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#even going so far as to be taken upstairs by one of the girls there but stopping it all before it even starts bc he really needs *her* and
daincrediblegg · 3 months
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Truly devastating to want to jump into an AU for your canon x oc/si ship when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your main fic for them yet 😪
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sweetbuckybarnes · 5 months
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Who is This? - Bucky x Reader
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!
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Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?
The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.
His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.
The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.
She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.
There she was.
His girl. His wife.
He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.
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Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.
She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.
"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.
Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."
"Like you don't do that every night."
Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.
"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.
"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"
He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.
She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.
She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).
"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."
Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.
"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"
Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.
Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.
"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.
"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.
Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.
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When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.
He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.
He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.
He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.
The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"
The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."
As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"
The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"
The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.
Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.
"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.
"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.
The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.
Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"
Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.
"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."
Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"
She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."
"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.
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The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.
Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.
Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.
"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.
"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.
Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"
Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."
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s4lv4tions · 6 months
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innocence and the art of losing it;
pairing; kamo choso x fem!reader (modern!au) wc; 1.1k cw; suggestive content, making out, post-makeout clarity, second hand embarrassment ? lol an; no thoughts just loserboy choso. a virgin who's never kissed anyone who literally hands his heart over the second u bat your eyelashes at him :3
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Choso kisses you once — drunk, high, more teeth than lips — in the wish-wash strobe lights of a college house party, and is thrust face-first into obsession.
It’s his first kiss. Yes, he's 22, and his first kiss is a sloppy, intoxicated mess, and he doesn't care. He’s covered in glitter from when someone had thrown a glitter-bomb at the wall above his head, sweating off his eyeliner and face paint, delirious enough to wonder whether his cup is still in his hand or not. But you’re real. Firm and sweet-smelling and voice husky when you bow your head towards him, just as drunk as he is but wearing it far better. Dark kohl lines your eyes, lashes big and dramatic. The kiss is messy and bitter with the lingering taste of vodka, but he presses himself further into it, cheeks hot and ears hotter.
He doesn’t really remember the rest of the night. He remembers the kiss, and your face, and the untrained, inelegant way his tongue had explored your mouth; he remembers how you’d patted his arm after and told him you were gonna go crash in the bath tub upstairs and try to sober up — extended an invitation to him, too — before you disappeared around the corner. It was an invitation he would’ve taken if not for the sudden tugging on his sleeve.
Mahito — grinning all sleazy at the smear of lipstick on Choso’s face — steadies a blacked-out Jogo against one bony shoulder. He whines something about not wanting to take care of him, and Jogo slurs something else (most likely about Hanami, who he'd never had the courage to ask out, and was now dating a "ripped lifeguard"). They’re annoying at best and assholes at worst, but (begrudgingly) Choso admits they’re his friends. He’s never been able to refuse a friend in need.
He mournfully leaves the party — and you, upstairs, lying in the empty bath with a warm blanket and open arms — to help Jogo regurgitate his guts in Choso's apartment. He sobers up pretty quickly between retches, only left with a passing headache and a deep lethargy; still, when Jogo and Mahito collapse on his pull out couch (fully dressed, might he add), he lays in bed, bloodshot-eyed and blushing. He doesn’t know how he found your Instagram — your name’s not even in your username — but he’s staring at your pretty face and scraping his tongue piercing against the back of his teeth. He shouldn’t be doing either of those things. He’s so fucking tired, but he can’t look away.
An OOTD. A coffee cup and a fancy looking pastry. You and your friends hugging each other at a party, grinning and glitter-eyed. Another of you on your own, at a Halloween party last year — because that’s how far he’s scrolled — dressed as Morticia Addams, dark and sultry and smiling all the while. His heart is thudding so hard in his chest he swears it’ll erupt and splatter over the ceiling.
Fuck. Fuck. It’s the alcohol pooling in his stomach, he’s sure — the alcohol rushing from his head to his, uh, smaller head. The faint synthetic taste of your lipstick and the smell of your perfume — sweet and dizzying, good enough to eat — they cloud his head in the same way those incessant clouds of vape and weed had earlier. He remembers how your long, pointed nails had scraped through his hair and brushed against his scalp, shivers rolling down the hunched length of his spine. The softness of your chest against his. You’d been so funny, made him feel so comfortable where he’d normally shut down and go silent. Fuck.
He scrolls further, fixated on every detail — who’s that man standing just beside you? Why is that girl’s hand so tight on your waist? You were part of the Art Society two years ago, he wonders if you’re not anymore. That same year you visited Vienna in the summer, snapping photos in front of the Hofburg in a dark summer dress. Your jewellery makes your eyes look even more sparkly than they are in real life. He’s about to scroll further, when—
❤️ You liked this post.
“No,” Choso mutters to himself, shooting up in bed. “No, no, no, no—”
He fumbles with his phone — drops it out of his hands and then scurries to pick it up again, dread settling over him like a threadbare blanket. Nope, his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. Shamefully, he unlikes the post and turns his screen off, pressing his palms into his eyes.
A post from two and a half years ago. 30 whole months. And he’d liked it accidentally. His stupid fucking thumbs — and it wasn’t like he could play it cool. Even with unliking it, you’ll see the notification. You’ll know that he was snooping. That he was thinking about you.
Fuck. He shouldn’t have drank so much. He shouldn’t have gone to that party in the first place, he had exams to study for and this wasn't the example he wanted to set for his brothers, but — if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have kissed you. And he’d liked it. A lot. He liked you.
Choso stares at his home screen — his brothers and him, all huddled up at one of the tables of their favourite restaurant, taken before he’d left for college. Big grins and glassy eyes and Choso steels himself. If this happened to one of his little brothers, he knows what he’d tell them — to not think too deeply on it, and that everyone makes mistakes. That it’s not the end of the world no matter how much it feels like it. He has to make mistakes so his brothers don't — and how can he preach emotional maturity if he can’t follow through on it himself? Especially over something as small as an Instagram like.
So Choso sets his phone aside and ignores the half-hard problem in his pants, shutting his eyes with a little more force than necessary. He’s going to sleep. He’ll be able to think — and have a cold, cold shower — in the morning. Everything will be fine. You probably won't even notice, who is he kidding. He's sure you get a gazillion likes every day — surely his will be lost in it all.
(Except the morning comes with an Instagram notification that pulls his heart into his throat.
[01:22] stxrgxrl: like what u see? :p
Fuck emotional maturity. Choso’s gonna be sick.)
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age-of-play-i-say · 2 months
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are you ever going to continue the middle and little series? not to pressure, just asking because i really enjoyed that first installment <3
Funny you should ask, I've been hanging onto 80% of this one for awhile, thinking it needed more editing but like here you go!
“Okay, is everyone ready for movie night? Still feeling good about the scene?” Daddy’s doing some last minute checks before headspace made that kind of thinking feel far away.
Baby nodded from her playpen and Little piped up from the couch, “yes, Daddy! Essited for watchin’ a big kid movie!” Daddy chuckled.
“Okay, well remember to double tap your watches to call me if things get too intense or you need my help, ahem, finishing up.” Daddy winked at Baby, who blushed, falling into headspace out of sheer embarrassment.
“Be good to our Baby, okay Little one? She’s still adjusting and she needs your sweetness and helping hands. Enjoy your movie nap together, I’ll be back in an hour.” Daddy flipped on the prepared DvD and strode upstairs, confident that his Little could handle this.
Onscreen appeared some of Baby and Little’s favorite characters, but they weren’t solving mysteries like usual. They were just talking so far, and pressing their faces together noisily.
Baby watched, wide-eyed, suckling her binkie and looking littler and littler in her crinkly diapey, surrounded by her plushies. One of the characters on screen took off his undies, still noisily kissing a girl onscreen. Baby’s sweet little face wrinkled, confusion passing over her pretty features. Little saw her eyes flit down to the man’s big grown-up stiffy and she went even pinker.
Little wanted to focus on the fun, grown-up playtime video on the screen, but that involved tearing his focus away from Baby, whose nipples hardened instantly when the kissing started. He wondered if Baby remembered their first kisses, around her comfort binkie, the same one she’s suckling now. He wondered how it might feel to kiss her like the girl on the screen.
Should I get nakey? Little wonders, shifting his hips closer and closer to the edge of the couch.
He looked Baby up and down, and saw her bottom lift and fall against the puppy pads lining her pen, bouncing subtly. Her eyes were glued to the screen, and Little was embarrassed to see the lollipop game he sometimes played with Daddy up there, the girl in the scene on her knees kissing and licking all over the guy’s big stiffy.
Little closed his eyes, feeling light-headed and falling deeper into headspace.
Soooo tingly, wan touchies. Big kid touchies.
Behind her paci, he heard Baby whine, just pouting. She’s so little, she barely knows about tingles, but it’s clear to Little that she’s getting all worked up and tingly. His heart aches for her, so confused, so little.
“Baby! You like da movie?” he palmed himself over his undies, making sure to grind up into it with a sweet, little moan when she tore her eyes away to look up at her Big Bubba Little.
Baby nodded, sucking her paci a little extra before spitting it out to hang on its lanyard, pressing her hand in the same spot Little did but over her big puffy diaper, “ye, like ‘im lots n lots,” Baby chirps, “but feelin all sticky in m’ diapey!” She tries to hump her hand, but just kind of air humped back and forth confusedly. She whines again, louder this time.
Bubba Little felt a curl of earnest affection burst in his heart. She needed his help.
“Bubba can help, lil Baby.” She looks up, teary-eyed, to see Little sliding off the couch. He came to the edge of Baby’s playpen and pointed at a big teddy bear in the corner.
“Grab your bear, get on your hands and knees, and tuck him ‘tween your legs under your diapey.” Little pressed his hand against the front of his pants again, watching her comply with his request.
“Put your binky back in, too, you don hafta talk at all, Bubba’ll tell you what to do.”
Baby whole face relaxed when she popped her paci back in her mouth, happy to be taken care of again. She settled in on top of her bear and looked up at the screen where the lollipop game was heating up.
She looked to her big brother for help, “what is-?” she managed before lapsing into another big-eyed silence. She bucked her hips like before, yelping when her sticky padding actually provided friction.
Her eyes returned to the screen, in awe of the feeling she could provoke with just her hips motion. She ground down again, her little face and shoulders relieved at the freedom from her own thoughts combined with being able to seek her own pleasure.
Little can't take his eyes off her. The man onscreen keeps making dirty noises, but Baby's humping and whimpering takes precedence.
“'s the tingles game, Baby, I play wit Daddy if ‘m good,” Little can't keep his hands off his winkie now, this naughty interaction searing his brain. Looking at the screen again, he suddenly wishes Baby would use her mouth to play the lollipop game on him. He can't ask their pure, pretty Baby to do anything so naughty.
His cheeks turn pink and he snatches his hand away from his stiffie, embarrassed. Daddy said to let Baby initiate play when she's ready. In fact, he’s under strict instructions not to get inside the playpen with her.
“Tin-goesth?” Baby murmurs around her binky, not tearing her eyes from the screen. She leans back on her haunches, putting more pressure on the bear and her privates, but it doesn't seem like enough for her. She ruts shamelessly into her bear, faster now, cheeks pink and eyes glassy.
Little watches for a bit before making a decision. He can't get in and help her, but he can show her what to do. Pulling down his pants, he blushes. He’s all stiff and tingly, and Baby will see it! He steels himself and pulls down his big boy undies, coming around the front of the playpen, winkie out.
What he sees makes his heart squeeze. Baby's tired herself out, humping hard and fast, getting nowhere but more tingly. She's laying on her bear, not even looking at the movie, twitching her hips while tears squeeze out of her eyes.
On seeing her Bubba come around her playpen, she jerks up, embarrassed and on edge.
“Ting-goess, hewp pwease?” She whimpers, scrambling on her knees to the bars of her playpen to grab her big Bubba's hand before seeing his stiffy poking out under his shirt.
She doesn't shy away from him, looking from his stiffy to the screen and then back to him.
“Ye, Baby, I help, I help!” She's asked, so he's finally allowed. He takes the hand she’d holding, reaches down and plunges it into her padding to find her tingly parts.
“‘S okay, Baby?” he whispers in her ear when she eeps in surprise.
“ye, ye, ye Bubba, need hewp tingoes ye” she chants, closing her eyes when he makes contact with her baby parts through all that slick, feeling her tiny winkie pulse.
“Nnnn, Bubba!” she spits her paci out, holding onto his arm. Just like Daddy showed him, he doesn't have to do much.
“Girl winkies are much smaller and more sensitive. Just make little circles, fast and soft. Let her decide the rest.” Daddy's coaching for the last week rings in Little’s ears.
She's rutting on his fingers now, hard and fast.
“Feels good, Baby? Bubba wan make you feel good.”
Baby nods without speaking, her sweet mouth open and her little nipples hard on his arm. Her hips jerk and his whole hand suddenly feels hot and wet as Baby hollers out,
“Bub-bahhh!” She puts both hands on his arm and swirls her hips one more time, shivering, sweet and happy.
He pulls his hand out, proud of his ability to help her make tingles. He stands back up and leans forward to check on her in her playpen. His stiffy jumps, slid between the bars.
Instead of slumped down, relaxing after tingles, Baby was back on her knees, so close it startles him. She looked up at him, pink lips puffy and open, eyes wide.
“tank you Bubba,” she whispers, her innocent blinking making his hand itch to do big kid touches on himself.
“Good job, Baby! Tingles feel good?” She moves in closer, her eyes slide over to the screen where different pairs of their favorite mystery gang are playing the lollipop game.
Her eyes take in his stiffy poking through the bars and she leans so close he can feel her breath on it as she murmurs
“Bubba need ting-goes?”
His hips ram into the bars as Baby sucks on him, pulling him into her mouth like a big binky. She swallows and he squeaks, trying to stay still like Daddy does, but it's hard.
He wants to touch her, hold her close, but doesn't want to scare her.
The lollipop game!
His eyes cross and he understands more why Daddy loves this game. The tingles feels so strong, he certainly won't last much– he remembers how Daddy does stickies so they aren't yucky in his mouth.
“Baby!! Bubba's gotta-ah-make stickies, ummm don-oh oh-here!”
He pulls out quickly enough that she looks shocked, and he pops her binky back in.
He can feel his tingles running up his back already and wraps his hand around his stiffy just into time to pump stickies out onto the floor. Baby's mouth felt so good, he wants to reward her.
But when he turns to her in her playpen, she's holding her bear, still on her knees, tears in her eyes again.
“Baby??”
“did bad? did bad ting-goes for Bubba? why go ‘way?”
“No!!” He climbs over her playpen easily, settling in behind her to hold her around her bare tummy.
He kisses her sweet pink cheek and pops her displaced binky back in again.
“Felt TOO good,” he murmurs in her ear, naturally rocking her back and forth, holding her distressed body under she relaxed.
“too good?” She whispers.
“Ye, felt like–” he points at the screen, where a boy character was screwing up his face and the girl pulled off to rub him hard until his stickies arced up comically high to hit the ceiling, ‘felt like dat, Baby. Felt so good, like I hadda essplode.”
Her crinkly butt bumped his softening winkie and he groaned until he realized she was looking hard at the screen. Her hips stuttered when he spoke.
“‘splode? Bubba felt-?” She points at the screen, hips thrusting
“Ye, Baby, you did so good,” Little feels naughty when he asks, “Baby need more?”
She nods and he reaches inside her padding again, tapping his watch twice before he does.
Daddy will show her bigger tingles. Baby needa essplode.
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existslikepristin · 4 months
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Okay, so I've done a couple of rewrites now, and I don't think I'm going to ever be fully happy with this, so let's just fuckin post this bad bitch
Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Sounds, Dreamcatcher, Itzy, Gahyeon, Yuna, first times, but let’s be real virginity is a social construct that means nothing about someone’s physical state of being, #LearnHowTheHymenWorks, cunnilingin' n' fingrin', nervousness, not even the normal kind of brattiness, Yuna’s just an insufferable idiot, no anal in this one wtf am i thinking?
Off to a Slow Start
~~~~~
Gahyeon rubbed the stress out of her eyes. Or at least she tried to. The skinny, shivering girl draped over her lap was turning out to be a pain in Gahyeon’s ass (instead of the other way around, as it should have been). 
“How about we do something else?” Gahyeon asked with a tone somewhere between hopeful and commanding.
“W-what? Why? I’m f-fine. This is s-so hot,” Yuna peeped. Sort of. It was more like she sobbed it like an emotionally damaged puppy might.
It was quite the shocking change in attitude after only two warm up spanks. Yuna’s butt wasn’t even pink.
Downstairs, when she first stomped up to Gahyeon, Yuna had been acting like she was hot shit. She put her hand on Gahyeon’s thigh, played footsie under the table, talked out of her throat like some kind of pornstar wannabe. It came as no surprise, then, when Yuna suggested that Gahyeon accompany her upstairs and "teach [her] a lesson." The part that was actually a surprise was when Gahyeon realized: when Yuna said “teach [her] a lesson,” she might have meant that very literally, because it was pretty obvious she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.
Gahyeon caught Yuna’s glistening eye in a decorative mirror on the wall and raised her hand as if to strike again. Never before had Gahyeon seen someone flinch away so hard from a simple slap on the ass, or grimace like they were expecting an executioner to flip the switch on an electric chair. She lowered her hand and very, very gently patted Yuna’s thigh. "You know what would be fun? Let's make out!”
Yuna pushed herself up on her elbows. Her bare stomach peeled away from Gahyeon’s thighs. Probably because she’d been sweating so darn much from her nerves. She gave Gahyeon a poor excuse for a defiant glare and sniffed away the lump in her throat. “Make… make out? But I’m here for… I thought you were supposed to be a good dominatrix.”
Gahyeon looked up at the dimmed light fixture and exhaled quietly. “Hey, I know you said something kind of like this earlier, but can you remind me what your safe word is, Yuna?” The question sounded a little more condescending than Gahyeon had meant it to.
“I don’t need woa-aaah!”
Crooking her elbow under Yuna’s waist, Gahyeon picked her up, suplexed her onto the bed, climbed on top of her, and got face-to-face. “First of all, ‘dominatrix’ is improper terminology for this situation. Second, if we don’t negotiate a safe word, I’m out of here.”
"Ummm. I, uh. Um."
"Tell me the first word that comes to mind."
“M-mistress?”
Gahyeon rolled her eyes. “Okay, bye.”
“Huh? Wait!”
Gahyeon was already halfway to the door by the time Yuna scrambled off the bed, but turned back to give her an uncaring glare. On her feet, Yuna was a hell of a sight. Tall, skinny, but curvaceous, like the kind of doll that would be sold to make young girls self-conscious about their bodies. Long, dark red hair and black pools for eyes, and she'd put on far more makeup than reasonable for an average coffee run. Gahyeon didn’t want to leave, but Yuna wasn’t making staying the easy decision.
"Wait for what?" Gahyeon asked.
"For… to… so you can make me…"
"I can't make you finish a sentence."
Yuna's supermodel bearing was taken down a peg by her disappointed slouch and concerned grimace. "You know what I mean… like, dominate me."
"Why?"
"Aren’t you horny?"
Gahyeon glanced at Yuna's tits. "No more than usual."
"What? But I…"
"You sure did."
"I-I was going to say—"
"I know."
"N-no you don't!"
Gahyeon groaned, "Maybe I don't care then. No big deal. Take your pick. I don’t like brats. I only tolerate them during Kinktober."
Yuna blushed and looked down, wiggling her knees in discomfort. Gahyeon wasn't going to deny that Yuna was fantastically fuckable, but she was also responsible enough to know when someone was in over their head. "Well, Yuna? What are you trying to do?"
Yuna muttered "I want to get laid" under her breath. With no other noise in the room to mask it, Gahyeon heard it, and yet a vague muttering wasn't what she wanted to hear.
