask her to be his girlfriend, only for her to turn him down in the most embarrassing and humiliating way possible.
It wasn't difficult for him to find out who the culprit was since he immediately noticed how you kept hiding your hands in your pockets for the next few days after the incident.
The counselors quickly found out that the little menace—whoever she was—decided to use permanent dye on the poor girl's hair instead of something washable.
Your green palms colored you oh so guilty.
"She called you pathetic and gross in front of everyone!" you argued, pouting. "You looked like you were about to cry and I hated it."
Steve's heart warmed at that, a smile on his face despite rolling his eyes. "I wasn't about to cry."
"Yeah well," you shrugged, eyes trained on your intertwined fingers, your thumb playing with his. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be mean to you."
"Hmm," he agreed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. "I guess we've always been there for each other, huh?"
"I guess so," you giggled, cupping his cheek and tugging him closer.
He stood up from his seat, following your lead until he was pressing his forehead against yours.
"Thank you for saving my life, Steve," you whispered, eyes turning glossy as so many emotions covered your irises, the weight of what almost happened catching up with you.
"You don't have to thank me for that," he said sincerely, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "I'd do it over and over again in a heartbeat."
You nodded, sniffling, "Still, thank you."
Steve wasn't able to argue some more when you all but kissed him.
The first time Steve felt your mouth on his was a horrible experience considering he was trying to keep you alive.
Now, everything was the complete opposite.
A kiss that was careful but sweet, a hint of nervousness and excitement all the same, completely unhurried yet burning with passion as his lips molded against yours.
But still, it felt like that first gasp of air—a finally.
"I'm in love with you, too, by the way," you murmured as you pulled away, your warm breath tickling his lips.
"Thanks for clarifying," he chuckled, eyes laced with adoration, unable to stop his smile from growing wider, warmer. "I couldn't figure that out from the kiss."
"I mean, you are kinda stupid," you teased.
"We're on that same boat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I'm sure Robin would remind us about that every single day now."
"Unfortunately," you groaned playfully. "God, she gets annoying when she's right."
"Tell me about it," he hummed, brushing his lips against yours, moving away when you chased it.
You whined.
Steve didn't hesitate to dive back in.
✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
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