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#i remember when i was Little enough for my mom to do my hair every morning (and i had long hair) she would do all these fancy braids with it
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i really want to be one of those beautiful girls who always have impeccable hair and natural-looking makeup but the truth is most days i truly don’t have the desire to put anything more than the bare minimum into my appearances
#i’m pretty simple tbh#i have great fashion taste (and am willing to admit it hehe) and i like to look good so i put care into choosing what clothes to wear#but i never really cared at all about makeup besides lipstick and eyeliner#(my best friend who is one of the most beautiful people i know would always wear black eyeliner and mascara and i just loved the look)#on a good day i accept myself the way i am but other times it’s hard to feel beautiful#i don’t know why but the thought of having to set aside time to do my makeup every day make me cringe a little bit inside#and then i see my little sister and my cousin and so many other girls and i’m like ‘belle you gotta step it up for people to start seeing yo#you differently and as more attractive.’#i remember when i was Little enough for my mom to do my hair every morning (and i had long hair) she would do all these fancy braids with it#and after a while i’d just… had enough of the fancy hairstyles. no more sitting still while someone braids my hair for me#so i got a shoulder-length haircut and never looked back and i’m FINE with just wearing my hair loose and natural every day now#but it’s quite think & dry & curly so it’s not always that easy#anyway traditional beauty standards SUCK#it shouldn’t be like that but it is. and i think a lot about the notion of ‘femininity’ and especially feminine beauty standards that are pl#placed on hispanic women and wonder just how much of that was passed down to me through my mother#i swear i will get a pixie cut and/or keep my hair short even if it is partially out of spite#belle speaks#this post is sponsored by tiktok LMAO
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futureman · 8 months
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hi idk if u remember me but i literally love u okay anyways
so literally just dbf!joel saying “sweetheart i need you to be quiet” and ”baby i’m gonna cum if you don’t shut up” and maybe covering her mouth at some point 🤭
have a wonderful day and thank u sm for ur time 🙏🏾
hii love, ofc i remember you! tysm for sending this in ♡ accidentally got inspired by my dinner last night, oops. hope you enjoy!!
does your mother know?
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
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warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, close family friend!joel, language, smut, rough sex, unprotected piv, age gap, mild exhibitionism, old man joel can't keep it in his pants at family dinner
word count: 1.7k
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Friday night dinner wasn’t supposed to go like this.
One hand buried in your hair and the other slapped over your mouth, muffling every moan and sigh you make while Joel fucks you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom of your family home. 
He'd arrived late with a charming, drawled apology and immediately made the mistake of taking the seat across from you. If he'd sat literally anywhere else, he might've been able to ignore the perfect curve of your tits in the lowest-cut shirt he'd ever seen you in, or your constant need for the salt and pepper shakers, conveniently placed right in front of his plate. 
Every time you leaned over the table, he was reminded of the fact that you’d decided to forgo a bra. Whether that was for his benefit or yours, he was doing his best not to find out. 
Not after your parents had taken the time to invite him here, insisting that he eat a home-cooked meal for once, knowing full well he's been surviving off TV dinners ever since Sarah left for college.
“That’s kinda rude of me, huh?” you smiled sheepishly after giving him a particularly revealing peek, but the look that followed was downright sinful. "My bad, I just didn’t wanna keep interrupting your dinner by asking you to pass the salt. Figured it’s been a while since the last time you ate."
And you were right. It had been a while since he’d tasted anything as sweet as you, that satisfied him the way you do, but you already knew that. It’s why you were baiting him—because you know he can’t resist you.
Still, he tried. He really did, but the Southern gentleman in him couldn't refuse dessert or the hefty glass of wine your mom poured after he'd finished helping her clear the table. So, when he'd found himself trapped between your familiar warmth and the armrest of the couch, he should've known there'd be trouble.
When you'd casually gestured a little too widely during the story you were telling and splattered half the glass across his flannel and jeans, he should've gone to the bathroom to treat the stains alone instead of accepting your apologetic offer to help.
He should’ve known better. 
But the second your doe eyes lock with his, roving over his body like the lovely dinner your mom made wasn’t nearly enough to fill you up, he realizes he does know better. He just doesn't give a shit.
And that's why you're bent over the sink, taking his cock like you were made for it, and making the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. You either don’t care enough to stop, regardless of whether your parents can hear you or not, or you’re too blissed out to notice. But he does.
“Sweetheart, I need ya to be quiet,” he grits out tightly, barely audible over his hips slamming into yours and the filthy squelch of your pussy around him. “Don’t want us gettin’ caught, do ya?”
You can’t respond, or even nod, with his hand still held firmly over your mouth, so you whine your acknowledgment into his palm, squeezing your eyes shut as you try your best to do what he asked. 
You’re clearly struggling. Those muted, stuttered whimpers grow louder every time he buries himself to the hilt, and he almost wants to remove his hand and let the sounds of your pleasure echo around the room, so everyone in this house knows just how good he’s making his girl feel. 
“I know, baby, I know. Feels good, don’t it? S’hard to keep all those pretty noises in when you’re takin’ so much, but I need’ya to try,” his lips graze your ear with each growled word. 
Another pained whimper passes your lips through the cracks between his fingers, and he accidentally bucks into you harder than he means to. Christ, he’s never heard you sound like this before. So needy. He shouldn’t, but he wants to hear more. To feel your chest vibrate with it, watch in the mirror as your mouth parts around even just one perfect, drawn-out moan.
The hand buried in your hair trails down your neck, beautifully elongated as your back arches to take him deeper, and snakes around your body. He tugs down the front of your shirt—that flimsy fucking tank top that's been teasing him all night—to cup your breast and, fuck, you like that. Your pussy grips him in response, clenching intermittently while he roughly tweaks your nipple between two calloused fingers. 
You’re tight, almost too tight for him to keep up his merciless pace if he wants to last much longer, and so goddamn wet. You’re seeping right into the wine-stained fabric of his jeans, making an even bigger mess than you started with.
“Look at ya,” he mumbles, slowing to watch in awe as his cock drags against your entrance, reappearing slicker with every thrust. “So fuckin’ tight...and sloppy. You’re makin’ a mess of me, sweetheart."
You shudder under his rapt attention, at the sheer want in his voice, but despite the obvious effect of his words, you’re still staying quiet, just like he told you to. You’ve been such a good girl, so he decides to take a risk and reward you. 
“M'gonna let go, alright? But ya gotta keep bein' good for me," he leans down to press his lips between your shoulder blades, his hand dropping from your mouth to settle on your waist. "Don't need'ta be silent, just need'ya to keep it down. Can ya do that?"
You gasp as his slow, deep thrusts still and he presses flush against your ass, grinding into you languidly as he waits for your answer. 
"Y-yeah...yes, yes," you reply weakly, cold ceramic digging into your breasts as you pant heavily into the sink. "Keep going—p-please, just fuck me."
"That's my girl," he breathes raggedly, and he's a little ashamed at how quickly his balls start to tighten at the soft timbre of your voice. 
His pace abruptly picks up, and then he's forcing you onto his cock again, his hips slamming into yours with a steady, wet thock-thock-thock that's probably louder than you've been all night. But he doesn't stop—you feel way too fucking good to stop, and he likely couldn't even if he tried.
In the back of his mind, he tells himself that your parents are probably doing dishes by now, and whatever he's doing to their daughter upstairs is getting drowned out by running water and clattering dishware. 
He continues to repeat the shitty lie to himself as he yanks you up, pulling your back flush against his chest and wrapping an arm around your stomach to hold you in place. The abrupt shift changes the angle of his hips so he’s fucking up into you instead, and it feels...indescribable. 
He's hitting something he wasn't able to reach before, a sensitive spot impossibly deeper inside you that has your pussy squeezing him, gushing down his cock, and he's—
Fuck, he's not going to last long. 
"Mmph...fuck—there, Joel, there. So, so fucking close, please, need it harder."
Christ, and you begging him to fuck you harder isn't helping. His hand drops between your legs to your swollen clit, slipping through the slick mess to rub tight, insistent circles into the hardening nub, and the heady friction has your thighs quaking almost immediately. 
"S'good...feels soso good," you slur deliriously, teetering on the cusp of your orgasm. "Wanted you so fucking bad all night...ngh, should've fucked me right there on the table—"
Joel cuts you off before you can finish, pushed a little too far past his limit.
"Baby, m'gonna cum if ya don’t shut up," he grits through his teeth, still pounding into that spot, still rubbing hard and fast swirls into your clit, and he can feel how close you are.
"F-fuck, me too—m'so close. Fill me up, please."
That sends him over the edge. You barely have time to gasp in a breath before he shoves you back down, lifting one of your legs up to the side so he can sink even deeper as he practically mounts you on the edge of the sink.
"Fuck yeah, I'll fill ya up," he groans, drawn-out and wrecked, as he empties inside you, thick spurts coating your convulsing walls. His hands greedily roam your body, caressing every inch of bare skin he can reach. "Send ya back downstairs to your momma and daddy with my cum leakin' out of ya. Filthy fuckin' girl."
Three more achingly deep thrusts, and then you're cumming hard, exploding hot and wet around him, already feeling him start to drip out of you and down your thighs. Your entire body seizes, desperate not to make a single sound while he fucks you through your orgasm, but then Joel meets your eyes in the mirror.
The warm chestnut of his eyes has been completely overtaken by his blown-pupils and he looks a little wild, like he's about to do something you'll both regret. Then, he does. Without warning, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and bites down hard, sucking a bruise into your skin he knows you won't be able to hide, and the squeal that erupts from your chest is high-pitched enough that you know everyone in the house heard it.
The thought alone stokes the heat already starting to build in the pit of his groin again, and the sight of his cum leaking out of your pussy in thick globs when he pulls out only fans the flames.
"M'takin' you home, sweetheart. Gonna fuck ya the way you deserve," he mumbles into your marked skin, and you tremble in his arms, whimpering softly through an aftershock. "Then, you can scream as loud as ya want—"
"Everything alright up there?" Your mom's voice filters up the stairs. "What, did one of y'all fall into the sink?"
Joel noses into your hair, chuckling before he responds.
"Just finished."
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animeshotsh · 3 months
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Devils Touch | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader |
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Summary: Being forced to take pills alongside your mother just seems enough to end in hell...
Warnings: Suicide mentions | Death | Canon Violence| Cursing | Lucifer its a softie | SFW | Reader its between 5-7 | Reader takes the form of a sheep/cat mix | Reader's mom sucks tbh | Maybe platonic!yandere Luci? |
When you opened your eyes everytning was red. Screams and insults filled the air, the smell of blood and other things you could not understand filled your nose making you gag.
"Mom?" You asked to no one, no one took note of you. All you could see were strange creatures, some more human and some more animal.
Tears went down your face, you could remember being forced to take some pills. Your mother crying while she did the same.
Something was wrong, really wrong.
"And what do we have here?" A stranger voice said taking you by the collar, you ended up meeting with sharp red eyes, and that look....it did not mean well.
"L-let me go" you screamed trying to get free from this thing. Reacting out you saw your hands were now black with claws, making your mind quick you attacked that thing.
It let you go with a small "fuck". You took of running, not knowing where to go, but you could hear that thing behind you chasing you.
Taking a quick look behind you ended against something. Looking up someone wearing a white suit with a cane and a hat that had a snake looked to you.
"P-please help me" you tried again "I dont know whats happening I want my mom"
The stranger took you by your arms to inspect you.
Lucifer stood there with no emotion seeing the "x" on your neck. Suicide? He thought seeing the mark. But you were just a kid, with fluffy cat hears and a tail, however your hair was not the one from a cat but the one from a sheep...or a lamb. Two little horns did also appear on top of your head.
He cursed inside his mind. Maybe you were killed, or forced to something. You were too small, your soul did not let out any type of malice besides the "sin" of taking your own life.
He soon saw a Demon coming towards him, most likely looking for you, and with no debout their intentions were not good.
Just one flick of his hand the Demon was gone. You were shaking looking at him and then around you.
Fuck, he wished Charlie was here, he knew she would be able to calm you down.
Taking care of sinners was not his job. His job was to rule hell, but he could not just leave you in here. He was sure you would be dead again in seconds.
Or worse.
"Calm down Kid, im going to take care of you" his voice was as soft as he could. Turning around opening a gold portal to his home "whats your name?"
He nodded once he hear your name, carefully petting your head. He passed by many old photos of his family. A maid appear besides him looking at the sinner in his arms.
"Please, prepare a bath and get some clothes " Lucifer requested passing you to her.
Or well, trying to.
"N-no, I dont want to go with her!" Your hands took an iron grip on his suit.
Lucifer almost panicked at your state but tried to remember what he used to do when Charlie was this young.
"Listen, she is someone good. You will be taken care off. We can have lunch later, and some sweets"
"...chocolate?" You asked with pleading eyes
~☆~☆~☆~
After your bath and food you were in a better mood. Lucifer used this time to show you around the house while asking you different questions to try and know why you had ended in here.
He showed you his ducks collection and almost passed out by how much you loved them. You ignored him as you played with the duck, almost burning the wall with one of them.
Lucifer decided to tired you up and then look up for your mothers soul. If you two died together...then the chances of her being down here were high.
~☆~☆~☆
It was harder than he expected. The sugar from the chocolate gave you so much energy you ended checking every room of the house. Lucifer behind you trying to stop you from getting hurt or from breaking something.
"Catch me if you can!" You joked while he tried to balance two statues.
With a swing of his wings he was able to catch you, rolling down the stairs and laughtning with you. You seemed....happy almost forgetting your situation. To you this could be nothing but a bizarre dream.
~☆~☆~
Once you were tired enough, Lucifer took you to one room. His heart made a flip when you took his arm pulling him close.
But he needed to go and see where your mother's soul was. So he made the maid stay outside your room just in case you woke up.
~☆~☆~
"That fucking bastard, son of a bitch, cursed slut" Lucifer screamed almost burning his office. Turns out, your mother was not in hell or heaven, she was alive, whatever she was triying to do failed for her.
He wanted to go there and kill her himself. Not only her but heaven as well, you were just a kid. Sure, you had cursed, and lied sometimes, he had read your record of sins. But that was not enough to make you end down here.
He knew your faith was sealed. Heaven would never admit they made a mistake or listen to him for starters. He had to calm down and think.
And after some minutes he decided the safest option would be for you to stay with him. He was not sure how he would explain to you who he was or what had happened. But he knew a few things, besides him no one would try to hurt you, and also you made him feel happy again. He could raise you, be a better father, be someone you could relay on.
"Its decided" he said to himself, picking up a pen and a paper, he wrote down your name and his last name. This way the other sins and overlords would know not to mess with you.
"Dont worry (y/n) im going to protect you.
~☆~☆~
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lady-ashfade · 3 months
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Yeah, she’s my mom.
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Sally Jackson x wife reader x son!percy.
-£ Is this apart of the lore? No. Do I care? Not at all. So forget Gade and have Sally have a good partner. Let Percy have a good step parent. And, because I want her to be my wife.
-£ Warnings: Show and book spoilers, short, “Death”, Demigod luck, everything that happens in the show and the first book but with the reader, my idea of comfort, kinda angst but I’m trying to make this fluffy. Saying this again. Spoilers for the events that will hopefully be in the next two episodes
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there was no doubt in his mind that you were meant to be his mom.
when his mother found you he remembered the glow she started to had. you made her so happy and even he could see that at a young age. but the way you cared for him to without a question, letting him cook with you at times and always poke his face with flour. or the time you sat with him when his mom was sick and played with him for hours and you didn’t even bat a eye.
there was always a lovely smell in the air that even he could smell sometimes when he was at school. it was sweet and smelled like every baked good in the world in one place. it brought him comfort. your scent was strong enough to lead monsters away, he didn’t smell like a demigod. the way his mother looked at you, the way you held her and helped out, made him realize that true love existed. and you were meant to be in their lives. to be his mother.
he could remember the first time he actually met you.
“hello there,” you bend down so low to his height, or close to it. the warm smile made him feel welcome, “your mommy says you are special? That’s great, I seem to need a helper in the back. you think you can help?”
he looked up at his mom as he clings to her hand, asking for permission. she gave him a slight nod. he let go and gave you the same look and took your hand. “thanks for letting me borrow your little hero.”
that was the first time and for the rest of the day he didn’t realize his mom was away. the time with you was so special but he quickly needed a nap and he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie. you were the best babysitter. so every time his mother had somewhere to go he would find himself at your house.
soon after, you moved in with them! It was great since he got to see you all the time now. Then he got enrolled into school and he saw less of you but couldn’t help but count down the second he could see his mom and you.
sally, she was the best lover in the whole world. she was so loving to you. making your heart swell with warmth when you were near her. she had some fire in her and you loved that about her, unless you were on the end of that. there was no life without her.
so you two got married.
years after being sent to school after school, Sally could see how worried you became. and it pained her to never tell you the truth of who Percy was, who his father was, and much more. you constantly looked for schools to fit him and offered to get a extra job just to send him there. but each time she refused because they would be to far away.
but when percy came home. after she got a call from grover. “Dear, I think me and percy need some time to..” she glanced at him as he looked at her confused, “have some time alone.” That’s not how it ever went done. you all did things together.
“Of course.” you just smiled as you always did. understanding. you reached for him and ruffled his hair. “Be good for your mother, got it?” He huffed to fake being annoyed and agreed. he was sad you couldn’t come
if only he knew that would be the last time he saw you for a long time.
the trip to the beach cabin was smooth. him and his mom being normal as always and reconnecting their memories. until the night went south when he started to share his doubts with his mom. that he was broken. he was convinced that everything about him wasn’t normal. it didn’t help when his mom told him the truth of who his father was, and what that made him.
everything was so confusing, Grover turning out to be a goat. Them being chased by a minotaur with underpants, going to a “camp” for half-bloods like him? Yeah, he was probably going crazy.
“Mom!” Percy yelled as he watched his mom reach out to him one last time until she turned to dust in the monster hands. every part of his body boiling with anger that she was taken away. he saw you. how you had just lost your wife too but you had no clue, sitting at home all alone while everything went down.
you didn’t know. that sally was dead, that percy was safe, where he was or his mom. how scared you must be feeling right now. and it took all his willpower to stop himself from buying tickets back home and see you while he was supposed to be looking for the lighting bolt.
when he saw the video of you crying on tv he started to tear up. you defended him from all the accusations that he was involved. saying there was no way your sweet boy would ever hurt his mother.
“If you’re seeing this, come home.”
he almost died so many times. but he had to save his mom, he had to get himself and her back to you.
hades was touched by percy’s actions and  released his mother after everything went down. his mom returned. The manhunt for him resolved. But there was a new war coming, and he was betrayed. And even if he needed to stay at camp for the whole year and train. There was only option he could take.
To go back home.
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darkbluekies · 7 months
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Secrets
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Mafia!yandere x reader x hidden brother
Summary: Silas has a brother you've never heard of, who seems to be just what you need, so you decide to escape with him, only to find out even more secrets.
Warnings: mafia, crime, scamming, murder, blood, manipulation, mentions of selling a human, smuggling, nsfw mentions (let me know if I missed one)
Word count: 5.5k
Silas has brought you to his family's summer house on the Greek island of Rhodos for you to be alone, away from everyone. Only you and him for a week. Weirdly enough, it brings you some kind of relief. His men and his work has worn you out.
"Stay here, I have to go get some food for us", Silas says and picks up his wallet. "I'll be back in thirty minutes, baby, so try not to die in the meantime."
"I won't", you promise.
Silas smiles and kisses your lips. "Good. I love you, little thing. I'll be back soon."
He locks the door behind him. You breathe out and finally relax your body. Being all alone with Silas has been excruciating. If he learned to keep his hands to himself, you wouldn't feel as tired as you do now. Every night, he wants to feel you underneath him.
Just a few minutes later, you hear the lock turn. Silas must have forgotten something. But the man who walks in … isn't Silas. You could swear that it was in your first glance. The man looks extremely like Silas with thick, black hair, dark eyes and broad build. This man, however, has a bigger nose and lips.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he gasps as he walks in. "I didn't know Silas was here."
You take a step backwards. When someone knows Silas, it is almost always bad.
"Who are you?" you ask suspiciously. 
"I'm Ares, Silas’s younger brother", he says and holds out his hand in front of him in a pleading way. "Please don't be afraid. I'm not like my brother." He looks around. "Where is he, anyways?"
"He'll be here soon …"
"What's your name? You're Silas’s partner, right?"
You nod hesitantly. There's a bad feeling in your stomach. 
"I've heard about you", Ares smiles sweetly and rolls his eyes. "Or not about about you. Silas never tells anything to the family, but I've heard that he has a partner. There's a rumor."
Ares sits down by the kitchen table. You follow him closely with your eyes.
"How is he treating you?" Ares asks carefully and points at your neck. "He isn't hurting you, is he?"
