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dotster001 · 10 months

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Gold Digger End

Summary: another for tuna CC end

A/N: as usual, you can vote for the next ending here. I combined this person, with a scenario that was requested... So.... 😁

Part One Part Two Part Three Choose Another ending

"Grim! What the actual fuck?"

You had stumbled upon Grim's notebook, which was titled, "How to Marry Y/N off to Idia".

"Y/N! That's my super secret diary! Put it back!"

"Like hell it's your diary!" You snapped.

"Listen, Y/N," he climbed up your body, and cupped your cheeks with his paws, face stern, "it's time to face the facts. We are poor."

"I know that, but-"

You were cut off by a loud crash as the railing fell off the stairs, which was quickly followed by the collapse of the stairs themselves.

The two of you stared at the fallen stairway. Silent. Pondering. You shifted Grim to your hip, and picked up his fallen notebook.

"Are you sure Idia is our best option?"

"Technically, Leona has more money, but he's on an allowance. If he steps out of line, we're toast."

"But he's willing to work with us?"

"Are you asking if he wants you?" Grim laughed. "Yeah. You'd be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't want you in this school. It's a little concerning."

You flipped past Idia's pages, finding some final notes on Leona.

"Let me talk to him."

"Are you sure?" Grim couldn't help but be frightened by your change of heart.

"Grim, look at our stairway, and ask if I'm sure again."

You both looked back at the stairs.

"I'll call him and set up an appointment," Grim muttered, leaping out of your arms, and pulling Leona's file, which was hidden under the couch.

….

Leona was watching the both of you, smugly, from across his desk.

"I have to say, I'm a little surprised to see you here, herbivore. I thought you would still be living in denial."

You scowled over the rim of your glasses, that matched Grim's.

"Mr. Kingscholar-"

"Mr. kingscholar? What happened to kitty cat?"

You hid your flustered face by pushing your glasses back up your nose. But you didn't miss Grim's confused glance your way.

"Kitty cat?"

"Mr Kingscholar!" You cut him off. "We are willing to choose you as my lover and future husband, but we need to know that you will not blow it."

He leaned back in his chair, giving you a long, slow once over.

"Hmm."

He stood up, and walked to the window behind you, staring at the Savannaclaw courtyard.

"I can be a good little kitty cat. If it's for you."

You choked, and fiddled with your glasses again.

"How much do you need right now?"

He still wasn't looking at you, and it wasn't helping anything.

"Huh?"

"200,000 thaumarks to renovate the stairwell, and restabilize Ramshackle," Grim spoke up for you.

Leona pulled out his wallet, and filled out a check, handing it to Grim.

"Are there any contracts the two of us need to sign, little mouse? Maybe one that makes you promise not to fall in love with me?" Leona smirked, as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I-" your tongue felt like lead, and you swallowed, before starting over, "I don't think that's a concern."

Your voice was completely cracked, but at least you got the statement out.

"Hmm," he said again, devilish smirk not leaving his face. "But you do plan to at least pretend to be my perfect little partner, yes?"

"That's the idea," you choked out.

"Hmm."

He had to stop saying hmm. You couldn't handle it.

"Well, in exchange for that 200 k, you'll join me at a charity ball tomorrow evening, and then let me hold you until we both fall asleep."

"Tomorrow?!? I don't have anything to-"

"I had a feeling Grim would have end up picking me, even if he didn't choose me first. I got you something to wear."

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a stunning outfit.

"Oh," you shifted in your seat. It would definitely look good on you. How long had he been planning this? And why were you getting so excited and flustered thinking about him, thinking about your future with him?

"Oh," he mocked, handing you the hanger. "Try that on so Ruggie can fit it if he has to. Bathroom is over there. Fuzzball, go get him." Leona pointed you towards the bathroom, and Grim towards the door.

Grim, needless to say, was very confused. But he fetched Ruggie anyway.

Just as they were about to reenter, Ruggie turned to Grim.

"Any chance you can get me a sugar mommy or daddy? I'm not picky, I'm into all of the above, you just have to find them for me."

Grim grinned, "Ten percent of your future allowance, and you got yourself a deal."

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @peskygirl13 @loser-jpg @magnayuki88 @dragontamer222 @nicholas-andrew99

#twisted wonderland #for tuna #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar

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wolfjackle-creates · 3 months

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Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

#dpxdc #answer my call #wrong number au #jazz fenton #jason todd #eventual anger management ship #emotions are running high #and jazz is Stressed™️#but they can finally talk #and be safe about it

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strawberryblue-blog · 3 months

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Stop calling me that —Pedri Gonzalez.

summary: After going out with your friends and having to take care of Pedri, things take an unexpected turn.

warnings: YES. +18. (smut, unprotected sex, cursing, etc)

words: +4.5k

#SEXYNOTE: There may be errors since i use the translator. English is not my first language.

Hands grab your forearm as you try to escape from the crowd of people. The music was at its peak and everyone around you was still dancing like there was no tomorrow. You weren't going to lie, a few moments ago you were one of them but after seeing one of your friends in bad shape, you decided it was the best thing to do to take him home.

Surrounded by sweaty and high strangers, you and Pedro make your way through the bodies, trying to make it to the end. You try to look for your other friends with your eyes but it's hard because of the darkness and the neon lights bursting in your eyes. Your friends were probably out picking up girls or lying around somewhere, they might have even gone home by now.

When they finally emerge from the chaos, you push Pedro until he's sitting on the edge of the street. He sighs tiredly and lies down on the sidewalk.

"No, no. You'll get dirty" you tell him, helping him to pull himself together but he groans. You take your phone from your wallet and call your friends, first Gavi and no answer, then Fermin and no answer either, you try your friends and no sign of life either.

Damn it. Of all of them, it had to be Pedro?

If you had known he would get that drunk and the boys would disappear sooner than you wanted, you wouldn't have agreed to come tonight.

Being voted in and on top of that having to take care of an alcoholic kid was not what you had in mind when they said 'let's go out'.

You hated drunks! You didn't understand why they drank if they weren't going to put up with it. You weren't a babysitter.

"Come on, Pedro, the last few steps" you sighed from exhaustion, dragging him along when they turned the corner of your block.

You didn't want to bring him home but none of the boys were paying attention and you didn't know if it was the right thing to do to take him home in this state. His brother, Fer, was probably sleeping and you didn't want to disturb him. It was late and I lived far from you, if you took a taxi it would be very expensive and you didn't have a car. You had a couch and because of his condition, he wouldn't feel a thing.

He didn't even know it was you bringing him home, the boy was just babbling nonsense. At least he was still awake, because dragging a dead body was not what you would have preferred.

Finally a few minutes later you arrived at your apartment, opened the door and with the last effort you threw him on the couch.

Pedro whimpered kicking and screaming when you let him go. Maybe because he thrashed a bit, which was funny but you were quick to worry about helping him.

"I'll never go out with you again, I promise" you said loudly, whining as you reached out to grab his shoes.

"What are you doing?" you heard him ask and you lifted your head.

The position you were in was not at all favorable. Pedro looked at you in confusion and from how nervous you became, you stumbled falling over his legs.

"Y/n?" he said again and you got up from his body quickly.

"Sleep, Pedro" you said quickly as you removed them.

"Stop calling me that!" he grumbled snorting.

He was fucking drunk! Why wouldn't he fall asleep? You were hating that he saw you like that. He should be sleeping right now so everything would be easier.

"It's your name, I don't understand why it bothers you" you told him seriously.

"It's Pedri to my friends, you could try it" he insisted and you nodded.

You knew. You knew his friends, who were your friends too but you were not so close. Not because of anything special, simply because you didn't have much contact. You were Fermín's college classmate and with that, you got to know Pablo, Pedro and Ferran but you wouldn't say you were close to them either. You could count on one hand the number of times you saw each other. You had seen them at Fermín's birthday, at the end of the year dinner and now. You couldn't exactly say they were friends. You weren't even close.

"I want to take a shower, I stink" he pouted complainingly.

"Well you should have thought about that before you got drunk like that" you muttered heading towards the kitchen.

The truth was that you both stank. It was hot this time of year and in club there were a lot of people, you had traces of drinks, cigarettes and dirt on you.

"It'll just be a quick shower" he asked again and you bleached your eyes.

"No" you denied seriously. "Go to sleep" you asked pouring him a glass of water.

You sighed before taking a drink of water, you never thought taking care of someone drunk would be so exhausting. Bringing him home had been almost a triumph for you but him being here, invading your space was too much. A noise made you alert and you turned quickly. Pedro's body was heading for the center of your home and on his way he had crashed into your tapestry.

"Where are you going?" you shouted as he headed for the doors. You walked quickly following him. "Pedro!" you shouted again when he ignored you.

You saw his bare back as you followed him towards your bathroom. He had taken off his shirt! Damn it. This wasn't going to end well. Why didn't his friends take care of him? Surely they would know how to handle him better than you.

"I'll call Fermin, he'll come get you and you can bathe at his house" you yelled as you saw him disappear into the bathroom.

You stood at the bathroom door and fumbled in your pockets for your cell phone but cursed when you noticed you had forgotten it in the living room. The sound of the shower hitting the floor made you scream. You were going in, you couldn't leave it alone in that state.

"I'm going in" you warned covering your eyes with your hand. You bit your lip nervously and walked into your bathroom, seeing Pedro's clothes on the floor.

Was this how drunks behaved? You were going to need a break after this. And enlightenment from the universe not to kill Pedro. You were hating your friends so hard right now that you probably wouldn't hang out with them ever again. Ever.

"Turn it off!" you shrieked from the other side of the shower. You tried to reach in to turn off the water but Pedro ran it.

"It's just a bath" he said stammering.

"But you don't have any clothes, Pedro" you grumbled but he ignored you.

"What is body gel soap?" you heard him ask and you wanted to hit him.

"Don't even think about using it" you said through your teeth, bending down to grab his clothes off the floor. You hated that everything was lying around.

"Smells good" he said and you went back to throwing everything in your hands to get it off him.

"Drop it, Pedro" you remarked his name like a mother scolding her child.

You weren't going to let him use your stuff just like that. He was invading your privacy, you wouldn't stand for it. And he was acting like a five year old.

You reached in your hands grabbing the gel, trying not to look at him so much but half your body was inside the shower and your hands were starting to get wet.

"Use the normal soap!" you squealed taking it out of his hands but Pedro was quicker and pulled you out.

"Pedro!" you called angrily.

His hands were fighting against yours, he couldn't be more childish. But he wasn't going to use it, it was your favorite gel, you smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, you weren't going to let Pedro smell like you.

You took the product in your hands but when Pedro's hands let go of the bottle, he grabbed your forearms and pulled you into the shower. Your hair started to get wet as you screamed from the shock of the water on your body. You didn't have time to react when you were already completely wet and your eyes searched the mocking eyes of Pedro, who hid a laugh on his lips as he saw you squealing.

"What the fuck?" you shouted in confusion.

"You are very intense and you kept saying Pedro, Pedro, Pedro" he replied mocking you.

You want to keep yelling at him and hit him but your eyes move to his abdomen, leaving you breathless. You look at his well toned chest, he has a bit of hair on top, well marked. A shiver runs down your back and makes you swallow saliva as you continue down his body but you cover yourself before you can see him.

He is naked in front of you and feels no shame at all. He looks at you with that complicit look and you want to run but your legs don't work. Instead, you feel a heat rising from the tip of your toes to your crotch, damn it. Your body tricks you and reacts to the situation as instinct, your cheeks heat up and your heart beats fast.

You are both under the cold shower, which now feels warm on your skin, standing facing each other but one of you is only dressed. You die of embarrassment but you can't do anything, you're in shock.

You feel drunk and you didn't even take a drop of alcohol, your eyes are still closed but you can see his body in your imagination, his perfect abs, his hard chest and his...

Shit, what the fuck is wrong with you? You blink trying to understand but every second that passes you want to keep seeing it.

A laugh bursts in your ears and makes you shiver.

"Why do you look like you've never seen a naked man?" he sneers at your reaction.

Your skin bristles with anger.

"Yes I have!" you squeal in offense and drop your hands.

"Are you sure?" he says still smiling.

You look at him again after a few seconds and now you're sure he can see your red cheeks because when you remember that he's naked, you feel your cheeks burning again. This is so embarrassing.

"Fuck you!" you shout angrily again and rush to get out of the shower.

But his hand stops you and his touch burns into your skin. You swallow saliva as your thoughts scatter, his hand wraps around your forearm and pushes you until you fall straight into his chest. Your hands are pressed into his hard chest and your body almost brushes his.