"What's that? I couldn't hear you."
"I wanna get laid,” Yuna whined, fully out loud, “Okay?"
Gahyeon leaned back against the doorframe. "You a virgin?"
Yuna's blush extended down to her shoulders.
"Well that's a yes."
"B-but! I'm—No, I'm not!"
"And you would say that even if I said calling someone a virgin is just a bad social construct and that being a so-called ‘virgin’ is no better or worse than the alternative?"
"Uh…" Yuna scrunched her nose as she used all of her brain power to process the question. "Yes? Or, wait, no?"
"Nevermind.” Gahyeon waved it off. “Just tell me the truth. Have you had sex before or not? Anything with hands or mouths counts."
There was a pause while Yuna weighed her options. "No…”
Gahyeon was actually a little bit shocked. Yuna was among the hottest of idols, so even this level of awkwardness didn’t seem like it should be too much of a hindrance. Gahyeon had fucked or at least fucked around with a dozen idols with subpar social skills in the prior couple of months.
“But I've been trying!” Yuna shouted after the briefest silence, “Nobody will fuck me though! Not even men!”
“The fuck do you mean, ‘Not even men?’”
“Boys are supposed to be horny all the time. But even if I show them my pussy, they keep rejecting me.”
Gahyeon sighed, “Is that proceeding or preceding a conversation?”
“Of course I say ‘Hi.’ I try asking them if they work out too.”
“Is that it? Because idols have to work out. It’s in the job description.”
Yuna groaned and plopped onto the bed, curving her back like a clothes mannequin, apparently subconsciously. “I've tried all the stuff boys are supposed to like! I touch them, I guide their hands to my boobs, I tell them they smell sexy. All that stuff! And don't get me started on girls. I see them going around and getting laid all the time! And it's like, they'll be sluts for anybody except for me, and—”
“Let me stop you there before you make more of a fool of yourself,” Gahyeon snapped. Yuna froze. “A few things. One: We only use words like ‘slut’ in an endearing manner around here. Two: Some people might just not want to fuck you, ever. Can’t control it. And three: Are you just expecting sex from people? Like me?”
Yuna shifted uncomfortably. “No… I'm doing what I'm supposed to do first.”
“And what is that?”
“You know.” Yuna waved her hands around, pantomiming nothing in particular. “I ask politely. I let them know I'm available. I make myself up for them.”
“And…” Gahyeon mimicked Yuna’s pointless pantomimes. “They should obviously be throwing themselves at you, yet somehow nobody is approaching you?”
“I’ve been approached, I guess, but not from anyone in my league.”
“Pretty sure you’re still in the little leagues, my dude.”
Yuna whined, “Why should I be?! Every fan and their mom wants me.”
“Gross power dynamic, but okay. So I should have just known what you wanted when you walked up to me? And I should have wanted to fuck you? No conversation required?”
“Well… No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that if I do all that stuff—and more, by the way—and they're horny, why shouldn’t they want to fuck me? I'm not even demanding anything from them. I'm offering! Like, blowjobs. I'd be doing all the work!”
Gahyeon stepped away from the door frame and paced the room. “Here's the thing, Yuna. It sounds like people might be picking up on an attitude problem.”
“Attitu—but, no! I'm literally offering a good time, and usually I offer just to make them feel good! I'm not asking for anything in return! What's the big deal?”
“Nothing you've said yet strikes you as ‘bad attitude?’ Because it sounds to me like you're not affording people the courtesy of assuming they have a full breadth of human emotion and think they're good for nothing but sex.”
Yuna blinked. “I-I am, though!”
“Not, or aren't?”
“Ugh!” Yuna grabbed a handful of her hair. “No, I'm saying… You know what? Forget it! I'll just never—”
Looking her up and down for a moment (and not really listening), Gahyeon wondered if her behavior was ever anything like Yuna's. Probably not. She was practically domming her members ever since they met, and it turned sexual almost as soon as Gahyeon was old enough. Relating to Yuna was clearly out of the question.
Even so, Gahyeon felt a sympathetic pulse in her veins. Yuna's troubles, self-imposed or not and ultimately, definitely not anything close to a big deal, were still troubles to Yuna, and they were eating her up, it seemed.
Gahyeon weighed her options. Doing as Yuna demanded would enforce negative opinions. Refusing would make things more awkward for the next person Yuna tried to seduce. But Gahyeon did still like the idea of Yuna… She cracked her knuckles.
“—so I guess I'll just die alone,” Yuna continued to bitch on, “stuffing myself with bigger and bigger—”
Gahyeon cut Yuna off with a hand over her mouth. “Yuna? One word answer. Do you still want to get laid right now?”
Yuna’s eyes, glistening with tears at the edges, widened in something between fear and awe. And yet, she didn’t answer.
Half expecting her to come up with some kind of painfully awkward excuse for saying no, Gahyeon kicked things up a notch. She pulled up her shirt with one hand, catching her bra along the way, and flashed Yuna, full-boobed. She took her hand off Yuna's mouth to gesture at her bare chest, and raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Yuna said almost as if she was in a trance.
“Then turn around.”
Yuna scrambled to her feet without standing up fully, spun a hundred and eighty degrees, and fell forward, catching herself on her elbows. Her knees followed her up and with that her ass was presented.
“Good,” Gahyeon said as she took her shirt and bra off entirely, “Now what exactly would you like me to do?”
“Uuuh…”
“Finger you? Tease you?” Gahyeon dropped her pants, climbing out of them and onto the bed behind Yuna. “I can let you take charge. Maybe I shouldn't have told you to turn around?”
Yuna shook her head. “N-no, nope, it would be better with you in charge.”
“Just give me a little bit of guidance then. I could have sworn you were asking for this.”
Gahyeon slid her hands up Yuna’s back, nails first, leaving white lines that quickly faded back into the approximation of porcelain that this new canvas was made of. Over and over again, Gahyeon reminded herself that Yuna was very pretty, and tried to use that to make herself forget the annoying parts. The fact that she was still thinking about them as she gripped Yuna’s tits didn’t bode well, but many three-plus-somes with Sua and Yoohyeon taught her the virtue of perseverance through annoying sex partners. Yuna was a very pretty canvas that needed to learn some manners.
In-depth lessons would come later though, after Gahyeon showed Yuna what her reward had the potential to be. “Well?”
Yuna's breaths got heavy as Gahyeon’s hands continued to wander, shifting between teasing touches and firm pressure. “I… I, um.”
"You want this?"
Yuna shook all over. She bit her lip and nodded.
Gahyeon breathed across Yuna’s ear, sending a deep shiver down her spine. “Tell me, then.”
“I d-don’t know what to say,” Yuna whined, groping blindly behind herself for Gahyeon’s arms.
Gahyeon pressed her chest against Yuna’s back and grabbed her hands, twirling their fingers together in a cruel, teasing dance. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, for starters.”
“It’s… hard to say.” Yuna arched her back, pushing her ass into Gahyeon’s hips. Her breath spiked over and over.
Gahyeon let her arms go mostly slack. “Then guide me there.”
With no small amount of hesitation, Yuna pulled Gahyeon’s hands tighter around herself and onto her ribs, moving them in a slow, jerking way down until they were between her legs. “Here.”
“I see. So you want me to touch your pussy? Your clit?”
Yuna whined even harder. She pushed insistently on Gahyeon’s limp fingers. “Both.”
“Both? That’s not how I phrased the question. It’s your pussy.” Gahyeon pressed one finger against Yuna’s entrance, earning a gasp. “Or your clit.” She pressed Yuna’s button with another finger, which all but made Yuna double over. Only then did Gahyeon wonder if she was technically providing incorrect information by distinguishing the body parts as separate.
“Oooh my g—My clit! Touch my clit…”
In a flash, Gahyeon took her hand back, licked her middle finger, and put it back, steadily swirling around Yuna’s clitoris. Yuna had to reach back and hang on to Gahyeon’s thighs to keep herself from falling. Her twitches, jerks, and shaky breathing were fun, and exactly what Gahyeon needed to get over her annoyance, at least for a while.
“I’m going to do the same thing with my tongue now, okay?”
Yuna shot up onto her hands. “Your t-tongue?”
Gahyeon circled Yuna’s clit with her finger, making her moan and tense up. She lowered her face so her mouth would be obscured, and the air from her every word would brush across Yuna’s pussy. “I might accidentally touch you with my lips too, if you’re okay with that. I promise I’ll be soft and gentle.”
“O-okay?”
Figuring that Yuna wouldn’t be giving her any more confident a response than that, Gahyeon leaned in further, gathering up extra spit as she went. She pressed the end of her tongue to Yuna’s clit, not hard, but somewhat firmly.
“O-oh," Yuna cooed and took a deep breath, "that’s pretty much just like your finge—”
Gahyeon swirled her tongue around Yuna’s hood, and the girl squirmed back and up out of range with a comically loud gasp. Gahyeon smiled internally. She knew what that was about. The shock of a good time could occasionally make one run away.
"Oh no," she said sarcastically, "You didn't like it. I'm sorry."
Yuna scrambled to get back in place, nearly kicking Gahyeon in the face. "No! I-I liked… please do it again?" There was desperation oozing out of her puppy dog eyes.
"Fine. Just be sure to tell me how you’re feeling, yeah?" She really wanted to hear Yuna try to describe being eaten out with her limited sexual vocabulary.
"I'll try…"
"Yes, just be as descriptive as you can, okay? I’ll adjust as needed."
Yuna nodded quickly. It was pretty clear that she just wanted Gahyeon to start again, so Gahyeon did, very, very, very slowly. She wet her tongue and barely touched it to Yuna's clit.
Again, Yuna flinched. This time Gahyeon was sure it was in anticipation. She looked up through the mild cleavage to give Yuna a reminder.
"Uh! Good! It felt good!"
Gahyeon touched again, but snaked her arms around Yuna’s legs to keep her in place. Another twitch, but smaller. Yuna was trying to contain herself. Gahyeon dragged her tongue slowly left and right. Trying to hold back wasn’t easy.
"It's… good."
Yuna's body language said much more than "good" though. She wanted more. Her eyes were fixed on Gahyeon. Her toes curled and uncurled against Gahyeon’s hips. Her knuckles were white, gripping the blanket. Her lungs shuddered with each brand new sensation that popped its way through her nerves. Goosebumps rose and fell and rose and rose and fell and rose. She had to be putting immense effort into holding still.
"Good."
Upping the ante, Gahyeon swirled again, catching the underside of Yuna's hood. Yuna twitched hard, and for a brief moment her eyes rolled up. Her breath was stuck, but it came unstuck with a second swirl, and exited Yuna's mouth in the form of a pained whimper. That was what Gahyeon was looking for.
"You like?"
"Good! It was so good! Please do it again!" Yuna’s inhibition was faltering.
"Tell me more." Gahyeon didn't pretend to hesitate again. She pressed her tongue under Yuna's hood and down against her clit, wiggling back and forth while keeping herself planted.
"Mmm! I… I don't know what to—OH! AUGH!”
Yuna’s last exclamation was a bit of a surprise, both to Gahyeon and Yuna herself, it seemed, as she quickly covered her mouth, eyes wide.
“Was that a good sound?” Gahyeon asked, already knowing the answer.
Yuna nodded.
“Uncover your mouth, then, and keep it up.”
There was some hesitation in how Yuna followed the instructions as Gahyeon got back to playing with her clit, but she did a little better than simply following. She grasped Gahyeon’s hands, alternated between hitched breaths and primal moans, and tucked her chin toward her chest. 
Every word Yuna tried to say morphed into one of those noises until she came. One long, vulgar scream faded into mewling whimpers.
Gahyeon crawled up Yuna’s body, pecking her along the way and giving her a much longer, wetter kiss on the mouth. Yuna giggled through it all, a little cum-drunk. “So,” Gahyeon said, “that’s one of the basics.”
“The b-basics?”
“Yeah.” Gahyeon twirled onto her back, slipping an arm beneath Yuna to pull her in close.
“Wow…” Yuna muttered.
The two basked in each other’s warmth for a while without a word. Gahyeon shifted a couple of times to try to optimize her comfort, but still mentally bemoaned Yuna’s lack of experience. She would not have minded a bit of reciprocation. A plan to pick up one or two of her usual subs on the way home began to formulate in her head. Jane would certainly be up for a bit of fun.
“Um, Gahyeon?”
Gahyeon stroked Yuna’s hair, around her ear, down her jaw, and to her chin. Yuna smiled and purred a little. Gahyeon returned that smile. “Hm?”
“Thank you for, um… not making fun of me.”
“Don’t thank me for that.” Gahyeon traced half of Yuna’s lower lip. “I made fun of you a little bit when we started. And quite a bit more later, I believe.”
Yuna cautiously placed a hand on Gahyeon’s breast, but got a little bolder and lightly squeezed when Gahyeon smiled. “I just mean most of the time.”
“I guess. I’ll keep in mind that you appreciate that.” Gahyeon giggled as Yuna nuzzled her stomach with her cheek. “Just be clear with people about what you do and don’t like, and you’ll have a… great time.”
Gahyeon’s last words were drawn out over the sound of a buzzing phone. Yuna’s, to be precise. She stretched to get it from the nightstand and saw “RAW” was calling.
“Raw?” Gahyeon asked.
Yuna reluctantly removed her hand from Gahyeon’s boob to take the phone. “That’s Ryujin… sorry. One sec.”
Though it was quiet, the lack of ambient noise made it easy for Gahyeon to hear Ryujin’s loud voice. “Where the hell are you, Yuna? We checked the bathroom.”
“I’m… upstairs.”
“Upstairs? The fuck are you doing upstairs for a whole hour?”
Yuna’s eyes traveled up and down Gahyeon’s body. “Cuddling?”
“Cuddling? For an hour? Yeah right.”
Huge puppy dog eyes met Gahyeon’s, trying to ask for permission. Gahyeon shrugged.
“Wel—”
“I’m cuddling with Gahyeon because we just had sex,” Yuna said, and then immediately snapped her mouth shut and stared into space.
“What?! No you didn’t, you fuckin baby child! You couldn’t handle her!”
Gahyeon watched for a few seconds as Yuna’s shoulders shrunk into her neck while Ryujin berated her.
“... and you’d come running back down the stairs crying—”
“Actually, Ryujin,” Gahyeon spoke loudly, “she’s not bad. You should let her practice on you sometime.”
Gahyeon swore she heard the sound of a pair of spit takes through the phone before it suddenly beeped twice and went silent. She decided not to wait too long for Yuna’s embarrassment to take over, and laid a hand on Yuna’s back. “Care to learn anything else today? If you want to prove what you can do to Ryujin and Yeji, you may need to do to them what I just did to you.”
Thankfully, Yuna’s blush didn’t get too far. “I-I don’t know if I can do any more right now.”
Gahyeon smiled. “As in it’s time to head out or you just want more snuggles?”
Yuna pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and crawled forward, kissing Gahyeon’s lips a few times in rapid succession. “If I say I have to go, can I have your number?”
Gahyeon ran her fingers through Yuna’s hair. “Sure… but the first thing you're going to text me is a safeword for next time.”
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shares-a-vest · 1 year
Text
No one knows why Eddie and Nancy call each other "my dear" and "honey" respectively. Not even Steve and Robin, who only give a brief pause (and sometimes a confused, "huh?") before going back to whatever nonsense. Even though it is absolutely, one hundred percent, their fault.
It’s all because Eddie and Nancy are dating two people permanently attached at the hip. "Platonic soulmates" they say, repeated ad nauseam. Two people who should be siblings. A pair of bickering sisters who are also sometimes gross brothers. A brother and sister duo so chaotic they give the Sinclairs a run for their money.
Platonic soulmates who act like two silly drunk girls when they are out at a bar. Two losers who cackle with laughter and sing along far too loudly to the radio on the way home.
A pair of idiots stumbling up the stairs in Steve’s house, gradually discarding jackets, bags and accessories.
Eddie is relatively sober, having played with the band and Nancy is tipsy, never one to entirely shake her sensible and put-together self. So Eddie follows behind, closing the front door, locking it and turning the lights off, while Nancy scurries along picking up the tossed attire.
"You're my best friend!" Robin shouts, squishing Steve's cheeks together as they hang off each other, wobbly at the top of the stairs.
"Love you, Robbie!" Steve says, voice cracking as he sniffles and kisses her on the cheek.
He takes her hand and they disappear up the hall.
By the time Eddie reaches Steve’s bedroom, Steve and Robin are passed out on that plaid bedspread, all curled up together like two creatures huddled together for warmth and companionship.
Nancy grumbles as she straightens up the shoes scattered at the foot of the bed.
"I swear they forget we exist sometimes," she says, huffing as she tugs off Robin’s left boot that she’d only managed to unzip.
"Oh absolutely," Eddie agrees.
He can’t help but walk over to Steve’s bedside and brush his fringe from his face. Steve produces a gross snorting nose at the movement, cuddling in closer to his best friend.
"Stop… snoring… di…" Robin mumbles, not getting out her favourite nickname before drifting back off to sleep.
Eddie steps back and folds his arms, resigning himself to spending his Sunday tolerating two hungover platonic soulmates in their worst and most annoying form.
Nancy rolls her eyes. "Get your bag and come into the spare room."
They make quick work of changing, Eddie in an oversized band tee and a pair of Steve’s checked pyjama pants he had taken ownership of. He looks in the mirror as he stands side-by-side Nancy in the upstairs bathroom, both brushing their teeth in silence. He looks over her pale pink nightdress, embellished with embroidered flowers and can’t help the huffed laugh that escapes him.
"What?" Nancy smiles and spits out her toothpaste in the sink.
"We look like an old married couple who have run out of things to talk about."
Nancy giggles, quickly moving to a washcloth to wipe her mouth before she bursts out laughing. She zips up her cosmetics bag and makes a sharp turn to face Eddie, her brow quirked.
"Honey, did you enjoy the soiree this evening?" she says in an uptight, snooty voice, cocking her chin and giving a sly smile.
"Splendid, my dear!" he replies, toothbrush dangling from his mouth as he bows with a flourish. "Although the band was an absolute bore."
"Don't say that!" Nancy chides, breaking character as she playfully slaps his shoulder.
He snorts a laugh as he finishes up and rinses his mouth out, dripping water everywhere.
"Wheeler, there were like seven people there, including you, Steve and Rob," he laughs, dropping the facade too.
"Shall we retire for the night?" she says, changing the subject and slipping back into character. She offers her hand.
"To the bedroom!" he declares, pointing to the door.
The spare bedroom is, unsurprisingly, similar to the rest of the house. Sparse and low-lit with heavy dark curtains that make Steve’s plaid drapes look light and airy in comparison.
"I hope you don’t snore as much as Steve, Nancy," Eddie warns without any heat behind his words as he punches his pillow into a shape that isn't flat and solid.
"He does snore, doesn’t he?" she wonders aloud as she slips under the covers, huffing a laugh. "Robin talks in her sleep. Nothing serious or anything. Total nonsense."
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Of course she does."
"Last week she woke me up," she starts as she pokes at his shoulder. "Tapping on my shoulder saying, ‘Nance, tell the fish it’s time to get ready for school’."
"Di-did you have… fish children?" he asks before doubling over, cackling.
"I think so," Nancy ponders, speaking slow before snorting a laugh.
"Goodnight, my dear."
"Night, honey."
At that, they turn away from each other, snuggling under the covers for a restful night’s sleep.
The following morning, Steve and Robin swap out his bed for cocooning themselves in blankets on the Harrington's gigantic couch as Eddie finishes up making their breakfast. They’d stirred fairly early in the morning, moving into the guest room and not-at-all subtly waking Eddie and Nancy to demand breakfast, all the while complaining about their whereabouts the night before.