Your hand shoots up to your neck, remembering the (probably) hundreds of love bites Silas has left on you.
"N-No!" you stutter embarrassedly. "This isn't-!"
"Oh, I see. Sorry for assuming. I just know that my brother isn't a very soft person so I just- … that was dumb of me, I apologize."
"It's okay …"
Ares smiles coyly. You find yourself smiling slightly at the awkward misunderstanding. 
"What was your name?" he asks.
"Y/N", you say.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I didn't mean to intrude like this. I was under the impression that the house would be empty."
"It's fine-"
Your sentence is cut short by the door opening.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Ares?" Silas growls and holds out his hand to you. "Y/N, come here."
You walk over to your boyfriend who is quick to scoot you behind him.
"Mom and dad said that the summer house was free", Ares says and crosses his muscular arms — something that seems to run in the family — with a cocky smile. "You didn't tell them that you were here."
"Why should I? They disowned me, they don't need to know about my whereabouts. Now get out. I don't want you anywhere near my partner."
Ares stands up. He walks over to Sials, glancing at you over his shoulder.
"A tip, big bro", he says amusedly with raised eyebrows, "if you break Y/N when you're having sex, you'll be living in involuntary abstinence for weeks. Don't be so rough."
Silas flinches forward upon hearing your name, as if he's about to attack him, but seems to force himself to remain still. Ares leaves, closing the door behind him. Silas turns to you instantly, cupping your cheeks.
"What did he do to you?" he asks quickly, worry glowing in his eyes. "Tell me everything."
"He didn't do anything", you answer. "I'm okay. You never told me that you have a brother."
"Y/N, he's a horrible man, I don't want you talking to him. I hid him for a reason."
Silas's usual jealousy is talking again, you notice.
"Pack your bag, we're leaving tonight."
"Silas, I don't want to go back. I hate it there."
"You're safe at home. Apparently, you're not here."
"Silas, who cares if your brother knows that we're here?"
"No one should know where we are, do you get that? Only my closest men should know about my whereabouts. I don't even trust people in my organization. Go pack your bags now."
You sigh and give in. You notice how quiet Silas is. He throws everything around and glares. With a harsh grip on your hand, he pulls you with him to his car and speeds all the way to the airport. You're afraid of opening your mouth. He's going to explode at any moment … but you can't stand this much longer. The second his private jet lifts from the runway, you decide to try to ease the air.
"Silas, please", you say quietly with tears in your eyes. "You're scaring me."
That seems to snap Silas out of his dark cloud. His eyes dark over to you and soften, as if he's realized that you're there as well.
"Oh, I'm sorry, baby", he apologizes and unbuckles his seatbelt. "Come here."
You unbuckle your own and walk over. He pulls you down into his lap and hides his face into your abused neck. You can feel his heavy sigh.
"Why are you crying?" he asks quietly into your neck.
"I don't like it when you're mad .. every time you're mad, you kill someone", you whisper in horror. "I don't want you to be mad. I don't understand. He's just your brother-"
"I hate that piece of shit. Don't call him my brother."
You gulp.
"I will not let him take you", Silas mumbles and tightens his embrace on you. "He's always wanted everything I have. Even when we were kids. He threw tantrums when I got presents on my birthday because he wanted his own. If my dense, thick brained parents hadn't given in ye probably wouldn't he a piece of shit now."
Younger siblings are often like that, you're not surprised. Always wanting what the older one has — to be like them.
Silas lifts his head from your neck and presses his lips to yours.
"You're mine", he tells you and gives you a gaze you can't seem to read. "Say it, say that you're mine."
"I'm yours, Silas", you say hesitantly. "Please calm down, I'm uncomfortable."
He sighs heavily and intertwines your fingers.
"I'm sorry, baby", he apologizes. "Ares just pisses me off like no one else."
"You'll not have to meet him again", you remind him. "You ran into him by accident."
"Yeah, I guess. If I had known that he would stumble in like a fucking pig I would never have left you alone. I don't even want to imagine what he could have done …"
"Silas, I'm okay, right? Nothing happened. He was friendly, you have nothing to worry about?"
He scoffs. "Nothing to worry about? Yeah, right."
"Can we please drop this now? I don't want to sit with you if you're going to be like this."
You're about to stand up, but he pulls you down again.
"Alright, alright, I'll not talk more about it. Just stay."
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A month passes. Silas weird behavior has finally toned down and to make up for his extremely overprotective manner, he's agreed to take you out on a car drive. Silas needs to meet up with a "colleague" to trade something he hasn't told you. You don't question that anymore — frankly, knowing will only bring you nausea and headaches.
Silas’s car has many buttons and screens inside, both in the front and behind the seats, LEDs that light up in different colors and heaters under your seat. The car is more comfortable than your bedroom. 
He parks the car in a gas station, making it look like he's supposed to fuel his car, when in reality, he walks off to meet with his contact. Before he leaves, he handcuffs your hand to the steering wheel and locks all doors. Knowing that you can unlock them from inside paranois him. You sigh and look around you for something to keep your eyes on, finding a familiar face in the slot beside you. Ares has parked his red sports car beside the gas pump. He smiles when noticing you and gets out of his car. He looks around in confusion. You point towards the gas station  with your free hand. Ares nods and scurries over to you. You unlock your door.
"Y/N, hi", he smiles. "What a coincidence. I’m so glad to see you. Ever after I was kicked out by Silas, I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?"
"What do you think?" you sigh and lift your cuffed hand.
"That's easy to pick." Ares picks up something resembling a needle from his back pocket and inserts it in the lock. Just a minute later, the lock clicks open and you remove the cuff from your wrist. “Y/N, you should come with me. I can save you from him.”
Those words ring in your head. I can save you from him. You can finally get away? Ares tugs on your arm and you realize that you have to decide now, before Silas returns. If you decide to leave with Ares, changes are you’ll have to live on the run for the rest of your life. You’re certain that SIlas won’t let you go that simple. And once he does catch you again, you’ll have to regain his trust — that took such a long time to acquire. But you don’t want to stay. You don’t want to have his suffocating presence around you, don’t want to be locked in his bedroom all day every day, don’t want to be present in that kind of lifestyle. You just want to go back to normal … although that will never happen. You’ve stepped into this world (although involuntarily) and now you can never get out — not fully at least. 
Ares helps you into the front seat of his sports car. You find it humorous that two brothers who seem to be so completely different like the same things.
"Let's go", Ares says and hits the gas.
"Thank you", you whisper, in shock over what just occurred. "I don't know how I'll repay you."
"Don't worry about it", Ares smiles and glances at you. "I don't think it's safe to get you home to your family. That's the first place Silas will look. Let's go to my house."
"Silas doesn’t know where that is, does he?"
"No. Just relax, Y/N, you're safe now."
You nod and decide to sink down into the car seat. You wonder how Silas is feeling right now.
Ares stops the car in front of a white house before helping you out.
"Is this your house?" you ask.
"No, I'm just using this as a decoy", Ares grins and rolls his eyes. "Come, I'll show you to the guest room. You must be tired."
You nod. If you are. Ares unlocks the door and you step into an empty hall.
"You have to excuse the empty space", Ares says, closing the door behind him. "I just moved in, I haven't had the time to get all the essentials — but I do have beds prepared."
"That's okay", you sat softly.
"The rooms are upstairs. I decided to give you an upstairs bedroom so that in case my big brother ever manages to find this house, he won't reach you. I will be able to stop him before he manages to get upstairs."
You start to walk up the stairs. 
"But he has many men …", you say quietly. 
"Trust me, Y/N, after growing up with him, you learn how to win feuds", Ares chuckles. "He's easy to read, you know? He acts like a child. He hates to share stuff, keeps unnecessary grudges and plays too hard with his toys." Ares raises his eyebrows teasingly and grins at you. "I see that your hickeys are gone."
Your hand touches your neck sheepishly. "Oh, yeah …"
"If you're ever up for some soft sex that doesn't end up looking like a murder scene …" He holds his hand up to his head like a telephone, "call me."
You chuckle and shake your head. Ares smiles and opens a door to your left, showing you a simple bedroom.
"I hope that you'll be able to recover from my brother's treatment here", he says behind you. "I'll leave you be for now. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to tell me, alright?"
"Okay", you nod. "Thank you, Ares. Genuinely. For everything."
"Of course."
He closes the door and you sink down on the mattress, breathing out. For a moment, your entire body goes numb. You really did escape Silas … with the help of Silas's brother. You have to be dreaming. How much more absurd can it get?
You find yourself enjoying Ares's company. You often sit on his couch and watch TV while he plays with his phone. It seems to occupy his every hour. You want to ask about it, but after spending so mu g time with Silas and his demeanor of 'don't ever ask what I'm doing' you hesitate. 
"You've been staring at me five times now", Ares says without looking up from his precious screen. "If you're going to ask something, do it."
"What are you doing?" you ask.
"I'm doing some business. I work mostly online."
"With what?"
Ares looks up from his phone and you freeze. You shouldn't have put your nose into his business. 
"I manage a few companies, just a couple small ones", Ares smiles. "You know — buy, sell, trade. All of that stuff. Why? Are you interested?"
"I just … I don't know. I was just wondering why you were always on your phone."
"Yes, shit, sorry. I'm so used to working all the time. Were you feeling ignored?"
"N-No, not at all. I was just curious."
"That's good. Stay curious. Just not too curious, alright? It was curiosity after all that got you into this situation from the start, wasn't it? You shouldn't have watched what was on that USB."
You gulp, remembering how you and Silas met. You had found a USB in your bag that one of his men had dropped one day. He had tracked the USB ones it had been used … and found you.
"How did you know that?" you ask.
"Do you want to know a secret?" Ares smiles boyishly. "Some of my friends work for Silas. Just under cover, to spy on him a little. They told me. That's how I knew you actually existed. You're just a rumor, but my friends could ascertain that you were real."
The mention of 'friends' brings your thoughts back on your own friends and family.
"Ares, when do you think I can go home?" you ask.
"Not for a while", Ares replies.
"But I've been here for two weeks. I'm bored. I want to meet my family."
"I know, little dove, but that isn't the ideal for now. Silas could take you. We need to be patient."
Little dove? You think that it sounds eerily similar to Silas's favorite pet name for you — little thing.
"Don't call me that", you say quietly, suddenly feeling guilt. "It … reminds me of him …"
"Reminds you of him? I saved you, remember? I'm better than him."
"Yes, yes, I know … but …"
"Come here."
You walk over to him and he takes your hand, kissing it gently.
"You're just overthinking because you're scared", Ares says. "I get that. My brother put you through horrific things. But you don't have to be afraid anymore. You're with me now. Trust me. Trust that I'm doing what's best for you."
You nod, but can't help but feel like his grip on your hand is a bit too tight. You look into his black eyes, searching for some kind of excuse for it — he's just trying to be comforting, it's just how strong his hands are … it runs in the family.
When going to bed that night, you're left with a heavy feeling in your stomach. Ares has been nothing but kind to you, so why do you suddenly feel uneasy? Or is it really sudden? Didn't you feel uncomfortable in his presence the very second you met him for the first time? Before he flashed you that boyish smile of his? Or do you just miss Silas? That can't be it … can it?
You turn in bed. 
Something doesn't feel right. Ares is supposed to be different from Silas, why does everything he does remind you of him? Just being brothers can't be the entire reason. Ares's car is the same type, just in a different color, his flirty behavior reminds you of Silas, just a tad bit different, his strong grip in your hand felt exactly like him and the way he called you "little dove" makes your stomach turn. 
What was it that Ares worked with? Did he ever tell you what he bought and sold and traded? He never told you what companies he owns.
You sit up and look around in the dark room. Ares haven't put in any effort to go out and buy furniture for his new house. The house itself doesn't make sense. Everything about Ares seems so similar to Silas, how come the house is the only thing that separates them? Silas has his black, modern, renovated villah and Ares has … an old, white house? While owning a sports car? While managing so many companies?
Suddenly, you get it all. Why haven't you noticed it before? Have you been trying to pretend that everything is fine so badly that you've missed all the red flags? You scurry out of bed and change into your clothes with shaking hands. 
You sneak out into the corridor, hearing Ares's voice from downstairs.
"No, they're asleep", he says. "Yeah, I'm thinking about doing that … they seem to piece things together and so does my idiotic brother. I can't keep them here. I'm thinking Spain. Silas will never find us there. Last I heard he got banned from entering the country. Or that might have been England. I'm not sure. Bastard's probably banned from half of Europe by now." Ares chuckles. "We'll do just fine in Spain. I know some people there that would pay a lot of money for Y/N. All because they're Silas’s partner, isn't that funny? Everyone has something against Silas and to piss him off, you have to use his little partner."
You freeze. Is Ares planning to smuggle you out of the country to sell you to one of Silas’s enemies? You have to get out of here. Oh, how you wish you were at Silas’s house right now, that you had never accepted Ares’s help. You really do miss your forced boyfriend.
You sneak down the stairs, feeling lightheaded when the wood under your feet creaks. 
"I have to go, mate, I think I have a wandering toddler", Ares says.
You hear him get up from his armchair and suddenly he appears in your vision, right in front of you down the stairs. He smiles sweetly, but you tense up.
"What's wrong?" he asks. "Can't sleep?"
"Are you taking me to Spain?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
He seems to be taken aback for a second but quickly gathers himself. "Yes, I thought that it would be good for you to change scenery to recover. You'll love Spain."
"I don't want to leave the country, Ares. I can recover here. I promise."
Ares eyes narrow. He must have heard the shaking in your voice that you tried so desperately to hide.
"Y/N, do you believe that I want you harm?" he asks calmly, leaning his hand on the wall.
Your heart starts to beat.
"No, of course not", you lie.
Ares smiles and walks up the steps to you. You fight the urge to flinch, suddenly feeling like you're back in Silas’s house — although you were more comfortable in Silas’s company. You knew him better.
"Let's think about it", Ares smiles and rubs your back. "It's late. Spain doesn't disappear overnight, we have time to come to a decision. Come."
He leads you back to your room and gives you your pajamas before leaving you alone. You change and sit down on your bed, holding a shaking hand over your chest.
Suddenly, you hear the door lock. You rush over, feeling the handle — just to assure you that you didn't hear things. It is indeed locked.
"Fuck …", you whisper. "Oh my God, Silas, help me."
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You decide to play along. 
You sit with Ares in the living room every evening, watching the TV. And then, the day comes when you’re supposed to go to Spain. The night before, you know that you have to do something. You don’t want to leave the country. Not with him. 
You put on your clothes and sneak downstairs, finding Ares on his phone as usual. He doesn’t see you sneak by the living room door, over to the front door. You try it once. Locked. This old house needs to be unlocked with a key from the inside — a key you don’t have. You look around quickly, glancing every minute towards the living room. You try the window. Nothing. The only window responding to your tries are the kitchen window above the sink. As quiet as you possibly can, you get up on the counter and pull the window open. WHen climbing out, you accidentally knock a glass over. The sound of glass crashing against metal in the sink makes your heart drop. You don’t wait for any responses. Without a second doubt, you jump down onto the grass outside and run. Past his red sports car, past the gates, down the street. 
From your month at Ares’s house, you’ve learned that the people in the surrounding houses are nothing more than drug addicted humans. No reason to try to get help from them. You run until an old telephone box appears in the distance. If there’s one phone number you’ve had to memorize, it’s Silas. You’re surprised he hasn’t tattooed it on you to make sure you don’t forget. 
You know that you should call the police. You really should … but you have a feeling that they won’t be much help. If there’s one that will help you at all cost … it’s Silas. He will do what it takes. You can’t waste this opportunity on something and someone that might not work.  
You rip the glass door open and grab the phone. 
“A quarter?” you pant in panic, looking around. “I don’t have a quarter!”
To your big surprise, someone must have dropped one while fumbling with their wallet before you. You pick up the shiny coin and press it into the slot before hurrying to press in the phone number.
“Please pick up, please”, you plead, panting. Your entire body is jittering, you can’t stand still. “Please, Silas!”
Finally, the long signals break. Silence.
"Hello?" you pant.
"Y/N?" Silas gasps.
A weird relief flows through you when hearing his voice. You hadn't realized that you had … missed it. 
 "I was wondering who had gotten my private number!" he continues quickly. "Where are you? Are you safe?"
"Ares wants to take me out of the country — to Spain! He wants to leave tomorrow. I'm so sorry I didn't believe you! You were right about him-"
"Where are you?"
You give him the description of the place while he forces his men to track the call. You crouch down while sobbing. Your entire body trembles.
"Don't worry, baby, I will get you", Silas comforts you. "You'll be safe soon, okay? Just hold out for me. I'll be-"
"Deposit another quarter to keep the call going."
"Fuck!" you shout and slam the phone back in its place. 
Everything seems so quiet again. You open the phone box to get some fresh air when you see him. He's standing with his back leaned against the glass cubicle. You freeze.
"You're not a good actor, Y/N", Ares says with a small smile. "You heard everything I said in my phone call that night. You couldn't fool me."
"You were going to smuggle me out of the country and sell me!" you say through gritted teeth. "Silas was right about you. You are jealous of him, want everything he has. But you'll never have that. You're just a copycat."
Ares stands up and takes a step closer. He towers over you like a predator. You force yourself to stand your ground while glaring at him. 
"A copycat?" he asks, raising his eyebrows testingly. You can hear how he's trying his best to stay calm. "How can I copy someone who isn't deserving of anything? He doesn't deserve even half of the things he's gotten. Not his empire, not his wealth, not his reputation, not you."
You gulp, but train your glare on him.
"And you do, or what?" you question.
"I've actually decided to keep you", Ares says with raised eyebrows. "I'm not going to sell you. How could I? Not after you've been so good to me, actually giving me attention for once. Do you know how sick I am of hearing 'Silas this', 'Silas that'? Despite disowning him, my parents still talk about him constantly! It's always been that way. No one cares what Ares does." He points at you. "You listened to me. You had a good time spending time with me — don't try to lie about it — and I'm not letting you go. I'm not going to be alone again. Silas doesn't take care of you in the way I do. In one month, I've fixed what he's destroyed. Unlike him, I give you freedom. I give you what you want. Silas didn't give you a TV, didn't even let you out of your fucking bedroom! He never answered your questions, I do."
"You tricked me. That day you stumbled into the house the only time we were there wasn't a coincidence, was it? Or the day you met us at the gas station? Your friends had told you, hadn't they? Because if they hadn't, how would you just happen to have a lock pick just when I needed one? You pretended that you were nice to lure me away from Silas, but you're just as bad as him."
"So why do you try to go back to Silas, hm? If he's as bad as me? If you can love him, you can love me too, if you are so persistent that we're the exact same."
"Because at least Silas doesn't pretend to be someone else and would never even think about selling me. But since you're so money hungry, Ares, what do you work with? Your companies. They're not legal, are they? None of the money you have is clean, like you pass them as."
"Silas money isn't clean either. If you're going to call me a scum, you better take a good, hard look at your boyfriend. He has people killed, tortured and manhandled. I don't do that. The worst thing I do is put people into debt, I do not kill."
"People die because of that — and that is your fault. You're both bad, don't pretend to be someone honest." Your eyebrows twitch. "For your information, I would never go to Spain with you, even if I didn't know what a total psychopath you are."
Ares smiles a predatory smile that makes your veins turn to ice. "You're going to Spain with me if I have to drag you by your hair."
You give him one last glare before you run. He sets off after you, grabbing you by your arm. He folds it and reaches for the other while kicking the back of your knees. You fall together and give him just enough time to lock you in place. 
He drags you back to his house where his car is already being loaded with bags. A big box is standing on the grass with its lid open.
"If you hadn't been such a pain, Y/N, I wouldn't have to do this", he pants and pushes you into the box, closing it from the outside. "You could have sat beside me in first class, but now you go with the luggage."
You hit, kick and punch. Stars shoot from the pain.
"Let me out!" you shout. "Ares!"
Silence. You can hear the engine of a car starting and disappearing into the distance. And then comes back.
"Y/N?" a familiar voice shouts.
Silas.
You start to kick and punch the wooden box again, shouting back. Soon, the lid opens and you are met by Silas’s worried face. You have never been so happy to see him before. 
"Oh, Y/N …", he breathes out and lifts you up, hugging you tightly. "My baby."
You cry against his body. He squeezes you in his arms, making sure that you really are real. He examines your poor knuckles, giving them a kiss.
"Are you okay?" he asks worriedly. 
"Ares was going to take me to Spain", you sob.
"Yes, you said something about that on the phone. We'll talk more about it later, okay? Now we need to get you home."
You look around in horror. "Where is Ares?"
"Not here, don't worry. If there's one thing about him that he can't change, it's that he's the biggest coward you'll ever meet. I saw him in his car driving past, shouting that you were here. He'd rather blow off his entire operation than get caught."
You breathe out. Silas hangs his coat over your shoulder before placing his arm around you.
