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#now let’s do it again but against a wall this time
gutsby · 1 day
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Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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joelsgreys · 5 hours
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flutter
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist
summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?
word count: 3.5k
a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.
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“Shit.”
You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?
Over the last few months, there’d been changes.
Some subtle and some not so subtle.
“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”
She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.
“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”
During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.
“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”
You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.
One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.
Not until now.
“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”
“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”
“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”
Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.
It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.
“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.
Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.
After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.
He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.
You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.
Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”
“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”
One stern glare from her had shut you right up.
“Fine.”
Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.
You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.
With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.
“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”
“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”
“You’re bigger!”
With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”
She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.
“You look different. I mean, you look great—”
“Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Just shut up and eat.”
“Deal.”
She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 
“You get your fractions homework done?”
“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”
Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”
“Sure.”
As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.
“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.
“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”
“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.
Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”
Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”
“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”
“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”
“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”
Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.
Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.
And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.
In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.
You bite back a small sigh.
By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.
“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”
“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”
You hear a chair scrape against the tile.
“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”
“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.
Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.
He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 
The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.
Uncomfortable.
Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.
“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”
“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 
He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”
You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”
Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.
“Mhm,” is all he says.
Your smile falters.
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It’s the middle of August.
The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.
“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”
He’s met with silence.
Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”
Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”
“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”
Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.
“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”
Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”
“Huh?”
“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”
Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”
“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”
“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 
“What are you afraid of?”
Joel almost laughs.
He doesn’t know where to start.
He’s afraid of everything.
“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”
“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”
“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”
“Joel—”
“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”
Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”
“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.
“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”
He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”
“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”
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Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 
“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.
“What does it fucking look like, man?”
“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”
Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.
“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”
Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.
He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.
He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.
He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.
Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.
Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.
He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.
The man you both needed.
Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?
He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.
“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”
“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.
Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Until the minutes turn into hours.
Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 
Until he finally feels that little flutter again.
He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.
He’d just felt the baby’s movement.
There’s a sudden shift.
Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.
His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.
Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.
With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.
Maybe his brother’s right.
Maybe he will be just fine.
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divider credit to @saradika 🤍
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badbtssmut · 12 hours
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Your boyfriend looks a little too good in his police uniform.
Contains: Jungkook is a cop, fucking while wearing his uniform, reader is handcuffed, bit of squirting, Jungkook telling reader not to cum yet, kinda roleplay-ish, pussy fucking from behind, missionary
“Yeah, like that? That what you want? Tell officer Jeon how much you like it.” You moan as he pounds into you, the metal of his handcuffs digging into your skin. “Pussy taking in all this cock so well, so fucking wet.” Your boyfriend cooed, gripping onto your wrists tighter as he sped up his hips.
He was still dressed in full uniform, the heavy weight of his utility belt pressed against your ass, his shirt still tucked in and his hardened cock poking between the gap of his undone pants, and you, laid bare before him.
“Yes, like that…” You dug your face into the mattress, frowning as you focused on taking in his size, feeling every vein and inch of his cock slide against your walls.
“Is that all? Don't make me repeat myself again. How much do you like it when I fuck you like this, slut? How much do you like your pussy used like the toy that it is? Hm?” Jungkook pressed, slowing down his movement before he stopped, keeping his cock tucked inside of you, waiting for your reply.
“Jungkook…” You whimpered, trying to move your hips back to feel the same pleasure as before, but he stopped you. His hands moved from your wrists to your waist, holding you in place. You could hear him laugh softly, amused at your frustration.
“Jungkook…” You started again, whining his name.
“Jeon for you.” He corrected you. You were surprised, not expecting him to keep up the roleplay, even with his cock buried in you.
You were too horny to fight, and just wanted him to keep going, so you obliged.
“Mr Jeon, I love it when you fuck me, feels so good, never wanna stop… Just keep going, please, fuck me and use me.” You whined, moving your head back, trying to get a look at his face.
He smirked, before leaning in closer and giving you a kiss. You kissed him back before he pulled away and resumed his rhythm, the sound of his belt and his thighs smacking against your skin filled the room, and you started to breath faster, before moans left your lips.
“Mm yes, right there…” You moaned, closing your eyes, letting the sensation of him hitting your spot wash over you.
“Yeah? Right there? That’s your spot, here?” He teased, hitting the same place.
You nodded quickly, unable to speak.
Jungkook then pulled out, before he flipped you over and got between your legs, entering you again. He leaned over you and caged you in, his arms on both side of your head, as he began to thrust.
Your arms were trapped between the bed and your back, and you were at his mercy, as he fucked you, making sure his cock rubbed against your g-spot every time. Your moans made him aware that he was hitting you in the right spot, and his cock twitched in response.
The bed creaked loudly, and his heavy breathing filled your ears. He looked down at your body, admiring the way your chest rose and fell with each thrust, and your eyes rolling back every now and then, and it pushed him closer.
Jungkook sat up, still moving his hips back and forth as he unbuttoned his jacket, pulling it off and dropping it next to him.
He then took the shirt off, exposing his sweaty torso, and he leaned down again, his hands now grabbing your bare chest.
Your tits bounced with each thrust, and you moaned louder, wrapping your legs around him, encouraging him to go deeper.
“Fuck.” Jungkook cussed, kneading your chest and rolling your nipples in between his fingers, causing you to whimper.
“Close…” You whined, feeling yourself near your climax.
“No, not yet, baby. Wait for me, yeah? Can you do that for me?” Jungkook whispered, now caressing your face. “Please baby? Need you five more minutes, can you? Please, wanna cum together, wanna cum with your pussy hugging my cock, need you to hold it a bit longer.” He nearly begged.
“Jeon, if you keep talking like that, I’ll…” You tried to tell him, but he silenced you with a kiss, moving his hips a bit faster.
It was torture, his pace was just enough to keep you on the edge, but not enough to send you over. You closed your eyes, focusing on his cock and his tongue slipping into your mouth.
Your feet kicked into the sheets, trying to hold it, but you couldn’t.
Jungkook could tell you were near your limit, and he sat up, raising your hips and pounding into you harder, chasing his own release. You whimpered, being at his mercy as he lifted your lower body and mercilessly pounded into you, him adjusting himself to fuck you into a higher angle made you nearly cry, as you could feel yourself coming closer and closer.
Finally, he released his load into you, moaning out your name and riding out his high, and you soon followed, squirting onto his cock and soaking the sheets.
“Mm..” He shuddered, keeping his cock in you and leaning in to kiss you.
“Baby…” You whimpered. “They hurt.” You reminded him.
Jungkook immediately reached down and took the handcuffs off, throwing them off the bed, and brought your wrists to his lips, kissing them.
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luvfy0dor · 2 days
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“Rise and Shine, Sweetheart ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚
╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky
warnings; probably a little ooc
description; morning routines with select BSD men
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A/n; I'm tired of these hoes omfg but anyways req break cause I think I've done 2 in a row now ^^ 3 more to go! Some of them are kinda harder to write out, but I'll give it my best, even if in the end I have to put them into short headcannons.
Dazai Osamu ★
Dazais morning routine consists of clinging onto your arm, trying to coax you back into a couple more blissful minutes in bed before you go off to work while he makes his decision on whether he's gonna go at all. Needless to say, you're the first one up, but he usually follows soon after, going to the bathroom to shower some mornings and emerging with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist while he rewraps his bandages. Sometimes he even asks for your help if you don't seem like you're running short on time, and he loves it when you assist him. He'll usually sit on the bed while you stand between his knees with the roll of cloth being passed back and forth between your left and right hands until you cover his arm. When he doesn't have you help him re-mumify himself, he'll find something for you to do for him. If he chooses to wear a tie, you're the one tying it. He likes when you hold his coat out for him to put on just so he can shrug it on and turn around to kiss you. His hand goes to cusp your cheek familiarly as he hums against your lips and lets his eyes flutter shut.
“Have a good day, y/n! I'll see you tonight, yeah? Don't take too long getting home, I was thinking we could do takeout and movie night! Maybe this time we'll even pay attention to the screen instead of each other the whole time, hehe.”
Chuuya Nakahara ★
Most mornings, Chuuya wakes up first. Sometimes he'll step onto the balcony to smoke a cigarette before you wake up from the disappearance of his warmth and watch the sunrise. It reminds him of you. When he's done with his cigarette, he'll come back inside and either scooch back onto the bed or lean over you to kiss your forehead and wake you up. He'll shake your shoulder gently and call out your name with his messy ginger hair pointing in all different directions. He'll smile down at you when your eyes peek open and place a kiss on your lips, greeting you and rubbing your arm lovingly. Other mornings, ones on the rare occasion that he had off, he would snooze in bed with you for as long as possible. You'd both cook something for breakfast, far from just grabbing a banana or pop tart like you would before work. Afterwards, he'd head to the shower, which you're always welcome to join, and afterwards brush his teeth and hair.
“Hey...time to wake up, y/n. I'm not comin' in here to get ya again, so you gotta get up the first time. No, no five more minutes- I gotta leave soon, so get up before I gotta leave without a goodbye kiss cuz you're still snoozing.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky ★
Fyodor is often up before you are, whether he slept last night or not you don't know, but you certainly don't mind when moments after you open your eyes he's gotten you some tea or coffee. He's great to be woken up by, because he's making sure you're up. He'll come back into the bedroom every two minutes if he needs to, calling out your name from the doorway and warning you that you're going to be late. While you're getting up and ready, he busies himself with reading and peering out the window at the sunrise. When you're finished, he'll kiss you goodbye at the door, his cold hand lingering on your waist as you turn to open the door. After you're gone, he dresses himself in his worn in white button down and pants, topping his outfit off with his boots, cape, and ushanka. He'll look around at the photos hanging on the wall of the two of you and smile to himself, swinging the door opening and leaving as well.
"Ah, good morning Myshka. I see you're finally awake, it only took me waking you up 6 times. I've brought you tea, but you've got to drink it quickly or else you'll hardly have time to get ready for yourself."
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A/n; I cry a lot but I am so productive!!! It's an art!! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠`⁠)⁠。⁠*゚⁠+
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rafesfavgirl · 1 day
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two graves, one gun — r. cameron
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sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')
❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞
pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl
the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.
8:30 p.m.
your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.
pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.
straight to voicemail. fuck.
you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.
you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.
"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.
you: where are you???
when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.
you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.
"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.
"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"
"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.
"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."
he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."
"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"
barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"
"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"
you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.
"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"
"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.
"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."
thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."
"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"
you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"
"rafe-"
"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"
"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"
"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"
"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"
he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.
"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."
the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.
"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.
you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."
"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"
"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"
"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"
you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."
rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.
"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."
"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."
"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.
"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."
not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"
"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."
letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"
"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.
"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."
"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.
"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."
the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.
"what?"
"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."
tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."
"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.
"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.
"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."
"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"
"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."
you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”
rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.
you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.
"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."
his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.
part 2 coming soon!!
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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miinatozakiii · 2 days
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but i’ll love you better, if you let me
son chaeyoung x fem!reader ; angst, smut
synopsis: “you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.”
wc: 7.4k
warnings: smut; thigh riding; jealousy ; cheating!! ; readers a meanie lowk; men mentioned ; smoking; cursing; alcohol; lalala whatever else i missed ; not proofread
a/n: happy late chae day!!! ALSO i don't condone cheating… HOWEVER.
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chaeyoung watches you closely, a cigarette perched between your lips as a subtle smirk dances across your features in response to the news.
“boyfriend?” you scoff, almost as if it’s a joke to you. “right.”
furrowing her brows, she looks at you, almost offended.
“what’s with the tone?”
"nothing, nothing...," you mumble, your eyes drilling into hers with intensity. she shrinks under your gaze, just as she always does when you give her that look. you light the end of your cigarette, inhaling shallowly before exhaling a small cloud of smoke.
chaeyoung crosses her arms. “i’m serious.”
“yeah?” you say teasingly, smiling like she’s an idiot. “does this boyfriend have a name?”
“haesol.”
“right.”
she’s a little frustrated at the tone of your voice, plus the little look you give her. the way you pay no mind to this new information – your eyes squinting and the look of incredulity you give her – brushing it off as some stupid, laughable lie ticks a nerve in her.
you inhale deeper, then sigh out the smoke slowly.
“alright, new topic,” you suggest, handing her the cigarette, which she rejects by pushing your wrist away, to your surprise.
“why are you acting like this is some stupid joke? don’t you care?”
yes, you did care. the notion of chaeyoung being involved with a man earned a visceral reaction from you, a combination of disbelief, frustration, and disappointment. the idea honestly seemed preposterous, even laughable, but your reaction had no sign of amusement. if anything, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, worse than any cheap hangover remedy. 
“i do care.”
offering the cigarette to her again, you raise both brows expectantly as you urge her to take it. she reluctantly accepts it from in between your fingers, then holds it to her lips.
you continue, looking away from her now and towards the street, “i just don’t want some guy taking so much of your time, time we could be using to hang out. besides, i don’t know him, you never even mentioned the guy.”
as the anger subsides, chaeyoung's features soften, her expression shifting to one of understanding. in the gentle glow of the setting sun, she’s a little cuter when she looks at you like that, her usual appeal heightened by the softening light.
you glance at her and smirk before looking back at the ground, leaning against the wall of the building behind you. 
the two of you have developed a reputation for being nearly inseparable. whether it's in class or during free time, the two of you are almost always together. chaeyoung was in two of your classes, and not the tedious prerequisite classes offered, the ones that people willingly chose based on their interests: music theory and art history.
you noticed her from first glance, taking note of the pretty girl in your two classes. she was striking; tattoos littered her skin, her unconventional style, and sick piercings. yeah, definitely your type of person, she was bound to lure you. however, you didn’t chase, so instead of actively pursuing her, you opted for more subtle approaches. you'd steal glances in her direction, flash a smile whenever your eyes met, or create chance encounters like accidental bumps or brushed hands, all of which served as silent invitations for her to make the first move.
from the moment you shared your first cigarette in the streets at night – outside your now favorite bar as a way to escape the rest of your classmates – a strong connection formed. 
chaeyoung hands you the cigarette back; you inhale deeply again, letting the smoke fill your lungs.
“if he’s uglier than you i won’t accept it.” you mutter, knowing you won’t because there’s no one more striking than her. 
“people are more than just looks you know.”
“that only applies to women.”  you grin. “now, let’s go get dinner. i’m hungry.”
she rolls her eyes at you and playfully pushes your shoulder before swiping the cigarette from your fingers. you chuckle at her reaction, then tilt your head, silently urging her to walk with you to a nearby restaurant down the street.
-
you shouldn’t have gone out with san and wooyoung, especially not on a thursday night because now it’s friday morning and you can still feel the hangover.
you wait on a bench at the little park on campus, the ache in your head still present even after your first class, despite gulping down a bottle of water and two advil tablets prior to it. 
chaeyoung asked to meet there, talking about some “surprise” she had. 
after waiting five minutes you finally feel your phone buzz in your hand, seeing the notification pop up on the top of the screen.
