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#nine minutes and twenty nine seconds
cyarsk52-20 · 11 months
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Three years later, Black Americans are three times more likely to be killed by police. Let's honor George Floyd by continuing the fight against injustice. Join us at http://takeaction.mtv.com. @mtv Twitter
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cyarskj1899 · 2 years
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What should be Uvalde police new motto because this is who they are
honestly they’re no different than all the police officers in America.
it takes 77 minutes (4620 seconds) for 400 cops to stop a one shooter but I bet that on my black life that if that same shooter was a unarmed black man who had twenty dollars in their pockets like George Floyd two years ago the police would have instantly killed him without asking permission, using hand sanitizer, and looking at their phones in 9 minutes (540 seconds) and twenty nine seconds !
Heck, a teenager who filmed the aforementioned murder two years ago had more bravery than 400 police almost five months ago and all she wanted was to go to the store that day
For those who are now recognized that cops are not heroes and they basically the bastards, welcome to the bandwagon. People been knew about them. Especially black men ,women and children even before the year of reckoning
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mushroomtricolor · 2 years
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me: yeah tenta missiles is ridiculous but i’m not mad at people for using it, like if it works then why not use it lol
tenta missiles users:
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me:
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red-might-be-dead · 5 months
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KIER AND DEV UPLOADED AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO TELL ME??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
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sunlightmurdock · 5 months
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Hey, Neighbour! | DBF!Jake Seresin x Reader (18+)
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Synopsis: Jake’s been having a problem recently, and when the power goes out next door, everything quickly comes to a head.
Warnings: dad’s best friend trope. Age gap. Reader is in her mid-20s, Jake’s around 40. Obviously unbalanced power dynamic. No use of Y/N. Reader’s dad has a name. Mention of reader having a piercing. Smut. Pure filth and pining. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Unprotected pinv. Creampie. Jake has no respect for his best friend’s furniture. Choking briefly. Please comment / Reblog, it’s greatly appreciated. Wc: 8.5k. Minors dni, you will be blocked.
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Jake clicks the television off and pushes himself up from the couch, joined by his shadow of a German shepherd called Ace. They walk together to the sound of the meek little knock at his front door, Jake’s gym socks padding along his dark wood floors along the way.
It’s late. Too late for whoever is at his front door to be bearing good news. He twists the door handle and pulls it open, rolling back his aching shoulders. This late at night, he has a good idea of who’s going to be standing on his porch.
As expected, standing there and shivering in your dad’s coat and a pair of slippers, is exactly the last person that Jake was hoping to see.
You see, Jake has had a bit of a problem since he moved in to this neighbourhood.
Quite a substantial one, in the grand scheme of things, and one that seems to just be getting worse by the minute.
Suburbia was meant to be Jake’s reprieve from his bachelor lifestyle. His escapades have been worrying his mother to death for going on two decades now, and it came time that even Jake agreed that it was time to wisen up about his love life. With all of the deployments, and all of the time away from home, it had been beyond easy to never fall into anything serious. By the time he was twenty-nine, Jake’s longest ever relationship was two and a half months, which was alarming given the number of women he had encountered by then.
Two things happened that sent Jake here, to this cute little cul-de-sac in suburban San Diego, one — Jake’s job became more secure, and guaranteed that he would spend at least ninety percent of his remaining career here on the west coast. Second, he proposed to a woman. A beautiful woman, that he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with.
She liked his house, it looked like the one her parents had raised her in. So, he bought the house and he bought a dog, and swore that he was going to try to settle down. Six months later, it was just him and the dog. Payton apologised profusely, and she’d apologise even more if he ever ran into her again, he just wasn’t right for her.
Things weren’t so bad though. Jake and Ace liked the peace and quiet, and the guy next door was actually pretty cool. Jack, the airline pilot with a mean golf swing and a great nose for the best sports bars in town. He’s a little older than Jake, with a hell of a lot more to show for it, including three grown up kids.
It’s been a couple of years now, and Jake’s practically part of the family. He knows everything there is to know. He’s there on birthdays, holidays, emergencies — he loves this family. But he has a problem.
His problem was manageable at first. So, Jack’s youngest daughter might have caught Jake’s attention at first. You were visiting home from college and you had stepped out of the car in a tight little pair of shorts and a tank top, and Jake just happened to be standing in Jack’s garage, helping him with a little project, when he first saw you.
And you were funny. Right away cracking some joke about Jake’s less than adept approach to projects around the house. Jake had laughed out loud without even meaning to, and then you’d turned your head and hit him with that mega-watt smile. Bringing new meaning to the term beaming.
God, that pretty fucking smile.
Your humour dances lightly on the nerves of others, like Jake’s, but sweeter. You’re well behaved and back then you had had a dreamy boyfriend who was in pre-med. Perfect in every way.
Even more reason for Jake to keep his hands to himself.
You were Jack’s kid. Jake wouldn’t ever cross that line. It’s just that sometimes… he had to remind himself of this boundary.
He hadn’t ever been close friends with someone where that was even a concern, and truthfully, he had been unprepared for meeting you. In all of the stories Jack told him, you were this cute little kid. Standing before him, you didn’t quite match the image he had of you in his head. This was truly uncharted territory.
Truth be told, there were times when Jake wasn’t so sure you wanted him to hang back. Even when you were still bringing that boyfriend of yours around, Jake caught the way you looked at him.
The way you tug those glossed lips between your teeth and grin around the straw of your drink.
If he was a better friend, or a stronger man, he might have been able to nip his little problem in the bud right away. He had tried, and you were living away from home then, so it was easier. But last month, you had moved back in with your parents and Jake’s life has been nothing but stress ever since.
On occasion, Jake thinks of how he would have to plead his case if someone discovered how he felt. You just don’t know what it’s like when she’s looking at me, man. I swear, I tried to stay away from her, I did.
It’s not his fault that Jack asked him to watch you while your folks were away on that cruise.
Jake’s gaze finally flickers back up to your wounded, hurt baby bunny, expression.
“What’s the matter, cutie? — You alright?” He reaches for you with one hand, gently grabbing at the crook of your elbow and guiding you towards him. That sad little look on your face tugs at his heart strings every time.
“Yeah, I just — I plugged in my phone charger and all the lights went out. I think I tripped a fuse,” All exasperated and frustrated at once, you push your hair back off of your face and frown at him. “Could you come take a look at it for me?”
Jake’s throat grows thick. Under your dad’s heavy work coat, Jake can see the thin white tank top you’re wearing and the blue checkered, boxer style pyjama shorts. But Jack asked him to take care of you.
“Yeah. Of course I can,” Jake nods his head and reaches down to tug at Ace’s black woven collar. “Come in a sec. I just need some shoes.”
There haven’t been too many occasions where you have been inside Jake’s place. Your dad comes here a lot and you’ve been sent over to collect him before dinner on occasion, or to deliver Jake some leftovers.
It’s warm inside, and it smells like woodsmoke and leather. He’s been burning the candle that you got him for his last birthday. You inhale softly, shrugging the coat closer to your body.
In the times that you have been over here, you’re always surprised by how tidy he keeps the place. It’s not what you would have expected of a single guy living all alone.
Jake pulls some sneakers from a tidy shoe organizer disguised to look like an end table and crouches down to put them on his feet. Leaning over, something catches his eye between the heavy fleece of your dad’s unzipped work jacket.
“Did you get your bellybutton pierced?”
The question startles you, drawing attention to the fact that you had been craning your neck and trying to get a look into Jake’s living room. You turn your head, blinking as Jake straightens up and takes a step towards you.
He reaches out and before you know it, his warm fingers are stretching out across your chilled, just exposed navel. His thumb brushes over your soft skin, brows drawing together as he examines the dainty jewelry pushed through your skin.
Swiftly, you take a step back and his hand drops away from your body. “I’ve had it for years.”
There’s a silence between the two of you. Jake’s going to be kicking himself for that for weeks to come. He shouldn’t have reached out and touched you like that. He shouldn’t be commenting on things your father wouldn’t approve of. You’re too grown up for that.
“Huh,” He clicks his tongue, reaching just past your side to grab his house keys from the dish by the door. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go take a look at those lights.”
The shuffle of your slippers cuts through the awkward silence as you cross Jake’s front yard and into yours. It’s late November, and a cold night in particular too. Standing in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, the evening chill makes Jake’s arm hair stand on end. As you walk ahead, your back to him, Jake wonders if it has the same effect on you.
Thinking about his best friend’s daughter’s tits. He wishes the shame alone was enough to knock the thought out of his head. He wishes you hadn’t moved home. He wishes you weren’t leading him into your dark, empty house right now.
The entire house is pitch black, but Jake tests the hallway lightswitch in passing anyway. He notes the dubious look you shoot him back over your shoulder. Then, he passes by you as you stop to take off that big coat. It’s not something he wants to hang by and watch.
It’s cold as his shoulder brushes yours, and not just because it’s November. You swallow thickly, staring after him until he disappears into the dark. Your feelings towards Jake are complicated.
Well, they’re not. Your crush on him isn’t the innocent middle school crush that you used to have on an older figure, like a teacher. No, this is far from doodling his name in your journal. This man, and his thick, ridged abs and golden chest hair, is working his way into your dreams.
After the break-up, you had sworn off men for a while — and that was the right decision for you. But, it left certain parts of you yearning. And Jake’s right next door. From your bedroom window, you’ve got the perfect view into his backyard. The same backyard where he’ll work out in the blazing heat, sweat glistening along his tanned skin, along the ridges and valleys of his muscles.
No, this crush is far from innocent. It crossed the border into indecent weeks ago, the first time that you touched yourself thinking about him. It wasn’t your fault; he was tempting you.
You had returned home from work to find Jake hanging out in the living room with your father, not unusual, and you had joined the two of them. Your dad had started with a playful comment about Jake. Jake had returned the favour with a witty remark about your dad. You were just joining in on the fun, poking playfully at Jake’s age.
All too suddenly, he had turned sharply to you and pinched the soft skin between your ribs and hip, leaning dangerously close with a smirk on his face that made your head spin. In fact, you still remember the way your mouth had hung open as Jake had breathed out a chuckle and shot you that playfully warning look.
“You think you’re funny, huh?” He’d challenged, that eager look in those wild green eyes, his cheeks dimpling just slightly, fingers pressing into your side.
Since then, you can’t help but think of him closer, and closer.
“Jake, wait!” You call, dropping the coat onto a hook and kicking off your slippers, starting to rush after him. Jake cranes his neck to look back at you over his shoulder. “You should probably show me what you’re doing. Y’know, in case it happens again.”
“Sure. Come here,” Jake jerks his head for you to join him, extending his hand for you in the dark of the utility room. You swat around until your fingers graze his, falling silent at the brash way he grabs hold of your hand and drags you closer. Your ass briefly brushes his thigh as he guides you in front of him. Jake steps back, clearing his throat. The little red dot on the fuse box illuminates his fingertips as he reaches past you. “This is the switch you want, don’t mess with anything else or your dad’ll kill you.”
The corners of your lips twitch. There are plenty of things your dad would be furious with, if he knew you had done them.
Jake’s fingers curl around the switch. His cologne fills your nose. His massive bicep is inches from your cheek, and everything feels like electric as his other hand comes to rest on the bare space between your shirt and your shorts. You’re trapped between him and the wall in front. If you would push your hips back just an inch or two…
“So, you flip the switch off to reset it,” Jake’s voice is all gravel from yelling at the young pilots he instructs, and shouting over the top of loud music in bars. It drifts past your ears and makes you want to shiver as his fingers curl around the plush of your hip. “And then you flip it back on for the power.”
Suddenly, the lights come back on in the hall outside of the utility room. Jake’s got you cornered against the fuse box really, and with the washer and dryer to your side, the only escape would be to rush out into the hall. You’re not quite ready to make that move. You can hear the amusement in his voice. He can feel the way you’re burning with awkward embarrassment in front of him.
“Oh.” You say quietly. Jake chuckles from behind you, his hand trailing about an inch higher, taking some of the fabric from your tank top with it, pinching playfully at your newly exposed waist.
“Happy to help, kid.” He’s already drawing back, his hand pulling away from your electrified skin, the sound of his shoe hitting the floor and alerting you to the fact that he’ll be leaving before you even know it.
“Could I ask you for one more favour?” You turn to face him, biting sheepishly on your bottom lip.
“Sure. What is it?” He’d retile your entire bathroom for you if you asked him to. That’s what makes him wish he was a better friend.
There’s an art to the way you bat your lashes at him, knowing better than to get too close or put your hands on him. Just that deep, pleading look in your eyes is more than enough. “Will you finish watching my scary movie with me? — Kinda… freaked me out a little bit when the lights went out, is all.”
“… Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can hang out for a little.” You’re a good kid, and it’s just a movie. He can’t leave you over here all by yourself, scared out of your mind, now, can he?
Jake wonders if this is what your father had in mind when he had asked his most trusted friend to just be there for his daughter while they were away.
That same, trusted best friend, sitting on the couch with his chin propped up against his palm, and that daughter’s head resting against his shoulder. You could have sat over on the other end of the couch, or even in your dad’s armchair, but that defeats the purpose of asking Jake to stay.
“Fill me in. What am I missing here?” Jake asks, mostly to fill the silence. His arm stretches along the back of your couch, his knees parted obnoxiously and his neck awkwardly straight to minimise risk of him laying his head against yours.
Your hand comes to rest against his middle, eyes focused calmly on the screen. “So there are two timelines. The present, and flashbacks to like… maybe ten years ago. Ten years ago, the family bought this mirror, and…”
Jake’s fingers inch their way into your hair, trailing softly over your scalp. Your fingers brush over his middle as he massages your scalp. He listens to you explain the plot of the movie like he isn’t thinking about the way your nipples are pressing through the white fabric of your tank top.
“Freaky mirror…” Jake muses over the concept of the plot, squinting his eyes at the screen, his fingers slowing to a halt in your hair as he turns his head to look at you. “You gonna be able to sleep okay tonight if we watch this?”
You meet him back with a sheepish grin and an innocent shrug of your shoulders. “Well, I already started, so I need to see that it ends okay, or I’ll be freaked out.”
“Alright. Just making sure you’re not gonna try crawling into my bed tonight after you have a nightmare.” Jake teases, pushing his knees further apart and sinking down into the comfort of the grey fabric couch he helped the movers bring in here last August.
He didn’t push you away when you sat right next to him and curled against his side. He reached out himself and stroked his fingers along your stomach.
Confidence surges through you like a wave, swelling big enough for you to giggle and press closer to him. “Come on, would that be such a bad thing?”
“What did you say?”
The swell has passed and the wave crashes just like all the others do, breaking over an otherwise calm sea. You swallow softly, growing exceptionally still.
“I was just kidding—“
Jake’s fingers leave your hair and curl instead around the nape of your neck. He turns his head, attempting to get a look at your face. “No, no. Say it again. What did you say?”
You shake your head, pressing it closer against his toned stomach. “I was just joking. You wouldn’t mind it that much if I had a bad dream and had to come sleep in your bed.”
He’s quiet for a moment and the movie draws tense. The main character is creeping around in the dark, the music is building, and Jake’s far too quiet for your liking.
“Don’t joke about that.” Jake says quietly.
“Okay. I’m sorry.” You answer him, hugging your cheek into the dark fabric of his t-shirt. That way, there’s no chance of him seeing the shame on your face. Going after your dad’s best friend— you should be ashamed of yourself.
Jake rubs a palm over the stubble on his jaw, trying to focus on the screen in front of him. This movie can’t possibly take much longer.