"Let's get you home", he says and kisses your temple. "It's about time. Ive missed you so fucking much. I haven’t been able to sleep without you, I’ve been so scared that Ares had killed you. I’ll cut off his hands for touching you. I’ll pluck out his eyes for looking at you, I promise."
“I’ve missed you too”, you admit and wipe your tears. “He tricked me. I’m sorry.”
Silas kisses your lips and caresses your cheek without saying anything. You can see tears in his eyes, for the very first time.
A paper on the ground catches your attention, but before you have time to look at it, Silas asks about what happened and you have to put it in your pocket.
"He has infiltrated your organization", you say as Silas helps you into the front seat. "He has spies in your group who report to him." You tell him the entire story. "He wanted to smuggle me to Spain to sell em to one of your enemies …"
"Bastard", Silas mutters and hits tye instrumental plate with his palm. "He knows I'm banned from there."
"Why?" 
Silas is about to tell you that you shouldn't worry about it, but then sighs. "A murder or two. But that doesn't matter. I'm just happy that you managed to escape him in time to call me. If you hadn't … I probably wouldn't have gotten you back.”
You fiddle with your fingers guiltily in your lap. "I'm sorry for not believing you …"
"Don't be. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you along. I shouldn’t have thought that he’d give up. Ares is a master manipulator. That's why his businesses are going so well. He knows how to manipulate his way into getting what he wants. He played on your insecurities and fears. I should have protected you better.”
“What will happen to him?”
“I’ll let that cowardly cockroach slip away this time. But the next time I see him, I will kill him.” Silas takes your hand with his free one. “From here on, I’ll make sure it never happens again. I’ll get better security and I’ll make sure we can do more stuff … to make sure that you aren’t locked in the bedroom all the time.”
“That sounds nice …” you say quietly. 
You sit in silence for a while. Suddenly, you remember the paper in your pocket. You pick it out and fold it open. For a few seconds, you’re sure that you can’t breathe. 
'I will come back for you and when I do, it’s going to be bloody'
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
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Fooled round & fell in love
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Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?
warnings: fuck boy eddie, afab reader, cursing, eventual smut, might drag this friends to lovers thing out as much as I can or maybe reader will end up with Randy, who knows?
A/N: this is my first fic ever so be nice 🥹👉🏻👈🏻please reblog and comment it would mean everything to me. Also, got the idea of Randy’s name from randy rhoads 🖤
Thank you @myobmaya for reading this and giving me tips before posting.
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“Oh my god! Fuck, I’m so sorry!” You screeched out over the loud music playing in your best friends van.
You slammed the door, still trying to take in what you had just seen, tears forming in your eyes and that familiar feeling of jealousy twisting at your insides. You decide to not torture yourself any longer and instead of going back in to the seedy bar with the rest of your friends you start your long stride home, unlucky for you, your walk is accompanied by racing thoughts of your best friend on top of some groupie. You’re not stupid, you know Eddie is a slut, he all but brags to you about his recent conquests, but you’ve never been faced with it like this, and even though you’re hopelessly in love with him, you can’t help but feel guilty for your feelings.
You and Eddie have been best friends since middle school when he was awkward and had that damn buzz cut. You had fallen in love with him sophomore year, you two had been almost inseparable but at that time he was also gaining a bit of a reputation as a “man whore” if you will
he enjoyed sleeping with different girls but always insisted love and relationships just weren’t for him, so of course you would do everything you could to hide your feelings, last thing you would want to do is fuck up your friendship and you’ve made yourself believe having Eddie in your life in any form is enough, but you’re not so sure about that anymore.
After making your way home from the hideout you decide you need a shower and some sleep, and to just forget about all this bullshit that won’t stop swirling around in your head. But of course not even a hot shower can help you cleanse your mind of that picture. You tell yourself you have no right to be jealous or angry, you’re not his girlfriend and never will be, but it still hurts.
After your shower you throw on some pajamas, brush your hair, put your Rainbow tape in your Walkman and blast stargazer until you drifted off to sleep.
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It’s been two days since you talked to Eddie which wasn’t completely out of the norm being that you’ve graduated and it’s summer you don’t see him regularly like you’re use to but this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing his voice as you usually talk to him nightly on the phone. He’s called a few times but you had your mom tell him you weren’t home. You just can’t deal with any of it right now and you know if you see him you’ll let your feelings for him slip and mess up everything. So for now you’re sitting in bed listening to music, all you wanna do at the moment is get high and forget these feelings you can’t seem to shake but you usually get your weed from Eddie and that’s just not an option at the moment, as you physically shake that idea from your head, you remember someone else that can help supply you with what you need.
As you walk up to the front door of the familiar house you’ve come to many times as Eddie re-upped on his supply.
You take a deep breathe before you knock, a little uncomfortable given the fact that every time you did come with Eddie, Rick insisted on being flirty and a little handsy with you, but you were desperate for something to just ease your mind and relax you.
After three tentative knocks the door swings open.
“Y/n?” “Long time no see, what can I do for you?”
He looks around behind you, you think he’s probably looking for Eddie since you’ve never come here alone but you don’t give it a second thought.
You walk in and notice a couple guys sitting at the dining room table probably doing a quick deal too, you recognize them from school but they had long graduated before you. One of them catches your eye, you’ve definitely seen him around, he’s got long blonde curly hair, an Angel Witch band tee on, some dark blue jeans and high top adidas. Of course you’re fawning over another metal head “what the fuck is wrong with me?” You think to yourself. But before you give it anymore thought the man turns to you and says
“hey, aren’t you Eddie’s girl?”
You physically cringe at that.
“Um, n-no I’m not, w-we’re just friends”
“Really fucking smooth!” You internally scream at yourself.
He flashes you the most beautiful smile that makes your stomach flutter
“Oh! Good, good”
You’re kind of confused with that because, why is that good? But you don’t question it.
After Rick hands you your dime bag and you hand him the money you give a quick “thanks” as you turn around and walk out the door shutting it and walking down the drive way
when you get halfway down, you hear the door open and someone call your name.
“Hey, Y/n!”
You turn around to see that same beautiful smile that makes his eyes slant a bit, you swear this man could be Robert Plant and Dave mustaine’s love child “god was he gorgeous” you thought.
You raise your eyebrows as they disappear behind your bangs with a small wave and a side smile, could you be anymore awkward?
He puts his hand out and says “I’m Randy”
You already knew his name as he was three grades above you at Hawkins, but he’s definitely gotten a lot hotter after high school.
You smile and say “yeah we went to Hawkins together, but you were a senior when I was a freshman.”
He nods “yeah, yeah I know, just wasn’t sure if you did. So anyways, I was wondering if I could get your number and maybe we could hang out sometime?”
You return the wide smile as you try your best to stay calm and collected “y-yeah, that would be cool, but I don’t have a pen.” You say with slight disappointment
“Oh shit, um I think I have one in my car” He says as he turns around heading to the red Pontiac firebird, your jaw drops for a second because holy shit, his car is almost as sexy as him!
He turns around shaking the pen in his hand, like he’s just won some kind of prize, that makes you chuckle a bit.
He hands you the pen and his arm for you to scribble your number on, when you’re finished you give him a flirty little smirk as you say “I’ll talk to you later”
You turn around to start your way back home, but as you start he stops you again.
“Did you walk here?”
You nod
“Yeah, but it’s no big deal, I don’t live too far.”
He looks you up and down and then shakes his head “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.”
“You really don’t have to” you spit out
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to” he says while nodding his head over to his car silently telling you to get in.
You decide the best way to get over Eddie is by spending time with someone new, okay maybe not the most logical idea but anything’s better than being alone with your thoughts at the moment
and Randy seemed sweet and charming, possibly the perfect enough candidate to help you move on.
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It’s been two weeks and you’ve successfully avoided Eddie Munson at all costs. He’s called, he’s dropped by your house and you’ve had your mom consistently tell him you just haven’t been home much lately. Half of that is true.
You’ve been on three dates with Randy so far, and you really hit it off, he’s really sweet, and super funny but that little nagging in your brain keeps telling you “he’s not Eddie!” and “he’ll never be Eddie!” You can’t help it you’ve been in love with him for 3 and half years now, and you’re only human
but you think you can learn to fall for Randy and maybe even eventually those feelings will over shadow the ones you have for Eddie
only time will tell, but for now you just want to have fun.
So here you are getting ready for a party Randy had invited you to, it was a mutual friend of Randy and Ricks so you knew there was a strong possibility Eddie would also be there as he never turned down an opportunity to get some fast cash.
You decided you wanted to look hot, hotter than hot! So you threw on something you never had the balls to leave the house in, a long bell sleeved shirt that tied in the front exposing lots of skin, you paired it with a black pleated skirt and some black thigh high socks and some chunky ankle boots. You did your makeup natural but with some winged liner and lashes, you took your hair out of the curlers and shook your head upside down a couple times trying to elicit the most amount of body before spraying it with hairspray and finally spritzing yourself with some perfume.
You never went out of your way to get yourself this ready, but you loved it, made you feel kind of empowered in a way.
By the time you were fully finished getting ready you heard a knock at the door and since no one was home you rushed downstairs to answer it, but it was not who you were expecting.
“Y/N?!” Eddie said while looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face
“Eddie? What are you doing here?”
You asked wide eyed and with a slight annoyed edge to your voice
“You’ve been avoiding me!”
He says while pushing his way inside your house
“I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been busy”
A little lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Busy doing what?” He looks you up and down again
“I’ve been seeing someone, and we’ve been hanging out a lot recently, he’s actually on his way here right now, so you should probably go”
Eddie looks like a kicked puppy for a quick second but tries to fight it off before you can see by putting on a fake smile
“Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”
As soon as those words leave his mouth you hear a car pull up in your driveway, you know it’s Randy and you really wanted to avoid this whole interaction for a little bit longer, but it was no use now.
You ignore Eddie and decide to just let him see who it is for himself. Eddie knew who Randy was, they were acquaintance’s at best, but never enough to call each other friends, plus Randy was older and cooler than Eddie, or atleast that’s how Eddie felt.
So when he finally knocked on the door and you answered it, he stood there with flowers in hand looking at you all bug eyed, taking you all in with his mouth hanging open. Eddie let out a low scoff, almost low enough for you not to catch but you did.
If you would’ve let yourself you would’ve overthought that scoff until your head hurt
Because what the hell is his problem? he has no reason to feel any type of way about anyone you choose to talk to, after you’ve sat back and heard him talk about girl after girl, he had no right to say anything about Randy!
“Hey Eddie, what’s up?” Randy says
Eddie just tilts his head up slightly to give him a silent “what’s up” and then turns his attention back on you
But you turn around taking the flowers out of Randy’s hand and giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“These are beautiful, babe! Thank you”
Eddie visibly cringes at the pet name.
You didn’t see it but Randy definitely did, so just to rile him up a bit more Randy tells you
“You look fucking incredible, baby! Maybe we should just skip the party and go back to my place?”
He says with a joking edge to his voice. You and Randy have gone to second base but have not gone all the way yet and you were maybe hoping tonight would be the night
You really just wanted to get over Eddie and you thought by sleeping with Randy you’d have a better chance, so you and him have talked about it and even had phone sex a couple nights ago, so what he said wasn’t completely out of left field but it made you feel weird him saying it in front of Eddie, even though you literally walked in on Eddie and some girl fucking a couple weeks ago.
God you’ve done everything you can to get that image out of your head, just for it to be brought right back
“But I’m really excited for the party!” You say with your best doe eyes.
“Oh you guys are going to Eric’s party?” Eddie interrupts while standing there looking rather awkward
“Yeah we are, are you?” You ask
“Um, yeah I was gunna stop buy for an hour or so just to sell, make some quick cash, ya know?”
Eddie says while scratching the back of his neck
You nod.
“Well I guess we’ll see you there” Randy says trying to end the weird tension.
Eddie looks at you one last time with the same expression as earlier, almost like longing mixed with a hint of jealousy. But you’re a chronic over thinker and professional self doubter so that’s probably not it at all.
part 2
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bedsyandco · 4 months
Text
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 • 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
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❥ — ꒰ pairing ꒱ fem!reader x jack hughes
❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ part 2 of this fic!! in which you and Jack are in a fwb relationship and he takes you home to the lake house for the summer causing lines to be blurred
❥ — ꒰ content ꒱ nsfw? suggestive? kissing?
❥ — ꒰ note ꒱ you’ve been requesting this one for so long!! thank you for being patient!! I hope it was worth the wait!!
❥ — ꒰ word count ꒱ 1.6K
The first thing you notice when you wake up is blue. The blue of Jack’s eyes. It was the first thing you noticed when the two of you met as well. They were captivating. Maybe it’s the way they clearly reflect every little thought going through Jack’s head, the way you can clearly tell when he’s annoyed, or happy, or cocky. Or maybe it’s just because for the past few months you’ve been studying those eyes and you knew his expressions like the back of your hand now.
“Mornin’.” he says, his voice still thick with sleep, deep and raspy in a way that makes your thighs clench together.
“Morning,” you reply, sending him a little smile. Jack bends down to kiss your cheek, knowing how you feel about kissing before you’ve brushed your teeth.
“I could get used to this,” Jack says, running his hands through your messy hair and you blink sleepily up at him.
“Get used to what?” you ask.
“You. In my shirt, in my bed, in my house.” Jack replies, lifting the very shirt he was speaking of and running his hand up and down your back, his hand feeling warm on your skin.
You close your eyes again for a moment, trying to absorb and block out the words he was saying at the same time. You didn’t know if he knew what it did to your heart every time he said something like that. How it made your heart hope and yearn for a split second that this was real and not just the two of you fooling around. But that hope only lasted for a second before your brain caught up and reality sets in again.
“Don’t get used to it Hughes. It’s a rare occasion,” you say and he chuckles, kissing your neck before, standing up from the bed and tugging his sweats and shirt on.
“I’m gonna go downstairs, pretty sure mom already started with breakfast. Do your thing and meet me down there yeah?” Jack says, and you nod, letting out a little sigh as he leaves and closes the door behind him.
You take a few deep breaths, trying to prepare for the day ahead. This was what everyday felt like since you met Jack Hughes. Like it was a constant battle with yourself. Half of you fighting not to fall in love with him and the other half already there.
When you get downstairs you smile politely and greet Ellen and Quinn, The only other two people in the lake house that are awake right now. Your mind briefly wonders what they might think of you. What they might think about the fact that you slept in Jack’s bed last night. Or the hickey that’s visible on your neck, that you tried and failed miserably to hide with makeup only a few minutes ago. What they might think about the fact that the two of you are visibly more than friends but Jack very pointedly made sure to refer to you as his friend on multiple occasions.
“Are we taking the boat out today?” Jack asks Quinn as he sits next to you and Quinn nods in response.
Those thoughts only lasted for a few minutes before you remembered that you were likely never going to see these people again. You weren’t planning on continuing this arrangement with Jack until next summer and you very much doubted that you and Jack would end on good enough terms to keep in contact with each other, never mind his family.
Later that day you were sitting on the boat, soaking up the sun, the atmosphere filled with laughter and happiness as the guys took turns bullying each other about who’s better at wake surfing. You could certainly tell them who looked the hottest doing it, although your opinion might be a little biassed.
“Move Z,” Jack says as he gets back on the boat, drying himself off with a towel.
“What, why?” Trevor asks from beside you.
“Because that seat’s reserved.” Jack says, looking at him pointedly.
“For who?” Trevor asks confused and Jack scoffs annoyed
“Me, dumbass. Move,” Jack says again, throwing his friend with a towel and taking the now open seat next to you.
Jack’s hands go to your hips and he lifts you and pulls you closer, so you’re sitting sideways on his lap.
“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your neck.
“Yeah, why?” you ask, weaving your hand through his wet hair.
“I dunno. You just seem in your head today,” Jack replies, unable to help himself and moving his hand to cup your ass.
“I’m just hot,” you answer
“The hottest,” Jack says smirking at you as he squeezes your ass, and presses a kiss against your collarbone, dangerously close to your breasts.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say laughing a little and shoving his head away.
“Oh you mean the weather. Well I have a solution for that” Jack responds teasingly as if he didn’t know that’s what you meant this whole time.
He stands up with you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder and walks towards the back of the boat.
“Jack, stop, no!” you screech, hitting his back a few times while giggling. Trevor, Quinn and Luke all begin cheering him on, encouraging him to drop you in the water.
“You ready?” Jack asks teasingly
“No, absolutely not. Put me down,” you say, hitting his ass and he bites yours in retaliation.
“You can swim right baby?” he asks and you can hear the humour in his voice.
“Yes-”
“Okay. On three are you ready… One, two, three.” he says and adjusts you so you’re in front of him, griping you tightly to him as he jumps in.
The two of you separate when going down but he immediately pulls you closer again when you resurface.
“That wasn’t so bad right?” Jack asks as your hands lock around his neck.
“You jerk,” you scold him and he just grins at you.
“Your jerk,” he shoots back, connecting his lips to yours in a bruising kiss and biting your lower lip as he pulls away.
And all that ran through your mind when he said that was that he isn’t yours. Not really. Not forever. Not in the way you want him to be yours.
“Hey lovebirds, get back on the boat before we leave you here,” Quinn yells and you make your way back on the boat.
Later that night you were laying in Jack’s bed again, trying to focus on the movie playing on his TV but it was proving to be a bit difficult when Jack couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“You liking the lake house?” Jack asks, his hand tracing patterns on your stomach.
“Yeah, it’s been fun. I really like your family and your friends. I can see why you grew up to be the person you are, growing up with influences and relationships like these,” you say and Jack smiles in response, kissing you softly.
“Think you’d wanna come back next year?” Jack asks and your breath hitches, meeting those blue eyes.
“Probably not. I’m not sure it was the best idea to come here this year,” you say and Jack immediately frowns, his hand stilling on your stomach, just resting there.
“But you just said you’re having fun. I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?“ Jack asks, removing his hands from you completely and sitting up and you follow suit.
“No Jack-“
“Then why?” he asks and you can hear the hurt in his tone.
“Because you’re making it hard for me not to fall in love with you. And I’ve been trying really hard to not let all these little things you’ve been doing get to my head and it’s getting harder and harder to convince myself that you don’t feel the same way, You made it clear from the start that you’re not a relationship guy and I don’t wanna make this hurt more than it’s already going to” you say, your tone vulnerable and Jack’s eyes soften as he grabs both your hands in his.
“What if I do feel the same way?” Jack asks
“Don’t humour me. It’s cruel,” you say and he takes your hand, placing it on his chest, right over his heart.
“I’m being serious. I’m not a relationship guy because I’ve never met anyone I’ve wanted to be a relationship guy for. Until you,” Jack says, and you swallow thickly.
“I’m probably gonna suck at it, and a month or two in you’re probably gonna realise you deserve better. I just want the chance to try, if you’ll let me,” Jack says and you connect your lips to his, not wanting to hear him say anything else negative about himself.
You had no doubt that Jack would be the perfect partner if he was really committed to it. Because if there’s anything you’ve learned about him in these last few months…it’s that once Jack is determined to do something, nothing will stop him.
And the only thing you realised a month into dating him, is that you’re hopelessly in love with him and that loves never stops growing.
Your next summer, and many summers after that were all spent there, right where it started.
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topguncortez · 5 months
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I Still Love You - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey
opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist
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synopsis: Y/N goes out on her first date in. . . in a while. She struggles with her feelings as if it is time to start moving on, or if she wants to fight for things with Jake.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mentions of cheating
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Y/N didn’t know what she was doing. 
She couldn’t remember the last time she went on date. Things had changed a lot since she was active in the dating pool. Dates were no longer big events where you shaved every crevice of your body, went out and bought a new dress, spent hours doing your hair and make-up, where picked up at your house and greeted with flowers and taken to some fancy restaurant across town. No, dating now was going to a local bar for a drink or two with some guy you had matched with on some dating app. 
Y/N felt her hands shake as she looked over her shoulder as the bell above the door rang. She was extremely early to her drink date, a whole half hour early to be exact. But the nerves had gotten the better of her, and she didn’t want to show up late. Now she sat looking completely out of place in this swanky bar on the east side of San Diego. It was far enough away that she knew it would be safe from anyone she knew catching glimpse of her. 
It wasn’t that she felt guilty about being on date. . . well, she felt a little bit guilty. Jake hadn’t signed the divorce papers yet, but they were making way with setting up visitation days. Y/N was currently living in the house while Jake was staying in an on-base house. Y/N hadn’t even thought of getting out into the dating field, wanting to wait until the divorce was completely over, but Val had set her up with one of her co-workers and Y/N didn’t have the heart to say no. Who knows, maybe she was going to meet her second husband. 
A small huff left her lips at even the thought of marrying another man. Having another man raise her kids. Having another man in her bed. Jake had been the one for her, and he’d always be the one for her, even if he broke her heart. She could entertain the notion of getting drinks with someone, but it wasn’t going to go much farther than this. 
