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#you still shouldn't bite them just like that
vagabond-umlaut · 1 day
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toasty
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sometimes, it isn't just the weather which is comfortably warm. sometimes, it can be one person, because of another person, as well.
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gojo satoru x fem!reader; pre-relationship; gojo is a menace; you're a miniature circuit breaker; gojo calls you 'cookie'; mentions of food; i repeat: gojo is a MENACE; 610 wc; *empties a big container labelled 'fluff' into this fic*
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be treated as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
divider by @/benkeibear; pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this; jjk isn't mine
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"do you like that dress?"
you shouldn't look this surprised, no. hell no.
you know gojo's been sitting beside you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. and you know he has a rather sharp set of eyes, with or without his 'six eyes' activated— yet you do look surprised. terribly so— and the man wonders, what made you think he would not notice you staring at the bright piece of cloth in the shop window.
particularly when you've left your favourite ice cream on the brink of melting and falling on your uniform— not that it'll make it any dirtier though; the curses from before have done a splendid job of it...
stealing a bite from your cone, gojo plops back into his seat. the grin threatening to bloom on his lips wilts when he sees the surprise turn into something shocked, maybe even scandalised in your features— eyes wider, brows higher, lower jaw hanging lower...
he lets the grin form anyway. "what? your ice cream was melting— i cannot let the money i spent to buy it, go to waste now, can i?"
you snap your mouth close in less than an instant. then open it again to take quite a large bite from your ice cream, brows scrunching and eyes screwing close— the brain freeze gojo was in wait for, for you to suffer from, never comes.
you take a second bite, even bigger.
some part of him shrivels, disappointed— before it swells up again, at the narrowed-eye look you send his way— before it dries up a second time, when your gaze returns to the dress from before.
the fabric looks extremely dull to the sorcerer now. he kicks your leg under the table. biting back a grin when you look back at him, lips in an annoyed little frown.
although it doesn't take too long to become a smile. tired, yes. but a fond one all the same— you've always been too soft to him, haven't you?
he repeats his ask, "do you like that dress?"
"i..." your gaze drops to your ice cream for a beat. then rises. a warmth settles into your cheeks, visible and adorable. "i kind of like that dress. it looks pretty." a beat. your lips part in a tentative smile. "what do you think, gojo-san? will i look good in it?"
the addressed man pauses.
but it is not because he has to decide on an answer— the answer is a yes. a resounding yes— still, he doesn't find the voice to say the word, the monosyllable repeated over and over and over again in his brain—
"you always look beautiful to me, cookie. no matter what you wear."
the shocked, scandalised expression makes a return to your face, not a moment later than when the words leave his mouth.
only to be shoved away when you attempt to take such a huge bite of your melting ice cream, the chocolate chip treat ends up caking a big portion of the lower half of your face— from your nose and extending till your chin.
gojo doesn't bother to hold back his laughter this time— its loudness increasing at the resulting wrinkle in your nose when he reaches over to scoop up a bit of the mess with his fingers, then licks it off them—
"you're a disgusting man," you mutter, voice so mortified and frail as your gaze keeps jumping from his hand to his blindfolded eyes.
something curls up inside the sorcerer. the sensation growing worse, growing better, the longer he stares at this precious little face you've made:
"and you're a cookie— my choco chip cookie!"
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the reader is an mcb— reasons for which, i hope, u all hv understood by now 🤭🤭
masterlist
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httpshujii · 2 days
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WHAT A TEASE !
Kaeya x f!reader
ᯓ Kaeya's new obsession.
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"Never had your first kiss?"
He already knew that. But in order not to embarrass you further than you already look, he won't tease about it just yet.
But this is Kaeya that we're talking about. He'll find a way to tease you sooner rather than later.
He's relishing in the sight of you, all shy and nervous in front of him. Nimble fingers fiddling with your sleeve. And there he sits with that stupid smirk on his face, an eye tracing his sweet lover's face.
He's aware of how different this whole situation is for you. This is your first relationship, relying on ink on paper to teach you about a world of hopeless romantics and affection.
