#like what the fuck are we all doing why did we collectively travel down this path of reality and is it possible for one person to tap into
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Dani should Kidnap The Clones.
It's basicly protective custody. Preemptive child services, if you will. NONE of these fuckers out here makin adorable clone baby just cause they want kids!
*kicks down the door to your shady lab* Knock Knock! ITS THE POLICE! *Walker's Shock troopers swarm the place as Dani secures the kids*
Look me in the eyes. You KNOW he'd love an excuse to enforce The Rules on people technically outside his jurisdiction. It's for The Children(tm)! Why, he simply had no CHOICE!
Meanwhile? Dani is shoving all these mal-adjusted Murder Clones into her Lair? Which is? Basicly a Door style Lair she hid inside Danny's Lair for safe keeping. It's shoved behind a vending machine just outside the observatory. And the inside? Goes on for DAYS.
Like national parks and every beautiful beach she ever came across. She smashed together the BEST sights and places she's found in her travels, like a collection. Always adding more. New waterfalls, new noodle shops, new fields of wine grapes. It's... beautiful. Snapshots of every wonderous little thing about Earth, stitched together.
They can't hurt anyone. Can't achieve their "objectives". Are just treated like actual individuals and the children they truely are. Are surrounded by other Clones. So it's NORMAL here. Just? All of it.
But also?
Dani and Dan? Teaming up to make History's Scariest Adoption Agency(TM). Dan runs it. Dan wants to know why EXACTLY you want a kid. Explain yourself to Dan. What are your references? Qualifications. He's doing a home visit to inspect the premises. He BETTER not find any suspicious Labs.
And? It just? Appears out of nowhere. It's powered by Zone Bullshit. One second you're thinking "oh woe is me D:> I will never have a child to fill my lovely home, because of all my Superhero Secrets and also because government bureaucracy!" And the next?
.....wasn't that an out of business taco bell? "Zone Adoptions"?
"....Free Clone Baby?"
Okay that is HIGHLY suspicious and as a hero you are basicly legally obligated to investigate. But now it's bigger on the inside? Fancy waiting room? You are being interrogated? Wait, no, you're supposed to be the one doing the-?
Somehow? You leave with your Clone Son from another Dimension. And a pamphlet. You're scheduled for a home visit in three days. You... you never told them where you live.
Somehow that doesn't seem like it will slow them down.
Did the Fae just Suprise Baby you with a clone baby? Can they DO that? W... what's happening? What days is this? Who ARE YOU PEOPLE?! HUH!?!?
Just? Imagine. IMAGINE. I was gonna say Bruce... but?
Damian.
He finds himself... pondering What Could Have Been. Had his Clones not wanted him dead. Wondering if he could have saved them. If, perhaps, he had found them as infants. Raised them. Could he have given them a good life? Been a good father?
He gets emotional. Fatherly. He's about 14.
Dan's been around Ghosts too long to remember how humans age or how age relates to development. This one TALKS like An Adult. Must be one. Probably just short.
And Damian? Never backs down. The second Dan starts challenging him? His character is flawless and his morals divine. He has never done anything wrong, ever, in his LIFE. Fuck you. And on TOP of that? He not only will be the SINGLE GREATEST FATHER TO EVER FATHER, his home is the most loving and beloved ON THE PLANET!
In entirety of EARTH'S history, no less!
....what are they arguing about?
*is handed a baby and kicked out of Dan's adoption agency*
See you in a few days!
(o.o ) *happy gurgling from the baby* *Damian.exe has stopped working*
Smash cut, after Damian speed runs his stages of grief at his own Dumbass Life Choices, to his rocking back up at the Manor like? Congratulations, Father. I have brought you your first grandson! Do Not ask how I obtained him. It was likely dubiously legal but I will not be returning him. We have bonded.
And just? Annihilating the collective Bats on one go. You did what? You have What?! That is a baby! WHY IS THERE A BABY?! How is there a baby!? WHOS BABY!? *sirens going off and everyone panicking*
Will Damian be allowed to KEEP the Baby? Ha! Hell no. Bruce will. Damian is a child. But it will be a Needlessly Dramatic Bat Cold War Of Dramatic Drama to pry that small cherubic baby from his grip long enough for Bruce to fill out the paperwork.
Child thieving bastard that he is. How dare he. That is Damian's SON! D:<
*happy oblivious baby noises as Alfred feeds him in the background, while the Bats do their Dramatic Custody War*
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @mutable-manifestation
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the pink pill | myg version (m) — “no one else”
➥ banner by @jkndigo.
➥ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader
➥ SUMMARY: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.
➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ porn with plot ⋆ exes
➥ CATEGORY: one-shot [part of the pink pill series]
➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, angst, exes but also idiots, degradation kink, unprotected sex (dont be like them), rough sex but also love-making??, did i mention a bit of angst, multiple positions guys yoongi is catching up for missing u all those times likeee, spankingggg, making out w tongue, overstimulation, claiming/possessiveness, multiple orgasms for reader, extremelyhorny!reader, cocky exboyfriend!yoongi…. yeah., hes a sick son of a bitch but thats why we like him besides he’s pretty tame in this i have worse yoongi’s up my sleeve this is nothin, neither of you have moved on, mutual pining but mutual STUBBORNNESSSSS for fucks sake, filthy words, creampie, oral sex (f. rec), embarrassingly quick climaxes likeee, minors DNI
➥ WORDCOUNT: 9.8k
a/n: and at last, yoongi’s ver of the pink pill is finally out!!! thank you for loving jk’s version! i hope you enjoy yoongi’s. beware of a bit of angst and complicated feelings<33
⋆ TAGLIST ⋆
⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆
Your trembling thumb hovers over the blue arrow next to your unsent message, eyes scanning over the message over and over again. Your heart might implode in your chest the moment you hit send, which is why you’ve been staring at the message that would cause more cons than pros for the past 5 minutes.
Well, would it, though? It’s just a favor. You need a favor.
It’s like your brain is talking directly to your heart. Your brain is telling you how bad of an idea this is whilst your heart is just rolling its non-existent eyes at the nagging, as if your heart isn’t about to slide up your airways into your esophagus, travel straight up your burning throat and launch out of your mouth. You need to calm down.
The aggravating lump in your throat doesn’t let up.
And that’s when the pad of your thumb impulsively hits the damn blue arrow that’s been mockingly staring at you for the past few minutes.
[11:12PM]
from: You
to: Ignore
can you come over
Once the small letters that say ‘delivered’ pop up under your blue message, you internally scream into the void. Your eyes stay glued to your phone, the back of your phone is becoming slimy in your grasp due to the sweat your palms are rapidly producing.
You barely blink as you stare at the screen, your lips twitching as you wait and attempt to ignore the anxiety bubbling in your chest.
Your gaze slowly shifts upwards on the conversation, rereading old messages. The last you heard from him was 4 months ago. The two of you broke up around 9 months ago but still slept together for a good 2-3 months after.
The last message between you two from 4 months ago was you asking him when he could come pick up the rest of his shit. He came, picked up his shit and that’s when you last saw him. You barely exchanged any words. You had anticipated having sex one last time but he just wordlessly collected his stuff and left.
So, it’s understandable why you’d be so worried about asking him to come over and… well, ask him if he can fuck the shit out of you.
Your heart plummets into the pit of the earth when you notice the ‘delivered’ has turned into ‘read 11:13PM’.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
He’s not responding.
Why is he not responding?
One minute passes. Two minutes pass. Three minutes. Four.
You’ve been staring at your phone the entire time and not once did the bubble that indicates he’s typing pop up.
What if he doesn’t even want to talk to you?
Fuck.
What the fuck were you even thinking?
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
After cleaning up the coffee table that was covered in snacks and empty cans that you used to take your mind off the excruciating arousal pooling in your core, you start heading into your once-shared bedroom with your head held down. It’s been 12 minutes since you sent that message and you haven’t gotten a response.
You’re a damn loser.
You plan to start slipping out of your plain shirt and shorts, cringing when you realize you’ve completely soaked through your cotton shorts. How fucking embarrassing. What the hell is in that pill?
Right as your fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts to pull them down your legs, you hear a rhythmic knock on your front door.
What? Who could…
Wait.
It possibly couldn’t be.
The lump returns to your throat at lightning speed as you start heading down your corridor, sluggishly dragging your feet across the floor.
You press your hand flat against the door in an attempt to gather your thoughts and collect your breath before you slowly start opening up, his familiar feline eyes staring at you with an agitated look pooling in them.
“What do you want?” He doesn’t even have the decency to greet you, he just stands there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.
You quietly swallow as you cross your arms over your chest, stepping to the side to wordlessly invite him in. When he gives you a raised eyebrow in confusion, you say, “I don’t need my neighbors hearing my business.”
The exasperated sigh he lets out slightly stings but he walks in nonetheless. You close the door behind him but he’s showing no intentions or moves to take his shoes off. He just stands in front of the door, annoyance draped over his features.
You silently stare up at him, hoping he doesn’t notice your strange demeanor.
“So? Are you gonna tell me what you want or are you just gonna stare at me and continue to waste my time?” His words are blunt and brutal—the bitterness that he still holds in his heart for you hasn’t left him, it seems.
You finally find the courage to speak up and quietly say, “I need a favor, Yoongi.”
He blankly stares at you for a few moments. Humorlessly laughs at your request. Drops his head. Shakes it from side to side in disbelief.
You can’t help but glare at his reaction, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and spew insulting words at him. This is kind of selfish of you.
“Why would I do you a favor?” he asks once he’s stopped laughing, staring you down with hooded eyelids and no traces of mock amusement left on his face.
“I’ll owe you,” you say, failing to hide the clear annoyance in your tone. You want to strangle him.
“You already owe me.” His response is almost immediate, leaving you speechless for a few seconds as you stare up at him with a frown etched onto your brows.
“Excuse me? What the fuck do I owe you?”
He tilts his head to the side with an irritated look on his face before he says, “I don’t know, you wasted 3 years of my fucking life?”
You exaggeratedly roll your eyes at his words, shaking your head in exasperation. “I could quite literally say the same to you.”
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his intense stare down never letting up.
He decides to ignore your remark and repeats, “What do you want, Y/N?”
You swallow again, looking to the side to avoid his penetrating gaze as you think about how the fuck you’re going to ask him what you want to ask him.
How do you even begin to ask?
Hey, you haven’t heard from me in months but could you fuck me real quick?
“What? Do you need money?” he asks in a neutral tone, although you can sense the concern tinged in his words.
“No,” you mumble, the collar of your shirt is starting to feel like it’s closing in around the perimeter of your neck with the goal of suffocating you.
He continues, “Then what? An alibi?”
You throw your head back in exasperation as you groan, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
It’s quiet for a moment and it makes you look at him. You notice he’s staring straight at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on and what you aren’t telling him.
“Need some lovin’?” he asks with a certain humorous tone, the joke causing you to glance up at him through your lashes with big eyes.
It seems like only then that he takes notice of your swollen lips, your dilated pupils, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead and the quickened breathing with the way his eyes scan your entire face and the frown on his brows slowly disappearing when the realization dawns on him.
He narrows his eyes at you and his hands leave his pockets, swiftly moving to cross over his chest as his lips twitch, something you can only describe as him trying to stifle a smirk. “You actually asked me to come over so I could come fuck you?”
Your mind travels at incomprehensible speed to come up with an answer, leaving you scrambled and almost stuttering. You blurt out, “It’s your fault.”
This makes his brows pinch together in utter confusion. “How the hell is it my fault?”
A deep sigh pushes past your lips as you drop your arms from your chest, hands resting on your hips as you look at the floor in shame. “I was cleaning shit up and I came across that dumb pink pill you bought that you wanted me to try but never got the chance to,” you explain, peeking up at him through your lashes momentarily before averting your gaze again.
“Pill? What pink pill?” he repeats, the frown on his face deepening further as the word leaves his mouth.
“Yes, that stupid pink pussycat pill, Yoongi. We bought it as a joke to try on our anniversary but then we had that stupid fight.” You try to get him to recall the events of a year ago, the quick wince on his face at the mention of your anniversary fight doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Anyway, I didn’t want it to go to waste and I was wondering what it might feel like or if it even works. So, I took it earlier today, for shits and giggles.”
He slowly nods to your words as the memories come back to him, seemingly remembering how excited he was for you to take that pill. “So, I reckon the pill is doing what it said it would?”
You merely grunt in response.
He’s silent for a few seconds before quietly chuckling, shaking his head. His chuckle is so deep and sultry, it shoots a tingle right down your soaked panties.
You huff, “What’s so amusing, you dickhead?”
He glances at you through his brows for a moment before averting his gaze, his eyes roaming his surroundings as he looks around your once-shared home. “I’m just flattered, is all.”
“Flattered?” you repeat, a disapproving frown on your features. He’s turning this entire thing into a compliment for himself.
You really can’t fucking stand him.
“You could’ve flaunted that pretty face out at some bar and gotten someone to fuck you without needing to offer any favors,” he explains, giving you a glimpse of his thought process, those words making your body heat up all over again.
Damn him.
You know Yoongi has always found you insanely attractive but him so nonchalantly reminding you has set your insides aflame.
“You know I don’t do that stuff,” you mumble with a shake to your head.
His bitter, humorless chuckle booms in your ears. Why does it sound like he’s literally inside your head? “That’s exactly how we met, you dirty liar.” He reminds you of how his hips were slamming into yours an hour after you met him and no rebuttal comes to your mind.
You silently stare at him, bringing your hand up to wipe some of the sweat off your hairline with the back of your index finger.
“Yeah, you know what? I don’t know why I even texted you. You can leave,” you say, a surge of anger coursing through your veins as you reach for the door handle but Yoongi is quicker than you.
His hand quickly reaches for yours, fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist. “I can tell you why you did,” he quips, cockily.
You glare up at him but make no effort to remove his hand from your skin, the single touch of his skin against yours sends lava down all your veins and every single one of your nerve-endings. Fuck, you wish you could pounce him right fucking now. You finally gather your thoughts and say, “Oh, please, do enlighten me.”
“You asked me here because you don’t want all that arousal to go to waste on someone that doesn’t know your body like I do.” He starts closing the gap between you two, face closing in on yours. “They won’t do the things you like.”
Your throat tightens at his proximity and his words, your lungs seconds away from imploding in between your ribcage.
“And you’re too shy to tell them because you know you like filthy things.” He moves his other hand up to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his index finger, his eyes glued to how his finger glides down your skin.
If he noticed his touch instantly awoke the goosebumps on your skin, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to play with your ear, fingers coming down to rub your earlobe in between the pads of his thumb and index finger.
“No one knows your body like I do, no one else.” He drops his hand from your ear to trace the collar of your shirt, the tip of his finger occasionally grazing your neck. “No one knows how filthy you are. How needy you are. How you like to be touched and kissed. That’s how I know,” he concludes.
He adds, “You clearly haven’t moved on.”
He was doing so well, too.
Haven’t moved on? Son of a bitch.
“Yeah, well, what about you?” you blurt out. You watch as his thick eyebrows scrunch together in smug mockery.
“What about me? Don’t turn this on me, sweetheart. You’re the one asking me to come fuck you.” He starts to take off his shoes, kicking them aside like he used to do.
Cocky asshole.
“You showed up 10 minutes after a simple ‘come over’ text, no questions asked.” You remind him of tonight’s events and his face slowly turns into a scowl, his usual quick witty comebacks suddenly nonexistent.
“So what?” he mumbles, not in the mood to fight you for this any longer because he knows he’ll lose.
“Just admit you want this as bad as I do instead of being smart about it,” you say, rolling your eyes as you take a step back to create some more distance between you two. You hadn’t realized he’d gotten that close.
He shrugs his shoulders with an air of nonchalance, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I wouldn’t say as bad as you.”
Right, because you took that pill and your arousal is off the charts.
He must think he’s sooooooo funny.
“You’re a lia–”
Before you can even finish speaking, he takes a step closer and it inevitably traps you in between his body and the wall behind you. He arrogantly adds, “Want me to push my fingers into your panties and check?”
Fuck.
He shouldn’t still have the ability to knock the oxygen right out of your lungs with just silly words. He shouldn’t.
You stare up at him with a furrow in your brows, eyes wide and lips almost quivering, simply at the thought of him touching you. Damn him.
And he knows.
Because his gaze drops to your lips before back to your eyes, the corners of his own lips curling up at something he’s thinking about.
“What?” you grumble, your voice barely coming out and leaving you for dead in your time of need.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head and adds a shrug to his shoulders for extra nonchalance. “I just think after you ran your mouth like this, it’d be more fun to make you beg for it.”
Your hands come up to his chest, pressing flat against him to push him back but he doesn’t budge an inch because there’s no real strength behind the push and he knows it.
“I hate you,” you quietly say, hands still pressed up against his chest with the tiniest bit of pressure to make it seem like you don’t want him.
Unfortunately, Yoongi knows you too well.
“That’s fine, as long as you’re good to me.” The words leave his mouth in a breathy chuckle that drapes over your lips as his face closes in on yours, plump lips grazing the skin of your jaw. “You were always so good to me.”
“Why did you leave me, then?” Your voice comes out a bit choked, a big gulp following your question and it’s almost like you’re attempting to swallow the words back down. You can’t believe you just blurted that out. Is one of the side effects of that dumb pink pill being emotional as hell?
He freezes for a few seconds before pulling away and searching for your eyes. His expression is decorated by a frown and his pretty lips are pressed into a thin line.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, just lets the deafening silence settle around you. Stares at you as if one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries is being revealed to him and the answer is in your irises. Watches as you idly blink at him and it makes his lips twitch. Seems to be in deep thought and you can’t figure out what’s going through his mind for the life of you.
Then, he speaks.
“Why didn’t you stop me?”
His words paired with his intense gaze sends a jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving your legs to wobble like they’re made of jelly.
You both stare at each other for a while in complete silence. His familiar, black, feline eyes staring into yours so intimately summon a vine that wraps around your heart, digging its sharp thorns into your most beloved organ until it bleeds out all over your insides.
He’s right.
You clearly haven’t moved on.
“Let’s just,” you pause and shake your head free of those thoughts. You don’t bother to finish your sentence as you wrap your fingers around his wrist, leading him toward your once-shared bedroom and he simply lets you.
As soon as you walk in, you let go of his hand and reach for the hem of your shirt. You yank it off your body without a second of hesitation before tossing it somewhere on the floor and it makes him chuckle for some reason.
You turn to glare at him. “Something funny?” you snark, arms crossing over your chest like a child that wanted the purple lollipop instead of the yellow one.
He stares at you from the entrance of your room, an amused smile still on his pretty lips. His eyes scan the walls and the furniture as he slowly makes his way in, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I see that you’ve changed the entire room.”
Your eyes follow the direction of his gaze, scanning around the room as if you’d forgotten what you changed about the place. “Yeah.”
He struts toward you, getting so close that he’s practically pressed up against you. His onyx eyes stare you down, one of his infamous unreadable expressions plastered on his face. “Trying to act like I never existed?” he asks, hands still buried in his pockets and fuck, how you wish he would just give in and touch you.
You simply blink up at him, your eyes pingpong-ing between his eyes from left to right continuously as you try to think of a way to answer.
Should you lie? Should you just be honest?
As if on cue, your question is answered when he lazily places his right hand on your hip, pulling you even closer to him.
Be honest.
“No.” You shake your head slightly, never breaking eye contact with the enticing man in front of you. “I was never going to forget about you if everywhere I looked just reminded me of you.”
His hand tenses on your hip, a muscle in his jaw tenses up and your eyes are just in time to catch the way his Adam’s apple bounces up and down.
You shift your eyes back up to his, blinking your eyelids at him so innocently yet so full of temptation. He slowly starts nodding his head as if he just had an epiphany and then moves his hand from your hip to your waist.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles onto your bare skin.
You shrug your shoulders smugly. “Thought you’d never ask.”
He doesn’t need anything else. His lips are on top of yours the moment the words leave your mouth, teeth clashing at how quickly he lunges at you.
His mouth devours you like a man starved as his other hand grips the back of your head to keep you in his grasp, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.
Several soft moans resound in your throat that he simply swallows, hand balling into a fist on the back of your head, gripping your hair at the root.
You mewl, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps as you try to grind your hips into his. Fuck, you’re like a fucking animal in heat.
“Fuck, I’m barely touching you and you’re this needy,” he whispers against your open mouth before shoving his tongue back in.
Your insides are set ablaze when he starts pushing you backwards with his own body until your calves hit the mattress and automatically makes you fall backwards, dropping onto your bed.
He wastes no time climbing on top of you, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat to the strap of your bra as he gently starts tugging them off your shoulders.
You automatically arch your back off the mattress, encouraging him to unclasp your bra and he does.
Whilst he unclasps your bra, he coats your collarbones in soft kisses and absentmindedly throws your bra to the side as he brings his hand back up to fondle your breast in his large hand.
“Fuck,” you whisper, every single inch of his touch electrifies your body and sets your soul alight. Damn, you’ve missed this.
His thumb gently teases your erect nipple, rolling it around whilst he continues to nibble on the skin of your neck.
Your hips involuntarily buck upwards into nothing and you almost flinch at the way his breath grazes your neck when Yoongi softly chuckles, clearly finding your extreme level of arousal amusing.
“Can you just stop teasing me?” you whine, legs spreading wider and wider without a second thought.
“You’re gonna have to ask a lot nicer if you want me to do that, sugar.” He lifts his head off your shoulder and closes in on your other breast, wrapping his lips around it whilst his hand slowly travels down your stomach to your clothed sex. He starts sucking on your nipple and the effects of that pill makes it so it feels like he’s touching you all over, on every part of your body, on every inch of your skin. Causes you to squirm and moan under him like a fish separated from a body of water.
“Fuck,” he chuckles, “I should’ve made you take that pill so fucking long ago. Look at you.”
You simply grumble, “Fuck you.”
He lifts his head off your breast to stare at you directly in the eyes and you instantly regret running your mouth. “Yoongi, I just want–”
Smack!
“Ow!” you cry out, the warmth of the slap on your pussy spreading through your skin like wildfire. You instantly whimper, “I’m sorry.”
The apology means nothing to him, though.
He shakes his head. “Always running that fucking mouth of yours.” His fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts and he slides them down your legs before tossing them aside like he has personal beef with the article of clothing.
“Holy shit,” he whispers as he glances at the massive wet patch on your panties and all the slick smeared around your inner thighs, eyes practically bulging out of his eye sockets.
You can’t help but frown, though. “What?”
“No wonder,” he says, seemingly answering his own unspoken question. “You are completely soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking horny.”
You whine, tucking your thumbs under the hem of your panties to drag them down your legs and he doesn’t even try to stop you, just simply stares at you in awe but your panties don’t budge an inch when you stop and decide to just give in, in hopes he’ll fall for your tricks.
“Please, just,” you yelp, “fuck me. Please. I think I’ll die if you don’t.”
He throws his head back as he laughs, his gorgeous neck on full display for you. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Yoongi,” you pause, “I’m so fucking serious. I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day. I need you to. Please.”
He searches your face and seemingly takes note of the desperation and earnestness in your eyes. Shortly after, he drags his gaze down your exposed body, simply staring at your naked figure.
Sprawled out on your bed, lips swollen, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin, pupils dilated, breasts bare with nipples standing at attention and your arousal that has already started dripping onto your sheets.
He slowly starts to nod his head and in the blink of an eye, he yanks his own shirt off.
The view of his bare chest brings back so many memories, all the times he fucked you good come rushing back to you and it isn’t fucking helping your case.
A persistent lump forms in your throat that refuses to disappear but that’s when you realize that it’s not just a lump but words. The words ‘I miss you’ are forcing their way to the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill.
But you absolutely refuse to let that happen.
Just bite your tongue.
“All day, huh?” he muses, talking more to himself. He quickly ditches his sweatpants in the meantime and tosses them off the bed. “What took you so long to text me?”
You silently watch as he crawls back over to you in just his black boxers, settling right next to your body and supporting his own weight with his elbow while his other hand returns to your panties. Teasingly plays with the hem. Presses his lips against your neck. Inhales your scent.
You stay quiet for a few moments, eyes shut tightly at the tip of his fingers brushing against your pelvis. So close yet so far. “My pride,” you finally reply.
He simply chuckles at your words and slowly tucks his fingers under the hem of your panties, groaning when the back of his knuckles brush against the sticky patch of your arousal on the inside of your panties. “I don’t think I’ve seen this amount of wetness. Not even in porn.”
His skin finally makes contact with your sex, running right up your wet slit and collecting all of your arousal on the tip of his finger. “Holy fucking shit, Y/N.”
You mewl, hips already thrusting up into his hand but he simply uses his palm to press down on your pelvis.
