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#i got impatient whoops
mechanicalinfection · 7 months
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Forever.
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bb-drayster · 1 month
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[offscreen post.]
“mochi…mochi…”
[drayton ambled around aimlessly in the polar biome, a box of mochi in one hand, and his new plush in the other. kaon was following closely behind his trainer, although he honestly wasn’t sure why they were out in the terarium to begin with. it’s not like there were any battles scheduled for today.
after…quite some time had passed of drayton wandering around aimlessly, he stumbled across a student training up their pokemon. they offered drayton a friendly smile.]
“hey, dude!”
. . .
[he didn’t even respond. he simply offered the open box of mochi to the student. they just…stared at him for a moment. something wasn’t right here. his silence, his janky and quite frankly unnatural body movements, those dark bags under his eyes. something seemed. off.
still though, the student didn’t want to come off as rude, or anything like that. without a word, they took a piece of mochi out of the box.]
“uuuuh. thanks.”
[they muttered as they popped the whole thing into their mouth…it was actually pretty tasty!
drayton walked right past the student, kaon still following closely.
onto the next one.]
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literallyjusttoa · 2 years
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"Oh, there you are father! It feels like I've been waiting for ages."
Companion piece to Personal Entry ???
Cool glowy version under the cut
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youreamonocoque · 1 year
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Exams are getting worse!
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kiwisbell · 3 months
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Gloves Off [joel miller]
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You enjoy watching him bleed, but you love to watch him succeed. He builds ‘em up just to knock ‘em down. He’s The Contractor, and he’s your reigning king of the ring.
my masterlist!
pairing: boxer!joel miller x f!reader
tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), no outbreak!joel, blood and violence (by virtue of joel’s career), boxing, joel’s got that dawg in him, established relationship, oral fixation, weightlifting, cleaning wounds, protective!joel, soft!joel, joel is a munch, cockblocking, fingering, squirting, riding, unprotected piv (let's not follow this example), creampie, cum eating, dirty talk, light choking, mirror sex, “she” pronoun used — switches to “you” a little ways in & stays that way, some light playful smacking, some light playful blasphemy, a hint of exhibitionism, they're a bedroom-ceiling-mirror couple™️, no i do not know the intricacies of boxing, it's violent and i'm just a girl
word count: ~ 9k
read on ao3!
a/n: this is mostly porn and some very light plot. we're mostly just establishing these two for now – but more will come in the future as i build on this universe! thank you so much mya @cavillscurls for beta reading this mess, for giving joel's girl her fightin' name, and for generally holding my hand. ilysm honey
dividers by the lovely @saradika
follow @kiwisbellupdates and turn on notifications if you'd like to be notified when i post a fic!
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It’s loud. Loud enough to bruise. Monstrous pulses of bass resonate from the ground into veins and lungs and muscles. No choice but to swallow. 
In those rare moments when the music recedes, it's the swell of the audience, the cloying aroma of beer and the crunch of peanut shells underfoot. It’s the rapacious jeers and whoops from a crowd who refuses to let silence infest. Chest-deep belching and beer-guzzling and bet-placing. Illicit handshakes that become permissible for the next hour. 
The lights of the arena dazzle—rhythmic hues of flashing yellowblueorange strobing brilliantly above to the throbbing bass. He always gets uproarious applause, makes an indelible impression: the stoic, humble shake of his wide shoulders as he bounces impatiently on the balls of his feet, the royal blue robe embroidered with gold, the eager kiss he gives his girlfriend as she gently slips the fabric off and gives him a brilliant smile. 
He isn't shy about the way he takes his girl into his arms, one big callused hand pulling her in at the small of her back. The audience roars. Cameras flash. Some sort of pre-fight ritual, some unfamiliars presume. Presses go wild for shit like this. Maybe he’s doing it for the cameras. 
Then he cups her face, her ear comfortably situated between his thumb and forefinger, briefly bunching her hair in his fist before he lets her go. And—no, this isn't for show. She says something nobody but he can hear, slipping his robe over her own shoulders, too-big and draping off her body, and he grins crookedly, half-listening to his coach rattle off the game plan. 
She kisses him chastely on the cheek, but it lingers, some whispers—promises, maybe—softly exchanged. Then she saunters off, hips swaying, tying his robe around her waist. 
“And now—”
The drawl of the announcer heralds a cheer. 
“Your heavyweight champion, your boy in blue, your reigning king of the K.O.—”
Another piercing uproar. There are few here in Austin who favour the opponent. They toast their cups of foamy beer to the man approaching the ring, still bouncing and shaking out his limbs and popping in a mouthguard. 
“You know him. You love him. You enjoy watching him bleed, but you love to watch him succeed. The Contractor—”
It’s his girl who screams this time, banging the flat of her palms on the floor of the ring, her eyes alight with excitement. Under the robe wrapped around her body is a tight black dress. She's a picture of paradox. Elegance rubs up against the ravenous spirit of the arena. The lights dance in her eyes. Hunger thrives in those irises. Her eyes don't waver from the man entering the ring. 
“Joel Miller!”
He slips under the ropes and raises his fists, now adorned in bright red gloves, high in the air. He’s dressed in blue shorts that reflect the strobing colours, torso bare, greying hair tousled. Tousled, no doubt, from her fingers. He stands like a Grecian statue before the crowd, made to be admired, and yet they feel distinctly as if they have intruded on an obscene, private moment. 
The judge, dressed in an old polo and a pair of dress slacks, exuding the illusion of propriety, enters next. Joel doesn't smile or wave at the crowd. Fans know his shtick—the cold, calculated killer with the K.O. record last season, disinterested in reputation, a man of focus. But he glances down at the girl just outside the ring and winks. Her answering grin tells a story. But it is not one for the cameras and the press and the beer-guzzlers. It’s just another length of the thread spooling between them. 
The opponent arrives—some up-and-coming challenger who goes by Ricky The Great and wears a plastic gold crown as he emerges from the darkness; yawn—and the audience promptly begins their jeers. It’s Texas. Here, Joel Miller owns the scene. That's just the way the cookie crumbles. 
Ricky The Great, all glamorous smiles and brush-offs in the face of so much heckling, shrugs off his fire truck-red robe and climbs into the arena. He bumps gloves with Joel, who kneels down and bumps gloves with his girl’s bare fists. The judge speaks to both of them—something about a clean fight, nothin’ dirty now—and the crowd draws a collective breath. The music peters. For a moment, there's silence. 
The bell rings and the roar of the crowd crescendos. 
Joel makes the first hit. He doesn't bother circling his opponent for long; he strikes precise and true and knocks Ricky’s head back. The rippling of his muscles as he throws his first punch is taut, intricate. A delicate transfer of energy. There's none of the same finesse in the way Ricky strikes: he’s flighty, uncertain, too stiff in his attacks. But he’s got strength, and his blows land. 
The first strikes Joel on the left side of his face, a low thud of impact that makes the audience recoil. 
She’s lurching forward, spitting venom, hurling fire at the challenger: Oh, fuck that! Is that all you can do? My mother’s dog hits harder than that!
The Contractor shakes it off, back on the defensive, and look at the boy in blue carry the fight, he’s got his arms up to block the next, and he’s returning each punch like he’s making conversation, and folks—folks!—the first round is over, the Contractor is fired up, and he’s not going to let another hit get past him, don't mess with Miller, folks, don't mess with Miller!
With a thick forearm, he swipes his sweat-matted curls away from his sticky forehead and lowers himself into the opposite corner from Ricky The Great. 
“You gotta keep your guard up, Texas,” says a sweet, sultry voice—she’s hopping up into the ring, handing him a water bottle. “Don’t get cocky.”
He squirts the water into his mouth and all over his face while his coach Fred takes a knee beside him. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Your lady’s right. Don’t gotta be on the offensive the whole damn time. Hit him, but hit him smart. He’s a rookie.” Fred claps him hard on the shoulder. “Yeah?”
Joel nods, his brow lowered, his face set in a firm scowl. The Texas Hold ‘Em, she calls that look. Means he's done playin’.
Fred smacks him twice on the cheek. “You gonna fight like you mean it?”
“Goddamn right.”
“You gonna hit the kid like he owes you money?”
“Goddamn fuckin’ right.”
Fred grunts, satisfied. “Good. Then get your ass up and fight like a man, so you can take your girlfriend to dinner. Eh, asshole?” 
She bites her bottom lip. “You gonna take me out?”
Joel inhales sharply through his bruised nose as she toys with the tie of the robe around her waist. “Tomorrow night,” he says. “White Rose.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes are doe-like. “Better win this fight, then, Texas. Maybe I’ll treat you.”
She slips under the ropes and winks, settling in for round two. Joel knocks his gloves together and stands up, shaking himself out. 
Ricky The Great is giving him a great, bloodied smile, rolling his head around his shoulders. “Hell of a fight you put up,” he says good-naturedly as they meet in the centre of the ring to bump gloves again. “Hell of a pretty girl, too.”
A minute narrowing of brown eyes gone beetle-black. A careful and measured silence as he awaits the next words he knows will decide the course of the night. 
“You’ll let me have a go with her after, right?”
The bell chimes. The crowd roars. 
Headlines stamped bold-faced on front pages by morning will only beckon a bigger crowd by the next fight. 
RICKY THE GREAT K.O.’d IN SECOND ROUND: THE CONTRACTOR REIGNS
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You listen to the rhythmic thud, thud, thud of his fists hitting the bag as your teeth absently chew the end of your pen to plastic mulch. 
His back is facing you, huge and muscled and rippling with every blow he lands on the bag. Gruff exhales are punched out of him, the deep purple hue of the bruises on his chest pulling taut over tanned skin. He's quiet, typical after a fight, the adrenaline of the ring accumulating in the weight of each punch. 
“Joel, honey, a couple venues are asking for you by name. Say they want you in… let’s see, Wyoming, New York, and Las Vegas. Should I tell them you're local only?” 
He doesn't answer, the rhythm of his punches never faltering, the cascading path of his spine flexing, dripping beads of sweat. There are dimples in his lower back. 
“Joel?” 
He isn't just letting off steam. 
He’s mad. 
You sigh, peeling yourself away from your desk and placing your hand between his shoulder blades. He shows his blows, grasping the bag to keep it still, his head briefly lolling low as you rub his sweat-slick back. 
“Come with me,” you say softly, pressing a soft kiss to one of the bruises on his shoulder. He takes a moment to shuck off his gloves, dropping them to the floor and following you to the desk. His hands are still wrapped, knuckles bruised beneath. You guide him gently to sit in your chair while you shuffle through items in the drawers to produce a cloth. You wet it with your water bottle, now lukewarm, and gesture for his hands as you sit on the desk. You begin to unwrap the gauze on his left, letting it rest in your lap. 
You make quick work of the wraps and his split knuckles, gently cleaning away the dried blood and making sure no dirt has accumulated. He flexes his fingers when you're finished and seems to relish the twinge of pain that accompanies it. 
“You should take it easy on your hands after a fight, honey. Rest up before the next.”
It's lost on him, of course. He hardly sleeps. But he nods, one hand on your thigh, rubbing circles over your hip bone. “I know.”
You smile faintly, touched by his attempt to placate you despite the distant glaze over his eyes, and begin to clean the cuts on his face: one on his lip, his chin, and just below his swollen eye. To his credit, he doesn't flinch much. You've been patching him up long enough. 
“Wanna tell me what happened, Texas?” 
His eyes shutter, head ducked to evade the tender press of the washcloth to his chin. You frown. “Joel.”
He just shakes his head. You shouldn't have to hear shit like that. And he knows that you know, but you don't say a word, humming softly, the melody of letting it go. Joel grasps your free hand and threads his fingers through yours, his mouth meeting your unmarred knuckles. 
“Baby,” you coo, “I need to get you cleaned up. Look at me.”
He lifts his eyes as best he can with one sealed a quarter shut, and you click your tongue softly. “Nobody gets a hit in on my man. Fucking asshole.”
“‘s okay, baby.” He kisses the inside of your wrist and you bite down on a laugh when his moustache tickles your sensitive skin. “I’m okay. Had my coach there with me.”
“Fred’s a pretty good guy,” you say coyly. 
Joel hauls you abruptly onto his lap. You yelp, winding your arms around his neck to steady yourself. His lips find your jaw, ghosting along the line of it. “You know I ain't talkin’ about Fred.”
“Take it easy,” you implore him. “You’ve got a split lip and a swollen eye, killer. Can’t go getting all sweet on me.”
He harrumphs, your grumpy old dog, and continues to kiss you anyway, nosing at your cheek so you’ll turn your head to the side. He places his lips on your pulse point and lets them linger there awhile. 
At last, he tells you the truth. “He asked if I’d share you.”
You scratch your nails at his scalp, tousling his sweaty curls. “Hmm. Wouldn't be the first time. Remember Galveston?”
His grip instinctively tightens around your waist. “Fuckin’ asshole.”
“You got him good, though.”
“Goddamn right.”
“And I got a real nice night out of it. Fuck, that hotel room. The continental breakfast. The bath.”
“That fuckin’ dress,” he adds, nipping your jaw. “Could've eaten you alive.”
“You did.”
Joel chuckles, kissing his way back to your mouth. “Never goin’ back to that bar again, though.”
He’d started a good-and-proper fight in the dive bar that night a few years back over some piece of shit who pinched your ass in front of Joel. Your killer had made quite the reputation for himself… after you and Fred bailed him out of the county jail with a decent rap sheet to take back home as a souvenir. From the proud gleam in his eye that night, you guessed he'd happily paste that record to the refrigerator if he had his say. 
“I don’t know, honey. Folks in that town know not to mess with Texas.” 
He gives you a hard look. Goddamn right. 
“You had me going there for a minute during that first round,” you tell him, cupping the good side of his face. “You feel okay?”
He studies you, fingers idly tracing your vertebrae. “Yeah, baby. I’m good.”
“You still feel like that dinner at the White Rose?”
He grins crookedly. “If you let me pick your dress.”
You smile, brushing some wet curls away from his forehead. “Anything you need.”
Kissing him deeply, you lick your way into his mouth, your thighs hugging his hips. Joel groans, pulling you snug to him by the small of your back, and you feel him begin to fill out his shorts, his length warm and heavy against his leg. You roll your hips, desire tingling at your fingertips and spreading inward. 
It’s warm and sticky, this love he has. It’s the way the sunlight glues a gold shine to his skin when he first wakes and it’s the boundless crooning melody of “Purple Rain” in your ear as he's winding down from a fight. He’s the muggy fingers of dusk, languid and lazy on your body, gold darkening to black as you become a thing he seeks to cover, conceal, make only his. 
He suffocates. It’s how he best knows to show you his love. 
Joel tugs your hair so you’ll tip your head back and leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses up your throat, stern in his nibbles and bites, teeth scraping along the cut of your jaw. 
“Joel…” 
“You know what I need.” Joel jerks his chin in the direction of the bench. “Go and spread ‘em, nice and wide for me.”
Oh, you think, noting the tension that still coils in his shoulders. Oh. 
Your heart thunders as you obey, crossing the room and lowering yourself onto the adjustable bench, thighs straddling the cushion. Joel’s eyes are catlike, pupils puffy, predatory. He prowls toward you, dropping to one knee, near-clinical in his assessment of your posture, your heaving chest, the slight quiver of your thighs as he lifts his hands to squeeze your soft flesh. 
“Wanna see you,” he says plainly. “Show me.”
You’re giddy with excitement as you lift the hem of your top and toss it aside, giving him a good view of the white lace cupping your breasts. Joel hums, shifting closer, easing your thighs open to fit his broad shoulders. 
One of his hands migrates from your hip to your ribcage, his thumb brushing over the soft swell of your breast. You shudder, letting him explore you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. 
“Take this off,” he says. You reach for the clasp of your bra and let it join your discarded shirt. The rough pad of his thumb rolls gently over your nipple as your skin puckers and you begin to stiffen. 
“Joel,” you whisper. He tuts you into silence and warms your sternum under his palm. 
“Relax, baby. Let me see you play for a little while.”
Leaning back on the bench, your hand trails down your body, fingers dancing on your soft, sweet skin, and Joel’s licking his lips before you can even reach the apex of your thighs—lifting your skirt and showing him the simple cotton panties covering his meal. You’ve darkened the fabric with your arousal. 
“Goddamn vision,” says Joel. “So fuckin’ pretty. You need someone to pay her some attention?”
“Please,” you mewl, your fingers swiping lightly over your clit. “Please, baby, I need you so bad.”
Joel lowers himself beneath your skirt and presses a soft kiss to your pussy over your panties. Your hips buck instinctively, seeking his mouth, but Joel presses his palm flat against your lower belly. 
“Joel…”
“Lie still, sweetheart. I need a taste.”
You whine, a bit petulant, but let him take his time, his tongue darting out to lick you over your underwear. The muffled pleasure makes you choke on air, your head falling back against the bench. You lose sight of his head under your skirt, unable to grasp his hair or guide him closer, unable to do anything except let him take what he wants. 
Back when he used to smoke, Joel found a replacement drug between your legs. He’d lick and suck at your clit until he no longer craved the sweet stick of nicotine to his lungs; sometimes, on fight nights like this one, he’ll spend hours with his mouth on your body to quell the buzz of adrenaline that beat his heart against his ribs. He needs his hit in the shape of you. 
His new habits had carried over in the years since he quit. Now, he’s dimpling your thighs with his fingers, keeping you spread open as he teases you with his mouth, making out with your pussy. He swallows your sweet little moans and inhales your scent and loses himself entirely in the pleasure of being between your thighs. 
“Fuck, baby—” Your voice breaks into a whimper as he at last shifts your ruined panties aside and slides his hot tongue through your weeping slit. “Ahhhh, fuck. Yeah, right there.”
He groans at the first real taste of you, drenched and puffy and practically crying for him, your hips grinding in time with the swirling motions of his tongue. The sting of the cut on his lip, soaked in your wetness, does little to deter him. He delves into you, the slope of his nose pressed against your sensitive little clit as he glides the tip of his tongue around your hole. Your hands find your tits, squeezing and rolling your nipples between your fingers, head lolling against the cushion of his bench. 