But it's very different in the real world. Books don't teach you how to adapt into relationships. Books don't teach you how to kiss or hug or cuddle. It came so naturally in fantasies but why is it so hard in reality?
The inner turmoil raging inside you is left unanswered. It shouldn't be that hard, right? It's just a kiss…
Sensing your troubles, Kaeya reaches for your hands and pulls you in between his legs, "What ails you, my love?"
You shake your head, dismissing his concern. But Kaeya is persistent, nothing should bother your mind, he wouldn't allow it.
"Come on, speak to me, you know you can," he watches you blush, a small smile gracing his lips, "you're shyer than usual."
His tone is playful, boyish. Teasing. His fingers lace with yours, dragging his gaze down to your nibbled lips, he doesn't it like it when you bite on them, that's his job.
You don't speak, he tilts his head, "Do you want me to kiss you?"
You nod your head, not daring to meet his studying eye.
"Do you want me to teach you?"
Another nod and he stands up, towering over you.
"Can't say I'll make it easy though," he chuckles, leaning down to press a loud smooch to your cheek. You're so cute. So innocent, "my precious girl, so adorable, hm?"
Another kiss to your cheek and you're practically fuming. Smoke escaping your ears as your cheeks burning bright with heat.
His kisses near your mouth and you hesitantly tilt away, he giggles, enjoying this a little too much. He lifts your arms around his neck, his cold hands sliding down to squeeze the plush of your waist.
"We'll take it nice 'n slow, just mold your lips against mine…" he whispers against your lips, pressing his to yours so gently. So slowly it feels dangerously scandalous. But just as he kisses you, he pulls away to whisper unnecessary instructions and praises when all you want is a proper kiss.
"Mmm, that's it."
"Tilt your head a little- yes…good girl."
"My love, you're doing so well."
You're shivering with emotion, you're anxious, frustrated, and excited at the same time. But the only indication is a whine that leaves your throat, "you're being mean, Kaeya."
"Do you really think that?" Yes. And he thinks so to. He's being mean, being the biggest tease ever. You nod, he laughs. Kissing your pouty lips, "How so, darling?"
You don't want to say why. It's embarrassing and makes you feel like the ultimate fool. You don't want to say that he's pulling away too quickly, and you don't want him to laugh at you and poke at you for being paranoid.
You know how he is by now. Though still fresh in the relationship, you'd expect him to have a heart towards a first-timer, no? You huff, pulling your face away and frowning. You should probably tell him why. But you won't.
With a frustrated sigh, you squish his face between your hands and latch your lips with his. He's surely caught of guard with the way his hands squeeze your hips tightly. But he doesn't pull away, wouldn't dare to.
His girl made the first move, and you aren't like him. You aren't a tease, you really want this and it's only proper to respect that. Your kiss is eager, passionate, loving. Not similar to his slow, romantic, and casual kisses.
He's dumbfounded, you're expressing an unspoken love towards him, affection that feels familiar despite only dating for two weeks now. He realized early on that it doesn't feel right to not have his hands on you in any given time, he notices the way his fingers twitch during random times of the day, opting to squeeze his hand around his sword's handle to ease the fantasy of squeezing your sides to make you laugh.
He finds himself leaning into you, succumbing to the strong temptation of your desperation. You part for a second, noses bumping into each other oceans collide once again.
Kaeya loves kissing you. It's his new obsession, his new way to pass the time. He could kiss you every second of the day if he could. You taste so good, too good.
After what feels like forever, your hearts relax, yours lips part, and your foreheads meet.
"I like it when you take the lead." He muses.
"And I don't."
He kisses you again, softer than the first. Handling you with care. He won in love. Your first relationship and kiss owned by him and him alone. And he'll own many other firsts to come.