“Stay still.” The demand makes your insides twist into a wringed out shirt and makes your pussy clench around nothing.
“I can’t,” you whimper, legs shaking at the simple touch of his fingers smearing your arousal all over your sex. “I’m trying to but I can’t.”
It’s like you have no control over your body whatsoever. You just want to be fucked.
“Why can’t you?” he quips as he plunges two fingers right into you, groaning when your slick walls tightly hug his fingers. He already knows, he just likes to push your buttons.
“Because I want you,” you breathe out, moaning at the sensation of his fingers slowly pumping into you. Your sensitivity is off the fucking charts, just his fingers being buried in your pussy without any movement whatsoever could have you cumming in no time.
“I can tell,” he cockily chuckles. His sultry laugh is so full of mockery, the type that would usually piss you the fuck off but in this moment turns you the fuck on. “I just need to prep you, baby. Can’t be hurting you simply because you’re writhing like an animal in heat.”
You quickly shake your head. “I don’t need any fucking prep,” you moan as his hand picks up in pace. “Please, just fuck me. I’m already wetter than I’ve ever been. You literally just said it yourself.”
He lifts his head off your collarbones and searches your eyes for a moment, a stern frown on his brows. “Are you sure?”
Yoongi’s always been into manhandling you and being rough but only when it’s pleasurable for you. He’d usually go down on you or work you towards an orgasm using just his fingers, in hopes it’d have you ready to take him.
So, no, he’s not used to just jumping in and fucking you.
You quickly nod your head. “Never been more sure.”
He stares at you for a moment longer but the sincerity in your eyes is prominent. He then simply spreads your folds with his sticky fingers, smearing your arousal all over your sex before pulling his fingers out of your pussy, the sounds leaving your sex almost embarrassing you.
He slides his hand out of your panties and glances at his hand, eyes scanning his fingers coated in your pussy slick.
“Fuck, look at that,” he whispers but doesn’t even grant you the time to look when he immediately shoves his fingers into his mouth, sucking all your arousal off his digits.
“Yoongi,” you whine, clenching around nothing as you watch him.
“Fuck, princess,” he grunts as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. “It’s been too long. I’m gonna need to eat that.”
You want to protest but he’s already pulling you toward him by your thighs, settling in between them as he’s now face to face with your slick-covered panties.
“I want to be fucked,” you whine, staring down at him between your legs but his eyes are just focused on your panties.
He replies, “And I want to fucking eat you out so you’re gonna have to be patient, you little brat.”
You don’t have the time to whine any more when he pushes your panties to the side and the single action could have you coming undone, right here, right now.
He idly stares at your glistening pussy like he’s Monkey D. fucking Luffy and he found the One Piece after years of venturing the seas.
“Why are you staring like that?” you quietly ask, unfortunately not possessing enough strength to close your thighs out of self-consciousness.
With a simple shake of his head, his face closes in on your sex and he licks a long stripe up your pussy, collecting a great amount of your arousal in a single swipe of his hungry tongue.
But you’re oozing so much wetness that he simply keeps going, licking all around your sex before focusing on your swollen, angry clit. He wraps his lips around your sensitive pleasure nub and starts sucking, coating his entire chin in your juices.
“Fuck!” you cry, reaching over to pull on his roots, fingers tangled in his soft black locks.
The sensitivity you’re experiencing is too much. “I’m gonna fucking cum, Yoongi.” You’re not even joking.
“Already?” he hums in mockery before wrapping his lips around your clit again and sucks some more with no regard of overstimulating you.
You quickly nod your head and within the next few seconds, you’re cumming all over his tongue and around his mouth. A cry rips through your throat and you’re sobbing at this point, pulling so hard on his roots that it causes him to hiss in pain.
Grinding your hips up into his face, into his nose, into his mouth. You can’t believe how quickly that stupid pink pill has you levitating off the bed, it’s like you don’t even belong on Earth anymore.
The orgasm hits you like none ever before, leaving you even more sensitive. You came within barely, what? A minute of stimulation? Two? Oh, you’re so done for.
You push against Yoongi’s head in hopes he’ll stop and he does—after giving your swollen clit one last slurp.
“Holy shit.” You can’t believe that just happened.
“That was really fast. What was that? A minute? A minute and 30 seconds?” he laughs as he sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“It’s that fucking pill,” you mumble defensively, trying to catch your breath.
A low chuckle leaves his mouth before he glances down at the bulge in his boxers. “Well,” he pauses, “you should take that pill more often.”
You roll your eyes with all the brattiness you can muster, hoping it annoys him as much as he annoys you. “This is the last time I’m even letting you in here, I hope you know that.”
His eyes shift back up to yours and he tilts his head to the side in question, blinking at you with a glimmer in his eyes that you can’t quite describe.
You stare back, trying your best not to look fucked out right now but you know you’re failing horribly at it when he simply shakes his head and lets out a bitter chuckle.
“You just wanted to use me one last time, hm?” he scoffs as his fingers tuck under the hem of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs and tossing them off the bed.
A surge of guilt spreads through your chest when you realize how that must’ve sounded to him. “You know that’s not what I meant, Yoongi.”
“No?” he muses, placing his hands on the back of your thighs before pushing them all the way against the mattress on each side of your body. You know your body isn’t supposed to be able to do this, apparent by the strain in your inner thighs but for some reason, it doesn’t bother you as much.
“No,” you whimper as he uses his own weight to keep your thighs spread, sliding his rock hard dick in between your folds handsfree, but not entering you just yet. It has you squeezing your eyelids shut, trying to focus on the feeling of his rock hard cock—all the ridges and veins on his dick—rubbing so good against your swollen clit.
“I don’t believe you,” he says, watching as you squirm from the slightest bit of friction that he has full control over. It makes you want to smack that grin right off his face.
“I swear,” you sniff, not even being able to thrust your hips up for more friction because Yoongi’s weight and strength keeps you restrained.
He simply hums in response, continuing to slide his dick over your slit, completely coating his shaft in your slick. “If you want me to believe you,” he pauses as his eyes shift up to yours, “you’re going to have to beg and convince me. Tell me how what you just said isn’t true.”
“Please,” you say, no hesitation. “Please, I didn’t mean that. I–just fuck me. I swear I don’t want anyone else to be in your position right now, I only want you. No one else knows me like you, no one.”
He continues to simply watch your face twist in borderline agony from the lack of friction, the sensation you so desperately crave.
“That so?” His tone is filled with so much arrogance that it makes your veins burn with lava.
You merely hum in response and finally crack your eyelids open, just to see him staring into your eyes with that familiar glint in his. Fuck.
“Ready?” he whispers, lining his tip up with your hole and cockily chuckles when you eagerly nod your head.
He abruptly freezes. “Ah, fuck, wait.” His dick is not on your slit anymore and it makes you frown at him.
“What?”
He groans, “I have no condoms.”
For fuck’s sake.
“I mean,” you start, “you’re the last person I had sex with. Did you have sex with anyone after me?”
You’re not sure you even want to hear about it but in this moment you’d do anything to just have him finally fuck the shit out of you.
He avoids your gaze as he keeps it glued to his dick sliding up and down your slit. “I have.”
Oh.
“But it was protected, always,” he adds with a quickness, tone calculated and quiet.
Oh.
Okay.
That’s good but it doesn’t make you feel any better.
You have to swallow your emotions at this moment because your pussy is basically screaming at you to just swallow your pride. “Okay, then just do it without.”
He peers up at you through his thick brows with a frown. “Are you sure?”
You mumble, “For fuck’s sake.” Your hand quickly reaches for his shaft but he slaps it away just as quickly.
“I know you’re horny as fuck but I need you to be 100%,” he pauses when he sees you glaring at his dick. “Look at me, dammit.”
Your eyes shift to his and you childishly groan. “Yes, Yoongi, I 100% consent to letting you fuck me raw. Now, will you please just–”
He doesn’t even let you finish talking as he slides his dick right into you, bottoming out completely. You yelp at the intrusion, your slick walls stretching around his shaft so well, like it always has.
“Holy shit,” he whispers with closed eyes, the disgusting squelching coming from your sexes is proof of your arousal and the moans falling from his lips as your pussy tightly hugs him sounds like a choir of angels sustaining a high C.
You try to keep quiet, you try not to squirm, you try not to say the craziest things right now. Like ‘I love you’, or ‘I’ve missed you so much’ because you’re just horny and dumb.
“Move,” you whimper, needing more than he’s giving you right now. He hears you loud and clear, sliding out of you and right back in. The disgusting squelching reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to care at the moment, not when Yoongi finds it hot and throws in occasional ‘fuck, listen to that’s and ‘you’re so fucking wet’s.
You cuss, eyes rolling to the back of your head when your sensitivity reaches its peak. A few more thrusts will already have you cumming, you’re sure of it.
He continues to thrust, slowly starting to pick up his pace and he finally cracks his eyelids open. His eyes find yours as he stares at you—scanning your pretty face that he loves to look at—especially when it’s twisted in pleasure like that.
Brows furrowed, lips swollen, pupils dilated, mouth agape, a thin layer of sweat draped over your forehead and building up in your hairline.
Somewhere along the line, the eye contact becomes too intense for you. Your hand snakes around the back of his head, closing the distances between you two by pulling him closer to you, licking and sucking on the honey tinted skin of his neck.
After a while of sucking and nipping at his neck and his thrusts never coming to a halt, your orgasm starts approaching you rapidly again. “I’m gonna cum,” you cry, tears pricking in your eyes from the pure pleasure that’s setting all your insides ablaze.
“Already?” he murmurs as he leans down, kissing away the tears that have subtly started rolling down your temples. “But I have yet to ruin you.”
Fuck.
“Whatever, though. I guess you’re just going to lose count of the amount of orgasms I’ll fuck you through.” He states it so nonchalantly because he knows only he could ever make you feel like this, make you desperate like this, make you a needy mess like this.
His hips continue to harshly snap into yours, the indescribable sensation of being fucked at this angle and pace has your thighs clenching. Unsurprisingly not long after, your orgasm hits you full force once again.
A sob rips through your throat, your trembling hands grab at his shoulders, nails painfully digging into his skin as he fucks you through your high. His low chuckle rings in your ear, breath hitting your throat as he lowers his face into the crook of your neck.
“Cumming all over my dick and sucking marks on my neck. Are you trying to claim me again?” he whispers, knowing how possessiveness was big a turn on for the both of you back in your relationship.
You simply cry under him, the orgasm lasting longer than any you’ve ever had before. His dick kisses your cervix repeatedly, your breasts bounce continuously from the momentum of his thrusts and the sound of his skin slapping yours only increases in volume the longer he fucks you.
“I asked you something,” he says, lifting his head off your shoulder to stare down at you. “Where’d that bratty mouth that I love so much go?”
You simply grunt in response, teary eyes glaring at him as you slowly come down from your high. The corners of his lips curl up in a twisted smirk at the sight in front of him, you know he enjoys seeing you in this state and him being the sole cause of it pleases him greatly.
The overstimulation is starting to catch up to you. Your hand basically moves on its own, pressing flat into his lower abdomen in order to get him to slow down.
However, it means nothing to him. He simply continues to thrust into you like he’s got something to prove. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you want to claim me again?” he repeats.
You mewl, sinking your cranium further into your soft pillows, exposing more of your throat and neck to him as tears continue to pour out of your eyes.
“Fuck you,” you whimper, digging your nails into the skin around his belly button but it doesn’t elicit a single reaction from him.
He simply chuckles at your snarky comment as he lowers his lips onto your throat, sucking and nipping at it. You know he expected you to say that. No one else knows you like the back of their hand like he does.
“There’s my girl,” he mumbles against your skin. His words paired with the simple act of kissing your neck has all your insides clenching and twisting with something you can’t quite describe.
Butterflies?
Something you’re not going to admit out loud.
“I don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, though.” With one more thrust, he pulls out of you and harshly flips you onto your stomach. You don’t even have the time to react when he gently grabs your hips yet roughly hoists your ass up off the mattress.
A sharp sting spreads through your asscheek and that’s when you realize his rough hand came down on your bum, spanking you hard.
“Ow!” you screech in pain yet pleasure, every vein in your body pumping blood faster and faster as you anticipate exactly why, of all people, you called Yoongi over.
He doesn’t even give you the time to come down from that spanking before he gives you another one. And another one. And another one.
“You ask me to come over after not talking to me for months, then beg me to fuck you. I give you what you want and you still have the audacity to be so rude to me?” He clicks his tongue loudly and immediately after the scolding, spanks you yet again. “Biting the hand that feeds you. Tsk. I should cum in that filthy mouth of yours for talking to me like this.”
He shoves his dick back inside without a warning and continues to assault your poor asscheeks, rough palms continuously coming down to your ass in loud smacks.
You hoarsely cry out under him, most likely from the embarrassment because thanks to that damn pill you might cum from just being spanked at this point.
As if he heard your thoughts, the spanking comes to an end and his hands are now flat on your back, keeping you pressed into the mattress with his weight while he starts fucking into you again. “You like getting fucked from the back, right?”
Your ass bounces back against his hips with each thrust, adding more and more sensations to your body. You’re not going to last for very much longer.
He mumbles, “No, that’s not it.” He leans forwards, pressing his chest into your back, lips grazing the shell of your ear and he places his hands against the mattress on each side of your waist, supporting his own weight. “You just love being fucked like a slut.”
Fuck.
“Isn’t that right? You don’t care in what position you get fucked in, as long as you’re getting fucked, hm? Like the horny slut you are.” He remembers exactly what you like and it’s embarrassing. “My slut, though. No one else’s.”
And you admit that yes, you wouldn't just want any stranger to talk to you like this.
It only works with Yoongi because he knows you. Because he understands you. Because he loves you.
Or he did once, at least.
But him showing up at your front door, no questions asked, 10 minutes after you asked him to, might be proof of something you both are trying to deny. Not like it matters.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you moan. You’ve already lost count but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s fucking you so good.
“Cumming so quickly from just being talked to like this. I bet you’ve missed my filthy mouth just as much as I missed yours,” he whispers into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin in a way only a lover should. “I fucking love it.”
The soft kissing and the low volume of his voice are a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips and the degrading words leaving his lips.
And you can’t help but love it.
“Tell me I’m right,” he demands as he picks up the pace, snaking one hand around to wrap around your throat and pull you up until the back of your head collides with his shoulder. “Tell me it’s true.”
Now with your orgasm approaching, he knows you’d do anything to get there.
He knows you too well.
“Fuck, I love it!” you cry as your nth orgasm washes over you, your body violently jerking under him from the overstimulation you’re experiencing.
“I know you do,” he chuckles as he fucks you through your orgasm. “That’s my girl. My fuckin’ girl.”
Fuck.
He has no idea what those words do to you.
Well, it’s Yoongi. He definitely knows what it’s doing to you.
Because you are not his girl. Not anymore.
But you don’t have the energy to correct him nor do you want to. Because at this moment, it feels like the two of you never separated. Like you never spent a day apart. All of the nostalgia, love and hate comes rushing back to you. Surely it’s that stupid pink pill’s fault.
He pulls out in a swift motion and turns you onto your side before he lies down behind you on his side as well, chest pressed into your back as he pulls you closer.
Fuck, how many positions is he going to fuck you in? Is he making up for all the time you spent apart?
Now that you’re in spooning position, he gently places his hand under your thigh and lifts it up to spread your legs. His hand leaves your thigh as he uses the same hand to guide his dick to your pussy again.
Your thigh almost wants to give out and drop, your chest still dramatically rising and falling as you chase your breath.
Another cocky chuckle rumbles in his chest at how you struggle to even move now, his hot breath draping over your neck and his hand returning to the same spot on your inner thigh as he lifts your leg again and pushes into you.
Your head falls back, falling deeper into his embrace and he welcomes that by pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “I don’t know how I survived all those months without y–” he pauses, “your pussy.”
Hmph. He’s the pussy if he doesn’t want to admit he misses you.
But then again, he was never that type. Yoongi was never the type to show his love through words but rather through actions and services, he had difficulties expressing his affection with words.
Like when it took him a year to say ‘I love you’ yet everyday after he came home from an exhausting day at work, he’d pull your feet into his lap and massage them in hopes of offering you some kind of relief.
Or when the topic of wedding vows came up and he said he finds them useless yet he’d buy you a fresh set of bouquets every week until down to the very week you broke up.
Or when he’d place a glass of water on your nightstand everyday when he left for work, whether he fucked the shit out of you the night before or not.
Yoongi always just showed you.
And now that he’s balls deep in your pussy, now that the effects of that pill are clouding your mind, now that his proximity is distorting your mind and setting all your nerve-endings alight again, you have to consciously stop yourself from asking him to come back home—back to you.
Your mind is so distorted that you don’t even recall the bad moments or the reason for your break up right now. You just miss him.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers in your ear, thrusting his hips into you at a considerably slower pace but by no means lacking in strength and passion.
“Like I’m fucking floating on a cloud,” you mumble back, body almost falling limp at his proximity and his dick rubbing your walls so deliciously.
He simply chuckles, “That’s what I like to hear.”
He continues to fuck into you, occasionally groaning and fondling your breast. “Fuck,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck.
“Yoongi, I–”
“I know.”
You don’t even know.
You don’t even know what you were going to say.
But his confident ‘I know’ proves to you that he knows.
Thanks to his slow pace, it takes your orgasm a little longer to approach and thank fuck for that.
“I’m gonna cum soon,” he tells you, rubbing your tummy from the back. “Where do you want it?”
“I don’t care where you cum as long as you kiss me during it.”
Damn. Why the fuck would you say that?
Great. He just abruptly stopped thrusting. You’re such a fucking idiot.
You would have never been able to admit this if you didn’t take that stupid pill or even if you weren’t facing him with your back.
He swiftly pulls out and wraps his fingers around your bicep to turn you around, making you face him now. Still in spooning position but this time facing each other, he pulls you close, lifting your leg onto his hip as he guides his dick back into you and propping your head up on his bicep.
His hand finds its way back to your asscheek and squeezes the soft skin in his rough hand as he pulls you even closer, pressing your chest right into his.
“Cum with me, baby. You’re doing so good.”
He’s so mean for doing this. So mean for the things he says, so mean for fucking you exactly as you like it, so mean for making you feel like you still belong to him. Like he belongs to you.
He thrusts his hips into you faster and sure enough, the effects of the pill get to work because your stomach starts twisting from the inside immediately after the change of pace and his request of cumming together.
Your fucked out eyes meet his determined ones, staring into those black bottomless pits of his as he chases his own release.
He simply stares back, eyes occasionally dropping to your lips. In this moment, his eyes are everywhere you look, his breath hits every inch of your skin, his hand on your hip holds you so tightly that you think be might crack your hipbone. He’s inside your head. He’s everywhere. He’s everything.
It seems like he wants to say something but his attention gets disrupted by the sound of something buzzing on the nightstand behind you.
It’s his phone.
He tears his eyes away from yours, reaching for it whilst still being inside of you and by the guilty look on his face, it doesn’t take a genius to decipher it must be someone whose arms and bed he found comfort in after separating from you.
When he thinks you must’ve realized, he tosses his phone off the bed and returns his attention to you.
But he doesn’t owe you anything. Not an explanation. Not an apology. Not even love.
It’s quiet for a few moments, just your occasional soft moaning and his heavy breathing as you close your eyes to avoid his gaze.
Until you crack your eyelids open again and find out he’s been staring at you the entire time. Your walls tightly clench around him again, indicating your orgasm is close. “Just call me your girl again,” you whisper, allowing the vulnerability to escape your system once again.
Dumb bitch.
“You are. You are my girl,” is all he says before pressing his lips against yours as promised, grabbing a handful of your asscheek as he snaps his hips into yours and forces his tongue into your mouth.
You let his tongue force itself past your swollen lips, crying into his mouth as another orgasm sends electricity down all your limbs, making your brain explode with ridiculous amounts of dopamine and launching you straight to your Utopia.
You murmur some shit into his mouth that even you don’t understand, voice coming and going whenever it pleases, more and more slick gushing out of your completely drenched pussy. Tears continue to escape and roll down your temples, your nose is runny, your voice is hoarse.
A soft moan resounds in Yoongi’s throat when his own orgasm hits him, thrusts getting inconsistent and rough as he starts painting your walls with his warm cum, groaning loudly into your mouth which you happily welcome.
This is otherworldly.
Nothing will ever feel like this moment right here and you’re not sure whether you’ve accepted that yet.
He fucks both of you through your orgasms, pumping his load into you like it belongs inside of you and fuck, have you missed the feeling.
With a few more sloppy thrusts, creating a mess everywhere, his thrusting comes to a halt yet he never stops kissing you.
He curls his arm so your head shifts on his bicep even closer towards his face, keeping his dick buried in you, eliciting a simple sigh in content from the ex-girlfriend in his arms.
After an extra few minutes of nonstop making out with a man that was once yours, you’re the one that pulls away. Your stomach clenches with something you can’t describe when you watch him still chase your lips until he realizes you’ve pulled away, making him slowly open his eyes.
Is it guilt? Is it desire? Is it regret?
Fuck. Fuck. This whole idea just wasn’t smart.
You did your best to rid yourself of the stain he planted on you, closing the mark where he sunk his fangs so deeply into your skin, into your soul. You’re letting him reopen it and you’re so damn fucking stupid for it.
And you don’t understand why he’s the only one you want. No one else.
He stares at you for a moment before pressing his forehead against yours, still trying to catch his breath.
You stay unmoved for a few more moments before he delicately pecks your lips again and gently pulls his softening dick out of you, your nose scrunching when his load starts to leak out of you and onto your sheets.
He doesn’t say much else as he gets up from your bed, eyes searching the floor for something before he hunches over and slides his boxers back up his legs.
He leaves your bedroom without another word, making you simply frown at the ceiling but he quickly reappears with a glass of water and a damp towel.
He hasn’t changed a bit.
He takes care of you like nothing’s changed, cleaning your body up, changing the sheets while you don’t move a muscle, tucking you under the fresh covers and making sure you drink your water before opening the windows in an attempt to get some fresh air after you’ve fogged up the windows in the room.
He sits at the edge of your bed, gently tracing your hairline with the tip of his finger. “How are you feeling?”
If only he knew.
Your mouth slightly curls at the corners, a lazy smile plastered on your lips. “I feel amazing.”
Another sultry chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head in agreement.
This is nice.
But your mind changes when you silently watch him rising to his feet and slowly reaching for his clothes.
Ugh.
You’ve been vulnerable enough.
You asked him to come do one thing and he did it. You can’t ask much more of him.
But your heart works faster than your brain.
“Can you stay the night?” you quietly ask, fidgeting with your fingers under the sheets, relieved that he can’t see.
He glances at you over his shoulder, a frown on his brows. It seems like he thinks about it for a moment before parting pretty his lips to say, “What?”
Fuck.
Your voice goes even quieter, thinking of a way to reformulate the question. “Do you want to stay the night?”
He idly blinks at you, eyes staring straight into your soul as if you just asked him the most absurd question that you could’ve asked him. “Do you want me to?”
The neutral tone of his voice simply makes you shrug your shoulders in response, avoiding his intense gaze that always makes you feel like no one else exists in his mind but you.
Stupid.
“Y/N,” says Yoongi, quietly. Your eyes twinkle up at him, the clear look of a dilemma plastered on your face. He closes the distance between you two, hovering over your body before repeating his question with a bit more bluntness. “Do you want me to?”
Your swollen bottom lip is trapped between your teeth, veins pumping with anxiety and anticipation.
You sniffle a bit in hopes that it makes the tension and silence less awkward. “Yeah.”
Your eyes trail his features, remembering how gorgeous he actually is. How could you ever forget? His thick brows, his sharp eyes, his plump lips, his soft nose, his beautiful hair.
The next few words that leave his mouth rip you right out of your thoughts.
“Then I’ll stay,” he pauses, “for however long you want me to.”
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burning desire
10.3k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader
Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3
summary: An argument with your mother before family dinner leaves Joel worried about you. He sneaks you away to grab a drink and talk about what’s on your mind.
warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, soft-hot-protective!joel, rocky mother-daughter relationship (this one ain't for the weak - mommy issues galore) & discussions of verbal fighting, slight clues of abandonment issues, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, praise!kink activated, unprotected p in v (yes finally, the edging is over), mentions of birth control, slight cockwarming if you squint, slight degradation kink
A/N: I crave three things after writing this chapter: Joel, Joel Miller, Joel fucking Miller. Also, I’m almost done with The Last of Us Part 1 :(( sad that it’s ending, but it’s been so much fun to play! Enjoy this chapter <3
Your parents make good on their invitation and ask Joel over for dinner. A steak dinner, to be exact. Paired with wine, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a pie your parents picked up from the local bakery in town.
