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#pretty and ready to ruin lives
sorcerous-caress · 4 months
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I don't think some of you realise how tedious looking for a needle in a haystack actually is
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ourautumn86 · 6 months
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you love it when i play with you
ellie williams x fem! reader
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summary; you play with your gf, who needs you. a couple of texts would have her on your bed, and you, a mess.
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sexting, teasing, strap on usage (r receiving), strap sucking, throat fucking, mentions of smoking (ellie’s high), choking, hair pulling, so much tension, dirty talking, reader being a tease, ellie showing her her place, tit and nipple play, multiple positions (one of them being riding), multiple orgasms, begging, praise kink, praising, no use of y/n…
a/n; i reached the 10 picture maximum so sorry for the messages change :(🎀
it was a calm saturday afternoon, rain pouring down in mid october as you sat on your bed, a book in between your hands as you read, listening to the soft music blasting through your speakers.
though your attention quickly drifted at the sound of a new notification coming from your phone. it was a message. from your girlfriend.
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you smiled, leaving your book aside to take your phone in between your hands and unlock it to read it.
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you bit down on your lip, your eyebrows rising at the message. you quickly typed an answer.
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you patiently waited as you saw the bubble of writing appear, the phone in between your hands buzzing with the entry of a new message.
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you felt your belly warm up, your pussy throb. even more when she attached a image to this messages.
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you flushed, thighs pushing together. you knew what she was doing. and you knew how to play this game.
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you smirked. ellie’s reddish eyes were feeling heavier at the sight of your beautiful tits. you were wearing her favorite camisole.
she sighed, lips wetting her lips. she wanted them on her mouth.
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ellie groaned, her hand cupping her clothed cunt, which was tingling and throbbing, starting to soak up her boxers.
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ellie swore her heart must have stopped. her hand pushing inside her boxers, fingers diving in between her slick folds, sighing at the feeling. she was indeed so wet.
you noticed the message had been read but she wasn’t answering, so you decided to push on her buttons just a little bit more.
are you wet, ellie?
ellie bit down on her lip, her fingers drawing soft circles on her clit.
you know i am, baby
now, why don’t you let me see you, hm?
you blushed, biting down on your lip before pulling down on your camisole to free your breasts and snap a picture, your hardened pretty nipples showing for your girlfriend.
new photo attached
ellie was getting dressed as soon as she opened it, getting ready as quickly as possible to pull up her legs her jeans and put on her old dirty black converse. she squirmed at the feeling of the wet patch in between her thighs as she walked towards the door.
omw
she typed with one hand as she grabbed the keys of her car.
you shook your head, slightly giggling as you got up from your bed, going towards your vanity to put on some lipgloss and perfume. you looked at yourself on the reflection and smiled. ellie didn’t live very far, so by the time you were done she was pulling at your door, using the key you had gifted her to get inside, running upstairs to your room, where you awaited her on your knees, sitting in the bed.
she groaned when she saw you, feeling dizzy. “you look like a fucking angel.” your doe pretty eyes looked up at her as she approached you, breathing heavy and pupils dilated. you could tell she had been smoking, maybe that’s why she’d gotten so horny. ellie always got horny while high. her cold hand took a grip of your chin, leaning down, her lips brushing your shiny ones. the same lips that had kissed every single crevice of your body. “i wanna ruin you.” you smiled against her lips, that angelical smile that couldn’t deceive her anymore.
“yeah?” you inquired her, and she chuckled, the hand on your chin coming down onto your neck, squeezing. she loved it when you’d taunt her. it only made her hungrier. you left a soft breath against her mouth, a silent moan at the feeling of her hand slightly cutting off your blood flow, making you feel dizzy. the tension could be cut with a knife. it only made you wetter.
“you have a lot to say today, don’t you?” she inquired. “teasing me through texts…, teasing me with a hand around your neck... you make it seem as if i couldn’t fuck the attitude right outta you, baby. is that what you want? want me to fuck some sense into that pretty little head of yours, hm? want me to help you remember your place?” she squeezed tighter, and this time, you whimpered. “i think you do.” she muttered, right against your ear, shivers running down your spine and goosebumps rising on your skin. her lips slightly traced your cheek, all the way back to your lips. “now say please.”
“please.” you breathed out, feeling your cunt throb under her green eyes.
“good girl.” she smirked, pulling away from you, making you whimper. she hushed you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’m just gonna give that pretty little mouth of yours something to be busy with.” your eyes fell to her hands, which were unzipping her jeans. you hadn’t noticed the bulge underneath the denim, underneath her boxers. your mouth watered. you watched as she got rid of her clothes, leaving herself on just her white wife-beater, perky nipples showing and poking through. her strap was laying low on her hips, 7 inches of silicone, detailed with veins. you were drooling. she noticed. “open.” she ordered, the tip against your lips, and you followed, parting them not before leaving a kitten lick to the tip, making her grunt. “fucking tease.” you smirked, although you were gagging soon enough for it to disappear. “just needed to get that smirk fucked out of your face, hm?” one of her hands laced on your hair, and you moaned around the strap, taking it as deep as you could. “that’s it. take that cock.” she sighed, watching as your pretty eyes looked up at her, springing with tears, your lips around her dick as you bobbed your head. she swore she could feel it. “let me see your boobs, baby.” she said, and you pulled down your camisole, letting your tits show. she groaned. “that’s it. go ahead and touch them for me. give me a show, doll.” your hands cupped them, fingers pinching your nipples for them to swell. you moaned, and ellie’s hips thrusted in your mouth, making you gag. you tried to breath through your nose, closing your eyes as you relaxed your throat for her to fuck. “that’s it baby, open up for me.” she then slowly started to go deeper, until your lips were hitting the base of the strap and drool was trailing down your chin and neck. “look at you. so fucking messy… atta girl. deep and sloppy. just how i like it.” you whimpered, her thrusts getting harsher. you were sure your voice would be fucked up tomorrow morning. “fuck.” you gasped for air when she pulled back, cock plopping out of your lips, spit connecting you to the silicone. her thumb caressed your bottom lip, pulling from it to push inside your mouth. you suckled on it, your tongue playing with it. she bit down on her own, and before you knew it she was on top of you, and her tongue was inside your mouth. you moaned, thighs spreading open for her to get in between them, your hands on her hair. tugging and making her groan. “i’m so fucking horny right now, you have no idea. you drive me fucking crazy.” your back arched as her hands cupped your breasts. “best fucking tits ever. can’t wait to see them bouncing as you ride my dick, baby. you’re gonna look so pretty dicked down, all full of me.” you whined, her lips on your nipples, sucking and kissing, and bruising your skin.
“ellie…” you moaned her name.
“get this off.” she groaned, pulling from your camisole up your body, throwing it aside to find you completely bare underneath her. “fuck, baby.” her eyes fell to your soaked cunt.
“they’d just get on the way.” you muttered, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. your hair was a mess, and your eyes were glazed over. you looked like a fucking wet dream.
“so fucking needy…” you screamed when her fingers dived in between your slick folds, fingertips soaking wet. “look at her, she’s so ready for me…” she smirked, circling your clit before pushing one of her fingers inside, letting out lewd squelches every time she’d push it in and out of your cunt. “you hear that? she’s begging for it.”
“fuck.” you moaned as she added her ring finger, curling them to hit your g spot.
“right there, huh?“
“ellie please, need your cock…”
“be patient baby, gotta open you up on my fingers first, don’t want it to hurt.”
“i do. i want it to hurt.” you whispered against her lips, and something crossed through her eyes.
“yeah? want it to hurt baby? want me to split you open with my cock?” you nodded, your back arching as she fucked you with her fingers harder, deeper. “of course you do. you want nothing more than to be a little fuck doll, don’t you? wanna go dumb on my dick. want me to fuck you stupid, hm?”
“yes please ellie, please…” she groaned, pulling her fingers out of you to grab the strap and dip it’s tip in between your folds. it was already lubed up with your spit. you shivered, whimpering as your hips pushed against it, needing more.
“what a good girl. asking for it so nicely. i might as well just give it to you, huh?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she suddenly trusted inside, stretching you out ‘till you felt her in your gut. you were breathless… it hurt, but it hurt so good. “thaat’s it. nice and deep.” she swore she could feel it, the way you were clenching around the silicone as she slowly pulled back, watching your lips engulfing the strap. “fuck baby, so tight…” it was as if you didn’t want to let her go, swallowing her inside. “you’re gonna milk my cock dry.” you moaned when she pushed back inside, the tip hitting your g spot.
your legs surrounded her waist, nails digging on her back, pulling at her shirt to completely undress her. you two were now a tangled naked mess, hips thrusting against the other, moans and grunts filling the room. you two were needy for each other, desperate. she was fucking into you faster now, lips on your neck, on your chest, hands playing with your nipples, fondling your breasts. you were a disaster of moans and ‘more, ellie more’s.
“so good, oh fuck baby. so good for me.” she groaned, the back of the strap rubbing her clit in just the perfect way. “my pretty girl just needed me to fuck her dumh, huh? i can do that. gonna make this pussy feel so good it’ll cry for me.” you whimpered, feeling your orgasm approaching with each harsh thrust, they reached and hit your g spot perfectly. she always fucked you so good.
“ellie, fuck, just like that, shit!” you were a babbling mess, tripping over your words as your back arched.
the room was filling up with the lewd sounds your pussy made fitting her cock inside you. you were so wet it was pooling and making a mess of your sheets.
“just take it baby. be a good girl and take my cock.” she grunted.
“i’m cumming. i’m gonna cum!” you cried out, and her fingers moved to rub on your clit fast and harsh circles to push you closer to your release.
“that’s it. cum for me.” you screamed as it hit you, ellie desperately fucking you to extend it. your moans being cut off by each harsh thrust. “fuck yeah. scream for me doll.”
“ellie!” your back arched, your thighs shaking.
“atta girl. cream my cock baby. give it to me.”
once you came down from it, she was kissing your neck, sucking bruises that you’d proudly wear tomorrow. you moaned, hands on her hair as she slowly stopped her thrusts, groaning. oh fuck she had been so close… her clit was throbbing.
you tugged from her hair when you felt her rock against you, the tip of the strap kissing your g spot, making you whimper.
“give me one more.” she begged. “just one more, baby.” you moaned, nodding, and before you knew it she was back at fucking you.
but you wanted to please her. “let me…” you breathed out, and soon enough ellie was on her back, you straddling her with her cock deep inside your cunt. she watched as you begun to rock her hips, the back of the strap bumping against her clit, easily sliding in between her beyond soaked folds.
“oh fuck.” she moaned, her hands finding your ass to guide your movements. “just like that. fuck me. fuck my cock.” you whined, hands on her abdomen to brace yourself.
“so deep… you’re so deep.” you whimpered. her eyes were on your tits, how they bounced with every roll of your hips, with every jump. she groaned. you looked like a fucking angel, and she was so close… you could feel it too, the high of another orgasm approaching, still sensitive due to your first one.
“pussy so good… she’s swallowing me right up, huh? she loves it. loves my cock.” she babbled, far too gone to think straight.
“ellie, i’m gonna cum…” you moaned, and her hands came up to your breasts, pinching your nipples. your clit was rubbing against the base of her strap.
“yeah? gonna cum again, doll? gonna give me another one?” you nodded. “of course you are, such a good girl for me. come on honey. let me see you fall apart.” it didn’t take long before you were screaming, creaming all over her cock. your cum was in a white ring on its base. at the sight ellie couldn’t help but follow, moaning and whimpering as she came, guiding your hips once again to fuck the two of you through it. “fuckfuckfuck…”
after that ellie had you suck clean her cock.
and maybe her pussy too.
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starryeyedjanai · 11 days
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Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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nitewingbabi · 8 months
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↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth
2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.
‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 
Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 
It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 
Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 
Unknown Number +1**********
➤ quiet night? 
➤ parents aren’t home. 
