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#IT'S FUCKING NOT SO SHUT UP WORK ON YOURSELF GET BETTER FRIENDS AND BETTER VIEWS
letorip · 2 days
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casual
"i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose, you said, "we're not together," so now when we kiss i have anger issues"
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pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader
summary: you and nat have been hooking up, but it seems the label of "no attachment" just seems to hurt you both.
warnings: explicit sexual content, mentions of sex, friends with benefits with feelings, you're a little bit of a dick
word count: 4.6k
A/N: it's come to my attention a LOT of people have used the chappell roan song casual for nat and i want to say i legitimately discovered this after i started writing. i tried to make it different from the others but there's definitely similarities just because they're based on the same song, but i want it known this was not an attempt to copy other people and i think so many of the other authors are insanely talented and i love reading their works.
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“Nat I swear to god I’m going to kick you out of this bed if you don’t stop moving,” you groaned, smushing your face further into the pillow. The thin cloth casing smelled like her floral shampoo and cigarette smoke, and you pressed it with your nose to make it last longer, squeezing your eyes shut and drawing a slow, heady lungful.
Natalie scoffed at you, pinching your bare side gently with her soft fingers, and you squirmed with a laugh. “This is my bed and you’re hogging the sheets, jerk. I’m trying to get comfortable.” If you had more of a conscience about the whole thing, you would have felt worse about leaving her out in the cold air of the room in what little she was wearing, but you were having all too much fun.
“Mm,” you hummed in response, bunching her comforter up in your hands and tugging even more towards you with a mischievous smile, to the point where the entire thing was wrapped around you and absolutely none was left on Natalie, who you could hear shift on the mattress behind you.
“You have got to be fucking with me,” she said in disbelief, and you grinned. “Give it here,” she demanded, reaching for your burrito of sheets and you jerked yourself away with a laugh, rolling over to see her staring at you with narrowed eyes. “Come on, give me my comforter,” she said again, trying and failing to seem assertive. Nat never scared you like she scared other people.
You raised your eyebrows at her in amusement and stuck your tongue out, rolling back away from her. “Are you serious??” she asked, reaching for you, but you moved from her grip again. “Come here, you idiot,” she laughed, wrapping a hand around your clump of her bedsheets and climbing on top of you, straddling your waist with her legs so you couldn't escape.
You squirmed underneath her, trying and failing to break free. She was a soccer player like you- though you didn’t play for the school- with strong legs so you could barely nudge her. "Are you done?" She asked with a beaming grin, hands next to your head on the bed to box you in. Her soft blonde hair fell around the both of you and you would have stopped for a moment to admire the view if an idea didn't suddenly pop into your mind.
"Hmm, let me think," you said, and Nat's smile immediately wiped away. "No," you said, and in an instant you shifted your weight, rolling her right off of you and onto the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
"Hey!" She called up from the floor, but you were too busy laughing. You sat up, tossing the sheets off to look at her down there in your triumph. "Jerk," she said, but not unaffectionately.
"Looks like you fell there," you replied, propping your head up on your hand and grinning from ear to ear.
"Aren't you funny."
"I like to think so."
She went silent for a moment, humming at your response and then just staring for a while, looking you over with an unreadable expression. You swallowed, letting her stare with a growing lump in your throat as you watched her eyes trace up your legs slowly from where they hung off the side of her mattress, landing on your waist and then trailing up again, to your chest for a while, and then finally up to your face.
The air in the room had been sucked out by a vacuum, and the two of you were left in a rising warmth and muggy heat. She stood up then, locking your eyes on hers and slowly walking towards you until she stood right over you, close enough to where you could feel her warm breath fanning down over your face.
Her own pale cheeks were flushed pink, and when her hands came up to rest on your shoulders your own went up to her waist, sliding your thumbs up further until they brushed against her ribcage. She shivered and tensed under your grip and you felt it.
Nat leaned down to you in a gentle way one would never assume would be her style, softly pressing her lips to yours. You sat like that for a moment, smiling gently into it as she clambered up to straddle your waist again, never once breaking contact. Her lips grew more hungry, moving against yours with a rising intensity and desire for more, softly breathing into your mouth and pushing on the bare skin of your shoulders.
Your hands moved down to wrap around the back of her thighs, holding her tight against you as she broke the kiss and moved down towards your neck. "Nat," you laughed in between attacks from her lips and small bites here and there. "We literally just did this. Like, not even thirty minutes ago."
"And?" she asked, going back to her business and moving her mouth to the space where your neck and shoulder met. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop yourself from groaning and instead to form words. "Your hands are so rough," she whispered in your ear, before retreating down again.
Your hands slid up from the back of her thighs. "Sorry. It's the tennis and the water polo," you rushed, a tad apologetic. But Natalie shook her head, pulling back and leaning her forehead against yours to catch her breath.
"Fuckin' rich people," she said, smiling. You nodded, reconnecting your lips together before you trailed your mouth down her neck and to her collarbone, leaving small kisses as you went. One of her hands came up, fingers grabbing and threading at your hair to hold you there. "Wait, you have a butler don't you?" she asked, but the last part was cut off with a breath as you sucked right over her pulse.
You rolled your eyes in amusement at the question, pulling away and raising your eyebrows at her. "You really want to talk about that right now?" Nat had always harboured a fascination with your lifestyle you failed to understand, but you indulged her when she asked.
"I'm just saying," she laughed. "What's his name? Jeeves?"
"Nope," you shook your head in amusement, already knowing how she'd react. "Reginald."
"Now that's hot," Nat joked, smacking you on the shoulder playfully before she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you tighter to her.
"Yeah yeah, get it out of your system, idiot," You shook your head, looking up at her where she sat over you. Light warmed over her blonde hair from the window behind you both.
"Mhm," she hummed, kissing you one last time before she pulled away. "You should probably go soon," she said, looking over at her alarm clock with a frown.
"But I like this position," you teased with a smile, hands back on her waist and slowly tracing patterns on the skin there. Her skin was soft and you dragged the pads of your fingers up and down, tapping gently and doodling random shapes.
"Yeah well, my dad will be home soon. I don't think he'd like seeing us in this position," Nat said back, clambering off of you with a smirk. You felt the weight off your lap the moment she was gone and had to stop yourself from grabbing her hand and tugging her back towards you. Damn her father. From what you had heard of him from Nat, he wasn’t too nice anyways.
But you stopped yourself, watching Natalie go, walking to the other corner of her room to where you had thrown her jeans earlier. She turned to you as she tugged them on. "You're going to practice tomorrow, right?"
You nodded. "Couldn't escape soccer if I tried."
Nat nodded, grabbing a nearby shirt and throwing it over herself. “Want to meet up after? Continue what we started?” She asked with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head with a smile. “I can’t. My father is back from his business trip. We’re having my cousins over for dinner- it’s a whole big thing. Reginald is making a roast.”
“Okay,” Nat said, leaning back for a moment to think. "What about Lottie's party on Friday? You going to that too?"
"Couldn't escape Lottie if I tried," you said, throwing your head back against her bed and splaying out. Lottie Matthews held a special place in your heart as not only your neighbour but one of your best friends, and that meant being dragged to whatever social gathering she so desired to attend or host.
"Ooookay, so...would you want to maybe…go to Lottie's together?" That caught your attention and you froze, looking up to see Nat uncomfortably glancing around her room, arms crossed and mindlessly tugging on the ends of her sleeves.
"Uh...," you stuttered, propping yourself up on your arms and frowning. "I kind of already told Jackie I would go with her and Jeff. I thought you would be going with Kevyn and that one kid...so."
Nat nodded, looking down at the floor and frowning. "Yeah, it's... it's fine.”
“Okay…” you trailed off, watching her fidget. “Are you…?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Jesus Christ. It’s one party.”
“Okay,” you nodded. Nat was very clearly not fine, but you knew better than to push her buttons. She tended to explode upon confrontation, especially when she didn’t want to talk about it. You stood up, stretching your arms out and you could feel her watching you again, soft blue eyes looking over you.
“Listen,” she said, in a tone that was disarmingly sweet for Natalie Scatorccio. This was far from the tough girl who shoved you against lockers after practice or who argued with you about everything and anything she could. Her cheeks were flushed and she fidgeted with her fingers.
“When I said… earlier, when I said you had really rough hands. I like your hands. It wasn’t- I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Um…okay,” you replied, nodding gently at her. You had no clue why she was being so timid all of a sudden and it was a bit puzzling. You turned back from her to grab your shirt from the floor next to her bed, tugging it over your head and turning back. "Have you seen my shorts?" you asked, running a hand through your mussed up hair and attempting to tame it.
"Yeah," said Nat, still weirdly quiet. She held them up in her hand, outstretched towards you, and you walked over, grabbing them from her and tugging them on.
"Thanks," you smiled, pulling the drawstrings tight and going to get your socks. The entire time she just watched you, not saying much but clearly thinking a whole lot. "Are you sure you're okay?" you laughed. "Stop being weird, Nat. Just say it."
"Okay...Look, I know you said-" but she was cut off. From outside her bedroom down the hall, you heard the front door open and slam shut. Natalie's face went white in panic and she stood right up, running to the window and throwing it open without even a second to waste.
"NATALIE, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!" the old, gruff voice called from her kitchen, and you knew this was a code red situation.
"Go! Go! Go!" She whispered at you, pushing you towards her window. "Get the fuck out before he finds you!"
"Wait, my shoes-" you said, hopping through the window and landing on the hot pavement in your socks. She laughed, turning back around and grabbing your sneakers off the floor, throwing them out the window and smacking you in the head, bouncing off you. "Ow!"
"Sorry!" She whispered, sticking her head out the window. "See you tomorrow?" Her eyes softened for a moment, looking hopeful.
"Yeah," you nodded, grabbing your shoes off the ground.
"NATALIE! NOW GODDAMMIT!" Her dad called again, and she spun around, heading for the door and leaving you outside her window. You didn't even bother putting your shoes on as you ran off in your socks, to where you had parked your car several streets down.
===+++===
It was always Wednesdays in the cafeteria when the food looked most disgusting. You didn't eat it, but Shauna did, sitting right in front of you with a plate of what was allegedly turkey and gravy, and you always wanted to poke it a bit with a straw and see if it would get up and crawl away.
"Stop staring at my food," she laughed, and you shook your head, gagging a bit with overdramatic performance.
"It looks like a science experiment.”
"Yeah, well not everyone can have their food packed for them, now can they? Not my fault I don't have a maid like Lottie or a butler, like you," Shauna said, gesturing at you with her fork.
“Sorry,” you winced.
"You can have some of my sandwich, if you want," Lottie said, turning to Shauna and pulling it from her bag. "The housekeeper makes too much for me anyways."
Shauna shook her head. "I'm really fine, thanks Lottie. It's not as bad as it looks. Tastes almost good, in a weird way.”
“Maybe you’re just weird,” you shrugged with faux integrity, and Shauna stuck her tongue out at you.
“Are you guys going out for track in the spring?” Jackie asked, arms crossed out in front of her.
“I am, yeah,” said Lottie. “My parents think the more sports I do, the more colleges I get into.”
“Mine too,” you nodded. “I’m doing track but only if it doesn’t interfere with spring tennis.”
"What are you going out for?" Jackie asked. "I'm debating if I should even go out."
"Yeah, you should go out," Lottie said. "Track is always fun. (Y/n) and I both do relay and high jump, but you could probably handle the hurdles or short sprints."
"You think?" Jackie asked, staring off in contemplation.
You nodded again. "You'd do just fine. It's no big deal if you already know how to run, and me and-"
"-Oh. My. God." All three of you looked over at Jackie, who had straightened up completely. She was staring off behind you, into the distance with her mouth a bit agape. You hadn't even noticed she had stopped listening to the conversation.
"What?" You asked, puzzled by her expression. "Something on me?"
Jackie nodded, smirking. "A certain someone's eyes are."
You rolled your eyes. "Do I even want to know?"
"Oh come on," Jackie said. "You already know. Nat. She keeps looking over here from her burnout table."
You frowned, turning around and following her eyes. Natalie sat on the opposite side of the cafeteria, at one of the round green tables in the corner near the vending machines. She was indeed looking at you, headphones over her ears and cassette player on the table. When she saw you look back at her, she looked away quickly, turning to Kevyn.
"She's, like, stalking you at this point."
You scoffed, looking back to your table. "She's not stalking me, drama queen. She's probably just looking around."
Lottie turned back to the table, shrugging. "I mean, she does keep looking over here."
"Oh, not you too," you groaned, facepalming.
Lottie held up her hands defensively. "I'm just saying what I'm seeing." Shauna sent you a sympathetic look from across the table, retreating to eat more of her turkey. When someone gave Jackie crumbs like this she was like a dog with a bone. True investigative journalism at its finest.
"You said you two are hooking up right?" She asked, leaning forwards and almost whispering the last part. You frowned, not entirely sure why she was acting like it was a secret.
"Yeah, we hook up. We're not together though," you answered her.
"But she wants to be," Jackie said, flat out like it was a statement and an obvious one at that. She looked back over your shoulder where you assumed Natalie was still watching you. You shrugged.
"Maybe? I don't know. She hasn't said anything to me, so."
"She follows you around like a lovesick puppy, it's genuinely so weird. I've never seen Nat in love before-"
"Woah, slow down. She's not in love with me."
"Come on!" Jackie said, laughing. "You can NOT be that oblivious. Nat practically drools over you all the time whenever you're doing tennis at the courts next door!"
"So? We fuck around. Becoming a thing hasn't been talked about by either of us."
"Tell her that, then," Jackie giggled. "That nutcase is stalking you, I'm serious."
"Stop calling her a nutcase," you glared at her.
"It's just funny," Jackie shrugged. "So the cool, stoner burnout girl fell for the valedictorian, jock, key club president whose parents own a third home in Long Beach."
"Drop it, Jackie," Lottie said from next to you, shaking her head in irritation. God bless Lottie. But Jackie smirked at you again.
"It's just funny. Romeo and Juliet. It's cute, really," she laughed.
"Shut up," you said.
From overhead, the school bell rang, and you stood to gather your things for the final period of the day, bumping into Lottie as she did the same. Jackie spun to you.
“I’m gonna go find Jeff! See you guys at practice.”
“Bye,” Shauna nodded, giving her a warm smile.
The three of you grabbed your stuff and headed for the chemistry lab, turning down the hallway and up the stairs.
“Sorry about her, you know how she gets about Nat,” Shauna said to you, turning as you walked.
You shrugged. “It’s fine. She just needs to take it out on me next time, and not Nat. Nat didn’t do anything wrong.”
“She knows, yeah,” Shauna said, shuffling the books around in her arms so they were easier to hold onto. “You said your dad is back in town, right?”
“Yup. He was in Tokyo for some business or whatever. I don’t know, it’s boring stuff, a merger or something.”
Lottie shuddered. “I still remember when he yelled at us for pieing that old groundskeeper. He's like, scary."
You laughed. "He's not scary. He's just a business dude. No nonsense. And you and I know we were nonsense kids."
"Would he care if I went to the dinner? My parents are having date night and Taissa and Van are busy," Lottie said.
"I mean, I don't think he would care. My mother insisted on making a whole thing out of it. Pretty sure she invited the new neighbours, the Roosevelts."
"Wait, as in-" Lottie stopped, beginning to grin.
"It's not funny," you said, rolling your eyes.
"What? What's wrong with that?" asked Shauna.
"It's nothing, Lottie is being stupid."
"Hey!"
"My mother keeps trying to set me up with their daughter, since she's on the golf team and likes science," you explained to Shauna. "She keeps trying to find me a match in our neighbourhood. Literally almost killed her when I said me and Lottie were just friends."
"Have you told them about Nat?" Shauna said. The three of you turned the corner, walking up to the water fountain you would hang out in front of right before class started. Shauna leaned back against the lockers nearby, and Lottie went for a drink.
"Uh, first of all, they would probably kill me, and second of all, we're not together officially or anything," you shrugged. "We mess around a bit, but we both say it's casual and give each other space. Nat's tough, she knows."
Speak of the devil. From where you stood leaning against a pillar, Nat walked by with some kid you didn't know, shooting a small smile in your direction. You just watched her go, giving her an awkward grimace and looking back to your friends.
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"Eyes open, Lottie!" Coach Ben yelled from across the field near the bench. You could see Misty and Trevor, the manager for the boys' team, in the distance next to him, watching the scrimmage.
"Here!" She yelled. Lottie spun on her foot, sweeping the ball right from between Daniel DuPont's legs and up to Luke Miller, who was being covered down by a kid you didn't know. He looked around desperately, eyeing anyone she could pass to, finally locking eyes with you and booting it in your direction.
You caught it with your chest, letting it fall and then moving forward until Nat could catch up, Jeremy from your English class hot on her heels. You passed it out to her on the wing, letting her take it up the pitch.
She dribbled it, keeping it away from Carter Avery. He was a real prick, with a nasty sneer while he played, and he kept yelling at her, chasing her down the pitch while she ran. You moved up along with Jackie, ready for Nat to cross it to you, but she couldn't make it.
You watched Natalie push forward, but Laura Lee was nowhere to be found, covered completely by Shauna, who was an amazing defender and kept her completely boxed out. Taissa was on you and Jackie, and any pass in Jackie's direction would've immediately let Taissa run away with it.
Instead, Nat turned to Carter, trying to bounce it off his shoe and out, but it ricocheted, knocking off her own cleats and out. "Out on Natalie!" Coach Martinez yelled. "Natalie, if you're going to pull those tricks it has to work, come on!" He said, throwing up his hands.
She nodded, but Carter looked pissed, stalking over to her. "Play some good soccer, why don't you?" He sneered, coming right up to Nat's face. "Pull that bullshit again and I'll show you what happens."
You rolled your eyes, walking over. "Shut the hell up, Carter. It's your throw in anyways."
Carter Avery leered at you, trying to seem tall. "Got something to say to me, (L/n)?"
You put your hands on your hips, glaring right back at him. "Yeah, maybe I do, Avery. There's a reason the girls are going to nationals and the boys aren't. If you played just as well as you talked shit, maybe it'd be a winning team."
"Fuck off," he said. "I don't need your shit, country club."
"You're gonna get it anyways," you glared at him. "Just as long as you keep being a quivering pussy."
"Bite me," he said back.
"Can we play some soccer? Hellooo?" yelled Jackie from behind you. Carter grunted, but didn't say anything else, grabbing the ball from the ground and stalking towards the sideline. You rolled your eyes but backed up to your position, just behind Nat so you could give her support. Laura Lee came up, ready, and you looked back to Lottie to make sure she was behind you when-
-BAM!
A soccer ball collided right with your face, knocking you right off your feet. If it didn't hurt so damn much you would've been impressed by how good of a throw it was. Instead, you were left looking up at the sky, feeling blood begin to waterfall from your nose.
"Carter!" A voice yelled. "What the fuck!?"
"Oh my god!"
"Jesus Christ!"
"A very worried-looking Jackie was hovering over you, blocking your head from the sun. You saw Lottie behind her in a moment, and then everyone was crowing around in a weird halo of concern and disgust.
Nat elbowed her way through the crowd and was right by your head. "Are you okay?" She asked you, insanely worried. Her blue eyes were shining and distressed, and her blonde hair fell around you again like it did in her bedroom. You managed a weak thumbs up and a smile.
"Yup. Never better," you mumbled in pain, and she laughed, shaking her head.
"So stupid."
"How do I look?" You asked her.
"Covered in bruises, dude," she replied, with a smile. You heard some movement in the background and then you were being made to sit up. It was Misty, right behind you, carrying some nose plugs, bandaids, and a first aid kit.
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They let you sit out for the rest of the scrimmage for obvious reasons, and you sat right on the patterned blue and yellow tiles that led to the locker rooms with an ice pack against your nose and eye, head resting right up against the wall.
You didn't know what they did with Carter and you didn't particularly care. The pain in your eye and your nose seemed to radiate through your whole body, and you squeezed your eyes shut. According to Misty it was a miracle you had avoided a concussion, but it wasn't a miracle for your nose, which currently sat stuffed with blood-soaked tissues.
From down the hall near the field you heard the heavy metal door open. "Hey," she said. You didn't move, trying to stop more blood from pouring out.
"Hey Nat," you replied.
"Carter is probably getting detention. Everyone knows it was on purpose."
"Coach Martinez can do that?" you asked.
"Apparently. He gave us this whole long speech and pretty much dissed the boys team for not being good. It was funny."
You smiled at the thought, nodding a little bit. "Remind me not to cross Coach Martinez."
"Will do."
"Is practice over?" You asked, opening one eye to look at her.
"Not yet," Nat shook her head. "I volunteered to check on you."
"My hero."
She rolled her eyes at the title, smiling in that cheesy, toothy way she liked to smile. You liked it when she smiled like that.
"Well, Carter's a douche," she said after a moment.
"I know. Kept on contemplating if it was worth it to knee him in the balls."
"You should've. That guy could fuckin' reproduce one day. There could be more, miserable, little clones of himself that other kids will have to put up with." Natalie walked over, sliding down onto the floor with you.
"Tell me how bad it is, would you?"
She winced. "It's definitely a 'black' eye. Your nose is busted, too."
"Great. My mother is gonna throw a giant fit about it, then," you groaned, imagining it now.
"Why?" She asked.
You laughed. "She's supposed to be setting me up tonight. Has this neighbour girl- Julie Roosevelt- picked out and everything for that dinner I told you about. She's not bad, she's at least nice, but I don't-"
You stopped talking when you noticed Natalie had tensed up next to you. She was staring at the opposite wall, looking absolutely beside herself. "She what?"
"She's trying to set me up..." you muttered. There was suddenly the overwhelming sensation you had just said something very very wrong. Nat stood right up, turning around to go back out the doors. "Nat, what's wrong? What did I say?"
She whipped back around to you, eyes watery, her bottom lip quivering a bit, in a way you had never seen Natalie either. "And you're letting her?"
"Um...I mean, I don't really have an excuse."
"Oh, you don't, do you? God, you're such a fucking asshole!"
"What did I do??" You asked her, standing up too.
"You really don't know?"
"No, Nat, I don't."
She shook her head, tears beginning to fall. "Go to hell, (Y/n)." With that she turned around, bursting through the metal doors. You were left in the hallway all alone, watching her go with a deep frown.
"Ahem," cleared a throat from behind you.
You nodded. "I know Lottie. I know."
===+++===
so this took awhile. first non jenna ortega fanfic of mine, so it's probably a little bloated, but i wanted to get it out there because there will definitely be a part two. i like nat so much and i love the show, and there will definitely be more nat and more lottie from me and shauna (?) but next will be a tara carpenter fic
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dogin8 · 1 year
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TERF rhetoric of "BE AFRAID OF TRANS PEOPLE THEY ARE PREDATORS AND A DANGER TO YOU" is word for word the same ideology behind racism and segregation.
And both are propaganda for purposes of making the oppression of said groups palatable to the public.
Because The government wants you to believe Trans people are predators so that you will turn a blind eye at the repeated violations of Trans people's rights that they are committing.
Because 'All cops are bastards' until you scream to call the police on a trans women quietly minding her own business in the women's room.