You gazes are connected and you doubt if usually the dark in their eyes shines like this or just shines for this moment. Water falls on your skins wetting you, his arms wrap around your waist and just when you think you will faint, his lips impact yours.

The kiss is fiery, hard, needy. Your lips devour, feel and enjoy, you feel how the kiss kills you and brings you to life again and again, how your tongues caress and greet. You lose your mind and forget everything else, as if it all vanishes, as if it never existed. You are lost in his taste, in his charm. You don't want to let go, you don't want him to let go, you don't want it to end. And it doesn't because after taking one last breath, you desperately join again.

Now your hands run up his skin and you hang on his shoulders, feeling his burning skin beneath them, while his fingers squeeze your waist pulling you closer to him. You want to pull away, you want to get out of here, you remember he's drunk but you can't stop.

His lips are contagious, unhealthy, dangerous. Yet you are willing to keep kissing him. And you do it when you are desperate to feel him, to kiss him, to touch him. Who took control of your body? How is it possible? Pedro and you... here... right now...

After your trip to limbo, after tasting the temptation, you are forced to push his chest, pushing us away. You need air, you need to think. Pedro looks confused and stunned, he pulls on your hip but you stop him again.

"You're drunk, we can't go on" you warn him at his confusion. He denies but you affirm.

"I'm not" he mutters. "Not anymore, maybe before at the club but I'm fine now" he insists and pulls you close again.

You bite your lip at the temptation. You want to go on and you know he does too. His eyes watch you delicately, his touch permeates your skin.

"I was acting a little, okay?" he admits and you open your mouth. Pedro laughs a little. "No one has ever cared about me like you did at the club, I couldn't pass up the opportunity" he continued.

Your heart widens and you want to punch him.

"Opportunity of what?" you ask angrily. "Of hitting you?" you spit squeezing his chest.

"Of getting close to you" he says and your system stops.

You open your eyes in surprise. He has a smile on his face and you don't know if he's playing with you or if he really means it. Pretending to be drunk to be with you? No way.

"Ha ha ha" you laugh falsely at his confession. You can't believe him. "We better end this" you mutter somewhat angrily, you should never have continued this in the first place.

"You don't believe me?" he says when you want to let go but he grabs your elbow again. "Don't say you don't want to, I saw you tonight seeing me with your friends, they were talking about something and when I looked at you, you blushed. Even they noticed it too" he said and you bite your tongue embarrassed.

It was true, tonight Pedro looked fucking hot and handsome. If he wasn't who he is, you would have definitely approached him but he was a casanova, a famous footballer who could have any girl at his feet and you weren't just anyone. Your friends knew your tastes and always teased you about him when you all went out together, even Fermin knew that.

"We were talking about something else" you try to defend yourself.

"Yeah, right" he lets out a sarcastic laugh. You raise an eyebrow.

"And you were looking at me too" you spit remembering when you arrived. "You were watching my ass with your friends!" you squeal reproachfully.

"Yes, I did" you admit and open your mouth. "I'm not lying, you have a nice ass and everyone noticed."

Something inside you jumps. Was he watching you as you arrived? Maybe he was waiting for you? Your legs shook at the thought. You didn't want to get stupid ideas about Pedro but you knew he was right.

"What were you saying about me?" he asked after your silence.

You denied playing dumb. The grip on your elbow slipped and he grabbed your arm to pull you back to him. With a gasp from the sudden movement you fall back into his chest and his lips brush your face. You are motionless, under his control and you do nothing to change it.

"Nothing" you provoke him by playing innocent.

You're not going to stop him, you want to see how far he's capable of going and you're ready for anything. His other hand wraps around your waist and pulls you closer against his body. You can feel the heat coming off your bodies, electric currents shoot to your thighs as you remember he's naked.

The atmosphere is different from before, now you are needy, desperate, burning. The fire in his eyes infect yours and you want this as much as he does.

"What were you saying about me?" he repeated and you licked your dry lips without speaking.

The pressure in your crotch was starting to hurt, your wet clothes were starting to bother you and even though you were still dressed you felt volnerable under his gaze. You remained speechless, you couldn't, you were lost in his pink lips, in his pitch black eyes, in his slightly overgrown beard around his chin.

"We don't talk about you, Pedro" you lie again.

Pedro grimaces, narrowing his eyes. The hand on your waist presses down and lifts you off the ground, making you squeal as your back stamps against the wall. Your legs wrap around his lower back and you can feel the air turn toxic around you.

The friction generated in your crotch makes you gasp but you swallow the gasp pretending to be strong in front of him. You are so hot but you like playing with him, he played with you before anyway.

"Liar" he spits so close to your lips that you are tempted to kiss him but he won't let you.

You understand his game perfectly and if he wants to play, you're going to play.

Your fingers hold his shoulders strong and you move them down the back of his neck until you reach the beginning of his hair to stroke it. Your chest rises and falls frantically and you grab his neck to pull him to you, when your mouth is at his ear level... you decide to burn.

"I was telling them how fucking sexy you looked tonight" you whispered brushing your lips against his lobe.

"Oh yeah?" he gasps on a sigh.

You nod watching him. Again, his face faces yours and you want to kiss him but you hold back.

You don't tell him the whole truth, you'll die of embarrassment if he knew that your friends were encouraging you to get close to him. You didn't want him to know that you found him interesting.

You wait for some other comment but instead you get the caress of his hands leave your lower back and move straight to your butt, circling it. When he presses down so hard, you moan as you feel the rubbing of your center against his abdomen.

You are both ready to burn and the fire, once lit, is hard to put out. You know that even he won't come out unscathed tonight and that thrills you.

His gaze moves down from your mouth to your chest, because of the wet clothes, your lace bra can be seen to perfection and with it your erect nipples. He relames his lips and you want to be the one to moisten them, so you grab him by the jaw and kiss him fiercely.

Enough games, that's enough. And he knows it because he welcomes you perfectly by sticking his tongue in your mouth, caressing your ass while your fingers press his face to you. Everything around you stops and it's just you, in the rain from the shower, warm and ready to have at each other.

"Take my clothes off" you ask between his lips. Pedro smiles biting your lower lip, lowering you to the floor to unfasten your pants.

He delicately pulls them down your leg until they fall to the floor on their own and begins to undo the top you were wearing and pull it away from your body. You want to kiss him again but he stops you, starting to pull down the straps of your bra, playing with them. You are gawking under his control and his gaze and you can't say or do anything.

He has you trapped.

He brings his mouth to your chest and leaves a hot kiss on your collarbones, moving down to the center of your chest and finally to the beginning of one of your breasts, where he bites down making you squeal with pleasure. His other hand takes over the other nipple and presses it into the fabric, circling it to torture you. Moans come out of your mouth like music to his ears and when his hand detaches your bra, you smile like a victory. The piece of fabric disappears from view and now his lips and fingers find your needy nipples.

You want to scream, to cry, to squeeze, you can't hold back as his teeth bite and suck. You want everything from him, you need everything from Pedro. One of his hands leaves your breast to move down your belly, groping the area, making you gasp. He reaches your crotch, his fingers trail down your thighs and just when you think he'll ease your pain, he stops.

He leaves your breasts to look at you again, your eyes are pure fire when they connect with his and when you feel his fingers slip through the only piece of clothing that covered you, you are completely naked before him. You are now hand in hand and ready for anything. Your fingers grab his hair and tug it gently as you feel the heat welling up from your crotch, he likes to play with you and you won't beg for it but you will give him incentive. Your mouth takes place on his neck and you begin to lick him sensually, leaving wet trails of your tongue and biting in places to hear him moan.

Pedro slams you back against the wall to gain access to you, his body comes between yours and he lifts one of your legs to wrap around his waist. You can feel his erection rubbing against your thighs and the craving burns in your heat, you want him to take you right now. Your face returns to his as you are about to beg, your foreheads meet and you feel the tip of his cock caress your hot lips, you swallow saliva because your throat is so dry it hurts. Your arms go around his broad shoulders and you feel him thrust into you in one thrust, making you cry out and press your nails into his skin. Your stimulation and the shower water falling on your bodies made the process more pleasurable as you both pant heavily.

Your walls adapt to it faster than you think and it begins to move inside you so slowly that you think you will die. You need him so badly you don't mind begging.

"P-pedro" you whisper begging.

His smile widens and his eyes are those of the devil himself.

"Stop calling me that" he says starting to speed up his movements as if he scolded you.

You hear his complaint but you can't respond. Not when every fiber of your body fills with pleasure and you lose yourself in a blur. His movements are erratic and firm, you moan with each one and you don't let yourself be silenced, you are enjoying it and so is Pedro. Drops of water slide down your skins, your hair soaking wet, your bodies warm and moist.

Your chest heaves with joy, your heart pounds so hard in your chest you think you'll have a fit. You hug his shoulders tightly clutching at his hard strokes, you don't shut up. He's so deep inside you that you can feel the throbbing of his cock in your walls, his fingers incarnate in your skin, his mouth leaves traces on your shoulders.

The air becomes suffocating, courage floods the room, for minutes you think you will faint, your feet are tired but you don't care you don't want him to stop.

His hands find place on your thighs and he pulls you back against him to accommodate you, your back slams against the cold wall of your bathroom. He penetrates you again, harder this time as he has a perfect position to fuck you hard enough against the wall and you love that. Your hands wrap around his chest and you pinch his skin, begging for more and more.

In your mind everything was blurry, dark and confusing. You wanted to think, to try to assimilate what was happening but you were blank. You weren't thinking clearly, you could only be grateful for the feeling of release you were feeling. You were lost in his eyes as he kept pushing himself into you, passion cornered them and wouldn't let them go.

You wanted to think about Fermín, damn it. You were embarrassed at the thought of Fermín finding out you were fucking Pedro, he had heard the endless times you complained about him. If he saw you right now, he'd probably laugh in your face. From hate to love... or rather, from hate to passion, there is only one step. A very short one that ends in temptation and temptation in need.

Your grip became tighter as the pressure on one belly made you tremble, the orgasm was near and you could feel it in every atom of your body. Pedro felt it too, of course, your cries had become desperate. You moaned his name over and over again and this time, he didn't mind you calling him Pedro. It was the opposite. His lips turned into a smile as he accelerated his movements to see you explode and he did. Spasms went through your system as you reached orgasm, Pedro kept pounding in just the right place filling you with pleasure. You screamed so loud that the lump in your throat broke and you fell surrendered on his shoulders.

"Wait a little longer, princess" he whispered in your ear and you nodded.

His lips met yours again and this time you took them desperately, you had missed the sensation of the sweetness of his lips. Your mouths matched perfectly, the softness of his lips caressing, the hardness of your tongues touching. You were caught up in the moment, enveloped in the thin layer of steam dazed by the feeling of explosion. The pounding in your crotch was becoming intense, Pedro's moans were quiet in your mouth but you released his lips to listen to him.

He squeezed your ass, preparing to hold you when his orgasm would come and you smiled as you watched him pucker his face. A curse came out of his mouth and was trapped in yours as you kissed him fiercely again. You could hear him grunt as you felt him spill inside you, just like an animal mating.

His hips slowed down, making you bristle from the overstimulation, probably tomorrow your crotch would ache but you didn't mind at all. The kiss ended when his hands helped you off him, gently taking you by the waist. Your breasts heaving, your eyes sparkling and your hearts skipping.

You were a little shy to look at him again after what had just happened so much that you hid your face in his chest. Pedro sighed hugging your back to cover you. The water was still pouring down on you and now you were definitely going to take a shower. You were exhausted and sore, you weren't going to care if he took your shower gels or slept in your bed. It didn't matter anymore that you'd had to drag him home or that your friends had abandoned them. Not with what had just happened.

And you were willing to put it all aside to get him back.

Again and again.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #fc barcelona #pedri #pedri x you #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader

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mysuperiors · 2 months

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Your trainer, Hunter, was a 24 year old cocky bro with a deep voice and a swagger in his walk. Every day he would watch you with disinterest as you struggled through basic exercises while you tried to get your fitness back on track. You thought you needed a trainer to help you stay motivated, but he barely paid you any attention.

Today, though he seemed more in the mood to talk. He was asking you what you did for a living, and when you told him that you worked as a fundraising director for a small nonprofit. He asked you directly how much that paid. You figured he was interested in exploring his career options, so you were honest and you told him $125,000.

He laughed and pulled out his phone, tapped a few buttons and showed you how much was sitting in his Stash account. He had over $300,000 there. He swiped over to his Venmo, which had $2500. “That’s what I made just yesterday,” he bragged. “Faggots will buy anything from me. I sold underwear, socks, running shorts, used sneakers… one dude, even asked me to jizz in a condom and send it to him.”