Nancy enters the kitchen, freshly showered and laughs at the state of their counterparts. But they do not surface. If anything, Eddie swears Steve’s snoring is getting louder with every passing minute.
"Breakfast is all set, my dear," Eddie says, flinging a teatowel over his shoulder and offering her Steve's plate.
She hesitates but he gestures to the others on the couch. Robin is now babbling something incoherently as she taps Steve on the shoulder.
"Thank you, honey," Nancy giggles as she takes the food.
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grandeoatmilklatte · 2 months
Text
Fire in the Frat House (Modern College AU Ominis Gaunt x F!MC) 🔥
Another mood board challenge from my wonderful friend @ellivenollivander . She sent me another mood board to base a fic off of, with this one being Ominis themed. So I decided to revisit my modern college AU Frat boy Ominis.
Tagging @little-emerald-snake cause you were excited when I posted the snippet to this one! Apologies it's not hella spicy but I have some spicy Ominis on the way!
Warnings: Mostly fluff, but with a brief moment of dry hump!ng || characters are in college and over 18.
Word Count: 1.9k
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The girl groaned as the webpage loaded, displaying a measly 70% on the essay she had submitted last week, the one that had taken her hours of research to complete. 3 months into it, and her first semester wasn’t turning out to be the fun experience she thought it was going to be. Granted, she knew there was more to college than parties, but she also didn’t think her classes would be this difficult, especially having done so well in high school. 
Right now, there were only two things bringing her joy in her freshman life. The first thing being her Sorority - her sisters being some of the best people she had met in her time in college so far. Although the Sorority president, Imelda Reyes, absolutely hated her, she mostly left her alone. The second thing was her relationship with sophomore, popular boy, and campus Fraternity’s president - Ominis Gaunt. 
On the surface, Ominis seemed like the most stereotypical hot, rich, Frat boy - His family donated tons of money to the university over the years, and were friends with the Dean’s family. All of the male Gaunts had attended the school, and they all served as Fraternity president the entire time they were in attendance. Everyone respected Ominis and his social status. Nobody dared to cross him, or even think about making fun of his blindness, which he had since birth. All the boys wanted to be his friend, and all the girls wanted to be his girlfriend (hence Imelda’s hatred). 
Being Ominis Gaunt came with a lot of power, and being Ominis Gaunt’s girlfriend came with a power of its own. She met him on a Friday after her first week, was in his bed by Saturday, and was in the Sorority by Monday. There was no bullying or freshman hazing for her with Ominis on her arm.
Despite the quickness at which their relationship developed, they were very happy. Ominis was an amazing boyfriend - never afraid to show her off, and being supportive during her first semester of college. Of course there were some things he could not prepare her for, and this crappy grade was one of those things. The girl slammed her laptop shut, grabbed her jacket, and left the Sorority house. 
She walked the short distance from the Sorority house to the Frat house, where she let herself inside with her key; another perk of being Ominis Gaunt’s girlfriend. As she passed the kitchen, she found Garreth Weasley, her friend from high school, raiding the fridge. 
She shot Garreth a smile before she made her way upstairs to Ominis’s room, which she found empty. She knew he had a big exam today, so this wasn’t surprising. Between this exam and her essay, the couple had barely seen each other the past few days. She tossed herself on his bed, which was dressed with emerald green satin sheets, and waited, eventually dozing off. 
She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep for, but she was violently awoken when she heard the sound of Ominis’s room door slamming shut. She sat up to see her boyfriend tossing his school bag on the floor in frustration. 
“Babe, are you okay?” 
Ominis looked up in the direction of her voice, seemingly having not noticed she was there. “Oh, darling! I didn’t realize you were here. I…I didn’t do so great on that exam.” There was sadness in his voice. Despite Ominis’s status, he was incredibly smart and took his studies very seriously, so not doing well on an exam was not easy for him.
“Oh honey, I’m sorry!” She threw her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t do well on my essay either. Why don’t we do something fun tonight, to get our minds off our terrible day!”
Ominis pulled back, a smile now gracing his beautiful face. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, my dear! Let me take a shower and then we can plan our evening.”
She looked on as Ominis began to strip down, fighting the urge to pounce on him right then and there. Her eyes studied his body as he undressed - his toned arms, fit stomach, the trail of dark blonde hair below his belly button, lower. 
She shook her head to pull herself out of her inappropriate thoughts, grateful that he couldn’t see the way she was ogling him as he wrapped a towel around his waist and exited the room. Not wanting to wait around in his bedroom, she headed downstairs, where she found Garreth in the common area, devouring a bowl of pasta. 
“Is everything alright? I saw Gaunt seemed pretty upset when he got here.” he asked with a mouth full of food. 
She rolled her eyes at Garreth’s terrible manners, and went on to explain the horrible day they both had. As she spoke, Garreth continued to eat his spaghetti, and it gave her an idea. 
“That really sucks!” Garreth said through another mouthful of food. “A few of us guys are going to the movies tonight, and then we’re going to get some beers. I know Ominis can’t actually see the movie, but he likes to listen to them. You’re welcome to tag along!”
“Thanks for the offer, Weasley but we’ll pass. We have plans tonight anyway!”
“Well, make sure nobody catches you here after 10. You know you’re not allowed to be here after 10!” Garreth said the last bit in a mocking tone while she laughed, knowing full well that Ominis never followed that rule. 
When she made her way back upstairs, she found Ominis getting dressed. She once again ogled him as he put on a satin black button-down, which he paired with black skinny jeans. He paused for a moment before chuckling. 
“You know, I can feel you staring at me again.”
She let out a bashful laugh. “Sorry baby, I can’t help it, you’re just so pretty to look at.”
Ominis smiled. “Heard that a few of the guys were going out to a movie. Figured we could go and then I can take you to dinner afterwards.”
“Actually, I thought maybe we could stay in. We’ve got the entire house to ourselves after all! I thought I could cook us some dinner!”
She didn’t have much skill when it came to cooking, the roles of house chefs belonging to Garreth and a girl named Poppy in her house, but she was eager to do something fun for Ominis, and she hoped it would take both their minds off their bad day. 
“Oh darling, that would be lovely!”
It was not lovely. Twenty minutes in and she had already shattered a bowl, dropped raw chicken on the floor, and spilled pasta sauce on herself. Despite the chaos she declined help, Ominis having shouted “Darling, are you alright? Do you need any help?” three times in the short time she had been in the kitchen. 
Her luck began to turn around, or so she thought, when she successfully had two chicken breasts cooking nicely on the stove. She then turned her attention to a pot she had filled with water that was starting to boil. She grabbed a handful of spaghetti, not bothering to measure if it was an appropriate amount for two people, and tossed it into the water. Figuring she had some time before she’d need to return to her pasta, she headed over to the common area to find Ominis on the couch. 
“How’s it going, my beautiful chef?” 
“It’s FINALLY going alright!” she giggled as she straddled his lap, her arms coming up around his neck. 
“I’m so glad. I can’t wait to taste what you’ve got cooking for us!” Ominis placed his arms on her back, pulling her against his chest as his lips found hers. Their tongues danced, and after a few seconds, her hips started moving, grinding against his lap. She began to moan softly against his lips as Ominis’s hands shot up her skirt, taking hold of her ass. He guided her as she grinded her center against the growing bulge in his pants. 
Her hands moved from Ominis’s neck to his chest as she began to open the buttons on his shirt when he abruptly pulled away from her lips, sniffing the air around him. “Darling, do you smell that? It smells like - “
“Oh shit!” She shouted as she jumped off of her boyfriend’s lap, running to the kitchen. The fire alarm began to blare as she was met with the sight of her dry spaghetti on fire. She began to panic, frantically opening cabinets until she found the pot’s lid, slamming the lid on to the pot, forcing the flames to smother. It took the pair several minutes to free the room of smoke, the girl bursting into tears once they had finished. 
“I’m so sorry Ominis! I just wanted to do something nice for us after the horrible day we had. I’m so sorry I ruined dinner and made things worse!”
Ominis planted a kiss on her forehead before pulling his sobbing girlfriend into his arms. “Nonsense darling, the effort alone was more than enough. No matter how bad my day is, once I’m with you, it all fades away. I love you, sweetheart! It’s okay! I promise. We can always order a pizza.”
“I feel the same way. You make even the worst days amazing.” She sniffled. “I love you, Ominis.”
One hour and one pizza pie later, the couple was snuggled on the couch watching tv. Drowsiness began to overtake the girl, as she let out a yawn. 
“Do you mind if I hop in your shower? I’m getting sleepy.”
“Of course. Just give me a moment!” 
Without another word, Ominis walked off, walking stick in hand, leaving her on the couch. She thought nothing of it, figuring he just wanted to use the bathroom, or perhaps clean it up before she went in; that is until she heard Ominis calling her name from the bathroom upstairs.
She pulled open the bathroom door to find a bubble bath waiting for her, the smell of lavender and roses wafting through the air, and Ominis already in the tub. 
“Ominis!” she exclaimed, the sweet gesture almost making her cry.
“Get in darling, before the water gets cold! And before the rest of the guys get back.”
She was about to undress when she was hit with another, less dangerous idea than her last one. She left the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a bottle of wine and a carton of strawberries. 
The couple soaked in their bath, playing with the bubbles, drinking the wine straight from the bottle, and feeding each other strawberries. As Ominis began to massage shampoo into his girlfriend’s scalp, she reminisced about the terrible day she had, and how it turned around so quickly thanks to Ominis. She was so grateful for him and she found herself falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day. Ominis felt the same, wondering to himself what he would do without her in his life. He loved her more than anything else in the world.
They finished in the bath just in time to hear the sound of the boys returning home. Not wanting to hear their complaints of “why are you allowed to have a girl here after hours and we can’t?”, Ominis quickly brought her back to his bedroom, where they got ready to call it a night. 
After changing into one of his oversized shirts and nothing else, she joined him in bed, nuzzling into him as he wrapped his arms around her. As they snuggled, Ominis forgot about the exam he failed, and she forgot about the paper she bombed. They both just focused on each other’s breathing until they drifted off to sleep. 
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atinylittlepain · 8 months
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I Wanna Marry You
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!OC
Hungry Hearts masterlist
he has a black velvet box waiting in his sock drawer. what will her answer be?
wordcount | 5K
warnings | this bad boy has it all. a little smut, a little angst, a whole lot of fluff
a/n | the jerry proposal and wedding event of the century. i had a lot of fun with this and would love to hear what y'all think <3
................................
Here’s the thing, Joel Miller is not slick. At all. And Cherry is pretty sure she knows what he’s up to.
For starters, she keeps finding him in their bedroom, his arm stuck way back into his sock drawer, though he never fails to whip around and slam it shut when she catches him, face flushed down and palming the back of his neck, a pantomime of casual guilt. He has also started making frequent trips out onto the back porch in the evening, leaving her on the couch while he takes a call. 
No, Joel Miller is not slick at all. She bets it’s Tommy’s fault, never far from a carton himself, though he knows better now than to smoke in her house, one too many swats upside the head. But he’s usually got a cigarette between his teeth when he and Joel drive together to work, so she doesn’t have to look far to figure out where Joel has picked it up again. 
It isn’t exactly that she minds him smoking. Hell, everyone did it in the eighties, and she even picked it up for a while back in the mid-nineties in the whole artsy-fartsy writing scene. What’s bothering her is that he’s making such a big deal of hiding it from her. Sure, keep it away from the girls, but why all the bullshit with her?
But she’s been waiting for him to bring it to her, something about healthy relationships and building trust and all that good stuff that she heard on some radio show, listened to while she was supposed to be doing edits for her newest project. She hasn’t snooped, she hasn’t pried, even as whatever this is continues to grate on her nerves. Supposed calls being taken, and Joel spending a bit too much time with his hand in his sock drawer.
Here’s the thing, Cherry isn’t very good at waiting. A moment of weakness, what she should be doing is going over the new round of edits she was just sent. What she finds herself doing instead is wandering upstairs into their bedroom. Everyone else out of the house, the girls at school and Joel at work for another half hour, so it’s perfectly quiet when she opens up his sock drawer and starts rifling through it.
She would have preferred to find a carton of cigarettes. Definitely not a necklace, nor a bracelet, and she’s pretty sure it’s not earrings either. No, the black velvet box is the wrong shape for any of those pieces of jewelry. She doesn’t open the box though, doesn’t really have time to when she suddenly hears the garage door opening, followed by what could only be the sound of Joel’s boots shuffling around in the kitchen. 
“Cher?” She moves before she can think, something nervous swirling up in her stomach, that damn velvet box still clutched in her hand as she makes her way downstairs. Joel stops himself mid sentence, something about needing to go to the grocery that gets cut off when he catches her pinched expression. 
“What happened? What’s the matter?” Anger feels good at least, so she scoffs, setting the ring box down on the kitchen counter between them. Joel’s face goes perfectly slack.
“You tell me. What the hell is this?” 
“That’s– you– what’re you doing snooping like that? Jesus christ.” Good, she thinks, let him get angry too. It’ll give her something to bite back at, glaring at each other from across the counter, Joel running a frustrated palm down his face.
“Snooping? Oh please, it was kinda hard not to notice your newfound obsession with the back of your fucking sock drawer. I’m telling you right now, Joel Miller, if this is what I think it is, you’ll return it if you know what’s good for you.” 
“Oh come on, Cher, just–”
“No.”
“Let’s just–”
“No, Joel. We’ve talked about this. You know that isn’t something I want.” She sees the sharp wince in his expression, but it’s not enough for her to back down, not when it comes to this. They have talked about this. A few times now. And normally, Joel is on her side, neither of them caring much about a ceremony or the titles that would come with it. Hell would have to freeze over before she took someone else’s name, not when she has built so much out of and on her own. 
“I just– it’s paperwork. That’s all it is, and a ring. You and I don’t need that, baby. It’s, we’re past that.” She knows what she’s doing with that soft baby she slips into her words, and for a beat, it seems to melt Joel just the way she wants it to, his eyes rounding a little, grimace softening around the edges. But then he huffs, a harsh drag of his fingers through his hair as he shakes his head at her.
“What about what I want, huh? Is it such a goddamn crime for me to want this? To want something a little more– a little more official? Fuck, Cherry, this isn’t– this is not how I wanted this to go.” Damn him, damn him for the way his words crack, tired and utterly disappointed at the end, a long sigh that slumps his shoulders. Damn him, she can never stay mad at him. Damn him, because she would like to give him whatever he wants, but this is not that easy. Silence falls between them, Joel resting both his palms on the counter, his head hanging down between his shoulders. Careful and quiet, she rounds the counter, one palm to his shoulder, and one covering his hand. 
“You deserve to have what you want, you do. But marriage is not– it’s not something– what we have is good, and I don’t want this– this thing to change it.” The truth of it. To her, marriage is cage. Marriage is silent houses, scraping forks at dinner. Marriage is violence. And she thinks that Joel understands that, his palm shuffling to rest over hers, thumb stroking along the side of her hand. 
“I don’t want it to be like that, Cher. Like you said, s’just paperwork. We can make it whatever we want it to be. Hell, we can just chalk it up to the tax breaks if we want.” It’s enough to coax a laugh up from her chest, her smile slipping to the side as she rests her cheek against his bicep, anger long forgotten for whatever this is. Something sweet, at least.
“Can I ask why it’s so important to you? Because if it’s just Deedee breathing down your neck I can handle–”  He cuts her off with a laugh of his own, a small shuffle for him to lean back against the counter, her stepping between his legs and letting her hands settle along his waist, dipping her head down when his chin drops in something a bit bashful.
“No, it’s not her, though she probably wouldn’t be upset at the prospect. But it is something I want, and– it’s stupid really.” She coaxes him with a quiet no, tell me, baby, squeezing at the soft part of his waist, making him huff again, and maybe flush a little. She loves getting him like this, a little mushy gushy where he’s usually such a hardass. God forbid Joel Miller have feelings, and God forbid he get embarrassed by having said feelings.
“Certainty, you know? That’s what marriage means to me. My folks– they’ve been married for fifty-something years now. And it’s a very real thing to them, that commitment. I just– I’d like that– with you.” And damn him again, for looking at her like that, brow all pinched up, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth when he finishes talking. She gets it now. Where she sees capture, captive, Joel sees comfort, reassurance that yes, this is real. Yes, staying. Got the ring and the paperwork to prove it. Maybe it could be that for her too. Maybe he could show her how.
Her answer doesn’t come in words, not at first, easy to lean forward and press her lips to his, once, twice, feeling the small curl of his smile the second time, hers matching his, fitting with his.
“So, you said something about tax breaks?” Enough to smooth out the scrunch of uncertainty in his expression, that smile threatening at the corners of his mouth while her palms smooth and shift to splay over his chest. 
“That a yes?” 
“Show me the ring, Miller.” He doesn’t turn around, just fumbles blindly behind himself until he snatches up the box. Of course, it’s perfect. A little unconventional, simple silver band with an opal set in it. Yes feels a little easier just looking at it. 
“I’m not wearing white, for the record.” 
“I’d expect nothing less, Cher.” Before he can lean in for another kiss, she remembers that initial curl of anger, pressing against his chest to hold him at bay.
“Wait, so you’re not smoking again?”
“What? Why the hell would you think that?” 
“I mean, that’s what I assumed was going on with the sock drawer and all the evening calls you were taking on the porch.” While she’s dead serious, Joel just seems entirely amused by the whole thing, letting out a laugh and squeezing at her hips even as she huffs at him.
“That’s not– those were phone calls, with Tommy. I was– well, I was planning something for you.” Damn him, Joel Miller was planning a proposal, and now she looks like a total jackass for ruining it.
“Oh, oh. What were you planning?” 
“If you weren’t so goddamned nosy maybe you would’ve gotten to find out, Cherry baby.” 
“Hey, watch it. The ring isn’t on my finger yet.” Of course Joel takes that as a challenge, one she doesn’t really care to fight against, letting him pull her closer into his chest while he fumbles with her left hand, a small, petulant grumble when it takes him a few tries to slide the ring onto her finger. When he does succeed, she indulges him with a waggle of her fingers, watching the gem glint, all light and color. 
“What do you think?” 
“You did good, Miller.”
“The girls helped pick it out.”
“You’re telling me Sarah and Ellie both knew about this? And that Ellie voluntarily looked at jewelry?” Clearly pleased with himself, he hums a yes, so smug she would smack him if it wasn’t a sweet thought. Her girl helping him pick something out for her mom. 
“Just to clarify, this does count as a yes, right?” 
“I suppose so.” She says it with a sigh, playing at resignation that he jostles out of her, another kiss that’s more answer than anything else.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh, putting on my suit jacket.”
“If you think you’re wearing jeans to the goddamn ceremony you’re sorely mistaken.”
“It’s Texas, Joel. You can wear jeans to a wedding.”
“Not to mine you can’t. Does Maria know about your little outfit? Because I reckon she’s not gonna be too pleased with it either.” Tommy’s face falls at that, hands pausing in his adjustment of his cufflinks.
“Shit, you think I got time to run back to my place?” 
“You’ll have to meet us there, but I ain’t letting you in the chapel like that either.” Tommy is already shuffling down the hall, though Joel chooses to ignore what he thinks is a grumbled fucking diva that comes from his brother’s mouth. More important things to be thinking about anyways, like the faint sound of Cherry and the girls getting ready down the hall. 
Sarah and Ellie had been adamant about this separation, starting last night when they stepped in front of the couch where he and Cherry were sitting. Their girls, with all the solemnity of CIA agents, informing them that the next time Joel would see his woman would be at the altar, no time for him to protest when they were already all but dragging her away from him. Sure, she was just down the hall in the guestroom, but he wasn’t about to rail against their girls’ orders, unsure whose wrath he was more afraid of, Sarah’s or Ellie’s, or the combined, nuclear explosion of the two. 