“Y/N?” A masculine voice called out to her. She lifted her head, “I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you.” 
Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile, reaching her hand out to greet him, “Nice to meet you, Miles.” 
He was clad in a black dress pants and baby blue button up. The top buttons were undone, showing the faintest gold chain around his thick neck. He sat down on the barstool next to you, his scent of oranges and hospital drifting to you, making your nose scrunch. You hated oranges and the thick smell of hospital disinfectant. 
“Sorry I’m late, got held up at the hospital,” Miles said. 
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows looking at her watch. It was 7:01 and they agreed to meet at the bar at 7:00, “A minute late is hardly late.” 
“In my book. . . it is,” He smiled, flagging down the waiter to order himself a drink and some appitizers, “I don’t like showing up on time, it feels like I’m late.” 
“I’m the same way. I like to be atleast 10 minutes early to everything,” Y/N sighed, “But having kids, I’m lucky if I’m even 5 minutes early.” 
“Val told me about your children,” Miles said, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered, “Three of them right?” 
Y/N nodded her head, reaching for her phone. Her favorite thing about being a mom is getting to show off pictures of her kids. She showed Miles pictures of Alex when he first got his glasses, Ella winning her first soccer game, when Eli rolled over for the first time. Miles smiled along with her the whole time, asking questions about her kids; what they liked to do, what their favorite colors are, what their favorite bed time stories are. 
“They look like they are some fun people,” Miles said, sipping his drink. 
Y/N wasn’t sure what it was that snapped in her, but she suddenly felt embarrassed. Was she talking too muc about her kids? Did this guy even want kids? It wasn’t just her he would be getting if they ever decided to go past this one date, it was her and three kids. Three kids that had cried when their father moved his things out the door. Three kids that had been fighting and acting out more since the divorce process had started. Three kids that were waiting for her to come home. 
“Hey?” Miles asked softly, putting his hand on her knee, “Did I lose ya?” 
Y/N blinked a couple of times, plastering a fake smile on her face, “No,” She shook her head, “It’s just I-” 
“Thinking about your kids?” Y/N nodded and Miles set his glass down on the bar, “Val told me this is your first time out since your divorce. . . It’s my first time out since my wife died and I. . .” Miles shook his head, “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong, meeting you here.” 
Y/N’s heart broke a bit in her chest, seeing his sad brown eyes look at her. Val had mentioned that he was previously married, but she never disclosed the details on what happened. She shifted on her barstool, placing her hand on top of Miles’ giving it a squeeze. 
“This doesn’t have to go very far tonight. . . If anything, I’m not ready to go very far tonight,” Y/N spoke honestly, “I’m still hurt and dealing with everything, but I could really use a friend?” 
Miles nodded his head, turning his hand in Y/N’s so their fingers were intertwined, he squeezed her hand back, “I can use a friend too.” 
The two of them stayed in the bar for only another hour, before going to find something to eat on the east side. Miles had picked out a local seafood place that he swore had the best fish tacos. The conversation flowed easily as they ate. They talked about everything under the sun; what he did for work at the hospital, Y/N’s plan to go back to work at the flower shop in a couple weeks, Miles’ most recent travel to Switzerland for a pediatric board conference, how Y/N finally got to visit the USS Midway museum. It truly did feel like Miles was the perfect friend for Y/N. He understood what it was like to lose someone you love, only difference was Jake wasn’t dead. 
“I should really get back,” Y/N sighed as they walked down the sidewalk to where she parked her car, “I gotta trade off with the kids’ dad, he works early in the morning.” 
“Don’t gotta explain anything to me,” Miles shrugged. He had been totally respectful when Y/N talked about everything with Jake. She didn’t go into full detail about it, mainly because the wounds were still so fresh. She still felt a pang in her heart when she walked through the front door and his boots weren’t there. 
“I think we should do this again, I really enjoyed getting to be with another adult,” Y/N smiled and Miles returned it. 
“I would love to,” Miles responded and opened Y/N’s car door, “Let me know when you get home, please.” Y/N nodded her head, “Good night, Y/N.” 
“Goodnight, Miles,” She whispered as she shut the door. 
The whole drive home it felt like Y/N was in a cloud. Her feelings were a bit conflicted on what she felt towards Miles. He was a good guy, with a nice smile. He had a sense of humor and had made her laugh several times throughout the night. Y/N could tell he had manners from the times he pulled out her chair and switched sides on the sidewalk so he was near the street. But all those little things were also things that Jake had done. Jake always sat so he was facing the door, or in the isle. Jake always opened the door and walked next to the street. Jake always knew how to make Y/N laugh. 
Y/N had just pulled into her driveway, Jake’s black truck parked in it’s normal spot when her phone dinged. 
‘Valeria Bates: how was it!? Did you kiss!? Did you do more than kiss!?’ 
Y/N’s face paled. Was she supposed to kiss him? They had agreed to just be friends, for now, but what was supposed to happen on the next date? Y/N hadn’t ever kissed another man besides Jake. And she sure as hell hadn’t slept with another man. Even though Miles was attractive, the thought of him touching her the way Jake had made her feel queasy. She didn’t respond to Val, tucking her phone in her purse and heading towards the front door. 
Quietly, she pushed the door open, coming face to face with Jake sitting alone on the couch, only the light of the television illuminating his face. When Y/N first asked Jake if he could watch the kids tonight, she hadn’t felt bad about it, but now, seeing him sitting there alone, she felt nothing but guilt. 
“How was it?” Jake asked. 
Y/N sighed as she took off her coat and hung it up, “It was good.” 
Jake nodded his head and stood up from the couch, “Will there be another one?” 
“Too soon to say,” Y/N mumbled and turned to face Jake, “How were the kids?” 
“They were fine. Eli was a bit fussy but he’s got some teeth coming in,” Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets and Y/N nodded. 
“Well, You should probably get-” 
“Don’t go on another date,” Jake said, cutting Y/N off, “Look, I know I fucked up. I know what I did is something that is unforgivable, and I beat myself up for it every day, but please. . . Please. . .” He walked towards her, and grabbed her hand in his, “Please.” 
Y/N wasn’t sure what to do, as he stood before her, his green eyes with a tint of red to them. 
“Goodnight, Jake,” Y/N muttered, squeezing his hand before moving towards the stairs to go check on the kids. 
“I love you,” Jake whispered as Y/N’s frame disappeared down the hallway.
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taglist: @damrlova @phoenix1388 @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @angelbabyange @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignartemis @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @malindacath @justenoughmadness @sagittarius-flowerchild @hardballoonlove @harrysgothicbitch @hookslove1592
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tigertales9 · 8 months
Text
Hard Reset
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings: 18+ / Smut
Description: The first game of the 2023 season didn't go well. This fic covers the aftermath with a quick flashback to the game.
Time/Place: Monday, Sep. 11, 2023 (the day after the week 1 loss to Cleveland) / Cincinnati, Ohio
Edit: Explanation is here
Here's the follow-up - Hard Reset II
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You wake up slowly, stretching and yawning before turning your head to look at Joe; he's still asleep, his lips slightly parted and his messy hair fanned out against his pillow. You ease out of bed -- careful not to wake him -- and walk into the bathroom, quickly peeing and washing your face before heading downstairs to make coffee.
You roll your shoulders and stretch a bit while you wait for the coffee to be done. Your entire body feels a little sore from literally tensing most of your muscles throughout yesterday's game in Cleveland. Between the awful weather, the lackluster offense, and Joe looking like he was one wrong move away from getting hurt, the game had been a miserable experience.
You pour a cup of coffee and add a splash of salted caramel creamer before taking a seat at the kitchen island, your mind rewinding back to yesterday.
~ ~ ~
You'd been anxious well before kick-off, worried that the team was rushing Joe back before his calf injury was fully healed. The steady rain had kicked your anxiety into overdrive, you and Joe's mom exchanging worried looks while his dad tried to remain stoic. It became obvious fairly quickly that Joe was hampered by the calf, not really rolling out or scrambling as well as usual. Every hit he took, every time he slipped on the wet turf, your heart jumped into your throat. The fact that he got out of Cleveland without getting anything but his ego hurt seemed like a damn miracle.
And his ego was definitely hurt, you think to yourself, remembering the look on his face when he got home late Sunday night after the game. You'd been home long enough to shower and change clothes before he came in; you hurried to hug him as soon as he walked through the door, pressing your face against his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
"You okay?" you asked. "I'm fine," he grumbled, "and I really don't wanna talk about it," he continued, dropping a kiss on your forehead to soften his words. You leaned back and looked up into his face. "You hungry?" you asked, biting your lip when he shook his head no. "Can we just go to bed?" he asked, giving you a tired smile as you took his hand and led him toward the stairs.
~ ~ ~
The sound of Joe ambling down the stairs snaps you back to the present (Monday morning); you spin your barstool toward him and give him a smile, taking in his wild hair and grumpy expression.
"Good morning, sunshine," you chuckle. "Morning," he mutters, dropping a quick kiss on your lips before heading to the fridge to grab the orange juice. You zero in on his gait, trying hard to decide if he's limping or just doing his usual long-legged, loose-hipped stride.
"Calf feels fine, babe," he states, throwing you a knowing look over his shoulder.
"How did you know I was looking at your calf?" you scoff. "Your back was to me."
He takes a sip of his juice before answering. "Were you looking at my calf?"
"Maybe," you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully when he gives you a smug grin. "So it feels good?"
"It feels … fine," he answers, giving you a 'don't go there' look.
You really want to 'go there' but decide not to. "You want some breakfast?"
"Yeah, I'm starving," he groans, sitting beside you at the island while you list possible breakfast items.
"How does an omelet sound? And maybe some avocado toast?"
"Yes and yes," he chirps, his demeanor perking up at the thought of yummy food.
About forty minutes later you watch him finish the last bite on his plate. "That was delicious," he moans, giving you a smile while rubbing his stomach. "Wish I could go straight back to bed for a nap," he sighs. "I didn't sleep worth a shit last night, but I need to get to the facility."
"Too bad you have to go on your day off," you mumble, cutting the last bite of your avocado toast in half and handing him a portion.
"Yeah." He pops the tasty morsel in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before giving you a shrug. "But you know how it is. Gotta get treatment -- maybe watch a little film while I'm there -- then I can come home and take a nap."
You nod your head before responding. "Anybody coming over to watch the Bills & Jets game tonight?"
"No. I don't feel like having anybody over." He stands up and grabs both of your plates. "Guess it'll just be you and me," he continues, quickly rinsing the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher.
He walks to the stove to grab the skillet and you shoo him away. "I'll take care of that," you state, standing on your tiptoes to give him a kiss before he turns and heads for the stairs; you watch him carefully as he walks away from you, giving him a bland smile when he shoots you a look over his shoulder. "I was looking at your ass not your calf," you lie, smiling at the sound of his laughter as he disappears upstairs.
~ ~ ~
Several hours later after a shared nap and a 'cheat day' pizza dinner, y'all are snuggled on the sofa watching the lead-up to Monday Night Football.
"Think it's gonna be a good game," you ask, smiling at his inelegant snort. "Who knows," he sighs. "I just hope both teams put on a better show than we did yesterday. We sucked ass, especially me."
"You were playing in shitty weather after missing damn near all of training camp," you grumble. "Give yourself a break, okay?"
He turns his head and locks eyes with you. "I just signed a 275 million dollar contract. There are no 'breaks' when that kind of money has been handed to you."
"You earned every penny of that and then some," you retort. "This franchise has gone from being an absolute joke to a top contender because of you." You take a deep breath before plowing ahead. "What you've accomplished in just two full seasons is mind-blowing and …"
"Babe?" he interrupts.
"What?"
"None of that changes the fact that I sucked ass yesterday."
"But you weren't 100%."
"Tough shit. I've never made excuses and I refuse to start now."
You stare at each other for several heartbeats before you break the silence. "You're right. Sorry."
"No need to apologize."
You give him a smile. "Didn't mean to get my panties in a wad over it."
"Need some help with that?" he chuckles, sliding a hand up your thigh, laughing even harder when you playfully slap it away. "Easy there, horndog. You're about to miss Mr. Rodgers running out waving the flag." You point at the TV and Joe turns his head to watch. "This is some high-octane drama," he murmurs, shaking his head as y'all watch the remainder of the pre-game festivities in silence.
A little while later you head to the kitchen to grab some water. "That pizza was salty as hell," you mutter, guzzling most of your glass before refilling it, almost dropping it when you hear Joe holler.
"Oh shit!"
"What is it?" you chirp, setting your glass on the kitchen counter and hurrying back to Joe, your gaze locking on the TV as the replay rolls.
"Aaron went down really awkward," Joe mutters, standing up off the sofa to walk closer to the TV. "Looked like his cleat got stuck in the turf." You walk up beside him and watch the replay again, now in super slow-mo. "Jesus, it's his fucking Achilles," Joe whispers, running a hand through his hair in agitation as he watches the trainers help Aaron off the field.
"He's putting some weight on it," you offer hopefully. "Maybe it's not that bad."
"It's bad," he mumbles, pulling his phone out and doing a quick search. "Fuck," he breathes, shaking his head as he watches something, rewinding it a few times.
"What are you watching?"
"A man's Achilles tendon snap like a brittle rubber band."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Don't look too close at that replay or you'll see it too." His eyebrows slowly creep up when his phone starts blowing up with texts. He bites his lip while looking at the display.
"Who's texting you?"
"Just some teammates … and my parents."
"You're not gonna answer them?"
"No, because I know exactly what they're gonna say."
"What?"
He takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling for a minute before locking eyes with you. "Aaron had a calf strain like mine back during OTAs. Folks are gonna say that his Achilles injury is proof I shouldn't be playing until my calf is 100% healed."
"Was his calf strain on the same leg as the Achilles injury?"
"No, but overcompensating and favoring one leg over the other can result in an injury to the good leg."
"So it sounds like you shouldn't be playing until your calf is fully healed, right? Or you risk either making the calf injury worse or sustaining an overcompensation injury."
"No," he shakes his head in annoyance. "Aaron is older than me and has had calf issues his entire career. Plus, his cleat got stuck in the fucking turf. It's bad luck not an overcompensation injury."
His phone rings and he stares at it for a second before ignoring it.
"Who's that?"
"Mom." He makes a 'don't go there' face when you open your mouth to say something; you glare at him for several heartbeats before you're startled by your own phone ringing. You quickly check the display as Joe speaks up. "If that's my mom don't answer it."
"Hey Robin," you say, turning your back on Joe when he rolls his eyes. "I'm not talking to her," he says loudly, his expression totally belligerent when you spin around and lock eyes with him. "Well, I am!" you snap. "And I know you're not gonna tell me who I can and can't talk to!"
He's smart enough to keep his mouth shut as you continue your conversation with his mom. "Yeah, it's super concerning since it's the same injury Joe has. Something about overcompensating a calf strain makes you really vulnerable to an Achilles injury." Joe makes a snorting noise and you cut your eyes at him while continuing. "Well, he's a hard-headed, stubborn asshole when it comes to stuff like this, so no way he's gonna listen to us about it."
"Damn right," he mutters, ignoring your warning look while picking at his thumbnail.
"Okay, I'll tell him," you sigh, ending the call and hitting Joe with an exasperated look. "Your mom would like to talk to you when you feel like it."
"It's not gonna be tonight," he states. "And it may not be for a while since I don't feel like hearing a bunch of crap about why I shouldn't be playing."
"She's just worried about you, Joe. We all are."
"That's nice, but I don't wanna talk about it with anybody right now." You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off. "That includes you."
You heave a sigh and lick your lips before responding. "But …"
"Drop it!" he snaps, immediately grimacing when he sees the look on your face. "Fine," you whisper, brushing his hand off your arm as he reaches out to touch you. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that," he mumbles, following you as you turn and head toward the kitchen; halfway there you hear his phone ring, your eyes going wide when he answers it.
"Hey Coach," he mutters, turning back toward the living room as you continue into the kitchen.
"Of course he answers Coach's call," you grumble, stopping just out of sight to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Yeah, I saw it," Joe says. "Looked like his cleat got caught in the turf. It's def a ruptured Achilles." He listens for a minute before speaking back up. "As far as I'm concerned this changes nothing for me. I intend to play Sunday as long as I don't have any setbacks between now and then."
You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding and walk farther into the kitchen, grabbing your water glass to refill it before setting it back down. "Fuck it," you mumble, reaching into a cabinet for a wine glass before pulling a bottle of rosé out of the fridge; you pour a large serving and take a couple of sips before heading toward the stairs, rolling your eyes when you hear Joe talking about some offensive scheme with Coach Taylor.
Fifteen minutes later you're chin deep in a bubble bath, the only light in the bathroom coming from several candles; you take a sip of cold wine and hold it on your tongue for a bit before swallowing, your pulse picking up when you hear a soft knock at the door.
"Can I come in?" Joe calls.
"Yeah," you answer, setting your glass on the tub ledge as he opens the door and slowly approaches you; he drops to his knees beside the oversized tub and blinks a few times as his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," he states. "I'm under a lot of pressure, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
You take in his earnest expression, struck speechless for a few seconds at how achingly beautiful his face is in the flickering candlelight. "I understand," you finally concede. "I just wish you'd talk to me about it instead of shutting me down."
"There's nothing to talk about because my mind's made up. If practice goes well this week -- and I receive clearance to play -- I'm taking the field this Sunday. I'm sorry if that makes you mad."
"I'm not mad. I'm scared," you whisper, blinking your eyes rapidly to try and keep tears from falling.
He bites his bottom lip and leans in closer. "Babe, I'm not gonna lie and say there's nothing to be scared of because you never know what's gonna happen in this sport. Here's the thing though." He runs a hand through his hair before continuing. "I could bubble-wrap my entire body and sit out until I feel 100% healthy," he shrugs, "but the second I step back on the field I'm at risk just like every other player. Instead of a calf it might be another blown-out knee, cracked ribs, a bad concussion …"
"You're making me feel a lot better, thanks," you butt in, grabbing your wine glass and taking a hearty gulp.
"My point is … guys get hurt every week. You can't play scared, though, or you might as well just go ahead and hang 'em up." He takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly. "You went through my knee rehab with me so you know it was hell. But we came out the other side stronger than ever. If, God forbid, something like that happens again, I know we'll get through it, okay?"
"I guess it has to be okay," you sigh. "I mean this is your job. It's violent as hell, and it may get you permanently maimed or worse one of these days, but unfortunately you're really good at it."
He gives a snort of laughter while shaking his head. "Unfortunately?"
"That was a little harsh," you admit, watching as he stands up and strips his clothes off.
"Scoot forward," he orders, stepping into the tub behind you as you do his bidding; he eases into the warm, frothy water, his long legs stretching out on either side of you as he pulls you back against him, your back to his chest.
Once he's settled he digs his fingers into your shoulder muscles, working out the tension as you give an appreciative moan. "That feels good," you whisper, your toes curling as he moves to your neck muscles, taking his time to give you a thorough neck and shoulder massage before dipping his hands below the water surface to rest on your thighs. "How did you know my thighs are sore?" you sigh, your eyes sliding closed in pleasure as his big hands knead your sore thigh muscles.
"Because I'm guessing you were so tense at the game yesterday you could've cracked a walnut with your buttcheeks."
"You have a way with words," you giggle, taking a sip of wine before setting the glass on the tub ledge and relaxing back against him. He continues to massage your thighs for several minutes, his right hand edging closer to your crotch before he finally ghosts his fingertips over your folds; your body reacts instantly but your mind refuses to play along. You wait a minute to see if you can get in the mood before dropping a hand down and gently moving his hand back onto your thigh. "I'm not in the right headspace for that," you murmur. "My body's saying yes but my mind's saying no."
"It's okay," he soothes, pressing a kiss on your neck. "I just thought some endorphins might help you relax."
"Absolutely would if I could shut my damn brain off for a few minutes." A thought hits you. "If you want me to get you off I'll be happy to."
"I'm not really in the right headspace, either."
Y'all fall silent for a bit before he speaks back up. "Since we're both tired as hell why don't we get in bed, put something boring on TV and hope it lulls us to sleep."
"Sounds good," you sigh, easing out of the tub and drying off before brushing your teeth; you step into a pair of panties as Joe blows out the candles, a smile gracing your lips at the comforting feel of his hand on the small of your back as he follows you into the bedroom.
~ ~ ~
The next morning (Tuesday) you're in the kitchen making breakfast burritos when Joe comes down the stairs already dressed for the day.
"Smells delicious," he says, watching you roll up two fat burritos before setting them on a hot griddle to get toasty. "What's in 'em?"
"Eggs, spicy turkey sausage, onion, red bell pepper, poblano, jalapeno, and some chipotle salsa."
"Yum," he groans, grabbing a couple of plates as you flip the burritos, smiling down at you as y'all wait for the second side to get golden.