He knows he has upset you. You’re uncharacteristically quiet, and he can feel you trying to sit still. He shifts his hips a little, reaching out and resting his palm against your waist.
Your brows draw together as the main character bites into the apple she was eating and glass shards drop to the floor in front of her. Jake feels your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. Sweat beads on the nape of his neck.
His thumb swipes back and forth over the inch of bare skin on your hip.
Jake glances down at you. Laying against his middle like this. It feels all too natural. He isn’t even paying attention to the movie. Truthfully, the only thing on Jake’s mind is how soft your skin feels against the pad of his thumb.
Imagining how soft your body would feel in his palms, every inch of your skin in his capable hands.
You gasp as the camera pans to the main character’s bleeding mouth, and the shattered lightbulb in your hands, twisting your head and burying your face in Jake’s shirt.
Jake flinches, his attention drawn back to the screen as his fingers curl into your skin. His face twists in distaste, groaning at the gore on the screen.
“Shit, you weren’t kidding about this being freaky.” Jake mutters with a soft shake of his head, shifting uncomfortably as his fingers massage at the pillowy skin of your waist. He swallows thickly, eyes dropping down to the way you’re nestled just above his waistband. He tries a weak chuckle, mind racing for something to lighten the mood. “What am I meant to do if I’m up all night after this, huh?”
You laugh softly against his stomach, pressing closer to the warmth of his rigid torso. Jake stares at the screen as he feels your open palm brush over his abdomen, fingertips grazing the waistband of his sweats by mere millimeters. He strokes your skin, setting his knees further apart by an inch.
Even with the score of the movie in front of you, everything feels so quiet. Even with the floor lamp to your right and the table lamp to your left, it all feels so dark. It all feels so slow. Truthfully, you imagine this is as close as you’ll get to understanding what it feels like to tightrope across Niagara Falls.
One misstep, a strong gust, the loss of balance in any capacity and its all over. The best friendship that your father has ever had, thrown away because you made a pass at a man far too old for you to begin with.
Then, Jake’s fingers break their almost surgically precise pattern. The tips stretch just slightly under the fabric of your tank top, reaching for the silken skin of your stomach. It’s brief, before they retreat to the safety of circling the skin that you’ve chosen to expose. You drop your gaze, watching all five of his digits follow their intricate pattern, and stretch under the cotton white of your top once again.
Maybe Jake notices that you’re watching him, or maybe he finally notices it himself, but he stops all at once. Fingers pulling back to rest platonically against your hip, green eyes trained seriously on the television, his lips stretched into a flat line.
“It’s okay,” You whisper without turning your gaze away from the screen. Jake doesn’t look at you. He feels your fingers brush across the top of his, curling through the digits, linking them together. “It’s okay, Jake. You can. I won’t say anything.”
Your parents aren’t going to be home for another eleven days. What’s Jake supposed to do until then, ignore your existence? — Avoid you entirely?
He wants this, and you’re on to him, giving him permission.
“Honey,” It’s caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan, an exhale of restraint and desperation all at once. He wishes he could at least pretend he’s half interested in this movie. “Don’t talk like that.”
Your brows draw together, eyes going wide as a child in the movie creeps through the house, headed for the master bedroom. Bloody sheets on the bed. A smashed plate on the floor. Jake’s hand gripping your hip. The child inches forwards, the music swells, a chill rushes down your back. In frame, the little girl rounds the edge of the bed and someone leaps out, bloodied and frenzied. Jake hasn’t been paying enough attention to gather who.
Neither one of you will care in a few moments.
The surprise makes you jolt, leaping up from your spot against Jake’s stomach, sitting upright all of a sudden, grabbing onto his forearm for support.
“It’s alright, cutie,” Jake breathes out in soft amusement, rubbing a heavy circle on your back. That’s the first thing he called you. When he’d seen you struggling to lift the icebox in the garage. Let me get that for you, cutie. And now, he has the nerve to pretend like it’s just you that has led the two of you here. “Maybe we should turn it off now, huh?”
Your heartbeat is already thudding in your ears and there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep after any of this. Fuck it. You turn, brace your palm against his shoulder, and take the dive.
Jake has thought about what those pretty lips feel like. Every time they stretch upwards into those pretty smiles, each time you sink your teeth into the bottom one. He should be prepared, in theory. Is there any way to prepare for something like this?
“Sweetheart…” Jake mutters against your lips, eyes screwed shut, hands reaching out for your hips. Pained, he gives a slow shake of his head. “Come on, we can’t do this.”
“But do you want to?” Your lips graze his. He feels the way you arch your back, knocking your chest into his, angling yourself in a way that just begs him to grab hold of your waist and drag you into his lap. You close your mouth, pecking softly at his still lips once more. “If you didn’t know my dad… you would. Right?”
Yes. Of course he would. He would be insane not to. He’s driving himself insane trying not to.
“But I do, and… and he trusts me.” Jake turns his head just slightly, but his hands reach for you. His big hands find your hips and grab onto them tight, hard. He just holds you right there. There’s got to be some kind of way he can regain some of the power here.
“I trust you.” You tell him, kissing his jaw tentatively. Delicate fingertips skim along the throbbing vein on the left side of Jake’s throat, reaching for the nape of his neck. Soft, slow kisses lead a trail to his earlobe, passing plains of stubble and angled bone. “I know you won’t hurt me, and I know you want me. It’s okay, Jake, I want you too.
“Fuck.” Jake swears, dropping his head forwards to rest against the curve of your shoulder. His fingers dig into your hips harder and harder. By the time Jake drags you forwards, his grip is so tight that you would have no choice but to follow. You fall into his lap, lips parted and eyes wide as Jake’s deep pine coloured eyes study your face.
You wait for him to speak again, but he doesn’t. Not for a long time. His fingers stretch up from your hips, reaching under the fabric of your tank top, extending across your bare abdomen. He stretches the brushed cotton further, taking it up with a gentle touch.
“Your father would kill me.” Jake muses as his fingertips graze the underside of your breasts, his eyes solely on your face. You smile back at him, only partly because your father is an airline pilot who couldn’t bench half of what Jake does on a good day.
“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
Jake grits his teeth. It has started to rain outside now. That storm that channel four had promised is starting to roll in. The movie will be over soon. The rain will be the only sound on this entire street. This house is completely empty, beside the two of you. He exhales through his nose and pushes his hips up. He’s half-hard under you, and giving you another disapproving shake of his head.
“Little fuckin’ minx…” Jake curses you, his words fanning out across the span of your exposed neck, hot and cold all at once. “You get off on teasing me like this, or something?”
A smile works its way across those pretty lips. Jake could see more of that smile than he sees sunsets and he would still be pretty damn content. Your nails rake softly through the almost buzzed fade at the back of his head as you give a shake of your head.
“Well, it’s not teasing if we take care of it,” Your shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug as Jake’s fingers trail further upwards, taking your tank top with them and exposing your breasts to the cool autumn air. The rattle of the air conditioning unit that your dad tells you not to mess with reminds you of the real culprit as your nipples harden and perk with the exposure. You lean back, bracing each of your hands on Jake’s knees, arching your chest out, letting Jake see the newly exposed skin. “If you’ll let me.”
His eyes are pretty when he smiles. When he’s staring at your tits, they’re hooded and hungry, a shade of green that threatens to draw you in and hold you captive. What a happy captive you would be. His hands grab at both of them at once, squeezing roughly at the supple flesh.
All at once, his mouth is on yours too. He’s sucking at your bottom lip, growling into your mouth. He smells of smoked wood and he tastes of scotch. It paints half of a picture. A lonely man sitting in his home alone on a Saturday night, burning a candle given to him by a girl half his age and drinking liquor older than he is himself.
You’re straddling his hips now, your bare thighs squeezing into the fabric of his grey sweatpants, pulling yourself closer with each hungry kiss. Jake’s touch is experienced, expert; he pinches softly at your nipple, anticipates the way your mouth will draw open in a soft gasp, and licks into your mouth the second that it does. He sucks softly at the tip of your tongue, revelling in the feeling of your soft breasts in his hands.
“Arms up.”
You’re such a good girl. The way that you comply with a wordless grin and bite at your lip once the tank top hits the floor has Jake in even more trouble than he was before. He kisses softly at the space between your tits, pushing them together in his hands, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue into your skin.
Men like boobs. Big boobs, small boobs — your shared gossip sessions with friends in college always led to the same conclusion, men don’t care. They bite, suck, grab regardless of size. It shouldn’t be anything new. But then Jake reaches your left nipple. His right hand palms at the underside as his tongue swipes in a circular motion, just before his lips clasp around the sensitive bud.
You know he’s watching you through those esurient green eyes, but you find yourself playing right into his capable hands anyway. Any leverage you may have had in seeming like his charms don’t work on you are washed away with the dulcet tone of your first moan. It spills from your lips, your nails pressing into the nape of his neck as Jake sucks expertly at the sensitive skin.
He pulls away with another ravenous exhale, something between a sigh and a groan. His hands feel heavy on your body as they paw at your chest with a capability you’ve never encountered before. His cologne is expensive and mature, a smokey blend that has you intoxicated and enthralled. His mouth is wet and eager, but oh, so slow as it explores the areas of you he has dreamt about.
The rain outside is growing heavier, like it’s learning to mimic the deepness of each of your breaths. The movie must have finished by now. Neither one of you is going to check.
His stubble prickles, rough and masculine, abrasive compared to the adept caress of his tongue. His right hand grabs forcibly at the nape of your neck, drawing the sweetest little squeak from your already open lips. You knew he would be better than the guys you’ve been with before, but not like this. He hasn’t even touched you yet.
Jake’s lips seem to pinpoint each and every nerve ending in your chest, sucking and licking at your skin through feverish kisses. The tenderness seeping away each time a breathy moan falls from your mouth, fanning out against his clothed shoulder. He pulls away from the top of your breast with his teeth, already knowing, in his years of experience, that that’s going to bruise.
Jake lifts his head, letting his eyes drift shut as you lean forwards and press your mouth to his neck. He can feel your nerves in your trembling fingertips, in the way your chest shivers when it brushes his, in the way your lips suck at his pulse point. But you’re doing so well. Dragging your lips along the length of his neck, biting softly at the skin just above his collarbone, feeling him shiver at the sensation.
“Off.” You demand, grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt, feeling him grin against your jaw. He complies wordlessly, grabbing at the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head.
You’ve seen Jake shirtless plenty of times, wandering around his property or opening the front door without shame. You’ve always wondered what those muscles, that dusting of golden chest hair, would feel like up close. Forgetting that you’re being watched, your hands explore his toned torso. The line down the middle of his stomach, the sharp divide of his collarbones, the swell of his pecs.
“What’re you thinking?” Jake asks, brushing your hair back from your face tenderly, concern coating his features.
A bashful smile spreads across your cheeks as you watch your fingers ghost along the thick muscle of his shoulder. “That you’re really hot.”
Jake breathes out a chuckle, reaching up and grabbing at the back of your neck to cradle you against him as he pushes up from the couch and turns quickly, planting you on your back and covering your body with his.
“That smile is gonna get me in big trouble, sweetheart,” Jake wastes no time in pressing his mouth to your stomach, holding you by your waist as he sucks filthy kisses into your skin to mark his path downward. “You know that?”
“I know.” You answer back, just to tease him this time. Jake stops at your waistband as you giggle, looking up at you through hooded eyes with a devilish grin on his face. He drags his teeth across your hip, hooking his fingers into the sides of your shorts and tugging them down your legs.
“God, honey, you weren’t wearing panties this entire time?” Jake exhales, eye-level with the most intimate part of you and completely unashamed. Your mind fumbles for an answer, lips getting into position to finally respond when he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your soaked core. Then, he moans. His hands grab fistfuls of your soft waist and he goes in again, lapping hungrily at your excitement, groaning against your sensitive skin.
“O-Oh… Jake.” Your voice trembles, knees trying to press shut around Jake’s broad shoulders. He grabs firmly at your thigh, closing his lips loosely around your clit, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud and making you jolt against him.
“Yeah, honey?”
“That feels really fucking good.” You tell him, closing your eyes finally.
“Attagirl. Just hold on, girlie, I’m gonna get you there.” He promises without once diverting from his apparent mission. If he’s as devoted to the Navy as he is to making you cum at this exact moment in time, the military is lucky to have him. You’re soaked, excitement pooling between your legs. Jake already knows he’s going to spend tomorrow cleaning this couch, and he wishes he cared enough to make better decisions.
“Look at this,” Jake breathes out as his gaze falls back down to rest between your legs. He couldn’t care less about the fucking couch. You swallow hard, practically aching for his touch. You’ve waited so long already. His index finger dips between your folds, his brows raise as he gathers your excitement on the tip of it. “Making such a fuckin’ mess for your old man’s best friend. Dirty fucking girl.”
He can’t see the way his words make you grin, but he can feel the way you reach for his hair and tug softly at those blonde roots, begging for more. He’s more than happy to give it to you. Jake groans against you, working his tongue in soft circles around the throbbing bundle of nerves. His eyes are still on you. Your eyes are closed — if you look him in the eyes then you’re going to get all embarrassed, and you’ll be damned before you let someone ruin how good this feels. Especially not yourself.
Jake’s hand trails up your naked torso, pawing at your rising and falling tits as you pant into the chilled air, sweat beading on your skin.
He’s gentle between your legs. More gentle than he could be. Pressing his stubbled mouth firmly against your core and working his tongue against you, each languid movement making you keen into him. The tip of his nose bumps your clit periodically. It feels like your head is spinning.
Dragging his mouth back up to your sensitive, throbbing clit, his free hand slides between your legs, he dips the tip of his index finger into you, then slides it in up to the knuckle and curls. Just testing the waters. It’s enough to earn him a moan, enough to have you grab a fistful of his short blonde hair, ensuring that he doesn’t get ahead of himself and lose pace with his mouth.
He slips his ring finger into you alongside his middle whilst his tongue works confidently along your core and back up to your clit. He lets go of your thigh and rests his forearm across your stomach, keeping you nice and still for him. Maybe he should feel ashamed of himself for how much he’s enjoying this.
All of those times he enjoyed the sound of your laugh, and sat with the afterthought of how much he’d enjoy the sound of your moans. It’s hard to be ashamed when it turns out he was right.
He scissors his fingers inside of you, making you gasp louder this time, pulling against him. You tug at his roots, he moans against your clit. You both shiver, and not because of that now thundering storm. Jake’s tongue flattens as he drags it along your core. He pulls his fingers from you and puts them immediately to work, taking over the pace on your clit, burying his face between your legs, curling his tongue into you.
Jake growls against you, his cock growing now uncomfortably hard in the confines of his sweats and his fingers and mouth switch places once again. After all the time he has waited, he doesn’t deny himself the pleasure of looking up at you, writhing at the feeling of him between your legs. All that does is make his sweats feel even tighter again. His fingers fuck into you mercilessly, curling and twisting, making you keen into his touch and arch your back and gasp all at once.
You cum with his name on your tongue and your fingers in his hair. The comedown feels like weightlessness. Jake doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the first time a man has made you feel like that, the adoration in your eyes as he comes in to kiss your mouth tells him everything he needs to know.
His mouth tastes like you, his chin is wet with your slick and his cock is straining against the grey cotton of his sweats, pressing in to your stomach. Jake’s fingers brush your hair back softly from your forehead, a sudden calmness in the green of his eyes as he studies the peaceful euphoric smile on your face.
“We don’t have to go any further—“
“Stop trying to be a gentleman.” You huff, lifting your head and kissing him hard, hooking your legs around his waist. Drawing him closer, you’re both painfully aware that the only thing stopping him from touching you is his sweats. “I want you.”