Joel slides the flat of his tongue through your slit repeatedly, lavishing attention on your folds with his lips, kissing you deeply and fervently, the consistent pressure pooling in your core. Your stomach tightens when he sucks your clit between his lips, moustache prickling your thighs as he hugs your thighs around his shoulders. They rest on his back, your toes curling with the mounting pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your slick pearl and takes it into his mouth. 
“Ohhhh, yes. Yesyesyes, just like that. Fuck, baby, that feels soooooh!”
Joel growls, crushed into your pussy, deafening himself as he holds your thighs firm around his ears, split knuckles stinging. He needs this. He’ll die if he doesn't have this. Your gooey-sweet body cups him in a soft, glowing light, warmth wiggling out from the core of you and splitting him down the middle. He eats you until you're sobbing his name, begging to come, jerking your hips around under the weight of his tongue against your clit. 
“Joel, I’m…”
He knows. He can feel it. You pulse slowly, rhythmically, your stomach tight and your hips grinding up into his face. With one finalistic twitch of your thighs, your leg kicks out, and you come, your head thrown back against the bench, your entire body seizing with Joel’s head fixed between your legs. 
He doesn't stop when you begin to shiver on your way back down, licking up the release from your tight little hole and slathering it over your folds just to drink it back up again. You give him a gurgling moan, reaching down to shuck your skirt up and reveal his face: pupils wide, fingers dimpling your thighs, he looks intoxicated. Gently licking your puffy clit, he swirls his tongue over it, and you gasp, your fingers curling in his sweaty locks. 
“Joel, up,” you plead, tugging on his hair. He groans, absconding from your oversensitive pussy, his mouth leaving messy kisses up your belly. 
He rests his chin there, looking dazedly up at you. He slowly drags his tongue over his bottom lip, his moustache slick with you. Your thighs suffer a phantom twitch as you watch him idly clean himself up. “Kiss me,” you croak, hauling yourself upright and cupping the back of his neck in your hand. 
He does, licking at your kiss-bruised lip, begging for entry. You grant it, tasting your own release on his tongue, a little dazed yourself by the heady tang. Joel’s big arms wrap around your hips, pulling you closer by the small of your back. He breaks the kiss just to tilt your chin up with his nose and nestle his face in the crook of your neck. 
“I’m all yours, Texas,” you whisper, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Always have been.”
And the smug bastard grins, the shape of it burned into your throat. “Yeah, I know.”
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“Miller, your girlfriend's here.”
Ben doesn't even bother to look up from the books as you breeze past his desk with a paper bag in your hands. 
“Hi, Ben,” you chirp. 
“Hi, honey. He’s in the ring.”
“Thanks!”
Joel, meanwhile, unstraps his gloves, clapping Hank on the shoulder. “Good fightin’, man,” he says. 
The younger guy wheezes out a cough as he sheds his own gear. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get the shit kicked outta me by you anytime, Miller.”
You appear around the corner, all smiles, carrying his lunch. Joel hops down from the ring and scoops you up in his arms, setting you down on the edge of the platform. You playfully dig your heels into his ass to pull him closer. 
“Smells so good, baby,” he says, grinning against your mouth, the kiss turning into a mess of lips and teeth. 
“Me or the food?”
He gives your ass a swat. “What'd you bring me?”
“BLT on rye from Nico’s. Because you didn’t eat breakfast,” you say pointedly. 
Joel drops his forehead to your shoulder. “Shit. Sorry, coach.”
“You can apologise later,” you purr, tilting his chin up with your fingers, “the way you do best. For now, just eat.”
“Get a fuckin’ room, Miller,” booms Willie from the opposite side of the gym, barrel-chested and big-headed, wailing on the pads his much smaller trainer holds at arm’s length. You roll your eyes, handing the sandwich to Joel. 
But he puts his hands right on your ass and yanks you closer, his teeth gnashing out to catch a nipple through your dress. “Don’t you dare go all male,” you chide. “You're just hungry.”
“Fred won't let me fight him,” grumbles Joel, unwrapping the sandwich and diving in, one hand still kneading your ass. His second nature is touching you. His fingers drum along your vertebrae in the back-and-forth rhythm of a fight. 
“That’s because Fred wants you fighting strangers only,” you remind him, plucking his towel from the rope and tousling his sweaty curls. “And so do I.”
You dry him off, sweat and a little blood soaking into the pile, as Joel buries his face between your tits. You smack him upside the head.
“Miller,” calls Fred, hurrying toward the pair of you, “I need a syllable.”
Joel huffs, dropping into a chair and pulling you with him. You toss the damp towel aside and brush his curls away from his forehead. He continues to devour his sandwich like it's his last fucking meal despite your slow downs and don’t chokes, one strong arm banding around your waist. 
Fred tucks a cigarette behind his ear, his eyes a little wired. “I’ve got Danny Cain on the phone in my office, and he's asking' for you.”
You frown. “He reps The Preacher.”
“Yeah. He fuckin’ does.” Fred sounds damn near breathless. “And The Preacher wants to fight you, Miller, so you'd better get into my office and answer that fuckin’ line.”
Joel pats your ass and stands with you. “Jesus, Fred, all right. C’mon, baby.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, the coach plucks the cigarette from his ear. “I’m going for a smoke. Don't fucking fuck each other in my office, or I swear to God—”
“Keep your whistle on, Freddie,” you call over your shoulder. You can feel the backdraft of the steam billowing from his ears when Joel gives your ass another firm swat. 
“Baby, this is huge,” you tell him, locking yourselves inside Fred’s office. His line blinks red. “If you can win against the Preacher…”
“I get to rub it in that God-fearin’ asshole’s face forever.”
“And you’ll steal his record.” You playfully gnash at the tip of his nose, and he grabs a handful of your ass, pulling you with him. 
“You're goddamn right I will.” Joel grins, lounging in Fred’s chair and picking up the receiver. “Miller.”
His hand beckons you as he tucks the phone between his chin and shoulder. You slide back into his lap and put the phone on Speaker. 
“It’s good to finally talk with you, Joel.” It's the gruff drawl of Danny Cain, extremely-former heavyweight champ. “My guys and I have been sniffin’ after you for a while now.”
Joel draws little rings over your spine with his fingers, connecting them like links on a chain. “Y’know, I used to watch your fights as Genesis all the time with my pops before he went.”
You nip his ear over the subtle dig. “Listen, man, after the ratings you drew in for the fight against that idiot kid the other night, it’d be idiotic not to put you up against David.”
Your brows lift suggestively, and Joel’s teeth gleam in the relative darkness as the corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked smile. “That so?”
A brief pause. You picture Cain’s chest deflating in a cold sigh, frost creeping over all that he breathes on. “That's so. Ratings gold, and we’re willing to split the difference on travel if you're willing to meet in the middle. Crowd’ll go crazy to see the biggest names in heavyweight knock skulls. If you agree, I’ll be calling your agent.”
Joel’s grin widens, calluses playing upon the soft flesh of your inner thigh, inching his way under your dress. “My agent will be mighty pleased to hear from you,” he says, punctuated by a firm press of his palm to your warm core. “Better be nice to her. She can be a real biter if you ain't careful.”
You grasp his wrist and use his hand to pull your panties aside, bringing two of his fingers to swipe through your slit. Joel watches them emerge glistening, eyes slits beneath his lashes, as Cain says, “Gonna need a yes or no from you, Miller.”
Joel’s gaze is hawklike as you bring his fingers to your mouth and slide your tongue along their length. “Yeah.” His voice is coarse as the white scarring over his knuckles. “Yeah, you got yourself a deal.”
Cain grunts his approval, and you both clock the gentle scratching of pen on paper. “Is your agent around to talk now, or should I wait ‘til later?”
You lift your brows, sealing your lips over his fingers, letting them slide, hot and wet, down your throat. You taste the tang of your arousal, blooming outward from your core as Joel’s free hand greedily bunches the fabric of your dress. You’re pressed flush to his chest, your tongue licking sweat and slick from his fingertips. 
“Sorry, Danny, my agent’s got her mouth full at the moment. Can’t quite talk.” 
Joel’s pupils are puffy in the darkness. Your body is illuminated by the small window in Fred’s office. He likes it when he's swallowed by black. You're the one who looks best in the light, anyway. “Later’s good. Lookin’ forward to takin’ down your Preacher.”
“Careful, Miller. Ego like that will get you in trouble,” says Cain.
“Ego’s got me this far,” says Joel. He’s stopped listening. “See you in confessional.”
And he hangs up the phone, yanking you around the waist so you're straddling his hips, sitting nice and pretty on his lap, his fattening length sitting heavy against his thigh. 
Your smile is a wicked, crawling shiver that begins at his tailbone and creeps upward. “You Godless bastard.”
“Tell me all about it,” he says, reaching around your body and shucking your skirt up around your hips. “C’mere.”
You bite down on your grin, cupping his cheek in your palm and kissing him. Joel capitalises on his chance to swallow you whole, prying your mouth open, sliding his tongue along yours, his palms sliding up your arms, conjuring goosebumps. 
“My beautiful girl,” he groans, nipping hungrily at your bottom lip. “My perfect, sweet, mean fuckin’ girl. Gonna take down that goddamn Preacher. Gonna take you to Italy.”
“Mmm, Italy.” You sigh happily against him, tasting memory. Gelato and baked ziti. Suntanning on white sand. Rolling around beneath fresh linens and lounging, catlike, on beach chairs, a drink always in hand. The cloying coconut notes of sunscreen and the supple flesh of your ass as he took his time rubbing it all in. “I miss Italy.”
Joel preens at the sound of you practically purring, your body flowering for him, nuances hidden in the slight swirling of your hips, the greedy fistfuls you take of the hair at the nape of his neck. He tilts his chin up, drinking down the proximity of you, your skin silk and perfume and memories of years he’s given you. Your lust-soaked pupils expand, wet and rimmed red near your waterline, desperation you will not vocalise. He watches you teeter on the precipice of your pride and pulls you closer, priming your body to tip sweetly over the edge. 
You gasp into his mouth as he hooks his fingers beneath the straps on your shoulders and abruptly yanks down the top of your dress. The fabric pools at the flare of your waist, your nipples stiffening as your tits confront cool air. Joel’s eyes droop, black as pitch, watching the light shift over your heaving chest. 
Your breath catches when he touches you. And his hands are there, because they must be, because there is no other choice, curling around your ribs, thumbs brushing the supple swell of your breasts. The shiver wrecks you, coiled tight around your spine, your underwear dampening. You sit right atop his thick, persistent length, grinding absentmindedly to relieve the pressure winding around your stomach, and the fact that you’re in Fred’s office becomes a microcosm of you-and-Joel. There is nothing but. 
Joel studies you like he’ll be tested: eyes following the path of his hands, he does not once blink, that suffocating black gaze cupping hot wax over your belly, letting the makeshift bowl tip out in increments. He knows how to keep you alight just long enough to turn needy, desperate, close to inhuman. 
“Baby,” you croak, watching the callused tips of his fingers meet your nipples, pinching softly, not quite enough to hurt, just enough to feel it in the steady dripdripdrip of your arousal. You’re pooling in your panties, heady and warm and too-big for this small, small room. Need pushes outward against the walls, boxing you in tight, locking you in gravity with his body.
Joel clicks his tongue. “Be nice ‘n’ quiet, now. Fred’ll have a bird.” 
“Oh, please.” Fred doesn’t know half the things you’ve done in his office. You grind down on Joel’s erection and watch his bared teeth glimmer. You need him now. 
Head swimming, honeyed and slow, Joel languidly nuzzles his face between your breasts, alternating between soft licks and playful bites. Your sternum is electrified, your bare skin humming for his touch. Joel cups the scruff of your neck in his rough hand and leaves open-mouthed kisses from your throat to your jaw. You moan, your head lolling backward, cradled safely in his palm, pushing out your breasts to give him better access. He grins, chest puffing up, leaving a deeper-than-usual imprint of his teeth in your pulse point. Your answering shudder, your throaty little groan, your tug on his hair, bordering on painful, please him to no end. His cock twitches underneath you, aching to be freed.
“Actually, baby, go ahead and be as loud as you like. I sign his checks.”
Your reproach is halfhearted, muffled in his throat, the echo of the fightin’ bell vibrating low in your body. “I sign his checks,” you point out, nibbling his earlobe, your fingers tugging his too-long curls. He needs a cut before his next fight. 
Joel chuckles, pressing his fingers to your clit over your ruined panties. “You need me in here? Need me nice ‘n’ deep?” 
You moan like a whore at the friction, hips bucking. You pulse uselessly, emptily, the slow grind of your clit along his length not enough. “Joel, please… fuck, I need… need you inside. Please fuck me, honey, please. I’ll die if you don’t fuck me.”
“Oh, baby,” he says mockingly, shifting your panties to the side and sliding his fingers through your soaked slit. “So fuckin’ wet. Poor baby girl needs a mean old man to show her a good time.”
Your eyes are frenzied, wild, sweat glistening at your temples. You nod frantically, your hand dipping between your bodies to squeeze his cock over his shorts. Joel grunts, fisting your hair. “I need it,” you mewl. “Fuck, I need it. Need your big fucking cock. You’re so big.”
The harsh rapping of knuckles on Fred’s office door deters neither of you. Still grinding, still palming at him, you don’t stop, arousal clouding your judgement. “Dirty fuckin’ girl,” Joel grits out. “He’s right outside. You wanna make him mad?”
You whine. You don’t want to piss off Fred—not really. 
But you’re nodding anyway, rocking yourself against him, puffing out incomplete wisps of his name that dissipate as smoke on the air.
The knocking escalates, now desperate.
“I swear to God,” shouts Fred, pounding hard on his door, “if you two don’t stop right now, I’m banning the both of you for fucking life.”
Joel groans, letting Fred hear it, his forehead resting against yours. “Goddammit.”
You pout, hips slowing to a crawl on his lap. Your core is still tightly-wound, his erection no less firm against your inner thigh, but the moment has passed. For now. 
“Later,” you whisper.
He gives your tits a fond squeeze before he helps you secure your straps back over your shoulders. 
Later. 
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“Just like that, baby. Good. That’s a good girl.”
“It doesn’t feel right, Joel.”
“That’s because you’ve never done it before. It’ll take time. Now, c’mon, arms up.”
You huff, raising your fists the way he’s taught you, letting him adjust your stance as he circles you. “Higher,” he says plainly. You obey, your left hand obscuring your face; Joel curls his own fist around it and untucks your thumb. “Thought I taught you how to throw a good punch. What’s this?” He wiggles your thumb. 
Your Joel is all business when it comes to self-defence. Your face warms as he puts his hands on your waist to shift your feet, but he’s clinical. He doesn’t let you steal a kiss or flirt your way out of a lesson.
Plenty of time for that once I know you’re safe, he says. Bastard.
“That’s good, baby. Much better.” And fuck it all, his praises make you a little more pliant to his commands, buzzing with the prospect of finally getting him into bed tonight. If you listen, you’ll get out sooner, and you’ll get his dick. You cycle your mantra in your head as Joel lifts his naked palms to you. 
“Now,” he says, “you ready to fight?”
You glare. “Not before you announce me.”
The grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. He may be stern about your teachings, but he’s a sucker, and he’s always been.
Joel raises his voice to a rare boom, alerting those few stragglers still packing up their gear around the pair of you. “You know her. You love her. If you don’t, you better check your goddamn priorities. You wanna see her kick some ass.” He’s cupping his hands over his mouth and mimicking the roar of the crowd. “She’s The Agent, and she’ll sign your contract… for termination.”
A few stray whoops and whistles erupt from the meagre crowd. You take an extravagant, swooping bow and bring your fists back up at the ready. 
“C’mon, now. Show me what you've got,” says Joel, clapping his palms together and presenting them for you to punch. “Keep your guard up.”
You only waver for a moment, and you’re certain he sees the frown that ticks across your brow. “I don't wanna—”
Joel shakes his head, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “You can't hurt me, baby. C’mon. Be mean. Be a killer.”
Your face screws up in concentration as you aim a blow at his palm. You’re thrown off balance more than he, who barely budges. He steadies you with a hand at your waist and merely repositions you to hit him again. The only satisfaction you find is in the demarcated circle of tender pink that’s begun to grow where your punch landed. 
“Not bad, if you could stay upright,” says Joel.
“Do you want to get your dick inside me tonight, Miller, or would you prefer to sleep on the couch?”
His crooked smile ignites your competitive side. “Hit me again.”
“I was put on this earth to be pretty and shout at people, Joel. I was not meant to fight. That’s why you’re here.”
“And you do a beautiful job, baby. Now, hit me.”
Throwing less of your body and more of your arm into the second blow, you manage to strike at his hand hard enough to rock it backward. He grunts his approval and nods for you to go again. “Don’t overextend your arm. You’ll pull somethin’ that way. Keep it tight to your body, block your precious organs, and hit me nice ‘n’ controlled.”
You’re alarmed by the low pitch of his voice as he instructs you, the timbre pulling taut at your core. It’s the same tone he uses when he wants to direct your body, mould you the way he likes, make you bend to the shape that pleases him best. Your fist tightens and you hit him again. 
For making me wet at the gym, you asshole. 
You throw another punch, remembering to keep your arm tucked in, your gut protected, and a satisfying groan rumbles in his chest.
“That’s it, baby.”
You’ve backed him into the corner of the ring, his spine on the ropes, your knuckles stinging from impact after impact until—
“All right, killer,” he says, closing his hand around your fist when you land your final punch. “That’s enough. Your knuckles are gonna split, and it’s my job to be the bloody one. Right?”
Your chest glistens with a thin smattering of sweat, your noses mere inches apart as he sweeps his gaze over your weary body and licks his bottom lip. Your mouth opens as if to catch the breath he lets go.
He brings your sore hand to his mouth. “Home?” he says gruffly.
His moustache bristles around the crest of your knuckle, mouth pursed to slot perfectly in place. There are few spaces he could occupy that don’t feel as right as this.