"Did you sleep okay? he asks, dropping a kiss on your lips. "Not really. Check out these dark circles," you grimace, pointing at your face. "Your barely-there dark circles ain't got nothing on this huge zit," he grumps, pointing at a miniscule dot on his chin. You squint your eyes and lean in close. "Boy please," you scoff. "It doesn't count if you need a magnifying glass to see it."
"It's not nice to talk about Travis Kelce's dick like that, babe," he deadpans, both of you cackling like hyenas for a bit before settling down.
Y'all eventually sit down at the table and exchange small talk over breakfast, mostly about your plans for the day:
his plans = work-out, treatment, film session
your plans = work-out, virtual meeting for work, errands
Once breakfast is done you slide the last dish into the dishwasher just as Joe's phone rings; he checks the display before giving you a look. "It's Josh," he says.
"Josh Allen?"
"Yeah, I texted him earlier. He looked like he was going through it in his post-game presser last night."
You nod in agreement, loving the fact that a lot of the young NFL QBs reach out to each other to lend support. They're rivals on the field but off of it they're a very elite brotherhood. Nobody understands the pressure on a QB1 except for another QB1.
You finish wiping down the counters and tune into the conversation.
"Yeah, bro, I know it sucks," Joe states, "but even the best-of-the-best shit the bed every now and then. You just gotta flush it down and move on." He catches your eye for a second before continuing. "Listen, you're being too hard on yourself. The worst thing you can do is dwell on it. Keep your head up and unleash hell next week."
You give him a smile as he ends the call. "Is he okay?"
Joe shrugs. "He's really beating himself up about the four turnovers he had."
"You gave him some great advice. Actually, you're giving him a lot more grace than you give yourself."
"He needs it more than I do," Joe boasts.
"Hardass," you scold, giving him a playful grin.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he smirks, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips before heading for the door. "Have a good day," he calls over his shoulder, giving you a wink before disappearing into the garage.
A few hours later you stagger into the house carrying four heavy bags of groceries. "Should've made two trips," you chuckle, heaving the bags onto the kitchen counter with a sigh of relief. You eventually get everything put away, yawning a couple of times in the process. "I could really use a nap," you mutter, checking your watch. "Plenty of time," you smile, heading upstairs and stripping down to your undies before falling into bed.
An hour and a half later you come awake abruptly, your body so close to climax that you can't believe you don't fall over the edge. "Shit," you whisper, still groggy from sleep as you cup a hand over your throbbing crotch. You consider finishing yourself off but decide to wait for Joe to get home.
You take several deep breaths as you remember the reason for your hyper-aroused state -- an erotic dream about your man. "So hot," you mumble, easing out of bed and checking the clock, noting that Joe should be home soon. You walk into your closet and grab a couple of items, deciding to recreate the outfit from your dream.
You pull on a tight white t-shirt -- no bra -- before adding a black flouncy skirt so short it barely covers your buttcheeks. "Not bad," you whisper, checking your reflection in the mirror while fluffing your hair. "Oh yeah, almost forgot" you breathe, reaching under your skirt to slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you turn and head for the door.
You're halfway down the hallway to Joe's office when you hear the garage door open; your entire body immediately reacts, every single pleasure point throbbing in anticipation. You hurry into his office as you hear him coming up the stairs. "I'm in your office," you call loudly, "and I hope you're ready for this," you add under your breath.
"Hey," he says as he strides into the room, the big grin on his face morphing into a look of surprise and then lust as he gives you a slow once-over, his gaze coming to rest on your hard nipples plainly visible through your thin shirt.
You immediately notice his haircut but are too far gone to mention it. "I took a nap earlier and had a dream about you," you admit, closing the distance between you and rising up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Must have been a good one," he says, deepening the kiss while cupping his big hands over your breasts, teasing your sensitive nubs through your shirt; he pinches them just hard enough to make you gasp, and you press your thighs together at the gush of liquid heat in your core. He reads your body language and drops a hand down, sliding it under your short skirt before slowing inching it up your inner thigh, making a sound that's part groan/part growl when he realizes you're not wearing panties.
"Damn, babe," he hisses, pulling back to look down at you as he plays with your slick folds. "So wet for me." He slides a long finger inside you, both of you moaning when your walls clench hard around it.
"We gotta slow down or I'm gonna cum," you whimper. "Is that a bad thing?" he asks, latching his pretty mouth onto your neck while pumping his finger inside you. "I wanna do it just like in my dream," you pant, taking a couple of steps back to try and get yourself under control; you watch him suck his wet finger into his mouth, the look on his face causing your core to react.
"What do you need?" he asks. "Get naked," you order, taking your own clothes off while he does your bidding; you walk toward his desk, spinning his large, black leather desk chair to face you before pointing at it. "Sit," you urge, watching closely as he follows orders, his long legs falling open in his usual manspread.
You drop to your knees between his thick thighs, your mouth immediately on his hard cock as he buries both hands in your hair, his throaty groans going directly to your clit as you work him in all his favorite ways.
Shit, gotta fast-forward, you think to yourself. You'd teased him more in your dream, but you're literally about to bust so you quickly stand up and crawl into his lap, gasping when he grabs your waist and lifts you onto the desk. "This wasn't in the dream," you whisper, laying back against the desk as he grabs your ankles and places your feet on either side of him on the arms of the chair. "Just let me have a quick taste," he purrs, waiting for your approval before lowering his head.
You run your hands over his fresh fade haircut, relishing the velvet-like feel as he licks your wet slit a few times before sliding his tongue inside. "Oh my God," you moan, fisting a hand in his hair as he continues to tongue-fuck you, grateful that he left enough hair on top of his head to get a nice handful.
Even though he's strategically avoiding your clit, you quickly feel that delicious tension building inside you. "That feels so good but you gotta stop," you whine. "Why?" he asks. "Because I wanna cum on your cock," you say matter-of-factly.
The words barely leave your mouth before you find yourself lifted off the desk and straddling his lap, your head spinning a little as he makes sure you're settled before he drops a hand down to his erection, dragging it through your drenched folds a few times to gather moisture before pushing inside. It's been a few days and you bite your lip at the way he fills you up, inch by inch, the delicious stretch making your eyes water and raising chill bumps on your skin.
"So good," you whisper once he's fully seated, holding yourself still for several heartbeats to adjust to his thick length. Your gaze is drawn to your juices glistening on his lips, and you can't resist leaning forward and slowly licking them before sucking his plump bottom lip into your mouth. His cock twitching deep inside you spurs you into action, and within a few seconds you're riding him hard
"Don't touch my clit yet," you whimper, digging your fingers into his muscular shoulders as you hit the perfect pace. "Yes, ma'am." He runs his hands up and down your thighs before resting them on your ass. "Did I talk dirty to you in your dream?" he grits out, his big hands squeezing your plump ass as you bounce on his cock. "Y … yeah," you pant. "Thank fuck," he groans, his gaze resting on your bouncing breasts for several seconds before he locks eyes with you and starts talking, the filthy praise spilling from his pretty lips arousing your body like a physical touch.
"I'm so close," you gasp. "Want me to finish you?" he asks, moving a hand to your clit as soon as you give him a breathy, "yeah." It takes one stroke of his thumb on your super-sensitive nub before you come apart, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the intense climax hits; he hisses in pleasure at the feel of your core rhythmically clenching his thrusting cock, lasting only a few more seconds before he buries himself deep and cums inside you, licking your sweaty neck before sucking hard enough to leave a love bite.
You pant against his shoulder for a few minutes, eventually lifting your head up before quickly dropping it back down. "Damn, I'm dizzy," you mutter, grinning when Joe mumbles "me too" against your neck.
After taking a little more time to come to your senses, you lean back and look at Joe, running a hand over his fade while giving him a grin. "I had a feeling you'd lose the hair before week two."
"Needed a fresh start," he states, returning your grin. "A hard reset."
"Ohhh, 'hard reset' sounds kinda hot," you giggle, hitting a Kegel on his still-softening erection.
His breath catches in his throat and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. "If I knew a haircut was gonna make you go beast mode on me, I would've cut that shit a lot sooner."
"I love the cut, but I was already horny as hell when you got home."
"You need to have naughty dreams about me more often," he teases, "except don't rush me through the pussy-eating part next time."
"Did you feel deprived?"
"A little," he pouts. "You know I love to get you off with my tongue. Plus, it would be nice to be reminded that I'm really good at something since I've clearly forgotten how to throw a damn football."
"Joseph!" you scold, opening your mouth to further admonish him.
"I'm kidding," he chuckles. "Don't get your panties in a wad."
You roll your eyes at him before looking down at your still-joined bodies. "Good thing this chair is leather instead of fabric."
"Why?"
"Because your lethal hotness caused me to unleash a pussy juice tsunami."
"You have a way with words," he laughs. "Let's go get a quick shower," he continues. "I'll clean the chair up later."
Twenty minutes later y'all are lounging on the bed, him flat on his back and you on your side facing him, exchanging small talk while the ceiling fan cools down your naked bodies.
"How did treatment go today?" you ask.
"Fine," he answers vaguely. "And my work-out went good."
You're dying to ask how his calf feels but you hold your tongue, opting instead for something positive. "I'm making your fav dinner tonight."
"Yeah? Which one? You make like a hundred things that are my favs."
"It's a surprise," you tease. "Why don't you try and get a nap while I go get dinner started. I'll wake you up when it's ready."
"Okay," he agrees. "If I can't sleep I'll just watch some film."
"Of course you will," you chuckle, pressing a kiss on his chest before pushing up into a sitting position. You take a deep breath and lock eyes with him. "I need you to promise me something."
"What?"
"If your calf tightens up during the game this Sunday, promise me you'll tell the trainers and team doctor, okay? Let them decide if it's safe for you to keep playing."
"Sure," he says, a little too casually for your liking.
You lean down until your face is inches from his. "Listen, I know you're tough enough to play with pain, but as the leader of this team you have an obligation to do what's best for the franchise. If you go down with a season-ending injury like Aaron's, this team is dead in the water. You owe it to them to be honest about your condition."
"Damn, woman, going for the jugular," he laughs, reaching a hand up to brush your hair off of your face. "How about this … if it tightens up more than normal, I promise I'll say something."
You search his face for several seconds before leaning down to give him a kiss. "Thanks," you breathe against his lips, squealing in surprise when he quickly flips you onto your back and crawls on top of you, careful not to crush you with his entire weight. He lowers his head and nips your earlobe before whispering in your ear.
"I gave you a promise … now what are you gonna give me?" he purrs, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.
"Ummm, your fav dinner?" you whisper, your pulse rate kicking into overdrive at the look on his face.
"Later." He holds eye contact with you while kissing his way down your body before settling between your spread legs. "I'm gonna have my fav dessert first," he states, giving your clit a vigorous suck before sliding his tongue inside you, his groan of approval tickling your sensitive skin as you bury a hand in his hair and arch up against him.
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golbrocklovely · 1 year
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privacy please // colby brock
A/N: me, posting more than once a month??? INCREDIBLE. i was midway thru writing "let's fall in love for tonight" when this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it down. part of this is inspired by a tiktok i saw of a girl talking about a time she was hooking up with a guy. i wish i could find the tiktok and share it with you all bc the moment she said what she said.... i just knew i had to include it in a fic at some point lol so shoutout to that girl. this is a short fic/blurb bc i have some other fics lined up that are gonna be full blown smut so i don't want to tucker myself out writing smut only. and if you see me using what happens in this fic in other fics.... say nothing sksks lmk what you think and i'll see you guys next time <3
prompt: you and colby just want some privacy, but the only place you can get it is in his car. || fem!reader x colby brock
trigger warning: light smut (no actual sex), cursing, making out in a car, fluff, already established relationship
word count: 1363
~~~~~~~~
"This is so ridiculous." Colby groaned, pulling away from our kiss.
I giggled, staring up at his annoyed face. "No it's not, it's kinda fun."
"How is this fun? I feel like I'm gonna pull a hamstring." He scoffed.
I sassed him, rolling my eyes. "Well, it's your fault you don't have a car big enough for your five foot eleven ass."
"I don't think I was meant to lay out horizontally in my car." He replied back, just as snarky.
"Well, blame Toyota," I sat up on my elbows, huffing. Does he think I'm comfortable in this cramped back seat? "Or better yet, Sam and Kat for wanting to have their friends over when all we want to do is fuck."
"Maybe if you weren't so loud, we could have sex in my room without everyone knowing." Colby raised an eyebrow at me daringly. I could see his bottom lip quiver as he tried to hold back a laugh.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You never seemed to have a problem with my screaming before. I'll gladly remember next time you're begging me to say your name to be quiet."
He gasped, legitimately upset. "Begging?! I don't beg."
"'C'mon baby, say my name.'" I mocked in a deep voice. "What's that sound like to you?"
"Commanding!" He barked.
"Not when you're breathy it ain't!" I jeered sarcastically.
Colby sat up quickly, pouting jokingly. He kept my legs on his lap, his hands cupping my ankles. I sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling of the car. "Are you really not enjoying this?"
He chuckled, the 'tension' in the car defusing. "I enjoy any time I get to be alone with you."
I hummed, "Good to know. I think this is kinda exciting. It feels like I'm a teenager again, sneaking around with a boyfriend my mom doesn't know about."
"Am I, like, your edgy boyfriend?" He questioned, side eyeing me.
"Oh yeah. You have tattoos, wear all black, curse, drink..." I gasped, "Oh my God, you're, like, so cool."
Colby bit his lip, staring at me intensely. "Get over here."
He grabbed my wrists lightly, pulling me up. I straddled him, a soft grunt falling from his lips as a I settled onto his lap. "Much better." He murmured.
I studied his face for a moment, taking in all the little details I could. The way his hair fell, covering his forehead. The lovely shape of his eyebrows, manicured without him trying - which was honestly the most annoying thing about him. He also had surprisingly long eyelashes for a man, something I was jealous about as well. His eyes - which of course were to die for. So blue and deep. I had stared into them so many times I had lost count. I never saw the end of them, never studied them long enough to know every intricate detail about them. I don't think there would ever be enough time to do that.
"Hi." Colby whispered, softly smiling.
A light blush came to my cheeks, "Hi."
My hands cupped his face sweetly, his eyes closing at the feeling. I gazed at his cheeks; how adorable they were. I would try my best to remind him that even though he didn't like them himself, I enjoyed his "chubby" cheeks. His dimples. Oh my GOD, his dimples. If I could, I would take a picture of every time I was able to make his dimples appear. I would fill a whole photo album of just his face smiling. And I can't forget his nose. His nose was so... masculine, in an interesting way. It fit his face perfectly. Angular with a slight point.
And then of course his lips. I've had dreams of just kissing him. Of just staring at his mouth. Sometimes it's hard to pay attention to him when he talks because all I can think about is his lips and what they've done to me, and what they plan to do.
He laced his fingers through mine, finally breaking the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? You look so lost in thought."
"I'm just... looking at you." I confessed.
"You like what you see?" He mumbled.
"Love." I emphasized.
He nodded his head, his eyes filled with adoration. He rested his forehead against mine, our lips brushing. His hand slid out of mine, meeting his other on the small of my back. "You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me."
"The feeling is completely mutual." I agreed.
"Good to know...." He leaned in and pecked my lips gently, almost taking my breath away. He pushed my body into his, pressing me as closely as he could. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue slid into my mouth, a moan leaving my lips. My hips naturally grinded down onto him, his hands gripping my waist a little harder from the friction.
He moved his mouth from mine, kissing down my neck and finding the perfect spot in seconds. I lulled my head back, allowing him to attack my neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. I whimpered, my hips bucking against his. He pushed his up, grinding just against the right spot to make my breath hitch. I could feel him getting harder under me, pressing against me in the most sinful way. His hands drifted to my thighs, rubbing up and down them.
"You know..." Colby chimed in, breathlessly. "I really love these fishnets."
I uttered, in a daze. "Wha-?"
He continued his motions, causing goosebumps to form on my skin, "I really like that you wear fishnets. They look so sexy on you."
I cleared my throat, finally able to think again. "Um, thank you."
"It's too bad they just take forever to get off." He somewhat grumbled, dropping his head.
I shrugged halfheartedly. "Yeah, I guess."
"How many pairs do you have?" He asked, looking back up at me.
"Of fishnets? Like five or so." I guessed.
Colby nodded. "And how much was this pair?
"What?" I squinted at him, confused. He blinked, wanting me to continue. "Uh, they were like $25."
"Okay...." He paused, his hands resting on top of my thighs. "Remind me to pay you back."
Before I could say anything, Colby's grip tightened on the fishnets. His fingers laced through the holes in the material. He pulled his arms back, ripping the fishnets with ease. I shuttered at his action, gasping in awe, anger, and lust at seeing him tear them without any problems. Feeling them rip from my body, my skin now exposed, caused heat to rush to my sex. My underwear grew even more wet as my eyes met his dark ones.
"Colby! What the fuck?!" I yelled.
"Don't tell me you didn't like that." He grew close to my face, his voice lowering, "Don't lie to me, baby."
I stammered, trying to form words under his lustful gaze. "T-That's not the point. What are you, an animal?"
"Only with you, darling." He whispered harshly.
My breath raced as I glared into Colby's eye. He had such a devilish look to him, and while I was pissed he would rip my favorite tights, it was also extremely hot.
"Fuck, I hate you." I yanked his face forward, forcing his lips onto mine deeply. He smirked against the kiss, humming a response playfully. I snaked my tongue into his mouth, needing to taste him.
He pulled away, catching his breath at my expense. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can't exactly get on top of you."
"If you have to fuck me in the trunk, then so be it. I just need you to do it now." I gripped his shirt, wanting it off his body.
He laughed darkly. "I don't know... you're demanding a lot for someone that's very breathy."
"Colby, don't fucking tease me." I grabbed his hand, sliding it into my underwear and putting his fingers against my heat. I breathed, "I'm so wet for you."
He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "Okay... I think we can manage something."
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yelshin · 1 year
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☆ WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF...
You leave them alone in your room (w/my fav anemo boys<3)
Masterlist
An: And everyone i wont post fics till school ends bcs its really stressing me out all together huhu | Wc: 500+
Tags: Crack and fluff, gender neutral reader, Scaramouche glaring at small things, reader describes to have stufftoys & plushies and uh thats all i remember
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SCARAMOUCHE
You both were cuddling after Scaramouche got 'little' jealous because you're not giving him enough attention. "Love my mom is calling, ill be back 'kay?" You kisses his forehead making him groan before you take your leave; leaving him all alone.
He sat up frustrated and glare at the plushies/stuff toys you have(if u have one) hell even a plushie of himself. He grab his own plushies before gripping on its throat and punching it "stupid plushie getting more attention than me." After bullying his very own plushie version of him the pillows,and stufftoys etc, he then glared at his next victim; the laptop.
He walked over it and give it a death stare "they do you while they wont do ME" letting out a frustrated sigh he mess his hair; he stared at the ceiling for a couple seconds before standing up and walk to the direction where you are.
Hugging your waist from behind he gave your neck few kisses and speak with a raspy voice
"How come you give other things attention but not me?" Oh what a jealous boyfriend he is right now.
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VENTI
Honestly he's different unlike Scaramouche who bully your stufftoys, plushies etc he wont commit violence at your room.
He watch as you leave your room to grab some food, he then notice that you have quite alot of stufftoys/plushies. He had a silly idea that made him giggle, he pick up all of the big stufftoys you have with his very best but when he tried to pick up another one, he suddenly collapse on the floor but the huge stufftoys save him from falling
"So this is why [Name] prefer to cuddle with you all instead of me.. hehe" Venti chuckled as he hug the stufftoy, while you stood there; in shock that not only venti is cuddling with your stufftoy but its YOUR favorite stufftoy.
"Venti... ARE YOU HONESTLY CUDDLING WITH MY FAVOURITE?!" in the end you two cuddle with the stufftoys on the ground.
Bonus: he might as well re-arrange some of your furnitures..
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XIAO
As you left the room he took a small wander around your room; being curious as he is. He then suddenly stumbled on your... Plushie and stufftoy collection, and one of them was the one he bought on your date. He cant help but glare at them all suddenly? He know that he's better than any of these—'soft things' so why would he be jealous of it?
He suddenly his urge snaps and he grab the stufftoy AGGRESSIVELY and start threatening it like it has feelings.
"You little soft things you dare to get cuddle from [Name] everynight, everyday, every seconds of their life but not ME?" and just like that he continues to threat the poor stufftoys and calmed down after...
"Xiao if you want cuddles just ask so-" "you did not hear that."