His eyes flick over to the clock on the nightstand, a muttered curse when he realizes they should have left five minutes ago. The plan, him and Sarah, his best maid of honor as she had named herself, in the truck, and Cherry and Ellie, her best maid of honor as dubbed by Sarah, in the minivan. No seeing each other until the altar, right. 
“Sarah, you ready to go? We’re already–” He doesn’t get the rest out, stumbling back in the hall when someone clamps their palms over his eyes. 
“Don’t look, old man, Jesus. We were just leaving.” He huffs at Ellie’s snappy command, a light tug to her wrists, though her hands don’t budge, clammy over the tops of his cheeks where they’re covering his eyes.
“Kid, my eyes are closed. Lay off, huh?” Albeit reluctantly, Ellie takes her hands away, a seemingly satisfied hum when she sees that his eyes are in fact closed. 
“I’ll give you the all clear when we’re down the stairs, alright? But until then, keep ‘em shut.” Lord help him.
“Uh-huh, whatever you say, boss.” Not sure what else to do, he rests his hands on his hips, eyes still scrunched shut as he hears what he thinks is the sound of Ellie and Sarah both bounding down the steps, but his whole spine shivers  when he feels a hand slip along his jaw, nails lightly scratching at his scruff.
“Look at you, baby. Always clean up so nice.” He could open his eyes, but now it feels like a game with the way her words graze right over his mouth, and he’s not about to lose. 
“How come you get to look?” A bright peel of laughter, her other palm slipping up along his chest. He can picture that grin of hers in his mind.
“Because I’m the bride, Joel. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He has to laugh, his hands reaching blindly, slipping against silk that makes a hum settle in his chest. His eyes threaten to open on impulse to see, though he manages to keep them scrunched shut. 
“You still wanna do this, right? It’s– this is still good?” He knows it’s a stupid question, a small part of him still worried that somehow, there will be a catch to all of this. But Cherry doesn’t even indulge his ask with words, a pfft in the back of her throat before she leans in a little closer, guiding his lips to hers in a sweet, simple kiss. 
“I’ll see you at the altar, handsome.” 
“Dad, don’t cry. We haven’t even gotten to the church yet.” He sniffs hard, knuckles swiping under his nose as his other hand holds the passenger side door open for Sarah. 
“I’m not– not crying. You look very beautiful, honey.” An eye roll and a scoff, but he’ll take it, because she really does look lovely in the light purple dress Cherry helped her pick out, a sweet sight, with baby’s breath threaded through her hair.
His heart starts to kick up when they get to the church. It’s a small thing, simple, white clapboard and a single steeple. He knew that Deedee would have thrown a fit if they didn’t get married in a place of worship, not that he or Cherry had stepped foot in a church anytime in their recent adult lives. Still, they were happy to make that compromise, even though the priest had a small aneurysm when they told him that Cherry wouldn’t be taking Joel’s last name, no need for the Mr. and Mrs. Miller congratulations. Doing things their own way, just like they always have. 
Only the first two rows are filled across each aisle. His parents, Tommy and Maria, a handful of other friends and family. Will is here too, with his girlfriend who Cherry seems sure will soon be more than his girlfriend. Joel’s family has become hers in many ways, filling in the gaps, something he’s been happy to be able to offer to her, and to Will whenever he visits. 
He stands at the altar, waiting, Sarah right next to him, his hand on her shoulder, something to steady whatever this jittery feeling is. 
And there’s no fanfare to it, just a sudden wave of silence when she and Ellie appear at the end of the aisle, heads turning over shoulders to see. Ellie looks sharp in her suit, pleased with herself, clear in the set back of her shoulders and the tilt of her chin as she walks her mom down the aisle. And Cherry, well. 
He can already hear her snark. We’re way past white, Miller. Like sage, he thinks, soft green silk, a simple slip, her shoulders bare to reveal the dark curl of her tattoo. Her bouquet, made mostly of chrysanthemums, a broken laugh rattling in his chest at the sight. And she’s looking at him, the smallest curl of a smile, maybe a little nervous when her eyes dart to their modest audience, but then right back on him, still certain. 
“I like the suit, kid.”
“Thanks, old man.” He’s only a little surprised when Ellie offers him a quick hug, already ducking over to the side so it’s just him and Cherry, and the priest, of course.
And the rest is blissfully easy.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
“Don’t slouch.” Her mother’s hand is a quick curl of ice at the back of her neck, just enough pressure to send her spine back into straightness from her slow slump in the pew. Honestly, she’s not sure why her family insisted on going to this wedding, it’s not like they’re that close with Lisa-Anne’s family, especially not her older sister who is the one getting married. Appearances, she reasons, always appearances with her mother and father. See and be seen. 
Right now, after a nearly two-hour long ceremony, she has no interest in what her mother and father want, a little more focused on how her tights are cutting into her waist, sweat starting to drip down her spine beneath the stiff fabric of her dress. Mercifully though, this whole wedding thing seems to be wrapping itself up, man and wife walking down the aisle to a polite chorus of clapping. Meanwhile, she’s trying to figure out how she can escape early from the party afterward, trailing a bit glumly behind Will and their parents as everyone files out of the church. 
“Hey, Cherry.” Just above a whisper, it still stops her in her tracks, stepping out of the throng of people to look around for where that sound came from. She scoffs when she sees who it is.
“What do you want, Joel?” He looks like a cartoon character running from the law, peeking out from behind the side of the church, wild grin and a jerk of his chin that she knows means come over here. She glances back to her family, making their way along with everyone else to the tent set up for the reception, and suddenly, whatever Joel’s offer may be is seeming much more appealing, already slinking off to the side and toward him. When she gets within arm’s length, he surprises her with a reach and tug to her forearm, pulling her along and behind the church, finding Tommy already partaking in what she supposes Joel wanted to rope her into.
“Hey, dipshit, I didn’t tell you to light up yet, did I? Have some manners, goddamn.” Tommy smiles sheepish, a thin seep of smoke coming out around the edges of his smile as Joel plucks the blunt from his fingers. He must be exceptionally bored, she thinks, to have wrangled her into this, considering that they haven’t spoken to each other much for the majority of sophomore year. 
“I would say ladies’ first, but seeing as someone started without us, I’ll just give you the next hit, Cher.” She knows he’s serious, holding the smoldering blunt out to her pinched between thumb and forefinger, but she still scoffs. 
“I can’t do that, Joel. If my mom smelled that on me she’d– well, I can’t do that.” He squints, shrugs. And she hates how beautiful he looks when he takes a languid hit, the top buttons of his rumpled dress shirt undone to display how the long line of his neck trembles with the inhale, the puff of his chest, and then that smooth slump when he lets the smoke out. 
“Suit yourself. Tom, Maureen said she’d dance with you–” Tommy’s eyes light up, an exclamation already hanging from his parted lips, though Joel cuts him off with a prim finger pointed in the air.
“If you catch her early. So, you know, best get on with it.” Tommy nods hard, gulps a thank you to Joel, and is off like lightning around the side of the church and toward the reception. She raises her brow at Joel. Another shrug, smug.
“He asked me to talk to Maureen for him.”
“You didn’t talk to Maureen, did you?” 
“Nope, he’ll figure that out for himself though. You sure you don’t want some of this?” He takes another hit, hissing out smoke as if to punctuate his question. 
“No, and if that’s all you called me over here for then I think I’d rather be over at the–” 
“Oh, c’mon, Cher. We can just talk, huh? It’s better than all that bullshit anyways. Look–” With that, he flicks the half-smoked blunt into the grass, stamping it out with the sole of his shoe.
“See? All gone, now we can be civil and proper just like your mama wants us to be.” His smile spreads, and she can’t help her own, finally sighing and leaning back against the side of the church, turning her head on her shoulder to look at him.
“What’d you think of the service?” He snorts, kicking the toe of his shoe into the grass, his gelled hair – Deedee’s work, no doubt – flopping and falling into his eyes. 
“Thought it was long. And I thought the groom looked about ready to hoof it.” It feels good to laugh after sitting still for so long, a quick flutter of it in her chest.
“He was sweating so much. And the way he messed up his vows?” Ever the entertainer Joel immediately goes into character, his grin dissolving, brow pinching down and mouth pulling into an over the top frown as he wrings his hands in front of him, the perfect pantomime of fret.
“In, uh, in health– no, in sickness and in health until, uh– what was it again? Oh, death– until death do us part. A–fucking–men.” He concludes with a slap to his thigh and a big bark of laughter, his head tilting to the side as he grins at her own guffaw.
“You make fun now, but just wait until you’re up there at the altar one day. I’d pay money to see that trainwreck.” 
“Not very nice, Cherry. And also, bold of you to assume I’m even gonna get married.” 
“Oh please, Joel. At the very least, I’m sure Deedee will eventually stick you with some nice girl from the Kiwanis Club.” His whole face scrunches up at that, an indignant sound crawling up the back of his throat as he shakes his head at her.
“Nah, nope, no, ma’am. Reckon I’m not really the marrying type.”
“How can you say that? You don’t even have your driver’s license yet.”
“Uh, yes I do. I got it last week.” He’s already fumbling in his back pocket, movements a little fuzzed around the edges from his couple of hits as he procures his wallet and waves his fresh license in her face.
“Nice mugshot.” He tuts, tucking his wallet away.
“Always so mean. I bet you’ll be a sight at the altar one day, Cher. Gotta be careful not to shred your pretty white dress up with all that bite.” The word bite comes out with a flashy flare of his canines, a dramatic snap of his jaw that makes her snort.
“I won’t have to worry about that, thank you very much.”
“Oh no?”
“No, I’m never getting married.” She regrets it the instant she says it, even though she means it, already bracing for Joel’s mimicry.
“How can you say that? You don’t even have your driver’s license yet.” High and nasally, though he cuts himself off with an oof when she shoves him in the shoulder.
“I got mine two months ago, so there.” He sighs, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he mirrors her stance, leaning back against the church with his shoulder brushing against hers.
“You really ain’t gonna get married, Cher?”
“Not if I can help it, you?” It must be the weed, she thinks, making his face fall and his eyes droop.
“Nah, it’d, uh, have to be someone real special to change my mind.”
“You think they’d notice if we sneaked off for a while?” She tries to keep her grin schooled, a hard task with Joel’s hands wandering down her hips, laying a squeeze to the swell of her thighs before skating back up, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back flush with his chest. 
“Hmm, the cake’s been cut, et cetera, et cetera. I think we could get away with it.” Joel hums, swaying her a little where they’re standing on their back porch, surveying their small but mighty reception. Ellie is dancing a clumsy waltz with Deedee, a few other family members around on the makeshift dance floor, everyone else talking in a haze of booze and sugar, slumped in their folding seats, napkins and plates stacked on the tables in front of them. And her and Joel are already slinking inside and up the steps. Giggling, entirely absurd, they don’t even make it to the bedroom, tangling and traipsing over each other into the bathroom, Joel kicking the door shut behind them as he crowds her up against the sink.
“Looked so beautiful today, I already tell you that?” Words humid and hotly murmured into her sternum, her laugh turns into a gasp when he noses up the column of her throat, teeth grazing that spot he so likes to grin into.
“You may have mentioned it. Not as pretty as you though, baby. All proper for me– oh, right there– waiting for me in your suit and tie.” Said suit and tie has long been shucked down to just his button-up and slacks, now untucked and rumpled, going lopsided with the way she fumbles down the first few buttons of his shirt. She can practically feel the heat flushing up his neck from her words, though Joel hides any bashfulness with a petulant smack to the side of her ass, quick to smooth when she jolts in his hold.
“Don’t tease, Cher, gotta be quick, huh? You gonna turn around for me and show me this pretty dress from the back?” The realization of just what that means settles in her mind, slanting her grin to the side as she shoves him back with a palm in the middle of his chest, for once, doing exactly as he asks and turning around to rest her palms on the counter. For posterity’s sake, she makes a show of it, arching her spine and spreading her stance a little wider, a little sway in her hips. She can’t help her snicker when Joel finally slides the satiny skirt of her dress up over her hips, his movements stuttering still as a quiet curse slips from his mouth.
“How— how long have you been like this?” She turns her gaze over her shoulder, maybe enjoying this too much in the slow bat of her lashes. Joel looks stricken, jaw slack and eyes wide.
“All day, baby, why do you ask?” 
“You’re telling me you walked down the aisle– in a house of God– like this?” She shrugs, leaning back into Joel’s palm that’s been idly palming her ass, her very bare ass. 
“Don’t tell Deedee.” His laugh comes out on a splutter, clearly unsure if he even should laugh in the first place, though she can’t help her own snort of amusement, soon the both of them dissolving into it, shoulders shaking and eyes crinkling up.
“You are trying to give me a fucking heart attack, goddamn.”
“Think of the lines, Joel, it would have ruined my outfit.” He just shakes his head, leaning over her to find a slanted kiss. And then the realization that yes, they still need to be quick about this, wedding guests downstairs and all that. A little bit of fumbling, and a preening sigh in the back of her throat when he drags the hot weight of his cock through the seam of her cunt.
“Who’s the freak now, huh, Cher?” She tries to laugh, but it’s more of a whine when his hips finally settle against the plush of her ass, so deep that she can’t help but lift up onto her toes, Joel holding her steady with a palm clutching at her breast.
“You’re the one that married the freak.”
“Damn right I did.” 
Not romantic at all. Quick, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin with the way she bounces back to meet his thrusts. And no, not so young anymore, so it isn’t long before they’re both biting back moans, a small hit to hold them over before the guests leave. They slump down against each other in the aftermath, hazy smiles and breaths that try at laughs, Joel pressing his lips to the top of her shoulder, the side of her neck, her temple. 
“Love you, freak.” 
“You were the freak first, Miller.”
“I believe the correct response is love you too, actually.” Still framing her against the counter, his hand comes to rest over top of hers, fiddling a bit with the ring on her finger.
“Yeah, that too.” He scoffs rubbing his scruff against her cheek with the way he shakes his head at her. It’s annoying how quickly she folds for him, turning around in his hold, a shaky two-step to finally look at him. 
“You know I do, baby. I wouldn’t do this with anyone else.” She punctuates her words with a kiss, small and simple, feeling his hum beneath her palm on his chest. 
“Me too, Cherry. Only ever imagined it with you.” 
...........................................
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sapphos-ode · 11 months
Text
Voices
Alcina Dimitrescu Find part 1 here
So, someone did request a part two. But tumblr ate the draft I made with the ask. So apologies and I hope the blog finds this.
~
“The Lady prefers blood in a little jug, she likes to add it herself,” a voice came from outside, muffled but clear enough to make out what was said.
Alcina’s head snapped over to the door of the library, her daughters looked over to her. Mild curiosity on their faces.
“Thank you, I’ll go remake the tea now,” a second voice piped up from behind the door.
“It’s alright,” the countess could practically hear the reassuring smile in your voice
Alcina recognised the voice from yesterday. She had woken up today feeling significantly better and much less lethargic. To make up for missing dinner, she had set aside her work in favour of spending the day with her daughters.
Without wasting a second she rushed to the door. Peeking her head out and looking both ways down the hallway. Only to see it empty.
“Mama?”
Alcina resigned herself to the fact that you had disappeared. She closed the door and retook her seat.
“Sorry my little flies, I thought I heard something,”
Bela exchanged a glance at Cassandra who just shrugged.
“Now! Where were we?” Alcina refocused her attention back on her girls. They had chosen to play cards.
“You were just about to lose, catastrophically!” Daniela erupted, slamming her cards down to show a winning hand. Groans followed from her sisters and Alcina could be heard muttering. She had always been a sore loser.
~
Alcina had excused herself an hour before dinner, but promised the trio of terror that she would be joining them. She sat in her room, looking over a few reports with disinterest, a pair of delicate metal framed glasses perched on her nose.
Her eyes flitted over to the door when she heard the door click open. Her breath suspended as she waited for whoever it was to enter her room. A maid, timid and docile slipped and and then instantly froze when she saw the Countess.
“I’m so- I’m so sorry for disturbing you my lady!” The words came out rushed. Her voice was a little raspy and had a timbre far too low to be yours.
Alcina grunted dismissively before brushing past the dumbfounded maid to leave. She had hoped it would be you who would tend to her room like you had yesterday.
~
Usually you helped with the dinner service in the dining room, but the Chef had asked for help with a new dish she wanted to serve, and you were amongst the scant few maids who didn’t keel over at the sight of human flesh. Personally, you thought it looked no different to a breast of chicken or a lion of beef. So you were taken off the service to help behind the scenes.
Upstairs in the dining room, Alcina seemed to find a multitude of small things that needed seen to. And she asked a different maid each time, as she went through each one. Hoping to hear your voice again, she was met with disappointment. After the last maid she had asked spoke she instantly had changed her mind. No longer requiring a new knife.
Her daughters had exchanged questioning looks but eventually shrugged it off. Their mother could be rather eccentric. They did love her for it.
~
The Dimitrescu family spent the evening reading their own books in the library, simply enjoying each other’s presence and the warmth of the fire.
~
Alcina’s week seemed to follow a pattern, she hadn’t given up her search for you. But with only a voice to go off of, it was hard. Many a times she heard you talking, usually to another maid. But she seemed to have horrible timing. Always missing you by mere seconds.
The closest she had got was hearing your voice as she walked to her office. She had instantly taken a detour only to see the hem of your skirt disappear into one of the servant’s passageways.
The countess briefly entertained the idea of having every member of staff line up and read from some book. Like some sort of police line up.
What she had managed to gather was you had some sort of seniority amongst the castle staff. A lot of them turned to you for advice or guidance pertaining the upkeep of the castle and how to navigate her and her daughters without being killed.
~
With winter settling in Alcina had ordered all staff to ensure a fire was ablaze in every room of the castle.
It was early morning, too early for even the maids to be up. Alcina couldn’t sleep and decided to get a head start on paperwork for the day.
She had only been in her office for about ten minutes before a knock came at the door.
“Enter,” the countess didn’t bother to look up from her desk.
She had a small lamp on whilst the rest of the room was basked in darkness. A slight chill to the air. She didn’t mind, about the cold, her daughters were asleep and she had maids maintaining fires in each of their rooms throughout the night.
You slip in quietly, bowing your head at her before making a beeline for the hearth. Procuring a match book from your apron you make fast work of coaxing a roaring flame which settled quickly before evolving into a steady fire.
“Sorry for disturbing you My lady, I heard you passing by and didn’t want you to catch a cold,” you hum softly before closing the door behind you.
Alcina’s too shocked to move. That voice, she could finally put a face to… if she had actually looked up.
“Wait!”
You hear the Countess and stop in your tracks, a little way down the corridor from her office door. Looking over your shoulder confused. You wait a second before continuing on your way.
Until you heard the Countess all but bust her door down. The loud crash rang through the castle as you jumped in shock. Your body freezing before you realised what had happened. And when you had been able to move and turned around to assess the situation, your Lady was standing right in front of you.
You took a few steps back to lessen how much you had to crane your neck.
“My lady? Is everything okay?”
The countess is just staring down at you, breathing heavily. You purse your lips about to speak. To coax her to say something but she does so before you can.
“Finally,” she breathes out. Studying your face. You were breathtaking, Alcina instantly loved everything about you.
Is this how you die? For? Keeping the countess warm? ‘That’s rough buddy,’ is all you can think.
“My lady, is everything alright?”
The Countess’ next action takes you by complete shock. Not only does she kneel in front of you to be closer to your height. But she reaches out for your hand and brings it to her face. Making you caress her cheek. And she seems to nuzzle into your touch.
You have no objection to this. But you are severely confused. You step a little closer to her and bring your other hand up to cup her face.
“I’ve been trying to find you, all week,” Alcina’s voice is quiet, as if you’d disappear if she spoke too loudly.
