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lokischocolatefountain · 1 month

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Denial || Men Like Me

Part 2 of the Men Like Me series. Part 1

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girthy age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), masturbation (male & female), cis fem reader, descriptions of reader's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, Joel ignores you until he can't, slightly insecure reader, very insecure Joel, corruption kink, mild fem!dom, reader turns the tables a little, name calling, fetishization of virginity, face fucking (not the mouth, but cheek), kneeling, stripping, moneyshot, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 10.4k Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. A/N: The reception that chapter 1 got gave me enough serotonin to keep me going, you guys. I hope everyone likes this chapter at least half as much if not as much as the first one. Even the half would give me a lot of joy. And do say hi in my inbox or my asks. I would loooove to talk about these two. As always, pleaaaaaase give me reblog and/or a comment to recharge my writing batteries. Most importantly, a big thanks to @tobuildahomeinthewoods because the smut part was from their idea in the last chapter's comments .

“Long day, huh?”

“What?” you asked, your brain taking a second too long to process the words. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you said, going back to your glass of whiskey.

“I heard about the kids. They gotta be more careful,” Tommy said, looking to his brother for some kind of confirmation. Joel nodded hesitantly, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. So cavalier like he didn’t fuck you with that very finger. Asshole.

“Yeah, yeah. Climbing trees is not wise,” you agreed, willing yourself to look away from his brother. You didn’t want to get caught staring, or worse glaring. The chatter of the dinner crowd at the Tipsy Bison drowned into the sound of you tapping your fingers on the wood counter of the bar. You got up abruptly, the bar stool going down from the force of your actions. You bent over to pick it up, a hand moving to your chest instinctively to keep from flashing everyone. With no such protection for your ass, you could feel familiar eyes on them. Eyes that you’d become accustomed to having on you no matter the distance.

“You ok–” Tommy began, but you cut him off.

“You have a good one, Tommy,” you said, grabbing your bag from the bar counter and slinging it over your shoulder. “I gotta go. I’m really tired.”

Like the fool that you were, you picked your glass up and downed the rest of the whiskey, your throat rejecting the choice with a cough that had you spit out half of the burning liquor. Great. Now you’d have to wash your scrubs before going to bed so it didn’t stain. Fucking great.

There were some protests from the younger Miller brother, some words of concern. But you ignored him as you hurried out of the Tipsy Bison and into the night. At least one of the Millers had some manners. And it wasn’t the one that broke into your house and showed you what a clitoris was. It was fucking embarrassing that he was ignoring you after that. Even more embarrassing that you had to learn it from a random guy when you were the one poring over anatomy textbooks trying to become a doctor. You should know anatomy better than anyone else. Your mentor should’ve taught you. You’d learned how to conduct a safe childbirth. Even been allowed to close up the last c-section patient. But you didn’t fucking learn how the baby got in there.

Alright well, you did. But you hadn’t been told about some of the especially sensitive parts of the body that would be involved in the process.

You tossed your bag on your couch, got yourself some cookies that you traded for last week and climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t a nutritious dinner, but it filled your tummy. It came in handy when you didn’t want to spend time chopping vegetables and boiling pasta or whatever the hell you had to do to cook.

Your bedroom had become your prison in the last two weeks. You felt trapped, unable to see beyond it. How could you, when it ironically was right here that you found freedom?

Even as you did something as mundane as eating cookies on bed and spilled crumbs on your sheets like a child, the chair in front of your dressing table was in sight. From where you sat, you could see very clearly the scratch on the black paint that revealed the light wood underneath. Evidence of how you had to hold on to dear life as Joel worked your pussy expertly. Like he knew it as well as he knew the tools of his trade. Like weaving his fingers between your folds was as familiar to him as it was for you to weave through skin with your suture needle and thread.

You felt yourself dripping at the mere memory of his thick fingers pumping away inside you, unraveling the fibers of your being. The sight of him at the bar– his finger tracing the rim of the glass– it took you to the memory of that very finger teasing your pussy.

The pornographic magazines, the entertainment for men, no longer saw the light of day from their box under your bed. Pictures of nude women you wanted to model yourself after in order to be attractive to men no longer sufficed. All you strived for now was to be attractive to him. To be strung like a puppet in his hands while all he seemed to want was to get away from any place where you were.

You felt a pang in your chest as you recalled the first time you went to the house of worship after your time with Joel to find that he’d been replaced with the younger Miller. Tears stung in your eyes as you felt rejected by his absence. Like he no longer wanted to be in the same room as you, hammer nails into wood as you spoke to your fellow townspeople about their wellbeing. You told yourself it was just a temporary thing. That the brothers just liked to alternate shifts and he would return soon to fix the windows that shattered during a storm in the winter.

He never came.

You’d never experienced such rejection before. You’d never wanted before. To want was to risk rejection, to feel the pit in your stomach as you felt now. You never wanted to feel less than, undesirable, unwanted. So you pulled away from all the men you dated. If you could even call that dating. Maybe it was your own fault for thinking it would be easier with Joel. What did you think? That he would fold immediately because you showed off your legs and touched his arm and pushed your breasts out to present your femininity?

Naive, stupid girl.

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.”

Something twisted in your belly and you lied down, pulling your covers over you as though it would contain the shame coursing through you.

You probably looked silly to him, like a little girl playing adult. Like a kitten picking a fight with a lion. Less than half his age, just a fucking preschooler on outbreak day when he would’ve been a fully grown man. Maybe already beginning to gray, the skin by his eyes crinkled from the years he spent smiling at and wooing women. Why would he want a girl? He’d want a real woman. Someone like Tommy’s wife, perhaps. Someone he wouldn’t have to teach.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man?” his taunt rang cold in your ear, sending chills down your spine like he was still behind you, fingers buried deep inside the most intimate part of you. You pressed your thighs together, heat pooling between them as it always happened when you thought of what he did to you.

Shame didn’t deter you as you brought your fingers to your pussy, brushing one against your clit with curiosity. With fear. It felt so good, like its sole purpose went beyond the animal need to survive and propagate. You bypassed it to touch your weeping slit, more comfortable with what you were already used to for carnal pleasure.

Your own fingers had always been enough. Out in the wilderness when you needed to release pent up energy. After long days at the clinic and sharing notes with the other students. When you were tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep. Your fingers always took you to where you needed. You were always satisfied.

Not anymore.

You whined as the different angles you tried failed to work. The physical pleasure was the same. But not quite like how it felt with him. His hand was larger, his fingers longer and thicker. He showed you sports inside you that you’d never been able to touch yourself. Maybe this was what people meant when they said ignorance was bliss. Knowledge of pleasure you could have but couldn’t give yourself was torture.

As much as you resented Joel now, you couldn’t help but conjure images of him as you brought yourself closer to release. His deep brown eyes, his large hand that he wrapped around your throat, the way he carried you from your chair and deposited you on your bed. Like a human being weighed nothing to him. Like you were his toy that he could bury his fingers in, play with and set aside when he was done, when he was bored. Entertainment for Men came to your mind again and you cried like you never had at your own touch.

Your thighs trembled as you imagined yourself as one of those women in the magazines, but only for him. Entertainment for Joel. Splayed out on the center page for him to look at and fuck his hand to. You wouldn’t mind being tangible entertainment. Laid out on his bed, limbs arranged in an attractive manner for him, so he could access whatever part of your body he wanted to play with. To be bent to his will and fucked, to be used, given an affectionate pat on your pussy and put away when you’d outlasted his needs only to be given attention when he wanted to get off the next time.

You shook uncontrollably, your eyes squeezed shut and the world went blank as you reached your peak. You pulled your spare pillow to your chest, needing some physical comfort after experiencing such a high. You wished it were him instead of an inanimate object. That he would make you feel good and hold you and kiss you all over. That he would stay when you woke up the next day and do it all over again.

Once the haze of your orgasm cleared up, you cringed at the feelings it had brought out of you. How stupid… Wanting a man who broke in, fucked you with his fingers, and began ignoring you like you did something horrible to him. Fuck Joel Miller and fucking his stupid fucking face. As he said, there were other men in the town. Men who wouldn’t ignore you.

⌘

“How are the windows lookin’?”

“Fixed ‘em up in time for the cold winds. No thanks to you, fuckin’ asshole.”

“Sorry. Y’know I ain’t the church going type.” It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t the church kind before Sarah died and he certainly wasn’t anymore. That the young aspiring doctor he fingered in her bedroom was the real reason behind him swapping work would remain his secret.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled, playing with the now cold fries on his plate. “It ain’t a church, by the way. Maria keeps correctin’ me. It’s the house of worship.”

Joel rolled his eyes at that. He got the reasoning behind it. The town had people who believed in different Gods and had different religions. Calling the place a Church would be as unfair as calling it a– whatever, he didn’t know any other kind of place for worship. But it still pissed him off when his little brother came to him and went on about something his wife said.

Go off and do whatever your wife tells you, motherfucker.

No matter how he tried, the snide voice in his head that hated Maria never went away. He never said anything to her or Tommy. Maria was decent to him too, unlike the time he first arrived with Ellie. She trusted him with Miles. Invited him and Ellie over to family dinners. But they kept their interactions to a minimum, as though there’d been a silent agreement that it was best they kept it civil so as to not sow discord in the family.

“Whatever. No point in worshiping, be it Jesus or whatever stuff they got goin’ these days.”

A shudder went down his spine, triggered by the talk of religion. As it became colder, Ellie had begun to revert to the empty shell of a child she was after the events in Colorado. There’d been grifters in the past hiding behind religion to cheat people out of their money, to damage children irreparably while preaching the word of God. The end of the fucking world somehow didn’t stop them from going on. Didn’t stop people from believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful guy in the sky was still watching and would protect them.

If what protected people was God, guns were God. And Molotov cocktails. Sharp rocks and shoelaces.

Ellie didn’t tell him much, but from what he could piece together, it was a religious group with one guy leading them. And they were fuckin’ cannibals. Sounded like a goddamn cult.

“It’s a nice place to meet people,” said Tommy, snapping him out of his descent into the void of the recent past.

Joel simply snorted and took a sip of his glass of water. He couldn’t handle his alcohol like he used to. Age and that he had been off his usual cocktail of oxy and whiskey for a long time now. He had to resort to having a lot of water to sober himself up after the occasional evening drinks with Tommy.

“What? It is! I go there, catch up with everyone in town. Usually people go there when they’re going through some shit. It makes them feel conscious if you visit their house. So I just run into ‘em at the Chu– house of worship– and I just talk to them about their lives ‘n see if there’s anything I can do for them.”

“Guess you’re right,” he said, slotting his thumbnail in the ridges on the bar counter absentmindedly, scraping off bits of the old softening wood.

He could go again. Only so many days he could ignore you. But the reminder of the shame coursing through his veins when he saw you this evening made him shake the thoughts off. There was no way he could be anywhere you were without shriveling up and dying of embarrassment.

You were so young.

Relatively unblemished by the world. A fuckin’ virgin. Never known the touch of a man and moaning his name as you touched yourself.

Nope, nope, nope. Shouldn't have gone there, he thought as he felt himself hardening in his pants. Shouldn’t his dick be non-functional by now? He was dangerously close to sixty and spent a good two decades without adequate nutrition. Shouldn’t that be enough to turn his dick limp forever?

“Come over tomorrow, then. We’re doin’ a little memorial thing in the back of the house of worship. That young doctor’s idea, actually. She put the idea forward at the last council meeting. Thinks it’ll help people to have something physical to remember their people by.”

Young, sweet, and so fucking thoughtful.

Not meant for men like him.

Yet he went the next day.

The topic of Sarah hung in the air around him and Tommy like a fog beyond which they couldn’t see. It sat heavy in his chest, the memory of his baby and worse, everything his shit brain had forgotten. He remembered that she gave him shit, mocked him over everything. But she didn’t have a voice in his head anymore. He could describe the sweetness of her voice, but it no longer sounded out in his mind. No matter how hard he tried.

Her favorite color was purple and she loved soccer. He couldn’t recall the name of her team. She loved reading. He didn’t remember her favorite author. She liked animated movies. He couldn’t remember a single one. Just the vague memory of her falling asleep on his lap as cartoon characters chirped away on tv. Even her face was beginning to blur. When he recalled her features, it was only through images of the last seconds of her life.

“We could just do alphabetical order. Simple.”

“Not really,” you said, scribbling lines on the paper. “We get new people in the town sometimes and we don’t want the names they add to stand out, away from the alphabetically ordered list. Might make them feel bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about age?” Tommy suggested.

“Still the same problem. It would force newcomers to have their own separate list at the bottom.”

“How about a first come first serve system? We tell people when we’re taking names down for the memorial and they can come over, form a queue and give us the names they want included. That way, people can keep the names of the people they love in one spot on the memorial instead of having it scattered all over because of age or alphabetical order.”

“What do you think, Joel?” Tommy asked, making him fold his arms over his chest and sigh. He didn’t give a shit. But that wasn’t the most amicale thing to say when someone was trying to do an objectively good deed. Unlike the other people in this town, he didn’t deserve to add the names of his people to a memorial. He failed in protecting them. He didn’t deserve to mourn like he wasn’t the reason they went into early graves.

“Yeah, ‘s good. I agree.” He said, finding no faults with your proposal to order the names of the deceased by the order in which people gave it to ‘em. He didn’t know why he was being asked all this. It wasn’t like he was on the council like them. He was just takin’ measurements when he got dragged into this.

“How many names do you think we’ll get?” Tommy asked him in yet another attempt to get him involved.

Taking pity on his brother, he began a rough estimate of the number of names they’d get for the memorial and how much surface area they’d need for carving them in. “Six hundred people in town. Babies don’t have names to give. Kids wouldn’t have too many and if they had any, it would be on their parents’ list too. How many kids in this town?”

It was a fucking nightmare, sitting there at the table with you and doing calculations when all he wanted was to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to his place. Make you pose like you were posing in front of your mirror that day. Like women in those porno magazines he sneaked into his teenage bedroom and jerked off to. The fuck were you even thinking? Door left open, tits out, fingers in your cunt and his fucking name on your lips.

Did you notice him at your door and decided it would be a fun trick to play on an old man? Or did you always scream his name when you fucked yourself? When was the first time? Did you always come so prettily on your own fingers like you came on his? Being in the dark drove him crazy. But part of him felt that getting the answers would drive him absolutely fucking insane.

The thought alone was enough to make him feel uncomfortable in his pants. He adjusted himself on his seat and looked away from you, afraid that somehow you’d be able to tell that he was having improper thoughts about you when you were talking about honoring the dead. If thinking about you sexually in a church was bad, he was sure it was worse to think it when you were trying to help people memorialize their dead.

You had an air of innocence about you. The brightness of your eyes and the way you moved your hands about as you planned the details of this memorial and scribbled them out on your little notebook. He’d been attracted to that innocence from the very start. A rare thing to find out in the world. When even babies were born into violence and oppression, innocence was a luxury no one even thought to acquire.

A virgin, too.

His cock twitched in his pants. He gulped and looked around to check if anyone had caught his shameless response. Nope.

He was surprised you were a virgin. For all your innocence, you were also fucking beautiful. There were plenty of guys in town. Ladies too, if you liked that. Anyone would’ve snatched you up quick and made sure to show you a world of pleasure. It didn’t take him long knowing you to give in to temptation. It was fucking impossible that no man had worshipped with his head between your thighs. That no man who saw you in your pretty little dresses bent you over and filled you up with his cock.

You were beautiful. Even more so when you came on his fingers. Made all those pretty little sounds. The way you said his name… Nobody had said it like that in such a long time. Not even Tess.

It rang in his head whenever he found himself alone at home. Being in possession of your panties didn’t help matters. White cotton. Innocent. Covered in your dried up release. When he left that day, he made sure to suck on his fingers. Moaned like a fucking creep while going down your stairs. Eyes closed, he could still taste you on his tongue. After so many days. A little tangy with a hint of salt from your sweat and all woman.

It had been embarrassingly long since he felt like a man. He’d been father, brother, smuggler, and father again. But long since he was just man. Never someone desirable. Out there, sex was just for release. Purely biological. The end of the fucking world did not afford good hygiene. You fucked someone because they were the safest option. Not because you were attracted to them.

You, however… You had others in this town. You were here before him. Younger, smarter, with a body that worked perfectly fucking well. You could have anyone but it was his name you were moaning out in the privacy of your room.

He grunted as your voice crept back into his mind. The ‘Joel, please’, and the ‘Sir’.

He grabbed on to the railing as his thighs trembled, afraid he would have an embarrassing fall. His breaths grew quicker and his mind void of everything but you.

On your knees. On your back. On your front so he could fuck you from behind. Your hand around his cock. Your lips stretched out around him as you struggled with his size. Fistful of your hair as you begged for release. Please, Sir. Please, Joel. The heat of your tight velvety cunt. Tears blurring your wide eyed innocence as he stretched out your rear hole. He wanted to take you everywhere, leave you burning with him. Mark you so deep every man you let in after you would know who fucked you first.

It didn't take long. The mental images of you were far too effective. His last time was too long ago. He was too old to last. Too old to want you. Somehow the reminder only pushed him further along. Sticky white cum coated your panties, mixing your scent with his. The mirror showed him a reflection of himself. Old, gray, crow’s feet by his eyes. He dropped your panties in the hamper, the warmth of his own release on his hand and the shame on his face sobering him up quickly.

He wanted to teach you sin. But you had taught him more of it already than you would ever know.

⌘

“Cool jacket, dude!”

“Uh…thanks. I traded for it years ago” you said, digging your thumb nail between the teeth of the zipper. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it worked well on cold nights that weren’t cold enough to warrant a sweater. “Is Joel in? I need to talk to him about a building project.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I mean, he was awake half an hour ago when I left, but he could be in dreamland by now. Cause he’s old.”

“Ah. Of course,” you said, smiling awkwardly at the girl. Joel’s kind of, sort of daughter. You were closer to her than Joel in age. You rolled the memorial plan tighter and tighter, your hands needing to be occupied with something as your mind reeled at the inappropriateness of your desires.

“I’ll make sure I don’t wake him up,” you said before leaving the girl to return to her group of friends.

He was old enough to be your father. It should disgust you, scare you. Maybe it would’ve if you’d had an actual father in your life. A point of reference to know how vile a man of that age would have to be to want a girl your age. You tried to force some disgust into your veins, hoping that would help in putting out the fire in you that threatened to consume you whole. But it was hard to convince yourself that this was wrong when he’d made you feel so good.

Your fingers had become inadequate overnight. If his fingers were so powerful over you… You shuddered to think what he could do for you with his penis. It had to feel better. The organ was made for it, unlike fingers.

You stopped outside his door and knocked without giving it a single thought. If you’d thought about it, you would’ve fled. It had already taken you hours to muster up the courage to make the walk to his house with the draft sketches for the memorial. You wouldn’t let your desperation ruin it.

He looked surprised to see you, mouth opening and closing as though he’d forgotten how to process language. His dark brown curls and the silver that decorated it sat messily atop his head. Like he’d run his fingers through it. An old t-shirt stretched over his chest and struggled against his arms. A pair of dark sweatpants sat on his hips, the drawstrings hanging in the front.

“Hey? Uh…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing a hand up to his face and scratching his beard. Why was that hot? You had to be out of your fucking mind.

You cleared your throat and looked up into his eyes. “Does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never come here, so I thought…”

“I’m here about the memorial plans. I have a few designs I want to run by you,” you said, holding up the rolled up sheets of paper.

“Ah. That. Sure, uh come in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to allow you passage. You looked around his house, careful to seem disinterested so he didn’t have more reasons to think you were a stupid little girl pining after him just because he made you come once.

Shit. He probably already thought that.

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me.”

You swallowed at the reminder as he led you to the dining table and offered you a seat. You looked around while he cleared the table. Plates, tools, some worn out novels. So he was the messy sort. You didn’t know who you would be if you’d had the chance to just be. You didn’t know if you would leave things lying around like that if you’d had a normal start to life. Like Joel. Like the others who were old enough to remember life before the cordyceps.

The place didn’t scream Joel Miller. There were no personal artifacts decorating his living room. No framed art. No books. No throw pillows or even a blanket on the couch.

You knew what it was like to have nothing in your house. When you were still new to the town and it hadn’t hit you yet that you were allowed to have your own things. Collect stuff and not worry about having too many things to carry with you when you had to run. You didn’t own anything you couldn’t fit into your backpack. And you took that backpack everywhere when you managed to step outside your new house.

But over time, you’d decorated your house. People you helped out at the clinic often gave you things as a token of their gratitude. Kids drew pictures for you. A lady once gave you the art off her wall that the previous owner had put up. Tommy and Maria gave you a new sweater that she’d knit when she was pregnant. New yarn from new wool from the town’s sheep. The first time you ever got something truly new.

“No decorations, huh?”

“What?”

“You don’t have any decorations here,” you pointed out again and licked your lips nervously.

“Uh, yeah. Not really the priority. Have’ta trade wisely. Can’t be gettin’ pictures when ya need bread.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But you don't have to trade for it, you know? You could put up something of what’s in the house already. Surely the previous owners left some stuff.”

“They did. Traded ‘em all for things we need. Fresh fruits, bullets, that kinda shit.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be framed art. You could cut up a nice picture from a magazine or something.”

Joel looked up from the plans, head tilted and an eyebrow raised. Shit! Of course he thought you were talking about your magazines with the naked women.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you said, your voice coming out squeaky. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and looked down at the plans.

“Let’s discuss the plans,” he said, his voice all gruff and his tone so stern.

“I-I- uh… May I use your restroom?” you asked, unable to look him in the eye after what you’d said. After how he’d reacted. You really didn’t mean it like that. But you could see why that would be hard to believe when the last time he saw you, you had a box full of those men’s entertainment magazines on your bed and one open in front of you as you touched yourself.

Touched yourself and moaned his name.

“Upstairs, second door to the left.”

You squeaked out a thanks before you bolted out of his dining room and made your way up the stairs. There were two bathrooms. One decorated with band posters and a poster of a girl with weirdly cut black hair sitting on a motorcycle. Had to be Ellie’s. The second door to the left was another bathroom. Joel’s, apparently. There was just one bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a pot of toothpaste. No shampoo bar. You pulled the toilet seat and lid down before taking a seat.

You let out a groan and planted your face in your hands. Why the hell did you have to go and make it awkward like it wasn’t already that way. After he made you come that day, he’d refused to be anywhere near you. You hoped it was just coincidence, but after over a week it became undeniable that he was avoiding you.

He probably thought you were going to catch feelings. A girl in one of the romance novels you read fell in love with a guy who took her virginity. And there was the time you overheard this guy talking about not wanting to sleep with a girl because she was a virgin. He was afraid she would catch feelings and get clingy.

Now here you were in his bathroom because you thought it was wise to make small talk and ended up insinuating he should put up dirty pictures on his wall. You could scream. But you wouldn’t. There was already enough awkwardness with him.

You could always jump out of the window and run off to your house. Never speak of this again. Pretend nothing happened if Joel tried to talk to you about it. But something told you that he wouldn’t. He would probably be happy if he never had to interact with you again. You had been acting desperate. He caught you touching yourself moaning his name, for fuck’s sake!