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loaksbitch · 1 year
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originally jake sully written but made a neteyam ver. let's go let's go.
warnings - size kink, tummy bulging, spitting, breast play kinda, getting your hands held behind you, toruk makto neteyam is enough to be a freaking warning yes? riding, whiny and crying oc, neteyam whimpers like once of twice if you squint, mean neteyam turns to soft neteyam at the end
this is roughly 2k y'all, so idk what to feel about it! reblog + likes are appreciated and not pressured, i love each and every one of you!! mwah. 20ish toruk makto!neteyam
“i’ll make it fit” — neteyam sully ver. (⨳)
you’re finally satisfied with your work, twirling around with a smile. the leaves you made as a sexy cloth that barley covered your body didn’t fail you as you feel something if you churn at the thought of greeting your mate with this
neteyam would be back by the eclipse from the war party and you just can’t wait to show him off about your new creations.
the glowing leaves allover your chest and ghosting your nipples as they reflect their light on your blue striped soft skin. and there’s a web like cloth covering you down there that clearly shows the jewels between your leg.
as the night came on, you couldn’t help but feel nervous and insecurity starts to sip in you.
what if he doesn’t like it? what if he’ll laugh at you? what if— enough! you try to focus on your breath. “it’s gonna turn out good.” you comfort yourself. your ears suddenly perk when you catch a familiar footsteps getting near and near to the hammock you share with your mate and decide to hide quickly
meanwhile you’re hidden, neteyam couldn’t keep feeling instant worries when he didn’t see you at the welcoming session. were you sick? he tried to ask your friends but they just shrugged and said they didn’t see you the whole day
neteyam admits he was pretty excited to see you and waited for you to shower him with kisses to make him feel better and less stressed but no, you weren’t even there.
it was dark when he entered the hammock and frowned, the candles were blown out and everything is neatly set. “princess?” neteyam’s voice was calculated with worries. “i’m home, where are you?”
you’re nervously shuffling from one foot to another. “baby if this is one of your jokes you know i’m tir–“ neteyam’s words get stuck when you come to view. at first he was about to load his gun but the feminine and petite body of yours appears in front of him and your man’s breath hitched at the sight of you
your braids were undone and flawlessly splayed allover your shoulders, his eyes are trained down your body and neteyam curses under his breath as his cock stirs and twitches. the valley between your chest and your two swelled breast shown under the glowing leaves you’re wearing
then his eyes go down to your hip curves and small waist and finally to your thighs that he wants to be choked with. “ma ‘teyam.” your sexy voice makes his ears flatten and he closes his eyes. “fuck princess, what’re you supposed to be doing right now?”
you shyly glance behind him then at him. your eyes widen when the equipments are harshly thrown to the side on the hammock mat and neteyam is walking to you with a burning lust in his eyes
“i’ll just tak…” neteyam’s teeth clash to yours as he shuts you up with toe curling kiss. you can’t even form a word when he’s pulling you by your cheeks and neck desperate to have more of you. you turn your head to the side to take a breath but neteyam takes the chance to leave wet kisses on your neck as he bites and licks the spot, marking you in ways that makes you sigh.
“you didn’t come to welcome me baby,” he says before pressing his forehead to yours while you two take deep breathes from the kiss you’ve shared. “i was searching for you” he slightly pouts making you guilty
“sorry baby, i had to make a welcoming present for you.” he hums with a smile plastered on his face. “this is the best gift ever.” he leans to kiss you as he bends slightly and grip onto your thighs
“jump, pretty girl.” you only giggle before jumping to your mate’s hold. he starts to kiss you and you devilishly mess with his hair. you run your hands through it and grip on his locks hard making neteyam moan into your mouth.
as your body settles to the thick mat of the hammock and neteyam pushes your legs open to settle himself in between them, you start to feel a little too insecure. “i’ve dreamt of this for so long baby, you’ve no idea.” you gulp when he continues
“having you under me, on top of me, in every fucking position with this glowing like loincloth you made allover you.” he tells you softly, his lips pressed on the corner of your lips.
you try to sit up and go along with his kiss but neteyam leans back and pushes you back to the mat, making you huff out. you’re watching every move of his when he starts to trail kisses on your chest.
“nete, jus–“
you moan when his mouth engulfs your perked nipple with his warm mouth and sucks gently. “neteyam, ma ‘teyeam…” you sigh, tiny hands returning to his locks. his other hand is holding the glowing leaves that were covering your breast out of the way before starting to massage your breast well and let your nipple roll between his fingers.
it felt so good that had you arching your back, chest pressing to his face. neteyam leaves your nipple with small ‘pop’ sound and watches how his saliva reflects to glowing leaves lights on your nipple. “stay still baby.” he shifts his attention to the other nipple and starts to slowly tug it with his teeth before putting his whole mouth onto your nipple
“oh eywa!” you sigh.
“princess?” you’re gasping when he’s on top of you and gently smiling. “i want you to touch me too, i want you to show me how i make you feel with your hands, yeah?” you’re only able to nod while your mate is fully clothed and you’re almost naked
“good girl.”
you feel him start to trail a kiss down your stomach a to your navel. once he was in front of your web like fabric that’s covering your pussy, he closes his eyes and takes a breath before using his teeth to slide off the web like loincloth from your body.
you can imagine how his erected cock is begging to be free and looking for attention.
neteyam used his hand to rip off the fabric that’s being a wall from getting what he wanted and deep growl from he chest haves when he sees your arousal creating a thin line and connected to the fabric. oh how he wanted to devour you so bad
the thing is removed from your legs and thrown to the side and neteyam presses your legs wider to see your folds slowly open and your clit throb. oh how your scent is driving him nuts. “you’re so wet.” he says and you’re about to talk before he wraps his mouth on your clit and starts to suck. hard.
“NETEYAM!” you cry out, half of your body jolting up when he tugs on your clit with his teeth. you feel him take a long sniff and moan before plunging his tongue to your hole. “oh mother,” your long moan makes his ego boost and he keeps lapping your juices
your hands are on his locks now, tugging hard and grinding him onto your pussy, but his glare was telling you he wants to drag you there by himself.
your hips risen and gets pressed down with your mate’s large palm below your navel. “let me make you cum.” was the only thing he said before ruining you. his nose grinding onto your throbbing clit while he laps your arousal clean with his tongue fucking you deep.
“ngh..!” you’re now pushing his head away but one strong hand grabs yours and throws it to the side. he’s getting frustrated when you keep pushing him away from making you happiest woman alive.
your chest having up and down was a sign to tell him you’re almost there, and neteyam grins in the middle of tongue fucking you. “that’s it baby, cum for me. cum for your ‘teyam.” and you let go.
back arched, you let go of the bubble in your stomach.
neteyam? he’s so mesmerized by your state and how you’re gushing his face had him completely bricked up right now.
neteyam crawls the mat until he’s your face level and your cheeks redden from the sight. his lips and chin is glistening from your release that shines from the light directly coming out from the moon. neteyam used his arm to wipe your arousal from his face.
he didn’t waste anytime as he unties his loincloth and throw it to the side. your inside clenches at the sight of your man’s cock as it sprang and slaps his stomach before bouncing at the freedom.
it’s veiny and you can’t help but moan when neteyam uses his own hands to bring his cock down and palm himself. “so fucking sexy you are.” he tells you as he stares to your soul, “you drive me insane, everything about you… drives me insane.” he whines when his thumb gilded over his own slit.
“shit, need to be inside you.” at his words you spread your legs wide but frown when neteyam shook his head and got out from in between your legs. “where are you going?” he wasn’t even going anywhere
your confused state follows his actions and neteyam lies beside you on his back and turns to you, tapping you thigh. “c’mere” he pulls you to him and your eyes widen understanding his request. “n-no.” you’re only ignored before you feel yourself being pulled and sat on him.
you’re now straddling him as you’re sat right above his blue throbbing cock. “you’re gonna be so deep like this” you say trying to change his mind but your words only turn him on. “mhm, it’s gonna be okay.”
“‘teyam, it won’t fit…” you persist and try to get up but neteyam pulls you down. “i’ll make it fit.” your inside clenches. “oh,” your mouth opens for a loud moan when neteyam squeezes your ass and split them for his hard and angry tip to enter you.
“swallow me just like that, fuck yeah baby.” you winch every second you welcome him inside you. it’s not like you guys haven’t had sex recently, you both did fuck yesterday morning but he’s so big you’ve to readjust him and take him well every time he fucks in to yo-
“neteyam!” you gasp out when he thrusts upward and chuckles when you slap his chest hard. “you’re so slow, princess and i told ya i need to be inside you.” you whimper when he runs his hand up to your thighs and hips then waist and grips you right there.
you feel his girth kiss the opening of your cervix and your toes curl. “that’s it baby, relax for me” you’re taking deep breath and your man feels your walls relax around him. “arch your back and ride me.” he deadpans
you nod, eyes wide and adjust yourself on top of him enough to lean and use the wooden drawer behind him as a leverage but you instantly let a sharp scream out them neteyam ruts to you up again but this time harder
“nuh-uh princess.” he licks his lips and sighs in between strangled moan. “i said back arched.” his brows are knitted and his face serious. “need you to ride me with your back arched.”
you’re about to curse him before he raise an eyebrow as a warning.
you lick your lips and decide to be a good girl by arching you back and using your hands to support you by placing them on his chest. you’re slow but start to move your hips and neteyam nods while moaning
“yeah that’s it my girl, fuck me just like that.” you can’t even say a word at his praising that are like a pat on your head. your unintentional clench only pushes him to the edge every time you’re moving on top of him.
“you’re so tight.” he tells you with a breathless moan as you raise up and kneel before sinking down his length. “mhm,” you both moan. you’re shuddering above him with every move you make and you try to lean in to him.
“back arched, fuck me back arched princess” he repeats, he’s so gonna be the death of you.
you’re too unfocused to hear him and eventually lean. “fucking little brat.” neteyam hisses before bringing his body up and kneeling as you’re sat on his strong thighs while he’s inside you
you feel him bring both of your hands to your back and holds them both with one hand while the other lands on your waist and pushes you to his chest. you’re now bent in half, breast pressed to him and hands held behind you
you close your eyes tight when you feel neteyam so much deeper than before and you’re sure you can feel your tummy bulged out with his cock like that.
“look at me.”
you didn’t think twice before opening your yellow eyes and look straight to his. “not gonna tell you again or imma have to break you alright?” his tone is serious. “you ride me with your back arched got it?” you’re awfully silent but yelp as he tugs your hands that’s behind you
“yes!” you gasp but he wasn’t buying your whining self. “yes what?” he huffs “yes! yes sir” your forehead is sweating and you let a relieved sigh out when he loosens his grip on yours but doesn’t completely lets you go
with your back arched, you start to bounce on his dick and hear him mutter sweet nothings to your ear. “ma ‘teyam”, you’re whimpering at this point, tears threatening to fall.
you moan while neteyam leans and boldly licks your mouth and starts to thrust, wildly moving his hips. “n-no wait don’t move!”
you’re trying to free your hand to push him away but neteyam only tightens his hands on your small ones. “trying to escape now, are we?” his chest roars with a chuckle. “you think i’ll let you go right after you greet me with that slutty cloth of yours?” you feel him nudge your nose with his.
“mhm?” you shake your head, “no s-sir…oh mother eywa!” you keep gasping for air while neteyam keeps kissing you. you try to turn your face away from him but his one hand comes to grip your jaw at a place. “stop turning away from my love to you.” he’s so romantic yet wicked.
neteyam ruts to you while ruining you and he leans back to see where you both are connected, your skin slapping and squelching sound helps him get near his orgasm. with one last look at your face, neteyam sucks onto his own mouth and collect a glob of spit
you’re whining messy when his spit directly hits your exposed clit, “ma ‘teyam...” you cry out and by the sound you’re letting out and your erratic movement he knew you’re close
“let it out, baby.” he smiles as he fucks into you. “cum for me” you wanted to tell him at least to stop when you’re cumming but his tortures can’t even let you think of a word, your brain is completely mushed.
you gush out on his cock and neteyam throws his head back when he feels you milk him good. “oh fuck fuck fuck i’m close.”
you watch him with blurry eyes and black dots covering your vision as your body keeps jolting.
“tell me you love me baby.” his harsh breath hits your lips when he pressed his forehead against yours. “tell me you love me so fucking much hm?”
“i- i lov…i love you” you’re gasping for air and neteyam closes his eyes a happy smile stretching his lips. “i love you more, i love you so fucking much” you feel his hand that was holding your hand being you let’s you go and you instantly wrap your hands on his neck
“‘m sorry i hurt you princess.” neteyam says, tucking your hair behind your ear and you just nod too tired to talk back. “i’m gonna cum” his eyes flatten and he whispers. “cum for me” you tell him and he obeys
it was his last push when you said that word and neteyam shoots ropes of cum inside you. “you’re tiny and adorable when you struggle against me” he growls trying to recover from his orgasm
“and you looked beautiful tonight.” you giggle and shy yourself away from him. “hm, no look at me when i tell you how amazing you’re.” he kisses your nose.
“i love you” he whispers still inside you. “i love you too.” you kiss him.
neteyam rolls his eyes at your confession, “don’t say ‘too’ it feels like you’re just agreeing with me to feel good.” he’s so dramatic sometimes, “fine, i love you more.” neteyam suddenly gives you a hard thrust and you whine. “‘teyam i’m sore!” you tell him
“hm, sorry but i love you most and you know that.”
you don’t fight back at this point, you just agree and tell him to clean you up and go to bed.
sprinkles pandora’s holy water on y’all thirsty bitches out there who’s twinning with me 👯‍♂️
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l0vergirlwrites · 1 year
Text
make up ; jj maybank
warnings: angst & post-reassurance
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you didn’t mean to cause a fight with him, but emotions were bottled up & both of you couldn’t help but let things get out of control. you both yelled, cursed, made accusations & most of all—you both made the other cry a little.
this was the first time you’ve guys have had a big fight before, so neither of you knew exactly how to patch it up. jj had slipped on a sweater before grabbing the keys to his dirt bike, telling you not to wait up for him before slamming the front door shut. you stayed on the couch with your head in your hands, just crying & letting your emotions out before he returned.
you cleaned the dirty plates in the kitchen as the sun began to set, trying to distract yourself as the minutes ticked on.
jj rode all the way to the boneyard & sat in the sand with a scowl on his face, picking up some sand before letting it cascade through his fingers as the wind blew against him.
minutes turned to hours, & it was almost ten o’clock. you both had cooled down by now, so jj decided to ride back home—to you—& attempt to patch things up. you had already showered & washed your hair, coming back to your spot on the couch after changing your tear soaked sweater for a clean pair of pyjamas.
when jj returned, he saw that you left the outside light on for him, making him feel a small ‘pang’ in his chest as he pulled out his keys & unlocked the front door. he took off his shoes, put his keys back in the bowl near the door, turned off the outside light, & slowly made his way into the living room.
“hi” you croaked when you saw him come into view, the light from the living room lamp gave you just enough warm light to see him.
jj took in your form, seeing that your eyes still had a pink shade to them. he felt guilty, & so did you. so you made the first move.
“hey” he scratched the side of his neck, leaning against the wall across from you, unsure of where to move now.
“i know you told me not to wait up… but i thought i’d uh, sleep on the couch so you could have the bed…” your offer was kind, wanting to stay out of his way until you’d be allowed back in, but jj only wanted you to come to bed with him.
he shook his head with sympathy in eyes as he slowly made his way over to you. “n-no, you don’t have to sleep on the couch baby… i thought we could both go to bed… together” your lips formed an “o” shape as you gazed up at him.
“are you not mad anymore?” you asked him, voice a bit quieter than before.
“no,” he shook his head again, kneeling down to be at better eye level with you. “i’m not mad. are you still mad?”
with your eyes glossing over & head shaking “no, not anymore”. you held out your hand from him to take, feeling a bit of relief washing over you once you felt his touch.
“i’m so sorry jay… i shouldn’t have said all those mean things because i was bottling stuff up… i feel so bad—“ you apologized, guilt eating away at your chest as you looked at him—your best friend & boyfriend.
once you were about to start crying again, jj pursed his lips & gently shushed you, sitting next to you & pulling you into his side so he could wrap an arm around you. “i know, i know. i forgive you baby, we’re okay” he assured you, kissing your head a few times as you sniffled into his shoulder.
“i said some pretty mean things too—we both fucked up… i shouldn’t have left though, i should’ve stayed & worked it out with you—“ you shook your head against him, tutting a little, as you looked at him & brushed the few tear stains off your cheeks.
“it’s okay, you—we both needed to cool off before we tried to fix it” you told him, & he later agreed.
taking a deep breath, jj brushed a few strands of hair from your face, not able to hide the sad smile that was forming on his face. “you gotta tell me things instead of bottling them up, it’s not healthy y/n/n” he reminded & you agreed, knowing he was right.
“i’ll work on it, i promise. it just gets so hard when everything is so hectic & then it all explodes &…,” you started to frown, “then i hurt everyone around me…” a sigh escaped your lips again as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. “i’ll be better, i’m sorry”.
pulling your face closer to his, jj kissed your forehead a couple of times, a symbol of his love for you.
“i don’t like fighting with you. i hate it” you mumbled when his forehead touched yours, noses less than an inch away from another.
“i hate it too. i don’t like making you cry” he mumbled back.
“me too” you opened your eyes only too see him already looking back at you.
“we’ll work on this, okay?” he said as he squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of yours.
“yeah, we’ll work on it. promise” you squeezed back, smiling a little when you felt his hair tickle your forehead.
“come here,” you held his face, pulling jj closer until you were able to press a kiss to his lips, wanting to be as close to him as you could.
your lips moved slow, not in the rush for anything, as you tried to express how sorry you were to him. “i love you, i’m sorry” you whispered against him, your thumbs rubbing along his skin gently as you held him.
he only leaned in again to kiss you, his hands resting on your tucked knee & thigh. “i love you too, & i’m also sorry”.
after a few more kisses, jj decided it was time for bed. “will you sleep in bed with me tonight?” he asked you, giving you an out if you needed it.
you only kissed the corner of his mouth before responding. “yeah, of course”.
with his hand in yours, you turned off the living room light & headed to your bedroom, getting under the sheets with jj & settling your figure beside his to get some much needed sleep, feeling okay because neither of you were going anywhere.
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abbyromanoff · 5 months
Note
Hi! Can I request G!P natasha x R where Nat retired after they got married. However, Nat got a call from steve saying she's needed in the avengers and Nat says yes. She did not consider R's feelings and when she came back, she found out that R had a miscarriage due to stress. :(
I WISH I COULD SAY IM SORRY
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PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 1,538
WARNINGS: angst, kinda happy ending, stressful encounters, Nat being neglectful, pregnancies, miscarriages, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“Y/N, we’ve talked about this,” Nat proclaimed with a sigh, and her gaze was unable to meet yours. Her voice was low, as if she was tired of the topic.
“No, you talked about it, I haven’t got to put my input on any of this! I am due in less than a month, and you want to fucking leave?” She threw her clothes loosely into her bag, and her eyes squeezed shut in irritation. She tied her hair up, removing it from her view while her body began to tense.
“I don’t have a choice, this is my job.”
“And I’m nothing? I’m your wife, Natasha, your wife. You decided to marry me, in sickness and in hell, you remember?”
“Of course, I remember-“
“No, no you don’t. Because you promised me, you promised in your vows that you would never leave my side, and you’re leaving? When I am carrying your child, you want to leave for a mission that anyone else could take?”
“It’s not that simple, my qualifications are required for this.”
“What about Tony, huh? He has a suit of armor, he has blasts that come out of his hand for fucks sake. Or Steve and Bucky, who have super soldier serum? Or Wanda, who has the power to defeat the entire world if she wants to. But you’re needed? You have fists and weapons, sure you have some of the best skills known to mankind, but they will always have more than you. They got lucky, Nat. You’re stuck with the skills you learned, and they have enchantments you don’t, they could easily do anything.” She bit her lip, and her head began swarming with your words. They were better than her, and they always would be. Even in your eyes, they were better.
“I’m needed, Y/N, and my job will always be more important than you are. I will see you in a week, goodbye.” She left without the words ‘I love you’ even leaving her, and you knew that was the end of this discussion, and possibly your relationship. You felt so idiotic, maybe you overreacted? Why would you say that? You knew she had more skills than her coworkers, you were just being selfish in asking if she could stay. You tried texting her apologies, but they went unread.
While you began your episode of sulking, Nat began hers of distraction. She felt so weak hearing you say it, and her insecurities began getting the best of her. Wanda and you had always been close, too close for her liking; but you always told her she had nothing to worry about, that she was simply just a friend and nothing more. But Wanda was stronger than her, she had the ability to defeat all of mankind, but Nat didn’t. Nat could barely even keep you happy, and she knew Wanda made you happier. Wanda was like your break, and your wife was the one making you need a break. And while that was nowhere near the truth in your mind, it was in hers.
The mission continued with little word from Nat, and the stress began taking over. You were filled with worry, and panic, and Nat wasn’t there to relieve that. No, she was the one causing it. You wanted to hate her, how could she leave you like this? But you didn’t just blame her, you blamed yourself. How could you be so stupid? How could you let your emotions get the best of you and belittle her strength when knowing that was her weak spot? You weren’t deserving of her, but that didn’t mean she had to leave you to rot alone.
The only hope you had was Nathan, the baby boy resting in your stomach. And you thought it would be impossible to lose him too, but when you woke with your sheets covered in blood, your crotch the same, you had a gut feeling that this was the last of it. Nat said she would always be here for you, but now she was gone, and you could only hope your child didn’t have the same fate. And while you wanted to have faith, you began picturing the hardships of losing him, and it caused your eyes to blur the entire ride to the hospital. It wasn’t far, and Wanda was on the phone the entire time to console you while ensuring she would be there as soon as possible, it felt as though seconds were hours, and days were months.
“I’m so scared, Wanda, I can’t lose my little boy.” Her heart shattered the worse your thoughts became, and she couldn’t deny that hers were beginning to stir as well.
“You’re not going to lose him, Y/N.”
“You don’t know that.” There was a small beat of silence before her wounded voice arrived once more.
“No, I don’t. But I want to believe it.”
“Nat, you need to get your ass home now. Y/N had to go into emergency labor, they didn’t allow me in but you need to man up and fucking get here already.” You were brought into surgery instantly, and they began performing a c-section in a desperate hope to save the child. Nat’s eyes widened when hearing the news, and in less than minutes she was stirring the Quinjet in your direction. It took less than an hour before she was there, and by the time she was, Wanda was no longer in the waiting room. She stormed in, lips failing to produce the words she wanted to say until Wanda stood, and Nat could tell by the look she gave that she wasn’t going to be receiving positive words.
“Where’s my boy?” Wanda looked down and gulped the tears back, wiping her cheek from the ones that chose to appear. “Where is Nathan, Wanda? Where’s my baby boy?” Tears of her own began to form, and she tried forcing them to stay at bay, but they quickly began streaming down her face.
“She had a miscarriage, The Doctor said all the stress got to her, and, uhm, the baby died, Natasha.” She put her hands on her hips, and Nat nearly broke entirely. It felt like her entire life was coming down on her, and the realization that it was her fault sunk in. She was the one to cause your pain, your stressing mind, and it was what caused the death of her child. She was a killer to her own family.
“I…”
“Don’t, Nat, it’s best you don’t say anything. You already hurt them enough, they don’t deserve this from you.” Nat decided to stay until you woke, but you begged her to go away. She cried by your side, apologies and pleas leaving her tightening throat, but you continued to stay strong in your choice. Wanda forced her to leave, and while you cried to yourself over the grief of your loves, Wanda began digging into Nat. She yelled, pushing the woman back until they stood outside, and Nat was deemed as too weak to fight back.
“They don’t need you, Natasha, and I certainly don’t need to see you, either. So you decide, you leave on your own, or I’ll force you to your fucking grave myself.” Nat paused, and while she was turning to leave, she suddenly stopped.
“You love them, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You love Y/N.”
“Of course, I do-“
“No, you love them. You’re in love with my wife, aren’t you?”
“Alright, maybe I do, what’s the problem with that? You weren’t there for them, Nat, and guess what; I was the one to swoop in and save the day once again. And watching them run back to you time and time again fucking destroyed me and I’m not letting them make the same mistake again. I don’t care if they love me or not, I will continue to do so and I will continue to show it until the moment I die. So, please, do us all a favor and leave, they’re better off without you.”
Nat didn’t come back, but she watched you from the shadows each day. And one single day stuck out to her. She was sitting in the park, a cap on her head and a book that she hurried her face in. She knew you’d be here, but she didn’t expect Wanda to be there as well. Her eyes widened at the baby carriage you pushed around and the growing stomach. She watched Wanda put her arm around your waist protectively while she glanced with a smile at the young toddler and the soon-to-be child inside of you. Nat’s face fell, and for a moment she pictured herself in the witch's spot.
But then she realized, she used to be the one doing so, she used to be the one holding you and glancing down at what was going to be her baby boy, but you never looked as happy as you did. Maybe it was because of the addition to your small family, or maybe it was because you finally chose the right woman.
And now Nat knew she would forever be stuck as your first love, but someone else would be your last.
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queerpumpkinnn · 8 months
Text
Kinktober 1st: More Than You Can Chew
aka dad's best friend with Bucky Barnes
3.8k words
Summary: You’ve been teasing him for hours, and he makes damn sure you get what’s coming to you.
Pairing: Dbf!Bucky Barnes x afab!reader
Warnings: age gap (reader is ~20, Bucky’s ~40), Bucky doesn’t have the metal arm in this one, drinking (Bucky has like one drink), safeword in place, slight themes of manipulation and daddy issues but what did we expect with dbf, mentions of reader watching porn, pillow humping, sexting and sending nude pictures/videos, mentions of throat training, unprotected piv sex (wrap of before you tap it), creampie, oral sex (both receiving), choking, biting, hair pulling, one slap, reader is called whore/slut, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dacryphilia, talk of getting a dildo mold, brief spanking, let me know if I missed anything!