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Basically Scaramouche & Xiao: We don't give a fuck if it has feelings<3 (with heart on purpose)
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Sinful Affairs
WARNINGS: Nat has a dick, reader and Nat aren't married but they have a baby, arguing, slight angst, guns/knives, violence, fingering (reader receiving), oral (Nat receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation, edging, choking, slapping/spanking kink (only a bit) jealousy, possessiveness , fluffy ish at the end
WORDS: 2,779
PAIRING: dark/toxic!mob boss!Nat x f!Reader
A/N: silly little me wanted to write this, i hope you guys have been doing well <3
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There it was again, her. The woman you shared many nights with. The woman who couldn't be there for you and the child you had together. But you see her again. You felt your breath catch in your throat. Her red hair was pulled up into a braid. A little boy in her arms. “Natasha. W- what are you doing here? Why are you here?” her lips formed into a sly grin. “Why? Can't I visit my son and my girl?” You glared at her. Her girl? If you were hers, she wouldn't have left you time after time with that dumb little note every morning. ‘Sorry sweetheart, work issues. Had to leave, I'll be back.’ and every time you believed her. You had begged her to stay. To quit her job and live with you and the baby, it's not like she lacked the money for it. She knew you were upset. And that she was the cause of it. “Natasha please just leave.” she sent you a stern look and carefully put down the baby in his crib.
“And why should I listen to you?” she said as she leaned against the wall. “You don't have to. But I want you to.” she seemed unphased by your little comment. She was more humored that you didn't want her here. Or that you attempted to lie in order to get her to leave. “If you aren't going to stay, then there's no point in coming here. You're getting my hopes up, and Alex would know you well enough to remember. Remember that his other parent could care less about him and his mom.” she faked a look of pity as she backed you out of the nursery and into the bedroom.
“You don't realize that if I stay, you two would get hurt. Do you even know how many enemies I've made in my line of work? No. Exactly, so you can't be upset at me for something you don't know.” you scoffed, “oh, so you visiting makes it any less dangerous for us? Nat– you‐ God! I don't even know what I feel when I'm around you.” was that a confession, or were you still fighting? “Well, I'm being careful with my visit times. I don't show up whenever I want to.” so she chose to ignore that last part.
You couldn't tell if you were mad at her or if you wanted to risk it all for one more night with her. So you stayed silent as she brought up a finger under your chin to direct your face to hers. “Natasha– if you stayed here, you would be able to protect us. What if you don't come home for over a week and you show up to find us dead? Hm?” her grip on your face slightly tightened. How could you say something like that? “Detka.. I–” your gaze dances over her features. She accidentally let her insecurities slip, you could tell. Her brows softened, and her eyes were a bit glossed over.
“You what?” she slid her hand from your face and down to your neck. Her fingers hesitated before clasping around your neck and pushing you up against the wall. Her hold was tight but not yet unbearable. You felt your oxygen cut off at some point, making your head go all fuzzy. She was always violent but never over matters like this. When she noticed your hand around her wrist loosen, she stopped. Did she go too far? No. In her mind, she was always right. You gasped for air the second she let you go. “Y/N—” you coughed as you leaned your head against the door.
“D- don't you think you've done enough Nat?” you couldn't bring yourself to look at her. “... What if I marry someone else? Alex wouldn't mind a stepdad or step-mom. At least they'd be there for him—” that was it. She had enough of you by now. You winced as you felt her palm harshly hit your cheek, reddening the side of your face. “Don't you fucking say that you little slut. Alex is perfectly fine with the way things are.” you blinked back some unshed tears, “how do you know that? He's just a baby. He can't even talk yet! Did he tell you that he was okay with all of this? Did he?” she sighed as she shook her head.
You watched her slowly bring a hand up to her pocket and pull out a blade. “Natasha put that down.. fuck– put it down, Nat!” you shouted as you threw the pillows that sat on the bed at her. If anything, it angered her more. “Natasha stop! I- I can call 911. You've been wanted by the police for a few years, isn't that right?” she huffed as she threw you onto the bed with ease. “Please Tash stop!” you cried as you felt her cold touch underneath your shirt. “You aren't marrying anyone. If you do, it'll be me. You're mine. You hear that?” you had to give in. Or else she would've done something to you. “Mhm! I'm yours. I'm all yours! Please Nat stop.” you held your breath as you felt the tip of the knife gently hit your skin.
She's not going to kill you. Right? She has hurt you before, but you doubt that she'd kill you. Or maybe she would. A shaky gasp escaped your mouth when you sensed the head of a gun underneath your chin. It can't be loaded. Can it? You whimper as she harshly tugged on your hair and pressed the gun harder against your skin. “Natasha! Nat.. please t–that's empty, right?” her lips grew into a slight smirk as she lowered the gun and pulled the trigger, aiming for the wall. You felt your blood go cold, it was loaded. She was going to kill you, wasn't she? That's what she wanted you to think. The second you heard the shot, your body slightly jumped. The knife that she held against your stomach lightly touched your skin.
“Natasha please. Let me go. I won't marry anyone, okay? Nat, we have a son– you aren't home half of the time! I have to take care of him. Please, Natasha.” you were thankful she put the gun away, but she still had the knife pressed against your body. “Thank you. I'm sorry, I- I shouldn't have said I'd marry someone else. I'm sorry Natasha—” “turn around.” you look up at her with a confused look, “what?” without letting you process any of what she said, Natasha grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. You heard the knife clatter on the floor as she threw it onto the ground. You lay flat on your stomach on the bed. “God, you're so fucking annoying.” she quickly slid your pants off, leaving your legs exposed. “Natasha..” you stopped yourself from complaining. She was already upset, you didn't want to upset her more.
You felt her palm roughly hit your ass, causing you to slightly wince. “Count for me, kotenok.” she whispered as she sent another smack to your skin, “o-one.” she grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your face off the mattress. “Recount for daddy sweetheart.” you nodded as her hand hit your ass once more, “one.. t-thank you daddy.”
She traced the hem of your panties, chuckling slightly when her finger came in contact with damp fabric. “You got all worked up over that?” you didn't answer her. She slid her fingers against your inner thighs, relentlessly teasing your sensitive areas. “N-Natasha I..” she tore off your panties and tossed them on the floor. Your words get cut short with a muffled moan as she rubbed her fingers through your slippery folds, slamming your face against the mattress. “mmnh..” her touch felt like fire on skin, burning you up. “Tell me.. do you want daddy to fuck you?” you felt her press her fingers on your slit, gathering your slick and spreading it all over your cunt. “Nata– daddy please.” you didn't know if you were begging her to stop or to keep going.
“Get up.” you bit back a whimper and sat up on the bed. You watched patiently as her hands went to discard her jeans and boxers. Your eyes go straight to look at her thick, hardened dick. “Well?” you turn your gaze away from her. “Are you that dumb?” she sighed as she gripped onto your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. She pulled your face closer to her length and shoved a few inches inside your mouth. “mmph—” she buried her hand into your hair and pushed further into your mouth. “Be a good little bitch and suck.” you rolled your eyes and flattened your tongue along the veins of her cock.
She guided your head around her dick, shoving it deeper into your mouth. You slightly gagged as her tip hit the back of your throat. “Take it all in, baby girl.” her breath labored as your tongue teases and sucks her length. “Fuck..” her grip on your hair tightened as you sucked her cock vigorously, drool dripping down from your chin.
You didn't want this. She didn't care for you, but it felt so natural like it was meant to be. Like you were meant to be hers. But she wasn't yours, was she? She was yours too. You just didn't know. She didn't want you to know.
Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as her dick popped in and out of your mouth. “oh God!” her head threw back as you sucked harder on her girthy length, sinking it deeper and deeper into your mouth. It was then that she thrust her hips forward and her tip pushed back into your throat, causing you to gasp for air as you choked on her length and tears to spill from your eyes. “mmnph!” she didn't stop fucking your throat, her hand buried into your hair as she forced her cock deep into your mouth. “Fuck– I'm gonna cum in that slutty little mouth of yours. Take it.” you hear her say, and you felt two ropes of thick cum release into your mouth.
She pulled her length out of your mouth and brought her hand down to her dick and began pumping. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.” you could tell from her voice that she was close, you closed your eyes shut as her cum sputtered all over your face. “Shit..” she moaned softly as she came on your face. She lowered her hand down to grip your face, “daddy's sorry for having to ruin such a..” she examined your fucked out face, her cum and your saliva dribbling down the corners of your lips, tears rolling down your blushed cheeks. “..pretty little face.” she chuckled as she tapped her palm against your warm cheek.
“Get on the bed.” you complied and got up with shaky legs and laid on the bed. Natasha walked over to the edge of the bed and pulled your legs around hers. “What do you want daddy to do kotenok?” you were about to respond, but then she slipped her hand in between your thighs, making you let out an embarrassingly loud whimper. “Daddy please.” she raised her brow up and slid her thumb against your glistening slit. A cocky smirk played on her lips as she watched your hole twitch, and your body squirm underneath her. You let out a sigh of relief as she inserted 2 fingers inside of your pussy. She quickly pumped her digits in and out of your tight cunt, stretching your walls out for her cock. “Daddy– oh my God, I'm so close!” she pulled her fingers out of your cunt, “whores like you don't get to cum this soon.” you whined as you felt her leave you empty.
She grabbed the knife and swiftly sliced off your blouse, along with your bra, leaving your chest and stomach uncovered. “Natasha put that down. Please, please, I'll do anything.” you chanted pleas and begged her to drop the knife as she gently stroked your bare skin with the metal of the knife. “Nat..” you whimpered in fear as she poked your stomach lightly with the tip of the blade. She sighed as she threw the knife onto the floor.
“Shut up.” she muttered as she roughly held onto your hips and pushed a few inches of her length inside of your aching cunt. “oh daddy fuck!” she rocked your hips back and forth whilst she shoved deeper into you, sliding inside inch by inch. “How are you still so– fucking tight after all of that?” she grunted as she struggled to fit her cock entirely into you. “mm! You're so big daddy..” she thrusted deeper inside of you, earning a moan from your mouth as it hit your sweet spot. “oh fuck– right there daddy! You feel so good inside of me..” you hesitantly grip onto her muscular shoulders as you cry for more. She leaned down to press her lips against yours, pulling you in for a slow kiss. “You drive me crazy detka..” she mumbles breathlessly against your lips. You moan into the kiss as she thrusts deeper inside of you. “nmh.. Natty!” you gasp softly as she snapped her hips upwards.
“Are you close?” she grunted as she fucked harder into you. “..y-yes.” you were surprised that you were able to respond as your nails dug deep into her skin, leaving crescent shaped marks. “Beg. Tell me why you deserve to cum.” you mentally scoffed at her, “daddy please. Please I need to so badly.. please- please- please!” she snickered at your desperation. “Fine. Do it now it you won't get to cum later.” she said as she continued pounding away at you. You scream in pleasurement as you came all over her cock, your thighs trembling as your nails scratching at her back and shoulders, hard enough to draw blood.
She continued her movements on your cunt as she rolled her hips against yours, “ngh– daddy stop..” you muttered, all out of breath. “oh.. sweetheart, I'm not stopping till I finish inside of you.” she seemed unbothered by your whines and complains, her strong hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you from moving away. “N-Natasha please.” despite your attempts of getting her to stop, the whorish moans never stopped leaving your mouth. You clawed at her back as her tip pushed up to your cervix, “Gonna cum inside you baby.. fill you all up.” she groaned when she felt your spongey walls clench around her cock. She slightly smiled as she leaned down to pepper light, feathery kisses all over your stomach. “mhm..” you were at the point where you couldn't speak properly, everything seemed like a blur, all your words came out incoherently.
Her breaths became more strained and heavy as she fucked vigorously into you, “tell.. tell me you want me to cum inside you.” she breathed out, clear sweat glistened on her forehead. “I wan’ you to.. ” your mind hazy as you barely finished speaking. “You too tired to speak detka?” she chuckled, “no– Nat cum inside me.. please.” her lips curled into a small smile. “Whatever you say moya lyubov.” she said as she came deep inside of your cunt, painting your velvety walls white. “Fucking hell..” she panted as she laid against your limp body. “Natasha pull out.. ’m too sensitive.” she placed her lips over yours, softly kissing your plump lips. “Okay..” she whispered against your mouth as she slowly pulled out.
“Natasha..” you mumbled out her name, “yeah?” you weakly grasped her hand. “Stay.” her gaze softened as she lightly squeezed your hand. “Detka you know I can't.” tears pricked your eyes, “stay. Natasha, please.” you could hear your voice cracking as you spoke. “Please.. darling, I need you home. We need you home.” she wasn't going to stay. She'd leave like always. Right? She wouldn't listen to you. The thoughts spun in your head, “okay. Just this once.” your hand fell from hers. She was going to stay. “I can't let them find you two.” you furrowed your brows, “who?” she smiled and kissed your forehead. “Nothing. Go to sleep baby.” she dodged your question, but you were too tired to argue with her.
“Lay with me?” she nodded and lies down next to you. Snuggling her chin in the crook of your neck, “I love you.” she said as she pecked your cheek. A smile appeared on your lips when you felt a squeeze at your waist. “I love you too.”
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tabbedtabby · 5 days
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good luck, babe! | chapter 2
regina george x reader
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summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)
——————————————————————
When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.
You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?
You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.
You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.
After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.
“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.
“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.
You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.
You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.
“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.
“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.
“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.
“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”
You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”
“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.
“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”
You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.
“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.
Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.
“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.
Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.
You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.
She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.
Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.
Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.
“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.
You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.
“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.
“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.
“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.
“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.
Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.
You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.
Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.
Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?
-
After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.
This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.
“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.
“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.
Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.
You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.
Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.
“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?
“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.
“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.
“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.
“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.
“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.
“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.
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proxima-writes · 1 year
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Title: cruel summer | chapter 1
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Pairing: Joel Miller/Female!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Chapters: 6/6
Read on AO3 | Join the tag list
Summary:
Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.
He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he���d have about her.
Author’s note: I’m playing fast and loose with ages and timelines here. Joel is 38, reader is 23, and Sarah is 5. No mushroom apocalypse here, y’all.
Additional tags/warnings: explicit sexual content, age gap (15 years), reader is 23 and Joel is 38, he’s a lil guilty about it anyways, pet names, dirty talk, lack of aftercare, oral (f receiving), fingering, begging, angst, drying humping. Let me know if I’m missing anything!
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You hear the heavy footsteps of your dad and the contractor coming up the steps to the front door. You turn from the stove, spatula in hand just as your dad comes into view with a man you’ve never seen before.
He’s tall and broad, shoulders stretching the worn flannel he’s wearing to what must be near its breaking point. He’s got a strong nose and sharp jaw highlighted by his tan skin. His hair is brown that’s streaked with gray, messy curls sticking up in all directions.
Woah, you think. Your eyes meet warm brown ones that make your knees feel a little unsteady.
Your dad gives the man your name followed by, “My daughter. She’s home for the summer while she studies for the MCAT. I hope that’s not a problem that she’ll be here?”
“Not a problem for me. Noise might bother you, though, if you’re tryin’ to study,” the man says, deep voice making your mouth go a little dry. He holds a hand out to you. “I’m Joel, by the way. I’m doin’ the remodel on your parent’s room.”
That’s right. Your dad had mentioned that your mom had finally broken him down and made him get a contractor out to update their master bath. They scheduled it while they’re away on a six week cruise, leaving you to house sit while you studied for your exam.
“It won’t bother me,” you reply, shaking his hand. They’re calloused and warm and just the brief contact is enough to have you wondering what they would feel like trailing over other parts of your body. “I’ve got noise canceling headphones.”
He smiles, but it’s short lived. He sniffs the air, brows pinching together. “Is something burning?”
“Shit! My eggs!” You turn back to the stove and shut the burner off, moving the pan off the heat and trying to scrape your now burnt scrambled eggs from the surface.
“Come on, Joel, let me show you upstairs.”
________
Joel returns to the house a few times that week to take measurements and talk materials with your mom. Each time you’re there in the kitchen, books spread around you at the dining table and your head bobbing to music he can’t hear.
He can’t help the way his eyes linger when he comes inside, stomping his work boots against the mat inside the doorway as a courtesy and, if he’s honest with himself, to get your attention. And every time you glance up and smile at him, bright and beautiful.
As soon as he’s back upstairs and remembers he has a job to do, he berates himself for the thoughts he has. He has no goddamn right to be looking at a client’s daughter, much less one as young as you.
His presence in the house is sparing over the first couple weeks of the job, mostly just dropping by for measurements and to get an idea of a plan for demo day. He’s got orders in on tile placed, fixtures picked out, paint purchased. Everything’s in place to get started next week.
Satisfied, he heads downstairs to leave. He both hopes you’re in the kitchen and prays you’re not, if only to ease his guilty conscience.
But there you are, bent over in front of the fridge in shorts that hug your ass a bit too well. You straighten up with a can of beer in your hand, popping the tab and taking a sip.
“You even old enough to drink that?” Joel can’t help but ask, lingering in the doorway.
“I bought it. Why, you wanna see my ID? You moonlight as a cop or somethin’?” You roll your eyes.
Brat, Joel thinks, rolling his lips together. He turns to leave, he’s made enough of a fool of himself for one day.
“I’m twenty-three, in case you were wondering!” You call out as the door shuts behind him.
Fuck.
________
Joel’s been upstairs since early this morning, smashing things with a sledge hammer, prying things with a crowbar, and all sorts of other destruction that filters through your headphones.
It’s almost noon when you decide to give up and give into the temptation to go see what the man is doing. You head upstairs, stepping carefully into your parents room. There’s plastic tarp leading from the door of the bedroom to the door of the bathroom that crinkles beneath your feet as you move further inside.
You peek beyond the doorway of the bathroom and clutch the frame almost painfully when you catch a glimpse of a rather sweaty Joel, white t-shirt sticking to his chest and back as he wiggles a crowbar between the wall and vanity, leveraging his body weight against it to get the fixture to detach from the wall.
He repeats the process a few more times until the vanity is completely removed. He tosses the crowbar to the side and wipes the back of his hand across his dusty forehead. You clear your throat, his eyes shooting to the mirror to meet yours.
“Hey, uh. Hi. I’m about to make something for lunch…did you want anything?” You ask. His chest moves rapidly with his labored breathing.
“Sure,” he finally says.
_______
He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be sitting at the kitchen table, watching you move around the kitchen like a picture of domesticity as you make two ham and turkey sandwiches for lunch.
You set the plate in front of him, along with a cold can of Coke, before sitting across from him with your own matching meal. He takes a bite, humming in satisfaction.
“Thank you,” he says when he’s swallowed. You nod, picking up your own sandwich and digging in.
The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes. Joel lets his eyes wander over you while you’re focused on your food. You’ve got a University of Texas tank top on, white with an orange Longhorn stretched across your chest, and another pair of shorts, giving him an eyeful of your long, smooth legs.
Tearing his eyes from you, his gaze lands on the stack of books on the table. “So, the MCAT. Must mean you’re pretty smart.”
“Not to brag, but I did finish organic chemistry without crying,” you reply, lips tilted in a smug grin. “I’m taking it at the end of August, before senior year starts. Dad said I didn’t have to get a summer job if I moved home and saved him some rent money.”
“What kind of doctor are you lookin’ to become?”
“Pediatrician. I love kids.”
Joel’s heart rate kicks up as he thinks about you chasing a toddler around a manicured lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Or in the kitchen with a baby on your hip.
Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with him?
“Joel?” You ask, breaking through his mental flagellation.
“Hm?”
“I asked if you have any kids,” you repeat.
He can feel his face go soft. “Yeah, Sarah. She just turned five. She starts kindergarten at the end of the summer.”
“How sweet,” you say. “I bet you and your wife are excited about that.”
“There’s, uh…there’s no wife,” Joel replies, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He stands, taking this empty plate to the dishwasher. “I better get back to work.”
Joel feels the weight of your stare on his back as he heads upstairs.
________
It goes on like that for two weeks. Joel gets to the house early and you study at the kitchen table until lunch time, when you ask him if he wants anything to eat. He should say no. It’s not your job to feed him, he’s got a stash of granola bars that’ll do just fine.
But each time he sees your hopeful doe eyed expression, his resolve crumbles to dust.
So he sits at the table each day, eating the sandwich you made him and drinking the Coke you gave him, learning tidbits of information about you.
Like how you weren’t sure about pursuing medicine at first, so you’re a bit behind schedule in taking your studies and will be graduating late. You changed your degree path when you volunteered in the pediatric oncology service at the medical school, sitting with young kids undergoing chemotherapy and making their days brighter. Your last roommate had a cat that always hid your keys, but you still liked him anyways. How your favorite color is yellow.
He tells you about Sarah. About how her mom left not long after she was born and how he’s gone at this parenting thing alone, save for the support of his brother, Tommy. He tells you about how only finished a semester in community college before dropping out to pursue construction. His favorite drink is whiskey, neat, and his favorite color is red.
One day, you’re not at the table when he lets himself into the house with the key your dad made for him. He finds he’s disappointed, not starting his day with your smile.
Upstairs, he’s working on laying the mud for the shower pan when he hears a splash from outside. He peeks out the window of the bedroom that overlooks the backyard.