His mouth is on you before you’ve turned the key to the front door of your home. He stumbles with you in his grasp, his hard chest flush to your back, walking you toward the bedroom with little ceremony. He’s feverish in the way he mouths wetly at your throat from behind, his fingers splayed over your belly to maintain his own balance. Still, his desire is clumsy, staggering, his other hand kneading your ass despite the fact that it’s wedged between your bodies. 
“Easy, Texas,” you laugh. It turns breathless as he sucks on your pulse, his hot mouth drawing blood to the surface just beneath your jaw, the hairs of his moustache tickling your sensitive skin. Your hand flies back, burying your fingers in his locks, as Joel’s grabby hands fiddle with the straps of your dress. 
“Want it off,” he grumbles. 
You coax him with a couple slow downs while he fumbles with the fabric, and he just shakes his head. “No. Want it off. Lift.”
“Caveman.” You roll your eyes, raising your arms above your head to placate him. He tugs your dress up and over your head, tousling your hair in the process, reaching around your body to squeeze your tits in his hands. 
Another laugh bubbles up. “No taking it slow tonight?”
He lands a smack on your ass. “Fuck that. Bend over.”
Your shared bedroom boasts a California King, a smattering of houseplants (your idea—for fresh air), and a mirror on the ceiling, directly above the bed. That was Joel’s idea. 
Giggling, you lower yourself over the mattress as he drops to his knees behind you, kissing all the way down your spine, mouthing at the small of your back, hands roving and groping. He squeezes your hips, pinning you against the mattress, his hot breath lifting the hairs on your skin. His lips are wet, warm, pliant against your core—and you choke when he slathers his tongue over your panty-covered asshole, his huge arms hugging your thighs around his ears. 
“Joel, holy fuck. Oh my God—”
He bites into the flesh of your ass, his fingers sliding achingly slow up your inner thigh. Your mouth hangs open, cheek pressed to the mattress, as he slides your panties aside and licks a hungry stripe between your folds. 
“Ohhhh, God, baby, yeah. Yeah, keep going. Please keep going.”
And he may be a complete asshole, but he’s nothing if not indulgent—so he yanks down your panties, grabs you by the hips, and roughly turns you on your back.
“Keep goin’?” he says gruffly, pressing his middle and ring fingers to your tight hole. “Then look up and watch yourself come in that mirror, baby.”
You shudder, tilting your chin up to catch your own eye in the mirror on the ceiling. It’s fucking obscene to see yourself spread out on the bed, Joel lying between your thighs, your chest rising and falling in the dim light of your twin orange lamps. You watch his hand creep up your belly, pressing gently on your sternum as if to anchor you in place, and a whimper leaves your mouth when he dips his head to taste you. 
His fingers slide through your wetness and stretch open your cunt as he laps lazily at your clit, keeping you malleable and relaxed and soaking-fucking-wet. Your back arches into his rough palm, a crescendo of Joel oozing from the corners of your mouth. He hums, adding to the chorus, his fingers’ percussive rhythm (in-out, in-out, punctuated by a tortuous curl against your sweetest spot) dragging out the song of your pleasure. He’s an expert by now. A fucking maestro.
“Ahh, yes, right there,” you gasp, your fingers threading through his hair, “rightthererightthererightthere! Yes, yes!”
You squeeze him as he fucks you with his fingers, relentless in the pursuit of his victory, your high. His lips, briefly mesmerised by the crease where your thigh meets your hip, now migrate to your pussy, flattening between your folds and flicking at your pearly wet clit. In the mirror above your head, you see the flutter of your thighs, the intake of breath, the greedy curl of your hand in his locks.
He’s going to fucking kill you.
You taste iron and realise you’ve bit your lip. Joel, of course, occupied by your pretty clit but spying to make sure you’re still watching your reflection, spots it, and slides his hand to your throat, squeezing gently at the pulse points on both sides before he slips the pad of his thumb past your bottom lip. 
You moan around him, your jaw forced open, blood smearing around the tip of his thumb, mingled with saliva. It blinds you, the fucking filth of it, as he removes his thumb only to hook his hand around your chin and flatten two fingers to your tongue. 
He likes to open you up this way. Your body takes him in so readily, happily sucking on the fingers in your mouth and squeezing down on those in your pussy like a goddamn bear trap. His healing knuckles sting from the sensation of being trapped deep inside you, where he fucking belongs. Tongue lapping at your clit, a cat to milk, Joel watches as your body begins to writhe underneath him, your eyes still dutifully fixed on the mirror, and he knows. 
He knows exactly the tells you begin to display for him: the hitch of your breath halfway up your throat, the way it hollows in a little pool, the perpetual grinding of your hips against his face. Your stomach is tightening, your cunt slick with the relentless push-pull of his fingers.
He removes his mouth briefly from your clit, using the heel of his palm instead, letting you roll your hips up against him. “Gonna come, baby?” he asks, a little breathless, eyes wild and black. 
You nod, whining, your fingers tugging at his scalp until tears prickle in his ducts. He groans, biting into your thigh, and watches as your pussy convulses, a drop of your own wetness splashing onto his forearm. 
A minute tick of his brow. 
Oh, yeah. He knows. 
“Fuck,” he says under his breath, the frothy slick of your arousal webbing between his fingers. “Yeah, you’re gonna fuckin’ come. You’re gonna get me all fuckin’ wet with this creamy pussy, baby.” He grins at the sight of the tears slipping from your eyes, your eager sucking as you take his fingers down your throat. “You’re gonna watch yourself squirt. You hear me?”
Your thighs twitch, your hips bucking in his hand, and he feels fucking strong. He feels like the goddamn winner. 
He takes his fingers from your mouth so he can hear your cries, your bruised lips spilling over with molten gold pleas and chants. It’s garbled, it’s nonsense, you’re coming—
And Joel, the fucking asshole, gets you there with a smile on his face, his palm rubbing hard against your needy clit, his fingers curling into the spot that forces the pressure up, up, out…
“Thaaat’s it, baby. Soak me, c’mon. Get me all wet.” 
“Joel, Joel, Joel, ffffffffffuck—”
It’s the intermittent hiss of a pressure-release valve, your juices splattering onto Joel’s chin, glistening obscenely in the hairs on his chest, your hips bucking wildly against his face. He growls into you, his hand pressing down on your belly as he fucks his fingers in and out, in and out, the filthy shlick of your wet cunt warming your cheeks. Joel’s mouth is latched to your hypersensitive clit as you writhe beneath him, lengthening the torture just enough to make you scream, your thighs suffocating him. 
More wetness spurts from your cunt as Joel retracts his fingers. Crawling back up your body with gentle kisses to your soft, sweat-slick skin, he pulls you slowly back into yourself, no longer staring absently at yourself in the mirror but blinking up at him, a sleepy smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. 
“Knew you could do it,” he says with a crooked grin. 
You smack his shoulder. “You're such a dick,” you croak. 
“That any way to say thank you, baby girl?” Joel takes your nipple between his teeth and playfully swats your other breast.
You tug his hair. “Joel!”
“Not quite.” He presses his lips to your sternum, his hands kneading your tits. 
Your moan is soft and sighing, your hips wiggling underneath him with what little room you have. “Mmm, yeah. Like that, baby. Touch me.”
“All I ever wanna do”—his mouth moves, carving a path to your jaw, the strong curve of his nose tilting your chin up so you’re forced to watch yourself in the mirror once more—“is touch you.”
His dick is a heavy, throbbing weight in his shorts, which he shucks down with little ceremony, tossing aside his shirt and socks so he can hover, skin-to-skin, above your body. 
Briefly, he studies you, swiping your tears away with his thumb, his arm flexing next to your head. You smile through your daze, cupping his cheek in your palm. The prickling of his beard makes an imprint on your skin as he nuzzles your hand.
“Your turn to watch,” you whisper, brushing the pad of your thumb across his chin. “Lie on your back.”
Joel rolls you on top of him, sitting atop his length, hot and pulsing beneath your messy cunt. You place your hands on his chest, gently rolling your hips. Joel groans, his hands flying to your hips.
“Jesus, baby.”
“You need someone to take care of you, Texas.” Your hands caress his chest, the rippling muscles of his biceps, the taper of his waist. “You worked hard today. You signed a deal.”
“You signed a deal. Shit—” His voice breaks as you take a playful bite of his throat, smacking your flank in feeble retribution. “Shit, baby. Sit on my dick.”
“You wanna come?” You grind down on him, coaxing precum out of his tip and cleaning it off his belly with your finger. Joel watches with lidded eyes as you spread it around your used clit. “Watch the mirror, baby.”
With your guidance, your nose tilting his chin skyward, Joel obeys, admiring the curve of your naked spine in the mirror, the way your body undulates on top of him. You're a fucking vision. He’s void of a reason you’d pick him, but your reverent hands are trailing up and down his muscled torso, and Joel doesn't give a fuck why as long as you keep choosing him. 
You finally reach between your bodies and sink down to the hilt. He bares his teeth, fingers ironclad around your hips. You’re careful in your study of him as you lift yourself up and drop back down, admiring the cut of his jaw as he keeps his head angled toward the mirror. 
And fuck, he stretches you—wrenched open around him, you’re consumed, filled to the throat, ruined, and Joel’s pleading with you to move, baby, but you don't know if you can. Your thighs tremble with the effort, your body weak from your orgasm, and you feel you’ve all but failed him until his hands begin to slide up your spine and pull you down, flush to his chest. 
“Just like this,” he says into your ear, wrapping his fist around your hair. “C’mon, baby. Ride me just like this.”
Your teeth latch onto his shoulder as you bob up and down on his dick, eliciting precisely the strained groans you want to hear from him. “That's it,” he huffs, his mouth perpetually open, sliding against your temple. 
He's still watching you writhe in the foggy mirror, the delicious dips and planes of your figure haloed by the fuzzy light pooling in the room. His cock twitches inside you, hot and wet and so fucking tight, your chests sliding together with the rhythmic dance of your joined bodies. 
It's a tangle of limbs and extremities and it smells like the musk of sweat, sex, perfume still lingering. It's the dizzying scent of your shampoo. It's your mewling cries of his name as you ride him like a spoiled fucking princess. His balls pull tight, his head swimming, spiralling with the feel of you so warm and soft in his arms. 
Joel’s tongue loosens, his high a foregone conclusion. “You wanted to ride me in that chair today. Ain't that right, baby girl? You wanted to get fucked all loose right out in the open. I’d do it. I’d sit you right on my dick in front of everyone else and let ‘em see how fuckin’ pretty you are when you come. None of ‘em could touch. All of ‘em wanna fuck you. They think you’re so goddamn pretty, so tight and soft. You wanna show ‘em?”
You suddenly seize, your hands grasping his hair, face buried in his throat, and you're gushing. You're fucking squirting again, and it’s everywhere: beading in the trail of hair on his belly, dripping down his balls, smearing between your bodies as you continue to ride him in the haze of your climax. 
“Oh, Jesus. Goddamn—shit—” 
Joel groans, his eyes at last shuttering as his arms wind around your body to clutch you tight. Teeth bared against your cheek, he pumps you full. It's hot, sticky, messy. It’ll need a change of bedsheets. It wrings every ounce of energy from his bones and fogs up the mirror until you're both smudges of skin and hair. 
You begin to giggle, your face hidden in the crook of his neck, your entire body trembling. Joel isn't sure what's funny, but he starts to laugh in tandem. 
“Gotta clean you up,” he mumbles, absently pressing kisses along your jaw. “Made a fuckin’ mess, baby.”
“Hmph. I’ll think about it.” You’re settling in for a winter’s nap, it seems, tucking yourself into his side. Joel caresses your back, delighted by the thrilling little shivers that visibly travel up your spine. 
His ears stop ringing after a minute or two. He stares up at the mirror for twice as long as that as clarity begins to seep back into the glass from the corners. Your lashes flutter against his bare skin every time you blink. 
“Do you really think I can beat him?”
The question lingers long after it's asked, the way smoke from a candle still swirls after it's burned out. 
You make a soft sound of acknowledgement. “What makes you think you can’t?”
“He’s a good fighter. Don’t matter that he’s an asshole.”
Your soft, melodic hum tells him you're falling asleep. “Funny. I say the same thing about you all the time.”
“Just…” He swallows. “Just promise me somethin’.” 
You lift your head, eyes alert and blinking. “Promise me that we’ll be good,” he says tightly. “That we could lose it all right now, right this second, and we’d still be okay. You’d still be here.”
You prop yourself up on your elbow. He wants to wipe away the gash between your brows. “I must not have done a very good job of lovin’ you if you really think I’d leave,” you say sweetly, your fingers trailing up and down his arm. “I’m in your corner, Texas. And it’s not just because you need me. We don’t need a big house and a pool and a home gym. We never used to have any of that.” 
You’re smiling now, eyes glittering in the relative darkness. Joel exhales, and his entire body shudders as if plucking out his lungs and lending them to you.
“I’ll love you when you win, and I’ll love you if you lose,” you tell him. “You’re my guy.”
Joel nods: a simple tip of his head. He doesn't need much more than that. 
He may not need to win, but for you, for this, he will. 
2K notes · View notes
dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
Note
mrs ma’am… dick pic jason todd is driving me up the WALL!!! please a spare crumb of our idiots 🙏🙏
they're back!! i was having withdrawal symptoms from not writing them for so long. this turned out smuttier than i intended. whoops.
**
He’s bored.
The constant string of messages serves as a concrete confirmation that he’s got too much time on his hands and that his mind has started to wander.
Part of you doesn’t mind. It’s nice to have a distraction from the last minute birthday party bustling around you. But that other part of you–that almost constantly nervous part–is wondering what exactly he’s up to.
Leave him alone for too long and he turns into something mischievous.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s found himself pulling a prank just because he’s nothing else to do.
First it was wrapping everything in your bedroom in tin foil. Second it was replacing all the photos in your apartment with pictures of Bob Ross. And the last prank he pulled was moving every single piece of furniture an inch to the left.
Your toes remind you of the pain that last prank caused and you’re quickly worried about what he might have planned this time.
It wouldn’t surprise you if he stole every single fork from your apartment and hid them in a stupid place. Hell, it wouldn’t faze you if you came home to find he’s changed the locks.
But you’re not expecting him to send you a photo.
The notification flashes up at the top of your screen and there’s a quick, sudden skip of your heart. You’ve found that it does that a lot lately when it comes to Jason. Found that there’s some niggling emotion you can’t quite unravel blooming behind your ribs.
He makes you nervous.
Hiding your phone from view you duck into a more quiet area of the party and open the message. A soft whine stumbles out from behind your teeth and you feel relentless heat kickstart in your gut.
He’s sprawled out on your bed.
And he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock.
Your mouth drops open and you almost start drooling at the sight of him. Between your legs aches and for a split second, you wonder if you could get away with rubbing one out right here. The fabric of your underwear starts getting damp, you feel it stick to the wet lips of your pussy and it’s just another sensation driving you half insane.
Jason’s hand can barely fit around his cock. The tips of his fingers almost don’t meet and you glance at your own hand, now filled with the knowledge that you would need to use both hands to jerk him off.
The head is flushed a deep red and the photo catches the slick shine of precum beading up from his slit. You want to taste him. You want him to taste you. Part of you can hardly breathe.
You: are you seriously jerking off in my fucking bed?? Jay: yup Jay: its a shame you're at that party Jay: i could've given you a show
An idea sparks white hot in your brain and there’s the edge of a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth.
You: send me a video You: wanna watch you
Jason doesn’t reply and you shift from foot to foot. Impatient. Horny. Rubbing your thighs together to try and starve off the ache in your cunt, your eyes lock on the sign for the bathroom. Throwing a precautionary glance around you, you shift and beeline for the door, thankful that there’s no one lingering in the hall.
Locking yourself in a stall at the end you close the toilet seat and sit down, fingers drumming across your thigh.
Jay: sent a video
Opening it up you’re immediately greeted with a choked off moan. The camera shakes for the smallest second before it focuses and you feel yourself tighten up, feel your pussy leak an embarrassing amount of arousal into your underwear.
Stroking his cock from base to tip Jason’s hips kick up to meet his hand. All the muscles in his abdomen catch and release and the flex of them makes you sweat. Thick veins run up the underside of his shaft and when Jason drags his fingers over them, he twitches, cock slapping against his belly.
Spitting into his palm Jason fists the leaking tip and you watch as his spit runs down the length of him before dribbling over his balls. Squeezing at the head he groans and you whimper in response.
Fucking up into his tight fist you hear the wet squelch it makes and then, ever so softly, Jason says your name.
The video cuts off and you tip your head back.
You: you're trying to kill me aren't you?? You: all this because i ate the last of your cereal You: you should be ashamed
The bathroom door slams open and multiple giggling voices echo when your name is called out, “Are you in here? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. We’re cutting the cake, come on!”
“Yeah, I'm here. Give me a second.” You answer, trying to keep your voice level, even.
You: you're meeting me once this party is over right?? You: i'll save you some cake Jay: text me when you’re ready to leave and i’ll meet you outside Jay: i expect two pieces minimum to make up for eating my cereal Jay: anything less than that and i’ll remove all the towels from your apartment You: fuck you Todd You: also thanks for the video you look really pretty jerking off You: double also if you leave a mess on my bed i’ll kill you You:  🔪🔪🔪
**
3K notes · View notes
pryllee · 1 month
Text
Whoops.
Blade x Fem! Reader
Injuries, confessing, teensy bit angsty, reader has wings, mwuah
A/N: Short summary, you got injured, blade doesn't seem to care much, you become mad asf and blurt out a confession on accident while Kafka and the others are in the room. I'll use normal text this time incase people can't see clearly.
Blade cleans out your wound apparently trying to be gentle yet fails horribly making his motions rigid as fuck.
You can't help but wince and flinch at the stinging sensation the alcohol dampened cotton ball rubs at the harsh bruise on your ankle.
"Fuck— ow! Do I really need a bruise cleaned out?" You sob in disdain, wings suddenly flinching as the cotton ball makes its way down the huge neon red slash on your back.
"Yes. Now stop moving so much." He scolded back in response, only pulling out a soft annoyed whimper out of your pursed lips.