While reading, I recommend you listen to guys my age - a Spotify playlist by me!
~
Maybe you just woke up like this.
Maybe it was the position of the planets. Maybe it was what you ate the night before. Whatever it was, it stirred insatiable heat in your belly, enough to have you rolling around in bed until you wound up straddling a pillow and riding it for dear life.
You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. 9:43. Bucky wasn't due back at yours until 2. That meant you would have to wait over four hours for dick.
You huffed, eyebrows scrunching together in frustration. You were no closer to release than you were an hour ago. You'd tried going through porn, videos of you and Bucky, but nothing worked. The tingling had settled into a dull ache; you'd hit a wall. All of your clothes had long since been discarded, strewn in all corners of the bedroom. Sweat had matted at your hairline, and your thighs and pillowcase were sticky from your frantic rutting.
You snatched your phone from the corner of the bed.
Bucky: I'll be back around 2. You'll be alright until then, doll?
You huffed, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, finger tapping the side of the phone. You left the messaging app and switched over to the camera, propping it up against your nightstand clock so that it was angled to capture a perfect view of you sat on your soiled pillow, your flushed face.
You pressed record, then sat back on the pillow, pushing hair out of your face. Your fingers were delicate, just barely whispering over your skin. Bucky lived vicariously through the videos you'd send him because you touched yourself in them. He imagined his hands feeling the touch you were displaying in the recording. So you teased the idea. Your jaw was slightly dropped, breathing bated even though you knew exactly what you'd be feeling next. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut but you forced them open, hooded and staring back at yourself, at what would be-
"Bucky," you sighed, hands ghosting over your neck, giving a soft squeeze before snaking down to your tits, your waist, your thighs, before clutching the pillow to ground you.
Your movements were slow, sensual, teasing not only to your viewer but to yourself. As soon as your hips started rolling and you got a taste of that delicious friction against your clit you gasped, eyes nearly rolling back. Whimpers began leaving your lips, growing higher and louder as you continued, swiping your hips faster.
"Bucky, please...more, please..." you sighed, eyes falling shut as your head fell back.
Focus, you told yourself. You reached for the phone, bringing it down to get a better view of your cunt, of the mess on the pillow. A better capture of the sounds your slicked, messy pussy was making.
"Fuck, Bucky, need you so bad. Come home, Bucky, please..."
You: [Attatchment: 1 Video]
You: Yeah I think I'll manage
It was a lie, of course, you knew that even if you did make yourself cum it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying or as much fun as if Bucky were there. But Bucky had a thing for you needing him, even more for bringing you down a few notches.
It took a grand total of four minutes for his response.
Bucky: Jesus Christ
Bucky: You couldn't wait a few hours?
You: Nope
You: [Attatchment: 1 Image]
Bucky: I can't get hard in front of your dad doll
You: Pity. Come home then.
Bucky: You want me to just walk out? You know I can't do that.
You: You have legs
You: Or I can finish by myself if you'd rather
Bucky: If you didn't need something from me you wouldn't have started sending me videos of you riding your pillow like a bitch in heat
Bucky: Stay off the damn pillow. I'll be home at 2.
You opted not to respond with text, rather, snapping a few pictures and videos of yourself sucking on your soaked fingers, your ass rolling as you ground into the poor pillow, et cetera.
As the hours crawled by, you began to grow bored of your plight. Bucky's message telling you to stay off the pillow (by which you did not abide) was the last you'd heard from him. You opted to find something to eat, spending the hours lazing around, scrolling through your streaming options from the bed.
Until you'd become so engrossed in a show you didn't hear the text from Bucky telling you he was on his way home. It wasn't until the rumble of the car engine sounded from downstairs that you jerked up to turn the television off. The heat in your cheeks and gut began to flare up again, and you darted towards the bathroom to check your appearance.
Although the sound of the door opening was relatively quiet, it had you jumping out of your skin in anticipation. You were donning nothing but a long T-shirt, undergarments long forgotten.
You stepped out quietly, leaning against the wall with as little smugness on your face as you can muster. Your arms are crossed as you watch Bucky kick his shoes off, fingers threading through long hair matted with sweat.
You waited, patiently, quietly, for him to glance around the room. And when he did, he stared at you silently for a grand total of two seconds before strolling into the kitchen.
What the fuck?
You tiptoed in after him. You could tell that the nonchalance was ingenuine. By the clench in his jaw, the flitting of his eyes to see where you were without looking at you, that he was practicing restraint.
"Hi, Bucky," you tried, but he only gave you a hum, still avoiding your gaze as he brought down a glass from the high cabinet.
"How was your day?" You tried again, chewing the inside of your cheek.
"Good." He sighed, pouring himself a drink. He gave your hair a ruffle before sliding past you and plopping himself down on the couch and turning on the television.
You turned on your heel, watching him in disbelief. Pretty much your entire lower half was bared to him. Bucky could barely keep his hands off you when you wore shorts.
And yet he wasn't even looking at you. You huff, taking a seat next to him and swinging your legs over his lap. Although he doesn't spare you a glance, he rests his hand on your knee, stroking it with his thumb.
And then an idea sparks in your head. An enormously consequential one, but an idea nonetheless. You pull a leg out from under Bucky's hand and bring it to the other side of you, so that your legs are spread wide. He gives no indication he's noticed. He continues to stroke the ankle still resting in his lap.
Your hand drew up before it had any clear destination; lingering around your face before landing at your jaw, tracing delicate touches along your cheek down to your neck. You released a soft sigh when your fingers found those familiar pressure points to make your pulse race and your vision blur.
You watched him diligently, waiting for a dart of the eyes, a twitch of the hand. Nothing.
Your fingers trailed down over your collarbone, down to your chest. Your chest arched into your own touch when your thumb brushed over your nipple, already hardened under your shirt.
It takes all of your might not to grin when you feel Bucky's thumb stutter in its movement. He was ominously still, and if you looked at his chest, you would notice that it wasn't rising and falling.
You begin pinching and teasing your nipples, resorting to both hands. You give a weak sound, lips falling open to give way to quiet gasps.
If you hadn't closed your eyes and begun focusing on your own pleasure, you would have noticed that Bucky's leg was now shivering, as though it wanted to bounce but was being restrained. His jaw was clenched and his hand now had a firm grip on your ankle. But he still wasn't looking at you.
Your shirt was now bunched up around your stomach, so it was no feat to ghost your hand lower, lower...
"What do you think you're doing?"
You jumped when the words snapped you out of your cloudy headspace. A firm hand gripped your wrist, just inches away from the buzzing ache between your thighs, and tugged it forward. You yelped, eyes flying open. Your free hand had to grasp Bucky's shoulder so as not to fall.
"Fuckin' pitiful, aren't you?" he snarls, breath warming your cheeks. "Can't even wait ten minutes for me?"
"But I've been waiting all day!" You protested, but it sounded more like a whine. Your words trailed off at the end, when you actually looked at Bucky. His figure loomed over yours like a great stony shadow, filled with silent malice.
Bucky scoffs. "Sure you have. So patient, especially when you begged me to come home. Sending me videos of you riding your pillow like the most cock-starved little thing."
"But-"
"Nuh uh." Bucky stands, taking a fistful of hair instead and tugging shortly. Eagerly, you followed suit. "If you're so cock-hungry, go on. Since you want it so bad."
You were face to face with his crotch, a very visible bulge brushing against the tip of your nose. The sting on your scalp and the throbbing heat of your cunt made your brain fuzzy, but at the same time all of your senses were on high alert.
Your body acted on its own, tongue lolling out from instinct. Muscle memory led you to drag your tongue over the bulge, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.
"Jesus fuck," he huffed, grip on your roots flexing.
Your fingers made quick work of his pants, yanking them down with his underwear. Madness itched in the bones of your fingers, as though your very skin came alive at the thought of touching him.
His cock dipped heavily under its own weight, already dripping. You caught the dribble and slicked it over your palm, taking him in your hand. His hips twitch into your touch.
Peering up at him through your lashes, you begin lapping at the tip of his cock, hand working his shaft. Bucky let out a groan, guttural and sinful, raspier when his head kicked back after your lips closed around him.
You knew you wouldn't be able to take him to the hilt. So you matched your fist with your lips, taking him in slow bobs while your other hand held his thigh to anchor you.
Bucky gave a hum, brushing your hair out of your eyes in a manner that might have seemed affectionate. "So fuckin' hungry for dick, aren't you? Poor thing, so dumb, so needy. Probably would've hopped on the first dick you saw if you stepped outside. Good thing 'm here to take care of you, hm? Keep you satisfied, nice and full. Keep you humble too."
You attempted to nod, watching him through misty eyes as he tsked and cooed in what sounded to your hazed brain like loving pity. You were taking him in like your life depended on it, like it was your dying wish to see him cum, to make him feel good.
You didn't even feel the ache in your jaw, the sting of tears in your eyes. All that mattered was him. The flutter of his eyelids, his fingers twitching in your hair, his hips pushing up into your mouth. Even when he held your head down, dark chuckle rumbling in his chest at the sight of you breathing shakily through your nose. You needed to please him.
"Fuck, doll, keep going, just like that, Christ..." Bucky's eyes screwed shut and his jaw fell open, a cue that you'd come to recognize. You doubled your efforts, swallowing around him as hot spurts hit the back of your throat. It began dripping out of the corners of your mouth, but Bucky kept your head down until he was done rutting into it. It dripped down onto your shirt, your bare thighs.
"That's it, fucking take it, take what I fucking give you, atta girl..."
Bucky's deep breathing, topped off with a cocky, hazed grin, made your eyelids droopy with proud exhaustion. Your tongue passed over your lips a few times, fingers swiping away the mess on your legs.
"Good girl, hm? Took me so well. Training's paid off." Bucky hummed, thumb smoothing over your cheek. You nodded dreamily, sucking on your cum-soaked finger.
"Oh, look at that, baby, you made a mess."
You looked around dumbly, then down between your legs. Your arousal had dripped onto the hardwood since you'd been put there. You hadn't came, but it still made you flush red.
"Poor thing, I've been neglecting you. Been so good to me, think you've earned it." You perked up like a puppy at his words. "Yeah? Let's find out."
Bucky scooped you up in his arms, maneuvering into your room and setting you down on the mattress. It dipped again under his own weight as he climbed over you.
"Lay back, sweetheart. Let me take care of you." He tugged your ankles towards him as if to accentuate his instruction, pushing your thighs apart.
"Jesus Christ, doll, you're so messy." Bucky is practically in awe of your pussy, thumbs pulling the lips open just to watch slick web between them. "Woulda told you to clean up the mess you made on the floor so we didn't waste any, but honey... this worked up for me?"
"All for you," you sighed, thigh muscles flexing under his touch, tracing over the dip between your thigh and your cunt. Any sophisticated thought you may have once had had long since floated away as he pushed both legs up towards your chest.
Bucky's lips trace over the skin of your thigh, sending goosebumps up your body. You shuddered when he kissed the skin connecting the backs of your thighs and your ass.
"Relax, sweet. 'M not gonna hurt ya."
That was quite likely a lie, but it sounded so sweet, how could you not believe him? Especially when his tongue traced your lips, drawing a mewl from your throat.
Bucky was nothing if not intuitive. He predicted every jolt of your hips, every increase in volume before you could. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. How to wind you up and unravel you, and Lord was he doing it. His movements on your clit were slow, deliberate. He never rushed, always thorough and deliberate in everything he did, knowing how much you loved the anticipation.
"So fuckin' messy, doll, so sweet."
"All for you, Bucky, please," you whined, fingers grasping onto the pillow for dear life (not the one you'd previously messed).
"Patience, honey. You'll get what's coming," he hummed, and you could feel the smirk growing on his face.
You let out a gasp when a sudden feeling of fullness engulfed you. Your hands had to fly to your thighs to hold them up; they had begun trembling when Bucky's finger had begun curling, dipping in and out at a torturous pace.
"'Atta girl, y'take me so easily. Greedy, greedy pussy pulls me right back in." You clenched at the praise. "Aw, honey, are y'close? Yeah? Can feel it, feel you squeezing me."
The addition of a second, third finger was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The edge you've been staring over for the past five hours. Your moans and gasps had long since left feeble and soft, now loud and pornographic.
You could feel the coil winding up in your belly, the bubbling of hot pleasure ready to boil over.
Until it died.
You opened your legs to stare incredulously at Bucky. His face was completely serious, sticky hands now resting on your thighs.
"Why'd you do that?" you cried, throwing your head back on the pillow. "I was so close!"
"I never said I'd let you cum, doll. I said let's find out."
You groaned, nearly kicking your feet in a tantrum. "You're not being fair!"
"Never said I would be."
You sat up slowly, lip trembling. "But you said I was good!"
"I did."
"So I deserve to cum."
Bucky frowned. "You're sounding awfully entitled, princess."
"Because I am."
A single brow was raised in warning. "D'you think you're getting anywhere with that ungrateful attitude?"
"Bucky!" You whined.
"Watch your tone."
SMACK!
You didn't think that through, you realized as soon as your hand came back to your body. Bucky's head was still turned, blinking in shock. The expression slowly gave way to annoyance as he turned back to face you. The threat his gaze held made you feel incredibly small.
"Alright." Bucky claimed a grip on your throat, pulling you forward so that you were face to face. "You wanna cum so bad?"
He didn't give a conclusion to his question, but you knew the answer anyways. Your stomach pricked with excitement.
"Bucky-" your words were cut off by your own broken gasp, when his fingers plunged back into you. His movements were still unhurried, but they were meaner, his fingers bullying into you.
It didn't take long to get you close. You'd be embarrassed at how quickly you'd become a writhing mess under his touch if not for the drunkenness off of it. His groans on your clit and the delicious stretch of his fingers clouded your vision with lust. You searched, desperately, for more of that feeling, even though it overwhelmed you, hips lifting off the bed to meet him.
"Down, doll." He grunted, pinning your hips down. You wanted to wiggle, some kind of movement, but his palm on your abdomen moved to pin your hip whenever you tried.
"Bucky, oh god, Bucky, Bucky please..." all restraint of tongue was abandoned as white-hot pleasure washed over you, blooming from your core out to your toes and fingertips. Your hands flew to his hair when the pleasure had subsided into jolts. But he remained diligent in his movements, speeding up when he noticed your panic.
"Please, too much, Bucky, can't-"
"Yes you can." He said simply. "You were begging to cum earlier."
"Hurts, Bucky..." your legs began to twitch around his head.
"You can take it."
The jolts remained even as he got you closer and closer to your second, third, fourth high, but they became washed over with the same pure need as before. By the time he was working on your fifth, a pool of sweat had accumulated under your back and your bum. Bucky's hands had long since become pruny, but their fervor did not cease. Both of you had hair matted to your forehead and were breathing heavily. You more than him, you were crying and your voice was hoarse.
"Come on, baby, give me one more." He'd said that the last three times, and yet you continued to believe him.
"Can't, Bucky, too much," you sobbed, shaky hands grasping the sheets under you as you squirmed and shivered.
"You can. I know you can, you've done it before, my good girl. You can take it, can't you?"
Well, when he said it like that. Something in your chest bloomed with pride when he called you that. Feeling the sudden urge to prove yourself, to make him proud, you opened your mouth. "Yeah. I can take it. Please, please make me take it. Make me take your cock."
Bucky was swift to change his position, now face to face with you as he lined his cock up with your soaked hole. You clutched his shoulders as he slid into you, so easily with how wet you'd become but still enough of a burn to make you dizzy.
"Fuck, princess, so wet. So ready for me, so greedy." Bucky grunted when you clenched. "Don't fuckin' do that."
You didn't even intend to clench again, but watching his eyes roll back and his mouth fall open at the feel of you pulled that response from you on its own.
Bucky groaned, his hips jerking forward on their own. He began rolling into you slowly, but patience quickly left him and he began pummeling into you, hitting the deepest spots of you. His breath and deep groans were right by your ear as he bit down on your shoulder, stained with tears.
"Such a dumb little whore, huh? Spend all day begging for cock, and even when she has it she can't get enough. Do we need to get a mold of my dick? So you have something to keep you satisfied? Maybe you'd just leave it in, so you can spend all day full of my cock. That way when I come home you'll always be prepped for me."
The mere thought tipped you over the edge, crying his name over and over again as your pussy spasmed around him. Bucky groaned, biting down harder as he pushed his own release deep into you.
"That's it, good fucking girl. Take all of my cum, gotta keep it inside. That's my good cumslut."
When his hips slowed, a strange mixture of relief and disappointment eased over you. You were too tired to discern the two, heavy eyes falling shut.
You heard Bucky moving around beside you, then felt him scoop you up and carry you somewhere. You squinted when a bright light was turned on.
"Here we go." Bucky kicked the toilet lid up and set you down. You suddenly felt very sticky and dirty.
But the sound of bathwater running eased your mind, and Bucky stepped out to leave the room. You sighed, smacking your dry lips as you stepped into the bath. It was relaxing on your leg muscles, properly worn and exhausted.
At some point when you opened your eyes, Bucky had stepped back in, and was leaning against the counter.
"I'm never one to complain, but good god do you make a lot of laundry." Bucky snarked, crossing one ankle over the other as he clicked open his phone.
"I'm not the one who didn't think ahead enough to put down a towel."
"Touche." You watched Bucky's brows furrow, and before you can ask why you're met with the familiar sounds of your moans- the ones you made when you teased him this morning. He must have stopped checking his phone while he was out- he did say he didn't want to be bricked up in front of your dad.
Bucky was completely silent as he watched, but he was intensely focused. By the time he'd gotten to the end of the videos, he was rock hard. When he was done, he set his phone down and stepped towards the bathtub.
"Alright, make room."
~
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
Marvel Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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nihilo-sensei · 3 months
Text
The Infamous Chuuya-SSKK Car Ride
Two. Fucking. Hours.
Akutagawa and Atsushi have been arguing for two hours almost non-stop and there's still an hour to go in the trip. If you had asked Chuuya before he climbed into this four-wheeled prison what the most annoying thing on Earth was, he would've said without hesitation that it was dealing with Dazai. That was a more innocent time, a time before life had decided to punish him for his every felony, misdemeanor, and wasted gallon of milk. He wasn't sure if these apparently nuclear-powered bickering machines being confined to the backseat was better or worse for him. Probably better; at least one half of the invective wasn't being spewed directly into his left ear.
As much as he wanted to blame a member of the Armed Detective Agency for all of his misery, he was disappointed to say that it had been his subordinate and fellow mafioso who started this. Granted it hadn't taken much to get the weretiger to dive down to Akutagawa's level, but he was just trying to make conversation, asking if Chuuya listened to much music. Honestly, the gravity manipulator would've been delighted to spend a three-hour car ride talking about music, even with an ADA member. It was kind of nice that the kid had reached for some common ground between them. Akutagawa really hadn't needed to cut Chuuya off before he had a chance to answer by saying, "No one cares, weretiger." That one admittedly rude remark had sealed Chuuya's fate for the rest of the ride out to the countryside. Thanks, Aku.
"You better not get in my way when we get there, weretiger. The Port Mafia doesn't need Least Beneath the Moonlight."
"I guess I'll leave the job to Brash-ōmon, then. Get over yourself."
How are they still coming up with new insults? Chuuya hadn't even had the energy to tell them to shut the fuck up passed the 35-minute mark, about 25 minutes after his throat started to hurt from trying to match their combined volume. It was like they didn't even hear him. They were in their own little world together.
That was what he'd been warned about, though, wasn't it? Akutagawa and the tiger boy had… tension. He had heard about it from Dazai, but hadn't given it much thought. After all, why would he bother listening to anything that mummy's asshole says off the battlefield? He would happily throw Dazai off a building if he wasn't sure it would make that freak even happier than it would make Chuuya. Something about this train of thought makes Chuuya feel like a hypocrite for some reason. Where was he?
"At least I don't dip my bangs in Wite-Out!"
"Your impoverished ass could only afford one bang!"
Oh right, this thick fog of something making itself at home in Chuuya's backseat and inside his pounding skull. He had thought it was just a joke or an exaggeration, but this much passion for each other? Could all of that really just be simple hate? No, this doesn't really feel like hate. But if they don't hate each other why tell themselves that they do? That's so self-destructive. They should just confront their feelings like adults. Even if those feelings aren't romantic they could still find themselves good friends, they have a lot in common. At least they'd stop making their sexual tension or whatever everyone else's problem.
Why does Chuuya feel like a hypocrite again?
Chuuya stares into the rear-view mirror. The new Double Black had practically passed out five minutes into the drive to Yokohama. Not surprising after the mission had turned out to be far more complicated then they had anticipated. He wasn't complaining, he really couldn't deal with another three hours of angry sound waves bouncing around an enclosed space. Truthfully, they'd earned the rest. Even when the situation was going to shit they'd worked well together. Atsushi kept Akutagawa's mind on the civilians while Akutagawa's support kept Atsushi calm and focused. Chuuya sees now why Dazai put them together, not that Chuuya would ever openly tell the man he was right.
So he'd let the pair sleep, only debating whether he should wake them up after the blessedly silent car had crossed the Yokohama city limit. He had glanced into the mirror and caught sight of something that made him suddenly redirect as much attention as he safely could to it. The Sun had set halfway through the drive so he had had to wait for the car to pass the next street light to get a good look at it, and sure enough he saw exactly what he thought he had. At some point in the drive Atsushi and Akutagawa had leaned into each other while they slept. Atsushi's head was now resting on Akutagawa's shoulder while the mafioso's head rested on top of the weretiger's. Chuuya smiled. Definitely not hate.
As the car nears the ADA office, where Atsushi was to be dropped off, Chuuya pulls into a gas station with a new mission in mind. After he puts the car in park he takes out his phone and hopes that fatigue keeps the pair asleep and unaware while he does what needs to be done. He gambles on using the flash and wins a nice, clear picture that's going to absolutely make his fucking day the next time Akutagawa decides to make him sit through another "that goddamn foolish weretiger" rant. But was it really fair to make just Akutagawa suffer when Atsushi was about as responsible for Chuuya's three-hour ordeal earlier? No. And isn't the ADA all about that justice shit?
Chuuya opens his text thread with Dazai, taps his thumbs to the screen a few times, and hands down Atsushi's sentence with the push of 'Send'. He only has to wait a few seconds before the weretiger's irritating superior responds.
Mackerel (21:04): Oh my god, thank you so much for this! How useful my dog is becoming!
You (21:04): I seriously can't do this with you right now, Dazai. Those little bastards almost wiped me out on the way to the mission. They argued the entire time. I'm fucking tired.
Mackerel (21:05): Impressive, isn't it?
"Impressive" was one way of putting it. "Never gonna happen again" was another.
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httpsghostie · 10 months
Note
Hi!!! I'm obsessed with your writing, especially all the Ghost stuff. YUM!! I was wondering if you'd be able to write an angsty and emotional blurb with DBF Ghost...Maybe they get into a fight or something
Favorite Regret
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3
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took me a while to get to this but hope you enjoy it <3
any similarities with sleep token is a mere coincidence I am not responsible for this
Summary: Simon doesn't know how to handle love, so he pushes you away.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: dbf!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader, angst/hurt, alcohol abuse, age gap (reader's in 20s and simon in his late 30s) // masterlist
Your story with Simon began a few months back when he returned from his duty and desperately – more like unconsciously, needed affection.
It happened, you were there, emotionally available for you dad’s best friend, it was wrong, he knew it, but Christ you were too good to be true.
Always there for him, dropping off work and studies only to take care of a fever he’d have, pampering him with lots of kisses, making him a warm cup of tea. He was never a physical touch kinda guy, but with you, the way you felt lying peacefully on his chest, he couldn’t help it, he became clingy, almost annoyingly clingy.
And he filled you with empty promises, painting a future for the two of you. He held you in his arms, he let you invade his personal space – which he then called our personal space. You were in fields of elation, but every color seemed to fade as he shut the doors to his heart again.
It’s almost like he determined you were no longer useful, you had given everything to him, you trusted him wholeheartedly, just for him to take it all from you and throw it in the bin.
You hated him, the image of the one you loved and cared for turning black and white as the entirety of your relationship turned meaningless. It’s like he gave you a whole beautiful horizon that stretched ahead in front of you, and then made it disappear from your view, leaving you standing at the edge of uncertainty.
He took what he wanted from you and left.