Jake pauses for a moment. Rain slams against the windows, and the television goes dark as it passes into standby mode. His hands squeeze softly at your waist, eyes darting downward at your naked body under his. He would be a damn idiot to say no to everything he has been fantasising about.
“You keep condoms here?” He breathes out.
Your eyes light up before him, gleaming with mischief. You give a confident nod of your head as a cunning little smirk spreads across your lips.
“There are some in my parents’ bathroom,” You can tell right away that he doesn’t like that idea, but that’s okay, option two was by far your favourite anyway. “Or, you could just cum in me. I won’t tell.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jake drops his head forwards to rest against your naked chest, panting out a dry laugh. His fingers bruise into your middle as he starts to consider the choices that have led him here. Once he feels composed enough to look you in the eye again, he lifts his head and squints seriously. “You did not just say that.”
“I want you to. I’m on birth control anyway.” Long gone is the nervous girl standing on his porch and asking him to fix her lights. There’s a devious, lustful look in your eye and Jake’s pretty damn sure there’s magic in that look. All he knows is that it could make him do just about anything you asked of him. “Please?”
Jake swipes his thumb along the curve of your jaw, studying the depths of your irises for just a moment. He leans forwards and kisses your bottom lip, sucking at the plush skin, pulling away with his teeth. You swallow as he sits back, pushes his sweats down his legs and frees his swollen cock. From under him, you’ve got the perfect view.
Every ridge and valley in those impossible abs, each follicle of hair that lines his tanned chest, trailing down below his navel and sitting neatly around his pubic bone, trimmed just as neatly as his navy-standard hair cut. His cock is a good size, considerable even when he’s got one of his large hands wrapped around its base. Wide too, throbbing red at the tip, bending just slightly to the left.
Just looking has your mouth running dry.
Fisting his cock, Jake sits back on his heels and lets his gaze fall down to your glistening core once again. He looks down at your pretty face, then lowers himself between your legs, pressing his chest into yours, kissing you dizzyingly hard.
“You want it?” Jake asks one last time.
“I want it.” You answer him, smiling softly back at him, squeezing your thighs around his hips.
You’re looking up at him with such trust in your eyes that Jake can barely stand it. His heart thuds in his chest as he guides the tip of his cock between your folds, hesitating just briefly. There’s already no coming back from this. There’s no way to make up for the things he has already done. You’re so special, and he wants this so bad.
Your mouth sucks softly at his throat, quiet, pleased sounds spilling from your lips as he grinds the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit. Jake kisses your shoulder softly, then lowers his head to rest there as he drags his cock down to your warm entrance. You gasp softly as he presses into you, pushing forwards until he’s buried and stretching you open completely.
“Oh,” You whimper against his earlobe, pressing your nails into the swell of his shoulder blade. “You feel really fucking big.”
“So fuckin tight.” Jake grunts, his throat thick with desire as he stills inside of you, thumbs bruising into your hips. “Sweet fucking girl. Feel like you’re made just for me.”
This makes you smile into the curve of his jaw, humming in soft agreement as he starts to slowly rock his hips. Lightning flashes outside of the window, and it doesn’t matter one bit. The rest of the world is a million miles away. In here, it’s just the two of you.
“Oh fuck,” Jake shivers, eclipsing your throat with his hand, pulling you in for a heavy kiss, licking into your mouth as he drags his hips back until it’s just the tip. You gasp sharply against him as he snaps his hips forwards until he’s buried into you completely once. “Fuck. You like that?”
“Yeah. I want it like that.” You whimper into his skin, hugging your legs tight around his hips. You moan eagerly against his lips, the sound catching in your throat as he squeezes at the sides of your neck and drives his hips forwards sharply, drawing an excited squeak from your parted lips.
Jake grunts, rocking himself into you hard and fast. He’s waited so long for this, and so have you. The way you’re clawing at his back makes him want to give it all to you. Leaving feverish kisses along your collarbones, he fills you over and over. You curl both legs tighter around his waist, leaning your head back as far as you can against the couch cushion to give his lips better access to your throat.
The living room is filled with the sounds of your sex. Your desperate moans, panting and hard. Jake’s pleasured grunts, muffled softly by the curve of your shoulder. His skin slapping yours. It smells like him, smoky and mature. Sweat beads along his back and his forehead as he keeps up that merciless pace, fucking you so hard that you couldn’t tell him your own name anymore.
Jake pulls back just enough to grab the backs of your thighs and pin them to your chest, hooking your knees over his shoulders, filling you even deeper than before, making you cry out.
“Jake!” You beg, babbling incoherently into the curve of his shoulder as he goes right back to the pace he set before. Fucking you hard and fast, scrambling your brain to the point that the only thing on your mind is the ravenous way he’s staring down at you.
Your walls are squeezing around him perfectly and the sounds you’re making are just driving him insane. It’s been a long time since Jake felt as crazy about someone as he feels about you. He pants into the crook of your neck as his fingers tug at your hair, making you moan out even louder.
“I’m gonna cum — fuck, honey,” Jake grunts out like he’s been punched, his eyes screwing shut as he reaches between your bodies and rubs uniformed circles around your clit. “Are you close? — Can you cum one more time for me?”
“Yeah,” You breathe out, already trembling as you squeeze your thighs tighter around him. “Just—“ You don’t have the words, so you just reach out and grab his hand. Jake swallows hard as you wrap his open hand around the column of your throat and look up at him with that big, trusting look in your eyes again.
He grits his teeth as he squeezes at the sides of your throat, watching your sweet face contort in pleasure. Your hand dips between your legs and replaces where Jake’s had been, rubbing feverish patterns on your clit. Your stomach tightens in knots, your breathing grows heavy and Jake’s cock drives into you at just about the perfect angle each time. You open his mouth to warn him, but it’s already too late. You couldn’t find the words if you tried.
All you can do is grab onto those thick shoulders and cry out his name against the salty skin of his neck. Jake slows just slightly, offering you some reprieve through your sensitivity. Trying to be a gentleman once again. The brain fog starts to clear, you lift your head and press your lips to your earlobe.
“Cum in me,” You pant out, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself. Jake groans against your chest, nodding his head feverishly. “Just like that, Jake, please.”
He’s relentless, fucking your through the sensitivity of your post-orgasm haze hard enough that grabbing onto those broad shoulders is the only thing that keeps you down to earth with him. Jake groans desperately. He wraps an arm under your back and pulls you as tight against him as physics will allow. You gasp softly, taking your lip between your teeth as he fills you, his cock throbbing against your walls. He seeks out your lips and kisses you hard, somehow more desperate now.
“Fuck, honey…” Jake breathes out, pressing a lazy kiss to the curve of your jaw. He makes no effort to move at first. “You alright?”
“Better than alright.” You answer contentedly, a soft smile toying at your lips as lightning flashes outside once again. Jake chuckles tiredly, lifting his head and kissing your lips.
He sighs, moving slow as he slips out of you and looks down at his cum dripping from between your legs.
“Oh, shit!” You realize, sitting up quickly and trying to reach around Jake for something to clean it with. He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you tight against him. Truthfully, from the moment that you had laid your head on Jake’s abs, you hadn’t thought once about the consequences of fucking him right here in this spot.
“Forget it, I’ll — I’ll fix this,” He tells you calmly, already regretting that he’s going to have to live with what he has done on this couch. “Come on, cutie. Let’s go take a shower.”
It’s clear that this is foreign territory for you. Not the sex, but what comes after. He didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t run away with regret for what he did. He ran soap across your body and found your pyjamas for you.
You swallow softly, walking to sit on the edge of your bed. Jake runs a hand along his stubbled jaw as he lingers in the doorway to you room. You can’t help but notice that he got dressed again. Including his shoes. He looks you over, sitting there in fresh pyjamas, staring at him with that worried little look on your face.
He hasn’t ever seen your room here. It’s probably the one room in the house he has never been in. He’s been wondering what it’s like.
But that isn’t why he’s standing there. He sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I should go — I mean, Ace is over there by himself.” Jake says quietly. You nod at him. You should probably say something too, but truthfully, not all of your words seem to have come back into your mind yet. “Are you coming with me?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I don’t wanna leave you over here by yourself after that weird ass movie.” Jake answers you with a shrug of his shoulders. “I figured you could just spend the night. If you want.”
Your mouth twitches at the corners as you push yourself up from the edge of your bed, nodding eagerly at him. You’ve got eleven days until your parents get back in town, and Jake permitting, you’re planning on making the most of that.
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lemonlover1110 · 9 months
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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝
Toji Fushiguro
[Chapter 1] Passionfruit
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Praising, Referenced Cheating (MEANING TOJI ONCE CHEATED ON READER AND IT'S TALKED ABOUT), Creampie, Sad Sex(womp womp)
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Getting married to Toji was the worst decision that you’ve ever made. You love him more than anything, yet he’s been the worst husband that you could’ve asked for. Your wedding day was the happiest day of your life, yet since that day, you haven’t been happy. You try to be shocked but since the beginning of your relationship, Toji told you that he wouldn’t be a great husband. 
You had dumb hopes, of course, that you could turn him into the perfect husband– Not necessarily perfect but at least a good one. You should’ve backed out on your plans the first month of your relationship, when you caught him in bed with another woman. But you were so into Toji back then that you managed to move past it, luckily, the incident never occurred again, and of course, he made it up to you. 
But Toji was never a great boyfriend though. He did the bare minimum every time, and you praised him for it. You don’t recall him even telling you that he loves you until your wedding day. To this day you don’t know why you stuck with him when the universe sent you a clear sign the first month of your relationship. You were still young, and even if you broke up with him you would have accomplished your five year plan in time.
You met Toji when you were twenty two and he was thirty four. He had a nine-year-old son and your first thought was no, you didn’t want to be a stepmother at such a young age. You just hooked up with him a couple times, and eventually you caught feelings. It was nothing too passionate, but you liked him enough to start a relationship with him, and to stay when he betrayed you early on.
By twenty four, you got engaged. You surprisingly didn’t have to ask him, he did it himself with no issue. He heard about your five year plan, married by twenty five, and he knew a wedding or at least the type you wanted, took at least a year to plan. Within a year, you were married.
You were getting cold feet on your wedding day, coming to the realization that Toji had never told you that he loved you. While he wasn’t a man that expressed his emotions, he surely would’ve told you that he loved you at least once, right? Toji heard you were getting cold feet, and he was at your door thirty minutes before the ceremony started.
“Isn’t this bad luck?” You asked him, unsure of what he was doing at your door. You didn’t really couldn’t stomach having a conversation with him. Toji looked as handsome as ever, it was the first time you’d ever seen him so dressed up. He shrugged.
“Heard that you were having second thoughts.” Toji began, and you crossed your arms. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. He cleared his throat before asking, “Care to explain?”
“Do you even love me, Toji? We’ve been in a relationship for three years, and you haven’t even told me that you love me. I do love you, Toji, but I don’t want to get married to someone who doesn’t love me.” You told him, and his brows raised. He took slow breaths, and you were on the verge of tears. You stumbled over your words as you continued, “Just please be honest with me, Toji. I can move on and start over, even if it’s hard at first.”
He took a couple steps toward you before his hands cupped your face. His lips met yours in a short but sweet kiss. He smiled at you before telling you, “Have I really not told you how much I love you?”
His words made you continue with the marriage, bringing you a sense of comfort and safety in your relationship. You weren’t so hesitant about being married, and the first month of your marriage you were genuinely happy– Until you weren’t.
Being a stepmother wasn’t hard. Megumi was a sweet child, only twelve when you got married to his father, but old enough to make his own decisions and to know right from wrong. You didn’t have to teach him anything, in fact, Toji asked you to stay out of that aspect of Megumi’s life. Unless Megumi did something that was clearly wrong, he didn’t want you to discipline his son. However, you never had any issues with Megumi.
You only ever had issues with Toji. The honeymoon stage is supposed to last longer than a month, but within a month Toji was dismissive of you. He was cold towards you, he didn’t bother communicating any issues. It felt like Toji was just using you to come home to a clean house, a cooked meal, and for sex. You tried to fix it many times, but he never bothered to change.
You weren’t treated like his wife. He couldn’t care about your interests, blamed any of the issues of your relationship on you, and what you found the worst, constantly compared you to his late wife. You were worried about that before you got married, and you expressed your concerns to him; sometimes it felt like he did it on purpose.
You had this concern that you never felt in your relationship, even after the incident of your first month together. He was cheating on you– He had to be. He came home late, and didn’t pay any attention to you. But you were proven wrong after you followed him around and he was just working. Simply working. He didn’t even look at another woman… It relieved you, and once again filled you with this sense of comfort in your marriage.
You were fine until he nearly forgot your twenty-sixth birthday, he only remembered at night, and your heart broke. But he was so loving towards you after he remembered, for a week, he treated you like his wife but things quickly went back to normal.
Dismissive, cold, reserved. 
But you still dealt with it because you loved him. Even when you constantly argued and he blamed every issue of your marriage on you. You were growing tired of it, and each time that he brought up her name, you threatened to leave. He didn’t take you seriously though. And you weren’t serious until your twenty-seventh birthday, when he completely forgot to congratulate you again. But this time it completely slipped. He came home late that night, but you didn’t get to see him because you had cried yourself to sleep.
You were the wife that he wanted for some time– Quiet. You didn’t bother talking about his day, asking if he liked dinner, if you were going to do anything special for the weekend (you never did but you always asked), you didn’t ask Megumi anything either. You mentally checked out of the relationship. Until you realized that you can’t live like this forever, just emotionally isolated while you played housewife. And now you’re sitting on the couch of your apartment, waiting for your husband to come home.
Your heart is almost beating out of your chest, your hands shaky and getting worse with each second that passes. He’ll get home at any minute now, and it’ll all be over. He won’t argue your request, Toji isn’t one to argue much. You’re usually the one that starts the arguments to actually communicate with him, but you won’t be arguing with him tonight.
“Why are you still awake?” Toji’s voice spooks you, you were so lost in your own thoughts of what will come next that you completely missed the sound of the front door opening. Toji furrows his eyebrow as he looks down at you. You blink slowly before shrugging, the same response he would’ve given you. You stand up, pointing to the coffee table where the divorce papers lay.
“I want a divorce.” You’re brief. Before you can see his reaction, you take off your engagement and wedding ring, setting them down on the coffee table beside the divorce papers. You go back to your bedroom, leaving him in the living room to process the news. You doubt he cares too much. 
“Are you sure you want this? A divorce?” He ends up following after you which surprises you. You get in bed, throwing the blanket over you. You don’t pay much attention to him before you respond,
“Yes. It’s what we both want.” You answer. He shakes his head. 
“It’s what you want because I don’t want a divorce.” He responds, and you raise your brows. You shake your head disapprovingly.
“Right… You’re right. Because with me you have a live-in maid.” You point out, your voice calm as ever. Toji blinks slowly, tilting his head to the side before he opens his mouth.
“Don’t I pay the bills?” He argues, making you get out of the bed. You can’t stay calm at this moment, even if you try.
“And you hold it over my head every damn day. I don’t even get an allowance to buy myself some clothes because all the money you have left over, you throw away gambling!” You raise your voice at him, so much pent-up anger slowly unleashing. “And I wouldn’t care too much about that if you gave me the place as your wife– You treat me as if I were your fucking servant.”
“What the hell? Since when do you care about that?” Toji asks, and you freeze in your spot. You end up laughing in disbelief because you can’t believe your own husband is saying that. He’s supposed to know you better than anyone. Yet he doesn’t seem to know you at all.
