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#seriously would you please grow up
rainofaugustsith · 10 months
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So it seems like the Jedi Wars are heating up again, sigh. I have fandom sheriffs blocked instantly here. I am leaving reblogs on this open but I am warning in advance that you do not want to come at me on this post because the response will be an immediate block with no engagement. So you should really save yourself the trouble of typing it out. But I feel like some of the essential points are being missed. Namely:
Nobody has to like the Jedi.
Nobody has to approve of the Jedi.
Fans really are entitled to think the Jedi are terrible and their tactics are terrible.
All of this is about a work of fiction.
People, again, are entitled to have opinions about the media they consume.
None of that, in any way, affects people who are Jedi fans/apologists unless they actively choose to make it their problem.
Most of the time those of us who don't dig the Jedi are in our corner and don't give a damn what you're doing as long as you don't bother us.
It would be really nice if some those who liked the Jedi would remember those basic principles - but they have to Fandom Sheriff things and to loudly and aggressively let everyone else know They're Wrong. They come storming into posts, even when the OP has warned they do not want discourse, to try to engage and argue to tell people They're Wrong. They accuse people who Are Wrong!! with having sympathies for real-world fascism and Nazis, which is offensive on more levels than I can even articulate. They insist that if you don't share their opinion you must have issues with "Eastern Religion" (which is a pretty damn vague way to consider not only multiple streams of Buddhism but the many MANY other religions practiced in the "East" that have a very wide range of beliefs. As well as a big damned stretch considering it was all written by a Protestant white man from the USA. As well as the fact that we are again talking about a piece of fictional media and not a real world long established religion). Their way is apparently the only way one can possibly believe about a piece of fiction and they will aggressively butt into your conversations and posts to tell you.
All of which, at the end of the day, is a lot like evangelism/fundamentalism.
If you like the Jedi, there are ways to actively avoid those of us who do not agree with you. Filter tags. Block. Cultivate your fandom experience to surround yourself with people who have similar views. Associate with people who are mature enough to realize a mutual can disagree with their interpretation of a work of fiction without accusing them of being a Nazi. Hell, that's what we all do to avoid you whenever possible.
But grow the hell up and realize that not everyone will share your opinions on your favorites in fictional media, people with differences of opinion are entitled to them, and they are also entitled to their own fandom experience without you yipping at their heels and squeaking indignantly in their conversations.
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sleepless-crows · 11 months
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i literally have the most annoying high pitched voice that i would never reveal my face on here but you would sooner see my face than hear my voice because i just am that insecure with my voice. and i even have this habit of making it even higher, like when you impersonate someone and pitch your voice up, i have a habit of making my voice that high pitched whenever i just talk to anyone. and now we delve into all of my fears and trauma that relate to why i even have this habit in the first place—
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disownedbytiime · 9 months
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People here have been complaining about tumblr live for months and i just got it a few days ago and ngl I have to say that people are so fucking dramatic.
It doesn’t matter?? It’s not even that annoying. Or idk maybe it’s because I’m quite good at ignoring what I don’t like (like ads) but it’s not bothering me at all to have it at the top. You don’t have to click the icon either.
I do think it’s bad that all those streams are kind of porn when it’s supposed to be banned still (and it’s even in their live rules), so that’s iffy. But if you don’t want to see those, and start using it? Make content so it won’t be all porn?? Like I really don’t get the fear. I don’t even watch streams in general but isn’t that what’s popular everywhere???
“Tumblr is becoming TikTok”? That’s not even remotely true. Tumblr needs users so it can work and really? are you really such a baby that gets mad because they’re adding popular features? Features that YOU DONT HAVE TO USE. You can ignore them, like people ignored communities or like you can ignore dms or whatever.
You’re just pissbabies because tumblr added a feature you don’t like but that I’m sure people who lives of streams can take advantage of?? Why are you so scared of change???
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unhingedgirlythings · 1 month
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FUCK IT
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SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.
Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life
A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.
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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!
You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.
Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.
Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.
His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.
Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”
you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.
wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.
“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”
“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses
The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.
The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.
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godnectar · 10 days
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........pls gib me Yan dilf in skimpy outfit pls🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
・✶ 。゚☆ YANDERE DILF ☆ ; drabble
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★ note: had one of the craziest and nicest nights of this year fr, so of course I had to indulge on this ask 😫😫 ( y'all can send more requests here! )
cw: gn!reader, big man has kids, not in a relationship yet, neighbors au!, slight feminization, subby yan, kinda suggestive, and reader is a bit mean. I'm just showing my pathetic boy some affection <3
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I now seriously can't stop thinking about a yandere dilf! who would absolutely wear and do anything for his dearest darling.
it doesn't really matter what you're asking for. whether you want him in the tightest and most transparent shirt ever, or just wanna see him getting riled up while trying on some slutty shorts —maybe even a skirt if you're into that— yandere dilf! will always be up to indulging into your desires.
pictures, videos, calls; you'll receive whatever you want as long as you promise to get your hands on yandere dilf! as soon as you arrive back in the neighborhood. he would purposefully send the kids to daycare or let them have a sleepover at a friend's place, growing extremely excited and completely aware that he will be busy all night long with you at his side.
as embarrassing, humiliating, and probably pathetic as this might be for any other man, yandere dilf! thrieves and lives from your attention.
grope him, degrade him, and strip him to the sweet, matching underwear you've bought him some nights ago— he doesn't care. yandere dilf! certainly doesn't care, as he can only focus on the way your hands roam all over his body, too lost in the feeling of your lips kissing and sucking on every inch of newly uncovered skin.
you might be just using him, feeding bits of your ego, and destroying part of his in the process of satisfying your fantasies... but guess what? he's completely fine with it. he would do anything for you anytime, if at least that means having you show yandere dilf! some love.
"I swear– I swear you can do whatever you want with me... Just keep loving me tonight, yeah?"
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© godnectar 2024. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.
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slttygeto · 7 months
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to love you is to grow old with you - GOJO. S
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synopsis: satoru learns to appreciate the little things in life thanks to you.
c.w: just tooth rotting fluff, wrote this w fem! reader on mind but there are no gendered terms, physical touch being gojo’s love language, slow mornings with pookie bear himself, he deserves all the love.
note: im on a ROLL.
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to age is such a blessing and a privilege in itself, and gojo only learns how much he loves it when he notices it on you. it’s not too obvious, he never points it out to you, but over the past couple of years of dating you, he’s noticed a few changes in you, all positive.
your smile lines have gotten deeper with him around, and when he stands in front of the bathroom mirror first thing in the morning to wash his face while you were still fast asleep, he notices how his own dimples have gotten more prominent. he glances at your skin care products and although he appreciates how much you take care of yourself, he is not looking forward for the day where you start buying “anti-aging” cremes or face masks.
he wants the full experience with you, and for the very first time, gojo wants to live for a long time and is certain that he wants to die with you next to him. he doesn’t fear death, he knows it’s inevitable, but something about dying in a boring manner has always irked him—until he met you.
now he doesn’t mind if he gets sick, because he knows you will be there to take care of him. he doesn’t mind when he gets fevers because he knows you’d immediately notice based on his reddened face and would quickly but surely treat his fever and ask him to lie down and be careful, as if the man wasn’t the strongest himself.
he finds himself so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice when you start waking up from sleep and your first instinct is to look for him.
“satoru?” you call out sleepily and satoru snaps out of his thoughts and walks towards your bedroom.
“oh look who’s awake.” he grins when he sees the sleep lines on your arm and face. his hand goes towards your hair as he takes a seat at the edge of the bed and strokes it before leaning in a planting a kiss to your forehead.
“did you sleep well?” he mumbles against your forehead before planting another kiss. “any dreams of me?” another kiss to your nose. “did i look handsome in them?” and another on your cheek before going down to your neck. “were you always my pretty girl in them?” he mumbles against your pulse and you giggle at the ticklish feeling.
“satoruuu,” you whine out loud. “I just woke up,” your hand rests on top of his head when he keeps peppering kisses all over your neck.
“and plus, what were you doing in the bathroom just staring at yourself?” your fingers scratch his scalp and the man immediately melts on top of you, making you lie back down on the mattress.
“i think i changed my mind about aging,” he replies and your other hand rests on the back of his neck before sliding upwards to feel his undercut and scratch the hair there as well.
“changed your mind how?” you feel the man wrap his arms around your middle and pull you tightly towards him. he pushes his face down and plants it on your chest, enjoying the way he gets to hear your heartbeat that seems to have a nice rhythm to it.
“i wanna grow old as long as i get to do it with you,” he mumbles again and his arms unwrap from your middle and you watch as his hands push up the shirt you were wearing to kiss your stomach. “i want us to get wrinkly and ugly together,”
“you can never be ugly,” you say as you roll your eyes at your man but he strongly disagrees and pinches your sides.
“my hairline is receding.”
“please stop taking what nobara tells you so seriously,” you chuckle at how serious he is and a hand rests on his cheek. “in my eyes, you can never be ugly.”
“even when I forget to put my socks in the laundry basket and accidentally use your shower gel?”
“you’re only ugly when you do that.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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pucksandpower · 15 days
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Fashionably Challenged
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way
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You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.
One set for him, one set for you.
“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”
You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”
Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”
You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”
“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”
Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”
You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”
“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”
Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”
The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.
“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”
You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
He grins. “Not nearly enough.”
“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”
The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.
“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”
“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.
“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”
You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”
The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”
“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”
She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”
You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”
“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.
A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”
“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”
You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”
He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”
“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.
Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”
“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”
“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”
You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”
“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”
Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.
He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.
“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”
Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”
“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”
“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”
“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.
As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”
You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.
***
You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.
“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.
“I got an interesting offer today.”
That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”
You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”
Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”
But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”
He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”
“But?” You prod knowingly.
Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”
“About what?”
“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”
His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.
“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”
He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”
The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.
“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”
Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”
You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”
Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.