Your hands, permanently dry from all the times you scrubbed them clean for your patients, found some moisture from your salty tears. It was embarrassing, sitting in the bathroom of a guy who wanted nothing to do with you after you scared him off with your stupid little infatuation.

You were a grown woman. Still young, but too old to be acting like this. You should have some experience already. Not sniffling over a man more than twice your age. He was right. He had been a grown man with experience longer than you’d been alive. Of course he wanted nothing to do with you.

The window looked more and more attractive as the seconds passed. It had been a while since you did something like that. You didn’t need to jump out of buildings or trees anymore. You didn’t go on patrols like some residents. With no need to fight for your life and having all the food you could need to never go hungry even once, you’d become a little unfit. If you broke a bone jumping out of Joel’s bathroom window, there would be questions. And everyone would know. You’d have to avoid the whole town instead of just Joel.

You’d just have to face it. Even if facing it was doing as little as just bidding him goodbye and bolting out of his house without an explanation. You got off his toilet and pressed the flush just so he didn’t think you were weird. Like it fucking mattered. He already found you weird and desperate.

You washed your hands, letting the water wash away the tears on your hands before wiping your wet hands over your face in an attempt to remove traces of your crying.

You should’ve just left after that. Not looked around. Not snooped like a creep. You didn’t ever dig. You didn’t have to look too deep to catch it. But a sliver of white peeked out through the netted walls of the laundry hamper. A sliver of white cotton with a light blue stitch.

Without second thought, you dug into his dirty laundry. You came up with the white cotton fabric, going straight to the gusset where the blue thread stitched the fabric pieces together. The original stitch had given out and you sewed it back together just some time back. The blue thread was all that you had at the time.

As though the sight of your panties in Joel’s bathroom wasn’t jarring enough, next came the smell. Of you. Your cum. You felt practically hear your own heartbeats as you recalled how he’d cleaned you up with your own panties. You recalled that he stuffed the fabric in his pocket as you lied on your bed, pussy still pulsating from his handiwork, brain melted, and life changed forever.

You took another whiff of your panties, goosebumps raising the hairs on your body as you felt it. Your cum and something else. It was still damp.

Blood rushed back up to your face and you felt yourself getting tense.

This fucker. How dare he? You’d been embarrassed just a minute ago over your desires and he was doing this the whole time? Noticing you on the streets and running away for days. Running back to his home where he kept your fucking panties, apparently. Avoiding you for so long only to cum in your panties.

So he wanted you.

If not you, he at least wanted sex. Dirrty old man who liked attention from you, but you weren’t even disgusted. Just angry he was pretending to be better than that. He could’ve used any old rag, but he used your panties.

You brought your defiled panties back up and smelled them again. Strangely, it smelled something like bleach. Or you could be wrong. You’d never… You didn’t know what a man’s release was supposed to smell like. Was it different for each man or did they all smell the same?

Wetness pooled in your panties as you imagined him touching himself. Large rough hand wrapped around himself. Did he think of you when he did it? Think of you naked in your bedroom and taking his fingers? What did his penis look like? What would it feel like? Soft? Rough? You’d wondered about having one inside you, but never about a particular man’s anatomy. But this was Joel. Joel was the only one who’d gotten this far in your head.

He couldn’t deny it to you anymore. If nothing else, you could at least call him out for ignoring you when he was wiping his ejaculate off with your stolen panties.

“Joel!” you called out before your fears could talk you out of confronting him. Unsure if he would’ve heard you, you opened the bathroom door and yelled his name out again. “Joel!”

“What?”

“Come up here!”

“What happened?”

“Just come here.”

You heard him sigh, the sound followed by the typical grunts and groans he made when standing up. Fuckin’ old man, ruining your life. Ruining your self-confidence. Ruining your fucking panties. His heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as he climbed up, the sound getting louder as he got closer to the bathroom.

“Why were you screaming my name like y–” he stopped mid scold, frozen in place by the door as he saw what you had in your hand. He opened and closed his mouth, as though attempting to explain but deciding otherwise. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

“Do you not have rags, Joel?” you taunted, taking a step towards him and enjoying seeing him step back. You felt powerful, moving a large man with just your voice. It was very unlike how he made you feel all the days he ignored you. Weak, insignificant, undesirable.

“You weren’t meant to– Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Which part are you apologizing for? For breaking into my house and touching me? For ignoring me ever since? For stealing my underwear? Or for doing whatever you did with it?”

You moved him out of the bathroom, making him walk backwards in the hallway you hoped led to his bedroom. Even if it didn’t, you’d be fine. You’d exact revenge in any place you can. As long as you got to make him feel the way he made you feel. Pleasure. Shame. Want.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

You took your last step towards him, finally trapping him against a wall. You stood close enough to place your hand on his chest. You licked your lips, the rock hard muscles beneath your touch storing itself away in your mind for later use.

“Imagine what would happen if I told someone? You sister-in-law, perhaps… She hates you, doesn’t she?” You smirked, though you were screaming on the inside. You didn’t know where you got all this courage from. You didn’t know you had it in you to threaten a man as imposing as Joel.

He turned pale, his hands up against the wall in surrender. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t tell you the truth that it was to keep himself from touching you. “Please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do this again, I swear.”

“Maybe I want you to do this again…”

“You don’t. Trust me.”

“Shh!” You said, placing your index finger on his lips. Pink, perfectly shaped, and so damn kissable. “Don’t tell me what I want. You ignored me ever since you walked into my house without my permission and shoved your fingers inside me. I was walking around town believing I wasn’t good enough for big old Joel Miller. What did you say? That you’ve been experiencing longer than I’ve been alive?”

You raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t answer. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Why were you coming in my panties then if I didn't measure up? ”

“I won’t do it ag—” he groaned when you grabbed his cock through his pants. He let out a low grunt and his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck as he swallowed. You replaced your index finger with your thumb, tracing his trembling lips as you lazily stroked his cock with your other thumb.

He filled your whole hand and there was still more. It took everything in you to not moan at the sheer size of him. To not grind your belly against it to feel it against you. You didn’t know how big it was supposed to be, but the romance novels you read always described the big ones as more desirable.

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I asked why. Why did you steal my panties, Joel Miller?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you come on it? Don’t fucking lie to me cause I can fucking smell you on it.”

“I did. I jerked off with it.” You had to choke back a moan at that. No, you had to be strong. Show him you could take the upper hand just like he did with you. You weren’t a little girl with a crush. You were a woman and you could have this effect on a grown man. You refused to be discounted with a pat on your pussy no matter how much you wanted him to touch you like that again.

“Mmm. And that’s enough to get you going. Just a pair of my panties.”

“Mhmm.”

“Show me how you did it.”

“What?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

“Show. Me. How you did it.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, his hand coming up to stroke the base of his neck. “Wh-What?”

You felt your heart thud against your ribs and if you didn’t know from experience and your textbooks, you’d have been afraid that he could hear it. You’d never done anything so daring. You were the timid girl when it came to this stuff. That the thought even occurred to you was a testament to how much you desired Joel. Not just to sleep with any guy, but to have Joel. Without a word, you reached under the skirt of your dress and tugged your panties down.

He inhaled sharply as you bent down and came back up with your panties. Undyed white fabric, a little green ribbon in the shape of a bow stitched to the front, gusset a light gray from your wetness.

“Show me. I want to see what you were doing in your bathroom with my panties after ignoring me everyday,” you said, taking his hand and forcing the fabric into it. His hand curled around it and you found yourself feeling lighter. You didn't know how long you could keep up the brave front if he continued to have no response.

“Take your clothes off.”

It was like something changed the moment you gave him the garment. His eyes were on you, his gaze unrelenting. He took a step ahead and you stepped backward. His lips curled up in a smirk. It seemed playtime was over… Like a lion letting the cubs play at predation before taking over to show how hunting was really done.

You didn’t know if you were ready for that… Sure it was nothing he’d never seen before, but it was different. The last time, you didn’t do it with the intention to have him see you. He just happened to see you bare and you didn’t cover up when you realized.

“I don’t have a box full of dirty magazines. I need to see somethin’,” he said, his eyes going down your frame like they had every right to be there. “Or you could leave these,” he said, holding your panties up in front of your eyes, “and run back home. What d’ya say?”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you reached behind to find the zipper of your dress. You weren’t going to run off. Not when you’d been desperate for so long to do something, anything with him. Cold air kissed your back as you pulled the zipper down and the hairs on your body stood up in full attention. You pushed the sleeves off your shoulder and shimmied out of the dress, standing in just your dress in front of him.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked you up and down. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down. He radiated superiority, putting you in some kind of a daze. “Your bra too. Show me your tits.”

The crudeness had more wetness pooling between your legs. You nodded wordlessly, afraid that pathetic whimpers would be the only sound you’d make under his gaze. You reached behind and felt around for the clasp of your bra. With his eyes piercing into you, you failed to find it quickly like you usually did. Your mouth dried up, your tongue sticking to the roof.

He made no effort to help. A mocking smile assumed its place on his lips as he watched you struggle in front of him.

When you finally managed your task and stood fully naked, he stood up straight. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. You felt like a piece of meat placed in front of a starving man. Just seconds ago, you were telling yourself you didn’t need his approval, that this would just be revenge. But as he evaluated your body, your pussy wept with the need for your body to be nothing but what he liked.

“Room’s that way.” He nodded in the direction of the room. You turned around and took small steps, your shoulders curling inward and your head bowed in submission. Every inch of your skin burned with the strength of his gaze.

“Kneel.”

You placed your knee on his bed, ready to climb up.

“On the floor.”

One knee still on his white sheets, you turned around to look at him. He was so large. Imposing. The kind of figure you would follow without question. So, you did.

“You look pretty on your knees.”

He took a few steps towards you, stopping when the distance had your neck straightening to look up at him. Large, powerful, imposing. Another step and you were face-to-face with his crotch. His bulge was right there.

“Go on, take it out. Since you wanted it so bad.”

Joel didn’t think you would do it. You looked even smaller kneeling at his feet. Meek little thing. He didn’t at all expect you to taunt him the way you did. Especially after you threatened to tell on him to Maria. He fully expected you to start crying. Guess he really underestimated you. Virgin didn’t necessarily mean innocent.

Yet you folded as soon as he took the reins. He saw the change in you right when he told you to take your clothes off. When your eyes went from determined to defeated. All that spunk evaporated to reveal the little girl underneath. He liked it like that. Made him feel like a real man. Not that there was any scarcity of masculinity in his life of taking out clickers and defending this town. But somethin’ about a beautiful woman accepting his authority did the trick faster than every other display of masculinity.

Your hands fiddled with his belt, trembling as you tried to take it off. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. “Just undo the zip.”

No way he was going to get naked in front of a pretty little twenty something. It wasn’t anything great to look at even before he began a life of violence and traversing the wilderness. Sure he was well built from all the hard physical labor and constant fight for survival. It’d left several unappealing scars on his person. Time had done a number on him too. Especially his pudgy belly. It didn’t help that food flowed free in Jackson, fattening him up a little.

Thankfully, you listened. You looked up, as though you expected him to complete the task for him. He challenged you with a look. Wanna be a big girl so bad, act like one.

You reached inside his pants and took his cock out. Your lips parted and he heard you inhale through your mouth. His cock hung in front of him, hard from your teasing. He had to give it to you, you were daring for a meek little thing. No one in town would believe him if he told them all that you’d done. And he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Not too late to back out, you know?” he said, wrapping his hand around himself. It took everything in him to give you an out. As much as he wanted to grab your face, force your mouth open and make you gag around him, he was man enough to let you know you didn’t have to do anything. Young girl probably bit more than you could swallow. And seeing his cock and your mouth so close by showed that he was definitely nothing you could swallow.

“I’m not backing out.”

“First time seeing one?”

“Of course not. I work at the clinic. You think I haven’t seen a penis?”

“No anatomical terms. I ain’t your patient. Go on, touch my cock.”

You reached up for him, but he stepped back, delighting himself in the disappointment on your face. “Come on, you want a man so bad, work for it.”

You moved to stand up. “Did I say you could stand up?”

“No.”

“Then get back on your fucking knees.”

You dropped to your knees and he groaned in satisfaction. The euphoria of wielding power over someone rushed through his veins. And he wanted more. It was the same sick satisfaction he got when he beat men to death. When he broke bones and dressed animals he hunted in the wild. “Good girl. You’re going to listen to what I say. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fuck! That fucking word again.

“Come on, come get it. Hands and knees. Crawl to me.”

He beckoned you forward with one hand, his other still on his cock. You bent over and god fucking damnit, you were a vision. You were an eager girl and he could see what you could become in the right hands. His hands. The things he could show you… Introduce you to your own body. Bring you pain and pleasure that were indistinguishable.

Your tits hung from your chest, swaying as you crawled towards him. Feverish, bright eyes followed him as he continued to refuse what you wanted. Too fucking late. He warned you. Told you men like him weren’t for pretty little things like you. But you didn��t fucking want to listen. Now you’d have to deal with the consequences. Maybe you’d stay away then.

“Please, Sir,” you whined so prettily he almost gave in.

“What are you begging for?”

“You. Y-your penis.”

“My cock,” he corrected. “Say it.”

“Your cock, Sir.”

“Good girl. C’mere,” he said, giving you a nod to come closer. You crawled to him and when he didn’t back away, sat up on your knees. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and gripped your hair, making you hiss. Holding you in place, he brought his cock to your face. You looked up at it, your eyes widening and your mouth slackening. You brought your hand up and touched his tip with just your thumb. The rest of your hand followed, wrapping around him. He gasped silently as you stroked his slit with your thumb, making him leak precum on you.

“Did…? Did you?”

“No. Gotta do more ‘n that to make me come. That’s precum.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t think you knew what precum was. Probably not the focus of your education here. Not the most important thing when townsfolk came in injured after patrols or suffering from a fever that was life threatening without the medicines of the past.

He pressed his cock against your cheek. The sight presented a visual of how you’d struggle if you took him in your mouth. He’d have you choking on him before you even took half. He twitched against your face at the mere thought. You were the picture of innocence, even with his cock on your face. Even with the stunt you pulled before he put you back in your place.

“Think I’ll just do this. Fuck your pretty face.”

You whimpered, spurring him on. He wanted to force himself inside you, punish your mouth for having the gall to speak to him the way you did. Make you cry from how full of him you were. Give you a sore throat so when you spoke to him again, you’d remember to speak with respect. But you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he’d settle for defiling your sweet features, hold his cock against your cheek and rut like the animal he was.

“I ain’t gonna lay you out on my bed and take you nice and slow. I’m just gonna use you. ‘s what men like me do.”

He pulled away, giving you another opportunity to rethink this. “You can put your fucking clothes on and leave if you don’t like it.”

To his surprise, you stayed put on your knees. You shook your head before reaching up and rubbing your cheek against his cock. You let out a soft moan, eyes closed and your thighs pressed together tight. “No, no. I like it.”

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, his hand back in your hair. He tugged at it and took his cock in his other hand. He tapped your lips with his tip, smearing the precum that leaked out of him. “You like an older man using your face like it’s a pussy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He snorted, amused. “Never met a virgin slut before. Getting your face fucked before your pussy. Bet you’re wet from this.”

There was the sweet little whimper from you again. He wanted to hear more of it. Trap you underneath him and make you weep and cry and whimper as he split you in half.

“Let me see. Touch your pussy, show me your slick.”

You obeyed, spread your knees and touched yourself. Your hand glistened under the light of his bedroom, your wetness stretching between your fingers in strings. “Goddamn, would you look at that…” he said in a low rumble. “Rub it on my cock.”

Your hand trembled slightly and you stared at him with a blank look in your eyes. He guided your hand to his cock, withdrawing his hand when he’d brought you close enough so you could decide whether you wanted to follow his command. You touched your slickened hand to his cock, covering him in the evidence that you wanted this. Wanted him. You reached between your legs and brought more of yourself, eyes soft yet glazed with lust as you smeared yourself all over his length.

“Ask me for it.”

“Please,” you whined.

“Please, what?”

“P-please fuck my face. Sir.”

He returned his cock to your cheek, your wetness lubricating your face. Hand cradling his cock, he began to thrust. It wasnt much different from fucking his own fist. It was just skin. Not the tight velvety wetness of a pussy or a throat that would gag with his thickness. But your face was softer than his gun callused hands. Even better was your pretty face, looking up at him so adoringly… So full of desire.

He didn’t have to let his imagination do the trick now. Not when you were right in front of him, lending yourself for his use. And no imagination, no memory did justice to you. Your body. Scarred, but beautiful. Tits that filled his large hands, clean and styled hair, a belly that showed you were well fed. He wanted to lay you out on his bed and consume you. Take your tits in his mouth, grab handfuls of your ass, spread your cunt lips and lodge himself inside you. Give it to you hard so your thigh jiggled and you felt them ache as they rubbed against each other when you walked around in your pretty little dresses.

But as depraved as he was, he knew he shouldn’t be the first to take you. He’d have you just this once. Store your image in his head to get off with for as long as his dick worked. You acted all brave, but he couldn’t shake off that you were still inexperienced. The first time was meant to be good. The world was no longer normal, but you could have normality within the insular walls of Jackson.

Even this was wrong. Using you like this instead of making sweet love to you. But he hadn’t been that man in a long time. He was selfish and cruel. If there was no town, no community where everyone knew everyone and you still threw yourself at him, he would’ve taken you in all your holes with no hesitation. Ruined you, kept you until your body wasn’t of use and tossed you aside. But being in this semi-normal place had gotten its claws into him. Softened him up.

He grew closer to the edge embarrassingly quickly, the haze of carnal pleasure beginning to muffle the voices screaming in his head to let you go. He only barely noticed that you were touching yourself. Enjoying this treatment of you. That spurred him on. There was no stopping now.

You let out soft moans, your eyes never once leaving him. He struggled to get himself to focus. To check for any signs you didn’t want this. But all he saw was you on the precipice of pleasure. The world disappeared. His house, Jackson, the darkness that lay beyond. It was all him now. He felt lighter, like he would float out through the window and everything he’d ever been through would disappear. Every ounce of goodness quietened down, the last shreds of his morality discarded with your dress. He grunted and moaned your name as he kept fucking you. Your features morphed into nothingness. No longer a face, no longer a human woman. All he knew was the ache in his body, the tightness that begged to be released.

He slapped a hand against the wall as his thighs stiffened and every muscle in the vicinity of his cock tightened. He took himself back in his hand and stroked himself over your face. Once, twice, and thr– mid stroke, he growled and spilled on your face, coating your innocent features in sticky white cum. You flinched as the first stream hit, screwing your eyes shut. He wanted to make you look, see how he could defile you, show you that he wasn’t for you. Force you to confront what you’d allowed into your life so you’d run and never look back.

But all he could do was keep stroking as he came down from his high. It was unlike anything he’d had in the recent past. Not his imagination, not just his hand. A real human woman who wasn’t just a convenience. One who sought him out, stripped for him, and let him use her face like a toy.

He took a minute to collect his breath and let his senses return to him. His cock hung semi-hard outta his jeans, like it could go again if he willed it. Like it wasn’t almost six decades old. But he wasn’t too surprised. He could go again for the utterly debauched girl in front of him. Innocence eclipsed by milky white ropes of his cum. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hair and pulled at it. You yelped, but let him pull you up from the ground and drag you to the other side of the room.

He stopped you in front of his mirror, and slapped your hand off your pussy before replacing it with his. “Look at yourself. I fucking told you,” he said, forcing two thick fingers inside your cunt. You sucked him in with little resistance, your cunt leaking enough for him to force a third finger inside you. You gasped and tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having it. He was a fucking monster, but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially a young thing who’d never had anyone else before.

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, his half hard cock begging him to go again when he felt the vibrations of your moans. “I warned you,” he whispered into your ear. “Fuckin’ warned you. Told you how starved I was. And you still taunted me. Look at you now!”

“Please… Please, Joel! Sir, please…”

“Fuckin’ slut. Maybe you ain’t really a virgin.”

“I am, I am, I promise. I wa–” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he pressed his thumb on your clit.

“What was that?”

You made some incoherent noises, too far gone to form words. Yet you managed to thrust onto his fingers and roll your hips like a real natural.

“Joel…”

“I know, pretty girl… I know,” he cooed, the softness in his voice contradicting how he’d used you just minutes prior. Contradicting the cum on your pretty little face.

“You gonna come for me? Give me another one after you came so sweetly on my fingers that day?”

There were no answers from you. Not even an acknowledgement that you heard him. Just whines and moans as you let him support your entire weight. Your head lolled back on his shoulder and your eyes rolled back into your skull as he fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Oh the things he could do with his cock… Reach deeper, take the virginity you’d held on to for so long. If he ever had you, he would never let go. He was too selfish a man to willingly lose a girl so precious after taking her cunt.

You gripped him like a vice, so tight he couldn't pry his fingers out. Something that vaguely sounded like his name spilled from your lips as you crumpled in his arms. Your pussy pulsated around you as he held you against him, unwilling to remove himself from you so quickly.

He withdrew your panties from his pocket– the fresh pair you took off in his fucking hallways like it was no big deal. He wiped your face with it the same way he cleaned up your cunt that day. Instead of tucking it in his pocket, he forced it into your hand.

“Put it on. Your fucking dress, too. Hope you learned you fucking lesson.”

As you put it on and scampered away naked into his hallways, he hoped it would be enough to scare you away. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he would always crave you like an addict craving a drink.

⌘

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olivianyx · 4 months

Text

OMGG I JUST GOT RESULTS WITHOUT BEATING MYSELF UP WITH ROUTINES 😭 + RANT ✨

HEYY LUVS! I JUST WANNA SHARE MY RESULTS I MANIFESTED WITHIN 2-3 DAYS! THIS YEAR'S GONNA BE MY BEST YEAR Y'ALL ✋AND GUESS WHAT I DID? NOTHING. LITERALLY NOTHING. NUH-UH. PERIODT.

⚠ LONG POST AHEAD, SWEARING ⚠

WHAT I MANIFESTED:

🪄 PASSING MY FRESHMAN YEAR WITH HIGH SCORES

🪄 MY FAMILY BOUGHT A NEW APARTMENT WHICH WERE PREPARING TO MOVE IN 3 WEEKS

🪄 ME GETTING INTO THE VOID STATE 😭 AND MANIFESTED CLEAR SKIN! (DAYUM GETTING INTO THE VOID IS DEFO VERY EASY OMGG)

🪄 GETTING LESS ANXIOUS LATELY!

🪄 MY GASTRITIS AND ULCERITIS GETTING CURED

🪄 GETTING MORE COMPLIMENTS IN MY UNI!