“Since always! I want to be loved, Toji, how do you not know that?” You sound defeated, and he’s stepping closer to you. You’re nearly crying, realizing how you’ve wasted your time. The man that stands in front of you doesn’t love you, he’s only with you because– You don’t even know why he’s with you. “What kind of wife doesn’t want to be loved?”
He cups your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. You’re getting lost in his eyes, and you have to force yourself to look away because it never ends well when you look into his eyes. You’re so fucking weak for him. You never thought you could love someone as much as you love Toji; at first you definitely didn’t think it’d be such a strong emotion since you didn’t care much for him at first but when you fell, you fell hard. You truly believe that the man that stands in front of you is the love of your life, yet you’re leaving him because you doubt that you’ll be able to be happy by his side.
It’s the worst kind of love. The one that makes you unhappy because you yearn for it to be reciprocated.
“Then let me love you, baby.” Toji says, his lips moving down to meet yours. You’re taken back, and even though you want to pull away you also want to stay like this forever. Instead of pushing him away, your hands meet behind his neck and pull him closer to you.
His tongue swipes on your lips before you part them to let his tongue meet yours. His hands move down your body, his fingertips like fire, arousing every inch of your body as they move down your skin. You should pull away since a strong sentiment takes over as you realize that this is the only way Toji knows how to love you, and you hate it. But you’ve melted into the kiss and you can’t pull away now.
Toji’s lifting up your nightgown, and the back of your mind is telling you to stop. You’re not listening though. You only ever pull away– You don’t pull away, Toji does. He kisses down your neck before focusing on that sweet spot on your neck that makes your knees weak. 
His finger hooks under your panties, and he begins to play with the waistband before he pushes them down to the floor. When he stops kissing your neck, his fingers go to the hem of your nightgown and he lifts it up. When he takes off your nightgown, he picks you up to put you down on the bed. His hands cup your face and he gently kisses your lips, and while he looks down at you, you’re thinking that maybe– No, no, nonononono you can’t be so weak. What are you even doing under him?
Just as you’re about to get up, his lips go on yours again. He caresses your cheek, “I really love you. So much.”
His lips kiss you again and then they move down. He kisses every inch of your body, “You’re so beautiful.”
“So fucking perfect.”
“You’re my perfect wife.” He praises you with each kiss to your body, and you can’t deny how you’re like putty under his touch. Toji seems to realize the grasp he has on you, that’s why he’s kissing every inch of your body so you won’t leave him. Toji isn’t always so loving with you as he is right at this moment. He presses one final kiss on your lower abdomen before he goes to your face. He kisses your lips again, “I love you so much.”
Your hands go to Toji’s tie, and you loosen it up. Toji takes it completely off and your fingers begin to unbutton his shirt. Toji takes off his shirt completely, tossing it aside. Your hands go up his torso, and you’re almost in disbelief that Toji manages to keep his build even after getting an office job. He kisses your lips one more time before kissing down your body once again, each kiss making your body crave for more. This time he gets lower than your lower abdomen.
Toji kisses your folds before his tongue runs through them. His tongue begins to flick your clit and your bottom lip is quivering before a soft moan finally leaves your lips. Toji’s tongue is slow but slowly picks up speed.
There’s nothing Toji loves more than the taste of you on his tongue, yet he rarely does it. It’s a treat for both you and him. He’s doing it to get you to stop, hoping that his tongue giving you pleasure is enough to stop the insanity that you want to ensue. 
Your voice is soft as you let your moans into the air. It doesn’t take long for pleasure to consume your mind since Toji knows how to use his tongue. He knows your body too well, and you know you’ll grow to hate it when you’re away from him, but right at this moment you love it more than anything.
His tongue moves down to your entrances, and he teases it. A low moan leaves your lips when his tongue enters your cunt, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your back is arching while your bite down on your lip. He’s making you feel so fucking good, but you have to be quiet. Megumi’s room might be on the other side of the apartment but you don’t wanna risk him listening to any of this.
Toji’s tongue moves in and out your cunt a couple of times before it goes back to your clit. You’ve always loved how Toji is always so determined to get you to come, even when you weren’t dating and you were just his hookup. This is one of those times that he won’t stop until you’ve climaxed.
He gets his index and middle finger wet enough before he pushes them inside you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. He curves his fingers so they brush right against that sweet spot that’s enough to drive you wild. You fucking hate it so much– Not in the moment, in the moment you’re loving it; you absolutely hate it because you know it’ll make it hard to leave. But sex is not the only factor in a marriage. 
“Toji–” You moan. Your orgasm begins to approach, and it feels harder to hold back the noises that threaten to leave your lips. Your hands grip onto the bed sheets as your climax nears. Toji does such a great job, and if he wasn’t so focused on your cunt, he’d be praising you because you feel so nice around his finger and taste so good on his tongue. “Oh, fuck– I’m gonna…”
You stumble over your words until you finally reach your high, and God, the sound you make is like music to Toji’s ears. And while usually clarity hits you when you hit your orgasm, it doesn’t this time. He takes his fingers out of your cunt yet he continues flicking your clit until he’s had enough. When he’s finished, he kisses your clit and detaches himself from your cunt.
Toji stands up and unbuttons his pants. He pushes them down with his briefs. His arm goes under your back and he brings your back up, kissing your lips ever so lovingly, which is rare from Toji. Your legs wrap behind his back. One hand holds your back, forcing you to sit up, while the other strokes his cock a couple of times before he runs the tip through your folds.
“I love you so much, I really do.” Toji kisses the tip of your nose as his cock stretches you out. He’s making eye contact with you as his cock bottoms out, and you feel the tears that well your eyes. You wish it was of pleasure– While it does feel great, your tears are filled with sadness. Maybe he does love you.
A tear falls from your eye, streaming down your cheek and Toji doesn’t waste a second before he wipes it away. He kisses your lips and he begins to move, letting go of your back so you’re able to lay back down. “Will you stay with me, please? I need you.”
No, no he doesn’t. He doesn’t need you. He just doesn’t want to be alone. A need is something you need to live, and he clearly doesn’t need you. You bite down on your lip, looking away from Toji because just looking at him makes you want to burst into tears. 
“Please look at me.” Toji says, his hand going to your chin and moving your head so your eyes fall on him. He’s so… Perfect. Toji might have many imperfections, but in your eyes he’s perfect. That’s why you’ve stayed for so long. You will never find someone as perfect as he is. You try to focus on what’s happening to you physically, his cock filling you up and hitting every right spot, but it’s hard when so many emotions run through you at the same time. “Do you love me too?”
“I love you, Toji.” The words slip past your lips. You watch as he smiles, and you avert your gaze elsewhere. You don’t like giving him the satisfaction of knowing that, even when he deeply knows it. 
“I love you more than you know, baby.” Toji tells you, his hand going down your body to play with your clit. You try to ignore it, letting the feeling of pleasure take over, but your other emotions are too overwhelming. So many emotions flow through you.
Tears keep streaming down your eyes as Toji reminds you that he loves you so much. His hands land on your hips. His hands feel so gentle on your body. “Please stay with me.”
Toji is usually much rougher during sex, but this time he's gentler with you. It still feels so fucking good. You bite down your lip, feeling as your second orgasm of the night approaches. Your walls begin to squeeze around him, and Toji begins to curse under his breath. He fucking loves this, fuck fuck fuck fuck, he could stay buried inside of you forever.
“Will you stay with me, baby? Do I need to trap you?” He says, and what he’s saying is so wrong but it just sounds so fucking hot. It arouses you even more. “Do I need to knock you up?”
“Fuck–” You’re so close to finishing and his words are certainly helping. His cock just hits every right spot and he plays with your clit perfectly. You have to put your hand over your mouth when you reach your climax, not being able to contain the sounds but at least your hand muffles them. 
“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. I need you by my side, baby.” Toji continues, his thrusts slowly becoming sloppy. His nails unwillingly dig into your flesh. “Gonna make you a mommy, fuck–”
Toji throws his head back, shutting his eyes. He groans when he finally finishes, filling you up with his cum. He stays buried inside of you until he makes sure every drop of his cum is inside of you. He finally pulls out after a minute.
Toji lays down beside you, an exasperated breath leaving his lips. He tries to bring you closer to him, for you to lay your head on his chest how you usually do. He doesn’t usually like it, normally he pushes you off saying he has work early the next morning before he turns on his side. But not this time, he’s the one that tries to bring you closer, and Toji feels a sense of relief when you do.
You hear his heartbeat as it settles, and it brings you so much peace. His hand lovingly strokes your arm, an action that Toji only ever does when he’s making up for something. He places a kiss on your forehead before he mutters, “I love you.”
No kiss or caress can change your mind though. You’ve made your decision. He’s so loving now but within a week he’ll go back to being the same cold Toji. Toji doesn’t know though, and he thinks you’re all good when your hand fondles his chest. His lips then peck yours.
“Are we good now?” Toji asks. He doesn’t want you to leave, and while he might not show it, he does love you. Toji would not sit on his ass for nearly twelve hours a day, five days weekly, for anyone else but you. Plumbing was paying more than enough for him and Megumi, but it wasn’t going to be enough for you.
Toji changed jobs for you, wanting to give you a lavish lifestyle. He bought you a somewhat expensive ring, gave you a proper wedding, and now you’re living in an apartment that he wouldn’t have been able to afford in his previous job. Sure, he does have somewhat of an addiction and he doesn’t give you money to buy whatever you want, but you’re a housewife, you don’t get to buy whatever you want. At least that’s what he believes. Toji has done so much for you, and it pains to see that his efforts go underappreciated.
“We are.” You answer his question. You peck his lips again. He’s smiling at you but you can’t bring yourself to smile at him. “But we’re still getting a divorce.”
“What?” His eyes widen when those words leave your lips. Your head remains on his chest, your hand still running on his chest. You’re ever so calm listening to his heartbeat.
“Toji, if this is the only way that you can show me you love me then I don’t want that.” You tell him. You’re ever so calm, you have come to accept that your marriage is ending. You did think you’d be more of a mess while telling him this, but the tears from before are more than enough. “You’re better off with someone else.”
“But I want to be with you. You’re the woman I love.” He says, and it causes you to laugh. 
“You just like having sex with me.” You argue, even though you know that he does love you. But you want to leave. You have to because by his side you won’t be happy.
“I told you I wanted to have a baby with you, that’s no small deal.” He brings up.
“Just a spur of the moment thing. If I thought you were serious, I would’ve pushed you off.” You tell him, getting up from the bed and walking to the bathroom to clean yourself off. Toji watches you from the bed, watching as his cum drips out of you. He’d find the scene hot and pull you back into the bed if it weren’t for the fact that–
His hand go over his face, a sigh leaving his lips, “She fucking wants a divorce.”
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kamiversee · 2 months
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 4 || The Power of Lust
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a tinge of smut, & sexual tension.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.2k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——IT WAS ALMOST AS THOUGH twenty-four hours had gone by in the simple blink of your eye. The day of your date with Geto arrived much sooner than you anticipated.
You had expected the hours to be long and for every second to be excruciating. These expectations of yours quickly went down the drain when you found yourself at the front door to Gojo and Geto's apartment the next day.
Fiddling with your fingers, tugging at the bottom of your violet-shaded dress, and tapping your foot on the floor below due to an excessive build-up of nerves. Your heart is pounding. Why? Because the dress you're wearing is far too short and tight, it reveals an unnecessary amount of cleavage, and having your back exposed doesn't help much either.
Of course, it was Gojo who'd bought the dress for you. He told you that Geto would like it on you so, here you are.
You insisted with Geto that you'd meet him at his place at 7 o'clock but here you are ten minutes before seven trying to pull yourself together. After all, the date itself isn't exactly important. It's seducing Geto and convincing him to have sex with you as soon as possible that is.
A hand has been raised to the door of the apartment time and time again but never did you knock. You refused to. Given how worried you are, you stand there rehearsing how you expect this night to go mentally.
It should be simple; greet Geto, go out to a nearby restaurant, get to know him enough while flirting with him, and ultimately... fuck him by the end of the night.
Easy.
...
Right?
No. Not even close. There's absolutely no way you can do this. You got lucky with Gojo; he already wanted to sleep with you. Geto is a whole different story, hell, he's literally a stranger to you. Nine times out of ten, your words will fall off your tongue the second you lay eyes on him.
But then again, just maybe it won't go so bad. The trick to flirting is simply being quick and witty with your responses. Just lure him in. It won't be hard.
With a deep breath and a small friendly smile, you finally tap your knuckles against the door.
It takes a few minutes but after your knock, instead of Geto opening the door, it's Gojo who flings his front door open.
That smile of yours drops instantly as you meet those annoying blue eyes of his.
"Satoru, what the hell?" You whine.
Naturally, you're bothered by the way you had finally managed to get somewhere only for Gojo to open it.
His bright white locks of hair are noticeably wet, his eyelids low, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and his black sweats just barely hanging off that oddly attractive waist of his. That stupid smirk of his that he usually gives you is missing but his face is reddened and he looks slightly out of breath.
With a head tilt and leaning his body against the door frame, Gojo speaks to you in a startlingly low tone. "Thought' I told you to call me when you got here...?" He huffs.
You roll your eyes, "Why would I call you when I'm not here for you? And are you okay? Why's your hair wet?"
For a minute, Gojo is unresponsive. Not because he wanted to be rude or anything but because the man was far too distracted taking in your appearance. Your hair was done nicely, he swears your face is glowing in perfection, and the way you look in that tight dark purple fabric only makes Gojo furrow his brows as he focuses on it.
All his attention goes to the way the dress clings to you, the way it shapes you, and even that faint but pleasant scent of perfume that radiates off your skin.
With no response from him yet, you loom forward a little, "Satoru? Hello?" You call out. His gaze is slow but it eventually settles on your eyes again after you raise a hand to snap your fingers at him. "Are you okay??" You repeat.
Gojo nods lazily, a clear lie but you don't exactly get much time to scold him about it because the male steps forward and shuts his apartment door behind him. On instinct, you step back. His lack of words to you is odd, especially since he's normally so talkative. And this look in his eyes...
"The dress looks good on you." He compliments while taking yet another step toward you.
You swallow hard, "Thanks but can you answer at least one of my questions, I'm already nervous enough as it is and I don't need you adding-"
Gojo steps forward again, causing your mouth to close as you step back into a wall. The hallway isn't exactly small but it sure felt like it with the way Gojo had you pressed against the wall.
Again, you swallow down your nerves and narrow your eyes up at the man. He heaves out a sigh and bends down to your level, meeting your eyes at a closer range and inching toward you. The closer he gets, the stronger this scent of freshness becomes.
As his face nears yours, you notice how ridiculously clear his skin is, how he smells like soap, and it doesn't take many other signs to realize that he'd recently got out of the shower.
"Satoru...?" You whisper, "Why are you getting so close?"
Your words come out slowly, anxiety building up throughout your veins. Gojo's head tips to the side a little and he suddenly places a hand at your waist. If you weren't already nervous you surely are now.
"Y'know," He begins, voice still low, "There's no time frame on the list I gave you."
Confused by his actions and words, your face scrunches up a little. "Yeah, I already knew that. Why are you reminding me?" You ask as you carefully slip a hand over his own and try to remove his hold on you.
Gojo licks his lips and gives you a tired little smirk, "Cause', you don't have to hook up with Suguru today."
You blink. "I know but I have to at least go on a date with him. This is all a part of my plan, y'know?" You say gently, attempting to lighten the oddly tense mood.