"Bladie, y'know you should try to be a bit more gentle with her." Kafka sighs, seeming to feel bad for you.
As you tried to fly away during a mission to avoid a horrid predicament, one of the opposers had tugged onto your leg harshly, slicing your back in the process of trying to cut your wings.
"Not my fault she keeps squirming around so much." Grabbing a roll of gauze, wrapping it around your torso trying to avoid hindering your capabilities to fly — in short, trying not to wrap your wings along as well.
"There." He cut the gauze off, securing it in place as you see the others enter the room from behind.
They're probably here to grab a few things.
He stood up, returning to his normal stance, "Now, can I go Kafka?" Speaking impatiently. The tone and choice of words triggered something inside of you, furrowing your brows slightly.
"Aeons, Blade, if you never wanted to even come see me in the first place, you should've just stayed in your stupid training grounds mindlessly fighting your dumb inner demons." You scowled, earning a shocked look from Kafka, with the others turning their head in curiousity
"What?" Blade hissed, daring you to repeat those words you so unthankfully uttered after he helped you.
"Oh don't even. You clearly heard what I said you asshole — God why are you so fucking clueless whenever I come around? You always listen to Kafka, Kafka this, Kafka that." You mock him, adding more;
"I don't even understand why I like you!"
You abruptly cover your mouth almost instantly as shock took over your whole body, realizing what you had accidentally blurted out unconciously.
Silver Wolfs jaw seemed to drop, mouth agape from your sudden confession she and Firefly had accidentally stumbled into.
"Oh?" Kafka gave a small laugh, yet tears threatnened to spill from the embarrassment avoiding Blades eyes as you hurriedly got up, fishing up your discarded shirt making a mad dash out of the infirmary with your wings covering your whole upper half to try shield you from the eyes that were on you.
You couldn't even tell what the expression on his face was as you ran away in a fit of embarrassment.
Wanting to bury a hole to hide in forever, yet you couldn't. Only running outside onto the rooftop.
You held onto the railings, trying to take deep breathes, tilting your head backwards to stop the tears from flowing.
For some reason, you felt like snapping today. Maybe you woke up on the wrong side of bed, but who knows?
You nestled your head against your arms, resting against the ice cold metal. Till you suddenly heard the rooftop door fly open.
Soft yet loud footsteps could be heard approaching you from behind, making a few tears slip out dampening your sleeves slightly in the process.
It was obvious one of them told him to run after you — yet you just continued to burrow your head, hiding yourself in embarrassment hoping he'd just walk away like he always did after taking one glance to confirm you were fine.
Your wings again flinched at the sudden contact of a finger, "Piss off." You hissed, turning your head to the side trying to avoid his prying eyes.
"You liked me?" He asked, leaning against the railings you weren't facing.
You only remained silent, feeling like you could vomit at any moment with how your stomach felt like it was twisting out of anxiety. He tugged at your hair, making you face him earning an annoyed hiss.
"I'm sorry."
"...?"
He apologized...— He apologized ?
He let go of your hair, instead wrapping one hand around your neck as he leaned into your lips. Kissing you.
His lips felt rough, yet warm. The rest of his body seemed to be cold to the touch like a lifeless body, yet his lips felt warm against yours.
You pushed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tightly never wanting to let go — until you hear a ’ click! ’ from behind you.
"Whoops, didn't meant to interrupt the moment, sorry guys." Silver Wolf giggled amusingly with a camera in hand, causing the blood from your face drain.
You were about to run over to smack the camera out of her hands, but Blades grip on you intensified.
"Ignore her." He hummed.
"But—" As you were about to speak, he shut you up with a kiss once again as Silver Wolf took it as her cue to make a run for it.
Pulling away, his lips left a string of saliva connecting both of you.
Blade became a lot more doting after this.
187 notes · View notes
caramelcleopatraa · 26 days
Text
DADDY'S HANDS
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word count: 509
x: finally got something out (excuse any errors you see) :( I have 3 other imagines in queue right now. I should be able to get another imagine out by Friday. this was inspired from the video of him signing his merch.... obviously. aaanyways, the usual college is whooping my black ass and i'm still horny as ever :p. Enjoy :)
content: Roman Reigns x Reader, 18+ MDNI, hands.... that's it.
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You love his hands. It’s not your fault that your eyes gravitated to his huge hands engulfing regularly sized objects. Or the way that the veins in his hands demanded your attention while he was busy signing away an endless mountain of merch. You could get lost for hours imagining those hands all over your body. Pressing, pulling, dragging, and tugging at you. How his hands would look soaked and swimming in your juices. How his hand would hold your wrists above your head while he fucks you passionately. You knew that those same hands would be on you an hour later, but that hour felt so far away. You felt like an impatient kid waiting for a kids meal. You wanted him. Unknown to you, Roman had already peeped your quietness and noticed your eyes glued to his hands. He smirked to himself knowing you were lost in your imagination, your still body and blank eyes told him so.
“You okay?” His voice brought you out of your mind and back to the present. You shifted in your seat and gave him a genuine smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.” 
“I know,” Roman says confidently. The look of his face told you that he knew exactly what you were thinking about. You weren't sure if you should be embarrassed that you are so easy to read, or turned on because he knew exactly what you wanted. He knew exactly how your mind worked and what switches to flip to get you right where he wanted you. Realistically, he didn't have to do much. His body straining his all black outfit already formed a pool between your legs.
“I can take a break,” Roman says, closing the shiny sharpie and laying it down on the table. He was already moving towards you before you could form a response. Your eyes twinkled with desire for Roman. If there weren’t staff members in the room, you would let him bend you over the table and have his way with you. It felt like heaven finally feeling his hands on your waist, holding you tight. Your mind was running wild with all sorts of ideas of what he could do to you. But they all circled back to his hands. How they flipped you into the next position, how they would restrict your movements, how they would explore every part of your body. “What are you thinking about right now?” 
“Your hands,” you said with no hesitation. He smiles and takes his hands off of your hips to look at them closely in a pretend state of confusion. “My hands. What about ‘em?” You took his right hand in yours and replied, “How they’ll hold me place while you fuck me.” Roman’s eyes darkened and his smug smirk returned once again. He yelled at the staff to exit the room, and they followed instruction, fastly filing out of the room. 
“Get on the table.” You looked at him in question. “Why?”
“Cause i’m ‘bout to make your daydream come true. Hands above your head.”
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🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41
231 notes · View notes
velvrei · 1 year
Text
RUIN ME
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summary: robby is cobra kai’s top male fighter. the reader is cobra kai’s top female fighter. thr two are rivals, but a snake sleepover at kyler’s and robby’s forgetful mindset seems to change that matter.
pairings: robby keene x female!reader (horribly written enemies to lovers)
warnings: smut, porn with a plot, enemies to lovers, mirror sex, unprotected sex (use protection my loves) choking, hair pulling, PDA, slapping, dirty talk, angsty smut
word count: 11k+ (non-edited work)
author’s note: this is my first published work on here but i have many others on wattpad and ao3. (users velvrei for both if you’re anxious and would like to check that out.) i hope you enjoy :)
You didn't see yourself as a negative person unless it regarded Robby Keene. You didn't get along very well with him. Something about him just angered you.
First, it started when he joined Cobra Kai. You had always been a Cobra and thought it was unfair for him to just switch sides as he did. Yes, he had a horrible home life, but you were petty and you wanted all your attention back.
Then, it continued as you interacted with him. Everything he did came off as cocky. He acted like a dick toward you. One time, you got chosen to spar with him and he did it, but every chance he could he took you down even if it wasn't a part of the practice. That little shit.
And now, your hatred for Mr. Keene only grows as he continues to run his life at your dojo. Kreese loved you, Terry loved you, hell even Johnny loved you when he was your sensei because of your awesome listening skills but now this new kid came in and stole all your thunder. What a bitch.
The only person who knew about your hatred was your best friend Tory Nichols. Despite the differences in humor she still slithered her way into your mind.
You walked into the dojo with a dramatic sigh.
"Oh my god, what did Robby do this time?" Tory asked, the sarcasm stung you, in a good way. "Absolutely nothing, that's the problem. I don't understand why he gets all this attention over being a Cobra, like who gives a shit!?" You rambled to her as you took a sip from your water.
Once you finished, "Yeah. I guess Sensei just wanted to take him in or something. He is Johnny Lawrence's son, after all, you gotta expect a little reaction from people." Tory explained, which just angered you more. You didn't give a tiny fuck if he's Johnny's son.
"Oh yeah, big whoop." Your eyes rolled, and just as they fell Sensei Terry and Sensei Kreese strutted out from the back room in suits and dress shoes. What the hell?
"Y/N, Robby, get changed and meet us in the car. We have work to do." Silver said, throwing a dress at you and a suit at Robby. "What..." You whispered as you checked out the dress.
Robby had the same reaction, but after he processed he went into the back bathroom. "I call the bathroom first!" You called as soon as he made it to the door.
"Hell no you don't," Robby snarled, opening the bathroom door and letting it shut loudly to purposely make you irritated. After a minute or two, he walked out in his white button-up and tie. He looked really bad. Kind of.
"Go ahead, don't take forever," He said, brushing past you as his shoulder hit against yours. You stood angered, shooting a crude nickname his way before moping off into the changing room. You deviously switched the dresses to the sexy black dress you left in your bag.
When you walked out, Robby, Sensei Kreese, and Sensei Silver were already in the car. You studied Robby's expression as you opened the door and stepped in. He glanced at you, eyes roaming up and down the dress attempting to ignore the fact that it perfectly hugged your figure.
Sensei Kreese started up his car, while Robby tapped his leg onto the soft car floor impatiently. "What are we even doing out of class anyway?"
Silver's answer brought you back to reality. "We are going over to Daniel and Johnny's dojo. I want to formally apologize but in a way that shows I'm better than him." Sensei explained, glancing back at the two of you in the rearview mirror.
"You said Daniel and Johnny's dojo, right?" Robby said, his tone full of worry and anger. Your eyes rolled themself as you looked out the window, trying to drain out the complaining.
Of course, Robby had to ruin it only a couple of minutes later. "Y/N." You gave him a disgustful stare, his eyes meeting yours in intimidating eye contact. "We're here. Now get the fuck out before Kreese yells at us."
You had absolutely no idea why Terry needed to brag to Daniel about how awesome his dojo and students were, but who knows what could've happened if you cared enough to ask.
You went to open your door when Kreese opened it for you. He came over, "I don't know why he wants to 'apologize' so bad, but let's just get this over with or when we go back the dojo will be in flames." Kreese shared with a laugh.
You gave him a small chuckle then followed Sensei Silver into the dojo, which was unusually outside. The dojo had many rocks that even you could admit were quite beautiful. You stayed back so no one currently in the dojo could see you, per Silver's orders.
You were now shoulder to shoulder with Robby, waiting for the signal from Terry or Kreese. He looked over at you. You noticed a slight change in his pupil size, they dilated slightly and went back to his normal size. Why did they dilate when he looked at you...?
"You good, Keene?" You asked him, that normally wouldn't be your style of language toward him, but he seemed nervous for some reason. "Yeah, I'm good. Why do you care anyway?" There he was. Bitch.
You gave him confused look. Before you could question him, you heard Silver mention his favorite students, followed by your name and Robby's name. You smiled over at Robby, noticing how he said your name first.
Your satin dress fit perfectly, tiny black straps resting on your shoulders, the bottom diagonally cut just below your thigh. Robby was in a matching black suit and tie. Of course, Silver was being dramatic, but you knew if you or Robby refused it wouldn't end well.
"These are my two best students." You had no idea where he was going with this. He continued talking about his dojo and how much of a success it was, and somehow lead to apologize to Daniel for what he did. You still had absolutely no idea, but you didn't question it. "Who will be competing in all valleys? Just wanted to let you kids know what you're up against."
When you entered, you noticed a boy with a large purple mohawk staring at you like he was the lion and you were the gazelle. Gross. When you went to leave, the same boy came up and grabbed your arm. "Hey, pretty lady."
"Hawk, leave her alone." A pale boy with black hair said, trying his best to intervene. "Demetri, back off." He spat. He turned back to you, "You've got like, the best ass I've ever seen," Oh hell no, "You'd be so pretty if you smiled." His words made you fucking angry. "You got a boyfriend? I mean even if you do I'm sure I'm way better than him," He said cockily, his eyes roamed your body as you could feel the anger build up inside of you. What an asshole.
You were tempted to do something about him yourself, but before you could get the thought out of your head you felt an arm around you. "Hello, my love, is there a problem here?"
You looked over and we were met with Robby's face closer than it had ever been. He gave you a wink. You tried to hide your confusion while he turned toward Hawk.
"Why is your arm around her?" Hawk questioned, he wasn't buying it. Robby snarled, "Cause she's my girlfriend?" You saw an older blonde man's head tilt at that statement.
"Ain't no way she's your girl." A taller boy with black fluffy hair chimed in. You gave him your cruelest look, then turned to Robby. "I am indeed his girl." You turned to the boy with the mohawk in front of you, "What was your name again? Pigeon?" You asked.
You heard snarls from the inside of the dojo while you walked off quickly, Robby's hand in yours. When you turned the corner you quickly let go of his hand. "I didn't need your help. I could've handled that myself. But thank you." You scoffed, getting back into Silver's car.
Robby held back his anger before getting in on the other side. You both silently waited for both of your Senseis, the tension between you and Robby so thin you could cut it with a butter knife.
He cleared his throat, "Why are you such a bitch to me?" At first, you thought you hadn't heard him correctly, but when you realized he had actually said that you made sure your shock and anger were clear in your expression. "Excuse me?"
Both of Robby's eyebrows raised, "I've been nothing but nice to you," That was a lie, "And you just treat me so horribly. It makes no sense."
You sighed, trying to control some of your anger. "I am only a bitch to you when you are to me. So maybe if you weren't always such a selfish douchebag all the time you'd get some amiability." Robby saw how angered you were by the question and somehow just found it funny. He really is a dick.
Robby was unable to bicker back when both of your Sensei's opened the car door on each side. "So unbelievable!" Terry shouted, swinging his leg and body inside.
The ride back to the dojo was silent except for Terry. Once he started ranting about something, it only stopped when the subject was changed but if he felt like it, he could be on that annoying topic for hours.
Even though the visit was brief, it was eventful, not for the tournament but you and Robby. When you were alone in that car with him, your hatred changed, and the tension that was once conflictual became suggestive. You couldn't believe how quickly your relationship with Robby could change from only your perspective, but it did. You hated it.
When you arrived back at the dojo you walked in first, desperate to get away from the idiot that was Robby, you grabbed your bag and without a second thought walked straight into the bathroom.
You assumed Sensei would continue the session after, so, you figured why not mess with Robby a little? You saw how amazed he looked when he saw your figure in that dress, so, let's make it better.
You quickly changed into a pair of gym shorts Tory had given you, she told you they'd make your butt look even better than it already did so you gave it a try.
You watched yourself in the mirror, scrunching up the long part of the shorts to make them shorter, then turning around and scrunching up the shorts around your ass to make your ass look better. Thank you, Tory Nichols.
You were just in a sports bra and figured that alone was fine, your outfit wasn't too random either sense your sports bra was black and the shorts were magenta, you left your gi outside of the changing room, so you would walk right past Robby when you went to get it.
Pulling open the curtain gained the attention of Tory, who just gave you a smirk as turned around and grabbed your bag. When you turned back around Tory had her jaw dropped and was almost more excited than you were.
You went to the back and placed your bag on the ground; you expected Robby to be training with the others, but he was there, bench pressing what appeared to be 135 pounds; you weren't surprised since you'd seen him lift higher before.
When you walked in, your gi was hanging up in the far corner, and as you went to get it, Robby naturally stopped for a drink of water, and of course, you walked right past him in those skimpy shorts. When you think about it, the situation was kind of hilarious.
When you turned to leave the room, you noticed Robby's eyes were looking somewhere else to make it appear as if he wasn't staring. You knew he was. Mission accomplished.
You walked passed him and his eyes caught yours as he took a sip of water. "Next time, don't be so obvious, Robby." He spat out some of his water, he knew you were bold but he wasn't expecting to be called out.
You walked out of the room with a proud smirk on your face. "Oh, god, what now?" Tory asked, taking a sip of water herself. You pointed to Robby, who was in the back nearly choking on his water, attempting not to make a mess.
"Damn, Y/N! You did that?" She asked, turning back to you. You nodded and hid your smile, "I caught him staring and I called him out," You spoke, your words sounding like gibberish because of how much you held back your laughter.
Tory began laughing with you. "Looks like you got him hooked. Whatcha' gonna do now?" You turned to Tory and simply smiled at her, "Absolutely nothing. It's his turn."
Later that day, Silver told you Robby had forgotten his bag and you were the one who had to drop it off to him because he was "busy". At first, you thought he was just mistaken sense you remembered him living at the dojo, but when he told you Robby had bought himself an apartment, you were beyond curious to get into his business.
Tory: bae getting that enemies to lovers trope
You: no gtfo
Tory: don't lie to me, yk if he asked you to make out and then be strangers for the rest of your life you'd say yes
You: girl
Tory: have fun ;) Practice safe sex btw
You: TORY.
You waited, knocking on his door a bunch as the indecisive male himself swung the door open in a frustrated manner. He stood shirtless, his body was toned, you stopped your eyes from traveling down to his hard abs, his shorts pulled slightly below them as if his v-line was glistening just for you.
He gave you a harsh stare, "Why are you here?" He didn't even seem to notice his karate bag hanging at your hip.
You threw it to him, "Here. Silver said you forgot it and told me to bring it to you. He was busy." You spoke quickly, going to walk away but were stopped by Robby. "Sorry if this is a bad time," You mentioned, pointing out his current tired state.
He sighed, "Thanks. It's fine, I guess. Are you going to Kyler's house tomorrow? He invited us all over to spend the night and watch movies." He asked, leaning in the doorway. Your lips formed a smirk when you caught his eyes looking you up and down.