➤ neighbours are out of town. 
You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 
Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 
Unknown Number +***********
➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 
➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 
You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 
Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 
Unknown Caller 
You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 
“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 
“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 
“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 
“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 
“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 
“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 
You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 
You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 
“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 
“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 
Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 
It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 
Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 
“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 
The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 
His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 
Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 
It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 
Unkown Number +**********
➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 
➤ leave your window unlocked
➤ i know your parents wont be home
➤ hope you like it rough princess
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Note
Hey!
So I’ve been thinking about this idea with Lando and reader and since YOURE SOO GODLY GOOD AT THIS I thought that maybe it’ll fit your taste.
So reader and Lando were out and about, could be sth official like black tie or sth and had a quarrel that got pretty heated. They have to come back together so they were silent and when they finally reached home and started getting ready for bed Lando just chose to sleep on the couch.
Reader has been waiting for him despite the fight and when she noticed that he wants to sleep on the couch she’s like “I don’t want to be one of those couples, just come back”. They don’t have to resolve it immediately i don’t know… just do whatever you want here!
Can be fluff or smut, I leave it up to you! Hope it’s fine!!
Cheers xx
We Are Not Being That Cliche - LN
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Y/n can practically glimpses at her brain when she rolls her eyes hearing Lando's jealous rant which is only ruining their night more than he did when he initially told the guy who was talking to her to fuck off.
The man was literally talking about how much he loves F1 and she's almost certain he was trying to use her as a means to get a foot in with befriending Lando and other drivers. Not that it would've worked and if he called that flirting he really needed to work on his game.
"Lando, for the last time I was trying to be polite to someone who was clearly a fan. Which by the way, you completely obliterated my efforts by coming over, grabbing me like a possessive arsehole and telling him to fuck off if he was going to look at me with those eyes-which by the way, what the hell were you even talking about?" Y/n groans, not so much mad but just annoyed and frustrated with the man. "You are being a dick."
"Maybe if you didn't stand there and entertain it I would have to be an arsehole who steps in to step guys from flirting with you." Lando argues then huffing. "I'm your boyfriend, I'd be a piece of shit for a boyfriend if I just stood there watching some strange guy flirt with you."
"Oh yeah because the way you're acting right now isn't coming across as shitty." Y/n comments sarcastically rolling her eyes for what feelings like the millionth time. She might actually strain her eye if she keeps going.
“I’m being shitty? Excuse me for being upset that my girlfriend gave even the slightest bit of tolerance towards a man who was so obviously flirting with you.” Lando grumbles adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as he slows down and parks up. “I’d never do that to you and trust me, there’s plenty of women who try that I wouldn’t dare put time into.”
“Wow. You’re really going to do that?” Y/n questions as they glare at each other. “Fine, be like that. I’m so fucking over tonight anyway.”
She climbs out, slamming the door and storming off leaving Lando to move at a slower pace since he’s certainly not chasing her to apologise. He stands by what he said. So actually he even waits until she's out of sight before he gets out because honestly he's not going to argue all the way up to the apartment.
By the time he gets up to the apartment, she's locked herself in the bathroom with the shower running. He could be almost certain that she's showering for two reasons. One; because someone did spill a drink on her earlier in the night. Two; she wants to cry without him being a witness to it.
He's more annoyed at himself that he's put his own girlfriend in tears, that's really the last thing he wants.
"Baby, please open the door!" Lando exclaims with a heavy sigh.
"Go away, Lando!"
The thickness of her voice gives away his prediction of her crying in there is completely accurate but he's not about to shout that through the door.
Lando sighs dropping his head back before moving to grab some clothes, changing out his suit before he moves into the living room. He knows he's fucked up, better to let her cool off and just calm down for the night.
Y/n comes out the bathroom trying to focus on just getting into bed and sleeping as fast as possible.
However, one annoying thing about Lando is that he's done a very effective job at is making her always need him there to sleep well. Especially when she knows he's there to sleep alongside her. So while she tosses and turns trying to convince herself that she can and will fall asleep without him there.
Nothing is working.
When she checks her phone she groans seeing actually it's been 2 hours of trying to sleep and failing miserably. But something strikes her that is much more important.
Where the hell is Lando?
She heard movement around the apartment, so unless someone broke in then he is there. Somewhere.
After an internal feud she throws the covers off and stands up marching through the apartment till she spots him and frowns, her anger fizzling out as she sees him sitting on the seat, the sofa set up with a pillow and blanket as he looks at his phone.
"Lando?" Y/n murmurs making him look up still looking like he's a little annoyed. "Don't sleep out here...we're better than that. Please."
"I don't want to sleep in the same bed if you're mad at me."
"I...I am mad, but please. Come on, we are not being that cliche that you're going to sleep on the couch." Y/n sighs making him look at her. "I'm not apologising till you do though."
"...I am sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that." Lando admits as he stands up smiling a little since he is definitely feeling some sort of what that she's came out to get him. "I thought you were really going to let me stay out there."
"I didn't realise you were staying on the sofa till I couldn't get to sleep." Y/n murmurs while leading them to the bedroom while Lando grins moving to pick her up, spinning her till she's facing him before picking her up and pulling her legs up around his waist. "I didn't mean-"
"You can't sleep when I'm not there?" Lando questions making her look at him with an unimpressed expression for a moment.
"Don't get cocky about it."
Lando's expression shows that's already too late for that. He's already very much cocky about it and by the time she goes to open her mouth, she finds herself placed down and his weight lands gently on top of her making her grunt a little.
"Just go to sleep. It's been a long day and I really want this day to be over already." Lando mutters gently, trying to make sure he doesn't sound annoyed or still upset about the argument and even that caused it.
"If it counts for anything, I think you looked amazing in your suit...I was ready to rip it off of you." Y/n whispers with an undertone to her voice which earns his attention a bit as he looks up at her with slightly darkened eyes. "How about we make up in the morning?"
"I can definitely agree to that." Lando nods moving up to catch her in a very hot and heavy kiss then moving back down to lie with his head on her stomach to just sleep half on top of her.
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marvelandponder · 1 year
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one amazing thing about the Owl House finale is that it finally contextualized for me one of the central metaphors of the show. Spoilers for the series finale Watching and Dreaming ahead.
we good? no one spoiling themselves? beauty
for a long time now, I thought we had a pretty standard coming-of-age metaphor dichotomized by the show's central antagonists. you've got your protestant witch hunter Belos who introduces a maturity and ugliness to Luz's narrative; he clearly represents a particular, restricting form of adulthood, and just when Belos becomes his most threatening, boom, enter the Collector, Luz's dangerously naïve inner child to ruin all her development on the Boiling Isles. Seems simple enough
what I didn't anticipate was just how specific and personal their roles in the story actually are to Luz once you have the full context from the series finale
look again
this story - this whole series - is about the grief that a neurodivergent kid experienced at a young age, introducing the cruelty of loss and adulthood before she was ready to handle it. and, how to reclaim a more whole understanding of herself as she rebuilds her life with people who get her
Belos is designed to infect the titan carcass like a disease. a cancer. it's super goddamn significant that the titan is King's dad (King, who became Luz's younger brother). they set up Belos not just to be another fascist kids' cartoon villain (although yeah, he do be doing some of that), but to specifically become a force that oppressed the weirdness from the one place that understood Luz. the Iles. the dad. And by the end of the story, Belos's goopy body-horror isn't just for show, he's just like the cancer or other terminal disease that took Luz's dad from her
he's the thing Luz hasn't processed in season 1 that comes in at the end like a warning. he's the threat that forces Luz to grapple with her own humanity, feeling somehow (often completely unjustifiably) harmful to those around her, through the grief she doesn't want to be a burden or the weirdness (neurodivergence) others don't understand. he's the force that says there is something wrong with you, Luz, give in to your grief, this is what you can't face. this is the lie you've been telling to those closest to you: that you're okay
then you have the Collector. (notable that he's a collector, and we see Luz's mom and dad had quite the collection of nerdy memorabilia)
the Collector is the child too young to understand death. Too young to understand consequences, or why their playmates don't feel like playing anymore with someone so weird and maybe a bit too involved in their own world. The Collector is Luz's inner child, that kid we see right before the "worst week ever" — the one who didn't and couldn't understand what was about to happen even as it was going down. unapologetically weird, a bit destructive and short-sighted, but wholly colourful, wholly themselves. that's why the Collector wants to live out Luz's adventures, but without all the depth. just the fun escapist fantasy
but don't think I forgot the internal conflict! :D
because Camila's role also gets an added depth too: Camila was framed at the outset of the series as someone who loved Luz, but wanted her to fit inside a box that she just didn't. later, Luz completely misconstrued her mom's breakdown when she learned that Luz chose to run away. as many people have pointed out by now, Luz misremembers the actual dialogue that Camila says: Camila only wanted her daughter safe, not to lose her. Luz meanwhile felt like she had to choose to destroy this part of herself, or give up her connection with her mom altogether
but we know now Camila actually deeply relates to Luz. she may not understand Luz's fascination with horrific things like on the boiling isles (very akin to a kid getting more grim hobbies in the wake of a death, like Luz's taxidermy), but she loves Luz for who she is. all of her. she never wanted Luz to change
Luz was the one framing the central conflict of the show as go back to her mom or stay in the boiling isles. Luz was the one who felt like she had to punish herself by rejecting the one place where she felt like herself. once Camila realizes what's been going on, and how deeply connected it is to the loss of Luz's dad, she knows Luz is trying to make a "very bad choice for herself." And she won't let that happen (what a great mom!!)
But Luz does have one real choice ahead of her
because of the inner child who once again has to confront death (this time, Luz's own), Luz is able to connect with a father figure, the titan, the one place she feels understood. in the form of a power-up that makes her into a fantasy witch straight out of the Good Witch Azura, the one place she got joy after that huge loss, the titan gives her the strength to face the cancer—a force draining everything good in her life from her and making her question she deserves it in the first place—but only if she can choose herself
and that means choosing happiness, choosing found family, choosing love and friendship and self-discovery in the place she feels most at home! every bond she's forged, everything she's worked for, it all comes down to choosing to face grief and move on in life with weirdos who stick together.
hoot hoot, that's some good metaphor
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bluexiao · 1 year
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#taking off your ring in the middle of a fight
–pretty self-explanatory// this can also mean a promise ring or engagement ring that they gave to you
CHARACTERS. Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Diluc, Il Dottore, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader
THEMES. angst, arguments, slight crack on one of them (guess who), most has no comfort, some has comfort
NOTES. i haven’t been posting multi-hc’s have i? well, here yall go~
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ZHONGLI, at first, failed to notice it until he opened his eyes and turned your way.
It was just an argument, all couples do have one. All normal relationships have such situations, after all. Yet it was beyond him to see the band over the table, where you had just been moments ago, only to leave him to ponder with his thoughts all alone.
He quickly turns and follows you to wherever you might’ve gone, “love?” he calls out with a full voice? “Love?” And a broken one after that when he sees you on the bed, folding clothes on your own.
“Are you… leaving?” He hesitated, clearing his throat and prompting you to look up and meet his eyes.
He braces himself for your answer, brave enough to accept your answer, whatever it may be. He wouldn’t stop you—you have every right to leave, after all.
“What? No, of course not, what made you think-” then your gaze trails down to your fingers upon seeing the ring on his palm, instantly reaching out and taking it from him, “Oh-was that? I was only… I took it off because I had to wash my hands to fold the clothes.” You slowly explained, realizing the intention behind his question as you do so.
“Oh, beloved… I am never leaving you,” you stood up and he was the one who stepped forward and received you in his arms, wrapping you and him sighing out heavily once he felt your body against his.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
XIAO felt the way his knees buckled as he zeroes into your hands, now holding onto the ring that was once wrapped around one of your fingers. That same ring that he had created out of the love from the depths of his heart, a ring that symbolized not only his feelings but also his pledge to never sever the bond you have.