His sights fall to your lips, "Oh, you have an actual plan?"
"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" You huff out before moving your hands to his chest. You want to push him away a little but when you try, he doesn't budge at all.
Gojo instead only gets closer, his breath hitting your lips. The man then places his hands over your wrists and pulls them upwards to wrap around his neck.
Your brows immediately furrow again, "Satoru-"
"Can you kiss me?" He cuts off.
Your hands are already halfway around his neck but even as you comfortably wrap them, you want to tell him no. You really want to but with the way he's looking at you, how close he is, and how he refuses to look away from your lips... you couldn't get the word no out in time.
Gojo closes the distance between your face and his but he doesn't kiss you. His lips only brush over yours, "Don't make me beg for it." He hums.
You gulp, "Why... Why do you want to kiss so suddenly?"
Those pretty blue eyes of his finally glide up to your own and you can see the neediness in his gaze. "Just one?" He asks, completely disregarding your question.
"I..." You trail off. For a second, you'd forgotten what you came over for.
And it is in that second that Gojo's voice drops to a whisper, "Please?"
Who are you to decline Gojo Satoru of one kiss when he asks so nicely? Even though he's blackmailing you to do ridiculous things; his touches and his gentleness with you are what keep tugging at the strings of your heart.
Even now, the man peers down at you as if you are the very air he needs to breathe. It's like there's nothing else important to him-- not his best friend awaiting your arrival, not the list of people he's asked you to sleep with, just you and him.
Dropping your sights down to his lips and letting out a sigh, "Only one." You finally murmur in response.
It won't hurt, right? One little kiss?
You push up on your toes a little and tilt your head opposite of him as you press your lips into his. Surprise comes to you when Gojo hums against you as soon as he feels you. Hands slide to your waist and instead of a little peck on the lips, the two of you share one prolonged slow kiss.
Your lips part over his but his tongue is quick to slip into your mouth. Somewhere in your mind, you told yourself you should stop but when you have Gojo's hands all over you and when he begins kissing you harder, logical thoughts are quickly lost.
Plus, you had time before meeting Geto so you weren't worried about getting caught... for the most part.
The feeling of Gojo's hand against your exposed back makes you arch into him a bit. The two of you wet up each other's lips and his free hand goes to your hip, "C'mere," He whispers in between your lips before he tugs you closer.
Hums leave your throat as the slight groan in his voice causes you to lose all sense of thought. That's when you get into it a bit more-- sliding a hand up into his hair, pushing your chest flush against his, and slipping your tongue over his.
It's sensual and timeless. Everything about Gojo Satoru constantly distracts or consumes you. His hand is gentle against your back but the hold he has on your hip is possessive.
As though this small kiss was a reminder for you, Gojo wants it to be clear that even if you go off and sleep with every man on that list in one day: he's still here waiting for you. Blackmail or not, Gojo longs for this; your touch, your kiss, the sound of your voice, you. And it is this last kiss that he uses to tell you that.
Even though... you don't put all of that together in that moment. To you, he's just kissing you because he doesn't know how to control himself.
It's not long after the kiss grows more heated that the sound of his apartment door opening startles the two of you. Both of you tare your lips apart with a loud smack and you go as far as pushing him away a bit so that the two of you look inconspicuous.
"There you are," Geto's voice is heard from behind Gojo, "I was looking everywhere for you Satoru."
Almost like a switch was flipped, Gojo's voice is back to normal. "Yeah?" He says with a little chuckle.
Your body is blocked by Gojo so Geto hasn't exactly set eyes on you just yet. Before he moves, Gojo raises a hand to his mouth and swipes his lower lip with his thumb. His eyes are directly on yours and chills run down your spine as you watch him lick off, what you assume to be the taste of your lips, from his thumb.
With a shake of your head, you return your focus to your reasoning for being here. After which, you pop your head around Gojo's body and make eye contact with Geto.
"Oh, I didn't even see you there," Geto chuckles as he flashes you a smile.
Good lord, your predictions were right-- your mind is already scrambling for a response. Why? Because you're too distracted wondering if it's even legal to look that good. Then again, he's no different from Gojo; both men are absurdly attractive.
A long black trench coat hangs off Geto's shoulders, the grey-colored fabric of a turtle neck noticeable to you, and black dress pants. The entire outfit is fitting for the date you're going on and your attire compliments him so... Why the hell do you feel so self-conscious?
Gojo clears his throat, and steals one more full glance at you before turning his head to his best friend and smiling, "You didn't hear the knock on the door?" He asks.
"No, I didn't," Geto replies, looking slightly confused. "But it doesn't matter," He hums, shifting his gaze to you, "I'm glad you're here."
You force a smile, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of Gojo's lips over yours. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I knocked too softly."
Geto waves it off, his smile widening. "It's fine," He says as he glances at his watch, "You were early anyways."
Slowly, you step to the side so that Gojo is no longer blocking the rest of your body and that smile on Geto's face flickers a bit. His breath gets stuck right in the middle of his throat but he plays it off with a cough, turning his head to the side and looking away from you.
Gojo, who feels forgotten already, tries to enter relevancy by tossing an arm over your shoulder. You flinch a bit but he's casual with his next words. "She looks good, right Suguru?" He asks.
Geto inhales deeply and just barely looks at you one more time, "Too damn good," He mutters to himself before playing it off with a simple nod.
A slight squeeze is given to your arm before Gojo looks at you, "See? I told you he'd like it."
You shoot him a quick glare before pushing his arm off you, "Whatever."
Geto chuckles at the interaction between you and his best friend. From his perspective, you seem to always be annoyed by Gojo but that's nothing new to Geto. He knows firsthand how annoying Gojo can be sometimes so he understands your displayed frustration and thinks nothing of it.
"A-Anyways," You start, bringing yourself to Geto's side and smoothly slipping your arms around one of his. You then incline your head up to him, "We should get going now."
Geto glances down at you, uses every ounce of restraint he has to not look at your cleavage, and then nods. "Yeah." Looking back up at his friend, he smiles, "Bye Satoru."
You don't notice it but Gojo gives Geto a look before smiling. "Have fuun." Gojo teases, turning to head inside.
With that, Geto carefully pulls you along and the two of you head down the hallway toward the elevator. You turn back to look at Gojo one more time for reasons you yourself are unsure of, noticing that his eyes are quick to meet yours.
Gojo winks at you and you scowl, your reaction only earning a chuckle from him before he dips into his apartment.
Out of your sight, Gojo lets out a shaky sigh and looks down at himself. He's relieved that you didn't even realize the raging bulge in his sweats.
The male's back rests against the door and he tips his head back. Fuck, the way that dress looked on you was way better than he imagined it would.
You didn't know it but when you knocked on the door, Gojo had been in the middle of fisting his cock in thought of you. He'd been in the shower, water running down his toned body while stroking his length. All while replaying past events of you beneath him.
When he heard the door, he had to stop what he was doing because he didn't hear Geto answer it and didn't want you standing out in the hallway all alone for too long.
Then, when he saw you in that dress... he had half a mind to pull you into the apartment and fuck you against the nearest surface without a care in the world of your date with his best friend. The way you won't leave his mind is dizzying.
Even at this very second, his hand found its way wrapped around his cock again. Damnit, Gojo curses himself for the effect you unknowingly have on him.
Just what did he get himself into...?
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
In the elevator down, you remain close to Geto's body. He smells really good and it's only the two of you inside so you feel less awkward holding his arm. His apartment is decently high up in the building they live in, located on the ninth floor, so it takes a few minutes to get down.
And it doesn't help that the elevator is really slow, creaking and straining with each floor it passes. Around the sixth floor, you steal a glance at Geto's side profile. You just wanted a quick look at him, y'know to take in more of his appearance. Yet, you quickly forget the words you wanted to say.
Thus resulting in you admiring his looks from the side.
Your staring doesn't go unnoticed, "You alright?" Geto suddenly says, causing you to jump. Quickly, you take your eyes off him but he only smiles and turns his head to you, "I don't mind you staring but, you looked like you wanted to say something."
How did he see you staring without looking at you? You have no idea. "No, it's nothing." You say casually.
"You sure? Was there something on my face or...?" Geto questions further.
You shake your head, "Nope. I was just uhm..."
He tilts his head, focused completely on you and how you no longer want to glance at him. "Just what? Admiring me?" Geto teases.
You scoff playfully, "Yeah."
An eyebrow is raised, "Yeah?" He repeats.
"Mhm..." You nod a little, still refusing to look at him again. You can't handle the eye contact.
Geto smirks, "Why'd you stop?"
You shrug, "I was done with my admiration."
"So soon?" He teases.
The way his eyes won't leave your face is frustrating. Your brain is already all over the place, wondering if you smell alright, look alright, and even sound alright. You haven't been on a date in so long so of course you're nervous.
You try focusing on the slow change of floors as the elevator descends but it's no use. Instead, you sigh and finally glance at Geto again, "Yup." You hum.
The moment you meet his eyes he grins, "What if I wanted you to continue?"
Flirt. Now's your chance. The whole point of this is to seduce him so do that. You tell yourself before smiling a little, "Do you?"
"Yes, actually." The man replies honestly as he drinks in the sight of your smile, "I like your eyes on me."
"Is that the only part of me you'd like on you, Suguru?" You suddenly blurt out with a boldness you didn't even expect yourself to have.
Geto pauses, having not expected you to utter such a thing so abruptly. After a second, he chuckles and sets his sights elsewhere, "Cute but, we can save that for later."
Damnit. The man is almost like a brick wall when it comes to having a sexual conversation. You wonder if it's obvious that you want to sleep with him. Are you being too transparent with your goals?
Wait... is this how guys feel when they take girls out on dates just to get in their pants? Damn, who would've thought it'd be so frustrating. Only difference is, your exposure is on the line here. Who knows what Gojo will do if you somehow fail to seduce any of the men on the list.
"Actually," Geto suddenly says, breaking you from your thoughts. "I changed my mind," He voices, looking to you.
Your heart sinks a little. Changed his mind about what? Is he about to cancel this date already? Did you go too far...? Shit, did you make him uncomfortable-
"Your eyes aren't the only thing of yours I want on me," He hums, now catching you by surprise. His arm then moves from out of your hold and is placed on your lower back, startling you for the second time in a row.
A sudden tug of your body to his has your heart beating like crazy. Geto peers down at you and tilts his head again, "I want your body on me too but we made reservations, gorgeous." He says, voice deep. His body then tips down closer to you, "You wouldn't wanna be late to that now would you?"
Your head shakes slowly, almost as though you'd been put in a trance by both his smooth words and intense look.
"That's what I thought," Geto moves a hand to your chin and pushes your head up further so he can get a clear look at your face. "So, you think you can be patient for me?"
You nod and notice how he looks down to your lips.
Placing a thumb to your bottom lip, he weighs it down slightly, "Words, use them. I haven't done anything to take your breath away yet."
A subtle wave of heat rushes to your face, "R-Right. I can be patient."
"You sure?" Geto teases.
The look in your eyes changes a little and you push your lips further against his thumb as if to taunt him. "Mhm." You hum in an innocent manner.
You weren't aware of it and nor did you mean to, but you definitely just gave him bedroom eyes. The sight has Geto clearing his throat and moving his hand from your face before looking away from you.
A ding is heard as the elevator finally reaches the lobby floor. Geto lightly pushes on your lower back and you get the hint by walking out slightly ahead of him.
As you step out of the elevator, Geto's eyes finally slip up and drop down to your ass. He tells himself it was an accident and that he didn't even mean to look but he most definitely does not try to look away once his eyes are there.
Even though he doesn't look away, he regrets his sight falling so low in the first place. The dress you're wearing is nothing more than a distraction. The man was already struggling to keep his mind at bay from when he first saw you. Then when you had looped your arms around his, he felt the side of your breast press against him and it caused his mind to stray.
The question you asked a few minutes ago was no help either. How ridiculous, asking him if he wants more of you on him. Of course he does, have you seen yourself? The way your eyes get all seductive when you look up at him, those little scoffs and giggles that leave you from time to time, and practically every time you touch him or he feels you, Geto finds himself affected by you.
So as he watches you walk a few steps ahead of him, eyes glued to your ass, he keeps replaying that question of yours over. He could've answered it so many other ways, all of which would probably have taken you by surprise.
He could only imagine the look on your face if he told you his true thoughts. How his mind forced imaginations of you over him, your thighs caging his head, cunt over his mouth while his tongue fucks up into you-
God, he should not be thinking like this. Is it because he's hungry? Perhaps. Geto tries to deter these thoughts by thinking of actual food, something that won't make him horny but will instead work up his appetite. And it almost worked too, that was... until you dropped your phone and bent over in front of him.
Poor guy didn't even realize how short that dress of yours actually was until you went down to grab your phone. It was purposeful too, bending over instead of crouching down, exposing more of your thighs and even giving the man a flash of the lace beneath your dress.
As you swipe your phone up, you take the quickest peak behind you to see Geto's eyes widened ever so slightly and his focus exactly where you wanted it. You intentionally take a second to get your phone in your hands to prolong teasing the man.
Geto, who definitely knows that all your actions are deliberate, shoots his eyes upward so that he's no longer looking at you. He takes a sigh, thinking that he's managed to control himself. Yet, his feet and hands never stopped moving. He stepped right into you, almost toppling your body over.
His hands moved instinctively, grabbing ahold of your hips so that neither of you fell over. Doing so, his crotch comes into direct contact with you and you're quick to stand up.
As you stand, you purposefully arch your back a little, prolonging the feeling of your ass pressing back into Geto's crotch. After trying so hard to control himself, your actions made all his efforts go down the drain.
Hands slide up from your hips to your waist and he makes sure that you can feel him against you as he moves to your ear.
"Careful now," He murmurs to you with a deep tone, "Bending over like that..." He moves his hand a little to tug your dress down properly so that it's not hiking up your legs, "Are you trying to show everybody what's supposed to be mine tonight?" Geto utters to you in full seriousness, tutting afterward.
You glance around the lobby, seeing only a few people scattered around, none of which seem to be paying the two of you any mind. "No one saw me but you." You respond to the man.
He scoffs, "Let's keep it that way. Don't bend over in front of me like that unless..." He holds his tongue, sighing instead.
Control, he's lacking it majorly right now. He was fine when he first met you, fine when you and he texted about the date, and even fine when you spoke on the phone a little.
Your head turns to the side and you meet his gaze, ignoring the pounding of your heart, "Unless what?" You say teasingly.
Geto stares at you with low lids, you're driving him crazy and the date hasn't even begun yet. Leaning in a bit closer to you, his lips nearing your own but never connecting, "Unless you wanna get fucked in front of everyone." He tells you.
Part of you wanted to tell yourself that this was just flirting but the way he gazes at you tells you otherwise. He's dead serious. So serious that you don't even have a response to that, whatever confidence you had before freezes and you just look into his eyes.
Your little pause gave you enough time to come up with a response, "Maybe I do," You blurt out before turning your head away.
You then start walking forward, Geto's hands slipping off your body as you do so. He raises one of those hands to his jaw and rubs it a little, letting out a scoff in reaction to your straightforwardness.
The change between the woman you present yourself to be now versus the woman he first met is quite noticeable. Not that he prefers one over the other, Geto enjoyed it when you were stuttering over simple words but he also likes how upfront you're being tonight. It makes him wonder if you'll still be acting this way later on tonight while he-
"C'mon Suguru, we have reservations to get to. Remember?" You throw out to him, taking him from his thoughts as you exit the building and he soon catches up to you.