You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”
Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”
“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”
A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”
You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”
“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”
“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”
You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”
Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”
Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.
“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”
You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”
A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.
“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”
“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.
When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.
“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”
Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”
You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.
Eventually you break the silence.
“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.
Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”
You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”
“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”
You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.
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avis-writeshq · 2 months
Note
hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where reader gets drunk and needy for spencer 😭 but he denies (cuz yk shes drunk) and just takes care of him please? thank you!
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off my face — spencer reid
summary: “i’m off my face in love with you.” in which reader gets drunk and spencer has to nurse her back to health. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: rated 16+ for allusions to smut, reader gets drunk, reader wears lipstick and a dress, mentions of throwing up [not in detail], spencer being sickeningly perfect, lots of pet names, inspired by that one video of matthew. you know which one i’m talking about. a/n: i er… got carried away because i love this trope 😔 i am in fact obsessed wc: 1.23k
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It’s too loud. Granted, it’s a club; it’s supposed to be loud. Spencer cringes a little as the music somehow manages to get even louder and he sips at his coke. He has your purse in his lap and he’s also manning your drink like a guard dog; moving himself to the furthest seat in the booth that is away from the crowd. Your inevitable return is a lot sooner than he expected, and he watches with amusement as you slide into the booth and curl into his side, reaching for your drink. 
“Have fun?” Spencer asks with a soft laugh, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of you head. 
“Mm,” you hum in affirmation, eagerly sipping at the sugary concoction in front of you. “Would’ve been funner with you, baby.”
He laughs louder at that, rolling his eyes teasingly and squeezing at the flesh of your waist. “You know it wouldn’t have been.”
“Bet you’d be real sexy with all that sweat dripping off you,” you coo, your voice sickeningly sweet as your fingers move to toy with the buttons of his shirt. 
Your fingers are wet with the condensation from the chilled glass of your cocktail and they brush against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. A shudder runs down his spine at the contact, and his cheeks grow hot. His hand finds your wrist and he holds it firmly, but not enough to hurt. 
“Don’t,” he says, half jokingly half seriously as he moves his head to track your gaze. “How much have you had to drink, angel?”
You ignore the question, moving your fingers upward to brush against a blooming purple mark near his collar. A pout rests on your lips as you gesture to it, a frown forming on your face. “Who gave this to you?”
He bristles, moving the flap of his collar to cover the bruise. “You did. This morning.”
“Oh yeah!” The smile returns to your face awfully fast and a giggle bubbles up from your throat. “You love me.”
“I do,” he agrees, kissing your head again. 
Your expression is all too gleeful as you move your head just at the right time so that he lips would meet yours. He pulls away after a brief moment, about to say something else, when you effectively cut him off by pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. 
“Angel– sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” he says gently, prying your needy fingers away and holding them firmly in his hand. 
“Nuh uh,” you deny, leaning forward again and kissing his neck right where you left a mark earlier that morning. 
He jolts at the contact, pulling away as pink rises to his cheeks. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, honey.”
You blatantly ignore him, maneuvering yourself so that you’s practically half on his lap with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn’t mind the attention, per se. He just feels incredibly guilty about enjoying it when you’re loopy from all the cocktails you have had. You’re pressing kisses against his cheeks while your hands play with the collar of his shirt, tugging at the purple tie you chose earlier that day and there are lipstick stains all over his skin. He’s well aware of it; bright red with a sticky residue and he will forever not understand how you can wear it all the time. 
His tie has come undone entirely and you pull at his shirt to kiss dangerously close to his collarbone. 
“Okay–” he’s flushing scarlet and he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of anyone in the team. “Okay, baby, that’s enough. Let’s get you home.”
“Ooh,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows with insinuation.
“You need sleep.” He says it sternly, although you don’t seem to grasp the concept. 
“What kind of sleep?” You ask, winking. 
He shakes his head, amused and exasperated, as he rebuttons his shirt and reties his tie. “The REM kind. Come on, angel. Say good night to your friends.”
You giggle tiredly, waving goodbye to your friends. Penelope looks absolutely hammered, wiggling her eyebrows at you with an expression full of insinuation. Emily is smirking in your direction, swirling her martini around before taking a sip. JJ looks equally elated, snickering softly as she holds onto Will’s arm. 
Spencer ushers you gently into his car, leaning over the console to open the glove box on your side and brandishing a packet of micellar water wipes. He takes out two for himself before passing the rest of them to you.
“For your makeup,” he explains, wiping the lipstick marks off his cheeks. “I’ll help you with your skincare when we get home, alright?”
You’re in love. It isn’t long before he’s helping you up the stairs of his apartment and sitting you gently on the couch. Your eyes are droopy and it seems like the sugar high from your cocktails is wearing off. Spencer runs his fingers through your hair gently while he holds a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink. You only do it to appease him and once he’s satisfied with your water intake, he’s reaching for the zip of your dress.
“Someone’s needy,” you coo, giggling as he pulls it down to just below your ribcage. “Gonna rough me up?”
“No.” He answers it swiftly, and had you been sober your heart would have split in two. He continues, “I’m going to put you in something more comfortable and then you’re going to sleep.”
“Boring.”
“No, it’s not– it’s not boring,” he flounders, his cheeks growing hotter at your words. He can’t believe he’s arguing with a drunk person. “It’s not boring, baby, it’s safe. Alcohol is a neuro inhibitor. There’s a reason why you can’t drink and drive and it’s because the brain’s neural activity patterns are suppressed or blocked. That’s also the reason why you can’t ask a drunk person for consent; they don’t know or understand what’s going on around them.”
You’ve half fallen asleep at his explanation, the sleeves of your dress falling down your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. “So we’re not going to be partaking in passionate steamy love making?”
“No, we’re not,” he confirms, pulling your favourite pair of cotton pyjamas over your head. It’s a pale pink set with little bows prints all over it and a lacy collar. “Lift your hips for me, angel, I need to get the shorts on you.”
You comply, kicking the dress off into some forbidden corner of the room and Spencer takes this chance to slip the matching shorts onto your legs and up your thighs. The rest of the night is smooth sailing from there– he has successfully applied your skincare in such a way that you would be singing his praises. He has also managed to get you to drink another cup of water, and even though you’re going to wake up complaining about the fact you need to pee. He’d rather you complain about that instead of some raging headache. 
Spencer climbs under the covers next to you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your shoulder. A soft snore leaves your lips and he can’t help but chuckle. Passed out, as expected. 
“Good night, angel,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you tight. “See you in the morning.”
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
event page
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steviesbicrisis · 8 months
Text
Thinking about YouTuber Steve who’s gaining a lot of popularity with his weekly vlogs. The routine is very similar: he goes to work, hangs out with friends, acts silly for the camera, cooks for his roommate, watches movies with his roommate, goes out with his roommate.
His roommate is there a lot.
His new growing fanbase doesn’t take long to divide into factions regarding Steve’s dating life and sexuality; There are ships, OTPs, people who want him single so they can date him, and a surprisingly small portion which questions his heterosexuality, which gets always shut up by the following compelling arguments:
“stop assuming he’s gay.”
“Steve doesn’t look gay. He’s just a guy, a former jock, who loves to cook and hangs out with friends. A friend more than the others, but it’s his roommate so it makes sense, right?”
“And yes, they do cuddle while watching movies, but who doesn’t love a cuddle? You don’t have to be gay for that.”
“Sure, they hold hands when they go out but the city is crowded and they might lose each other.”
“Since when two male friends can’t be close without assuming that they’re gay?”
“Have you ever seen them kiss in ten minutes of weekly vlog? No, so drop your gay agenda already.”
And Steve Harrington, who started the whole vlog thing in the first place because he wanted to update his friends who live miles away and still doesn’t know how he got this much heteronormative bullcrap in his comments, has had enough.
One day, Steve Just-A-Guy Harrington, wakes up and chooses violence.
He replies to a tiktok comment that says “stop assuming he’s gay” with another video.
It begins with Steve glaring at the camera “oh yes please, stop assuming I’m gay.”
Then there’s a quick motion and Steve is pulling a curly haired guy into frame: Eddie, his roommate/platonic friend/totally not his boyfriend of 5+ years.
Eddie yawns, looking sleepily at the camera “are you vlogging?”
“I’m proving a point” Steve replies, then kisses him. They almost get lost into it, but Steve is a man on a mission, so he pulls back and turns to the camera.
“This is Eddie, my boyfriend. Not a friend who’s a boy, you delusional homophobes, we are together, a couple, in a relationship. We haven’t been just friends for over 5 years. We live together, he isn’t just a roommate.
And even if he was just my roommate, do you think I would live with this” he squeezes Eddie’s cheeks between his fingers and zooms in to show his face up close. Eddie blinks a couple of times, but let’s Steve do whatever he wants.
“Do you seriously think that I would live with this 24/7 and stay straight? Like, are you insane?” He gives Eddie a quick smack on the lips, leaving him blushing and more confused than ever.
Usually, it’s Eddie the one getting almost feral over Steve, not the other way around.
He doesn’t complain.
“So yeah, stop assuming I’m gay. Because I’m bi, you homophobic little shits.”
The video ends with Eddie pulling Steve for more than a quick peck on the lips, and Steve throwing the phone on their couch, face down.
Somehow, under Steve’s video, there’s still someone that comments “I mean, this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just bros helping bros, right?”
Steve is too busy making out with his “bro” to read it.
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loaksky · 4 months
Note
I don't know if you've done this yet but can we have mean ellie is FWB with the reader but she's jealous when the reader is into someone else 👀
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i have not + you know what anon i could kiss your brain rn ! i definitely view this pairing as separate from this fwb!ellie x reader, but this could also technically fit in their early timeline since nothing else has really been established about them...
content warnings: language, ellie being an asshole (very on brand for me to write ig lmao), reader actually sticks up for herself in this one, but eventually folds (i would too for ellie ngl) 18+ content that includes; brief mentions of strap-on sex, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving).
author’s note: i’ve been so unmotivated to write, but this request awoke something in me idk...also, if you’ve sent in a tlou request (yes even from june), i’m still cooking i promise! (and not in the way that ellie keeps promises in this fic lmfaoo).
main masterlist | tlou masterlist
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You didn’t want to say anything at first, couldn’t be too sure under the lowlights of the party with bass-y music that makes both the house and your chest throb with every beat, but you see it clear as day on the drive home and a passing streetpost illuminates the purpling flesh on Ellie’s carotid.