Did you not… want it anymore?
Was the first thought that plagued his mind.
Perhaps… you had finally grown tired of him after all that he has done. After all, who was he to expect you’d always be there for him, when he had clearly not done the same.
He couldn’t really blame you at this point.
He had just ruined the only good thing in his life—and maybe for the better… for you.
Just as he was about to turn around and walk away without a word, he slips back into reality and away from his thoughts on the warmth that attaches itself on his cheeks—a familiar warmth that never fails to pull him out of the darkness and into your presence.
“Darling, shh… what’s wrong? Hey, Xiao? Talk to me, please,” the tenderness of your touch and your soft voice envelops his mind and he couldn’t help but lean into your palm further, placing his gloved hands on top of yours and relishing them on his skin. How they were enough to calm him down makes him even more… greedy—how can he live without you now? The mere thought of it scares him, the old XIAO may not be able to admit it, but the new one after you came into the picture would.
“Please… don’t leave me,” despite this, his words left his lips in a hushed tone, slipping out like a whisper meant for your ears only—his weakness that he never let anyone else see, even his own god.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
TIGHNARI heard your scoff before he saw it. He frowns at the mere sight of your empty fingers, and the glare that’s ever so present in your face.
He marches forward your way and you stood your ground, ready to be hurt by his usual sharo words only to-
“Are you seriously removing our ring because of a petty argument?”
You immediately glance down and before you can sputter out a response, he takes a hold of your hand and slips the ring back himself, back to where it once was—where it belongs. Once you had glanced at him again, he had this relieved look on his face and the twitching on his ears and tail that you didn’t bother to point out.
Was that… a big deal to him?
Your own harsh words died down before they even got out, realizing that there really was no point to continue it as you heaved out a sigh.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
SCARAMOUCHE freezes–not literally, but still–and the ice melts almost suddenly, burning with the intensity of his glare.
“And what do you think you’re doing?”
The thing with SCARAMOUCHE is that he takes—he takes what he wants and he will get it either way. With you, he doesn’t understand how you get your way and he becomes pleased with just seeing you smile.
He just wants to see you smile again.
And that ring on your finger.
But both of them are not really present at this very moment.
“You’re just like the others,” he begins to spat when you respond to his question, then he looks away, knowing that you’re going to leave would only make him regret in glancing through your eyes—one that always understood him well, turns out to be just not too different, “You’re going to betray me, after all.”
And now that he said those words aloud it only dawned on him of the intensity the burden was—how much the truth weighed on his shoulders, just like the several other truths he had kept out of the light ever since your arrival.
His shoulders shook and he cursed at the gods once again.
If only… if only he can replace them, and he’ll never have to suffer like this.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
KAZUHA only got home when it happened.
He left in quite a rush before he sailed off with The Crux, thus leaving you with the argument between the two of you still in the air. And sure, he still did send you letters per usual, the only difference was… you have left him unanswered.
And now that he’s home, he did not know if the sight of the empty house, unopened letters, and the ring left on the counter were something he could have not been surprised with as it was something very expected and reasonable enough.
Feeling stuffy despite the emptiness of the place made him go out and decide to find you. And in his course of doing so, he saw you walking the same way.
“Kazuha… you’re home,” if it were from your displeased tone, he would have already left with the unspoken question answered in his mind. But he stood his ground and made his way towards your form.
“Oh! You found my ring!” You spoke before he can even confront you, and in spite of his surprise upon your actions, upon reaching for your ring, he slips his hands to your waist and wraps your form tightly.
“K-Kazu?” Hearing you stutter even made him more delighted and relieved that his negative thoughts weren’t the reality that he was into.
“I thought you left me… please don’t scare me like that ever again, dove.”
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
“If you are leaving me, you do not need to slip out your ring, you just have to say it out loud. Proclaim it, even!”
IL DOTTORE watches as you looked at him with a bewildered look, eyes wide open and jaw slack, “W-what? I only-“ only for you to purse your lips shut and look away. If you had wanted to say something else, it already flies away like dust and never to be seen again.
“Fine! I am leaving you! Happy now? Well, you certainly would,” there was a venom in your voice that no one around him dares to even whisper a peep about—only you. Only you get to treat him like this and be left unscathed.
Even now.
Even now as he watches you leave and thinks how much your words were very untrue, he can never really admit it out loud, could he?
Certainly not.
He glances down at the ring that once laid very gently on your finger—on your warm skin, and now rests upon the cold ground.
Certainly… not.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
DILUC had always admired your eyes, your strong gaze that had crumbled the walls on DILUC’s high walls.
“Love…” his hands reached out to you first before you could go and step out, and despite the glare that he received from you, “shall we talk about this first? Please don’t-“ leave me. The words died down as he stared even more into your eyes.
But… you have the right to leave, don’t you?
A voice in his mind told him that he should let go—it was your freedom to break things off with him.
But another voice told him that you were not as unreasonable as that.
Right?
The only problem was which voice he should follow.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
CYNO failed to process the circumstance as quickly as the others, but as soon as he did, you have already walked out of the room and he was left standing there, with your ring–the ring that he once gave you and had never seen you took off until now–on the bedside table.
A sting on his fingertips as he reached out for the golden band, traveling through his arms and to his chest, where he certainly felt the pang that made his heart almost ache—why so? What does this ring symbolize that he hates seeing it on your fingers and not on his palm?
However, before he could interrogate you, you came back to the room and looked at him with a raised brow, “Why are you staring at my ring like that?” And was the first one to ask the question instead.
He frowns and asks back, “Why did you take it off?’
You sigh heavily and rub your forehead, closing your eyes in frustration, “I’m not in the mood to argue with you again, Cyno. Can you just… give me my ring back? Please?”
Upon sensing your emotions and realizing the situation he wordlessly went and followed what you said, only to take your hand and carefully slide the ring on one of your fingers, feeling the sense of contentment wash through his chest.
You wanted to stay angry at him for not even perceiving his mistake, but the gentle rub of his thumb on your hand made you want to forget it and let it die down…
For now.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
AYATO was reminded of his oath, the same oath he had declared to you once he had first slipped the ring on your finger.
But seeing you remove it on your own accord made him feel a pang on his chest, almost akin to the one he felt when he first received news of his mother’s death, of his father’s… and now…
He remained silent and for a rare time in his life, he stopped to contemplate. He had always been known for having the mind to make quick but efficient plans, reasons, and words that would not only be able to hide his true intentions but also to force out someone else’s. Being on edge is nothing new to him. Even this relationship was something he had to fight for and survived with his rational mind.
And now, everything crumbles and thaws like thin ice, forcing him in the cold water that he has always been accustomed to but never fully got to soak in. The truth of the inevitable.
Maybe soulmates really were something only her mother and father could have.
Because even if he found you, he couldn’t even make a way to keep you and his oath to you.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALHAITHAM didn’t care about rings at all, not until he had met you and felt the significance of such a thing.
And so, when he saw the ring out of your finger—the same ring that he bought for a ton of Mora that he could have invested on something else but since it was something that your eyes laid upon and brightened over its sight, he still bought it—he knew something had gone wrong.
“Y/n- Sweetheart… let’s talk about this first.”
Of course, he was also thinking about the Mora he spent—only a little… but he also worried what could’ve made oyu possibly react in such a way?
Or is he just… insensitive like you had said? Insensitive enough he could figure out a lot of things but couldn’t figure you out.
Your uniqueness is indeed one of your charms—and his very weakness.
“We shouldn’t break up over this, Y/n-“
“Who said I was breaking up with you?” You bite back, despite accepting the gentle hold of his hand on your wrist.
“Your ring… Why did you- Oh.” He stares dumbfoundead when you began to wipe the band with your clothes and proceed to slip it back.
“What? I wiped it off because I washed my hand.”
“I… I see.” He clears his throat, looking away.
Right. His weakness indeed.
┌───────── ·  · ��� ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALBEDO would not be as much affected. Of course, he did notice how you took it off and placed it on his laboratory table, before walking off completely. Notice the way your eyes watered and your teeth biting your lower lip in frustration, your heavy breathing and your stifled cries.
He saw them all.
The ring was customary, he had heard it from his colleagues, and indeed, you deserved one—you deserve the best, and he proceeded to give it to you.
But the sight of the ring alone made him realize just how much he had been swallowed by greed. Far too greedy to give you a ring and continue to break his promise nonetheless. Hurting you without meaning to and trapping you in a relationship made of the wholehearted love you give him and the pieces that he decides to give you in return.
ALBEDO wasn’t affected by the ring.
But it did make him realize how much he had affected you.
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Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Normal People Things (dark!141 x fem!Reader)
Soap drags you to his place to meet with his lieutenant. It goes as smoothly as you can imagine. AO3 CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation
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The ride is short – shorter than you anticipated. You don’t know if you wanted it to be longer if you needed more time to sort out the thoughts flying in your head – you feel numb, empty, hollow, all of those stupid words for stupid expressions because nothing can quite describe the dread settling in your stomach. 
Your throat burns, your makeup is ruined, you are shaking like a kitten left under a rain – you listen to some light music, something you could hear in the car of a guy you’d probably be interested in. Classic rock, some melodic sensations, if you squint and cover your mouth, you can almost relax and stop the desire to puke. You felt mostly sober when the Scot was pushing his dick in your mouth, the horror of the situation forcing your mind to clear up a little – but now it’s foggy again, blurry and messy every time you open your eyes just to see the same man on the front seat, smiling every time he catches you looking at him through the mirror. 
He broke your phone, obviously – snatched it from your hands and broke it in two with horrifying ease. He kissed you after this, cold lips on your forehead. You were crying, or so you think – you were crying this whole ordeal, your face feeling wet and burning as he was fucking laughing, trying to get you to talk to him. You wouldn’t, even if your throat weren’t hoarse and hurting from the fucking he gave you. 
“Want to grab somethin’ to eat, bonnie? I know a bloody lovely place, eh?”
You didn’t respond, the thought of taking something from a guy who eligibly kidnapped you made you sick. Besides, it’s not like food will do you any good – your stomach is spinning from a combination of fear and alcohol, and even though you’d love to ruin this pretty car, you don’t want to evocate even more negative feelings from its owner. He hasn’t hurt you too much yet – no bruises, no broken bones or blood, and you don’t want to provoke him further. 
“Don’t cry so much, I didn’t even fucked ye. I’ll get ye off later, aye?” 
You don’t want him to ever touch you again – despite that disgusting, burning feeling on your panties, the way your little cunt is fucking soaked because his voice is gruff, his face is pretty, and he almost touched you in a way that wasn’t making you sick – it all dropped now, thankfully, your mind is reminded of just how horrible he really is. “Just sit yer wee arse here, lassie. Lt and I will take care of ye” You almost fell asleep when he finally stopped in front of…a building. You don’t know what you were expecting – an evil lair, maybe some grimy base where monsters like him are being made. Not a rather normal apartment building, maybe a bit too scary and dark for your liking – you probably wouldn’t want to live here or even be around this place at night, but, ultimately, it doesn’t look like an evil base. 
This only makes your condition worse – you start sobbing again, useless and pathetic begging as the Scot drags you out of the car, supporting your wobbly legs and making sure you won’t fall down to the ground as he gently caresses your body. He is too fucking soft, too gentle – even his grip on your wrists isn’t bruising, he has one hand on your waist, gently pushing you towards the building. 
***
Ghost wasn’t expecting guests today. He just got out of another deployment, a few days from the previous mission, ready to get back any time if it weren’t for the fact they all deserved a little retreat – yet, he was planning to go with alcohol, maybe some lowly jerk-off sessions with Johnny and shitton of cigarettes to pass the day. What he wasn’t expecting is his sergeant spamming the 141 group chat – shitty idea, really, too much liability and security problems, despite all the measures Price took to encrypt everything – with pictures of cute, crying girl being all adorable, scared and fucking defenseless. 