Again, he scoffs. This time Geto smiles as he follows you out. Tonight will be fun. He thinks to himself.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The two of you took an Uber to the restaurant, the air within the ride blooming with lust. His hand ends up resting on your thigh during the ride, playing with the plush of your skin every now and then.
Each squeeze he gives to your leg makes you squirm, whispering to him that it tickles and earning a chuckle from him. As the car drives through the streets of the city, Geto's hand only plans to tease you more.
At first, it merely rested atop your thigh, but as the ride continued, he slowly slid it so that his fingers were right against your inner thigh.
He continues to toy with your skin before he leans over to you, whispering into your ear, "You plan on teasing me all night?"
You smile, "Maybe."
His hand pulls on your thigh a bit, causing your legs to part. "Think you can handle what your teasing invokes?" Geto questions, almost as if he were trying to warn you.
You laugh his question off and turn your head to look at him, your faces closer than you expected them to be. "I think so, yeah." You say half-confidently.
The raven-haired male's eyes dip down to your lips and he bites down on his lower one. That hand of his begins sliding up and you gasp as his fingers tread dangerously close to your crotch.
"Yeah? Well, I'll tell you from now, you can't." He claims.
With a roll of your eyes, you scoff and turn your head away from him, "Whatever."
Geto's hand parts your legs even wider and he pushes himself to your ear, "You could hardly handle Satoru," He taunts, moving his other hand in between your legs and pressing two fingers against you. "What makes you think you can handle me, gorgeous?"
Your body tenses and you're quick to shoot your hand down over his wrist, attempting to move him away. His fingers knead into you and your jaw drops a little as your eyes widen. The two of you are almost to the restaurant and you're frantically looking at the Uber driver to ensure that they're not paying attention.
Luckily, their focus is completely on the road ahead but that doesn't stop you from feeling anxious.
You close your legs on Geto's hand and he snickers in your ear, "Want me to stop?" He asks.
Despite his question, his two fingers rub against your underwear, taking the idea of teasing to another level. Your head nods in response but your hips push into his touch a little, causing him to furrow his brows.
"Shit, you're naughty." He whispers lowly, "In an Uber? Seriously?"
"Fuck, n-no..." You murmur, turning your head to him, "Move your hand, please?" You slightly gasp out, arousal spurring within you due to the gentle teasing rub of Geto's digits.
He does, sliding his hand away just as you requested. A mischievous smile is plastered across his face now and you're quick to realize... Gojo was right; Geto does in fact plan to have a 'field day' with you-- and this was only the beginning.
That, and Geto just confirmed for a second time that he is well aware of your intentions, probably the list you're forced to go through, and even the fact that you've already slept with Gojo.
Damn that white-haired asshole. Of course he told Geto everything, you shouldn't be surprised.
The issue is, now you'll likely have to deal with Geto taunting you about that stupid list and he may not even sleep with you tonight just to tarnish your plans.Great...
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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bangtanflirt · 8 months
Text
(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)
I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!
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angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)
____
The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.
“Who are you?”
The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.
“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”
“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”
“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”
She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.
You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.
Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.
It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.
“It’s lukewarm.”
“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”
You wave your hand dismissively.
“No need. You’re fired.”
The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.
“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”
“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”
She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.
“Please! Please, I need this!”
You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.
Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.
“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”
Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.
“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”
“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”
“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”
You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.
You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall.  Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.
“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”
“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”
“Still?”
The tension in the air is palpable.
“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”
“So they’re cooking the books?”
“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”
“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”
The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.
“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”
A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.
“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”
“It’s just—”
“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”
Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.
You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”
That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.
It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.
___
The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.
“Y/N! Long time no see!”
You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).
Yup. A typical day.
Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.
“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.
“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”
You keep your smile through gritted teeth.
“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”
“I’m sure.”
The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.
“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”
“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.
“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”
“Sounds good sir.”
What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.
So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.
“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”
“What type of technology are we talking?”
“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”
You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.
“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”
“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”
“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”
He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.
Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.
Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.
“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”
You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.
“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”
You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.
“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”
You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.
“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”
“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”
Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.
“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”
So you hold your breath and swipe.
And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.
This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.
Holy fuck.
“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”
Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.
“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”
“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”
You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.
Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.
“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”
There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.
“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”
Shit. He got you. Checkmate.
The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.
“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”
You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.
“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.
“Excuse me?!”
“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”
It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.
You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.
“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”
___
The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.
It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.
“This is where you’ll be staying.”
You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.
“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”
He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
No response.
“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”
Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.
“I’m hungry Miss.”
It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.
That’s when the realization hits you.
If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.
It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.
You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.
“Eat up.”
With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.
And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.
____
A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!
2K notes · View notes
clownd1ck · 2 months
Text
trouble, j. miller | chapter one
mob!joel miller x fem!reader
chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.
chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it
also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL
word count: 2518
(series masterlist)
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you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.
you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.
you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.
can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-
“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.
“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.
the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.
“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?
you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”
“excuse me?”
“the books aren’t in the right order.”
there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?
“did you ask for them in a certain order?”
the girl gives you a look. “no?”
“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.
the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.
“you’re fired.” she states.
“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.
on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.
you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.
he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.
“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.
your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.
a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”
“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.
“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.
“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.
“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”
“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.
“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?
“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”
“what club?”
“apocalypse.”
you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”
joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”
you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.
joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.
“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”
nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.
____
“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.
“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.
“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.
“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.
“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”
you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”
you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”
you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”
joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”
“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.
“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.
“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”
“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”
brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”
“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”
“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.
he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”
the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.
“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”
you nod your head at him.
“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”
joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.
“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.
the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”
“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.
joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”
as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.
“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.
you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”
lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”
you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”
“i don’t have to pay you for them?”
adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.
you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.
this was your life now.
____
a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO
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chaoticloving · 10 months
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18
harry styles x reader
warnings: mentions of sex
summary: y/n tries to take a pregnancy test without harry finding out, but of course, he does.
a/n: not trying to speak it into existence but lowkey one of my fave tropes is pregnancy scares 😭 i’ve been dying to write this
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Harry was leaving in nine days.
Nine days until her boyfriend leaves for his first world tour. And at this moment, while Harry was out in last minute rehearsal, Y/n was sitting on her bed, looking at the ceiling, wondering why the hell she hasn't had her period yet.
Pregnancy was the first thing that crossed her mind. How could it not be?
A part of her doesn't want to ever take a pregnancy test. She doesn't want it to be real. She can't be pregnant at 18, and she knew Harry shouldn't be a dad at 18 too. So would she even tell Harry is she was pregnant?
She was heavily considering it, accept the fact she's pregnant and not telling the father, who will forever be her love.
Y/n and Harry met in secondary school and the relationship bloomed from there. And when the couple found out that the One direction tour was set in stone, they were scared to be apart from one another, so it was about a month after the announcement that they decided to loose their virginities to each other. Of course before this they had already done some things, they just realized that they wanted to do it, soon, before they were apart for several months.
From there they fucked like rabbits. The love shared between them, along with the knew found pleasure, fueled their excessivness. And, now that Y/n was thinking about it, it is more than likley that Harry forgot a condom some time.
"Fuck." Y/n groaned, turning around on her bed. She looked on her bedside table and saw that she had less than an hour until Harry should be back at the hotel they were sharing in central London.
She got up, grabbed her bag, and sprinted out of the hotel room. When she entered the elevator and the doors closed, the weight of what she was doing finally landed on her.
Would she tell Harry? She couldn't. Harry shouldn't be tied down like this at 18. And his carrer, taking off! He wouldn't even have time to care for a child, not the way a parent should.
A small part of her remembered the pre-x-factor days, where Harry told her he would like to be a dad. He said he wasn't ready yet, then at 16, but he wanted to help create a happy home.
But he's not ready yet, and quite frankly, neither is Y/n.
The doors open and she sprints out the hotel lobby, hood up and sun glasses so no one gets a sneaky picture of Harry Styles rumored girlfriend getting a pregnacy test.
She went to the nearest Tesco, grabbed a congradulations card along with the test just so the cashire wouldnt be as judgy.
In less then twenty mintues, she was sitting on the toilet seat, waiting for the five minutes to be up. She didn't notice the tears forming in her eyes, scared for the future. One without Harry.
"Hey babe!" Harrys voice echoed throughout the hotel room. Y/n jumped up and grabbed her test, putting it in her pocket, and grabbing her phone.
Y/n put on a smile, leaving the bathroom like she was doing the walk of shame. "Hey."
"You alright? You look teary-"
Y/n's alarm went off, making Y/n jump and rushed into her pocket to get her phone out to turn it off, but when she put the phone back in her pocket, the test fell out.
Harry and Y/n just stood there for a couple of seconds looking first at the blue test and then they met each others eyes. Y/n's had tears in them, now trickling down her face; Harry's, though, were confused. His eyebrows were scrunched and anyone could see this mind working to understand what that test is, and what it means.
Y/n raced down to get it, to know what the results were, but Harry's reflexes were quicker. He grabbed the test and saw the little screen.
"What." He paused, taking a deep breath. "What does a minus sign mean?"
Y/n started crying. Not happy tears, but not sad. Harry wrapped his arms around his love.
“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Harry cooed. He tried his best to remain calm, but he saw his life flash before his eyes when he saw that stick—he couldn’t deny that he was feeling uneasy himself. “How long where you thinking that you, we, were—“
His voice trailed off, not sure if he wants to say it.
“I dunno, few days?” She guessed, sniffling a bit and clutching the test that was now in her hands. “I didn’t want to say anything…”
“You should, you always can.” Harry assured. “I mean, I can’t believe you thought you were pregnant and I just left to rehearsal like nothing was the matter!” His raised tone was at himself, angry he didn’t notice something was up.
“Don’t say that.” Y/n sighed.
They were holding each other for a bit which only ment Y/n could think of what happened in the past few minutes.
“H, can I admit something?”
Her voice was soft, more together, but still had a death grip on Harry’s arm.
“Always.”
“If the stick was positive, and I was pregnant.” She paused, not sure if she wanted to tell him. “I couldn’t…make you a father at 18.”
“Love you know I support any of your choices-“
“No, not like that.”Harry gulped, unsure of the next words out of his girlfriends mouth. “I don’t want to hold you back from who you can be. And I think this scare was a wake up call. You need to find out who you are-“
“But I do know.” Harry interrupted. “I love being with you. A baby wouldn’t change that even at 18. If I’m understanding what you’re saying, I’d look for you, and the baby.
“I am not Harry Styles without you.”
“H.” Her voice trailed off and she gave him a quick kiss before tightening their hold on one another. “Even with all it the fame?”
“When I have sold out tours, I’ll always be looking for you in the crowd.”
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leahsgirl · 3 months
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star girl | lucy bronze x reader
based off the request ‘maybe one with Lucy, that the r scores in the euros final like the winning goal’. let’s imagine it’s the 23’ world cup final again and leah + beth never tore their acl’s xx
It’s safe to say tensions were high in the locker room as you and your fellow England teammates prepared for one of the biggest matches of your careers. Sarina had opted for the same line-up that secured your team the european championship a year prior, just a few changes here and there.
Yourself was on the bench as a substitute, however, it didn’t make the experience any less nerve-wracking. Double knotting the laces on your boot, you walked over to a familiar brunette.
“it’s totally normal to feel sick to my stomach right?” She chuckles, as if she isn’t about to go out to a crowd of 75,000+ people. “The life of a footballer love.”
“How have you played three world cups? I feel like a heart attack is going to hit me any minute.” Sitting next to her, she squeezes your hand and kisses your temple. “Calmer?” The older girl asks. “Calmer.” You confirm, leaning your head on her shoulder for a brief minute.
You would describe your relationship with Lucy very much black cat x golden retriever; while you was often energetic and switching through emotions like tv channels, lucy was the opposite. While she liked to have fun and be sarcastic and all, she was actually a very chill person who would just go with the flow.
Lucy and you had been dating for just over a year and a half with only close friends and family knowing. You’d be lying if you had your doubts if the both of you would even last - with Lucy playing in Barcelona and you for your childhood club Manchester United, but you stuck it out and recently just bought your first place together.
It was 7:45pm over in Sydney Australia, both opposing teams beginning to line up next to each other in the tunnel. You and the other substitutes were to come out after the starting players. You prayed to God you could come away with a win tonight - you knew how hard each and everyone of you worked and to win the world cup would just be the cherry on top to an undefeated championship run youse had going.
Walking out, it all suddenly got very real. The cheers from the crowd made you smile as you took your seat.
The referee blew her whistle; it was go time. You watched the game intensely, weighing up the stats of your team and the opposing team. Spain was playing good and the nerves in your stomach were intensifying with each passing second.
“Oh shit look!” Ella pointed over at James who was now running down a practically free pitch. “Come on, come on.” You muttered under your breath as you see Spain’s goalkeeper take her stance. James went to hit the ball, it travelling at a good speed. Unlucky for you and your team, it just narrowly missed the goal and instead hit the crossbar - the goalkeeper catching it as it fell back down, opting to roll it to one of her Spanish teammates.
Ten minutes had passed and your team was yet to make another chance, Spain players literally tackling left and right. It all came crashing down however when Carmona scored twenty-nine minutes in, managing to slot the ball into the corner of the net. As the opposing team celebrated you couldn’t help but feel bad for your girlfriend who you know would be blaming herself for the goal after she gave away the ball taking on three players at once.
The game carried on with a profound feeling of desperation. While Beth, both Laurens and even Keira had a shot at goal, none of the attempts made it into the net. You was happy to hear the half-time whistle blow, running down the steps and back through the tunnel.
“It’s not your fault, don’t even think it.” Knowing exactly the thoughts going on in your girlfriend’s head, you rubbed her back supportively. “I got too bloody cocky, I should’ve just passed it back.” Lucy ran her slim fingers through her tied back hair.
“Hey hey, we still have another forty five minutes to show them what we’ve got. And I don’t know about you, but I think Bronze over here shouldn’t stop aiming for gold.” Her lips tugged at a grin over your partially lame joke. “You’re right, as always. Don’t know what I’d do without my woman.” She quickly pecked your lips.
“Okay lovebirds, keep it in your pants - we have a game to win.” Keira piped up, giving both you and lucy a little smack on the back of the head.
It’s safe to say after the pep talks the squad received in the locker room, England was on top form. It also helped that Spain had let go of the reigns a little, clearly thinking they were safe with the one nil advantage.
The 68th minute. That’s when the crowd started to get a whole lot louder and players were charging down one side of the pitch. Hemp had control of the ball, slowing just before the box and passing it to Beth. The blonde hit the ball with her left foot sending it straight into the back of the goal. Cheers roared through the stadium as you celebrated with the other girls on the bench. The scoreline now 1-1, you was still in this.
Your time had come to make a debut in the game, walking onto the outskirts of the pitch, Sarina going through the plan with you. James was the girl who was making way for your appearance, giving you a double high-five and pat on the back.
Running onto the pitch, adrenaline rushed through you as you made eye contact with a certain someone and sent her a wink. You hadn’t even managed to get three passes before you were caught with studs pressing into your ankle, sending you down onto the ground “What the fuck was that for?” It’s not like you was massive threat to the Spanish team at that moment considering you was about to pass the ball back up your end.
Luckily you were awarded a free kick, having alex take it. The match was getting more tense the longer you played, both teams creating good chances. Spain was even awarded a penalty which thank god Mary saved.
91 minutes. The game had entered extra time. Scores still level.
You watched as Keira dribbled with the ball, passing to Leah who kicked it up the pitch. Weighing up where the ball was in the sky and where you was near the goal you saw your chance; jumping up in the air you threw your body back, your left foot getting a hit on the ball which sent it flying into the net. Getting up off the grass, you look at one of the assistant referee’s to make sure it wasn’t offside.