You sort of hope Joel pulls out his long list of excuses to evade any awkwardness.
Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m finishin’ up somethin’ for work. Can’t wait another day.
Or,
Hey, maybe another night. Not feelin’ too hot.
When in reality, it’s more like,
I can’t come over for dinner tonight because I might bend your daughter over my truck if I see her again.
As active as you and Joel have been, you have yet to hit a home run in lewd baseball terms. In fact, all the bases in your and Joel’s game were totally screwed up. You hit third base before you hit first, and you weren’t even sure if there was a second base. It was all just so confusing now.
But you wanted the home run, you wanted Joel, you desired him in that light. You wondered if he was ready for it.
Screwed over by your father asking Joel over for dinner and screwed over by Joel agreeing, you had no other choice but to sit through it and act like everything was normal.
And everything was normal for the first half of the day before you and your mother got into it.
The argument was recycled. You wished she would come up with better material. But it always came down to what you wanted to do after this summer since you recently graduated. And that was an ongoing war.
After two door slams, your mother retreating to her bunker, and you finding shelter in the bathroom, you’d say today’s battle was over.
You sit on the floor, bare feet touching cold tile. In a way, it soothes your shaky body.
No matter how old you get, this feeling never seems to waver with its intensity. The feeling that no one’s listening, no matter how hard you scream for them to hear you. Regardless of how often you have these conversations, you become a small child again, being scolded and told that what you thought and wanted wasn’t right.
You managed to collect your journal expertly hidden in your bedroom before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom. You flip open the pages with teary eyes.
You wish you didn’t have to admit that this was your safe space. On the bathroom floor, back flushed against the dark wood door as you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing.
June 17th
2:28 P.M.
Mom started a fight with me about not traveling again. She says it’s crucial for me to start my career immediately. I don’t even know what I want to be yet.
You have to pause to blink back tears. You wish you had your life figured out like it felt everyone else did.
Why does she have to care so much that I want to leave for a little bit? It’s not like it’s forever. There’s so much more out there. I’ve studied miscellaneous classes for four years and want a break. Why do we always have to have this conversation over and over again? She always asks how I will take care of student loans and bills. I have repeatedly told her that I’ve been saving up for a while to do this. She keeps saying she wants what’s best for me and doesn’t want me to start my career too late. She says it’s hard to let me go.
I love her, and I appreciate her support through school, but school is what taught me about independence as well as academics. I want to live my life and have experiences you can only get by leaving home for a little bit. Maybe then I’ll better understand what I want for my future.
Your writing pauses, and you stare straight ahead at the beige wall, blurry eyes reading another cheesy sign.
Bathroom - Open 24 Hours - Seat Yourself.
You decide to spare a moment of your mother’s casualties and pencil in something else that’s been recently stirring.
I’ve been seeing Joel Miller casually since the start of this summer. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. It’s weird -- but in a way, it’s also not? He’s older by like a mile, but he’s familiar, comfortable. Easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. I’m not trying to read too much into it, but this summer sucks less because of Joel. Whether he knows it or not.
---
You and your mother work around each other while setting up dinner in the backyard garden. She steps back inside to grab more wine glasses.
You’ve put on a nice summer dress. The hem lands somewhere on your thighs and flows with the breeze. After sobbing on the cold bathroom tile for an hour, you don't feel very pretty, but eating outside and soaking up some fresh air might make you feel better.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Joel Miller was the largest, broadest, lumberjack-est man you had ever met, but he moved as quietly as a mouse. Your eyes blink a few times as you haphazardly set down the bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table.
“Hi.”
Your voice is raw and red, softer than usual. Joel seems to instantly take notice. You see it in the way his eyes soften. He moves a little closer, hands resting on the back of one of the white outdoor dining chairs.
Your face probably reads more panicky than intended. He picks up on your faulty mood and assumes the worst.
“Do they.. Do they know?” He asks, eyebrows knitted with a deep furrow in between.
Your eyes go doe-ish, shaking your head and occupying your hands with a spare cloth napkin.
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He takes one long look over your being and you feel it in the space between you.
Somethin’s wrong.
Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Joel.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing on you more.
Suddenly, you felt exposed. Like someone had ripped the curtain open on you. No one had ever seen right through you like this before. It was unsettling, but god, you just wanted to lean right into it.
If your parents weren’t just inside, you’d walk right into his front and curl your head in his chest just under the hook of his chin. You’d close your eyes and wrap your small arms around his waist.
He’d encircle you in his big, protective arms and shield you from the pain you’ve felt today. You’d listen to his heart thrumming against his chest, using the rhythm to try and slow down your breathing while he whispers to you in his sweet southern drawl.
S’alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I see you tryin’.
His eyes flitter into light again, ease passing across his features.
“Like the dress.” He looks over you with a condescending little smirk. This man has never seen you in a dress in your life.
“Shut up. It’s just for dinner.”
He lets out a cocky little tut. “‘Cause you knew I was comin’ over?”
When you look up at him again, his hand gently rests over yours. You don’t have time to appreciate it; the sliding back door opens, and your father’s big booming laughter shakes the nearby lake. Joel’s subtle touch is instantly gone.
“Joel! So good to see you! Hey, great bonfire a few weeks ago.”
You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from the shop talk. You don’t want to be alone with your mother in the house, but the table still needs to be set up. You work around each other in silence. She grabs the salad, you grab the dinner rolls and green beans. You could hear a pin drop.
---
Dinner would have been better if you had an appetite. You spent the majority of your time making a tilled farm field out of your mashed potatoes. You’d flatten out your helping with a fork and then gently run the fork’s ribs through the moldable potatoes and create little crop lines out of it. You don’t always play with your food, but you weren’t really up for conversation. Your mother takes notice. She hates it. She hates that you were letting your personal problems exist in the company of others.
The only time you looked up even slightly was when Joel started talking. Sort of a calm in an unknown storm, you suppose. He looked so handsome without even really trying. You wore a crooked smile as you looked over the dark green button-up he was wearing. It was starting to be your favorite color, he wore it so well.
There were points where your parents would turn to each other. And Joel would turn to you. It was sort of a silent check-in.
Under the protection of the table, his hand found your knee, his big fingers lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It was the first time you cracked a real smile all dinner. Your hand ghosted over his, your nails lightly running soothing, slow lines on the underside of his wrist by his watch.
You doin’ okay?
Mhm.
It didn’t dawn on you that Joel might have felt he did something to cause your saddened mood. And this was his way of asking. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling his fingers lightly interlock with yours over your knee. Your eyelashes flutter at the warmth it propels through your body. It was just what you needed. Everything was going to be okay.
---
You’re working over a stubborn steak juice stain on a plate as the sun sets over the lake and glistens a soft yellow-orange hue through the windows in the kitchen. Your parents are moving around you while you rinse the dishes, back turned to them as they spoke in mundane conversation and pack up leftovers.
You don’t see him, but you can feel Joel’s presence as he enters the doorway. He watches you. He watches your parents. You wonder what he sees. The next thing you know, he’s shaking your parents hands and bidding them goodnight.
He stops at you. As the running faucet splashes against a few forks and a wine glass, you spare him a glance.
“Walk me out?” Your parents take notice of his ask. And not in the way you expect.
You tilt back and forth on your feet, looking back to the dishes. You really just wanted to finish what was left to clean and read in your room for the rest of the night.
“Uhm-”
“Go on and walk him out, honey. We’ll see you soon, Joel. Thanks for stoppin’ in.”
Your eyes go from Joel’s, to your parents. If they were anything, at least they were oblivious.
You and your mother share a look before she sighs and exits the kitchen. Your jaw loosens, not even realizing how hard you were grinding your teeth while looking at her.
“Yeah. Okay.” Your murmured voice is barely audible above the gushing sink faucet. After you set the plate on the drying rack and smear your wet hands on a dish towel, you walk Joel outside.
The night breeze off the lake sets in a layer of goosebumps up your arms.
Joel’s boots scuff against the gravel and dirt in his driveway, his footsteps pausing at his truck and turning to face you.
The rising moon and setting sun work in unison to highlight his aquiline nose and silver-sprinkled jawline. He’s charmingly handsome. Rugged features meet a stone facade.
You take a hesitant look back into the house. The kitchen light is still on, but no one is in the small windows.
“You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on with you?” He crosses his arms, cocking his leg out as he leans his weight onto one of his hips.
You muster up a shrug and fold your hands around your arms to keep the light chill away. It felt like you couldn’t tell the truth, the house and your parents inside watching over you. The pressure of it all makes your shoulders lurch up a bit into your neck.
But Joel continues to press you. You’re making him nervous, you think, because he’s not accustomed to seeing you so quiet.
“Are you..” His words falter and fall off, and you can see the frown creased into his mouth. “You’re wantin’ t’stop seein’ each other?”
“What?” Now you’re the one frowning, closing the gap between you and Joel and taking him by his hand to the other side of the truck, using it as a shield between you and the rest of the world. Your back flushes against his driver-side door.
“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you, Joel.” You frown and squeeze his hand a little tighter in assurance. “Trust me. You’re kind of..” You struggle to make the words fit. Nothing seems right. You’re kind of the only person I want to be around right now.
Joel looks a little relieved. He doesn’t make you finish your sentence. He seems to connect the dots. Joel looks from your solemn face to the house behind you—the cause of your ill-stricken mood.
“How about we grab a drink n’talk.” It’s not a question, exactly, it’s more like a command.
You don’t want to talk about what happened, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you two go off together, your parents will be asking questions.
You push the toe of your sneaker into the gravel and twist slowly back and forth.
“I should just head back inside. My parents are probably waiting up for me, anyway. Cleanup duty.” You say unenthusiastically with a dash of sarcasm. Joel’s eyes are looking past you, still at the house. You turn around to follow his eyeline. All the lights in the house have been turned off—even the porch light. Joel scowls at the sight, thinking how he always leaves the light on for Sarah.
The caged-in feeling returns, your chest tight as you look to your feet and try to breathe through the ache your heart held. You wanted to get out of here, and now.
“Never mind.” You bite down on your lower lip to hold it together. “Let’s go.”
You’re already swinging open Joel’s door, rust creaking at the joints as you slide into the passenger seat. These old trucks with no center console were so cool to you. Maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren’t in such a shitty mood. But Joel’s already in the truck beside you, the warmth he’s radiating was welcome. His key turns in the ignition, and it clicks a few times before the engine roars to life.
You don’t talk, he doesn’t force you to. You feel at peace putting some distance between you and the lakehouse.
Joel drives past neighborhoods with funny street names. Thunderbird Lane. Firefly Drive. Sugar Loaf Lane.
As the sun just finishes setting, the whole town is covered in an orange glow that will soon fade to purple. Everything flies by your window, and moving at this speed feels like the cage is lifting around your chest, the clasps on your wrist snapping free.
Rolling down the window makes the breeze funnel into the truck and flow through your hair. Before you know it, your body is halfway out of the window.
“What ‘n God’s name do you think you’re doin’?” Joel’s tone was warning, his fist catching your dress in a fist around your lower back in an attempt to make sure you didn’t get thrown out of the truck. “Get back in here.”
You turned back so Joel could see you, eyes lit, and a smile from ear to ear. His hold slowly loosens at the sight before him.
Back arched out the window, he drives a little slower and towards the center of the road. You look up, arms outstretched into the night air as you breathe everything in. Fresh lungs, filled with a new perspective, no tears left to cry as you hang out of Joel’s window. The stars gleam, and the universe is vast.
Oh my god. You hear yourself mumble, feeling freedom reeling through your entire body. And like that, you were new again.
A satisfied sigh leaves your lips. You’re back in the truck now, and you roll the window up but not completely closed. The wind still tickles a breeze into your thrown-about hair. You look to Joel, his eyes already on yours.
Joel sees your fire has been re-lit, thrashing out licks of flame and building in intensity. He adores you wild and free.
“Better?”
You fix the space between you, your body melting into his side as your head lazily rolls onto his shoulder. His heavy arm finds its way around the tops of your shoulders to keep you sedentary.
“Much better.”
---
He ends up passing the central part of town. It’s better this way. Go somewhere he won’t be recognized with a woman half his age. He’s the one who lives in town throughout the year. You and your family only visit in the summer. It doesn’t help that the town is small, and Joel is one of a handful of skilled contractors in the area.
His rusted truck lulls to a jittery stop outside a small bar lit by a red neon sign reading, Past Lives. You wander inside, passing empty barstools and a glowing dartboard, while your sneakers crunch peanut shells littering the ground. You nearly slipped on a large pile of them, but Joel’s hand was firmly on your bicep before you could flail any further.
“You might be the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters, annoyance passing over his features.
You roll your eyes and scoot onto one of the tall barstools at a small square table against the wall. “I doubt that’s true.”
He shrugs his shoulders and cracks open a peanut, tossing it into his mouth. “You’re right. Your mother is the clumsiest woman I know. You get it from her. Once, I watched her glide five or six feet down the end of the dock and land in the water.”
An ill feeling passes over you again, pursing your lips as you trace your finger around the small bowl Joel is picking his peanuts from.
Joel halts his movements, chewing included, and watches as your eyes stare meaninglessly at the table.
“Never really seen you like this. Thought I’d like it if you were quiet for once. But now it just feels out of character.”
Joel’s boot teasingly nudges your sneaker under the table. His brown eyes look warm despite the lack of light in the dingy bar. Your stomach twists thinking about how he looked under the moonlight just half an hour ago.
Those pretty eyes of his meet yours. Soft. Kind. “Talk to me.”
A beaten-up sigh leaves your lips, tugging at the hem of your dress.
After a drink or two, you tell Joel everything he missed before dinner. How you and your mother fought. How it was all venom and tears, leaving you cold and alone on the bathroom tile. By the time the battle came to a halt, there was no clear winner or loser.
Joel’s an attentive listener. He doesn’t interrupt. He knows when to prompt you need a push. Joel’s pile of peanut shells has turned into a small molehill. The ice in your drink sloshes around as you start talking with your hands.
“I love her, I mean, she’s my mom. But she’s always fought me on this. This-this-...”
“The traveling,” Joel assists, his large hand nursing a small glass of whiskey. He looks amused like he enjoys watching you spew. You supposed he feels more relieved to see you explode like this rather than holding it all in.
“And-and it’s so much more than that! She fought me about leaving Texas for school, she fought me about doing a semester abroad, she just can’t let me go, it’s suffocating!”
You didn’t mean to sound so passionate, and you hadn’t realized how vocal you became until someone slowly clapped on the other side of the bar in appreciation. You stifled a laugh and put your head shyly in your hands.
He nods slowly, waiting to see what you’ll say next. You’re using him like you’re journaling at home, now it’s just interactive.
You sigh and pinch at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you listen to an old country slow song humming throughout the bar.
“Didn’t even wanna come back this year.” Your words are barely above a murmur.
This makes Joel pause. “What d’you say?”
You sit up straight and sigh, crossing one leg over the other under the table. These stupid drinks are making you tell the truth. Be more vulnerable than you would ordinarily be. But it’s also because you’re talking to Joel, and he’s always been interested in what you have to say.
“I didn’t want to come back this year. These past few years, I didn’t come back to Danbury because I sort of- purposely- busied up my summer. Internships, work, anything to keep me busy and out from under their-their….” You pause to make hand gestures that are wide and all-encompassing.
Joel juts his jaw out to the side, lips pursed before he speaks again.
“M’happy you came back.”
There’s a moment of silence. Joel’s eyes aren’t on yours anymore. He’s swirling his glass around slowly and watching his ice rotate in a sloppy circle. You slowly start to smile as he looks bashful.
“What did you say, Mr.Miller?” You pry teasingly, reaching your hand over and gently stroking his watch band. The nickname makes his eyes narrow on yours.
“Nothin’. Forget about it.” He throws back the last of his drink, and you’re cooing for him to continue.
“Wha- Joel, come on! Why did you say that?”
He’s just trying to buckle down his smile, hiding it with his whiskey glass and shaking his head.
“Didn’t say nothin’.”
“Yes, you so did. Don’t even try to lie.”
“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”
Your eyes go wide, and now you’re smacking his forearm. He’s shoving quarters at you now, sliding them to your side of the table as a form of distraction.
“Can you just-” He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes, finalizing his quarter total to four. “-fuck off, go put a song on the jukebox.”
You sneer at him but obey. You look for something particular, pausing on Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac, smirking at him as you punch in his quarters. He seems confused as to why you stay standing at the jukebox.
The chorus hits, and you point accusingly at him as you do so.
“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,” you can’t even finish before your right foot catches on more slippery peanut shells, freezing like you were caught on ice skates and trying not to fall.
Joel’s hand has a vice grip on your bicep again until you regain your balance. God. Your face gathers heat as you snatch your phone off the table, and he lets out a laugh at your expense.
“Can’t sing,”
“Hey-”
“Can’t walk in a straight line.”
“I had like four drinks.”
“Two.” He corrects. There’s no hiding that you’re just unbearably uncoordinated.
“God. Just- get me out of here, Miller.”
Joel was biting back a smile. He likes teasing you, taunting you. Only because you know how to serve it back to him.
“Not until you see this. Wanna show you somethin’.” He sets down his whiskey and lays down cash to cover the tab.
You start your stride, and Joel’s already looking at you with instilled concern. You insist I’m fine. Go on. You follow him through a narrow hallway towards the restrooms, an exit door lit up with a red sign over it.
The walls are filled with signs, pictures, and letters, all illuminated by a soft flickering strip light. These were trails that people had left along the way, passing through the bar and leaving a piece of them behind for strangers to admire. It was like a memory wall.
Joel leans back against the men’s restroom doorframe, arms crossed as he silently admires the wall. And you.
Your fingers brush an old family picture timestamped from the late 80s. There were business cards, from bankers to bonds bailsman.
You feel Joel’s hand cast warmth on your hip, guiding you further down the hall. You follow his eyeline to a large yellow-light spoiled wall map. There were push pins all in different parts of the world.
“Look at all of these, Joel!” Your eagerness was evident as you stepped in front of him, finger flying from one point to the next, squinting past the tacks to read the cities people have visited.
“Bangkok, Thailand. Paris, France. Of course. London, Dubai, Tokyo.” Your voice trails off, finger-stopping around the empty parts of the map that some of the bargoers had yet to venture off to. The pins around the state of Texas were ironic.
You gently took a step back, Joel's broad and hardened front caressing your back. His arms gently wrap around you before they clasp at your front. You rest your temple against his bicep as you sigh. You found comfort in him tonight more than he could understand.
Your neck cranes to the side and up, observing his defined jawline from below. “Have you ever been out of the country?” Your face is lit with excitement, only to fall as he slowly shakes his head. You turn back to the map, your fingers gently holding onto his muscular forearm.
“Am I crazy for wanting to leave?”
You can feel a heavy breath leave through Joel’s nose, the air fanning over the top of your head.
“You’re not leavin’. You’re travelin’. You’ll come back, eventually.”
The muscle in your jaw twitches, and your eyes move to the Eastern side of the map, spotting the tiny European countries.
“Maybe my mom is so worried that if I decide to leave, I might not come back.” You say it as a joke. It makes Joel muster up a tut. But maybe, just maybe, you mean it.
---
You feel drops scatter from the dark black clouds overhead as you rush out to the truck, feeling the cold rain splash onto the exposed skin of your thighs.
Joel’s hot on your heels, doing his little side hop down the stairs and jogging lightly with his arms tucked into his sides. He’s already tossed you the keys to his truck. His body hovers over yours and shields the raindrops from landing on your head as you fiddle with unlocking the truck door.
“Any day now.”
His babbling thwarts your concentration.
“Fuck off, it’s like- rusted shut.” You tease before giving the handle one large tug, and it gives way with a creak. You slip in, dress hem tangling up on your upper thighs. Your hand flies to fix it instinctually, but you slow down when you see how adamantly Joel admires the exposed skin.
When you two make eye contact, he’s already cleared his throat and put the key in the ignition. He cranes his neck back to look out the rearview window, left hand cranking the wheel with precision while his right arm wraps around the back of your headrest. You swallow the lump in your throat, watching Joel reverse out of the bar’s parking lot and back onto the main road.
Your heart thumps, and you think he can hear it because his eyes are on yours when he turns back around. Magnetizing. And you have a hard time facing him without feeling a little shy. Because you’re thinking incredibly naughty things now.
On the drive home, the rain pelts the truck and hard. Joel’s wimpy wipers are working at full speed. He’s not concerned because he knows these streets with his eyes closed. He turns up the radio a little bit to drown out the rain. He does it for you to ease your nerves.
“You’re quiet.” He murmurs, his eyes still on the murky road in front of him.
You can’t help but be quiet. He looks so fucking hot. As dim streaks of lightning skitter across the sky, you see the silver hairs in his mustache and beard. His rain-dampened curls are recoiling, fresh, and wavy. His thick neck was lined with strong veins and muscle.
“So are you.” You murmur back.
His eyes catch you in sneaky glances. Your hair, pretty and dry since he shielded you in the bar’s parking lot. Dress half rumpled up your thighs, smooth skin of your legs exposed to his wandering pupils.
The truck suddenly shifts, veering off the main road.
“Woah,” you gasp, thinking the truck had slid at first. But Joel’s foot was still on the gas, cautiously guiding you off to a side road. You look around, covered by darkness and trees that shield your existence but do little to veil the obscene thoughts racing through your head.
Joel finally throws the truck into a parked position, your eyes watching as his hand snaps the keys out of the ignition.
He looks over at you expectantly. And you just deadpan.
“Get over here." He says between gritted teeth, voice drenched in lust as he snaps off his seatbelt and then your own.
His large hands pull you in as soon as you’re free. You don’t waste another minute, straddling his lap and resting between him and his steering wheel.
You clutch the collar of his dark green button-up, tugging him by his neck into your kiss. It’s messy and desperate, but you've wanted to taste him since dinner. His greedy hands are wrinkling your dress. The cold air tickles your warm thighs, and you whimper into his mouth.
Joel’s kisses are rough but fluent; he speaks the language of your lips. You take a moment to admire how different the two of you are and how it feels like he’s the key to your lock.
His warm palms slip up the front of your thighs as he kisses you, hasty and happy. He takes the hem of your dress with him. Joel is as warm as a furnace. He’s heating you from the inside out as your core begins to ache for him.
He pauses the kiss, large palm coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb traces along your lower lip. You take the time to catch your breath, feeling his own fog against the window next to you.
“Not exactly the most romantic spot.” His eyes shift with lust-filled guilt. “M’sorry.”
You work up a smile, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek and up his cheekbone.
“It’s okay. We’re not romantic.” Your clarification feels like a lie. He doesn’t need to know that.
The rain outside becomes blurred, and Joel’s looking through you again. Right through you. Your chest pounds under his watchful eyes. He sucks in the side of his cheeks, looks you up and down your face.
Don’t lie to me.
Don’t make me tell you the truth.
He decides to let you move on unscathed, your thighs clamping around his own with your knees at either side of his hips. His worry lines are stamped into his forehead as he looks over you cautiously.
You break into a smile, unable to stand him looking at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Joel,” you whisper into his ear, soft lips giving his ear a kiss as your nose lightly brushes against his soft curls. Your voice drops to a whisper, sweet and divine. “Don’t make me beg, Mr. Miller.”
Your lips suckle his earlobe and cast your tongue along the curve while his fingertips immediately dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. The sensation makes his cock twitch in his jeans.
You smirk as you grind your hips into his lap, a suppressed grunt leaving his parted lips. He’s into it. “You like this, Mr. Miller?” Your words are murmured against the shell of his ear, teeth gently catching his earlobe and lightly tugging.
Your words along with the rhythm of your hips over his lap have him in a tailspin.
“Knock it off.” He warns, teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from his throat while he grips you at the waist to pause any movement. He looks so sexy snarling at you like this. Your hand reaches between you two, palming against his cock until you feel it swell into the heart of your hand.
Joel is lazily planting kisses on the soft skin of your neck, he’s distracted by how good your hand feels.
You take turns half undressing one another. Joel pushes your dress up to your waist and loops his index finger into the band of your panties. He guides them down with your assistance. You kick the material off your ankles and move to pop open each button of his long sleeve. He goes to shrug it off, but you smile and tighten your hold on the collar.
“I like it on. Just wanna see your chest hair.”
His mouth tilts into a crooked smirk.
“‘lright, then. Good to know.” He leans back in and places messy kisses on your exposed neck. You can feel how badly he wants to sink his teeth in, but you share the mutual rule of keeping those things below the collar. Out of sight, out of other people’s nosy minds.
You struggle to admit that jimmying open his belt at this angle was pissing you off. You’re holding your breath until it clicks open, and you let out a sigh of relief. So does Joel.