[11:28pm]
chaeyoung: i’m here
chaeyoung: to your left
you turn your head, noticing your best friend walking alongside a taller man, their hands interlocked. your stomach churns at the sight – you almost throw up in your mouth. taking a deep breath, you rise from your seat and make your way over to them, meeting them in the middle of the sidewalk.
chaeyoung had told you about him two weeks ago, even mentioning him here and there but you didn’t think you’d actually meet him, not now.
he wears a small – clearly forced – half-smile, one that you have the urge to wipe off his face. his hair is a messy, platinum blonde, with roots starting to show. a loose-fitting black tee drapes over his frame, paired with dark, baggy jeans. he’s also taller than you, maybe two or three inches taller, but not crazy tall. he's not the worst-looking guy, but you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.
“people are than just looks you know,” her words repeat in your head – you try to consider them.
“haesol, this is y/n. she’s my closest friend.” she says, then looks at you with sparkles in her eyes. “y/n, this is haesol, my boyfriend.”
“boyfriend, right.” you respond, tone acidic.
“you’re the best friend?”
the best friend? yeah, you’re not really fond of the way he said that. but to be fair, your tone wasn’t as nice either.
“yeah.” you force a friendlier expression after glancing over at chaeyoung, smiling at haesol now. “it’s nice to meet you.”
“same here.” 
it’s undeniably awkward, with chaeyoung by his side and your unpreparedness to face – well, him. you can’t help but glance at their locked hands, immediately looking away after it had disgusted you enough.
chaeyoung clears her throat before saying, “um, y/n, i was just wondering if you would like to get lunch with us? the two of you can get to know each other.”
a little sigh leaves your lips because really, you don’t want to know him any more than you do. but lunch with chaeyoung is something you can never pass up, especially when she’s looking at you all hopeful and shooting a little pout.
“i’m down, yeah.”
“great.” she says, “perfect.”
you and haesol make eye contact again before chaeyoung pulls him away, expecting you to follow.
-
to keep it brief, lunch was alright. it was rather quiet, unlike your usual conversations with chaeyoung, which are filled with laughter and tend to be more lively. with him there, you felt somewhat out of place, finding his stupid looks at chaeyoung irritating and the constant touchiness made you lose most your appetite.
when haesol was distracted by his phone or momentarily left the conversation, you found it easier to simply talk to chaeyoung. however, as soon as he looked back at her, you would fall silent again. 
you found his demeanor too blunt and his tendency to boast about himself irritating. his lack of attention to chaeyoung while she was speaking, instead focusing on his phone, only added to your irritation, making you scrunch your brows and send judgy looks.
“y/n, why don’t you tell him about yourself?” chaeyoung says to break the random moment of silence as you all eat. 
you blink, swallowing the rice you had been eating. “oh, like what?”
haesol seemed more focused on the food in front of him, paying little attention to the conversation. chaeyoung, on the other hand, noticed the lack of information being shared about you, which confused her. to her, you were the most interesting person in the room.
“haesol, you know y/n is in a band?”
you ‘re quick to cut her off, “it’s just a gig, not that serious. just… extra money.” you widen your eyes at her, tightening your jaw to send a little message. 
“oh, that’s cool i guess.” he says, shrugging at you. 
“she plays guitar and sings–”
“it’s just a side thing.” you say sternly. 
haesol doesn’t notice the look you give chaeyoung, too unbothered by your presence as a whole. you give him a little look before crossing your arms.
“haesol,” you begin.
he finishes chewing and swallows before humming a “ hm?”
“what do you like about my best friend?”
he pauses, thinking to himself (you would’ve answered without hesitation).
“she’s cute and every time i talk to her she listens and laughs you know. she’s hot.”
“right.” you mumble, then look over to chaeyoung, who’s smiling like an idiot. “okay.”
his phone – which had been set on the table for once – started to ring. you eye him as he picks it up, answering with a snarky tone that you hate; the urge to punch him in the face eats you up, but you manage to hold back.
you can’t do this, he’s not any of the few men you tolerate, everything about him pisses you off. you’re going to burst any moment and it’s better to let the fire die down.
“i should get going.” you suddenly speak, not caring that he’s listening to someone through the phone. “i have things to do. sorry chaeng.”
“you haven’t finished your food.” she says, furrowing her brows.
you shrug. “not hungry anymore. you two have fun.”
chaeyoung doesn’t get another word in, you’re already up and ready to go by the time she opens her mouth. haesol doesn’t bat an eye, letting you leave without questioning it.
-
from then on, whenever you and chaeyoung meet alone or with friends, the mere mention of haesol makes you feel a sense of discomfort bordering on nausea. you find yourself growing slightly distant, just enough to create a subtle but noticeable shift in your interactions, especially when haesol is brought up and acknowledged. 
so chaeyoung stops mentioning him, completely disregarding him whenever you’re near because at the end of day she just wants what you two have to be normal. at the end of the day she craves any attention you give her rather than haesol.
and things get more normal from there on out, as long as he’s not involved.
but it still lingers in her mind, you and haesol, you. 
(that’s really complicated to think about, so chaeyoung doesn’t really think on it that much.
but she really should consider why you plague her mind a little more than haesol.
a lot more.)
you look down at your notes, spinning the pencil in between your fingers. “the free response ones, they’re worth more points than the multiple choices, sixty percent. i think we have to apply abstract expressionism to pieces and the text, and then there’s some romanticism that we have to use. it should be relatively simple if you just bullshit it with the examples given but–”
you look up again, chaeyoungs eyes drill into your whole being. 
“what?’
she frowns. “you don’t like haesol, do you?”
“we need to study for the exam chaeng.” you grumble, followed by a sigh.
“you’re avoiding my question.”
sitting back in your seat, you look at her, frustrated. then you drop your pencil down on your notes, cursing under your breath.
“i don’t like your boyfriend, there, happy?”
“why?”
“he pisses me off.”
“did he do something to you?”
“did he need to? do i need a reason? i don’t want to waste my time talking about a man or thinking of one. can we just study?” your voice raises a bit, you’re clearly annoyed; chaeyoung decides to let it go, letting you continue on with what you were saying. “anyways, i think chapter 16 and 17 are what we need to focus on.”
chaeyoung stiffens in her seat. “yeah, okay. i have notes for that.”
“great.”
the atmosphere in the study room becomes heavy, almost suffocating for both of you. even worse is when you both sit in silence, poring over notes, the only audible sounds being the scratch of your pencil against paper as you jot down key terms, and the rhythmic tapping of chaeyoung's foot against the ground. the tension hangs thick in the air, palpable yet unspoken.
you look up again, sighing.
honestly, you feel bad (not really, it’s haesol you’re talking about. but chaeyoung? yeah, you can’t bear to see a frown on that pretty face of hers), but you can’t control how you feel about her boyfriend. about her. 
chaeyoung’s been a little crush, well, maybe little isn’t the right word. you’ve never done anything about it because there wasn’t a need to, it wasn’t clawing at you. not until now at least. 
she’s been available, single, yet you never even thought of asking her out or anything, just small advances and subtle hints to something. 
cigarettes shared in more places than you can count on one hand, letting her hold onto your waist as you drove her home on that motorcycle of yours, carrying her over to someplace safe while she’s batshit drunk, and even lending yourself to her when she needed someone to literally lean on. you let her sprawl all over you, despite hating physical touches from anyone else. 
wasn’t that enough? how dense did she have to be? or really, the question was: were your advances really enough?
and now? god, she has a whole boyfriend, it fucking kills you. the mere thought of him being in her life makes it all miserable, you can’t look at that beautiful face of hers or interact with her normally without that weird feeling in your heart, the feeling hurts you, eats you up inside. it’s all because of her boyfriend, the fact that you can’t have her, even though she deserves you instead of him.
the last thing you want is the feeling of your chest being split into two, so you avoid the thought of haesol as a whole.
(it seems to be failing, considering how often you think of chaeyoung, then of him, and now your whole heart feels like it’s being pounded by a hammer 24/7.)
you break the silence, looking up from the notes chaeyoung had passed to you. parting your lips, you don’t speak, instead, pondering, thinking of what to say. 
as you look at chaeyoung, you can't help but notice the subtle changes in her appearance. her hair is a little shorter than before, framing her face in a new way. but it's the nervous way she rubs at the tattoos on her hands that catches your attention. those tattoos, the ones that litter her hand, are familiar to you, more familiar than you'd care to admit. you’ve thought about them in too many ways, some ways you’re a little too embarrassed to admit.
“did you get a haircut?” you ask, raising a brow.
chaeyoung looks at you in surprise, the tension already sizzling down as the conversation starts. “yeah, just a little off the ends, some touch up’s on the layers.
you pause, then reach to run your hands through her hair.
“it’s cute, i like it.”
chaeyoung smiles, finding herself blushing at the sudden compliment. “thank you.”
“hey, after this, let’s grab something to eat?” she laughs, smiling at how anticipated you are. “of course.”
“let’s head over to shin’s–her bibimbap is good, cheap, and the best i’ve had.”
“okay, okay.” she snickers, grinning. “you pay.”
“yeah yeah, whatever.”
it’s these little moments that saw at the growing tension between you two, surely but slowly. 
and then the two of you laugh in between note taking again, it’s easy to ignore the elephant in the room considering how you two are; oblivious, pining a little more than both of you would like to admit, and too conflicted to even consider confrontation or communication.
as the two of you laugh in between note-taking, it's easy to fall back into the comfortable rhythm of your friendship. you both choose to ignore the elephant in the room considering how you two are—oblivious to the deeper undercurrents, secretly pining for each other more than either of you would care to admit, and too conflicted to even breach the topic of confrontation or communication. so you laugh, you joke, and you carry on, pretending that everything is just as it should be, even when it's far from it.
-
haesol turns his head. “something on your mind baby?”
gross, chaeyoung furrows her brows at the petname, weirdly enough. 
his arm is around her, hand resting on her shoulder and her head rested on his bicep. they’re watching a movie, chaeyoung blinks, responding lowly, “oh, no.”
“seems like it.” haesol says, but doesn’t pry.
you’d pry, you’d do something to make her confess her worries. haesol simply pushes her closer into him, eyes on the screen of the tv.
chaeyoung wants to push aside the strange pounding of her heart whenever she's around you. she wishes she could stop catching herself checking you out, feeling every unfamiliar flutter and pang in her heart. it's all so foreign to her, and it makes her uneasy. she doesn't like the uncertainty, the conflicted feelings swirling inside her chest, the questions without answers, everything that has to do with you. 
sometimes she even wonders what it would be like if you were in haesol’s place, like right now, watching this movie with her, with your arm under her head instead of his. maybe if she was next to you, then maybe her evening wouldn’t feel like such a waste right now.
“i think,” chaeyoung starts, “i think im going to go to sleep. i don’t feel well.”
“what? seriously?” haesol asks, there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone. “um, feel better, drink water or something. i’ll be in bed later.”
chaeyoung forces a smile, pursing her lips a little tighter than she’d like, then walks over to his room, flopping on his bed.
she checks her phone, a text from you pops up.
10:53pm
you: wyd
a small smile forms on chaeyoung’s lips.
chaeng: about to sleep
you: at ten–almost eleven, on a saturday?
you: something up?
chaeng: just not feeling it
you: are you sick? haesol is with you right? is he taking care of you?
her brows furrow; this is the first time you’ve mentioned his name. sure, it was through text, but you acknowledged him. she tucks herself into the blanket and stares at the text before responding.
chaeyoung: we were watching a movie and i felt a little tired, just went back to the room to lay down
you: right
you: you better pick up, im calling
she reads your text, and not even five seconds later feels her phone ring, looking at the contact photo of you in some stupid hat in one of those photobooth pictures, as well as your name pop up in bold on her screen. she presses the green icon, bringing the phone to her ear lazily.
“what’s up?” you ask. she hears a bit of noise in the back, it sounds like you’re at some bar, maybe outside of it, probably with some of your other friends who have a higher tolerance than her. 
“y/n, i’m just tired.”
“right.” you say calmly, she hears the faint sound of you inhaling, then a small exhale. “and that boyfriend of yours isn't taking care of you?”
“we were just watching a movie and i don’t know, i just felt… uneasy.”
“he’s giving you migraines.”
“it doesn’t work like that.”
“thinking of how easy it is to dismiss how you are, the thought of him gives me one.” you admit, “if he weren’t so dense then he’d be with you right now–who finishes a movie by themself? who lets their girlfriend feel sick–alone?”
chaeyoung groans. “why do you care so much about him now? you’re always acting like he doesn’t exist and god– are you, are you drunk?”
“no.” voice firm and stern. 
you lean against the balcony in the outside area of the bar, sighing; you’re a liar, and most definitely drunk. how could you not be after soyeon had coaxed you into those shots? on her tab too.
“why are you sulking.” you question, your voice not so far from a mumble.
"i'm not," chaeyoung is also a liar, she is sulking, her body limp against the mattress as she lays on the bed. she's still processing the events leading up to the movie: her and haesol had made out, one thing leading to another which led to them fucking–and not for the first time, maybe the fifth or sixth time, she can’t remember any of it since it was all so… anticlimactic. she's left feeling a pit in her stomach, even worse than the one after their first night of intimacy.
you can hear the bullshit in her voice, the alcohol takes over your senses and you say, “i’ll be over at the park–you know which one. be there.”
“y/n, what? wait–”
“i‘m not letting you sulk alone, stupid.”
“haesol’s going to–”
“i don’t care.” you spit, “when did i ever?”
you sit at one of the benches, a water bottle in your hand while you try to sober up. to be fair, you’re not off the walls drunk – you can still walk fine, function really well, and honestly, you’re basically fine – but drunk enough to say something a little too bold for your liking. 
the moon is up, pretty full considering it’s the end of the month. it shines down on you, down on your tired features and bothered self because of this whole new problem chaeyoung brought as soon as haesol appeared: an unsure heart.
never were you the type of person to go crazy over some crush, you never let it ruin you, but now, it’s doing just that. 
chaeyoung approaches you, catching the way your hair flows down behind you, a glimpse of your crewneck, and then you turn to the side little as if youve sensed her from behind; chaeyoung looks at you, mesmerized. 
there’s something to be said about your appearance, it’s no wonder you’ve caught many eyes, and especially now, under this glow– and maybe it’s the feeling of seeing someone, you, who doesn’t make chaeyoung uneasy – you look effortlessly wonderful, even if it’s just your side profile facing her.
you turn, smiling like you’ve just seen the rarest star after you catch chaeyoung in your line of vision.
(she’s brighter than a star, much brighter.)
turning back to stare at the lamppost in front of you, chaeyoung sits down, you feel her presence and sense her in your peripheral. then you feel yourself blush, taking in everything in front of you; you smile like an idiot, and idiot head over heels. 
“you are drunk.” chaeyoung says, “liar.”