She nearly jumps out of her skin when your fingertips brush over the blooming bruise, obviously fresh and warm to the touch.
“What the fuck?” she huffs, pulling the drawstrings on her hoodie to scrunch to fabric around her neck.
“Who gave you that?” you ask softly, expression on your face enough to devastate, but Ellie’s always been different, an anomaly of sorts when it came to the matters of her stony heart.
“Why does it matter?” she scoffs.
“Ellie,” you sigh. “You know why it matters.”
She’s swinging a right at the intersection, nearing the residential you live in.
“It doesn’t,” she grunts. “Because at the end of the night, it’s you I’m fucking, isn’t it?”
And you don’t know why the way she puts it stings so much this time around when she frequently reminds you both directly and indirectly that while you may be her most recurrent hookup, you’re definitely not her only one, but it does. Does so much that you’re turning your face towards the window to hide the tears that are pooling.
Because all you wanted was Ellie. Wanted her in ways she wasn’t willing to give you. Wanted to learn and grow with her, but she wasn’t budging and lately, you’ve been feeling stupid.
When she turns into your neighborhood, you speak.
“Just drop me off, please.”
Ellie’s slowing down, palm finding purchase on your thigh.
“Babe, c’mon,” she practically whines, kneading the skin there. “Don’t be like that.”
You shift away from her, gather your purse from your feet as she continues through the different apartment buildings.
“Babe,” she calls again when you barely wait for her to stop and you’re pushing the car door open.
And maybe it’s childish, but you’re wounded and quite frankly done with the back and forth.
“She’s probably waiting for you,” you add petulantly.
“Babe, seriously. You’re being annoying,” she warns.
“And you’re being a dick,” you bite back. “First, you drag me out to a shitty party where I don’t know a single soul even though you promised we could just chill and smoke while watching that stupid fucking space exploration documentary, then when we get there, you’re leaving me with a bunch of sleazy assholes while you do god knows what with the same girl you’ve been telling me not to worry about for the last five weeks.”
And of things Ellie’s looks horrified at, it’s the fact that you’d been observant enough to recognize the girl she’d thought she whisked away before your prying eyes could catch on.
“I’m not fucking stupid, Ellie,” you say with resignation. “I tried to turn the other cheek because I really fucking like you, but you treat me like shit and I deserve better than that.”
Of course you don’t know it, but those fucking words bite. They’re an automatic trigger because unbeknownst to you, both of your friend groups think the same thing. Aren’t afraid to let her know otherwise. And she’s obviously well aware that, Christ, yes, you absolutely deserve better. Is actually really insecure on the low because she doesn’t know why you stick around with a piece of shit like her when you could have so much better.
So she does what she does best when she feels like a kicked puppy and lashes out.
“Of course Little Miss Princess deserves better,” she mocks. “What fucking ever. I don’t know why I flaked on a ten for such a stuck up bitch.”
And you see right through her, know that she’s all bark and no bite, but it hurts regardless, when you step off to the side and she’s leaning over the center console to shut the passenger side door herself.
She’s revving off without another word, and to add insult to injury, your phone’s pinging obnoxiously once you get out of your well-needed shower.
els <3 sent a video.
It’s the blonde from the party. Of course those dumb LEDs pulse red in the background, making Ellie and her flavor of the night look a thousand times more seductive. Ellie’s kissing her sloppily, whispering things against her mouth that you can’t quite pick out.
els <3 sent a video.
The next video’s grainy, but you can hear the tell-tale squelch, the girl’s shaky moans and Ellie egging her on. Your cheeks are on fire and you feel like you’re about to throw up.
els <3 sent a photo.
You wonder if the girl knows, that Ellie’s sending you the most compromising footage of her. If she knows how grimy the green-eyed girl truly is, sending someone else pictures of her stuffed hilt-deep with the same strap Ellie’d used on you.
els <3: still think u deserve better ?
You delete the thread and her phone number.
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Ellie expects you to crack first, you always do. Because even if she isn’t shit, she’s your biggest weakness and she knows it. Can say so with confidence, because maybe the same can be said about her.
She hasn’t fucked you in nearly two weeks and not a single body she touches can elicit the same feeling that you do. And in the back of her brain, she knows why, but Ellie’s prideful. Won’t dare admit it out loud.
So she cracks first. Texts you between classes.
me: i have a few joints + a coupon to tino’s if you’ll let me come over… :(
my #1 girl: Who’s this?
Ellie throws her head back and groans.
me: cmon baby, dont b like that. im srry i was mean, ill make it up to u
my #1 girl: I think you have the wrong number…
me: babe stopppp
Her text bubbles turn green after that message.
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You forget that Ellie has a copy of your key because she’s never used it in the five months that the two of you have been in this precarious situation, and your heart falls square to your ass when you emerge from the shower to find her setting up a box of pizza on your coffee table.
“Ellie, what in the fuck?”
She feigns nonchalance, pulls a few joints from her jacket pocket. But the aroma of weed or the grease of the pizza isn’t what makes you wrinkle your nose.
It’s the smell of flowers that waft from a pretty vase sitting on the cut away of the kitchen counter.
Your gaze fixes on the girl who settles on your couch.
“You need to leave,” you say stonily.
“But I just got here,” Ellie says. “And I brought you pizza…and flowers.”
“I’m sorry, did you think that a five dollar pizza and a bouquet of flowers from Saver’s was going to fix the fact that you’ve been so fucking awful to me for the past half year?”
Ellie shrinks.
“Well, no…but—”
“You practically sent me a homemade porno of you and some other girl you fucked to get back at me for setting a boundary, Ellie,” you say sharply. “What, did it not work out? Did you—”
“I’m trying to be the bigger person here,” Ellie sighs. “I am sorry. I just—”
“You what?”
“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Ellie snips. “God, you’re talking down to me like you’re a fucking therapist or my fucking mom and—”
You’re shaking your head, crossing the room and picking up the pizza from the coffee table to shove in her arms.
“I don’t have time for this,” you mutter. “Kenzie’s going to be here any minute now—”
“Who the fuck is Kenzie?” Ellie balks, caught like a deer in the headlights.
“Ellie, don’t,” you warn.
“Don’t what?” she practically seethes. “You think I’m just gonna be okay that you’re spending time with some other stupid bitch? Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you’re mine.”
And she shouldn’t have glanced down at your cleavage as you cross your arms over your chest, but Ellie’s weak and you look too fucking pretty for your own good.
“Yours?” you ask incredulously. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Yes, mine,” Ellie affirms. “All fucking mine and no one else’s.”
“God, you’re so full of shit, Ellie,” you scoff. “I’m supposed to be loyal to you and be okay with you having a roster, but I can’t go on a date with someone I genuinely like because it fucks with your brain to have a legitimate interest in somebody?”
“You like her?” Ellie asks in disbelief. “Like, like her, like her?”
“Yes,” you reply without hesitation.
And that makes Ellie’s jaw set, makes her narrow her eyes at you.
“You like her more than me?” she taunts.
And maybe she has you there, but you refuse to give her the upper hand.
“I could learn to,” you answer honestly. “Because Kenzie is kind to me. She doesn’t treat me like an option, doesn’t act like she’s God’s gift to the fucking world and that I should kiss her feet for giving me the time of day. And I get it, you don’t like me the way I like you—”
“You think I don’t like you?” Ellie asks like the thought is unfathomable.
“I don’t think, Ellie, I know. We went into this without any strings attached, we established that it’d just be fucking, but I was honest in telling you that I caught feelings and you used that to your advantage. You lied to me on multiple occasions, you make me look stupid, like I’m fucking crazy.”
And you wish you’d gotten through your spiel without choking up, but Ellie’s the first girl you’d liked in a while even if she was bad news. And when you thought that maybe you could shake her, she’d come barreling back.
“Baby,” she murmurs, face softening as she’s crossing the space between you two to cup your face in her hands.
“Don’t call me that,” you hiccup, trying to push her touch away.
“Babe, stop,” she says firmly. “I’m serious. You think I don’t like you?”
“Well, you don’t fucking act like it,” you mutter. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways because whatever this was is done. You’re free to do what you want, who you want, whether you like me or not.”
God, do you unwittingly light a fire under Ellie’s ass when she thinks of what this Kenzie girl could do to you if she lets you walk out the door. Absolutely loathes the thought of anyone else knowing what you look like in any state of indecency, that you fucking cry watching children’s movies, that you snore like a freight train if you’re tired enough and have a weird ass penchant for pickle chips when you’re high.
“You’re not going on that fucking date,” Ellie says with finality, palms sliding from your shoulders to skim down the length of your arms and situate over the swell of your hips.
“Who says?”
“Me,” she huffs. “Because I’m going to make it up to you and we’re going to smoke these blunts and eat this fucking pizza and I’m going to make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t even remember that you were thinking of leaving me for someone else.”
“You’re not my girlfriend, Ellie,” you reiterate. “You can’t just–”
“Maybe not then, and maybe not in this moment, but I will be,” she says, and the words catch you completely off guard.
She’s catching your bottom lip between hers to further disorient you, kissing you like this could very well be her last.
“Just give me some time,” she whispers, walking you back towards your bedroom. “I’ll get my shit together for you. Promise.”
And you know deep down that you shouldn’t believe her. She’s just feeling territorial and grasping at straws to keep you leashed, but Ellie’s always been such a good kisser and she’s devouring you like she really is sorry.