A gasp leaves your lips as Joel lifts the both of you up purely with the strength of his hips, a low grunt leaving his pouted lips as he pushes his jeans down to his knees, along with his boxers. You sit back down over him and feel his heavy shaft pressing against your slick center. His girth makes you whimper.
The rhythm of the rain eases your racing heart. You take Joel’s pulsing member into your slightly shaky hand.
“Nervous?” It’s not cocky or concerned, just curious.
“M’not nervous.” You mutter, starting to pump his cock to get him to shut up. And it works. For a minute.
His head falls back into the seat as he watches you in admiration, his own hand wandering between your spread legs and gliding two fingers through your slick. His forefinger grazes against your clit, and he has you whimpering again.
“S’okay to be nervous.” His thumb slowly starts delicate circles into your bundle of nerves, and now he’s got your legs quivering.
You’re chewing at the inside of your cheek, shifty eyes meeting his. You pace your words this time. “I’m not nervous, Joel.” You pull away from him to create a line of spit from your mouth, landing on his pink tip already drizzling in precum. You swallow your nerve and bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Not with you.”
The mutual understanding links the two of you together, bound to the agreement in silence. You have a burning desire for one another. You’re scared, and he knows it. You push him to the limits, his heart beats for you.
Steam fogs the windows of Joel’s truck. The rain dances a fine line between pounding and pouring to slow and subtle.
Joel’s kisses lull you into a peaceful existence. You take off your dress, unable to stand anything between you and Joel. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you, your tits flush against his thick chest.
You line him up by his base, Joel’s trying to hold himself still under you. You’re focusing hard, and he kisses your temple to ease your thoughts. He murmurs something, but you’re too busy concentrating.
His pink tip meets your warm flesh, and his tip slowly parts your walls. He’s seething between his teeth, how tight you are washes pleasure over his face. He wants you to go slow. You don’t want him to go easy on you. You can’t help but let his name tumble from your lips in desperation.
“Joel,” you whine, one hand clenching the fabric of his button-up by his shoulder while the other still weakly holds his base.
“M’here, baby.”
He’s rubbing soothing circles in your hips with his forefingers, trying to distract you from the stretch he’s creating inside you.
His breaths are coming out in hot puffs. The truck isn’t cold anymore, in fact, it’s only steaming up.
“So- fuckin’- tight.” He murmurs, eyebrows knitted together as his jaw was dropped open.
It was sharp at first, but the further you sank over him, the more you couldn’t contain yourself. As soon as his balls were flushed against your core, you were kissing him. Hot and heavy, desperate and needy, can’t get enough of each other sort of kisses. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you close while your fingers are delicately feeling up his chest and mazing through salt and pepper hair.
You smirk lazily against his lips, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder. With this leverage, you start to roll your hips down onto his. Joel’s hands assist, squeezing your ass and guiding you smoothly up and down his shaft. You’re both moaning one another’s names, hazy eyes watching each other as long as they can before eventually drifting closed.
You wished you weren’t fucking in his truck, your riding skills were a lot better than this, but if you try and pop up, your head will just smack into the roof. And he’ll make fun of you for as long as he knows you.
“God- feel so good, Joel.”
You’re panting already a few minutes in. You don’t want Joel to think you can’t do this, you don’t want his help. But your body is crammed in limited quarters, and you’re already sweating.
He feels good. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of gentlemen. Thinking about him being with other women, maybe even women his age stirs a weird pit inside your stomach.
One hand steadies itself on Joel’s forearm while the other gently clutches his cheek. You leave a messy moan against his ear.
“Do you like fucking girls half your age, Mr. Miller?” You ask with a teasing smirk, messy kisses against his stubble and his ear ensuing.
He’s grunting every time you throw yourself back into him, skin clapping against his thighs, his hands slipping from your hips to your ass and squeezing the juicy flesh. “-like fuckin’ you.”
A low, extended groan leaves his lips as he holds your hips down, filling you full and having you sit with it. You throw your head back, and your eyes shudder closed with a loud moan occupying the truck.
You tell yourself that you’re both just fuck happy. You can worry about the depth of Joel’s words later. He feels too good inside of you for the first time to give a shit.
Joel’s thrusts bring you back to life, hand landing against his window and leaving a print mark against the steamy glass.
Joel senses your languid movements. He thinks you look pretty being fucked in his trunk during a thunderstorm. The darkness wraps the both of you up, only seeing flashes of each other’s features. He combs his large hand into your hair, catching your striking features with his hooded eyes. The slope of your nose. The curvature of your collarbones. Your pretty lips that he can’t stop staring at.
Joel enjoys the control too much for you to be on top for a second longer.
You collapse onto the truck’s long leather seat, lips parting in surprise as he maneuvers you to lie back without slipping from your entrance.
“H-Holy fuck, Joel-” You’re breathless.
Joel’s jaw clicks tighter as he flattens one of his large palms beside your head for leverage, hovering over you as he begins to methodically snap his hips into yours. Your desperate cries for more fill the truck.
Both of you are horridly cursing, some in the form of whines and moans and others in the form of whispered grunts.
Fuckin Christ-
Holy shit, Joel, please-
Feel so god damn good, princess-
Oh f- fuck me Joel, fuck me!
You’re already feeling the knots in your stomach tether tighter and tighter together, back arching as your chest brushes against his nose.
Joel takes the opportunity and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. You know he tastes your glistening sweat, but the trail from his tongue makes you clench tighter around him.
You catch Joel’s unfiltered groan in your mouth, his forehead resting against yours as his amber eyes grace yours.
He’s close, you can see it in the way his features contort and his thrusts become more unpredictable. You had no idea he could fuck this good.
Joel brings a hand up to your lips and offers you two fingers. You whimper but reluctantly take them past your mouth. You suckle and lather your tongue up and down each digit, it makes his cock twitch inside of you.
He plucks his fingers free with a pop, a trail of spit extending from your bottom lip to your chin as he reaches between you both.
Finding your swollen bundle of nerves doesn’t take him more than a second. You were so turned on it was almost painful.
Joel’s tip sweetly kisses your cervix at this angle, and you are so close to spilling over. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into you as you share a messy kiss. You think about how scared you were to kiss him before, but now it makes you feel a sense of protection and safety. You wrap your arms around his neck, you need him close.
“Joel,” you whimper, clenching your eyes closed and dropping your jaw as he finds the perfect rhythm circling your clit.
“Can’t hear ya, baby,” He grunts into your ear. You can feel him tiredly smirking against your cheek, knowing he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to find the words.
“Fuck,” you mutter, your legs clenching tighter at the sides of his hips. “M’on birth control, finish inside me,” you whisper against his ear.
You can hear him let out a short, breathy chuckle against your ear. It only drives him more, knowing he can fill you up.
“Y’sure, sweetheart?”
“Want to?”
His teeth are gritted as he growls into your ear. “Course I wanna fill your sweet cunt up.”
It was hopeless after that.
A crack of thunder and a strike of lightning conspire, your view of Joel illuminating his gorgeous face in a white-silver flash.
The tight coils inside you snap free, a broken moan of his name being the last thing you remember saying before white stars filled your vision. Your hold on Joel loosens as your orgasm crashes through you ungracefully, making you twitch and rut your hips below him.
His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop. He rides out your orgasm, following suit until he flushes his hips against yours and lets out a heavenly groan of your name. You’re still under him, vision blurry and hearing fuzzy. He finds solace in the crook of your neck, nuzzling a home for himself in the space and losing himself deep inside you.
His body shudders lightly as he finishes, spilling white streams into you for who knows how long. Your hand is gently stroking the hair at the back of his head, fingers combing through dark curls as he breathes hot air against your neck.
You both slowly blink back to life. He’s complimenting you, but you’re too blissed out to hear the details.
So good, baby… Such a pretty fuckin’ girl... So lucky.
Joel tuts softly as he attempts to free his softened length, but you whine and tighten your legs around his hips to keep him stationary.
Your eyelashes flutter as you feel gentle kisses by the corners of your eyes, tiredly smiling as you open them before slowly sitting up onto your elbows. Joel takes the opportunity to pull out and yank his boxers and jeans back into place, securing his belt last.
He still keeps his shirt unbuttoned for you, partially because you have a hold on a random corner to keep it so.
With the absence of your pants hotboxing the truck, you slip back into your dress with a light shudder. You reach past Joel’s leg to retrieve your panties and pull them up your stems to keep his spillage to a minimum.
“Good?” He asks, a smile slowly growing on your lips. He looked so fucked out. You both probably did. You attempt to fix Joel’s hair, and he takes his thumb to swipe away the saliva trail on your chin.
“Good.” You agree. Quiet and sapped, but good.
You force Joel to play a few games of tic-tac-toe on the foggy glass before the storms lighten up, and you can actually see more than a few feet in front of the road.
You’re picking at the skin around your nails the entire drive home. So many questions compile in your worn-out brain.
What if your parents noticed you were gone? What if they were awake, waiting for you by the kitchen window, and they see you slip out of Joel’s truck? Try explaining yourself after that one.
As Joel pulls into his driveway, you observe the lake house is still dark and silent. Empty but also not. Joel’s warm palm is on your leg. It draws your attention away from the window, focusing just on him.
“Joel?”
“Hm?”
You shift your jaw before you lay your head back against the headrest, gentle pitter patters of the last rain cloud splashing on the window.
“What do you do when you’re not working? Like on that Saturday when I talked to you at your truck.”
He musters up a half-mouth smirk. “Didn’t do much talkin’ that I recall.”
You roll your eyes and slam a closed fist against his shoulder. It barely rocks his arm, let alone his body. “M’serious.”
He lets out a long sigh and looks out the windshield. “I do stuff around town or- for the town.”
He’s so hard to push details out of. He’s like a jammed stapler.
“Go on. So, like, volunteering?”
Joel rolls his eyes and shrugs. “S’not really like that.”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
He doesn’t say anything, just sort of starts smiling. “Just like keeping myself busy. But now I have you on my plate.” He teased. Your chest felt warm, knowing he kept a place for you in his hectic life.
“What sort of stuff are you working on right now?”
He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. You can hear it whistle before he lets it all out of his mouth, followed by clearing his throat.
“Y’know that old church past that big field on the east side of Danbury?”
You mindlessly shake your head and shrug.
“When I was a kid, I used t’go to that church-”
“For God?” You can’t help but blurt it out in shock.
He narrows his eyes on you and smirks.
“M’not exactly the Godly type.” You look over his chiseled jawline and beautiful, robust features. You’d have to disagree. He looked like one of God’s favorites.
“So.. why are you trying to fix an old church?”
Joel slowly smiles, eyes mindlessly on the dashboard of his truck before he answers. “I have a thing for the broken, used, and abandoned.”
Your head cocks to the side, and you give him a look, pressing him for an honest answer. Or maybe it was an honest answer, and you’re just looking for a better answer.
He shuffles around in his seat before he continues, hand still aimlessly circling on your thigh. “It wasn’t operable when I was a kid, just rundown, abandoned. There used to be a stained glass mural on the-uh... east-facing wall. So when the sun came up through it, the whole place just- lit up.” He pauses and shifts his focus to you.
“Now, y’know, it’s fallin’ apart. Dumb kids throwin’ rocks at it and chipping away the glass, age makin’ it all dust-covered.” Joel shrugs and falls back into his closed pit of secrecy.
“So… you’re fixing up the town.”
A pause. “More or less.”
“You know how to make a stained glass mural?”
He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. But I can figure it out.”
You twist your lips and slowly climb over his lap once more. His eyes watch you curiously while his hands settle on your hips. You cup either side of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing up against messy curls.
“Can I see this mural you’re working on?”
He takes a long time to answer. So much dead silence fills the truck you start to feel a bit awkward about asking, like maybe it was too far.
“Please.” You ask or tell rather. You kiss his lips lightly to try and sway his pending decision. “I won’t judge, I think it’s cool.”
“Cool?” He instantly chirps, cocking an eyebrow up at you.
“I didn’t say you were cool-”
“You most certainly did.”
You’re shaking your head, and his pointer finger is prodding into your side to get under your skin. “I said that it’s cool. The stained glass stuff, that is what is cool.”
He’s already sneering at you. “Whatever you say, princess.” You can feel your cheeks singe with heat. Your hand anxiously scrabbles for the door handle, letting the rusty door creak open for your exit.
Sneakers scrape gravel after you climb out of Joel’s lap, his boots landing suit.
He smoothes a hand down your dress, your eyes watch before you face him.
“You gonna be alright?” Joel's face is laced with slight concern, his head cocking past you and looking to the house.
You shrug and shake your head. “Yeah. We’ve had this fight before, and we’ll have it again.”
He doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. He’s teetering on his heels as a stray raindrop lands on your cheek.
“You can..” He trails off as his thumb comes up and brushes away the droplet, hand lingering before he cups your cheek. “Y’know, can always stay with us if you need a break. M’sure Sarah would love the company.” And so would he.
Your eyes soften, the gesture warm and safe. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble you’d stir up at Joel’s house. Sure, you could occupy yourself with Sarah when she returned from camping, but what would you and Joel do? Well, besides the obvious…
Your lips curl into a tight smile, not wanting him to reel in his invite out of pure bashfulness.
“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Your eyes are on his until he sighs, his shoulders reset into that of a broad lumberjack once more. His eyes looked like they were scheming. It’s fast, like a flash, and before you know it, the look is gone.
“Take care of yourself.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the crown of your head, thumb skimming up the line of your cheekbone. Suddenly, your heart is racing again.
You cup his cheeks and pull him down for a real goodbye kiss, two sets of pouted lips against one another, unwilling to let go until you have to.
---
“What are you doing after work?” You’re on a call with Joel, phone pressed between your ear and hunched shoulder.
“What are you wearing right now?” He taunts, voice crackling in and out of connection since he was currently working at a house out of town.
“Ha.” You deadpan, closing the sliding glass door behind you as you step back into the empty lake house, skin sweltering from being in the sun for the better half of the afternoon reading on the dock. “No, really, I could use your help.”
The phone volume shrills in your ear as you hear an electric saw roar to life, Joel cursing repeatedly as he walks away from all the noise.
“Jesus fuckin-.. so damn lou- Can you hear me better?”
Once the saw dulled, you put the phone back to your ear. “Yeah.”
“What do you need help with?” His voice sounds a little preoccupied like he’s trying to focus on you, but he’s got a million things running through his head.
“My window.” You say with a frown, stepping into your bedroom and cursing at the sight of it. “Won’t open. Maybe you can crack it open with some of your handy dandy tools.”
You smile as he musters up a little laugh at your hardware knowledge or lack thereof. “I don’t know about today, baby.”
“You are the property maintenance guy for our lakehouse now, right? You have a duty to help me.” You tease, stepping back outside with a fresh bottle of water and an apple. Your teeth pierce the skin, and the apple’s juices gush past your lips.
“Jesus, fine. I’ll be over. I’m almost done.”
You purse your lips to hide your smirk. God, he can’t even see you, but you don’t want him to know he’s got you flustered.
“Parents are running errands today... If that’s extra incentive for you to hurry up.”
Joel pauses on the other end. He’s probably got that stupid smirk on his face. “In that case, I’ll leave now.”
“I knew you’d see things my way. Thank youuu.” You playfully coo.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.
An hour later, Joel’s outside your window while you assist from the inside. His face is twisted in concentration, eyes narrowed on a misaligned hinge that he works free with a screwdriver, realigns, then screws tight into its proper place.
He looks stupid hot so focused like this. Tanned skin, hair a little dusty from work. The veins in his forearm were bulging as he uses pressure to keep the hinge in place. You had to blink a few times to keep yourself from staring. He feels it.
“Can I help you?” His voice was thick and echoing since he was speaking to you between a glass pane.
You bite back a smirk and shake your head.
He pulls off the hinge and nods, pats it a few times before looking at you and giving you a thumbs up.
You decide to let him come inside before you open the window yourself, twisting at the string of your bikini bottom as you wait. He took in your appearance as soon as he parked in the driveway.
“What?”
“...Nothin’. Like the outfit.”
“Joel, I was sunbathing. And reading. It wasn’t an intended distraction.” It was.
“Mhm.”
Joel appears at the entrance of your bedroom. You silently curse yourself for not updating it more. It still looked like a sixteen-year-old fangirl lived in it.
He appreciates the posters and magazines, checking his handiwork at the window.
“Wanna give it a go? Open it?”
You eagerly smile and step up to the window, playfully tugging on it and heaving.
“I-.. It’s still stuck.” You say with a frown. “Joel, you said you fixed it.”
“What? Shouldn’t be-” He’s already got his hands on the frame and tugs, feeling it easily slip up and open. You’re giggling as his face deadpans.
“You think you’re so funny.” He taunts, his body turning towards you as he chucks his tools haphazardly on your bed. You’re already attempting to take leaps and bounds away from Joel, but his arms are long, and so are his strides.
His rough hands capture you by your waist, dusty and calloused fingers ghosting over your warm skin.
Joel’s lips eagerly greet yours, both of you grinning into the kiss. It’s slow as you let it envelop you. Your heart races. He’s not supposed to be here, your parents could come home any time now.
You bite down on your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he backs you up against your wall, foreheads gently pressed together. His eyes flick behind you, and your head follows his gaze.
“Boybands, huh?”
You roll your eyes and smirk, fingers moving to the button of his jeans.
“Shut up, Joel. Leave the boybands out of it.”
A car door slamming catches both of your attention. Heads whip on instinct, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your parents are home, and Joel’s half-hard in your palm.
“Oh, shit.” You curse.
Joel’s already moving, grabbing his tools off your bed, and adjusting his jeans. “Lemme handle it.” Your heart pounds as you and Joel greet your parents at the door. They walk in with fresh shopping bags. A cheesy sign for the living room sticks out from one of them.
“Joel?” They both ask in unison, looking between the man beside you and you in your bikini. Your mother’s face lightly flushes.
“Hey, Joel! Good to see ya!” Your father sets the bags on the table and grabs a beer from the fridge. You shift on your feet and just let Joel lead.
Your dad’s oblivious, your mother is more curious
.
“What are you... What are you doing here?” She tries to ask casually with a little smile.
Joel raises his screwdriver, strategically keeping the toolbag in front of his lower half. You try not to smirk.
“Was fixin’ your daughter’s jammed window.”
Your mother's face softens before she smiles. “Y’know, that thing has been jammed for… years. Thank you.”
You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The light glare he sends you means you’ll pay for that one later. Joel clears his throat and nods, too. He turns to you now, and you share a look.
“Just… let me know if it happens again. Might need to replace the hinge entirely. Small piece of it could be broken, might be why it keeps slippin’ out of place.”
“Yeah. For sure. Thanks.”
You walk past your mother and open the door from him, but he still stands between your parents. What the hell is he doing?
“While I have you both, I was just tellin’ your daughter ‘bout a business trip I have comin’ up.” Huh? “ It’s not for Miller Contracting. It’s more for the town. I’m gettin’ materials for the old church-”
“Oh, the one with the broken stained glass mural on the east side of town?” Your mother chirps in. “We just drove past it. Just saying how someone needs to fix it up.” Joel’s lightly nodding to your mother’s words, her face soft as she listens to him with curiosity.
“Well, I was tellin’ her about it ‘cause I could use some help getting materials from a supplier in Houston. I’d normally ask Sarah to tag along and help, but she said she’s got some graduation parties next weekend that she doesn’t wanna miss. Would it be alright if-”
“Oh, of course! Yes, please, if you need her help and she wants to go, she’s all yours.”
Your eyes are wide, trying not to seem too shocked by Joel secretly sweeping you out from under your parents without them even noticing.
Joel turns to you, eyebrow cocked. “That okay with you? Next weekend. Friday to Sunday sort’f thing.”
A whole weekend alone with Joel? Your insides are bursting, but you have to seem apathetic.
“Mhm. Sure.”
Joel sneaks you a private smile. “Really appreciate it. Ya’ll have a good rest of your evenin’.” And with that, he’s out the front door.
You couldn’t believe what just happened.
You try to act casual before you make it off to your room, but your mother’s voice pulls you to a halt.
“Ah-ah, not so fast. Back it up.”
You quietly sigh before coming back to the main part of the kitchen. She narrows her eyes on you and lightly crosses her arms. Your fight with her from yesterday is still fresh, and it makes holding prolonged eye contact difficult.
“Are you seeing a boy?”
Your eyes widen on instinct. Your dad pauses the sip of his beer and watches you carefully. You try to hold together a poker face as best as you can, but you’re worried your shock is already seeping through.
“Wha- A boy? Why would you think that?” The laugh you force out sounds too fake. And you’re a terrible liar. You feel so hot all of a sudden. You wished Joel was still here to talk you in and out of shit. It was a skill of his you’d surely have to learn.
“Well, we heard the door close really late last night after you walked Joel out. We were just wondering if... You know, there’s a special someone that you’re seeing.” Of course, she hoped you would tie yourself down to someone in Texas.
“Yeah, did a boy pick you up after dinner or somethin’?” Your father presses, eyes narrowing protectively over you. “You seein’ a boy or not, honey?”
You didn’t want to lie, but you certainly weren’t ready to tell them the truth about you and Joel.
“Uhm.” Your brain scrabbles for an answer and ultimately chooses poorly. “Sorta. I don’t know. Kind of?”
Your mother tightens her lips in a smile and nods a little. “We’ll let it go for now, but-”
“God- Mom, please.” You groan and put your face in your hands, closing your eyes and wishing this nightmare was over.
“But,” she annoyingly emphasizes, “If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.” She says with a firm nod before turning back to your father and putting away the items in their shopping bags.
Meet him? They want to meet the boy you’re seeing? What will they do when they find out the boy is actually a full-grown man, a forty-something-year-old with a teenage daughter? And that man was not only their friend and neighbor but Joel fucking Miller. Fuck. Your luck was running out.
---
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Lost & Found
♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!
Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!
Wordcount: 4.4K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.
Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.
Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like?
You had.
But like this?
Yea, you had, actually.
Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.
You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?
It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.
“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.
Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.
Were you even breathing at all at this point?
Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.
You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?
His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.
No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.
It wasn’t weird.
You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.
You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.
Well. Semi-normal, at least.
It was fine.
You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.
Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.
Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.
Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.
This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.
You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.
“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.
Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.
For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.
Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.
Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.
Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.
Hot water.
Naked skin.
Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.
Shit.
Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.
Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.
It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?
No.
Not on your watch.
You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them.
Couldn’t have that, could you?
So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.
It wasn’t, though.
It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.
Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?
You had.
Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.
They weren’t helping.
This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.
If you could just.
Relax.
Have a drink.
Ignore whatever stirred inside.
That’d be perfect.
You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.
“This is why, you know that, right?”
The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.
“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,”
You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.
“Okay, doctor,”
But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.
“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows.
“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,”
Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him.
He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.
The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.
“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.”
“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.”
“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?”
You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.
Just stayed silent.
Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.
“What if I don’t stop?”
“Crying?”
“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”
Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.
Shampoo.
Nice.
He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”
He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.
Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.
Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”
Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.
Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.
Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.
And, listen.
Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.
Well.
He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?
It had.
Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.
And he got to help someone.
Well, not just someone.
You.
He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?
And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?
But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?
And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.
You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.
You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.
“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.
He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.
For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.
He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.
You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.
Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.
Don't look, man.
Stop.
Stop looking.
It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.
Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.
Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”
It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.
You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.
“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.
“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.
Was sort of endearing.
Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.
So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.
Yes.
Exactly.
This was exactly right.
You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.
And kiss the boy you did.
Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.
The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?
The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.
The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.
You’d never had sex quite like it.
Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?
And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?
Get your mind empty.
Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.
Make you feel good, the way he knew how.
Just helping.
And it did help.
Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.
Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?
Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?
Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.
Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.
Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.
Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.
Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”.
Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.
You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?
Joe had helped.
The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.
Joe had helped you beyond belief.
And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.
It was okay.
You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.
Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?
But you weren’t dense.
When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?
Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.
You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.
Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.
It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.
Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.
That was it.
The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.
Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?
You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.
You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.
Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.
It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.
When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.
Joe.
You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.
Confusion.
What?
But... you listened.
Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.
You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.
Except he would.
And then, he did.
Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.
Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?
You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.
No.
This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.
That little shit.
Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.
You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.
Maybe this was better though.
Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.
Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.
Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.
He was just helping.
And he truly had helped you!
Helped in all the ways he knew how.
Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,
“Your suitcase”
Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.
You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.
You knew the perfect reply though.
Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.
“Your jacket”
the end
---
The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella
taglist currently full, sorry
#Joe Quinn#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn x You#Joseph Quinn x You#Joe Quinn x Reader#Joseph Quinn x Reader#Joe Quinn Fanfic#Joe Quinn fanfiction#Joseph Quinn Fanfic#Joseph Quinn Fanfiction#joe quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x y/n#rpf#icallhimjoey#lost & found#lost and found#part 5
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Heroes of Olympus but when Jason returns to Camp Jupiter, he's pissed.