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@kaiser1ns @okkalo
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defectivehero · 2 days
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Hello! If ur requests are open, I'd love to see a villain or hero trying to break down the walls of their enemy, who's whole purpose is to be a tool. Denied everything for the sake of a single goal, a mere sacrifice, destined to die :)
this ask is so peko pekoyama & izuru kamakura coded. and i love it so much. warnings: manipulation, child abuse, graphic depictions of injury/violence/blood, dehumanization
"Ah, you're awake," the villain realizes aloud, looking at the hero. "I was hoping to get some answers from you."
The hero is silent. They look surprisingly calm, despite the situation they find themself in: bound to a chair, a blindfold secured around their eyes. They don't look unnerved, startled; there's no emotion in their expression—no modicum of energy or presence to denote them as even remotely human.
Admittedly, this hero has intrigued the villain, ever since the moment they met. The hero had moved with a mechanical precision, and the villain was surprised to find that their precision extended to every other facet of their life. There is no boundary between work and personal life for the hero—because they simply don't have a personal life. At least, that's what the villain has found. They'd love to be proven wrong at this point—would love to be proven wrong about their lingering suspicions regarding the cruelty of the local hero agency.
"What did you want to ask about?" The hero asks, as if they are the one controlling the conversation. And maybe they are. The villain blinks, thrown back into reality.
"Why are you...?" The villain tries to say. They're not quite sure how to proceed. They take a slow breath and start pacing around the hero, hoping to quell their restless energy. They are the one in control. "No. What did the agency do to you?"
"Why do you care?" The hero hums. There isn't a denial of any kind—"They didn't do anything to me" wasn't a response. The villain's stomach stews in unease.
"Answer the question," the villain demands.
"Very well," the hero answers carefully.
In hindsight, the villain should've braced themself for the answer. They were so focused on the question that they neglected to prepare themself for the nearly infinite amount of possibilities—unspeakably cruel possibilities. They're suddenly grateful that they blindfolded the hero—grateful that the hero won't be able to see their expression. Because what they say next breaks the villain’s composure.
"I was seven when it happened… My powers manifested. I didn't know how to use them. It was bound to happen."
"...What was bound to happen?" The villain hears themself say. Their voice sounds like a stranger’s.
"I was kidnapped walking home from school. One moment, there was a sharp pain on the back of my head; the next, I woke up to a glass cage and a manacle secured around my ankle."
The villain is biting the inside of their cheek so hard they can taste blood. They shouldn't be surprised, but they are.
"I didn't know where I was or what was happening. I was just a child." The hero continues. The villain wants to think that there's a trace of emotion in the hero's voice after the latter statement, but they get the feeling it's just their imagination.
"For a while, I was alone. I don't know how long. I tried to summon my powers, but they still weren't under control. I nearly killed myself in my attempt to escape.
"Then, someone visited. It was a man in a dark suit. He unlocked the cage, or manipulated it, I can't remember—and walked up to me. There was a glass of water in his hand. I was so thirsty.
"I was too young to know any different, too young to question what was clearly a kind gesture. I took a sip... My vision spiraled and I fell to the ground.
"I woke up on an operating table, with people staring down at me through advanced medical equipment. Tears were slipping down my cheeks, from the brightness of the lights above. Someone secured a mask on my face. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't move.
"I woke up on the floor of my cage, in a pool of my own blood. There was a giant wound on my forearm, leaking pus. I dry-heaved over and over again. Nothing came up.
"I got a lot of visitors after that. It was clear that they did something to me. Suddenly, I was getting meals three times a day, books and video games to keep me busy... I must've been eight or nine years old at that point—old enough to understand that I was nothing more than a lab rat."
It takes them several moments for the villain to find their voice. "...And then?" They manage to ask. They stopped pacing minutes ago—now they're standing across from the bound hero.
"Then I was trained," the hero says. "Brought to the brink of my exhaustion over and over again, day after day. Months passed, then years... like granules of sand slipping through my fingers."
"I was soon trusted to participate in missions. I didn't know what was happening, why I was fighting who I was fighting. All I knew... was the hollowness in my chest and the commands inscribed on my mind itself."
The villain is silent. They don't trust themself to speak—they know their voice would break, betraying their thoughts.