No one in 141 is a good person – it comes with the job, really, if you’re willing to be a good guy with a gun, there will always be a moment when the lines become blurred. Dragging a civilian girl to their damp apartment isn’t a life-or-death decision made in the field, but they all deserve a bit of sweetness after a mission, right? 
They can be good for you. Simon isn’t sure there is anything in his heart that can still be declared as soft and fuzzy feelings, but he is willing to try and find it, even if for a night. They won’t be letting you go, obviously, Lasswell won’t cover their sorry asses in case you’re getting out with a marvelous surviving story, so you all would have a lot of time to get to know each other. 
— Thought you’d bring food, Johnny. 
— I did. Not my fault they gave up sweets as freebies. 
— How is she? 
— Quiet. Our lassie is a smart girl, eh? Didn’t even fight too much. 
— Fuckin’ hell. Thought they stopped making those a while ago. 
— Good thing I found her, aye? 
Ghost stands at the door of their shared apartment, staring at adorable scared you. You’re shaking in his sergeant’s hands, poor thing, too fucking terrified to even run – you have mascara smeared all over your face, drool and cum on your lips, and he drags a finger to your mouth, wiping it all away. 
You instinctively suck on his finger, the natural obedience coming with a very simple “please, don’t hurt me” plea – and he fucking knows you will be so good for them. He is dragging you inside, allowing Soap to push the takeout bag on the small table in the kitchen while Simon is dealing with all of those silly clothes you’re wrapped in. 
You beg him to stop, but, at this point, even you don’t think he will. All ounces of hope were destroyed already. You aren’t sure what you want anymore – maybe you want to just lay down and sleep, hoping that they will stop tormenting you. The ache between your legs only grows stronger when Ghost drags you to the bedroom, his strong, bulky hands holding you so perfectly – so firmly, you can’t even wish to move away. 
The mattress creaks under the combined weight of your bodies. You roll to the side immediately, your brain is foggy from alcohol again – you don’t even register his rough, firm hands as he is slowly dragging the ruined dress from your body, revealing the underwear you spend so much time choosing and buying. You liked the combination – you wanted to wear something nice today, even if no one would have seen it. 
Now you have this horrifying man in a skull balaclava and harsh hands tugging on the straps of your bra. You sob, head spinning and vomit picking in your throat. The man puts a hand between your shoulder blades, just enough pressure to make you grounded – to remind you that there is no way out, even in your mind. 
— Calm down, love. Won’t hurt ya. 
You choke on a laugh – they are literally going to fucking assault you, you were already forced to suck on Soap’s dick, and yet, this man is playing gentleman with you while undressing you at the same time. You cry again, your tears met with a soft hand on your cheek – checking on you. 
God, you want to drown in this affection, no matter how artificial it is. 
— L…let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone. 
— Too late for that, eh? Johnny don’t have any bloody manners. 
Scot screams from the kitchen, making you wince from the sound. 
“Bloody hell, Lt, I ken ye were fine with draggin’ our lassie here a minute ago!“ You sobs intensify, and you never felt more fragile than before – just one loud sound is enough to break you. The British guy drags you into an uncomfortably tight embrace almost immediately – you’d say you’re almost thankful for the moment of affection, but he snaps your bra a second later. 
— Sorry, love. Will buy you a new one. 
His fingertips are rough on your skin, a contrast that sends shivers down your spine. You whine, feeling stranded like this – feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick from the moisture in your panties. You hate yourself for being this touch starved, but the man is as rough as he is mysterious – and by the look of his figure, perfectly sculpted hands, and a healthy amount of tummy that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating, he might be up to your tastes. It's too bad you don’t have a choice anyway. 
— Don’t touch me. 
— Can’t help it. You’re pretty. 
You feel like you are going to have a fucking panic attack. This is too much – you feel sick, you feel mortified, you are getting your hands out of his hold with the power of surprise and dragging them closer to your mouth, trying to contain the involuntary bile collecting in your throat. You gag, finally feeling all the alcohol you took, getting back to bite you in the ass. 
Before you could say or try anything else, before you could even be bent over, trying to calm yourself down before you dirty everything in this fine-looking bedroom, Brit already dragged you to the bathroom, allowing you to look at the tile floor and white ceramics while you were vomiting your guts, cum, and anxiety out of your stomach. 
It took you a few minutes before you could get anything out – and another few while you were just holding the toilet seat, not even caring about how unsanitary it was. You feel like you’re going to die, the throbbing in your head only intensifying as you could almost feel dropping out of conscience. God, you will never drink again – even though it’s a promise that will break you right after you break it. 
— Bloody hell, love. Easy. Easy. 
— F…fuck you. 
— You will, love. Promise. 
The skull mask guy was rubbing your back the whole time, a motion you didn’t expect from a kidnapper, rapist and a fucking arsehole. He gently took your hair out of the way, he slowly rubbed calming gestures in your aching muscles, and you leaned into his touch, your state was finally reaching the breaking point – you were longing for the soft touch of your captor, not even caring that he is just as awful as his friends, rummaging through various bags somewhere in the other room. 
You cry, the depths of the situation finally getting to you – and he drags you into a tight hug after wiping your mouth with a paper towel, throwing it away before you could feel sick from the smell again. 
He talks you through it with his grovely voice and deep accent, and you can’t help but lean in and listen. 
— Calm down. Can’t have you panicking on my cock. 
— D…don’t touch me. Please. 
— You need this, love. We’re not the worst people who could have picked ya up. 
— You’re a bunch of fucking ra…
He stops you immediately – holds your hand, and drags you back to the bedroom almost too rough, dropping you to the bed before you can manage to scramble your legs and writhe away from his touch. You sob again, crying even more – you don’t have makeup now. Thankfully, everything was mostly wiped out by the paper towels and a mix of your tears, but you still feel horrible. Laying on the soft bed in your soaked panties made you feel like a slut, and this is not the feeling you were expecting out of this night. You just fucking wanted to go home and sleep the alcohol out, not…this. 
— We’ll take care of you. Be a good girl for us, and I will make Johnny pay for not getting you off, eh? 
You can hear the Scot again, emerging from the kitchen in an apron – to your surprise. He looks too domestic, too clean, his hair is a bit disheveled after your little attempt at breaking out, and you can see the resemblance between him and a very, very sad and polite dog. If he had a tail, it would be curled between his knees, a look of genuine guilt almost making you believe that he wanted to apologize for being so forceful. 
— Steamin’ Jesus, I tried to be a gentleman. Didn’t want to scare our lassie too much. 
— She’s shivering. Poor girl, was Johnny this scary? 
— It’s yer mask. Wee things always scared of those. 
They both laugh, clearly not taking your tears seriously. You curl into the bed, trying to protect your exposed breasts and midriff as much as possible. You don’t want to be touched, you feel dirty and used already, but their attentive gaze is making your skin burn and crawl from the feelings you never thought you knew before. It’s a horrible situation, but somehow, you are almost flattered because of how affectionate they both look for someone as insignificant as you. 
Maybe, it’s your brain trying to protect itself from further trauma. Maybe, if you’d lie to yourself long enough, you could pretend you want this. 
Ghost looks at you, drinking the drowning panic in your eyes. You’re so pretty, so helpless, he doesn’t even want to think of what could happen to you if Johnny weren’t here to pick you up. You’d be murdered in cold blood, left laying on the side of the street after a group of some perverts would be done with you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you deserve a proper help and calmness of living with them – and he knows that once he is done with bringing his first orgasm with your body, you will learn to love it too. Maybe not at first, but the seeds would be there. 
He tries to be on his best behavior as he slowly drags his body between your legs, catching your ankles once you tried to kick him. You’re like a kitten, growling and hissing, clawing on his hands like it didn’t turn him on even more – he pins you under his weight easily, enjoying the audience of Soap already palming himself through his pants. Fucking pervert – he already came in your mouth not so long ago, but the lieutenant knows that given a chance, his sergeant will break this girl for another three rounds in a row. They can’t have that, right? 
— Calm, love. Don’t make it harder for yourself. 
— Stop…please, just…god, wait, I…
It’s such empty words, he knows you can’t calm yourself down – you’re a pretty girl, really, you’re cute and adorable, and you don’t deserve his firm hand taking off your lace panties, but he knows that you will love it after a few more times. You’re dripping already, a combination of manhandling and previous foreplay making you adorably weak for them. 
— Will make you nice and wet, yeah? Such a pretty cunt, bound to give it a taste. 
— W..wait, please, don’t, really, j…just let me…
— Quiet, love. You’ll fuckin’ love it. 
Ghost drags his fingers straight into your folds, spreading them as quickly as possible. He would love to give you more time to adjust, but he was hard ever since Johnny made that goddamn call, and patience isn’t his best quality when on leave – he needs you in all ways you can handle. On your back, preferably, he wants to see that pretty face of yours when he will bottom himself in your cunt and make you squeal. Maybe play with your ass for a little – if you’re going to be the team’s favorite girl, they need all of your holes ready to be used. 
You squeak from surprise when he drags his mask on the upper half of his face, revealing his mouth. Clean-shaved chin, a bit of uneven blonde stubble, strong jawline – he smirks because he knows he is quite the opposite of ugly, that even after all the burns and scars, he is still that rugged type of handsome that ladies in pubs just love to touch. He wonders if you’re more of a typical pretty boy type – he wonders if you’d like Gaz as much as you love Simon. And you fucking adore him by the sight of your wet pussy almost dripping on his tongue. 
You beg him to stop when he slides his tongue in, the feeling of his harsh fingers stretching you only making everything hotter, less bearable. You don’t want to like it, but he is handsome and strong, he is whispering sweet compliments into your pussy, sliding sloppy kisses all over your folds, not forgetting to pay attention to your throbbing clit. 
“Such a pretty cunt for us. What was the last time she got so much attention?” 
He kisses you down there sloppily, adding another finger almost immediately to really make you feel that burn. You’re crying from stimulation, it’s been a while since the last time you had anything so heated – you just want him to stop, to proceed, to let you go, and also to never stop kissing your pussy and collecting all the juice that’s been flowing from you. You make the bedsheets under your ass wet, and Ghost just can’t help but stretch you a bit more, enjoying the sound of your confused, almost pained squeals. 
“Stop crying, love. I could have taken your arse instead.”
He can only imagine how adorable you’d look, crying from his cock in your plump rear. He is by no means small, and the thought of tearing your pretty arse just a little, making you cry from being filled so much, makes him even harder. He needs to be patient, can’t break your rear before Captain gets here – but god, isn’t patience the hardest virtue. 
“S’good for me. Sorry, love, can’t wait much longer. Got a bloody lovely cunt f’ me” 
You cry even harder when Ghost finally slides his cock in you – one harsh thrust, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, is enough to make you sick again. You’re stretched, dripping wet, it wouldn’t hurt if only he had a normal-sized cock, not the fucking monstrosity he is showing in your underprepared pussy. Nothing would prepare you for this – he started moving immediately, with little regard for your comfort. The niceties he was whispering were falling on deaf ears as he slammed inside of you over and over again. 
You feel sick. 
— Fuck. S’ tight for me. 
You’re clenching around his dick, not allowing him to pull back. Such a pretty girl, he doesn’t know what he would do without that feeling – he wants to fucking devour you whole, to have you laid out for him so prettily. He bottoms finally, stretching you beyond any man could – you feel him somewhere deep, near your cervix, hitting your sensitive walls while all you can do is cry for him to stop tormenting you like this. You can only squeal under him, for him, he is hitting all of your special spots at the same time, and you don’t know if you could really handle him like this. 
His hand lands on your folds, playing with your clit – only making you more and more wet with each second, you almost feel like you are passing the breaking point already. He is stronger than you want him to be, and you feel like he is going to fucking break you, every attempt of squirming from under him is met with a fierce grip on your waist, dragging you back where you belong – moaning and crying on his cock. 