He doesn't cower at the sight of his camp but stands taller. A steelness in his eyes no one at Camp Half Blood has ever seen before.
But one those in Camp Jupiter know all to well.
"Twelth Leigion Fulminata, stand at attention."
He doesn't even need to raise his voice as every single Roman demigod stops what their doing to look at him.
The only thing on their faces is fear.
"Oh would you look at that, you do know how to follow orders." Says Jason, strolling forward and.
Two centurions scramble to get a seat for him, Jason sits down nodding in thanks and dismissing them.
"Does anyone care to explain, just what the fuck has been going on here in my absence?"
Octavian raises a hand and Jason snorts.
"Augur, why am I not suprised? The floor is yours."
Octavian nods, a grin on his face and began to explain what had occurred.
All the while Jason listens, his expression giving nothing away. When Octavian finished, Jason sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.
"If there's one thing I can't tell you idiots off its for making my life boring. Your dismissed...actually one last thing Augur?"
Octavian paused, turning back around to face Jason. "Yes, sir?" Jason frowned "wipe that smug look off your face before I do it for you."
Octavian went pale, all traces off amusement gone from his face.
"Thank you. Your dismissed, get out of my sight." Octavian left without a second word.
"Jason"
"Praetor Ramirez-Arellano"
Reyna winced, and she wasn't the only one. Jason never called her by her title unless they were in the Senate.
He was hurt.
"Do tell me, has Augur Octavian missed anything in his explanation?" Reyna shook her head, for as pretentious as he was Octavian had spoken the truth.
Jason rose to his feet.
"Oh but he did, he neglected to mention that there were 3 Praetors standing before us. Now, unless the rules have changed their are only supposed to be 2."
Jason looked past Reyna, his gaze resting on Percy who waved awkwardly. "State your name."
Percy, feeling very much like he was intruding in on something answered him. "Percy Jackson."
Recognition flashed in Jason's gaze, and he softened momentarily. "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon? Formerly apart of this Camp?" He asked, gesturing to his orange Camp Half Blood top.
"Yup."
Jason nodded "apologises, Jackson. Your friends and I traveled here, you may wait in the Senate. I will release them to you momentarily." Percy grinned "thanks, erm... Sorry about all of this I really didn't know."
Jason held up a hand "that's quite alright, you are not at fault for this." Percy left and Jason's smile vanished.
"Tell me, when did the Senate allow for a new Praetor to be reinstated? And why someone so new? I'd get if it was due to an it emergency field promotion, but that wasn't the case."
He couldn't even look at her and it hurt.
"I thought you were dead, Jason.
Jason laughed, but there was no humour in it. It sent chills down everyone's spines.
"Really? Than please, show me the search parties, point me to the evidence you collected that bought you too such a conclusion. For that matter, where's my funeral pyre?"
Jason shook his head, anger and sadness in his eyes. "Don't bullshit me. You didn't think I was dead, you didn't even look. And frankly I don't think you cared too."
He looked Reyna in the eye. "You replaced me, with a Greek. I get shit for being named after a Greek hero, but none of you had a problem with this. You wanted to replace me, Reyna. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."
He shook his head, turning his back on her.
"Jason, wait I-"
"We have several guests at our gate that we need to welcome. I've already had their weapons checked but you've proven how little you trust my authority so you might want to hurry up on that."
And with that he left to the Senate.
Jason swapped his outfit with Percy who apologised once again.
"Really man, I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault. My Leigion had been trying to get rid of me since the day I showed up. Unfortunately for them, I'm more valuable alive than dead." Explains Jason, Percy frowned.
"Well, fuck em." He grinned when Jason laughed in suprise. "You are definitely something else, Jackson." Percy grinned wider "see you're learning fast. I think we'll be good friends you and I."
Jason raised an eyebrow "you sure? Most of my friends stab me in the back." Percy nodded, a sincerity in his eyes that made Jason almost believe he wouldn't.
It felt too good to be true.
"Well, I'll just have to prove you wrong." Percy put a hand out "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon and former Praetor." Jason shook his hand. "Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and current Praetor."
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
#long post#jason grace#heroes of olympus#percy jackson#reyna avila ramirez arellano#octavian pjo#... I don't think it's bashing if it's canon?
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I hate you
Sakura Miyawaki x fem!sub!reader
CW: not proofread, caught masturbation, humiliation, mommy kink, bondage maybe? & overstimulation
"I really hate you, you know?"
"Then why are you under me?"
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊
You and Sakura were enemies hated each other for life. You didn't know how this rivalry started but it just did I guess. You guys were roommates sharing a house with all your friends. Your friends were aware that you guys hated each other, but they never seemed to care because they loved both of you.
Once again on a Friday afternoon you had no plans while everyone else did. You thought that everyone was out of the house but you were wrong. You pulled out your phone watching the videos Sakura had posted since she was a youtuber. She vlogged around the house but would always stay out of her way so her fans didn't know you as much.
You were clueless. Not knowing that you're starting to get wet by the second. She had posted a video on her workout and you're starting to get needy? Weird of you. You started to feel the wetness travel down your thighs so you decided to finally do something about it. Your hands went down to take your shorts and underwear off while the other placed down your laptop to the side.
Man you knew this was bad, but you needed to get rid of the feeling. Poor Sakura not knowing any of this happening, or did she? Anyways your hands traveled down to toy with your clit then inserting two fingers in. In, out, and in again making lewd noises. Then eventually noises started to come out and as soon as you know it you were screaming her name. How embarrassing.
Surprise, Sakura was home this whole time. You didn't know how thin the walls were but her room was literally next to yours. She pressed her ear against the door and knocked once. Second knock, no answer. Third? There was no third. She barged in like it was nothing and her jaw dropped to the floor. You didn't say anything but panicked and covered yourself with the blanket that was underneath you.
She scoffed. "I could hear you from the other room could you at least try and be quiet? What if everyone else was home"
You were just in shock. "And what were you even getting off to? I swear I could've heard my name yelled at least a thousand times."
"Lets check that laptop of yours, shall we?"
"Sakura no."
"Why Y/n? I know you're hiding something, but what is it?" She scoffed again once she finally got the computer you guys were fighting for 10 seconds ago. She opened it and saw herself working out, specifically doing planks.
"Well what do we have here? You're getting off to the person you hate the most? So pathetic you are. Lets see whats under that blanket."
Oh my god you were dripping. Badly. Your puffy cunt was smothered in wetness. How embarrassing, again. She collected your wetness with her finger and put it back into her mouth. Damn that was hot. "Y/n do you have a tie somewhere?"
"B-by that closet."
"Stuttering before we even got started?" She went over to the closet to grab three ties and started to tie up your arms together, then tied down one of your legs to the bed, then the other. You were now fully restrained under Sakura Miywaki's touch. Could get destroyed any second now really.
"Fuck the foreplay, I wanna have a taste already."
She dived fully in giving you the best head you've ever had but you were so sensitive due to the other orgasms you gave yourself a few minutes ago. You were squirming so much you almost broke out of the ties but she held your waist down. She kept eating you out but started to switch and entered two fingers in and started pumping fast, plus starting to toy with your buds with her tongue.
"mommy! I-Its t-too much" She ignored you but kept going faster having you cum in no time. But anyways she kept going not stopping one bit, leaving you overstimulated.
"I c-cant take it anymore~"
"You can and you will. Shut up and keep still."
You reached your third orgasm in a row and she finally stopped. She gave you a sloppy kiss and said
"That was just the beginning. Don't you think you deserve a punishment for touching yourself?"
#kpop smut#le sserafim#le sserafim smut#fem reader#le sserafim hard hours#wlw smut#lesbian#smut#miyawaki sakura smut#sakura smut#sakura le sserafim smut#le sserafim sakura smut#le sserafim sakura#sakura miyawaki#sakura miyawaki smut#sakura#fypシ#le sserafim x y/n#girl group smut
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hello i love your stone x reader head cannons so I have a request if you don't mind so you know the Street performers in the pilot the clowns and stuff yeah so I thought it would be interesting if reader is a street performer and whenever they get cash they use some of it to help stone and the others or something I just thought about this and I like the idea I hope you like it too, I love your work btw ✨
Light Steps
Stone x Street Performer! Reader
a/n: I remember being in Los Angeles and seeing street performers and one of them accidentally landed on a lady
━━━━━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━━━━━
━━━━━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━━━━━
You collected the money you got from performing on the street. You smiled, wiping sweat off of your forehead. Your face was all red from the sun glaring its rays at you as you walked down the street in your performing clothes, which were just a normal clown outfit, that was homemade. You hummed as you counted the money for those three hours you were out there. "How much?" Stone spoke up as he popped out from behind you. He would watch you from afar, almost like a bodyguard. His gaze traveled down from your face to your feet. "Just about five dollars." You said, handing the hat full of coins to him. "Great. Just enough for food for about two weeks or so." He said as he reached into his vest and handed you a bottle. "There's water in it." He said as he shoved the money into his vest. "Thank you, Stone." You smiled, taking a sip of the water from the bottle. "Still tastes like alcohol..."
"Woah!" Vinnie cheered as she watched Skipp buy a can of two beans. "Thank the lord above that you can do what you do," Vinnie said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder and smiled. "Anything to feed us." You said, nodding. Stone only rolled his eyes as Skipp walked back over to the three of you. "The beans have gone up in price, so I could get us two cans." Skipp frowned as he handed you a can. "Guess we will share." Vinnie shrugged. "Hey Y/N-" "Let's share," Stone said to you first, his gaze landing on your face and then on the beans. "Okay!" You smiled.
━━━━━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━━━━━
Your body moved, the music being played next to you. You twirled and danced, then did a few basic tricks with your hands and feet, doing things with items you and Skipp found when searching in a trash can. The hat you lay out for money was already getting full after an hour of being outside. Stone watched you from afar, his eyes wandering around your arms and body. He glanced away as he grumbled. He could feel his cheeks getting hotter by the second.
The people around you clapped as you bowed, waving. "You don't need that money." A rich older man from the crowd said as he stood next to the hat full of coins. "What?" You perked up, tilting your head to the side. "I need the money." You said, confused. "If I didn't need the money, then why would I be in the sun dancing around." You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, cocking your hip to the side. Stone perked up hearing your voice. His eyebrows furrowed as he walked over to you.
"Is there a problem?" Stone asked as he appeared from behind you, his eyes narrowed at the rich man. "There is a problem. Oh, great! More useless scraps taking money from the rich because they couldn't land themselves a job until us people!" The rich yelled as he clenched his fists. "I need that money than you anyway." The rich man said as he smirked before he bent down and reached his hand out for the hat.
Stone sighed as he rolled his eyes before he stepped forward and stomped on the rich man's hand. "Ow! What the fuck!" He screamed. "Let go of the money, and go away, you idiot." Stone said as he stared down at the man. The man nodded, and Stone lifted his foot. The rich man quickly ran off.
You stared at Stone, your cheeks all flushed. "Me next?" "You are so weird.
#x you#ramshackle x you#ramshackle x reader#stone x reader ramshackle#fluff#oneshot#stone x reader#silly#x reader#ramshackle stone
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Love your writing so much! If your taking requests may I interest you in a Chris and Leon x reader but maybe the reader talks the boys into pleasuring eachother in front of her while she gets off on watching them? Totally understand if it's not your thing! 😊
Hi anon, thanks so much for this request. It most definitely is my thing! I have never written mxm before and this was fun to try. Hope you like it!! <3
Tagging @ghostkennedy because one of their recents stories helped inspire me to make this one come to fruition. So please go check them out too. <3
Play Nice with Everyone
Read on AO3 🖤 Make a Request 🖤 Masterlist
Pairing: Leon x Chris x Fem!Reader
Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, Threesome, MFM, male on male sexual touching, blowjobs, handjobs, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, tiddy fucking, dirty talk, age difference, masturebation taboo relationships??(chris and leon are reader's older brother's friends.) Not proof read.
“Are you two seriously arguing again already!? It hasn’t even been five minutes since the last time I broke it up.” You said exasperated. You couldn’t believe they were older than you sometimes, much less grown men who worked for the government, but damn if they weren’t good in bed — a well kept secret from your family, brother included. You’d been seeing a lot more of them lately since you moved in with your older brother, not having to sneak around since he traveled frequently. But it seemed the more you saw of the two, the less they got along, and the more annoying they became.
“Sorry.” You heard collectively and rolled your eyes.
“No you’re not, if you were you’d stop.”
“Well we do stop.” Chris said.
“Yeah we just don’t stay stopped.” Leon added.
“Well you need to stay stopped. I’m over it.”
“Don’t be that way, Princess.” Leon wrapped his arms around you from behind. “You know how we are.”
“Yeah I do, annoying. And why are you here anyway? Ethan isn’t around.”
“You know we came to see you.” Leon didn’t move from his hold on you, out of your peripheral you could see Chris’ face flash to an emotion you couldn’t quite parse.
“If that’s what the two of you are after, then too bad. You’ve annoyed the horniness right out of me.”
“I think we both know that’s not tr—“ Leon was cut off by Chris pulling him off of you.
“Give the girl some space Leon.” He said firmly.
“More like you just want to be in her space instead.” Leon quipped back.
And the two of them were back to arguing again.You brought your fingers to your temples and rubbed them softly feeling a headache beginning to form. This was getting downright ridiculous. A thought bubbled up in your mind and you turned to face the two men, stepping between them. You put a hand on each of their chests.
“This stops right now. You both are going to learn to play nice together if you want my attention.”
“But —“
“But nothing! You two are going to behave and you’re going to learn to do it my way.”
“Well, what did you have in mind?” Chris asked, looking more invested in your outburst of frustration than Leon did.
“You’ll see.” You said coyly, walking both men to the living room, before sitting on the couch. “Strip. Both of you strip.”
“I like where this is going.” Leon said with a cocky smile, you didn’t acknowledge the comment, instead opting to run your eyes over them as they undressed. Chris tossed his clothes off casually — Leon unsurprisingly took the opportunity to put on a show, teasing his abs as he worked his t-shirt up slowly inch by inch before pulling it up over his head. Then he did the same with his belt and pants. Once unzipped, he palmed himself through his underwear, already hard and letting out a small sigh of relief before tugging everything down all the way.
You had eyed Chris and noticed he’d been paying attention as well, cock in hand, not stroking enough for pleasure but enough to keep himself erect. If he liked the show then your plan would work more smoothly than you thought.
Leon worked his own cock in his palm giving you an eager look. “Alright Princess—“ You cut him off as he took a step forward wagging your finger.
“Nuh uh. I told you, the two of you are going to play nice if you want my attention. Back it up Leon.”
Intrigued he took a step back before the two men looked at each other and then back to you. “Here’s how this is going to work.” You leaned back on the couch, running two fingers up your thigh until you met the hem of your shorts, pausing before walking the fingers up to the button and undoing it. “You two aren’t going to get any attention from me, until you take care of each other. The more you behave and participate, the more clothes I take off. If you get me naked, then you both can have your way with me. Understood?”
“You can’t be serious?” Chris asked disappointed.
“Dead. Serious. You two have kissed and touched each other before when we’ve been together.”
“That’s different!” Leon insisted. “That’s a heat of the moment kind of thing when we’re both balls deep in you not…..you know….”
“I mean I won’t force you if you’re uncomfortable, and you’re always allowed the safe word no matter what.” You assured. “But to be honest, I think I’d find it kind of hot too.”
The last sentence caught their attention again. To emphasize your point, you unzipped your shorts, wiggling your hand into them to rub softly against your clit through your panties. “Fuck that would definitely be hot, watching the two of you go at it.” A little moan escaped your mouth – the look on their face as both their jaws dropping was priceless.
Leon’s eyes were locked onto your hand and the way you wiggled in pleasure against the couch, he swallowed a thick lump in his throat. “Fine.” He said with agreement, turning to Chris. “You heard the lady, gonna have to be a team here. You up for it?”
“‘Course I am.” Chris said.
They froze a brief moment of nervousness before Leon took the initiative, stepping forward and yanking Chris down into a passionate kiss. The other man looked frazzled for just a moment before returning it with equal fervor – and it was in fact, hot.
You had already got yourself going with your hand, but the sight in front of you made an uncomfortably strong heat pang downwards between your legs, a wet spot forming in your panties. ‘God fuck, they haven’t even done anything besides kiss yet.’ You thought to yourself with a whine you tried to muffle. If they heard it, they certainly didn’t show it, focusing on each other.
You watched as Chris brought his hand down to Leon’s already leaking cock, rubbing the precum into his palm before stroking him with a steady even pace. In return, the slightly shorter man let out an exaggerated moan, turning his head to look at you. “Enjoying the show, Princess?”
Nodding, you nearly forgot the deal you made. Now beyond horny and acutely aware of the uncomfortable stickiness in your panties, you remove the first piece of clothing – your shorts. While your undies were still left on, and soaked, it was far more comfortable now without the second layer.
Pleased that they earned their first prize, they returned to each other sharing one more kiss before making their way backwards. Chris gently shoved Leon until he fell backwards onto the other end of the couch before diving down to pepper his toned chest with more kisses, trailing his tongue up to Leon’s collarbone before sucking a bruise into the skin.
You squirmed in place, bringing a hand up to your own chest at the same spot, internally jealous that you weren’t the one getting marked up like that. Watching was turning out to be a lot harder than expected.
Chris’ next move was to run his tongue down slowly, like he was savoring each divet of skin between Leon’s sculpted form as he made his way down. Further and further, stopping to suck another bruise into his hip, causing Leon to jolt with a slight whine. Chris gave the other man another few good pumps of his hand before he leaned forward to take his flushed pink cock into his mouth.
He hollowed his cheeks as he gave shallow bobs of his head, stopping every now and then to give an additional suck and swirl his tongue across the tip, lapping and catching any droplets of budding precum.
Leon keened into the touch, gripping the couch, not having enough length to get a purchase on Chris’ hair. It was obvious even he was shocked by the boldness, but wasn’t complaining. “Fuck Redfield, you’re too fucking good at that.” He praised, letting his head roll back. “So fucking good, just like that.” You’d heard that whiny lilt to Leon’s voice before when you were the one between his legs, but hearing it while watching someone else do it – it was a site you’ll have committed to memory forever.
That act earned them the next article of clothing – you yanked your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side. Only two items left, your sports bra and your underwear. You moved one hand back down between your legs, this time dipping your fingers under the band of your panties so you could make direct contact with your aching clit. A heady moan left your mouth at the relief from the contact, rubbing circles into it as you watched them continue. Your remaining hand made its way to the outside of the thin bra, teasing at your hardening nipples.
You felt close already, not wanting to finish so soon, you slowed the movements of your hands to a lazier pace, relaxing into the gentle waves of heat throughout your body – eyes never leaving Chris or Leon.
“Sh-shit…I’m close, hold on.” Leon managed to get out, gently pushing at Chris. “F-fuck don’t make me bust one yet, I still gotta –”
Chris pulled away with a pop, just in time to prevent Leon from cumming, his cock flopping back and almost hitting the taught skin of his stomach. “Think it’s my turn now.” Chris said with a smirk, wiping his mouth with the side of his arm.
“Yeah yeah… just let me catch my breath for a second. Think you almost sucked my soul out.”
“I’ll take the compliment, hopefully you can be a good boy and return the favor.” Chris patted the top of Leon’s head before leaning back to give him breathing room. You swear you could see an embarrassed flush on Leon’s cheeks from the praise and pet name.
Once their positions had swapped, he started nibbling and trailing bites all across Chris’ chest at a much faster pace, ever the more impatient of the two. Without warning, he darted his tongue out to lick at one of Chris’ hardening nipples, making the larger man buck up unintentionally. Catching the movement, Leon pulled away only for a second to spit into his palm, before resuming the work he was doing ensuring no part of Chris’ torso was safe from his mouth.
With his spit-lubed hand, he grabbed both of their cocks, pumping them together. That finally earned them your bra. Fumbling with the front clasp you desperately tore if off, allowing your breasts to spill out, nipples hardening almost painfully with a mix of cool air and pleasure. Sitting up, you grabbed one of the couch pillows and stuffed it between your legs to grind against, so you could bring your hands up to your chest to massage and play with your own nipples. Desperately rutting against the pillow, again you were jealous that their much larger hands weren’t the ones cupping your breasts or playing between your legs.
“Fuck Kennedy….when you twist your hand like that….shit….” Chris’s voice came out through pleasured pants, over the teasing of his chest, he wound his fingers through Leon’s blonde locks to coax him upwards to connect their mouths together in another passionate kiss while Leon continued to work both of them.
The sight of the sloppy kiss along with your wildly bucking hips, you came, hard legs shaking against the pillow a loud noise a mix between a cry and moan left your mouth. They paused what they were doing to look over at you.
“She really did get off on watching us.” Leon said, pulling back.
“Well, I think we did put on a pretty good show. More than earned our reward, didn’t we?”
You nodded, not being able to properly speak just yet.”Here, let us help.” Chris cooed, standing up once Leon was out of the way. He gently pushed you back so he could hook his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding the soaked fabric off of your legs before chucking them somewhere with all the other forgotten articles of clothing.
“We get your full attention now, yeah?” Leon purred leaning forward to capture your lips with his mouth. You hungrily kissed him back, clinging to his hair, not wanting him to pull away. Between your legs you felt the head of Chris’ swollen cock running along your slit, and jolt of pleasure causing your legs to twitch each time it made it’s way over your clit.
“Can’t wait to fuck you open baby.” He said, slowly pushing inside of you. The feeling of being full was just what you needed, back arching off the couch in pleasure. “Fuck your pussy is always so goddamn tight.” You were soaked already from your first orgasm, so he didn’t bother to start slow, fucking you at a rapid pace, holding your hips steady as he bullied himself deeper and deeper into your cunt with each thrust.
The feeling was overwhelming as you clawed at Leon’s back for support. He chuckled and moved his mouth down your body with soft kisses, offsetting the rough pace of his friend. It was too sweet for your liking. “Lee please….bite me… mark me…god fuck…” A particularly hard thrust made your vision go fuzzy for a second. Luckily for you, he obliged your request, alternating between sweet kisses and harsh bites down your neck and as far down as he could go while Chris was fucking you.
“Good girl.” Chris praised slowly down a little, rolling his hips into you. “Such a good girl. Sat so pretty watching us, teaching us a lesson while her own little pussy was whining and empty.”
“Fuck yeah she did, we’re gonna have to fill her up to thank her.” Leon moved his hand to your stomach, applying gentle pressure to the spot where the outline of Chris’ cock could be felt, intensifying the already stuffed feeling you had. His free hand moved down to rub at your nearly too-sensitive clit.
An incoherent stream of babbles left your mouth as your second orgasm rippled waves of heat throughout your body, legs shaking. Your silky walls tightened as Chris fucked you through it. “Fuck baby, gonna cum, gonna fill you up real good.” True to his words, not more than a few deep thrusts later and his cock twitched as he came, the familiar feeling of hot cum filling your insides.
You looked up and Leon, glassy eyed and exhausted. His cock was still painfully hard and swollen. “It ok if I fuck your tits baby?”
You nodded eagerly, Chris helping to prop you up with a pillow at just the right angle so Leon could straddle you, cock lined up perfectly between your pillowy breasts. You reached forward to press them together to give him more friction while he rocked his hips. “Shit baby, even your tits feel so fucking good. Perfect little Princess with a perfect pussy and perfect tits.”
You could feel Chris’ cum leaking out of you but it didn’t matter, watching the pleasure on Leon’s face as he finally got the release he deserved was enough to distract you from anything else.
Chris wrapped an arm around the other man from behind so Leon could lean back into him, they shared a kiss before Chris reached forward to grab Leon’s cock in his hand. “Keep your tits like that sweetheart.” He commanded as he pumped Leon with his hand.
“Such a good boy Kennedy, waiting your turn and everything.” He praised as he picked up the pace with his hand. Between the earlier blowjob and having to sideline while Chris fucked you, it didn’t take long for Leon to finish either. You felt the warm liquid as it splattered all over your breasts and face, Chris continuing to pump him until his legs twitched from overstimulation and nothing else came out.
Leon collapsed on the couch to recuperate, he turned and gave you a smile. “You always look the most beautiful like that baby, fucked out and covered in my cum.”
You were too exhausted to say anything back and opted to close your eyes.
“Hey I know you're tired but how about a bath first?” Chris asked softly. You shook your head defiantly with what little movement you were willing to give. “Well at least let me clean you up and move you to the bed ok?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.” They said in unison. You sighed feeling the plush texture of a towel against your skin wiping away any bodily fluids. You would need a real shower later, but it would do for now so you could get on with the nap your body desperately wanted. Once cleaned, one of the two lifted you up and carried you to your room – you didn’t bother to open your eyes to figure out who.