At some point, the hero is the one to break the silence. They tilt their head to the side slightly, leveling the villain with what they can assume to be a curious gaze under the blindfold. "Why have you captured me? Do you hope to rehabilitate me?"
"It won't work," the hero says before the villain can answer. Somehow, they've ascertained that their capture was motivated by that exact desire: the wish for rehabilitation, the visceral need to do something good for someone other than themself. "They have broken me beyond repair." The hero's voice is hollow.
"Everyone can be fixed," the villain responds.
"But I am not a person. I am just a shell, an empty husk. An amalgamation of observations on human behavior, with no memories, no passions, no opinions. I don't even have a name."
Somehow, this is what breaks them. Somehow, the villain survived the onslaught of horrible information, suffered through the retelling of dehumanizing events and cruelty beyond measure. Yet this is what breaks them: the hero does not have a name. A name: a concept so simple. Even animals have names—they are ascribed names by humans. What does it say that this person has no name? They have been deemed lower than humans, lower than animals. They are merely a tool. A weapon.
The villain's thoughts are spiraling. They feel themself moving before they can stop. They robotically break the distance between the two of them, until they're standing over the hero. The hero must sense their proximity, but they do not respond—do not even flinch or move. The villain bites the inside of their cheek hard and begins untying the ropes around the hero's limbs.
"What are you doing?" The hero asks. They sound vaguely surprised. But the villain is nearly certain it’s just an act.
"Leave," the villain demands, their hands shaking ever so slightly as they finish freeing the hero. "Go."
There's a brief flicker of emotion on the hero's face—a quick flash of complete, utter confusion. It happens so fast that the villain can just barely comprehend it, can just barely grasp that the hero may, deep down, have the freedom to express genuine emotion. But as quick as it appears, the confusion is gone: smoothed over by an infuriatingly blank slate.
The villain watches the hero leave. The moment the door clicks shut, the bile on their tongue rises and they dry-heave. They cough and take deep breaths, feeling their throat burn with more than just acid. Unshed tears linger in their eyes, in the back of their throat.
Is the hero past saving? More importantly, do they even want to be saved?
The villain rubs a hand over their face and walks back to the wooden chair where the hero sat moments ago, kicking it over in a rush of pure frustration. It slides across the floor with a horrible screeching noise.
The villain is overcome with an intense desire to do something rather uncharacteristic: they want to free the hero from the agency's chains. And, hell, it's not out of a foolish desire to do something good. Not anymore. Somewhere, deep down, the villain wants the person they just spoke to—who has only known cruelty—to be given a chance to truly live.
It's ironic. The villain has been fighting heroes for years, unaware that the real evil has been under their nose this entire time. Because, while the heroes may be purveyors of justice, the nature of that "justice" is determined by the agency. It's the agency that contributes to the systemic oppression running rampant in their city, it's the agency that manufactures people and turns them into weapons.
The villain clenches their restless hands at their sides. It seems they have to make a slight change to their plans.
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. reblogs are greatly appreciated—just please don't steal my writing or share outside of Tumblr.
i can't tell if i'm happy with how this turned out or not. i feel like the ending kind of sucks, but whatever. it is what it is.
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darkbluekies · 12 hours
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I feel like I need to show that I am not only writing psychopaths and can also write normal, protective characters lmao
I will share 2 of my private novels with you, translated. The names are shortened so that I don't expose them, because I kinda want to keep them private for the future hehe (probably forgot a few places but oh well)
I will show the mood board for the story and a profile I've made for the characters to help you visualize them better (helps me when writing too haha)
Story 1
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"Do you want to go out? You haven't been out much, have you?”
HG shook his head. Fresh air could do him good, he thought, but he knew he shouldn't go out alone. If BN was there, it would probably be okay. BN patted his skinny knee twice.
"Good, then we're going out," he decided and stood up. "Wait here. Do you need your cane, do you think?”
“No, I have the IV stand.”
Without answering anything, BN disappeared into the hall, first up the stairs, then down and then away in the narrow corridor to the kitchen and dining room. HG sat in silence, waiting for him to return, which he did five minutes later, wearing his brown coat and HG's beige jacket hanging over his arm. He gestured with his hand for HG to stand up.