“you lied first. it’s 1-1.” she crosses her arms, leaning away from you–she’s mad, or at least annoyed–you frown. “hey, what’s up?”
“y/n, you piss me off sometimes you know?”
“what? did i do something?”
she scoffs, looking at you in disbelief. 
“i thought we were best friends, you know? and i could tell you anything, i can tell you anything, i have told you anything. but lately? it’s like, i have to continuously avoid potholes just to keep you from being all pissy.”
you sit up, furrowing your brows in offense. “excuse me?”
“y/n don’t fucking give me that.” she says, tears welling up in her eyes. you stay put, backing down a bit and start to listen. “all i’ve wanted to do is talk about haesol, and you aren’t even willing to do that; you’re the only person i feel like i can talk to about him. and these things? they all bother me, but as soon as i open my mouth and you guess that it’s haesol? you fucking back down.”
“chaeyoung i–”
“do you know how hard it is? the one person i want to talk to and won’t even listen.” she turns away from you, letting her eyes fall to the concrete. “you’re the one person i can turn to, and honestly–it’s embarrassing to admit–but i’ve grown so attached to you, i mean, even when i’m with him; all i think about is you.”
your brain is still foggy, maybe that’s why you’re getting so emotional. the thought of you pushing her away, all because of a man–it’s selfish, so incredibly selfish the more you look on it. 
“i’m sorry.” is all you can utter, looking at her with sympathy and guilt etched on your features. “i’m sorry.”
“you should be.” she’s silent after that, still looking down at the ground while you study her every move and emotion.
she feels a shoulder graze her, then an arm extended behind her back. you push her a little close into you, just enough to make her feel better.
“i’m sorry for dragging you out here and… ignoring everything. i’ve just been really conflicted and i’d really love to tell you why, but i just… can’t.” you confess, looking down at your shoes. “you can tell me anything, always. i never want you to feel like you can’t.”
she turns her head, looking at your face illuminated by the glow of the night and the streetlamp. 
“i hate that you make it so hard to be mad at you.”
“be mad at me, it’s what i deserve.”
“i’ve tried.”
you smile, it’s a little uncertain, but it’s something to clear the air momentarily.
“what’s been going on with haesol?” you pry, it hurts to ask, but for the sake of chaeyoung; you pry.
“god y/n, there’s so much.”
“like?”
she looks at you, then around the park. it hits her that her surroundings are… not her most ideal environment to tell you about haesol, her sex life, and everything that’s been upside down; she doesn’t know where to start.
you read her mind – you always do, somehow – and pause her right where she is.
“maybe we should go to my place, i should be sobered up by then. i hope.
-
the two of you make it to your place, chaeyoung had called a cab because who knows how bad you could get. still, you’re pretty manageable, especially only a few shots. you’ve sobered up completely by the time you reached your place, finding your keys and letting both of you in.
chaeyoung catches a whiff of bourbon, cashmere, vanilla, and amber, with hints of the signature cigarette smell laced within. she makes her way to the little sliding door leading to the small balcony—the same one the two of you always go to when it's late, when you're both tired, and when there's a lot to say. it's a space filled with unspoken words and shared moments, where only each phase of the moon has heard everything you two have to say.
chaeyoung watches you trudge along and lean against the balcony next to her when you arrive. you shuffle through the pocket of your jeans for a box of cigarettes, and she notices that it's half empty. you take one out, then fish for your lighter with a floral design on it. bringing the flame up to the end of the cigarette trapped between your lips, you light it—a routine that chaeyoung could never quite get used to. and honestly, the way you handle the cigarette is hotter than it should be.
smoke leaves your mouth in small increments as you ask, “so, you and haesol?”
“oh, yeah.” chaeyoung says, almost distracted by the way you stare out into space. “we’ve, well…”
“what’s the biggest problem on your mind right now, we can start with that.”
“we– well–” and chaeyoung thinks to herself, thinking of the moments prior to being near haesol and watching that movie, ane even their first night of intimacy. she thinks of how he touched her and how it wasn’t as striking as it should’ve been, how long he lasted – which, wow, was not long – and honestly just how he pleased himself more than her. “we fucked.”
the cigarette almost slips from in between your fingers. “wait, what?”
“we’ve fucked a couple of times, i just, it wasn’t all that.”
“jesus, you’ve been through hell.” you joke lightheartedly, which earns a giggle from chaeyoung.
she takes the cigarette from you, then draws deeply from the cigarette. “it wasn’t too bad, like, i didn’t mind but, it was really–”
“disappointing? men are like that.”
“you and men.” chaeyoung scoffs, inhaling again.
“i’m serious, and being sexually frustrated is serious too.” and then you eye her–dangerously. chaeyoung tries to ignore the way you looked at her, it lasted a second but there was definitely something on your mind. she holds the cigarette to your lips, you move your head forward to catch it in between your lips, inhaling as you fix your crewneck. “you deserve better.”
“he’ll get better.” she says it almost like a manifestation, something she’ll write down on paper and put under her pillow so she’ll finally cum without instructing too much.
“you shouldn’t have to wait for someone to fuck you right.” you begin, and maybe you haven’t sobered up, because then, she widens her eyes after you say, “bet i could make you feel good.”
the world seems to come to a standstill, you lean against the balcony, your tricep resting on the metal railing, fingers holding the half-smoked cigarette as you cradle your face in the same hand. your gaze meets hers with an intensity that suggests you've just posed a question— and honestly, chaeyoung might have sulked to such a point that she's seriously considering it. that small, mischievous smile playing on your lips might just be enough to sway her decision.
“that’s cheating, i–”
“you don’t have to.” turning your head to teh side and puffing. “it was a suggestion.”
maybe chaeyoung is desperate (she most definitely is), because wow, that smirk is growing into a cocky ass grin that shows your teeth and the prominent canines and–
“are you drunk or are you serious?” chaeyoung asks you, looking you dead in the eye. 
eyeing her from the side, you respond, “you want it to be serious?”
she gulps. “no strings attached?”
“none have to be, friends with benefits is a thing, chaeyoung.”
she gulps again. “okay, yeah, sure.”
you smile, then smush the cigarette into the ashtray down on the small stool you have out, then tilt your head to urge her inside.
she follows you to the couch, sliding the door behind her before you sit down on the couch, watching her hesitantly follow. she stands in front of you and you eye her like she’s your prey.
she doesn’t question how your moral compass is fucked, especially after you’ve suggested this, knowing she’s with haesol. but she doesn’t think of whatever your morals and rights or wrongs are after she catches you unzipping your fly, sliding the little metal button out from the slit and–
you’re sliding down your jeans – baggy and a dark navy – they land at your ankle before you retreat back into a lounged position on the cushions. her eyes follow the jeans as they scrunch up at your ankles, then trail up your surprisingly toned legs, and then stop at the calvin klein underwear you have on.
you rub your hand on your thigh, sliding it down to your knee and making eye contact with her.
“c’mere.” you pat down on your skin. “you've been complaining about him and i just... wanna make you feel good for once. that alright? i kind of owe it to you for being so shitty.”
chaeyoungs breath hitches involuntarily as she looks down at you, her morals trying to win her over but god is that difficult to do when you’re so–
you’re sliding off your crewneck, it reveals a tanktop under, and of course, the various tattoos littered on your upper arms and shoulders. she bites her lip subtly.
yeah, there’s no going back on this one.
chaeyoung gives in because c’mon, this is a fantasy that’s been in the back of her mind, and her cunt is screaming louder than ever than when she’s been with haesol. honestly, her pussy whispers when she’s with him, and now it’s yelling–more than ever just seeing you sitting there on your couch, legs slightly parted as you eye her.
there’s a pretentious smirk trying to tug at your lips, but you fight against it and clench your jaw. 
she lets out a long breath before moving over to settle herself down on your thigh, the contact makes her shiver.
"there we go," you whisper softly, drinking in the sight before you. your fingertips dance along the curves of her ribs, hidden beneath the fabric of her cropped, white shirt. her breath stumbles as she tries to focus on you, or anything in the moment, really. "you’re so pretty, you know?”
instinctively, she ruts her hips against you, a soft breath escaping her lips. her skirt allows easy access, easily pushed aside to let her soaked panties glide against your skin. the fabric covering her folds adds to the tantalizing allure, fueling the urge to tease her further.
no foreplay has made chaeyoung feel this desperate for stimulus on her cunt, no one has made her feel this hot and heavy. you haven’t even undressed her yet and she’s already leaving a trail of arousal on your thigh like that. 
chaeyoung slides off the jacket she has on – haesol’s denim jacket that he gave her two days before – and throws it carelessly on the floor, not minding where it lands or what happens to it. the main event is you, all attention is on you. 
the guilt that should've been sitting in her stomach, stabbing her through the heart and holding her down went out the window as soon as your fingers landed on the edge of her skirt – but there was none of that, not when you started to tease your fingers along her skin. 
“how about this too?” you suggest, tugging at the fabric of her skirt, a sly smile gracing your lips. “tell me… you want it off?”
“yes,” she says immediately, almost like a breath. “please, fuck, yeah take it off.”
“how eager.” you snicker.
her skirt is off now, leaving her in soaked underwear and that t-shirt of hers. she’s slipping back onto your thigh, your special seat for her now. honestly, from the way she looks and feels–sounds… yeah, this spot might have to be reserved for her and only her.
the smirk on your face is smug as your eye her hips, placing both hands on them and slowly grinding her on your skin. chaeyoung, who’s not used to this extent of pleasure, moans immediately, biting her lip in embarrassment to suppress anything else that manages to slip out.
you can’t help but laugh under your breath, amused by how pleased she is. you kind of feel bad – if she feels this good from just grinding, how bad is that dick of her boyfriend’s? you pity the girl, so as her best friend, you have to give her what she’s missing.
she’s moving her hips on her own now, scooting up closer to you so she can plant her hands on your shoulders, making it easier to fuck herself on your skin. your groans are low, almost airy here and there while you watch, occasionally helping her out by pressing up against her. 
you can tell she’s doing everything she can to hide the sounds she’s making, desperately biting back moans that you want to hear. you’re not going to let her stay quiet, not when she sounds so pretty all because of you. all for you.
sliding your hand up, you press your thumb on her bottom lip, allowing her plea’s to be heard as you forcefully part her lips, your grip on her jaw almost deathly.
“f-fuck y/n, w-wait.”
the grip on your shoulder tightens, making you groan yourself. she looks down at where her clad cunt meets your skin again, scrunching her brows hard as she desperately ruts against you. 
her voice swells the more she rubs against you, the sounds coming out her mouth reverberating like a symphony building to its crescendo. aggressively, you grab her hips again, shifting her down roughly against your thigh. she throws her head back, mouth widening as a loud, shaky moan escapes. then, like a symphony's final movement, everything harmonizes. 
the sound of your name being cried out when she cums resonates, lingering in our ears, a perfect harmony that captivates you, making you smile. she throws her head down on your shoulder, muttering your name over and over while her hands desperately claw against your shoulder, tricep, skin – against anything.
she’s still moving against you, but slower now, trying to ease herself back down from cumming for the first time in a while. even when she did cum that one time from haesol, it has never left her as shaken up or satiated as this.
your hands stabilize her by the hips as she pulls away, her face inches away from yours. you manage to get a glimpse of her underwear – completely wet, like a tidal wave had crashed against it – smile to yourself, pleased.
“how was that?” you ask, “seemed good.” your voice is low, speaking from the throat as you soften your tone.
“s-shut, “ she starts, then presses her lips against yours, making you hum surprisingly. “up.”
it feels right, so fucking right despite how morally wrong it is. 
she’s basically on your hip now, mindlessly grinding in your lap as she kisses you. it’s slow, sensual, and so goddamn intimate considering this is the first time you’ve done anything remotely… romantic? anything that really crossed the line of “friendship.”
then you’re sliding your tongue against the space in between her lips, earning access to her mouth as you slide your tongue in, exploring her like she’s some eighth wonder of the world. she moans into the kiss, it’s muffled, but it’s great. more than great–amazing.. you kiss and kiss like there’s no tomorrow, fighting for air by the time your lips’ part. and now it’s your time to admire your mess: tangled dark hair framing chaeyoung’s face, her puffy lips and flushed cheeks, and those lidded eyes. 
your lips move to her neck, making her grip at you as soon as you make contact with her skin again. you’re like a fucking drug to her, she’s getting high just from this small dose of you and she might just get addicted after knowing how the high is. this might just be worse than her smoking habits, but if it’s you? she doesn’t give a fuck.
“y/n, fuck wait,” chaeyoung sighs, getting up to slider her underwear off and throwing it to the side. “again, please.”  
you laugh, more than happy to comply. “of course, as much as you want.”
the rest of the night is filled with chaeyoung’s moans, your soft voice coaxing her as she stimulates herself, and the last thing on either of your minds is haesol, because that’s a worry for later.
she cums again a few minutes later – surprisingly fast, but just as good, and you’re not judging her either way. poor girl. she goes a little limp after that, resting against you, still in your lap, and letting her head settle on your shoulder while you rub her back.
“you gonna stay the night?” you ask her, feeling her breath against your neck. “because you can.”
chaeyoung pauses, she doesn’t answer. 
she pulls away from you, then gazes at your face. you look back at her, not really expecting anything, just looking at her. chaeyoung breathes out, then places a hand on your neck before she kisses you.
she whispers against your lips, “i’ll think about it.” 
the next morning chaeyoung is still on your couch, a blanket trapped between her legs while most of it is on the floor. the scent of coffee being brewed fills the air. 
she rises from the couch, running her hands over her face with a sigh before tending to her tousled hair. she’s not wearing anything, she’s completely bare. as she turns, she notices your back turned to her, engrossed in pouring a cup of coffee. you’re only wearing a sports bra on top and low-rise jeans lazily wrap around your waist, revealing your underwear.
 the sound of your yawn reaches her ears, and then you turn around with a cup in your hands, holding it to your lips. you both make eye contact.
the silencing squeezes you two, squishing your skin and almost breaking your bones. chaeyoung looks away first.
“you’re awake.” 
she’s not looking at you, instead looking around for the shirt you’d taken off before making her cum the second time around, finding it on the edge of the couch.
“yeah.” chaeyoung responds quietly, “i have to go.”
there it is, you expected this, but it still disappoints you a little, even if you assured that it was “no strings attached.”
“do you need a ride?”
“i can text haesol.”
your jaw tenses. 
she has a boyfriend, right, haesol. chaeyoung has a boyfriend who seems more attached to his phone than to her, failing to truly listen to her. he overlooks the qualities that you find captivating, a boyfriend who... well, is just a man. you try to convince yourself that you've forgotten, but deep down, you know you never really did. if anything, knowing that you can, scratch that, you did make her feel better than her boyfriend boosts your ego, even if just a little. 
you should feel guilty, like you’ve just committed a terrible crime and someone is waiting outside with handcuffs ready to put you behind bars but– you don’t feel any of that, honest to god you dont give a fuck about that. you made chaeyoung feel good, great, fucked her with your thigh, and honestly that’s enough to completely push guilt out your body.
she’s fully dressed again after putting on the jacket that was across the living room on the floor. she looks walks over to you, stealing a quick glance to the tattoo on your ribs and the little one above your waist.