“You’re not getting it, this is never going to work, your dad doesn’t even know about us, he’ll kill me if he finds out. God, what have I done?” He had his back turned to you as he sat on the edge of the messy bed from your previous actions. You covered your bare chest with the blanket, your face getting red and hot.
“No, you don’t get it, Simon. I’m a fucking adult, and you are a childish, self centered idiot, can’t you see it? You just cared for me when you needed someone to be by your side, and now that you don’t need me anymore, you’re gonna throw what we had away because what? You said so?” You screamed back at him, eyes filled with hot tears that dared to roll down your cheeks.
“Call me what you want, I don’t care. This was a mistake.”
“A mistake? Is that what you’re gonna call me?” Your voice was shaky, and you tried your best to keep your cool. You dressed yourself quickly, still expecting an answer from him, but he just sat there, watching all the events unfold. “What is wrong with you?”
“You don’t wanna be with me, I can’t even stand myself, you deserve someone better.”
“Someone better?” You stood in front of him in denial, crossing your arms, but he never looked at you. “Did I just hear you right?” 
“I’ve made myself clear, kid. You should go.” He finally got up, and your eyes accompanied his emerging size. But he still never looked at you, he just walked up to the front door to his apartment and opened it. You slammed it closed, pointing a finger to his face.
“You listen to me-”
“No, you listen to me.” He grabbed the sides of your arms, holding you firmly. His teary eyes staring down into your soul. “Do you think this isn’t hard for me, either? You don’t understand, we can’t be together, I can’t disappoint your father like that, I can’t be with you. I should’ve never texted you in the first place.”
And the way he spoke made you inhale a familiar smell escaping from his lips. Whiskey.
“Simon, are you drunk?” You cried. 
“Go.” He finally let go of your arms, leaving your skin almost bruised.
You brushed your arms and headed to his kitchen, trying to find the bottle that was shoved in the trash can. You picked the empty whiskey bottle, noticing a discarded pack of cigarettes — empty, too, and smashed.
"You drank half a bottle?" You raised the object to your head, he looked down, rubbing his eyes. "Unbelievable."
"You're still young, you have a prosperous future ahead of you and I won't be the one to hold you back." He said quietly, fighting back the tears and the agonizing pain in his chest.
"God, you talk like you have a terminal disease." You scolded, leaving the bottle on the kitchen aisle and grabbing your stuff from the couch. "Maybe you do, Simon, maybe your terminal disease is not being able to accept love. Maybe your terminal disease is you becoming the one who you swore you'd never become."
It came out strained, and you didn't realize you were comparing him to his father until his hand gripped your wrist tightly. He looked deep into your eyes, and you could see how pissed he was.
"I'm not him. Get out." You pulled away and he opened the door one more time. 
You didn't comply, your eyes desperately tried to find the loving Simon you knew, the one who held you close in the night, the one who couldn't stand your cheesy movies but still watched them with you. But he wasn't there, the version you saw in front of you had killed the previous one. The Simon you knew was dead.
"Simon, I didn't-"
"Get out." 
Now he screamed, almost spitting out, his hot tears flooding his eyes and rolling down his red cheeks. 
He stood outside the apartment watching you clumsily press the buttons on the elevator, giving him one last glance before finally walking away.
A mistake. That's how he said it. This relationship was a mistake, and you were his favorite regret.
taglist: @butterbunana @snoisisabitch @nuhteyam @iamabsolutelynothere @blissful--moon @jellyluvr @khomugi @xaintxun @kichimiz @frog-spot @sasukeswife3 @aly0be
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pixiesfz · 6 months
Note
Once again on my knees requesting a follow up where frat Jessie goes to see the reader working their shift at the bar to flirt and distract them while they’re working
I did think of this and I was like hmmm I'm not sure but you have convinced me. so here is frat boy Jessie part 2
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plot: it's been a week since the college party and three days since your dinner date with jessie and now you have a shift at your club for bartending
warnings: suggestive, ass grabbing, homophobia (idk if I'll do smut cause not sure if I'm comfortable writing it yet but we'll see) I'm back, yeah a little bit of smut. kinda public, reader went commando today
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You looked at yourself in the changing room of your work, your shorts were so short you felt your ass peeking out and your bum bag was almost longer than them. It was saint Patrick's day so your work had decided to change up the uniform for the day, instead of the usual black attire you sported green sparkly shorts with matching dark green fishnets and a whit singlet that was cut in the middle with a four-leaf clover on your left boob.
Let's also mention the leprechaun hat you sported with your hair in two plaits.
You saw another co-worker walk in to start their shift when they stopped and looked at you "that's what we're wearing tonight?" she asked with a smirk "at least it's better than Halloween" you shrugged before making sure you had a pen and paper in your bum bag.
You don't usually work weekends but you had a week off volleyball and your best friend Morgan asked if you could somehow be out of the dorm so she could spend time with her boyfriend, you agreed and now you were hear reading the recipe for a 'lucky charm' cocktail that was only on for the night.
It was a busier night than usual, boys from your school coming in to hang out, some of them noticed you but didn't comment, others were too drunk to notice.
It wasn't until 10 that someone started some trouble.
"Hey little lady" a mans voice popped up from behind you as you rolled your eyes but turned around with a fake smile, he looked about 50 "what can I get you sir" you said "Can I get you" he smirked and you had to stop yourself from laughing "unfortunately us workers aren't up for sale, can I offer you something else," you said, pointing at the menu
You had been through this many times before.
"what about some money would that change your mind?"
"She said no you fucking pervert!" a voice called out to him, a voice that you had become familiar with.
"Is that so, cause she was smiling at me-"
"It's called service with a smile, not an invitation to get into my pants" you cut him off "now fuck off before I call security" you said before you looked at Jessie who was to busy looking at you already.
"You fucking lesbians always think you have control over us men" the man grumbled and you laughed "Josh!" you yelled out to your security man who walked over.
"Is there a problem?" he asked and you watched the man cowardly walk away as you pointed at Jessie to join you at the other side of the bar.
"Wow," she stated "What?" you asked "I'm not sure what's hotter right now that outfit or how you shut that fucker up" She smiled.
"How'd you know I was working?" you asked as you dried beer bottles, "Morgan told me" "Of course she did" you laughed "You glad I'm here?" Jessie asked you as you blushed "I think the way I'm seeing you stare at my ass whenever I turn around gives me the impression that you're very happy to be here"
"I will say I am enjoying the view" she said with a smirk.
A customer came in and you excused yourself to take his order as Jessie watched you from her seat, her grip on her glass tightning when she saw his stare on you.
When you returned you looked at Jessie "Hey your knuckles are white, I don't want to clean a broken glass tonight" you joked as her grip loosened "do all the customers look at you like that?" Jessie asked with a stern face.
"Jealousy is not a good look on you Fleming" you teased "Ha Ha" she fake laughed "What time do you finish?" she asked "An hour but I have a designated 'toilet break' in about 15 minutes," you said and her eyes brightened.
"So I can get you alone in a bathroom whilst you are in that outfit?" Jessie smiled like the cherished cat as you took away her drink "Not with your breath smelling like beer"
"that wasn't a no"
"You are distracting me at my work" you told her and she looked proud "Do I distract you y/n" she whispered going closer to you which made your cheeks redden.
"Y/n!" your boss's voice called out "Yeah" you replied "Toilet break Kenz will take over," he said before disappearing into his office again.
You placed your bum bag down behind the counter before walking past the bar and looking back at Jessie "you coming?" you asked with a small smirk and the soccer player scrambled off her seat to follow you.
When you walked back into the changing room you showed Jessie your little wardrobe "This is hot" she admitted as she looked at some of the outfits "You should see valentines day" you snorted at yourself as you watched her scavenge for it.
"Jessie" you called out to her as she just nodded her head, looking through your work clothes "Jessie" you called again as you sat on the couch behind the curtain "what?" she asked looking down at you.
She couldn't help her eyes for going straight to your cleavage as you looked up at her "Are you going to kiss me or what?"
"Oh fuck yeah I'm going to kiss you" Jessie whispered out to herself before joining you on the couch and grabbing your waist to sit on top of her.
Your bare legs rubbing against her jeans as her hands found a comfortable place on your ass is what made her smile "I knew coming here would be a great idea" she smiled "I'm in heaven" she joked as you looked behind you "wait" you told her as you got up
"Nooooo, don't stop heaven"
"I'm just closing the curtain so nobody see's us"
"let them see" Jessie shrugged "so they can know what's going to be mine"
"I think a few more dates until that happens Fleming," you said as you closed the curtain "but I do like your forwardness "Yeah?" Jessie questioned with a smirk and you couldn't help but fold at her words "Oh yeah, I'm free real estate at the moment until proven otherwise" you teased.
This made something in Jessies stomach turn "come here" she ordered as you sat back down on her lap "free real estate huh?" she questioned and you nodded, You felt her grasp on your ass tighter, leaving marks before looking at you and kissing you.
It didn't start slowly like it did at the end of your first date, no this time it was harsher and you loved it, from seeing Jessie so jealous from one look of a guy you wanted to test the waters.
And test it you did as you felt one of Jessie's hands pull you closer to her and create friction which you moaned quitely at giving Jessie dominance at the kiss "Do it again" she ordered before sloppily kissing down your neck "What again?" you asked and she rocked your body up and down her again, creating more friction.
You did as she said and grinded against her without her help as her nails dug into your ass with her denim grinding against your thin layers you couldn't help your quiet moans from coming out your mouth.
"Just like that" Jessie said as she nibbled at your neck, you reached your head back at the action as yo found yourself riding on the girls jeans quicker as you grew hotter and hotter.
"Jessie" you breathed out into her ear "Yeah baby" she says "Touch me" you mutter "Touch you where?" she asked and you buried your neck into her shoulder "down there" you mumbled
"be more specific baby" she teased you as you groaned, she gripped your ass so tight that you couldn't move anymore, you couldn't stand it, you wanted her.
"fuck Jessie" you muttered "What was that?" she asked as she gave you another hint of friction "Touch my pussy Jessie" you told her which she smiled at
"Only cause you asked so nicely" she smirked and you wished you had the power to humble her a bit, but right now you liked it as she placed you down on the couch and spread your legs apart for you.
You held eye contact the entire time as she lowered onto her knee's "you sure?" she asked and you nodded. You didn't even care that you were at your workplace any more, you just wanted Jessie.
You still held eye contact as she rolled your shorts down only to reveal you wore no panties which she raised her brows at "I don't like having undie line" you defended yourself as you watched Jessie try and figure out what to do with your fishnets, with no thought she ripped them from the middle and out, giving her easy access.
You felt the cool air hit you as you rolled your head back "Patience" Jessie laughed before leaning up and kissing you again but she kissed from your lips to your stomach and now a soft kiss to your clit that made a moan escape your lips, she smiled at your reaction before licking your folds slowly
"I know you said patience Jessie but we don't have a lot of time" you reminded her as she smiled at you "Okay"
You gripped onto the edge of the couch in pleasure before she entered a finger inside of you whilst licking at your clit "Oh fuck me" you muttered out as you felt Jessie smile against your clit as she added a second finger.
You felt yourself growing closer and closer as Jessie sped up "Jessie" you moaned out as you reached out your hand to grab her pony tail. She felt you clench around her fingers as she lifted her head up "you gonna cum?" she asked as you nodded
"I'm gonna cum Jessie" you moaned as continued to somehow go faster "Then cum for me" she ordered as you rolled your head back and let go, Jessie slowed down as she let you ride out your high before taking her fingers out and sucking them herself and then pointing them to you "suck them," she said before you did.
"kiss me" you told the soccer girl who came up to you and pulled you in by your chin to kiss her, you could taste yourself on her lips which you loved.
"Y/n toilet break over!" Kenzie yelled out from the door "yep be there in a sec just getting changed!" you answered back as you and Jessie tried not to laugh "If that was ten seconds earlier she would've heard you moaning out my name, did I make you feel good?" she asked and you nodded, grabbing your shorts from the floor.
"You wait here till my shift ends and I'll make you feel good too" you promised her with a kiss on the lips "I'll be waiting" Jessie smiled as she watched you open the curtain and walk out the room, Jessie quickly slapping your ass as you walked by.
"Jessie!"
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Alright my friend, what about a smutty blurb with Steve that is totally not related to your writer's block at all? 👀
You're frustrated with work. Something not going the way you want it to. You're huffy. You're at your desk, the kitchen counter, heck you're outside by the pool trying to work on it.
Steve's tried the sweet, baby come relax, he's tried making you drinks. Feeding you snacks. You're like nah, Steve, I'm going to sit here and huff, nothing is going to work.
His penis. His penis is gonna work. Take it out on Stevie, he doesn't mind. In fact, he'd love it if you got a little mean, a little more vocal for a change.
- @superblysubpar 💛
TAYLOR WHAT THE FUCK IM FINE
18+
You’d been sitting in front of your paperwork for hours. Books surrounded you, mostly unopened, sheets of paper showing nothing more than scored out sentences and scribbles in the margins, hearts and clouds that turned into frowny faces and raindrops.
There was a coffee cup, still full, untouched as was your flask of water, the bowl of strawberries Steve had placed on your desk after you’d turned down his offer of lunch. And the last three times he’d asked you about dinner, about settling down for the night, you’d grunted and grumbled your disagreement, gaze never straying from your work.
“Honey, c’mon,” Steve tried again, the clock on the wall above you ticking towards eleven o’clock. You’d been at it for almost nine hours. “You need to eat. There’s pasta waiting for you. How ‘bout you eat and I’ll run you a bath—”
“Steve,” you didn’t quite snap, but it was awfully close. Your voice was clipped and your boyfriends name didn’t come out nearly as half as sweet as you normally said it. “I need to finish this.”
“You’re not gonna get anything done when you’re in that mood,” Steve shot back, eyebrows raised when you huffed at him, barely turning away from your desk to look at him.
“I’m not in a mood.”
The boy laughed at that, a breathy noise that sounded more mean than amused. He walked into the room, abandoning his position against the doorframe that he’d been leaning on. You felt him before you heard him, nose brushing behind your ear before his hands came to rest on the desk in front on you, arms either side, caging you in.
“Yes, you are,” Steve replied calmly. His tone would’ve riled you if it hadn’t been for his lips on your neck, ghosting across the nape of it, his nose pushing your hair out of the way for himself. “Can’t lie, babe, you’re gettin’ a little bitchy—”
“Steve—”
“And I know you’re stressed, honey, but you’re not gonna get much done when you’re locking yourself away in here all day.” Another kiss, this time on your jaw, softened his words. “Take a break. It’ll be here tomorrow. Eat. Shower. Sleep.”
You groaned, pouting at the boy’s words. You knew he was right, you did. But the empty lines on your notebook mocked you. “I can’t,” you grunted, slipping back into your bad mood. Grey clouds seemed to gather in front of your vision. “I can’t do any of that until this is finished.”
Steve straightened back up then, his mouth leaving your skin. You weren’t sure if you were disappointed or pleased he was listening. But then his hand came back into your line of view and your book was snapped shut.
“Hey! Steve, I told you—“
Your chair was spun, Steve’s pretty face in front of yours as he leaned into your space, one hand take your cheeks between his fingers and thumb, squeezing a little. A warning.
“Do me instead.”
You blinked, jaw slackening, even in his grip. “What?”
The boy grinned. “You heard me, honey. Do me. Use me. C’mon, let me get you out of that pretty head of yours, huh? Make yourself feel better.”
That’s how you ended up bent over your desk, sleep shorts on the floor and your vest top pulled down so your tits could spill out, hard nipples grazing the tabletop. Your papers were spilled in every corner of the room, pens rolling to the carpet as Steve kept you pressed down with one large hand on the small of your back.
The other held your knee, hitching it up and pinning it to the desktop, keeping you spread open for him as he fucked himself into you, hips rolling slow until you cried out in frustration.
“What’s that?” He cooed, brow furrowed as he tried to hold himself back, his eyes dark and trained on your cunt, the way it glistened in the glow of the lamp, the way it stretched over the girth of his cock. “You gettin’ all quiet on me? C’mon, honey, you’ve been runnin’ that bitchy little mouth all day, you wanna ask for something?”
Steve reared back, a hand leaving your back to deliver a swift slap to your ass, a groan rumbling in his chest as he watched it jiggle for him. You whined, eyes fluttering closed as you tried to arch your back, doing your best to take more of his cock.
“Try asking a little sweeter, baby,” Steve smiled, panting as he kept himself snug inside of you. You were tight around him, teetering on the edge, just where he wanted you. “Ask me real sweet and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”
You gave in then, gasping, fingers curling around the edge of the table. “Harder! Jesus, Steve, fuck me harder, please… please baby.”
Steve grinned as he pulled almost all the way out of you, the tip of his cock nudging at your folds, revelling in the way your cunt tried to suck him back in, desperate.
“Shit, honey, see?” Steve slammed back into you before you had a chance to reply, groaning when you moaned high and loud, cheek pressed to the table. “Gonna give you whatever you want, just gotta be nice about it. You’re out of your bad mood now, aren’t you?”
You didn’t have it in you to argue back.
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I don't even know your name | joel miller x f!reader, 8,3k
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Summary: Your life changes dramatically and you turn to your best friend, Trish, for help. Trish is Joel’s cousin and little did you know when you accidentally met him at a bar, before Trish officially introduce you to one another. He’s emotionally unavailable -or so he thinks-, you have lost faith in people -or so you think. Basically, two idiots falling for each other, choosing to torture themselves.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, angst, Joel is 45ish, reader is 35 with two baby girls, allusions to smut, dirty thoughts, swearing, no physical description of the reader (but she will have long hair for smut purposes later on, hehe), no use of y/n, I’m not good at warning people, tell me what am I missing!
A/N: This has taken me forever, my life is a f’ing mess, but I didn’t want to abandon it. I’m splitting the story to parts, otherwise you’d been reading it until The Second Coming. 😅😏🫣 Thank you to anyone who’s taking the time to read this, I love you and I hope you enjoy it!😘
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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“Guys?” you drag out the word, “Do we really have to have the talk?” you try to avoid the conversation, knowing yourself and how you usually respond to these kind of questions, damn your spontaneity, shifting restlessly into the couch. Joel’s presence, sitting across the room on the comfy armchair, near the lit fireplace, isn’t helping in the slightest. He looks too invested in your point of view, but you already expected that. You try to avoid his gaze for as long as you can.
“Yes! Get the conversation going, babe, don’t be shy!” a female voice comes from a different part of the house. Joel doesn’t respond, looking quite nonchalant, in an effort to not seem.. eager. But you know better.
“It’s not a matter of shyness, on the contrary, you know I’m in the habit of not holding my tongue, and that can often get me in trouble..”, you sigh, shaking your head.
I have a few ideas involving that tongue of your- Stop it. Joel suppresses his thoughts audibly, by clearing his throat. “How come?” he finally joins in. You love the sound of that word on his mouth. Shaping into a different meaning inside your mind every time he uses it, pumping all of your blood to all the right places. Four months into knowing him and you quickly came to realize if you let your guard down, you would be done for. And now was not the time. You had a million loose ends to work out.
“Oh, you know, people tend to get the wrong idea, assuming things about me. I wish I could shut me up sometimes.” Oh, the ways I could shut that pretty little mouth, darlin’. Get it together. She’s not good for you. Or maybe you’re not good enough for her., he’s looking away, focusing on Trish, his cousin and your dear friend, who rushes out of her kitchen holding your -God knows what round of- drinks, almost stumbling on the carpet, while Joel’s trying to clear his head.
“What’s the rush Trish, anything to get off your chest?” you ask, squinting at her in a shut-the-fuck-up way. She bursts into laughter before she can even begin to talk, not taking the hint. Or pretending not to. Definitely pretending. Menace. “You remember that time, where were we?” She’s clicking her fingers together in an effort to jog her own memory. “With that dude? Who thought you wanted to talk your way into fucking him? Like he needed any convincing whatsoev-”
“We’ve met a lot of dudes together Trish; you being the main reason we’ve met them in the first place.” you interrupt, rolling your eyes at your friend. Joel is raising an eyebrow, looking back and forth between you and her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific. Actually, don’t, you already embarrassed me enough!” you hold back a smile covering your face with one hand, as you pull your feet on the couch, bringing your knees to your chest in an effort to create a barrier between you and the space surrounding you, to feel some kind of protection around you.
Trish is looking so amused, she’s having a hard time concentrating. “I don’t remember nor the place or the dude, but you were defending, quite passionately I might add, womens’ equal right to one night stands and how we should have the same amount of pleasure as men without the guilt that comes with it; Joel you should see her, she almost raised the flag of revolution!” Where are you going with this Trish..?
“Did she, now..” Joel runs his eyes up and down, taking you all in, sipping his whiskey slowly, licking his bottom lip after he swallowed. Jesus, that neck.
You groan in frustration, “Here it comes. Another one who speculates. Ok, let me have it.”, you almost snap, observing the way he’s checking you out. But he knows better. There’s an intensity radiating out of him, you can almost feel the warmth of it on your skin and you let your mind wonder how he would feel like over you, under you or in any way he would choose to manhandle you. Manhandle? Where is this coming from?
“Hey, she’s the one who said ‘passionately’!” Joel raises his hands up in defense, his brows raised and knead together, clearly amused on the information he’s extracting so effortlessly. Trish takes her seat next to you to the couch, enjoying the moment more than she should, looking at the two of you.
“I’m not- I don’t- uuuuh, Trish why are you doing this to me?” you whine in exasperation, looking up to the ceiling, and rolling your eyes shut.
“Because maybe you should! Come on, live a little!”, she grumbles, grabbing your forearm, shaking you dramatically. Trish was actually living, more than a little, her life, full of experiences, lovers, you name it. Sometimes you wished you could live so carefree. She has been desperately trying to pour some of her carnal wisdom into you. For years. Now, given your emotional status, she believes it’s her best chance. So, she pushed.
“Should do what?” Joel interjects curiously.
Trish opens her mouth and spills it out before you can stop her, “Fuckarounds!” -her take on one night stands- “or at least something casual, since she insists that one flavor is better than a sea of delicacies.”, she winks dramatically in your direction.
“Yeah, no, that’s- that’s great, let’s bring Joel into this conversation” you sigh, rubbing your forehead and tilting your head down.
“Oh, I thought-” he looks genuinely confused at your reaction. At this point he’s confused about a lot of things.
“Yes! Exactly! Of course you thought! That’s what I meant before. Just because I can’t bring myself to do it, it doesn’t mean that it’s wrong, or that I’m judgmental of people that do it. Hell, sometimes I wish I was those people.. That’s what I was trying to explain to the dude-”
“You see?” she turns to Joel for backup, “quite the lawyer we have here! And the dude didn’t get the memo.”, she turns to you once more. You shake you head at her and you both laugh at the memory.
“She’s insufferable sometimes, but I’ll get her mind around, don’t you worry!”, she adds, taking her eyes from yours to Joel’s, smiling at the implication, almost like.. you’re spoken for?? What the fuck, Trish? Your face feels like it’s on fire and you’re pretty sure it’s showing, too. You can always blame it on the heat of the fireplace. Now it’s Joel’s turn to shift to his seat uncomfortably. He, thankfully, rises from his spot and let both of you know he’s heading to the kitchen for a refill.
“What the fuck are you doing?”, you hiss at her. “He’ll think I put you up to this.”
“Up to what?” Trish plays dumb, but failing monumentally.
“Dude, you can’t have your cousin think that I’m into him, it’s not right. I didn’t asked you to. Quit it.”, you whisper in despair.
“Love, seriously, you need to at least de-stress yourself.” Trish pressures on. “It’s been, what, six months since the divorce, four months in, leaving with me, I mean, that’s unacceptable.”
“Look, I’ll move, the first house I’ll find, I promise, I don’t want to overstay my welcome-”
“Hey, I’m talking about letting four perfectly good months fly away without getting any. Especially, when you have such a skilled babysitter. You're not taking advantage of me enough.” She moves her hands around her body, showing herself. “And I told you, you and the girls can stay here indefinitely. I fuckin’ mean it.”
“Well, less of the ‘f’ word in front of them, if you do!”, you tease. “Thank you, but I’ll find a place. I need to. I want to bring some kind of normalcy back into our lives. Their lives.”
“I know, baby. But seriously. You’re fucking 35. You act like your life is over. He’s not worth it.”
“We’ve been through that before Trish, it’s not about him, I just-” you exhale, shaking your head, “l don’t think there’s anyone out there for me, you know? I feel like I’m too old for any of this. Point me to the direction of one guy, just one, who would even consider to engage with a 35 year old divorced mother of two and I’ll take him, Scout’s honor.”