She’s tossing your against your unmade bed, caging you between lithe limbs as she leans back on her haunches to take you in. Your blouse rides up to reveal the flimsy bands of your lacy little thong and Ellie’s lacking decency as she flips your skirt up to reveal a growing patch of wetness.
“Were you planning on getting fucked or do you always go out like this?” Ellie ponders, fingers rough as she pulls the tiny scrap of fabric down your legs and nearly salivates when a string of your arousal leaves with it.
Your lips part to answer, but her thumb’s dipping between your folds, pad collecting some of your slick from your drooling slit to smear over your achey little bud.
“I asked you a question,” Ellie says gently. “You just gotta be honest with me, baby.”
“S’hot out,” you whimper, fingers closing around her wrist when your body jerks against a particularly delicious stroke of her thumb.
“Yeah?” she clarifies. “You wouldn’t let any else touch you, would you? Not when I take good care of you like this?”
Her other hand comes to toy with your entrance, doesn’t give you any warning before her middle and ring finger are sinking inside slowly.
“Oh, fuck,” you whine.
“You’re my girl, you hear me?” Ellie murmurs, leaning down to catch your clit between her lips. “You’ll be my number one, always.”
She’s teasing at first, tongue languid against your fluttering pussy, but you’re quiet, back of your wrist caught between your teeth to muffle your moans.
One of her hands reach up to yank it away.
“Say it,” she barks, pulling away from your needy heat.
“Ellie,” you whimper.
“Say it,” she repeats firmly.
“M’your girl,” you moan shakily, thighs quivering as she smoothes her palms over the underside of your thighs to push them up to your chest.
“Yeah, you are,” she whispers, spitting harshly on your heat. “My favorite fucking pussy.”
She’s eating you out like she’s missed you, like she’ll only be satisfied when you finally cum. And maybe it’s true.
Maybe not.
Especially when she draws nearly three orgasms from you and practically knocks you out.
You don’t know how long you doze off for, but when you finally wake up, the sun has almost completely set, bathing your room in a burnt orange glow that leaves your dewy skin warm and sticky. And perhaps it’s wishful thinking when you call Ellie’s name, met only with the echo of your raspy voice. After all, you’re tucked on the wrong side of bed, elusive girl nowhere to be found.
As you dress and search for your phone, you can’t even find it in yourself to be surprised.
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reidssluttywaist · 10 days
Text
Spencer's lap.
In which you grind against your boyfriend.
fem!reader, season 2 Spencer, +16.
tags: dry humping, a little bit of dirtytalk.
a/n: guys this is so bad I've never written smut before but i had this idea while rewatching season 2 and tried something, this must have a bunch of mistakes and it's not proofread at all, also if anyone wants to rewrite this better please message me lol.
You never thought you'd have to sit for a physics class ever again since you left high school, and here you are, a half hour into your boyfriend explaining very throughly to you how he can make a rocket with 'physics magic', he also made you swear you would never tell his tricks to anybody, 'cause a magician never shares his secrets, right?!
Except you didn't get sleepy like you did in high school, you never paid that much attention to physics since now, the way Spencer's smile explains every detail, the giggle he lets out as he rumbles about different facts of all the physics laws, you're amazed by how happy he is, how his brain is extraordinary.
Hearing his humbles is better than any music you could think of, and paired with the soft sound of the rain falling outside Spencer's place, you feel so cozy and safe.
You and Spencer have been together for a couple of months now, he is your first real boyfriend, both of you are inexperienced in every single part of being in a relationship, sometimes the feeling of love you feel towards him overwhelms you, almost leaving you out of breath, you can't believe how good it is to love somebody, how god it is to love Spencer.
"Wow, that one might be your best! Look how high it went" you said after his most recent "rocket" made its way to the ceiling, Spencer smiling so big and laughing, making you laugh as well.
"Did you see that? I think I've perfected my measurements it's so high!!" Spencer says with a high-pitched voice, too excited to contain himself.
"The only bad thing about this is that you have to clean this mess up" You make a sad face, looking at the place that has little bits of water splashed all over.
"Nah, it's fine! It'll dry out soon enough" he says pretending that he doesn't care about the mess, except he does.
"C'mon, I'll help you clean and make us some dinner after, ok?!" You get up from your side of the couch, and hold Spencer's hand, trying to pull him up.
"I don't wanna get up now, it can wait," He says seriously, you can almost believe him.
You try pushing him up again, but this time he pulls you against him, being more successful than you do you end up falling onto him, sitting on his lap facing him.
"I said it can wait, I can clean up later, ok? I wanna spend some time with you now." He said holding your waist and looking at you.
You've never been on his lap before, you guys make out now and then, but never in that suggestive of a position, and Spencer never makes the first move like that, you feel your stomach filling with butterflies.
"You look so good with your glasses on" You blurt it out looking at him, analyzing his face as he looks at you.
"Can I kiss you?" Spencer says, you don't need words to respond as you press your lips onto his, starting a gentle kiss.
You'll never get accustomed to kissing Spencer, his soft lips, he's so gentle almost like he's afraid you'll run away if he makes any sudden moves, little does he know you won't, you'd never run away from him you feel like you could never get enough from him.
The kiss was now way more intense, your tongue exploring his, his grip on your waist a lot tighter now, one of his hands let go of your waist and made its way to the back of your neck, making you let out a soft moan into Spencer's mouth, making his body shiver under you.
Your hips start slightly moving over Spencer's thigh, the light friction making you want more.
Spencer was breathing heavily, and you could also feel him growing against your leg, he pulled you harder against him, adjusting your cunt to be right on top of his cock, applying pressure to your hips, you moan again, and you could feel yourself get wetter by the second.
"Spence, wanna feel you." You say in between kisses, making him whimper and push you harder against him.
"Fuck" he swears under his breath, both of his hands going to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. "That okay?" he asks.
"Yes, please." You've never agreed to something so fast in your life, helping him take your pants away, after a few seconds of struggling you were back to kissing him like your life depended on it.
"C-can I take yours?" you whisper, almost scared to say it, he agrees by guiding your hand to his waistband, also helping you take his pants now, you were both only with underwear now, not even bothering to take your tops off, you went back to humping him, your thin underwear fabric soaked.
Spencer's shaky hands made their way onto your shirt, both of them massing your breasts, making noises come out of your mouth and the man under you groan.
"N-need more, Spence." You say grinding your hips harder against him, and bring your hands to his underwear pushing it down just enough so his cock is free.
You start to use your hands on him, slow up and down movements just enough so he can't even keep his eyes open.
"Want your pussy, please, wanna feel you" Spencer mumbles taking your hands off his cock, his hand going to your panties and ripping them out.
That made you gasp, making your pussy even more wet.
Spencer positioned you on his cock, which was resting on his stomach, you started moving your hips up and down, both of you moaning even louder now.
"You feel so warm, baby, you're so wet for me," He says, looking at where your bodies are rubbing against each other, he looks mesmerized by this sight, mouth slightly opened as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you shiver.
Spencer never dirty talked like that before, you could see the blush on his cheeks as he did, this new side of him making your mind blurry and a not start to form on your stomach.
"I'm so close," he says, biting his lips as you try to move even harder for him.
"N-eed more, please, your fingers," you say and he immediately knows what you mean, taking one of his hands out of your hips and bringing it to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit with ease, start moving it in circles making you let out a loud moan.
"Fuck" You let out, not able to keep your eyes open.
"Can you cum for me? Please baby wanna see your pretty face as you fuck yourself on me." Spencer says, that added with his movements in your clit make your mind fuzzy, you felt the heat on your stomach spread to your legs and your body starts to shake, releasing all the tension you were feeling.
"Oh, you're so pretty like that, so pretty when you cum for me," Spencer says, helping you ride out your climax, you were so sensitive by the recent orgasms but you started to move your hips harder and faster on Spencer's cock.
He bites his lips and you feel him grip your ass, his glasses were blurry and it was so hot that he didn't take him out.
He groaned when you felt his dick twit under you, you helped him through his orgasm, kissing him when you were both done, his hands when to your back caressing it, slowly moving up and down.
"That was so good" He whispers to you.
"A dirty talker, huh?! Who would've thought?" you joke, making him laugh.
"Most men are dirty talkers so it's not that uncommon" he rumbles.
He switched up to nerdy Spencer again, making you smile.
You spend a couple more minutes just talking before getting up, you make sure to point all that he must buy you a new pair of panties to pay for the one he ripped, he agrees, saying he would buy more than one because "you'll never know what might happen, right?"
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dragonsholygrail · 3 months
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Beyond Desperation
Halsin Silverbough x Reader
a/n: Halsin and Astarion, my two main mans. I couldn’t not write something for Halsin. Some of the description may have gotten a little size kinky but dude is huge so it makes sense to me.
summary: After a particularly adrenaline endorsing fight ensues, Halsin needs desperately to feel close to you. His first course of action is to connect his body and soul with yours, replacing the aches of the fight with the aches of strenuous activities. Leading him to go a little bit overboard and apologize through vigorous after-care.
warning: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, biting, marking, body worship, light subspace, phenomenal after-care.
word count: 2.7k
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It was due to a planned attack that started all of this. You had been there of course, fighting by his side. He had been particularly looking forward to it all day, his energy levels high despite his calm demeanor. You could tell having learned to read his body language and all the other things he never needed to speak aloud. Halsin was itching to help and frankly, so were you. Both of you aiming to look out for the natural order of things.
But then something happened that you probably both should’ve expected. In his excitement, Halsin had gone a bit too wild for a first turn of attack. After that, it wasn’t much longer until the entire fight was over and you all had clearly won. The other guys, while having gotten a few good hits in, couldn’t last long compared to Halsin’s stamina.
Afterwards, he went right to you, still overwhelmingly pent up from the very underwhelming experience of a fight. Checking to make sure you weren’t seriously injured. His heading straight for you was growing to be somewhat of a common occurrence. You tried not to look into it or think too deeply about it. You knew the way in which he cared for others. But that didn’t stop your heart from warming that he came right for you when becoming aware of his need. That he trusted you to be able to take care of him.