You cleared your throat, "Kid's an ass sometimes but he sure knows how to have fun, so probably. Depends on how I'm feeling after practice tomorrow. Why you wanna know, Keene?" Robby zoned out, his eyes directly staring into yours as he suddenly remembered where he was and what you had said, "Just wondering, why you gotta make it weird, Y/N."
You shrugged, "You're the one who was staring." You gave him another crude look up and down before going to walk away. "See you tomorrow, Keene!" You shouted down the hallway as Robby finally shut his door.
chat - queen cobras
the cobra kai dojo (no senseis)
tory ❌
so small change of plan bitches
there is no longer space in my car
someone else has to give y/n a ride
kyler💩
i'm not giving her a ride
tory ❌
correct you're riding with me
way to use your brain asshat
kenny🦶
💀💀 bruh
i obviously can't drive so
tory ❌
robby?
robby🧔🏻‍♀️
no.
tory ❌
bro robby
robby🧔🏻‍♀️
nope
kyler💩
canceling the party
kyler💩
gtfo no you aren't
robby come on bro
tory ❌
it's a ride it's not that bad
kenny🦶
pause.
kyler💩
what kinda ride🤓
tory❌
you guys are weird
don't leave me with them robby
just drive y/n it's not that bad
robby🧔🏻‍♀️
ugh
i hate u
y/n🤑🤑🤧
tory what the fuck
so i can't go?
tory ❌
only if robby changes his mind
y/n
robby pls
robby🧔🏻‍♀️
no ma'am
y/n
please bro
ill do anything
kenny🦶
pause
tory
now wait a minute...
y/n
STFU
robby
anything..?😏
y/n
gtfo
** later that day **
Somehow the gang had convinced Robby into driving you to Kyler's. It thankfully worked when Kyler threaded to cancel and never reschedule, we all knew he could never actually pull that off, but he bluffed it and it finally broke Robby.
There you sat in the passenger seat, awkwardly scrolling through Instagram as Kyler's house was almost ten minutes from the dojo. Music was playing quietly in the background as Robby used his left hand to turn the steering wheel, rounding a curb before changing the radio station a bunch.
"Nothing good on here," He mumbled, before finding a channel with some random country music. "Perfect."
You gave him the weirdest side eye before changing the channel once again. "Hell no. Now I know you're lying. No one actually likes country music unless it's a joke."
Robby smirked, "Maybe I'll be the first then. Country music is definitely underrated."
You scoffed, "Not even close. Country music is overrated and should not exist in the first place. If it's going to be country at least make it Like Bryan. That's the only good country artist. Or just don't play country at all."
Robby rolled his eyes before just silencing the radio fully, to stop the bickering. "Whatever. Always gotta ruin the fun."
"If that's what you call fun, then tonight won't be much fun because your bar is very low." You stated as Robby turned down Kyler's very busy street, and pulled into his driveway without a single bump or scratch.
You went to open your door after he parked but you watched as the lock came undone and still there was no movement from the door. "Shit, why of all days does it have to jam now. You're going to have to get out this way, Y/N."
Your eyes widened as you realized what he meant. He technically could've gotten out first and then let you out but this way would be more fun. You loved teasing him.
Your seatbelt was now undone, and you got up on Robby, swinging your leg over to straddle him. It was difficult for you both to maintain your composure while Robby was wearing only a black tank top and grey sweatpants. Once you realized what you felt, you ignored it. He stared at you with wide eyes and pink cheeks as you slung your other leg around his, got out of the car, and left him sitting there like a deer in headlights with his head back and his breathing heavy.
What the hell just happened?
ROBBY'S POV;
Y/N was on top of me, the way she looked down at me was, fuck, so hot. I hated it. She had to get out my way because my fucking door jammed, but honestly, I wasn't mad about it. I never realized how beautiful she was until now but I'd never let her hear me say that because she'd never let it down.
As she swung her leg around and got off the top of me, it was so difficult for me not to get hard, even if it was just a simple movement such as standing up. She started walking away and I took that as my chance to adjust myself so my dick wasn't noticeable, of course, she sends me into Kyler's house with a fucking boner as if she did it on purpose. Little snake.
I grabbed my overnight bag and all the stuff I needed before following her into Kyler's house. I walked inside closely behind Y/N, everyone already seemed to be there and Tory looked at Y/N wide-eyed before looking back at me.
"You guys took forever," Tory mumbled. I gave her an sarcastic laugh before setting my stuff down on Kyler's kitchen island. Kyler threw himself onto his dark brown couch, "So, we can do anything you guys want. The house is ours until 8 pm tomorrow."
I laughed and opened his fridge, I didn't give a shit cause Kyler didn't either, I've been to his house quite a few times surprisingly and he always had the best food. I hadn't been invited over for dinner much, but I took advantage of it when I was. Kyler's mom makes the best dinners.
I grabbed a Fanta and watched as Y/N spun around in the chair next to the kitchen island. "Grab me one." I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a second soda and threw it at her. She gave me a fake gasp, "Now it's gonna explode. Bitch," She mumbled the last part under her breath but I chose not to comment on it knowing it wouldn't end well.
"By the way guys, I invited Aisha. She's cool and she's technically still a Cobra at heart." Tory spoke.
I watched as Y/N's face lit up, "I miss Aisha, I'd never be mad at that." I tried my hardest not to look at her, but it still felt a bit awkward after what happened in the car.
"Where's your bathroom?" Kyler lead Y/N to the bathroom and as soon as Y/N was out of sight Kenny turned to me.
"So, Robby, you and Y/N make out yet?" Did I hear that shit right? I almost spit out my soda. I quickly swallowed, "How high are you, bro?"
Kenny laughed, "Not that high, yet. But it's obvious you and Y/N like each other. Hell, when you walked in here you looked like you two had just banged." Kyler and Tory both looked taken aback by Kenny's bold statement. Kenny noticed, "What, am I wrong?"
Tory laughed, still somewhat shocked, "No! Just didn't expect to hear that shit from you. Kids gotta point though," Tory agreed, as Kyler came back into the room.
"I could hear you all from the bathroom. You talk very loud. But I agree. Robby, you gotta make your move tonight. Just no sex on the family couch please." They were crazy. Right?
"I'm not having sex with Y/N on the family couch, Jesus Christ," I laughed, "Don't be weird you guys. I'm probably not going to have sex with her at all. Something awkward did happen in the car, though."
Kyler smiled, "Good! There was room in Tory's car, that was just our little push. So, what exactly happened between you two little lovebirds?"
SECOND PERSON POV;
When you dried your hands on Kyler's light blue hand towel, you heard bits of laughter coming from the main room. You began to listen, and heard Kyler not so nonchalantly holler and then a mix of gibberish-sounding words you couldn't put out from how far away you were.
You opened the door, the loud sound ruining your plan of sneaking up to hear their conversation. Goddamnit.
As you strolled back into Kyler's beautiful home, you heard Robby with a million-dollar idea. "Y/N, Hawk was being weird to you, earlier, right? When we were with Sensei Silver?" All you could do was nod.
"Ew! That bird? What'd he do this time?" Hawk had a reputation at the Cobra Kai dojo, he was known as a traitor, pussy, bird, and many other menacing nicknames that are probably best not to be mentioned.
"He was just being weird, like flirting but in a weird and unattractive way. It really wasn't that big of a deal, though."
Robby didn't care how dramatic it may seem but he felt his heart sink a little with how unbothered you were. That's a good thing, obviously, but also it wasn't okay, so Robby felt something needed to be done about it.
"What do we say about a little payback?"
That's how the five, now six of you had your two cars parked and were at Hawk's doorstep, multiple packs of toilet paper and multiple egg cartons in hand. Aisha had joined and brought all the supplies on her way. It was perfect.
There you stood shoulder to shoulder with Aisha and Robby, egg carton in hand, as you all quickly threw a bunch of eggs in his yard and at his house. You turned to Aisha, "Aren't you and Hawk friends?"
She scoffed, "Eli and I were friends. After he turned into Hawk, he was like a whole different person. He thinks he's badass but in reality, he's just fucking ignorant. Then one day he told me he usually doesn't like big girls and that he caught feelings for me. I smacked him in the face and that was when I moved." You held in the urge to chuckle as the image of Aisha slapping the shit out of Hawk filled your mind.
"Damn, he may not be a badass but you sure are. Go to you for sticking up for yourself. However, I don't blame him for flirting with you. You're gorgeous. He was an ass, though."
Aisha nodded, about to give a response when Kyler gathered everyone's attention. "Okay, someone goes ring the doorbell and we'll all drive away." Kenny scoffed, "What if he has a ring camera?"
Kyler laughed and ran to his car, "He probably does, that's why I brought these. Which one of you daring souls would like to take on the challenge?" Kyler asked, holding up two Ghostface masks from Halloween.
Robby laughed before grabbing both and handing you one. He gave you a huge grin, before putting his mask on. Why the hell was that hot?
You put yours on and followed him up to the door as the others got into each car, ready to drive away Robby quickly rang the doorbell and you used some toilet paper to cover up the ring doorbell before sprinting as fast as you could back to Robby's car. You hopped in the back assuming the door was still jammed and tore your mask off as Robby left his on and quickly drove sped the road.
He tore his mask off, his breathing was heavy and you found yourself once again to Robby in a Ghostface mask, watching as he used one arm to steer and the other to throw the masks into the backseat.
Still, out of breath, he panted words that you could barely recognize, "That was fun," His chest was heaving as he turned back to look at you, tiny drips of sweat forming on his forehead as his eyes met with yours. "You still breathing, Y/N?"
You ignored how your heart skipped a beat when he said that, and then grabbed your phone and crawled into the front seat. "Totally. Back to Kyler's house, we go. Wonder what other ideas he has for us," You laughed, checking your phone to see a text from Tory.
Tory: we picking up some pizzas and movies while we're out. You and Robby can head back to Kyler's house and enjoy your alone time ;)
You hid your smile before typing a quick response.
You: thank you HAHA but make sure to look at my movie list I sent you earlier, all the good ones are on there
Tory: yes because I'm sure Robby would enjoy seeing you simp over Billy Loomis. Have fun babe not answering you anymore so you're forced to interact with him😘😘
You: fuck you
Tory: love you too
You: you're actually not gonna answer?
Seen 1m ago
God damnit, Tory. You clicked the side of your phone which turned it off and kept your eyes on the road in front of you. You felt Robby's beautiful hazel eyes gazing contently at you, you chose to ignore it and instead began speaking which caused him to stop staring, "Tory said they're picking up food and movies, and said we can just go back to Kyler's and wait for them."
Robby smiled and looked out the window on his side before turning back to you, "You realize they're trying to get us to hook up, right?" You started laughing, "Yeah I'm well aware. They're trying so hard, too."
After a couple of seconds of on-edge silence, Robby broke it by turning up the radio a little. "Let's drive around for a bit. They can wait if they have to," He spoke, turning the radio on before handing you the aux cord, "Sense you hate what I chose so much, put on your playlist. Let's see if there's anything good."
You smiled before purposely grabbing the cord out of his hand in an aggressive manner, and plugging it into your phone. He just shook his head and laughed, focusing on the dark roads before him. It was around 11 pm, and there were barely any cars out, which was expected considering how unpopular the roads near Kyler's house were.
You scrolled through each playlist that you had for each different mood, before choosing your main one and hitting shuffle. The song Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa began playing and you went to skip it but Robby stopped you by gently gripping your wrist. "This song's on there for a reason, let it play."
You gulped and nodded, the lyrics playing as Robby turned it up enough to the point where it almost hurt your ears, which was technically just the right amount.
After that song played along with a few others that both of you screamed all the lyrics to, he watched as you picked up your phone to check for messages and saw a Lana Deal Ray song had just started.
"You listen to Lana?" He questioned, his tone sounding very confused. You scoffed, "I'm surprised you even know who she is, yes I listen to Lana. This song is one of my favorites," You shared, as West Coast began loudly blaring. The beat that dropped on that song was sexy, the ending especially and it was perfect for you and Robby's current state of tolerable enemies and friends with tension.
He surprisingly knew all these lyrics too, and in this one, you could sing all of them without a second thought. As the chorus and small beat drop came, you felt your body get chills as it does every time, watching as Robby rested his head back onto his seat, lip-syncing some of the lyrics and shouting the others.
After that part kind of calmed, the next beat drop came just as fast as it left, the soft swing of the music making you feel like you were the queen of the world. It continued through and almost got to the part with the even sexier background music, you felt Robby's eyes intensely staring at you as if he was playing a scenario through his head. You didn't blame him, this song was heaven.
As the sensual part of the song began, you gave him a soft smile and rolled your window down so your hair was flying, he rolled down all the others including the sunroof, took your seatbelt off, and stuck your head out of the window. Robby watched and felt himself get hard once again but not by your touch, just at the sight of you.
You made sure to arch your back a little and scream the lyrics, holding onto the top of his car as if you needed leverage. Robby felt as if this moment was from a music video and you were the main actress the whole video focused on. You were mesmerizing.
He felt his cheeks were red and quickly turned his head to look away from you as you brought yourself back into the car and Robby pulled into Kyler's driveway. All the other cars already sat in the driveway. You grinned, "See you inside."
He sat there for the second time that day, his cheeks red, his dick hard and unsure of what the hell just happened and how you gave him yet another boner. You laughed to yourself and practically ran inside, opening the door and rushing over to Tory and Aisha to tell them all about what just happened.
After about twenty seconds Robby walked inside. At first sight, it once again looked like the two of you had just fucked, but this time it looked worse than before.
This time you looked over and Robby and could see his dick through his pants. You found it crazy how you could go so quickly from disliking each other to flirting constantly, but you honestly weren't complaining. You finally realize how fucking sexy Robby was, completely disregarding how you saw him as your karate rival not even an hour ago. That moment you just shared with him definitely made it difficult to go back to just that.
After your eventful car ride with Robby, the group played a bunch of dirty but funny card games and ended the night with a decade movie marathon, where you watched two movies from a decade of your choice and then chose the better movie and went down the like to explain why, it was now around 5 am, still fully dark, which meant everyone was sleeping until you woke up with a dry feeling in your throat and a sudden need for water.
So, you left the huge fort you all had made and made your way to Kyler's kitchen, trying to avoid making any loud noises so everyone could get their sleep.
You grabbed a plastic cup from Kyler's kitchen cabinet, opened the fridge, grabbed the ice-cold filtered water, and poured it since Kyler said his tap water was disgusting. You filled your cup about halfway and quickly took a sip, noticing Kyler had a window above his kitchen sink and saw a kid riding his dirt bike in the middle of the night.
You laughed to yourself but your laughter quickly went away when you felt hands poking your sides and almost spilling the water you had just beautifully poured for yourself.
You turned to see Robby, and hit his shoulder, "You bitch, I almost spilled my water," You whispered yelled, before hitting his shoulder again and angrily setting your water down.
"Yes, 'cause you spilling your water would be the end of the world," He whispered sarcastically, before grabbing a plastic cup for himself. You watched as he reached around you, the veins in his hands flexing as he has each arm on each side of you, his front lightly grazing your back as you felt butterflies in your stomach and somewhere lower.
Robby poured his water from the filter just as you did, and removed all contact from your body so he was now fully away from you. "Why are you smiling?" You asked him, noticing his sly smile, wanting to wipe it off his stupid face.
Robby felt his strong demeanor slowly fade away as he saw your siren eyes, and heard what you finally said, "Stop smiling before I give you a reason to," It was cheesy, but still made his cheeks pink. You continued, "Are you blushing?"
He shook his head and suddenly felt embarrassed, "Hell no," He lied, you knew damn well he was and it was just getting darker. "Are you sure? You seem very nervous, or that could just be my imagination."
You brushed a piece of hair out of his face, before looking him directly in the eyes. "You're so pretty, you know that?" You dragged your hand from his hair, softly dragging down his cheek, and then on his chest. You felt how quickly his heart was beating. "Your heart is beating very fast, maybe you are nervous." You knew exactly how to push Robby's buttons and it absolutely infuriated him. Robby wasn't going to lie, part of the way you were speaking definitely turned him on. His cheeks were bright red.
That was his final straw, he pushed you to the inside corner near the fridge, holding your hips in place so you were pinned in front of him. "Quit acting like a bitch before I treat you like one." He kept his hand hard on your hip and brought the other hand to cup your face. You swallowed hard but wanted to remain in your teasing, ways, so you continued.
"You can be infuriating, Y/N. Maybe if you weren't such a selfish brat I would've liked you sooner." He huffed, his words fanning in your face, his lips millimeters from yours.
"So you like me? Took some guts to finally admit that. Took you quite a while didn't it?" Your eyes shot deeply into his beautiful green eyes that now seemed hazel due to the darkness. You saw how hot Robby was when he was mad. You made a mental note to push his buttons more often. He let go of your hips which would definitely leave some type of fingerprint mark, he downed his water and threw the cup into the dishwasher, walking back over to you before grabbing you by the shirt, "Lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you."
He walked back to the place he was sleeping, now leaving you standing there in your tracks like a deer in headlights. Your breathing was heavy and you were now definitely nervous about what came next. You couldn't wait to tell Tory and Aisha about this.
When you woke up once again, it was almost 2 pm. You sat at Kyler's kitchen island eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, in the seat between both Tory and Aisha while the boys were eating in the gaming room near the back of the house.
You continued to take another bite and quickly finished it, "Something happened last night between me and Robby." After those words were said, both girls immediately gained a huge interest.
"What?!"
"You better start talking, babe."
You cleared your throat, "Well, basically I went to go get a drink of water around 4 am, and Robby apparently did too. And then I started teasing him because why not and then he kind of snapped." Tory's mouth fell open, "What kind of snap?" Aisha grinned, "Yeah was it like a sexy snap or a snap like where he forever hated you?"
You laughed before answering, "It was honestly both. But then after I teased him he basically pinned me against the fridge and told me to quit acting like a bitch before he treated me like one," After you said that both girls were extremely shocked and Aisha almost spilled her cereal bowl, "Oh there's more," You added with a laugh. "And then, after that, he said something like if you weren't such a brat he would've liked me sooner," You watched as the girls' jaws dropped wider, "And to top it all off, he ended it with Lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you. Which is my personal favorite."