She opens her mouth to say something but reconsiders, trying to find the right words. She knows you have a point. “That’s why I insist for you to.. FUCK AROUND! No strings attached. How sweet of you to help me prove my point!!”, Trish exclaims triumphantly.
You pretend to be in deep thinking, finally concluding, “You know what, I’m done with men. Not worth the energy spent. Hey, maybe I’ll date you; we love each other, we practically live together, it’s a done deal!” You both laugh at the idea.
“Aaaaaw, I’m fluttered hot mama, but maybe you should give ‘em men a chance, before you flip the coin!”, she pushes on.
You really look at her now, trying to see her point of view. You were lonely, you were touch deprived, you longed for intimacy, but intimacy in your case meant sentiment. And sentiment comes form some kind of attachment. You wanted, you needed, hell, you craved to connect. “You know, you always insist on all that casual thing, but I’m in a place in life that.. what’s the point?”
“Um, the point of someone else giving you an orgasm?”, she deadpans.
“Oh God..”, you drug your hand down your face, feeling defeated. “Seriously? Because I’m pretty sure this coffee table here,” you point at it with your brows, “can find my bud easier than half the men out there.”, you blurt out in frustration. Joel coughs, choking on his whiskey. You both jolt from your seats on the couch at the sound, turning your heads, one in amusement and one in embarrassment, seeing Joel standing at the living room entrance, frozen in place. Neither of you heard him approaching. If you could hold your tongue for once, woman. Just once.
“So..” he drags the word out, “what about the other half?”, he shakes off the awkwardness of the moment and sly his way into the conversation. You both look at him with a dumbfounded expression on your faces.
“Joel, how long have you been standing there?” Trish wonders, raising one brow devilishly.
“Enough to know I was right to have been standing there as long as I have.” he smirks into his glass, swallowing another sip. You’re too mortified to register the question as non-rhetorical. You almost stop breathing, praying that would make you invisible, hoping he‘d somehow forget his question.
“So?”, Joel insists, looking at you through his lashes, crossing his legs and leaning against the doorframe that connects the living area with the kitchen.
“Excuse me?”, you manage to breathe out, feeling exposed.
Joel doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind you exactly what you pointed out, moments ago. “You said that half the men can’t find y-”, he pauses, inhaling sharply, imagining how good you would look, all naked and spread out under him, but hearing in his mind how intimate what he’s about to say sounds, he corrects himself. “Uh, a woman’s bud.” He moves his hands in the air in a generic motion. You feel so embarrassed, you think you might explode if your heart rate doesn’t drop down. “So, what about the other half of us?” his eyes are burning coals, piercing through you. You pick up the insinuation immediately. He knows his way around a woman’s body. Ok, thank you for the burning image of you eating me out, fingering me to death or rubbing me to completion, Joel. But where the fuck is he going with this? He knows by now that you’re candid like that and you’ll answer accordingly, so he presses all your buttons on purpose, he’s got to be. You devil, we had a fucking deal. You smile, accepting the challenge as you decide to answer him. Two can play that game.
“Oh, you mean the emotionally unavailable half?”
He certainly didn’t expect this response. His face drops suddenly, his jaw flexes; you are positive that a nerve has been touched. He looks embarrassed, like a child caught with his hand in the honey pot and you immediately feel sorry for him. You hate making people feel bad. Even if you’re right. Damn people pleaser.
Too forward? Too soon? Maybe both? You open your mouth to say something -anything- but your mind goes blank. He looks down at his half-empty glass and goes “Huh.”, before he empties the poison of his choice down his throat in one gulp. He calmly leaves the now empty glass on the coffee table, forming a one-sided kind of knowing smile on his face and he leaves the room quietly, leaving you feeling guilty.
You realize that you need to breathe at some point, so you take a sharp breath, after you hear the front door closing behind him.
“Well.. that went well.” Trish comments, looking at her nails.
You snap your head at her, feeling ready to explode. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“No, but it leaves you minus one penis.”, she deadpans.
“I’m not interes-“ her eyes move up to yours so quickly, staring at you in a don’t-bullshit-me way, that you don’t dare finish your sentence. “Even I would be interested if he wasn’t a relative.” she feels the need to exaggerate.
“He’s not what I’m looking for, Trish.”
“But he might be just what you need.” Damn, she’s on a roll tonight. “Is there something going on? I mean between the two of you.”
Panic rises fast inside of you like waves crushing on rocks. You think you can hear your heartbeat. “No, of course not.”
Trish gives you an investigative look, as if staring at you long enough would make you admit the truth she thinks she knows. “Are you sure?”
“Joel and I couldn’t be further apart, trust me.”
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BEFORE
He observes you sitting on the bar stool for a long time, almost memorizing your every curve and line. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He can’t even see your whole face, but something makes him stare. You stand out to him for some reason. Maybe it’s the intense antithesis against your surroundings. Still, while everyone moves. Sad, while everyone laughs. Quiet, while everyone yells into each others’ ears. Lonesome in a sea of people. Your gaze is soft and detached, like all the burden of the world is on your shoulders. Holding your beer for far too long, sipping slowly straight from the bottle, like you’re trying to prolong your stay at the bar, or maybe avoiding going back to where you came from. He’s standing up.
You’re sitting on the bar stool, looking absentmindedly at the bartender on the other side of the counter, moving around, serving drinks. And you’re just sitting there. Alone. Wondering how the hell did you come to this. You always thought it was kind of strange going out on your own. Never done it before. But here you are. Here you are.
It’s been a week since you left your whole life behind you, leaving everything you knew and hold dear, moving to your best friend’s house, temporarily. Until you figure out what you’re going to do. She insisted to babysit so you can go out and have fun. She was funny that way. Have fun. All you wanted was to just disconnect from the world. Not think of anything. Not worry about anyone. Not much of a choice when you are a parent though. Worrying is on top of your list when you have kids. Two little girls, two and a half years old and an almost six months old.
That’s what you did for the past couple of years. Giving birth and raising a baby girl. And then giving birth again to another one. Until your husband decided all of a sudden that he can’t do this anymore. You’ve become too cold, too distant, he felt under-appreciated, pushed away.
The fact that he was always gone, always working and not contributing the hours that he indeed was at home, the fact that you were practically all alone in this, was not taken into consideration.
Everything happened fairly quickly. In the course of four months you got separated, he didn’t even want to try to fix things. Not even for the sake of being able to say that you at least tried. And then other suspicions began to enter your mind-
“You really look like you need a drink.”, a deep voice distracts you from your thoughts. You would be almost thankful for the distraction, growing tired of thinking the same things over and over again, like a broken record, but your bad mood wins over this one. Without turning your head to look at the direction of the voice, you raise the hand holding your beer, motioning at it, in silence.
“Nuuuh, that’s practically water, darlin’.”, the man insists, leaning forward as he stands next to you, his body turned your way, his left foot crossing over his right, his elbow resting on the counter, holding his glass of whiskey. You still don’t turn to look at him and with all the patience that is left in you, you raise the bottle to your lips, taking a sip. “Nope, still beer.”, you answer and keep your gaze to the shelf with the drinks behind the bartender. God, you’re too old for this.
The stranger huffs a small laugh and pushes on. “At least lemme buy you a cold one. That one must taste like a piss by now.”
“Oh, you must have been watching me, then.”, you try to embarrass him in order to leave you alone.
“That, I have.” Oh, he’s got a pair.
“Well, don’t.” you snap and you finally turn to look at him.
Holy shit.
You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so beautiful. Someone, your kind of beautiful. Masculine and broad and dark but with a vibe of kindness and safety in his presence. He’s looking at you, patiently, with a hind of a smile on his lips, like he knew that you’d change your mind once you’d lay your eyes on him. You take a deep breath to compose yourself and start over. “Look, I’m sorry, you look like a decent guy, but I would just be a bad company.”
“You don’t have to apologize darlin’, you have every right to choose your company, or the lack of it for that matter. It’s ok.” he says and he’s starting to move away from you slowly like he’s going to leave you alone. And now he’s making you feel like an ass. Kill with kindness they say?
A thousand thoughts are crossing your mind, you haven’t done this for what it feels like ages, you’re out of your depth, you don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t even remember the woman behind the mother, he’s gorgeous, why the hell is he talking to you? Ok, you know what? You’re going to fucking enjoy yourself. Just make conversation, fool around, it’s not like you’re gonna see him ever again. What do you have to lose?
You exhale hard, rolling your eyes to yourself and you grab his wrist lightly to ask, “Beer offer still standing?” surprising your own self. Damn, he’s warm. Pleasantly warm. I-want-you-to-envelop-me-in-your-arms warm. He turns his head to you, his eyes drop to your hand holding his, then back to your lips and then to your eyes. He lingers for a second too long and then turns to the bartender to order. You reluctantly let go of his hand and smile coyly.
You stare at each other for a moment and you both smile, waiting for the other to initiate the conversation. “I swear I’m not trying to do small talk or throw a bunch of lines your way,” he begins playfully, “but, you don’t look like you’re from around here.”
You audibly laugh and you raise your brows in surprise. “That’s weird,” you reply scrunching your nose, “I thought that’s what people do when they’re talking to total strangers at bars.”
He snorts a laugh, fuck he’s handsome, nodding his head, “You’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?” he asks amused, looking at you through his lashes.
“Well, it’s either that, or you really want to get to know me for my striking personality” you answer, gaining more confidence by his reaction. It’s not like you’re gonna see him again, right?
He nods his head in amusement, “You didn’t answer my question, though.” he reminds you. You roll your eyes playfully before you tease him, “You’re right, I’m not from around here and technically that was an observation, not a question.”, you raise your cold beer pointing it his way, nodding your head in a silent thank you and then you drink from it.
He stops with his glass midair, brows raising, smirking at you. “Ok, fine, you want a real question, I’ll give ya one. Why do you look so damn sad?”, his head tilting to the side, his ear almost touching the shoulder of the arm he rests on the counter. His eyes are piercing holes in yours, making you feel vulnerable. “Uh, I-, I-, shit; that bad, huh? And there I was, thinking I was holding my own.” you mutter.
“Darlin’, someone like you, sitting on your own, not looking around to notice the number of eyes ogling you, lost in your own thoughts, doesn’t take much to figure it out..”
“Someone like me.. you mean troubled?”, you try to clarify, troubled being the only translation your mind could manage.
“I mean beautiful.”, the man delivers. Oh. His voice and his gaze determined and serious as he speaks, making you weak on the knees.
You give him a shy smile and deflect the compliment. “Most men don’t observe half of what you just said.”, you deadpan and as he opens his mouth to answer you, you add “but you’re not most men, are you?”
He’s really looking at you now, it feels like he’s savoring your details and he just smiles. A beautiful, honest, kind of sheepish smile. It fades away quickly though, his face going serious again. He keeps his eyes on you, hitting you with his perceptiveness. “What did the fucker do?” you hear him ask you, suddenly.
“Wha- How did you- what makes you think-“, you are genuinely shocked, losing your train of thought.
“Humor me.”, is all he gives you, in a low voice.
His question felt so to the point, that there was no reason for you to deny it or avoid it, so you look back to your beer, fearing to see the denigration in his eyes.
You take a deep breath and simply state, “He left me, two months after I had our second daughter.” You exhale. It feels odd to hear your own voice, to feel your tongue move in your mouth, saying those words. You haven’t talked about it enough, actually -at all, if you’re being completely honest and it feels like you talk about someone else. It’s like you’re out of your body looking at you.
And now you wait. You wait for the pity, the uncomfortable silence, the unavoidable retreat. But none of those things come. You turn to look at him and he’s standing there, looking pissed. His body stiffens, his gaze darkens and you’re pretty sure that glass of whiskey in his hand, doesn’t have much life in it. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ..” it’s all he mutters as he closes his eyes in frustration, rubbing his free hand over his face.
“So much for small talk, huh?”, you continue laughing, trying to relieve his tension. It doesn’t take, though. Why did he took it so personally? He opens his eyes again, looking at you seriously with a deep frown on his face.
You begin to feel uncomfortable, so you do what you always do best. Try to make everyone else comfortable. You start talking to fill the silence. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve made mistakes, I wasn’t always the best wife, I was tired, I felt helpless at times, especially when raising two little girls with such a small age difference all on my own, not that that’s an excuse-“ you stop talking as he’s raising his hand in front of you to interrupt.
“Are you seriously blaming yourself right now?”, he sounds frustrated and confused, borderline offended.
“Well I’m not saying that what he did was ideal, I’m just trying to explain how hard it is to be practically all alone with two kids and how much it takes from you, how the balance is changing between the couple-”
“Ideal? That’s an interesting choice of word.”, he observes once again. Nice, you didn’t think he would catch that.
“You can’t keep anyone in your life by force. I won’t. I can’t control his feelings. It was the way he handled things that pained me the most.”, you explain.
He’s staring at you like you’re a fucking puzzle.
You sigh and continue, taking a deep breath, feeling defeated already. How you could possibly explain and how he could possibly understand? “I know most men don’t get it; you can’t understand how difficult it is to be responsible for two little people, making every decision, every second of every day, it’s exhausting, it drains you-“
“I know..” he whispers, looking at his glass, nodding his head in understanding.
“No, you don’t..” you mutter, mostly to yourself, shaking your head. He’s examining you for a second, considering if he wants to elaborate. He does.
“Sweetheart, I’m a single parent from the moment my daughter was born. Trust me when I say I know.”, he explains softly. “I get it.” His voice feels like honey to your ears.
You snap your head in his direction, shocked at his admission. He sees the cogs turning in your head, the sorrow starting to appear in your eyes and he adds with a bitter smile, “No, she didn’t die, she just left.”
Your eyes widen, unable to imagine what could have led a mother to that decision. But you immediately stop yourself. You don’t have the whole picture and it’s none of your business. You don’t get to judge. All you can say is “Fuck. That must have been hard for you.”
There’s a shift in the air, like some invisible little string connected you somehow, each of you with their own story, finding an understanding in each other.
As the conversation progresses he can’t help but wonder how did he get to that point. He was looking for a good time, maybe a blowjob or quickie in the bar’s bathroom and he ended up talking to you about his life. His daughter, his struggles. Voluntarily. And it felt good, easy, natural.
You laugh softly, out of context, shaking your head and he wants to know why. “I just-” you think again before you speak, “when you approached me I wasn’t even sure I could do that.”
“Do what?”, he asks in confusion.
“Talk to you.”, you admit.
“How do you mean?”, his brows furrow and his head tilt on one side, the edges of his mouth turning slightly upward. Stop doing that. It’s sexy.
“You know, me, sitting in a bar, talking to a stranger, it felt like I haven’t done this in forever.” It feels oddly liberating talking to him, almost like a confession.
“And how does it feel now?” he wants to know, his voice soft but commanding.
“It feels good.”, you give it to him. He makes you feel good and you want him to know.
“Good girl.”, he responds, his voice low, keeping his gaze on you, wondering how you’ll react. Oh, boy. Well, your panties are ruined. You bite your bottom lip and play along. See where it gets you. He sees that. The longing starts to become apparent on your face, in the way your lips part, your breath becomes shorter and your body subconsciously reacts to him, because you turn around in your seat, facing him fully. You clench your thighs in an effort to relieve some pressure between your legs. He sees it all.
“Although it’s a shame I didn’t get to witness you do your thing.”, you let him wonder.
His brows are raised in question, “My thing?”, he looks intrigued more than he’d like to admit. Gotcha.
“Yeah, I burdened you with my shit and I missed the chance of you flirting with me.” Someone feels ballsy. You don’t recognize yourself right now, but who cares, right?
“What makes you think I wanted to flirt with you?” he questions, almost genuinely. Almost. You freeze for a second, feeling like an idiot, but then you see him wink at you behind his raised glass.
“Right,” you drag the word, “so, you really wanted to get to know me for my striking personality”, you smile back to him.
He laughs. Genuinely. Beautifully. “Do you want me to flirt with you?” he pushes you, testing the waters. But not really. He knows he has your full attention.
“Sure, you seem like you can handle yourself.”, you answer before you overthink it and freak out.
He chuckles softly and he leans to you, right next to your flushed face, looking behind your shoulder and then down at you, his lips brushing your ear, his sparse beard tickling your cheek, one hand still on the bar and the other moving at the back of your seat, caging you. His scent invades your space, making you feel lightheaded. “Baby, you have no idea.” Your whole body is vibrating with want.
He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.
He can see you; clearly than you can see yourself. He knows you now. He understands. He can see your path, the struggles, the challenges, the worries that lie ahead on your way. He walked that path. He bled that path. He navigates it with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.
He doesn’t want to take you in the bathroom anymore.
He wants to take care of you. To breathe pleasure into you, to give you all that he abandoned for his daughter’s sake, to make you feel wanted and loved. He wants you to know that you matter to someone. That he’s gonna take his time with you, savor you, taste every inch of your body, spread you out on his bed and make you scream his name, while you tremble under his touch, his mouth, his cock.
You don’t feel like a bathroom quickie anymore. He wants more. Even if it is just for one night. Just one night. Suddenly the thought becomes unpleasant.
You turn your head to his side and search for his eyes. He responds to your plea by looking back at you. Your lips are inches apart, nearly touching. You stare at his brown, chocolaty orbs, then his plush lips, slightly open and can’t help but imagine your tongue entering his mouth, penetrating them.
You take a deep breath, preparing yourself mentally. You want to feel him any way you can, right fucking now. You want his touch, his tongue, his cock but you’ll accept whatever he’s giving you.
Get up. Get up. Get up.
You want this. You got this. You slowly exhale through your nose and you nearly press your body against his chest to stand up. Your nose almost grazes his. You look at each other, both of you full of desire.
Full of promise.
He’s curious what you’re gonna do but he’s praying you won’t do what he expects you to. Not the bathroom, not the fuckin’ bathroom, he keeps chanting internally. Lemme take care of you. You put your palm on his chest lingering for a second, “Show me, then”, you whisper in his ear and you finally make it to the bathroom. That, took every ounce of courage you had in you. Goddamn.
As you enter inside, thankfully it’s empty, you look at yourself in the mirror. You try to comprehend who are you right now, what you’re about to do. You don’t even remember how it feels to have someone else giving you pleasure. To touch you. To make you-
You hear the door opening and closing, followed by the sound of the lock. He slowly walks to you, letting you study him, through his reflection on the mirror. Giving you time to change your mind. Please change your mind. He looks so good. So good that you have to turn around and face him.
His salt and pepper hair tousled but neat at the same time, his curls above his neck making you want to tug them. Hard.
His eyes are dark, full of hunger and desire. Your eyes fall at his parted lips and then to his chiseled jawline with his sparse hair for a beard. You wanna bite every inch of it. Hard.
His frame is imposing; tall, broad, his thick forearms bulging through his black shirt, his toned thighs strained by his dark jeans. And then you see his bulge. He looks big, considerably big.
“Like what you see?”, he smiles confidently, his low timbre making you realize that you’ve been staring.
You blush in embarrassment, looking down and biting your bottom lip. He enters your comfort zone now, his hand pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head upward to look at him. “No need to be shy, sweetheart; I like what I see, too.”, his thumb rests lightly on your bottom lip and presses down, to free it from under your teeth.
His other hand holds your waist drawing you close to his body, his erection touching your lower stomach. You let out a small sigh.
His scent is intoxicating. It’s a mix of his fainted cologne, the smoke of cigarettes lingering in the air, the alcohol on his breath and something unique. Something his entirely. His sweat absorbed by the fabric of his clothes. The more you inhale it the wetter you get. Saliva pools in your mouth, making you swallow hard.
You squirm in your place, squeezing your legs together. He notices. Of course he notices, like he did back at the bar. Reading between your words.
He caresses your ear with his lips, whispering, “It’s ok sweetheart, I'm gonna take good care of you.” He places one hand behind your head, gently bringing you closer to him. His other one rests on your back, slowly making his way down to your ass. You look at him, surrendered to his touch. Oddly, you feel safe.
“Fuck..” you breath out.
He smiles, a little full of himself, normally it would piss you off, but right now you don’t care. He ghosts his lips along yours and he softly kisses the edge of your mouth. He places kisses along your jawline and leaves an open-mouthed kiss between your ear and your jaw. Your body shakes with goosebumps, making your knees almost buckle, his hold on your ass tightens, keeping you in place.
You can’t think of anything right now and that’s exactly what you want. Not your soon-to-be ex-husband, not your messed up life, not even the poor attempt of an outfit you wore tonight out of boredom. Plain black jeans and a lingerie black shirt. Of course with a black lacy bra under it, you’re not that adventurous.
His mouth travels to the column of your neck licking it softly from top to bottom, biting gently where it meets with your shoulder. Your cunt clenches hard, pooling more of your arousal on your already-drenched underwear. His tongue is so warm and velvety, making your eyes roll in your head. Your hands- where are your hands? One on his toned shoulder and the other on his hair, tugging his curls.
You realize that he’s softer in his touch than you would imagine for a bathroom fuck. He moves so fluidly, expertly, you feel mesmerized and a tiny part of you inexperienced and self conscious.
“I- I haven’t done this before..” you feel the need to confess, worried that you’ll do something wrong.
“I thought you had two kids.” he raises his head, tilting it, while looking at you through his lashes and bites his cheek to hide his smirk.
You stare at him for a moment and then you both burst into laughter.
You shake your head in mocking disapproval and explain, “..not the deed, the- the one-time thing..” and you bite your lip in discomfort afraid of his reaction.
His eyes are searching yours and he finally asks, “Who says this is a one-time thing?”. Bold. Surely he’s messing with you. Your breath catches on your throat, that was the last reaction you would expect. You try to read his face but he gives you nothing. You can’t figure out if he meant that or was just teasing. He nudges your nose with his, relax, baby, he whispers and he resumes his kissing path down your neck and to your chest.
He’s taking his sweet time with you. He wants to get you out of this damn bathroom. He wants to fuckin’ wreck you and he can't do that here. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable either by proposing a different setting, in case this is indeed how you want it, so he does what he knows. He’s driving you crazy. He’s gonna make you beg him to get out of here. To take you somewhere else, more comfortable. Anywhere but here. Unless someone interrupts you, making you take this elsewhere. Either way works.
You’re both panting from desire, his head moving back against yours, your foreheads touching together. He grabs the sides of your head with both his hands, while yours move around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. He’s going to finally kiss you, your lips almost touching each other’s, breathing one another’s exhale.
A loud knock on the door startles you and you jump in place. “Come on, man! Are you done yet?” The stranger smiles against your lips, pleased with his plan. He’s so ready to take you out of here, worship you like you deserve.
But the spell is broken. You come back to your senses. You’re in a dirty bathroom. With a total stranger. A handsome, funny, sexy stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. What are you doing? This is not you. This is not how you do things. You have two kids back home waiting for you. You try to shake the thought out of your mind. You are a woman, too. You have needs. Needs that this man can meet with ease. No, there are people outside, waiting to use the bathroom. How are you gonna get out of here? Everyone will know what you’ve done. What are you doing?
The man detects your stiffness, the change in your breathing. You’re starting to hyperventilate. “Hey, hey, are you ok?”.
Your brain is overwhelmed, you don’t know how to respond. The knocking on the door gets louder now, more insistent.
“Give me a goddamn minute!”, the man shouts behind his back. His attention returns to you, full of concern, talking to you like all the time in the world is yours, like nothing else matters. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You wanna get out of here?”, his hands are still on the sides of your head, his eyes full of worry now.
“I- I need-” your breathing is getting harder and harder. “I’m sorry, I need to get out of here, I-” you push his hands away from your face.
He lets you, raising his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok darlin’, my truck is parked just outside, let me-”
“NO- No,” you don’t let him finish his thought, “I’ll leave on my own, I’m sorry, I can’t-” you just want to disappear, you know how you must sound and look but it’s out of your control.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that darlin’, I just wanna make sure you’re safe-”. But you’re not listening to what he’s saying to you, not really.
He wants to touch you again, hold you, make you feel safe. Protected. He wants you- no, needs you to know that it’s ok.
But he’s a stranger to you, so he resists the urge.
You walk away from him, unlock the door, open it forcefully and burst out of the bathroom, looking down. You don’t want to meet the eyes of the intruder outside the door. Any eye contact would make you feel vulnerable right now, exposed. With your head down you reach for your bag and jacket left on the stool you were sitting on, -what were you thinking, you could have been mugged- and you run to the exit door.
The man is right behind you, searching for you in the packed bar. You grab the handle, you open the door and you stand still for a moment turning your head to look at him one last time.
His eyes catch the door movement and his gaze locks with yours. His expression is sad and worried, not an ounce of anger or disapproval.