The intrusion stopped being painful after a few minutes, you’re open enough to allow his cock to slide in and out easily. He bites your neck, munching on sensitive flesh like he is going to rip a chuck off you, leaving marks as if he were a wild dog. You moan under him, the feeling of his teeth on your skin isn’t exactly horrible – but not too enjoyable either. 
You squirm softly, hoping he would at least cum soon. 
— That’s right. Dumb civvie girls should just relax for the ride. 
— N…not dumb. I’m not dumb. 
— Only a dumb girl like you would get in Johnny’s hands. S’ry, love, but you really are dumb. 
— I’m…
— It’s alright. We like dumb girls. 
He moans in your ear, biting your earlobe, engaging in a sloppy kiss that allows you to taste your pleasure on his lips. You hate every second, you want to loathe every inch of his body, but his hand is moving faster and faster, steady rhythm that makes you see stars every time he plunges his cock inside – and, oh god, you can’t help but feel your pussy throbbing around him, the tight knot in your lower tummy getting warmer and warmer as his movements steadily brings you to an orgasm. 
It hits you too fast to be prepared for – just a few minutes later, you’re panting under him, mouth open agape as he slides his cock even faster, abusing your poor, sensitive cunt. You’re milking him for cum, not even caring that you are not on the pill – you just concentrate on the head of his cock hitting your G-spot in the most perfect of timings and his rough fingertips caressing your clit in a way that makes you go wild. 
You cum with a cry, soft, squeaky sobs escaping your lips as you hiccup and moan, pressing your hips against his in an attempt to become as close as possible. You feel his hot cum filling you up, a slight bulge in your lower tummy becoming even more prominent. 
Ghost kisses you on the forehead as he slowly emerges from you, hissing as your tight walls refuse to let him go. You’re so fucking perfect, all flushed and panting heavily, neck covered in bite marks and outline of his bruises forming on your waist. 
He pats your pussy a few times, making you shiver from the feeling. 
— Such a pretty girl. Lay here, your cunt is goin’ to be a bit more visitors today. 
He smiles, kissing you on the lips again – you whimper, curling on the bed, feeling the hot cum dripping from your exhausted, sore pussy. You feel his hand affectionately patting your head as if you were a cat, and he hums in approval when you instinctively lean towards his hand, getting as much affection as you possibly can. He brings you a pillow and drags your head so it would rest more comfortably – and you already feel extremely tired, your eyes closing. 
You’re almost ready to sleep when you feel the Scot sliding in bed with you, slowly spreading your legs.
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hannieehaee · 6 months
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18+ / mdi
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content: fwb!mingyu, pussydrunk!mingyu, horny!mingyu (he's just horny as shit guys), smut, f reader, penetrative sex, based off the picture above ofc, etc.
wc: 985
masterlist
you had known mingyu for a few months now. you'd originally met at some frat party that your friend vernon had invited you to. you attended with no specific purpose in mind. you thought maybe you'd mingle a bit, have some drinks with some friends, and then dip. however, your plans were promptly ruined by the six-foot tall boy with the pretty smile who kept eyeing you all night as he leaned against the wall, nursing a drink while making eyes at you.
that was the first night you ended up in mingyu's bed. at a first glance you imagined he'd be good at sex. you'd been right. somewhat. he was insane. not only did he have an insane libido, but he was insatiable for you. he managed to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. what surprised you most, however, was how he never ran out of orgasms to give you in return. you'd heard of guys with short refractory periods, but mingyu was an anomaly. that night, he had kept you up for hours, causing you to arrive late to next morning's lecture (not that you were complaining).
the second time you met mingyu was quickly after, as you'd bumped into him at a football game two days after. it was almost comical. the way in which you met eyes and knew exactly what the other was thinking. without needing to exchange any words, you ended up back at mingyu's dorm, with your legs thrown over his shoulders as he viciously fucked you into the bed, muttering words such as "you're all mine. pussy's all for me, isn't it baby?", or "pretty fuckin' thing with an even prettier pussy, fuck. n so fuckin' soft too," or your favorite, "shit. best pussy ive ever had. gunna keep it for myself. that okay, baby? gunna give it to me, arent you, pretty?"
the man not only knew how to fuck, but he knew how to make you swoon. you needed no convincing to keep ending up in mingyu's bed day after day. unfortunately for the both of you, you were nothing more than a measly college student; a slave to the deadlines your professors imposed on you. even if you wanted to spend every minute of every living moment in mingyu's bed, you had common sense. which meant you had to prioritize your education.
you and mingyu had fucked consistently for about a month. that is, until midterm season arrived. like any reasonable person, this was time for you to hibernate in your room and cram, all while ignoring any outside distractions. your family, friends, any medical emergencies, and even mingyu's dick would have to wait for this stressful time in your life to end.
you assumed that this wouldve been the case for mingyu too, knowing he was in some of the same courses as you. which is why his most recent message threw you off guard, making you laugh at the absurdity.
from: mingu 🤤:
i'm legit gonna kill myself if we dont fuck again
you'd only been depraving mingyu of sex for a little over a week. was he that insatiable? okay, you had to admit, that was a huge ego boost (and a bit of a turn on). you were now faced with two choices. be a responsible adult and put your education first, or get your hole fucked and stuffed by the big hunk who was threatening lethal action against himself if he didnt feel your warmth around him as soon as humanly possible.
you didnt have to be asked twice.
giggling to yourself, you picked up your phone and angled it upwards, pulling down your shirt enough to display your bare tits and captured a quick picture, typing him a quick message to rile him up a little more.
from you:
want this ? ;)
*picture attachment*
after hitting send, you sat back down for a bit, uselessly putting your phone down as you heard a chime in response almost immediately.
from mingu 🤤:
fuck you
i'll be there in ten
giddy, you readied yourself a bit for his arrival, knowing his dorm rooms were not too far away from yours.
only eight minutes later and you were answering the door to a very frustrated mingyu, barging into your room and immediately pushing you up against the door, taking advantage of your gasp to shove his tongue in your mouth.
"you think you're funny, dont you, baby?", he rasped, "gonna fuck the funny out of you."
he quickly undressed you and carried you over to your couch, taking his own clothes off in the process. he bent you over and put you on your hands and knees, slapping your ass once before entering you without warning.
"fuck," he breathed out in relief, "how could you keep this pretty pussy away from me for so long, baby? wanted me to chase after you? i'll fucking do it," he fucked you harder with every word he uttered.
"g-gyu."
"i'll fuckin' move in to your dorm if that means i can have this pretty fuckin' pussy wrapped around me every night, shit," his words were getting to you, causing you to wrap tighter around him.
"g-gunna give it to you every day, pretty. will you let me do that? huh? stuff this pretty pussy every day. so pretty n warm for me ..."
you both reached your completion soon after, spending yourselves out after one round for the first time since knowing each other.
"baby ... never fucking pull that shit again, i swear to god. next time you ghost me like that, i'm breaking down the door, do you understand?", his words were lighthearted in nature, but the concept of mingyu being so pussydrunk he needed to have you day after day excited you beyond belief.
"yes, sir," you purred, preparing yourself for an afternoon of zero studying.
n/a: not proofread <//3
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cherryredstars · 4 months
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Facesitting, Breast Play, Body Worship, Praise, Aftercare
Summary: darlin' hold me while you wipe my tears, fallin’ you say i’m wise beyond my years
A/N: An anonymous request that I LIVE for!!! Inspired by @osaemu's fic.
Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)
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You should have used waterproof mascara.
You should have known no matter how sparkly your dresses were, how perfect your makeup was, or how pretty you looked, he’d always find attention from someone else who did it ten times better. But you had still hoped. Hoped that on your own goddamn birthday, your own boyfriend would spare you even a second of attention. Instead, you’re tilting your head back outside on his shitty mansion’s balcony so your tears don’t ruin your makeup. 
If your boyfriend was going to fuck every girl at this party but you, you wanted to at least look somewhat pretty and not like the sad, lonely mess you know you are. You embarrassed yourself enough when you had stormed up to him, interrupted his groupie make out session, and slapped him across the face screaming about breaking up with him. You can feel your chin wobble at the thought, and you sniffle and blink rapidly at the sky in an attempt to banish the new wave of sadness that courses through you. Best present ever! Your late twenties are treating you sooo well!
The sound of the balcony door opening catches your attention, and you’re quick to hastily wipe the tears streaming down your face as you clear your throat. You turn towards the door, ready to give whoever it is a wavering smile and a, Oh! I’m just out getting some fresh air! The smell of cigarettes was so strong haha! I promise I’m not crazy and go around slapping people on my birthday! But, you’re surprised to see Miguel, Gabe’s dad, standing there with a bottle of beer in his hand. And he's staring at you. You sniffle again, blinking rapidly. Gabe’s almost a carbon copy of his father, minus the ruggedness that comes with aging. Miguel also has the working man appearance to him, rough around the edges from hard work that his son doesn’t have. Miguel looks exactly like your usual type, but of course you had to go for his young, stupid son. 
You can feel tears beginning to spill from your eyes again and you turn away. You’re sure he’s going to kick you out, question you on why you’re still here after making a scene and slapping his son in front of everyone. You try to muffle your teary hiccup by placing your palm over your mouth as you rest your elbows on your knees. Miguel sighs deeply, moving to sit on the chair parallel to yours. You turn your head slightly as you catch movement, wet eyes noticing the half empty beer bottle Miguel silently holds out for you. You blink at it for a few seconds in confusion, only understanding that he’s offering it to you when he shakes it slightly in his hand. 
You pull your mouth away from the palm of your hand and shake your head slightly as you mumble, “I don’t drink.”
He doesn’t say anything in return, taking the bottle back and taking a sip. You study him for a second, waiting for him to get mad or something, but he just looks straight ahead admiring the view as he sips on his beer. After a while, you do the same. You look straight ahead, feeling the tears dry on your face. Your face feels slightly sticky from the tears, and you have a feeling you’ve smudged your mascara and eyeliner. 
Now that you’re not focused on crying all the water out of your body, you realize how cold it is outside. You shiver, only lasting a few more minutes before you’ve decided you rather not die of hypothermia tonight. As you’re about to get up, Miguel speaks up. 
“I’m sorry about, Gabe. I don’t know how he turned into such an ass. He’s a piece of shit for making a pretty thing like you cry on your birthday.”
When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you. You give him a tight lipped smile, shrugging in mock-indifference. 
“It’s okay, I didn’t like him that much anyways, no offense.” Then, to lighten the mood, “I’m not an expert on feelings, but I don’t think he liked me that much either.”
Miguel stares at you like he doesn’t believe you when you say you don’t like him, but it’s the truth. You haven’t really felt anything romantic for Gabe in a while. The only reason you’ve stuck by him was because he’s the only person you really know in Nueva York. But now, you’re all by yourself in this big ass city. At least you love your job. 
“Yeah, well, he’s an idiot for letting you go. Trust me, sooner or later he’s going to regret it.” Miguel defends you. He looks personally offended at the thought of his son, or anyone, not liking you. 
His words make your smile brighten slightly and you laugh, “Thank you, but I really doubt that. By tomorrow he’ll probably forget I even existed.”
Miguel scowls at that, and you yelp when his hand reaches out and pulls your chair towards his. Your knees knock with his, and you have to hold onto the armrest of his chair to prevent yourself from falling on top of him. You look up at him with wide eyes, breath stifling from how close his face is to yours. Your heart beats erratically as he leans in close, the almost red-brown of his eyes getting more detailed. Your eyes can’t help but trail down to his lips. They’re slightly glossy from his beer, and for the first time, you're tempted to try it. 
You’re quickly startled out of your thoughts when Miguel’s hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. They’re slightly hooded as he looks down the end of his nose at you, and you gulp nervously. His thumb caresses your skin gently, and you have to work hard to not close your eyes as he leans his face down. Instead of the kiss you thought he was going to give you, he shifts until his mouth is close to your ear. 