“Are you two going to stop arguing from now on at least?” You probed between yawns.
“Yeah we will…” Chris said softly.
“We’ll try.” Leon corrected.
“Promise?”
“We promise.”
The second your head hit the pillow and your body was encased between them, you were out like a light – in the very back of your mind hoping they meant their promise this time.
I have a Discord for anyone who'd like to talk writing, share chatbot shenanigans, discuss RE, simp, and or just chat with new friends. We also game together sometimes too <3 (18+ only). Check it out here.
#nexysworld#anon#ask#request#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield x you#chris redfield x y/n#chris redfield#chris redfield x reader x leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader x chris redfield#leon kennedy x chris redfield x reader#leon kennedy x chris redfield#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#mdni
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Miami Meet Cute
Synopsis: Jack finally meets Zoey’s high school sweetheart.
Series Masterlist
She knew it was a mistake to check her Instagram DM requests but…here she was. It was nothing new, a few distasteful messages about how she was a nobody and didn’t deserve Jack. Some were compliments about her looks or asking where she got her clothes. And then there was one message telling her to stay away from him. That dm made her feel uneasy for some reason but she had to push down her discomfort, close the app and get back to her computer.
Jack had been in Boston for work and was coming to Miami for a few days before continuing with his various commitments. This was supposed to be a nice little reset before the realities of a long distance relationship made its way back to center stage. He was traveling to France soon and the time difference was something that neither of them were looking forward to so it would be nice to see him in Miami for the week for a bit of normalcy. And things were normal for the first few days but of course, the universe had a few tricks up her sleeve.
“You know what we should do tonight? We should go out. Do something fun.” Jack was standing in the closet in the guest room where he had to keep his clothes because Zoey wasn’t a fan of sharing her closet space. There were just too many clothes in there and it sounded like a real hassle. This was a much better—safer arrangement.
“We should! You look like you already thought of something, so what do you have in mind?” She was apprehensive because he usually wanted to stay in and spend as much time with just the two of them. And now he looked like he was about to beg her for something. “What is it…”
He sighs, standing up to place his hands on her shoulders with a sly smile. “How would you feel if we went to an NBA game tonight? You like basketball, I like basketball…”
“You just wanna see your boyfriend Jayson, you aren’t slick. Not even a little.” She rolls her eyes and pats his cheek. “I do like basketball though. We’re sitting court side?”
“Um…duh? You know your man has connections.”
“Right. I’m in. But I do have one teeny tiny, super small thing to tell you that really isn’t even a big deal if you really think about it and—“
“Spit it out babe.” He tensed up slightly at her nervous babbling.
The woman closes her eyes to collect herself, kind of dreading this moment but also knowing that he was going to find out eventually. “You know my ex that I mentioned when we were in North Carolina?”
“Your high school sweetheart, first man you ever loved, the man you lost your virginity to and the one you thought you were going to marry? Yeah I remember.” He doesn’t even try to hid the annoyance in his tone. “What about him?”
“He…playsforthemiamiheat.” She rushes out.
His piercing blue eyes turn a shade darker and he asks her to repeat herself. “Go slow this time please.”
“My ex plays for the Heat. Caleb Martin? If you know who that is.”
“I’m a basketball fan of course I know who that is. Why didn’t you tell me your ex is Caleb fucking Martin?”
“Because I knew you would make this a thing and it’s really not a thing at all Jack. We haven’t been together in like 5 years and we’ve seen each other plenty of times there’s absolutely nothing there. But if you don’t feel comfortable going then I totally get it.”
He looks at her for a minute and lets out a sigh. It was embarrassing to admit that his confidence did waver a bit at the thought of seeing her ex but he couldn’t help it. The history that they had scared him and had him on edge but he knew that this relationship with Zoey wasn’t just some little fling. And that little fact brought him right back down to Earth. “Nah, we're going to this game. I’m not worried about Caleb.”
“Good,” she gives him a peck on the lips, “let’s go get ready then.”
Zoey walked at a snail’s pace it seemed, holding Jack’s arm like it was her lifeline. Because that’s essentially what it was. The cameras were already set up courtside, some of the crew whispering things that they probably thought was under their breath even though she heard every word. She knew what they were thinking before she heard their words and it wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen in her messages recently. Not so subtle microaggressions or confused looks weren’t really new to her but in regards to her relationship, the most cherished thing in her life being on public display? That brought out some insecurities she didn’t even know she had.
A tight hold on her, rubbing smooth circles along the back of her hand brought her out of her quickening downward spiral. “You okay, baby?” His eyes were soft, kind, with a hint of genuine concern and so much love that she almost planted a kiss on him right then and there. She simply nodded and acted like the camera wasn’t panning right to them just as the players began to greet each other at halfcourt right before tip-off.
The Celtics had no problem handling the home team. Jayson walked up to Jack to dap him up as soon as the game was over and she swore she’d never seen him smile so big. They really did have a bromance that she was less than enthused about diving into. They shared little giggles and made plans to see each other next time Jack was in Boston. It was honestly kind of sweet and reminded her of her friendship with Mani. Although it was nice to see Jack in his element, in Louisville surrounded by friends and family. That’s the person she fell in love with, that’s the one she saw a future with. And that was the one who would always feel like home. But on the other hand he was this figure in the music industry who earned people’s trust and built these lasting relationships and had a seat in rooms that normal people didn’t even know existed. It was just a world that felt so unfamiliar but in the midst of it all, there he was, this never wavering pillar of peace and comfort. He really did have the of both worlds and Zoey couldn’t believe she was dating her very own Hannah Montana.
The best part about being out and about in public with a celebrity who doubled as her boyfriend was the fine dining experience and immediate dinner service. Between the tamarind braised short ribs, the crab cakes and the sticky date cake, Zoey forgot all of her troubles and the pressure that she’d been feeling about the potential of seeing her past and her present/hopefully future in the same room. She excused herself and headed off to the ladies room and almost bumped into someone on her way back to her table.
“I’m so sor—Zo?” That was a voice she’d recognize anywhere.
“Caleb, hi!” She cleared her throat, looking over at Jack who was very focused on his phone. “How are you? I know it was a tough game but I’m sure it was nice to be out there. Is your ankle feeling better?”
He gives her a warm smile, shaking his head. “I didn’t know you still kept up with my life.”
“Oh I don’t really but you know you’re my dad’s favorite son. He makes sure to keep me updated.”
The basketball player nods again, running his hand over his face. “It’s good to see you Zo. And um—for what it’s worth, I’m really happy to see you happy. Saw you two at the game and I can tell you two have something special.”
She didn’t know why she expected him to act any different. Caleb had always been on her side, rooting for her and cheering her on. The lump in her throat led her into his arms, wrapping him up in a bone crushing hug. “Thank you, that means the world to me. I can’t wait for you to find your person too. You deserve eternal happiness.” They pull away and Zoey steps back into a solid figure standing behind her. He reaches out a hand and introduces himself and Caleb does the same. Tyler Herro is mentioned a time or two and a couple laughs are shared before they head back to their respective seats in the private section. “It was good to see you Caleb.”
He gives her a nod and another smile before walking away. The couple walks hand in hand a few feet before sitting back down. Jack’s reaction and facial expressions have her on the edge of her seat. But his words have her jaw on the floor.
“I liked him. He was nice.”
“Wait…what? I’m sorry who are you and what have you done with the REAL Jackman.”
Jack rolls his eyes and reaches across the table to grab her hand. “I just—I heard everything he said and it really hit me. There’s no reason to try to compete or prove anything because he’s not the one. I am. And he obviously really cares about you and the more people out there that are looking out for you, the better I feel. So yeah he’s cool people.”
“That is extremely mature of you.”
“Mature is my middle name.” He laughs and she raise her eyebrows, really impressed with how this day has gone.
Two days later she was back at work, with Jack in France when she received a bouquet of flowers at the office. She smiled to herself thanking her lucky stars that she found a man so effortlessly kind and romantic, especially when she saw the note that was attached.
Zoey, I’ve warned you multiple times now to stay away from Jack. Clearly you’re not learning your lesson so I’m letting you know now that I’m serious. Leave him alone or I promise life is about to get a lot harder.
The note was definitely not from Jack and whoever this person was had graduated from petty messages to borderline stalking. She didn’t want to worry him and make this a big deal over a silly little note that sounded like some Pretty Little Liars parody so she threw it away along with the flowers and shoved down the uneasy feeling brewing deep within her bones.
No more taglist🤍
#jack Harlow#jack harlow imagine#jack Harlow x oc#jack x zoey#jackman thomas harlow#jack harlow one shot
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The Plane Crash - {Rin Itoshi}
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You shouted walking behind your husband of two years who was ignoring any sort of confrontation with you right now. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, he said tossing his duffel bag by the foot of the bed and unzipping his jacket. “What? Saving our marriage? You can’t talk about saving a marriage we both wanted! Stop making it seem like I’m forcing you to do your fucking part when all I ask is that you love me.”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” He screamed grabbing his head in frustration, “I can’t be everything and perfect at the same time. I have a life beside being Y/n L/n’s husband.” You scoffed and slowly wiped away the tears that were falling from your eyes. With Rin being a pro football player you knew all you had to do was support him, he’s everything and more for you and you know that. But you never knew he’d use being your husband as a form of feeling trapped.
Maybe that’s why he’s been spending more time on the field rather than coming home in time for the two of you to eat dinner together. When did the two of you stop feeling like a couple? When was the last time you went to sleep without crying?
“I’m sorry that I had to try for you but it was so hard and impossible for you to do the same for me.” You said walking over to the closet and grabbing your big travel luggage, opening it you started grabbing a bunch of clothes from the hangers and from the dresser. “What are you doing?” He asked looking up at you, fear struck his eyes slightly seeing you move as quick as you did. “I’m going to stay with my parents for a while, it looks like we both need space from each other. I’ll come back for the playoff game.” Rin stayed silent and chose to listen.
“I’ll send you my plane information and when I make it there safely but I really just think we need to spend some time apart from each other.”
~
“Yes mom, I’ll be fine I promise. He knows I’ll be late to the game. He just wants me there no matter what time I show up.” You say trying to reassure your mother who was worried about literally anything. She pulls you in for a hug and then kisses your cheeks watching as you disappeared into the gate. Your flight had already been delayed three times and at this rate you were going to miss your husband’s first play off game which you promised you’d be there for him.
It was a five hour flight and you were more nervous to see Rin. Since the fight you two had only talked twice in the time span of three months. The two of you agreed that it was better if you talked in person rather than over the phone. “Excuse me passangers, this is your flight attendant. We will be landing shortly, please fasten your seatbelts and stow away all trays. I’ll be coming around shortly to collect trash. Thank you.” She put the phone down and started walking down the aisle, once getting to you she paused.
“You look familiar.” She said taking the empty water bottle from you, “were you on the blue lock award ceremony or something?” “With my husband yes.” “You’re Itoshi Rin’s wife!” You nodded nervously while blushing slightly, this is the first time you’ve actually been noticed. “I’m sorry you aren’t able to make-” she was interrupted by the plane shaking aggressively, the plane then again started shaking but this time more rougher. The flight attendant’s body flew up hitting the top of the roof then landing back on the floor. Everything was happening so fast the next thing you knew was the oxygen mask were coming down.
~
Rin had just finished scoring the winning goal and instead of hearing the normal loud cheering all he hear was chaos. The people in the crowd were either trying to leave or were freaking out about the game. Rin walked over to his coach with his fully decorated water bottle thanks to you. “What’s going on?” He asked and the coach was in his own world on the phone with someone while anxiously trying to get his shit together.
“One of the planes crashed into xxx pier”. Rin felt his heart t drop to his stomach, “do you know the flight number?” Rin asked, before the game he had briefly glanced at your flight plans but he couldn’t remember exactly what flight number you were on. “Flight 717, sorry good game today guys but I gotta go. My kids are on that flight.” Rin felt his stomach tightening, for some odd reason that number just didn’t sit right with him.
The moment he entered the locker room he pulled out his phone and went straight to his messages.
Wife 💚: hey my flight was delayed once again, so I won’t be able to make it. Good luck you know you’re the best. Oh and my flight number is 717.
He immediately grabbed all of his stuff and started heading towards- he didn’t even know. He just knew he needed to get to you.
Opening your eyes you looked around seeing most of the passengers either dismembered, trying to get out, or just dead. Slowly turning you undid the seatbelt and started to panic even more seeing the water fill up the plane. Using the armrest you tried to get out of your seat but your legs were lodged under something. “Help!” You shouted crying a bit as the water was quickly rising up your legs.
The fireman walked slowly up to you and started to check for further injuries. You didn’t even notice the large gash on your forehead, “alright, are you okay ma’am?” You nodded your head yes not being able to speak out of pure shock. The fireman tried to push against the metal pole stuck on top of your legs but it wasn’t budging. The water pressure was pushing against it too hard.
“AHH!!” You screamed out feeling the pole dig further into your legs. Biting your bottom lip a crippling crying erupted from your mouth. “C-Can you do me a favor?” You asked feeling the water reach up to your chest. “Can you give a message to my husband, Itoshi Rin.” The fireman shook his head no and kept trying to pull the pole up, “look, we both know this plane is about to go down and it’d be more beneficial if you lived rather than me.” You said taking slow deep breaths.
You were the only one left on the plane, besides dead bodies, everyone else was saved. “I’m saving the both of us, if you go down, I go down. Simple.” He said and tears started to form once again. Reaching over you grabbed his walkie and held it up to your mouth. “Whoever is hearing this people get this message out to my husband. My name is Itoshi Y/n. Baby, I’m sorry for our fight. I never meant to make you feel like you were trapped. I love you and I’m sorry if I ever failed you as a wife and as your best friend.” Letting go of the walkie the water was reaching up to your neck and it was really getting hard for you to talk let alone breathe.
“Okay this is what we’re going to do, I’m going to tie this rope around it and the speedboat is going to pull it off of you long enough for you to swim out.” He said and you nodded slowly not fully believing that this plan would actually work. The water was rising even higher and he was still tying the rope off. Once he finally got it he swam out the way a bit and signaled the man to go, it was suffering a bit but the pole lifted slightly giving you enough room to wiggle out of your seat. The problem was you couldn’t swim, your legs were most likely fractured.
~
Rin arrived at the crash sight and was led towards a big area that held two different sections. The survivors and the deceased. After searching all throughout the survivors section for you he hesitantly walked towards the deceased section to make his worst nightmare possibly come true. He stood there staring at all the covered up bodies in shock. He flinched feeling a small dainty hand tap him in his shoulder, “excuse me. Are you looking for a specific someone?” The responder asked holding up her clipboard filled with names.
“Um-y-yes my wife. Itoshi Y/n.” It was silent for a moment as she looked over the list, she clicked her tongue before bringing the clipboard down and giving Rin a sympathetic smile. “She isn’t on the list, this may be a good thing…or her body hasn’t been discovered yet. I’m sorry.” She said and walked away leaving Rin lost and confused. “WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE!” A group shouted from the water, one of the fireman was holding an unconscious heavily injured body.
The one thing that caught Rin’s attention was the 13 charmed bracelet, that was hanging from the wrist of the woman. It was you, he started running over towards the stretcher heart racing with each step he took. Your legs were bruised and bloodied and the gash on your forehead was alarming for many reasons but the main one was the amount of complaining he was going to hear when you wake up. He gently caressed the top of your head noticing you stirring around, your eyes opened slowly and the moment you saw Rin you almost fell off the stretcher trying to hug him.
He kissed the crook of your neck and cheek while whispering small praises for you being so strong. “I was so scared…I-I-I thought I was going to die!” you whispered and whined while clutching tightly onto his shoulders. “You’re okay baby. You’re okay now.” He rubbed the back of your head then let go of you briefly so that the both of you could ride in the ambulance together.
“Be honest with me. How bad is it? I could practically feel the blood running down my face.” You laughed awkwardly while rubbing something out of your eye, “you’re beautiful y/n.” He said leaning down and kissing your forehead then giving you a fake smile that you were all too familiar with but the two of you just laughed then sat in silence. “Rin, I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel stuck.” “I’m not stuck. I never felt stuck. I just didn’t want to disappoint you and with the playoffs happening I was just stressed and took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
You sat there in shock at his statement. “Rin. You are a freaking all star. No matter what happens I’ll always be proud of you. I’m your wife, I support you in everything you do. I love you.” He leaned down and pressed a debtor kiss on your lips then one on your forehead. He whispered an I love you back then kissed you again.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x mc#blue lock x you#blue lock rin#bllk rin#bllk x y/n#blue lock rin itoshi#bllk rin itoshi#rin x you#rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin x y/n#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x you#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x y/n#itoshi rin x you#itoshi x reader#itoshi brothers#rin itoshi x y/n#bllk fluff#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk smut#bllk x female reader#bllk x gender neutral reader
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PLZ IM BEGGING FOR MORE OF NEYTIRI X RONAL Z READER I WENT FERAL AFTER THE LAST ONE AND JAKE X NEYTIRI X READER
IM SO GALD YOU LIKED IT ANON AND IM SO GALD YOU REQUESTED THIS CAUSE I'VE WANTED TK WRITE THIS
Feel it
Pairing- Ronal x reader x Neytiri
Summary- You've been watching them, and they've been watching you. When they corner you how can you say no to their advances.
Warnings- 3some, fingering, pussy spanking, playing with boobs, a little dirt talk not much, lmk if I missed something
You watched as Ronal and Neytiri pick some herbs for medicine. It was no secret to them that you watched them, that you liked them, that you touched yourself thinking of them, but you didn't know that. You bit your lip as Neytiri bent down picking up a flower, you thought of how perfect she was, how her body would feel. You quickly looked away as they turned around. They looked at you the way you were embarrassed that you were looking at them.
Neytiri smiled at your shyness. You didn't know it but they watched you too. They watched how you would walk around being all shy, watched how quiet you were around them, and one time they came to talk to you and they heard you touching yourself with two faint words. "Ronal……. Neytiri."
They had to suppress their sinful thoughts and wanting for you until they thought you were ready. They waited many days and many nights, and finally. "Ronal, I believe she is ready." Neytiri said as sat down picking seeds from a plant. Ronal hummed in agreement as she pounded the seeds into dust. You were, are ready.
Now it was late, way past Eclipse and you were in your pod alone, awake and your thoughts wandered to the two women from earlier.
Ronal, oh her strong hands. They could wrap around your body, use you in ways you couldn't even imagine.
Neytiri, oh Neytiri. Her strong arms could hold you, she could bend you over and take you for all your worth.
You huff out and shake your head at yourself. "You should be ashamed of yourself." You whisper to yourself. "Why should you be ashamed?" You hear a familiar voice, Neytiri. Your ears perk and cheeks warm up as you look at her and Ronal. The two women you just thought about fucking two seconds ago are now in front of you.
You gulp the collection of saliva in your mouth. "It is nothing." You say getting up from your cot and tilting your head downward as a sign of respect. They repeat what you did. "I do not think it is nothing, you seem worried." Ronal pushed and you bit your lip the closer they got.
"Why have you come? It is very late." You ask now wondering why they have come. Ronal gives a small smile to Neytiri. "We know what you feel about us Y/N." Ronal stated and your eyes widened, how did they know? Did they find you weird, disgusting?
Pulled from your thoughts was Neytiri giving a little cough. "I do not know what you are speaking of, I do not feel anything for you." You lie through your teeth. "Is that so?" Neytiri cocked her head to the side, walking closer.
Your cheeks instantly heat up as you shake your head. Ronal grabbed your chin, eyes focusing on her now. "So you feel absolutely nothing?" She questioned. Her hands felt so good on your skin, even if she was just holding your chin. You shake your head up and down not letting them win. "So if I did," Neytiri began, hands trailing down your sides squeezing your hips as they traveled to cup your covered cunt. You gasp from her sudden action. "You would feel absolutely nothing." She said hand moving the loincloth to the side feeling your slick covered lips, but not dipping between them to touch your clit which was beginning to be touched.
Your body aches for them practically begging for them.
You didn't speak and then she pulls her hand away making you whine. "Well for someone who doesn't feel anything for us you sure are wet, who caused that?" Ronal asks, hand finally freeing your chin. She already knew who made you wet but she wanted to hear you say it in your own words. Your face and body was heated, you reeked of humiliation. "You two did." There it was, you finally caved in.
"Did what?" Neytiri asked, hands going back to your waist and untying one side of your loincloth. "Made me," your voice got quieter you couldn't believe you were doing this. "Wet." You finished and they both giggled. "We know." Ronal said untying the other part of your loincloth.
Your bewildered expression didn't go unnoticed but was ignored. "Y-you know, h-how?" You stuttered and then as your loincloth fell you felt exposed as their peering eyes traveled up and down your body. "You thought we didn't?" Ronal asked, guiding you to the cot you previously sat upon. "You are not as sneaky as you think yourself to be." Neytiri added sinking next to you.
"We heard you when you were touching yourself." Neytiri whispered into your ear, eyes widened as her fingertips ghosted across your skin, going down, down, down all the way to the place you needed them most. "Those sweet noises that came from you and the names that made you cum." You could hear the smirk that was on her lips and then you felt a second pair of hands rub up from your calves to your thighs. Ronal's rough hands dipped between your thighs first gathering some of your slick, smearing it all over your pussy. You try closing your thighs but then a light smack was given to your clit making you yelp.
"Open, do we have to teach you to behave?" Ronal said and you only shook your head as tears threatened to fall, you wanted it so bad, so bad. Why wouldn't they give it to you? Then, Neytiri kissed you, her lips were soft as a cloud with the taste of sweet fruit, with a hint of honey. Moaning into the kiss as Ronal slides her fingers into your hole. Already clenching around her thick finger you through your head back as she mercilessly fucks you with her them. The sensation was all too much, but you found yourself begging for more.
Neytiri finds her hands ripping your top off playing with your tits with one hand, and with her unoccupied hand she slides it down your squirming body and down to your puffy, red clit. She put it in between her thumb and index playing with it, getting you closer to the edge by the second. You close your eyes and turn your head away too embarrassed to face them. Neytiri tells you, "Eyes open love want to watch as we make you cum don't be shy." She said going at a feverish pace now on your clit while Ronal was going as hard as she started. You clenched around her fingers every time you felt yourself getting closer.
"I feel you're going to cum, come on, want you to cum all over our fingers." Ronal said through her teeth, focusing on getting you to your orgasm.
And you did just as she said, you gushed all over their hands, your legs shaked, your eyes screwed shut seeing spots on the backside of your eyelids as you cum. Your head was fuzzy as both pulled from you. "Look at this mess, didn't know you had it in you." Ronal teases, making you whine. "Be nice to her." Neytiri said, pulling you to the top of the bed caressing the top of your head. Ronal shushes her as she gets on the other side of you rubbing your side up and down.
"Feel anything now." Ronal whispered into your ear.
#avatar 2#avatar 2022#avatar#avatar 2009#avatar way of water#avatar shit#avatar smut#neytiri x reader x ronal#ronal x you#ronal avatar smut#ronal x reader#ronal avatar#neytiri smut#neytiri x you#neytiri x reader#neytiri#ronal x reader x neytiri#ronal x y/n#ronal and neytiri are so mommy
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// dsmp rp
"sunset" — a drabble based on @hiding-in-the-vault's power trio au
~
“Hey, can we stop for a second?”
Sapnap and George turned back to Dream. As tired as he might be, as tired they all were, Sapnap still had the wherewithal to be suspicious. “Why would we stop?”
“Well, I mean, just— I think it'd be good.” Dream looked out over the vast fields they had just traveled through, to the dense patch of forest they were about to enter. It would be dark soon.
Sapnap looked at Dream like he had murdered his family. “This was your idea to find Punz, bro, you’ve gotta have a better reason than that.”
“Look, I— Fine, it doesn't matter!”
“No, it fucking matters now! What is it, what's up?”
“Sapnap,” George interjected. From behind Sapnap, he yawned theatrically, as he had been doing for the past several hours.
“What's in the forest, Dream?” said Sapnap, eyes narrowing. “Do you know something?”
“No!” Dream insisted. “You’re— ugh, I was just thinking that, like, maybe it would be nice if we, like… saw the sunset.”
Dream actually, physically recoiled at his own words. Fuck, did that sound dumb. He was tired, he was aching, he wasn't thinking straight. Sapnap was just frowning back at him with that specific brand of confused anger. Like a big, stupid ravager.
“The sunset?”
“It was dumb! Okay? I get it!” Dream shook his head. “Forget it.”