I don’t even know your name, you think with sadness.
He’s making a move to come after you but then you let yourself out of the bar. The stranger doesn’t have time but to whisper “I don’t even know your name..”
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ONE WEEK LATER
You’re looking yourself in the mirror while you’re getting ready for dinner. Trish wants to introduce you to her cousins; although you and her are best friends, you never got to meet them. Maybe because you both lived out of Texas, before. She came back not so long ago, you followed to get your life back. Now that you’re living with her, she wants the four of you to hang out. She says they’re great guys. Joel and Tommy. Whatever.
You’re looking harder in the mirror now, searching for any sign to indicate what happened a few days ago at that god’s forsaken bar was real. A bruise, a bite, a redness, anything. But there’s nothing. Like he didn’t want to leave a trace. Like he was a figment of your imagination.
Half of you wants to forget about him, half of you is hanging on tight on every little detail you can recall of that night.
Of him.
His deep voice, the warmth of his eyes, his smart smile, the way he put your body on fire with minimum touch. You wish he would have fucked you hard and fast against the sink, before you had time to overthink, before you became a coward, to leave you with something more to remember him by.
You still feel the burn between your legs every time you think about him. And as many times as you tried to extinguish this fire inside you, with your fingers, or your pillow, or your vibrator, it just. Isn’t. Enough.
Just- get him out of your head, you force your mind. You don’t even know his name. You spilled your guts to him, almost fucked him and you don’t even got his name. Who does that?
Well, he didn’t get your name either, but obviously that was not the same. He looked like he knew what he was doing and if he does it that often, at the end of the day what does another name matter?
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Joel is grabbing his wallet and cellphone off the console next to the door yelling to Tommy and Sarah, “Guys, you’re coming yet? We’re gonna be late, Trish is gonna be all over us, come on.”
Tommy and Sarah pause the movie they’re watching with an audible groan and emerge from the living room, putting their shoes on. “What is tonight about, again?” Tommy asks in boredom.
“Uh, not really sure, we’re gonna have dinner together and some lady friend of Trish is gonna be there, I think she’s letting her stay with her for a while.” Joel mutters.
“Oh, a lady friend,” Tommy insists, winking his eye to Sarah and she rolls her eyes to him. “Is she hot or what?”.
Joel glares at Tommy “Don’t know, don’t care Tommy, I think she’s got kids or something. Take the toolbox to the truck to fix the bathroom cabinet since we’re going.”
Tommy looks disappointed “Damn, not my cup of tea, then.”
“You and me both.” Joel sighs through his teeth. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
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You hear the doorbell ring and you check on the girls before you make your way downstairs. They’re asleep on their beds. You can finally relax. You hear Trish calling you, “Hey, babe, they’re here!” As you go down the stairs you see a handsome man with dark curls entering the hallway along with a young woman in her twenties.
“Heeeey, you’re here!!” Trish sounds so exited. “Hey cousin, it’s been a while!” Tommy responds, hugging her with one arm around her waist. Sarah takes her turn hugging her aunt in silence and with a warm smile.
Then the three of them turn to the sound of your feet on the stairs. “And that’s my friend I was telling you about!” Trish introduces you by name and you approach Tommy and Sarah to handshake them.
When you look at Tommy’s face from a closer distance he seems familiar to you in a strange way, but you don’t give it any more thought. He looks like someone who likes what he sees, judging by the flirty smile he gives you. “Hi, darlin’, nice to meet you!”, is his first response to you. You smile politely “ You, too!”
You turn your attention to the young lady then, Tommy’s eyes still linger a little too long for your liking. Not because he’s not easy on the eyes, far from it. You’re simply not ready for that. And you proved that to yourself last week. You let the most handsome stranger you’ve ever met, slip through your fingers. You didn’t even got his name.
Idiot.
Jesus Christ, not now, let him go, focus. “Hello Sarah, I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to put a face to the stories!”.
Sarah laughs, glaring at Trish “I bet the stories are really funny! I only hope my aunt exposed herself, too, in the process!”
You give Sarah a one-sided smirk, looking at her conspiratorially, “Well, you know Trish, she’s never holding back!”, you all laugh vividly.
You already feel more relaxed, Tommy and Sarah seem so nice, easy going, it will be great to make new friends. Trish was right for wanting you to meet them so soon after you arrived here.
It brings an air of normalcy, it feels like, although slowly and fucking painfully, your life takes an actual.. shape. You’re here. You exist. You are being seen as a living human being. You are talked to, admired, cared for, building a circle of people in your life, each one with their own place and role in your heart. And that means you’re trying. You’re not giving up, you’re moving forward, for you, for your children most importantly. These thoughts create a warmth inside you, a sense of hope that everything’s going to be ok.
And then it happens.
His voice is the first thing you register as he makes his presence known. “Goddamnit Tommy, I asked you for one thing before we leave the house. One.”, he addresses his brother from a distance. “Of course I have to remember everything myself.”, he mutters to himself, shaking his head disapprovingly.
The hair on the back of your neck is rising. You could recognize his voice among thousands. But that couldn’t be right. It can’t be. There is no way the voice will match the face. So, you turn your head to the entrance.
First, you see his boots going up the stairs of the porch, next your eyes land on his lower and then upper body, fit thighs, covered in dark jeans, thin waist hugged by a black belt, broad torso clothed in a black t-shirt and a green flannel. You don’t consciously recognize what -or who- you see yet, but your heartbeat spikes and your breathing becomes quicker.
You look further up, his head is tilted down, he’s trying to put his car keys in his front jean pocket, the salt and pepper curls looking oddly familiar.
And then he raises his head.
It’s instant.
Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches on your throat, your mouth goes dry, you stomach clenches, your body feels on fire. Even your fingertips feel numb. Your mind floods you with memories of him.
His scent, his touch, the need he awakened inside you. His gaze locks with yours, like that night, stopping him in his tracks, right before the entrance of the house, both of you unable to look anywhere else. He keeps staring at your face, fearing that if he so much as roams his eyes to the rest of you, you’ll disappear.
You can’t quite read his expression, he looks- well he looks hot- but apart from that, he seems surprised, disturbed, almost.. pained?
Somewhere from behind you, you hear “Uuuuh, and this sunshine, is my brother, Joel.”
Joel.
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252 notes · View notes
finnickyy · 9 months
Text
I went on a rant on my IG story a few weeks ago and just wanted to share it here cuz i went in depth and got a bit too passionate
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transcript after cut
i fucking love mha
like its honestly my favorite show right now
is it perfect? fuck no
you have to be dumb as shit to think this show is perfect
there are so many things wrong with it omfg
but thats not what i wanna get into
what i wanna get into is the fandom and it portrayal of erasermic
EraserMic is probably one of the best things to come out of the show
Its literally the story of the two characters grieving the loss of a close friend and never really healing from it. BUT FUCKING NO
THATS NOT WHAT THE FUCKING FANDOM WANT TO FOCUS ON
THEY WANNA FOCUS ON FUCKINH "dadzawa and mamamic"
FUCKING SHUT UP
THEY REDUCE THESE COMPLEX AND INTERESTING CHARACTERS INTO CARICATURES AND OVER EXAGGERATIONS OF ONE ASPECT OF THEYRE PERSONALITY
AIZAWA
bros legit a dude that would sacrifice everything for the sake of other people
his self destructive behaviors are stated multiple time in the show and in vigilantes
he does not view himself as something that is important
he views himself as simply a tool for the betterment of other people
thats why hes a teacher
he literally doesnt own any personal items
all he has in his fucking apartment is his sleeping bag
he doesn't allow himself to get sentimental
after oboros death he became closed off and didn't allow himself to work though what happened
the only thing he focused was training
even to the point of ignoring his physical needs
he doesn't let himself get attached
he doesn't even open when mic tries to reach out to him
BUT FUCKING NOO ALL THE FANDOM WANTS TO FOCUS IN IS FUCKING DADZAWA
LIKE LET IT GO
YES DUDES A GOOD TEACHER
BUT HES NOT JUST THERE TO BE TIRED BITCH
WHY DO THEY FIXATE SO MUCH THE FUCKING TIREDNESS???
LIKE I GET "hahahaha funny trait" GET NEW MATERIAL OMFG
MIC
mic is so interesting to me cuz if the fact that "Present Mic" is simply just a persona
Mic is this outgoing loud person
Hes bombastic and enthusiastic
hes the fun guy
hes the guy that people go to when they want to chill and have a laugh
Yamada Hizashi is quiet and observant
He was the first person to suggest that there was a traitor in UA
He is the one that takes care of aizawa when hes drunk (i love the fact thats literally canon omfg)
Hes the one people see but dont notice
Present Mic is literally a Caricature of what he wants to be for people - easy and outgoing
THEY ALWAYS MAKE HIM THE PAPAMIC SHIT THAT I SEE OVER AND FUCKING OVER AGAIN
IT PISSES ME OFF SO FUCKIG. MUCH OMFG
One thing i saw someone point out is how you can tell when he is hizashi and when he is mic
When hes Hizashi - his eyes are visible
When hes Mic - all you can see are his glasses
Hizashi doesn't cope with the death of Oboro either. He never focuses on himself
He is always focused on what Aizawa feels. Which is why this shit is favorite
Its the fucking dysfunctionality of it
Hizashi never deal with his shit he just states whats happened.(ex. when midnight died - he just simply stated the obvious without actually confronting the subject at hand)
He is always focused on the others
(Hence, why he never told aizawa that they were actually going for his quirk instead of Oboro)
This is why they both work so well and dont at the same time.
They both use the same ideaology (putting other infront of you no matter what)
but using different methods
for aizawa its focusing on bettering himself to use himself as a tool to improve others
for mic its not focusing on yourself at all and putting all his attention onto others
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wonbons · 7 months
Text
Special Session ▪︎ s.es
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pairings: tattooartist!eunseok x fem!reader
genre: smut, slight enemies to lovers mdni
summary: eunseok gets horny while tattooing you.
warnings: degradation kink, dirty talks, brat tamer, size kink if you squint, harsh words, needles, masochist, nipple play, fingering
also posted on ao3!
notes: my first smut, please give me some advice! also, please let me know if i missed any warnings. enjoyyyy!
this one's for melody @wontonstaro
You don’t even know why you love suffering like this. Laying on the bed, while Eunseok, your forever favorite tattoo artist is doing his job. This time, it’s your stomach.
“You’re indeed a masochist, Y/N.” Eunseok commented.
“Oh, shut up. If I’m a masochist, then what are you? Must be a sadist in disguise.” You try to bear the pain. Hand palming your forehead while you bite your bottom lip.
Eunseok looks so tense since your session start. You don’t bother to ask though, he is so hot when he’s serious like this.
You feel the needle hits your sensitive spot on your tummy, it hurts like hell. You arched your back in response, grunting, and covering your mouth with your hand, your other hand is holding the chair’s armrest.
Eunseok swore he’s never been this hard before. The view of you arching your back… and your fucked up face…
If he wasn’t insane before, he is already insane now.
However, he needs to be professional. He tries so hard to finish the masterpiece on your skin.
“Oh my God.” You moan to your hand. Making it even harder for Eunseok now, but you know what?
He survived until the end! Eunseok will definitely gave himself a pat in the head later.
“Done, silly.” He bandaged your tattoo with a clear tape. “You know what to do and not do.”
“The pain felt nice.” You joke around while observing Eunseok. He’s sweating in his black tank top and grey sweatpants. Giving you the best view of his body line. You really wonder why is he sweating, though… the air conditioner is cold enough for you, why would he be visibly sweating like that?
Not that you complain, again, no one can’t deny that Eunseok is one of the hottest tattoo artists in town. Your friends barely get an appointment spot, but since you know him since he’s still a small business, you always manage to book an appointment with him.
“So, you really are a masochist.” Eunseok scoffed.
“Chill out, Mr. Sadistic Night.” You check yourself out in the mirror in his studio.
“Not the Diabolik Lovers references, please.” Eunseok laughed and stood behind you. “Do you like my work?”
You gulped to the fact that Eunseok is towering you. Why does he look ten times hotter? Why do you lowkey hope that he hugs your waist and maybe place his head on the crook of your ne—
“I won’t pay if I don’t.” You snapped yourself back to reality.
“Is that a threat?”
“If you think so.” You turn around to face him. “Do you have another client today?” You almost want to disappear after you said that. Why would you even ask that as if you’re going to have him if he doesn’t have another client coming out?
“I’m actually closed at this hour, dumbass. I made an exception for you.” He pinched your nose lightly.
“Oh, right! It’s twelve thirty now.” You checked the clock in his studio and grin. “I better be going.”
“It’s late, though. Do you want to stay the night?” Eunseok tries to check if he’s not the only one who feels this way.
You raised an eyebrow and took a step forward. Making your body so close to him now that you could feel his bulge down there. The bulge that you’ve noticed since the beginning of your session.
“Stay the night? With you?” You asked so softly while looking at his eye, his lips, and to his other eye.
Oh, you’re so wrong for using that method to him.
The next thing you know is that you are in his bedroom, eating each other’s face now. You’re laying down on his bed, hands pushing down his nape so you could kiss him deeper. The kiss is so passionate and aggressive. You grab his hair, making him groans in your kiss. His hand is traveling underneath your white tank top, squishing your breast slowly, and then pinch your nipple so lightly.
You moan from the pleasure, Eunseok took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You try to win the fight, but he is so much more dominant that you give up your tongue and just whine.
Eunseok pulls himself from the kiss, now he uses both hands to play with your breasts. “Do you want this?” He continues to tease your nipple with his thumb.
You can’t give a proper response since your head is spinning from the pleasure alone. You nod while try to hold back your moans.
“I need your words, baby…” Eunseok smirks at your already fucked up face.
“Oh, shut up. You know that we want to fuck each other.” You glare at him.
“Is that so?” Eunseok lets out a chuckle. “Don’t blame me if I lose my self-control towards you.”
“I don’t ca—fuck!” You can feel his tongue circling your nipple, gently sucking, and sometimes nibbling it with his teeth. You let out a little moan and arch your back in response.
“Do you have any idea of how hot you look when you arch your back earlier in our session?” He stares down at you and you try to stare back. His eyes look different than usual, this time they’re more… narrow? And dark?
You couldn’t even answer his question, you’re busy admiring his handsome face. God really took His time when he sculpted Eunseok.
“You’re walking in with that silly see-through jacket and white tank top…” His voice is one pitch lower too now. “You have no idea of the power you have on me.”
“Is that why you always look bothered during our sessions?” You smirked, acting so brave.
“You have no idea of how many times I imagine this moment to happen, Y/N.”
“Then cherish it, Eunseok. Fuck me like what you always been imagining all these times.”
That’s it.
That’s all he needs to set off the animal in him.
Eunseok went back to your breasts and aggressively sucks the nipple. You finally let out a real moan this time. The one that Eunseok wanted.
He took his top first. Then he’s taking off yours and get back to his original position where his body is between your legs. That makes his job a lot easier in term of sliding your shorts down.
Eunseok plays with your clothed cunt. He massages the sides slowly while looking at your face, waiting for any reaction.
“Stop teasing, please.” You shut your eyes and unconsciously raise your hips.
“Aww... Do you want me that bad, baby?” He slides your panties down. You can feel he’s staring at you since your faces are so close.
He starts to finger your cunt and tries to find your g-spot while stroking your clit too. Now your hips are uncontrollable. Eunseok is enjoying the view very much, he looks so proud of himself.
The worst part is he found the spot. That fast.
“Eunseok—nghh!” You can’t hold your voice now. The pleasure is too much.
“That’s right, say my name.” Eunseok chuckled. While you suffer to even open your eyes. “You look so pretty when you’re all fucked up like this. And from my fingers only? Tsk, tsk, tsk… baby, you’re so needy.”
“Shut u-up.” Your voice is trembling. You feel like you almost reach your climax, but Eunseok stop.
You whine and gave him your puppy eyes.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I want you to cum with me.” Eunseok finally opens his sweatpants. You would be lying if you say you’re not surprised of his size. He’s a lot bigger than you thought.
“Enjoying the view?”
“Ugh, I hate you so much.” You scoffed.
Eunseok pulls out a condom from his pocket, slide it into his cock, and get back to his position again.
This time, he doesn’t put your legs on his waist. He put them on his shoulders instead.
“Are you ready?” He asked while holding your chin softly.
“Yes.” You answered.
“Beg for it, then.” He’s testing your patience.
“Just fuck me already, goddamn it!” You’re impatient about this.
“Oh, looks like someone got a serious attitude problem.” Eunseok holds both of your hand down above your head with just one hand. “Let’s see where that attitude of yours will bring you, baby.”
You clench over nothing just from his mean threats.
He slides his cock in. Even if he’s mean, he gave you some time to adjust, he stays still. Waiting for you to—
“Oh, what a coward. Fuck me senseless alread—”
He pounds so hard and fast into your already dripping cunt. You were surprised by his action. You manage moan his name between the unformed words you try to say.
“Aww… my baby is crying already?” Eunseok mocks you. “How does it feel to be fucked so senseless?”
You whine and moan in response, “Euns—ahh! N-nghh…” Unable to form any word, your brain is full of Eunseok’s name and this high feeling.
“Look at you, you can’t even say any word properly... Looks like I fuck you so damn good that you can’t even remember anything...” He caresses your jaw with his free hand. “Come on, do it again.”
“Eunseok…” You say between your breaths.
“Louder.” Eunseok pounds harder and you can feel him so deep inside you. Stroking every right spot inside of your pussy.
Eunseok almost die to the sight of him deep inside your pussy like this. This is truly a dream come true for him.
“Mmm-ahh—Eunseok!” You’re so helpless. You can’t grab his hair. You can’t kiss him. You can’t talk back.
“That’s right, baby.” His pounds are animalistic now. Eunseok is also chasing his high, his breathe is starting to sound heavy. “Cum with me, baby.”
You’re a moaning mess. All these pleasures make your mind foggy. You could feel your climax is building up.
“Eunseok… nghh, Eunseok…” Your breath is panting. Your body trembles. “Eunseok!”
“Aangh, Y/N!” He reached his high at the same time with you.
Eunseok pulls out and walk into the bathroom, finding a towel and damp it in warm water. He came back and clean you up gently.
“Did I get too rough—”
“No, shut up. It was my best sex ever.” You admitted shyly.
“So, you really like it rough, huh?” He giggled.
“Stop.” You try to throw a pillow at him, but he dodged it.
“You’re really a freak in bed, Y/N. Degradations got you clenching over nothing, that’s cra—”
“I’m not paying you.”
Eunseok burst out a laugh. “You paid, though.”
You gave him a confused look. “Fuck you mean I paid?”
“You got me sex drunk earlier, it was more than enough.” Eunseok explained. He’s done cleaning you up.
“What a weirdo.”
“Do you like me, Y/N?” He asked so suddenly while snuggling up to you now.
“What kind of question is that?”
“Can’t you just answer?”
“Why do you think I’ve been so loyal to you since day one?” You questioned him back.
He gasped. “You’re a cheater?”
“Even to my hair salon.”
“Oh my!” Eunseok’s reaction makes you laugh now.
“Well, then let’s make this serious, yes or oui?” Eunseok breaths in the crook of your neck.
“Beg for it, then.” You make him taste his own medicine.
“Oh, you’re so mean, Y/N!”
© wonbons, 20231026
172 notes · View notes
gooppoo · 1 year
Note
Can u do another dads mean bsf for Jake sully x reader? :)
yes! pt 2 comin' right up ;)
Part 1
Daddy's best friend: Part 2.
Requests Closed!!
mdni.
warnings: age gap, use of "daddy," p in v, pussy spanking, creampie, nicknames
Those words. He said them so effortlessly. Knowing he had said them before in a much different context had opened a peculiar Pandora's box in your mind, revealing a confusing, yet thrilling disgust you had for Jake.
"Let's see what we're working with."
He detached his busy lips from your chest and settled before your knees. Here, he placed both his aged palms on your joints and slowly spread apart your limbs, an egotistical gaze studying your body. Once your legs were separated, he did away with your loincloth and beheld you. In that same instant, his pupils inflated, and a glimmer of primal yearning reflected his dark eyes. A twinge of fear rippled down your spine, then another sensation rippled up your spine when cool air passed by your steamy cunt. Instinctually, you wanted to snap your legs shut to preserve heat, but Jake wouldn't accept any part of that. Fear once again shot through your body when his dark eyes darted to your meek expression.
"Let me tell you how this is gonna work. You're going to take what I give to you, and don't even think about fighting against it, because you're not gonna win." A crocodile grin crawled along his lips, and his frozen fingers swept some hair from your pretty, terrified face, "You can do that, can't cha?"
If doing what he asked meant him finally paying attention to your clit and stuffing you full, then you'd do anything.
"Yes, yes I can." You squeaked, letting your doe-ish eyes speak for themselves.
"Outstanding." Jake smiled, malicious intent laced in all aspects of his being.
With his hands back on the task as hand, and caressing your thighs as a snail-like pace, he stated, "Mm, let's get started."
In anticipation, you squirmed and bit your lip to suppress your anxious squeal. For a better view you propped yourself on your elbows, carefully observing Jake's every move, watching his expression flicker from lust to malice. Just seeing him tease the idea of running his fingers through your slippery cunt was exhilarating in of itself.
Expertly, two digits started at your desirous entrance to gather your sap and spread its sweet warmth all the way to your obvious, starved clit. When the pads of his fingers finally dusted over your tender bud, an uncontrollable wail tore through your lips, like a wounded animal.
Jake's jaw clenched and his dangerous glare narrowed at you. Before you could process this daunting stare, a wet slap broke through the air, followed by a cry and a low whimper. Your cunt was stinging with longing and the remnants of Jake's stern palm.
"Keep your mouth shut. Don't want to hear that kind of shit again."
This was partially a lie, because Jake loved hearing you turn into a whining slut, but with you both in the open, the risk wasn't worth the reward.
Already defeated, you surrendered to the soil and cupped one palm over your mouth. When Jake's fingers returned to your clit, your pleasure was barely muffled, but your options right now were limited.
Jake's experience began to shine. When he was a human, all he had were his fingers and his tongue to really prove himself. Needless to say, he had plenty of practice pressing patterns into puffy, slick clits. Cute little circles and shapes that made women, much like you, scream into their hands and try to snap their legs shut because the rich bliss that left their center's dripping was fucking otherworldly.
There was a change in pace when Jake's fingers were replaced by his thumb and one of his fingers experimented at your restricting core. You were a fucking sopping mess below the hips, and that was made evident when Jake's long, middle finger slipped right into you, making your dopey eyes snap open and a gasp tighten in your throat.
"Hey-" he smacked your hot cunt "I said keep it down."
You doubled the force over your mouth and breathed laboriously through your nose. A gasp surprised your system again when Jake's finger slithered back into and his thumb pressed back onto your clit.
You noted the thoughtful dip of Jake's brow, growing dreadfully curious when he grumbled, "Fuck it." Another finger plunged into you, which meant you groaned against your layered palms.
"Like butter baby, like goddamn butter." Jake growled with a smile.
Within, Jake's fingers curled to prod at a textured section that made you yelp. It didn't hurt - quite the opposite - the combination of his circling thumb and curling digits would quickly make you a poor excuse for a being.
A scandalous, wet sloshing occupied both your ears and anything listening nearby. Jake's wrist worked at an impressive rate to hook his fingers against you and stimulate your nearly satisfied clit. He knew how intensive he needed to be in order to achieve a solid orgasm from you, so he wouldn't dare to let the burning in his forearm deprive you of that.
All the while, his other hand was working to keep your legs separated so your scent could keep wafting past his animalistic nose and flaring his pupils, sending more rushes of blood to his growing groin. The proud smile on his face was nothing less than icky, but it only fanned the flame quickly multiplying inside you. Your throat and lungs burned from sucking in inadequate breaths through your palms, while the space between your hips was spiking in temperature. It were as if someone poured warm honey all over your cunt, and it seeped into your nervous system, turning your brain into an incompetent mush.
"I know your close pretty girl, can feel ya," Jake chuckled dryly, wicked eyes locked on your expression, "c'mon, cum for daddy's best friend, fucking do it."
His last few words were grit through his teeth so he could focus his efforts on moving his fingers at an ungodly pace. There was the undistinguishable scent of sex already lingering in the air, paired with your breathlessness and Jake's hand producing ridiculously pornographic sounds with your cunt, there was no doubt you'd be cumming for daddy's best friend.
The build up was gradual, until it wasn't, because it was then an incomprehensible orgasm forcing your spine to contort into an upside down 'U' and your finger nails accumulate a thick layer of soil beneath them.