Your disappointment quickly disappears as your breath hitches. His breath his warm against your ear as he whispers, “He should have treated you like a fucking queen.”
Your heart skips a beat, eyes dropping to your thigh as Miguel’s other hand moves to rest on it. It kneads the plush skin softly before sliding up and fiddling with the ends of your dress. His hand looks so big on your body. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, they’re rough and cracked. Totally different from the too soft hands of Gabe. The hard difference between a man who works hard to get what he wants and a boy who expects everything served to him on a silver platter. 
Miguel’s hand begins to slip under the edge of your dress, and your body straightens with your gasp as his fingers skim the center of your panties. You can practically sense Miguel’s smile as his fingers ever so lightly brush up and down. You can’t help the way your body squirms at his touch, thighs threatening to close around his hand. His fingers float higher and higher, until they’re pressing against your clothed clit. You can feel yourself dripping into your panties and you whine. 
“I can treat you like the queen you are.” 
Miguel’s voice distracts you from his hand, eyes moving up to his face as he moves away from your ear. His eyes are glossy with lust, something hot in his gaze. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, and based on the way Miguel’s eyes darken, he felt it too. His words pound against the walls of your brain, repeating and stretching as you think up of what he means. 
In the end, all you can let out is a: “W-what?”
Behind the lust, Miguel’s eyes flicker in amusement. His hand leaves your chin, sliding up your face until he’s twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “Let me show you how you should be treated. How a man would treat you.”
His proposal burns through your stomach, your eyes blinking rapidly as you breathe in deeply. You can smell the slight tinge of beer mixed with the masculine scent of cinnamon and firewood. It makes your brain dizzy, coaxing you to nod in agreement. Miguel’s hand stops playing with your hair instantly, eyes falling over your face for any sign of indecision. He doesn’t find any, but he still needs verbal confirmation. 
“You gotta tell me clearly, baby.” He urges, leaning his face close again.
He’s a millimeter away, your lips brushing against his as you say, “Please.”
Your only warning is the rumbling groan he lets out before he’s catching your lips in a searing kiss. You whine against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. You lean more into him, arms hesitantly coming to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair. Your lips part when you feel his own hand push onto the small of your back, allowing his tongue to slip through. Both of you moan into the kiss when your tongues meet, the remains of bitter beer invading your taste buds. It should be disgusting, should remind you of all the times Gabe slobbered all over your mouth in a drunken make out, but it doesn’t. Miguel is experienced, knowing where to place his hands and where to caress with his tongue. His lips move with calculated confidence where Gabe would open and close his mouth like a fish. 
Right as your mind becomes slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen, Miguel pulls away. His eyes are still trained to your lips, now plump and wet with spit. He hisses under his breath, cherishing the yelp you let out as he quickly lifts you as he stands. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, only tightening as he sets you into a bridal-style carry. His sudden display of strength makes you clench your thighs. Gabe never offered to carry you, mumbling something about not wanting his arms to get sore. But Miguel carries you like you weigh nothing, even trusting to support you with a single hand as he opens the sliding door and closes it behind the two of you. 
The loud music hits you full blast, the smell of nicotine and alcohol following. From Miguel’s arms, you can see Gabe still on the couch with his entourage of girls. Even from the distance and colored lights, you can see the redness of his cheek where you’ve slapped him. You’re quickly forgetting about him again when Miguel starts moving, carrying you up the stairs. He pauses in front of the door two away from Gabe’s. Miguel’s room. He opens it and locks it behind the two of you, depositing you on his large bed. 
It smells strongly of him, and you have to fight yourself to not breathe in deeply. His sheets feel heavenly against your skin, caressing it like silk. The mattress sinks under you slightly, cocooning your body. It sinks deeper as Miguel crawls on top of you. Your hips are caged by his knees as he kneels, arms holding him up by your head. They come to rest under your head, pulling you up to kiss you again. The two of you sink back into the bed as your tongues clash, and you squeal when Miguel flips you over so you’ve swapped positions. He chuckles against your lips, pulling away and smiling when you pout at him. 
“Shhh,” He smiles, hands sliding down to the zipper of your dress. He drags it down slowly, watching as the straps of your dress fall away and slide down your shoulders, “Let me worship you.”
Your thighs tighten around his waist, blinking down at him as he pushes your dress down to reveal your bare breasts. There wasn’t any need for a bra with your dress having built in padding. You gasp when he surges forward, holding you in place with his hands on your waist as he sucks one of your boobs into his mouth. Your hands tangled into his hair, head tilting back with a moan as he licks and teasingly bites down on your nipple. One of his hands slides up to your upper back, pressing so your chest is pushed against his face. He moans around your nipple, hungrily lapping and sucking as he looks up at you. He’s entranced by the way your lips part as you moan and whine, your neck revealed to him as your face faces the ceiling. 
He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, distracting himself by giving your other breast attention. His eyes practically roll to the back of his head as you tug on his hair. When he’s satisfied, he parts from your breasts with a final kiss to both of your nipples. They’re hardened and shiny with his saliva, and he’s almost tempted to go back for seconds. But he has other things in mind. You watch him as he lays flat on his back, the hand at your back returning to your waist so his other can reach under your dress. You gasp, hands planting on his chest as he rips your underwear off of you. Your eyes are wide as he brings them up to his nose, squeezing at your waist as he moans at the scent. 
He stuffs them into his pocket, both hands now planted on your waist again. He bunches your dress around your waist, looking like a goddess as all your privates are revealed to him. He picks you up, your hands gripping the headboard as he sits you on his face. The noise you let out is close to a scream as his lips instantly attack your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue is warm against your aching bud, your eyes rolling back with another loud moan when his tongue slides against your folds. You want to cry when he pulls you off his face slightly, his chin already sparkly with slick. 
“Gods baby, you’re so sensitive. Gabe never eat you out before?” He teases, but he quickly loses the smirk on his face when you whimper out a no. He rolls his eyes, mumbling out pinche imbécil before diving back into your folds. 
You can’t help bucking against his mouth, his nose beginning to nudge at the bud between your legs. He groans under you in appreciation, and you feel it throughout your whole body. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, your sounds drowning out the music from downstairs. One of your hands comes to tangle in his hair to help guide your movements, and his hands start rocking your hips to help out. He can feel you clenching against his mouth, your orgasm close. For a second he debates not letting you finish and instead making you come around his cock. But no, he isn’t greedy. He’d let you have all the orgasms you want. You deserve to be deeply satisfied and fucked out. Plus, he needs to make up for all the times his son failed to get you to your peak. 
He’s definitely happy with his choice as you fucking scream his name, back arching as you lean against the headboard. Your thighs twitch around his head, your breath heavy as you whine. Your release flows into his mouth like thick honey, and it tastes just as sweet. He can feel himself twitch in his pants again, and he holds you down to prevent you from getting up. He needs to make sure he swallows every last drop you’re giving him. Has to show you how grateful he is that you’re giving him your sweet release. When he finally lets you off, you do so on numb legs. You roll to the side, chest still heaving as he groans.
“Fuck hermosa, taste fucking divine.” Miguel praises, his body hovering over yours again. 
You whine up at him, pulling him into a shy kiss that he returns desperately. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you whimper. As he shares your taste with you, his hands finally get rid of the rest of your dress. He pulls away once it’s off, resting his forehead against yours as his hands undo his belt buckle. 
“You’re gorgeous, y’know that? A fucking vision. And you’re all mine.”
Your body arches into him at his words, hands exploring the expanse of his clothed chest as he gets his pants off. His chest leaves your hands as he sits up again, rapidly undoing the buttons of his button-up and hurriedly taking it off. Both of you are naked, and his eyes get the chance to explore you as you explore him. He’s built in muscle, a little chub at his stomach that has you leaking onto his sheets. His cock hangs heavy in between his legs, unable to hold up its own weight. It makes your mouth water and you almost beg him to put it in your mouth. 
You’re distracted from your filthy fantasy when Miguel’s finger lands at the end of your throat and in between your collarbones. He slides it down, goosebumps mapping where he touched. He brings his finger down the valley between your breasts, dragging it to your stomach, and ending its journey at your clit where he taps on it gently. The whole time he holds his breath as if breathing would disturb the perfection in front of him. It makes your body sing, arching into his touch with a small noise that he soaks up. 
“Fucking perfect,” he whispers into the darkness of the room, leaning back over you.
You can fill his tip rubbing between your thighs, smearing his precum on your skin. You spread your legs wider for him, and you gasp when he grabs them and pushes them up to your chest and over his shoulders. He kisses the side of your knee, eyes peering down at your face as he guides his tip to your entrance. He rubs it up and down slowly, collecting your dripping arousal and nudging at your clit until your body is jolting in sensitivity. When he brings it back to your weeping hole, it slides in with little resistance.
You moan needily as it enters you, and you clench around his tip. It makes Miguel’s mouth drop with a groan, trying to push past your tightness, “You’re so tight, loosen up for me baby.”
You try to relax your walls, but every time he slides further in, your walls clench in pleasure. It makes him chuckle, and he toys with your clit to help your efforts. It works well, and he slides in easily as he rolls your bud in circles. 
“Fuckkk, that’s it baby. Taking this cock so well.”
You whine, back arching as he bottoms out. His balls are flush against your skin, and you squirm on his cock as he begins to slide out. You gasp out when he thrusts back in, hitting against your cervix. Your hands reach above you to bury into the plush pillows, mewling as he starts building up a pace. You try to turn your head away, closing your eyes tight as you moan, but Miguel reaches down so you face him and force eye contact. Your eyes are completely dazed from pleasure, lust threatening to spill through your tears. Miguel groans at the sight, his hips beginning to thrust into you faster. Your gummy walls drag against his length, fluttering every now and then as he works you towards another orgasm. It makes his cock twitch inside of you, and he hides his face in your neck and leaves bruising marks. The way he presses into you makes him hit deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you impossibly close to climax. Your hands leave the pillows to rake down Miguel’s back with hiccuped mewls of his name as you feel your stomach burn. 
“I know, baby,” Miguel grunts, teeth clenched as his hips start stuttering. “I know, I’m right there too. Let go, I got you.”
With his reassurance and the persuasion of a few more thrusts, your body tenses. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, body arching and twitching as you come. Feeling your walls clench so tightly around him makes Miguel explode soon after, moaning out your name. He works both of you through your orgasms with shallow thrusts that slowly dwindle to a halt. He breathes heavily into your neck, groaning as he slowly pulls out of you with a wet squelch. His face hovers over yours, showering you in chaste kisses that have you letting out breathy giggles. 
Once Miguel has caught his breath he gets up, carrying you as he stands off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. He places you down on the sink’s large counter top, your body shocked by the cold marble. He parts from you with a slow kiss to your lips, turning to prepare a bath for you. When the tub fills with steamy water, he picks you up again, stepping in and sitting down with you between his legs. You sigh as the water soothes your aching body. Miguel’s hands begin to massage your body, whispering small praises into your skin and leaving kisses along your neck and shoulders. The coziness of the atmosphere makes you sleepy and you try to stifle a yawn. 
Miguel smiles against your skin as he hears it, and he begins to run his fingers through your hair, “Go to sleep, I’ll take care of you.”
And just like that you’re asleep.
--------------------------------------------------
The next morning, you’re woken up with kisses along your naked shoulder. You smile before you open your eyes, turning around to meet Miguel’s face. He hums when you turn to him, pulling you against him more and kissing your cheek. You chuckle at the affection, kissing the crown of his head as you rake your hands through his hair. 
“Morning, hermosa.” He mumbles to you, eyes shining at your presence. 
“Good morning, handsome. Want some coffee?” You reply, smiling wider when Miguel nods. 