Tory spit out her cereal and milk that time and began laughing with Aisha at the incident but then remembered why she did that. "Jesus Christ! I didn't know he had it in him." Aisha commented before Tory nodded, cleaning up her mess. Tory quickly moved on, "So, you gonna let him do it?"
"What let him fuck my attitude out of me? Hell yeah, just don't know when. I'll just continue teasing him and let him make the move when he wants." Aisha and Tory both nodded, quickly changing the subject as the boys walked into the same room.  Tory and Kyler have each other 'the' look as Robby walked to the sink to grab a glass and get some orange juice out of the fridge.
Robby's eyes met yours as you went to take another bite of your soggy cereal, watching as he eyed you up and down and slowly took a sip of his juice, staring into your soul before walking back into the game room with the guys following closely behind him.
You all started laughing after hearing the door loudly close.
The sleepover was definitely fun, and extremely eventful. You and Tory were the last to leave Kyler's house around 7 pm when Kyler came out of his room. "Uhh, Y/N, Robby forgot his overnight bag. Could you bring that to him?" Kyler sucked at hiding his smirk and laugh knowing exactly what he was doing.
"Is this-" Before you could even finish, Tory interrupted you. "Yes, this is our way of setting up you and Robby. Now go get your dick, babe. I'll be in the car in a sec." She said, basically pushing you out of the door.
After about a minute, she walked out and hopped into the driver's side. "Okay, the plan is, you're going to Robby's, and I'm not coming to get you for a few hours, so, just hang out at his place for a little."
You went to argue but she just shushed you, "Nope, not a word. Even if you don't want to fuck him that's fine do what you want babe but you need quality time with him, and this is the push you need. So make the best out of it. You only live once my love," She said, putting on her makeup in the mirror as she still somehow drove perfectly.
You watched as she applied her mascara, "Where are you going all prettied up?" Normally if it were one of your other friends you'd hate asking that but you knew Tory, she wouldn't put in the time and effort of doing makeup because she usually hated it, so when she did it, it was rare and for a good reason.
She smiled, "I have a date. I'll text you when I'm done so you know when I'm on my way. Or I can just drive your car over. Whatever works best." Somehow within your short conversation, she was already at Robby's apartment complex.
She blew you a kiss goodbye as you got out and grabbed Robby's duffle bag from the back, swinging it around your shoulder and walking into the building. Once you got to Robby's room you knocked on the door a few times as you did last time, so he knew it was you. He swung the door open, and didn't seem too thrilled at first but lightened up when he saw his bag." Y/N. I didn't even realize I forgot that until now." You gave him a small smile, "Yeah, Kyler realized and sent me here. Sorry if I once again have horrible timing."
He smiled and looked at the ground, "That's okay, you're not interrupting anything," Where did this nice guy come from? "You can come in if you'd like."
You accepted his offer after remembering what Tory had said and went inside, he closed the door and then walked into the kitchen which was visible from the front door.
He grabbed a glass and then another, "You want anything to drink?" No seriously where did this gentleman come from, not even 24 hours ago he had you pinned against Kyler's fridge and was threatening you with a good time. "I'm okay, thank you."
It definitely felt awkward, those moments you shared running through your head as Robby sat down on the couch not too far from you. You didn't know what to say or do, or if you should try starting a conversation. That's when you knew this was painfully awkward.
Robby cleared his throat, thank god, "You wanna watch a movie? I have a lot, you can choose." You gave him a smile for saving the awkwardness, "Sure. Let's see what you got."
After a surprising few minutes of scrolling, you decided on the category of marvel and let Robby choose which movie. Whatever movie he chose would say a lot about him, so when he chose Thor Ragnorok you were definitely thrilled.
As the movie began to play, Robby turned to you, "Are you cold? Would you like a blanket?" His offer seemed like he was being sweeter than normal, and it made you curious, but you weren't complaining. That kid was being nice.
"Eh, not really but I probably will get cold." You admitted with a tiny laugh as Robby grabbed the fluffiest blanket you had ever seen off of his other couch. He sprawled it across you, only leaving a little to himself as the movie began and you couldn't wait for cause that was definitely one of your favorites.
A little after half into the movie, you felt Robby's eyes on you. He was staring, the same way he did during your little detour from Hawk's house. This time, instead of ignoring it, you looked over at him.
"You know, Robby. I notice you staring at me. I just don't say anything." You mentioned, and he felt his cheeks go bright pink as they had many times the day before. Robby seemed embarrassed as if his whole nice demeanor disappeared cause of what you had just said. You didn't even say anything wrong, Robby just hated being called out.
"Sorry," He grumbled, turning back to the movie. 'Don't be a bitch.' That was what you wanted to say, but you kept it in for now knowing it would probably not end very well for you.
After another 5 minutes, you began overthinking the whole situation and making yourself angry, thinking about all the times when he had teased you and you said nothing about it, or when he would be mad at you for no reason.
You turned to him after a good few minutes of thought, "Robby, what the hell is your problem with me? Like why does everything I do make you mad? I'm not even intentionally doing anything at this point I'm just being myself and for some reason, that seems to make you-"
"I don't have you Y/N, you just make me so mad. You act like a bitch and then fucking tease me or whatever the fuck that was yesterday!" Robby shouted, standing up. There goes nice Robby. You knew something was up.
"I do not act like a bitch! It's all fun and games but clearly, you can't handle that."
"No, apparently I can't! I'm sorry for not liking when my fucking friend or enemy or whatever the fuck we are confuses the shit out of me to the point where I'm literally questioning myself! You act like the whole work revolves around you! Maybe if you didn't act like such a slut all the time I'd be able to" And there it was. A loud smacking sound on Robby's face finally made him shut the fuck up.
"Never speak to me like that again." Robby felt more angered, but also a little turned on with how hot you looked right then.
"What if I-" Smack. Again, and this time he felt less angered and more turned on over anything. "Y/N..." The way your name rolled off his lips so smoothly, made you get butterflies. Smack. You smacked him once again just for fun, not as hard but after that, he began to lean in toward you. So you stopped him, grabbing his neck and bringing him closer to you.
"Okay, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," He spoke just above a whisper, voice cracking due to your hold on his neck.
You sat a couple of seconds and considered excepting his apology, and when you let go he almost instantly grabbed you and pinned you on the couch, wrapping his hand around your neck. "Had to switch it up. I like it better this way."
You tilted your head back slightly and your mouth slowly fell open, the need to breathe leaving your mind because of how turned on you were. You could sacrifice a couple of breaths if that meant being choked by Robby Keene.
His taunting words somehow made you wet, and you knew you were in for a long night of fun and trouble. Robby kissed your lips with his hand still around your throat, then began placing wet kisses along every part of your skin he could.
His breath was heavy on his hand and the part of your neck that was uncovered, "Can I?" He asked carefully, tugging at your top. When you nodded he wasted no time and brought it above your head practically ripping it in the process.
He continued kissing down your chest, slowly loosening his grip on your neck and then letting go completely. The sight of you in just your bra made him even harder as he continued down, noticing a drawing near your rib. "Is this.. a tattoo?" His words were slow as if he was contemplating whether or not he should ask his question. You laughed before running your fingers through his hair, "Yes, love. I got it not too long ago, so be gentle, there." Those words turned him on more than they probably should've, but he was too flustered to complain.
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust and want. He continued once again to kiss down your stomach, you could tell the tattoo made him even more of a horny animal, and you were excited for him to see the others you had sprawled around your body. "Can I take this off?" His consent was very attractive, even though it was indeed the bare minimum the way his voice was perfectly raspy made it ten times sexier.
"Knock yourself out, baby."
The sudden use of pet names made his pants tighten. He sharply inhaled before skillfully undoing your bra with one of his hands and letting it drop along with his jaw when he saw the second tiny ink drawing just below your breast.
"Got a bunch as soon as I turned eighteen. I have more if you wanna see them," The breathy sound of Robby led you to believe this man had a tattoo kink, so you did the expected, "Robby, do my tattoos turn you on?"
It made your heart flutter realizing how quickly Robby can switch from dominant to submissive, you didn't know what would happen next and you loved it. It was exhilarating. Robby held in his need and looked up. "Yes, they do. A lot." You laughed. "I could tell. Don't be embarrassed. 'S cute."
He quickly forgot what had just happened and continued his painfully slow teasing. He kissed down until he got to your pants, then asked once more if he could remove your clothes, to which you replied yes, and when you did he tore it off as if he was a hungry animal. It was fucking hot how eager he was.
After removing your bottoms, he grabbed both of your thighs, squeezing them and then slapping them until he was satisfied. He took off your underwear after asking for consent and hearing and seeing your answer and aggressive nod. He slapped your thighs once more before tightly gripping them and throwing them over each of his shoulders.
He left no time for hesitation, he licked a long stripe up your clit, your moans motivated him as he messily continued, he couldn't even compare to how good you tasted.
Your moans loudly filled up all the sound space in the room, feeling the sudden need to squirm as Robby stuck a finger inside of you and he continuously flicked your clit with his tongue. Swear words and gibberish nonsense fell from your lips as Robby pumped his finger in and out of you, your toes curling and your head practically throwing itself back.
Robby looked up at you with a lustful look, "Right there?" He asked, holding his finger at a spot he somehow knew would make you go feral. "Oh my god, yes!" You shouted, his name falling from your swollen lips over and over.
"Does It feel good, baby? Let me hear you." You bucked up your hips but were stopped when Robby held them against the couch. "Use your words." His mean tone turned you on, even more, the struggle to move made you hornier by the second.
"It feels so good, Robby, don't stop. Please." He smirked to himself before continuing. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head. "Look at me, Y/N. No one coming but you."
His snarky comment makes your legs shiver, every ounce of your body feeling numb as you looked him directly in the eye, squeezing a handful for some sort of a release sense you'd be reaching yours soon. "You gonna come, my love?" Robby's soft words made you shiver, "Yes, Robby, oh my god."
You couldn't believe Robby Keene was right in front of you, watching you orgasm for the first time, it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. The white liquid kept spilling out of you, it finally stopped but your legs continued to shiver as Robby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. At the sound of it, it may have sounded weird, but in person, it was fucking hot.
His smile was cheeky but bright and it made your stomach gain butterflies, he came up to you, and grabbed you by the neck, bringing your upper half slightly upwards. "I told you to look at me, babe." His words were stern, and they made you hungry for more. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll listen next time."
He let you off with a small warning before letting go of you, then standing up completely and then walking into his room. After a couple of seconds, he shouted for you, "Y/N, come here!"
You basically ran into his room regarding how excited you were, and when you saw him standing in front of his mirror, hand on the desk as he leaned his body weight on it, just staring at himself in the mirror. The mirror was right next to from the wall his bed was up against, next to the door. The mirror was huge, definitely more than a make-up stand type desk as if it was used for something else.
You stopped at the door, but he signaled you over with his two fingers before mumbling a 'come here.
You walked over to where he was, and he quickly moved your now messy hair away from your neck and slowly began kissing it before whispering something that at first sounded like gibberish, "Look at yourself."
He looked up and look at your gorgeous face through the mirror, "You're going to watch your face, as I fuck you senseless in this mirror. Mkay?" His soft tone sent shivers down your spine and made your knees weaken.
"Undress. Tap my arm a few times if it becomes too much. You're okay with this right?" His demeanor shift made you fall for him even more, even though it technically was once again the bare minimum you still were about to melt.
You nodded, "Use your words, beautiful." You began to strip and then corrected yourself, "Yes. I'm okay with this, please just, touch me, Robby." When you finally undressed, "As you wish, my love." Robby was already shirtless so he took his pants off and went to take his boxers off but you stopped him before he could.
You undressed him yourself, pulling down his boxers in a teasingly slow manner, looking him in the eye in the most sensual way possible, you knew it would make him nervous. He looked back at you; you noticed how he struggled to stare back until he looked away. "You nervous, baby?"
He turned you around and lightly wrapped his hand around your throat, slowly increasing the pressure to the point where he almost cut off your airway but not completely.
"I am not nervous," His two fingers went straight to your clit and began to rub fast circles, "Stop treating me like I'm your bitch. Now watch yourself in this goddamn mirror while I fuck you until your legs are shaking." You wanted to give him a sassy remark but the hold on your neck stopped you from verbally communicating.
Robby's lips latched onto your neck as he slowly moves his fingers, then places a line of kisses along your shoulder as he continued his assault on your clit, "That feels good, baby?"
"So good, fuck," You moaned under your breath, your legs beginning to shake and squirm as you felt Robby's hands remove the contact from your clit. You were frustrated at first but held in a gasp when you felt his tip at your entrance.
"You ready, baby? Remember you can back out at any time." His offer sounded nice but getting fucked by him sounded even nicer, so you nodded and followed that up with the verbal confirmation he loved so much, "Yes, Robby. I'm ready."
He nodded and slowly pushed into you, a breathy moan fell from in between his lips as a whimper left your mouth. You felt as if your body was being stretched out, the feeling was ethical. You felt as if you were in euphoria and you hadn't even reached your high yet.
Robby moaned, "Can- I move?" His whisper sent shivers down your spine. You moaned out a loud yes, as Robby pushed himself in, then pulled out and aggressively thrust back in again.
You carefully watched his face in the mirror, his face of pleasure blessing your eyes as the sounds he made blessed your ears. He used his other hand to grab ahold of your breasts, squeezing and massaging them roughly making the pleasure absolutely insane.
A breathless scream tumbled from your lips, the sounds you made rarely being heard as his grip tightened on your neck. Robby caught his lower lip in between his teeth as he watched you in the mirror. Your beautiful fucked out expression, the soft sounds that left your lips, and how your walls felt around his thick cock would've been enough for him to come in his pants.
He watched in the mirror as his dick slipped in and out of you, the sight alone could've made him finish. Your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to watch yourself as Robby has so demandingly ordered, you knew if he caught you with them closed you'd get a consequence.
However it was very difficult not to squirm or clap your eyes shut, the pleasure you were feeling was unmatchable and it made you tingle. Robby repeatedly hit your g-spot, the feeling becoming almost too much to the point where your eyes fell closed.
He removed his hand from your throat before grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back. "Keep your eyes open. Guess you don't know how to fucking listen." His stern tone made you ache, you suddenly clenched around Robby and he let out a throaty laugh, "You like when I speak to you like that, huh? Fucking whore."
His words affected you in ways you never thought he could, but he just kept going, making you weaker and weaker as your legs slowly began to feel like jello, "Fucking look at you, baddest girl in the valley. Do you think Sensei'd like to know that his toughest female fighter is getting fucked and degraded right now? By his strongest fighter? That'd be a real conversation, wouldn't it." His cocky words made you so close to your high and yet you didn't release.
A scream tore from your chest as you slowly felt your release getting closer and closer, your legs now completely shaking as Robby moved his hand from your throat to your clit fibbing quick circles after noticing how close and desperate you were.
"You're gonna come, baby, I can feel it. You feel so good, fuck, it's so hard for me to function." His slight praise carried you on longer, you needed something more just to push you over the edge.
As if it were on cue Robby yanked your head back once again, the inflicted pain forcing you to scream and moan at once which was followed by a few swear words. You repeated his name many times as you felt your body get pushed over the edge. The euphoric feeling gave you goosebumps, the warmth of your bodies mixed together almost threw Robby over the edge, but just as you did, he needed a push.
You kept yourself moving even though Robby's thrusts were overly aggressive and just how you liked it, he looked down and watched your ass bounce with each thrust and then watched your pretty orgasm face in the mirror, which finally brought him over the edge too.
His mouth practically spilled with moans, grunt and whimpers for when the pleasure became too much to handle. "Holy fuck," His choice of words was funny looking back on it but in the best of the moment you didn't laugh nor even pay attention to his words, you watched his face. You could've easily came once more just at the sight of his orgasm face.
You felt his cum shoot inside you, his dick twitched as he practically screamed and continued to move in and out of your tight cunt. "Fuck- fuck- you're so- so tight," He panted, his high staying longer than usual which made him shake and squirm. "Not so tough now, are you pretty boy?" Your words made him cum even more inside of you, your words clearly affected him so you took that as an advantage.
"Wonder what Sensei would think when he found out his right-hand student liked to be called a pretty boy in bed. That'd one interesting conversation, huh Robby?" He pulled his dick out of you with a slight chuckle, "Ha ha, so funny, using my own words against me."
He watched you limp over to his bed as he went into his bathroom and grabbed a damp washcloth and walked over to you himself, carefully wiping away any of the leftover white stuff and watching as your swollen pussy continued to throb. "Damn, didn't know you had the hots for me, L/N. We should do that again sometime. Maybe as more than just enemies, I guess."
You felt yourself laughing as you sprawled out onto his very comfortable bed, "You really think enemies fuck and then just go back to normal? Imagine how easy that'd be for people who don't catch feelings. I'm clearly not one of those people, so yes, Robby, I'd love to do it again and yes, Robby, I'd love to be more than just enemies. I hate admitting it but you are nice sometimes, and that's a great thing to be."
Robby nodded with a soft smile, "You're not too bad yourself, Y/N. I'm just happy we're getting along now. I had no idea how I was planning on getting that to work but I guess it just worked out itself."
You laughed before answering in a calm tone, Robby came to lay with you on his bed after shutting off the television in the living room. "Me too, Robby, me too."
The next morning Tory had invited the whole gang from Kyler's party to Robby's new apartment to see what really went on the night before and to see if the tension and hatred were still there or if it had been fucked out.
Tory was completely correct though, she walked into a clean house but a messy couch, popcorn spilled a little, and a few pop cans sitting on the coffee table. "They definitely fucked." Kyler stated, walking further into Robby's home.
Tory laughed at his statement before quietly and carefully walking into Robby's room after gently opening the door, making sure you both were covered before allowing the others to see for themselves.
You and Robby were snuggled up in his bed, you'd head laying on his exposed chest and your arm sprawled around it, your top leg up and resting onto his legs. Robby was honestly a beautiful sleeper. Tory didn't notice, but Kenny did.