🪄 GETTING TALLER! I WENT FROM 5'3" TO 5'7" IN 2 DAYS 😭😭

🪄 GETTING DREAMS OF ME SHIFTING TO MY WR 🥺 (ACTUALLY RESPAWNING LOL, AS THIS THING IS REALLY CONTROVERSIAL IN HERE, PLEASE DON'T GET ME CANCELLED- I'M DOING DEATHLESS RESPAWNING ✋)

🪄 MY MIND IS SURPRISINGLY CALM 😌 THERE'S STILL INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS THO (THOSE ARE ANNOYING ASS BITCHES) BUT I JUST IGNORE EM LIKE I IGNORE PEOPLE AT SCHOOL 🗿

🪄 GOT MANY CONFESSIONS TOO 😭 AND I REJECTED EM ALL, CUS I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE ✋🗿 JK

🪄 GETTING COOL CLOTHES THAT MY MOM DENIED A LOTTA TIMES! (ACTUALLY I'VE ORDERED EM BUT STILL HAVEN'T SHIPPED TO MY ADDRESS YET LOL)

🪄 MY CRUSH BECOMING CLOSE TO ME HEHE 🤭 LIKE SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT ME MUCH, BUT LATELY SHE'S BEEN TOO CLOSE TO ME AND ALWAYS WANNA BE WITH ME LOL, 3 DAYS BACK SHE AND I WALKED HOME TOGETHER, WHILE WE GRABBED SOME SNACKS, SPOKE ABT EACH OTHER AND ALL (I FELT LIKE BEING IN A SHOUJO MANGA 😩)

🪄 A NEW PHONE! THAT SAMSUNG GALAXY S22 😩

I MANIFESTED EVERYTHING WITHIN 3 DAYS 😭 I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE MY EYES, JUST. 3. FUCKING. DAYS. GODDAMMIT.

HOW I DID IT:

JUST FULFILLED IT IN MY IMAGINATION

YEP, YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT. I LIVED IN THE 4D REALITY, I NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT THE 3D AT ALL. OK LEMME BREAK IT DOWN FOR Y'ALL SO JUST PAY ATTENTION FROM HERE ONWARDS.

🪄 SUPPOSE SOMETHING UNDESIRABLE OR UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE HAPPENING IN YOUR 3D. WHO'S THE CAUSE FOR THAT? YOU. 'BUT I DIDN'T IMAGINE OR THINK OF THESE 😭' BABY, YOU'RE THE SOLE CAUSE, EFFECT, AND THE SOLUTION. THERE'S NO OTHER EXPLANATION TO THIS.

🪄 AS WE ALL KNOW, 3D IS A MIRROR. RIGHT? WHATEVER YOU THINK ABOUT, YOUR ASSUMPTIONS, YOUR THOUGHTS, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR PERSPECTIVE EVERYTHING WILL BE REFLECTED. SO WHY NOT THINK THE WAY YOU WANT SO YOU CAN EXPERIENCE THE SAME? GET IT.

🪄 IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE 3D, CHANGE YOUR 4D FIRST. CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE TO HOW YOUR DESIRED SELF WOULD SEE THE WORLD. KEEP DWELLING IN IT. IF THE 3D SHOWS UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES, DON'T FUCKING GET TRIGGERED. GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION AND DENY YOUR SENSES.

🪄 EVERYTIME YOU SEE SOMETHING ELSE IN THE 3D, GO 'BRUHH THIS IS MY OLD STORY, I ALREADY HAVE WHAT I WANT, THIS IS JUST FAKE' AND MOVE ON. DISTRACT YOURSELF. CUS THE 3D WORLD WHICH YOU SEE IS AN ILLUSION, IT'S NOT REAL. IT'S YOUR CREATION, WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO CONTROL WHAT YOU CREATED? IT'S ALREADY IN CONTROL. YOU ONLY GOTTA REALISE YOUR GODSELF. YOU ARE THE CREATOR, NOT THE CREATION. STOP FUCKING VICTIMIZING YOURSELF.

🪄 I GET IT THAT MOST OF THE PEOPLE ARE CONFUSED BETWEEN LAW OF ASSUMPTION AND NON DUALISM. EVEN I WAS, BUT SLOWLY I REALISED THAT WE'RE ALL NOTHING. WE'RE JUST LIVING IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. VICTIMIZING OURSELVES IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. IRONIC RIGHT?

🪄 THOSE THOUGHTS, ANXIETY, FEELINGS, EMOTIONS ARE ALL IN YOUR PHYSICAL REALM. YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, YOUR EGO EVERYTHING IS NO REAL, WE ASSUME IT TO BE. WE'RE ARE SHAPELESS, FORMLESS, WE'RE NOTHING! AND EVERYTHING AT THE SAME TIME. CUS EVERYTHING COMES DOWN TO ONE THING, I AM.

🪄 K Y'ALL MIGHT BE SUPER CONFUSED, WHAT I'M TRYNA INFUSE IN YOUR BRAINS. SO WHAT YOU DO IS, LIVE IN YOUR 4D.HOW? IMAGINATION. NO MATTER WHAT YOU SEE IN YOUR 3D, GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION, AFFIRM OR VISUALISE. ANYTHING IS FINE BTW. JUST STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED.

🪄 STOP RELYING ON METHODS, FUCK THEM. JUST BE. DON'T TRY TO CHANGE SOMETHING WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM. JUST STOP, SURRENDER, STOP FIGHTING, STOP TRYING SO HARD WHEN YOUR ALREADY IT. SO GO LIVE IN YOUR IMAGINATION, FULLY SURRENDER. DO THINGS WHICH YOU LIKE. GO LIVE YOUR LIFE. TAKE YOUR POWER BACK.

LIKE AREN'T YOU TIRED? TRAPPED IN YOUR OWN CREATIONS? YOU CREATED THEM, YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE WHATEVER. TELL ME HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA LIVE THIS BULLSHIT LIFE? YOU'RE REALLY GETTING COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE. SO LISTEN UP, DO WHAT YOU LOVE, AFFIRM, VISUALISE, OR DAYDREAM, ZONE OUT, WHATEVER. ALL I DID WAS DO THIS MEDITATION IN THE MORNING, WENT ABOUT MY DAY WATCHING JUJUTSU KAISEN LMAO. THEN RANDOMLY AFFIRM, LIVED IN MY 4D, NEVER PAYED ANY FUCKING ATTENTION TO MY 3D, CUS I'M GOD. I REALLY LOVE VISUALISING, SO I PUT ON A SONG AND START DAYDREAMING IN MY ROOM SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT. ALSO, I DID SATS BEFORE GOING TO BED. THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL I DID FOR 3 FUCKING DAYS, AND GOT WHAT EVER I WANT. ALSO I MADE A CUSTOM TAPE TOO (IT'S A GENERAL SELF CONCEPT ONE) I LISTENED TO IT FOR 30 MINS AND JUST WENT ABOUT MY DAY THINKING I HAD WHATEVER I FUCKING DESIRE, CUS IT'S ALL MY CREATIONS AND I HAVE IT ALREADY. THERE'S NOTHING TO GET, IT'S ALREADY IN ME.

LUV YOU, BYE 💋

#non dualism #law of assumption #neville goddard #reality shifting #affirmdaily #dream life #frequency #loa success #manifestations #manifestyourreality #scripting #3roe #self concept #higher self #consciousness #Spotify

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nanaslutt · 6 months

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Hi ur work is fucking amazing I love u imagine gojo having to pull away readers head bc he doesn’t want to cum too fast :p

OH MY GOD????? nonnie this made me light headed ur brain is braining

i love YOU tysm for this<3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: fem reader, use of ‘baby’ and ‘princess’, size kink i couldn’t help myself, dirty talk as always, satoru is absolutely whipped, sweet!gojo, throat fucking, hair pulling, mentions of face sitting at the end :p

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“you sure u wanna suck it pretty? i’m kinda big.” gojo caresses your the side of your face with a large palm, using his other to give himself slow strokes

you nuzzle your cheek into his palm, looking up at him through your lashes from your place on the floor

“yeah, wanna make you feel good toru, i can take it, promise” you pout up at him, reaching both of your hands up to replace his in stroking his cock

he twitches when you make contact with his flushed dick, your hands barely wrapping all the way around him, “don’t gotta tell me princess, i know you can take it.” he sits on the edge of the bed, one hand on your scalp, the other behind him stabilizing himself, “always take me in ur pretty pussy so well.” he pets your hair softly

you cant lie that looking at him up close like this, seeing the sheer size of his cock compared to your hands is a little intimidating, but you’re nothing if not determined

you lean forward, making eye contact with him now as you stick out your tongue and kitten lick the pre from his tip

he inhaled sharply, hissing on the exhale as you take his tip into your mouth and draw circles on it with your tongue

“mouth ‘s so fucking warm, godd,” he bites his lip, keeping eye contact with you as his grip on your hair tightens

pulling back from his tip you let a glob of spit on him, lubricating the rest of his cock with it while you go back to sucking on his tip,

“you wanna try taking it a little deeper? hmm?how’s that sound princess?” he asks you, feeling good with your current technique but growing a little antsy to feel how your throat constricts his cock

you pull back and nod, still stroking his dick “uh huh, want it” you answer

taking a few deep breaths to ease your nerves before taking him back into your mouth

squeezing your thighs together and letting out little moans around him as you struggle to fit his thick cock inside your mouth,

“yeaahhh, doin so fucking good, keep goin” he encourages you, his thighs twitching every time your moans send vibrations around him

your mouth hurts from the size of him but his reactions are keeping you going strong, bobbing your head back and forth going deeper and deeper every time,

gagging around him when he goes a little bit too deep, “‘s it ok if i help you princess? makin me feel so good but i wanna go a little deeper, that ok?”

“mmhmm,” you nod on his dick making his abs clench at the intense vibration, “you spoil me baby,” he smiles before standing up and taking gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail,

“tap my thigh if you can’t take it,” you barely have time to register his words before he thrusts his hips to the hilt, balls pressed against your chin and he hold you there for a couple beats,

“yeaaahhh this is what i wanted, god stop squeezin ur throat baby,” he laughs before using the strong hold he has to bob you back and forth, “gonna make me cum too soon”

you squeeze your thighs together, his rough treatment on your throat making you feel a lot better than you imagined

continuing to fuck your face, jaw dropping as he lets out profanities, “good- fucking- girl- yesyesyes- take it, fuck!!” he groans with a smile

staring down at you, spit strings and tears covering your face and he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen, having to close his eyes because your pretty messy face combined with how good your sucking his cock is just too much for him to handle

gaining a little brainpower back you hum around him, simultaneously rotating your tongue in circles around his cock to the best of your ability, it might’ve worked a little too well as he abruptly yanked your head back, holding you back from him while he quicky grabs the base of his dick with his free hand and squeezes 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝

his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as his breath stutters, short moans leaving him as he tries to concentrate on not embarrassing himself and cumming all over your face so soon

you look up at him after your small coughing fit, slightly confused why he pulled you away so harshly, worried you might’ve hurt him

“fffuuuck” he laughs as his eyes roll back into place from the back of his head and he smiles down at you, “holy fuck baby,” he takes a deep breath before easing his grip on his cock,

“where’d you learn how to suck dick this good huh? almost made me embarrass myself,” he lets you wrap your hands around his cock again, keeping his hold on your hair still, more just guiding you now, “felt that good?” you ask, leaving kisses on his pelvis while you stroked him

“so good baby, make me feel like a virgin.” you giggle, “but i want you to cum for me toru, that’s why i’m doin this,” you move from leaving kisses on his pelvis to kissing his the underside of his cock, all the way to his angry tip

“yeah? wanna give it another go then? already got me this close just by kissin it.” he bites his lip while giving you his signature cocky smirk

you don’t respond, opting to just take him into your mouth, using your hands and mouth together to bring him as much pleasure as possible

moaning around him, drawing circles on his tip, rotating and stroking your hands in time with your bobbing head, he repeatedly bites his lip and jerks forward,

“here is comes princess, you ready? gonna take it all in ur throat for me?” gunna swallow it all, right?” he’s babbling, his grip returning on your hair, wishing he would’ve sat back down as his thighs burn trying to keep himself upright

hips starting to meet your head halfway and you’re moaning, trying to talk around his cock wanting to tell him you’re gonna take it all, how you want him to fill you up, mark your throat as his and the coil snaps

hes hunching over you, gasps and whimpers of your name and little “baby, baby, oh my god”s falling from his lips as he fills your mouth with his cum

swallowing it all as quick as it comes and rubbing your thighs together hearing him sound so vulnerable

when he finally comes down from his high he’s panting so hard, he groans as he pulls his cock back, dripping with your spit and his thick cum away from your warm mouth, “you swallow it all baby?” and you stick out your tongue with a cute little “ahhhh” sound, smiling as you do so

“you’re too good to me princess, love you so much, did such a good job,” he’s caressing your face, spilling out praises, “now cmere n clean me up so i can have you ride my face n feel you squirt all over me.”

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qtkoshi · 11 months

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Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears.

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ?????

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ )

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobart brown x reader #hobie۫ ִ✮#this was so cute hehe #thank you anon #!!!!!

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tarjapearce · 1 month

Text

Chapter 7: Silent Violence is Humbled

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Tension, Angst, emotional discomfort, fluff and comfort towards the end, Strained friendships, verbal abuse, character introspection, character study, anger, hurt, family dynamics.

Summary: Karma keeps it's siege, and a new milestone hits the mark.

A/N: So. sorry for the delay, had to make some reports for my internship (I'm almost done and out with it 🥹 yay.)

Leaving the hospital wasn't precisely good. A new debt was added to your already trembling credit and to top it off, you were left with meds, a scheduled appointment with a therapist and a plethora of vitamins and supplements.

Of course you had reported everything but the gruesome details to your immediate boss. Not that she didn't sound convinced, rather shocked you were in the hospital.

You only could hope complications wouldn't be a regular guest in your life and bank account.

"I can hear you thinking from here. You ok?" MJ mumbled as she stirred a couple of eggs into the pan. You stared into the endless and spiralling void. Picking at the hospital's pale blue plastic band around your wrist.

You had spaced out as soon as you got home, the remnants of the perilous encounter with Miguel somehow still remained etched to your skin and mind. Unable to let go completely.

"I think I'll start looking for a better paying job somewhere else."

MJ watched you for a second, "You'll quit Alchemax?"

With a groan, you slouched on the dining table, placing a hand ontop of your head

"I'd love to, but I can't yet. Not until I have something certain anyways. Gotta suck it up for a bit more."

"I'll help you look up on other companies, who knows maybe we find a better thing for you. I don't feel comfortable with you being there with that crazy asshole working in there too. Do you want extra bacon?"

"Pretty please. Thank you, MJ. And yeah, if you're not a scientist in Alchemax, you're basically another exploited worker."

"Stop thanking me. You're my best friend. And I'll help, let me ask Peter if he knows about something somewhere."

She served the breakfast and placed the plate before you. Mayday announced her awakening with a mumble, her tiny hands rubbed her eyes to then look around sleepily, until her blue eyes met MJ.

You couldn't help but stare at the motherly displaying ritual.

Mayday's eyes lit up, shining brighter as MJ approached with a genuine smile that only matched her daughter's.

Your best friend enveloped her little girl in her arms, showering her in affection, earning her a couple of lovely squeals.

"Rested well, sweetheart?"

"Ma ma"

Those syllables alone made your heart leap as a myriad of emotions flooded your brain. The concept you had of it wasn't nothing alike what you were witnessing. There wasn't unnecessary yelling, cussing or physical abuse. All the opposite. A little rush of envy coursed through, but it faded quickly as it came.

It was odd, really. To behold such intimate moment of bonding between the both. It came so natural, full of love and everything you, sometimes at your age still were getting acquainted with. Patience, understanding and caring.

Mayday rested her head on MJ's shoulder and stared at you. Like seizing you for the first time ever, paying attention to your very moves, curious, scrutinizing your soul with her lovely and innocent eyes, leaving no room for disingenuous acts.

You gulped

"Hello" You waved coyly and your heart trembled with something unknown as she giggled your way, approving of your presence. She knew no evil nor judgement. Mayday didn't judge you. Just like her mother. She was pure joy.

"When's the shrink's appointment?"

MJ's voice snapped you out of your mutinied thoughts.

"Uh in a month or two." You mumbled while digging in your breakfast. It tasted like utter love and heaven after having nothing in your stomach for more than a day, and your stomach tolerated it well.

"Are you nervous?" MJ fed Mayday with the bottle, your mind subconsciously took notes of the way she held, fed and talked to her.

"Very. Not a fan of spilling my issues to strangers, even if it's their job."

"I know it might be difficult for you, considering the shitty attention you had before with them. But if the doctor says so, you must do it."

"I know." Your lips sighed, heavy with resignation to then purse into a tiny smile, " I just wanna move on, you know?"

"You will, I know so. You're strong, sweetie. Now eat up and drink your vitamins."

You chuckled, feeling her maternal instinct through the table.

"I think I'm already gaining weight."

MJ chortled as she wiped Mayday's cheek and lips, to then kiss the tip of her nose.

"Wait until you get your feet swollen, the hormone changes. Acne on your back, and the need to jump on-"

"Ok! ok, got it." Your cheeks flushed as the redhead just laughed now at your embarrassment.

"It won't be easy, but you'll get used to some stuff. You'll see."

-----

If there was something that Peter wouldn't openly admit, was the fact he disliked Miguel's sense of disposition of his time.

Sometimes his friend's hubristic demands had him juggling between his own time and his family.

Peter hated when Miguel simply let him know he was on his way. He didn't care if he was busy or was about to be, but also meant one thing. Stress was eating Miguel alive and he, as his best friend, was the only he could rely onto to take away such heavy burden.

With a sigh, Peter prepared mentally for the night. Specially to give his ever patient wife an explanation of a sudden visit. As if the universe made sure MJ and Miguel to never properly meet beyond pleasantries. If they had seen and meet eachother a couple of times was too many.

MJ was either out because of work, leaving him and Mayday alone, or the days and hours Miguel visited were when MJ was already asleep or too busy to sit and socialise with her husband's friends.

Peter has known Miguel for a couple of years by now, and still things didn't change.

He put a couple of beers to cool, then stirred the pasta. Miguel wasn't a picky eater, yet it made Peter stress over the food choice. But MJ wanted pasta and he was none to ignore his wife's whims over his friend's.

How long has it been since he saw Miguel? Months? Half a year? He didn't remember, but hoped that he wouldn't stay too long. Work had chewed, ate and spat him on the floor way too many times to count today.

His shoulders slumped, defeated before hia daughter's sweetness when Mayday gave him a toothy grin, he returned the smile, although tiredly.

"Let's get you some dinner."

He held his daughter in one arm, as he served a bit of noodles in her favorite spider-ham bowl and somw juice in her sippy cup. Peter put her in her chair and placed the food before her just in time as the doorbell rang.

"It's not that I don't like him, you know? I'm just tired today." Peter mumbled to himself and Mayday as he scratched his stubble and walked over the door.

May could only look at him, curious, bur the bright colors of her cup demanded her attention. To his little surprise, the man in question was there, scrolling through his phone in the meantime. Dressed in a casual button shirt, dark jeans and dress shoes, holding a small bag of sweets as a gift.

"Could you please start letting me know when you're coming over from now on? It's not that hard."

Peter's frustration wafted through his words as Miguel chuckled and followed him, the smell of cologne tickled the host's nose, almost a bit too pungent.

"Had to. Needed a distraction. Here"

He handed the paper bag to him, full of artisanal mexican sweets. At least this time, Miguel was thoughtful enough to bring something he knew Peter liked.

But it also meant one thing. A long night ahead.

With a sigh and defeated shoulders, Peter went to the kitchen, rummaging through the simple glassware to fetch a couple of glasses.

"I have... soda, apple juice, can't give you the beer until Mayday's asleep."

Miguel just quirked a brow and went for water. It was kinda bothersome for him how something so trivial as drinking a beer was a forbidden thing among parents whenever their children were around.

Overprotection and alienation from such things would only make them curious if anything. At least that's how it worked for Miguel. Still, it was Peter's home, and he had to play by the unspoken parenting rules his friend followed to a T.

How inconvenient

Miguel's eyes wandered through the table to land on Mayday. As a happy kid she was, the sauce was smeared all over her cheeks and chin, even her hands and forearms. Some noodles hung on her chin.

Even though his logical side appealed towards a scientific fact about babies discovering everything through their hands and mouth, the sole idea of having to deal with it on a daily basis and probably at every hour the kid would be awake and eating, made his eyes to tear away from the child and sigh, relieved he didn't have to cope with that sort of problem.

He had done his part, and against all logic, you had decided to keep the baby.

Pendeja. (Dumbass)

He huffed, annoyed to none but himself.

What would you do? It wasn't his problem anymore. He had more important things to think about than you and your stupid choices. His jaw clenched.

" You're gonna scare Mayday if you keep glaring like that."

Peter spoke as he cleaned up his daughter after feeding her with some bits of sausages. Miguel sighed as his arms untangled from his chest. A habit he subconsciously adopted as he was way too deep in negative thoughts. He gave his body some slack. He had came here in order to relax amd distract himself.

"Wanna tell me what happened or you wanna wait by having some pasta?"

In fact, now that Miguel was here he could take a good look at the scene before him. Peter had changed so much to the point of transforming himself into a completely different persona.

There was no more staying up past one am, lost in beers and talking about whatever thing alcohol made him spill out of his mouth. Reluctantly, good days. And now Peter was serving him some overcooked pasta that somehow tasted good. Even for him.

Hypocrite.

His mind reprimanded himself. He had wanted kids once but now seeing how it changed and rewired the brain chemistry and your fiasco, the thought of them had been shoved to the very back of his priorities. He had a career and money to make, not play house amd happy family with a stranger.

As much as Peter was his only true friend, he didn't want to look awful and perpetually tired because of a kid, like him.

With a sigh he dug on the food while staring at the both. The tangy smell of the sauce induced the little hunger he ate the pasta. A couple of minutes later passed when the key's tinkering echoed from the main door, revealing none other than MJ balancing a couple of paper bags in hands.

Miguel watched as Peter immediately rushed to her side and helped her out, while welcoming her with a kiss.

"Smells good!" MJ chirped and made her way towards the kitchen, Mayday's eyes lit up as soon as she saw her mama. A bubbly squeal received her when MJ ruffled her fiery curls and took her in her arms, rattling Miguel's ears.

"Hello there, precious" MJ kissed her cheek but then focused her gaze on Miguel. He tensed briefly to then give a polite smile.

"Hey."

MJ nodded and gave her respective hello back. Peter came into the dinning table with an awkward smile. He didn't need to explain the presence of his friend to his wife, as she quickly picked up the cue to get Mayday to sleep.

For some reason, the energy in the room was suffocating. As if Miguel was the black hole sucking the life and energy out of everything even without intending. Yet, Peter tried to shoo the negative aura that lurked around ominously by unpacking the groceries as he talked to MJ

"How was your day?"

"Good, a bit tiresome. But definitely better now than I'm home."

"Want extra cheese in your pasta? Oh! Miguel got us some candies."

MJ smiled politely at him, "Thanks for that. I loved the eh... Maz-uhpan?"

"Mazapán." he corrected gently.

"That thing. Peter, dear can you get the tub ready for May?"

It was Peter's cue to meet her in private.