You get out of bed, grabbing Miguel’s button up from last night off the floor. You button it up just enough to cover everything, and you hear Miguel groan from the sight from his place on the bed. You giggle, promising to be quick as you leave his room. When you go downstairs, the place is still trashed from the party. You roll your eyes at the mess, feeling bad for the cleaners and already knowing you’re going to offer them help. Luckily, the kitchen is still functional and you begin to brew Miguel’s coffee. You hear footsteps approaching as you fill a mug, turning to see Gabe. 
He’s rubbing his eyes when he enters, the tell-tale expression of a hangover on his face. He pauses when he sees you, squinting as the sunlight pours from the kitchen window. 
“What are you still doing here?” He asks gruffly, eyes falling to the mug of coffee in your hands. You don’t like coffee, he only knows because you complained about it all the time when he got you one. 
You roll your eyes at his tone, setting the spoon down on the sink. You grab the mug and begin walking over to Gabe. For a moment, he thinks the coffee is for him and he begins to reach out for it. But he pauses as your hand cups his cheek mockingly and you coo at him like he's simply a toddler with an attitude.
“Now, now, Gabe. That isn't how you should treat your step-mom, is it?”
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gi4hao · 25 days
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some vernon x acts of service fluff for you ♡
vernon dyed his hair black this morning. he kind of loves it, and he hopes you will too. obviously the execution isn’t perfect; there are some dark stains on his ears and his forehead and he ruined two t-shirts in the process. but he knows how much you love that color on him.
this afternoon, vernon did some shopping. he needed a new shirt and he remembered the pretty bracelet that had caught your eye last time you were in town. he hopes you’ll be happy when he gifts it to you.
and this evening, vernon cooked dinner. it’s not done yet, but it will be in about thirty minutes. mingyu sent him an easy yet sophisticated recipe which he followed to the letter, and it turned out pretty well, at least on the outside. he hopes you’ll like it.
it’s past 7pm when he hears your key turn in the front door’s lock. the oven is a bit greasy, there’s oregano spilled on the counter, the wrapping of your gift is a little messy, and his ears are red from his attempts to remove the dye from his skin. perhaps from stress too.
and suddenly it hits him. he feels stupid. what if he’s doing too much? it is too much, isn’t it?
“hi handsome” your voice pulls him out of his panic as he exits the kitchen, his hands a little moist. you’re ready to lean in for a kiss, it’s almost muscle memory at this point, but the sight of his hair makes you pause.
“love it. and love the new shirt”, you reply, letting your hand brush against the strands of hair on his forehead before finally going in for the kiss. “what’s that smell? did you cook something?”
his ears turn a new shade of red as he grabs your arm to lead you to his living room. “i did, but you don’t wanna go in there right now”, he warns you, grabbing your arm to lead you to the living room instead.
it’s rather unusual for vernon to look so agitated, especially around you. you look at your surroundings, trying to notice anything different.
“is everything okay?”
he nods, a bit faster than usual, before digging his hand in his pocket and pulling out a small gift with a wonky ribbon on top.
“got you a little something today. but you can return it if you don’t like it, or even if you change your mind in a few days. or weeks. or even months, really.”
you’re only now noticing the dye stains on his skin, which draws a chuckle out of you. he looks so frantic it’s almost comical. without a word, you put the gift aside and stand up, pretty sure to know what this is all about.
“i already know i love that gift. i’ll love it forever and i would not trade it for any other. ever. because it comes from you, and that’s all i want.”
completely unfazed by how easily you saw right through him, he looks down at the hand you’re still holding, the one with a brand new silver ring on his fourth finger.
your words were heard and understood, but you can feel him internally tiptoeing around what’s really on his mind. his eyes, however, carry the same sweetness they always do when he looks at you.
“this is gonna sound really dumb but, i just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured to love… my gift. or to commit to it. i promise i won’t be mad if you tell me you don’t want it”, he tells you, grabbing your other hand to get a look at your own ring, the exact same as him.
it’s now 7:25pm, meaning that it’s been almost 24 hours since vernon has gotten down on one knee to ask the most nerve-wracking question of his entire life. 24 hours since you were legally allowed to call him your fiancé, a much awaited upgrade from the ‘boyfriend’ status.
last night had been a dream come true. but this morning, an uneasy feeling had started crawling into vernon’s mind, making him feel like maybe that dream of his would never come true after all.
dyeing his hair, making dinner, buying gifts, he had really thought about doing anything in his power to keep you from second-guessing your answer from yesterday.
still, nothing would calm his mind except maybe hearing the words from your mouth.
“i’ll love your gift because i love you. and because i spent the last 24 hours on cloud nine, thinking about how lucky i am that you proposed”, you told him in your calmest voice. “i’ll be honest, i even spent my entire day practicing saying “my husband” instead of “boyfriend”… and it sounds really, really nice.”
and that is the exact moment when the crushing weight of doubt and insecurity is lifted from vernon’s shoulders.
he still feels a bit stupid, but in a way that feels great, warm and almost comforting. for the second night in a row, he’s overwhelmed by the pure yet simple feeling of knowing his love is perfectly reciprocated.
“so… does that mean you still want me to be your husband?” he asks with a relieved smile as you trap him in the tightest hug, one hand running in his freshly dyed locks.
he loves you and you love him, that’s the one thing he doesn’t need to hope for. he knows it, and oh how he loves knowing it.
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hazbinwhoree · 2 months
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Come Inside
Part 2/2
A/N: The heavily requested part two.
“Well you fucking did it,” (Name) announced, storming into the living room where Adam was watching TV. “Did what,” he asked, mouth full of the ribs he was eating. (Name) threw something at him.
“Hey!” he yelped, the small object bouncing off his shoulder. He picked it up and the world stopped for a moment. It was a pregnancy test. And it was positive.
“Are you fucking with me?” Adam asked after a moment. “Does that look like I am fucking with you?” She had a point. (Name) was watching him anxiously. Adam looked back at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I… I don’t know. How do you feel?” “Like I made good on a promise,” Adam smirked. (Name) threw a pillow at his head. “This is serious!” “I am serious!” Adam protested. “I said I’d put a baby in you and I did. You had no fuckin’ objections when we were doing it.”
(Name) groaned, flopping onto the couch next to him. “You’re telling me that you are ready to be a dad?” Adam placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You say that like it’s an insane notion. I knew the risks, I knew this was a possibility. I wouldn’t have taken the chance if I wasn’t ready for it.”
(Name) teared up.
“Oh, shit, do you not want this?”
(Name) shook her head. “No, it’s just the hormones and the fact you actually want to have a baby with me.”
Adam laughed, pulling her into his lap. “Of course I want to have a baby with you. I wouldn’t have a baby with anyone else. Well, Eve, but I never raised Cain and Abel. In fact I was a completely absent dad–” “Babe.” Adam laughed, thinking about it. “I don’t know if that’s funny,” (Name) said.
Adam cleared his throat. “Point is, you make me want to be a father so long as you’re the mother.”
“You’re not gonna leave me and the baby like you left Cain and Abel?”
“Babe, Eve had Cain and Abel like right before she cheated on me. I wasn’t fuckin’ sticking around. Those kids are a mess too–” he laughed. “One killed the other!”
(Name) rolled her eyes, punching his shoulder. “The things you find funny are so fucked.” “Yeah but you love me,” Adam cooed, licking her cheek. (Name) squealed. “I hate when you do that! Just kiss me like a normal person, asshole!” Adam cackled.
The first trimester, it still hadn’t become a permanent thought in Adam’s head that he was going to be a father.
The second trimester, it became much more real and they started considering baby names and preparing a nursery.
The third trimster, was really bad for (Name). She was constantly exhausted, sore, hungry but sick to her stomach. The baby really did a number on her. By the time nine months rolls around, (Name) is more than ready to get this child out of her.
“GET IT OUT OF ME!” She screamed after pushing once. “Push again!” the midwife encouraged. (Name) screamed as she did.
Adam watched on in horror. He wasn’t there to witness Cain and Abel’s births, so he had no idea how brutal and scary childbirth was. He stroked back hair off her sweaty forehead, letting her squeeze the life out of his other hand.
Every time she screamed, Adam lost his shit a little bit.
“And push!” With one final push and a pained yell, (Name) delivered their baby.
It was a baby girl.
Adam had been reconsidering his eligibility for fatherhood. But when the nurse cleaned their baby off and placed her on (Name)’s chest, Adam was determined not to ruin a good thing. He may not be looking forward to the responsibilities of a father, but he would take them on for her sake.
In the following weeks, he really tries to help with the baby equally, but he’s pretty bad at it. He’d offered to take a few night shifts but would sleep straight through the baby’s crying, leaving (Name) to go soothe her. But he learned how to prepare a bottle of milk, and he learned how to change dirty diapers.
To his surprise, he actually didn’t find it all that difficult to bond with his child. (Name) even caught him baby talking once, which he fervently denies.
Months go by, and their daughter surprises them with her very first word… “Fuck!”
(Name) is appalled, Adam thinks it’s hilarious. She berates Adam for setting a bad example for the baby, when she shocks them with her second word. “Bitch.” Clear as day. Adam picks their daughter up and praises her. (Name) hits Adam’s arm.
Adam does his best to be a good husband and father, and while he’s not great at it, he is a present father and a loving husband.
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chappellrroan · 8 months
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if i had to talk about guts it so easily describes how growing up fast and not being ready for it feels as, like the passive aggressiveness about being grateful all the time and going back to bad decisions, realising you're also half responsible for whatever happens midway through, the "another thing i ruined i used for fun", oh also the constant comparing of your body and never feeling good enough because pretty isn't pretty and still mentally stuck in your teenage days because you never really lived them, they say it'll get better but what if I don't?
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yonch · 3 months
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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever
(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)
ok this got really long. here you go
sif:
ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.
ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.
they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.
they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.
they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers
41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.
isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes
isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork
he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...
kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife
can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!
39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand
mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend
i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her
speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.
she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.
moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.
38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3
odile:
my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay
she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.
she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.
64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"
bonnie:
prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)
speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)
26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise
loop:
ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.
i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that
i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.
ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.
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turcott3 · 3 months
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safety net
jack hughes x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, semi slow burn, a kiss, angst and some fluff ofc
positions masterlist!
~trippin’ fallin’ with no safety net~
-
you made your way into the bar, as it was your first weekend living in jersey. you walk in and head straight to the counter, asking for a drink that was sweet and didn’t taste too strongly of alcohol.
“hey stranger.” a voice says to your right and you turn your head.
“dawson?” you say, your eyes widening.
“hey y/n.” he says opening his arms for you to hug him, which you gladly accept.
“how have you been? oh my gosh it’s been what like 3 years.” you say smiling at your old school friend.
“i’ve been good, playing hockey here is fucking awesome.” he says.
“yes! that’s right you play for the devils, how could i forget you getting drafted!” the two of you laugh.
“well how’s your boyfriend? haven’t seen him in a few years either.” he asks curiously.
“funny you should ask, i broke up with him and that’s why i moved here.”
“wait really? why? you don’t have to explain if you’re not comfortable.” the brunette boy asks leaning on the counter.
“well things were so great when we started dating our senior year but within the last year he became a real fucking asshole, so i broke it off and moved away so he couldn’t try to find me and sucker me into being with him again.” you explain, leaving out any details you weren’t ready to share.
“well shit, i’m sorry y/n. i bet that hurt a lot.”
“it did but i’m over it, ready to find someone else.” you say and you practically see the light bulb turn on over his head.
“i think i have someone i want you to meet.” he smirks. you grab your drink and follow close behind him, holding onto his arm.
“hey jack!” dawson says to a brunette boy with bright blue eyes.
“what’s up daws, who’s this?” he says looking at you. you release dawson’s arm and give him a smile.
“jack this is y/n, y/n this is jack.” he says looking between you two.
“nice to meet you, jack.” you say.
“yeah, you too.” he smiles, causing a blush to burn in your cheeks.