Sapnap didn't look any less confused. For far too long, he studied Dream’s face so intently that it felt like he could see through the mask, searching for the lie that wasn't there. Dream wished there was one.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” said George. “I'm not walking anymore.” Without any further conversation, he went and sprawled out on the grass, gazing up at an orange sky. Not the muddy orange of Dream’s hidden prison jumpsuit, but a vibrant, pretty orange. The color of life, not death.
With a shrug at Sapnap, Dream made his way to George’s side, half suppressing the wince as he sat down. He drew his knees up to his chest.
“No way you're serious,” said Sapnap, but Dream didn't respond. He was too tired for this argument; hopefully, Sapnap was too. But Dream still kept his hands free, hovering near his axe, just in case. Nothing was worse than getting complacent.
It felt so good to finally be sitting down. They had been walking all day, dragging themselves from one side of the server to the other, and while that wouldn't have bothered the Dream of the past, it was undeniable that he couldn't go half as long as he used to without several breaks. Which was fine, he could manage, he had come this far. It was just frustrating.
The sky really did look amazing right now. Between fleeing bases and collecting scraps of his old resources, Dream hadn’t thought about sunsets once since his escape, but something about being around George and Sapnap brought back the urge. It was more nostalgia than anything; the hours and hours they had spent outside as kids, camping out after dark when they knew they shouldn't. It would sound stupid to say that the color reminded Dream of Sapnap’s eyes, but here he was.
Eventually, Sapnap relented. Dream heard the clank of armor as he thumped down beside him, jostling around a bit before exhaling deeply through his nose. After that, the whole world went quiet. It wasn't as awkward as it should be.
“What are you really doing with Punz?” Sapnap finally asked him, tone hushed and weirdly soft.
Dream didn't look at him; he couldn't take his eyes off the sky. “I can't tell you that,” he whispered back.
“He revived you.”
It should have been an accusation, but there was no heat to it. “Yeah.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dream saw Sapnap nod. “Dream, listen.” A gentle hand on his arm made him look up at Sapnap’s face. “If this is gonna work, if we’re gonna actually work together, you need to tell me what's happening. Punz is whatever, you have your old secret shit, but from now on? You’ve gotta share, dude.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Dream.
“No. Clearly, you don’t. I’ve gotta look after myself here, and George too. You’re not gonna lead us into some bullshit that’ll get us killed.”
Sapnap was looking at him like he was in pain. Dream broke eye contact; something twinged inside of him. “I'm sorry. About— that.” It was obvious what he meant. “For not telling you.”
Staging the betrayal with Punz, orchestrating Sapnap’s grand hero moment behind his back—that had been rough. As necessary as it was, just as much now as at the time, it didn't fully take out the sting, not even for Dream. Sapnap certainly wasn't taking it well. One day, maybe, he might understand the importance of it all. After all, it wasn't like Dream was the first of their little group to betray the others.
Dream couldn't tell Sapnap everything, but he could tell him some things. He could tell him about threats and traps and elements of plans that didn’t require too much prying to understand. That was more than before. As hard a pill as it was to swallow, there just wasn't the same trust that there used to be. Not after Sapnap killed him.
“That works both ways, though,” Dream told him. “You have to tell me stuff too.”
Hesitantly, Sapnap nodded. “Of course.”
They left it at that.
It was nice being able to talk to Sapnap like they were friends again, even if it was only a mirage. Dream couldn't let himself get used to it. They would both be fighting again tomorrow, and eventually, it would end up being more than just words. But the past year had taught him a lesson, and he had learned it well: the cruelest thing to endure was false hope.
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I heard in the canteen that the humans once used a few antique combustion engines to start one of their portable stars. Any truth to the rumor?
Ah jeez, that was one hell of a day for that guy.
Yes and no. Where do I even being...
Okay. So this place up in Greenland called, uh... I'm gonna butcher this so bad, Hjeilhornhentrotnenheim, has an engineering museum, right? Right, and the guy in charge, his name is, ah fuck this is gonna be bad too ..., Hansinguaq Bjerresvontsgaardsen (I'm just gonna call him Hans from now on because uh yeah, no), collects all the things not fit for display in his personal transport ship. He's essentially converted it into his private mobile museum.
Not long after we established diplomatic channels and preliminary trade routes, Hans eagerly went off on his own to visit Alien equivalents to museums and such. Spent a solid three weeks traveling, sight-seeing, and adding things to his collection.
During a stop on the outer reaches of Coalition space his computer blue screened and forcibly shut down the reactor and pretty much wiped his communication array address book among other less relevant components. And no, I have no clue why he went so far out. He's 46, midlife crisis is my guess, telling him to go out on daring adventures or whatever. Anyway, he couldn't restart the fusion reactor while the inhibitor rod chambers were open, they open and shoot out the star canceler in an emergency shutdown, but one was stuck with the rod half-way in, so Hans had to manually open the reactor and fix it by hand.
Problem is, his transport ship, the Veritable Greenhorn, is fairly big, and the reactor's outer diameter was about 37 meters. Even in zero-g that's a lot of mass for one person to move, not to mention how much force you'd need to pry out a hyper dense metal alloy rod from a gate meant to withstand the pressure of a star right next to it. But he did have a lot mechanical power at his disposal, it just needed to be... rearranged.
Now, he did have backup generators that quietly hum in the background like on every Human vessel, but these are passive and nowhere near enough to charge the hyperdrive even if he could tell it where to go, let alone power machinery to counter a thousand ton jammed deadbolt. He needed something that had a kick to it, something you could really rev beyond its limits just long enough. He needed his V6s and V8s.
After almost two days of DIY engineering details I won't bore you with because I fell asleep when he explained them himself, Hans fired up the engines. It was a very tedious five hours of the engines rythmically tugging the deadbolt a tenth of a milimeter open and what is basically a massive jackhammer pummeling the rod back in. At one point he ran out of gas and was forced to sacrifice his alcohol collection.
Suffice to say it barely worked, all of the machinery he cobbled together became practically unusable, but it worked and he was able to restart the fusion reactor.
Oh, he didn't come home or anything by the way. Like I guess, midlife crisis. If anything, success has made him think nothing can get in the way of his Galactic exploration quest.
So that's the story. No, he didn't use combustion engines to start the reactor or anything, but lacking any other means to fix a problem I honestly didn't know could happen, the petrol guzzlers gave him the right kind of horsepower.
By the way, if you get a chance to tour the Veritable Greenhorn, I'd recommend it. I can't even begin to describe how that contraption looks, it's one of the main displays. I guarantee it's the most specific purpose built and rough pieces of Human engineering you will ever see.
#humans are space orcs#humans are space australians#humans are space oddities#humans are deathworlders#humanity fuck yeah#carionto#story#scifi
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Hate to love you, love to leave you (Toxic,Yandere Vegeta x Reader)
Author's note: It's a one part long stroy. Smut alert! Enjoy~
It’s been 2 years since I was “together” with Vegeta. Never ever was this thing mentioned between us as a relationship. As eager I was at the beginning, whining about wanting to be his girlfriend as much I didn’t give a fuck anymore.
Oh the amount of time I wanted to leave him so far…kinda like every single day at least once. Then why did I still stay? Good question! A question I couldn’t have answered myself.
-Could you please stop it? -I pinched the bridge of my nose. Vegeta kept clicking his tongue, while checking his phone and it drove me crazy.
-Stop what? - he raised an eyebrow with a total deadpan expression on his face.
-Clicking your freaking tongue -I took a deep breath to be able to keep myself cool.
-Tch… -he pulled a face and rolled his eyes. Oh and kept clicking his tongue.
This is how a simple, normal weekday’s evening looked in the lovely life of ours. After 10 minutes of listening to his tongue I stood up and started to leave the living room.
-Where are you going? -he hissed. He was obsessed that we both needed to be in the same room, when we both were at home. From the beginning he acted like this, but at first I found it sweet that he always wanted to be near me. Well, now…now I would have rather laughed at his childish attitude, if I found it funny. Shame, it wasn’t funny at all.
-Out -I answered with a cold tone, not bothering to look at him at all. Vegeta rushed after me and grabbed my wrist, turning me around.
-Are you about to call one of your dicks, who fuck you when I’m not around? -he hissed in my face.
-Not this shit again. You are insane -I rolled my eyes- How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not cheating on you. Never have and never will. I’m not a cheater for fuck’s sake! -I yelled in anger.
-Every cheater would say that - he pulled a face.
-Fuck you! -I sighed, because it really did hurt that he didn’t believe me. He never believed me…- You know what? -I was blinded by anger and pain- We’re done! -I shrugged his hand off of my wrist and headed to the bedroom. Packing my clothes in the bag I heard him clicking his tongue.
-Are we doing this again? -he rolled his eyes. I lost count on how many times I packed my stuff to leave him.
-For the last time -I sounded cold, which surprised him. Usually I was yelling, screaming, throwing things at him and calling him numerous unholy names. But not this time. I remained calm and it frightened him a lot.
-C’mon baby -he walked next to me, gently grabbing my waist, turning me to face him- Don’t do this. You know you can’t live without me -he smirked arrogantly.
-Well then I’m going to die, because we are over, Vegeta. So please take your hands off of me… - giving him a dead expression, which freaked him out even more.
-My love, please don’t do this -he blinked fast, trying to figure out if I was bluffing or not. I wasn’t though, I was really determined to end this there and then.
-Stop acting like you care -I rolled my eyes, still packing.
Vegeta started to panic, trying to collect his thoughts to figure out something.
-I love you -he spat out the words, which made me freeze in my action. Never ever heard these words from his mouth, not even once -Please don’t leave me, baby -he kept begging.
Lost of words, I’ve been standing still above my bag, almost fully packed. Slowly turning around, seeing the fear in his eyes. Oh how much I was tricked one more time, naive me. I felt terrible, tears were filling up my eyes as I held out my hands to let him hug me tight.
-Please, never leave me, Y/N! I…-he panted-I just can’t live without you!
-Sometimes you are such a freaking asshole -I giggled, hugging him even tighter. The ugly truth was that I was so deeply in love with this man that I didn’t see the toxicity slowly choking me to death.
Vegeta’s hand started to travel down on my back, grabbing my ass hard. As he pressed his lips aggressively against mine, our tongue fighting for dominance. Always I was the one who gave in and let him lead the actions, his pride wouldn’t let it be any other way anyway.
-I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re going to beg for mercy -he grinned in the kiss.
-I hope you will -I smirked. Not being a liar here, I loved the rough sex we usually had. Sometimes I was wondering about asking him to be gentle, but it wouldn’t be him. Vegeta threw me on the bed next to my bag above the clothes I layed out a bit before. Eager hands ripped my jeans and underwear down, spreading my legs wide open.
-Oh fuck… -I moaned out loud, grabbing Vegeta’s hair as his tongue pleased me in a way only he was able. Sucking on my clit, and fingering my entrance at the same time made my whole body shiver- I’m so close..so close -I cried out after a few minutes.
I gasped, when he suddenly stopped.
-Why did you stop? -I panted heavily.
-You will need to beg me to continue -he smirked at me deviously.
-Are you fucking kidding me? -I clenched my jaw.
-So… -he softly caressed my inner thigh, just even touched my lips between my legs- How bad do you want it?
-Vegeta, please, please -I started to beg. And there he was with his finger and tongue back in my wet pussy. He kept me still while I was riding my orgasm out on his face, pulling me in a deep kiss just after I finished.
A few seconds later I was on my knees on the floor, while Vegeta was standing in front of me, fucking my mouth without mercy. I gagged on his huge, thick cock and he enjoyed it so well. Grabbing my head and thrusted even deeper, when my eyes were tearing up. I loved his dick to be honest, he definitely knew how to use it to pleasure me.
-Get on your stomach! -he commanded me, pulling his hard shaft out of my mouth. As I walked on the bed, one of his hands grabbed my waist, the other hand grabbed the back of my neck, pushing me down hard on the bed, my ass up in the air.
-You are so fucking tight! -he moaned as he slid himself in me- Tell me how much you love my dick!
-I love it a lot, Vegeta! -I breathed heavily, trying to cope with the pleasure he caused me.
He kept pounding me harder and harder, speeding up, his balls slapping against my pussy, sloppy sounds filling the room.
-Who’s your daddy? -he hissed at me, still fucking me hard from behind.
-You are! -I moaned in delusion.
-Good girl! -he smirked arrogantly- I will never let anyone else fuck this tight pussy. It’s mine! -he growled, getting really close to his release.
One more hard thrust and I felt his cock twitching inside me, pulsing, filling me up good. He thrusted twice more, before pulling out, throwing himself next to me, breathing heavily.
-Y/N, I was serious before -he turned to face me, tucking my hair behind my ear- I’m not going to let anyone else to fuck you anymore. You are mine, only mine -he pressed his lips against mine roughly.
-Don’t worry, I’m only yours -I smiled at him, feeling the stupid love spreading in my body.
***
-Vegeta, please hurry! We will be late! -I sighed angrily, waiting for him to finally get ready.
-Like I give a fuck -he rolled his eyes, stepping out of the room. Kinda tight jeans, and shirt he was wearing, which showed his perfectly toned body just well enough. Even looking at him made me drool in an instant.
-Easy, girl. Stop eating me up with those eyes -he teased me.
-I can’t help it, you look fucking hot -I gulped, even thinking about staying home and begging him to fuck me hard. But I took a deep breath, collected myself, so we headed to Bulma’s house as we were invited for a house party.
A lot of people were already inside the house, wasted, having fun, dancing, chatting. I spotted Bulma, so I rushed towards her, Vegeta closely behind me.
-Bulma! -I hugged her tight.
-Y/N! I’m so happy you two could make it. Please drink and eat as you wish. The bar is over there -she pointed in the direction behind me- Have fun, honey! -she kissed my cheek.
From the corner of my eyes I saw Vegeta’s grin, but I acted like I didn’t notice anything. As we were wandering deeper in the crowd, Goku appeared in front of me.
-Y/N! -he picked me up quickly, spinning me around- Girl, I miss you so much! Why can’t we hang out anymore? -he put me down, looking at me sadly.
-We will find some time for that -I smiled at him in guilt.
-No she won’t -Vegeta pulled a face at Goku- She’s not going to hang out with you anymore and if you touch her once again, I’m going to rip those filthy hands of yours off and shove them up in your ass.
-Vegeta, stop! -I widened my eyes-Stop being a dick. Goku is my best friend.
-I don’t care -he shrugged.
-I’m sorry Goku, I’m going to call you, I promise -I smiled at him, sighing deeply.
Vegeta pushed everyone away from me, not letting me have any friends, especially not boys. Goku was my childhood friend, he was my best friend and I missed him terribly, feeling guilty to let Vegeta stand between us, but I loved Vegeta more than anything.
During the night Vegeta disappeared for a while, but I didn’t really mind it. Reaching the bar, noticing Goku and an unknown man chatting and laughing.
-Am I interrupting something? -I asked, smiling at the two men.
-Y/N -Goku grabbed me by my waist, pulling me into his lap- Want to drink anything?
-Please… -I begged, laughing, standing up from his lap.
-By the way I’m C17 -the unknown man stood up from the barstool, stepping close to me.
-Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N -I blushed from head to toe. The ocean blue eyes of this man crawled under my skin within a second.
-It’s my pleasure -he kissed the back of my hand.
-Uhh, be cautious , C17 -Goku laughed out loud- If her boyfriend sees this, he would kill you in an instant. A tiny bit of a maniac he is.
-Goku! -I snapped at him, even though he was totally right.
-Sorry, sorry -he scratched the back of his neck, still laughing.
A few more cocktails later I’ve been still chatting and laughing with the boys and didn’t even realize that Vegeta was nowhere to be found.
-May I have this dance? -C17 held his hand out to me as a pretty slow song popped.
-I don’t think it’s a good idea -I bit my lower lip.
-C’mon, it’s just a dance -he smiled. Oh his smile…how much it mesmerized me immediately.
As I found out he was a great dancer, leading me softly, keeping a bit of a distance as he respected I was taken. It blew my mind to experience such a gentle act against me. Vegeta would have never done this. He wouldn’t have danced with me…like never in this life, nor would have he touched me with such a softness as C17 did.
I almost cried out in agony, when the song ended and we headed back to the bar.
-He would be a better boyfriend than Vegeta could ever be -Goku leaned in and whispered it in my ear.
-Stop it -I pushed him away, shaking my head laughing. But deep down I was considering he might have said the truth.
-There you are! -Vegeta snapped at me, grabbing my arm hard, pulling me away from Goku and C17- What the fuck are you doing with these two? Whoring around?
-Vegeta, please -I gritted my teeth, not wanting to make a scene. But it was already late for that.
-Do you want to fuck my woman, huh? -he clenched his jaw in anger, looking back and forth between the two men.
-Just cool yourself down, man -C17 sighed, rolling his eyes- And I ask you to let her arm go, you grabbed it way too hard.
-Oh, you think so? -he smirked, grabbing my arm even harder, making me cry out in pain.
-Fuck is wrong with you? -I yelled at him, trying to free my arm- It hurts!
-Shut your mouth, woman! -he commanded.
Goku clenched his jaw and fisted his hand and at that moment I knew it was going to be messy. Goku punched Vegeta in the face hard enough to send him flipping over, landing on his back on the floor.
-Stop! -I stepped in front of Goku, taking his hands in mine- I beg you, please -my eyes were tearing up.
-He’s a fucking asshole, Y/N. Why don’t you see it? You deserve better than this piece of shit -he spat on the floor.
***
Heated from the alcohol and his hurted pride the second we arrived home, he attacked me and pushed me in the bedroom. Vegeta was always a dominator, but this time it was even more.
Ripping my dress off and pushing me on the bed, my back facing him. I could have felt he was already rock hard and he didn’t care how I was prepared or not. Vegeta took me in the second he got his clothes down.
-Fucking hell! -I screamed out loud, I wasn’t even wet for God’s sake. Going really rough on me caused me to gritted my teeth.
-Could you be a bit softer, please? You hurt me- I looked back at him above my shoulder, but he was in a totally different universe. Probably didn’t even hear me talking to him, focusing on pounding me as hard as he could.
-VEGETA! -I yelled from the bottom of my lungs, which sobered him a tiny bit.
-What? -he hissed in frustration, still fucking me hard from behind.
-Be more gentle, it hurts -I sighed in discomfort.
Furrowing his brows he nodded slightly, taking back from the speed and the intensity of his thrusts.
He leaned in, grabbing my breast, while keeping to pound my already sore pussy.
-You feel so good, baby…I love your tight pussy around my hard cock -he growled in my ear.
-Keep going Vegeta, I’m almost there -I lied, I wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
My words pushed him on the edge, feeling him close to his climax as well.
-Oh, fuck yes, Bulma! -he screamed, while releasing inside of me.
-WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY? -I pushed him back, causing him to pull out immediately.
-What? No, I did…I did not say anything… -he kept bubbling.
-Did you fucking call me Bulma? You piece of shit! -I turned to face him and slapped him as hard as I was able. The mark of palm drew its line on his cheek.
-I can explain! -he looked panicked.
-Oh really? REALLY? -I was raging- And how do you want to explain that you moan the name of my friend? HUH? -I clenched my jaw, as I was putting the pieces of the puzzle together- Wait a damn minute…Where have you been at the party, when you disappeared?
-What? -he was surprised by my question.
-Where were you?! -I shouted in his face- Let me guess, you’ve been fucking Bulma, right? RIGHT?!
-I’m sorry… -he sighed deeply.
-You are disgusting! -I clenched my jaw- Move! -I pushed him away, heading to the bathroom. I wanted to wash his filthy touches off of my body. Being cleaned I walked out, grabbing some clothes to put on, seeing Vegeta sitting on the edge of our bed.
-Baby, can we talk about it? -he looked at me with softened eyes. I spun on my heels and rushed out of the room without a single word.
-Y/N -Goku opened the door, rubbing his eyelids- Are you okay?
-Can I come in? -tears were running down my face uncontrollably.
-That fucking asshole -Goku clenched his jaw after I told him what has just happened.
-I was so stupid…so so stupid -I hit my forehead with my palm several times- But this time it is over! Please promise me that if I ever want to get back with that prick, you will not let it happen.
-I promise, honey -Goku hugged me tight.
***
6 months later:
Not even a single day passed without Vegeta trying to contact me somehow. I even blocked his number several times, but he immediately got a new one. Calls and texts without an ending. In some of them he is begging me to forgive him, confessing his undying love towards me and in some threatening me to be killed if I keep ignoring him.
It was a simple Tuesday evening, I just got home from work and started to cook dinner, when I heard a knock on my door.
-Who can it be? -I shrugged, heading to the door. My eyes widened seeing Vegeta standing in front of me with a beautiful bouquet in his hands.
-I got this for you -smiling softly at me, handing the flowers.
-What are you doing here? -I rolled my eyes.
-Let’s talk this through, baby. I can’t live without you, please come home. Come home with me -he breathed heavily.
-Vegeta, just leave me alone -I wanted to close the door, but he blocked it with his feet.
-Please, baby! I love you! -he kept bubbling. His eyes popped wide, when he noticed a palm on the door. As I let the door loose, it opened wide.
-She asked you nicely to leave -C17 said with a cold tone- Me on the other hand won’t be so gentle. You have like a second to turn around, before I mop the floor with your filthy face -he clenched his jaw.
-You fucking whore! -Vegeta hissed at me in an instant- We only broke up a few months ago and you are already fucking this faggot.
-Please, go inside the kitchen -C17 smiled at me softly.
The second I disappeared from his sight, he attacked Vegeta, punched and hit him as hard as he could, beating him half unconscious. Vegeta beat him up pretty much as well, but not as near as C17 did to him.
-If you don’t go home right now -C17 gritted between his teeth- you won’t be able to go home anymore. Vegeta could barely stand up, leaning against the wall.
-She’s mine! Never forget that! She will crawl back to me no matter what -he spat some blood on the floor.
-You had your chance, but you fucked up. Let me tell you a secret prick -C17 smirked- if you would have treated her the way she deserved, she would have never left you. Now it’s my chance and oh I can make you sure I’m not going to be an idiot like you! -he laughed, slamming the door on Vegeta.
#dragon ball#dragon ball z#dbz vegeta#vegeta x reader#vegeta x y/n#son goku#goku#c17#bulma#lemon#smut#dbz#yandere#one shot#fanfiction#fanfic
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ wicked games⠀ 〳 ⠀ a.hayakawa ‵
❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) the story of japan's biggest rockstar aki hayakawa
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reading discretion is advised: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy, rockstar!aki, therapist!reader, written with black reader in mind, drug usage, alcohol usage, mentions of rehab, dark content, obsessive!aki, panty stealing, panty sniffing, not even going lie don't know nothing about therapist occupation so i apologize now, mentioned bi!aki, solo masturbation, implied oral (m.receiving), implied missionary position, mentions of relationships with himeno & angel, aki's thoughts in italics, wc: 4k, loosely inspired by wicked games by the weekend. can also read & leave kudos on ao3 pls.
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — entry for @okhotel #XO♡. thee collab
HIS LEGS SPREAD APART AS HE LISTENED TO THE LADY IN FRONT OF HIM TALK. His dark eyes couldn’t stop looking at how her lips looked as she articulated every syllable of each word that rolled off her tongue. Or she would constantly switch legs to cross them so that he couldn’t get a glimpse of the panties she wore. To Aki Hayakawa’s guess, they had to be red, Fenty brand, seamless because it was tacky to wear a pencil skirt and have the seam to your panties showing—and very easy to push to the side to see her pussy lips glisten with her own slick.
What the fuck, Aki? Why are you having these thoughts about your therapist, you fuckin’ perv.
“Mr. Hayakawa, did you hear me?” Her head tilts to the side, wondering where he stared off to.
Aki clears his throat as he adjusts himself in his seat. He leans back to make himself comfortable—spreading his thighs slightly before sighing.
Once again, they’re traveling down to her lips as she repeats the question he somewhat hears. The vivid image of her pretty mouth wrapped around his cock swirled around his head—like a carousel that goes around and around. The thought of how the flat of her tongue could lick at the one vein that pops up on Aki’s cock when he’s hard. Or how those kissable lips would place a kiss on the tip of his mushroom-shaped tip, collecting his salty precum effortlessly. She’ll probably sound so pretty as she gags on his cock. She’ll look even more stunning with a thick cum shot on her face.
Fuck, Aki—there you go again.
“Your relationships with Angel and Himeno? They seem to be very prominent relationships in your life.” She says. “With Angel being your bandmate. Himeno being a longtime friend..”
“They were, but they left. Just like everyone else,” Aki let out the most depressing sigh before his eyes met with the woman in front of him. “But, I moved on. You have to do it when you’re an international Grammy-winning rockstar.”