Though right now you were starting to feel a strange kindred bond that your opponents had with him. That's to say you were beginning to fear you too didn’t have the stamina to match up with Halsin. Your nails dig into Halsin’s stomach, bringing out a low growl from him as he helps you ride him into another orgasm for you both.
Like clockwork a hoarse scream is ripped from your throat as Halsin brings you to another one of your countless rippling climaxes. Your orgasm coats his cock just as your walls spasm around him and he groans, his eyes clouded over in a lust-filled daze. The only thing on his mind is bringing you to your peak once again, desperate to feel the way you clench around him as he empties himself inside of you. Desperate to see and feel your body as he gives you pleasure. Even as a puddle of your combined release soaks into the bedroom sheets of the local inn.
Your body convulses as sharp prickles erupt over your body from his deep thrusts and the beginnings of overstimulation. A whimper moves past your lips as you sag against Halsin’s broad warm chest, exhaustion falling over you after hours of euphoric bliss.
“You’ve done so well for me, dove. I knew you would,” Halsin’s low gravelly voice whispers along the shell of your ear as he leans down to your height. Your body twitches as he continues rocking into you though you can tell he’s restraining himself. Holding back from taking you again so soon after such an intense orgasm. You whine, burying your face in his neck as your hands trail up his overheated skin till they wrap into his hair. Both of you feeling needy for touch right now. For closeness and connection. “Sh, sh, sh. I’ve got you.”
“More Halsin, please,” you croak out, lips brushing along his raging pulse. Your hips start to move with his and your jaw drops, feeling the burn as his thick girth continues to stretch and split you open. But Halsin’s hands are right there on your ass, pushing himself inside you. Your body warps into him, a long mewl leaving you. But just as you think it’s about to get so good again, Halsin’s hands tighten, keeping himself firmly planted in your walls.
“Relax, it’s alright. Take your time. I know you got one more in you and I’m not going anywhere,” Halsin’s voice is a low rumble that vibrates against your skin as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. Your body still shakes but you’re itching to move, to keep him stuffing you full of his cum till he forces it out with another healthy dose of it. You truly don’t know where your minds gone when you reach this place with him. The crown of his cock rests sweetly against your cervix and it only serves to drive you deeper into insanity.
“Don’t- don’t make me wait. I can’t and I know you can’t either. I know you need it and I can do this for you. I want to do this for you,” you beg earnestly as a light fog grows heavier in your mind and your arousal for him heightens. You know this’ll give Halsin peace of mind, you know it’ll calm him after the fight you all went through. You want nothing more than to give that to him. So you whisper the one thing you hope will push him over the edge. “Just let go.”
Halsin is frozen, keeping you frozen along with him. His forehead now resting heavily on your shoulder, his nose brushing along your collarbone as he inhales heavy amounts of your scent. Then with a final squeeze to your ass, he lifts you up his cock, only leaving in the tip before his hips snap harshly back up into you. You cry out, cunt fluttering around his cock to which it responds with a twitch. Your bodies having been molded and in sync to each others.
Your hands caress his ears in order to intensify his pleasure. You feel the rumble in his chest and you press closer to him. Using his hold on your bottom, Halsin moves you up and down on his dick with ease, starting you both at a hurried pace. Your jaw drops, teeth nicking the skin of his neck.
“You’re ok,” Halsin breathes out, his voice low. You can hear the way he inhales and exhales roughly, tiny grunts leaving him with every wet smack of your hips meeting. You can only respond with broken whines, eyes fluttering as you lean all your weight on his imposing yet comforting figure. Halsin is more than prepared to carry you through this as he fucks into you.
His hands grip your body tightly as he fights for control, not wanting to be more rough than you can handle. His nails lightly dig into your skin, breaking skin in a way that has you moaning as pricks of pain join in with the vast amounts of pleasure. You know it’s sure to leave a mark or two but you can’t help but want more. Something that won’t fade away in a day or two.
You writhe against Halsin’s body, wanting his cock to touch every depth inside you as he maintains his frenzied pace. Lifting his head from your shoulder, he maneuvers around in order to more easily trail his soft lips over your heated body. He follows a pathway down your neck, tongue teasing your shoulder. His back arches so he can continue on along your chest. You gasp as his teeth bite at you softly, making your body buzz and quiver. His lips seem unable to leave your skin. You note the way his body shakes, his breath mixing with his groans and coming out in short pants.
You moan as his nails sink in a little further. Head thrown back you bask in every sensation you’re greeted with. It’s only when Halsin’s lips pause just above your collarbone do some of your senses come back to you. Though it remains difficult as you feel as though your body is floating in an air of bliss.
“W-what?” You try to ask through your haze, but talking proves to be difficult as every single thrust is punching the air out of your lungs. You barely even register it as Halsin’s teeth sink deep into your flesh. You’re so consumed by pleasure the puncture feels like faint tingles that only increase your ecstasy. You cry out more from surprise than anything. Your hands hold onto his hair tightly as you keep him right there inside you. Now in every way.
Halsin, so caught up in the way your tight cunt sucks him in with every thrust, the warm wetness encompassing him, and your beautiful body welcoming everything he is, he couldn’t stop the overflowing emotions whirling around in his mind. Before he knew it his teeth were out and burying themselves in deep. He was going to take them out immediately— he was going to apologize. But then he felt you tug him closer.
So instead he finds his mind completely spinning. Every time he starts to lift you up his cock, his hips snap back up into you as if desperate to stay. You whimper, back arching unnaturally as you’re unable to escape a second of pleasure, not getting a moment of reprieve. His brutal pace is relentless as he jackhammers his way inside you. You squirm but it only has him pressing harder into your G-spot, causing a sharp choking noise to leave you from the shock.
Your body tenses as you can’t escape the intense sensations inflicted upon you. You try to open your mouth and express it but all that leaves is a long moan that only has Halsin start sucking at the skin around his mark, his teeth still embedded in you. Your stomach clenches painfully as your orgasm reaches higher and higher. Goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire as you feel yourself burning from the inside out. That burning heat coming from the way his girth fills you, consumes you.
Halsin, having become attuned with your body, senses that you’re on the precipice of something magnificent. He doesn’t hesitate to slam your body back down on his dick and grind your clit roughly on the hair of his happy trail. You choke, your body jerking with violent force as the cord at the bottom of your belly snaps. A ringing echos in your ears and you can faintly hear your screaming beyond that as your climax crashes into you in waves, one right after the other as he doesn’t stop the stimulation on your clit.
A few moments later his teeth slip out of you as he goans from your clenching down on him. A few quick jerks of his hips and he’s emptying another load into your walls. You feel his cum flood through you, adding to the mix of busy sensations you’re experiencing. Yet this one has to be your favorite. Your body convulses uncontrollably and you feel a faint spark of worry as black spots suddenly surround your vision. You quickly call out Halsin’s name before you fall into darkness, your body going limp in his hold.
When you wake, you’re laying on the bed flat on your back. You wonder what woke you up and why you were asleep in the first place when a shocking texture brushes between your folds. You hiss, body jerking back. You look down just as Halsin’s head snaps up to look at you. Seeing a wet cloth in his hand and the tortured look in his eye has your memories flooding back to the front of your mind in an instant.
His gaze only lasts a moment before moving back down between your thighs. You see as that tortured look increases as his face twists. With a featherlight touch he cleans you up, being careful with the wet cloth as he wipes everything away. Your body aches but his soothing touch is enough to make you instantly relax back into the bed.
“Oh, Halsin,” you sigh, voice hoarse from your screams, watching as he avoids your gaze. Your limbs feel as though they weigh a million pounds, so all you can do is lay and watch as Halsin internally tortures himself over what just happened. Your heart flutters as he bends down, pressing soft apologetic kisses across your hips.
“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” Halsin mumbles after a few long moments of silence. He grimaces, shaking his head as his eyes once again catch onto the forming bruises around your hips he’d just kissed. Looking away for a moment he puts some green paste he most likely made on his hands. He then leans forward, hands sliding over your bum and to the small puncture wounds from his nails. He makes sure to rub it in carefully to each mark. You wait until he’s finished and sitting back next to your legs.
“Halsin c’mere,” you call gently, loving the evident care shown from him while also needing you both need more. The air surrounding you is cold and empty as the fog is all but disappeared from your mind and you once again feel everything fully. You see Halsin hesitate, doing a double take to meet your gaze. Emotion rises in your chest and your voice cracks as you ask again. “Please, come here.”
His face twists in pain at the small break in your call. He doesn’t waste another moment before crawling up the length of his bed. Laying by your side he remains close while keeping a few inches of space between you. His eyes frantically move up and down your naked body, checking you over for what was probably the millionth time.
“How’re you feeling? Do you hurt? Did I hurt you?” He asks quietly, one question firing off as soon as he finishes asking the first. Finding your strength, you sluggishly lift an arm and cup his cheeks in order to bring his focus to your face. His cheek falls into your palm, soaking up your touch. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you say in an attempt to calm his guilty heart. But Halsin immediately scoffs, not buying that for a second. In the moment, it had briefly scared you. But you were ok. Now, more than anything, you wanted to laugh about how he’d made you feel so good your body gave out. Though you could see he wasn’t in the joking mood right now.
“You cannot say such things, sweetheart, look at you,” Halsin says, motioning a hand along your stiff body, eyes following it. That same hand carefully lands around your waist. He rubs his thumb in calming circles, bringing a warmth to spread through you. Guilt continues to radiate off of him and it hurts your heart to see. He closes his eyes, angling his head to kiss along your wrist and down your arm. “I lost control— that is far from ok,”
“I wanted to go again. I don’t regret it, even now,” you admit, thumb caressing his cheek. Both of you subconsciously working to soothe the other. Halsin’s eyes open and meet yours. You can see his emotions going haywire through the depth of his eyes. He feels so much and carries so much on his back. He’s incredibly strong but you want him to know he doesn’t have to carry it alone.