His mouth goes dry and his pants get uncomfortably tight as he watches you lift yourself from the pool. You’ve got on the skimpiest red bikini he’s ever seen, the top barely containing your tits and doing nothing to hide the hard peaks of your nipples. You wring your hair out over your shoulder before moving to lay down on a nearby lounger. Your body glistens with drops of water that Joel wants to chase with his tongue.
You turn over on your stomach and Joel bites back a groan, greedily committing the view of your ass to memory. Jesus Christ, he’s never felt like a dirty old man more than in this moment.
He returns to his task and tries to chase his lustful thoughts away with manual labor.
_______
You can see him watching you from the window. Your sunglasses keep your own gaze hidden as you revel in the undivided attention of the man you’d been drooling over the last few weeks. You’d put on your tiniest bikini for the occasion, laying yourself out on the lounge like a meal you’d like him to dig into.
He stood there for a few minutes and you could practically hear his teeth cracking from how tense his jaw was. You could tell Joel really struggled with his attraction to you. He’s staring down the barrel of a fifteen year age gap, after all.
You didn’t see an issue with it. You’re an adult, he’s not abusing any sort of position of power, hell, all the man has done is check you out. He hasn’t even touched you. You don’t want him to feel guilty about being attracted to you because god knows you don’t feel guilty for wanting to climb him like a tree.
You don’t bother with a towel or changing when you go upstairs to tell Joel lunch is ready. When he sees you in the doorway he freezes, and you bite back at a laugh at the look of surprise on his face.
“Lunch is ready,” you tell him.
He clears his throat. “I uh…I think I’ll just eat a protein bar. Thank you, though.”
Your bottom lip pops out in a pout. “But I made pasta salad.”
“I got a lot to do,” he tries again. His jaw keeps clenching, his hand wrapping tightly around the tool he’s holding like he’s hoping it’ll anchor him in place.
“Please, Joel?”
That gets him. He sighs, standing with a groan.
“Fine.”
________
This was a bad idea. He should have held strong and insisted he’d eat by himself today.
You’re still in that goddamn bikini and he is fighting for his life sitting at the table as he watches you plate up pasta salad. Usually you would drink a Coke with lunch but today he’s surprised to see you pouring a glass of wine.
“It’s my day off from studying,” you say as you take your seat across from him, sipping from the glass. “I think I deserve a little treat. Don’t you?”
He has to be imagining the double meaning of your words. He gives you a tight nod in response before focusing all his energy in eating his pasta and avoiding your gaze.
“You okay, Joel?” you ask. Your sweet face is pinched in concern and goddamnit, Joel can’t take this.
“Fine,” he grunts. You give him another pout, the same one that broke his resolve upstairs.
You finish before him, sticking your bowl in the sink before picking up your wine glass from the table and refilling it. Instead of taking a seat, you lean your barely clothed hip against the table in front of him.
“You seem tense,” you comment. Joel swallows roughly, throat dry. You set your glass down and take a step closer.
“What are you doin’?” He asks, voice rough and low. He can barely breathe. This can’t possibly be happening.
You plant your hands on his shoulders for balance as you slide onto his lap, legs on either side of his waist and pussy dragging across his hard cock. He hisses, hands grabbing onto your waist before he can stop himself.
“Darlin’, you can’t be doin’ this,” he says, voice strained. “We can’t be doin’ this.”
“Why not? I see the way you look at me. I’ve been lookin’ the same way.”
“You’re young, baby. Too young for an old man like me.”
You loop your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his and fuck, he can feel your tight little nipples as your tits press against him. “‘M not too young,” you murmur, dipping your head to mouth at his neck. His fingers flex against your ribs. “You’re not doin’ anything wrong, Joel.”
His head drops back as you keep pressing sweet little kisses to the stubbled skin. His hips flex beneath you and you gasp, arms tightening around him.
Joel is so fucked. So, so fucked. Has been from the moment he stepped into this goddamn house and saw you sitting at this very table.
Maybe…maybe just one time. One time should be enough, get it out of your systems, cut through the tension and move on.
You’re whimpering against his neck, squirming over his lap as his hands drag up your waist until his fingers find the edge of one of the pathetic triangles covering your breasts. He can feel your breath hitch as he pulls it to the side, exposing your tight little nipple to the cold air.
“God, baby,” he groans, dipping his head forward to wrap his lips around the little bud. You moan so loud and wanton as he licks you that he knows he’s fucking done for.
He digs his fingers into your still damp hair, tugging your head back so that he can finally drag your mouth to his. You taste like wine and sunshine and he’s never been much of a wine guy, but from your tongue he’ll taste anything.
You open up to him so sweetly, your hands clutching his shoulders and your hips moving against his painfully hard cock as he devours you, dragging his own hands over all that exposed skin like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t touch you everywhere at least once.
It’s still not nearly enough.
He stands and you squeak in surprise as he sits you on the edge of the table. “Holy shit,” you mutter. He glances at your face to make sure you’re okay.
Your hair is messy from his hands and lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and dark as you stare back at him. Your top is half off, and Joel can’t help but reach out and tug the other cup down to expose your other breast.
“Pretty as a goddamn picture, darlin’,” he murmurs. He presses a hand to your chest, urging you to lie back.
“You think I’m pretty?” You ask. He huffs a laugh.
“Don’t be a brat, fishin’ for compliments,” he admonishes. He plucks at the strings holding those little bottoms in place, the bows falling loose so that he can push the material aside. “Look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re drenched, baby.”
“Been like this every day,” you reply, voice all breathy as you squirm beneath his rapt attention.
“That right?” He asks, dragging his thumb through your wet folds. You moan, hips jumping from the table. He kneels, placing one arm around over your hips as he presses your legs apart with his free hand, spreading you for him.
You’re breathing so fast he’s almost worried you might pass out. “Shhh, pretty thing, let me take care of you.”
He licks a broad stripe over your core, his tongue swirling around your aching clit before dipping back down to your entrance. You fight against his hold, hips trying in vain to chase his mouth.
“Oh, god,” you cry out. Your hands find their way to his head, fingers scratching against his scalp as he feasts on your cunt. “Joel, more, please!”
He keeps his arm tight against you and uses his other hand to slip one finger into your wet heat, groaning at how tight you are. His tongue focuses on your clit while he slowly strokes his finger in and out, adding a second then a third when you start babbling about more more more.
“Fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg. He shakes his head against your cunt, the scrape of his beard against your sensitive flesh making you scream. “Please!”
He stands, continuing to stroke his fingers inside you as he uses his thumb on your clit to replace his tongue. “Can’t, baby girl, I don’t have a condom with me.”
“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, please, Joel, I need your cock so bad,” you plead. Joel groans. He’s already crossed a line but he can’t go there. He knows damn well that if he feels you clenching around him with nothing between your bodies, screaming his name as he pounds inside of you, he won’t ever leave.
“No, sweetheart, you’re going to come on my hand and my mouth or you’re not going to come at all,” he snaps, hand moving faster, curling against your front wall.
_______
Tears slip from the corners of your eyes as Joel continues to drive you higher and higher toward release, your muscles tightening painfully as his fingers curl inside you and his thumb circles your clit.
You don’t know what you expected from all this, but Joel Miller dirty talking and finger fucking you on your kitchen table was not on your deduction bingo card. He’s better than anything your brain has conjured up thus far and you just know this one time isn’t going to be enough to sate you, especially since he keeps calling you “good girl” and “darlin’” and “sweetheart” in his rough southern accent.
You want him to fuck you so bad, you’re desperate for it. But he’s staunchly refusing to cross that line despite the hundreds that have been crossed already.
You try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting this to end, but it crashes over you anyways, leaving you breathless and sobbing his name as his hand slows its pace.
Joel’s fingers slip from your body and he leans forward, pressing them to your lips. You open your mouth, licking and sucking at his offering.
“Goddamnit,” he groans. “That was gorgeous.”
You sit up, supporting yourself on shaky arms. He steps back, but you hook a leg around his waist to stop him.
“Wait, let me—“
“No, baby, I’m good,” he says, cutting you off and dodging your hands. “I gotta get back to work.”
You can feel your high leave you in an instant. “Oh…okay.”
“Thank you for…lunch,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll be upstairs. If you need me.”
You don’t say anything as he turns to leave.
————
Upstairs in the bathroom, the one not being remodeled that he presumes is yours due to the messy countertop and fluffy yellow towels, Joel takes his cock from his pants and fists his length, grip almost painful as payment for his transgressions.
He cums with the thought of your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, shouting his name as you clenched around his fingers. Your name is on his lips in the softest whisper he can manage as he cums, hard and hot, into a tissue.
He slumps against the wall, breathless. And while he may have come faster than a teenager, he doesn’t feel an ounce of relief.
Fuck.
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roosterforme · 6 months
Text
Adult Education Part 7 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jessica can't get enough of the comfort she feels around Jake, and he can't help but press her to define what they are doing. Everything feels heated and still sweet when they hang out for the day, and when she brings up the alumni event, he's immediately onboard.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jessica couldn't remember the last time she felt this comfortable and confident around someone else. She had grown into the understanding that her own company was the best company for her, and especially for the past year, she had kept contact with most people to a minimum. Keeping them at a professional arm's length as much as possible. But when she was with Jake, she didn't feel like she needed to be quiet and keep her head down to survive. 
"I got pretty much every kind of snack for today," he told her as they stood in his kitchen. "Just because I don't know all of your favorites yet."
Yet. That was the second time he'd made her heart flutter like this. He also told her he was getting attached to her. And now his cheeks were a little pink as she picked up some chips and salsa.
"I told you I'm not picky as long as you have Sam Adams for me."
"I'll make sure I always have it," he promised as he took two bottles out of the refrigerator and followed her to the living room. "You relax and shout to me if anyone scores, okay?"
"Where are you going?" she asked from her spot on the couch as he set the beers down and left again. She noticed the stack of journals she'd given him were sitting near the corner of the coffee table. 
"Just going to add everything to the crockpot so we can have dinner later."
Jessica settled back into the cushions and watched him walk away, his shirt hugging his broad shoulders. He was perhaps even more handsome than Brian Conley, which was something she would have never thought possible. When she and Brian were sleeping together, she thought he was the most attractive man she'd ever seen. Ten years older. Gray hair mixed in with chestnut brown. Icy blue eyes. But now she was coming around to the idea of someone her own age, with lighter hair and pretty green eyes. 
When Jake returned a minute later and settled down right next to her, even though there was plenty of room, she asked, "How old are you?"
He took the jar of salsa from her hand and opened it as he said, "Thirty. I'd ask you how old you are, but my mom would be really disappointed if she ever learned that I did. So if you'd like to tell me, that's fine, but I'm not asking."
Jessica laughed as she opened the bag of chips and curled her legs up onto the couch so her thigh was resting on his. "How would your mom ever find out anyway?"
Jake scoffed as he scooped salsa onto a chip. "You don't think she's going to want to meet my girlfriend?" He shoved the whole thing into his mouth before grabbing more. "She'd get the information out of you somehow, I'm sure."
She sat there quietly and broke a chip in half before nibbling on it as she tried not to smile. She hadn't been in a relationship since right after grad school. Most guys didn't seem inclined to want to do more than sleep with her. Her brand of nerdy was a hard sell. She was smarter than almost everyone else, she was introverted, and she preferred playing Dungeons & Dragons or reading a book to going out. Well, excluding an evening at Chippy's. 
"I'm thirty one," she said softly with a grin. 
"Perfect," he replied, casually scooping more salsa onto a chip. "I also wouldn't be upset if you told me if you bought that green underwear you were looking at on your phone."
She started nibbling on the other half of the chip as Jake's arm rubbed hers. "Maybe." He was looking at her out of the corner of his eye before turning away from the football game completely to face her. "Okay... yes, I bought the set," she said, biting her lip. "You're missing the game."
"I don't really care about the game all that much. Like I said before, I think I've gotta be the world's worst Longhorns fan."
"You're terrible," she confirmed as he held out the jar of salsa for her. 
His gaze dipped down to her lips. "Why are you so far away?" he asked softly. 
She wanted to laugh, because she was practically sitting on his lap. Instead she leaned in and kissed his cheek as she said, "What was I thinking?" Jake's body was big and warm and cozy as he draped his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled in close to him with her cheek resting on his chest. She dipped a chip into the jar he was holding and teased him with it before she shoved it into his mouth. 
"Thanks, Baby," he murmured as he chewed it up. Then she took the jar and the chips and set them on the table and grabbed the beers instead. They sat cuddled up, sipping the drinks, and Jake was actually less annoying when the Longhorns scored than she had anticipated. She just relaxed into him as the condensation from her bottle dripped occasionally onto his jeans, but he didn't complain, so she didn't move. 
"You want another one now?" he asked, taking her empty bottle in the same hand as his and kissing her hair. 
"No," she whispered. "And don't get up. I'm comfortable."
"Okay," he replied softly, leaning forward just enough to let the bottles drop with a thud onto the area rug. 
Jessica pushed him back with her palm on his abs, and she bit her lip as she felt his muscles. "I said don't move."
"You're in charge, Reedy."
--------------------------
This was all wildly thrilling for Jake. He was with a beautiful woman who wanted to chill on his couch and run her hand back and forth across his abs while they watched football together. He never did this kind of thing. Ever. This was indulgent in a way he didn't usually operate. 
When Jessica looked up at him through her eyelashes, he reached over and adjusted her glasses. Then he felt her hand dip inside his shirt and come to rest just above his jeans, fingers stroking almost to the point of tickling. And he wasn't even watching the game. Maybe it was halftime. He wasn't sure. It didn't matter. 
Why did he suddenly want a girlfriend so badly that he kept thinking about it? He was thinking about how this could be a normal weekend for him. And how he could have Jessica curled up with him like this in bed. 
He was staring. He knew he was. But so was she. And her small hand was moving across his skin in the most addicting way. "Reedy," he whispered, and that was all it took. She planted her hand with her fingertips inside his jeans, and Jake groaned as she kissed him. When her hand slid up his abs to his chest and pulled his shirt up with it, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her until she was in his lap. 
In the deepest recesses of his brain, Jake knew he couldn't let anything too wild happen today. Just kissing. Just like this. But when he let his hand trail down to Jessica's round ass, he realized the fabric of her leggings was thin and that he could feel her thong through it. It felt lacy. He wanted to know what it looked like. 
He palmed her a little rougher, until she broke the kiss and rubbed herself against him. "Oh, Jessica," he groaned, taking in the sight of her wide eyes and crooked glasses. She was raking her fingers slowly through his chest hair while Jake squeezed her butt. He couldn't think straight as her lips met his again, and then his hand was up the back of her shirt.
Her skin was so damn soft, and Jake was not going to be able to conceal the fact that he was getting hard for her when her knee kept nudging him through his jeans. Her feather soft kisses were becoming more demanding as she brought her other hand up to ruin his tidy hair. And fuck if he could control himself. 
In an instant, she was on her back along the couch with Jake on top of her. She let out a surprised giggle as her head came to rest on the cushion. "This okay?" he asked, kissing along her jaw. 
Jessica responded by spreading her thighs so he could settle against her, and Jake had to keep reminding himself that this was a marathon, not a sprint. But her body was warm and inviting, and she was so responsive to his touch. Every gasp from her lips had him pushing his hands a little further up her sides and sucking a little harder on her neck. 
"Jake," she moaned, rolling her hips up against him. 
"Fuck," he gasped, one hand sliding between her back and the couch as he pushed himself against her this time. Her lips were parted, and she was digging her fingers into his shoulders. Jake moaned when she wrapped one leg around his hip. Her shirt was pushed up almost to her tits, and he wanted to taste all of her skin. But she pulled him close for another kiss, and Jake knew he had to pump the brakes. 
He slowed it all down, easing his hand up to her back instead of her perfect ass. He let each kiss taper off until his lips were barely brushing hers. And then he felt her leg slide down from his hip as she took his hand and guided it further up her shirt until he was touching her bra. She chased his lips as he pulled away from her, and now she looked embarrassed.
"Jessica. Not a horny quickie on the couch. Not for our first time together."
"Okay. Right," she whispered, her fingers tracing along his neck. "Do you want to go to your bedroom?"
He kissed her cheek and said, "I think we should save it for another day."
As he slowly let his hand trail down her tummy, she turned her face toward the TV and laughed a little awkwardly. "Is it that obvious that it's been a long time for me? I'm sure that's not the case for you."
He didn't quite know what to say. "No, it's not obvious. And no, you're not wrong," he murmured, his brow creasing as he leaned closer for a soft kiss. Had it really just been two weeks ago that he brought someone home from the bar? "But it has actually been a very long time since someone mattered like you do. So the pacing is kind of important to me."
"You're sweet." A pretty smile touched her lips, and then he let himself kiss her belly before pulling her up so she was sitting and looking at him. Her hair was a little messy, and her glasses were crooked again, and Jake was suddenly afraid he was going to fuck this all up. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and leaned in to kiss him one time. 
It really was halftime now, and Jake watched her stand and look through the stack of journals on the table. Her voice was still soft and breathless as she glanced at him and asked, "Where's the one with my phone number? I wanted to show you something in the article I wrote."
Jake wanted to laugh or maybe cry. This woman thought he was smart. Well, he knew he was smart, but nobody else ever seemed to care if he was. "It's in my bedroom."
"It's in your bedroom?"
"Yeah," he replied easily. "I'm keeping that one for sure. You can have the rest of the journals back, but not that one. I worked hard for that phone number."
She giggled. "You really did. And you did great. Can I get it out of your room?"
He thought he was going to respond by telling her yes, but instead he suddenly asked, "Are you seeing anyone else?"
Now her expression was surprised as she came to stand between his spread legs, and he looked up at her. "Are you asking me if I'm meeting other men at Chippy's and during my office hours?"
Jake nodded and swallowed hard as she bent at the waist and let her hands rest on his knees. "Yeah. I'm sure Chippy would be delighted to see you with someone else."
"No," she laughed. "I'm not seeing anyone else. Are you?"
"Absolutely not."
"Good." Her hands slid up to his thighs as she kissed him, which was doing nothing to help him get rid of the awkward half erection he was sporting. "Is it cool if I grab the journal from your room?"
"Yeah," he grunted. "You'll see it in there."
When he watched her walk away, he groaned and sprawled out on the couch. He needed to pull himself together, or she would definitely be taking someone else to Chippy's soon.
-----------------------------
To Jessica's immediate delight, she found the journal on Jake's nightstand. It was even folded open to the page with her article and phone number. She picked it up and headed back to the couch where he was sprawled out now with his head propped up on the pillow. Hot, needy sex had sounded delicious twenty minutes ago when he was grinding against her, but when she looked at him right now, she knew that's not what she needed. She'd had plenty of that in Brian's office and the backseat of his SUV. 
She didn't want to think about him. Not when Jake was reaching for her hand and pulling her down on top of him like she weighed nothing. He didn't even grunt or groan as she settled chest to chest with him. Her legs were tangled with his as he wrapped his arms around her, and she tried to keep the journal from getting smashed. 
"What do you want to talk about? I think I have the whole thing memorized," he said softly, keeping his attention on her even though the second half of the game was on. 
"I wanted to show you how I wrote about your Super Hornets," she said, unable to stop smiling now. 
"Yeah, I saw that. You know more about the damn things than I do, Dr. Reed."
She laughed. "I'm Dr. Reed again?"
"Jessica," he whispered in that drawl that made her heart clench as he rubbed her back. "You ever been up in one before? You wanna fly with me one day?"
She let the journal slide to the floor as she gaped at him. "Would I be allowed? I've always wanted to!"
He shrugged. "I can investigate it. Or I could always sneak you out onto the tarmac after dark so you can sit in the cockpit."
"That sounds scandalous."
"It would be," he confirmed with a smirk. "You could sit on my lap. I could show my throttle. Teach you how to use it."
Jessica felt warm as she kissed him, his hands heavy on her lower back. But it was sweet and intentional instead of rushed even though she was straddling his abs. She was always at least slightly turned on when she was around Jake, and she was starting to suspect he felt the same way. But his restraint was sexy. 
"I like this," she whispered between soft kisses as she ran the tip of her nose up along his. 
"Me too, Baby," he replied, and when she bit her lip and pulled away a few inches to smile, he looked like he was in awe. 
"What?" she asked. 
He shook his head. "I just can't believe you're into me."
She rolled her eyes. "You're handsome. Everyone is into you."
"That's not what I meant," he said with a laugh. "And you're obviously better than everyone else."
Jessica had to reel in her ridiculous grin as she threaded her fingers through his soft hair. "Hey, can I ask you something? And feel free to say no, because it's probably going to be really, very dumb, and I won't be upset if you don't want to go-"
"Yes."
She stared at him for a beat. "I didn't even ask it yet."
"I know. Whatever it is, I'm in."