"How does he look so good when sleeping? I go to sleep and look like the Grim Reaper. God clearly has favorites." Kenny's statement made the rest of the group quietly chuckle which caused Robby to wake as you still sat sound asleep in his arms. His eyes widened when he noticed his friend group, "What the hell are you doing here?" He mouthed, not wanting to wake you from your precious sleep.
"We came to check up on you. Clearly, you guys had a fun night so we'll let you be." Kyler whisper and yelled, practically leaving Robby's house in a hurry, he was probably leaving for something important or just wanted to go home. Either option made complete sense.
Tory smiled at you even though you couldn't see her. She felt like a proud matchmaking mom, and nothing could change her feelings for you two. You didn't realize it at the time, but you'd be hearing a lot about what happened that night, especially from your teammates.
Robby made you both angry and happy. But the happy feelings were mutual. That was the best option in the end.
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indiaalphawhiskey · 8 months
Note
Fake summary please for this made up title:
Flip me off and I’ll flip you over
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🎸 Flip Me Off and I’ll Flip You Over
It had been an honest mistake, hand to God.
Louis had seen him last night, two rows away from the front, eyes closed and mouthing along perfectly to All This Time, his sweaty tendrils framing his forehead and the sleeves of his Faith in the Future tee artfully cut off.
They had made flirty - some would even say, obscenely heated - eye contact under the bright lights.
That’s how Louis knew about the dimples; that’s why Louis ran to the barricade three songs too early and a little too far to the left. He didn’t actually see if one of the hands that had so desperately clutched at him belonged to Dimples, but he’d thought it safe to think so. (No one stood that close to the stage, totally dolled up in their little outfit just to make eyes at the artist all night and not try to touch him. Please.)
But the thing was, Louis was also just a wee bit hungover this morning; cranky, headache-y, and severely under-caffeinated after a late night at the club and an inhumane five a.m. radio interview call time. Not to mention being unceremoniously manhandled into the car by Joni after some fans got a tad too excitable at the entrance.
So when he saw Dimples for the second concert in a row, now strategically stationed outside his dressing room wearing leather trousers in 36 degree weather, smiling at Louis like that…
Well, he’d just kind of… assumed.
“Bit too early to be this thirsty for a back room shag, darling, innit?” Louis snarked over the pounding in his head. Though he squeezed his eyes shut behind his dark sunglasses, he didn’t miss the startled look on Dimples’ face.
“W-wh—” he stammered, seemingly bewildered. “I—I beg your pardon?”
Louis would roll his eyes at the impeccable feigned innocence if he wasn’t so dizzy. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he peeked one eye open at the same time he lifted his coffee up to his mouth. Caffeine would save him.
He smirked a little at the deep blush on Dimples’ cheeks; at how caught out he clearly was. The movement only made Louis’ head hurt more.
“Posh little thing, aren’t ya?” He observed off-handedly, wincing at the reverberating sounds inside his head over the brim of his cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he clocked the pen in Dimples’ hand and he tipped his head as far as he could without giving himself vertigo to point at it. “Want me to sign your chest or something? Will that get you to leave me alone?”
Dimples narrowed his eyes at Louis in what seemed like the perfect cross between confusion and annoyance. “Ex-cuse me—”
“Come on then,” Louis interrupted impatiently. With a heavy sigh, he gestured with his palm to hand over the pen. “Just lift up your shirt and let’s get this over with—”
“Oh good, you’ve met!” Oli’s voice was so loud it made Louis flinch. Well, it was either his volume or the two forceful slaps he clapped on Louis’ back as he beamed as Dimples. “Louis Tomlinson,” he said, with a dramatic drumroll-type tone to his voice, “meet the legendary Harry Styles, youngest senior concert critic in Rolling Stone magazine history!”
To say those were the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment would have been incorrect. Mostly because the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment were the next six: “He’s here to review your tour!”
Louis lifted his horrified gaze to Harry’s face slowly. Their eyes locked, anger flashing across Harry’s features as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ironically, the lanyard of his press pass was now painfully obvious where it hung around his neck.
“Charmed,” he deadpanned.
Whoops.
— or, Louis Tomlinson’s World Tour was off to a great start until he royally fucked up by mistaking a world famous concert critic for a groupie. Then again, it’s not like anyone said Harry Styles couldn’t be both.
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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months
Text
teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2.5
summary: you bump into Miles at the bodega. whoops.
wc: 900+
warnings: implied food insecurity, wasted sandwich </3
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…Or so you thought.
Standing right in front of you in the crowded bodega ordering a beef patty was none other than Mr. Morales himself, drowning in a huge black puffer jacket. As soon as he finished, he stood off to the side, eyes glued to the floor and shifting from one foot to the other.
“What you want, miss?” The man at the counter broke you out of your reverie, looking impatient.
“Sorry, just a BLT, please,” you called out over the din of music and loud conversation. The man nodded, yelling out your order to two other men standing over a hot stove beside him. 
You moved to the side, near the snack aisle where Miles was standing. His eyes seemed to remain on the ground, so you sneak glances at the side of his face, starting from his ears. They were pierced, but currently barren. You move up to his cheek, where a stray lash has fallen. The boy's lashes were just long enough to brush it. They fluttered as his pupil darted to the side, and you realized that you were making eye contact.
"Whoah, can I get my face back?"
Miles had caught you just before your eyes could flicker away. He had that same ‘the sky is blue’ look that he gave you on the first day you were seated together. You quickly turned away without a word, opting to examine the snacks lining the rack behind you.
“No ‘hello’?”
You spun around, bag of Takis in-hand.
“What?”
“You just gon’ stare into my skull and not even say ‘hello’?”
You scoffed at the boy’s sudden interest in etiquette.
“Fine, hi.”
One of the cooks called out both of your orders, sliding them across the counter wrapped in aluminum foil as the two of you went up to the front.
“Bye.”
Miles grabbed his food first before weaving through the crowd towards the exit.
That is, until you try to squeeze out of the door before him. Your face plants into the plush material of his jacket before you stumble onto the cracked sidewalk outside, your poor sandwich open on the ground before you could even take a bite.
Groaning, you hear a few ‘Ohhh’s behind you as you squat to pick the two halves up to throw them out. This was supposed to be your dinner.
Miles watches you toss them into a nearby trash can, and makes a decision.
“Yo,” he waved you over. His face looked like it was holding onto a laugh, and you rolled your eyes.
“Now is really not the time, Morales.”
“So I guess you not tryna eat, then?”
You paused, and looked at the boy skeptically. He didn’t seem like the type to be above making you eat things off the floor. As if you had communicated with him telepathically, Miles shrugs his shoulders and nods.
“That’s fair,” he says to himself. 
Your eyebrows raise in surprise when he makes long strides over to you instead. He carefully opens up the aluminum to reveal the golden pastry inside, and you watch him carefully split it in half with his fingers before offering the piece. You look up at Miles, then the patty, then back up at Miles. His expression softened into a knowing look.
“I’m not gonna ask for no money back, if that’s what’s on your mind.”
Finally, you take it. It was either this, or Takis and sleep for dinner.
 “Thanks.”
The sky had taken on a deep blue shade, and worry crept onto your features as the street lights began to flicker on.
“I gotta walk home,” you said flatly. “See you tomorrow–”
“By yourself?”
Even as it got dark, you could make out the deep frown on Miles’ face.
“It’s not that far, relax.”
“How far?”
Your tongue pushed against the inside of your cheek before you muttered, “Three blocks…”
Miles stuck his hands in his pockets. “Look, ion like yo’ ass, but I can’t have you walking around here by yourself in the dark. Lemme walk you two blocks,” he put two fingers for emphasis, “at least.”
You tilted your head at him, but agreed. 
“Slow down,” you complained as you struggled to keep up with the long-legged boy. The both of you had been walking for barely twenty minutes, but your feet were already starting to hurt from having to jog up to him.
“Walk faster,” Miles laughed. 
Silence settled in between you as the streets got quieter, save for the bustling of traffic in the distance.
“Is it true what people say about you?” you ask, suddenly breaking it.
“Be more specific.”
“Like, are you in a gang? You don’t gotta tell me which. And how the hell you flunk outta school on purpose? Do you really do graffiti-”
“First of all, I’m not in no fuckin’ gang,” Miles had stopped walking abruptly. “You see any tats on me?”
“You’re wearing a coat.”
You hear Miles suck his teeth, and snicker.
“Well, I don’t have one. My momma would put me in the dirt if I did,”
He resumed his speed-walking, and you break into another light jog to stay next to him. “The other two are true, though.”
“Why?” you ask, a little out of breath.
“Do you know how to use complete sentences?”
“Why’d you flunk on purpose? Graffiti, I can understand. That, I can't.”
Miles was silent for a few moments, and you considered retracting the question before he finally replied.
“Visions…wasn’t really for me.”
You want to press further, piece together how a kid with a strict mother and a knack for advanced calculus could just…decide that school ‘wasn’t for him’. But the way he mumbled his answer told you he wouldn’t divulge any more, and your house was just up ahead. You’d walked all three blocks.
“This is me,” you say as you slow your pace. “Thanks again.”
“Yup, g’night,” Miles calls behind him, already strolling in the opposite direction.
-
Whew, okay! I hope y’all enjoy this one even though it’s technically not a full chapter. Now I’ll ACTUALLY give myself a week to work on the next one lmao. As always, feel free to leave any reactions, questions, or comments in replies/tags/my asks! thx for reading <3
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keigokoutarou · 1 year
Text
“Do you like my hips?” Pt. 1.5
Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB!Reader
Pt. 1.5 bc I love cliffhangers *smooches*
Find Pt. 1 here! | Pt. 2
Warnings: welcome to my tit talk (literally that’s all that’s here) Suggestive content
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Oh you were writhing. Shaking. Beaming with excitement in your seat as you looked at yourself in the review mirror. The ride to base had never felt so fucking long. This 20 minutes used to feel like bliss before you had to deal with the guys but today? You were sure the speed you traveled was considered reckless.
Pulling up to the gate, you stopped for the MP to check your I.D.
“No camos today again sergeant?” The MP asked, trying so hard not to eye your chest.
“Another maintenance day.” You shrugged. “Gotta get the buggies in good shape before our next mission.”
“Yes ma’am.” He smiled. “Have a good one, Sergeant.”
Oh, I will. You thought to yourself as you waved him off and headed toward the yard as you and soap called it.
Pulling in, you noticed a few other cars and began counting them out.
Price’s Raptor, Gaz’s AMG and Soap’s old FJ. You groaned in annoyance.
“If he doesn’t show today, I’m going to lose it.” You grumbled, pulling your keys and sliding out of your rebuilt rx-7 before shutting and locking the door behind you.
You almost stomped your way through the yard to the last set of buggies that needed attention.
“Swear I could hear you coming down the highway in that thing.” Soap laughed, rubbing his hands on a greasy towel.
“Funny, I didn’t think she was loud enough.” You smirked, following Soap back to the one he was working on.
“We’re about done, just need to do two more oil changes.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead to clear the beads of sweat.
“I can start on one then.” You nodded your head.
“I laid everything out already but um, don’t want to like cover up first?” He raised an eyebrow, lifting his hands up to his chest. “Lieutenant seemed pissed on Tuesday about it.”
“Oh did he?” You quirked an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Heard him bitching to himself about you ‘flaunting’ all over base after you left.” Soap shrugged.
“Seems like he just needs to get over himself.” You giggled.
“Or he needs to get laid.” Soap chuckled along side you.
“Is he even coming today?” You threw in, silently thanking Soap for leaving the opening.
“He’ll be in shortly. Said he was meeting with Alejandro, the guy we have our new mission with.”
“Ah.” You nodded. “I’ll get started then. Wouldn’t want lieutenant pouty to have my ass.”
“I dunno, he might want to.” Soap winked, turning his back to you and returning to his work.
“Oh you have no idea.” You mumbled to yourself before heading toward the truck.
Time had flown by since you laid on the creeper and rolled yourself up under the buggy with tools in hand.
“Ah, fuck.” You groaned as the bolt to the oil pan fell straight into the drip pan with oil spouting out over top of it. Rolling your eyes, you huffed and dropped your wrench and socket beside you before leaning over to look for the bolt.
“Little shit.” You hissed at the little metal knob for falling instead of staying in the socket. You leaned the opposite way, dropping into a random pan you had found to hold anything important and prevent them from rolling away.
Laying back on the creeper again with a huff, you looked at the engine oil staining your hand and like a light bulb switched, you were filled with a genius idea.
“Whoops.” You giggled to yourself as you wiped the oil on the front of your shirt and purposely made sure a smear or two landed on the tops of your breasts. “Wonder how that got there.”
Evil it was and evil you were. Maybe you had started this deadly war, you thought to yourself as you waited for the oil to drain, but Simon made his move and it would be wrong not to engage in such a fun game of chess.
You were impatient as time passed, closing up the oil pan as it finished draining. On the last turn to tighten it with all your might, you heard your favorite sound.
“She should be around here somewhere.” You heard a deep voice break the every day noise of the base.
It was your beckoned fucking call. You smiled, checking your cleavage to make sure it was ample in its beauty before looking to the sides of you to spot Simon’s signature walk.
To your left, you noticed him approaching from the direction Soap was in. Beside him you noticed another set of legs and you realized that it must have been Alejandro. Your smile turned from excited to devious in seconds. This was going to be fun.
You waited until the got closer, assuming Simon had seen you since he called out your name.
You pushed yourself off the suspension and slid out from under the buggy on the creeper. You held your hand out to shield your eyes from the sun and to catch a clean look at your Lieutenants face.
He held his hand out to you, offering help to get you up so you could properly greet. You smiled, meeting his eyes with a knowing smirk as he not so shamelessly eyed your chest. This time, he wasn’t subtle. His hand gripped yours tighter than ever and in that instant, you wondered what it would feel like grabbing at the inside of your thighs.
“Sergeant.” Simon sounded so annoyed. You were glad.
“Lieutenant Riley.” You were absolutely beaming.
“I’d like you to meet Colonel Alejandro Rojas.” He gritted his teeth, trying so hard to maintain an even tone.
You narrowed your eyes slightly in a playful way before turning your attention to the man beside him.
“Sergeant F/N L/N.” You smiled, extending your hand for a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure is all mine.” He might have smiled a little to hard but you knew Simon caught it and that’s all you cared about.
“I’m excited to get a chance to work with you. Captain Price says you’re great with a Lachmann.” You ignored the tall angry man beside you, fully engaging with Alejandro.
“He speaks too highly of me.” Alejandro chuckled.
“I doubt that.” You waved off his comment. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”
Alejandro nodded, fully unaware of the part he played as pawn. Sure it was a cheap move but it was too easy. Too easy to dig the hypothetical knife just a little deeper into Simon’s side.
“Price wanted to go over some finer details with you before tonight’s big debrief.” Simon interrupted. “He’s in the large building over there, I’ll catch up with you.”
Alejandro nodded, bidding you one more small smile before walking off and leaving you with Ghost.
You crossed your arms, being sure to push your chest out just a little more as you turned to fully face him in a challenge as you looked up at your lieutenant.
“Playing dirty now, aren’t we?” His tone was shifting, dare you say to a more angry one.
“Was I?” You played innocent, almost batting your lashes at the man.
His eyes seemed to flash with excitement at the realization that you wanted to play. Not just submit to him because that would be too easy. You wanted to draw out this game with him as long as possible.
“You little minx.” He shook his head, crossing his arms to match your stance.
“Lieutenant Riley, I’m not sure that’s how you should speak to your peers.” You tilted your head to the side. “It wouldn’t be great for team morale.”
He looked at you, eyes darting between each of yours and then squaring with your chest.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing at, Sergeant.” His voice was even now, smooth and coated in lust.
“Is it now?” You stepped closer to him, looking up through your eyelashes. “If I recall, you’re the one who started this little game of ours.” Your smirk was wicked and he loved it. “I thought about just giving into you because I’m sure you’d just love that… but giving up this soon would be a waste.”
“You look tough now.” His hands fell to his side, making a step to match yours and close the gap. His index finger found its way under your chin, tilting your face up toward him and making your lips part slightly. “I bet I can wipe that cocky smirk right off.”
“Is that so?” You were trying. So. Fucking. Hard. You almost felt like you were shaking with excitement.
“Give me one chance.” When had his face gotten so close? You could almost feel the puffs of air coming through his mask.
He was being blatant now and that earned him a sweet little gasp from your lips.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” His words were now close to your ear, breaking every rule in the book by playing this game with you out in the open. “My quarters tonight. 9 P.M.”
He stepped back, allowing you to breathe. You took an extra step at the snap back into reality.
“I didn’t take you as a beggar, Simon.” You smiled. “We’ll see about tonight.” You waved, turning on your heels in an unknown direction to put distance between you and Simon.
“Fucking hell.” He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he watched you walk away and out of sight.
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earlgreydream · 7 months
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Could you maybe do a hybrid!reader x marauders ? Kinda like your one for kinktober. Oh also you don’t have to include this but maybe some reader being bratty and then getting spanked? Thank youu
🩶 kinktober, day 1 — pet play/hybrid!reader
for kinktober and only kinktober (my excuse to write some grossly off brand smut) also whoops this is short and last minute because HOW is it already october
“get in here,” James scolded halfheartedly, rubbing your head as you knelt between his feet.
of course you tried to behave, but your better nature got the best of you. the boys were having a meeting, and while Remus’ and Sirius’ voices usually soothed you, you grew restless at James’ feet. his hand gently stroked your cheek, petting your ears all in an attempt to keep you docile. when his fingertips brushed over your lips, you bit him sharply, bored of their droning on and on.
“ouch, jesus!” James snapped at you, swatting your cheek, abruptly catching you by surprise.
you sank back against his legs as three sets of eyes turned to stare at you, hard glares wordlessly announcing how much trouble you were in.
“what have we told you about fuckin’ biting, you brat?” Sirius grabbed your collar, roughly dragging you forward until you were on your hands and knees at his feet.
when you didn’t answer, he pulled hard on your tail, a warning that he was impatient with your brattiness.