"i can’t believe i did this," she mumbles quietly to herself. then, she looks up at you, gulping. “we need to keep this a secret, okay?”
“i know, i figured.” you respond bitterly, even though it was you who started it in the first place. “so what's next? you're still going to go back to him? are we just going to fuck and forget?"
chaeyoung winces, feeling the pang of regret and uncertainty. 
she’s undoubtedly whipped, she can’t go back to haesol like everything’s fine. she didn’t answer his texts, his calls–anything. and despite how negligent he is–and also the fact that he’ll never make her feel the same way as you did – chaeyoung wants to go back to him, he’s her boyfriend after all. she already left him last night with no explanation, the least she can do is go back. but everything in her heart and head is telling her to stay here with you.
“i just… need time to think about it, y/n.”
you narrow your eyes at her as you sip on your coffee. “right.”
chaeyoung approaches you, frustration etched on her face. your demeanor is elusive, she hates how difficult you are to read. it’s hard to decipher whether you're angry, disappointed, or both. as you search for your phone, turning back around, she feels her shoulders sag with disappointment, her steps heavy as she reluctantly heads towards the door.
“i really thought you’d finally open your eyes, but i guess i was wrong.” you finally say, hearing a pause of silence before you hear the door open. 
a few seconds pass before you hear it close. chaeyoung’s gone.
216 notes · View notes
keerysfreckles · 2 days
Note
lando not being able to be with reader!bestfriend during her birthday because its right after a race weekend and hes got media commitments. so when he gets back he surprises her by throwing her a second birthday party for just the two of them and she just gets all mushy and sappy and all she wants to do is hug him all night -🍒anon
happier — LN4
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
warnings: just a bit rushed :/
a/n: i. love. lando. so. bad.
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
y/n knew how much dedication it took to be in formula one. she knew when kando signed his first contract with mclaren that his schedule would be packed week to week. so the girl felt selfish for wanting her best friend to be home for her birthday.
she called him that morning, unsure of the time since he was almost always in a different time zone than her.
"i'll try and be there next week, i promise," he rushed out before hanging up.
y/n let her day go on normally, but her mind would often wander to the curly headed brunette. three of her closest friends surprised her with a birthday dinner, insusting that no one should be alone on their birthday.
they got her a miniature cake, with two bright pink candles, and there were probably a hundred different pictures of y/n wearing the hot pink birthday tiara somewhere in one of her friend's phone.
once again, as she and her friends were enjoying the cake, she couldn't help but want lando there beside her.
she hugged her friends goodbye, and started cleaning up. she threw paper plates, wrapping paper and confetti away.
y/n sighed, while placing the ridiculous birthday tiara down on her living room table. she was aware of it being a busy weekend for lando, considering he was in singapore for a race. so calling him was out of the question.
she debated on texting him, asking how the weekend was going, but refrained.
the birthday girl turned off her living room light, before humming the birthday tune her friends sang to her moments ago, as she made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom.
the next morning, y/n was woken up by her front door closing (quite loudly she might add). at seven in the morning, she wasn't sure if her brain was comprehending anything. so she wasn't sure if it was real, or just her mind playing tricks.
she chose the ladder as she rolled over to face the opposite way.
four and a half minutes later she heard the door open and close again.
not a coincidence, she thought. certainly a burglar wouldn't close the door so loudly, so y/n threw her blanket off before opening her bedroom door. she was met with an empty hallway, only provoking her curiosity.
her sock covered feet tred through the hallway, not entirely sure what she'd meet on the other end.
she turned the corner carefully, and her eyes widened at the scene in front of her.
lando norris was in front of her. there was a decently wrapped present in his hands, and the same birthday tiara from last night still on the table. she looked around the room, noticing the few streamers taped to the walls.
"lando!" she can't help but laugh in shock.
"happy birthday y/n!" lando holds his arms open, after filling her apartment with the sound of an obnoxious party blower.
"what are you doing here?" she asks while running into his arms.
he's quick to hold her against him, spinning her in two circles. "i hoped on the first flight i could as soon as the last media conference was done," he spoke into her neck, his smile never leaving his face.
after a few minutes — yes a few minutes, y/n did not want to let go of the brit — the pair now sat on the couch. lando handed the gift to the day-late birthday girl before putting the pink tiara on her head.
y/n laughed as she peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing two new pieces of mclaren merchandise to add to her collection.
"of course," she laughs again, holding up the shirt with lando's number on the back.
the other item in the box is a light pink mclaren hat. y/n simply puts it on her best friend's head, with him adjusting it as soon as her hands leave the material.
"thank you lan," y/n's eyes are filled with adoration as she looks at the boy in front of her.
"i could never miss your birthday," his warm smile appears on his face once more.
"technically you were a day late," y/n jokes.
"i'm here now aren't i?" lando playfully states. y/n leans forward to press a kiss on his cheek, a motion both have grown accustomed to over the years.
315 notes · View notes
Text
Summer Heat
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Summary: You run into your ex Taehyung at a bar and go home with him just to keep hanging out. But perhaps Taehyung wants more. And so do you.
Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader
Genre: exes au, exes to lovers, fluff, smut. 
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, dialogue heavy, communication, fingering, mention of oral, unprotected sex.
Notes: An exes to lovers Taehyung drabble request!!!! sorry it took so long...hope you enjoy anon! (and whoever else hehe)
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“Why did we break up?”
Did he ask that? Or did you? You aren’t sure who asked that. You just know that it’s been asked by one of you. The question floats in the air, the words growing bigger until they pop next to your ear. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably when the words echo a little, and finally, you realize it sounds a lot like your voice. You gulp.
“You don’t know?” Taehyung leans against the door frame, wood creaking before his arms cross over his chest. “If you don’t know then I definitely don’t know.” He suddenly smiles.
You’re wondering how you two ended up in his guest bedroom at his house. How you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel neatly folded in your lap as you wait for Taehyung to leave the room so you can shower. You glance at the dresser where his clothes lay on top, ready for you to borrow. Wearing his clothes is… 
“Sorry.” You look down, “I shouldn’t have asked honestly.”
“Why not?” His voice is teasing.
You look up again, “Because we spent the whole night talking about how the past is the past and I don’t know, it just felt nice to hang out. I don’t want to ruin any,” You motion your hands in the space between you, “Like…vibe we got going on.”
Taehyung laughs, his back relaxing more against the wall. “It has been fun, right? Who would have thought I’d run into you tonight.” 
“I can’t believe its six in the morning.” You glance towards the window, a dark blue sky beginning to light up. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”
“I’m the one who insisted we stay up.” Taehyung stretches his neck, a small smile still on his face. “We had, what was it? 5? 6 years to catch up on?” 
“Something like that.” You smile back, shrugging a little. “Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have to work.”
Taehyung gazes at you, the softness in his eyes hard to miss. “I think I would have stayed up no matter the day of the week.”
Your stomach tightens, “Oh yeah?”
“So why did we break up?”
He asks this time. The question now echoing in his voice.
“I don’t know really.” You answer, “We weren’t ready?”
Taehyung separates his back from the door frame, his legs taking him to the end of the bed where he sits next to you. “We were young?”
“And not ready.” You emphasize this time. “Right person, wrong time.”
“So are you going to let me know when it’s the right time?” Taehyung asks you, his voice quieter as he looks ahead. ��Because who knows, maybe it’s still right person.” His eyes slide towards you, curiosity sitting in them. 
You can’t help but quietly gasp to yourself, his curious eyes sharpening the more he gazes at you. You’ve been wondering all night. You’ve been wondering if there’s still something between you, especially because something electric has been bringing you closer the past few hours. But you didn’t know if it was your imagination. 
Taehyung’s gaze drops down to your hand that rests against the mattress. His eyes trail up your bare arm and it feels as if his fingertips are grazing your skin. 
“You think we’re still a good match?” You breathe out your words, your eyes falling to Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Or do your interests only lie in getting laid tonight?”
Taehyung’s eyes grow round, shocked at first before he chuckles, “Can it be both?”
You bite back another smile. “Maybe.”
It’s been five and half years since you and Taehyung called things off—well, since you called things off. In your eyes, it really was right person, wrong time. You aren’t sure if Taehyung agreed at that time because you didn’t really give him the chance to. That still stings a little. Probably more for him than you but seeing how lighthearted he’s been all night, you guess he’s over it.
Are you over it?
You kind of have to be.
“I remember you being a really good kisser.” Taehyung’s fingers crawl over to yours, his skin warm as he subtly touches you. 
You bite down onto your bottom lip, another smile forming. “So this is about getting laid tonight.”
“Not at all. But maybe a part of it.” Taehyung taps his fingers before weaving them through yours. Then he pulls back. “But if you don’t want to do anything…”
“Who said that?” You find his dark eyes, “I might just be teasing you.”
“You’ve always loved teasing me.”
“Maybe I still do?”
“So, some things haven’t changed.” He teases back, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if some things were still the same. There’s some things I’m hoping are very different though.”
“Like what?” You can’t help but ask, your hand sliding closer to his again. 
“One, I hope you stopped being such a picky eater. And two, you let me have an opinion about us.”
You feel that sting. It shouldn’t be you who feels it but you do. “Us?”
“Yeah.” He hums, his fingers suddenly between yours again. He leans closer to you, “I want to decide things too.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” Taehyung naturally grows closer to you, his body suddenly pushing up against your side when he leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder. “If I should be in your life or not.”
You slowly close your eyes when you feel his warm breath before he places a kiss on your shoulder. Then another. And another.
He continues, “Last time, you decided without me. This time I want a say.” Another kiss.
You feel your stomach turn upside down, his lips confusing you while his words make you feel guilty. 
“Taehyung.” You say his name, your voice uncontrollably insecure. “Are we talking about this now?”
Another kiss. “No.”
You open your eyes, your back straightening when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. It feels good and familiar. Yet you aren’t sure how to react.
“Is it crazy to say I’ve missed you?” Taehyung sighs out, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thought about you so much in these last few years.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Your stomach flops again, but this time you feel intrigued. “What did you miss? Me? Or my lips? My mouth? My—”
“—Can’t I say everything?” Taehyung lifts himself, his eyes urging you to look at him. He stays close. “I missed your overthinking too, believe it or not.”
Your lips curl at the thought, his teasing working. “Oh yeah?”
“But I missed your hugs the most. When we hugged earlier…I swear I wanted to give you me right then and there.”
“Your vodka sodas make you chatty, don’t they?”
“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, “You aren’t used to it, right?”
“Considering you didn’t drink when I knew you, no. But it was fun drinking with you tonight.”
“You got kind of chatty too.” Taehyung decides to create space between you both, his body suddenly laying back on the bed. “Never been in love with anyone else since me?” He sounds proud. “Feels like that should have taken longer to admit—”
You hit his thigh with your fist, embarrassment hot on your neck. “Shut up, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Also, it’s the truth and I can’t change it.” 
You’re turned to eye him, but you quickly look away before laying down yourself. You keep your hands together, resting on top of your stomach.
“I’m not sure I’ve really been in love either. Maybe. Maybe not.” Taehyung tells you. “I’ve definitely thought about you over the years though.”
“Like what?”
“Your mouth—”
You hit his thigh again.
He laughs this time, “Okay, okay. Like for example, I saw someone eating skittles a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. How you eat them all except the purple ones.”
“I still don’t eat the purple ones.”
“Great.” Taehyung huffs out dramatically, “You’re still picky.” He turns his head towards you and you do the same, meeting his eyes. Your stomach flops again when he smirks at you. “Somehow I missed that, too.”
“Liar,” You can’t help but laugh. “You—”
“We still click, you know?” Taehyung cuts you off, his gaze sharp again. “I’d like to hang out again. But not as friends or anything…as…I don’t know,” He turns his head, eyes on the ceiling while he smiles sheepishly. “I want to see if we can make this work. Possibly.”
“Vodka sodas make you so loose-lipped.”
“Thank God, too. I’m saying all the things I want to say so I’m thankful for it.”
“Well….” You turn your body towards him, lifting yourself on you elbow, “What else do you want to say?”
“You’re very pretty. And I want to kiss you.” Taehyung mirrors his body to yours. He looks confident as usual but you see the nerves in his eyes. “I’m not kissing anyone else at the moment, if you’re worried about that.”
“I wasn’t.” You weren’t. 
Taehyung has never been known for being a player, or messing with more than one girl at a time. If he’s showing interest in you then you know you’re the only one.
“I’ve been single for like 8 months already.” He tells you, “So I’m clean, too.” 
“I…yeah, it’s been a little while for me too.” You glance towards the open door, “But also, you sound real hopeful this is going to go in your favor.”
“Please.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Catching up has been nice but there’s more going on here, right?”
He’s right.
“No.” 
“Now you’re the liar,” Taehyung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But like I said, we don’t have to do anything. But I still want to see you again.”
You’re both sat up on your elbows, the distance small between you before you decide to be brave.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask.
Taehyung blinks at you for a moment, his dark eyes surprised. 
“Just a kiss.” You assure him, your lips curling into a smirk. “One kiss.”
Taehyung holds his breath, seconds that feel like minutes pass. A small laugh finally leaves his mouth and his eyes fall to the bed. “Why am I suddenly nervous?” He admits. “As if I forgot how to kiss.”
“You were so confident earlier?” You tease him but you were positive you saw the nerves in his eyes and you were right. 
“I think the vodka sodas helped and they’ve worn off at this exact moment.”
“How convenient.”
“It really is, isn’t it?” 
You stare at Taehyung, his eyes going from yours to the mattress every few seconds before the strap of your tank top slides off your shoulder and his eyes glue to that extra inch of skin. It was a hot summer night, and a white tank top with some shorts is all the night called for.
You didn’t think you would run into Taehyung at a bar neither of you have been to. A night out with a couple of friends that happily ditched you to catch up with your ex. 
“Why did we break up for real, y/n?” Taehyung’s eyes are back on yours. “I know but sometimes I doubt and question it.” 
“Still?” 
“You expect me not to?” He laughs a little but his voice is now the one that sounds uncontrollably insecure. “I was in love with you for so many years of my life. You were my best friend…”
You feel a sharp poke in your heart. 
“I know.” You decide to sit up, your body slumping over a little. “I’m sorry.”
And you are. You’ve wanted to apologize for years. 
“I know you’ve been sorry since the day we broke up.” Taehyung sits up too, his side pushed up against yours. Suddenly space isn’t necessary. “Don’t feel bad. I just want to hear you confirm your reason.”
You glance at Taehyung, eyes studying him. “I got scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“That I didn’t know myself yet. That it would have been better if we were older…more mature. I should have just talked to you. But I thought you’d agree. I just…” You stop, ripping your eyes away from him. “Wanted to make it easier for both of us at that time.”