“I was reckless. It was my responsibility to take care of you, make sure I wasn’t too rough. Now look at you,” he murmurs against your skin as he continues his soft kisses. With your hand now free of his face, you wrap it back into his hair. Such a simple touch from him has your heart beating out of your chest.
“Look at me. You’re taking care of me perfectly,” you express, letting your emotion shine through to him. His soft eyes flicker up to look at you as his lips reach your shoulder. They now look the tiniest bit more forgiving than they did a moment ago. Without moving even an inch away, his arms slip around your body. He curls you into himself, fully encapsulating you within his form. You hum contently, curling your arms between your bodies and brushing along his smooth skin.
“And I won’t stop. Is there anything you need?” His face now right in front of yours and his body surrounding you completely, you feel a million times better. Comfort and safety solidify themselves within you. Your eyes look between his as you can see his full attention on you and anything you may need of him. Right now the idea of needing more seems impossible as you have everything you could ask for right here.
“Just this.”
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romantichomicide95 · 11 months
Text
Gojo x Reader
No nut November
Summary: Gojo tries to participate in no nut November but his girlfriend has other plans.
Warnings: Pure smut. Minors DNI. 18+ Posting twice so it has its own post for it as well.
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“Baby, please go sit over there.” Gojo begs. You were both sitting on the couch in his apartment, having your weekly date night/movie night. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder until your boyfriend practically whines at you to move.
“You’re distracting me baby. You look way to sexy tonight. You’re killing me. Why are dressed so fucking hot on movie night anyway. Fuck.”
See your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, the cocky, overconfident(maybe earned confidence) man he was thought he would try the No Nut November challenge. Something he probably saw scrolling online, something so many men try to accomplish. You thought it was quite silly, sex was good…it was healthy, but he insisted he could do it. “I can do anything. I’m Satoru Gojo. I’m the best at everything. Anything I put my mind to I can do perfectly.” Okay, maybe he didn’t quite say it like that…but that’s certainly how it sounded.
Unfortunately for you though, that meant no sex. No nothing really, he said he couldn’t touch you sexually or he’d give in. He’d kiss you, but that was it. No fingering, no eating you out. Just kissing. What were you? Teenagers? All you’ve done the past 2 weeks is makeout. You were aching…and you knew he was too. So tonight you put on your shortest skirt, you’re cute little lacy panties, no bra and a shirt that was just a little bit low. Nipples visible through the fabric, just enough for him to want more.
“Toru seriously? I’m not doing anything.” That was a lie. You wanted him, you were aching to feel the way his cock slammed into your pussy, the way his tongue flicked on your clit, the way he grabbed your ass rocking your hips back and forth whenever you sat on his cock. Sex with Gojo was fantastic, and you’d been without for too long. So here you were, doing the opposite of nothing, trying to turn him on. Sure you were only sitting shoulder to shoulder, but the way you were slyly reaching over him to grab popcorn making sure he got a good view of your tits; or the way you were holding his hand and carefully placed it right at the sweet spot between your thigh and your cunt. He was right, you were distracting him.
He pauses the movie and full turns to you. His blue eyes piercing through you, sometimes you thought his six eyes could read your thoughts by the way they bore into your soul. “Not doing anything my ass. Please angel, you’re tempting me. I’m trying to do a challenge remember?” He gives you his best attempt at a puppy dog face.
“Yes Satoru. I remember.” you say rolling your eyes, your hand makes it’s way to his thigh, hovering right over the fabric of his sweatpants, inching closer and closer to where his cock rests. “I’m not doing anything, we’re just watching a movie.” you say innocently blinking your eyelashes at him as your hand finally rest directing on his cock through the fabric.
“First of all its Toru or baby, or sweetheart, or my handsome hunk to you. Second of all what do you call this than?” he says motioning to where your hand lay still.
“Okay TORU, and I’m literally just sitting here baby. Whatever do you mean.” You still play innocent as you start to rub his cock over the fabric of his pants.
“Baby, come on. You’re being such a fucking tease….fuck. Go sit over there you’re killing me here.” He whines, though he hasn’t moved an inch. He’s much taller than you, much stronger yet he hasn’t removed your hand from his growing erection.
“Oh, I’m sorry baby. You want me to sit somewhere else?.” You climb over him, lifting your skirt and placing yourself on him, face to face, one leg on either side. You start to pepper his neck with kisses, blowing softly into his ear.
“Fuckkk Y/N.” Is all he can breathe out. He throws his head back, all the pent up energy inside him wants to come out, it’s begging. Your lips make their way to his, and he kisses you hungrily, chasing your lips when you break away.
“We can still kiss Toru… that’s what you said.” You start grinding your hips onto his lap, feeling his erection between your legs. The heat coming from you is almost too much to bare. The way his hard cock feels against your panties causes a light moan. Your pussy aches to feel him, any part of him.
“This isn’t just kissing love. God you’re such a fucking tease baby.” He’s grinding himself into you, his big hands grasping firmly at your hips. You lift your shirt over your head and watch as his focus falls to your tits, wanting to taste them. Feel them.
You slow the rhythm of your grinding even further. Making his cock twitch. “Yeah baby, do you want me to stop? I’m so wet for you Toru, I want you so bad.” you whisper seductively in his ear, moving just enough to pull his pants off, which he doesn’t stop, taking your place back on his lap. “I need you Toru.” You inch back so he has a full view of your body, his hands still firmly grasping your hips. Cock rock solid. He’s taking you in, drunk off your words. His cock is throbbing at every whisper in his ear, watching the sight of you sitting so pretty on his lap, begging for him. You slide two of your fingers into your panties, letting out a small moan as you rub your aching clit. “Baby you really gunna make me fuck myself?”
“Fuuuuck. I can’t with you. Is this what you want?” He rips your underwear off you, literally rips them in half rubbing the tip of his cock against your slit. Teasing you with the feeling. He kisses your lips, breaking free to whisper in your ear “God you drive me crazy, little slut, tell me how bad you want me again.”
“Toru need it, I n-need you inside me.”
“Yeah? Fuck, is this what you wanted princess?” he asks as he pumps his hips up, shoving his cock inside you watching the way your tits bounce as you ride his fat cock.
“Y-yes Toru. Missed this.” you moan into his ear. Bouncing up and down, grinding yourself in his lap. Feeling how good his cock fills you up, the way he moves his hips in rhythm with yours. “God Toru you feel so good, don’t s-stop.” You moan, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his mouth makes its way to your tits, taking one on his mouth sucking your hard nipple. His hands so firm on your ass you’re sure they’ll leave marks.
He flips you over, so effortlessly until he’s right above you, you pull his shirt over his head running one hand down his chest as he lifts your legs up over his shoulder. Fucking you deep, causing whimpers out of your mouth. Your nails dig into his back as he pumps faster and faster. One hand furiously massaging your clit.
He shoves his fingers in your mouth, gagging you. “You like the way you taste sweetheart?” he says before grabbing your neck, slightly squeezing as he pounds into you.
You feel small tears brimming at your eyelashes, whimpers still escaping your lips. He’s fucking you so hard, it feels intoxicating. You’re drunk off the way he feels against your walls.
“You wanted this so bad, fucked my challenge all up. Now your taking me so well, god your so tight. Fuck.” His lips make there way down your body, leaving a trail of bite marks and sloppy kisses.
“I’m gun-gunna c-cum Toru.” you moan as you reach climax, loadly moaning as you cover his cock in your slick juices. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching, head thrown back. “Fuck you’re so sexy, you take my dick so well.” He says before pulling out and shoving it in your mouth. “Do you like the way you taste princess?” he asks as he fucks your face, your tongue running circles around his cock. Gagging slightly. One hand jacking what you can’t fit in your mouth.
“Mhhmmm” you manage to mumble.
“Shit. Ooo I’m cumming, take it all. Swallow it.” he demands, his eyes focused on the way you suck at the tip, drinking every drop, tongue swirling delicately around it.
He collapses on your chest, both your naked bodies entangled together. Heavy breathing and tiny kisses to your chest and your neck. Body numb, pussy feeling raw.
After a moment of you two just being. You both get up to replace your clothing. “Fuck. There goes no nut November.” Gojo says with a laugh, still out of breathe, pulling his sweatpants back on and motioning for you to lay on his lap.
“I’m not even sorry.” you say with a smirk. “Now let’s finish our movie yeah?”
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godslino · 3 months
Text
MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.
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pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around
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chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3
“So…I know a guy.”
You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.
“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.
Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.
You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.
Long story short, it didn’t.
Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.
“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.
“And what would you know about that?”
“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”
This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.
“At least let me tell you about him?”
“No.”
“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”
Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.
“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”
A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.
Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.
Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.
“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.
And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.
But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.
“What’s his name?”
Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”
“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”
He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”
“Five.”
“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”
“Four.”
“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”
“Three.”
“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”
Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.
“You swear this guy is normal?”
Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”
“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”
“No.”
“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”
“What the fuck? I just said no.”
“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”
“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.
“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”
Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.
“Deal.”
🎥🍿
Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.
You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.
When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.
Chan [12:32p.m.]
Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?
Something came up at the studio
I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time
Great. Already off to a rough start.
In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.
You [2:33p.m.]
no worries!!!
you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?
Chan [2:34p.m.]
Nope! So we should be fine
I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?
You [2:36p.m.]
sounds perfect
hope stuff goes well at the studio!!
Chan [2:40p.m.]
You’re sweet
Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)
You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.
Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.
To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.
It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.
The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.
You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.
You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.
Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.
You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.
He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.
He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”
It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.
“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”
You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.
“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”
Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.
Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.
🎥🍿
Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.
You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.
When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.
“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.
Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.
Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.
You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.
Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.
By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.
The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.
There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—
“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”
The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.
Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.
“Yup, that’s the one.”
Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.
“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”
You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”
“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.
“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.
“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”
Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.
“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”
First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.
Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.
“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.
“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”
You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.
“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”
When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”
Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.
The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.
“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”
Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.
There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.
Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.
Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.
About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.
“You okay? You look kind of tired.”
Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.
“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”
“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”
The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.
Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.
“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.
You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.
He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.
“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.
You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”
“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”
🎥🍿
“For you.”
Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.
“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.
After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.
“Oh, you don’t—”
“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”
“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”
Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”
You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”
It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.
The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.
“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”
Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.
“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”
Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.
Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.
“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.
“You don’t know me enough to say that.”
“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”
A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.
“You’re…”
“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.
“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”
You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”
“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.
“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not? I think you like it.”
Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.
“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.
“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.
“Is it bad if I say no?”
Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.
“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”
A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.
It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.
You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.
“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”
“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”
Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.
“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.
“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.
“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.
“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”
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[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]
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© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.
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papercorgiworld · 3 months
Text
A good morning
Draco, Mattheo, Enzo, Theo and Blaise
Alternatively: It’s like breakfast in bed and heaven to you. And not in the sweet way, but in the smutty way.
Based on this lovely request, I bring you pure porn, no plot. Warning: oral f!receiving, munch alarm!
Writing smut for five guys, a total of 3000+ words of pure porn, sheerly focused on eating you out, is not something I’ll be doing again anytime soon. As fun as this was to write it was seriously brain wrecking. Soo much smuttt! I really hope you enjoy this one!! Happy readings! Enjoy your boyfriends being good boys.
Read ‘Another good morning’, where you return the favour to our Slytherin boys.
Draco
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Draco had been an ass to you the night before and he knew it. As soon as he woke up and saw your sleeping figure, guilt washed over him. You were too good for him and you had proven it to him yet again by being understanding and forgiving, while all he did was complain.
Merlin, why can’t I treat her right. He snuggles close to you and lets his hand wander over your body. He places a soft kiss on your shoulder and can’t keep himself from sliding his hand under your night dress. When your still half asleep figure wiggles closer to him and a content smile starts to tug on your lips, Draco feels like he's on to something. Maybe he could still treat you right.
Calm but at the same time burning with eagerness he moves the sheets and pushes your dress up. He starts kissing your thighs, just near your panties, and his hands slide to your ass. “(Y/n), sweetie, move for me.” He whispers and gently lifts your hips to fully take off the piece of lingerie. “Draco?” You murmur as you feel him undress you. He shushes you. “Let me please you.” He whispers and you feel his breath between your legs. For a moment your eyes flutter open, but as soon as you feel him pepper your pussy with kisses you close your eyes allowing yourself to fully enjoy this moment of bliss without asking questions.
He wants to be a true gentleman and doesn’t waste time teasing, but also doesn’t move too quickly. He needs you to enjoy every movement of his tongue as he fucks you with his mouth. He snakes an arm around your waist and starts to move more rapidly sending waves of pleasure through your body. You desperately breathe his name as his tongue circles your sensitive spot. When your moans turn into whimpers Draco’s hunger for you grows. “Let me taste more of you, please (y/n).” Draco was rarely this soft and needy for you and you had forgotten how weak you were for his pleading voice.
You were so close and when Draco starts pushing his face into your pussy like a madman you climax and your hand reaches for his hair. With your fingers entangled in his hair he continues to feast on you as you enjoy your high. “What was that all about?” You murmur still coming down from your orgasm as Draco lays down next to you. He cups your cheek and his thumb caresses your blushed face. “Good girlfriends deserve good mornings.” A content smirk tugs on his lips as he admires your beauty. “I could wake up next to you for the rest of my life.” He confesses with his eyes glued to yours. You smile and snuggle closer to him. “Are you going to be between my legs every morning?” You nudge your nose against his with a playful smile. He kisses you long and passionately. “If that’s what the lady wants then that’s what the lady will have.”
Mattheo
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Due to his absence during class Slughorn had left Mattheo’s name off of his selected list, which meant that he had to sit out the next dinner party. Nothing Mattheo normally would care about, but he really wanted to spend some time with you. Also, you weren’t too pleased with him either, because Slughorn’s parties were much more enjoyable with Mattheo present. So, Mattheo had promised to meet you in your room after the party.
Catching Mattheo in a romantic mood was rare, but it happened. Candles, music, drinks and snacks. He had it all prepared, but it had been a long day and you stayed away a little longer. When you finally did return to your room no apologies for your delay were necessary since Mattheo had fallen asleep. Exhausted yourself you had changed and joined him in your bed. A very sleepy Mattheo welcomed you in his arms. “There’s my pumpkin.” Is all he had muttered, before drifting back to sleep.
The next morning, however, Mattheo cursed himself. He really wanted to spend time with you. You were the first person he had ever loved so intensely and you were like air, he needed you. Frustrated with himself Mattheo decides to get out of bed, but as soon as he leaves you start to move, looking for his warmth. He watches you with adoring eyes and it takes him a moment to notice the sheets have left you rather exposed.
Scanning up your thighs, he bites his lip as his eyes stick to your panties. Really, just that lacy thing between me and your wonderful pussy. Fuck, princess. Gently his fingers move over your legs as he settles between them. He places a featherlight kiss on your bellybutton and looks up to see if you’re still asleep. With his eyes locked on your blissful face his lips brush down from your navel to your panties. As his lips move down, he simultaneously lowers your panties.
You slightly stir in your sleep and your boyfriend looks up at you with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, love, I’m going to be good.” His husky voice soothes you, but a part of you registers his breath on your bare pussy. However, you’re too sleepy to fully process what he’s up to. Now that your panties are low enough you’re finally exposed and Mattheo places a soft kiss on his target. His grip on your thighs thightens, making you more aware of his whereabouts. “Mattheo?” You whine still half asleep, making him smirk. Slowly you’re starting to realize that Mattheo has partly undressed you and your eyes start to flutter.
He’s so horny for you, he feels himself get rock hard and doesn’t waste any more time. His tongue enters you without any teasing, just hunger, and he eagerly presses his face between your legs. Your eyes fling open and your hand instinctively reaches down, grabbing a handful of Mattheo’s hair. You gently tug his curls as your body tenses in reaction to the suddenness of his actions. However, Mattheo ignores your soft grip on his hair and even pushes his face deeper in between your legs, showing you his eagerness. With your mouth slightly agape, the first desperate sounds leave your lips. Instead of tugging on his hair you gently move your fingers over his skull, telling him how well he’s doing. When his tongue starts moving over your sensitive spot you buck your hips his way. “Please.” You manage to whine between moans.
Just hearing your needy voice and tasting you has Mattheo’s dick covered with precum. Gonna have to fucking marry this one. His hands move to your butt, squeezing it like he owns your body. “Mah-Maath.” You try to cry his name but you can’t make a proper sound as you come on his tongue. Mattheo now fully stains his pants as he feels your body tense and relax under his touch. “Was that last sound supposed to be my name?” He chuckles as he wipes his soaked mouth with the back of his hand. You sigh content, exhausted and slightly annoyed with his mockery. He crawls over you and gives you a soft kiss on your cheek. "Good morning, love.” You huff. “Don’t ever do that again.” You breath out, he had you feeling too many emotions at once and you felt like you would never recover. Mattheo looks at you confused, you no doubt enjoyed what he had done, but before he can say anything you wrap your arms around him and pull him close. He answers your non-verbal request for a snuggle and hides his face in the crook of your neck, kissing you.
“I love you.” You say and you feel your boyfriend’s smile on your skin. He pushes himself up to look at you, before kissing tenderly. With his lips still lingering on you, he whispers. “I love you more.”
Lorenzo
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You had told him he was in for a big surprise. You had repeated it just this morning, but his mind hadn’t registered it since it was match day. Now you entered his room and he was vast asleep. So much for waiting up for me. Fine. Your loss Berkshire. You didn’t put in any effort to wake him up, knowing that he would regret falling asleep in the morning when he would notice how little you were wearing.
The next morning a still sleepy Enzo snuggled up to you, his hands roaming around your figure. Suddenly his eyes go wide, pupils dilating. He noticed you were still sleeping, so he carefully moved the sheets to reveal you were only wearing a lace top that left nothing to the imagination and didn’t cover your lower half at all.
Enzo pushes himself up to take in the full view. How did I miss out on this. Lorenzo feels himself get unwell as he forgets to breathe. She’s going to be mad and I’m probably not getting any of this for two weeks. His hand softly traces over your hips and naked ass. His eyes fall from your peaceful sleeping face to your beautiful pussy and his sneaky Slytherin side kicks in. Maybe if I just quickly dig in, like a last meal, she can’t take away that which I’ve already had.
Slightly worried he might get himself in more trouble he chews his lips, but his body is already moving to quietly take position between your legs. Very careful not to wake you he moves under the sheets, not really caring about air, all he needed at the moment was you. Getting more and more eager his hands move over your legs spreading them wider, slightly waking you up. “Enzo?” You whisper as you blink a few times, but before you can fully figure out Enzo’s plan you feel his mouth on your folds. His wet and eager tongue slides over and through your folds, sending shivers down your spine. “Wha-ah are you-?” You whine softly as pleasure washes over you.
“I thought that was obvious.” His teasing words vibrate on your saliva covered pussy and your hands grip tight on the sheets, as your boyfriend immediately continues to work miracles with his mouth. “Oh Merlin.” You say before feeling your body fill with ecstasy. “Come on, baby, move for me.” Enzo demands with a surprising neediness in his voice and you happily oblige softly rocking your hips. His tongue starts working on your clit and he sucks your juices like a starved man. While one hand firmly digs into the flesh of your thigh, he can’t help but snake one hand in his pants. Enzo catches himself quietly moaning against your soaking cunt. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He says like you’re the one that’s to blame for the situation you're both in. You arch your back and your fingers grip tighter on the sheets, he really had no right to complain. You were barely awake and you could already feel your orgasm building up.