"Excuse me." She took Mayday and Peter followed, leaving Miguel alone for a moment. Giving him a break from unwanted displays of family dynamics.

Once in the bathroom and away from prying eyes and ears, MJ cleared her throat

"Before you get angry, I didn't know he was coming until fourty five minutes ago."

MJ quirked a brow knowingly and huffed.

"I know. Still, the least he could do is to let us know he's coming over, Pete."

Peter nodded while rubbing his face, tiredly.

"I'm sorry, ok? Will make him go away soon. He's not having a good time right now."

MJ rolled her eyes while Peter added some soap to the water.

"Yeah, he only comes for a visit whenever he needs something out of you."

"MJ" Peter grunted the silent plea. 'Not now.'

She chuckled and kissed his cheek, "You know it's true. But, if it works for you, then ok. Just don't stay up past one. You snore too loud whenever you get little sleep."

"Relax, he probably just want to ramble, take a beer and leave."

"Alright, alright. He could tone his perfume a bit though. I can smell him from here. Go have fun."

-----

The beers clinked in the table, their taste numbed briefly Miguel's throat and tongue. It burned good as the sour liquid rolled down his esophagus, while Peter rambled on about the many pictures he showed him of Mayday.

Not that he didn't appreciate Peter's attempt to make him forget whatever problems were pestering his mind. But if honest, he grew tired after the sixth photo.

"You should have another."

That made Peter shut up and he chuckled.

"No no. With her is enough."

"You sound regretful."

Miguel mumbled as he finished his beer, Peter shook his head vehemently.

"At all. I know I look like shit, Mig. Still, would do it all over again. Like, look at this!" Peter got the screen close to his bored face with another picture and Miguel pushed it away softly.

"Yeah, she's a pretty girl. Got it."

"You don't get it. Once a kid shows up, everything changes."

You've got no idea...

His mind replied, as his body tensed once more.

"Have you talked about this with Dana?"

The name only made the urge to down the other beer in a go, but his mind almost slapped some sense into him and reminded him this wasn't his home.

MJ's steps alerted both men briefly as she came for her extra bowl of soggy pasta and wash Mayday's bottles.

"We broke up." He stated simply with a disdainful shrug

"What the fuck?

MJ turned to Peter, a brow quirked at his choice of words but focused again on the bottle.

"Miguel, you texted me, saying you were looking for wedding venues with Dana. And now you're single again?"

MJ's breath hitched.

Dana

Oh God

Dana D'Angelo.

Miguel's fiance. And the one that slapped you.

MJ had been so busy with work and her motherly duties that totally forgot about her husband's companion.

Miguel.

The man that only relied on her husband's company whenever life was too much for him. An acquaintance that she had only seen a couple of times and shared the same roof as her, although briefly in the few times Peter invited him over.

And also, the man that had gotten you pregnant, and had sent you to the hospital in a fit of rage. The very man that was causing you so much pain, had taken a place on her table, with her family and now was talking comfortably with her husband about his failed love, thanks to none other but himself.

Her heart wrenched and beat so fast in between powerful contractions that it made her breath shaky.

A monster was in her home. A terrible man had waltzed into her safe space and was tainting with his rottenness everything he touched, with his pungent and hubristic smell. His cologne and attitude only made her stomach churn.

"It didn't work out."

She turned to see him, unbelieving in her green eyes. So well behaved, ever polite and not an ounce of guiltiness in his judging stare. Entitled even, as if the world owed him just cause he existed. MJ understood now why it was so easy for you to fall into his trap, but the anger that clawed at her brain was greater than anything she had experienced before.

How dared he come into her home and play the victim when he had forsaken you and his child? How dared he disrupt the natural balance in her house with his mere presence?

"She was getting too annoying for me, anyways. Always behaving crazy." Miguel gestured with a terse movement of his hand before slicking his dark brown strands back.

Oh, how dared he. Those last words made her patience thread to stretch impossibly thin, that it broke.

"Well of course she'll act crazy! You fucking cheated on her!." MJ's hands balled tight at her sides, and glared daggers at Miguel.

Both men snapped to look in her way.

Miguel's eyes widened and Peter blinked almost stupidly at his wife and then at his friend that seemed like a deer caught in the headlights. Few little things in life managed to surprise Miguel, and MJ exposing his dirtiest secret to the only person he trusted outside Dana so carelessly and abruptly, had definitely caught him off guard.

"W-What?"

"He cheated on Dana, Peter."

Miguel swallowed thickly, a shaky breath turned into a steady one, anger coursing through his veins, his mahogany eyes narrowed.

Not them too...

He rubbed his face and hair again, trying to remain composed. If Dana had came for him and gave him no truce, MJ went straight to the jugular. Remorselessly for the kill.

How did she know?

A new wave of fury washed over him at the sudden implication his mind was brewing with, his hand clawed at his bouncing knee.

Did she know you?

What a sick, twisted and small world he lived in. Of course she did. Or else he wouldn't be here, trying to come up with a reply to his shocked friend. But he was cut short from everything, even thinking.

"You don't know shit." Miguel couldn't help but hiss, and his words were enough to throw Peter's patience out the window.

"That's my wife you're talking to, pal." Peter scowled, flabbergasted at Miguel's words as he stood with a warning finger waving at his... friend?, "Tone it the fuck down."

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, Pete!"

Miguel felt ridiculous, not only cause the now constant need of explaining himself, but the absurdity of the situation. He was holding his friend's arm, trying to get Peter to believe him, just like he did with Dana.

But Peter was focused into getting MJ calmed down as she kept cussing his way

"Of course I know, asshole!" She spat, "I know enough of you to say how much of a piece of shit you are!"

That definitely earned her a growl "Whatch your fucking tone"

"Or what?! You'll try and hurt me too like you did with (Name)?! My friend has been suffering nonstop because of your pathetic excuses of being a man!"

If the many years prior to marry MJ taught Peter something, was that if she used foul language meant she was beyond pissed, and rightfully so. She wasn't one for cursing, and things surely would end up terribly wrong.

"You cheated your fiancé, got my best friend pregnant and demanded her to get an abortion-"

"Wait... You... you did what?" Peter's eyes widened and hardened, Miguel was cornered as Peter faced him, still containing his wife.

"No, no. That's bullshit!" Miguel's hand gestured as the other anchored to his hip. His poor attempt of bravery did nothing but set the fire ablaze in its full glory, it all had caught him so off guard he barely could think of comebacks to fend for himself.

"God... You're such a fucking liar!" Peter held MJ back as she seethed, trying to get a hold of Miguel, "I was there at the clinic with her! Cause she tried to correct your fucking mess!"

"I tried to fix-"

"You don't get shit fixed by writing her a fucking check and tell her to get rid of your child! Man the fuck up already! She's so under so much pressure now-"

"Because she's so stupid and chose to fucking keep that thing!" roared Miguel. Tired of being cornered without his usual pretense of control. Shoulders heaving with shaky and wrathful breaths, realizing the mistake he just did.

Peter glowered at him. Not only had he dared to yell at his wife but had been lying to him this whole time. And Mayday was crying. The commotion had been too great that woke her up.

Another pillar in his life was crumbling around, shaking the little constants he still remained with, to their very core.

Peter seized with him a look he had never seen before in his apparently dumb face. Disgust. He was about to protest but Peter's question only brought him to a too bright and unwanted spotlight.

"Is that true?" The tinge in Parker's voice held nothing but utter disbelief, not accusing, but skeptical. As if realizing he was being fooled this whole time as well. Peter slapped Miguel's hands away as he tried to reach for him again.

Shit

His aloof act had spreaded way too fast that didn't give it time to properly root and settle on his inner's circle brains ro control later. Peter growled at the stretching and pregnant silence.

"I'm fucking talking to you." The hard push of his hand made him sway softly, "Is that true!?"

Miguel's eyes widened. Peter's bravado and anger was something he didn't know until now. If honest, Miguel thought of him a complete goof that did everything his wife told him to. A complete mandilón.

If MJ told him to bark, he would and even do a flip while at it. But this man before him was different. Confident, authoritative, honorable, pushing his patience to new limits and oh so disgusted at his actions. A true father and man, unlike him.

A reluctant daddy.

Miguel really had a hard time grasping the magnitude of his doings and how they affected others, cause his remorse was absent. Everything he should be feeling at this collective verbal berating was gone. He was more focused in the defensive than offensive, and he failed.

Upon Miguel's silence, Peter just stared at him and sighed. He wasn't worth it.

"You need to leave, Miguel."

Ash soured the aforementioned throat. A thick lump knotted tightly on Miguel's windpipe.

"What? You're believing every word that comes out of her just like that?"

The question itself was stupid, he knew much so. But Peter didn't budge, in fact, he didn't even look at him as MJ went to fetch her daughter.

"You gotta be kidding me, Parker"

"Am I fucking joking? No. Leave." He shimmied away from Miguel's grasping hands with a disgruntled growl

"Look, I know I fucked up, okay-"

"Damn right you did" Peter pushed him away once more

"Can you listen?! " Tanned fingers sunk on Peter's arms forcefully, preventing him from escaping further, but that only earned him a powerful shove that made him nearly fall. Unlike you, that barely moved him an inch .

"Not this time. I talk and you listen. My home, my rules. Don't like it, get the fuck off." Peter hissed, the day's misfortunes and stress had piled up in his brain and Miguel's actions did nothing but set it all on fire.

"You can't just come into my house unannounced, yell at my wife for calling you out and your bullshit and expect me to remain quiet." His hands moved frantically, "You can't go around acting stupid, being a shitty friend, hurting people and believing the world owes you shit, Miguel!"

Peter turned his back on him, breathing deeply, trying to control the rising anger, finally breaking contact. His shoulders slumped with defeat.

"I knew you were an asshole, but c'mon man... Your own child? Really?" His blue eyes felt like an iceberg caressing upon seizing him a over his shoulder.

"Y dale con la misma pendejada... I did what I thought was right, okay?!" Miguel protested, trying to appeal to that good side that definitely lacked right now.

Peter turned again and stepped in a few strides closer to him, fear lacked in his glare, instead a fiery and scorching fury burned within

"Manning up is the right thing." His calm seething only made Miguel gulp, "Owing your mistakes is the right thing to do!" Peter's voice raised an octave louder

"What kind of fucked up logic is to think you can choose to cheat but choose to not face the consequences?!" Peter jabbed with force his index finger at the treacherous man's chest before him as he hissed every word.

"Funny thing is that you always saw me as a clown. Always bragged on how perfect your life was and thought of me a man child." Each word that came out from Peter was like a stone hitting Miguel,

"And look at you now, acting exactly like that!. How ironic that the roles reversed now." Peter's voice trailed off.

Miguel rolled his eyes so hard it hurted "No me jodas, Parker. Don't fuck with me with your shitty morals You didn't want children either, remember?!."

Disappointment and repugnance plastered all over Peter's face as he shook his head.

"People can do something called change, Miguel. Call me whatever you want, but at least I can say I am a man, cause I owe my mistakes. I don't go around screwing people over and then leave them to fend for themselves."

Peter went to the main door and opened it, with nothing else worthy to spill at Miguel, "Get out."

"You're an hypocrite. When you didn't want kids, everything is alright, but when I do I'm a fucking monster?"

He wasn't welcomed comed anymore. And this only added a couple of more weights in his already heavy bag of burdens, igniting his arrogance even further.

"Are you seriously playing the victim right now?" Peter huffed, "Grow a pair, Miguel. You need them. Get out."

Peter was done, all the energy that had been left was sucked out of him and the stranger before his presence was his biggest leech, he awaited for Miguel to leave, which made the exposed man's chest tighten uncomfortably. The friendship had crumbled. There wasn't anything left for him to salvage anyway.

"Fine." He took his jacket with a forceful grab, "Have it your way then." He spat and left the house with a slam that shook the doorframe.

Your eyes raked over the cream colored walls, as your back nested comfortably against the stretcher. Silence reigned with such deliciousness it soothed your underlying nerves.

A month and a half had gone by ever since yiu had that unwilling visit to the hospital, hitting the sixteen weeks of pregnancy. Your meds worked relatively good, and so did the vitamins to the point of getting a bit more strength and color in you.

But today was different. Everything felt different ever since you woke up. The sheets felt divine, the mattress had the right amount of hardness to help with the lumbar area.

The water in the shower felt heavenly on your skin, it was as if the universe was preparing you for a surprise after so many tough times.

Whatever it had planned, you hoped it was good, or at least, digestible enough to not choke you with it.

The doctor, Mrs. Vincent, typed some information in her computer, then stood to whir the machine alive.

"Lift your shirt up, please." Once you did, she smeared a dollop of blue gel on your naked belly, something you barely had the chance to admire, too busy trying to adapt to the emerging changes in your body.

Some clothes had stopped fitting and if they did, they were a chip too tight. The baby bump wasn't enormous like you had thought, but it wasn't small either, after all, Miguel was a big man. It had enough curvature to make your belly poke out from any clothes you had.

I feel like a walking avocado...

MJ was sitting next to you. Although you felt guilty because of the scene Miguel created at her home, she was more than happy to put him in his place, and so her husband. Peter.

Bless him.

You haven't properly known the man but that action alone of standing up for you against his friend of years, made you a bit hopeful.

You weren't looking for a partner, much less a father to the creature growing within, the least you wanted to do was to complicate yourself even more and add another thing in the already long lists of stress you went by.

But in truth, you wished to be there to see his downfall. Not that you were spiteful, but karma surely was a beautiful thing to watch. And the thought of him being this scared and uncomfortable man, the opposite of what you had seen and experienced, made your lips curve into a satisfied smile.

Life had heard your pleas and you were thankful.

Your breath hitched as soon as the machine's accessory made contact with your skin. Cool plastic, like the cold gel all over your skin.

"Let's see", Dr. Vincent mumbled as she adjusted her glasses in her nose bridge. The white light illuminated well the, place, her faint smell of vanilla perfume tickled your nose, it wasn't an offensive perfume, but it made you a little queasy.

It definitely shut down the medicinal smell you had been received with.

Dr. Vincent's gloved hands took the transducer and gently moved it around your belly.

"Does it feels cold?"

You nodded with a nervous smile, "A bit, yeah."

Mayday's giggles echoed behind you, MJ shushed her with some gentle words and her breath hitched when she looked at the screen.

The redhead looked like was experiencing so many things for the first time again, yet she held your hand with excitement thrumming in her skin.

"Look at that, Mama"

The word still made you uncomfortable, but the way the doctor had spilled it felt oddly soothing. The baby was there, etched forever to your womb, growing within your guts each passing day, squirming like a little worm, making it's presence known with a kick.

MJ could only watch as you chuckled. Your features softened the more you stared at the screen. But then your eyes widened at seeing the baby's 3D image.

Resting against one of your womb, comfortably, squeezing it's little hands over and over.

And if honest, curiosity had gotten a vice like grip on you. The way the baby moved and nested within you was equally disturbing and beautiful.

The transducer moved all over as Dr. Vincent looked up the right angle. Breath grew short and caught in your throat at the doctors next words.

"There she is"

MJ gasped, excited and your eyes turned bleary.

A girl. You were having a girl.

"Congrats, Mama." The doctor printed the pictures.

The little bean inside was a girl. There was no longer an it, no longer the creature, or the baby.

Despite the though times you've endured, she was healthy. Perfectly developing, a bit underweight, but healthy.

A myriad of things crossed your mind, panic, admiration, fear and so much confusion. They all swirled inside your jumbled head, fighting over the control of your emotions.

MJ squeezed your hand as soon as she noticed the red-ish hue blooming in your nose and the glossy eyes.

A little sniff was stifled. The doctor smiled at your apparent emotional reaction.

"It's ok to cry. I've gotten too many boys in the week, seeing a girl a was a change of pace. Thank you for that, hun." Dr. Vincent spoke with a sweet voice.

You couldn't help but sob silently. Digesting every second of what had just happened. The nauseas had subsided momentarily, as if sensing you needed your strength for something else.

It didn't help your hormones that Mayday took a hold of your finger, big blue eyes staring at you with pure child like wonder as if demanding your attention. Your lips quivered, and when she cooed your way, you broke.

It's alright.

She'd surely say. MJ held you close, rubbing your back in soothing circles, letting you absorb the news at your own pace.

"You ok?"

You nodded, holding onto her tightly.

"It's a girl, MJ"

Your best friend smiled sympathetically your way, "Indeed. And she's healthy. You've done a fantastic job in keeping her that way, sweetie. I'm proud of you."

Her words did nothing but make you cry harder.

"I'm so scared, MJ"

"I know. But it's alright. I'm here and Mayday too, remember?"

You chuckled in between tears and sighed, while wiping your tears.

"I'm so scared cause... I don't wanna repeat things all over with her."

"Then let's make them differently, ok? I'm here. You're not alone."

You hugged her once more.

"Let's celebrate, yeah?"

"I... I don't know if I should even do that, all things considered."

MJ chided your name gently.

"You deserve it. You've faced so much already, this little girl right here" She placed her hand in your belly, "has stayed healthy and perfect because of you. You've done so much. So let's celebrate that, ok?"

Even if you thought yourself undeserving of such thing, you nodded and followed her.

You wouldn't admit it, but a deep deep part of you bloomed with a little seed of curiosity and excitement.

-----

Taglist:

@serpentstarr @randomnobody187 @8xbygirl @del-ightfulling @iytatsworld @moonzuzuu @huehuehuehuehehe @ryk-mt @deputy-videogamer @sizeablysized @katitakenway @stealyourblorbos @beingdeluluisthesolulu @death-moth-art @obsessedwithromance @crybabiixo @spiderpapi2099 @tremendouswolfsaladranch @cherrycosmos392 @sbrn0905 @xylianasblog @elgatofx @eepiebeepie @vonev @tatatida @freehentai @scaryplanetdestroyer @minalovesyoubabes @emeloyy @migueloharastruelove @jdbxws @m4dyy @nyxzoldyck6 @fruitychae @francesca-the-1st @siidmm @ana-paulinathe-arts @artyanimi @damhanallagorm @lauraolar14 @what-is-your-wish @oharasfilipinawife @jellyboob @aockskcw @ittybxttykxttytxtty @smartyren @plumplum2099 @angel-of-the-moons @reader-1290 @kaidxra @kimmis-stuff @amberpanda99 @orangemango7

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Of Flowers and Hummingbirds #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara angst

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peachpitlover · 10 months

Text

Vulnerable

In which Y/n is JJ’s anxious girl but he’ll always protect her.

Pairing: JJ Maybankx Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Swearing (just a little), talk of anxiety and ocd, mentions of medication, mentions of physical abuse (not reader or jj), and smut