“Okay.” Taehyung nods to himself. “It wasn’t because you stopped loving me?”
“No.” You don’t find the courage to look at him yet. “I still loved you.”
Taehyung bumps into your shoulder with his and you hear the lightness in his voice again. “We’re older? More mature? You think we could look at one another the way we did before?”
You straighten your back again. “You really want to try this again?”
“I really want to kiss you at the least.” He sounds teasing once more. “But yeah, I’d love to continue getting to know you and see where this might lead.”
“I offered to kiss you already but you chickened out.” You bump into his shoulder now. 
“I know.” He laughs, “But turns out I did want to have the conversation now. Kind of want to kiss you even more now because of it.”
“Then kiss me now, if you want.”
You’re older now. More mature now.
Yet you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, towel still folded in your lap, eyes on the floor and nerves surrounding you both.
Taehyung’s breath leaves his mouth in a warm puff and you feel it glide over your bare thighs. His nerves make you brave. You grasp the towel in your hands before placing it next to you and you turn your head towards the man you used to love. 
He mirrors you, eyes still unsure. 
“You’re cute.” You murmur. “And—”
Taehyung leans in closer, his eyes stuck on your lips. “It’s okay, right?”
You nod.
The warm breath you felt on your thighs now lingers over your lips. It makes you stop breathing.
He comes closer, his hand softly landing on your lower back, fingers slowly digging into your tank top as he grows closer and finally, you feel the skin of his lips touch yours in a kiss that becomes firmer the longer he stays. His kiss is so familiar that it will haunt you later. 
Taehyung detaches for only a moment, catching his breath before he leans in again more confidently and you finally give him a response. Your lips slowly moving over his as you kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest. So familiar. His tongue pokes out and you open your mouth just the slightest to grant his wish. You taste him now, and it’s also hauntingly familiar.
You feel your lower belly swirling and swirling, a tension growing between your legs and it makes you ache. You wish a few kisses didn’t make you this desperate already but when Taehyung feels your fingers slide up into his hair, he knows you desire more. 
His tongue explores more freely and you moan into his mouth, the sound quiet and soft but it creates a stirring in Taehyung’s pants. He can feel himself grow harder. So, he kisses you harder. 
You break away for a moment, lips wet and tingly. “You have a condom?”
“Already?” He asks, breathless. “Let me at least eat you out first.”
“I haven’t showered yet.” Your eyes slide to the side, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“I don’t care.” 
“I care.”
His hands go to your shorts, fingers fiddling with the button. “Fingers?”
You think about it for a second, thighs squeezing together at the idea. “Okay.”
And his fingers are quick to undo the button on your shorts, and he pulls down the zipper. You quickly wiggle out of them, kicking them off of you, while they land somewhere on the floor.
“Cute underwear.” He tickles the skin above the band with his fingers, before they slide lower and you gasp. He begins rubbing them over where you ache. Your panties grow damper and damper, making it easy for him to move your underwear to the side, and his fingers dive into your wetness. 
“Ah, Taehyung…” You become tense. Teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I—”
His fingers swirl over your clit, making you sigh out in content. They play here before he uses his middle finger to dive where you really want him. Finger massaging your entrance, before he adds another. Entering you, making you immediately relax once the moment you’ve been anticipating is over. He works to stretch you out, his eyes focused on yours, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches how you start to fall into a daze.
His fingers feel so good. They’re long and reaching the right places. He curls them, making you whine, head falling to his shoulder and he chuckles.
“Feel good?” He whispers, fingers working harder and all you hear is how they fuck into you.
You nod against his shoulder, a breathy laugh leaving your lips. 
“I want you…” You admit, “Now.”
His fingers stop moving, his head suddenly nodding quickly and he slides them out. “Yeah.”
Taehyung brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them proudly and you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. He wanted your familiar flavor. So, it can haunt him later too. 
You stand, eyes on him as you take your tank top off. He stands too, helping you take off your bra and his eyes are glued to your chest, clouding over with lust. You reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps you take it off his body. Shorts and boxers are next. You stare at his cock, the head of it throbbing and you feel your mouth water. Another time, you tell yourself. 
You finally slip off your underwear and you stand here, gazing at one another and you both become dizzy. 
“You’re so beautiful.” He tells you, hands reaching for your hips and he guides you to the bed again, laying you down. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”
“Me too.” You tell him, breathless and heated. 
Taehyung crawls over your body and you feel how he moves his cock to enter you, moving slowly until he’s snug between your legs. You both sigh. Your walls tightening around him. He feels so good. And so familiar. He pushes himself further into you, your legs wrapping around his waist until you gasp to yourself, eyes shutting in contentment. 
“You feel…” You can’t finish your sentence.
“Yeah.” He agrees, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. He repeats this motion a few, slow times. Letting his cock get soaked and pulled into your sweet core. He can’t remember the last time he felt this entranced. Maybe it was with you. 
He starts fucking into you, the repeated motions are smooth and calculated. He’s trying his best to fuck you at the angle that is going to make you whimper. And he finally finds it. He moans into your neck, his hot breath making your skin moist. He starts kissing your throat. 
You feel yourself growing tighter and tighter the more he firmly pushes in. You’re going to cum. 
Taehyung starts thrusting faster, his kisses growing sloppy and he forces himself to slow down, his body trembling above yours. Oh, he’s really close.
“You’re so pretty…” He moans, his thrusts getting harder. “I fucking missed you, your pussy…everything.”
“Taehyung…” You wrap your arms around him, nails clawing at his back. “Fuck, just like that…I’ll cum.”
“Yeah. I know.” He smirks against your neck before he lifts his head and locks eyes with you. “Let’s cum together, y/n. Fuck,” His pace grows faster and you feel your insides crumble. He feels too good. 
“I’m gonna—” You choke on air when he thrusts particularly hard, pushing into you so deep it makes your stomach tighten. He fucks you so deep you wonder how you could go without this any longer. 
“y/n.” He chants your name, head falling into your neck again, whining against your skin and that’s all it takes for the band inside you to snap. You feel warmth gushing around his cock, dribbling out of you as you cum all around him and his hips thrust forward a few more times before he releases every drop of cum he can offer inside you. 
Your body becomes limp, legs falling from his waist as you catch your breath, silently laughing as the euphoria continues to overtake you. Taehyung laughs too, breathing heavily above you, his eyes shining with happiness. You can’t miss it. 
“We forgot the condom.” He tells you.
“I know.” You bite your lip, hiding another smile. You aren’t worried since you’re on birth control. “Maybe you can shower with me?”
He leans down to kiss you, smile all over his face. “Okay, and then I’m eating you out.”
238 notes · View notes
grugruel · 17 hours
Text
Say it Again
Pairings: Cooper Howard x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
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Summary: For a long time, there'd been a quiet, reciding fondness between you and your companion. And when you finally journey back to your old vault, feelings are stirred from the depths and brought to the surface.
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: (mentions of blood, violence, death), angst, pinv sex, passionate sex, strong feelings, "I love you", pet names (darlin', sweetheart, honey), hair pulling (squint and you'll miss it), overstimulation, creampie, praise (both recieving).
AN: Not yet proofread! Let me know what yall think about the music inserts. I figured since its such a big part of the fallout universe, I might aswell ad it in a fic too! Enjoy yall!!
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The vault was open. . . It took my mind a few moments to wrap around the idea.
The thought of it being perpetually shut was so hard-wired into my being that I would've thought the gaping door a hallucination had it not been for my own departure a few months prior.
And I knew- I knew it ment nothing good. But perhaps they'd all left–alive, wandering the wasteland in search of better luck–a better life.
♪ Yes, pretending that I'm doing well
A familiar melody rang faint, barely reaching through the howling wind as it sang up a storm of scorching sand, whipping and tearing at my clothes.
In abivalence, I made my way toward the facade. Eyes examining the number 33 written in a bold, weathered font on the hefty external door.
A pang of guilt hit me–maybe I shouldn't have left, maybe I could've prevented whatever happened here. With the inhale of a calming breath, I stepped up to the construction, running the flat of my palm along the beaten but familar metal.
Then, without so much as a single thought of caution, I stepped over the threshold. The safety of a vault- my vault, was too fresh in my mind. That allong with the trust I placed in the hands of my shadow, suspecting his vigilance to be enough for the both of us.
Tracing the cool, grand archway with my fingertips as I entered, feeling the wear of oxidisation on its surface. Such a small detail I'd never payed any mind to before. How aged it was, yet still standing strong. A reminder of its resilience- of its impenetrable metal, planned to withstand outside threats for hundreds of years. And now, there it stood–wide open. The derision of the situation nagged me terribly.
♪ I'm lonely but no one can tell
When no longer veiled by the wind, the song sang clearly, its notes reverberating throughout the metal in a forboding fashion. Setting off a feeling of unease in the pit of my stumache.
While I stood familiarising myself again, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me, observing me. Monitoring my grief-struck and conflict ridden mind with a commiserating gaze. Their constant and reassuring prescence hovering behind me in semblance of a specter, keeping a respectful distance as my mind worked through what might have transpired while I was away.
♪ Oh yes, I'm the great pretender
The volume grew stronger as we made our way inside, my feet moving with slight hesitation as they clanged along the grated flooring.
♪ Adrift in a world of my own ♪
Stepping on the elevator, I steadied myself against the railing, feeling it vibrate beneath my hands with the frequency of the music. Those sweet well-known tunes only growing more and more eerie as we descended, accompanied by that strange constant hum from the bedrock, from the quiet. A white noise that only lived in vast open constructions such as this. Inhabiting the walls, the floor, and open spaces made from metal and stone.
A shiver ran down my spine, I'd never liked the quiet, despite the volume of the music, the quiet resounded. It'd always made to much noise in my mind.
♪ You've seen and you've left me to dream all alone
But when the doors opened to the floor below, a reassuring hand placed itself on the small of my back, amicably giving me a final push when I'd stood too long hesitating.
And it helped, it really did. The eclipsing stillness of the vault and the distorting of the music softened, fading and returning to that of good times–when they'd still existed.
♪ Too real is this feeling of make-believe
But the possibilities of what I might find ahead launched a gruesome assault on my mind. I tried distracting myself–thud, thud, thud. Our dull steps tapped against the floor. A pair of spurs clicking along with the steady rythm, leather groaning. Turns out I could only hear him, and I prefered it that way.
♪ Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal
It was a better focus then the constant searching for bloodsplatter and unmoving bodies, splayed out on the floor or tucked into a corner, seeking shelter, protection–spurs, leather-
I snapped back, the lyrics echoing in my mind and bouncing of the walls simultaneously, resonating throughout the empty halls as I jumped off of that dark train of thought before it could spiral further. The hands scrunched the fabric of my clothes, silently checking on me, attempting to refocus my mind. On the music, on him, anything was better.
♪ Yes, I'm the great pretender
I followed the words, thinking of the ones before and those to come. I still remember the list of songs. They'd played during weddings and social gatherings. We had them in our houses. I remember dancing in the kitchen, with swaying to the music with those I love. It was one of those moments which you knew you'd remeber forever, which would become a core part of you. Always to be looked back on, and sure enough.
I could't help myself from smiling, such fond memories. In my peripheral, his eyes softened. Still keeping his vigilant watch over my well-being, returning my smile with no intention of ever telling me, unkowing that I had indeed noticed him as he did so.
♪ Yes, just laughing and gay like a clown
But now, as I wandered the abandoned halls of the vault, they were only a tragic reminder of a time gone by–yet, I could see no bodies, no evidence of a fight or struggle–relief flooded through me. However, I still didn't dare make my way down to the compost section, I'd walked that path to many times on my last day here.
♪ I seem to be, what I'm not, you see
The hand angainst my back brushed my clothed skin with a thumb, circling a vertebra, moving to squeeze my arm as it then fell back to his side. The loss of his touch was dissapointing, but the closeness of his body made up for it.
We took a turn, away from the chance of decaying bodies and toward the fields of crop. I wanted to see it one last time, remember that last wedding–the good times, before I left and the place had become this, before it was reduced to a graveyard of memories.
♪ And I'm wearing my heart like a crown
I found my eyes wandering as we walked, constantly sliding to the man beside me. An aching arose in my heart, the two of us could've been something real sweet. Something true, something strong. If only we had the freedom of chance and opportunity. But as it were, we simply coexist, solely striving to survive in a world swallowed up by nuclear waste and feral brutality. I don't know what I would've done without him, it was a long road for us to grow this close–we didn't get along too well when we first met.
♪ Oh yes, I'm pretending and praying that you're still around
The music tunes out, fading into quiet nothing, like dust particles leaving rays of light–simply seizing to exist. I felt the comparison too familiar for my liking, turns out anything is just a methapor for something else.
After waiting patiently and biding it's time, that strange hum takes up again. Making me wish he'd hold me steady, a d let the drumming of his heart be the only thing I hear. A wish that frequented my mind a lot as of late.
It's interesting how much you learn about yourself and the world when leaving the safety of your vault. The most ironic thing–radiation, and the fact that its the least to be worried about on the surface, the real danger being what dwells in the midst of it. Creatures–beasts, savages and monsters. The rad mutated animals are nothing compared to the barabarians that the human species have become, I really had no idea what stripping someone of their basic needs and a guaranteed future could do to a person before I entered the wasteland. And now, I cant help but marvel at the fact that only a few have resorted to eating eachother and worshipping radiation.
Dog-eat-dog is an old expression that comes to mind. Apparently it was used way before all of this befell us, and I can't help but imagine how bad we could've been back then to create such a phrase in a law-abiding society. But they were the poeple to destroy the world and we to rebuild it, so perhaps its not that strange after all.
Either way, I don't remember it personally. I wasn't alive back then, but it was told to me by someone who was.
The next song started up, the sorrowful tune keeping the deafening white noise at bay, and as I had predicted the list, it was my favorite to be played.
♪ There's a place where lovers go
To cry their troubles away ♪
The tape, surely damaged–played a slower version than I remembered, but it was all the same to me as I let it envelop me in a veil of comfort before finally laying eyes on what we'd come here for–corn. I felt their green stems beneath my fingers as I walked along the field, it was a miracle they were even alive and surviving whatever hardships they'd encountered. Another metaphor.
There came a rustling behind me, my companion doing the same as I had. A scarred hand reaching out to slide his fingers through the crop, keeping a stunned expression on his face, the corners of his lips curling upward.
♪ And they call it Lonesome Town
Where all the broken hearts stay ♪
It must've been a long time for him since feeling something living like this. Much, much longer than it had for me. And I'd just taken it all for granted.
Keeping our pace, we followed the path through the crops until fianlly, the familiarity of a huge wall welcomed me home.
Surrounding me was a vast sky with millions of stars and endlessly stretching mountains, following a path so distant I could not spot the end, all the while the high moon cast silvery blue light upon the world. A projection of the Nebraskan countryside. I used to stare at it for hours, dreaming myself away to a place that no longer existed. 'Did it really look like this? The world- I mean.' I hatched out of me.