“You have? What for,” you speak equally as tentatively as the countess. You have an inkling as to why. But you were just looking after your, admittedly beloved, employer. Is what you told yourself. Nothing more and nothing less.
“I- ” Alcina’s voice trailed off. What could she say? ‘Hi I’m Alcina and I eat people but I really liked being held and looked after by you’ ?
“My Lady, let’s get you a proper seat,” you go to move your hands but the countess grabs your wrists. Keeping your hands on her face.
God, she could melt at the soft gaze you looked at her with. Muddled with concern, but she loved being the centre of your attention.
“I…” the countess tries again, “I appreciate what you did for me, last week,” she averts her gaze. Suddenly too shy to look you in the eyes.
“Oh,” you chuckle at her. It’s a warm sound and Alcina wishes to hear it more often.
“I regret not opening my eyes to see who you were,” Alcina shuffles a little, sorely aware of how unlike herself she’s behaving. On her knees in front of a maid? Hell must have frozen over.
“I’ve been hearing your voice for days now, but every time you managed to slip away,” Alcina pushes on, “you’re an elusive little thing,”
You giggle at that, “well, you finally caught me,” you give her a playful look, “what are you going to do me now,”
Alcina can’t help the blush on her cheeks.
You manage to convince the lady to move to her office. Enjoying the warmth of the fire as you sit on the couch. You had coaxed her into lying down on the sofa, resting her head on your lap so you could rub your hand through her hair. Her curls were soft, and Alcina was delighted to be held like this.
Your eyes roam her face as she smiles up at you, you’re studying the crows feet at the corner of eyes, then the faint line that has taken its place between her brow. No doubt from all the infuriating conversations she’s had to endure with Lord Heisenberg. It is then that you notice a red patch forming on her forehead. She catches on to you staring at something and raised a brow prompting you to speak your mind.
“Did you hit your forehead? Earlier, when you ran out your office?”
Silence.
“No,”
Alcina pouts at you. Pointedly looking away in a faux huff. You stifle a laugh at her, before pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“You’re a terrible liar my Lady,”
~
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writingsfromhome · 9 months
Text
School Photos
A/N: just a quick fluff one-shot to get me back online. happy August and fellow Leo season.
————————————————
“Please!” He begs for the umpteenth time. “Just one picture! I just wanna see one!”
“No! Mum look at me, all albums will be burned if you show anything.”
My family chuckles at my persistence but I was serious. Bringing home my uni boyfriend was going good so far. The only thing I had to avoid was him seeing pictures of me as a child.
“She had braces, even had to wear the headgear sometimes.” My brother teases.
“Shut up!” I glare.
“Yeah and she was obsessed with dolphins so anything she wore had them. And if they didn’t—mom didn’t she have these pictures you ironed on for her.”
“Oh!” Mom gasps. “I remember! The patches, the dolphin patches she bought from that one store um-“
“Remember when she wanted a mole so bad like Aunt Jess that she drew one on.”
“No way, I need to see the proof.” Harry grins, taking in my humiliation like a chilled glass of wine.
“She did it the whole summer until I told her it looked like shit on her face.” My brother says. “It was a kindness now that she looks back right yn?”
“Oh aren’t you Mother Teressa.” I mock. I didn’t want Harry to see me like this either—bothered and acting childish with my brothers but I had to pick and choose my battles here.
“Ok lay off her now boys, let us enjoy the pie your mum made.” My dad swoops to my rescue and I give him an appreciative smile.
“Daddy’s girl.” My brother mutters. Mom scolds him but she’s biting back a laugh. Ugh my family was infuriating.
Since we’d arrived late, right before dinner, Harry hadn’t seen my childhood bedroom so once we’re done around the table we head upstairs.
In between dinner and dessert I’d rushed up with an excuse for the loo and made sure to hide any evidence of my face between the ages of 5-16 in my room.
Now, I give Harry a tour of my childhood bedroom.
“I can imagine you sitting here sketching,” Harry brushes his hand along the oak desk dad had built for me in year 4 and has sat against the window since.
So much of my history lived in all these objects. I was happy that Harry could see it all laid out here, know the past parts of me he couldn’t exactly meet.
Not that he needed to see physical copies of all my past parts.
“And this is my shrine to Jesse McCartney.” I open the top drawer meant for pencils and small items but instead a poster of his face was glued down and tiny trinkets laid around including the ticket from the I went to one of his performances.
“So this is your man on the side. Keeping him tucked away at home hm?” Harry tugs the drawer more to reveal all of my teenage crazy.
“I was obsessed. He’s still a very attractive man.”
“That’s weird.”
“What? That he’s attractive?”
“No, he looks nothing like me.”
“Why would he-“ I roll my eyes when I realize what he’s getting at. “Well you should be flattered you don’t look like my childhood celeb crush. That’d be creepy.”
“I think this is a little creepy.” Harry crosses his arms and leans against the table. I take him in where he stands; he felt so much bigger than my childhood bedroom.
“It’s what teenage girls do. Ask your sister I’m sure she had one of these too.”
“So you’re okay showing me this,” Harry tugs my hand. “But not any pictures of you-“
“No. That’s not happening.”
“I promise I’ll still love you.”
“They’re just embarrassing!” I whine. “I always had a phase I was going through. I don’t want you to see any of them.”
“Why?” He cups my face. “It makes you interesting! I showed you the phase where I spiked my hair every day and thought I was in a boy band.”
“Your hair didn’t even spike,” I laugh into his chest, remembering the photo I had taken a copy of with my phone. His hair had looked like he woken up and taken a chainsaw to it.
“See you’re allowed to laugh at me!”
“Nooo,” I wrap my arms around his waist. “No photos. Now subject change: we’re meeting all my friends tomorrow so what do you want to do today?”
“I can crash.” Harry says. He brushes my hair back and gives my head a kiss. “Driving for 4 hours was more tiring than I thought.”
“Okay,” I was fine with cuddling and going to bed even though it was only 9. As long as I was with Harry, everything felt fun. We’d been dating for over a year now and I loved him in a way I never loved boyfriends from the past. I think he was the real deal.
We lie on my small bed and talk until we doze off. The next morning we wake to the smell of breakfast and my parents spoil us with food and laughter.
I give Harry a tour of my hometown before we meet with my friends from school. Everyone and their partners love Harry and I can’t help but beam as he fits seamlessly into the other half of my life.
He catches my eye every now and then and the smile he gives me makes me fall in love with him all over again.
After an evening spent with family at home and another early night, Harry and I head out to go back to uni the following morning.
Goodbyes are long and multiple hugs are involved all around.
As we settle in and head back onto the motorway, Harry points to the sun visor.
“Sun in your eye?”
“No?”
“Why don’t you flip it down?”
“It’s not?” I look him over. Was he okay?
“Just flip it down yeah? In case.”
“Okay?” I slowly flip the visor down and I gasp. “How could you?”
His laughter fills the car as I stare in horror. Tucked into the mirror is a school picture of me, probably Year 6. My braces are full on while I grimace-not even smile-into the camera. I’m wearing a tie-dye dolphin shirt with dolphin clips in my hair. My hair is in plaits except one of them is already fallen out; I’d probably been rough on the playground. It’s all topped off by a silver chunky chain I’d stolen from my brother—thinking it was real silver and would make me look cool.
“It’s my favourite picture of you,” Harry plucks it off and I realize I should have nabbed it while he was laughing. “I don’t think anything can top it really.”
“Harry I beg you to give that back.”
“Nope.” Harry pops the p with joy. He tucks it into his shirt pocket.
“Harry!”
“I love you. Looking at the picture just makes me love you more.” He glances over at me and pats my thigh. “Can you smile like that for me?”
“This is so unfair!” I cross my arms and face the front. “Who betrayed me?!”
“My lips are sealed.” He was having too much fun. I would get my family to crack—dad would probably tell me. Unless it was him.
“I’m gonna go for her for Halloween.” Harry says, trying to get through my wall of silence.
“Fine.” I sit up with an idea and flick through my phone for the picture I’d been keeping. “I’ll go as him.”
I wait for Harry to look over at me and gloat when his face falls.
“You’re not supposed to have a copy of that!”
“Well. We’re even now.”
I plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, feeling better already.
“You’re so lucky I’m driving.”
“You’re lucky or I would have wrestled that photo away from you ages ago.” I say and Harry looks at me skeptically. “I grew up with brothers don’t underestimate me.”
“Fine. Fine. We’re even.” Harry agrees. “And for the record. I love you. And I love her too.”
It’s true that what he says thaws me a little, the little girl in me, but I don’t let it show right now. I just look out the window and mumble a love you too. His hand comes down on my thigh and, still looking out the window, I intertwine our fingers. He could drive me crazy but it was true for me too. As much as I laughed at his photo, I loved him and that little boy too.
“You’re never visiting my parents ever again.” I tell him.
His only response is bringing our hands to his mouth.
I melt in my seat a little.
Whatever.
162 notes · View notes
Text
Daddy's Girl.
"i wouldn't say i called it if i hadn't. but i called it when i said it was a sick joke"
karma akabane x spoiled!reader.
content: smut, mention of weed, smoking, getting high, innocent reader, corruption, "daddy", bully!karma, enemies to lovers ig, belly bulge.
hey guys!! first karma post. also first post on the new "EARTH'S GRIMEY CRIES" page!! i lately have taken interest in the color palette for cyan, blue, dark blue, and darker shades of red. "The Delicate Sound Of Thunder" live concert by pink floyd was an influence on this particular page design, and i love it. it's always nice that i can create a whole new page when i get out of room on my navigation centers, or when i want to. hopefully my sp fans aren't too upset that i want to write about other shows/people!! i'll be posting drafts and finishing requests soon.
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karma is such an asshole.
to everyone, not even just you.
having not known him pained you as you thought he'd hated you for no reason other than you're a "taut daddy's girl who gets daddy's money". which was unreliable truth that nobody except select few in the entire school system knew. karma was one of those people.
he knows everything about everyone, it's terrifying, honestly.
"talk of that brat" karma scoffs as you walk over to talk to your tutor, nagisa, who'd oddly enough been on speaking terms with karma regardless of their differences and past experiences.
"nagisa, i got a b on our recent test, can you help me more in the future?"
"i don't see why no—"
"maybe if instead of buying you ponies, your daddy bought you an education; you wouldn't be in such a pickle, darling."
you sigh and walk away, assuming the help is useless anyway, and karma was right. you were just not bright when it came to academics because you were raised with everything a kid dreams of.
but he catches up to you.
"no hard feelings, princess?"
"no hard feelings? asshole. what is with you? can't you leave me alone?" you scoff and continue to walk, not bothering to eye him.
he sighs and jogs slightly to catch up with you. "alright– listen, i got an a+ on the recent test.. alright? let me help you."
"you? offering to help me? what kind of sick joke?"
"it's not a joke. come to mine at.. say seven." karma stops walking beside you to go find someone else to bother.
i wouldn't say i called it if i hadn't. but i called it when i said it was a sick joke.
you showed up at karma's doorstep at 7:00 PM, like he'd told you to. alarming detail being no cars in the driveway, where his parents cars are usually parked.
he'd opened the door. "hey princess. make yourself at home, you might be here a while." he invites you in with his usual sarcastic tone you hated.
"want like.. water? sorry it's not sparkly or whatever i don't drink that weird shit." he says as he grabs a glass and fills it with water, handing it to you.
karma starts to head upstairs and so you follow him into his room that's weirdly tidy and large.
karma was not poor, in fact his parents made the same money your dad did. just, karma took individuality when it came to money. decided to get a job at a young age and has been making his own money ever since and even bought his own car.
you didn't do that. you were always handed everything, so you grew up differently than karma. or at least with a different mindset.
"your room is nice." you compliment awkwardly to fill the silence as you just stand in the middle of the clean wooden floors.
"uh, are you gonna sit down or just stand there?" he tilts his head and chuckles, patting the spot right next to him on his bed.
you place your cup down on a table and cough softly even though you didn't need to, heading over slowly and sitting down fairly far from him.
but that distance didn't stay when he scooted closer anyway. "so! what's the score ya got on the test?"
"hey wait. why do you make fun of me all the time? for.. being fortunate i guess."
karma stays in silence for a moment before laughing. "you.." he pokes your chest and doesn't look into your eyes as he talks. "you aren't the fortunate one. your daddy is, and you take advantage of it.. that's what i make fun of."
you look down at his hand that lay still in your lap and grab it with your own hand. "i never got to know what it was like to be a teenager because my dad was strict. he used money to keep me away from the public, sex, drugs, parties, everything. that's not my fault."
he doesn't say anything for a couple seconds before he looks into your eyes. "huh. so you have never done any of that?"
you nod 'no'.
"hah! baby do you have a lot i need to teach you. to hell with the stupid test that we already did." karma laughs. "you've never even gone to a party?"
"nope."
"shit. you're such a virgin." he laughs and you look down in embarrassment. but he brings a hand to your chin and makes you look back up at him. "hey, no need to be embarrassed. hey let me help you."
"help me with what?"
"you ever wanted to get high?" karma asks, opening a drawer before taking out a pen. "this makes you tired, jus'so you know. your daddy cool if you stay the night? because baby you'll be out."
"mhm." you nod and bite your lip, shifting the way you're sitting in excitement. you always wanted to get high but never had the chance.
"you're ampy. guess my little innocent girl's not gonna be so innocent anymore, huh?"
my? you'd wonder about what he'd meant. but you didn't care because it made you feel good; at least in the way you took it.
he holds the pen up to your mouth. "breathe in.. then.. breathe in again. that's the only way i can really explain it to you."
and with that you took it to your mouth and did as he told you. "take another hit. but that's it, this can be strong and i don't know your tolerance, baby."
after you take another, you watch as he takes his and after that, it starts to hit you. the room starts moving into .5 and it's all zoomed out. it's cool, nothing like you'd ever experienced before.
you start to giggle.
"mhmm. you okay, baby?" karma asks and you nod, moving closer to him.
"uhuh. hey. what's next?" you ask, crawling into his lap and laying on him in tiredness.
"what do you mean, what's next?" he asks, rubbing my arm and conforting me. this was the sweetest karma had ever been.
"well you said— you said you were gon' teach me stuff. can teach me bout sex. take it from me?" you didn't even know what you were saying, or that it would affect you tomorrow. and you didn't care.
karma chuckles lowly and lays me down. "you're tired, can see it in your eyes."
"fuck me to sleep." you sit up and grab at the hair at the base of his neck, pulling on it before pulling his face into yours, kissing him softly. "please— all i wan' right now is you."
he takes his hands and parts your legs and rests himself between them, laying you back down to lean over you as he kisses down your neck, playing with the hem of your shirt.
through your shorts you felt the bulge inside his jeans pressing against your clothed core. you wanted it so bad. you take your hands to his face and pull him back up to kiss your lips.
whispering into his mouth "please, need you so bad.. karma."
now that he knew you knew what you were doing and with who, he went feral. he took off your shirt and unzipped your jean shorts.
you trace his jawline with your fingers and admire his pretty face as he removes his own clothes.
not long later his tip is pressed against your entrance. "are you sure you want this, baby?"
with one nod he thrusts into you painfully and your back arches as you moan loudly. he doesn't give you time to adjust as he starts thrusting at a quick paste.
your moans are loud and you scratch at his biceps and his back as tears prick your lash line.
"fuck karma— please.." you moan as he uses his thumb to play with your clit as the rest of his fingers press down on your lower abdomin, creating intense pleasure. the bulge in your belly was felt on his finger tips.
"oh, baby moan louder.. let my neighbors hear who fucking owns you.."
"fuck!! ugh—karma please please please please fuck harder." you moan out loudly, pushing him down into your chest and locking your legs around his waist so he can't pull out.
"baby don't do that.. im gonna cum soon." both hands go to your thighs so even if you tried to take them off you couldn't because he holds your legs firmly there, against his own command. "you're— real tense!" he squeezes his abs in a groan from the throat. "you're gonna cum?"
"mmmmhmm." you whine and nod, tears streaming down your face with all the pleasure.
"fuck im gonna breed you all good.. fill ya full with daddy's cum, yeah? you're mine, you know that? huh? tell me you're all mine." he groans and whines at you in a needy voice that makes your orgasm peak.
"all yours–! 'm cummin'!"
"god yes, cum with me baby." he groans and you release together, heavy breathing and leftover moans fill the room as they echo against the walls.
karma pulls out and falls beside you, who's about to be sleeping mind you.
"hey wait, don't you fall asleep. knew indica would get ya like this.. it always does with first timers." he sighs and gets up, grabbing a towel and walking back over to you, half lidded and looking up at him with dried mascara tear stained cheeks.
karma smiles softly at your expression once he knows you can't see him, rubbing the towel on your thighs and everywhere between your legs. he grabs a shirt and helps you sit up, putting it on you and grabbing your panties, that he also puts on you before laying you back down.
he lays beside you and you drag heavy limbs to snuggle into his chest and side. "thanks.. for all this. guess im not your little innocent girl no more."
"you're still my girl.. told ya that, didn't i?" he says and you giggle softly, nodding into his chest. "good, so.. you're my not-so-innocent little girl now, huh?"
238 notes · View notes
lvlyghost · 11 months
Text
Salvation
Pairings: John Price x F!Reader
Summary: after a few months since his last visit, john finally gets the chance to see the girl.
Word Count: 1.7k
tw: fluff, angst, allusion to human trafficking, NCA, terrified girls. nothing too descriptive. bad english and poor grammar as usual. if i missed anything just lmk💕
A/N: so this took a little longer since it was supposed to come out during the weekend. i was planning on making it longer but didn't, maybe a second part could happen🐸 anyway, i love price✨🩵!
Masterlist✨ | Part 2
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She hears it while cooking her homemade cherry pie. As far as she recalls, no one was supposed to come today. No. Officer Davis came that morning at eight o'clock like he always did. He had handed her some new books she's been wanting to read for a few months now and was kind enough to buy for her.
Since she wasn't allowed to give her address to anyone,and let alone type it on some random website, she was always asking officer Davis for favors. He was truly an amazing man. Although, even if they ever let her do such thing, giver her some freedom, who would want to go to the house in the middle of the forest to drop off a package?
Freedom. She scoffs. Such a strange word.
Making her way out of the room she walks towards the front door, but not before taking the remote that was given to her by the NCA. All it takes is pressing the red button twice and she'll have the whole police in her doorway. She stands behind the white wooden door, hesitating. Her heart begins to race, feeling it beat against her ribcage.
What if someone had finally found her location?
I can't go back there.
Frozen in her place, hand barely touching the doorknob and tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.
"It's me, sweetheart." A deep voice comes from the other side. "It's okay. I'm sorry for not coming sooner."
John.
She mumbles his name, like a prayer, and then opens the door.
He stands there, tall and broad. The same baby blues that saved her a year ago looking back at her. The lines on his forehead soften at the mere sight of the girl. He's wearing that black beanie that once sat atop of her head when the winter had begun that first time he visited her here.
The only other one that knew where to find her. Because she knew, they all knew, he'd do anything for her.
-
John can hear the river outside the old house. The rustling of leaves moving against the wind, soon it'll be dark. The humid weather making his green shirt stick to his skin layered with sweat. He inhales deeply. This mission. This fucking mission has been going far too long. But everything they found les the task force to this very place. He goes room by room, entering with his gun aiming ahead and the safety off. Always.
Despite not having execute authority he wanted nothing more than to put several bullets in their bodies. Whomever they were.
A creak echoes on the second floor so he rushes upstairs stealthily. The place above doesn't look much better that the bottom part of the house. There's a weird smell in the air. Like blood and death.
After checking the first room, the bathroom and all the cabinets just in case he sighs.