"Yeah, that's right. Fuckin' clamp down on me-" growled Jake, wishing he had multiple sets of eyes to watch all aspects of you succumb to Jake's wondrous fingers.
He knew to ease you down from your climax once your legs quivered and stopped resisting his efforts to keep them pried open. A few more strokes of his fingers and unintelligible shapes traced onto your clit, and you'd be back on Pandora - for the most part.
One of your arms had taken to the ground below, the other on your chest to check for your heart, because you swore it had broken through your ribs and right from your chest. All the sensations crashing into one another below your belly button were colliding with their own level of potency that it seemed to numb your senses. Yet, you knew if Jake were to return, you'd perk up and cry, every nerve lit aflame.
To combat this slightly, Jake worked his diligent fingers into your thighs and hips, feeling out all the tense muscles until they were just handfuls of delightful plush for him to grapple. It was time for him to feel this pussy for himself.
"How you holding up princess?" Sniffling, you hummed affirmatively, so faint he easily could've missed it, "Good, you handled that great. Now..." there was some unintelligible shuffling, "let's see if you can make daddy feel that good. How's that sound?"
At the beginning, that idea would've had you foaming at the mouth. As of now, it made you drool, because that's all you could really do, besides hum pitifully.
"Sounds good baby, you let me know if it's too much. 'Kay?" After that he mumbled a few more encouraging words to himself, and more provocative words to your nearly spent cunt.
You knew Jake's cock had to be unreasonably ginormous. Most definitely bigger than his two measly finger. But not so big that when it filled you to his base, there was a sizeable outline of him on your lower stomach with his tip brushing against your delicate cervix. In that moment, you wished you had more than grass to grasp onto, more than your lip to bite down on and sob against. The stretch was beyond anything you imagined, but easily slid into place on account of your proper prep and the orgasm that still left most of your senses out of commission.
"Mm...I don't know how much longer I can be nice to you doll, you're turning me into an animal, you know that?" Stupidly slow, he slid his inches out of you, sighing the entire way, "Tuh - you don't know anything. All you know is daddy's mean friend has his fuckin' dick stuffed up to your throat. And you love it." His hips snapped back against yours in one motion making you almost scream, "Oh yeah...you love it."
A few more times he repeated his motions; leisurely pulling out of you, only to piston his cock back into you in half a second. He did this until a natural pattern emerged that was more uniform and fluid. There was a rolling motion to his hips (something you didn't expect from someone his age) that had him crossing paths with your abused g-spot and coating his base with your slick. Most of your muscles were spent, so everything Jake had in store for you, was inarguable. Not that you'd want to challenge it anyway, because his strategy was unforgettable. There was no possible way anyone your age from the clan would stuff you this well, and make it this yummy.
Jake grunted, "Damnit - how are you this, fuckin', tight!" Where he swore and grumbled, you whined and moaned. It didn't take long for another variation of pornographic song to occupy your area.
The marine's hips slapped against your soft inner thighs as his cock was shoved into you. Though you were thoroughly warmed up to him, each stroke was still a small battle because of how constricting you were around him - so both of you sighed at his fill.
You assumed Jake was growing close when he shifted your waist up and inch or so with his authoritative hands, then propped his leg next to your waist. This allowed him to jut into you at a heightened angle, meaning your g-spot would continue to be teased - and a faster pace.
A faster pace indeed, "G-gonna cum!" Jake struggled to mutter, seconds after his jaw dropped and his groin began to falter.
There was a peculiar twitch and jerk of his cock within you, insanely followed by what you knew was his cum frosting your slippery walls. So much cum, in fact, you felt it spill out of your tightly stuffed cunt and down your backside. Jake's fingers had an unbreakable hold on your pelvis and was able to manage a few more thrusts before letting the rest of his seed dribble from you.
"Christ kid - got me makin' a mess." He panted, squeezing his eyes shut, and reopening them when he needed fresh air.
You wet your lips, fighting to keep yourself upright and catch of glimpse of Jake pull from your aching center. He didn't exaggerate when he said there was a mess. Between your cum mixed together and dripping and leaking and sticking to what felt like everywhere, you both had some cleaning up to do.
Jake slumped back on his heels and tried to tuck himself away, "Alright..." there was a new expression deep within his gaze, something that wasn't threatening or evil, "Should probably get this all taken care of."
Reassuringly he patted your thigh, then helped you upward. Hopefully this wouldn't be the last time Jake was teaching you to hunt.
-
Tag list:
@bonnibuckets @bestwlwmonster @erenjaegerswife @jake-sullys-whore @xx-bimbo-hoe-xx @aalyarastogi-blog @luvvsnae
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lewisyellowhelmet · 2 years
Text
feel its idle hum
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summary: lewis hamilton x reader
Lewis asks you to come to Barcelona. You tell him you’re not coming. He knows you are. 
content: 18+!!! alcohol. fwb dynamic. unresolved tension. unprotected s*x. general m/f s*x acts. 
word count: 4k+
If someone asked you to explain the game to them, you wouldn’t be able to. Couldn’t find the words. To explain the push and pull, the circling, who was hunting and who was being hunted. Don’t even know yourself, which category you fall into. Scared to hear the answer. When your friends ask about it, about him, you say it’s just fun, nothing serious, excuse yourself to the bathroom and find an email from Lewis with an attached plane ticket labelled with your name. 
I have work, you text.
And? He types back after six hours. Never on his phone. Knows it only aggravates you more. 
I can’t just fly around the world when you get bored. You write.
Why not?
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It’s not worth the argument when you know you’ll be boarding the flight anyway, as much as you promise yourself you won’t. The night before, he calls. You’re at work drinks in the city, holding the phone flat against your chest to muffle the sounds as you push out of the crowded bar and onto the street, dark and cold. 
  “What?” You say into the phone, alone now, one arm wrapped around yourself. You’ve left your jacket inside.
  “Hello to you, too,” Lewis says. His voice sounds low and tired, like it gets before he’s about to fall asleep. 
  “Yeah, hi,” you say, wanting to get back inside, watching a couple spill out of the door you’ve just exited, stumble towards a waiting Uber. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’ve been in public with Lewis, always with your head down, lagging behind his entourage so no one would think you actually belonged. Always careful to never leave the hotel at the same time, always different planes. Even on your phone contacts, he’s only L. No names. He’d invited you to an event, once, early on. Just the thought of it made you want to crawl under the covers and hide for a week. You’d laughed and told him to fuck off. He didn’t ask again, after that. 
  “Just checking you were all good for tomorrow. I organised a car to pick you up from the airport,” Lewis says. He yawns, the sound round and childish. You imagine the way his jaw would stretch, how the corners of his eyes would crinkle.
  “Cancel it, I’m not coming,” you say. If you were with him, he’d be rolling his eyes, reaching to poke you, or tickle. 
  “Yeah, yeah, see you tomorrow,” he says, and hangs up, the dial tone abrupt. 
You have to stand out in the night for a few more minutes, until your breathing steadies. Just from his initial lighting up your phone, the sound of his voice, your heartbeat is thrumming, too quick. Better than any cardio workout. Much later, when you get home, drunk and hungry, you kick the suitcase by your bed, packed carefully as soon as you’d opened the email with the plane ticket. 
--
It’s warmer, in Barcelona. Hazy sunshine and cobbled streets. Your hangover and travel has combined to form a tight headache behind your eyes that paracetamol won’t budge. You give your name to the hotel concierge and the lady nods knowingly, tapping away on the computer, chattering to her colleagues in Spanish. Your high school lessons are woefully inadequate. She smiles at you when she hands over the key card. 
  “Enjoy your stay,” she says. 
  “Gracias,” you reply, and wonder what Lewis had said to them. There’s a girl coming, maybe, give her a key, and perhaps, don’t ask any questions. Then he would’ve smiled at them, complimented their city, and they would’ve been so charmed they wouldn’t think to snitch. The elevator makes you nauseous, stale air, too many gold trimmings, light reflected endlessly in parallel mirrors. The top floor, of course. When was the last time he looked out a window and didn’t see a view?
The suite is empty. You squeeze your eyes shut for a long moment so you don’t feel the disappointment. Of course he hasn’t waited for you. There’s free practice, qualifying in a couple of hours. Have people been reporting back to him? The flight attendant in first class, the driver, the woman at the desk, all checkpoints on your journey, a trail for him to follow, letting him know as you pass each stop. You open your phone to text here, then delete it without sending, the cursor eating each letter. Instead, you get in the shower, the water so hot it stops you thinking. 
--
You’re in the living area of the suite when Lewis comes back. Tucked into the arm of the couch, wrapped in a robe and watching Netflix on your laptop. You don’t let yourself look up at the sound of the door, bite down on the way your mouth twitches to smile.
  “You know there’s a big television in front of you,” Lewis says, his voice close behind you. Your stomach flips over itself. On the plane, you’d let yourself count back. Twenty three days since you last saw him. Now he’s here, in the room with you, breathing the same air. You don’t turn your head.
  “I like watching it on my computer,” you say. His hand is big and warm, soothing through your hair. You lean back into the touch. 
  “How was the flight?”
  “Quick,” you say, and then, because you were raised properly, “Thank you.” 
His hand moving down to stroke over the line of your neck, fingers slipping under the terrycloth of the robe. 
  “You’re welcome,” Lewis says, his voice closer, and then his mouth where his fingers were, the nape of your neck, the joint of shoulder. 
  “How was quali,” you ask, even as you’re twisting around on the couch to face him, up on your knees, reaching to touch his arms, warm skin, dark lines of tattoos.
  “Yeah, good,” he says, looking at your mouth. 
  “Where?”
  “Guess.”
  “Pole,” you say, and he grins, and kisses you, tackling you back down onto the couch, the heavy weight of him on your body. You feel settled within your own skin for the first time in twenty three days. 
--
Lewis has a rule. No sex twenty four hours before a race. He’ll do whatever you ask, hands, mouth, but he won’t fuck you. Even now, the remnants of room service dinner discarded on the balcony, squirming naked on the bed and grasping at his shoulders as he works three fingers into you. 
  “Please,” you hear yourself saying, tears hot between your eyelashes, “I can’t - I need you. Please, Lewis.”
  His mouth is burning hot on your collarbone, your neck, the corner of your mouth. 
  “You know I can’t,” he says, and does sound slightly regretful, “Use my hand, it’s okay, I know you can do it.” 
  You must be hurting him, the way you’re clinging, nails dragging, one leg wrapped around his waist, Lewis still in his jeans, his cock trapped and hard against your hip. You feel empty and aching, even with his fingers, need him, need all of him. You feel overheated, like you’re going to melt into nothing if he doesn’t get in you. 
  “Please fuck me,” you beg, breathless, pushing your face into his shoulder, breathing him in, the musky smell of him. 
  “I am,” Lewis tells you, his fingers making wet sounds where they’re twisting inside you. You want to cry with frustration, settle for biting at the knot of muscle above his armpit. His bare chest against your cheek, his sweat, the practiced movement of his hand. He’ll make sure you come, but it won’t be the same. It feels overwhelmingly cruel. You know you’re out of your own head, helplessly trapped in your body, but you’re stupid with it, with him, begging and crying and trembling. 
 “Want your cock so bad,” you say, lips dragging over his mouth. He groans, the rumble of it in his chest, uses his weight to pin you down onto the mattress. 
  “Don’t,” Lewis says, “You can’t convince me.” 
  “I can,” you pant, forcing your eyes open to look up at him, “I can.” 
His eyes are dark and glazed, mouth red, cheeks flushed. He’s breathing hard, unsteady, gazing down at you in the tangle of sheets, naked and desperate. Lewis laughs, once, and for a second you think you have him, you’ve broken him, but then he’s crawling down the bed to get his head between your legs, his mouth hot and wet as he licks over you, into you. It’s a lost battle then, his fingers beckoning inside you and your clit between his lips and you’re coming, his name caught in your throat and hips arching off the bed. 
--
You wake in the night, all at once. He’s left one of the windows open, a curtain fluttering gently in the breeze. Moonlight shines in a cut off shaft across the bottom of the bed. You’re in one of Lewis’ big t-shirts for pyjamas. Had fallen asleep moving your finger rhythmically across the compass on his chest, north, east, south, west. You can feel the ghost of his hand in your hair, twisting strands as he tapped through graphs on his laptop, breaking patterns, corner speed. 
  Lewis is asleep, when you roll over. On his front, his head turned towards you on the pillow. Inky eyelashes, relaxed mouth. You want to touch the tip of his nose, but you would hate to wake him. He’s breathing slowly, steady, a familiar rhythm. He looks young, like this, in the shadows, dreaming. You think about how he knew you were coming even though you insisted you weren’t. How he’s known every time. Always a step in front of you. Maybe it’s the ten years he has on you, maybe he just knows you. It was easy, when it started. A bad idea, but a good story. Intoxicating, addictive. Now, you just feel tangled, every struggle only taking you deeper, the knots tightening. The more you try and remove yourself, the closer you get. 
  You shuffle closer to press your forehead against his shoulder, kiss the tattoo of the younger version of him held up by his Dad. In his sleep, Lewis sighs, and wraps his arm around you. 
--
The shower is on, when you wake up again, fresh sunshine. On the table, there’s an artful arrangement of pastries and fresh fruit and coffee. Flowers and champagne despite the early hour. You’re spooning out sugar for his coffee when Lewis emerges, still damp and a towel low around his waist. There’s a mark on his shoulder, where you bit down and begged. You touch your mouth. 
  “You snored,” he says, takes a slice of cantelope. 
  “I know,” you tell him, and take his hand to lick off the lingering fruit juice. When you look up at him, his jaw is tight, his eyes heavy. 
  “You’re very bad,” he tells you, as you give him his hand back. 
  “I know,” you repeat, smile, and sip your coffee. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the hard shape of him under the towel, the way he stands very still and takes several deep breaths before he comes to sit with you. 
  You talk idly, about nothing, about everything. Not about the race. He’d told you at the start, if I want to, I’ll bring it up. You try and stick to the rule. He likes to listen, nod and ask questions. Under the table, his ankle hooks around yours. 
  “You gonna come to the track?” Lewis asks, not looking at you. You shrug, fiddling with a teaspoon.
  “If you want me to I can.”
  “But do you want to.” 
You cut your eyes to the spreading city view behind him, the sky big and blue. Last time you’d sat in the motorhome like a lost child and then watched the race in the corner of the garage, in a Mercedes jacket so you’d be mistaken for staff. A lanyard around your neck that marked you as Guest. 
  “I know last time,” Lewis starts, but you interrupt. 
  “I just felt like. In the way.” 
  “You’re not in the way,” he says, and he sounds so serious you have to get up, walk out onto the balcony, into the fresh air and sunlight that blinds. You lean over the railing and watch the city move below you, cars and people and children. They’re all moving in the direction of the track. Inside, you hear Lewis clear his throat, the rattle of dishes being piled. When you go back inside, he’s dressing, not looking at you. 
  “I don’t know how late I’ll be back,” he says, and you perch on the very end of the bed to watch, sat on your hands so you don’t reach out. 
  “Okay,” you say. 
  “There’s a Picasso museum,” Lewis says, “and a big church, stuff like that. If you tell the concierge you want to go they’ll sort it out for you.” 
  “Okay,” you say again, feeling robotic. You feel like you’ve said the wrong thing, disturbed this thing between you, where you pretend to not care and trust that he believes you. Before he leaves, he kisses you hard on the mouth, holds your face in his hand like the most precious thing he’s ever touched. You’re breathless when he steps back, blinking heavy, confused. 
  “Yeah,” Lewis says, his face closed over, “Have a good day.” 
The hotel door locks loudly behind him.
--
In the end, you go to the Rambla, walk amongst the families and other tourists. Buy watermelon juice and window-shop. Half an hour before the race starts you sit in a park and call your best friend. 
  “I think I’m in trouble here,” you say. The line crackles as she sighs. 
  “Yeah,” she says, “Maybe.” 
You laugh, because there’s nothing else to say. The sun is high in the sky. You can hear the national anthem playing from people’s television screens tuned to the race. On the walk back you find a store selling vegan chocolate. You buy a block for Lewis, caramel. A thin, silk scarf for your mother. Then one for yourself because the woman is so nice. By the time you get back to the hotel, the race is half over. He’s ten seconds ahead of the rest of the pack. You watch it on the television set into the bathroom wall, soak in the tub, watch him accept the first place trophy on that big podium in front of all those people. Spray champagne and laugh and shake people’s hands. The commentators boast that there’s never been a driver like him. They show a graphic with a list of all the records he’s broken. There are various celebrities waiting to congratulate him. A slim, tall woman that he hugs. You let yourself sink under the bathwater. 
--
You go downstairs to the hotel bar so you don’t text and ask him to come back. The waiters are all handsome young men who flirt with you, recommend Spanish red wine that is bitter at the back of your throat. He finds you there, two glasses in and head swimming. 
  “Hey, darling,” he says, his hand low on your back, warm and solid. 
  “Hey, honey,” you say, mimic his intimacy. He laughs at your attempt, slides onto the stool opposite you. The waiter is bringing over a second wineglass, full of red liquid. Obviously you missed him going to the bar first. 
  “How was your day?” Lewis asks, his throat moving as he takes a sip. 
  “Good,” you say, swirling the wine in your glass, knowing if you look at him you won’t be able to speak anymore. He’s wearing just a white t-shirt, dark pants. Braided hair pulled into a pony tail. 
  “How was yours?” You ask.
He grins, shrugs, playing at not caring. You know he cares about driving so much it hurts. You hold up your finger, number one, for him. He grabs your hand in his, hiding it from the rest of the bar. 
  “Don’t be shy,” you say, “You should be destroying this city right now. Are there any nightclubs around?”
  Lewis is looking at your tangled hands and not at your face. He shakes his head. Takes another drink. The rings on his fingers shine in the light from the chandelier. Under the table, his hand finds your knee, up to your thigh. He laughs when you squeak. 
  “You wanna go upstairs?” Lewis asks, and you finally let yourself look at him. The shape of his mouth. Dark eyes, sweeping lashes. The line of his jaw. The tight stretch of white fabric around his shoulders. 
  “Yeah,” you say, a whisper, false start, then, louder, “Yes.” 
He smiles, like he’s going to eat you, devour you. All teeth, glinting eyes. Your body feels too heavy, your heartbeat low. 
  “Ready when you are,” Lewis says, and you try and control your movements as you slide off the stool, make a beeline for the elevator. You can feel him behind you, warm and close. Presses you forward into the wall when no one else gets into the lift. His wide chest up against your back, your cheek against the cold mirror. You couldn’t escape if you tried. His big hands on your hips, tilting you up and back so he can rub his cock against your ass. 
  “Thought about this the whole last lap,” he’s saying, as you pant a steam cloud onto the glass, “About what I was gonna do with you when I got back to the room. What I was gonna do first, where I would touch you.” 
  You moan without meaning too, the sound escaping you, your hands flat over his. He’s grinding his hips into you, chin hooked over your shoulder, talking quietly to you. 
  “You make me fucking crazy,” Lewis says, and then the doors are opening and he’s stepping away, the sudden loss of his warmth but his hand around your wrist, pulling you out of the elevator and down the corridor to the room. 
  “I couldn’t stop,” he says, pulling you out of your dress, big hot hands over your body, “thinking about it. Almost crashed the fucking car.” 
  You would laugh, normally, at him talking like this, assume he’s winding you up. But now you can’t breathe, pressed up against the wall, hands in his hair, mouthing over his jaw as your dress pools around your feet. 
  “What were you thinking about?” You ask, and then cry out as he picks you up, too easily, throws you over his shoulder, moves through the suite to the bedroom. Your hands tight in his t-shirt, wanting to scream but not feeling any thread of danger, know he won’t drop you. He’s careful even as he puts you down on the bed, eyes raking over your matching underwear, pulls his t-shirt over his head. The movement tugs a few braids out of his ponytail. You reach up to tuck them behind his ear, let him catch your hand to kiss your palm. 
  “Thinking about,” Lewis says, hasn’t even turned the lights on, standing over you as he gets out of his pants, “Fucking. Christ. Just thinking about you. Everything. How good it feels inside you. How much I wanna fuck you, like, all the time.” 
  Every part of you feels hot, feverish, your brain struggling to form a coherent thought. He’ll always talk to you, during it, but not like this, never like this. You pull at his arm until he collapses on top of you, kissing you messily as your bodies curve around each other, a perfect pair. 
  “Lewis,” you say, the only thing you can produce, clutching at him, sucking on his tongue, “Lewis.” 
   “Let me fuck you,” he says, clumsy as he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck, like he can’t settle, too full of energy, of want. 
  “Yeah,” you pant, legs already falling open, his thumbs hooking into your underwear, “Yeah, please.” 
  “You don’t even know,” he says, his mouth over your breast now, through the lace, damp and hot, teeth scraping. You feel overwhelmed with it as he pulls your underwear off, makes quick work of your bra so you’re naked and languid underneath him. Even just the bare touch of his skin on yours is enough to make you feel insane. 
  “I don’t know what,” you prompt, helping him out of his own underwear. And then it’s just you and him. The wet head of his cock bumping against the inside of your thigh. You feel like he could just press the tip inside you and you’d come, shaking and sobbing. He’s so hard already. 
  He’s pushing his head into your neck, biting at your pulse point, big hands pressing so good against your hips, your legs, moving you where he wants. 
  “You don’t know what you do to me,” Lewis says, and you feel the words move through you like a series of punches, overwhelming. But then he’s touching your clit, using your own slick to make his movements wet and easy. 
  “Do you have a condom,” he pants against your belly, licking the line of your hip, lifting his head to spit where his fingers are spreading you, watching the saliva drip down inside. You can’t speak from the feeling, everything fuzzy and amazing. 
  “No,” you say, “Sorry.” 
You prepare yourself for him to get up, go to the bathroom or his suitcase to find one, but Lewis doesn’t move. Instead, he goes very still, one finger tucked inside you. 
  “You don’t have one?” He asks. 
  “No,” you say, lifting your head up to look at him, propped on your elbows, “Don’t you?”
  “No, I. Fuck,” Lewis says, moving to kneel, hands braced either side of your body. He bows his head and swears again. Your heart pounds into your ribs, please, please, please.
  “I’m clean. I mean. We don’t have to. But,” you stumble, not looking at him. He lifts his head and his eyes are wide and pleading. Desperate. His cock stands hard and hot off his belly. 
  “Are you sure?” 
You laugh, gesture to where you’re spread out under him, wanton, “Yeah, look at me. I want to.” 
  The mattress dips as Lewis shifts, lifts you further up the bed to the middle. Is still touching you absentmindedly like he doesn’t even realise. Your tummy, your hips, between your legs. 
  “Yeah, I’m clean. I’ll pull out, I promise.” 
  “You better,” you threaten, but there’s no bite behind it, already reaching for him, dragging his mouth to yours. He folds into you, like he’s been waiting for a long time. 
  “Are you sure,” he asks once more, his mouth whispering over yours, the bare head of his cock pushing just into the opening of you. Every nerve in your body is pinpointed on the sensation, stupid with it. 
  “Yes,” you pant, your hands on his waist, pulling him in, “Please.” 
It’s biblical. The stretch of him, just him, nothing to separate. Somehow better than anything, ever. Lewis makes a hurting sound from his chest, his hands shaking around your body. He swears, over and over, the sound reverent. 
  “So good,” you say, eyes shut, face turned into his neck, “S’good, Lewis, oh, please.” 
He says your name, and it’s like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard it, soaring towards it. He starts to fuck into you, and your body curls around him, arms looped around his neck, legs around his waist. His hand around your face, thumb swooping over your eyes so you open them. 
  “Look at me,” he says, his nose bumping yours, “Wanna see you.” 
He pants with the exertion, the bed rocking with each thrust, and you gaze up at him, enraptured, kissing and breathing and crying and kissing again. You come with a shudder and tears in your waterline, your nails dug into the flexing muscle of his shoulder. Lewis holds your chin in his hand so he can watch, breathing in your air, licking into your mouth. 
  “God,” he says, as you float through it, feeling every heartbeat, “You’re so beautiful, you’re so. Oh, my god.” 
  He looks ethereal, God-like, something unknowable and yet intrinsically part of you. The shine of sweat at his hairline, the tangle of his necklaces in the hollow of your neck, the way your name sounds on his tongue. 
  “Come in me,” you say, suddenly, needing nothing more, wanting only that one thing, vicious from it. 