Once again, he was making her feel warm inside. And he still hadn't looked at the game. "So you'll be my date for a posh fraternity fundraiser for alumni weekend?"
He pushed her hair back behind her ear and said, "I don't think posh and fraternity belong in the same sentence together, but yes. I'd love to be your date. Since we're exclusive now."
"Oh, that was smoothe Lieutenant." She found herself tracing the lettering on his shirt as her cheek came to rest on his shoulder.
"I thought so, too," he whispered. Then she dozed off on him. 
-------------------------
Jake held Jessica while she slept, her breaths soft on his neck while he watched the end of the game. He should really get up and stir the chili, but he didn't want to disturb her. If dinner wasn't edible, he would just order a pizza instead. No big deal. 
She finally seemed fully comfortable with him. She was letting him hold her while she napped, and she wasn't shying away from the idea of them dating. He knew there was more to the picture with the way she made him work for it and the rumors Bradshaw's wife told him about. But she was so fucking sweet, Jake didn't care about what anyone else said. And it honestly turned him on when she made him earn his privileges with her. 
She moaned softly in her sleep and wrapped her arm around him. He was going to have to ask Bradshaw or his wife what to wear to a frat party. That's somewhere he never thought he'd be caught dead, but he found himself wanting to make Jessica happy. So exceptions could be made. 
Suddenly she popped up with both palms planted on his chest. "I can't believe I fell asleep," she mumbled, and Jake smiled at the mark on her face from where her glasses had been pressing. 
"You want dinner?" he asked as she sat up straddling his hips. Her shirt had slipped a bit, and he could see the strap of her bra. And honestly, this position was enough to get him going, the way her breasts were clearly pressed together inside her A&M tee. When she nodded, he scooped her up as he sat and then stood. 
She slid down his body with a little giggle, and soon they were both sitting on the stools at his kitchen island. He watched her dip a tortilla chip into her bowl of chili and take a bite. "This is so good," she gushed. "I don't know how to cook anything. You just put stuff in a crock pot? And it just cooks it into a meal?"
"Yep," he replied, trying not to laugh at the look on her face. Now he was thinking about buying her a crock pot. What the fuck was wrong with him? She took another bite and closed her eyes like it was the most pleasurable thing she'd ever tasted. "Baby, has nobody ever cooked for you before?"
"No," she moaned. "Unless you include my mom, and I only get to eat that for holidays. If I can manage to get back to Massachusetts."
He stroked her cheek with his fingers and said, "You want me to bring you dinner again this week? When you have office hours?"
She moaned again and climbed onto his lap to finish eating. Which turned into her straddling him again while he ran his hands all over her perfect ass again. And once again he could hardly believe he pumped the brakes so hard earlier, because eventually her lips were on his neck and her glasses were pressing into his jaw. 
"If you come by on Tuesday, I'll wear something cute to work," she informed him, and his head tipped back. 
"You always look cute."
"Then I'll wear something sexy."
Jake grunted. "Baby, you always look sexy." A few more brushes of her lips, and he found himself asking, "Do you want to spend the night?"
"Oh," she gasped, but she kissed his Adam's apple before pulling her lips away from him.
"We could cuddle. Make out," he clarified, meeting her eyes as she adjusted her glasses. "I could make you breakfast."
She bit her lip and then said, "See, this isn't fair. Now you know that the secret way to get me to do anything is with food. And I don't know what your secret is yet."
"Apparently it's girls with glasses."
Now she was laughing as she planted her hands on his shoulders. "I have a lot of work to do tomorrow at home. I need to start making up midterm exam questions."
"I could help you," he murmured, only half joking. "I solved your problem correctly the day we met, remember?"
"Jake, I will remember for the rest of my life how earnest you were the day we met."
He smiled, and he found his heart swelling with pride. "So you'll stay?"
"Next time," she whispered. "Next time I'll stay. And we can do more than cuddle and make out."
Jake pulled her a little closer with his hands still on her butt. "Yeah. Let's do that."
Eventually he packed up a container with the extra chili and linked his fingers with hers. He walked her to her car and kissed her until they were out of breath, and then he let her leave. But he missed her warmth and her hands on him. He ended up rereading her journal articles and looking up a recipe to make for Tuesday while he imagined just how sexy her outfit might be.
-------------------------
They are exclusive. She ordered the green set. She's dressing sexy on Tuesday. I'm ready. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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candycandy00 · 2 months
Text
The Doll House - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 3
You sell yourself to the Doll House to pay your mom’s medical expenses, only to discover your trainer is the guy who bullied you relentlessly in high school: Gojo Satoru.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Read Geto’s Part Here!
Read Toji’s Part Here!
Read Nanami’s Part Here!
Read Sukuna’s Part Here!
Read Choso’s Part Here!
Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!
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AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Gojo’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Dubcon. Pet Play. Bullying. Collars/Leashes. Overstimulation. Gags. Vibrators. Vaginal sex. Bondage. Oral sex. Gojo being an asshole.
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You wake up lying on the floor of Gojo’s room, your upper half cradled in Gojo’s arms. His face looks frantic, scared, as he looks down at you. He’s saying your name. Not Chubby Bunny, but your actual name. You’ve never heard him say it before. 
“What happened?” he asks you, his voice coming out at a higher pitch than normal. 
“I’m anemic. I faint sometimes. I’m fine.”
You start to get up, but he’s clutching you too firmly. You wiggle a bit to try to shake him off. “Let go so I can get up.”
His grip gets even firmer. “No, I’ll carry you to the bed.”
“I said I’m fine! You can’t carry me, I’m too heavy!”
He flashes a smile. “Who do you think you’re talking to? You’re not too heavy for me.”
With that, he slides one hand under your thighs and stands up, lifting you into the air as he does. You panic and grab onto his neck, afraid of falling. You haven’t been picked up like this since you were a child. How strong is he?!
He laughs breezily as he walks you over to his bed and lays you down. “There, see? Not heavy at all.”
You don’t know if he’s joking or not, so you don’t say anything. 
He stands next to the bed and looks down at you, his face suddenly turning serious. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re anemic? It’s not in your file.”
You look away from him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I faint all the time, just every now and then.”
“It is a big deal! I’m your trainer, I’m responsible for you! What if I hadn’t been close enough to catch you? You could’ve been hurt!”
You hear his voice but you’re avoiding seeing his face. This weird concern is making you uncomfortable. 
He sighs and says, “What do you normally do when this happens? Do you need to see a doctor?”
You shake your head. “No, I just rest a little while and I’m fine.” You start to scoot to the edge of the bed to stand up, but his hand on your shoulder stops you. 
“What are you doing?”
You finally look at him. “I’m going to my bed so I can go to sleep.”
He gently pushes you back down. “Oh no, you’re sleeping here tonight. No arguments, this is an order from your trainer!” He pulls the covers over you and tucks you in. That’s when you notice the collar is gone. He must have taken it off when you fainted. 
“Where are you gonna sleep?” you ask, slightly nervous. The two of you have never slept beside each other yet. 
He smiles. “I’ll take the pet bed.”
He’s way too tall to fit in the pet bed, but the idea of it amuses you. “Okay,” you say. “I should be fine in the morning.”
“Either way, we’re taking tomorrow off,” he tells you. “No training sessions. We’ll hang around in our pajamas and watch movies.”
“Really?” 
“Yeah! It’ll be fun. I’ll make some popcorn.”
That… actually sounds good. But you can’t help being suspicious. “Why are you being nice to me?” 
He gives you that strange look again, one you’ve seen occasionally. Then his expression turns warm and he rubs the back of his head, slightly messing up his hair. “Why? I thought it would be obvious by now. It’s because I lo-“
His cell phone rings loudly, cutting off his words. He reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. “Oh, it’s Shoko calling me back,” he says, then answers with a sharp, “Where were you?!”
You listen to Gojo’s side of the conversation. 
“I don’t care if you were with a patient! My doll fainted and scared the shit out of me!”
“…. Please don’t hang up I’m sorry I yelled!”
“Yeah. How did you know it was her? Ugh, Suguru can’t keep his mouth shut.”
“… You sound just like him. Look, can we talk about this later? I need your advice as a doctor right now.”
“She said she’s anemic. … I don’t know, hold on.” He looks over at you and says, “Do you take any medication for it?”
“No,” you reply, “It’s never been that much of an issue.”
He puts the phone back to his ear. “No meds. She says it’s just an occasional thing. … Okay, and what foods have that? Never mind, I’ll Google it. Thanks, Shoko!”
There’s another pause, a long one. Then Gojo says, “Stop worrying. I’ll take really good care of her. … I’m not hurting her. You know me better than that.”
He puts the phone back in his pocket and returns to your bedside. “Get some sleep. I’ll be up for a while, so if you need anything, just tell me.”
Feeling mildly creeped out by Gojo’s consideration, you fall asleep in his bed. The next morning he wakes you up with a tray of food in his hands. You sit up in bed and he sits the tray in front of you.  There are breakfast meats and eggs, dried fruits, and even a dark chocolate bar. 
“Shoko said you need iron. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a bunch of stuff.”
He plops down beside you as you begin to eat, and tears open a sticky packaged pastry before taking a big bite. He notices you watching him and holds the pastry out. “Want a bite? I don’t know if it has any iron in it though.”
A little flustered by this bizarrely nice Gojo, you return your attention to your tray and say, “No thanks.”
Gojo chats a bit as he eats, mostly talking about Geto and Nanami, funny stories about dolls they’ve trained, strange requests buyers have made, and other interesting things about the Doll House. You mostly stay silent as you eat, and when you’re finished, Gojo takes your tray away. 
Afterwards, he turns on the television and gets back onto the bed while holding the remote. It’s the first time the tv has been on since you’ve been here. 
“Let’s watch a movie,” he says. “What kind do you like?”
“Uh, horror, I guess.”
His face lights up. “I like horror too!”
Gojo acts like an excited little boy as he starts talking about some of his favorites, asking if you’ve seen them. Then he scrolls through the horror category on a streaming service until you both agree on a movie to watch. 
The day passes like this, lying in his bed, watching various movies, eating popcorn occasionally between the iron-rich meals he brings you. He never touches you, at least not in a sexual way, and he keeps asking how you’re feeling. You can’t understand why he’s doing this. Is he afraid there will be legal issues if you become ill while in his care? It’s not like he caused you to pass out, and he didn’t even know you were anemic. 
It almost feels like the two of you are friends, or even… a couple. 
It dawns on you that when you were in love with Gojo in high school, this was what you most often fantasized about: the two of you hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. 
Now, your heart is so confused. You can’t deny that your feelings for him have been reawakened. You’re right back to having a major crush on the hottest, most unattainable guy around. What makes it worse this time is that you have a physical relationship with him, which makes it so much harder to resist getting emotionally attached to him. Everything he does with you is so intimate, especially the way he makes you look him in the eyes during it all. 
Your body responds to him. You never thought you were a masochist, and you don’t enjoy actual physical pain, but you find yourself getting turned on by the degrading aspects. It makes you feel sick and incredibly horny at the same time. 
It was the most pathetic thing in the whole world, getting off on being fucked and degraded by your bully. 
That’s why you can’t wait for the training to be over, so you can get away from him, away from this emotional torment. Once you don’t have to see him anymore, feel his touch anymore, you can put him (and your feelings for him) back in the past where they belong. And maybe your heart can calm down. 
************************
The training is over halfway over, and Gojo still hasn’t told Chubby Bunny how he feels about her. He wants to, but he’s started to feel a little nervous. He’s never confessed his feelings to someone before, not like this. Suguru and Shoko have repeatedly told him that Chubby Bunny probably still sees him as the bully who harassed her in school. They’ve said it so many times that he’s starting to worry about it. 
But how could she? Hasn’t he made his feelings obvious by the way he passionately makes love to her? The way he worships her body? 
He knew from the first night that he wanted to keep her, from the moment she admitted that she’d had feelings for him in high school. If she had feelings then, she would definitely have them now, with him making her cum several times a day. Hell, she begs for his cock all the time! 
The day they spent together, after she fainted, was perhaps even more precious to him than the days he spent inside her. He was surprised by how much they had in common, how much he enjoyed just talking to her. He wants to take care of her, to hold her close, to protect her. 
But he also wants to cum, and make her cum. Fortunately, they both seem to get off on the same things. 
Right now, she’s tied to the bed, no clothing aside from the stockings he loves so much. Her limbs are each tied with rope to a different corner of the bed, her legs spread eagle. He’s attaching a round ball gag to her mouth, fastening the strap around the back of her head as she looks up him with those lovely eyes. 
The ball gag is full of small holes, so that air and other things can pass through. It holds her mouth open, but presses against her tongue so that she can make sounds, but not speak. After it’s secured, Gojo leans forward and sloppily licks the ball gag, letting his saliva drizzle through the holes and into her waiting mouth. 
Then he pulls out a pair of new toys he bought just for her: tiny twin vibrators, each one pink and oval shaped, around the size of the tip of her pinky finger. She looks at them curiously, clearly not knowing what they are. Such a cute, innocent little thing. 
“You’re going to love these, Bunny. I bet you’ve never tried vibrators before, have you? Since your clit is so sensitive and all.”
Her eyes widen, a look of alarm passing over them. Gojo smiles at her and uses the wireless remote to turn the vibrators on, holding them up she can watch them pulse and tremor. 
“Now hold still,” he says, turning them off for the moment. “I’m gonna tape these to your clit, and we’ll see what level you can stand. It goes up to ten!”
She squirms, her limbs pulling at the ropes. Gojo rubs her head affectionately and then moves down between her legs. He spreads the folds of her already wet pussy and gives her clit a few strokes with his finger, enjoying the way she jerks. Then he puts one of the vibrators on each side of her clit, and uses a special clear tape to secure them. The very tip of her clit is sticking out cutely between the vibrators, trembling before he even turns them on. 
He stands beside the bed and watches Bunny’s face as he sets the power to level one and pushes the button. 
Her body shakes, her arms fighting the restraints. She’s making sounds through the gag that make Gojo instantly hard. He holds up the remote so that she can see him turn the power to level two. 
She screams around the gag, her back arching up off the bed as she almost immediately cums. 
“Wow, that quick, huh?” he says, opening his pants and reaching in to pull his raging erection free. As he turns the power level to three, while she’s still reeling from her orgasm, he begins jacking off right beside her. Watching her writhe on the bed as she’s overstimulated is way too hot to ignore. 
He tries to time his orgasm to match her own as the vibrators, now set to level four, drive her to climax again. He’s close, but she cums first, tears pouring down her face. When he knows he’s going to cum, he moves close to her face and shoots his load onto the ball gag, watching it ooze into the holes and drip down her chin. 
He gently rubs her head again. “Do you like that, Chubby Bunny? Having my cum in your mouth?”
She nods, making a noise that sounds like, “uh huh”. He can see her tongue through the holes, lapping at the gag, trying to get every drop. 
Fuck, he’s almost hard again already. 
He turns the vibrators up to five and watches her jerk, her eyes huge as she screams. 
“Are you about to hit your limit? Can your poor little clit handle any more?” he asks, punctuating his words by reaching down and rubbing the tip of her clit with his fingers.  
She emits a strangled cry, trying to rip her arms free as she cums yet again. Her eyes flutter, and it looks similar enough to the safe signal for him to pause and pull the ball gag off, ropes of cum stretching from her mouth. 
“Are you feeling sick?” he asks, unable to hide the worry in his voice. 
“No,” she says, her voice strained. 
“Did you use the signal?”
“N-no, but I can’t handle it… it’s too much! I can’t cum anymore! Gojo, please-“ 
He shoves the sticky, cum soaked ball gag back into her mouth and fastens it again. “If you didn’t use the signal, we’ll keep going.”
She lets out a sobbing whine as he holds up the remote. 
“Ready for level six?”
She’s shaking her head back and forth frantically, her tear filled eyes sparkling in such a pretty way. He thinks he might have just fallen even deeper in love with her. 
He turns it up, and her whole body lifts off the bed. His original plan had been to leave her like this for at least an hour, but he’s afraid she’ll faint again, or start feeling weak and make the safe signal, only for him to miss it or not notice. He won’t take chances with her health or safety. Now that she’s back in his life, he won’t risk losing her. 
He moves down again, bending over her body to get his face close to her throbbing pussy. Then he oh so slowly runs his tongue over the tip of her clit sticking out between the two vibrators, leaving a trail of his drool. She’s breathing so hard, her full, round tits heaving, that he watches her eyes for a minute to make sure she’s okay. Five rapid blinks signal she needs to stop, but she only blinks once. 
His cock is twitching as he lightly strokes it, but he can’t bear to just use his hand again. Not when there’s a dripping wet pussy right in front of him, warm and soft and quivering. 
So he climbs onto the bed, lifts her hips slightly so that he can go in at the best angle to hit the deepest parts of her, and plunges his dick inside her. 
Fuck, she feels amazing. Every fucking time. It’s like her pussy was literally molded to stimulate his cock in precisely the best way. He fucks into her a little too roughly before remembering to be careful. He really doesn’t want to hurt her, but it’s hard to hold back when he’s feeling so good. 
He reaches both hands down and squeezes her tits. They’re so squishy and plush! 
“Good Bunny,” he says, looking her in the eyes. He loves locking eyes with her while fucking her, watching every little emotion that dances through them. “For such an inexperienced little pussy, you take my giant cock so well.”
He’s getting close, his dick pulsing inside her. But he wants to get the timing right this time. He pulls the remote out of his pocket and holds it up. She looks at it as if it’s a bomb. 
“Let’s cum together, okay Bunny? For the grand finale, I’m turning it up to ten!”
She’s shaking her head again, looking up at him pleadingly, trying to form words but only garbled cries escaping the gooey gag. 
He turns it up to the highest setting. She lets out a piercing scream, her sore pussy clenching around him like a vice. 
“I really wanna fill this tight pussy, but you’ve been such a good Bunny for me! I think you deserve a treat!”
Seconds before she cums yet again, sobbing and shaking, he pulls out, tears off the gag, and sticks the tip of his cock into her messy mouth. At the same moment her orgasm hits her, he pumps her mouth full of his hot, thick cum. 
**********************
It almost feels like you’re drowning. Gojo filled your mouth with so much cum, even filling your throat, just as you were gasping and screaming from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. You gulp it down as fast as you can, trying to catch your breath, regretting that you barely had time to savor the sweet taste and creamy texture of it. 
He turns the vibrators off, only after watching you convulse and spasm through your climax. After he removes them, he unties your hands and feet, then pulls you into a sitting position. 
“Are you okay?” he asks. 
He keeps asking that, ever since you fainted. You’ve told him over and over that you’re fine. You’ve even promised to let him know if you start to feel weak or lightheaded, no matter what the two of you are doing at the time. 
“I’m okay,” you say flatly, covering your nakedness with your arms. Somehow it feels way more awkward to be nude in front of him when he’s being nice to you. 
“Need any help getting to the bathroom?”
You slowly stand up, then wince. He fucked you a little harder than usual. It didn’t hurt too much at the time but it left you sore. Not so sore that you can’t walk on your own, so you shake your head and go take a shower. 
The days pass, and when there’s only a week left, you ask Gojo if there are any buyers interested in you. 
“Oh, you’ve already been spoken for,” he says, surprising you. 
“Really? But I thought I was supposed to meet him a few times.”
Gojo shrugs. “It doesn’t always happen that way. Depends on the buyer.”
You feel a strange sense of relief. You’ve actually been worried that no one would want you. You don’t even know what happens in that case. The idea of being stuck with Gojo longer than necessary terrifies you. Your heart can’t take much more of this. 
Then, on your last night here, Gojo approaches you as you’re getting ready for bed. 
“I was going to wait until tomorrow and surprise you, but I can’t hold off any longer,” he says. 
You look up at him curiously. Is he going to give you some sort of parting gift? “What is it?” you ask. 
His face is strangely serious. “There’s no buyer coming to take you tomorrow.”
You blink. “What?” 
“There’s no buyer,” he repeats, and your only thought is, “Of course no one wants me.”
“But I wasn’t lying when I said you’re spoken for,” he goes on. “I’m keeping you. Tomorrow your contract will transfer to me.”
You stare at him, waiting for him to laugh and tell you he’s joking. He doesn’t. 
“Why… would you do that?”
He gives you that look again, that one you can’t quite read, then says, “Why? Because I love you, that’s why. Because I want us to be together.”
The words slowly seep into your brain, and you’re reminded of those cheesy teen movies where the mean popular boy would ask the ugly girl to the prom, just to get her hopes up, and then laugh as he crushes them. 
You can’t take this anymore, these cruel jokes, these petty attempts to trick you. 
“Stop it!” you suddenly yell. “Just stop it, please! Stop hurting me!” 
Gojo’s face freezes, then a look of utter confusion spreads across it. 
You don’t care. You’re going to tell him what you think, what you feel, and damn him, he’s going to listen! 
Tag List:
@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii
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