Seeing the incredulous look on your face, he went on. “One guy paid for a private zoom call with me. $750 for an hour. He wanted me to wear a MAGA hat and tell him how pathetic I thought he was. He went fucking feral when I turned the hat around, pulled my shirt off, called him a faggot, and flexed my arms. I ordered him to vote for Trump in the election, and I think that sent him over the edge. He started breathing really heavy and jizzed all over his fat gut.”

“Shit,” you said, stunned and but confused. “$750 for an hour? So how much do you make in a month?”

“Between Only Fans and selling shit, this job, and doing private chats, like 50k,” he shrugged. “For like the last couple years.”

“Wait. So you’ve made over a million dollars?”

“Yeah dude. I’m not trying to spend the next 40 years of my life slaving away like a pathetic loser like you at some stupid job when every sissy fag out there is willing to pay up just to look at me,” he said with a laugh.

The insult hurt, and it must’ve shown on your face because he put a hand on your shoulder and looked you right in the eye. “How does it make you feel to know that somebody half your age is three times as rich as you’ll ever be?”

“I… I mean…”

“Listen, I see the way you look at me every day when you’re in here. I respect that you’re putting in the work, but you’re a weak fucking loser to get this fat and sad in the first place. And loser faggots need to pay the tax. So we are finishing up here and you’re going to go into the locker room with me and you’re gonna give me all the money in your wallet and then you’re going to send me more. And in return I’m gonna give you this shirt. Now thank me for letting you give me money.” he said this so confidently and so directly. He knew exactly how much power he had and how little you had.

“Thank you,” you said hesitantly.

“Sir,” he said with a hint of warning in his voice. “Learn some respect.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now let’s go get my money.”

#male worship #alpha master #muscle god #alpha jock #ripped #handsome #alpha man #cash master #gym bros #androphilia #serve and obey #obey

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gallifreyriver · 2 months

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So, Kellogg's Boycott. Again. Haven't seen any posts about it here yet, so figured I'd make one.

In short: We're all tired of these big companies gouging their prices just because they can, and calling it 'inflation.' We're tired of companies announcing record profits while they cut bonuses/lay people off/force workers to run on skeleton crews/etc. We're tired of "Shrinkflation" And we're tired of a bunch of other shit too, but you get my point.

So, vote with your wallet.

On April 1st, stop buying Kellogg's, and keep that up until June 30th. Just three months- just one quarter of the fiscal year. Companies report earnings each quarter, and if their earnings drop it will reflect in these quarterly reports.

Why Kellogg's?

Because their CEO recently pulled a "Let them eat cake." TLDR; Kellogg's has raised prices by 28% across the board, bragged about record breaking profits, and then suggested that families struggling to afford groceries, because of aforementioned price gouging, just "eat cereal for dinner!"

And well, that message was not well received by anyone, as one could imagine. Pissed a lot of people off.

So yeah. The plan is to stop buying any Kellogg's products (below) for the entirety of the second quarter (April 1st-June 30th) and to collectively tell Kellogg to fuck off until they lower their prices. The goal isn't to "destroy the company" or cost anyone their jobs- but we will hit them where they will listen. Their profits.

If they don't listen, then we don't come back, and we start in on the next company, and keep going until they all get the message. There's always alternatives (more on that below) and we don't need them. If they refuse to drop their prices, then we just stick with the alternatives we found.

Three months is a minor inconvenience to teach a corporation a lesson, and we can do it.

So, take this month before April to find your alternatives. If you need help, I based a non-comprehensive list (below) off the image above. There's tons more just a google search away, and I bet others have made lists as well. There's also always the option to make your own. There's tons of recipes online showing how to make dupes of your favorite products.

Some things to note:

Don't go stocking up on your favorite Kellogg's products the last week of March and think you're not crossing the picket line. The point is to make Kellogg's feel the loss in profits, and stocking up on Cheez-its beforehand will defeat the purpose. I sincerely promise you can make it three months without buying Kellogg's. Again, three months is a minor inconvenience to teach a corporation a lesson, and we can do it.

That said, Safe Foods are acknowledged. If you or your child is neurodivergent and has issues with food (i.e: literally won't be won't be able to eat at all without their safe food) you get a pass. By all means feel free to try and find alternatives, but it's very unlikely that the few who can't boycott will cause it to fail. There should be plenty of the rest of us to pick up the slack.

Don't be a bystander- meaning don't go about this thinking "Oh, well surely there's enough people boycotting that it's fine if I just-" No. If we ever want things to change then we need to be strong enough to do even something as small as not buying something we like for three months. Furthermore, it's on those of us who can afford Kellogg's products to boycott Kellogg's. It's not the responsibility of those who already can't afford Eggos to boycott Eggos. Nothing will change if you go about just assuming everyone else already has it handled for you. Take a stand.

And importantly, Spread the word. This only works if we let as many people as possible know about it.

So reblog this post, or make your own post, or both. Even feel free to copy and paste this entire post off-platform if you need to. I've also seen some suggest making flyers, or even just writing on post-it notes, and sticking them to Kellogg's products in the store to spread the word off-line.

Just get the word out there. If we ever want these companies to stop gouging us for every cent we've earned, then we have to make a stand somewhere.

If we do nothing it will only ever get worse.

#kelloggs boycott 2024 #kelloggs #kelloggs boycott #corporate greed #boycott #eat the rich #ceo #let them eat cake #let them eat flakes #“Fuck you. Fools” day #fuck corporations #fuck capitalism #wendys #shrinkflation #price gouging #kelloggs ceo

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bambi-slxt · 9 days

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🤍𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 2.3k exactly (i'm very proud of myself)

genre/tropes: established friendship, one-sided love (or is it?)

warnings: slight angst

notes from bambi: thank you to everyone who voted for this idea, sorry it came out late please forgive me 🥺

“Can we please get out of here,” Chris grumbled, pulling his beanie down over his face.

“So dramatic.” I tugged my wallet out from under the covers. “Come on.”

“We’re goin’ to Cane's, we’re goin’ to Cane's.”

“You’re chanting again,” I said as I closed the garage door behind us.

He opened my car door, slipping past Matt’s van. “God forbid a man has hobbies.”

“Sure, but you’re not a man.” In true gentleman fashion, he scrunched his nose at me. “Buckle up, weirdo,” I laughed.

We drove in comfortable silence. Darkness had sunken low over Los Angeles, though the city tried its best to keep the light around forever. Apartments glittered up into the night, cars rushed past, and from my speakers, a Travis Scott song thumped rhythmically underneath it all.

As we drove, I rested my left hand atop the steering wheel and touched his arm with my right. Chris looked over with his eyebrows raised. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I said, glancing away from the road for a moment to meet his gaze. “I just think you’re cool.”

“Thanks, kid,” he replied with a grin, looking back to the road. Is he shy? There’s no way.

I drove the rest of the way with my hand resting on his forearm, which he had helpfully rested on the center console.

“Who’s paying,” I murmured, turning the car slowly into the parking lot.

“I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you drove, it’s fair.”

“Mkay.”

Walking into Cane's was always a religious experience for me. Voices milled around us as college kids found groups of friends and joined tables together, children ran around begging for more lemonade, DoorDashers ran out with food, and order numbers were called out over the fray.

I sighed. “There simply aren’t enough places where I can get good food for less than ten dollars.”

“Facts,” Chris said. “You want the same thing?”

I nodded and laid my head on his shoulder while we waited in line. Normally not the touchy one in our friendship, something felt different about tonight, I felt different–more open, relaxed. Safer.

That is until he leaned over and pretended to bite my scalp.

Giggling, I pushed him away to fix my hair and he chuckled, looking up to the menu. My stomach tingled.

“–and that’ll be all. ‘Preciate it,” Chris said, taking our cups and moving to the drinks station.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Whaddaya want?”

I filled my cup and surreptitiously watched him fill his. Chris’s arm tensed in the harsh downlighting and the ridges of his veins became ever more prominent. I shook my head to erase the thoughts as though I were some kind of Etch-a-Sketch. I need to chill out.

Chris carried our food out to the car and I tossed him my keys. The parking lot was pretty empty–most people went through the drive-thru. I stepped over a curb and let my body swing around, arms flowing lazily at my sides. The air didn’t feel as heavy at night, even here in Smog City. I felt awake and content with being alive.

“What are you doin’?” Chris leaned against the car braced on one arm, watching me with a half-smile.

“Dancing, clearly,” I huffed, lifting my arms above my head for another turn.

“I’m gonna eat your fries,” he said with a shrug. At my shriek of protest, he snatched the bag of food and ducked into the passenger seat as I tore after him. I slammed the door behind me and fell into my seat, reaching out for the bag. “Give it, jackass!” I yelled with a wide grin. Chris pulled it into the air which caused me to collapse on his lap.

“I give up,” I groaned and laid there with my nose in his stomach.

“So dramatic.” He ruffled my hair again. “Sit up, I’ll get your food.” I looked up at him through the stray hairs he’d created and he looked right back. “What?”

I smiled and sat up, situating myself in my seat again. He paused before handing me my box of chicken and fries. “Did you get extra sauce?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think?” He rifled through the bag as I stole a fry from his box and returned to my own.

“I saw that.”

“Saw what?”

“You’re not slick.”

“yOu’Re NoT sLiCk,” I harped. “I’m just a girl.”

“Just a thief, maybe.”

“You wound me.”

“Don’t steal my fries then.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. Chris tilted his head in disbelief, and promptly proceeded to return the favor.

We munched in the quiet for a while. It felt peaceful, and not awkward at all. Chris could come across that way when he didn’t talk, but he actually enjoyed silence sometimes–it gave his mind time to catch up to him.

“Chris, look,” I murmured, pointing. A group of girls staggered through the drive-thru, laughing their heads off.

“Ooh, okay,” he said, putting his drink down and shifting in his seat. “Here we go.”

Our favorite game–coming up with stories of the people around us. We were the worst people to go to the airport with.

“So, girl in the pink.”

“Definitely planned the whole outing.”

“You think so?” I sipped my drink.

“You can tell because she’s the most wasted.”

“Drinking to forget the annoyance–I can sympathize.” Chris so graciously bestowed upon me a side-eye of putrid proportions, and I pretended to ignore him completely. “My turn.”

“Cool Shirt Girl.”

“Dragged out of the house by the Dress Girl. Would much prefer being at home or doing something more chill than bar-hopping.”

“Oh, they’re bar-hopping?”

I studied the group for a moment. “Yes.”

“Noted.”

“What about Miss Bandana, what do we think about her?”

Chris sat up straighter. “She’s cute.”

“Not the point.”

“So you also think she’s cute.”

“I plead the Fifth. What’s her story?”

He stared unabashedly for a long moment before he spoke. “She doesn’t think she belongs with them.”

I blinked. “Defend your answer.”

“What is this, English class?”

I cut my eyes at him, he smirked, and continued. “Look at how she’s walking, she’s not having as much fun as everyone else but she wants to, look, she’s adding to the conversation, she’s making sure Pink Girl doesn’t fall over…but she’s not starting anything new to talk about, she doesn’t seem super confident. But no one who wears a bandana is shy so it has to be her insecurities about this event in particular, or these people in particular.”

He bit his chicken tender in half thoughtfully.

I sat agape. “Where the hell did that come from.”

“Hm?”

“That was a wild amount of description. And…probably very accurate, now that I think about it.”

“I love these games,” Chris chirped as he settled back into his seat cushion.

“You’re so goofy,” I responded. “Hey Chris?”

“Yep.”

“Why’d you wanna go out tonight?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you want to get out of the house tonight?”

He shrugged, still looking at the restaurant in front of us.

My eyes narrowed. “You left me a two-minute-long rambling voicemail about how bad you needed to see me.”

Chris didn’t react–or at least, not in a way a stranger would notice. His breath changed its pattern, he shifted his feet on the floorboard, and his grip on the armrest tightened. I waited quietly, holding my gaze on his face so he would know he wasn’t off the hook.

He took a deep breath. “I…wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” I said softly, sipping my drink.

“How do you know if you love someone?”

I choked on the liquid in my throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Like…” he huffed a sigh of frustration. “Like what does love even mean?”

“Well, I think–”

“And how does everyone just know? What does it feel like to be in love? How can you trust that your feelings won’t go away over time? And why am I so scared of it? Who decided what love meant? Why were they the expert, what did they do to be so “in-the-know” about love anyway? Because it’s like–”

“Chris.” He was panting now. “Breathe, kid,” I said, touching his arm again. “Do you want me to answer your questions and give you advice, or do you just want me to listen?”

“No, I want to know, I just…It’s annoying. I hate feeling stupid.”