“Did you?” Her eyebrows raised curiosity as she rolled her black ink pen around her fingers.
“Did I, what?” Aki asked.
“Get over them? If you don’t have the proper time to heal from someone leaving your life, you’re prone to turn to toxic things to help you temporarily cope rather than heal,” She explains.
Aki’s mouth went dry hearing that statement come out of her pretty mouth. The same mouth he just was visualizing his cock was buried in. He sinks further in his seat—realizing that he did cope in such an odd way regarding his past relationships. Himeno broke up with him, and he turned to drinking. Angel left him, and he turned to partying and drugs. He went to defend his actions, but the timer went off, indicating that their hour together had ended.
“I have spoken to your manager and hope to get at least two more sessions in before you go to rehab, Mr. Hayakawa.” She says. “From what I’ve been told, you’ll most likely have a different therapist, but If you’re comfortable, I can set up where we can meet virtually.”
“I would prefer that.” Aki fiddled with the silver rings on his finger before standing up. His hand went up to rub the back of his nervously. “I wish you were stuck listening to my problems all the time.” His crystal blue eyes met with hers as she chuckled at his statement.
“Goodnight, Mr. Hayakawa.”
“Goodnight.”
Their time together always ended like this. Just Aki staring at her as his crystal blue eyes examine her lips and then eye her up and down—then he’ll leave with the lewd image of how she’ll look without clothes on. It was sick that he imagined her like that. She was so kind. So sweet, delicate, endearing, and the list goes on. Sadly, despite her kindness in a world that hated his guts at the moment—he deduced her to be a sexual object. That’s because you’re sick in the head, Aki. Everything you touch, you ruin.
He pushed his hands further into his leather jacket, fishing for his box of cigarettes and lighter. He placed the nicotine-rolled stick in between his lips and lit the cigarette. His eyes stared at the shiny silver lighter engraved with his name—a present from Angel that he held onto even when it was on the verge of being used up. It was the last thing Aki had that reminded him of him. You would hold onto a little lighter if one of the people you’ve loved left you, wouldn’t you?
Aki saw his driver perfectly in the parking lot waiting for him. He is watching a lousy football game when he is supposed to call Aki immediately after his therapy sessions to ensure he doesn’t go exploring around the city. That was a specific task from Aki’s manager after his last sessions with another therapist—Aki landed a very exclusive TMZ story of his dangerous and toxic behavior. It wasn’t that bad. He only nearly cracked his skull in half because he was drunk and attempted to skateboard. Also, maybe he tried to have sex with a stranger too. That night was a complete blur.
“It’s been such a long day, but it’s Friday. Let’s go out for drinks.” He heard a familiar voice.
His eyes glanced toward the laughter and saw her—his therapist.
“Y/N, you’re the therapist of that insane rockstar Aki Hayakawa. You need it more than us.” Another woman says. “I mean, have you read the shit TMZ says about him? What has he done? You’ll probably need a session when you’re done with him.”
Aki’s fist clenched at the words that were being said about him. His head hung low as he lost his appetite to finish his cigarette. He let it fall to the ground, and his foot crushed it.
“He’s a nice person. You guys aren’t his therapist, so you wouldn’t understand. Who is buying the first round of shots at Mickey’s?” She linked arms with her co-worker and eventually walked towards the other parking lot.
Aki now walked to his driver so quickly. The dark-haired rockstar nearly startled the older gentleman when he climbed into the car. He would lean forward, smiling at the man. “Can we make a quick stop before you drop me off?” He gives the man driving him around through highs and drunken hiccups a cheeky smile.
“Your manager made it clear that I must take you home immediately, Aki.”
“That’s no fun. I’ll be quick. I’m just dropping in to say hello and then leaving. It’s just a bar I found out an old friend works at.”
Aki was good at three things. Sex, songwriting, and lying. He honestly thought lying was his best quality about himself. After all, he was sure all celebrities were good at it. Lying and saving face so your precious fans won’t view you as something else despite behind the scenes & signed NDAs, it was completely different. No matter what good morals you had in Hollywood, as long as you were a part of the celebrities—you had some dirt on you.
His driver sighed before he buckled his seatbelt. “I’m giving you fifteen minutes. If you’re not out in fifteen—”
“You’ll call my manager, and he’ll throw me back into rehab. I know the story already,” He says with a smile.
He told his driver the same bar that Y/N would be at. His ears perked up after hearing the GPS state that the bar was only ten minutes from their location. Aki was thinking about what he could say to her. Perhaps buy her a drink before she lectures him about how this environment wasn’t the safest considering his sobriety streak. Yeah, that pretty mouth of hers is going to lecture me.
The weekend for nine-to-five workers who needed a drink to hype up their relaxing weekend started some bar. His driver parked in the crowded parking lot of the bar. Aki assumed that it must have been Friday rush hour for the bar. “Just fifteen minutes.” His driver says to him before he goes back to watching the sports game he was previously watching.
“Uh-huh, sure.” Aki sarcastically admits while he climbs out of the car.
Aki walked into the bar and instantly searched for her. He ignored the murmurs of strangers who immediately recognized those crystal blue eyes from his first album cover. When he spotted Y/N in the back of the bar all alone, he knew that this was the perfect opportunity to latch onto his prey. She was alone, enjoying her Friday evening off—sipping her drink and bopping her head to the music playing. Before he could even step away, two women approached him. One of the women eyed him before the alcohol she consumed finally made her realize who she was standing in front of.
“Oh my god! You’re Aki Hayakawa! I love your music!”
Aki wasn’t sure how a person’s shrieks of excitement could also come out like a horrible slur. He forced a smile on his face glancing in the direction of Y/N. Mentally cursing at himself when he sees some guy approach her. Fuck, there goes your perfect opportunity. Get rid of him, Aki. Get him away from her.
“Can we get your autograph?” The other drunkenly asked.
“How about you find me a sharpie, and I’ll sign where ever you ladies like,” He gives them a grin and watches as their cheeks glow as bright as the pink blush sprinkled on their heated cheeks.
As if he had just assigned them to save the planet, the two of them disappeared into the crowded bar to let Aki continue his journey to claim his prey. The closer he got to Y/N, she finally noticed who was walking towards her, and her smile from the friendly conversation with the guy next to her dropped. She placed her drink on the table where she was standing and decided to bridge the gap between herself and Aki.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Her tone of voice came off as demanding, disappointing, and dreadful.
Here come the lecture and the lie.
“I’m here to meet a friend that’s in town.” Aki’s eyes soften, just like the lie he just told.
“And you couldn’t meet in a cafe or something?” Y/N asks. She didn’t even let him finish his sentence before she’s gripping at the sleeve of his black leather jacket to drag him toward the entrance.
It was a poor excuse to try to get him to bulge, “I’m not going to drink. Plus, I kind of miss the atmosphere of a bar. It reminds me of the old days when my band first started.”
“But your sobriety, as your therapist—I just don’t think this is safe at all. This friend of yours doesn’t per se have your best interest if they want to meet here of all places. Where the hell is your driver?.”
Aw, she actually cares about you.
Aki’s eyes glanced at the bar, searching for something that could cause him to stay. So that he could spend more time with her, his ocean-blue eyes twinkled, seeing the unattended pool table in the corner of the bar. “I’ll go home. Let’s just play one game of pool. Just one game.”
He watches as her lips part to argue against his decision. He knew her so well that she knew he would go back and forth with her until he got what he wanted. She pointed out that he did that a lot when communicating with people when they first met. That meeting didn’t go quite well, but it did help them grow to where they are right now.
Well, when you put it that way, Aki, you make it seem like you are together. You’re not…yet.
“I don’t even know how to play pool.” He hears her say.
“I can teach you,” Aki says. “It’s not that hard.”
He watches as her plump lips part to speak but is interrupted by the two girls from earlier—the group of women huddles around him with so many questions and comments. Not only did they find a sharpie marker, but they also brought their whole group of friends with them. Aki even could see the glare that Y/N was giving him as he was just signing women's boobs left and right. Before he could even autograph the last person, Y/N grabbed his wrist to drag him towards the exit.
“It’s time to go,” She yells as she drags him out of the bar.
When the crisp air hits both of him, he watches as she glances around, searching for his driver. “We’re going home. That environment was not safe for you. You know this, Aki.” She sighs.
As soon as Y/N spotted the luxury car, it didn’t take much as she dragged Aki towards it. She opened the door to let him climb in first before she followed behind him. She sit down next to him after giving his driver her address. The situation felt so familiar to him. His manager once dragged him out of a bar an hour before he had a concert. Yes, he had to cancel the show and nearly got dropped from his record label.
The car ride to Y/N’s place was filled with Y/N asking his driver many questions and somewhat scolding him about even letting him stop at a bar. Aki couldn’t help but chuckle at her words until he could feel the car stop.
“Goodnight, Aki. Be sure to go straight home after this. No more pit stops at any—.” Her words were interrupted by Aki.
“Can I use your bathroom?” Aki asked.
He didn’t have to use the bathroom. Just another plan to let Aki be in her presence, just a little longer. He watches as she rolls her eyes and just nods. They walked into her apartment complex, and he noticed how Y/N greeted everyone who bypassed them. Even down to the little kid hugging their father’s leg as they were in the mailroom. She was so kind. So pure.
“This seems like a nice place to stay,” Aki says as they step into the elevator.
“It’s okay. My neighbor tends to give me baked goods when she’s going through a breakout so that I could give him a listening ear.” She says. “I accept them because the guy makes some pretty good brownies.” She chuckles.
Aki chuckled, and his lips even formed a smile. When the elevator door started moving, the two were standing in silence. Aki’s hand itched to ask if she was seeing anyone. He didn’t see any wedding ring, but he didn’t want to be blindsided by a man in Y/N’s kitchen sipping orange juice out of the bottle when he entered her place. But Aki had to respect her boundaries. He followed her to her apartment, and when she unlocked the door to let the two of them in.
When Aki stepped into Y/N’s apartment, he took in his surroundings as he walked further into Y/N’s apartment. He took in her apartment, and instantly he felt at home. The lingering smell of lavender traveled up his nostrils as he glanced around the place, completely starstruck. His blue eyes scanned around the place, taking in the family photos on the wall, her massive book collection, and even her cat that brushed against his leg to get familiar with him.
“The bathroom is down the hall on the left, right near my bedroom.” She says as she slides her feet into the house slippers and kneels down to pick up her cat.
Aki nods as he watches her kiss her cat's head and mumbles about giving them some food. He made his way to the bathroom, even though he didn’t even have to use the bathroom. He selfishly wanted to savor every second with her, even if that meant pretending to have to use the bathroom. As Aki turned on the sink water, he couldn’t help but stare at himself in the mirror. He did look much better compared to months ago. Formerly, Aki didn’t look like himself. His skin was much duller as if he was two seconds away from his death. His eyes used to droop like he had difficulty sleeping on tour. Since he stopped drinking and doing drugs, he was slowly becoming himself again. Himeno and Angel would have loved that.
As he finished washing his hands, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of her. He had gone through so many therapists that he had lost count and his manager grew a headache even having to find another therapist. Y/N made him feel so comfortable. He enjoyed talking to her and being in her presence so much that he could tell he was getting attached. Obsessively attached.
It’s best not to get attached, Aki. She’ll leave you. Himeno did it. Angel did it. What makes her so different?
“She’s different. I know it.” He mumbles as he collects one of the spare hand towels that Y/N folded neatly on the shelves.
He was just drying his hands and ready to drop the towel in the basket that was in the bathroom until a particular piece of clothing caught his attention. His eyes stared at the red lace fabric as his teeth nibbled on his lower lip. A sigh of desperation exited his mouth before he eagerly dug his hand into the basket to collect the red thong on top of the laundry in the basket. He shoved the fabric deeply into his pockets and made his exit. His steps were quick towards the door to avoid Y/N, who was in the kitchen. He didn’t even bother to yell out a goodbye with the newest precious souvenir in his pocket. His heart pounded so quickly, similar to the feeling of him being on stage performing. How can such a little task like stealing your therapist's panties give off the same adrenaline rush from snorting a line of coke and then going to perform for millions of people?
It’s because you’re getting attached, Aki.
Aki Hayakawa could have any person in the world except for her. His therapist. The old him would have been furious at the thought. How can someone like Y/N not pick up that he was interested in her? Aki tonight had to respect her boundaries, respect the rules. So instead, he would only continue to live in his own delusions as he lay in bed at night staring at the ceiling. The crescent moon twinkling through the curtains and the wind blowing against his window caused his room to feel a bit colder.
I wish she were here.
Of course. Y/N could keep him warm. In many ways, he could think of it, but it was one particular way he couldn’t escape. No matter how often he thinks about something else, his mind keeps going to one vivid image. He bet she enjoyed missionary. She probably enjoyed seeing the men who pleasured her face quiver in pure bliss as they were balls deep inside her. Aki would have loved it. The mere thought caused his cock to grow hard instantly. He shifted in bed uncomfortably—realizing that his boner would bother him until he did something about it. It wasn’t like he could call up his ex-flings for a late-night hookup. In his third session with Y/N, he had already established that both of them hated his guts. Then it was beyond a reach to call Y/N. She was so clueless about his feelings toward her.
He rolled over on his back to stare up at his ceiling. The thought of her moving around in his mind caused his skin to be decorated with goosebumps. The way her lips curled into a smile sent a chill down his spine. The sound of her laughter and voice was like an intoxicating drug he didn’t want to let go of. How could she make him feel this type of way?
His slender fingers toyed with the grey sweatpants band covering his lower half. Due to the discomfort of his boner, Aki had kicked the thin grey-colored sheet off his body. The only thing that could be heard in his room was the sound of his faint breathing before he uttered a curse word and eventually rolled the sweatpants down his toned thighs. Aki’s kicking the sweatpants and boxers off quickly before making himself comfortable. He grabs his other pillow and places it behind his head to get a better view of what he is about to do. Just as Aki was about to let his hand clutch upon his cock, he remembered the little treat he had stolen from Y/N’s place that night he took her home. His lips curl into a devious smirk before he reaches in the dark oak-colored nightstand next to his king-sized bed. His hand grabbed the red lace thong he hand took as a souvenir to remember his favorite therapist.
Gosh, you have hit a low, Aki. But that’s okay. You’re so close to becoming a better person for her.
He collected some spit from his mouth before palming his cock. In Aki's mind, he just couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered how she did it. Does she let her plush lips suck on the tip while she glides her hands up and down the shaft? Does she ensure it’s covered in as much saliva as possible because the messier, the better? Any way, she did it, turned Aki on. Subtle groans reverberated by his lips as he guided his right hand up and down his shaft. He attempted so badly to mimic how he thought Y/N would do it. His left hand palmed at the red lace in his hand as he groaned out whines of Y/N’s name with each stroke of his hardened cock.
“Fuck.” Aki breathes out while letting his head fall back on the fluffy pillow propped behind his head.
His eyes watered due to the intense pleasure that felt much better than the temporary high he chased when he did drugs. This just felt so much better to Aki. It was better than the euphoric feeling after taking molly. It was better than the mellow feeling after smoking weed.
For another five minutes, Aki was palming his cock until he could feel the pit of his stomach on fire. He was so close to cumming, and he knew it would be so much of it. The grip of the red thong in his left hand was just as tight as how he massaged his pink-shaded tip before stroking his shaft once more. His eyes darted to the red thong in his hand. The thoughts he had in his mind were so sinister he knew that Satan himself was shaking his head. This was going to make him cum. He just knew it.
He brought the lace piece of fabric to his nose; the only thing he smelled was her. A comforting scent that brought him at ease but turned him on even more. If Aki concentrated hard enough, he could feel his cock twitch in the immersive grasp he had it in using his right hand. Palming it quicker than usual as he sniffs Y/N’s panties. His breathing grew uneasy with each pump of his cock. His thumb massaged his tip once more, imagining her doing this to him. That it was her who was palming his thick cock just the way he liked it. He inhaled one last sniff of Y/N’s panties before his body was forced off the pleasurable cloud of cumming. Thick ropes of cum shoot out Aki’s cock; just like he predicted, it was so much of it. He wasn’t sure if it was because he felt like the scent of Y/N’s panties was an aphrodisiac or if he was just a fuckin’ a hornball. Maybe, it was both.
As Aki finally came down from his temporary thrill, he stared up at the ceiling, completely out of breath and exhausted. His eyes glanced over at the red thong intertwined in his left-hand fingers.
Gosh, I will miss that woman when I go away.
TAGS — @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @sailewhoremoon @nanichi0 @sailewhoremoon @stunnababyyabyyy @godessofbucky @chosoguapo @zcmbi @euhmae25 @shamelesshoefairy @takemichiluvr @catherineng0909 @fushisslut @alien-arlert @lexiinanime @xphntmhvx @diorlov3er @atesumu @caribbeanwifey19 @yooniluvbot444 @planetmarz @noriken @jellymantra33 @softimgyu @maginxlia @4522-08 @444yeager @fushisslut @hyuene @ilygetou @soumies @sirenh4ll @dior-fawn @sintiva @sindicas
#aki hayakawa x reader#chainsaw man x reader#csm x reader#anime x reader#anime smut#chainsawman smut#csm smut#aki hayakawa smut
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Kink Collection - x Reader edition: Gaming
minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact.
pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
summary: Kuroo was watching you okay Mario Kart, but your naked legs are highly distracting. oh and who says no to a good challenge?
tags/cw: afab!reader, sex while gaming, unprotected sex, established relationship, aged up, let me know if i’m missing something.
word count: 1,5k
a/n: first installment of the kink collection that i have decided to write. we might be making a bit of a stretch, calling this an actual kink, but sometimes a bit of a stretch is good, eh? (i’ll see myself out—). there will be both an x reader edition and a ship edition of all kinks in time. no editing we die like men idk.
He’d been watching you play Mario Kart for quite a while. That was something he actually enjoyed a lot, even if he didn’t actually play himself. You were into it, passionate even, that was the best way he could describe it. That’s why he enjoyed watching you play. Watching the way your face was lit up in joy. Today was no different. He enjoyed watching you. But something was different today.
“That motherfff—“ you swore at the CPU hitting you off the map with a red shell.
“Mh,” Kuroo grunted, only looking up for a moment, before his eyes diverted once more. You were splayed out on your stomach on the couch, naked legs slightly spread. Kuroo‘s gaze started by your ankles and slowly caressed its way up across your calves. He knew exactly what he’d find if he was to lift his gaze further towards the hem of your t-shirt dress, barely covering the curve of your ass. He knew, because that oversized t-shirt you liked to wear around the house, barely covered you up and the small panties he knew to be scarcely hidden right under the dark fabric of your shirt had him thinking all sorts of indecent thoughts. Part of him wondered if you did it on purpose. If you were trying to send his mind straight to the gutter. Because if you were, he hated to admit that you’d succeeded. If he was being honest, he didn’t even like to admit it to himself, even as he found himself reaching out for the exposed skin of your calf.
“Tetsu–,” you yelped and looked back at him sitting on the couch, when the warm pads of his fingers brushed against your leg. “Fuck-” the controller rumbled in your hands signalling that you’d hit the wall. Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“What?” He asked, as he lightly trailed various shapes against your calf. Gooseflesh broke across your skin.
“I’m gonna lose!”
“You? Lose?” At that, Kuroo let out another deep chuckle. “I thought you said you were good at this game,” he teased, touch inching higher, leaving a burning trail in the wake of his fingers. He was right. You had said that. And you were good at Mario Kart. Really good. You’d even managed to beat Kenma on a couple of occasions, and if that didn’t speak for something, you didn’t know what did. And so you told him.
“I am good.” The thing was, that on those occasions, you hadn’t been subjected to the insistent touch of your longterm boyfriend beckoning your attention away from the screen and the game.
“Are you now?” Kuroo asked, a smirk audible in his voice as he shifted on the couch, letting his hands travel up to the plush of your thighs, ghosting the inside of your knees on the way. Despite the tingles that shot through your body, you kept your gaze fixed on the screen, determined to make up for the lost time when you’d hit the wall earlier. You were competitive at best, and Kuroo definitely knew what he was doing when he said; “Prove it.” You shot him a quick look over your shoulder.
“‘s that a challenge?”
“Definitely,” he said, caressing your inner thigh with featherlight touches as he shifted on the couch. Hovering above you, he leaned down and let his lips grace the shell of your ear, voice dropping low. “Don’t lose.” A shiver ran along your spine as Kuroo’s words settled and he reached over with his other hand, clicking the button to move on to the next game of the grand prix. All the while his other hand trailed further up, teasing the up most of your inner thighs, pushing back a little and craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your panties peeking out under the bottom of your t-shirt.
“Watch me,” you said, accepting the challenge with steely determination.
“Oh don’t worry,” he said, and you could quite literally hear the smirk in his voice. His hands moved, fingers brushing over the already damp patch forming on your panties. “I intend to.” The heat spreading across your skin intensified, prickling across your skin at the low rumble of Kuroo’s voice.
As your race started, and you mashed the acceleration button to achieve the speed boost at the beginning, Kuroo’s fingers moved fast, pushing your panties to the side and slipping his fingers through your sticky folds. Covering his fingers with your slick, your boost flopped as one finger prodded against your wet entrance, breath hitching.
“Uh-oh. Careful,” he teased and pushed further in. “Wouldn’t want to lose right from the start.” His voice was breathless, hushed, and you found yourself sucking your lower lip in between your teeth. Determinate.
As you made it through the first lap, steadily catching up and taking the lead, Kuroo let out a strained sound. He could feel the way you sucked his fingers into your warmth. He could see the way your skin flushed. But you weren’t slipping up. His patience was though. It slipped and his cock was throbbing relentlessly in his boxers. He needed to feel you. and he needed it right then and there. And thus, he was going to have you. Slipping his fingers from your heat, Kuroo coaxed your hips to rise as he ripped your panties out of his way. His own clothes followed close behind. Shirt torn over his head and both jeans and boxers kicked off, slipping down to the floor.
“Kuroo—“ His cock jumped as you whined his name and instinctively spread your legs further open for him to position himself behind you.
“You’re so fucking hot like this.” The couch dipped and a moment later you felt him pressing against your entrance. “So hot,” he repeated and pushed against you with a hand splayed across your back, the other guiding his cock, as he wasted no time before pushing the tip inside.
“F-fuck—“ the hiss whistled past your lips before you had the chance to stop it, as Kuroo’s cock speared you. Steady, swiftly, he sank inside to the hilt. His fingers curled, digging into the skin of your spine.
“Shit,” he agreed. Letting his head fall, forehead resting against your shoulder, you tried not to let the feeling of him filling you up distract you. “Keep going,” he murmured, turning his head to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. Biting your neck you nodded.
Kuroo didn’t stop. He did not spend time letting you adjust. He knew the two of you fit well together after numerous years together. He knew what made you tick and what you could take, you’d made sure of that. So Kuroo didn’t halt. Instead he sunk his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder and pulled back, just to dive back in and skillfully set a pace he knew you liked. A pace you’d guided him into multiple times.
As Kuroo bullied his cock into you again and again, your skin felt scorching and your grip on the controller tightened until your knuckles turned white. His hands snaked around your body, underneath your shirt, teasing lightly across your skin on their way to your chest. Fingers rolling your nipples, making you yelp in surprise.
The fourth and last race of your grand prix had started and with Kuroo repeatedly drilling his cock inside of you, your head was spinning and concentrating got harder and harder, although you did manage to keep your lead intact.
“Kuroo please, I’m—“ your body was hot. Your walls constricted and your stomach had turned into a tight familiar knot.
“Win first. Then— then you can cum.” Kuroo groaned, slowing his pace. One hand made it’s way between your body and the couch, pressing down against your clit. His fingers slowly circled your nub, almost lazily in tact with his now slowed pace. The whine that sounded deep in your throat had his chuckling. “Almost there, baby,” he mumbled against your ear. And he was right. You were almost there. You were. The finishing line was in sight and you’d cross it in a matter of seconds. You clamped down around him, silently begging him to go faster. No. To go harder. You were almost there. You were going to win.
Kuroo snapped his hips hard, slamming into you with a brutal force, as if on queue, the moment you passed the finishing line and the word goal graced your screen. The controller clattered onto the floor and a loud moan ripped from your chest. His fingers pressed down harder, his cock harshly thrusting into your cunt, ripping the moans from you, rapidly forcing you towards your climax, and mercilessly shoving you over the edge.
Your orgasm hit you hard, pleasure washed over your body, and clamping down on Kuroo’s cock just right, he tumbled right over the edge with you with a series of sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts and a babbling of praises against the skin of your neck.
#kink collection#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou smut#kuroo smut#kuroo x reader smut#haikyuu smut#kuroo x reader#what do i tag?#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu fanfiction#ficlet#useradrienne
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