♪ You can buy a dream or two
To last you all through the years ♪
'It sure did.' My companion turned to face me, choosing a lesser view over the pretty one before him. He was a mere arms-length away. 'It could be real beautiful.' He said, his eyes roaming my face.
♪ And the only price you pay
Is a heart full of tears ♪
He was a brute, that is true. He was the outcome of living through literal hell, but he'd fared quite well through it all in my opinion. He had his humanity left, which is more than I can say for the majority of the population. Charming and quick-witted, dangerous and cold. He'd seen who we were and what we had become, it's no wonder he acted the way he did. But it was all the same to me, he was strong and handsome, he could even by kind-hearted at times, and I loved him through it all.
♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town
To cry my troubles away ♪
The implication made me blush, and shy away from his eager eyes while I averted my own, leading them back to the contryside. 'I wish I could've seen it.' I tried to focus, studying the sight meticulously, jotting down every detail in my mind. I hadn't had time the last time I was here- not to dwell. Too late now it seemed, the memory resurfacing with a passion as my eyes drifted over the scorching cloud in the sky, burned into the irreplaceable film. My lips drew into a thin line as I swallowed, it was reality, it was life. But it didn't stop my stumache from churning, the stench of wet metal revisiting my nose.
♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town
To cry my troubles away ♪
A scarred hand reached up to brush strands of hair from my face, again, distracting me mercifully. Rough knuckles gently sliding over my cheek and the neighing of my jaw. 'I wish you could too.' He grasped my chin between this thumb and index finger, tilting my face upwards, our gazes meeting eachother.
♪ In a Town of broken dreams
The streets are filled with regret ♪
I leaned into his touch, for it was rare. Rare that he allowed himself simple pleasures such as touching me, even though I would willingly give myself to him at a moments whim. 'I love you.' I whispered. 'Please, please let me.'
♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town
I can learn to forget ♪
The music glitched, the sound warping spookily as the needle scratched and jumped the groves in the needle. Shutting off for a second and then coming back on, restarting the song.
He shook his head, eyes uncharacteristically soft as met mine. Uncharacteristic to anyone but me. 'I can't feel ya', sweetheart.' He reclaimed his hand and took a step back, squeezing it into a fist, frustration shaking it as he cursed himself. The music tuned out, and all I see was the blue light contrasting his red-burnt skin, enforcing its texture as shadows settled in the contours and the pale silver on his high points. All I could hear were his words, the frustration and insufficiencies hinding in his tone, mirroring my own. 'Can't feel your fuckin' softness, cant feel your skin.'
'You can–' I followed his movement, gaining on the distance he'd created between us. '–it might not be ideal, but it's us.' I slid my fingers along his clothed arm, grabbing his coarse hand.
'I'm here, not perfect, and that's what you can feel. Imperfection. . . It's something that belongs to us.' I gave him a faint smile, doing my best to reassure him. To truly make him understand.
'I dont deserve you.' He leaned his forehead against mine, his cowboy hat sliding up his head as he did so.
It was my turn to shake my head now. 'Oh, but if you only knew what you desvered.' My voice broke, eyes watering. 'The world, coop. You've been through so much, you survived the bombs dropping for fucks sake, and the following 200 years after that. What you did during those years was for your own survival, please do not ever feel bad about any of it.' The silence that ensued became too long, too deafening. 'I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so beautiful in your own right.' A tear fell down my cheek.
'I dont feel bad 'bout it sweetheart, thats the problem. I aint any of that, 'm a selfish killer. There's nothin' left of who I were–the good part. . .' his hand slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps to emphasize. '. . .what little good there was, it died a long time ago.' His drawl thick as he spoke, kissing my forehead. 'You can do better, 'n I cant allow those precious years of yours to go to waste on somethin' like me.' He wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head, cradeling it to his chest as he pulled me close, resting his chin on top of my head. The wetness of my cheeks transfering to his shirt. 'Don't cry, sweetheart. Dont cry 'cause of me.' He kissed my forehead again, working his way downward–cheekbone, jaw and finally–my lips.
His hands slid down the outline of my body, shoulders and ribs, then settled on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss in the same motion.
♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town
I allowed him to kiss me for too long, I allowed him to believe his own words for too long. I pulled free, tearing away to breathe, to lock my eyes on his. 'I dont want who you were, dont you understand?' I cup his face, truly feeling him beneath my fingers, and loving every bump and dent. 'I want who you are now, scars and all. It's not for you to allow me anything. Get that in your head.' My voice had gone harsh, and even though he needed to hear it with all the conviction I muster, I added 'Please. . .' As softly as I could.
♪ I can learn to forget
The last notes of the song died out.
He shook his head as a small, breathless, humorless chuckle erupted from his lips. '. . .I love you too. . .'
♪ Only you
The next song started, the voice vibrating through his bones. A song he'd danced to when it was first released, twirling a life that no longer existed in his arms. He closed his eyes, humming along to the tune as he embraced the memory, arms wrapping tightly around its waist, hugging it lovingly one last time. Then let go.
♪ Can do, make this world seem right
He mouthed the words as he opened his eyes, finding her sweet face looking up at him, his pretty girl. It'd taken him more than he wished to admit, to say those three words. How such meak and fruitless words had cause him so much turmoil, he didn't know.
♪ Only you
Because when he looked at her now–stars projecting in her glimmering eyes, the wetness of tears remaining on her cheeks, anf with the backdrop of a countryside from a bygona era–the prevailing feeling was grief, a mourning over the precious time wasted, time he could've spent in admitant love with her. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. Things he just hadn't allowed himself to concede to, to fall slave under it. To truly feel it from the bottom of his heart–instead, reciding in the pit of it, in some dark, tucked away corner, was the feeling of being lesser and undeserving of her softness, her own kind heart.
♪ Can do, make the darkness bright
'Come.' She said, a faint smile on her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Away from the corn, away from Nebraska. He followed her willingly, blindly trusting her as she pulled him to wherever. He didn't care, as long as he was with her.
♪ Only you and you alone
The music grew fainter, devolving into a sweet hum, a lullig as the distance of the speakers tossed the sound boucing after them, echoing along the vaults longevous walls while they moved through them.
He turned her hand over as they walked, observing it quietly as he rubbed gentle circles into the plush skin of her hand, admiring what softness he could feel, his distorted hands dulling the sense unbareably.
♪ Can thrill me like you do
But it didnt matter in the end. Imperfection is what she'd said, and it belonged to them. His heart ached, eyes drifting over the small form leading him. The way her hair swayed and body moved, he could feel himself harden. Guilting himself. It was love for a woman, a family, that had once driven him to survive- with that life now long gone, it was that beautiful girl infrontnof him that kept him going.
♪ And fill my heart with only love for you
They passed several doors with accompanying mailboxes, until she slowed and halted her steps so suddenly, she almost collided with his chest. Her form stood frozen, contemplating, just as she'd done when they first entered the vault.
A scorched finger rose up to stroke her cheek. 'You alright, sweetheart?'
♪ Oh, only you
'Mhm. . .' She hummed. 'One moment.' And whipped around to face him, opening his saddlebag to rummage through it.
Unsuspectingly, a blush crept it's way up her cheeks, seemingly caused by the intent gaze he focused so tightly on her.
♪ Can do, make all this change in me
They'd just kissed, professed their love. Yet, it was his closeness, his warm breath against her that made her blush. He'd never want to be anywhere else. His gaze wandered, studying the home they stood infront of. Eyes landing on a mailbox, he read the full name aloud with a loving smile on his lips.
'I like the way it sounds when you say it.' She whispered, a coy smile on her lips. Suddenly- her eyes widened, finding what she'd been looking for, she pulled the object out of the bag, holding it up for him to see. An old pipboy.
"Welcome" it read, and as she turned one of the kogs, the door to the house opened.
♪ For its true
It was exactly the way I remembered it, not a detail out of place–rather an added layer of dust coating every surface of the place.
I ran a finger along the top of my scratched desk, gathering a pillow of dust on top of it. And then I saw it, standing lonely and abandoned–my old radio. Glee filled me as I turned it on, reflecting the song that was already playing outside. Filling my little house with soft waves of sweet tunes, all thr while weighing my heart terribly. Strong nostalgia splitting me in two. 'I used to love dancing.' The words left my lips in a soft murmur. 'Some of my favorite memories are from this kitchen, and now. . .' My voice broke. Inspected the dust and rubbed it between my fingers, observing how it crumbled to the floor. Perhaps another meatphor–how I myself am responsible for my old life crumbling.
♪ You are my destiny
A pair of hands found my waist, a chin coming to rest on my shoulder. He pulled me close, my back thudding against a strong chest. 'Its alright. . .' He breathed against my neck. 'We can make new ones.' Kissing my skin softly as he began moving with the music.
♪ When you hold my hand
My lips curled into a smile as I declined my head against his chest, snaking my hand behind his neck as the other fell on top of his hand, squeezing it with gratefulness. 'Thank you.' I whispered.
♪ I understand the magic that you do
He twirled me around, luring a giggle to erupt. He caught and pulled me close again, this time face to face. His eyes were still so clear, such a stark contrast to his muddled skin.
♪ You're my dream come true
The lyrics seemed to speak for us as my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my thumbs brushing his jaw. While his hands squeezed my sides, exhaling a long breath as we swayed, his eyes intently searching mine. 'I love you, sweetheart.'
♪ My dream come true
Without hesitation, my lips met his. 'Then prove it to me Coop. . .' Coyness tugged on my lips, my hands sliding to the buttons of his vest, '. . . Let me feel it.'
♪ Oh-oh, only you
He grinned against my lips. 'Anyhtin' for my girl.' And his hands wrapped around mine, helping them unbutton his clothes, skiding them off of him. Barechested as he was, he twirled me again. Back to chest, he whispered in my ear, 'Your turn, darlin'.'
♪ Can do, make all this change in me
Gladly, with my hands still guided by his touch, I brushed them along my torso, undoing every button of my shirt as I did so and slid it off my shoulders, my bra coming off next. He cupped them eagerly, a groan leaving his lips as he massaged them. Ingiting a pulse deep in my uterus. The music seemed to tune out off my mind, selective hearing I suppose.
Moaning in response, I could feel him harden as he pressed his hips into my ass. 'Need to feel it.'
'Undress.' Was all he said, removing his own clothes as I did mine.
A short moment later, he had my back pinned against a wall and my legs wrapped around his hips as he held me up with a firm arm around my waist–the other busy lining himself up with my core.
Suddenly- he pushed inside, leaving me as a whimpering mess. 'Good girl, sweetheart. . .' He whispered, doing nothing to ease the aching matter. '. . .sound so pretty for me.'
And without warning, he pulled out, and thrusted back into me again with full force. 'Mmh- Fuck!' I cried out. But his lips were on mine before I could fully register how big he was. Again and again, he trusted right into my core. His tongue fighting for control as it battled my own. My body was aching with a burning want for him, a need so strong I already felt myself closing in on my orgasm. '. . .'M gonna cum, Coop. Slow down, p- please. I stuttered the words, strained breaths dividing the sentence.
'Its ok sweetheart, you're doin' so well.' He reassured me, then took my words as a direct command and pushed us off the wall, walked over to the bed and threw us onto it with a cloud of dust kicking up around us.
Obiding my request, he backed up, hooked my legs over his shoulders and re-entered me with a shuddering moan. The feeling of my core effecting him as badly as his member effected me. With one hand burried in my hair, the other palmed a breast while his lips found my neck, gently taking my skin between his teeth as he pushed so deep inside me I almost screamed, but managed to bite my lip to keep quiet. That's when I felt him shake his head against me. 'Don't go all quiet, let me hear ya', honey.'
And so I did, releasing a string of curses disguised as moans while I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing kisses on his cheek while nuzzling my face against him. But I felt that blinding pressure building again, slower this time, but with an unrelenting force.
His warm breaths against my neck accompanied by the feeling of him inside me and the slick sound we created had my head swimming. It was too much, too fast. But this time, I wanted it. '. . .'M close Coop.' I whimpered.
'Me too, honey. Real fuckin' close.' He panted, voiced muffled as he kissed and sucked at my neck, hands fisting my hair and squeezing my breast. His thrusts began faltering as we both approached climax. 'Fuck, feel so good.' He cursed, groaning the words in my ear as our bodies rocked together, moving in sync. I was aflame, the pulsing in my body acting the accessory to his own members pulsing inside me. My eyes screwed shut, he felt so fucking good it was a simple reflex.
He kissed his way along my throat, pulling on my hair to angle my jaw for him, his lips trailing along it's sharps points, then up my cheek, settling in my lips. 'Look at me.' He breathed.
I wanted to listen to him, but my eyes did not. The pleasure was to much, the wall inside me so near collapsing-
'Look at me, sweetheart.' He ordered again, his voice sharper this time.
Having no other option I forced myself to open them. But it was worth it, listening to Cooper always was.
'Good girl.' He praised, his lips colliding with mine. And that wall burst, his words being the final battering ram. Tidal waves of pleasure rolled through me, roiling like crashing waves inside me. 'Love you, sweetheart.' He moaned.
No words would ever spur me on like those ones did, my uterus was quaking with every act of him. 'Say it again.' I pleaded.
'I love you' he whimpered. . . Whimpered. Strong and dangerous as he was, he whimpered as he came inside me. His rocking thrust strained as he continuing rutting into me, doing his best to lead us through our orgasms.
'Good boy, Coop. Again. . . Please.' I begged.
And he listened, repeating the words "I love you" against my lips, his voice pitching and breaking from the sheer pleasure he was submitted to. And when moving to softly nip at my ear, he whimpered those same three words in my ear over and over again until I felt a wetness on my cheeks–tears, I realised. He was overstimulating himself, crying as he made love to me. 'Fuck-' he shuddered the word, the slickness he'd created only coaxing more sounds out of him. 'Love you real fuckin' hard, darlin'. . .' He cried again. And I could've reached a second orgasm from that alone.
'I love you too Coop, love you so much. Youre so good to me.' I reassured him, my own voice near a cry as he was putting me through the ringer in the process. Finally, he began slowing down, his entire body shuddering from the way my insides clenched around him, milking the juies out of him. He kissed me one final time, then pulled out and collapsed beside me.
I had to take a moment to collect myself before turning to face him, my hand reaching up to brush the wetness from his cheeks.
His eyes met mine, both full of unconditional love. We laid like that for some time, loosing ourselves in eachothers gazes as we regarded one another in silent contemplation. All the while I could feel his seed leaking out of my core. 'You're a good man, Cooper Howard.' I whispered.
'I do what I can to deserve ya', sweetheart. The day I'm anythin' else but good to you-' He began. But I stopped him, not wanting his thoughts to walk down that road.