  “Baby,” he’s saying, even as he surges to the end, hips stuttering, “I can’t. I. Fuck.”
  “Please,” you say, legs tight around him, holding him in, hands in his hair, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. Everything is hot and close and perfect. 
  “I want you to, I wanna feel it,” you beg, and it’s like it kicks him into the next gear, finds more space inside you, the crash of his pelvis into yours, rough and hard and everything you’ve ever wanted ever. 
  “Gonna come in you, baby, gonna fucking fill you up,” Lewis says, a rasp, and then he’s doing it, hot and pulsing, fucking it into you, moaning and shivering, every muscle tight. Everything is white behind your eyes, a single, perfect moment. The weight of him on you and around you and in you. The harsh sound of his breath. The way he mumbles your name into your mouth as he relaxes, surrendering weight. You take it gratefully.
You lie like that for awhile. Sweat drying tacky on your skin, sticking you to him. Matching heartbeats, not speaking. Then Lewis moves suddenly, kneeling back on his heels and lifting one of your ankles onto his shoulder. Your hand on his chest, confused, but then you see his face, his teeth tucked into his bottom lip, liquid eyes watching where’s he’s dripping out of you. You want to tease him, call him a whore, but the synapses don’t connect, your body easy in his hands as he uses his fingers to push his come back into you, stuffs his cock back in, half hard already. 
  “Oh my god,” you whisper, fingers curled around the muscle of his shoulders, shocked by the sudden feeling, the way it feels so good already as you feel him thicken. 
  “This is so,” Lewis says, his hands on your hips, holding you open, “Amazing. Fuck. You feel so perfect.” 
  You can’t help it, laugh breathlessly, the slick sound of him using his own come to fuck you. 
  “I know,” you say, hand curling around his face, the rough of his beard, draw him down to your level to kiss him lazy and messy, “It’s so good.” 
  He looks down at you like he can’t compute, can’t understand it, gets his hand between your bodies to touch you, make you cry out. His body seems to be urged on by the sound, quickening. Lewis folds your legs up his chest, leans down over you, big arms braced either side of your head so you’re completely surrounded by him, held down. It makes you cry, tears hot on your cheeks, Lewis’ mouth kissing them away as you come again, shaking and blissed out. When you can see again, he’s close, hands tight in your hair as he grinds down into your body, mouth open, soft sounds that make your blood rush. His own eyes are wet when he comes. 
--
Later, he holds you in the curve of his body, your spine bent to his chest. You try and breathe at the same pace he does, like you can become part of him. You feel exposed, like you’ve dropped your cards and everyone’s seen them, knows what you’re holding. Remember your own voice begging him to come in you, knowing you would die if he didn’t. This isn’t part of the game. You’ve broken a rule. He’s seen something he shouldn’t have. 
  “Are you sleeping,” Lewis says into the dark, his voice a ghost. 
  “No,” you whisper, eyes wide open. 
  “Do you wanna fly back home with me?” He asks, voice quiet, unsure. His hand is warm on your chest. You breathe in and out at the same time he does. 
  “Yes.” 
2K notes · View notes
24carathoney · 5 months
Text
Crimson Ties | C.SC | Chapter 1
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Pairing: Vampire!Choi Seungcheol x Witch!FemReader
“Yes. Or in other words, you're his mate. The one he spends the rest of his life with.”
Summary: Follow Y/N as her world is flipped upside down when she discovers the truth about her bloodline.
Warnings: Fluff // Angst // Smut (later) // Violence // Blood // Character Death // Name Calling (Not the good kind) // Mingyu is a dick //
WC: 4.8k
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Tonight was a night that you just wanted to be left alone. But your friends demanded that you come to hang out with them since it's been weeks since you've seen them. With work being a pain in the ass and your best friend Joshua being busy with promotions left and right, living the life of an idol, you couldn't say no. You had reluctantly agreed as Joshua would be in town for a couple of weeks. There was so much for the two of you to catch up on. You reached the bar in no time, not noticing the presence lurking from a distance. Your boots tapped against the wood floors as you walked inside with a wide grin when Joshua and Lillian came into view. The younger bartender, Rayven, greeted you with a soft smile and you sent her a wave. You quickly ran into Joshua's arms as he lifted you off the ground. “I missed you guys!” You beamed as you hugged Lillian after. 
“Where the fuck have you been?” She laughed and you sighed. “Work has been so chaotic the past few weeks. Being promised promotions and then watching them give it to someone else.” 
“What?!”
“Y/N what happened to dropping that bullshit ass job? You said you were done.” Lillian said and you nodded. “I know. But money has been tight and the checks look really nice.” 
“The checks can be better if you apply some of that medical talent you have into a hospital or something.” She rolled her eyes at your reasoning and you opened your purse to fish out your phone. 
“Well most places require you to have a diploma. Something I don’t possess. So, that won't work out well.” You gave a shrug, turning to the man next to you. “What about you Josh? How’s the idol life treating you?”
“It’s a change that's for sure. But my group is amazing. They’ve been with me through thick and thin. We got a new mv coming out soon so there’s that.” He gave a small smile and both you and Lillian gasped.
“A comeback? I’ll have to tune in when it drops. Maybe upload a little reaction video.” You joked and the three of you laughed. As the two continued to speak on the topic, your eyes shifted to the window where a man stood with his hands in his pockets. Staring directly at you. You put your attention back into the conversation trying to shake the uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut. After a couple minutes you checked back to the window and he was gone. Letting out a sigh of relief you went back to searching for your phone.
“Shit. I left my phone in the car. I'll be right back.” You stepped out into the street walking across to your car. Swiping the device off the front seat you shut the door, feeling a chill as the wind blew past you. You came to a halt as a figure stood across the street from you with their hands in their pockets. 
“What you got going on tonight pretty?” He asked and you shrugged. “Hanging out with some friends. Been awhile.” You replied and he chuckled. “Why don't we have some fun first?” He had blocked your way inside and you shook your head nervously. “No thanks.” You went to push him but he grabbed your arm. His eyes flickered red and you immediately snatched your arm from his grasp and backed away to give you some space. You balled your hand into a fist as you cursed yourself for getting in this situation. Should've stayed inside with Lillian and Josh. The man in front of you gave a sinister grin as his sharp canines peaked through his lips. “It won't hurt to have dinner early.” You ducked as he rushed towards you with a snarl. He kicked your ankle from under you, laughing at your attempts to get away. Your adrenaline was rushing and you kicked him in his face, causing him to fall back with a grunt. You looked him dead in the eyes with anger in your form. You'd be damned if you died in an alleyway. You felt a light burn in the palm of your hands before seeing them turn purple. Your confusion had the man staring at you with wide eyes. “Spellcaster huh? Makes tonight's meal even better.” He brought his hand down and you covered your face, feeling a sharp sting run down your arm. His nails had sharpened and sliced your skin, letting your blood drip to the ground. He brought his hand up to his lips and licked the blood off his finger. You narrowed your eyes as he bared his teeth and you shuddered at how sharp they were. “What the fuck are you?” 
“Doesn't matter. You won't live long enough to find out.” Before he could lunge at you again two arms wrapped around his neck before a sickening crack was heard. His body fell to the ground with a thud and you gasped at the sight. Not knowing if you should run or stay and thank the man. You stood to your feet and noticed your savior had a familiar haircut. “Shua?” You muttered and Joshua turned to you with fear in his eyes. “Y/N…I…..” You had so many questions running through your mind as he held up his hands to show you that you were safe. “You're hurt.” You took a deep breath as his eyes shimmered a gold hue. 
“What was that? Who was that guy? You just killed him.” You asked, trying to catch your breath. Not missing the way Joshua never moved towards you. You hold your arm with a frown, staring down at the body on the ground as it slowly disintegrates right in front of you. “Joshua…”
“I can explain everything but I guarantee you won't believe me.” He quickly said and you scoffed. “A guy just tried to bite my head off. Try me.” Boy if you knew just how wrong you were. Joshua had just told you about how supernatural the world around you is. Witches, werewolves, shapeshifters. Oh and your best friend of 23 years is a vampire. You had to sit in one of the bar stools for a second as he explained everything while fixing the puff on your head. “I turned when I was 17. I see the world much differently than you do. My hearing is enhanced. I'm stronger than the average person. I don’t even have a steady heartbeat if I’m being honest.” He chuckled and you gave a small nod. 
“So you drink blood? From people?” you asked in a low voice and he shook his head. “Only once, years ago. Essentially to keep me alive at the time but I survive off of animal blood, even some human food. Wish I could say the same for my coven brothers though.” He gave a small smile but you could see the sadness behind his eyes. “How many of you are there?” He looked back up at you surprised you even asked and sat the gauze down. “Thirteen.” You nodded, rubbing your now bandaged arm. “Your idol group? I'm assuming.” He gave a short nod. 
“That man or whatever he was. He called me a spellcaster. What does that mean?” You asked and he frowned. 
“Spellcaster? Did you fight back?” Lillian suddenly asked and your brows furrowed. She didn’t sound as surprised as you were. What else are they not telling you?
“Not much. But I was just….angry instead of scared. My skin felt like it was on fire and the palms of my hands…..they turned dark. Black almost. Why?” Joshua gave a small nod as he held your hands. You shivered at how cold they were and he let out a long sigh as he let go.
“Your powers are starting to awaken. You may not remember but, your grandmother and great grandmother also had certain abilities. They did their best to keep you in the dark. Even in death.” He mumbled the last part leaving you in silence. “Come on. We can all hang out at Lillian’s place. Talk more about this.” He reached for your hand and before you could stop yourself, you snatched your hand away. Sadness swam in his dark orbs as you felt your heart rate quicken. “Y/N I know this is a lot but you have to believe me.” 
“How long have you known? About me I mean?” You asked and his gaze fell to the floor before answering in a small voice. “Since your grandmother died.” You let out a scoff as your eyes watered and Joshua was starting to panic a little.
“I do believe you, Shua. I just…..I need to walk.” You said quickly, grabbing your purse and dashing out the door. Joshua tried to go after you but Lillian grabbed his arm. “Let her go. She has to get her thoughts together. She'll be okay.” She retorted and Joshua swallowed his worries. 
You walked and walked. Not even realizing how far out you walked. You finally looked up to an empty street. “Fuck.” You wrapped your hands around your body as the leaves crunched under your feet. Scared. Confused. Alone. It was stupid of you to come out here by yourself. But you were overwhelmed with so many emotions, you didn't know what else to do. The distinct sound of a twig snapping nearby made you jump and you quickly scanned your surroundings. You saw no one but couldn't shake the feeling of someone watching you. You picked a direction and began walking before a voice cut through you like a hot knife. “It's dangerous out here for a girl like you.” You turned to see a man in a suit. His hand nestled in his pants pockets as he eyed you down. 
“A man like you shouldn't sneak up on people.” He chuckled at your response before leaning against a fence.
“Well you seemed to be tangled up in your own thoughts. Would've been rude to just tap you on your shoulder. Had you been paying attention, you would've heard me coming.” He stared at you as you bit the inside of your cheek. “You're pretty far out from home don't you think.” His words struck a nerve and you slowly backed away from him. Trying to give yourself some distance. 
“I'm quite capable of handling myself.” You said and he laughed. “You sure about that little one?” Something about the man made you uneasy as you fumbled with the bracelet in your pocket, that slowly got warmer. You turned to see a back road behind you and went to tell him you'd be on your way but when you looked back at him, he was gone. That was until a deep voice muttered in your ear. “Boo.” You jumped back as the man was now next to you with his jacket over his shoulder. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.” 
“How did you-”
“You're not that great at paying attention.” He smirked and you nearly missed the way his canines sharpened. Memories of his face began to rush to you as you thought about Joshua. You remember when he mentioned his coven brothers and the realization hit you like a freight train as the picture suddenly became clear. “I know you.” Your voice trembled as he raised an eyebrow with a grin. 
“Do you know me? Who am I?”
“You're Kim Mingyu. Part of that one group. Seventeen is it?” You asked, backing away. He threw his head back letting out a loud laugh. “Aww a fan. I'm touched.”
“Don't flatter yourself. Shouldn't you be at a dance practice or something?” You said with as much confidence you could muster up. He remained silent but had a smirk on his lips. Your heart felt as if it was about to beat out of your chest and you turned on your heels to run. He made no move to chase you but instead stood with his head back laughing at you. Before you knew it he was in front of you, grabbing hold of your wrist. He let go as if he had been burned and on instinct you forced him away, purple energy flowing to your palm. His body flew into a nearby house and you stood confused as you stared down at your hand. Fingers tingling from whatever the hell it was you just did. Breaking from your thoughts his gaze snapped to yours before you ran again. This time making it to a familiar street and turning to check if he followed. But there was no one. The wind blew your hair into your face and you stared off into the distance. His presence was gone. 
“Y/N! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” A voice called out and you turned to see Lillian and Joshua. You sighed as you made your way to them with your arms around your body. You planned to remain silent about your run in with Mingyu but Joshua already had his eyes set in the direction you just came from. You followed his gaze and saw the man you encountered. “Go inside. Lock the door and don’t let anyone in if it isn’t me.” Before you could ask questions he made his way down the street and Lillian dragged you into the house. Joshua held a scowl as Mingyu carelessly leaned against the light pole, dusting off his shirt. “What did you do?”
“Me? I didn't do anything. We were having a pleasant conversation. Then your little witch attacked me. Does Seungcheol hyung know you're hiding her?” He smirked and Joshsua balled his fist. “A vampire being friends with a witch is unheard of.” 
“I'm not hiding her. She didn't know anything about the supernatural. Barely even believed it. You showing up probably awakened her abilities she didn't even know she had.” Josh sneered and he shrugged. 
“She knows enough, Josh. She knows about us. But you know that.” Another voice cut in and the man snapped his head to see Seungkwan standing with his hands in his pockets. “He isn't going to let that slide. She could expose us.”
“She won't.”
“And how do you know?” Joshua froze at the sound of Jeonghan's icy voice before looking past Mingyu at the blonde. “She could open her mouth. Not saying people would believe her but still. If it was Seungcheol instead of Mingyu, your little witch would've been killed out there. But you know that. I have to do my duty as second in command to report this to him. He'll have her head.”
“She's no threat to us.” Joshua couldn't find the words to say as challenging Jeonghan would be suicide. “We'll see about that.” Jeonghan held a sadistic smirk that made Joshua's body run cold.
“See about what?” Another voice cut into the conversation and Joshua swore his vampire blood ran cold. He turned just as Seungcheol arrived with the rest of the coven and shut his eyes with a sigh. “What will we see about?” Everyone remained quiet and Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at his coven's silence. “I won't ask again.”
“Go ahead, tell him Joshua.” Joshua locked eyes with his coven leader and felt his heart drop to his stomach.
You’d been sitting there in silence for half an hour and you couldn’t help but think about Josh. Was he okay? Did he get hurt? What of Mingyu? The thoughts became unbearable and you stood to your feet, heading over to the window. Glancing out past the curtains into the empty street. There was nothing. No one. “He should've been back by now.” You muttered walking to the door as Lillian ran a hand through her hair. “Don't even think about it. We stay put like he said.” You turned to face her and noticed her mixing different spices she had in her cabinet. “How can you be cooking at a time like this?” 
“I'm not. I'm brewing a protection spell.” She answered and you frowned. “Spell? As in a witch spell?” 
“Y/N there's still so much you have to learn.” She started and you felt your eyes water. She gave a small sigh as she finished the concoction and hung it over the door. “You and I come from a long line of witches. As Joshua told you earlier, your great grandmother and grandmother were witches as well. Some excelled in spellcasting while others were able to master healing magic. You seem to have both as I noticed the burns immediately heal from your power. Which is extremely rare and with everyone keeping you in the dark, you never learned how to use them. Have you ever been able to lift something with a wave of your hand? Pushing things, pulling things? With your mind.” As she explained everything started to become clearer. You had always thought that it was your mind playing tricks on you. But now it all makes sense. Too much sense. “I'm going to enchant the house. You should get some rest. I do understand it's a lot to take in.”
“But Josh…” She held your shoulders as she led you to the couch. “I'll be on the lookout for him. Now go rest.” She gave your hair a small pat and you had tried your best to stay awake. Watching Lillian carry around a glass throughout the house before your eyes fluttered closed. 
Leaves crunched under your feet as you ran as fast as you could carry yourself. Everywhere you looked he was there. A man with dark hair and blood red eyes. His chuckle echoed through the forest surrounding you as you tried to catch your breath. But no matter how far you got he always seemed to be two steps ahead. You backed up into a body and turned to find him smirking down at you. He raised an eyebrow before his head shot out and wrapped around your throat. Leaning close to your ear you felt him smirk against your skin. “You should know little one, I love when they run.” 
You shot up off the couch covered in sweat, noticing you're still in Lillian’s house. She sat on the other couch with a dagger in her hand. She rushed to your side upon noticing your distraught breathing. “You're okay. It was just a dream.” She mumbled rubbing your arms. You brought your hand to your face with a sigh. “What time is it?” 
“11:30 I'm about to make breakfast. Joshua should be back tonight. Go wash up.” She said before you go up to head to the bathroom. You shut the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your brown eyes were puffy and your curls disheveled. But your wide eyed gaze went down to your neck. Where a dark bruise started to form along your skin. Right where his hand had been. You took a quick shower and walked past the kitchen. “I have to grab some things from home. I'll be back in a bit.” You closed the door before she could say anything else and made a dash down the empty sidewalk. Your mind was occupied with everything you've been told floating around like fish. Not even paying attention to the world around you. A hand pressed over your lips and you thrashed as you were dragged behind an abandoned house. The person let go and you scoffed, looking up at Joshua. 
“You can't just ask me to talk like a normal person?!” You shouted and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
“I was worried sick!” 
“I know. I know. Y/N there’s more you have to know. With you being a witch and all. I just needed to tell you to watch your back out here. There's more covens out there than just us.” He told you and you felt your stomach drop. “Once others get word of a witch in the area, you'll be a target. So you have to keep it a secret. No one but Lillian can know about…….” 
He paused his sentence and looked at you with sad eyes. “You need to get out of here.”
“Josh wha…”
“But we just got here. She shouldn't leave now.” You looked over Joshua's shoulder as four figures stood around the two of you. Lee Jihoon, Jeon Wonwoo, Kwon Soonyoung and Kim Mingyu. You recognized them as some of his group mates. Wonwoo placed a hand on the back of Joshua's neck causing him to fall to his knees with his eyes closed. “You've done enough.” A low voice said in his ear as he was pulled away from you before you could grab onto him. You found yourself rooted to the ground as the four of them had you surrounded. “You seem scared little dove. We don't bite.” 
“Hard.” Jihoon grinned as you felt a wall behind you. You had no choice but to fight. Again. You moved to defend yourself but Soonyoung was already behind you, Pinning your hands behind your back. You hissed in pain as his grip tightened the more you struggled. “Soonyoung is the fastest out of all of us. You won't even get a spell off with him here.” You brought your hand up to his wrist and squeezed, causing him to shout in pain as searing heat emitted from your palm. Mingyu took the chance to kick your leg from under you but you turned in time to deflect with your own kick. It won't do much damage but it will give you distance. Soonyoung dashed towards you and you pulled a hidden dagger from your boot, swinging in time to cut his cheek. He brought a hand up to wipe the cut as his eyes flickered a dark crimson color before rushing at you at full speed. You felt your fear spike and crouched a small barrier appearing before you. You forced Soonyoung away from you before the man relaxed into a carefree stance. You grew confused until his eyes locked behind you and Mingyu rubbed a hand under his chin. 
“You're in trouble now girl.” You suddenly felt a presence behind you and quickly threw up a barrier before a fist collided with the purple aura. The man immediately threw another punch without giving you time to recover, shattering the barrier before you and wrapping a hand around your throat. “Let go!” You pleaded but your words fell on deaf ears as you were lifted off your feet and closer to the man. Your vision blurred as he tossed you into the wall. You back stung as you coughed trying to catch your breath. Before you could react he grabbed a fist full of your hair, his fingers tangled in your curls while bearing his teeth at you. Your eyes clenched shut at the sting surging through your scalp. Mingyu chuckled at your struggle as you clawed at the hand in your hair. When your eyes shot open you were met with a dark crimson iris staring down at you. He lifted your head to catch your unfocused brown eyes and his grip loosened. You missed how his expression softened for a split second as he dropped you to the floor. You went into a coughing fit as the others watched on with confused stares. Jeonghan stood in the alleyway as he exchanged a knowing look with the woman next to him.
“Everyone back to the dorm, we’ll hunt tomorrow night.” Jeonghan said abruptly and all eyes flickered to his relaxed form. 
“Come on Jeonghan, she cut me.” Soonyoung whined but the blonde was not impressed.
“None of you were supposed to be out here in the first place. Do not make me repeat myself.” One by one they all walked past you in silence as Jeonghan approached his leader. “You too Seungcheol.” He looked down at you one last time before walking away with his head down. The mysterious woman reached a hand out to you and you reluctantly accepted her help. She nodded to the blonde before he too left the area, leaving the two of you alone. 
What the fuck was that? Why did he stop himself?
“Honesty I'm not quite sure.” She spoke as if she read your mind. “When it comes to the boys, Seungcheol isn't one to hesitate. He loves them as if they were his own and would do anything to keep them safe. That includes killing. Which brings up the million dollar question, why did he stop himself from killing you?” You stared up at her with confusion floating in your dark orbs trying to make sense of everything. “Anyway. I have a strong feeling they won't be bothering you anymore. But you should take Joshua's words into consideration. Watch your back out here.” With that she gave you a small smile as she turned her back and left the area, leaving you alone.
Back at the dorm Joshua felt all eyes on him. He had already tried to explain his story but Seungkwan and Mingyu were not having any of it. “She's a danger to all of us! We should've killed her when we had the chance.” Seungkwan’s words made Joshua wince and Mingyu laughed at his brother's anger.
“This is Joshua's fault. He should have never told her. I'll see to it that it's quick and painless.” Another voice spoke and Joshua looked over at Jun. “Like hell you will.” 
“After all this you're still protecting her? For what?” Wonwoo questioned and Joshua sighed. “She's my best friend. She has been there with me through thick and thin. I'm not going to hurt her because she knows the truth.” He spoke quickly before Soonyoung cut in once more. “If she betrays you then what? You're putting us all in jeopardy for someone who doesn't even know what she's capable of.” 
“What's the point when none of you are listening to me?” Joshua sighed and Mingyu stood to his feet. “Fuck what you have to say! I'm sick of you and your little --”
“ENOUGH.” Another voice boomed, silencing any debates and everyone turned to see Seungcheol taking a seat on a nearby stool suppressing his coughs. No one dared speak when their leader walked into the room. “This girl could potentially be a threat to us if she puts her mind to it. She could be dangerous. From here on out no one is going to go near her. Let the other covens deal with her. She lives out her life out there. We live out ours here.” Joshua froze as his coven leader's piercing eyes landed on him. “And I do mean no one. Unless any of you have an objection.”
To say you were on edge was the understatement of the century. You still have yet to see or hear from Joshua and it's been 3 days. Everyday you wake up in hopes that he would be downstairs while Lillian made breakfast. Running a hand through your hair you stalked downstairs with your mind made up not letting Lillian get her greeting out. “Hey how are….”
“I want to learn how to properly use my powers.” You said with slight determination as she sat down the bowl of biscuits on the table. “O-okay. I can teach you the basics but after breakfast. It won't do you any good on an empty stomach.” The next couple of hours weren't easy for you. You kept trying to lift random items Lillian placed in front of you with no luck. They would shake but never floated or moved. Lillian pointed her finger and gave you a slight shock every time you failed. “Ow! Would you stop that!”
“Not. Until. You. Get. It. Right.” After each word she sent another jolt through you and you clenched your jaw. “How do you think you'll help Joshua if you can't even do a simple exercise? Being one with the world of sorcery isn't for the weak Y/N.” You grew tired of her talking down on you and gave the space in front of you a forceful push out of pure frustration. The vase was thrown back into a tree, shattering into pieces upon impact and Lillian gave you a knowing smile. You stood in shock as you brought your hand to your face. “Is that all I can do?” 
“Most likely not. But other abilities manifest based on situations. The basics is all I can teach you.” You looked down at your feet and she sighed. “Meditation is the key. You'll learn to open your eyes in the world of the supernatural. But you have to open your mind first.” She said and you raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to talk in riddles?” The training went on for a couple more hours and the sun was beginning to set. You wiped sweat from your forehead and leaned against the tree. 
“This is only the beginning Y/N. What comes next won't be easy.”
“I know.”
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