"Come on then," he said.
HG pulled himself up from his chair and followed BN out into the hall. BN slung HG'S jacket over his shoulders and frowned at the hose dangling from HG'S left hand. HG pulled his right arm into the sleeve and let his other arm hang free.
“This works,” he said.
"Don't you think you're going to get cold?" BN wondered.
HG shook his head. BN opened one of the double doors, holding it open so HG could get out with his IV stand. The small wheels got stuck in the uneven planks of the porch. Frustrated, HG pried them free and sighed heavily.
"If it sticks here, it'll stick everywhere," HG muttered, biting his lower lip in frustration.
“Should I carry it for you?” BN wondered.
“No, I got it.” HG took another hold and carried it down the stone porch steps. He groaned as he put his feet down on the gravel yard. Anything but hard wood floors were foreign to him. Hesitantly, he took a few tentative steps forward. HG looked away towards the lake and the dark forest.
“Can we go there?” he asked, pointing away towards the fir trees. “Into the woods?”
"Sure," BN replied. “Has it been a long time since you were in a forest?”
HG nodded and swallowed a sad sigh. He had loved to climb trees, had known how to place his feet so as not to fall. It was just that day…
He let BN guide him past the eye-like lake. The reeds near the edges stretched up to the sky.
The ground inside the forest was wet. What HG'S IV stand didn't get stuck on, he tripped over himself. BN took a firm grip on HG'S right arm, not hard enough to hurt him, but a grip strong enough to catch him in case he fell. Few red, yellow and green leaves hung desperately on their branches, as if they knew they would soon be killed and replaced by spring. The sunlight did not reach down to the ground
"I used to see the woods from my bedroom window," said HG, letting his eyes take in the sights around him. "I saw the seasons change from a distance ... it's another thing to see it up close."
“Quite beautiful.”
HG nodded in agreement. There was something youthful about the forest in autumn.
"I have an idea where we can go," BN suggested, nodding towards the fir trees. “I saw a clearing not far from here.”
“Is it within the territory?”
"I didn't see a fence, anyway."
HG couldn't help laughing. "Adequate. Come on, lead the way, then.”
BN took him to an open field where no man had sown, but where there was still tall, yellow grass. The sun beamed down on them. HG squinted up at the sky. BN took off his brown coat and spread it out on the grass. He gestured for HG to sit down. They disappeared into the grass, the only thing still visible was the stand rising above.
"Nice fresh air," BN sighed, resting his head back. He rolled his eyes. “I needed it after that card game. [other character] does not play nice, I can tell you that.”
"Or you're not good enough," said HG teasingly.
BN opened one of his brown eyes and squinted at him with a crooked smile. “I'm fucking phenomenal at card games, how dare you? You and I will play some day and I will teach you not to underestimate me.”
“You must have had a lot of training on the ice anyway. Did you play a lot of card games at home? With your friends?”
BN fell silent. He sat up and hid his hands in his pockets. HG frowned.
"What?" he asked confused. "What is it?"
"I had a card game, but we didn't play very often," BN muttered, squirming, as if trying to get out of his own skin. His voice sounded quieter, almost sad. "That's not what we ... we did."
"'We'?"
BN sighed, seemed to be searching for the right words. His eyes remained downcast. “I'm so glad I came here, HG. And that I got to meet you and the others. You are so different from my friends back in town.”
He brought out his trembling hands. HG remembered how they had been covered in scabs and wounds the first time he had shaken hands with BN. The wounds had healed by now, but the marks of violence still remained.
"I didn't want to tell you, I'm ashamed."
He fell silent again. HG said nothing, not wanting to disturb his thoughts.
"At home, in town, I wasn't very nice," BN continued, shaking his head in despair. “I got into a lot of fights. I didn't know what to do … I didn't want to continue … so I came here.”
HG suddenly felt a pair of strong arms around him, and a warm cheek against his shoulder. He tilted his head towards BN'S and glanced down at his hands.