My Masterlists

~~~

JJ learned early on in their friendship that Y/n was much more reserved than the rest of the group. Don’t get him wrong, she was fun and outgoing and silly, but the smallest thing would have her shrinking into herself. It was only when they started dating that she opened up to him. She explained that she was diagnosed with severe anxiety when she was twelve, as well as OCD. Her mom tried every possible remedy in the book; therapy, OCD clinics, meditation, and natural remedies but nothing worked. She got put onto medication after a year of no relief and the dose was slowly rising until about a year ago. The medication did a great deal to help her, but her thoughts were still often clouded with anxiety. While the severity of Y/n’s OCD died down a lot, she still found herself needing to check her pockets and bag multiple times before leaving the house, and opening and closing the fridge door more times than she can count “because it didn’t sound right.” The Pogues knew better than to disturb her antics and waited patiently for her to sigh in relief and look up with a smile.

Once Kiara had tried to interrupt Y/n’s trance of opening and closing the front door of the Chateau, but it only ended in Y/n cutting into the palms of her hands with her nails as she tried to control herself and tears from the anxiety she felt because once again “it didn’t feel right.” JJ had also once tried to stop her from the never ending cycle of Y/n tapping each side of her arm to make it “feel even.” Then, she had snapped at JJ and locked him out of his own room. She’s well aware that this only exists in her head, but it doesn’t do much to make the feeling any less real.

JJ is against the headboard of her bed with Y/n on his lap. His hands roaming from her shoulders to her hips and back as he kissed her. With both hands in his hair, Y/n panted and squirmed in his arms while her hips gently ground into his.

“You want to do something tonight, angel? Don’t have to, I just think you’re a little needy,” he smiled as he broke away from her swollen lips.

“Um,” she mumbled. “maybe. I don’t know, like what?”

“Anything you want, maybe just putting my hand inside your shorts and rubbing you? Hm, how’s that sound?”

“I don’t know J,” she whined as she picked at her nails.

JJ only frowned and took her hands in his.

“Don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok baby? Just tell me you don’t like it and we’ll stop,” he’s heard the story of her friend in high school who beat up his girlfriend. He was the last person you would expect to do something like that, and the thought constantly haunted her mind when surrounded by men. She trusted JJ with her whole heart, but her brain told her that she could never know for sure.

“Like, how?”

“How I would rub you?” He clarified.

“Mhm,” she whispered.

He smiled at her shyness: “Just over your panties sweet girl, unless you want more. Just play with your little clit and make you feel good,” he spoke as he held eye contact with her.

“Yeah,” she murmured as her eyes dropped to their intertwined hands.

“Yeah? You want that?”

She nodded with a shy smile before hiding in his neck and he tsked at her.

“Gotta use your words. I’m not gonna do anything until you say what you want.”

“I want that, JJ.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, yes please,” she whined.

“That’s my girl, kiss me baby. I’ll do the rest,” he smiled as she surged forward and her hands went straight to his hair.

JJ continued to kiss her and rub her back as his right hand crept lower and lower until it was resting over her hip, massaging at the skin and pulling at the band of her sleep shorts.

“Can I, baby?” He spoke against her.

“Yes,” she whined and connected their lips again.

As his hand dipped into her shorts the slightest bit, her stomach tensed involuntarily.

“It’s ok,” she whispered almost immediately.

He continued until his fingers were resting just above her clit and his wrist submerged fully into her shorts.

“Just focus on kissing me, baby,” he whispered into her mouth and moved his left hand to her lower back.

Once his fingers rested on her clit, she jumped and gasped, he felt her lashes flutter against his skin as her eyes shot open.

“It’s ok, angel. I’ve got you, I’d never hurt you, my baby. You’re ok,” he whispered.

“It’s just…” she cut herself off as she pulled her head back.

“I know, you’re ok. You’re my sweet girl, I’d never hurt you. Not ever, if you want to stop we can.”

“I know that, it’s just new, is all.”

“I know, and you’re doing so good for me, do you wanna keep going?”

“Yes please.”

He smiled against her lips and kissed the corner of her mouth. Moving his lips to her cheeks and jaw, and eventually her neck. JJ pressed his fingers into her gently and he felt her thighs tense; “I’m ok,” she whispered.

“You’re ok,” he confirmed in between kissing. He began to circle his fore and middle fingers against her as gently as possible.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Oh?” JJ smiled into her neck.

“I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, feels really nice,” she breathed out an almost moan as he pushed his fingers against her mound with a little more pressure.

“Must have been aching, huh sweet girl? I can feel how warm you are.”

“Needed it,” she whined.

“Yeah? You needed me to touch you?”

“Mhm- JJ!” She sucked in some air as he let his hands dip until his fingers rested over her slit, still over her panties. He pushed slightly, not enough to push his fingers in, but enough to satiate that ache and draw out a loud moan.

“I know, I’ve got you,” he whispered before his lips found hers once again and his left hand on her back pulled her impossibly closer.

“I liked the other thing, can you do that again?”

“You liked when I rubbed your clit?”

“Mhm,” she moaned and bucked her hips when his fingers rested on her covered clit.

“Words, baby. Or I’ll stop,” he reminded gently.

“Yes, J! Please,” JJ couldn’t get enough of the sweet moans and whimpers that came from her, they made his stomach flip as an ache settled between his legs.

“More please,” she whimpered and ground her hips down into his hand.

“Can I touch you under your panties? Is that what you want?” Y/n couldn’t help the way her stomach fluttered when he called them panties.

“Yes please, I really want that,” she whispered and smiled shyly.

“Ok sweet girl,” he smiled and slid his hand into her panties. “God, you’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Oh fuck!” She cried and closed her hand around his hair and tugged.

“Feels good?” He teased her.

“S-so good. Please, please,” she didn’t know what she was asking for, her mind too muddled with pleasure to think of anything else.

“Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, yes J, please.”

“Cum for me, angel, I’ve got you.”

Her moans became louder and more frantic as her head fell back and her thighs began to shake.

“Oh my god!” Y/n came with one final mewl.

“Good girl, so good for me.”

“Thank you JJ,” she smiled as she nuzzled her head into his neck.

“Don’t have to thank me. I hate to make you get up but I have to go to the bathroom.”

“No, just a few minutes, please?” She pouted and whined.

“I gotta go take care of myself then I’m all yours.”

She stared at him for a moment before her eyes widened in understanding; “Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’ll be quick I promise,” he kissed her one last time before standing up.

“JJ?” She called just before he entered the bathroom.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you, thank you,” she smiled.

“I love you more than you know, angel girl.”

#peach’s writing #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank writing #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank obx #jj #jj obx #soft!jj maybank #jj maybank x reader

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alwritey-aphrodite · 5 months

Note

SHDNDJ IVE BEEN CALLED FOR YPU DONT KNOW HOW SPECIAL THAT MAKES ME FEEL OMG🤭 LOVE YOUU!!

ok so these are kind of just half-ideas that I’ve thought of that aren’t fully formed but I’m sure you’ll be able to think of something with your giant amazing brain😍 feel free to disregard these tho they’re kinda trash

- sejanus being really flirty with reader at the club place while he’s in district 12 (idk if that really fits his character but I feel like he could get bold at times🙏) and she’s just not really connecting the dots. her friend Lucy gray has to flat out tell her and reader has a giant revelation

- reader catches snow recording sejanus’ conversation about the rebellion and calls him out for it, stands up for her mans

-ok so this is kind of a song prompt— “Dear Arkansas Daughter” by Lady Lamb specifically the line “you with the dark curls, you with the water color eyes” not really sure what you could do with that, but maybe something with capital!sejanus w/ his curly hair

hope these give you some inspo pookie!!

love,

pooksters 💖

Your ideas are not trash!! Please feel free to send more or just to hop into my ask box to chat <3 I went with the first idea because it’s adorable but I might come back and write the other ones at some point

If the day that Lucy Gray was reaped was the worst day of your life, then the day that she miraculously returned to District Twelve as victor of the Hunger Games was the best. Ever since then, you spend most of your nights at the Hob with the rest of the Covey, sometimes taking the stage yourself but most of the time dancing and clapping from the audience.

Peacekeepers off duty are a normal sight in the Hob, but there are two in particular that seem to have a connection with Lucy Gray, two Capital boys that she knew during her time in the Games. You’re not sure how they came to be peacekeepers stuck in District 12, but you know better than to ask. They’re nice boys, and the blond one, Coriolanus, is absolutely smitten with Lucy Gray, you’re sure he’d do anything she asked. The other one, Sejanus, seems to have less of a connection to Lucy Gray but he’s kind all the same, and most nights he spends at the Hob are spent talking with you at a back table, away from the stage and the dance floor.

Tonight, Lucy Gray is taking a night off from performing and has joined you and Sejanus as you watch the rest of the Covey, Coriolanus never far from her side.

“I like your dress,” Sejanus says over the music, leaning over to speak into your ear so you can hear him clearer.

“Thank you, I made the one Maude Ivory’s wearing too,” you gesture towards the stage where the younger girl is busy singing.

“You’re very talented,” Sejanus turns to face you, giving you his undivided attention despite everything that goes on in the Hob.

“Oh, it’s not as hard as it looks,” you respond with a smile before pushing off the wall and heading to the bar, leaving a giggling Lucy Gray to deal with a despondent Sejanus.

“You’d think a girl as pretty as her is used to all the compliments and the flirting, but you’ve gotta be more obvious than that,” Lucy Gray tells him with a mischievous smile, as if you’d rather have the floor swallow you whole than have her share this information. Before Sejanus can respond, you’re returning with a tray of drinks for everyone in your little group, and he just about melts with the smile you give him as you slide the glass into his hand.

“Maybe, if you’re not busy, you could show me around some time? I’d really like to learn more about twelve,” he asks, and you’re quick to nod in agreement.

“Oh sure, I can show you all the best spots,” you reply kindly, but Lucy Gray knows you’re still not getting the message.

“He means you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen,” she whispers into your ear, loud enough for Sejanus to hear, “and the sweetest and the funniest and the most talented.” You look to Sejanus with wide eyes, as if Lucy Gray would be lying, but he’s nodding at you, despite the blush that’s taken over most of his face.

“Well, I’d still love to go,” you tell him, rewarding with the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. The two of you spend the rest of the night talking, the chaos of the Hob fading into nothing while Lucy Gray silently watches with a smile.

#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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sev-on-kamino · 10 months

Text

Y’all thirsty? No? Let’s change that! We’re talking ✨Commander Fox✨ today.

I’ve got Fox on the brain, and you know me: I’ve gotta make that everyone’s problem. (MINORS DNI)

Fox’s priorities: his job, his brothers, making sure the caf machine is always in working order, and making sure no one ever finds out he’s been sneaking Grizzer treats for months (notice that his own well-being isn’t on that list😒)

He hasn’t finished a hot cup of caf in months.

He and Wolffe have a call once every couple of weeks, as time allows, to catch up. Wolffe fusses at Fox for taking crap care of himself, and Fox pretends to be annoyed, but he loves it.

They text in between calls, and it’s mostly just roasting the shit out of each other

Big “I wasn’t sleeping I was resting my eyes” energy

He has a weakness for sweets, like “ooh a piece a candy” right into a trap kinda weakness. Thorn has been known to include sweets with his reports when he knows there’s some shit in there that’s gonna get Fox’s blood pressure up.

Stomach sleeper with one leg out from under the blanket

Amazing card player, like take him to the casino today (Only Cross and Tech are better than Fox imo)

Lowkey loves fucking with people. Wolffe and Thorn the most of course.

He’s a hardass but he will do the sweetest shit for people he loves. Just don’t call too much attention to it because he’s got a reputation to maintain 😒

It ventures into NSFW territory past this point, Minors DNI 🔞

Fox x Reader HCs

some of these are mad specific because of my in progress series 😅

He’s awkward in the transition from friends w/ benefits to an actual relationship

He’s very much the “you? in love with me? sounds fake but ok” type

Even if he’s in love with you, he won’t believe it. You have to show him all the time. He needs hard evidence 🧐

He’s a “let’s be alone together” partner. You’re doing your thing, he’s doing his thing. He likes that he can see you, and that he can reach out and touch you whenever he likes

When he cares for someone, they’re getting all the sweet pillow talk, take notes while he’s in a sharing mood

The post-nut clarity can either take him to a really great place (ah, this person I’m with does care for me and want me for me), or a horrible place (oh, I’m just another notch in their bedpost and why are they still here???)

He enjoys orgasm control/denial

He defaults to positions where he can see your face the whole time because you look pretty while he’s ruining you

Once things are established, and he’s grudgingly accepted that you truly care for him, and he’s done resisting feelings for you, you’ve unlocked soft!Fox

Soft!Fox only exists behind closed doors but he’ll make you fall in love with Fox all over again

More on soft!Fox in a future post 😌

tagging: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream

#tcw commander fox #tcw fox #commander fox x reader #fox hcs #commander fox headcanons #fox headcanons #reader insert #star wars the clone wars #seven writes

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garbbitch · 2 months

Note

I would die for some car sex smut with Julien ❤️

this has been rattling around my brain for a while

julien had taken you out to go see a movie and you guys were driving home. there was great deal of traffic for whatever reason so you and julien talked casually as the radio played softly in the background.

"what'd you think of the movie?" she asked you, her hand moved to the dash to adjust the air. you looked at her fingers over the dials.

"i liked it." you said back to her looking at her face. you smiled softly as your eyes fell onto the familiar slope of her nose.

"what're you smilin about?" she asked as she glanced over to you.

"oh nothin," you said quietly as you watched her smile.

"uh huh, sure." she said sarcastically. as she was driving she needed to take a look in the back and rested her hand on the back of your seat as she leaned over. you felt your face heat up slightly as she did this.

"you ok?" she teased noticing the blush on your face.

"yeah." you said softly as your eyes widdened slightly. she rested a hand on your thigh as she continued to drive. she tapped her fingers on your thigh occasionally as you watched her face while she drove.

she smirked as she drove. you noticed the small smirk playing on her lips.

"what'd you think of the movie?" you said to her as you moved a hand to hers on your thigh, slowly tracing over the tattoos.

"i thought it was good." she said back nonchalantly as she felt your hand on hers. she squeezed your thigh gently.

she stopped at a red light. you kissed her passionately making sure to pay a little attention to the stop light ahead. julien's hand moved off the steering wheel to your cheek to run her thumb across it gently. you pulled away just in time for her to focus on driving.

"what was-" she started as she refocused on driving. "what was that?" she glanced over to you.

"nothin." you said back to her as you wiped your lip while smirking. julien shook her head while smiling before turning the radio up a little.

"is 'nothin' the only thing you know how to say?" she teased.

"maybe" you said back to her. she stopped at another red light, you took your chance to kiss her hard. she hummed softly into the kiss. she moved a hand to your hair running her fingers through it. you deepened the kiss slightly and bit her lip. you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss when you heard a car honking behind.

"fuck baby- what're you tryin to do to me?" she said breathaly "and don't say nothin again." she added with a little sass before glancing at you as you panted softly.

"you just look really good right now." you said softly as you moved your hand to hers that was still resting on your thigh. she smirked.

"do i?" she said while she playfully batted her eyelashes. you shook your head at her while chuckling a little.

as you drove you found the traffic getting worse and worse but your need for her only grew as you teased her. the teasing seemed to affect you more than her, only a little. her nuckles on the steering wheel were turning white.

her hand on your thigh changed positions slightly, her fingers were now resting on your inner thigh holding your legs open a little. as you sat in traffic you both grew antsy.

"fuck-" she cursed under her breath as the car sat still behind rows and rows of cars. her hand shifted up your thigh slightly, her hand touching the seam of your shorts.

"what's with all the traffic?" you asked as you looked out the window attempting to see what exactly was causing all of this traffic. she moved her fingers over the seam of your shorts. you hummed softly and she chuckled.

you turned your body to face her and kissed her hard. she moved her hand from your thigh to your hips as you were practically climbing over the center console of the car. you deepened the kiss and moaned softly.

"princess, i gotta drive." she said after reulctantly pulling away.

"really? no one else is." you said back to her, you moved your hand up to her face and stroked her lips softly with our thumb.

she smiled and shook her head. "baby, i can't get that distracted while driving." she said softly. you dramatically huffed and sat back down in your seat properly.

"i don't see much driving." you said looking out the window. she moved her hand to your leg. she turned to look at her mirrors and turned down a side street.

"where are we-" you started before julien cut you off.

"don't worry about it," she said as she pulled into an empty parking lot. she moved her hand up your thigh slightly, squeezing it a little. you kept your eyes on her hand, looking at the way her tattoos seemed to be woven into her skin. she pulled into a parking spot, purposely parking incorrectly. she moved the hand on the wheel over to your chin and moved your face towards her. she leaned in and kissed you softly. you leaned into the kiss humming softly as you practically climbed over the center console.

“baby-” she started before you cut her off by another kiss as you moved pretty much on top of her in her seat. you only hummed softly.

“julien, i want you so bad” you said softly between kisses to her lips and jaw. she rested her hands on your hips. she moved a hand down to your ass and squeezed it firmly.

“get in the back seat…” she whispered in your ear before kissing your jaw. you leaned into the kiss slightly before opening her door and getting out so you could move to the back. she watched you walk outside the car with a smirk playing on her lips.

she got out and moved behind you, she kissed you hard up against the outside of the car, she pushed her thigh between your legs. you moaned softly feeling her knee on your clit through your shorts.

she chuckled and opened the car door. she softly pushed you onto the seat before kissing you again.

“julien-” you started to say as she moved her hands under your shirt, running her hands over your stomach and over your bra. “in the car?” you asked as you panted softly as she moved her lips over your neck.

“only if you want it.” she said back before looking up at you.

“really?” you asked surprised by how she was acting.

“why not?” she asked as she moved up and kissed your cheeks.

“i dunno, it’s your car” you say softly. “i do want you so bad right now…” you said softly. she smirked and kissed you again.

“you sure you wanna do this?” she asked gently as she peppered kisses along your neck and jaw.

“mmhmmm” you hummed softly.

“words baby.” she said a little firmly, you loved when she said that to you.

“yes i’m sure” you said softly.

she pulled your shirt over your head causing your tits to bounce in your lacy bra. she tossed your shirt into the front seat.

“so naughty” she teased in your ear before moving a hand down your tits. she teased your nipples through the lace of your bra. your breath caught in your throat. she peppered small kisses along your chest as she unhooked your bra before tossing it to the side, letting it land somewhere in the front seat.

she kissed all over your tits while groaning softly. “god- i love your tits” she said softly, it made you giggle softly. she moved her mouth to one of your nipples making you moan softly and tangle your hands in her hair, pulling it slightly.

“fuck- julien” you moaned softly. she groaned as you pulled her hair. she moved her mouth off your nipple with an obnoxious pop before kissing her way down your stomach and stopping at the button of your shorts.

“darlin, can i take these off?” she asked softly, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

“please julien,” you said softly. she unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down your legs with your panties before placing a kiss to your hip and then moving down your thighs. you subconsciously rolled your hips. she tossed your shorts and parties somewhere in the front seat with the rest of your clothes.

“so impatient.” she teased softly before opening your legs gently. she placed small kisses to your inner thigh.

“it’s your fault.” you grumbled softly.

“how so?” she asked before running her tongue over your clit softly. you moaned and your head fell back against the other car door making you curse under your breath.

“you alright?” she picked her head up to ask you.

“yes, i’m good. just don’t stop.” you said to her picking your head up. she moved her mouth back to your clit, not teasing anymore. you moaned and tangled your hands in her hair, pulling it slightly as she continued.

she sucked on your clit, she knew how to make you come undone under her. your hips bucked and you could’ve sworn you saw her smirk. you pulled her hair a little harder as high pitched moans left your lips.

“fuck- baby-” you said softly before being cut off by another moan. she slowed her movements as you came down from your orgasm.

you pulled her up to you and kissed her. she smiled against your lips and you moaned softly, tasting yourself on her lips. you gently pulled on her shirt.

“you’re wearin too many clothes.” you said softly. she chuckled.

“maybe you’re wearin too little.” she teased and you swatted her shoulder playfully.

“you took all of them” you said softly smiling at her.

“did i really? oops.” she said back before kissing your cheek. you blushed and she laughed at how easily you blushed.

“you’re adorable. but you should probably get dressed so we can get home and have some proper fun.” she said softly. you kissed her before sitting up realizing julien threw all of your clothes in the front seat, just far enough out of your reach from the back seat.

“really?” you said with feigned offense while looking at her, she laughed softly and grabbed your clothes for you, climbing over the center console to get it.

#julien baker smut #julien baker

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regalbootie · 1 year

Text

Trying Something New In the Bedroom Chapter 3

Chapter 3 NSFW 18+ NO MINORS PLEASE

Larissa Weems x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, overstimulation, spanking again cos I'm a whore, shapeshifter peen, Dom Mommy.

Notes: This was requested by the lovely @marilynthornhilllover and I had also received great help with this fanfic from many people i gotta say you guys are awesome. there will be a chapter 4! it just may not be rather smutty hehehe.

Requests are still open and I'm also taking suggestions for other characters to write about so if you craving something ill give it a shot! let me know what you all think of this anyways!

You pout as the cabin slowly goes out of sight, wishing you could stay there forever with your wife. It was bliss a week of rough fucking along with some tenderness of curling up in front of the fireplace together breathing in the calmness that the homey little cabin provided.

“Oh Darling, I promise we’ll come back soon” Larissa ran a hand over your leg, her fingers drawing soothing shapes that had no meaning. Resting your head against the window and burning the memory of the scenery into your brain when you notice the car rolling to a standstill.

“what’s wrong darling?” looking over at your wife you notice a fork in the road.

“I’m just trying to remember which way to go my love” Squinting hard like she was envisioning a big sign saying this way. “I think it's right” starting to turn the car to go right you place a hand on her thigh.

“I’m pretty sure its left darling”

“No I am sure it is right” Larissa starts the car again “and I am pretty sure it is left” you scowl and let out a huff. Larissa turns to stare at you with that look that says ‘don’t be a brat right now.'

“Ok go right just don’t complain to me when you realize you went the wrong way” now it's Larissa’s turn to scowl and she takes the right turn. Smirking when she reaches the main road and lifting a brow to say ‘I told you so’.

You stick your tongue out at her and she rolls her eyes at you. The rest of the drive was smooth sailing and it was dark once the car rolled up outside the school, a storm had arrived at the same time and thunder was booming in the distance.

Jumping at the strike of lightning the two of you grab your bags as fast as possible making your way through the dim and empty school to your shared quarters. None of the teachers were arriving till tomorrow so it would just be the two of you as the grounds keeper and cleaners would be home hours ago.

Unpacking you notice Larissa is nowhere to be seen, huffing you unpack the last of everything and go hunting for your wife. Noticing a glow of light coming from under the door to her office you knock lightly as the door swing slowly open to the most beautiful sight before you.

Slowly you come up behind her as she gazes into the fireplace the fire roaring before you. Wrapping your arms around her waist resting your tired head on her back, feeling the tension release from her you lay kisses along her shoulders.

Turning in your arms you couldn’t help but smile up at her beautiful face, she was like an angel sent from heaven the fire casting a halo-like effect over her, but little did you know she was going to be the devil.

“You were being very bratty earlier darling” she pulled away from your arms and moved to sit in the armchair beside the glowing embers. “I think you should be punished for how you acted towards your mistress”

Blinking slowly, you realized what feeling she was making run through your body. The wave of excitement traveled down your spine, leaving chills all over your back. Licking your lips, faking a look of innocence for your mistress.

Patting her thigh, you slowly moved to lay across her legs, “I’m sorry Mistress.” Your core was already starting to throb with need as you lay over her like a good little pet for her.

“Oh, I don’t think sorry is going to cut it right now baby” running her hands up over your legs digging her nails in leaving red marks in her wake making you shiver and arch into her more. Reaching your core, she continues dragging her nails and suddenly rips your panties off, making you jump in her lap and even more juices gather and begging for her to taste.