“And you feel like…you’re stupid when it comes to love?”

“Yeah. The romantic kind.”

I hummed. “You seem to have family love figured out pretty well.”

“Well sure, but I got lucky with Nick and Matt,” he sighed.

“I think romantic love is basically the same.” He looked at me quizzically. “It’s like…Love, to me, is waking up every day and choosing that person regardless of what the day is gonna throw at you. Like if your channel disappeared tomorrow, you wouldn’t ditch your brothers. If your parents died, you wouldn’t leave Nick to deal with it on his own, you wouldn’t ignore how that affected Matt, you know?” Chris nodded thoughtfully. He looked at the dashboard but I realized his mind was probably very far away from the physical attributes of my car. I went on. “Love is different for everyone, so you may not agree with what I think about love, but someone will, and that’s probably one of the people I need in my life. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Chris answered quietly.

“Also, don’t feel stupid. I don’t know fuck-all about math, but does that mean I’m…I don’t know, ‘less-than’ other people who know more about math?” He shook his head and I laid a hand gently on his forearm. “Romantic love is such a small part of all of the love there is in the world and I really think you sell yourself short by placing so much value on people’s knowledge or experience with it. You’ve never been in a romantic relationship before, right? So how would you know? There’s nothing wrong with that, seriously. I haven’t either, does that mean I’m dumb?” Chris grinned at me and I turned away to hide my smile. “Don’t answer that, you dick.” He threw his head back in a laugh, at which point I rolled my eyes so hard it made my brain hurt. “Anyway…” I huffed, trying and failing to appear annoyed, “You’re doing great in the love department. I wouldn’t worry about it at all.”

He nodded and seemed to be satisfied with my answer. “You want a fry?”

“Yes.”

Chris pulled one from his bag and held it out to me. I tried to take it but he snatched it back and held it higher. “Come on, I thought you said you wanted it.”

“Jackass.” I opened my mouth expectantly. Chris placed the salty fry on my tongue and wiped his fry-oil-covered fingertips on my chin as I closed my mouth. I tried to bite him and he yanked his hand away.

“Down, girl.”

“Grrr.”

“Thank you.”

“Hm?”

“For earlier. That helped.”

“Good,” I said, letting the humor filter away from my features until (I hoped) only kindness and empathy remained. “I’m glad.”

A beat of silence passed, during which I turned back to my own food.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

I looked up at him. Chris’s eyes were not on mine. “I love you too, Chris. You mean the world to me.”

“I’m not sure how I love you.”

I sensed he had more to say, so I waited, brows crinkled.

With an anxious inhale, he continued. “I don’t know if it’s…family love or…something else.”

“That’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

I squeezed his arm. “It is.”

A pause.

“Come here,” I said. I gathered Chris into my arms and he pulled me tightly against him, our torso’s separated by the center console. He smelled like cold spices and the mountains. “I care about you,” I whispered, gentle as I could possibly be. “Whatever form that takes.”

His hand slid up and down my back, pressing hard against me–like he was desperate for something, or feeling emotions he couldn’t articulate.

“You are…very cool.”

I chuckled in spite of myself. “Thank you, Christopher.”

“I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied in a more serious tone, squeezing him tight. He returned the favor, and he would continue until his arms ached and his chest begged for relief. We did this sometimes, in moments of great emotion. The words Chris knew could not equate to the sentiments Chris felt, so sometimes we just held each other until we couldn’t anymore. It had only happened twice before.

When he finally loosened his grip, I rubbed his shoulder and leaned back into my chair. “Was that what you called about?”

“Partly,” he said. “Also we haven’t talked so I just wanted to know if you were like…good.” He chuckled. “How’s your love life?”

“Nothing to report.” Liar.

“...That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Say something.

“You wanna head home?”

“Sure!” Say anything.

“Cool.”

I started the car. The engine roared to life as I adjusted my seat and reversed out of our parking spot.

“Thank you for…all of that,” Chris said.

“You’re welcome,” I murmured back, looking anywhere other than his eyes. He couldn’t see the tears in mine–I wouldn’t let him. Chris didn’t need my drama right now.

We drove home with more music than conversation. I dropped him off and watched him walk inside, the boys’ massive garage door sliding down behind him. The car idled in the street for a while as I stared into the darkness.

My phone buzzed in the cupholder–a text from Chris.

iMessage from Orange Juice:

come over more often

i missed hanging out with you

you’re a rly good friend

Thanks <3 you too i guess, I typed, ignoring the hot tears that spilled down my cheeks.

idea inspired by the following track:

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

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Yandere Coworker (part 5)

Tw: non-con touching, coercion, molestation, Afab/fem reader

Masterlists, part 1, part 6

Damn now that my account is blowing up cause of our resident asshole Cyprus, lemme introduce yall to my favourite Yandere oc Yves

And his respective Series featuring my cringefail yandere Montgomery

Btw vote down below

"It's five, baby. Stop working." He ruffled your hair, you whined as you fixed them with your fingers.

You looked up to see him casually leaning against your cubicle, holding his suitcase in a hand and his car keys in another.

You said you need to finish your work.

"The company paid you for your time from 9 to 5. Not 9 to 5:10. Come on, princess. I already clocked you out." He teasingly rubbed the shell of your ear, making you recoil and complain, you told him to not touch you.

And he did the exact opposite. He dropped his suitcase just so he could utilize both hands to tickle you. You tried stifling your laughter, but it was near impossible when he blew raspberries onto your neck while his hands attacked the most sensitive part of your sides.

"I can't touch you, huh? What are you gonna do about it, pretty girl?" He rapidly fired kisses onto your face. You can feel the cold frame of his glasses pressing against your skin each time he smooches you.

You relented. Saying you give up and will stop working for the day if he lets you go from this tickle torture of his.

He stopped, and you took a few seconds to catch your breath. You thank the stars that the office was mostly empty, save for a few coworkers working overtime.

You frowned, got up from your seat, and began packing. He watched you with a satisfied grin on his stupidly handsome face.

You're uncomfortably pressed against his side as your eyes darted between him and his TV. Your arms were forced to be sprawled on his broad, bare chest. He paid no mind to your squirming as his hand mindlessly rubbed your hips, towards your buttocks and locked you in place. Whenever he switches the channel, there is a brief moment where the screen would turn black. You would stare back at the reflection between the two of you. This would have seemed cozy and sweet, if only you agreed to be Cyprus's girlfriend.

He has a carnivorous diet, Cyprus fed you dinner which consisted of steak, mashed potatoes, gravy and peas. Of course, all served in a paper plate which was then disposed of. The lunch he bought you this afternoon was of similar nature.

You told him you have to head back home. It's getting late and you did what he told you. All of them.

He dangled your wallet over your head, making you do tasks that become more and more upsetting and perverted.

Cyprus started with asking you to help clean up the table while he took a shower. You agreed, thinking you could take your belongings and leave while he's busy. But only your bag was present, you later found out that he brought your precious wallet into the bathroom with him.

He then told you to take a shower too. You locked your door and even jammed the knob with the mop that's in there.

The next one was to wear one of his oversized shirts. The one that's similar to what you woke up with last Friday.

Then, he told you to give him a 30 second hug. You couldn't push him away or let go, or else he's going to reset the timer. You're tired from jumping, trying to reach the wallet. You couldn't even kick him in the groin with his lightning reflex.

So you did. You wrapped your arms around him and braced for whatever he has next. Only to flinch away when he tucked his calloused hand under your clothes, roaming his digits on your bare back and toying with the hook of your bra.

You shouted at him, feeling angry and violated. He simply rolled his eyes, called you dramatic and walked away, stowing your wallet in his pocket.

You contemplated calling the police and making them deal with him. Then you realize that he managed to snatch your phone again.

You ended up doing the 30 seconds. The entire time, he was licking the nape of your neck, groping you everywhere and grinding his crotch against yours. You cried hot tears when he slipped his hand into your underwear, caressing the vulnerable flesh underneath.

You felt suffocated when he crowded you to a wall. You couldn't jerk your hips to avoid his frotting because the wall was in the way.

However, he was a man of his word. The alarm on his phone went off after exactly 30 seconds, he allowed you to leave and handed you your wallet.

But not your phone.

He tried consoling you by cooing sweet nothings into your ear, it just sounded patronizing and demeaning despite his sugary words.

You managed to say through your sobs that you wanted your phone back. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pretending that he couldn't understand your babbling. Cyprus talked to you in a sickening baby voice, as if you're dumb and silly.

That's what got you lounging next to him on the couch as he surfs the channels. He told you that you'll earn your phone back after this.

He yawned, turning his head to give you a peck. "No. I don't think you did enough to earn it."

You let out an exasperated cry, asking him what else he wanted from you.

He stared at your face for a bit before chuckling to himself. "Cute."

You complained, whined and hit his chest with considerable force. Yet he wouldn't budge his hand from your rear.

"Princess, look at me." Commanded Cyprus as he took his glasses off. You did as you were told.

"Stay the night." He whispered before kissing you on the lips. "We could cuddle." He slid his soft, and supple pair of lips down to your neck, to the spot where he knew would make you moan the loudest.

"Or we could have fun 'till the sun rises." He breathed into your ear huskily, giving your ass a squeeze and your neck a suckle.

You whined and mewled, trying to push him off you weakly but it felt embarrassingly good. Toes were curled and cheeks were heating up while he slipped his hands under the large T-shirt, feeling every square inch of your skin.

You shoved him off you when he managed to unclasp your bra. Hands were crossed in front of your chest as you moved away as far from him as possible.

His face expressed disappointment and annoyance. But it lightened up when he saw that he gave you a very visible Hickey. It's sizable and dark enough that you would have a hard time concealing it with makeup or clothes.

"Fine, be that way then. You'll give in sooner or later, princess." He wore his glasses as he rose from the couch. While you're fixing the hooks of your bra, he was yawning and stretching his shoulders.

"Come on, let's get to bed. We have work tomorrow." He waited for you by the armrest.

You asked if you stayed the night, he will give everything back to you in the morning.

Cyprus rolled his eyes. "Sure." His hand shot out to grab you by the wrist, he yanked you towards him, making you stumble over yourself and nearly losing your balance.

He seized this opportunity to scoop you off your feet, carrying you in his strong, muscular and veiny arms effortlessly.

No matter how many times you protested or tried to hit him, Cyprus ignored you and kept walking on.

He used his foot to close the door behind him.

You were stressing over the number of eyes on you today. Cyprus was holding you by the waist as you and him ascended the elevator.

Seeing that Jane is there, souring the carefree mood of the office for everyone, Cyprus also scowled.

He clocked in for the both of you before escorting you to your cubicle, dropping your suitcase off as well. Your manager was burning holes into him, curious about the relationship between her most difficult employee and her most hardworking (yet spineless) one.

Her eyebrows cocked upwards when Cyprus pressed a kiss onto your forehead before ruffling your hair into a bird's nest.

She was mostly surprised at first, even amused. But when she saw the time that you arrived, her expression darkened. Cyprus has infected you with his disease, you would usually come in much earlier than this.

She does not need another "slacker" in the office to spread their bad influence.

She opened her mouth to comment about something to you. Sighing, you expected this to happen, it comes with the package of "dating" Cyprus.

"You got a minute, Jane?" The dreaded confrontation was interrupted by Cyprus's sudden interjection.

He led Jane into the conference room, where the frosted glass and soundproof walls gave them the much-needed privacy.

You're grateful that he pulled her away for whatever business he needs to talk about. Now, you could focus on your work, getting as much done before she comes out and starts biting your head off.

You were too engrossed in your work to notice that she came out looking quite shaken. As if she had seen a ghost.

Jane had walked away, leaving your department to work on their own without her soul killing micromanaging. Deciding to exert her power onto some other floor.

"She won't bother you anymore, princess." You jumped as you felt Cyprus's breath tickle the back of your neck.

He laughed at your reaction. "You're too damn cute for your own good."

You asked Cyprus what he told her.

"Watch my match tonight and I'll spill." He must be referring to his boxing hobby.

You asked where it is.

"Can't tell you. Won't tell you."

You said how could you attend if you don't even know where the venue is. He clicked his tongue in slight annoyance.

"I'm driving you there anyways, why would you need to know anything when I'll take care of everything?" He placed a hand on his hip as he leaned against your cubicle wall.

You asked what time it would be.

"Just get ready when I tell you to."

You said that you don't check your phone often. You need a set time when he would pick you up, should you agree to come and watch him fight his poor opponent.

"Who said you'll be getting ready at your place?" He smirked.

You said you're not going back to his place.

He displayed mock hurt, he pouted and whined softly to tease you. "You're so mean, baby."