“i have to go to the bathroom, you two have fun. don’t get too drunk.” he says giggling and walking off to the bathroom.
“so y/n, what brings you to jersey?” he asks.
“just needed a change of scenery from my hometown. dawson and i went to highschool together.” you tell him.
“oh wow, small world. are you still new to living here or?”
“yeah this is only my first weekend but i’m glad im already meeting people, it was getting pretty lonely.” you laugh.
“well now that you’ve reconnected with dawson, you have a whole new group of people to hang out with.”
“oh are you guys like on the same team?” you ask.
“yeah we are, my brothers around here somewhere. probably tongue deep in some random girl.” he laughs.
“is he older or younger?”
“younger.” he says taking a sip of his drink.
“oh nice.” you smile doing the same.
“can i get your number?” he asks.
“yeah of course.” you say as he hands you his phone.
“what have i missed?” a tall, curly haired boy asks.
“ah yes, y/n, this is my brother luke.”
“nice to meet you.” you say.
“nice to meet you too.” he replies.
“so where were you?” jack asks as i hand him his phone back.
“i was talking to john but i didn’t wanna ruin his game so i came back.” he laughs.
“johnny getting some ladies?”
“he sure was.” luke laughs, taking a sip of his beer.
“i see you’ve met the other one.” dawson says returning from the bathroom.
“yes i have.” i laugh at him. you spent the next 2 hours with the boys, enjoying their presence and the fact that you’d made some friends in your new town.
“well i think im gonna call it a night.” you say taking the final sip of your drink.
“let me walk you?” jack asks.
“yeah sure.” you accept and the two of you make your way out of the bar.
“did you walk here or drive?” he asks stopping once you made it outside.
“oh i walked, i live like two blocks away.”
“okay cool, show me the way.” he says.
“jack you don’t have to.”
“i’m not letting you walk back to your apartment by yourself at midnight in a big city y/n.” he says firmly.
“oh, thank you.” you blush and begin your walk to your apartment. the walk was filled with small talk and laughter, the chemistry between you two growing more and more with seemingly every step.
“well this is my place.” you say arriving at your door.
“alright, have a good night y/n. i’ll text you.” he says as you pull him in for a side hug.
“goodnight jack.” you say shutting the door behind you. it’s been 5 days and you already have a crush on someone you just met. it felt almost wrong. you had broken up with your boyfriend just two weeks ago. you couldn’t allow yourself to move on too quickly. your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you see that dawson had texted you.
dawson: glad you made it back safe!
y/n: thank you! except really you can thank jack
dawson: hahaha well i guess so🙄 have a good night y/n
y/n: you too, see you again soon?
dawson: yes for sure, season starts in like a month and a half i’m sure you’ll get sick of seeing me
y/n: doubt it
dawson: only bc ill bring jack
y/n: bitch
dawson: i’m messing with you lmaooooo goodnight y/n
y/n: goodnight daws😭
-
you woke up the next morning to a text from jack saying good morning, to which you replied with a simple, good morning. texting a new guy felt so wrong. you didn’t know what to do about it but you couldn’t ghost him so you figure you should just keep chatting and see what happens.
“lunch?” you say reading his next text. the boy asked you to lunch, to which you hesitantly agreed to join him. you made yourself a small breakfast to tide you until lunch. you sat on the couch watching tv, growing more nervous by the second. he didn’t ask you on a date, just lunch. maybe he just wants to be friends? after you ate, you put on a casual outfit and added a natural touch to your makeup. he texted the address and you left your apartment, hoping to arrive after him. once you arrive at the, what appears to be, small coffee shop, you’re greeted by jack smiling at the counter.
“sorry i’m a little late.” you laugh nervously.
“no don’t worry, i was just about to order. what do you want?”
“oh jack you don’t have to pay i can’t wait in line.” you say.
“now what kind of man would i be to let a pretty girl like you wait in line and pay for her own food?” he says boldly, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.
“an iced vanilla latte and a buttered croissant is good then.” you simply reply, finding a seat at a table by a large window. he meets you soon after, with a table number in his hand.
“you ever been here before?” he asks, noticing you staring out the window.
“i haven’t, i didn’t even know it was here until you told me about it.” you say redirecting your attention to the boy who already had his eyes on you.
“i come here sometimes, it’s like my special little spot for special occasions.” he smiles leaning back in his chair.
“what’s so special about this occasion?” you question, wanting real answers.
“it’s our first date.” he smirks causing your face to burn bright red.
“well i guess it is isn’t it.” you laugh.
-
once you arrive back at your apartment, you throw your purse to the side and kick off your shoes.
“what have i done? what do i do? oh fuck me, i can’t do this.” you say, that piece of your heart never healing from your past relationship. you couldn’t let go of the mistrust you felt. you never wanted to make the same mistake again, so you called dawson.
“hello?” you speak when he picks up.
“hey y/n, what’s up?”
“can you come over, i need advice.”
“yeah of course, send me your address and i’ll be there.”
“thank you so much, bye daws.” you say hanging up and sending him your address. you sat on your couch almost in a panic. you told yourself over and over to not do this again, especially this soon. a short 10 minutes later, you hear a knock on your door and you open it to see dawson standing there in his sweats.
“did i wake you from a nap?” you laugh.
“yes actually you did, but it’s okay, what’s up?” he says stepping in and shutting the door behind him.
“jack is what’s up.”
“oh?” he says plopping down on my couch.
“so we went out to lunch, he called it our first date.” you say.
“okay what’s the problem with that?” he says.
“you’re not understanding, my ex and i broke up what 3 weeks ago? i can’t move on, how do i know i can trust him?”
“y/n, jacks a nice guy, i wouldn’t have introduced you two if i thought otherwise.”
“i just think it’s too soon dawson.”
“relax, calm down, chill out.” he says standing up and placing his hands on your biceps.
“how am i supposed to be calm?”
“y/n, no one is rushing you into a relationship. you are not committed to the guy, you went on ONE date. you aren’t married to him, just relax. i know it’s hard, i don’t know all the details of your break up but obviously you let your mistrust cloud your vision of good people. i wouldn’t let you go down a dark rabbit hole, and you know that.” he says calming your nerves. dawson always had a way of getting to you and calming you down when necessary, even though it had been years since you last saw the boy.
“okay you’re right.” you say sighing.
“and you don’t have to worry, he’s leaving to go to michigan for a couple days tomorrow, so you can spend time away from him and just texting, so you can get to know him better without it being to serious for you.” he adds.
“perfect.” you laugh.
“now why don’t we chill out and watch a movie, you’re clearly stressed and i want you to clear your mind.” he states, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. after a couple hours, dawson heads home, leaving you alone with nothing but your phone.
jack: hey i’m headed to michigan tmrw morning, hang when im back?
y/n: yes for sure!
jack: ok awesome, see you then
y/n: *loved a message*
you sat with your thoughts. you were terrified of the possibilities with jack, you couldn’t help it. it’s like your brain had been hardwired to push him away, but you fought the urge harder than anyone could ever know.
-
it had been about two weeks and jack returned from his trip a few days ago. the two of you have been texting nonstop. you learned the silly facts about each other and his personality shined through even on text. he was beginning to give you that glimpse of hope that you thought you’d lost for good.
“i just don’t know.” you spoke to dawson through the phone.
“he’s never texted a girl this long, he obviously likes you.”
“well you never know.”
“he has had women throw themselves at him and he’s rejected all of them. don’t you see it.”
“i do but i just don’t know if it’s the best idea.”
“y/n, just give it another go. go on another date with him. you won’t regret it, you and i both know that as much as you don’t want to admit that your crush is more than just a silly little crush.”
“god, daws you always know how to pick my brain what is wrong with you?” you laugh.
“um nothing, im just correct.” he scoffs.
“okay whatever, ill call him tonight okay?” you reply hoping it’ll shut him up.
“i’m holding you to it, so you better.”
“whatever mercer.”
-
“hello?” you hear a muffled jack on the other end of the line.
“hey jack, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go out again some time? i had a great time with you.”
“yeah absolutely!”
“does tomorrow work?” you ask, holding your breath.
“yeah i don’t have any plans. ill come pick you up at 1?”
“perfect.” you smile to yourself.
“i’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”
“bye jack.” you say hanging up the phone, wanting to scream with excitement. you had no clue how this could feel the way it does so soon after your breakup.
-
2 months later
“hey,” jack says shaking you awake.
“huh.” you groan opening your eyes.
“i have a skate to go to, ill be back okay?” he says, you fully processing your surroundings.
“oh, yeah okay. have fun.” you smile as he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. you’d stayed the night at his house just like you have for a few nights every week since your second date though you never established a label for your relationship, just placing the boyfriend name tag on him when you’re out by yourself, too afraid to use it around him. the idea of him leaving you to skate sucked, and you shoved down these feelings so they wouldn’t get in the way of anything. you never wanted him to leave your sight. you hated that you’d grown so attached. you pulled out your phone to call dawson, always filling him in with updates.
“hey miss hughes, what you up to?” he asks picking up.
“dawson stop,” you laugh, “i just woke up, jack just left for optional skate.”
“oh that’s funny i’m on my way there now.”
“i’m sure he’ll ive you all the details.”
“yeah he always does but you’re gonna tell me what’s going on in that little brain of yours first.”
“i hate when he leaves dude. i hate it. i feel like i have no right to be this attached. being around him makes me so fucking happy, it’s like all my problems disappear when he’s around. but i need to face it, he probably doesn’t even want me.”
“you’re lying but go on.”
“lying about what?”
“you really think he ever keeps girls around this long if he doesn’t wanna be with them? be for real with yourself y/n.” he says plainly.
“okay well, point is, i’ve grown attached and i don’t understand my feelings daws.”
“i think you love him.” he laughs.
“you’re crazy.” you scoff.
“did you listen to anything you just said?”
“what part?”
“god damnit, think before you speak y/n. the way you feel when you’re around him is love. practically in its exact definition.”
“it’s only been 3 months that i’ve known the guy.”
“bitch do you really think love has a timeline?”
“well n-“
“THEN GO GET HIM.”
“i’m not gonna go, he’s skating.”
“i meant it figuratively, just wait for him to come back and see how different you feel compared to talking to me on the phone. don’t leave. don’t panic and push him away y/n. give him a shot.”
“okay okay, ill talk to you later dawson.”
“alright, bye y/n.” he says hanging up abruptly. you knew deep down that he was probably right and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. you sat on his couch for a few hours, waiting to hear the lock turn again, when suddenly it did.
“oh hey, you’re still here? i thought you’d be gone by now.” he laughs, hanging his keys on the hook.
“no i wanted to stay, your couch is cozy.”
“well i’m glad you’re still here.” he says, kissing you on top of the head as he passed behind the couch. dawson was right, you felt giddy when jack entered the room, and the feeling didn’t settle. he returns back to the living room.
“you look like you’re thinking.” he says sitting down next to you. you sit up and turn to him.
“i am thinking.” you say, anxiety running through your body at full speed, knee bouncing.
“what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” he giggles placing a hand on your leg gently.
“i think i love you.” you say quietly, the words slipping off your tongue with struggle. you finally let yourself trip and fall. it felt almost freeing. his demeanor shifts as a smile grows on his face. he sits up to get closer to you.
“what was that?” he asks, smile growing wider.
“i think i love you. no no, i do. i do love you. i love you jack. i know we never attached a label to whatever we are but i can’t keep pushing my feelings away anymore. i just love you.” you say finally being able to lock eyes with him. he connects your lips in response, framing your cheek with his callused hand. when you pull away his gorgeous smile returns.
“fuck, i love you too y/n.” he laughs, a wave of relief washing over you. you couldn’t believe how jack changed your perspective on love and men so quickly but it never felt more true to you. you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore no matter how hard you tried. you finally let yourself fall, and thank god it was into the right hands this time.
-
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