A low seductive chuckle rises from Larissa it almost sounded like a growl and, you knew you were in for a real punishment tonight. Lifting your skirt, she roughly clawed up them from your core, lifting her hands to land rough spanks.

Crying out and yelping “Mommy please” you beg with her after each spank until your ass was glowing bright red and the heat from the fire was not helping with the pain, but the pleasure mixed with it was all-consuming.

“Oh, you want to please mommy? Let me see how good you're being” running her fingers through your folds, her fingers instantly drenched with your juices. Feeling her long fingers run through you was so painstakingly good, you had to stop yourself from gutting your hips back and displeasing mistress.

“Oh, look how good you’re being” licking her fingers clean moaning at how divine you tasted on her tongue. God, you wished you could suck those fingers, your thoughts earning a whimper as you stop yourself from drooling.

“Up you get” Barely giving you an opportunity to get up from her lap you fall to the floor scrambling to your feet, whimpering at the fabric of your skirt brushing against your burning cheeks.

Grabbing and pouring a glass of wine Larissa rested back into her seat, “play with yourself darling I want to see my little plaything warm herself up for me”

A warmth runs up your face with her request and you shuffle on your feet “don’t go shy on me now, you were a whimpering messy slut just now” sipping on her whine she takes you by the waist guiding you to staddle her. Your dripping core meeting her front making it throb even more at the friction.

“Come on be good for mommy” she takes your hand with her free hand guiding it down, rubbing them over your dripping cunt. Moaning you dropped your head to rest it on her shoulder “fuck mommy” bucking your hips the new stimulation sending shock waves straight through your entire body.

“Keep going I want to watch you” She starts to strip you as you pleasure yourself over her, your fingers gliding over your core and how that you were free from clothes you used your free hand to grab your breast. Palming it as you pinched your own nipples, getting lost in the pleasure you were building you closed your eyes as your head fell back your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Larissa couldn’t help but watch you, the way your eyebrows knitted together and the way you bit down on your bottom lip it was like a goddess had come down to bless her with your mere presence. Sipping on more wine Larissa drank all of you in her eyes roaming every inch of you.

The pleasure in you had built too quickly you didn’t think you would have been so close to cumming but here you were writhing above her gasping for air. “cum for me darling I want to see you”

All it took was those words, her voice was raspy from the wine sending that last piece of pleasure breaking the dam, a shiver running up your back. “Yes mommy” you cried out for her letting her know that she was the last piece you needed. Your hands jolted as the lingering pleasure ripped through you, slowing down once the stimulation got too much.

“oh no baby keep going” she took your hand again making you apply more pressure and picking up the speed. “It’s too much mommy” your hand falters in her grip but she keeps going making you rub your clit as your body shakes from the overstimulation.

“Let mommy help you” setting her glass down on the table beside her Larissa runs her fingers through your folds, slowly inserting her fingers inside your pussy instantly clenching around her. Biting the inside of your mouth you tried to regain your focus, the pleasure of everything was drowning you. Your eyes flutter open to look at Larissa who was licking her lips, her eyes were burning with desire, and it looked animalistic.

“Keep going until I decide you can stop lovely” her free hand guided your hips to thrust down onto her fingers. You were fucking yourself on her fingers and nothing could be hotter, you were on fire your whole body was burning up and the only thing that could fix it was those long fingers that were reaching those deep spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Fuck mommy it feels so good” her grip tightening on your hip was strong enough to leave marks. Her other hand was still holding your hand in place making you rub your clit, moving your hand to move faster over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking the overstimulation was immense and not having a break between your first orgasm had you gasping and panting as your next one was building too fast for you to keep up with. She kept hitting that perfect spot in you pulling sinful moans and cries from your lips.

“God you look like a sinful mess baby” leaning forward she laid a soft kiss behind your ear making your knees buckle ever so slightly making her fingers hit even deeper. A scream of pleasure was all you could make and she attacked your neck.

She was ruthless as she bit and suck leaving deep red marks along your neck, it was unbearable the pleasure that was consuming you “Pl..please please I'm going to cum” sobbing as she bit that sensitive spot, you went ridged as you gushed over her fingers.

Screaming curses you shook, feeling like you were being torn in half with the sparks flying through your body as you came all over her fingers. “yessss just like that for mommy, let it go, ride it out”

Forcing your hips to keep moving as you shook, Larissa grinned you were a masterpiece of a mess and she was the artist. Licking over your bruised neck she slowly withdrew her fingers and it finally felt like you could breathe again and your body slumped against her.

“oh baby I am not finished with you yet” hooking her arms under your legs she stood and you scrambled to grab onto her holding tight. Your pulse quickened realizing there was more to come, your pussy was throbbing and you didn’t know how much more you could take.

You could feel the cold wood on your back as she lay you down over her desk, taking a step back to gaze over your sweat slicken body. “fuck you are so beautiful like this” your eyes were closed as you tried to catch your breath still and you could hear the faint noise of a zipper over the blood thumbing in your ears.

Next was the still new but familiar sensation of Larissa’s new favorite toy and also your new favorite, she ran her cock through your folds making sure her tip rubbed up against your clit spending more shock waves through you, jumping on the table from the over stimulation.

“Is it still too much for you baby?” Your pussy was a mess it was throbbing and spasming still and Larissa had no intentions of slowing down. Moving her shaft to your entrance she slowly pushed just her tip in, as if mirroring each other both of you had your eyes rolling back.

“Yes, mommy but it's so good” whining your answer right back at her, Larissa’s knees almost buckled with how good you felt, your over-stimulated pussy clenching around her instantly and almost pulling her over the edge. Resting her head on your shoulder she worshipped your body leaving kisses across your skin.

“Good girl” She started her thrusts going slow so she could torcher you a little longer but also so she wouldn’t cum so quickly. You were a beautiful mess below her, and she wanted to worship you, she wanted to get down on her knees and pray to your dripping temple.

“You’re my good girl baby, you’ve done so well tonight” Biting down on your ear lobe you pulled your tired arms to wrap around her running your hands through her hair and pulling her closer to you so she can continue her prayers over your skin.

She couldn’t stop touching you all over one of her hands held one of your legs so they could stay wrapped around her while the other ran over your neck caressing down to reach your breast palming it in her hand “I love your body so much darling it’s a gift from the gods just so I can defile it with my lust”

Throwing your head back whimpering you clench harder around her shaft, you loved her fingers but having her inside you filling you fulling and stretching you deliciously as your pussy wrapped around her.

Picking up the pace Larissa started to gasp and whimper as she continued her travels along your body, swapping her hand on your breast for her mouth causing you to scream out more and your legs tighten pulling her deeper within earning a thrust to that special spot deep inside nearly making you black out.

The room was filled with the sounds of slapping skin as Larissa drove deeper continuing to hit that spot now that she found it. “I... I’m going to ahh” trying to talk was so hard your brain was mush at this point and stringing a sentence together was getting more and more difficult as your walls began to tighten but Larissa knew what you were going to say, she could feel it and she wanted it so badly.

“That good baby you cum for mommy, I’m so close too I want to fill you up while you milk me dry”

The next sound you make was a scream that ripped all the air out of your lungs, it was like you could see the stars and the heavens above but you were slammed back down to earth when you heard Larissa’s growl as she came to her climax.

It was animalistic the way she drove herself deeper making sure you took every inch of her, she was drowning in you her eyes her as dark as the night sky as the lust and feel of you drove her to fill you with every drop. She was ridged as she bit down hard on your shoulder, she was shaking as the pleasure coursed through her.

It took a moment for you both to grab your breaths but having her collapsed against your body helped ground you and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. It took Larissa a minute more to come back but you didn’t mind as you curled her loose strands of hair around your fingers while the other soothingly ran up and down her back.

“That was amazing darling” huffing out a breath as she changed her core back to its natural beauty, so she didn’t hurt you by having to slide out. "you weren't so bad yourself" giggling like a child at her.

“Let's get you cleaned up” On wobbly legs, she scooped you up in her arms to carry you back to bed. Laying you so gently onto the bed and gracing your face with feather-light kisses, Larissa was always a completely different person after sex she was so caring and attentive to you always making sure you were well taken care of.

Fetching a cool cloth she cleaned you up and wrapped you up in a blanket, “get some rest darling” moving to get off the bed you grab her wrist.

“Cuddles?” putting on your best doe-eyed look knowing she’ll never refuse you and cuddles. A big smile grew on your face as she pulled the blankets back to curl up beside you. “Always my love” wrapping her arms around you pulling you closer into her embrace.

The thunderstorm had started to fade away and the room was filled with the soft rumbling of distant thunder and soft breaths as you kissed her softly to sleep thinking to yourself how lucky you were to have this woman wrapped up in your arms.

…

It had been a month since your little getaway and the students had been back for a while, unfortunately a flu had been going around the school and no one could escape it. You had been one of those victims of the sickness that plagued you for 2 weeks now.

Here you were slumped over the toilet for the millionth time today, not even making it to the staff toilets you had to charge into the students to expel what little of breakfast you had left in your stomach.

The students inside were certainly startled and ran straight out as you heaved, resting your head over the cold stall wall you heard a familiar sound of heels travelling down the hall outside. “Love!?” Larissa called out for you, and you cursed the student that went running to the principle, you didn’t want to concern her and it had taken you a week just to convince her to let you return to work.

“I’m ok Larissa jus...” the stall door flew open the light shining in and Larissa gasped at the sight of you. Your hair was a mess and you were so pale it scared her, swooping you in her arms she stormed down the hall. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go back to work”

Kicking the door open to your private quarters she gently lay you down on the sofa “we are going to the doctor” you begin to interject but she shushes you earning a scowl.

“you have had this flu for 2 weeks now and you just keep getting worse darling!” she was rushing around the flat grabbing her things together and your coat. “we cant go now Larissa I have classes!”

“I have already had Professor Yen fill in for you, they will cover for you until we get this sorted”

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x you #fanfiction #smut #principal weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems smut #mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?

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wordsbyrian · 1 year

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Skater Girl - Alex Morgan x Reader

Summary: Childhood friends almost always drift apart but sometimes they find their ways back together. This fic is set in between the 2015 WWC and the 2016 Olympics.

A/N: I was watching a documentary on my favorite skateboarder Andrew Reynolds in which he talked about his battle with addiction and this is what came of it.

Trigger warning: Heavy discussion of drug and alcohol abuse, jokes about sobriety

For as long as you can remember Alex Morgan has been your best friend.

Just like any pair of childhood friends worth their salt, the two of you knew everything about one another.

At least you did from the ages of 3 to 14.

But like all great childhood friendships, you started to drift apart in high school. She had started playing club soccer and was quickly becoming the face of the varsity soccer team and you found that you had more fun hanging out with the skateboarders and stoners than waiting for her to be able to make time for you.

So while she was busy becoming an all-American and a top college prospect, you were rounding up amateur sponsorships for companies like Blind and Independent Trucks.

Then when she was running all over people at Cal, you were dropping out of the photography program at UCLA because you were going pro and collecting sponsors like a child on Halloween.

Overall, you hadn’t spoken to her in nearly 10 years, which is why you’re so shocked to see her standing over you as you lay at the bottom of one of the largest hills in LA, cracked helmet still on your head.

“Oh my god, are you ok,” she asks, bending over to try and look you in the eyes.

“Alex,” you say, still somewhat out of it. “What are you doing here?”

It takes her a moment, but as you sit up and take off your helmet, you can see the realization bloom in her eyes.

“Y/N/N,” she asks, getting a nod in response. “Are you ok, I saw you smash your head into the ground.”

As you go to answer you begin to hear the shouts of the crew you’re filming with as they finally make their way to the bottom of the hill.

“Trips, dude, we thought you just died,” Jay, one of your best friends, shouts as he gets close enough, “Who’s this?”

“This is Alex, my childhood best friend and world-champion soccer player,” you say, “Also, clearly not dead, the brain bucket saved me. Go get the car, I’m ready to call it a day, I’ve got road rash on my entire back.”

Watching for a moment as he runs back to the rest of your friends, you turn back to Alex still staring at you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry you had to watch me slam like that, you used to hate that.”

“Just found out that I still do, that was one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen,” she says, helping you to your feet, “Your body flew through the air.”

Grimacing a little at the feeling of your shirt against the raw skin on your back, you pick your board up and say, “I’m fine I promise, nothing that a shower, Neosporin, and some sleep can’t fix.”

The two of you stare at each other silently for a few moments and you can feel all the things you felt for her growing up come flooding back.

Fortunately, the sound of Jay laying on the horn of your car breaks you free of the hold she’s always seemed to have on you.

“I, uh, I’ve gotta go,” you say, jerking a thumb over your shoulder.

As you start backing away she reaches out and grabs your wrist.

“Meet me at our spot tomorrow,” Alex says hopefully, “3 p.m?”

“I can do that.”

She smiles before letting you go and walking back to what you can only assume is her car.

Making your way to your ride, you aren’t surprised when the second you climb in you’re greeted by the cacophonous noise of all your friends asking you what just happened.

“Don’t worry about it.”

The next day finds you rolling up to the far back corner of your childhood park where you and Alex would go when you simultaneously needed escapes from your homes.

You hear Alex before you see her, her raspy voice ringing out, “You still bring that thing everywhere you, huh?”

“In all fairness, I get paid to bring it everywhere now,” you say, taking a seat next to her.

“You went pro? I remember that being all you talked about in middle school.”

“Sophomore year of college,” you say with a grin, “I signed like three pro sponsorships in a week and dropped out of UCLA, it was barely two months into the school year.”

“That’s awesome, I’m happy it worked out for you.”

“Forget me, Lex, you’ve got an Olympic gold and World Cup,” you practically shout at her, watching as a blush appears on her cheeks.

“It wasn’t just me, it was a team effort.”

“Whatever bro, I saw that goal you scored in Manchester against Canada and the one against Colombia at the World Cup.”

“Okay fine, some of it was me,” she laughs.

Then before you know it, the afternoon trails into the evening, and the two of you spend hours talking about everything that has happened since you graduated high school.

But the one thing you refuse to answer, no matter how much she asks, is how you’ve acquired the nickname Trips.

That is until Alex says something so shocking that you know you have to tell her the truth.

“You know we thought you were dead or in jail,” she says, voice becoming thick with emotion.

“What?”

“When you didn’t come back at Thanksgiving in 2008 and your parents refused to even be in the same room as anyone who mentioned you, we thought the worst,” she explains.

“Fuck,” you say, “Alex, you have to know that I never meant to put your family through that, I was just dealing with some things.”

“What could you possibly have been going through that you couldn’t call us? I was your best friend, we’d known each other our entire lives.”

“Alex, be serious, we haven’t been best friends since the summer before 9th grade and you know it.”

“Y/N/N,” she starts but you cut her off.

“It’s fine really, it happens, but I wasn’t going to just dump my problems on you after not being around. That would’ve made me a shitty person.”

“What problems were so big that you had to face them alone?”

“Addiction,” you say, turning to stare out at the park.

You can feel her staring at the side of your head in silence but you don’t give her a chance to say anything.

“I’m like 4 years clean now but I’ve been addicted to alcohol and other stuff since I was about 15. In high school, your dad once found me passed out in the driver’s seat of my car smelling like a distillery with puke down the front of my clothes,” you explain. “It got really bad after I went pro and I almost died before I got clean.” Taking a deep breath you continue, “That game against Canada at the Olympics was my second day in rehab, I was so sick with withdrawal symptoms but I remember watching the ball come off your head at the last minute.”

“Can you look at me please,” she says, voice shaking, “I need you to look at me.”

Turning your head, you’re somewhat surprised to see the sight of Alex Morgan with tears streaming down her face.

“I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for getting clean, I’m happy you're alive and I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t come to me,” she says, tears flowing.

“Quit crying, you know I hate it when you cry,” you say, hoping that the reaction you used to have as a kid, would get her to smile like it used to.

It does and you get to watch as she smiles and wipes the tears from her face.

“Are you done now?”

“I’m done now,” she says with a laugh.

“Cool, your apology isn’t accepted by the way.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because you have nothing to be sorry for, bozo,” you say, “Both your parents and my parents tried to get me help while we were still in school and it didn’t work. So don’t try to apologize to me again, got it?”

“You’re still the nicest asshole I know,” she says, “who the fuck yells at a girl for crying?”

“An idiot whose nickname is based on her being a drug addict,” you guess.

That doesn’t get the laugh that you were hoping for but it’s enough to get you a small smile.

As the hours continue to pass, the conversation gets lighter as you reminisce about the crazy things you got up to as kids.

Eventually, you both have to leave but before you do Alex manages to secure a promise that you’ll attend her game in a couple of days with no new bumps, bruises, or scrapes.

So that’s exactly what you do.

That Saturday afternoon sees you walking down the steps in the stadium to your seat, which thanks to some magic pulled by Alex is so close that you feel like you’re on the field.

When you reach your seat you’re not completely surprised to see Alex’s parents and her sisters but they don’t seem surprised to see you.

“Y/N/N,” her mom asks in shock when she sees you coming down the row.

“Uh yeah,” you say, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck. “Hey Morgans.”

Before you have a moment to fully process what’s happening, you’re being pulled into a hug by Mr. Morgan and passed to each of the women in his family, but you end up back in his arms at the end.

“You have no idea how glad we are to see you,” he says.

“I think I might,” you reply. “Alex filled me in on what your worries were, they were pretty close up until a few years ago.”

That gets a few sad smiles out of the family which lets you know that Alex has filled them in on what you’ve been up to.

“That’s not funny, Y/N,” Mrs. Morgan says.

“It kind of is,” Jeni says, with Jeri nodding behind her.

“Jeri’s right,” you say, “Besides since I’m sober now, so you have to laugh at all my jokes about not being sober because I pulled myself together.”

“That’s not how it works, kid,” Mr. Morgan says.

“Welp it is now.”

It’s at that moment the teams begin walking out for the anthem and as though she could feel your eyes on her Alex immediately turns towards you, a grin appearing on her face as you lock eyes.

The first half of the game is fast and physical and you find yourself flinching every time Alex is taken down by a defender but just like when you were kids, she’s back on her feet before you can blink.

The half comes around and the US is up 2-0 but you still feel the need to get up and move around.

“Hey, I’m gonna get some tenders or something, does anyone want anything?”

“I’ll come with you,” Jeni says.

“Or you could tell me what you want,” you respond.

“I’m not making you buy me a beer.”

“I know that I’m not dressed like it right now but I can more than afford to buy you a 15-dollar beer,” you say before you understand why she’s protesting. “Fine, you can come with me but I’m still paying for it.”

When you get to the concession stand you ask her what kind of beer she wants but that isn’t what she’s focused on.

“When are you going to tell my sister that you’re in love with her?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Rolling her eyes, she speaks slower like you are some kind of dumbass, “When are you going to tell Alex you’ve been in love with her since forever?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, moving forward with the line.

“And I’m Elvis Presley,” Jeni sighs and runs a hand down her face.

From there the conversation switches to how you're doing with skateboarding and your sobriety, so you promise to show her some of the clips you’ve put together for your next video part.

That’s why it’s so surprising when the first thing out of her mouth when you get back to your seats is: “Mom, Dad, how long have Alex and Y/N been in love with each other?”

You’re even more surprised when neither of the elder Morgans looks up from their phones before answering: “Forever.”

“And how long have they both been acting like they're not?”

“Since at least the 7th grade, maybe earlier,” Jeri says.

“Can I just eat my tenders in peace,” you beg, not wanting them to notice the blush rapidly spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

Luckily, before anyone can respond the teams are trotting back out for the second half.

Unfortunately, the other team is much more physical in the second half, so you have to watch with bated breath as Alex gets taken down twice as much as she did in the first without any fouls being called.

Every time she hits the ground you wince a little bit harder, much to the amusement of both her sisters.

Then, there’s a corner in the 88th minute and you get to watch, in what feels like slow motion, as Alex gets her head to the ball and sends it into the back of the net.

“Fuck yeah, Alex,” you scream, leaping to your feet with the rest of the crowd.

You know she can’t hear you but the smile she sends in your direction makes it feel like she can.

Moments later, the match is over and after quickly shaking the hands of the opposing team and a short huddle, Alex is racing towards where you're sitting like she didn’t just play a full 90.

Much to your surprise, and her sisters’ enjoyment, she ignores the other Morgans completely to climb the barrier and pulls you into a hug.

“You came,” she whispers into your ear, trying to be heard over the nearby fans screaming her name.

“I did,” you respond. “You played amazing, that goal was magic.”

“Are you coming to dinner with us,” she asks, still not letting go.

“Yup, your parents have designated me as your chauffeur.”

She nods so you let her go, not at all shocked by the smile on her face as she greets her family.

It doesn’t last long though because one second Jeri is whispering in her ear and the next Alex is glaring back at her and dropping to the ground to join her teammates in greeting fans.

You and the Morgans stay for a bit watching her before making your way out of the stadium and to the parking lot. There you make promises to meet them at the restaurant, hauling Al along with you.

You don’t have to wait very long on your own in the lot, at least you don’t think you do but time does tend to get a bit weird when you’re practicing a new trick.

It's the sound of Alex’s voice yelling at you to do a kickflip that breaks your focus, (You do of course land a kickflip for her.)

“Not bad,” she says, reaching your car and throwing her stuff in the back before climbing in.

“I do aim to impress.”

The ride to the restaurant is calm, the only real noise being the sound of her playlist intermingling with the sound of LA traffic.

When you park and go to get out, you’re stopped by her relocking the doors.

You try to unlock them but she just locks them again, in a pattern that continues four times before you turn to look at her.

“Seriously Al?”

“I want to ask you something,” she says, “but you’ve spent the whole ride trying your hardest to ignore me.”

“I wasn’t ignoring.”

She cuts you off, “Yes you were. What did my sisters say to you because I thought we were gonna try being friends again.”

“They didn’t say,” cut off again.

“Just tell me what they said.”

You take a moment to think about whether or not you should and the somewhat desperate look on her face leads you to tell her.

“They said that you’ve been in love with me since forever. Your parents did too but that’s not possible,” you tell her, “because I definitely would’ve noticed if you were. I mean I literally spent our entire childhoods trying to impress you so I think Jeni and Jeri were just messing with me like they used to because you’re way too awesome to have ever been in love..”

You're cut off again but this time by the feeling of Alex grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing her lips to yours.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, she’s pulling away which is the opposite of what you want so you pull her back in so your lips meet again.

The second kiss is much longer than the first but before you can deepen it she pulls back.

��I am in love with you,” she says, slightly breathless, “and I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

You smile so widely that to an outsider it might’ve looked painful, “That’s awesome but there’s no way you’ve loved me longer than I’ve loved you.”

“Whatever Y/N/N,” she kisses you again, a slight peck this time, “let’s head inside before my parents start freaking out.”

She unlocks the car doors and gets out, stopping briefly to make sure you’re following her.

And you are, just like you did when you were kids and just as you will be for the rest of your lives.