You repeated that you're not going back to his place again.

"I guess you won't be needing this anymore then." he pulled out your ID from his back pocket.

You tried to swipe it from him as usual, but you failed. You looked up at him.

"You know the drill, pretty girl." He brought his face close to yours.

You thought about your choices. You're curious, wondering what made The Jane of your department scared shitless. You're also curious as to how a boxing match look in real life. Finally, you need your ID.

However, you could always make a new one and claim you lost it. It's not like you need your ID urgently, plus, it could send Cyprus a message that you're willing to go through this much hassle to get away from him.

You took a deep breath when you're ready to say your answer.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc cyprus #male yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x darling #yandere coworker

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thisreadswhatever · 1 year

Text

To Keep Me Safe From You: Part One

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 3.1k+

[summary]: after overhearing a conversation that could be detrimental to the future of samcro, the club has voted that you have to die. fortunately for you, jax has to complete the kill.

[cw]: 18+, female reader(y/n), swearing, mentions of murder throughout, knives, smut, cliff hanger, possible grammar/spelling errors, generally following the show but slightly AU

[authors note]: so this one shot turned into something more and will be getting a part two as i'm not done with this scenario. i realised during this just how hard it is for me to write in a way where i don’t want jax to come tape me up and murder me... so sometimes the reader (y/n) makes some really questionable decisions, simply because i would let this man get away with anything. i hope you enjoy it :)

“We really talking about offing a chick right now?” Juice stared at his fellow members with wide eyes.

“She heard everything, Juice.” Even though he was whispering, Tig’s panic was loud and clear. “You wanna be the one to risk prison time over some waitress in a diner?”

Jax slammed his hand on the table, “We. Don’t. Kill. Women.”

Bobby looked around at the eyes now peering towards their table before shaking his head at Jax in disapproval, “We also don’t talk about club business outside of Chapel, for this exact reason.”

Tig doubled down now he knew Bobby agreed. “She heard too much. I saw it in her eyes, Jax. I can handle the hit. I’ll follow her out back, it’ll look like she was mugged. No witnesses. No trace.”

“Do you hear yourself right now brother? We don’t even know if she heard-” Juice stopped abruptly as he saw you walking over to their table, bill in hand. You smiled at the blonde haired man sitting at the end of the bench, avoiding the 5 other guys glaring at you. “Is there anything else I can help you guys with today?” He grinned back at you, taking the bill from your hand, “I think we’re all done here.” He placed three twenty dollar bills inside the wallet, a very generous tip, before handing it back to you. “Thanks for stopping by, boys. Get home safe.”

“You too, darlin.’”

Jax watched you walk away, making sure you were out of range before addressing the other members. “See? She heard nothing. That ain’t no witness that’s going to talk to feds. She’s not even spooked.”

Tig scoffed and Bobby lowered his eyes at Jax, “Maybe we should take a vote, Pres.?”

Jax was really pissed now, even contemplating killing a woman made his blood boil. But Bobby was his VP, and he was right, this wasn’t a decision he could make himself. Jax let out a large exhale, glancing at you as you cleaned the last remaining tables. He leaned into the table, “Fine, we vote. All in favor of murdering the poor innocent diner chick. I’ll start. Nay.”

He was the only one who voted so. Juice had almost sided with him, but everything Tig had said persuaded him to change his vote. Tig had panicked the rest of the members into actually killing a woman. Jax was outnumbered, and there was nothing more he could do. While you were finishing your night shift, the Sons of Anarchy had just sentenced you to die.

Jax had managed to get Tig to back off, reluctantly agreeing to let him carry out the hit instead. He figured at least he could kill you quickly, saving you from Tig’s twisted methods. The other members had left, leaving him the only 4 seater vehicle they had brought out that evening. Although you didn’t know it, Jax was waiting for you across the parking lot, leaning against the hood of Piney’s car, cigarette in hand. You shut the door to the diner behind you, fumbling with your purse to find your car keys. You were too preoccupied with the broken zipper on your bag to realise the same blonde haired man from earlier was still there, and approaching you.

“Lost somethin’ darlin’?”

“Shit-”, his voice startled you, causing you to drop your purse and everything in it across the lot.

“Fuck, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He helped as you collected the strung out items across the tarmac. “You didn’t mean to scare a girl leaving work on her own in the pitch black at this time of night?” You snapped at him as you searched for your belongings along some hedges. Jax handed you a tube of lipstick and your reading glasses, that had somehow survived the fall.

“I guess I didn’t think that one through. Sorry about that.” He stood up, extending a hand to help you. You barely acknowledged as he spoke, ignoring his hand, as you were desperately scanning the floor.

“Well you’re gonna be really sorry. You have to drive me home. My keys aren’t here..”

“Fuck- you cant find them?” He dropped to his knees again, searching the ground with you. You could barely see in the carpark, you had no chance of finding them until daylight.

“No, they’re gone. What the fuck am I gonna do now?”

Jax stood up, pacing the length of the car park still searching for your keys. “They gotta be here somewhere.”

“This is useless. Can you just take me home?”

Jax smiled, “least I can do darlin’.” He extended a hand to help you up from the ground again, but this time, you took it.

He started walking towards his car, holding a pack of cigarettes out at you. You didn’t smoke, but you also didn’t usually get into cars with strangers, either. You weren’t sure what had come over you, and you felt wary about the whole thing, but you didn’t have many options left with no car keys, and he seemed nice enough. You followed him to the car, taking a cigarette from the pack and holding it up to your mouth as he lit it for you. “I don’t even know your name and I’m about to get in a car with you.” He chuckled. “Names Jax Teller. And I can assure you, I’m a normal guy, just ignore the kutte.”

“Okay then.. Jax. You gonna tell me why a normal guy such as yourself is waiting for a girl outside her place of work at almost midnight?”

He held the car door open for you with a reassuring smile, “I’ll explain on the way home.”

You looked at him through narrowed eyes, “you better get me home in one piece.” You got in the car, flicking the half smoked cigarette on the floor as Jax shut the door behind you.

The inside of the SUV was a mess, the dash covered in raunchy magazines and parking fines. It was hard to think about anything other than the stench of dry oil and stale cigarettes. Jax began to drive, and you directed him on the way to your house, although you got the feeling he didn’t need your help anyway.

“I can get one of the guys to come change the locks on your car tomorrow morning. Get you a new set of keys.”

“That’d be great. You guys locksmith’s or something?”

Jax grinned, one hand on the steering wheel, glancing between you and the road as he drove. “Something like that. We run an auto repair shop out in Charming.”

“Oh. So is this your thing?”

Jax looks at you puzzled, “my thing?”

“Getting girls keys lost so you have to give them a ride home?” Jax shook his head, amused by your assumption. “You’re actually the first.”

Watching him while he drove gave you the chance to study him in fine detail. You’d noticed his good looks earlier at the diner, but now you could see Jax looked like he belonged in a hollywood movie. He held the steering wheel with one hand, the other on the gear stick, his fingers draped in silver rings. His beard was coated in a layer of stubble, with long shaggy blonde hair that tucked behind his ears. He was undeniably attractive. If anyone was going to lose your car keys, forcing you to drive with them for a ride home, you were glad it was him.

He turned on your drive slowly before parking, reaching into the glove box adjacent to you. He searched the compartment, and a load of CD’s fell to your feet. “Shit sorry. There’s no pens in here. You got anything in that bag you can use to write your number down? You know, for the keys.”

“I could grab a pen from inside.”

Jax nodded in response, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

Before you had the chance to say anything, Jax was out of the car and making his way to the passenger side door to open it for you. It was all a little surreal, you’d only met him a few hours before, yet he had shown you more courtesy than any man you’d previously encountered.

You walked with him to the front porch, then searching under the mat for the spare house key. You thought to yourself how you’d have to find a new hiding spot for it tomorrow. You unlocked the front door. As you walked in, switching the lights on as you entered the kitchen, you knew Jax was standing at the door, patiently waiting. You hesitated for a second, debating on the idea of having this random stranger enter your house. On one hand, you knew it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. On the other, he was charming, respectful and like nobody else you’d ever met before. And you knew that after tonight, you’d probably never see him again. “You can come in if you want, I’ll just be a sec’.”

Jax stepped through the doorway, looking around as he followed you to the kitchen, “nice place you got here.” You searched the ‘drawer of everything’ in the kitchen to find an old receipt and pen. “It was my best friend’s house before she went back to Washington. She’s letting me stay here while I save for my own place. I get cheap rent, she gets a free house sitter.” Jax was standing behind you, making you overtly aware of how close he was. “Y/N.” He was reading from the receipt over your shoulder as you wrote down the number to your home phone. “I never did catch your name at the diner. It’s pretty.” You handed him the crumpled up paper, and he placed it in his pocket.

“And you never answered my question.” You turned to face him as you spoke, to find the beautiful blonde stranger holding a large blade against your stomach. “Living room. Now.”

You froze in fear, unable to move. You realised you’d made a huge mistake. You had known the risk of letting him in. You knew better. And now it was too late. You pushed through the lump in your throat to get words out, “Just take what you want and leave. It’s all yours.” “I don’t want your shit, y/n. Walk. Now.” You did as he said, walking slowly towards the living room, feeling the cold blade now pressed against your back. “What do you want?” He pulled your arm back with his free hand, stopping you in the living room. He gestured toward the armchair that sat between the TV and couch. “Sit down.”

“What are you doing, Jax?” You didn’t want to sit, you wanted to run. You wanted to buy yourself some time.

“I said sit down!” Jax’s voice cracked as he yelled at you. Hearing him yell sent a shiver down your spine, and you snapped into the chair in front of him immediately. You could see his face now. His eyes were vacant, completely shifted from the warm, courteous man you’d thought he was when he entered your home. It seemed he’d grown 10 feet taller now, towering over you while you sat frozen and vulnerable in the chair beneath him. He brought himself down to your level, with the knife now at your side, the blade touching your arm.

“You wanted an answer to your question?”

You nodded.

“I waited for you because I have to kill you.”

“To kill me?” Nothing was making any sense. “To kill me..” You repeated, looking straight into his eyes, “but you don’t even know me.” Jax placed the knife into the sheath, and back onto his belt pocket before pulling a roll of duct tape from his kutte. You recognised the tape from the drawer you had searched earlier, but that couldn’t be possible, you told yourself. You never saw him take it.

“You heard some stuff tonight that could ruin lives. And there’s a group of outlaws that want you dead now because of it.”

His words rang in your ears like sirens, putting all your senses into override. You couldn’t catch your breath before Jax was binding your hands together in front of you so tightly you could see the skin pulling under the tape. “And you want me dead too?”

Jax paused to look at you, matching your eyes, before looking down, continuing to tape your hands. “Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Nothing made sense. You hadn’t heard anything they talked about. He had totally got the wrong idea, and if you could just explain it, he could understand.

“Jax, please listen to me. I didn’t hear anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

He closed his eyes as you pleaded with him, “Stop. Talking.”

You pulled your wrists up, trying to touch him with your fingertips, as if that could reach the kind part of him you thought you had seen. Your bound hands pulled at his shirt as you begged.

“I didn’t hear a thing! If I heard some fucked up shit why would I get in a car with you? Why the fuck would I let you in my house!” You felt faint, your ears beginning to ring as adrenalin circulated your veins. He tried to ignore you, and started to tape your legs. You wanted to think straight, to talk sense into him, but your eyes began to fill with water, tears unwillingly streaming down your cheek. “I didn’t hear anything,” you sobbed, “I’m not lying to you.”

Jax dropped the roll of tape on the floor. His hands covered his face as he rubbed his eyes, the words “jesus christ”, muttered through his teeth. Suddenly he stood up, pacing to the kitchen. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the flicking of a lighter. You sat there, bound by tape, in silence, afraid if you said anymore he would come back to finish you off.

Some time had passed. Jax had paced the kitchen before venturing into your bedroom. You’d spent the last few hours weighing your options. You could try to run, but you wouldn’t get anywhere with your hands and legs bound together. If you could get to the phone in the kitchen you could call the cops, but he’d see you before you could even dial the numbers. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, trying to think of anything that may save you. Your planning was halted when you heard footsteps coming from the bedroom. Jax lowered himself down to you, pulling the knife from the sheath. He pointed it towards you, and you braced yourself, knowing any plan you could make was too late. You closed your eyes, awaiting your fate, when you heard the sound of tape ripping and your hands were released from the bind. You didn’t move a muscle. Jax’s eyes smoldered. “I’m not going to kill you.”