"Only got one room left to check. Anything out there?" He waits for an answer, in the middle of the bedroom. The mattress was torn and dirty. He thinks of all the atrocities that must've taken place there.
"Negative, Captain. Got you on my sight just in case." Ghost's monotone voice interrupts the eerie silence engulfing his surroundings.
"Copy."
The radio dies and John walks to the next door across the hallway. Except it's locked.
Of course.
"Last door locked. I'm going in. Gaz, Soap you're in position?" He asks
"Aye sir. Both ready."
Next thing that happens is a bullet. He shoots the doorknob and the door bursts open with a loud sound of his firearm.
And screams.
Terrified screams and cries from... girls. At least seven of them. Price swallows hard, his eyes scanning the room when they land on the girl shielding a younger one. She's terrified, shaking, yet still looks him in the eye imploring to be saved.
-
She's hugging him in an instant, almost making him stumble back on his steps, but embraces her body nevertheless.
"What took you so long?" She asks, her face resting on his hard chest. Price can feel the softness of her skin against his calloused hands.
"Special Ops." She smells like strawberry and caramels. Pulling away so he can look her in the eyes. "How're you doin' love?"
Her heart skips a beat. Never gets tired of hearing Price calling her that.
"Come in and I'll tell you."
Taking his hand she guides him to the kitchen where the pie is almost finished. John drops his duffel bag on the wooden floor, contemplating her small form moving around effortlessly.
"I got some new books this morning. Turns out I've been missing a lot. Davis was kind enough to bring them since... you know." She shrugs.
"They're still not letting you out?" He asks with a serious tone.
"Nah. Might be dangerous." Taking out the pie from the oven she places it on the counter between the two. Price doesn't say anything for a moment, merely looking at her, pondering. "The boys are alright?"
"Yeah." He nods,"Had to drag one or two out of a burning building but that's not new."
She laughs softly, taking a seat, motioning for him to do the same. He obliges.
"How long do you think they'll keep me here, John?" It's a genuine question. It's only been a few months. A year, almost.
"Love..." he sighs. "It's complicated. I don't know much."
"Yeah but, but once they're all captured..." she stammered.
Price could never say he understands what she's going through. What she endured was beyond him. Whenever he thought of it it just made him want burn the fucking bastards. All of them.
"I promise you this. Once it's safe for you I'll personally come and give you the news. And we'll go wherever you desire, yeah?" Although it's not entirely what she wanted, she could wait a little bit longer. John had never let her down. He saved her and in all honesty she'd trust him with her life. "I'll tell you what." He stands up, making the small kitchen look even smaller with his tall form. "Have you heard about the town fair?"
Her eyes light up.
"No... is, is that..."
"Let's go." She doesn't move. "Why don't you go get ready."
"John, I'm not supposed to leave the house you know that, I mean I want to, but... you said..." She's mortified, yet excited. A breath of fresh air. That's what that man meant for her. No one ever cared about her like he did.
"I've got contacts, love. I don't need their permission. For all that matters you're safer with me. Come on, out we go." He points to the front door. "I'm a patient man but don't keep me waiting for too long eh."
-
He was right.
It was a sight to behold.
John watches her eating the snack he got for her. She loved sweets so much therefore he couldn't let this opportunity pass. When was the last time she got to experience something like this? Sometimes so simple.
Something so mundane.
Her eyes are glimmering whenever she looks at the different attractions at the fair. John takes a long drink from his beer bottle. Right hand finding her lower back whenever she's about to bump into some other person when she's distracted.
"You like it huh?" She looks at him confused. He points the stuffed otter in her left hand. A smile crossed her features.
"I do. And I still don't know how you did it... I mean, I guess being in the military does help when you try to shoot a moving horse toy at the fair to win something." She laughs, embarrassed about what she just said. She thinks she sounds stupid, almost making her want to hit her head against the nearest tree.
He smiles, the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes more prominent than the last time she'd seen him.
"I guess it does, love." He agrees wholeheartedly.
"How long are you going to stay?"
Price looks down at her when she stops before the ferris wheel. The wind blows her hair swiftly. What was that in the air? Her perfume?
"For as long as I can, dear." He takes a strand of hair in his hand, and gently put it behind her ear.
There she is.
"John..." she breathes. "I feel so lonely when you're gone." The grip on the stuffed animal tightens. "I've no one. If it wasn't for you..."
"No." He gently reprimands her. "Don't say another word. With or without me you'll be fine, love."
"What if I don't want to be fine when you're not around?" He's silent, yet his mind is so loud. "You saved me, John." She states. "Any other person would just continue with their lives. You were just doing your job. Another one in the endless missions you're assigned." Swallowing, she asks: "Why are you still here? Why do you keep coming back?"
He doesn't answer the question right away, instead looks over her head, lost in his own thoughts as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. He then clears his throat and looks back at her, who's waiting with wide eyes and lips slightly parted. She was right. Any other day John would've turned page. He would sure remember, after all these are stories that will stick with him until his last day. What made this mission different?
"I think you know bloody well why."
-
Price helps her sit inside the helicopter to get medical attention. Feeling her weak body trembling even under the black blanket she was tightly wrapped in. He had carried her body all the way outside from that house when she collapsed. The adrenaline running through her system disappearing when she realized they were being rescued at last.
Simon had side eyed his Captain when he didn't let anyone take the girl from him. Why her? He couldn't say. So he went away and led one of the other girls out of there instead with Soap's help.
"There's nothing to be afraid anymore, kid." He reassured her, voice soft trying not to startle her more than she already was. "We got you. All of you."
Her big eyes once terrified and filled with tears of despair finally saw the light at the end. It was him. What she always prayed for. Salvation.
It was staring back at her.
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sterekmpreg · 1 year
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big brother eli headcanons?
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1.) Eli, being newly 16 years old by the time he gets a little sister and brother, was terrified by the thought of a baby being around the house, let alone two. He kind of treats his mom like a fragile piece of glass while Stiles is pregnant. Avoiding hugging Stiles and he and his father both watching after the human like he was going to break at any moment, even if it drives Stiles’ crazy and makes him snap at his his husband and son to fuck off multiple times a day.
2.) Eli helps Derek set up the nursery in one of the spare bedrooms when Stiles is taking a nap one day and it's the first time Derek sees Eli being actually excited about the babies instead of off-put and nervous. Eli had even chosen the nursery theme as Winnie The Pooh because, “that's was mom’s when he was a baby.” Derek couldn't have been more excited to finally have a nursery that wasn't over-packed with wolf-themed onesies, blankets, and toys like Eli’s had been. That had driven him nuts... And Derek was pretty sure that's why Stiles had done it.
3.) When Stiles goes into labor in the middle of the night Derek calls Peter and Chris over to watch Eli. Eli wakes up and is nervous and skittish all day until Uncle Peter’s phone rings. It was his dad. “Stiles did great! It’s another boy and a girl!” Derek says while Chris puts the call on speakerphone. Eli can hear the screaming babies in the background and hear his mother crying but he just smiles brightly at his uncles.
4.) When Derek and Stiles return home with the twins, Eli can't keep his hands off them. They were “so cute and tiny,” as he puts it. Stiles is quick to remind him he was smaller which gets a laugh out of Derek who is handing the fussy baby boy to Eli carefully, reminding him to sit down and be careful.
5.) Eli always volunteers to babysit, which shocks his parents, but they are happy nonetheless that Eli has taken to brotherhood so easily and confidently. He's usually always by their side, as if he's scared they were just going to evaporate one night. Derek and Stiles have even caught him sleeping on the carpeted nursery floor on more than one occasion. “They were fussy and you guys needed sleep,” was always the excuse.
6.) When the twins get a bit older, Eli is always playing with them and letting the little toddlers chase him around the house. They've even nearly taken Stiles and Derek down numerous times with how fast they've run after each other.
7.) Eli chose a college closest to home so he wouldn't miss out on his sibling growing up and he's more than happy to live at home during it too. “I'm saving money,” Eli says but both Stiles and Derek knew it was because their children had formed such a strong bond that Eli would never be too far away from them for a long period of time.
8.) When his little sister's eye glows a bright yellow back him while he was playing peek a boo he nearly loses it and is excited to brag that he saw it before even his parents and Derek can't help but see Luara a little bit inside Eli with how he acted around the two toddlers.
9.) The pack tries to get his little brother to show any sign of being a werewolf for years and all but gives up until one day Eli is playing hide and seek with him and he all but disappears in front of everyone only for them to hear giggling and clapping from upstairs. “Oh! That little fucker isn’t like dad, he's like mom!” Eli shouts excitedly as he runs up the stairs behind his absolutely frantic and worried parents. And he was right, Deaton confirming what Eli had said. The little boy not only looked just like his mom, but had inherited Stiles magic as well.
10.) Eli’s camera roll might(absolutely) has more pictures of the twins than anything else.
11.) The twins sometimes throw fits when they don’t get their way like having candy before dinner and Eli sneaks them some to calm them down.
12.) When he comes home for the pack cook out and finds his sister/brother crying because their boyfriend/girlfriend cheated on them he claws ‘I have an STD’ into the side of the fuckers car and tells his grandpa, “the dude is a serious douche,” with a defensive tone and face as an excuse when he gets caught leaving the parking lot.
13.) Eli absolutely goes Feral whenever he finds out his siblings are getting picked on. Bashing in car windows and popping tires in the school parking lot of the assholes who dared fuck with his family and acts surprised when they tell him about what had happened to the bullies cars. Derek and Stiles share a look and then shrug. “Good job,” Derek whispers as he pats Eli on the shoulder and Stiles just smirks knowingly at him.
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ms0milk · 1 year
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𝟕 | 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭
ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader
"Caramel hathos fills your mouth when red eyes let you breathe again."
cw remember when i told you to trust me? angry bkg, angry y/n, shouting, some manhandling. repeated use of "sir" nonsexually though bkg does briefly take pleasure in your power imbalance. y/n's patience is unmatched bless her heart. civil teammates -> enemies. my favorite closing lines ive ever written 2.1k
this chapter officially concludes a hymn to black water part 1, thank you for reading this far with me! and have no fear, part 2 will begin next week :) can't take a break from this story who am i kidding it's just getting good
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She’s been terrorizing you for the better part of the evening. Doctor Chiyo Shuzenji, Takoba’s infamous: Recovery Girl. An evening meant to be spent finding clothes and dinner and Prince Bakugou’s guest chambers so that you could take up your first shift outside of his room.
How could you begin to thank him? Declarations and taken knees occupy the gray space in your brain between constant kisses and ramblings about antivenom. You’re held hostage on hospital linens with thoughts of protective canonfire rage.
“And when I got back– poof! Injured Alderans keep me up all night, I leave for one blessed hour, and come back to six empty beds.”
There’s nothing you can say to appease the doctor as a plate of tea sandwiches is thrust into your lap and the kisses begin again. Your companions were moved to their permanent rooms sometime in the throne room-interim and you were just as surprised to come back to a hospital empty of their warmth as you were to hear such a commanding voice come out of such a tiny woman. Shuzenji's magic bubbles at the surface of your skin like it would be comforting if she wasn’t so agitated.
“How you even managed to stay conscious is– it’s– you’re lucky the adrenaline didn’t course the poison straight to your heart! And the prince! Summoning you from the hospital of all places–”
“My prince?” You interrupt with half a mouth full of bread.
She shakes her head, “The little Todoroki.”
“I thought I was summoned by the queen?”
“My queen is not stupid.”
You submit to treatment again quietly and nurse the plate of food Shuzenji had rushed from the kitchens for you. Was Prince Todoroki in the crowd today? Does he look like his mother? Spiderlace has webbed across your image of the queen and naught but her thin silver hair can be seen behind it.
The doorknob jumps as the doctor pours herself into your discharge instructions, and when she thinks the Champion is the one trying to sneak inside again she huffs at the opening door,
“Mr. Eijirou, if you interrupt this examination one more time–”
It felt cruel to make Kirishima watch so you told him to go find his room and something to eat after he escorted you back upstairs. You told him that you would be perfectly fine for the night. He poked his head inside every now and then when you made a particularly loud yelp at the doctor’s prodding, but left to go find dinner an hour ago. He even said goodnight and slipped your halberd inside by candlelight.
“Kirishima, really I’m–”
“Eh?”
The voice opening the door doesn’t match the person you thought had been knocking, and not only that. Instead of Kirishima, and his big soft worry, the prince emits a cloud of vex so thick that you taste metal.
He mouths confusion at the scene. 
“Perfect timing Katsuki, you’re next.” Shuzenji beckons him inside from her seat at your bed. He closes the door again wordlessly.
Chasing Prince Bakugou down a Takoba hallway is not going to make it into your daily report, partly because it’s indecent, and mostly because there’s no proper way to recall hunting a prince like game sport.
“Highness, please wait!”
Chasing though, is a generous description; you’re more just walking quickly and rather close behind.
As doctor Shuzenji tried to hobble after him, images of the prince hurling diplomats flashed in vivid memory and you sat the old woman back in her seat. You wouldn’t put it past him to launch tiny old women someplace very far away indeed.
“My Prince, please–”
“Please what,” Bakugou growls when you’ve finally pushed him past the shallow threshold of avoidance and squarely into confrontation. You couldn’t drown in the shoals of his patience for how very dry they are.
When he stops marching and turns to you his shoes catch sparks before his words do, “You are not my guard and certainly not my companion– leave me be or die.” And the honesty of his violence stalls your image of protection.
The chase has taken you from the hospital wing and into that wide foyer under skylights and for hours now the moon above has effortlessly outshone candles. Competing lights illuminate only white marble and a blue hallway runner, with no other decoration to fight over but the two of you standing in front of each other.
“The doctor,” you slow down fast enough to leave the prince a wide berth but still stumble over words in remembering names, “she– Shuzenji needs to finish her examination. I’m–”
“No one needs anything from me, least of all you.”
Why is he so upset? When the prince snaps at you, as he has done a hundred little times over the past few days, he makes a point to swell. He thinks he’s very clever. He’ll dip his chin into the modest curve of your body and tower over you, as if you aren’t already trying as hard as you can to make him feel big.
“It’s important that the doctor sees you, sir.”
One of his red eyes twitches a bit by the brow when you call him sir, and you add it to the list of things you’ve done to piss him off,
“Please come with me.”
The prince settles with his hands in his pockets, “And if I don’t?” He’s on the precipice of a smirk when he continues, “Are you gonna make me?”
Did Doctor Shuzenji let you chase after him because the headache might kill her?
“No,” you frown, “of course not.”
The moon is so bright through the windows above you that the candles can only throw limp shadows across the subtle bones of Bakugou’s cheeks. He never stands up straight. His broad shoulders round in on you in a generous size difference as you attempt to avoid the eye contact he hates so much. He cocks his head. There are no clocks or bells inside the castle and still the oppressing awareness of time makes you feel as if you are running out of it; fifteen years crush you under their weight in a second. Fifteen years living together in Aldera castle and only two conversations to show for it. Three, if this game he’s playing counts as conversation.
“Go to bed then.” The prince still manages to look menacing in white linen and woolen slippers and he throws words like spit, “Go anywhere away from me.”
When he turns around to skulk back into the dark you don’t mean to say anything at all and you’re sure you don’t. You’re sure you’re only staring after him- watching his earrings catch the last of the moonlight before turning down a dark corridor.
“Why did you come back?”
Bakugou is also sure you didn’t just speak up again, but still he stalls under an archway and creaks his neck back to you all the same. Your question hangs in the stretch of white hall.
You’re hungry, you are delusionally hungry and drunk on Shuzenji’s magic because nothing under heaven, not even the end of the world, could possess you to to pick a fight with this man, and you must have been drugged or, or you’re still exhausted or wounded, anything. The prince is advancing on you now because of course he is.
He’s charging. He growls so low it’s almost a whisper, “Stand at attention.”
Bakugou doesn’t leave any space between you when he approaches this time. His hair has been knocked into every direction gravity will let it fly, but mostly it falls over menacing red eyes and beads of blood between sharp tooth and bitten lip. Jeanist really deserves a medal or something; even three-hundred miles away, he is right as always. Staring is an incorrigible habit of yours.
“You get concussed in that crowd?” The prince’s voice is still bitingly quiet when he thrusts a palm against your collar to test how much pressure you’ll withstand before failing his orders to stay still. Your dragonbone broach digs into your chest.
“Please excuse me, Highness.”
There’s no way to tell how short a fuse you’ve cut for yourself now, so you continue standing exactly at attention, the same way you’ve spent more hours of your life than you’ve spent sleeping. Your fingers don’t so much as twitch with a pulse while you hold them at your sides under squared shoulders. His eyes graze your cheeks.
“Aldera sent me a beaten puppy as a babysitter on mission that has taken years off my fucking life.”
“I only–”
“Only what?!” Bakugou reaches forward and snatches a bit of your nightgown skirt in his fist. You’re jerked suddenly against his chest in his anger, “You’re fucking naked! “You represented Aldera in a nightgown and now you’re chasing me down the hall with your body sketched in satin for any plum, fae, or stray cat to ogle at their shiteating leisure!”
It hasn’t quite clicked, until now. The reason why the prince hates you.
He releases your skirts and clenches crackling fists at his sides, “What did I tell you about those creepy fucking eyes?”
You don’t mean to stare this time, and you’ve tried so hard, for days you’ve tried, not to look at him, but for the first time since your bloody meeting in the countryside he is finally, truly, looking at you and the eye contact conjures up nothing but static.
It didn’t even make any sense, how someone you’ve never so much as shared a meal with could feel anything strong towards you, negative or otherwise. But it was clear inside the throne room today and you were just too stupid to see anything past the blue silk cloak gathered like a gift for you in his arms.
The prince was never concerned for your safety. He is embarrassed by you.
“What did I say?” Caramel hathos fills your mouth when red eyes let you breathe again.
You glare unabashedly deer-like from the space between your bodies where ire is so thick you could grasp it. At his eyes, his lovely ash lashes and the downward quirk of a snarl. Bold of him, to call you naked in linens that barely hide his chest.
“Apologies.” And for the first time those words burn when they come out of you. Like a lie. You lower your gaze. Bow your head too.
It is the slightest consolation that Bakugou forgot, in his anger, that he’s pulled you close enough for gold to glint clearly in your periphery. His jewelry is artifact forever in the forest somewhere, so the earrings he’s wearing are yours. His mother’s– your little gold suns jerk and tremble with his temper.
If he remembered he was wearing your charity, he would shout again, but his fury has gone smug at your concession so he presses on,
“Did Jeanist not teach you to say anything else?”
Your fingers twitch at the mention of the name.
“Well? Go on, five days together and you still haven’t introduced yourself to your prince.”
Even with your eyes to the floor you can catch a sneer in the tips of his voice. Bakugou is so close that his breath pricks the skin of your bare neck.
“Put on a show for me.”
He doesn’t let you move away from him. When you step one foot back he comes one step forward. You take your skirts in subtle fists and bend your knees in a curtsey, and you anticipate his single huff of laughter before it even escapes him.
“Y/n. Apprentice to the Master Jeanist, Head of Royal Guard. Subject of the Alderan Queen, bound by blood and at your service, my prince.”
“Is that all?”
It goes against natural impulse not to watch the thing that is trying to kill you, closely, and it’s a struggle to keep your eyes down when the prince’s body is so close you can count each embroidered stitch of his bedclothes. Years ago, when Jeanist allowed you to work in the castle, on your own shifts without supervision, the queen would stop when her path crossed your post. She’d call your name and you would answer immediately, though eyes down like you’d been told to do. In these early days she crouched in front of you, cape, gown, armor and all, to try and take a peek at your face, or lift your head up with a finger under the chin.
“Pretty eyes, Y/n. Don’t cast them down for anyone.”
Bakugou has your chin now, in a tight hot hand. He jerks your head up hard enough to make you flinch, and gods he’s growling, rumbling like a machine, at both your lack of response and the fact that you haven’t left yet. The pair of you stare.