#uswnt #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #womens soccer #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alex morgan #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

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mymultiverse00 · 7 months

Text

Mrs. Blum

My head is pounding. Over and over again, it’s drumming out a cadence in 4/4 time that I can feel behind my eyes, and in my ears, and all the way down to my stomach. I feel sick and hung over, but I have no idea Why I’m hungover. I don’t remember getting drunk last night. Actually, I don’t really remember anything from last night, but whatever I got up to has left me feeling sick as hell and I do not like it.

I pry my eyes open slowly and am momentarily blinded by a blazing hot sun shining in through a wall of very tall windows. Where the Hell am I? I wonder, taking a moment to try to focus on what’s going on outside, sitting up with a start when I finally start to recognize the landmarks. There’s an enormous fountain outside with dozens of people standing around it, and loud music playing in the distance. The Eiffel Tower stands across from that, looking very regal and pretty, but somehow not quite the right size. Eventually, my turtle slow brain clicks over. I’m in Las Vegas. Why the hell am I in Las Vegas? I really need some answers.

I look around the room a little and confirm that I am in a very large suite at the Bellagio Hotel, and judging by the overturned bottles and dirty glasses everywhere, I’ve been having a party. A tiny twinge between my thighs and complete lack of clothing tells me I’ve also been having sex, and likely quite a lot of it, but with who? That mystery is about to solve itself when the bathroom door suddenly flies open and a very naked and very aroused Roland Blum steps out.

“Roland! What the fuck are you doing here?” I shout, yanking sheets and blankets up over myself to hide my naked body.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/n!” He growls back. “Could you keep your screeching to a minimum this morning? I’m hungover as fuck and that’s not helping.”

“Sorry, you just surprised me is all, but what in the world is going on here? What are you doing in my hotel room and why the hell are we in Las Vegas?”

“Well, Mrs. Blum,” he began, swaggering over to join me on the bed. “First of all, it’s our hotel room. And second, it was your idea to come here in the first place, but I guess you chose to forget that.”

“My idea…? Wait. What did you just call me?”

“Mrs. Blum. Unless you want to keep your maiden name like some kind of bra burning feminist? We got married last night, kid.” He flashes his left hand at me, showing off a gold wedding band.

“What?!” I squeaked, scrambling to check my own ring finger and finding an enormous diamond resting there.

“Yeah. You came over to my place last night, crying about some shit that probably doesn’t matter and I offered to fuck you. You said the only way you would ever fuck me is if we got married so… there you go,” he concluded with his hands spread wide like some corny magician, giving me that self satisfied smile he always wears when he knows he’s won an argument.

“So you’re telling me, you drove us all the way to Vegas - to marry me - just so you could get some pussy?” I ask in disbelief.

“You’re damn right I did.”

“Huh.” I sit back against the headboard, taking in this new information and trying like hell to recall any of those events. “Was it any good?”

Roland gives me an offended look. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask me that, doll.”

“Well, I don’t know! I’ve never had sex with you before, not sober or as a married woman. I have nothing to compare it to.”

“Well then, let me tell you, wife,” he says lasciviously, slowly pulling down the sheets to expose my bare breasts to his eyes. “Married pussy is the best pussy. You wrapped your long legs around my head so goddamn tight last night, I thought I was going to pass out a couple of times! Then you did this thing to my ass…,” he shivers at the memory. “You’re a real freak, Y/n, and I gotta say, I like it!”

“And you’re ok with being married? To me?” I ask timidly.

“Fuck yes, Y/n. I’ve wanted to get inside your snatch for years! I got my trophy now, and I’m keeping it.” He leans over and kisses me roughly on the mouth. His beard tickles, but in the best way.

“So what do we do now?” I ask.

“Well, if you’re hungry, I can feed you my dick. If you’re not, I’ll eat your ass until you pass out. After that, who the fuck cares?”

I giggle. I’m beginning to come around to the idea of being married to this foul mouthed lawyer, and I’m thinking it might be helpful if I could remember having sex with my new husband, so I give in.

“Tell you what, husband. I’m going to order some room service from downstairs and then I’m going to eat it while I sit on your face.”

He growls in response, sliding in closer to me so his massive cock rubs against the side of my thigh. He starts sucking a bruise onto the side of my neck and pulling at my nipples.

“After we eat, if you’ve been a good boy, I’ll let you rail me against those big glass windows over there, for all the tourists to see.” His head pops up and he smiles widely.

“Goddamn it, Y/n. I fucking love being married to you.”

“Good. Now, I’ll sort out my breakfast, why don’t you sort out yours?”

“Yes, Mrs. Blum.”

The End

#roland blum #reader insert #Roland blum x reader #not beta'd #why did i write this #the good fight #michael sheen

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ch3rr13zk1n · 3 months

Text

Why Preston/Clone Riggy is the hottest shorts wars character

Incase you probably don't know, Shorts wars is a arg made by a bunch of dudes that make shorts and was created because of the clone accounts ( get it?? ) that steal their content. Basically when it started there were different bunch of QR codes that popped up on their shorts and when our scanned them they took you to a video where a guy named The Boss in a unpleasant gradient says that if they don't quit making shorts and rotting people's brains then they will get replaced. While a few listened, The rest didn't. And the other stuff happened blah blah blah. Anyways i also gotta say one of the creators was a guy named Danno and uh he makes shorts (obviously i mean this is fucking shorts wars what do you expect??) and he has a mascot character named Riggy who is a blue rabbit with red shorts, green eyes and a very interesting kill count.

Also Preston/Clone Riggy didn't get the name Preston until he decided to get a new name on Phaleur's stream where he went through Phaleur's bag and eventually found his driver's license where Clone Riggy stole the name Preston and went with it calling himself " THE GREAT AND MIGHTY PRESTON!! "

Also sorry i have to highlight Preston/Clone Riggy's name in purple. There's no option to make the text dark blue ;-;

Anyways now with that explanation out of the way I'm here to explain why Preston/Clone Riggy is breedable and sexy.

He can breed. In a Danno short about if you can be invisible, Riggy was about to pull his pants down to demonstrate that you might have to be naked to be invisible. Luckily (or unluckily) Danno told him to NOT do that, Which basically says that Riggy might have a... Yknow. And then after that Riggy says " What? There was already Riggy rule 34! " ( i would've called this fanservice but i changed my mind ) so since Preston/Clone Riggy is a clone of Riggy then there's chance he has one. Since Danno confirmed Preston/Clone Riggy is canonically not anything other than a male so uhh that's something. But hey atleast he can insert something in me-

2. He's a fucking Tumblr sexyman.

"A male fictional character (often conventionally unattractive or non-human) with a particularly devoted fanbase on Tumblr." - Wikitonary.

He's unattractive and nonhuman. DUDE THATS HIM!!!

Idk about the fanbase part but yeah its him

Not to mention the other sexyman traits like being an antagonist, a perpetual smiler, glitches, dominating, a tsundere, has a theme song, powerful, HES A TUMBLR SEXYMAN. And that proves he's hot

Idk what else to say so ill just end this post with uhh

Ok guys end of the post you an scroll now!! :3

#youtube shorts #silly #sillyposting #weird post #shorts wars #clone riggy #youtube shorts arg #riggy the runkey #danno cal drawings #femboys #joke post #MAKE THIS MAN THE NEXT TUMBLR SEXYMAN #PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU

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thatbanditqueen · 10 months

Text

Basic Training Chapter 5

Summary: Bess has plans to spend the evening having a picnic dinner with Elvis on post, and tries to juggle her family and keeping her relationship with Elvis a secret as her father presses her about her future.

Warnings: Some very heavy petting, dry humping, female orgasm (gasp), and discussions of mental illness, the Holocaust and Cold War operations. And all the usual typos.

WC: 6K

A (very very late) response to the prompt "Hey, quit splashin' me."

Many thanks to my lovely sister wives @whositmcwhatsit, @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @ellie-24 who helped me write this.

If you need to catch up, you can read the previous chapters of this fic about Elvis at Fort Hood in 1958 here

Notes:

This one got more into Bess family life, but it won't always be this top heavy in the future.

Maus and spatz are german terms of endearment. Illsa is a German nickname for Elizabeth.

Schatzeleh, bubeleh, mamaleh, these are all Yiddish terms of endearment. The Yiddish phrase "shayna maidel" means beautiful girl.

Deutsch ist die Muttersprache - German is the mother tongue.

INCOMS - abbreviation for Army Intelligence

The USIA was really a wacky Cold War PR agency for the U.S. government that set up a radio system to blast US music and news into other countries, and promote art and performers and entertainers around the world, along with other stiff. What every fic needs, more Cold War history ;)

Wednesday, April 9, 1958

Schwartz Residence, Killeen TX

6:45 a.m.

Bess hovered over her sister’s shoulder and grabbed a piece of toast off her plate, scooping up some scrambled eggs and chewing as she dodged Kay’s swats to pour a cup of coffee.

“Curlers again? Jeeze, Bess, that’s the third day in a row you’ve worn curlers to sleep.”

Bess hit the back of her sister’s head with her elbow.

Their father’s eyes did not leave his newspaper as Kay yelped and Bess stuck her tongue out.

“Elizabeth, you are not a nomad. Sit and eat.”

“I gotta finish getting ready, Papa.”

“Is there anything special going on today, maus?” Her father raised his eyebrows as Kay giggled.

“Or maybe someone speci - ouch!” Kay got a pinch at her back.

“Oh, no, nothing special, just wanted to look nice, I told Emily we’d go shopping after work today, Papa.”

Papa folded his newspaper, crisping the edges at Bess' expectant eyes.

“Well?”

Kay grinned into her juice.

“I was just wondering if it was ok to take my own car in again, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Ja, fine. Do you anticipate driving separately all week?”

Bess nodded, slowly, swallowing more coffee as her father’s eyes went from one daughter to the other.

“Hmm, sure are getting dolled up to go shopping with Emily OWfff.”

Kay got another swift pinch to her shoulder before Bess washed out her coffee cup and left to fix her hair. Just as she got to the kitchen door, she heard the piano in the living room and looked back at her father.

“Did Mama wake up and go right back to work on the piano?”

“No.” Her Papa’s face went back to the newspaper.

Kay’s eyes met Bess’. “She’s been in there all night.”

“All night?”

Papa calmly set down his paper. “Your mother is fine, you know how she is. Once she starts a project, she becomes very focused. You both would benefit from such discipline. You just need to let her get it out of her system.”

Bess shook her head and ran to the living room to find her mother at the upright piano, hair wild as she wiped sweat from her brow. Mama had been hunched over sorting through a pile of tuning instruments, but her face lit up with excited energy at Bess.

“Oh Bessie, you’re doing your hair fancy again today, huh? Oh my sweet shayna maidel. Brains and beauty.” Mama stroked Bess’ cheek, then went back to hitting a key on the piano. “Ughh, hear that? Can’t get the D flat right.”

Bess tugged on her mothers house dress, the same one she had been wearing yesterday.

“C’mon, Mama, it will be easier if you rest the ole noggin, come back after you get some sleep.”

Her mother brushed off her hand.

“No, Bess, can’t you hear it? It’s all gooey, everything is gooey, when it should be tight. I can’t possible leave the plunkers gooey, it makes the whole room go orange, bubeleh.”

Bess rubbed her mother’s shoulders as she leaned her chin into Mama’s neck.

“You know the bedroom upstairs is all light and yellow, Mama, it will help you center yourself.”

Mama shook her head, and Bess sighed as she returned to the kitchen and mixed some of the thalidomide barbiturates hidden above the spice cabinet into a glass of milk.

Kay paused washing the dishes.

“Papa left.”

“Of course he did. A one star General who strikes fear into the Army Intelligence training officers, but won’t deal with his own wife.”

“That is not fair, Bess, Mama has been better since the treatment. Papa said she was great on the trip, she just needs to get back to routine and get the jitters out of her system.”

“Jitters, jitters is bupkis and you know it. Did you know Aunt Rachel came down to babysit Mama when they were in D.C.?"

Bess sighed and finished stirring the milk, and was finally able to coax Mama upstairs where she undressed her and tucked her into bed with a kiss.

“Oh Bessie, you have a yellow halo around your head schatzeleh, good things await you today, my pretty girl. “

“Thanks mamaleh, get some sleep.”

The black pumps were the last thing Bess slipped on before heading off to work, dropping Kay at school on the way. It was not far to Killeen High School, an easy 10 minute walk for Kay in her saddle shoes, but Bess wanted to talk with her.

“Can you come straight home after school? Keep an eye on Mama, maybe try to get her some sun gardening or going for a walk.

Kay nodded, tightening the scarf around her ponytail, “Sure Bess, she’s ok. I 'm telling you, she just needs rest after goin’ to DC and New York for two weeks.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

A car of high school boys pulled up next to them, their radio blasted as they made their way to the student parking lot. The boys looked over, whistling and laughing at Bess and Kay.

“Ugh, high school boys.” Kay moaned, fluffing her hair.

“Speaking of which, my dear sister. I thought we had a deal, ixnay on the elvisay or I’ll spill the beans on how often you sneak out with Dickey and tell Papa and Mama you’re spending the night at Gloria’s.”

“Aww, heck, Bess, you know I am not doing anything wrong, not since you scared me half to death about getting pregnant and having to get a back alley abortion.”

“I wasn't trying to scare you, Kay. I just want to make sure you take precautions. And that you understand it, are sure about it, ya know, when you are ready. Sex isn’t bad,it can just have consequences. You know you can always talk to me about that stuff.”

Kay rolled her eyes and hit Bess before getting out of the car.

******************************************************************

5:15 p.m. Fort Hood Front Office

“She’s cooking brisket, and singing along with the radio.”

Bess held the phone receiver to her ear, she could hear her mother’s voice in the background along with Doris Day's. Guilt had been tugging at her heartstrings all afternoon, telling her what a selfish daughter she was to make plans with Elvis instead of going home to check on her mother. She kept listening to her sister talk as Dori come out of her father’s office and waved the CO on, telling him to bring the car around front.

“You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yes, Bess, jeeze, go already. Have fun with Emily.” Bess grimaced momentarily at Kay’s sarcasm then remembered she was trying to smile back at Dori.

Mabel was typing along, making no sign that she registered any human life in the office. Hanging up the phone, Bess began to cover her type writer.

“So y’all really don’t think I should go walk my lil ole self round about his barracks?”

The clacks from Mabel’s typewriter paused as she exhaled a deep huff of smoke, meeting Bess’s eyes for a split second before returning to her paperwork.

“Uh, no, Dori, you don’t want to be another girl chasing after Elvis Presley.”

Bess mused that quite a few members of Fort Hood’s female workforce seemed to have business near the 37th’s barracks lately. She avoided Mabel’s stoic, knowing stare as she explained that she had not seen Elvis since the night of the dance.

“He is a world famous entertainer, Doreen, adjusting to the first phase of basic training, the hardest phase. Women are probably the last thing on his mind.”

This elicited an eyebrow raise from Mabel behind Dori’s back, as the blonde conceded with a sigh that Bess was probably right and skulked out of the Command’s Front Office, flinging her handbag around in disappointment.

“The most eligible Southern bachelor in the world is at my base, even takes me on a date, but has to live in a shack with forty other men and no phone while doing drills all day.” She stomped her foot. “Jus’ isn’t fair.”

Bess stopped watching Dori walk down the hallway and pulled out her compact, giving her lipstick one last check.

“I am just glad the Executive Officer has three male children.”

“Mabel, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Like hell you don’t, that boy is gonna start world war three at this command, getting involved with two generals’ daughters. And, by the way, you need to come up with a better cover, one that doesn’t involve anyone on post.”

Flicking her cigarette, Mabel looked Bess directly in the eyes.

“General Schwartz was asking me about Emily in the switchboard office while you were at lunch.”

Bess swallowed, putting her compact away and rolling her feet back into her heels.

“Huh. Maybe I don’t give the old man enough credit?”

Mabel’s eyes were back on her typewriter. “You should go, before your father returns from his meeting and finds what is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairwell.”

Bess hesitated before she left. “I, um, I mean it, thanks, you know, for -”

“Git already, before I beat you down there and steal him for myself.”

Bess smiled as she tried very very hard to walk with calm composure down the hall and into the back stairs. Just the thought of Elvis’ touch made her tingle and Bess had to use her hands to try and keep her dress from blowing up as she danced down the stairs, heels clicking like Ginger Rogers. Heart in her throat, she nearly did a two-step on the landing mid-flight when she caught sight of a light green cap below. The cap tilted slightly, revealing lips, lips that curled into a welcome reprieve as Bess bounded down to meet him. The beat of her heart matched the sound of her breath as she launched herself onto Elvis’ mouth. He was a cushion and Bess threw herself into him unabashedly, feeling her body lift off the ground as Elvis twirled her around. It was exhilarating.

His light chuckle tickled her forehead and hands pulled her forward. “Happy to see me?”

“I guess.” Bess murmured into his clavicle. “You think too highly of yourself, Tupelo, just happy to be done with work, mostly. I actually forgot you were meeting me.”

He pulled her chin up and Bess heard her voice falter as his eyes melted her nervous system into a giddy mess.

“That why you are runnin' down these stairs like ya got a burr in ya saddle? Maybe I should check.”

His voice became slower as his hands moved from her waist to her bottom, pulling on her skirt as if to inspect it.

“Leave my saddle be, dirty boy.”

Bess cheeks flushed red swatting off Elvis’ hands and he grinned, fingers returning to their deliberate pace at her waist. Just their slow movement heated her belly, a sensation intensified by the warm air from Elvis nostrils as he nudged her eyelid. Bess was happy to see him, happy to have his arms around her, happy to have his fingers pushing the fabric of her dress back and forth over her skin. Those insistent, needy thumbs took her away from all her turmoil and into the comfort of his arms.

“So you aren't excited to see me? Go on then, tell me, tell me why you got ya hair all done up and ya lips all painted up, huh? Meeting someone else?”

Bess traced the top of his lip with her index finger, she was so close to him she could smell the faint hints of cologne, sweat and gun powder on his neck.

“I’m not meeting anyone else.” She looked up, not sure how she was summoning the strength to form words. “I just want to be here. With you.”

“Me too baby, me too.” He ran his finger over her nose. “Got lucky, boy, did I get lucky, that night I caught you stealing - ”

“ - reallocating Army resources.”

“Imma reallocate some Army resources.” He kissed her forehead, right between her eyebrows. “Right here.” She closed her eyes at the way his arms tightened around her. “Right now. For important morale operations.”

Bess’ nodded her forehead sideways into his nose and let her hands roll up his shoulders, the heat between them buzzed up her body. She sucked her bottom lip and the sound of air clicking from her mouth seemed louder in the still concrete stairwell. Bess kissed him gently at first and then with her entire being, grinding up as he thrust back into her and his hands moved to cup her face while his hips becoming sharper and more desperate. A moan escaped her mouth and Elvis stepped back, chuckling as he wiped the lipstick from his mouth.

“Let’s get out of here, huh?” Bess murmured, grasping at his waist to steady herself.

Bess tripped into him as they walked to her car, her head rotating from side-to-side, wondering if any one saw them and could tell how intimately Elvis gripped her hand. He didn’t seem to care, popping open her car door and sliding across the leather as if it were his own. His fingers were instantly over her shoulder, always pursuing physical contact, and he whistled at basket of food on the back seat.

“Watcha cook up for me, lil girl?”

“Um, just, ya, uh know, meatloaf sandwiches, potato salad, some pop.”

“Mmhmm, sounds real good, yessir boberino, real good.” Elvis growled and nibbled into Bess’ shoulder and she suddenly found driving very challenging.

Her struggle to hold the steering wheel only got worse as Elvis mumbled into her cheek while his fingers smoothed the small of her back. She tried, unsuccessfully, to elbow him away as he smirked at her breathy response. It was very clear to Bess that Elvis knew exactly what his fingers did to her as she drove them to a park at the back of Fort Hood’s residential area. Elvis lips trailed up and down her cheek in a way that made Bess not want to get out of the car, made her forget that she was hungry, made her forget her own name. Grinning, he pulled back and pinched her side.

“Les eat, I’m so hooonnngry I could eat the north bound end of a south bound polecat.”

Elvis carried the basket of food with one hand, the other in Bess’ as she led them to a picnic table near a very small man made pond. She clucked at him to help even out the table cloth, and he grinned at the way Bess set out plates, cups and food methodically. Elvis caught her wrist as she moved to sit across from him, and guided her on to his lap.

“Where you goin’ baby? Don’t want you to get any splinters in that fine caboose.”

“Ha, ha, ha. How chivalrous.”

Bess pushed a spoon of potato salad into his mouth to shut him up as she set out the sandwiches for them, and opened the red cream soda with a bottle opener. Elvis took his pop, sucking it down.

“Just for future reference darlin, I like Pepsi.”

Bess grabbed the drink out of his hand with a playful sniff.

“This is the best cream soda this side of Little Rock, you can use it to make punch, jello, dye dresses red and clean your carburetor. And if you don’t like it, you can get your own drinks.”

Elvis pulled it back, stuffing meatloaf sandwich in his mouth before talking through his chews and taking another swig.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, now, no need to get sore.” He slapped her bottom, making her bounce up as she chewed some sandwich. “Jus’ sayin’ I like Pepsi best. ‘Sides, Dori said you were from New York, how come -” He paused to take another gulp, “How come you like this local fizz so much?”

Bess took the bottle of Big Red from him, letting her mouth linger down and back up over the top as she sipped it, enjoying the way he raised his eyebrows while he chewed.

“Well, Private, I was born in New York. But I have lived in Killeen, Texas on and off since I was five years old. Papa was trained here before the war, and then we went back to Brooklyn while he was in London and then Germany - did your daddy fight?”

Elvis shook his head but offered no explanation, and Bess thought she saw a flicker of disdain or anger in his eyes for a split second, but it was gone. Then he pulled her closer with his right hand, holding up a sandwich to her mouth, lips apart in apt concentration as he guided the food into Bess' mouth and she giggled, swallowing it. He picked up the second bottle of pop and offered it to her as she wiped her mouth.

“Well, anyway, at first we went back and forth when Papa was overseas. We were in New York, and D.C., then he was given orders back here and they bought the house. Mama, Kay and I have stayed here whenever he got orders to go somewhere else: Heidelberg, Fort Hood, Berlin, then, you guessed it, Fort Hood, then DC, then back here. It’s been better for us to stay and go to school here.”

“So, uh, what, your daddy goes all ‘round teaching German?”

“Uh, well, yeah, mostly. Training Army officers to speak German has been a big part of his career.”

Elvis tilted his head for Bess to feed him more potato salad, his fingers otherwise occupied at her hips.

“How’d he get so interested in that?”

Bess licked the spoon they were sharing after feeding Elvis, looking across at the pond as twilight settled over the park.

“He, um, well, he actually grew up in Berlin. His parents sent him to New York in 1931 to live with his aunt and uncle.” She hesitated, scratching his collar, wondering how Elvis Presley felt about making out with Jewish girls. “You see, that was when his family’s synagogue was burned down, and they, um, started to, you know, worry.”

Elvis nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Ah, gotcha.” His hands tightened at her waist. “Ya know, this explains why Dori looked at me funny when I told her I met you outside the base Chapel.”

“Ha! Yeah, well, I could have been there picking up dates.”

“You do that often, Moo Moo?”

“Oh, yeah, good little Christian boys are my favorite.”

He bounced her on his lap and tickled her sides.

“Huh, that right? I don’t know if I like the sound a that.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I’m no good at meeting good Christian boys. Only bad ones.”

“Oh baby, you have know idea what a good boy I can be.” He drew her close for a soft kiss on her neck, and the warmth of his lips made her shiver as he talked into her nape. “I’ve been told I’m very, very, very good at bein’ a boy.”

“Ha!” She shook her head, hands clutching the back of his hair as she looked into his attentive, gleaming bright blue eyes. They made her weak. Everywhere. “Hey, you haven’t even told me how your day was, Tupelo.”

“Oh man, honey, today was a goddamn circus, and I was the lead clown, I tell ya.”

“What happened?” She played with the soft part of his ear lobe as Elvis wiped his forehead and sighed.

“Well, we had target practice for three hours today.”

“That sounds normal, it takes three hours to kill all the paper men.”

“You have idea, baby, no idea.” He looked over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one could hear him. “Well, go on ta find out I forgot to load my gun this mornin’, I was so goddamn flustered getting ready for inspection. Looked like a grade A idiot, man, standing out there front a every one.”

Bess soothed the top of Elvis’ shoulders, all the teasing lilt from a moment ago was gone from her voice as she massaged the stiff, anxiousness there.

“Boy, got me so keyed up, had ma hands in fists all day, bout nearly bust out of my uniform I as so mad at ma self.”

Bess soothed his cheek, running her hand through his hair.

“No one will remember tomorrow, I promise.”

“Huh, I bet you million dollars they all back in their barracks, writin’ home bout how they had a good laugh at Elvis Presley, the Elmer Fudd of the army.”

“I promise, if those soldiers have anyone to write home to, and that’s betting they know how to write, they aren’t wastin’ their time tellin’ their girls about the most handsome stud in America.”

Elvis looked up.

“Most handsome, what was that, baby, stud?”

“Ugh, stop, I was just tryin’ to cheer you up.”