You pulled the tape from your wrists, stinging as you peeled back the residue from your skin. “You’re not?” “I can’t kill a woman. And even if I could, I can’t kill you.” He cut the tape binding your feet. You gulped, still sat in the chair as if the tape had never been cut in the first place. You could run now, you should run now, but you didn’t want to.

“What about the outlaws?” your voice was almost a whisper.

“I’ll handle them.” You watched as he began to walk towards the front door. “I’m really sorry for all of this, y/n. I just couldn’t do it.” His face was full of shame, his voice clouded in regret.

You didn’t have time to contemplate before you yelled, “wait!”

Jax stopped in the kitchen, “What?”

“You can’t just go.” You leaned into your knees to stand from the chair, legs stiff from being in the same position all night. As you stood you stretched your legs creating instant relief as you walked towards him. Your mind yearned for the same relief your body had, but now you were just really fucking angry. “You bring me here, tell me I’m going to die, tape me up and then decide you’re not going to murder me anymore. Now you want to just leave? And pretend this never happened?”

“I can’t stay.” He sounded guilty, and his lack of eye contact was further proof of this.

“Why the hell not?” You were standing arms length apart, looking up at the man who was tasked with your murder, yet now you were pleading with him to stay. “What are you even talking about, Jax?” You tried to step closer to him, but he inched back.

“If I’m not killing you, I need to stop whoever is going to instead.”

You didn’t respond, as you were still trying to understand why you needed to be saved at all.

Jax softened, “I know you’re confused but this is the only way I can keep you safe.”

“To keep me safe from you.”

He took a deep breath, taking your face in his hands. His blue eyes had melted, any anxiety he had been wrestling with tonight had passed.

After everything that had happened, somehow, here, in this man’s presence, you felt safe. You now knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He held you there in his hands, searching your face, looking for a different way out. Something in that moment shifted, the air around you moved as if it were wrapping you in string, tying you to Jax, bringing you closer together. He leaned into you, kissing you on the head, seemingly like the beginning of a goodbye. But he didn’t speak, and no goodbyes came. Instead he placed his forehead along yours, breathing you in along with whatever thoughts plagued his mind. You didn’t understand how or why this was happening, and you got the idea that Jax didn’t know either. Before you could make sense of it, he took you into his hands and kissed you. He pulled your face tight to his, securing you to him by the grip his fingers had through your hair. The tension between you was palpable, every movement of his tongue against yours was fierce and urgent.

His hands released and lowered to your waist, pushing you into the open island in your kitchen as you stumbled backwards on your feet. The cold countertop was pressing against the back of your jeans, contrasted to the warmth of his mouth on yours, his hands now tugging at your waist band.

He lifted his hand back to your face, feeling your lips beneath his thumb before sliding it down your neck. The corners of his mouth stretched into a smile as he kissed you.

“I knew there was a reason I couldn’t kill you.”

His tongue lapped against yours, gentle and kind with every touch yet urgent with his hands on you. Groans fell from your throat in response.

You had feared this man all night, and now you were drunk from his lips, and utterly desperate for more.

———

part two

let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 :)

find my masterlist here

#reads whatever writes #jax teller #soa #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller smut #fanfiction #jax teller x y/n #jax teller fiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fic #imagine #juice ortiz #tig trager #bobby munson #samcro #smut

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milawritesstuff · 1 year

Note

I have idea! Y/N going on the business trip and she is gone for like two weeks, Pedri is very horny hahaha and cant wait for her, so he goes one night in that place where is she just to have sex with her 🤭 he of course doesnt say anything to her, him waiting for her in her bed when she is back in her hotel room .. they having the most passionate sex ever and then he has to go back in Barcelona the next morning! Thank you i love you soo much!

A/N: Hope you guys like it. Most of you were voting for the smut one so here you go. I have a few more in my drafts so maybe I’ll post another one tomorrow based on the voting. Enjoy 😉

Warnings: Smut ⚠️

•••

It had been a series of unfortunate events for Pedri. He had been gone with the national team for two weeks. The morning that he returned you were on a plane to Madrid for a business trip. A week later you were back home but with your period. And the night before your period was over you had to fly out to Italy for a business trip. All in all it had been over a month since the two of you had shared some intimate time together and both of you needed it.

He had called you to wish you goodnight and you heard how much he needed you in his voice.

-Te hecho de menos.- I miss you. He slurred into the phone as he proceeded to ask you to help him.

-Just tell me what you would do to me if you were here right now.- You smiled at your boyfriend’s request because the truth was phone sex had never been your forte.

-What if I say I’m touching myself right now?- You whispered into the phone to which Pedri replied with a low moan.

-Fuck.- You heard him say through the phone.

-What’s wrong, Pedri?-

-It’s not the same. I need you.-

-Well, you’ll have to wait another week.-

Then you heard the door to the closet open. A bag plop on the bed and the sound of a zipper opening.

-Pedri, que estas haciendo? What are you doing?

-I’m coming to Italy.-

You laughed into the phone as Pedri explained the team had the next day off and he just needed a few hours to fuck you and return home.

-Pedri, this has to be the craziest thing you have ever done.- You said as he booked the next flight out of Barcelona.

-You know you drive me crazy.-

The flight to Milan was a little under two hours. You were in bed when the hotel phone rang, the front desk letting you know Pedri was here.

A few minutes later you heard a knock on the door. Pedri’s body slammed onto yours as soon as you opened the door.

-Hola, buenas noches Pedri.- You said sarcastically to which he just laughed as his lips met with yours. You could feel the heat radiating from his touch as he pushed you into the room and closed the door with his foot.

He didn’t let a word go on in between the two of you before he had you pinned down on the bed. Him in between your legs. His hands around your ass creeping under your pajama shorts.

You could feel how hard he was and wondered if he had arrived like that. His mouth trailed down from your lips to your neck. Biting down on every inch of your neck as your back arched and your eyes closed. You realized how much you had missed your boyfriend’s touch as well.

You helped Pedri by taking off your clothes while he took his off. You laughed when you realized he had brought nothing with him other than his phone and his wallet. -Where’s your backpack?- You asked as he took off his shirt. -I don’t need my backpack for what I’m about to do.-

He pushed you back onto the bed. This time you decided to take charge, your hands caressing his chest as your lips sucked on his neck. His body trembling over you. He pressed himself against your core, he was more than ready.

Your hand went down to grab his dick as he let out a moan. -I need you.- He huffed as he tried to push himself in you but you didn’t let him. You grabbed him as you moved his tip around your wet folds, him groaning in response. -Eres una cabrona.- He said with a smile knowing damn well you were trying to tease him. You laughed.

-Vamos then.- You said in a low huskey voice sending shivers down Pedri’s back. -Follame.- Fuck me.

Without wasting another minute Pedri went all in. A moan escaped your mouth as you felt him stretch you out. He waited a few seconds before he began to thrust in and out of you. You moved your hips following his movement as you clawed his back with your nails. He felt weak as he felt your walls clench around him.

He looked down at you and almost forgot how to breathe. Your eyes were shinning, your cheeks bright red, and your mouth dry from moaning. The way your nails dug deep in his back every time he sunk into you.

He didn’t stop. It was as if each moan that escaped your mouth gave him more energy. Your juices dripping out of you and down onto his balls. He knew he was doing a good job. He continued to thrust in and out of you with his hands now grabbing your ass as he pushed you up to meet his movements. His mouth giving some attention to your breasts which he loved. You closed your eyes as his soft and warm lips began to nibble on your breasts. -Pedri.- You moaned.

-Mami, tell me how much you like it.- He said in between nibbles which drove you completely wild. He knew he was the best you had ever had in bed. Nobody had ever made you feel like you were in heaven like he did. You felt as his tip went in even deeper, him hard as a rock.

You felt a sudden rush of adrenaline go through your body when he finally plopped down on you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as he continued to ram into you and all you could hear were his whimpers and moans. He felt as you pressed your thighs around him as you felt the pressure in your stomach release and you came. He continued to thrust into you, now going faster while you came down from your high and he could no longer control himself. He moaned out your name as he came inside of you. His body resting over yours as the two of you tried to catch your breathe.

-Te amo. - He whispered as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

TAG LIST:

@cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover @formula1mount

#pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedro gonzalez #pedri is so damn hot #pedri blurb #pedri requests #pedri fluff #pedri one shot #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri fanfic #pedri smut #pedri imagines

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the-mcyt-crackships-brackets · 3 months

Note

i really like clownscar and part of it is because clown has a Thing for guys who seem pathetic. note that i said SEEM -- branzy is hardly incompetent, and crucially neither is scar.

clown thinks he's going to have just some guy, just some wet cat. another trophy builder or what have you. what he GETS is someone roughly twice as unhinged as he is who will con the shit out of you if you let your guard down for all of five seconds. scar pickpockets clown when they kiss and it's obvious the first time. clown threatens him about it. he never catches scar pickpocketing him again but his wallet is still missing two days later.

i cannot stress enough how important it is to me that these two get in an "in love and also there's no escape from each other and the hole they dug" situationship IMMEDIATELY. i would say cubfan tried to warn clown but let's be real he absolutely did not.

the odds on whether clown gets eaten or recruited by the vex are like 60/40.

Yep👍

Vote clownscar!

#mcyt crackships bracket #propaganda #asks #jokes aside this is actually interesting!#love how those crackships forces to find pattern that would work and somehow peoples finds them and the ship become logical in an instant #cub did NOT warn clown he encouraged him before hiding behind a rock to see what happen

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callsignfate · 8 months

Text

Kate Laswell HC's Pt. 2

(Finally posting more Laswell stuff. I always love posting more Laswell stuff. I have plans to finally post more things for her as 'Bonus' posts on top of whatever people vote for)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

♡ Mom energy to the max. Married or not plenty of people have called her mom on accident. She doesn't mind or care when they do.

♡ There is not official height that I can find but I'm guessing she's 5'7 - 5'9 (170cm - 175cm. I'm using Price's official height of 6'0 or 183cm and the scenes of them walking side by side to compare also the VA for Kate is 5'8 but Kate's height is not confirmed so it's just an educated guess/HC)

♡ She crosses her arms when she's frustrated. She 100% looks like a disapproving and disappointed mother.

♡ When she gets excited she just smiles. If you ask her if she's excited about whatever it is then she will say "I'm excited." That's it she can be so hard to read if you don't know her well enough. She always looks grumpy/mad because she's always stressed because of her job.

♡ People often ask her for advice and she will give the best advice she has then say "But don't go off just what I said" or "I dont know." at the end. She's 100% scared someone will take what she says out of context and will do something stupid. (Price 1000% has done this and did something incredibly stupid)

♡ She will rant and talk about her job as much as she can to keep you in her work life as much as possible because of just how much time and effort it takes in her day to day life. She feels that you and work is her life.

♡ Says the sweetest things and offers the best hugs when you are struggling with anything.

♡ She has medical supplies everywhere. Car, house/apartment, desk drawers, backpacks, purses, EVERYWHERE. She's so stressed someone she cares about will get hurt or die and she wants to be prepared.

♡ Makes you take CPR and medical courses with her. If you are clumsy she will always make sure you know what to do if you severely hurt yourself and she's not around.

♡ She always has her hair up, it's rarely ever down. Ponytail, bun, pinned up, ect. Always up. Makes you wonder why she likes her hair long in the first place.

♡ Loves different eye colors, she looks into people's eyes when she talks and she likes to see their eye colors. She also uses this to see your reactions to things.

♡ She is tech savvy. She doesn't have the newest phone or anything but she completely understands how it all works and keeps up with it. She understands computer talk and if you ask her about a new phone or computer she will tell you the downsides.

♡ She doesn't have a purse really, she may have one she got gifted but she has a wallet. Barely anything in there too. Cards, ID and a picture of you.

♡ She didn't have a wedding ceremony or a honeymoon. I feel like it was a courthouse paper signing and a talk of a bigger "fancier wedding" and a promise of a honeymoon.

♡ Talking about honeymoons she travels enough for work so her dream honeymoon is MAYBE traveling somewhere but really she just wants to go home and be with you for longer than the limited time she gets.

♡ She hates traveling. She hates airports. She hates packing. The whole thing isn't something she likes or enjoys in the slightest. Like I said she travels enough she wants to sit still in her home.

♡ Breakfast? She doesn't know her. Coffee and maybe a muffin if she has the time. It's always a coffee. Always.

♡ She's not a morning person, until she gets her coffee. She's grumpy and barely talks until she leans against the counter and sips on her coffee quietly. She'd rather be still in bed laying with you, why would she want to be up at the crack of fucking dawn working?

♡ She has a contagious laugh, when she laughs she always has a genuine smile. Watching her finally break her serious expression all of the time is like a breath of fresh air. She also loves it when you try to make her laugh.