“Fuck off, Y/n.”
It is your every itching instinct to strike him.
“Yes, sir.”
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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @jctaro @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @km7474 @arayoflia @annoyingleftpinky @noomaisdone @cr33pycrawler @iced-chai-tea-latte @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tragicallygray @idimmadontgiveashit @kooromin @k1tk4tkatsuki @litiri @kiwibao @kiwifujin @mmmaackerel @sarcasticlittlebook @condy-wants-a-cookie @mysticalfridge @dududubebo @falling4fandoms @katanaski @babitchsuki @romiinlove @cherripunch26 @acid-rain27 @madmayo @bakugouswh0r3 @heart-of-haunt @zukowantshishonourback @420mitskilover <- thank u for your sweet comment! @ultracrii
please let me know if you'd like to be removed from the taglist at any point
couldn't tag for some reason :,(
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equallyshaw · 4 months
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𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓲𝓷 𝓻𝓮𝓭 | 𝓶𝓪𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝔃𝓪𝓵 𝓪𝓾 ↠ weekends with the martins! - blurb ↠ au masterlist! ↠ word count 1.3K little longer than i wanted lol ↠ warnings: one swear word!
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when olivia found out that mat out of all people, was being invited to her weekend with the martins- she was understandably annoyed. she was ticked, even. "you're kidding." was the first thing out of her mouth this morning, once sydney told her. matt smirked as he took in sydney's reaction, "why? what happened between you two?" sydney responded with a slight teasing tone. olivia rolled her eyes, "nothing happened." she said before sipping her hot coffee. sydney pressed, "well it doesn't seem like that. he left shortly after you went upstairs...if something did we won't be upset. right hun." she said whipping her head towards her husband who just nodded. "nothing happened, and if he said something did- he's lying." olivia rasped, before turning on her heel and heading over towards winnie in the playroom. sydney and matt looked at one another with a knowing look and in a hushed tone, "do you understand how many questions he's been asking about her? she said something to him and it's captivated him." matt said and that made sydney giggle. "y'know you did the same exact thing, right?" she teased before leaving him and alice in the kitchen.
_
a few hours later, the martins, mat and olivia were walking through east hamptons after a quick ride up east. it had snowed a few days prior, and the small historic beach town made olivia's heart swell. she absolutely adored new england, and this was close as she could get before going back out west. mat had barely said anything beyond greeting her, much to the redheads surprise. she believed he would ramble in her ear to death, but so far he's been respecting her space. "hey our friends invited us over to their place. is that ok? the kids will get tired out before we drive home." matt announced, as they walked back to the car after eating a late brunch. olivia and mat nodded, while helping get the two kiddos in the car. olivia hopped in the back first and buckled in winnie as sydney buckled in alice. "come on dude..let us buckle you." mat teased winnie, who shrieked in response. "dude." winnie repeated, as she let him buckle her. "yeah dude." matt repeated which caused winnie to laugh loudly once more. mat situated himself next to the girl, on the other end of the three seater. she could feel him staring at her, before looking away. she looked up at him, and took in his pink nose and rosy cheeks. she saw the sharp jawline creeping out from his winter jacket. he also had soft dark locks, poking out from his beanie - no toque - as he called it. she found herself staring a bit too long, and quickly looked away. not without mat noticing ofcourse.
matt drove them about 15 minutes away from downtown, and the group pulled up to a quintessential new england style house, making her smile. "are these the wilsons?" olivia asked unbuckling winnie for sydney, and sydney nodded. "yep, they're from the cape originally." she hummed and olivia giggled, "really? couldn't tell?" she teased referencing the hosue, causing sydney to smile. sydney knew just how much olivia adored new england, and the safety net it provided. as kids, that was there happy place away from the hustle and bustle of the football season, and there- the two could be as wild and free as they liked. mat let her out of the car first, after the two kids exited. as soon as olivia and mat began to walk up the pathway, olivia hit a small patch of black ice, and olivia quickly fell back with mat catching her just a bit. "woah..not so fast." he teased as his arms instinctively found her back, as her legs were taken out from under her. she clutched her chest, not believing that she hadn't fallen on her ass. "you good?" sydney asked concerningly, as she looked back after hearing a small shriek. "uh yeah." olivia said shaking herself from mat's grip. "you sure?" he questioned, and she looked back at him for a brief second. she responded with a small nod, before stepping around the ice and following the martins up the pathway.
"ive heard so much about you! im alyssa!" a tall brunette said, pulling the young girl into a hug. "you as well! im olivia." the redhead smiled, before turning back to make room for mat. "now I've heard so much more about you!" alyssa gushed causing sydney to chuckle at olivia's reaction. "our little ones are a HUGE fan." alyssa added and mat smile, "lets meet the gremlins." he joked, causing alyssa and her husband to laugh. "lets go!" alyssa said pulling olivia by the hand into the house, behind everybody.
the two toddlers, mat and olivia found themselves outside a little while late. olivia and mat pummeled each other with snowballs, making the two young ones laugh. "im getting you esiason!" he yelled, running after her. she shrieked once he grabbed ahold of her, and then the two fell over into the packing snow. "you minx!" olivia screamed, causing the two little ones to giggle. they made their descent onto the older pair, just as mat stared down at olivia. her pale freckled face, completely red and her button nose was deep red. "oh were getting you!" olivia screamed, pulling herself away from his gaze and towards her niece. olivia rolled herself out of his hold, and stood up holding out her arms pretending she was gonna scoop winnie up. mat picked up lily wilson, and twirled her around causing her to laugh loudly.
sydney and matt watched from inside, as the hosts grabbed some light cocktails. "god he is so smitten, its nauseating." matt said causing sydney to laugh loudly. "too bad she doesn't like him." sydney responded, taking ahold of the glass. "no?" alyssa questioned and sydney shook her head. "no she cant stand him, though- we suspect something happened between them at new years but both of them have been zip." she said shrugging. "oh yeah, if she doesn't like him- talk about chemistry." alyssa pointed out, before they heard the backdoor open.
_
the 6 of them headed back down to long island, and the martins offered the extra bedroom to mat who gladly accepted it, after an 11:30 pm arrival time. much, much later than they had anticipated. "can you show him the room and stuff?" sydney asked without waiting for an answer, while mat and her slipped upstairs to put the kids down. olivia sighed, before looking towards mat who was already staring at her. "are you 5 or can you find it yourself?" she questioned, annoyance lacing every word. she didn't wait for an answer, and headed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
"what do you have against me, huh? you've been nothing but rude today." he said following her, hot on her tail. she sighed, "can you not? im not in the mood." she said beginning to drink her water. he shook his head, standing his guard as he leaned against the counter island. "you don't want me to say how i really feel, because it'll hurt your feelings pretty boy." she countered, and he chuckled. "so you find me attractive, who'd a thought?" he teased and she groaned. "you and you're goddamn arrogance." she rolled her eyes beginning to walk out. he grabbed her softly by the arm, and she waited a few seconds to look back at him. "see you around canadian boy." she taunted before pulling away. he watched her go and headed up the stairs a little bit later after collecting his thoughts.
then those sane and rational thoughts went out the door when he opened her door by accident and not his.
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may have to write something about that ending...hehe
@toasttt11 @cillianthinker
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popcornforone · 9 months
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The Good, The Bad & The Naughty
A Dave York Fan Fic
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Happy Dave York Saturdays people. Sorry this is a long one, I had intended on stopping at a certain point of writing this, & then I just got carried away. It’s another summer vibe fic this one (maybe a i need a master list for just the summer feel ones I write) but this would have not been possible if it wasn’t for @alwaysdjarin . They said something a few weeks ago linked to the topic in this gif & I took the idea & ran from there. Please go check out their fics especially Red, you will all love it. We share Dave between us.
This is not apart of my Dave York One Week With Series or the additional chapters, it’s just the man is so easy to write for.
Synopsis:- It’s a hot summers day & you can’t get your hosepipe to work, so your neighbour offers to help. You decide the man needs a really thorough thank you.
Word count: 7300
Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!DAVE YORK AS ALWAYS COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! PIV sex, shower Sex, out door pleasuring, Oral male receiving, swearing, alcohol, denying, teasing, being topless & naked outside, rough sex, choking, lots of dirty & controlling talk, sucking, biting, voyeurism, basically anything naughty you think you & Dave might do… it happens.
Thanks as always for the read peoples. All feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy Dave . Sorry not sorry.
The summer heatwave can jog on. It’s got too hot now. Far too hot. & that’s saying something because you adore the heat. Putting on your sun tan lotion, catching the rays, having an ice pop. Oooh it’s your season girl. It’s hot girl summer & you want to flaunt it in your garden of your new suburban house you’ve just purchased.
Being single means you get to have fun, & you make sure to have lots of it & try out everything this world has to offer, male or female. But there are times when you need a partner or someone to share your life with. For when you can’t reach the top shelf or the extender for the attic. First world struggles you always say to yourself & you wait for when you father is going to pop over for him to help with a few jobs you just can’t do on your own.
Emergency’s only, you’ve told yourself before calling your dad. You know he will roll his eyelids at you if you call him for help with a hose pipe to fill up your paddling pool for you to dip your feet in & later lay in to cool off after an afternoon of catching the sun. It was over priced, you know it was, but it’s covered by your summer bonus you got at the start of June for all the commission you made. Plus your dog Scruff, the Yorkshire terrier, will love it to cool of in. Pup cups & frozen dog food he has been loving. He’s currently in the shade sitting on the coolmatt in the kitchen, not even attempting to come out side. He must think that his human is mad. It’s a justified purchase when you say it’s for your baby.
There is someone who’s very tempted to come outside though. Your recently separated neighbour. A house that when you moved in 5 months ago was filled with kids playing & laughing. Now this only happens at the weekend, or it was replaced by screaming from the couple. You’ve always been nice to them & they welcomed you to the neighbourhood before splitting up. He is devilishly handsome, so you can see why a wife might be jealous of other women’s affections to her husband, & that might be why she’s taken the kids. The house next door may look like a happy family home, but that just not how the Yorks work, especially Dave.
Dave can see you struggling untangling your hose pipe for your paddling pool, from the safety of his upstairs bedroom window, completely naked after his shower to cool down from his work out, contemplating what to wear today. He is wondering how well you would handle his own length. Your hands delicately grasping it, making sure it firm & steady. You’ve conversed a few times but it was seeing you in the spring almost swallow a hot dog hole that made his eyes go wide. How slack can her jaw go? Is her oral going to be as good as that? Dave shakes his head but then glances back at the garden & the state of you. Mermaid shorts & a tie up binkini top. He’s been staring long enough, he can see that he needs to calm down. He knows it’s time to act on his instincts & enjoy you for a glorious afternoon in the sun. It’s time for him to put on something appropriate, which can easily have you staring at him, & make you want to beg for him.
You are so lost in trying to fit the adjustable hose pipe nozzle, that you don’t hear him walk from his house, down the garden & lean on the fence.
“Need a hand?” The words startle you & you drop the hose pipe. He’s leaning on the fence with a large icey water bottle, still in a shirt but there’s clearly some buttons are undone. His tone always so deep & seductive, even on your first meeting you thought there was something very sexy & gravely about his voice.
“Ooh hi Dave” you reply, tucking your hair flirtingly behind your ear. “Erm don’t think so, I think I’ve got this” you say keeping eye contact with him, fumbling about for the hose you just dropped. At hearing Daves voice, Scruff has run down the garden & started doing zoomies & barking.
“Hey scruff,” He leans over the fence seeing the dogs excited tail wag. You smile as you see Daves face light up even more. Dave sometimes works nights & you always know when he’s back, Scruff hears the car arrive & looks out for the man who brings him cheese. He always has some in his pocket.
You return to putting your hose pipe together, & you just hear Dave tut. Without looking you also know he’s shaking his head.
“Well I can either come help, or laugh at your struggle” Dave says, without looking you can sense the smirk, it’s such a devious & sexy smirk. You look at him with a face like thunder, but you’d also quite like to get everything ready.
“Well how long do you want me to struggle with this?”
“Until you’re begging for me…” oooh it sounds so seductive when he says that. His deep tones, & gruffness. You look up slightly & see the mischief in his dark brown eyes, maybe this is why he’s separated, just his words make women weak for him. He can see how red you turn & it’s not just from the heat.
“Then come help me then Dave, please. I may be a strong independent woman, but every now & then…” you pause wondering if you can play him back at his own game. He is always such a charmer & you’re decent too, but not at his levels. But you go for it “…I need a man to sort me out. To grab the situation & make sure it’s looked after correctly” you raise a smug eyebrow at him which he does his own, until you bite your bottom lip. That flusters him slightly.
“Well as you asked so nicely & I can’t not help out a damsel in distress…” Dave walks through the gate of his backgarden to the path & then unhooks yours. You look him up & down because you can’t help but stare. His light pink shorts have a Shark & octopus designs on them, which cling to his skin. The outline being shown for all to see. The blue shirt is undone for all but 2 buttons, a cheeky nipple on display. He looks beach ready & you know when he arrives there, if that is where he is venturing today, every single person at the beach would stop to look at this glorious mountain of a man, & all are probably wondering like you, if these are just swim shorts or not.
Dave notices your longer glance, he knows what you’re thinking. He has his own needs that he would like to be satisfied as well but he just casually walks across to you & firmly grabs the hose pipe, his hands holding it in a grasp that would be used for pleasure.
“Right let’s have a look at this” he doesn’t make eye contact with you, & you’re grateful. You’re aroused by the way he’s taken charge & has come over to be a man of the house for you, as he twists the nozzle to free the small bit of plastic that has been stopping you getting this on so far. It drops out & you shake your head.
“I should have seen that there was a second piece, I removed the first” you feel stupid but Dave doesn’t mock you.
“It’s okay, it will be fine, don’t go getting your knickers in a twist” he says before his mind then wonders. Are your bottoms under those shorts also tied up like your bikini top? His thumb will make easy work of those knots & he will be sucking on your breasts for all his worth with just a few motions, watching you rive in his lap. He shakes his head trying to get the vivid image out of his head.
But then Daves fantasy thought is completely interrupted. You had turned the water on to check you weren’t making an error earlier, but the first nozzle was blocking it. As Dave went to check everything was in place, he clicked it round & the water squirted him straight in the face.
“Fuckkkkk” he screams, the cold water blasting him, & you run to the tap to turn it off while he fights against the spray, spluttering.
“sorry Dave, I forgot I’d done that in my earlier checks…” but your words drift off as you see his glistening chest. The pale blue shirt sticking to his abs. The way it shines is more attractive to you than a magpie is to silver. Your jaw would be on the floor if it could go that far. Your eyes can’t hide that you’re gawping at such a drenched spectacle of a man. Who knew your next door neighbour could look that hot & sexy after a 10seconds spray of some cold water. Dave is not the only person in your garden who is wet.
“Well I’m awake now…” Dave says to snap you out of your trance . “…I mean I’m always awake, but that just saves me having a cooling shower in a bit. “
“shit Dave I’m so sorry, but you gotta laugh or…”
“gawp!” He interjects. You can feel the heat in your cheeks rise. He can tell he has an effect on you. You try & not look at him but as soon as you do, you see those eyes smoulder. There’s a reason why you hardly ever pay attention to what he says whenever you two talk, one glance is all it ever takes.
“Let me go get you a towel Dave, or I can thank you with anything you want? I can go get whatever, once the paddling pool is full. You’re more than welcome to use it ,unless you were heading off to the beach” you’re fast talking as you fill the pool, it shows how nervous & effected you are by him.
“I’m sure whatever you have got Will be fine darling…” Dave goes to add some innuendo but at that exact moment you bend over in front of him & he admires how the mermaid shorts hug your arse & how well you can actually handle that hose. He so wants to slap your bum in which ever way your would prefer, but he knows he’d need your consent first. You don’t notice Daves gone quiet. Your mind is on filling the paddling pool & watching Scruff try to pounce on some butterfly’s. Every time he fails he whimpers.
“it’s okay Scruff they can’t hurt you,” you tell him before he eventually gives up & puts his head in the edge of the pool. “Almost there baby” you say as those big puppy dog eyes look at you.
“Did you just call me baby?”’Dave interjects. You’d completely forgotten about him & Scruff goes up to him for belly rub rolling around on the floor. His hands have always been so large as they engulf your dog.
“No…I…” You’re flustered. You meant to call the dog baby but suddenly that’s all that your mouth can form. Wanting to call Dave baby. Wanting him to delight you, wanting you see how good he is at taking control.
“You meant the dog…”he finishes when he sees you flap about a bit & then he sees the paddling pool about to over flow. he leans across taking your wrist, grappling the nozzle& then turns it off. “Don’t want everything to be soaked now do we”. The gulp you make at those words which are said so deeply along with the eye contact, make you want to soak your own knickers. This man has a hold on you & you want it all. & Dave can sense it too, he’s just waiting to see what you do next before he makes a move.
“I’ll…I’ll be back in a second” you run off to the house to calm down. He’s still technically married. The divorce isn’t final. But you keep having these moments & at night you wonder how good Dave would feel as he told you how special you are to him. You grab a small towel for him to dry off with & then lean against the fridge, heart pounding away, deep breaths being taken as you try to compose yourself. You not this easy to seduce no, you say to yourself. You open the fridge door & grab a beer as a thank you to Dave. The coolness of the fridge helping to cool yourself down but it’s not calming down your burning desire inside you. Maybe it’s time to chat with Dave as you drink these beers in the garden, about your needs that need attending too.
You slowly walk back to the garden, trying to keep your composure & see his blue shirt now over the back of the sun lounger. A bare chested man is now sitting in your garden playing fetch with your dog. you can hear the excited growls as you make your way across to them.
“Here you go Dave… thank…” you can’t help but look at his well defined torso without his shirt on. A happy trail leading to where you would like to be acquainted with. You mind is racing & you can’t hide that you are looking at all of him
“…you?” He questions & then finishes your sentence with a really smug grin on his face. He takes the beer but puts it & the bottle opener on the table next to him. “Well you are welcome ‘baby’…” he mocks your earlier comment “…but I think a thank you needs to be much more personal” his large hand takes yours, rubbing his fingers & thumbs around your wrist. You gasp from the soothing touch & you start to turn crimson & look embarrassed.
“Oooh sweetheart stop looking shy. Come here & Let me take a look at you” he pulls you so you’re in front of him. Scruff wanders back to the house, he knows he’s not going to be playing fetch for a while, so he’s off to go find some shade. You still feel self conscious as both Daves hands stroke your arms & your hips start to sway. A small little smile falls across your face as a handsome man is clearly admiring & wanting you. “Well this just isn’t acceptable darling.” He sits up & tuck your hair behind your ear. “We need to address that smirk across your face, & make it do something else” you slowly stradle Dave as he pulls you inches away from his face. His chest feels fantastic, rock hard & his heart is beating faster that a bullet train. “We need your mouth to be occupied another way, other than just drinking beer & stumbling your words, even though it’s adorable”
You don’t hold back & your lips meet Daves. So round & plump. He was ready & waiting & the way he nips at your bottom lip before you allow his tongue to glide around your mouth, exploring every inch of it, it’s like you’ve never kissed a man before. He feels so different to anyone else you’ve made out with as he holds your face. Your tongue twister never ending. Little sighs escaping before the embrace continues. All the butterfly’s taking flight as you feel all this man has to offer. You didn’t know kisses could feel like this, & it’s taken your mysterious neighbour to unlock this desire.
You break away, slightly opening your eyes & smile at Dave as your hand cups & then caresses his right cheek.
“Oooh kisses with you Dave, how can I say no to that” but as your mouth moves towards his, for another embrace after your soft words, he grabs your chin to keep you at bay.