His flag staying down, you dropped to your knees in disbelief. The girls ran over to you cheering and shouting your name while practically assaulting you with hugs.
The final whistle was blown about thirty seconds later with your whole squad now coming into the pitch. Familiar hands wrapped around your torso and lifted you into the air, carrying you bridal style. “You’re fucking incredible you know that?” The brunette spun you around grinning like a little child.
Once put down you cupped her face in your hands, overcome with emotion and smashed your lips onto hers. Although the defender was taken back, she gave into the moment and kissed you back with just the same intensity. It wasn’t the way either of you was planning to make the relationship public but hey, you just won the biggest tournament of your lives and wanted to celebrate with your special lady.
it wasn't long before you was ambushed by your team shouting compliments left right and centre. the crowd was also off on one, the volume making your ears ring.
walking back through the tunnel and into the locker room you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when a voice whispered into your ear "follow me."
obliging by the command and plodding behind the brunette, she dragged you into what appeared to be a storage room, miscellaneous sports equipment scattered around.
pushing you up against the cold wall which made you audibly gasp she planted a searing kiss onto your lips, hands having a firm hold of your waist. you reacted almost immediately, placing you hand on the back of her neck and bringing the two of you even closer.
"god i love you." the older woman breathed out as she moved from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking the skin to the point you was squirming in effort to not make any noise.
"i should score goals more often if this is how i get rewarded." forcing her to look at you, you reconnected your lips wasting no time in biting her bottom lip and snaking your tongue inside.
just as she slid her hand under your shirt there was a bang on the door. "lucia bronze and y/n y/l/n! if youse two are not out of there in ten seconds i will kick this door down myself!" tooney shouted.
you placed one last peck on lucy's cheek "i think we've been caught."
the right-back rolled her eyes. "we're continuing this later." she smirked, hitting your butt before unlocking and opening the door for you.
-
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liked by youruser and 2,792,051 others
lucybronze Won the world cup and the girlfriend jackpot. On top of the world right now.
youruser 🤍
creator has limited comment access.
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seat-safety-switch · 2 months
Text
Have you ever noticed how weird it is that microwaves all cook in roughly the same time? Sure, if you squint, you'll notice that some microwaves will say on their fronts 700 watts, others 1500 watts, but this increased power doesn't make a material difference in your life. You'll still be waiting about two minutes for your corndog to become screechingly hot, an eternity when you're hungry. There's only one notable exception: the giant, intimidating, stainless-steel microwave at your corner convenience store.
You might think that this is easy to fix. Go to the bankruptcy auction for a convenience store, buy one. Have you ever seen a convenience store go bankrupt? They are basically money printers, and any region in which they go under will already have had the microwave picked clean by gangs of near-feral copper thieves. The manufacturers won't talk to you, either: why would they bother with your dumb domestic ass, and your crybaby questions about "what kind of cord does this take," when they could use the same phone call to sell fifty more microwaves to 7-Eleven?
No, it's just like my grandfather used to say: if you want a job done right, you have to half-ass it yourself and then claim victory anyway. I would have to understand how to make a microwave. With the help of my local librarian, I was able to check out some useful books, such as Electronics For The Precocious Nine-Year-Old and its sequel, Advanced Electronics For The Nine-Year-Old Orphan. It takes a village to raise a child, or more accurately, to produce a twenty-five thousand watt, V8-powered microwave that can cook a frozen potato to "atomized" in just over seventeen seconds.
We're going to market some time next year, but in the meantime, you can buy my plans and build one yourself. All you need is an undefended electrical substation near you, some wire cutters, and absolutely no self-preservation instinct. Hey, it's an investment. Think of how much extra time you've been wasting waiting for a breakfast burrito to cook. You could use that time trying to get bail instead.
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dixonsdolls · 10 months
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CLOSER | DARYL DIXON
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SYNOPSIS ❥ On the road, you can’t seem to focus on anything other than wanting Daryl to fuck you senseless. Because he’s such a good boyfriend, you get what you want.
Pairing ❥ Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Content warnings ❥ 18+ content (MDNI), porn without plot, creampie, unprotected p in v, oral (daryl receiving!), dirty talk, car sex, basically reader being feral (like we all are)
Word Count ❥ 2.3k
A/N ❥ hi my loves!! long time no see, i know </3 been busy with stuff irl but i wanted to get this piece out for you all as a thank you for hitting 100 followers! it means the world to me <3 hope y’all enjoy this, im squeezing my legs as we speak bc whew. and also, the picture is purely there to generate imagery, there are no descriptions of the reader! xoxo, sammy
— ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆
“You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you
I wanna fuck you like an animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
I wanna fuck you like an animal”
Closer by Nine Inch Nails
— ☾ ゚。⋆
“What?”
His gruff voice spooked you from your lustful haze, where you’d been glancing over at Daryl every couple seconds. You shook your head in a fruitless attempt to clear your sinful thoughts, before meeting his eyes.
“Hmm?” You spoke softly, it was all you could do in your state. Oh, how you wanted him to pull over and let you have your way with him.
“Been starin’ at me since we got in the car. Do I got somethin’ on my face or what?” Daryl sounded annoyed, but you knew him better to just be deeply confused by your actions. You couldn’t exactly blame him, it’d been over twenty minutes and you’d barely spoken since you both had left for a supply run.
But you couldn’t help it. With your panties soaked, slit slippery and clit throbbing in neglect, you were desperately trying to act normal.
Clearly, you’d failed.
It was Daryl’s fault; you’d been fine until you saw him leant against a porch pillar, lighting up a cigarette. You couldn’t explain it because you’d seen him smoke before, but something about the way he looked then had your thighs squeezing, breath catching.
He was busy talking to Rick, blowing smoke as he spoke intently. His arms were bulging, muscles on full display as they moved to further prove his words. The vest did nothing to offer cover and with his pretty lips wrapped around the cigarette, you felt faint. His brown locks were shaggy, covering his eyes in a way that made you wanna tug them as you kissed.
Simply put, you’d wanted him to ruin you.
“No, baby. Jus’ look pretty today is all.” You sighed, now staring at him shamelessly as you leant against the car door to have him in your full view.
“Pretty?!” Daryl scoffed, affronted at the very suggestion. Even so, his ears heated up and his cheeks tinged the slightest shade of pink. “Can’ say I've heard that one before.”
“You are,” You promised, voice filled to the brim with adoration for him because yeah, your archer was fuckin’ pretty and deserved to be told. “Look super handsome today.”
“Shut up.” His gruff voice sounded, rolling his eyes at you as you’d made him flush again.
“I’m serious! Got me all flustered, ever since this mornin’!” You huffed, voice whiny and light, throwing your head back against the window for relief on your heated skin.
With your admission, he averted his gaze from the road to you, silently groaning at your blown out pupils, the pink flush dancing across your cheeks and down your chest.
Jesus, you were serious. How the fuck was he supposed to continue on driving when he had his girl next to him, needy for him?
“Fuck.” He spoke, noting that you had now taken your seatbelt off and were shuffling closer to him. “What’re you doin?”
You’d opted to take an old pickup truck and there wasn’t any middle console, just a continuation of the bench. For what you had in mind, you silently thanked whoever came up with that design.
“Pull over, Daryl.” With a breathy voice, you pressed a wet kiss onto his neck. Hearing a hitch in his breath, you licked up his neck until you reached his scruffy cheek, moaning as you did so. “Please, need you so bad.”
The car jerked suddenly as you palmed his strong thigh, teeth nibbling on his earlobe. He felt himself harden in his pants at the feel of your dainty hands touching him, of your plushy lips soothing the sting your teeth had left behind.
“Can’t, sunshine. It’s not safe to be sittin’ in the road bein’ distracted.” He spoke with regret, especially as your hand palmed his dick over the material. He wanted you safe though, and he wasn’t lying when he thought it was dangerous to pull over in the middle of nowhere. “Just wait til we get— fuck.”
His words muddled into a string of curses, car wobbling again as you’d released him before pulling his cock from his pants, zipper undone.
“Wanna suck you off.”
And shit, with the way you were looking at him, with the way you wet your lips as you looked at his dick, he wanted to stuff your mouth full.
“Dammit, you’re such a fuckin’ brat.” You bent down, level with his crotch as you gawked at his exposed dick, precum now bubbling at the tip.
You licked your lips at the sight of white, pearly beads and before he could process it, his engorged tip was in the warm confines of your mouth, suckling soft and slow.
“Cant ever behave, can you? Jesus, baby.” He looked down at you, grunting as your eyes met his just as you swirled your tongue over him, dipping into his drippy slit. You hummed at the salty flavor of him, giving a few more sucks to his tip, before releasing it with a ‘pop’, a string of saliva connecting your puffy lips to him.
You’d only stopped because you noticed he’d let off the gas, the car barely even moving down the deserted street.
“Drive.” You demanded, gripping his base and jerking at a teasingly slow pace, eyes piercing his pretty blue ones. You leaned in to his face, licking his bottom lip before sucking the soft skin into your mouth. Daryl was so unbelievably turned on from your behavior that your voice barely registered. You released his lip, planting a wet kiss onto him before looking at him again. “Drive the car, or I’m stopping. It’s not safe to stop, remember?”
And from the snarl that appeared on his spit-slick mouth, you knew you’d pay for saying that.
“Nah, I can’t focus when your mouth is o—“
“Drive.”
Your command surged him into action, partially because your bratty attitude was making him throb and partially because he needed his dick down your throat, now.
The engine roared as he pressed down on the gas. Then, he gripped your hair tightly, scalp tingling as he made you look at him.
“Suck.” When you made no move, because you’d been too fucking entranced by how hot Daryl was, especially as he yanked your hair roughly, he grunted. “Now, your pissin’ me off with your little fuckin’ angel eyes.”
His words, along with his grip on your hair, had you parting your lips and sucking him down.
The car was filled with the filthy noises your mouth made as you switched between licking him from base to tip and then wrapping swollen lips around him. His taste was overwhelming your senses and your cunt ached to be filled. The rumble of the car kept jiggling your body and you gagged around him as you slid lower onto him.
Tears pooled your lash line but instead of letting up, you bobbed your head up and down to hear more of his groans. The only time Daryl was truly vocal was when you sucked him off and shit, if it didn’t make you wet.
You snuck a hand around to pet your pussy, the throb becoming too much to ignore, when Daryl suddenly pulled you off him. And the sight of you had him bucking into the air; a mix of spit and his precum coated your lips, your eyes wet from crying on his cock, hair messy around your face.
You looked so pretty like this, all cock-drunk.
“Don’t get to touch yourself, not with your fuckin’ attitude.” His tone was so gravely, so assertive that instead of being annoyed, you whimpered. “Now, get your pants off and c’mere.”
It was only then you’d noticed that he’d stopped the car, trees surrounded the vehicle as nothing was in sight for miles.
Your demanding act was far gone; you needed Daryl inside you.
Without another thought, you clambered from your kneeling spot and wiggled out of your pants as best as you could, though your movements were jittery as Daryl watched you the entire time, eyes nearly black with need.
Finally free, you swung yourself onto his lap and moaned loudly; his cock, hard and still coated in your spit, rubbed at your thinly covered cunt as you sat atop him. The buckle of his pants was cold and you jolted as its coolness hit your puffy clit.
“Fuck, Daryl.” You gripped his long strands, yanking as you humped him. The sight of you all whiny and pathetic for him made him grunt lowly before catching your parted lips in a kiss. “Mmph.”
Immediately, the kiss was obscene. Daryl rubbed his tongue with yours, swallowing your whines as the muscles danced with one another. Spit was pooling at the corner of your mouth and as he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you both.
Breathing heavily, Daryl reached between you both and pulled your underwear to the side, swearing as he did so.
“So fuckin’ wet, honey. All this for me?” His eyes flickered across your face as you stared back, lust drenching your features as you huffed.
“All for you,” you gasped, lips bumping his and fingers pulling his hair. His fingers found your entrance, marveling at how fucking soaked you were. Daryl leaned into you, capturing your mouth with his as you whimpered into him as he shoved two fingers in at once.
For a bit, thats all it was and it was a fucking sight. You, clinging to Daryl as you greedily kissed him, moans spilling from you as his fingers filled you. Him, fucking you with one hand whilst the other gripped your ass harshly, pulling the flesh as he rocked you against his fingers inside you.
You would’ve come like that, if he hadn’t then removed them just as your orgasm tickled your gut.
“What the fu—“ you were cut off by Daryl as he shoved his fingers, the ones that were just inside you and therefore covered in slick, inside your parted mouth.
“Shh, thats it.” He marveled as you sucked and cleaned his fingers like the good girl he knew you were.
Pulling them from your lips, he dragged the wetness across your cheek before crashing his lips to yours. You both made noises because the musky and sweetness of you lingered on your tongue. With your taste coating his tastebuds, he snapped.
Daryl parted from you before one hand gripped you and the other grabbed his cock, moving until you were sinking down onto him.
Your cries mingled with his groans; your tight, wet heat sucked him down and finally, he was inside you and filling you up, just like you’d wanted.
“Fuck, Daryl.” You whined, hips swiveling to get used to his size. You were torn between the relief of being filled to the brim and the discomfort because of how big he was.
“This what you wanted, huh? Just so fuckin’ needy you had to stop us in the fuckin’ road?” He grunted, a calloused hand coming to grip your throat, the tightness steadying you. “My filthy girl.”
Then, he thrusted up into you and the sound you made was like a symphony of music to his ears. Spurred on, he kept thrusting into your pussy, groaning at the wet, slippery sounds filling the car. You were so overwhelmed with pleasure and the feel of him that you just clung to him, rolling your hips and humping your clit against him as you took each thrust he gave you.
Though, one particular move was so fucking deep it had you mewl, fingernails digging into the soft skin of Daryl’s neck.
“Daryl,” you gasped, euphoria pumping through every crevice of your body. The buckle of his belt was now slick as your clit continued to hump. “So big— uh, uh— so big.”
His hand gripped your throat firmly, fastening his pace as helped you move with him by lifting your ass in tandem with his hips.
You were a mess; blubbering nonsense to him as your cunt repeatedly clenched down on him as you grew closer to your peak. Daryl was so high on you, your pretty sounds, and suddenly, he needed to see more of your skin.
He removed his grip from your ass to yank your shirt up and he let out a grunt as he saw your absence of a bra. Then, without any other preamble, his lips wrapped around a peaked nipple, sucking wetly.
The mix of his mouth making out with your chest and his cock filling you up at such a haste pace had you crying out, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shuddered on his lap.
Your orgasm had triggered his own; the feel of your sopping pussy squeezing him and your cry of pleasure sent him over the edge.
His moans were animalistic as he filled you to the brim, thrusts losing their rhythm as he pumped his spend into you.
“Daryl—“ you whispered, suddenly exhausted and wanting him closer to you, despite your limbs being intertwined with one another tightly. “Baby.”
“Such a good girl,” he spoke into your neck, making no move to remove his softening cock from you. Even if he did try, you wouldn’t let him. The crazed feeling you’d felt was finally soothed, his cock inside you released relief throughout your body.
Daryl brought a finger between your thighs and his cock twitched inside you as he collected both your orgasms. “Open.”
Because you’d do anything he told you, you wordlessly opened your mouth and moaned as he stuck come covered fingers between your lips. He watched you as you sucked his fingers clean, eyes hooded with tiredness.