♡ Loves picking on Price. Any chance she gets she's picking on Price. Loves hearing, "It's football, Laswell.." So she will only tell people how she met Price with him around, so he'll say it. They are best friends, although she doesn't say that or really give their platonic relationship a title. She often says, "We're close."

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Masterlist/ More like this/ Request

#kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #laswell mw2 #laswell cod #laswell #kate laswell x fem!reader

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khaire-traveler · 24 days

Text

⚖️ Subtle Themis Worship ⚔️

Try veiling

When you have a big decision/judgement to make, blindfold yourself for a moment; be in a place where you're alone and can think quietly

Vote if you can

Get a candle that reminds you of her (no altar needed)

Keep a picture of her in your wallet

Wear jewelry that reminds you of her

Stay up to date on local politics

Join a local activism group; LGBT rights, POC rights, women's rights, etc.

Support humanitarian organizations or homeless shelters

Have a stuffed animal lion: have a stuffed animal of any creature you associate with justice, order, custom, prophecy, or judgement

Have imagery of the earth/sky, scales, blindfolds, swords, or lions around

Volunteer at a homeless shelter; volunteer at a soup kitchen

Spread the word about injustice, especially related to humanitarian causes

Speak your mind; be honest and direct with others; note that honest does not mean cruel

Get more comfortable with the idea of conflict; look into healthy conflict resolution skills

Join a debate team; spectate or participate in formal debates

Write letters you will never send to people who have done you wrong; burn them (SAFELY!!!)

Try to get involved with your local community; help run events, join groups/clubs, meet new people, etc.

Cook a warm meal for someone in need

Ask someone in need for the things they need most; buy/give them those things if you can

Practice restraint and grounding, especially when it comes to people who annoy you

Try to stay away from gossip; don't spread rumors about others, especially those that you're unsure the integrity of

Get curious about the world around you and the way things work; encourage yourself to question things

Trust yourself; listen to your gut

Work on setting boundaries with others and yourself

Let people know when they've done something that hurt you; ask them to change their behavior or wording

Feel free to give people chances to change, but if they continue not to make changes, don't put yourself through the extra work of keeping them around

Release things that no longer serve you

Work on accepting constructive criticism; try not to take criticism too personally

Get to know yourself better; feel confident in the fact that you know yourself better than others

Keep a self-growth journal; write down things relating to self improvement, how you're feeling, goals you're working towards, etc.

Learn any discreet form of divination; cartomancy, carromancy, pyromancy, tea leaves, etc.

Hold onto family heirlooms

Practice family traditions or create new ones c:

Learn self-defense; learn how to properly use weapons; pepper spray, pocket knife, etc.

Clean up after yourself; don't litter in the environment; pick up litter you come across

Try your best to take the advice you give to others (easier said than done, I know)

Practice patience and mindfulness; release control over the things that you can't control

Ground yourself if you're feeling anxious or stressed over an issue; learn about healthy coping skills for stress or anxiety if you don't know any

Take regular breaks from screens; walk around outside, and enjoy yourself; get some fresh air

Take a walk/hike outside; connect with nature

Drink a calming, soothing, or grounding tea

Take care of yourself after a hard day; be kind and gentle with yourself; engage in comforting activities

I'll likely add more going forward, but for the time being, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Themis. I hope others find this helpful! Take care, everyone. 🧡

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #themis deity #themis #themis worship #paganblr #pagan tips #deity worship

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afandommultiverse · 1 year

Text

OUT-DRINKING THE LIEUTENANT

♱ A/n: GN!Reader and I hope you guys enjoy! Remember requests are open!!

♱ Warnings: drinking dangerously lmao, but none really just a cool little scenario I came up with

♱ WC: 1.2k

⌐╦̵̵̿ᡁ᠊╾━ ♡ ⌐╦̵̵̿ᡁ᠊╾━

♱ it had been a good mission, great even. honestly, it was the smoothest mission since you arrived and started working under task 141. you were still learning where you fit in among the other men in the group, but after this last mission, you felt pretty good.

♱ recently you’d been covering the lieutenant when in and on the field. he didn’t usually have to have someone cover his ass, and honestly, he definitely did not trust anyone enough. however, after your first mission, ghost found himself on the other end of three enemy weapons.

♱ Price, who was sick of past endeavors involving this same situation, demanded you be the cover for ghost from here on and indefinitely. now the ghost was not happy, even shoving you a bit out of the way on his way out of the captain's off that night. But after some mandatory ‘bonding time’, as Price liked to put it, the ghost realized you weren’t so bad.

♱ you weren’t annoying and you stopped pushing about a topic, most of all you knew music. In fact, you had a great taste for music, and he was surprised when you whipped out your phone/iPod/mp3 etc… and showed him the complete expanse of your collection. you were truly a person who listened to all genres of music.

♱ which brought you guys to now. Gaz had brought out his speaker, and you had taken it upon yourself to handle aux. you played a little bit of everything, and the ghost found himself in a great mood, laughing and joking around with the guys, bullshitting about topics and previous missions.

♱ it wasn’t long before soap came out with brandy, and even price brought out one of his cheaper whiskeys to get the celebration started. as everyone got a nice buzz, soap looked around with a smirk and said,

♱ “Wanna play a drinking game?”

♱ everyone said yes, even ghost nodded, feeling good about tonight and wanting to see where it would go. Soap and gaz came out with three rounds of games, ending with a final round and of course a winner (who gets bragging rights for the week).

♱ The first game was simple, Quarters! you managed to fish an american quarter out of your wallet and threw it down on the table watching it bounce into the cup. you poured a shot and moved in across from you.

♱ “Ghost, drink.” he shook his head, with the slightest smirk, before knocking back the shot like a cold glass of water - and it was just as soothing, as he rested his eyes on you. He appreciates the view that only seemed to get better every time he looked back.

♱ The round went on until each person had gotten at 2-3 shots before moving on to the next game,

♱ “Fuzzy Duck!” soap yelled, scooting his chair more into the circle in which the group was already in. Gaz went next, “Fuzzy Duck!” Ghost, “Fuzzy duck.” Price, “Ducky Fuzz!” Price smirked when the ghost gave him a look, “Ducky fuzz.” he grunted out again, but you were not complaining - you liked how husky his voice would get when he had been drinking.

♱ this went on for a bit, you were the first to mess up and take the first shot. From there on, Gaz got increasingly inebriated, and when he screwed up the trance for the fifth time in a row, you guys decided to move on to the next round, and Gaz was out

♱ When Gaz was voted out, John decided to back out, claiming someone needed to be sober, and he would make sure we all got to our beds that night.

♱ That left you, ghost and soap, leaving you all to the final round of your drinking escapade, continuous shot till the liquor’s gone - or no one else stands.

♱ Now obviously this was a little dangerous, but there wasn’t much liquor left, and soap was already a bit woozy, words slurring a bit and a lazy smile glossed over eyes. Meanwhile, you and Ghost were still holding your own, just relaxed and a bit louder.

♱ As the round began, you chatted between half-shots, yelling dirty jokes and stories, and when soap laughed so hard, leaning further and further back until he fell out of his chair, you all decided he was literally out.

♱ then there were two. You and Ghost eyed each other up and down, before clinking together your shots and downing them.

♱ by this point, you both were getting close to that edge of your restraint to the liquor. Your cheeks were hot, and when you lent back to take a shot, your head felt like heavy waves were crashing around inside, leaving you wobbly and uneasy.

♱ You took a few deep breaths, the feeling calming, and you seemed to grab a hold of your senses again. As you waited for Ghost to take his shot, he looked at it in disdain, before quickly shooting it back.

♱ When Ghost came back down, he gripped the table, hunching over a little bit. He looked off at what was left of the bottle, at least 4 shots left. Maybe if he forgot halves and did the whole thing, but he didn’t even want to think about it

♱ He looked back up at you, you were a little woozy, but other than that, he couldn't read how drunk you were and if you were even thinking about tapping out. ‘I’m getting too old for this shit,' he thought to himself; so, he took a deep breath and sat back up, shaking his head

♱ “No way!” Soap chimed in, recognizing the silent surrender. “Y/n out drunk L.T?!”

♱ You looked at your lieutenant in shock, thinking maybe he is fucking with you, that he was letting you win

♱ “Don’t take it easy on me.” You said firmer than you thought your drunken tongue could. Ghost liked when you spoke like that. He's used to the pussy footing and joking back. He liked someone who could be firm with what they want

♱ “‘m not kidding little bird, I think ‘m gonna need to ask the Captain to help me.” He chuckled, a deep hearty sexy chuckle that made your spine shiver. Never hearing ghost chuckled like that before. Of course, you’ve only known him for a short time, but still.

♱ “Good game, Lieutenant.”

♱ “Good game,” he smiled, a smile before pulling his mask back down and grabbing hold of the Captain, who was already standing there ready to help him up.

♱ Once he was standing, he was good and wandered off to his room, dropping off soap at his. Price helped gaz and soap get to their room, and followed ghost and soap to your own room, which happened to be across from ghosts.

♱ You turned to him before he closed his door, stepping forward,

♱ “You’re not fucking with me, are you?” Your body felt heavy, and you so badly just wanted to crash into bed, but you had to know, was he lying?

♱ “Not at the moment,” was his smart reply, leaning against the door. He looked you up and down. You were small for having such a tolerance, but it wasn’t completely unexpected. You were a soldier, a great one at that.

♱ “I’m not fucking with you, sergeant, now get some rest. We’re both going to hate this shit tomorrow. Remember 7am training.” Ghost laughed as he closed the door on your groaning.

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neverinadream · 2 years

Text

The Big O

Summary: Never having an orgasm becomes a bit of a problem for you when you're tasked with writing a 'best orgasm' piece for the magazine you write for. It doesn't matter how many times you've had sex or even pleasured yourself, 'the big o' has just never happened. Are you just too uptight or have just never been with the right person?

Pairing: Rúben Dias x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, neighbour!rúben, dirty talk, pet names (princesa, baby girl, good girl...), praise kink, fingering, oral (reader receiving), not proof read

Notes: this was inspired by an episode of the bold type and this is an early birthday present to my name twin @enchantedaniel <3 as always, feedback is always welcome

"You're writing a piece on orgasms?" You feel your soul somersault out of your body as Rúben's voice breaks the silence of your apartment. Your eyes roll as you hear his infectious laugh, wishing it was enough to rid your body of its stress. "And I thought you said you didn't write for a sex magazine," he says, dumping the contents of his pockets, his wallet, two sets of keys, his phone and a packet of mints, onto your island counter. He had a habit of making himself at home, something you had noticed in the early stages of your tenure as neighbours.

"That's because I don't write for a sex magazine," you reply, giving him a quick glance. Watching him take a short trip over to your fridge, you shake your head amusingly. "You have a habit of making yourself at home," you tell him, watching him take the top off your carton of orange juice, "did you know that?"

Rúben shrugs his shoulders, wiping his mouth after taking a quick swig of juice. He knocks the fridge door close with his hip, carrying the carton over to the island counter. "A couple of weeks ago, you wrote about the top five toys that could help a couple spice up their sex lives," he argues his case, taking the only available seat next to you, "and now you're writing a piece on orgasms, pretty sure that means you write for a sex magazine."

You poke your finger into his side as you watch him go to take another drink from the carton. "If you're going to drink my orange juice, at least drink it from a glass." He ignores you, taking a sip and gently pushing the carton away from him as he places it down. "And it isn't a sex magazine," you insisted, shaking your head, "I actually wrote a great piece for the online magazine about that politician, Wendy McCartney, and how she purposely chooses to wear hideous outfits to deflect the conversation away from her horrendous voting record." You close your laptop, twisting on the stool to face him. "It's probably the best piece i've ever written," you humbly brag, "you should think about reading it."

"Even better than that one you wrote where you discussed the male gaze in the porn industry?"

"Even better," you nod, not at all surprised that he had read your articles that discussed the topic of sex. You slap his hand as he reaches for the carton of orange juice, ignoring him when he mumbles something about it hurting under his breath. "Use a bloody glass," you chastise him, suddenly feeling like a mother than a neighbour to him, "I don't know where that mouth has been."

"I'm clean, thank you very much," he grumbles, standing to his feet and searching your cupboards for a clean glass. Setting the medium-sized glass on the counter, he poured the orange juice in until about half an inch of room was left at the top. "You don't seem too happy about writing this new article," he calls over his shoulder, returning the carton to your fridge, "you're normally jumping off the walls when you're given a new assignment."