Bess jumped up, and started packing up the picnic, and Elvis was instantly behind her, arms tugging at her was as she popped the last spoon of potato salad greedily in her mouth. He gave her a big, sloppy kiss, then let go, distracted by the water, he wondering down to the edge of the pond where he began skipping stones. She finished folding the table cloth and followed him down to the water, squatting beside him as she selected another rock and handed it to him.

“Sorry excuse for a lake, isn’t it.” Bess said, watching as Elvis aimed the flat stone across the small body of water.

“You better take that back, Moo Moo, you’re hurtin’ this poor lil baby pond’s feelins’” Elvis bent down and threw some water at Bess’ face.

“Hey,” Bess pushed him lightly, then stood up, backing away at the mischievous look in his eyes. “Quit splashin' me! You, you rock n’ roll hoodlum!”

Elvis grinned and cupped his hand full of water, throwing it at her as she backed away.

“Ohh baby, thems fighting words, better watch out!”

Bess shrieked and ran back up to the picnic table, circling around it as Elvis chased her, matching as she changed directions. Their laughter and panting filled the air until he caught her, running his dirty pond fingers through her hair with gusto as she made a face while he slapped her on the butt. Elvis quelled her protests with a kiss and brought her into his side and grabbed the food basket with his other hand. They walked back to the car sweaty and out of breath like two giddy teenagers.

“Any lakes round here?”

Bess settled back into the car and smoothed her dress down while Elvis’ hands did their best to ruffle it back up, starting with the area over her right knee.

“There’s a reservoir, Lake Belton, bout 30 minutes away. You can go swimming, boating, horseback riding. Why?”

“This weekend phase 1 is over and I can start going off post on the weekend. Planning to see my friend Lamar, maybe some more of my guys, and I wanna take them somewhere fun Sunday. Somewheres maybe like this Lake.”

Bess tried to contain her disappointment that Elvis’ first thought wasn’t to spend the time with her. But she reminded herself that they weren’t serious, they were having a fling and besides, he saw her everyday. He sensed her mood change anyway as she sat up stiff and straight to start the car, and his hand became more attentive to her knee.

“I want you there, Bess, you’re coming out with me this weekend. Right after drills end at 1700 hours Saturday.”

“When does your friend get to town?”

“He’s already here. Lamar, he grumbles and fusses, but he is loyal and true. From Texas, too.”

“Where’s he staying?”

“At the Star Motel.” Elvis looked over at Bess, then down at where his long, thin fingers were on the inside of her knee, then back up to her eyes. “He, uh, he went and got a few a rooms so we can have a party Saturday night.” His voice became softer as he murmured. “Reckon it would be nice to have some time, just to be alone with with you, Bessie baby. Somewhere that ain’t a picnic bench. Or a car. Somewhere we could be alone and just talk.”

Bess parked behind the armory buildings near Elvis' barracks and turned to him, blushing.

“Um, yes, I guess I would like that too. To be able to just be somewhere, just talk.”

A wave of shyness suddenly overwhelmed Bess as she thought about being alone in a motel room with Elvis. What she thought he might really be asking her. She wasn’t sure how far she wanted to go with him this soon, though she could feel desire pulsing up through her rib cage and knew that if Elvis even looked at her sideways she would throw all abandon out of the window. But she had the impression, from just the few weeks she had known him, that Elvis was more old fashioned then she would have thought. She wasn’t sure where his boundary was, as far as respecting girls who went to bed with him. But his invitation definitely seemed like a proposition and the prospect of sleeping with him was at once exciting and terrifying.

Bess began to fiddle with her hands where they lay in her lap and Elvis picked up her left hand, bringing it to his cheek and kissing her palm delicately.

“Hey there, lil Moo Moo, you’re so pretty. How’d I catch the prettiest lil moo cow in the field, hmmm?”

The words rumbled out of Elvis mouth in a low babyish voice and his eyelids drooped down in time with his bottom lip. Bess’ chest tightened, and it felt like the world tilted sides when she pulled him in and he kissed her down into the leather seat. They pawed at each other there, exploring how their noses fit together as their tongues played tug of war for control. It sent a jolt straight to Bess’ core when she felt his excitement stiffen against her thigh and she smiled into his goofy bedroom eyes.

“Hey, wait, are you calling me a cow, Elvis Presley?”

Elvis shook his head, his face focused on where his right fingers brushed over her breast, savoring Bess’ shiver, as his knuckles trailed back down over the hills and valleys of her skirt. Her blood rushed between her legs and she took a deep breath.

His fingers were back at her bosom, setting her skin on aflame with the way his finger tips trailed back and forth circling her breast.

“Mmmmhmm, not jus any cow, baby, you the prettiest little milk cow, bet you have the sweetest.” He bite his lip as he circled the cloth around her nipple again. “Cream.”

Bess exhaled out with a gasp, curling her left fingers at his wrist as he spoke.

“Makin' me want dessert.”

Elvis’ hand stayed at her side where she held it, his fingers brushing against her dress, but it was his eyes that knocked the wind from her lungs as they moved downward to settle on the apex between her legs. Elvis bit his lips and Bess felt a desperate flame tingle out from her core. No one had ever done what he was hinting at, and it scared her. Suddenly she didn’t consider herself as experienced as she had before. She had slept with what, twenty men? And no one had ever kissed her there. That was something she needed to prepare for, perhaps double the talcum powder she applied. Coughing, Bess slide out from him to sit upright and straighten her dress. Elvis’ hands were back on her hips, pulling her over to straddle his lap.

“You know, Moo Moo, I’d never do nothin’ you don wanna.”

Elvis kissed her neck as she nodded.

“I bet you taste sweet, though.”

Bess swatted him playfully, then gripped his shoulder as he nibbled her ear. Playtime was over. A feverish yearning took over and she met his hips as they rocked up into her. Bess’ heart was racing, Elvis slow and deliberate movements made him different from any man she had ever been with. He halted mid thrust to savor the moment, and his eyes looked deep into hers with a longing and and an eagerness to please. They were an invitation and a command that he followed with his fingers, trailing them softly over the curve of her breasts. She could feel his cock twitch when he noticed her shudder, or felt her nipples harden, and she knew what made Elvis different. Her pleasure turned him on.

So she chased it, moving in tandem to the rhythm of his thighs while she pushed her lips on top of his, feeling his tongue meet hers once more. She felt his bulge and sought the friction of it between her legs. His movements became more urgent, and Bess’ grasped for anything she could find to hold on to as the car filled with sound of heaving, gulping, loud moans. Her orgasm erupted suddenly with a litany of “oh Gods,” and Elvis thumbs stroked her cheeks as he shushed the fear and hesitancy from her.

“I gotcha, I gotcha, sshhhhh baby, don worry. Jus ride it out. That’s a good lil girl.”

Bess’ chest heaved up as she remembered how to breathe. This was the most intimate experience she had ever had, and all of her clothes were still on. She half chuckled as she steadied herself, meeting Elvis triumphant, satisfied eyes.

“Wow.”

“You ok, honey? Make me think you ain’t never tussled with a boy before.”

“Not like that.”

His mouth curled into a big crooked grin, and she laughed up into the ceiling.

“Huh, well, that’s true, Bess, and you won’t never find someone like me again, neither. I got moves you ain't never seen, honey." He smirked. "Stick with me, I told you, I’m a very good boy.”

“Good at being bad.”

Laughing, she shifted and noticed his erection still lingered in his pants and so she moved her hand to rub over it but he stilled her.

“Don’t you want me to take care of you, Tupelo?” She kissed his cheek, lips moving down his neck. “ Make you feel good? I - I can, you know -”

Elvis patted her hand back into her lap and kissed the words out of her mouth.

“You were perfect tonight, Bess, perfect. But I jus as soon keep a lid on it. You don’t make it easy, though, baby, been makin’ me crazy all night, just walking round and sittin’ on me with all that equipment in your undercarriage.”

“Guess I know one pistol you have no trouble loading.”

Elvis tilted his neck back, laughing as he squeezed her waist as they made their goodbyes over a push and pull of kisses for the next fifteen minutes.

****************************************************************

Schwartz Residence, Killeen TX

9:30 p.m.

The moon followed Bess in the clear night sky as she left post, still feeling Elvis’ hands all over her, hearing his laughter in her ears. She was giddy from the blissful release she had found on his lap, it had washed away all the tension she' 'd had carrying with her through the day. Hurrying up the stairs to her house, Bess stumbled upon her mother in the kitchen making camomile tea.The creases at the corners of Mama’s large brown eyes pinched together in a big smile.

“Oh Bessie Bess, my baby, you’re home late. Want some sleepy time tea, my shayna maidel?”

Bess strode over and put her arms around her mother’s back, leaning on her shoulder as her mother poured the kettle into the teapot, her chest filled with affection.

“Sure Mamaleh, I’d love some.”

Papa’s voice rang out from his office, so she kissed her mother’s cheek and promised to be right back.

“Aw, Elizabeth, how was your day shopping with, who, Emily, was it?”

Bess leaned against the doorway of his office, glad her father was at least making the pretense of settling down for the night in his dressing gown and pajamas. A pipe was in his hand as he read over some paperwork.

“Good, Papa, thanks for asking.”

“Gut, gut, ja.” He pushed his glasses up, and looked over his desk at his daughter, taking in her slightly disheveled hair, rumpled dress and newly applied lipstick below flushed cheeks. “You know, I thought your mother made two meatloaves for supper last night.”

“Oh, well, I took some for lunch today, Papa. I didn’t know you wanted it.”

“No, ja, I was just looking for a snack earlier, but no bother, no bother.” He put his papers down. “Are you still thinking of law school, because I saw General Brandon when we were in D.C.”

“I don’t want to go do propaganda for the U.S. government, Papa.”

“Yes, well, it’s not propaganda, spatz, it’s goodwill initiatives. This war is more about minds than mines, ja? Brandon’s information program is just making sure other countries have the opportunity to experience American art and culture. Someone with your background and expertise in foreign affairs, you’d be a good fit for a post open this fall. And they want women, smart, focused, attractive women like you. You would be perfect for this job.”

Bess tapped her fingers over her belt, she had not been thinking about her research project at all, or her law school applications for that matter. No, her head had been elsewhere, and she felt pangs of shame and guilt as she considered what her father was bringing up. Her future. Specifically, he was back at it trying to convince her to work for one of the newer programs in D.C. that his colleague in Army Intelligence had founded: the United States Information Agency. Its mission was officially “public diplomacy” overseas, but Bess knew it was essentially a PR agency for the United States.

“Is it in the Berlin office?”

“Ack, Illsa, Berlin is a coveted office, you have to work your way up to it. No. Helsinki.”

“I don’t even speak Finnish, or Swedish, and -”

“It is right there at the lion’s mouth, Ilsa, there’s a lot of action in Helsinki. All the spies from Moscow are coming through it. And the goodwill tours behind the Iron Curtain go off from there. It would be, what, two years? A stepping stone to Berlin maybe? Besides, Deutsch ist die Muttersprache, you’d pick up Swedish and Finnish like that.” Papa snapped his fingers.

“Mmmhmm. Well, you got my attention. But what about Mama?” Bess fingers clenched in a fist. “She seems like she is backsliding.”

“She doesn’t do well when her routine is disrupted, you know that. She will be fine, give her a few days to settle.” Papa sucked on his pipe, and the sweet smell of tobacco reached Bess’ nose. “And, well, you know I expect orders to INCOMS headquarters any day. That will be my last post before retirement, and I promised Mama New York after that. In the meantime, your Aunt Rachel wants to come and live with us in D.C.”

“What about Kay? I thought she wanted to go to Baylor.”

Papa’s elbow banged down on his desk, as he rearranged his paperweights, then he kept talking as he got up and put a jazz record on.

“Katharina applied to Georgetown, Radcliffe, Smith and many, many other colleges, she will be fine. She would also be fine at Baylor if she is determined to follow her silly friends there.”

Bess nodded, thinking of the girls in Kay’s high school class whose mothers had been in Baylor’s sororities, and how they had been giggling about life together next year. She thought of her own decision to stay in Texas for college, at the time she had wanted to follow her friends to a big school in a big city like Austin. She turned on her heel to head back to the kitchen and Mama’s camomile tea, muttering into the hallway in from to her. “Helsinki, huh?”

Her father’s voice followed her, his eyes narrowed at the smudges of lipstick Elvis had kissed into the back of Bess’ neck.

“Just think about, ja? You have so much potential, maus. I hate to see you loose sight of your goals.”

**************************************************************

Click here to read Chapter Six: Guided Missiles

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echo-rambles · 7 months

Text

love don't know how to rest

words: 2,679 summary: a quick phone call with your boyfriend chan turns into a mini vent session. tags: swearing, established relationship, long distance relationship, minor argument, fluff, making up note: this started off as me clowning on chan's new hair because as much as I love him I was not a fan of it when I initially saw it. somehow it turned into a weird little vent thing about missing someone and wishing they'd take better care of themselves. (title from how to rest by the crane wives)

-o0o-

“Hey baby.” You immediately greet, answering your phone and then propping it up so your hands are free.

Chan's face takes up the majority of the screen, and you get a close up of his forehead before he also seems to settle his phone somewhere. He hums in acknowledgment.

You know for a fact he’s not trying to be rude, so you don’t worry too much about his non-greeting. Quickly looking at the time and doing the math, you speak up again. “Good morning. Have you just woken up?” It would be about 8am in Korea right now.

“Hi- sorry I meant to say hi when you did.” It’s ok, you mumble, moving about the kitchen as you continue to make yourself dinner. Chan had messaged you only a few minutes ago, asking if you were busy and if he could call through. It wasn’t a very complicated dinner, mostly just heating up leftovers on the stove, so of course you told him to call. “I’ve been up since… six? Five maybe.”

“Chan.” You chastise gently. Sending him a little look from your spot at the stove. He ducks his head, already giving you one of his smiles that spell an apology.

“I know. I just- my brain hasn’t been able to shut off. I’m making the most of it until I end up crashing in the middle of the day.”

“Light schedule?” You ask, already assuming the answer since otherwise he wouldn’t be able to so readily nap mid day. Chan makes a little agreeable noise. “That's good. And hey, if you don’t sleep at some point I can always ask Seungmin to smother you until you pass out. Forced nap time.”

“That’s so fucked up.” But it gets him to chuckle, and that’s really what matters. “He’d do it too.”

“Of course he would; I asked. Hey, nice hat by the way.” You lean close to your phone, squinting at the beanie he’s wearing.

It makes Chan groan and push the beanie over his eyes for a brief second. “I'm trying to hide my hair, since someone hates it.”

“I never said I hate it!”

“…you said it reminded you of straw.”

Ok, so maybe you absolutely said something like that when you first saw his hair. It sort of just tumbled out of your mouth. “Because they bleached it all wrong! They killed your hair, Christopher. I was shocked, and distraught.”

Chan shifts his beanie around, laying his hand flat on his head but never once taking it off. “I thought it would’ve come out better. I’ve been wanting to dye it-”

“I know, baby.” The teasing slips away from your tone, replaced by something more gentle and understanding. “But you gotta let your hair heal first before you fuck with it. Maybe let it grow out and dye it dark the next time you can? And then, once it’s no longer damaged as hell, you can do something fun. Like pink?”

Chan’s nodding along to your words, clearly watching you shut off the stove and shove all of your food into a bowl. He smiles at your suggestion. “One day you’ll get your pink hair dreams.”

“We can match! It'd be so much fun. I think the world needs Pink Chan more than ever, really.”

He hums instead of playing into the banter, hand still on his head, and you know that no matter how much you apologize for your initial reaction or how many jokes you make, the thought that he did something you don’t like is going to eat him up. Sighing, you bring the phone close to your face.

“I think you look gorgeous no matter what, you know that right? I’ll tell you every single day until you believe me. Even with straw hair.” You lower your voice, trying to sound as solemn and as serious as you can. “Even if you were bald.”

“Bald?” His face goes all scrunched as he laughs, tipping his head out of frame and pressing a hand over his eyes.

“Yeah. Shave it all off. Start from scratch.” You bring the phone and your bowl over to the couch, settling in. “I’m sure there’d be girls who would go crazy for the shaved look.”

“Should I be worried that you’re making sure I look good for other girls?”

“Hey, listen, this is your job, and part of my job as the world's greatest girlfriend is to make sure you’re marketable to your audience.”

He’s still smiling, all big and soft and it loosens the knot of guilt in your chest.

After a few minutes of the both of you falling silent, you eating and Chan just watching you, you finally speak up again. “I’m sorry for saying that stuff about your hair. I didn’t mean to sound so… mean.”

“I know. I appreciate the apology though.”

“I just worry. Which is a shit excuse but- I don’t want them ruining your hair. I need you to take care of yourself, because I’m not there to do it!”

“I know-”

“You take care of the boys and I take care of you because you refuse to let them do it; that’s always been the deal, but I’m not there so now no one is taking care of you-”

“Love,” he cuts you off. Voice firm and commanding. “It’s just hair.” It’s your turn to mumble out an I know. “It’ll grow back. It can be fixed. I’m ok.”

“I just wish I was there.”

The silence creeps in again, and your food is growing cold. Every day you miss him, and the feeling just continues to grow and grow and you’re so afraid that it’ll get so big that soon you won’t have room for anything else. You need him to be ok, because if he’s not then… you’re not really sure what you’d do.

“We take care of each other, yeah?” Chan says, making you snap your attention back to your screen. He must have pulled his phone closer to his face, and if this were any other moment you’d take the opportunity to snap a picture of the angle he chose, but since you feel all cold and serious in the pit of your stomach you instead just nod at his words.

“Yeah-”

“I don’t want you to ever feel like this is a one way street. It’s not your job to take care of me.”

“I definitely don’t get paid enough for it to be a job.” The pit isn’t too cold or serious for you to deny yourself mumbling out a little quip.

“We choose to look out for each other, yeah? I take care of you too. Don’t forget that.” Your little comment makes him smile. Just a tick of his mouth, but his whole face softens and you wish you could touch him right now.

You want to be in his arms. Face pressed to his neck, where you can feel his pulse against the highest point of your cheek and his hands spread across your back and anchoring you. Long distance sucks ass.

“I won’t. But sometimes-” You stop yourself, chew at your bottom lip and aggressively spear your food with your fork. “I worry that you’re so busy taking care of everyone else that sometimes you forget about yourself.”

“I’m guessing this has gone way beyond your feelings about my hair.” Chan tries to joke, but there’s still that underlying tone of his. The special one that only he can really get. It works it’s way under your skin.

For a brief moment you think about leaving it there. Changing the subject. This was meant to be a relaxing phone call during a moment Chan had to breathe. He has a break and he chose to call you and all of a sudden you're just sort of dumping out all of these thoughts onto him over room temperature leftovers.

But then you remind yourself that this is Chan. He’ll know if you’re trying to bottle something away. He always does. You joke that you know him, that he’s like an open book to you. This isn’t a one way street. He knows you just as well.

Fuck it. Rip the band-aid off.

“You look stressed. Overworked. Like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Oh wow, ok. Straight to the point.”

“The only reason I know you’ve been eating is because Lino and Bin would probably force feed you before you ever went hungry. You just look exhausted and I know this is your job- I know you signed up for this. But it still breaks my heart sometimes when I can see you starting to strain under the pressure.”

“I’m- I’m doing fine. It’s hard, yeah, but-”

“It’s worth it.” You finish his sentence, already knowing what he’s going to say because he always says the same thing. “I know. Why do you think it kills me that I can’t fucking be there? Because you work yourself to the bone and there’s no one around that’s willing to pull you away and force you to actually take care of yourself. The boys- I know they try, but they still see you as their leader. As their big brother. The things I do, the way I argue with you? No way they’d be willing to go that far. And I’m not trying to paint myself as this ultra special person but- jesus Chris, you can’t tell me that if, I don’t know; Felix tried to speak to you the way I do, you wouldn’t get upset.”

Chan doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are big and liquid and he’s listening to every single word out of your mouth. When you say his name, directly ask him a question, he’s blinking. Thinking about it. “No, you’re right.”

Finally, you place your bowl on the coffee table, feeling like you need to get up and move or else you’ll probably start crying or something equally as embarrassing. God, it’s like all of these pent up emotions have just decided to spill out. Things you didn’t even realize you were upset about until now.

“Your hair honestly means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It’s hair, like you said. But it was something for me to tease you about- something small that I was upset about that I could actually comment on, when really all I’ve wanted to do these last few weeks is scream at you to slow the fuck down. No- I know what you’re going to say and I’m not talking about the company schedules. That’s your job. I’m talking about all of the extra hours I know you’re pulling because nothing feels perfect enough. All of those hours where you’re meant to be relaxing but instead you just work more because you feel like if you stop you’ll stagnate.”

Leaning away from his phone, Chan takes a deep breath. Puffs out his cheeks for a moment before releasing it all and then dragging both hands over his face. The beanie gets dislodged, and you see a shock of pastel yelloworange. It’s not even that bad. It looks cute on him. But it felt like some weird shock to your system when he showed it to you and you could tell he was unhappy with it.

“What do you want me to say? It seems like you’ve covered all of the bases.”

“I want-” You huff in frustration. “I don’t want you to say what you think I want to hear, ok? Never. We don’t do that to each other. I just want-” Again, you cut yourself off, not actually sure what you want. Not sure what the entire fucking point of this little rant has been.

You take your built up tension and you make good use of it. Bringing your bowl to the kitchen and beginning to clean up the dishes while you listen to the way Chan sighs into the silence. There really isn’t anything for him to say.

You can hear the way he tries to start a sentence at least twice, and you know that he’s frustrated that he can’t fix whatever this is. But there’s nothing to fix because nothing’s broken. You’re just kind of at the end of your rope and you just want your boyfriend close. Shutting off the sink and picking up your phone, you try to give him something close to a reassuring smile.

“Listen, I think I figured out what I want.” He looks at you, jaw working and eyes shining and you want to take his face in your hands and kiss him stupid. But you can’t have that, not right now. So you’ll have to settle with second best. “We take care of each other, yeah, absolutely, but that means you have to take care of yourself when I’m not around to do it. Because I’m thousands of miles away. I know it’s a big ask but can you please do that… for me?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can do that. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“Baby, I don’t need an apology. I just want you to be healthy.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching the way his eyes flick down and away from his phone before skipping back to you. “And also for your hair to look different.”

“Wow.” It gets him to laugh. It feels like a small victory.

“I’m nothing if not consistent. And hey, I’m sorry too. For just- whatever that was. It was unfair to unload it all when you’re probably minutes away from being busy again.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Like, I do get why you’re sorry but I’ll always choose to listen to your problems. Especially if they include me, that way we can figure out how to fix it.” His soft smile is back, crinkling his eyes and making your lungs weak.

Humming, you finally finish putting all of the dishes away. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you the most.”

“I’m pretty sure I loved you before I knew you.” Chan says, smile stretching wider as he tilts his head like an adorable fucking puppy.

You smile back, and it feels like sugar fills your mouth. “Ooh, that’s a good one.”

It’s the same little game you always play after any sort of tense conversation. Trying to one up the other and having to concede when they say something that legitimately makes you melt. It’s a reminder that things are hard but you get through it.

Hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter, you sigh. It’s a little dramatic, infusing just enough theatrics to keep the levity of the conversation. “Sometimes it really sucks that we both believe in healthy communication. I wish we were the type of couple to ignore things until the feeling goes away but really it just festers until we can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, right. We’re just too good at being a couple. It’s kind of boring actually.”

“That’s what I’m saying! You should tell me to shut the fuck up more often and I’ll… I don’t know, accuse you of cheating?”

“With who?”

“Lino?”

“Wow. Shut the fuck up!” He manages to say, between his breathless laughter.

“Yeah! See, you’re getting the hang of it already.”

Things might not be solved, like at all, but you feel a little lighter. You spend the next ten minutes joking with Chan, and things feel like they settle back to normal. You’ll probably have to have this conversation again, with less tension and frustration. But that’s for later. When he doesn’t look so tired and has a block of free time to actually talk about it in depth.

You’re going to see him, soon. You hold on to that knowledge as tightly as you can. You’ll be there, with him, able to touch him and kiss him and tell him that all you want is for him to be happy. Maybe you can have this conversation again, in person. Where you can hold hands and crawl into his lap. Soon.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #this is incredibly self indulgent #also i make some assumptions on how chan feels/how things work #anyway here's more self insert fic from me #because chan has bewitched me and caused me to write self insert for the first time ever

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