“Enzo, I’m so-close.” You moan and you feel Enzo’s grip on you tighten. “Me too.” He breathes and returns to play with your sensitive clit. It’s then that you realise that not only is he fucking you with his tongue he’s also working his hard cock. Your mouth falls open and your moaning gets louder as your thoughts wander to his hard member. You throw your head back and cry out his name loud enough to wake up his friends in the next room. Enzo moves the sheets so he can watch you orgasm as he jerks himself. Aside from your own soaking mess you quickly feel Enzo spilling himself on you. He’s making such a mess of things. But the view of your pretty boyfriend enjoying his own high makes up for a lot.
After a moment he comes down, hovering over you and resting on his elbows. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for falling asleep last night.” He gives you a soft peck on the lips and watches you with a guilty smile. “Also, this is what happens if you don’t wear panties.” You chuckle. “Good morning to you too.”
Theodore
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Your relationship with Theo was still young and even though you immediately felt like you had been together since forever, there were still a few things you weren’t used to, like his appetite for you. He was all about sex, but aside from the main dish he liked to snack as well. At midnight at a party he would drag you to the bathroom and fall on his knees to get under your dress. Or pull you into a broom closet in between classes to get under your skirt. And now as he woke up it was the first thing that came to his mind as well.
Time to get the smartest girl to repeat my name like it’s the only word she knows. “Good morning, gorgeous.” His husky voice whispers in your ear, but it sounds distant since you're still vast asleep. He chuckles when he only gets a soft murmur from you in return. He places a kiss on your shoulder, before moving down and pulling up your shirt to kiss your belly. “Why are you wearing clothes? You know I don’t like that.” You’re slowly waking up, but still manage to mutter something that sounds like his name. “Let's get rid of some.” He announces and quickly works down your shorts and panties.
As soon as your cunt is exposed to him he’s on it. Roughly crashing his lips on your pussy, gripping your thighs. Surprised you jerk away, but immediately feel your hips be pulled back. “I’m busy here.” Theo’s raspy voice warns, before kissing your pussy and sliding his tongue through your folds. “Theodore?” You’re baffled at your boyfriend’s new morning greeting. Had you been dating the wrong guys before or was Theo just one of a kind. He eagerly starts eating you out, pulling your hips into his face. What the fuck. You mouth to the ceiling as your eyes roll back. You can barely wrap your head around what you’re feeling, and this early in the morning.
By now you had figured out what Theo loved so much. It wasn’t just the taste of you, it was you whining his name like a needy girl. So you purposely keep quiet as long as possible. This was clearly starting to frustrate the slytherin as he became rougher. Rocking your hips hard and sucking and licking at your cunt like it was his birthright. Your breaths get unstable and you can no longer keep quiet. You try to tell yourself that no other woman would’ve been able to stay silent as long as you did and give in to the pleasure, moaning. Now Theo has all he wanted, except that you aren’t singing his name yet. He moves your legs wider, making you arch your back and grip your pillow tight. As he starts sucking your clit you get squirmy and he expects his name to roll over your lips any moment now, but you do more than just that. “I love you. Theo, I love you.” You pant and he slows down a little to watch you intensely.
His heart squeezes for a moment at your love confession. His arms sneak up to hold your figure and he moves away from your throbbing and soaked cunt to place a sweet kiss just above your navel. “I love you too.” He admits just above a whisper with his eyes on yours. You bite your lip at the wonderful sight. “Now, be good for me and cum.” His tongue mercilessly works on your sensitive nub and you softly cry his name as your eyes get watery due to all the sensations building up. Your body jerks at your release and you reach for his hand, entangling your fingers with his. You continue to whine his name, enjoying your high, while Theo overstimulates your poor pussy. Only when he decides you’ve both had enough he detaches his mouth and lays down next to you with a blissful smile. “I thought you weren’t a morning person?” You question and roll on your side to watch him, your mind still hazy from your orgasm. He chuckles and his eyes roll to you. “Never had a breakfast like this before.” You hide your smile and snuggle against him.
Blaise
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Blaise wasn’t the jealous type, but apparently his friends had been teasing him about how ridiculously beautiful you were and you complimenting Theodore’s flying skills after the game had flipped a switch in him. He ignored you for an hour and then he took you to his room to prove to you that no other man could please you like he could. Having you cry his name would remind everyone you were his and several orgasms would surely make you forget about Theo’s flying skill. The next morning Blaise wraps his arms around your sleeping figure. “Good morning, love of my life.” You hear him whisper and you smile, but are still too sleepy to respond.
Not satisfied with the lack of response Blaise licks his lips and scans your body. The sheets were barely covering you and the only garment you were wearing was one of his shirts. Truly a sight. I’m so lucky to have her. Blaise bites his lip and slowly hoovers over you. Have to make sure she’ll never think about leaving. He kisses your cheek and his hand pushes up the shirt you’re wearing. “You’re my pretty girl, you know that right?” He whispers and you make a soft sleepy sound, making him chuckle. “Okay, sleepyhead.” His hand gently strokes over your thigh and his eyes sink to your pussy. His thumb softly moves over your folds and you murmur something inaudible. “I love you, princess.” You hear him whisper as you feel his lips brush over your hips and thighs, leaving sloppy kisses near your entrance. Your eyes open and roll to your boyfriend in between your legs. The next moment he looks up to you, you lock eyes with him while his mouth is just an inch removed from your entrance.
“May I?” He asks innocently and your eyes roll back. “Please.” You whine already feeling yourself get wetter at the idea, but still in a sleepy state. Teasingly slow his open mouth brushes over your pussy, earning a whimper from you while part of your brain still isn’t fully awake. This man, what had gotten into him? He had some serious explaining to do. His hand presses on your tummy to keep you from squirming as his tongue makes his way to your sensitive spot rushing a jolt of pleasure through your body. You feel yourself get needy for more of him and softly buck your his, making him smile against your wetness. “So pretty.” His mouth doesn’t leave your folds and he starts moving his face into you with hunger, soaking his mouth and chin with your juices. You softly bite your finger to keep yourself from screaming as you feel yourself closing in on your orgasm. “I’m-“ Your words turn into incoherent moans and your hand grips his hand keeping you in place, making him look up to you as he eats your pussy with shiny eyes. He admires your beauty as you moans fall quiet when you cum for him.
Panting, you come down from your high and watch Blaise crawl over you through hooded eyelids. “What did I do to wake up like this?” You ask through unsteady breaths, making him smirk and kiss you. “Just being my girl.” He pulls you into a hug, letting you enjoy the aftermath of your morning orgasm on his chest.
1K notes · View notes
onlyhuis · 1 year
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leaning on the everlasting arms
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member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe
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as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.
his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.
you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.
you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 
the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.
when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.
you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.
and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.
back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 
more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.
but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.
you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.
you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.
there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.
you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.
but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.
that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 
“joshua?”
“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 
there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?
“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.
you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”
he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”
“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?
he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.
“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”
“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”
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you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.
so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.
you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.
and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 
his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 
your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.
no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.
automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.
your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.
“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.
your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.
“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.
the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—
“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”
you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 
except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.
“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.
he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.
your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.
somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?
he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.
“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 
all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.
“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.
“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!
“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.
apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.
your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.
“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.
you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”
his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.
“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”
“what did you just say?”
you freeze. “what… did i say?”
when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.
you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”
he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”
“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”
he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”
damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.
you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.
“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.
you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”
the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”
“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”
he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”
you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”
“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”
“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.
“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 
you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.
“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.
“yeah,” you say finally.
“are you still touching yourself?”
you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”
and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.
“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”
your mouth falls open. “i–”
“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”
your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.
“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.
“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”
you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”
“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”
you suck in a breath. “yeah?”
“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”
you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.
finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.
“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.
once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.
“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.
you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”
“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.
“yeah?”
“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.
he chuckles. “oh, really?”
“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”
“and why is that, baby?”
the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.
“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”
his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”
“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.
you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.
“that’s not my name.”
you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”
“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.
you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”
“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”
“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.
it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.
“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 
“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.
he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”
“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.
after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.
“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.
with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.
you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.
the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.
“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.
and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”
you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.
a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.
you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.
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it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.
you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.
oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.
he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”
and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.
your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.
you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 
joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.
“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 
“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.
“oh.”
he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”
“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.
his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”
“are you gonna expel me?”
“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”
you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.
he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”
the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.
you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.
luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”
“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”
he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”
you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”
your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.
“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”
his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”
except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.
the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.
“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”
“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.
he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.
it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.
“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.
he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”
you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”
“yes,” you say hurriedly.
he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”
“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”
his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.
he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.
“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.
he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“why don’t you find out?”
he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.
“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.
you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 
you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.
he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 
“always.”
he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."
and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.
you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.
he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 
but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”
your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—
but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.
when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.
“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”
in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.
with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.
he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”
you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”
“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.
“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.
in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.
finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”
you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”
he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.
“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”
his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.
he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.
the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 
“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.
your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.
he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.
your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”
you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”
he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”
you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.
“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.
“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.
“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.
your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.
you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.
he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.
“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”
“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.
he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”
“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.
he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”
you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”
first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?
“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.
“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.
he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”
you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.
“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”
you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.
when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"
he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"
"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."
his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"
you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."
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after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.
he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.
so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.
it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.
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you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.
you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.
he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.
"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"
he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."
"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"
by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."
a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.
"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.
in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.
his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 
your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 
cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."
“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.
his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”
you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 
he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.
with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"
his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"
his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 
he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.
you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.
your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.
his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.
joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.
"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.
his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.
"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.
he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"
you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.
it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."
he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."
he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 
"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.
and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.
the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.
he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."
he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.
"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.
you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.
"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."
you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.
"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 
a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.
his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.
"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.
"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.
"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."
"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.
he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"
you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
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the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”
being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.
you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”
it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.
you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.
everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.
it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.
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