Rolling your eyes, you let him off for his little bit of teasing. "I wanted to write a follow-up piece to the shakedown I did on McCartney, but my boss gave up my spot in this month's edition for another writer, who wants to do a whole thing on the statistics surrounding women who watch porn," you explain, giving him a quick synopsis of your current situation, "so I was given the task of writing a 'best orgasm' piece for the online."

He frowns. "What's that then?" Rúben didn't know much about journalism and you were happy to always answer any questions that he had; just like he was always happy to answer any questions that you had when it came to his profession. "Do you just write about your best orgasm or....what?"

"Sort of," you mumble, which was what you were having a problem with. If you had been told to write a piece detailing all the statistics surrounding the number of women who had faked their orgasms, then you wouldn't be having a crisis right now, but to write about your best orgasm when you've never experienced one was a little trickier to do. "But it's kinda hard to do when you've never had an orgasm before," you whisper under your breath, leaving your neighbour to choke on a mouthful of juice.

"I'm sorry?" He wipes his mouth clean, getting up again to grab a cloth to clean up the splatter of orange juice that now coated your countertop. "You've never-"

"-yes, go ahead," you mumble, interrupting him, "laugh at the woman who has never had an orgasm before!"

Throwing the cloth into the sink, he slides back onto his stool, shaking his head as he does. Your omission had surprised him but he wasn't going to laugh at you. "Have you never...? Are you-"

"-I'm not a virgin, Rúben," you answer before his face could turn the same shade as a tomato. You pinch the bridge of your nose, a soft sigh escaping as you close your eyes. "I am just one of many women who fake their orgasms," you confess to him, feeling comfortable enough to do so, "which is a higher percentage than people might think."

He raises his eyebrows, suddenly intrigued with what you had to say. "How high is it?"

"Oh, don't worry," you innocently tap his thigh as you find your feet, "I won't bruise your ego."

His eyes follow you, still feeling where your hand had touched his thigh. His skin tingled every time you touched or accidentally brushed against him. It was becoming harder to ignore each time it happened. "I promise you, you won't bruise my ego," he clears his throat, following you over to your living area. Climbing over the back of your couch and dropping down next to you, it dawned on him just how much he made himself at home as he fluffed up the pillows behind him, creating a groove for him to sink into. "I think you might be right," he mumbles, running his fingers through his hair, "I think I do make myself at home."

"Some studies say that about seventy per cent of women will fake their orgasms," you answer his original question, searching under a cushion for your remote. Rúben finds it first, showing you a toothy grin because it means he now got control of the TV remote. "Some studies suggest it is higher and some suggest its lower," you add to your answer, "but either way, women fake their orgasms more than people think they do, which I don't really see as being a problem; if I know my partner isn't going to make me cum, I'd rather fake one and end the whole ordeal then drag it out."

"So, you've just never had an orgasm?"

"Did we just not establish that?"

"Like ever?" He continues to probe. "Like. not even on your own?"

"No, Rúben," you roll your head to the side, finding him to already be looking at you, "not even on my own."

"Well, I don't have that problem," he states with a couple of pounds of confidence, tapping the end of the TV remote against your arm, "all the ladies cum when they're with me."

"Wow," you pull a face at him, laughing as he rolls his eyes at you, "you said that with so much confidence. No, I bet none of them - Rúben!" You squeal out loud as he bashes you playfully in the face with one of your own cushions, an attack unprovoked and so sudden that you had no time to defend yourself.

"They do be screaming my name," you groan at his response, taking a cushion of your own and swinging it at his chest, "just not that loud."

"You're disgusting," you mumble, tucking the cushion back behind your body, "thank god the walls are nice and thick so I don't have to listen to all this supposed screaming." You mark out air quotes with your fingers.

"Ah, don't worry, babe," Rúben quickly replies, showing you another wide grin, "you'll have your turn with me one day." Shaking your head, you only intensify his smile. He repositions himself on the couch, getting more comfortable as he begins to flick through Netflix. "Maybe you've just never been with the right person," he speaks after a few seconds of silence. You give him a look that says, why are we still talking about this? "Because it fascinates me, okay," he replies, with a short burst of awkward laughter.

"Okay, fascinate me," you lift your legs onto the couch, crossing them underneath you as you turn to face him, "if I can't make myself cum and none of my ex partners could make me cum, who will? You? Will the famous Rúben Dias, who clearly prides himself on his ability to sexually satisfy his partners, finally be the one to make this stuck up journalist cum?"

"I think you just found your headline," Rúben replies, dropping the TV remote into his lap.

"Yeah, well, that's never going to happen," you mumble, shaking your head, "because we're not fulfilling the old cliché of neighbours who end up fucking each other." Turning back to sit properly, you let your legs hang off the edge of your couch, your toes brushing against the soft rug laid over the wooden floor. "I've watched enough sitcoms to know that's a terrible idea."

"Would it?"

"Would what?"

"Would it be such a terrible idea if we-"

"-Rúben, I was joking," you quickly interupt him, swiping the TV remote from off his lap, fingers innocently brushing across his thigh as you do so. His eyes remain on you as you begun to flick through Netflix - if he wasn't going to pick something to watch, then you would pick for you. "Horror or comedy?" You think out loud, debating between the two genres. Horror was your favourite but you needed something to lighten the mood after that conversation. "Rúben?"

As you turn your head, you met with his hand on the back of your neck, his body leaning across and his mouth pressing against yours. Startled, you pull back, your hand still clutching the remote as you push it into his chest. "Rúben, what are you-" There was a slight tremble in your voice, your face heating up as your breath catches in your throat. "This is a bad idea," you whisper, flicking your attention between his lips and his eyes, that looked hungrily at yours. A bad idea that left you wanting to feel his lips on yours again. Leaning forwards, you just manage to stop yourself before you can kiss him again. "We're neighbours," your breath fans his lips, "I shouldn't want this."

"Well, some people ask their neighbours to borrow them a cup of sugar," his voice is low as he takes the remote out of your hand, tossing it carelessly behind him, "and this neighbour is going to help you write your article." Biting your bottom lip, the corners of your lips curl into a grin, hiding, or trying your best, to hide a whimper that bubbled in your throat. "You drive me crazy when you do that, princesa," he admits, using his thumb to pry you bottom lip from between your teeth. And everything about him secretly drove you crazy. His thumb caresses your bottom lip, teasing you both. "Will you let me help you?"

Nodding your head, you decide to deal with the consequences of your actions later. "Yes," you breathe out, taking a fist full of his t-shirt and pulling him into you as you kiss him again. It was hard to figure out if his lips were a drug or oxygen, but it felt like you might just die if you never got to experience them again. You had a taste of perfection that you didn't want to quit.

Straddling him, you whimper as his strong hands squeeze your hips, dragging you up his lap until your chest was pressed up against his. "I've wondered what it would have been like to kiss you from the minute I met you," Ruben murmurs against your lips, "I should've done it there and then, save us all these months of dropping subtle hints."

"Subtle? You? You being subtle is like me doing two backhand springs, followed by-" You moan out loud, cutting yourself off as one of his hands slips around the back, squeezing your bum.

"You were saying something?" He asks, cocking one eyebrow as he grins wickedly at you.

"That wasn't fair," you bite back, nipping at his jaw as you dip to kiss his neck.

"And neither are these little shorts," he groans. He pulls at the waistband of the grey, cotton shorts you had changed into after coming home from work. "I want them off," he orders, tired of wasting precious seconds he could be using to concentrate only on you.

You pull at the hem of his shirt. "And I want this off." Leaning away from the back of the couch, he pulls on the back of his shirt, removing the black t-shirt and throwing it over your shoulder. Instantly, your hands touch his chest, letting your fingertips trace every inch of his body. "You're crazy hot," you blurt out, dipping your head to kiss along his collarbones.

He hooks his fingers under your chin, stopping you before you could connect your lips to his body. "And you're wickedly beautiful, baby girl," he silences any future response with a sharp kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and gliding across yours, as he explores a part of your body yet untouched by his. "Lie down for me," he instructs, humming in appreciation as you do as you're told. His lips touch yours again, his body hovering over yours, with his hands setting on your waist. "Can I take them off?" He asks, pulling at the little bow you had tied with the thin drawstring.

"Please," your answer is rushed and you weren't even sure if you had said a word or if you had just made a noise of encouragement. Lifting your hips, he pulls at the sides of your shorts, leaving your underwear behind. You try not to clamp your thighs together or moan out loud as you see the hunger double in his eyes, the subtle movement of his tongue against his bottom lip, as he gazes down at the deep purple lace. "Pretty, aren't they?" You wiggle your hips, giggling when his answer comes out in the form of a groan.

Snapping out of his trance, he guides his fingers over your underwear, feeling the texture of the lace. "I haven't even touched you," he chuckles, feeling the small damp patch as he cups you through the lace. Your hips buck into his hand, your bottom lip catching between your teeth to hide a moan. To you, it was crazy how your body reacted so quickly to him; he left your body feeling ablaze and you didn't want that feeling to end. "Tell me what you want," he orders, pressing his fingers into your clothed covered clit.

"You," you whimper, releasing your bottom lip. Pushing up to rest on your elbows, your lips brush against the roughness of his beard, before finally finding his mouth again. "I want you to touch me," you sigh into his mouth, feeling him slip his hand past the waistband, "I want you to be the first person to make me cum."

"I can do that."

His fingers run against your folds, a deep groan falling from his lips and against yours when he feels the pool gathering between your thighs. Covering his fingertips, he drags them back up your folds to find your clit, rubbing soft circles against the sensitive nub. He watches your chest rise and fall as you take deep breaths, letting the pleasure seep through your body. "Does that feel good?" He asks you, shaking his head when you nodded yours. "Tell me, princesa," he encourages, "be a good girl and tell me how good it feels."

"So good," you moan out loud, feeling yourself already clenching tightly around his finger as he slides in a single finger. Rolling your hips, you fuck yourself onto his finger, desperate for a little bit more pace. "So fucking good," you repeat, taking one hand to cup his face as you crash your lips against his.

"Good enough to make you cum?" He asks, pulling away from you. Chuckling at your protest, he brings his lips back to you, only to have you chasing after him for another kiss. He pecks your lips, before pulling away once more to kiss along your jaw. "Am I good enough to make you cum?" He asks again, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I must be with the way you're practically fucking yourself onto my finger; dirty, dirty girl, you are."

"More," you whimper, begging for something more.

"You want another finger, baby?" You nod your head, lips falling apart as he stretches you out with a second finger. "You know," he looks you in the eyes, something wicked brewing in his own, "I think I could have you cumming for me in the next few minutes."

"I don't think you can," you bite back, challenging him, "I don't think you're special enough to make me cum. I think you are just like everybody else. Mediocre."

"I'm about to make you eat those words, baby."

Retrieving his hand, he cleans his fingers off, one by one, groaning as he gets a taste of you. He hooks his fingers around the sides of your underwear, nearly tearing the lace as he pulls them off. Any other day, he'd pamper you a bit, kiss up the insides of both of your thighs and tease you some more, but he had a bet to win and he didn't like to lose. His tongue drags against your folds, groaning against you as he gets a better taste of you. You clutch the edge of the couch, moaning out loud when he slipped both fingers back in, your walls clenching them tightly.

"I don't even think I need a few minutes," he mumbles against you, his cock twitching and straining against the inner of his jeans as you clench around him again.

"Just shut up and eat," you order, feeling the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. This feeling wasn't new to you, you had felt it many times both with a partner and on your own, it was just the blissful, toe-curling sensation that came afterwards you had yet to experience. "Just like that," you encourage, clinging onto his hair and tugging as his lips enclose your clit, "just keep doing that." Your moans groan louder, echoing inside the quiet apartment, as his fingers and mouth double the sensation, working together to get you past that mental block that had been preventing you in the past. "Shit," you breathe out, blurting out profanities, as your back arches away from the couch cushions, "shit...fuck...shit..."

"You close-"

"Shhh," you hush him, pushing his mouth back against you, fearing it would all be for nothing the second he took it away. A wall in your mind crumbles away the second his tongue reconnects with your clit, your toes curling and hips lifting away from the cushions. He pushes you back down onto the couch, grinning against you as you clenched even tighter around his fingers. "Fuck, I'm cumming," it all catches you by surprise, a strangled laugh bubbling in the back of your throat as the euphoric feeling washes through you, "I'm actually cumming."

Taking his mouth away, he kisses over each of your hips; his fingers remain where they are, decreasing their speed as he works you down from your high. His lips attach themselves to your neck, to your jaw and then finally to your lips. "I told you I had no problem making the ladies cum," he boasts, making you roll your eyes. "Was that good enough for you to write about?"

"Maybe," you drag your fingers lightly down his chest, "but I guess you'll just have to wait to read the article."

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