'You'll never be anything but good, Coop.' I inclined my head, kissing him softly before I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. 'Don't forget it.' My voice a murmur against his strong neck as I slowly drifted off to sleep within the safety of his embrace.
♪ We'll meet again
Hand in hand, our gazes stay on the halls infront of us as we walk back the way we came.
♪ Don't know where, don't know when
My eyes were on the sand as we left, attempting to distract myself by studying the way the the kernels dent beneath my weight. But with a deep breath, I stop and raise my pip-boy clad arm, looking back toward the falling night, toward the empty timecapsule.
♪ But I know We'll meet some sunny day
The words once again faint as they stab through the howling wind. I turn a kog on the pip-boy, and the vault door rolls into motion. The world around us painted in red-pinkish hues as the door's mechanics shut in the echoing vocals completley, the entrance closing with a heavy, reverberating grating sound.
I can feel my heart thudding hard, beating with a sadness and re found happiness. Revisiting my old home had given me melancholy and a new love. 'You coming?' The voice was soft, considering–unwilling to leave my mind wandering through old, lonely thoughts.
'Let's go.' I murmured, my eyes still on the weathered number 33 as the wind whipped at my cheeks.
'Look at me, sweetheart.' my love drawled, gathering my attention, and I redirect my gaze to his. 'We'll come back.'
I nod. 'We will.' A faint smile make its way to my lips as I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips.
Then, with his hand in mine, we wandered the wasteland. Searching for better luck–a better life.
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azzo0 · 1 day
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Couldn't get the idea of taking care of Hawks' wings off my mind. Not proofread <3
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Keigo is really protective and sensitive when it comes to his wings. They're his quirk, the reason why he can move at such high speeds and keep civilians safe. The reason why he's at number two. This also means he takes delicate care of his feathers. He has a special shampoo made just for people with quirks like his. While the shampoo is gentle on his feathers, the spa attendants he gets his wings washed from aren't as gentle. They forget that too much pressure can hurt his bones, even if they're strong. Sometimes, the excessive and harsh scrubbing makes his feathers look like he got into a fight with pigeons. 
But he doesn't have to worry about all that now. Not when he has you with your soft and caring touch. 
Wash days were once stressful for Keigo, but now they're a sweet and intimate moment he gets to share with you as he sits on the edge of the bathtub in his bathroom, big enough for him to spread his wings without knocking a few things over. You stand behind him, showering water onto his wings before lathering the shampoo onto the length of his wings, slowly moving down to the feathers. 
Things easily got heated between you two, especially since he sat there buck naked with your voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear as you helped him with his wings. But most of the time, it was just a quiet and serene moment where you got to take care of him. He deserved to be pampered after all the hard work he did. 
Sometimes, you press kisses on the nape of his neck and the gap between his wings. He sighs dreamily whenever he feels your warm and delicate touch on his feathers, his wings fluttering ever so slightly. After cleaning his feathers, you run water on his wings again. He flaps them a few times after you're done, sprinkling water over you and making you squeal. 
He knows washing his wings is no easy task, so after you're done, he shoos you out of the bathroom to wash his hair, but on days he's too tired, he lets you massage the shampoo into his hair. You help him dry off afterwards, blow dryer on the low setting when you move from his hair to his wings. A few flaps of his wings can do the task, but you do not want water all over your walls. 
After his feathers are dried, you apply the special oil he gets made just for his wings. It leaves his crimson feathers bright and lustrous. He hops in bed afterwards, holding you into him so he can feel your warmth engulf him. He nuzzles into your neck, his freshly cleaned, fluffy hair tickling your chin. He props up on an elbow and brushes his lips against yours, his voice a gentle whisper, "Thank you."
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thecuriousquest · 2 days
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The King of Curses and His Concubine
Trigger Warning: NSFW, heavy yandere themes, dominant behavior, ass play, spitting kink, ass fucking, dub con, concubine, mentions of murder, psychological control
@murderofravens
Master List
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Sukuna pulls you over his knee. You think you’re about to get a spanking. You don’t necessarily like it when he does punish you in this way, especially since you haven’t done anything to deserve it. However, you’re more than surprised when he grabs the fat of your cheeks and pulls them apart. His gaze lingers on your fluttering hole. You can’t see the smile on his face, the predatory smirk full of sadistic satisfaction. Even more, you can feel his hard cock poking your stomach as you lay bent over his lap.
You hear him swirling something in his mouth, can tell his tongue is moving with the motion, amplifying the sound. You look over your shoulder just in time to see his mouth form the shape of an O. You watch the saliva shoot forth from his lips as it coats your asshole, seeping into it slowly.
The lines on his face contort into a feral and sloppy grin as he plunges two fingers deep inside of you. In and out. In and out. Fast, then slow. Fast again, slow again, faster and faster as he targets your sensitive walls. He spreads his fingers in the shape of a V while keeping them inserted inside of you.
Oh, you’re a writhing mess over his lap. You can’t stand it. His beefy fingers, his strong hand pumping between your cheeks. You were scared at first, but now you’re about to come repeatedly.
And you do. You orgasm on his lap over and over again. He is completely taking control of your overstimulation, not even giving you an inch of room to plead for anything. Even if you could talk, which he took great measures to get you to a point of brain fog, you wouldn’t ask for him to stop.
Incoherent babbling is all you’re capable of now as your tongue hangs out of your mouth while you go limp over his sturdy thigh. You come one last time, all nice and sloppily wet for him, drool and tears of pleasure pooling and mixing together on the wooden floor beneath you.
With two of his four arms, he picks you up. Your body moving with his will as you’re too exhausted to resist. You’re so docile, so compliant, such a good girl. He moves you on his lap, your back to his chest. Sukuna uses his other two hands to spread your thighs widely. His hard cock lines up with the edge of your asshole, nestled nicely between your cheeks. His spit and pre acting as a lubricant.
Sukuna pushes your body down roughly, and you cry out. You don’t even have to do any work. He enjoys bouncing your body on his cock. You’re all under his control. You just have to comply and try not to move as much as possible. Like a large train trying to fit through a small tunnel, his cock fills you up completely. You look down and watch as Sukuna brings the hand that was holding your left thigh up to your puffy little clit.
You can’t help but let your head fall back against his shoulder. He’s pushing you into yet another orgasm. You can feel it as the rough pad of his large pointer and middle finger circle and swirl on the little button of nerves.
“Good whores deserve all sorts of rewards, my cock being one of them,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sultry and powerful, even the softness in which he speaks right now is still filled with authority.
“M…m…mas…ter!”
“You can’t even say it. Pathetic. You really are just a sloppy, submissive little slut. It’s a good thing you’re pretty, because you really don’t have much in that head of yours.”
He laughs as he induces another orgasm while he pumps your ass with his thick and veiny erection.
You feel him fill you up, and as goes flaccid, he decides to hold you closely; two arms wrapped beneath your breasts, and two arms hugging your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder while you lean back against him, panting and sweaty, thoroughly exhausted.
“You really are the best one out of all of them. Maybe, I should kill the others and just have you,” he says more to himself as he brushes your nipple with his thumb.
You hear him, but you don’t dare say anything. Sukuna has always been kinder to you because you are his favorite concubine, but he is still a cruel master. You always keep this in mind, never letting your guard down around him just because he can be so fickle.
“Would you like that, Y/N? Would that please you?”
You only let the silence hang between you two as you formulate the correct response.
“If it makes you happy, Master…then it makes me happy as well.”
And if you are responsible for the death of those twenty-five girls, then so be it. You know better than to give any other kind of response to Sukuna by now. By the many, many excruciating lessons he has taught you before, you damn well know better by now…
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cevheris · 2 days
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Shower sex with..
Ellie Williams!!
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Summary: You let Ellie join you in shower and she proves she can't be trusted for all she does is to make you dirtier.
A/N; this is a short one, straight to the smut. No plot whatsoevery 🫶
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You should've known that letting Ellie join you in shower would lead up to anything but cleaning. Straight up making more of a mess.
Giving her open mouth kisses under the shower head while her back is against the cold porcelain tiles of the wall, her hands explore your body, your hands knead her breasts like stress balls.
Breathy moans escape her from between your lips, "Shouldn't have trusted you with this."
"I don't regret it," she pulls you closer and sucks on your lower lip. "do you?"
"Not a chance."
The warm water making everything more intimate and slick, your hand leaves her breast and slides down towards her bush.
She arches her back when your fingers rub against her arousal, cupping her pussy and moving your middle finger in slick circles.
Her face red and flustered, "Hold on, i want to help you relax today." hands wrap around your wrist to make you stop.
"You don't have to baby,-"
"But i want to. Besides, you deserve it angel."
With that she kneels down and cues you to open your legs, one hand on your right thigh raising it up baring your cunt. She balances your leg on her shoulder and licks a stripe all the way up from your rim to your hood.
You bite back a moan as she buries her face into your puffy red pussy lips and sucks on the hood of your clit, urging your legs wider while they shake in pleasure.
"Fuck, love your mouth on me baby." you moan out breathlessly.
Humming, Ellie sucks a bruise into your thigh, then goes right back into licking on your pussy. Her nose nestled against your swollen clit as she fucks her tongue into your leaking hole.
You breathe heavily, your hands finding her short pixie and tugging on the roots to push her further between your legs.
You toss your head back, cheeks all red, "God, Ellie I'm about to cum."
"Mhmm, cum on my face please." her teeth scrape your bud for one last time and that's enough to throw you off the edge, coming undone on her chin. Juices coating her face.
She licks it all up, not wasting a drop. Thumbs draw circles in a soothing manner on your thighs, lovingly. You send her way the sweetest smile and comb your fingers through her hair.
"Let's clean up now, for real this time." you know damn well the two of you ended up distracted from showering again.
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itneverendshere · 1 day
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my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue
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just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺
warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him
you did it without thinking.
it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.
rafe.
the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you. 
this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.
you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.  
but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.
except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again. 
your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?
and if he isn’t?
there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already. 
you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.
you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.
holy fuck.
your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.
what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago. 
for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.  
should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.
“i can hear you breathing.”
panic sets in. 
summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there. 
you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”
his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones. 
“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”
you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?
“i didn’t run?”
his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”
the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?
“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“
“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.
you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough. 
“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”
his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.
“hey, sweetheart, this is me.”  his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”
but he’s not your rafe anymore.
that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him. 
a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.
"yeah..."
rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”
if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.
you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view. 
you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.
"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“
rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal. 
"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”
“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“
his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”
tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."
“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.
“it was! i’m a shitty person.”
his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”
“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”
the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.
he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.
you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.” 
rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”
without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.
“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”
“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”
you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.
“i have a date.”
a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations. 
rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”
but you only sob harder.
"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”
but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe. 
"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”
but you are. at you. at him.
the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.
you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.
"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"
it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.
rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”
“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”
his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.
"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed. 
you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.
"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."
but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.
"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."
you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them. 
it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing. 
“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”
it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.
and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.
“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”
for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say. 
and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.
“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”
his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”
“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”
and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.
and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more. 
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brnesblogposts · 1 day
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monster in his nightmares
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pairing bucky barnes x reader
warnings ANGST!!!
a/n can you guys let me know if you can click on my master list and are directed to my fics because it’s not working for me.
reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed !
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You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe. Your neck is being squeezed so tight your vision spotting as panic takes over.
“Bu- Bucky” You whisper as best you can in broken breathes, he doesn’t know he’s doing it. He never does, his nightmares are vivid and so real to him and he can’t control his physical reactions, tears are rolling down your face as you move your hand to grip his metal wrist and try loosen his grip, you don’t want it to have to come to violence but the fear you might die and the fear he’d spend the rest of his life feeling guilty for something he couldn’t control- you start kicking him, kicking and hitting. Wake up, wake up you think to yourself
‘No. Stop. Please. Dont put me back in the chair, dont wipe my mind again’ Bucky thinks to himself in a panic as Hyrda agents push him back, how did they find him? how was he tricked into being taken again and now his memory wiped of everything he loves- his memories of you- ‘No.’ The thought of losing you is enough to make him push through and use all his strength, he takes his metal hand and wraps it around the nearest agents neck, it call kicks off into a frenzy then but he fights through it, he watches as the life drains out of the agents face.
“Bu- bucky?” What? No they don’t- they call him soldat- who’s speaking, who’s kicking him? this man he’s strangling sounds like a woman? odd. what’s happening?
He’s in a room, it’s dark. He’s on something soft, a mattress? They don’t give out those in Hydra so he can’t be back with them, who’s underneath him?
“You’re okay” Strangled sobs, you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. “Bucky” You all but desperately whine, that’s when he really wakes up.
Bucky shoots back quickly sitting on his knees as you take in deep breathes of oxygen and rub at your aching throat, he’s bewildered, did he? He hurt you. He hurt his doll.. He jumps off of the bed and backs away, he’s shaking, sweating, he’s starting to violently sob as reality comes crashing down. He almost killed you.
You finally get enough air in your lungs to notice Bucky is gone, you sit up and your heart breaks as you see him sitting against the wall on the other side of the room, looking at his metal hand like it’s a weapon, like he’s sickened by the sight of it. Getting up slowly you approach him and crouch in front of him, at the approach of your hand he flinches.
“No” That one word holding so much pain.
“Get away from me, I- I don’t wanna hurt you anymore Doll” He’s not looking at you, he can’t. If he sees the state of your neck, the bruises he’s left-
“Bucky” You whisper quietly as he shakes his head again, it’s hard for him to comeback down from nightmares but you don’t know what to do in this particular situation, he’s never hurt you because of them before, not this bad.
“It’s not your fault” You reassure him, not expecting an answer but you hope to get through to him, that the reassurance and love you show him right now will help him see he’s not the man in his nightmares.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me” You say as you sit down across him him still giving him space as he holds his head in his hands and cries.
“I’m okay” You don’t care how long you have to sit here, as long as Bucky needs you’re gonna be there for him.
You sit in silence for a few minutes and just watch him as he takes some deep breathes, a technique he learnt in therapy, you get up and grab him some water leaving it by him for him to take in his own time, he does eventually and takes small sips.
A record is playing softly in the background he notices, one of his favourites. He senses your presence, he knows you’re there but he doesn’t understand why. He almost killed you, why aren’t you running away from him?
“I-i’m dangerous, you should get away from me-” He wont meet your eyes.
“I trust you, Bucky.” You don’t know what else you can say to reassure him, he just needs time to come down from this.
“How?” He looks at you now, grimacing as he sees the bruises on your neck. “How can you trust me, look what I did.” He’s so ashamed.
“You didn’t mean to. You were having a nightmare, we can work this out, we can talk to some doctors and see how to get your physical reactions to nightmares under control Buck. If you think i’m leaving because of this you’re wrong. I’m fine, you came out of it and i’m okay” Tears build up behind your eyes but Bucky is so fragile and vulnerable right now you’re trying to be strong for him.
He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes wet with tears and his face one of shock horror, you can’t hold it back anymore you start to tear up.