“C’mon, gotta get home.” He patted your waist, adoration swirling in his chest as you made no move to return to your seat. In fact, you just scooted closer until your nose grazed his sweaty neck.
“Thought we needed to get stuff.”
“Nah, we’ll just say we couldn’ find anythin’” Daryl brought a hand to your hair, gently brushing your head as you pressed kisses to his collarbone.
You both stayed connected for awhile; maybe two minutes, maybe two hours. Being close with Daryl was exactly what you’d needed to feel a little less feral.
Though, as you both finally rolled through the gates with messy hair and flushed faces, everyone looked at you both knowingly.
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manias-wordcount · 6 months
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Never Enough (Silva Zoldyck)
Kinktober 2023 Day Twenty-Four: Breeding
𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?
𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?
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“You smell so sweet, my love. Surely it must be time for you to give me another one, yes?”
  Given the person you married, such words aren’t too odd to hear anymore. Especially early, early in the morning. And especially accompanied by the feeling of hands pulling at your nightgown and tugging it above your head. After all, you’ve been in the game for long enough to know that whenever you wake up to the feeling of your husband’s large hands spreading open your thighs and him lapping at your cunt, it’s usually because you’re ovulating. 
  And when you’re wed to a man like Silva Zoldyck, ovulation days tend to mean a whole lot of nothing but him pounding away at your body and filling you up to the brim with his seed as many times as he possibly can. 
  With the hopes that one of these days will result in a nice, shiny gift being brought into the family around nine months later. 
  Of course, your husband doesn’t really need an excuse to put his hands on you. In fact, if this was any single other day on the calendar, he would be more than happy to take you anywhere, any time. In any position. In any place. But those days he would wait until you were up and awake and coherent before diving in for his sneak attack. But those are the days he fucks you because he wants you. They’re way different from the days he fucks you because he wants to put another baby in you. 
  As if two of you don’t have enough of those yet.
  But all too soon, the sleepiness and the grumpiness melt away from your face. The pout that you were trying so hard to keep up easily slips into something a little more lewd as your husband digs his tongue inside of your lower walls, trying to make you nice and wet and loose for the absolute monster he has still tucked in his trousers. And it’s in your lustful haze that you really decide that there’s no point in being so stubborn. That you don’t even know why you woke up feeling like you wanted to be this stubborn. Perhaps it’s some lingering feelings from your last post-natal period. Perhaps it’s something else. You wouldn’t know. 
  You’re just supposed to be Silva’s cute little wife. The nice and sweet little homemaker of the family. The one who pumps out all the babies. The one who’s just a hole for her husband to use. 
  And the one who won’t say anything- just whimper and whine and moan as her husband pulls away from her pretty little pussy just to have her present it to him on all fours like a good, good, good girl.
  Already, the sleepy part of your brain misses the feeling of his tongue inside of you and his lips wrapped around your clit. You can’t help but wish that you took the time to enjoy it. That you took the time to soak it all in- maybe even ride his face a little bit more. He did have the nose for it, after all. But you don’t quite have the luxury for that anymore. Because right now, you’re face down and ass up. And Silva’s large, large hands, and coming up to grab at your hips. To align his cock. To push it inside.
  And to breed you.
  There’s no time to waste. The second your warm, wet walls give in and let his dick push past their defenses, he’s snapping to sheath his full length inside of you. Only to pull it out a half second later and to 
    And you know this. You know this for a fact because the man behind you barely gives you a moment- barely gives you a second to breathe. Because from minute one, his goal is to impale you on his cock. To care less about your comfort. After all, he can do that on another day. He can do that when he’s feeling kind and caring. But today isn’t going to be one of those days. Instead, today is going to be one of those days where it marks the first of a couple of days where your children probably won’t see you. Where your body will constantly feel like it never had energy to begin with. Where your skin will know nothing but your husband and his touch and his voice. His commands and the bruises he leaves. His breath and heartbeat. Joining you. Becoming one with you. Over and over and over again. For one reason and one reason alone.
  “This next one is going to be a girl,” Silva murmurs from behind you, leaning in closer to hold you tight against his body. You gasp out as the change in position allows for him to hit an angle more deeply Your mind doesn’t even register that he’s speaking to you. That he’s saying saying to you. You’re far too gone. Far too focused on doing your best to stay up on your two shaking legs as your husband slams into you from behind with far too much power and energy for one man this early in the morning.“A strong one. I can feel it.”
  You whine in response- once again, unable to form the right words. Or any words, for that matter. Your mind has quickly gone to mush. And now you’re at the point, where you’re far too focused on gripping at the sheets in front of you and trying not to be blown away by the sheer force and purpose and hope he puts behind every thrust of his throbbing hard cock into your awaiting hole. A hole you know will be soon pumped full of his seed. And even then, it’s hard to imagine that he’d stop.
  After all, you’ve only given him five children so far. And you’re still so young. Still so able to bear such powerful children. Still so able to take him- all of him without breaking. So what’s one more little pair of hands and feet running around the manor in a year? What’s a few more tears to dry and bright eyes to love? What’s one more show of the physical bond between husband and wife? Between mother and father. Man and woman. What’s one more?
    “We’ll get you pregnant again, my dear. Just watch me.” 
  Well, it’s what Silva wants. And you’ve been in the game for long enough to know that for Silva?
“I’ll make you big and swollen with my child today, even if it kills you.”
  One more is never enough.
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todayontumblr · 4 months
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Monday, December 18.
Willkommen.
History was made on this day, twenty years ago. The last installment in The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Return of the King, was released in cinemas. It grossed over $1.1 billion worldwide, making it the second highest-grossing film of all time. It won all eleven Oscars for which it was nominated, including Best Picture (the first fantasy to do so), at the 76th Academy Awards. The sequel to 2002's The Two Towers, and the completion of the story started by The Fellowship of the Ring, it was a cinematic landmark and a pop culture behemoth. Like its two predecessors, the film was widely acclaimed by critics and loved by audiences across the globe. But they were, all of them, deceived—for another film was made.
In 2004, Dominic Monaghan, the actor alias used by renowned German film critic Hans Jensen, interviewed the trilogy's star, Elijah Wood. In these nine bracing minutes of footage, Mr. Jensen probed his interviewee on the matters of the day: losing time within yourself, kicking balls, dolphins, and the wearing of wigs. It makes for quite remarkable viewing almost two decades later.
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“ twenty–bucks. „
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mcu!peter parker x fem!reader.
IN WHICH — the avengers had their theories about you and peter’s secret pining, but it wasn’t until a mission went wrong that they realized how serious it was.
WARNINGS (18+) → mentions of blood/wounds, cursing, angst, fluff, hurt reader.
✨masterlist✨.
2k.
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Peter had been counting the minutes since you two started dating. It had been twenty months since you joined the Avengers, seventeen months since he realized how hard he’d fallen for you, nine months since you first kissed, and eight and a half months since you started your relationship.
It were though it all happened yesterday. Everything felt like it happened so fast; yet on the other hand, everything felt like it hadn’t even happened at all.
Tony Stark had scolded Peter about the difficulties of dating an Avenger, and what harm that would do to their reputation, how the government would respond, the amount of paperwork the two of you would have to fill out…blah blah blah.
Despite how often their teammates teased them, or encouraged the other to make a move, you two decided to keep your relationship a secret.
Hiding a relationship from the Avengers wouldn’t be too difficult. At least, that’s what you told him. It certainly added some adrenaline to your dynamic; the secret hand holds under the table at meetings, side–eyed conversations across the room, fucking in the storage closet as quietly as possible, the little things.
You made it all worth the risk. That is, until he remembered what the real risk of dating an Avenger really was.
Peter practically flew off the ground with how fast he ran towards you. His ears rang, deafening him from how quiet the world fell around him as he kept himself focused on your limp figure. The glossing breeze over his suit felt numbing, especially as he tripped and slid on his knees til he was finally able to take you in his arms.
“Baby..” He broke the silence, shaky fingers grazed your arm as he rolled your body over. “Babe, we–” Quick to examine you, his eyes fell wide at the large gash in your abdomen. Blood pooled out through your suit from the glass lodged in your stomach, still poking out of your skin. Peter swallowed thickly, trying to keep himself from panic.
The entire world stopped moving.
His entire world stopped moving.
Everything ran cold.
Peter didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know how he could’ve let this happen. One second, you were assigned to keep watch in the abandoned foyer, and the next? Peter left you for what felt like two seconds to kick a grimy dude’s ass or two, and there you were: unconscious and bleeding out.
“Kid? Squirt?” Tony asked through the earpiece intercoms, referring to both Peter and his unconscious girlfriend. As startling as the sudden voice was, Peter needed it to ground him back to the present. “Do you kids copy?”
It took everything in Peter to keep his lip from quivering. He nearly forgot to answer with how clouded his thoughts were. Cradling you carefully in his arms, he adjusted his grip to fumble over the earpiece. “We need a medic!!” Peter exclaimed, taking in as deep of a breath as he could muster, “Y/N’s unresponsive–”
You laid cold in Peter’s shaky grasp, not moving other than the shuttered lifting and easing of your shoulders with your breath. You were still alive, and Peter tried to cling to that as much as he could. He’d lost too many people. He couldn’t bear to lose you, too.
“Don’t freak out. And don’t touch her wound.” Tony sounded extra stern, which was how he typically expressed panic. It felt like a personal jab at Peter, but he knew better than to interpret it so malicely. “Bruce has your location and is on his way now.”
Peter could barely process the sentence, but all that registered was that help was on the way. He pulled the mask off his face before pulling yours off as well. Vision blurry, he could still make out the cuts that managed to scrape your cheeks.
He pressed his lips to your hairline, holding you gently in his arms. Your skin was cold against his touch, and he treated you as delicately as he could. He knew you weren’t dead, but knowing that you got hurt and he could’ve done something to stop it, he blamed himself. And he didn’t know what else to do besides rock you back and forth while the tears spilt from his eyes.
Footsteps approached behind him, but Peter was too focused on counting your breaths to shift his focus onto them. He kept hold of you, only moving his stare from your tattered face when someone shadowed over the two of you.
Natasha met Peter’s stare for a moment before crouching down to examine your injuries. Her lips pressed into a small line, tensing at how much blood you were losing.
“Do you know what happened?” She broke through the silence — At least, what would’ve been silence if not for Peter’s choked sobs.
He exhaled, shaking his head. “She was– She was keeping watch while I.. While I fought off the–”
Rushed footsteps through the rubble of the warehouse cut Peter off as he and Natasha looked over, Bruce and Steve running in.
Peter felt Natasha snake her arms under you, lifting you out of his grasp with ease. He felt himself panic at your absence.
“W–Wait!” He cried, more intensely than he intended.
The three looked at him, curious at his urgency. They watched as he stood up, finally wiping the tears from his eyes. “I don’t want to, uh- to leave her..”
A small, sympathetic smile touched Bruce’s lips as he nodded. “You don’t have to, but we gotta hurry back to the quinjet.” He started, taking steps back the way he came from, “I don’t have the supplies to treat her right now.”
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“Has he eaten today?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Bruce replied solemnly, “I’m starting to worry about him, Nat.”
As you began to come to, faint murmurs grasped at your attention.
“He’s barely left this room since we got back yesterday. We’re lucky he’s stretching his legs to go find her some blankets.” You recognized Bruce’s voice instantly, though you kept your eyes shut as your consciousness collected itself. “I’ve never seen him so distraught.”
“Y’know..” Natasha spoke up, “He slept here last night.”
You felt your heart break and skip a beat at her words.
There was a pause. “I–I know. He was asleep beside her when I came in this morning.” Bruce mentioned.
You blinked your eyes open, quick to regret it when you were greeted by an overwhelmingly bright light.
“I can feel it, Banner.” Nat chimed, “They’re smitten.” There was a faint song to her words. “I think I caught him kissing her cheek before he left.”
It warmed your spirit to hear how affectionate Peter had been, but you could barely remember what happened, let alone why he’d be so distraught.
Bruce chuckled quietly, “I’m sure Tony will be thrilled to hear that.”
Once your eyes adjusted, you realized you were in the medical wing. Did you hit your head or something? Slowly, you sat up, freezing when the realization hit you.
Your hand flew to your lower stomach, hissing in pain at the wound by your hip. “Jesus.. Fuck!” You muttered, seething through gritted teeth. The pain was quick to shoot through every nerve in your body.
Before you could lay back down, you met eyes with an all too familiar pair as they entered the doorframe.
Peter lit up when he saw you up, rushing over. “You’re awake!” He beamed, quick to set the blankets down at the foot of the bed before he kissed you. He kissed your lips, then your cheeks a few times, then your nose, before pressing a sickly sweet kiss to your lips once more.
His hands cradled your jaw before he pulled back from the kiss, moving his hands to better support you as you laid back down.
“Baby, don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” He started, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Peter–”
“God, you scared me so bad.. I thought–” He cut himself off as he rambled, quick to shut down the dreadful thought. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up again–”
“Peter–!”
“I should’ve been more careful.. Fuck, I’m so sorry I let that happen to you–”
You gently cupped his face, “Peter!” You spoke a bit more urgently, which seemed to catch his attention. He simply stared at you while you glanced over his right shoulder about four times.
His face flushed red, turning back to meet Natasha and Bruce’s dumbfounded expressions.
They blinked at one another, each unsure of where to start.
Natasha broke the silence, pressing herself off the wall she was leaning on with a small smirk. “I’m gonna go tell Steve that he owes me twenty–bucks.”
Peter opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. He watched Bruce glance at the door Natasha walked out and back at Peter, “I’ll, uh.. Give you two some privacy.”
And then there were two.
His hands slid down his face as you contained your laughter, though it was hard not to. Watching your boyfriend’s face turn red was one of your few guilty pleasures.
“You couldn’t have warned me sooner?” Peter asked as he turned to you, muffling his words under the hands that covered his face. You weren’t sure how long you were out, but you knew you missed seeing how cute he was.
You missed seeing him.
You shrugged, “I tried to.” Despite the secret being out, you couldn’t care less. A small laugh spilled from your lips at how embarrassed Peter was, but it was cut off by how painful it was.
Peter sat on the bed beside you, grabbing your hand. “Easy, now.. It’s still pretty fresh.” He hushed, brushing some of your hair out of your face. His affectionate actions made your heart swell.
While the two of you stared at each other, you couldn’t help but see the solemn look that lingered in his eyes.
You brought the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his up to cup his cheek, gentle as you caressed the new purple creases under his eyes. “Peter..” You started, “I’m safe now. This wasn’t your fault either, okay?”
He looked like he was about to protest, but you were quick to him. “It’s not your fault.” You repeated. You hoped by saying it again, it would stick in his head better.
His stare flickered from one eye to the other before he sighed, defeated as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You smiled up at him, pecking his lips once or twice. “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me than some shattered window.”
He laughed quietly, his breath fanning over your lips before he whispered, “God.. I love you.”
“I love you too..” You trailed off as he leaned forward to kiss you again. No matter how long you and Peter had been dating, you never failed to feel butterflies in your stomach when he’d kiss you. It made you feel like you were the only two people on the planet.
“I fucking knew it!” Of course, you weren’t the only two people in the world. You heard someone speak from the doorframe, noticing how Peter immediately added three feet of space between the two of you.
Tony Stark looked between both of you, pointing at your connected handhold on the hospital bed in victory. He had the smuggest smirk you’d ever seen touch his face at the sight of you.
His grin made him look like he’d won the fifth–grade spelling bee. You would’ve never thought that you and Peter’s relationship would make such a grown man so happy.
“I’m going to go tell Steve he owes me twenty–bucks!”
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