“you’ve told me not to,” you mewled pathetically, eyes wet as you gazed to James for help, the man having no sympathy.
“and then you bit James, like the nasty little thing you are,” he hissed, tears welling at your lashes.
“m’not nasty! daddy,” you whined, more upset about falling from his good graces than the obvious punishment that awaited as a result for your misbehavior.
Remus sighed, letting Sirius batter your feelings a bit, letting him rile you up before Remus dealt any real correction. he was the hardest of the three, the strictest, always demanding perfect behavior from his little pet. when you were good he spoiled you, and you adored him like no one else, but when you stepped out of line, he became your worst fear.
“c’mere, I think siri’s had enough of you,” Remus sat down, accepting you onto his lap.
his palm was heavy against your throat as he squeezed you firmly, using the hold to manhandle you over his knee. there was no other preparation needed, the boys kept you naked in their home.
you loathed being bent over Remus’ strong thigh, your legs parted just enough that your pussy peaked out, allowing them to see how wet you’d get when they administered even the slightest hint of pain. he controlled your breathing with a hand on your throat, the other, taking a leather strap that James offered.
“are you sorry?” James asked, tilting your chin up, seeing premature tears soaking your pretty face.
“yes.”
it wasn’t a second later that Remus’ leather paddle cracked hard against your ass, the sound making you jump before the pain registered. a tongue of fire burned on your delicate skin as it licked your backside, pain searing through every nerve ending.
you jumped forward, steadied by the dominating grip on your throat. it muffled the pathetic sounds falling from your lips, and kept you looking at James and Sirius.
“m’sorry,” the whimper fell on deaf ears, the warmth smeared between your thighs suggesting otherwise.
your writhing and whines did nothing to appease your captor, and as much as you tried to help it, you couldn’t fight off the orgasm threatening to snap the tightening knot in your lower belly.
“please.”
Remus, James, and Sirius knew exactly what you pleaded for. It was no longer for him to cease his scathing of your perfect skin, but for more, enough to push you over the edge until you fell to pieces.
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issa-pheonyx · 4 months
Text
Sub!Fuckboy!Leon X Fem!Nerd!Reader [P.1?]
𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝘂𝗽. 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 (𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻). 𝗔𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆?? 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘃𝗶𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀. 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗻~
▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌
Of course, there is the fuckboy teasing the nerd and he gets so much praise, worship, and authority for it. The audacity really. It is unbelievable, but you ignore him and focused on your studies. Blasting music in your headphones when you hear him shout your name to deafen that stupid dog. If that doesn't work he would come up to you. Standing in front of you with his arms crossed, moving either side to get in your way-you know that typical shit. It has gotten out of hand though when you went to a friend of a friend's party. You asked them more than once for reassurance that Leon would not be there and they confirmed, impatiently, that he was NOT going to be there...
Boy, did they lie to you~
It was all well watching some chaotic shit going down. Guys throwing themselves into bedroom doors as they flop to the ground. People's flashing their cameras out recording the events. Some doing stunts to jump in the pool in the backyard. It was fun, obviously, with your friends there. That is until you hear one of the dudes yell,"AYEEEE, LEON!!!" Your heart dropped hearing the name as you slowly looked at the entrance revealing none other than Leon himself. He had a girl being wrapped around by the waist from his arm and the another on the opposite end touching his thick bicep. "I'm leaving." You threw your cup into the trash can. Your friend argued to stay and that both would just avoid him
You didn't want to bother as you try to find an escape, but unfortunately it was pretty blocked up by so many people piled around. You couldn't break out, so you were stuck being there, miserable. Your friend suggested to go upstairs since it was a bit more chill. That was an understatement when it would just be people sucking and eating each others faces. But, there was one bedroom not occupied, so you both stayed there. That is until your friend didn't feel their phone in their pocket, so they left to find it. You waited and waited, but lost patience and decided to go downstairs yourself
That was not a good idea. As you made it down you would be in the living room, but noticed how everyone had their phones out. "What the hell?" Before you can react you were surprised with ice cold buckets of water on you. You gasp loudly due to the freezing cold water. You were dumbfounded and next thing you know you got hit hard by a pillow that the feather came out, sticking on your soaked clothes. Everyone was laughing, cackling, and getting gassed up by the unfortunate event. You try to run only to eat shit hitting the ground. Hard. Hard that your glasses broke and cut your temple from the impact
The pain seem to concern you more than the people's sick prank. "Watch your step." A familiar voice said as you look up. It was Leon looking down at you, smugly. "You bastard..." You growled and picked yourself up even when your head was throbbing causing you to feel dizzy. Your knee and hip aching hitting down the slippery floor. You just glared at him as he laughs at you. "I ain't scared of you, babe. Not one bit." Your chest heaves, but felt something streaming down your temple as you touched it. Blood. The glasses must've stabbed pretty deep. Everyone gasps as your hand tremble
Leon looks at your hand and says,"Whoops. My bad." Before he can let out another sick chuckle you grabbed a broken piece of your glasses from the floor and strike at him. Leon was able to pull back and slip from the water. You were so close to stabbing his eye out only for it to cut his cheek. "Next time I fucking see you I will kill you. On sight. No matter the time of day, Leon." You walked away from the party and start to run. Running fast, so they wouldn't call the cops on you. Worst part is...your friend was in on it too watching with the crowd, phone out, light flashing, recording everything. Some streaming it. At least it was the weekend and soon you will be seeing him again in the weekday. You are definitely going to prepare yourself for that~
▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌
𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸�� 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣
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twst-drabbles · 6 months
Text
Heartslabyul 6
Summary: While you didn’t go out trick-or-treating like Crowley wanted to, you did get a bucket full of candy. A little too much candy. You decided to throw some of the excess to the plant nymphs.
(Hehehehe, I made a neocities website right here. I’ll be loading all my writings up there eventually for safe keeping. But yeah, check it out!)
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“Alright, ready for the next round?” You asked from your lawn chair, fingers drumming against the big and overly fancy black pumpkin bucket you got from Crowley for Halloween, “I think the next layer is white chocolate.”
Ace jumped up high, shaking his arms and legs, almost screaming in impatience that you won’t just start already. Deuce was stomping around in excitement, ready and revving to catch some candies and added them to their combined pile.
“Don’t scream, you’ll blast my ears out,” you deliberately slowed yourself down as you rubbed at your ear, dropping your scoop of candy right back into the basket just to annoy Ace further, “though, I am getting sleepy. Maybe we should do this another day.”
Then, you heard something else fall into the candy treasure trove you have. Looking over, you saw a pair of leafy legs wiggling about. Righting himself up, Trey presented the wrapped sweets high above his head before throwing it towards Ace and Deuce. Trey turned towards you with the sweetest look on his face, giving a little determined chirp before patting a little fist against his chest.
Leave it to me, he’s probably trying to convey. Adorable. He thinks you’re actually falling asleep in your chair and is trying to take up your duty for you.
“That’s alright Trey, I was just kidding,” you gently grabbed him before setting him down, “Go on. Grab some candy of your own before Ace and Deuce make themselves sick with it.”
As Trey walked to the candy zone with a nod, you shot your arms out and captured the basket that was in the process of being carried away by Cater and his clones.
“Stop that Cater,” you flicked one of the clones legs. It tripped and puffed into smoke, “I know you hate sweets but you can’t destroy them yet. Wait until the game’s over.”
The true Cater planted his butt on the table, kicking his legs out in annoyance. You patted his head.
“I’ll get you something nice later, alright? So stop with the tantrum just because I only have candy right now.”
Cater turned his head away from you, as though that wasn’t enough.
You tucked a finger under his chin, guiding him to look at you. “How does that new spicy ramen I found sound?”
Only then did Cater perk up and clap his hands with a trill of chirps escaping him. He hopped right up, dusted the dirt off his knees and ran off towards Ace and Deuce, probably to mess with them.
“You want to join in, Riddle?” You looked to your shoulder as soon as you felt a weight press upon it. You had a scoopful of small candies in your palm. “Those roots of yours will throw better then my hands ever could.”
Riddle’s little face creased with curiosity. He bent down and grabbed a candy, turning it this way and that before commanding a root to wrap around it and throw it over the heads of Ace and Deuce. Deuce decided to be a little menace and tripped Ace before speeding off towards the candy.
You snorted and Riddle gave a soft laughing trill of his own. A rope of roots grabbed each individual candy from your hands and threw them in high and wide arcs. Trey spotted something he liked bounce on the ground and slide under a tree’s roots. He slid right there with it, getting his butt stuck.
Cater had his clones at the ready to grab as many candies as possible, but one heavy lollipop bounced on his head, then onto the heads of the rest of his clones in succession.
“Whoops,” you said with a sigh, “threw it a little too well, Riddle.”
Just to ease the worried look on your Roseling’s face, you unwrapped a strawberry cream candy and held it to his face. He only took one sniff before practically wretched it from your hold.
Adorable. They’re all adorable.
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arcanestage · 1 year
Text
THESE ALLERGIES! THESE FEELINGS!
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characters: yuno / fuegoleon / nozel x gn!reader
summary: you keep having these brief but pretty intense allergic reactions when they come near you and perhaps the only cure is to confess and tell them about your feelings. (antihistamines won’t work sorry!)
a/n: inspired by marta cabrera from knives out (2019) where she literally vomits every time she tells a lie. this is 100% crack like i don’t even know what is going on
also hello sorry i haven't posted anything since *checks notes* january of last year ok anyways enjoy!
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yuno
the exact moment you felt your heart beating erratically every time you look at yuno, you knew it was over for you. you were in love and hated every second of it.
it started out as harmless little sneezes with you sniffing every now and then. but then as the days went by, your symptoms started to become bothersome and pretty intense. intense in a way that mere eye contact with him would set off your allergies. crazy, right?
at one of your missions, he flew right beside you on the way to the location. you sneezed so hard you fell off of your broom. yuno, of course, having lightning speed reflexes, swooped you up before you could hit the ground.
these feelings of yours will get you killed quite literally.
the very close proximity to him, however, triggered a massive wave of sneezing.
“y/n, are you alright?”
“fine, fine.” you waved him off with your hand. “must be the awful weather.”
you were so embarrassed you couldn’t even look at him. you needed to look unbothered though, so you got up but felt pretty lightheaded and with knees wobbling. yuno grasped your forearm to try and steady you.
“t-thanks,” you reeled back, suddenly feeling something itchy. true enough, rashes were forming on the area on your forearm where yuno had touched.
you muttered curses under your breath. yuno said nothing but was quite worried upon seeing you distressed.
you took a deep breath and clasped your hands together. “you can go on and catch up with the rest of the gang. i’ll just fly back to the base and get some rest,”
“let me accompany you th—”
“NO!” you blurted out a little too loudly.
“no,” you say again, this time more composed.
“okay,” he said, ever so stoically, and then handed you your broom. “page me if you need anything,”
what are you, my boyfriend? you thought.
“what?”
so you might’ve said that out loud. whoops!
you pretended not to hear and instead tried to mount yourself on your broom. yuno is usually not one to pry or meddle into other people’s business. unfortunately for you, today is not that day.
“y/n.” he grabbed ahold of your wrist. “what did you mean by that?”
you pulled your hand back out of reflex but yuno’s grip only tightened.
rashes were forming on your wrist and they were starting to get itchy. you sighed really loudly.
“it means that you are not my boyfriend and therefore not required to act so concerned about me,” you huffed, your impatience growing each second. “can i go now?”
yuno glitched for a minute; no movement, no reply, nothing. he was still holding onto your hand but you felt his grip loosen.
“do you…” he hesitated for a bit. “do you want me to be… your boyfriend?”
oh you felt like you were going to be sick.
much to your horror (and yuno’s), you were caught up in a seemingly neverending loop of sneezing.
yuno kind of panicked, the shock very much evident in his features.
“let me call mimosa. i’m sure th—”
“no it’s okay! *sneeze* i know how to stop it,”
“okay. how can i be of help then?”
“just… listen,”
a slight pause and then…
“i like you. more than squadmates, more than even being friends. i wanna be with you but like if you aren’t into me that way then that’s cool too like i’d be okay with us being friends i guess—” you rambled nonstop, stumbling over your words.
before you could continue, yuno suddenly pulled you into his arms. you were pretty shocked at first but soon relaxed and let yourself melt into his embrace. he was so warm.
after a few moments, he finally released you. he cupped your cheek and looked at you ever so fondly. “let me repeat. do you want me to be your boyfriend?”
“yes,” you whispered then proceeded to close the gap between your lips and his.
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fuegoleon
never in a million years did you think you’d develop feelings for this man.
you admired fuegoleon from afar like any of your squad mates would. every time he was around, you would subtly stare at him because let’s face it he’s good to look at! most of your squadmates admired him in a way that differs from yours but hey, they’re admiration all the same.
apart from being super good looking, he had an equally amazing personality too, reinforcing your infatuation with him all the more.
so now, the mere sight of him makes you feel sick — the butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach non-metaphorically. you couldn't believe that a MAN could possibly have this much effect on you. you'd been so in denial for a few days, ignoring whatever feelings you were harboring for him. it was manageable at first. but then your darned body started to react violently in the form of allergies.
you and your team were summoned by fuegoleon for a post-mission report. while your other member was giving out theirs, you suddenly sneezed.
“s-sorry,” you apologized immediately, covering your face in embarrassment.
fuegoleon chuckled. “what a cute sneeze, y/n.”
your life has never been the same after that. these allergies of yours were so bad that sometimes you could feel your throat tighten seemingly not being able to breathe.
all these over a man? CRAZY
you were afraid of dying so you tried as best you could to avoid atleast being in the same room as him. every thing was going well until…
“y/n!”
your friend made their way over to you during lunch break. they seem so giddy, like a toddler with too much sugar consumption.
“y/n, how come i never see you anymore?”
“well we somehow never get shuffled into the same team lately,” you laughed.
which was obviously a lie. you had always been in missions spearheaded by fuegoleon himself but ever since The Thing happened, you always begged off from anything with fuegoleon in them.
"i miss being team mates with you!" your friend sulked. "even captain fuegoleon notices your absence,"
you almost choked. the butterflies in your stomach were going feral.
"yeah, he's always looking for you. y/n this, y/n that."
needless to say, this whole ordeal changed your life yet again. so instead of being a pussy for eternity, you thought about telling him. no, you WERE going to tell him.
you lingered for a bit outside his office, suddenly not as confident as you were 5 minutes ago. but before you could completely chicken out, the door swung open revealing a startled fuegoleon.
"y/n, i didn't expect to see you here. did you need to discuss something with me?"
you stood there as frozen as a block of ice. you couldn't breathe, you couldn't say anything.
"y/n? is there something wrong?"
"no, i just...i--"
fuck it, you thought
"i'm here to tell you that i like you. that is all."
(that was embarrassing and did not go as planned but atleast you're now free from those dreadful allergies.)
you were about to run off but before you could move your feet, fuegoleon spoke up.
"you know," he cleared his throat, as if he was preparing to say something embarrassing. "i find myself thinking about you a lot these past few days,"
the allergies may have gone, but the butterflies were still there.
"oh. that's... that's nice?"
he said nothing. an uncomfortable silence then proceeded to fill the space between you.
"so um, is this the part where you tell me you like me but not enough to be in a relationship with me?"
"no, no. not at all. this is the part where i ask you out on a date." he chuckled. "forgive me for my silence, i was trying to think of places i could take you to for our dates,"
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nozel
it would be a lie to say that you didn’t look up to nozel. you’ve occasionally worked with him in a couple of missions and your relationship sprouted for nothing to casual hi-hello’s when passing by each other around the silver eagles headquarters. sometimes you’d notice him looking at you, his eyes lingering more than you think they should. that or you could be delusional or maybe even hallucinating.
the thing about him is that he notices EVERYTHING. he is quite perceptive, a characteristic fit for a captain of a well-renowned squad in the kingdom. so when you started showing up at his office looking sick, he was concerned.
“y/n, you look quite ill.” he put his pen down and frowned. “and you have rashes all over your face. have you had those checked?”
he got up and made his way to you to inspect your face. the closer he got, the itchier your face felt.
and when his fingertips touched your chin to tilt your head up little? you felt like you were about to combust, your heart banging around inside your ribcage.
that’s when you knew that your rashes were triggered by no less than nozel (and your feelings for him).
you backed up a little, a shaky laugh coming out of your mouth. “i-i should go and get this checked like you said, captain.”
with that, you sprinted out the door and headed towards your room. as if on cue, your rashes disappeared. you dusted yourself off as if nothing happened and continued with your day praying you won’t run into nozel by the corridors.
the whole afternoon went by without a hitch with you successfully avoiding nozel… or so you thought.
you were finishing up your last chore for the day aka cleaning up one of the rooms in the headquarters when suddenly someone entered the room.
you’d been sneezing like crazy a few minutes before that someone entered the room. you knew it was him.
“y/n—”
“DON’T come any closer,” you spun around and held up your broom menacingly.
in his list of things he did not expect to occur today this was at the top. he was stunned, and gave you a “what is WRONG with you” look then proceeded to just roll with it.
“i do not know why you’re acting this way but i came by to ask about how your check up with the doctor went. hopefully those rashes of yours don’t pose any serious threat to your health?”
“they’re just allergies,” you quickly responded, still hypervigilant, watching him like he was a predator on the loose.
nozel ignored whatever the hell was going on with you and took a step forward.
you took a step back.
nozel quirked an eyebrow up. “are you perhaps in a delirious state because of your illness?”
“what? no!”
“bitten by a rabid animal?”
“NO!”
“then wh—”
“okay fine! i’m so in love with you and it’s making me sick!!!”
in the same list of things he did not expect to happen today, this was second. he was — yet again — stunned to say the least.
he was silent too. so silent you swear you could hear your confession echoing through the room.
after realizing he had spaced out for a while, he cleared his throat. you knew he was embarrassed.
“come have dinner with me at 7 o’clock. wear something nice,”
as turned around to leave, you caught a glimpse of his cheek and giggled. he was blushing.
guess that's enough proof that he likes you too!
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