“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, I wish I could take it all away, I really wish I could.” You reach your hand out in hopes he’ll let you have that little bit of contact and he does, he takes your hand albeit cautiously and at the contact you start to cry harder.
“You don’t deserve any of it, Buck. You never did. You’re the best man i’ve ever met and your heart is so pure. It makes me so mad to think about what you’ve been through and how it will stick with you for the rest of your life. It’s fucked up and I wish- I wish I could- I want to kill everyone who has ever been bad to you or used you.” The frustration of having to watch Bucky suffer the severe PTSD that he does hurts your heart, it causes your chest to actually ache because he is so sweet, so gentle.
“Don’t cry” Bucky says in response as his heart is being ripped out of his chest at the sight of you so upset. “There’s no need to cry” Despite everything he’s been through seeing you even just the tiniest bit upset hurts him more than anything ever could, so it’s for that reason that he looks past the fear he’s holding and leans forward to pull you into his chest.
You instantly curl up, this is so grounding for Bucky, feeling your heartbeat against his, your skin on his skin, it’s so intimate for him in times like these where he’s taken back to times when he never received simple love like touch, now more than ever he cherishes it.
“Buck-“ You croak out as you kiss his face all over, trying to show just how much you love him. He shushes you and rocks with you, his head clearing and eyes drying up. Your presence alone does more than therapy ever can.
So you both sit there for awhile, the only sounds to be heard is the both of you breathing. You stroke comforting hands up and down Buckys back and through his hair, he relaxes into your touch, into the moment, present. No longer stuck in his nightmare he’s now in a dream, being with you is a dream.
After awhile you speak up “Do you want to go back to bed? Or we can go into the living room and watch a movie or a tv show? Whatever you wanna do” You would do anything for him to be okay, you would take his trauma and deal with it yourself if you could if you knew just for a second that he would finally be at peace in his own mind.
He thinks for a second, contemplating.
“The beds kind of- it’s- too fresh in my mind you know? You can go back to bed baby i’ll go to the cou-“
“No” You cut him off “I’m with you, i’m not leaving your side.” He smiles because he’s grateful for you, with that he stands up, you still clinging to him like a koala and moves the both of you to the couch laying down with you on top of him.
“What do you wanna watch?” He asks.
“Anything you want, whatever is gonna make you feel better” Your hands are in his hair again.
He puts on a lighthearted sitcom that makes the both of you laugh as he strokes his hands up and down your back soothing not just you but himself, the contact keeping him in the moment. That’s how the both of you spend the next hour or so before you hear Bucky snoring lightly, finally sleeping nightmare free and you join him, ready to comfort him should he be woken up again.
a/n i started writing this a few weeks ago and then i got busy and then i fixated on something else but anyways i finished it! kind of hate it now tho but i haven’t posted in awhile,
taglist- @ktgsoul @orihimi-19 @mostlymarvelgirl (let me know if you wanna be added to a permanent bucky taglist)
divider by @/cafekitsune
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dayasusays · 1 day
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could you write a degradation dirty talk type bruce!! i imagine him to have the BEST dirty talk
oh, anon, he has the best dirty talk.
bruce is experienced, mature and i can tell he knows how to treat a woman.
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warnings ! — SMUT, headcanons, fem!reader, husband!bruce wayne, dirty talk, cunnilingus, maledom, praise, compliments
summary ? — bruce has the best dirty talk.
౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇
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husband!bruce wayne, who knows what his words do to you and uses them skillfully.
husband!bruce wayne, who only needs to open his mouth and talk to make you wet.
husband!bruce wayne, who massages your clit through the fabric of your underwear and whispers “so wet for me, yes? yes, princess, just for me?”
husband!bruce wayne, who will occasionally take a break from your clit just to talk; sure, he doesn't look like the kind of man who would be distracted by conversation in the middle of his favorite business, but my god, your face when you moan disappointedly is worth it, “are you okay, love? should i stop?” and he says it all with a satisfied soft smile, as if he doesn't realize at all what a mess you're becoming after him.
husband!bruce wayne, who's just admiring you and the way you're watching his movements. “that's it, love. my wife is so delicious,” he straddles your thighs and spreads them a little wider, not forgetting to look you straight in the eyes, “i could stay between those thighs all day. you're so beautiful from this angle,” he's so good with his words that you want to cum right now.
husband!bruce wayne, who knows where to push and where to kiss; with each movement of his tongue, your legs tense up more and more, and your hands reach for his hair, pulling him closer, closer, closer...
“so impatient,” bruce continues to murmur, “let me enjoy, princess, don't be so unfair,” he leaves a kiss on your clit, making you clench around his fingers. you lean back and try to relax, but it's almost impossible when the rough pads of his fingers press against the tender walls, “good girl,” he whispers and still continues to suck on your clit, “look at you. so beautiful when you cum.”
husband!bruce wayne, who fucks you so deep and slow that with each thrust you seem to see stars. “you were enthusiastic when we started,” bruce pulls back your hair a little, leaning over and whispering right into your lips, “look at you. cumming on my cock for the second time,” he speeds up a little as his fingers find your clit; it takes you a couple seconds to cum again, “good girl, so good.”
husband!bruce wayne, who continues to whisper short “my beautiful girl”, “that big cock makes you cum again, doesn't it, love?” and “you're so fucking tight”.
husband!bruce wayne, who wants another orgasm from you. he wants to empty you; to fuck your brain, to make you forget everything that might be in your pretty head. he pushes deep into you, unbearably slow and sensual, so that you want to scream out how good it feels, ”are you okay, my love?” bruce strokes your hair, twisting a strand on his finger as you mutter positively in response, “great, because i’m not going to stop until i fill you with my cum.” ୨♡୧
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sorry for delay ! still having a little rest :)
like, comment & reblog? <3
🦇 abt me | m.list
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pablitogavii · 1 day
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Protecting her
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Life with Pablo Gavi, the boy everyone adores, and I hate with all my passion not for any particular reason. I actually tried making peace with him the moment I stepped foot into his house at the beginning of my exchange program.
I tried to be nice, to even become his friend but he would always push me away and find some reason to fight me. Even Aurora and his parents tried to make us like each other but it didn't work so I just deiced to stay out his way..somehow that didn't stop him to sabotage me every step of the way all the freaking time!
leo: look at what your brother did to me! boy is a delinquent! I can't do this anymore Y/n..I'm sorry.
There was a picture attached of my soon to become boyfriend with bruised eye and busted lip. Did Pablo really did this just so Leo dumps me knowing it would spite me!?
I heard stumbling and rushed towards the front door to comfort Pablo about this. I was done staying on the sidelines and letting him do whatever he pleased just because I am guest at this house..this is MY life he was messing with for his own amusement!
"Why did you do it!? Tell me he said something to provoke you? Tell me you weren't just trying to spite me by doing this Pablo.." I said but he completely ignored me, like I was invisible, unimportant and that drove me mad.
"No! You're going to start listening to me! WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO LEO!!??" I said pushing him against the wall with all my strenght which was not possible unless he let me do it.
"Hm..or what if I don't listen chiqui? What will you do to me precious..huh??" he pushed back and I needed up glued on the wall in the matter of seconds. I gulped..he was so close..and I was no longer angry at him..I was tired of this whole "hate" thing.
"I'm tired of this Pablo..just leave me alone!" I said trying to push him but he wouldn't budge looking down at my face like he was lost in thought. I would give up everything ot know what he was thinking right now.
"P..please.." I was close to tears yet again being dumped not to mention that all my "friends" here only hang out with me thinking they will get to meet my new "brother"..I just wanted to be left alone by everyone especially Pablo Gavi who made this whole trip horrible!
"Fine.." he moved and i walked away not knowing that something in him broke seeing me so sad in front of him knowing he was the reason for it.
I was crying rather loudly knowing his parents and Aurora are not here and Pablo probably didn't even care about it. I was very wrong since he was glued to my door listening to each sound until finally opening the door and walking closer to the bed.
"Stop crying.." he said and I realized that he was indeed there watching me, probably in amusement.
"Leave me alone asshole!" I yelled feeling the bed move as he laid behind me making my whole body contract especially when his strong arms wrapped around my body..what was this nervousness and why did it feel so good to be held by him!?
"Please stop crying...if you like Leo that much I'll stay away.." he said while his hands were tracing invisible shapes on my bare skin making shivers moving down my spine and make me breathless. I truly didn't care that deeply for Leo..I almost cared more how it was angering Pablo..how I finally gotten some type of reaction out of him. I slowly moved turning around in his embrace to face him.
"It's not about Leo..it's about you..why can't you just stop hating me!?" I spoke my hand moving to his face caressing it gently and he let me do it for a few moments closing his eyes looking like he was enjoying it..maybe Pablo felt something for me..maybe I did for him too..maybe that's this tension between us..maybe it's love?
"Because you're annoying!" he pulled away and that gentle caring Pablo vanished in a matter of a second and he was back to being hateful asshole..he only wanted to feel in control and I gave him the chance..like an idiot..thinking he was genuine.
Quickly, he was out of my room returning to his crying himself to sleep..he was a coward to speak about his emotions..because I am not permanent..I will leave him soon and he couldn't afford to get attached.
Weeks went by and I couldn't sleep without imaging those strong arms wrapped around me. Leo asked me to try again but I rejected him..I couldn't stop thinking about my "gentle" Pablo wondering if that was his true nature..I wanted to get to him again..to feel that way again..to understand him.
"Are you ready hermanita?" Aurora said and I met her outside as she was my ride to the stadium for El Classico. I rarely went to his games thinking he would hate me there, but today I wore his jersey and went with the rest of his friends with pride. I wanted him to look me in the ye and tell me hates me if he does so much!
y.n.bebe
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Rora and me at #ElClassico ❤️❤️
comentarios:
gvirafans: with Gavi jersey👀
aurorapaezg: hermanitaa💗
belengavira: pretty girls ❤️❤️
pablogavi: ❤️
I saw his comment..he probably did it because people would talk if he didn't..but a heart..it felt special..and made me even more determined to get close to him again.
During the game, Gavi was comeptlely focused as always wanting to win against the biggest enemy. Barca was better but it was frustrating that no ball would finally enter the goal..and time was running out till end of first half.
"I saw that new hermanita of yours..hmm..the things I'd do to her body" Vini provoked and Gavi lost it kicking the ball into the audience and walking towards him while everyone pushed him backwards and referee showed him a red card.
"Say that again hijo de puta!? Let me hear you say it again!" Pablo was not stopping until Xavi himself pulled him away from the pitch giving him a whole lecture about being more mature player.
"It was a good game hermano" Aurora said when we met with Pablo since Barça still ended up winning. Pablo was still heated and seeing me there wasn't helping.
"It's all her fault!" he said pointing at me in front of everyone and I looked away sadly..he was trying to hate me so I give up but I'm not giving up that easily because i know what I felt that night is real!
"Leave her alone! She did nothing wrong!" Aurora tried defending me but I was done being silent walking towards him bravely.
"Let's leave them alone.." Pablo's guy friends said and everyone left as the two of us stood there across from each other not saying a single word. Two can play this stupid game Gavi!
"What did I do to you huh!? Why don't you admit that you don't actually hate me Pablo?? I know you don't.." I said touching his sweaty jersey but he pulled away quickly like he was scared..
"Don't touch me!" he yelled expecting me to turn away and run but I moved closer again.
"Why? What are you sacred of when I touch you huh?"I said once again touching his chest and this time he didn't move staring at my lips longingly.
"Chiqui don't.." he whispered when I moved closer feeling my cheeks blush at the new nickname he chose..the feeling was back and I didn't want to lose it.
"Why?" I asked touching his face and again he closed his eyes as his hands wrapped around my waist pulling me even closer as our chests touched.
"B..because I won't be able to hold myself back" he whispered as we both opened around eyes looking into each other.
"P..Pablo.." I said breathlessly moving even closer but then Leo's familiar voice interrupted our little moment and Pablo pulled away angrily.
"Please let's talk Y/n..about us" Leo said and I internally cursed seeing Pablo's disappointed look as he just walked away without a word..freaking great!
"Is she coming?" Aurora asked
"She has another ride" Pablo said annoyingly reminding himself why he put up a wall..last thing he needed is to get hurt by a girl right now.
"No! I don't!" I said rushing after them after telling Leo I was done with him and sitting in the backseat next to Pablo whose jaw was clenching and he was clearly angry.
"He understood that it's over.." I whispered to Pablo but he was unfazed..once again like he didn't care. Here we go again!
"I don't care!" he whispered back before going on his phone as I sighed loudly besides him.
That night I couldn't sleep..I couldn't have him mad at me anymore..I did maybe the stupidest thing in the world walking to his room in the middle of the night. Luckily he was awake..
"P..Pablo.." I said and he turned around sitting in his bed with a surprised look on his face.
"Go away!" he said but I moved closer standing in front of him.
"I'm not going anywhere..I know why you hit Leo, he told me what he said to his friend and that you heard him" I said and Pablo looked up with raised eyebrows.
"He said you're alone and he can get with you in a week..and I showed him you're NOT alone" Pablo said and I smiled nodding my head and touching his hair as he looked up at me.
"And Vini?" I asked moving my hand down to his face while he looked at me finally putting down his guard and being vulnerable once again.
"Don't talk to me about that disgusting hijo de puta!" he said angrily and I knew he must have said something about me on the pitch..something that didn't sit right with Pablo and he needed to protect me..something you don't do for a person you "hate".
"Don't get angry.." I said and he nodded feeling more sad than angry while his hands snaked around my waist and he pulled me in kissing my stomach over my dress and I breathed heavily.
"I can't stop hating you chiqui.."he spoke into my stomach and I sighed raising his chin up and moving to sit on his lap.
"Why Pablo?" he said moving his hair back and he leaned into my touch as his face went into my neck and he started kissing my skin passionately.
"Because you're leaving me so soon..and I don't want to lose someone I love so much.."he finally said what's been on his mind for awhile and I felt my heart banging against my chest.
"So you decided to hate me? Why didn't you just ask me to stay with you??" I said with a smile and he was surprised to hear me say those words looking up into my eyes hopefully.
"And would you stay for me chiqui?" he said while I held his face and his hands tightly held onto my waist.
"Hmm it depends.." I said smirking moving in and he gulped once again looking at my lips longingly and I smiled.
"On what chiqui??"he smirked and I blushed to scared to tell him what I wanted right now..I just wanted him to finally kiss me.
"Hm..let me guess then" he held my face pulling me in and kissing my lips hungrily making me breathless but never happier. Then he pulled away..and I wanted to cry..I was so tired of these games and I just wanted to be with him!
"Please don't push me away again..please" i latched onto his shoulder and he smiled kissing the top of my forehead before pulling me in bed with him letting me lay my head on his strong chest.
"I'm never letting you go again precious.." he said as I looked up kissing him again as we continued to make out pulling onto each others clothes int he heat of the moment...
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