“Your mouth is not for my lips to enjoy yet sweetheart, you need to earn that before you receive more of those” he says deeply, his eyes dilating waiting for you to do what he wants. “I don’t ask twice baby” he says looking serious. Your hands glide down his body & then you see the out line of his length is much more on show & larger than it was earlier under those shorts.
“Mr York, are you happy with where this is going?” You ask raising an eyebrow suggestively.
“Baby I said I don’t ask twice, if you want to thank me, you can do it on your knees” it doesn’t matter that he’s suddenly gone moody, dark & menacing. Dave York is making you feral. You slowly climb off his body & kneel in front of the lounger, as he sits up straight & your hands along with his, untie his drawstring & you remove his shorts to his ankles.
They were just swim shorts, he’s commando underneath & his girthy length springs to life, bobbing, erect & waiting for you to pleasure it. Your eyes are wide in shock as to how big he is. Is that really going to fit in your mouth, let alone your cunt if you thank him well enough? It’s leaking at the tip already. His large hand looks small as he leisurely strokes it while you stare, the other is stroking his thigh, beaconing you to come nearer.
“A good girls like, you must know what it takes to thank a man like me, baby. Don’t be shy, let’s get aquatinted properly” there’s smug look on his face. He knows he could make you do anything right now. Saliva is gathering in your mouth, you’re ready. It’s been a while since you’ve had a penis in your mouth, so you know you need to take this slow, but that will just mean Dave gets this for longer & hopefully he will enjoy it more.
“How do you know that I’m good dave?” Positioning yourself & placing your hands around his length stroking it as both your eyes widen.
No words are said of consent, just eye contact. Just silent nodding. You sigh & move your head towards it. You lick across the tip & he gasps at the sensation. The anticlockwise motion you start, it slowly going past the tip, around his length.
“Oooh girl you’ve done this before haven’t you? Such a good girl” he says as he strokes your cheek. You pull away, leaving some slick on his penis.
“I’ve not even really got going yet Dave” you wink at him & you both smile at each other, before you purse your lips & start to really work on him. Your hands on his length as you start your bobbing, filling your mouth with all of him.
Daves sigh echos, it’s deep & almost a moan at the end as your start pleasuring him.
“Oooh baby” his head rolls around his neck as he spreads his thighs a little more as you suck away. His body twitching already as he is fully inserted in your mouth, each motion making his hips want to move. “I may have to help you out with more jobs in the future, if your going to thank me like this” one hand is on the back of your head encouraging the bobbing, he wants to feel the back of your throat. He wants to fill every available gap.
“Good girls say thank you, bad girls show they are thankful, naughty girls who need help make sure the needs of the helper are met.” Dave says as he starts to sink further back in the chair. You’ve found your rhythm now. Your breathing through your nose, as his penis starts to hit your throat. So large in size & girth, no man has ever felt this good or full while you’ve sucked him off. You’re really enjoying it & the occasional look up through your lashes at Dave, you are enjoying the look on his face. The way he called you a naughty girl made you clench, you bikini bottoms getting wetter than if you were in your paddling pool. You see the heat raise in Daves face, not just from the early afternoon sun, but from his desire & lust for you as you slurp away at his length. He’s trying to control his body but he can’t. His hips are starting to thrust fully into your face, which along with this hand & your own motion, makes you gag around him. You are feeling the most powerful & sexy you have felt in a long time. Your hunky neighbour is sitting naked on your sun lounger & you are giving him your best blow job in years. You know this is the case because you are being aroused & he is trying everything to make this last for as long as it possibly can.
You come up for air briefly but your hands still work his glistening shaft, coated by you so far. Your eyes start being transfixed on it. It large & makes your hands look so dainty, In fact it would probably make Daves hands which usually eclipse everything seem normal size. Daves stares at you & growls when you let got, enjoying the small trickle coming from your mouth but when he makes eye contact with you he can tell this is just the beginning.
“& helpful mysterious handsome neighbours will always be rewarded” you lick your lips after saying this before your lips once again embrace his penis & the oral onslaught continues.
“Oooh sweetheart, bet all your exs miss you” Dave groans his body rolling faster. “Such a small & beautiful mouth, nice & tight,you look all sweet & innocent on the surface,, but your just needy like the rest of them, my naughty girl” his panting resumes before he holds your head in place & sits right on the edge of the chair, your head almost in the hair around his base, he can’t get any further into your mouth & throat even if he wanted to. “I wonder does your pussy have the same effect? Bet it’s drenched already”
Daves now got both hand grabbing your head & he’s in control. He’s face fucking you, controlling the rhythm, watching as he slides in & our if your mouth. Loving the suction, the gagging music to his ears.
“Your mouth is now mine sweetheart” he groans “you hear that, if you want me to do anything for you, you know the payment.” Your eyes start to water, every third motions you gag, he’s hitting your reflex spot a lot & it’s making him go faster. “Look at you darling, so keen to thank me, so keen to gawp, now your making me happy & you don’t stop until every last drop is swallowed, you understand my slut, my neighbourhood slut. Bet everyone else in the street wishes they knew how good your mouth is” he’s almost shouting in desire to make sure they all do know that he’s face fucking you, his moans are trailing out at the same time. He’s lost in the moment trying to get to his climax. Your eyes sting, but you are loving how he just isn’t letting go. It’s aroused you so much, you can feel your slick pooling in your bikini bottoms, maybe you’ll have to be naked in the padding pool later. You’ve let go of this length, you’re gripping onto his hips as he thrusts away into your face.
“Come on sweetheart, your filthy mouth can do better than this, make me happy, oooh fuck…” Daves hips start lost their rhythm. You’re starting to take back control, but you can see his body jolt in desire. He wanted you to lap up every drop, not waste one, & you want to taste him. You lick a few stripes around him knowing it’s coming, & don’t have him so deep that you might choke. “Ooh fuck sweetheart, I…I’m… get… ready” Dave moans your name as your mouth is filled with more than just his penis two motions later. Salty & tangy liquid spews into your mouth & down your throat for a few moments. The gasps & moaning he is doing which also hold some fuck yes’s at the same time, fill the garden air. Not even Scruff having a bit of a bark at a cat in the back ground is taking the two of you out of this moment. “Oooh fuck yes sweetheart” he cry’s juddering watching your throat gulp him down. He owns your mouth now, it’s his property. You eventually pull away & you both notice the trail from his penis to your mouth, a mix of his cum & your saliva as he sits back in the chair, catching his breath, completely exposed & still erect.
“Sweetheart what did I say?” He says as he sits back up. This hand grabs your chin sharply. “I said every drop & this trickle escaping, well that’s not acceptable” he has eyes of the devil as his flat thumb wipes off the trail that’s about to drip. He places the thumb on you lips “suck” it’s a firm request & wont be asked twice. You lean into his thumb & suck it for a good few seconds. He quickly then removes it before grabbing his swim shorts that are around his ankles to cover him again, tying up the drawstrings. “Be a good girl & open my beer” Dave nods at the bottle, he’s in controlling teasing Dave mode & you will do anything to get this man in the paddling pool with you to have sex with you in the shallow water now. All your morals out the window, this man is now sex on legs for you, here to scratch your itch, so you lean over & open both your bottles of beer & swig from his as well as yours before you hand it across.
“Anything to be of service for you” you say, you hold your own coolish bottle to your head to cool. Condensation trickling down your face & neck trying to cool you from the suns heat & the heat inside you desperate for more from Dave.
Dave leans down & picks up the hosepipe & then leans back in the lounger.
“You seem a bit hot & flustered sweetheart. Do you need to cool down?”
“Dave I… ahhhh” the high pitch squeal you make is from the spray of the cold water from the hose crashing against you. Your hands after putting your bottle down, try to stop it but you can’t deny this cool sensation is most welcome. Feeling the spray as Dave hoses you down, your mermaid shorts soaked & your nipples hardening under your bikini top. Dave licks his lips as he sees you start to enjoy it a little bit too much. He wants you but he’s going to make you earn his pleasure a little bit more. He stops the spray & gulps the beer down. Before he stands up & takes your hand, admiring your dripping body as he helps you stand up to.
“Bad girls…” he whispers in your ear seductively “know when they have over teased…” he walks behind you, his hand smacks your arse in your drenched shorts as he rolls them free. He can see your bikini bottom just about covering your arse, they are tied like your top & he waits for you to step out of them before his hands trail up your body until they reach the small knots keeping your top on “… & they know when they need to be pleased.” The knot in the Centre of your back & around your neck both undone in a matter of moments. Your bikini top falls from your body. Dave rests his head on your shoulders looking down at your wet chest as your heart beats faster. His hands come around & cup both breasts, starting to stroke your nipples. The lightest of touches, making them even harder. You push your arse back into his swim shorts, feeling his bulge grow harder.
“Dave please, let me thank you some more” you plead.
“See I knew I’d have you begging for me” Dave is now in front of you, looking at you in all your glory, seeing the small piece of material hanging on by two small knots. It’s covering what’s left of your modesty. The temptation far too much. He sighs before his lips meet yours. Delicious & smooth in the embrace as his hands rest around the back of your neck & your breast as he walks you backwards to step you into your paddling pool. Your feet enjoying the cool water & he slowly lowers you down into the shallow pool. He’s not got in himself, he’s to the side. The hand that was teasing across your breasts, is now collecting small cups up water, pouring them across your chest, making you gasp, as your nipples get so hard.
“Oooh Dave I want you” panting & begging words come between each kiss the two of you have. His lips no longer a stranger, your hand trailing down his chest heading to the happy trail, inches away from removing his shorts & pulling him into the pool with you. But Dave then smirks & grabs your wrist. A Devilish look on his face.
“& naughty girls need to be taught that they don’t just get what they want all the time” Dave says. The eyes contact is deep before a frenzied kiss, biting your bottom lip as it breaks, his eyes wired & darting crazily. Dave then removes himself from your personal space completely. You sit in the pool desperate for him, for his touch, his kisses, & his throbbing penis. But there he goes. He picks up your bikini top, his shirt & the bottle of beer which he finishes. “Always a pleasure to come & help a neighbour” he says & nods. You’re gawping at Dave, trying to protest his leaving, almost willing to take off your bottoms to make him change his mind, but he’s still teaching you a lesson, a lesson only he could do. He saw you gawp & he gave you a taste & now he wants you to plead for more. Your stunned silence, as you see him head for the gate, is interrupted by Scruffs barking as he runs after Dave before the dog leaps in the paddling pool with you, as you helplessly watch your handsome neighbour leave.
Your phone number is on the neighbourhood watch list all resident of the road have. So when a day of laying in your garden topless is over & you have a nice even tan everywhere you head in for a shower. Dave has been watching you all afternoon from his window, pleasuring himself, wondering what excuse he can use to come back & thank you for an afternoon’s entertainment without sounding creepy. He hopes you haven’t seen him. But he still decides to message you when he knows you’ve gone in for the day.
*hope your had fun in the sun sweetheart & enjoyed all of this glorious summer day
You’re startled when your phone goes off & then smile as you see it’s Dave. No one else would call your sweetheart. You’re literally about to leap in the shower. So you send him a picture of your bottoms on the bathroom floor with the captions
*a good girl showers & does her laundry the same day, a bad girl tells your the back door is unlocked & a naughty girl…🫦🍆
You hit send & step in the shower, waiting & hoping.
10 minutes later large hands, that you had only fantasised about until midday today, are around your waist. His penis against your arse. Your own hand around the back of Daves neck as you kiss deeply, your bodies already rolling, feeling him get harder. Your own arousal getting more, as your other hand starts to tease your clit. The water hitting you both. It’s warm compared to the hose & the paddling pool, but it’s making this steamy booty call even more sensual.
“Tell me sweetheart what does a naughty girl like you do in this situation?” Dave groans, he pushes you against the glass of the shower, & your spread your legs as he lines up ready to take you, a condom already on his penis that he’d put on before he joined you.
“Naughty girls like their sexy neighbours to fuck them hard & rough” you’re already panting as you say this.
He says nothing. He thrusts deep inside you I. One motion & you can feel him fill you up. He is bigger than you’ve had before, & it pushes all the air out of you.
“Fuck me sweetheart, your so wet & tight” he thrusts again, not allowing you to get comfortable “I should have been the one begging for this not you, fuck me” a slap of your arse as he thrusts agains, the sting of being spread & the feel of him dragging your walls & his spank making you clamp & moan his name
“Dave oh fuck Dave” it’s almost a whisper you’re straining already in pleasure. He’s finding his rhythm quickly as he starts to pound into you. He drags you back under the shower streams, so he can see your misty silhouettes in the shower glass reflection.
“Look at you darling, taking me so well, almost like your cunt was made for me” he’s so deep in his response & inside you.
He’s got his arms wrapped around you thrusting hard & then one lets go & turns off the water confessing you. You thought he was into this & he’s still making you moan.
“Trust me?” He asks as you gasp as the mist lifts into the extractor, he can feel you body tense up.
“Yes Dave” you softly reply
“foolish answer” he moans before he withdraws & drags you still dripping out of the shower & he stands next to the closed laundry basket. Legs spread, condom dripping with precum which you can see at the tip, your slick & shower water, trickling down its length. Your eyes wide wondering how your pussy accommodates all of that inside you. He’s huge & hung well.
“stop admiring sweetheart & get over here like the naughty girl you are” you know he won’t ask twice. In a flash you’re standing next to him, you hands playing with his ball. His thumb circling your clit while your lips collide.
Your hand then slowly starts to removes his condom as you whisper, “I’m clean & on an implant Dave, I want you to claim me if you want to” Daves eyes dilate & a frenzied look appears on his face. He pushes you onto the laundry basket.
“spread” he demands as he takes the condom off, throwing it in the sink “naughty girls like to give bad boys a full frontal show” Dave stares at what he’s been thrusting into as your legs part. “People would kill to have even a chance to gaze upon you in this position sweetheart” he says as he jerks his length before he swipes it through your slick. This makes your enterace flutter, desperate to feel him inside you again. “Look at you, so eager, so desperate. Do all naughty girls put out like you do? Are all naughty girls so tight?” He growls holding your chin as his tip nudges against your entrance.
“Well not all bad men have a naughty girl to fuck when they want, like me Dave” you reply as you lick your lips & then you gasp.
He’s slower this time as he inserts his penis inside you, he knows how your going to feel now, he knows after the initial few minutes of blistering movement standing in the shower that your body can take him at his most passionate, so he wants to build up your collective high. His own sigh & eyes closing once he’s seen he’s fully inside you is followed by a “damn, your so fucking tight, like your cunt was made just to satisfy me” He kisses you & bites your bottom lip feeling the way your body responds to him. One hand on the small of your back as he makes sure you’re comfortable on the lid of the basket & the other heading to your clit to stimulate you. Your hands are on his firm chest as you slowly start to wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer so he feels deeper inside you, filling you so there’s nowhere he can go.
“Fuck me Dave, this cunt needs a good fuck” a small smile forms on his lips & his vigorous thrusting starts at a much faster pace.
“Naughty girls get fucked hard, bad boys fuck how they want” he says his voice already straining. He’s hitting that spot every time, he can see you desperate for air & you body moving with his, each thrust & movement sending you both into extreme pleasure. Maybe he had wanted to take this slow, but not any more. Dave wants his fill & he wants to spill inside your tight cunt as many times as he can tonight, especially when you’re begging for it.
“What … whatt… oooh fuck yea” your words are failing you as you look at him & see his chest heave, stimulation is in over drive “… what about… naughty boyessssss , oooh fuck, just like that baby” Daves taken one of your nipples into his mouth, your squeezing his body with your thighs as you are wrapped around him. The way his tongue feels on your hardens nipples is exactly how you had imagined it earlier, it feels divine.
Your pleasurable moaning thought is stopped in its tracks. Dave let’s go & stops sucking your nipple & the hand that was on your clit is now gripped around your throat choking you. His brown puppy dog eyes that are usually so big & adorable are now as black as the night sky, dilated, frenzied & full of desire.
“A naughty boy fucks sluts like you until you squirt” he scowls, his voice is hoarse & rough “a naughty boy goes harder when she begs for more, which your dirty mouth good at doing sweetheart” he can see you silently mouth Dave please as he moves harder, even harder than he was when he face fucked your earlier, your pussy ready to soak him, but he keeps going as you go higher & higher through your layers of desire “a naughty boy ruins you, so you’ll beg for his cock every night, no other boy or toy will satisfy you again sweetheart” the rhythm is relentless & you pull Dave completely against you, his grip harder around your throat. He’s loving you as you gasp for each breath, it’s making your body convulse.
“But that’s a naughty boy sweetheart…” the devilish look is back in Daves eyes that are burning with desire. “…I’m a naughty man, I’m the devil…” words that turn you on even more your slow close to cumming as you desperately try to catch a few gasps of air any way you can, you’ve lost control of the rest of your trembling body “…& I make every naughty girl, wish they were my whore” these words are whispered into your ear with 3 huge thrusts that send you over the edge. Clamping around him. Soaking his penis. Letting go. Experiencing the ultimate pleasure. No one has ever fucked you like this. No one has ever given you such a long orgasm. His hand peels off your neck letting you breathe & you take in as much air as you can, your eyes slowly opening, feeling like a new person & then they ping open wides as Dave screams you name along with “tightest fucking cunt to ever fuck” & his penis erupts, filling your core. Mixing with your own release, as he starts to slow down. His own desires & fantasy met. He finally got to feel how good your cunt was, & it didn’t disappoint.
“Fuck Dave, oooh fuck” you eventually manage to muster. He’s trailing kisses up your neck as he catches his own breath. “You made this summer girl all hot & sweaty & unnecessary” your eyes eventually meeting before you wrap your arms around his shoulders & kiss him with all the lust left in your being, never wanting to leave this moment. To stay sitting here with his cock inside you, even though it’s softening, having him tell you how naughty you both are.
“Well sweetheart, not all naughty girls have a mouth & cunt like yours” he says when your lips eventually part. He slowly withdraws & you wince at his loss & you both stand in the shower to clean up. He’s still admiring your naked curves, as you sort yourself out.
“Does that fucking mean, I can get you to help me out another day Dave, should I need a hand” you ask as your wrap a towel around you & Dave drys off & picks up his swim shorts, ready to redress in them again.
“But I thought you were a strong independent woman?” Dave chuckles as he throws the condom in the bin, that he fishes out of the sink “I thought you we’re capable…”
“don’t make me beg Dave”’you tut & roll your eyes as you interrupt him.
“Well begging got us here in the first place,” he says tying up his shorts as you open the bathroom door & Scruff comes bouncing along your landing to the two of you, with big puppy dog eyes.
“Turns out scruff isn’t the only one with big brown eyes, I won’t say no to” you say as you head down stairs to the kitchen with Dave following you as he is ready to head back to his.
You pour Scruff his dog food into the bowl leaning down. “There you go baby, have a taste of that” you say to the dog.
“Ooh I intend to” says Dave deeply before spinning you around “I want the good, the bad & the naughty from you every time” he says as his hand strokes your face & he pushes you against a counter.
“Well I would use my paddling pool more, give you a good view, but someone has stolen half of my swim suit.” You laugh before you give dave a passionate kiss. Your hands once again trailing across his body, feeling every inch of him. He then hold up the bottoms that you left on the bathroom floor, looking suggestively .
“I’m taking these too, that way you’ll have to invite me around each day of summer, for some paddling pool fun.” The smirk & the eyes say it all, as your towel cascades to the floor.
“& I’ll thank you every time you do help me with any of my needs Dave”. Thank god Scruff can’t talk, although he must have been wondering what the cheese man & his human did on the kitchen table to make such high pitched nosies that made him hide in the lounge. Being Naughty has never felt so good & who knew a helpful friendly neighbour could lead to so much pleasure.
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