"Why didn't you want to tell me earlier?" HG wondered.
"I didn't mean to scare you away," BN replied quietly. “I thought you'd be uncomfortable if you knew. You don't like violence.”
“No, I don't, but you don't have to worry about that. That's just stupid.”
BN let go of him and hugged his legs. He smiled sheepishly.
"It feels better now," he laughed briefly. “When I get home, I will stop being with them. I know how I want to be now. With you I can only ... sit. We don't have to do anything. We can just sit and talk. I like it."
HG smiled weakly. He'd never thought he'd have a friend—not someone like BN, anyway. The fear of losing him haunted HG every time he was alone.
BN took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, fished out a narrow cylinder.
"You really should stop that," said HG.
"I have!" BN smiled proudly and shrugged. "In almost all cases. I barely smoke anymore, but I need to calm my nerves after this.”
He lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips, drew in a breath and blew out gray, foul-smelling smoke. HG waved his hand in front of them, trying desperately to part the smoke. BN took a sandwich wrapped in a paper out of his pocket and held it out to HG.
“Here,” he said. “I brought it to you.”
“Is this some kind of bribery?” HG grinned weakly and accepted the sandwich, unfolding the paper carefully. "So that I won't complain about your smoke?"
"No, because you haven't eaten anything today."
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Story 2
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They showed their tickets and identification papers to a man dressed in a black suit who studied the papers carefully. Finally he nodded and stepped aside. OL pushed GS forward first, and then TN.
"Don't push me, I can walk myself," she grumbled.
The compartment had about twenty hard, dirty wooden benches in a row, divided into four-seaters. OL frowned at the stench that had spread, despite half the windows being open. The train began to shake and OL had to grab the wall to keep from falling forward. They made their way through the center aisle until they found an empty bench. It was only built for two, so OL lifted GS onto her lap and wrapped her arms tightly around her slim waist. The nine-year-old amused herself by leaning his head out of the window and feeling the wind in his hair. She laughed and turned her twinkling eyes on OL before popping her head out the window again.
OL turned to TN who looked up from her lap doubtfully. She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers.
"What is it?" OL asked, leaning closer. "Are you okay?"
"Why is everyone staring?" TN whispered so quietly that OL doubted she had said anything. “Did I do something?”
OL bit down and let her eyes wander over the compartment. She was filled with that incomprehensible feeling again. The men in the compartment were like animals, like the magister. They shared the same dark, burning gaze that seemed to shamelessly burn away her clothes. TN didn't understand yet, she didn't understand how beautiful she really was and OL didn't want to tell her.
OL gesticulates for GS to jump to the floor and quickly switched places with TN, shoving her towards the window.
"But I want to look!" GS complained.
"You can still look," reminded OL. "By the way, maybe you shouldn't hang out the window, it could be dangerous."
TN gave her a small, grateful smile which OL returned warmly. She turned her gaze towards the center aisle and glared at those who dared to glance in their direction.
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Text
Disaster. Part 2. —Joao Felix.
summary: second part of disaster.
warnings: YES. +18. smut. unprotected sex, some choking kink, cursing, role play.
words count: +1.9k.
tag: @yourknightinshiningarm-or
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Yes. It was too late.
Kissing him had not been a good idea, it was clear. Nothing had been a good idea. Not the date, not having him bring you home, not letting him touch you, not kissing him in the first place.
It had all been a disaster. You shouldn't have listened to your friend. Now there were consequences and the consequences were going to eat away at your head for life but you couldn't help but run back to him and kiss him desperately before you locked yourself in your house.
Damn. You couldn't even think about it when he himself also ran to you and took you in his arms. You had missed his touch, his mouth, his warmth so much. You hated him so much. So much that every time you felt him near you, you wanted him to take you right there.
Your body longed for his touch, the fire in your chest could only be quenched by Joao, the thirst you had could only be quenched by him.
His kisses were going to your neck when he slammed you against the door of your own house, moans escaping your lips like desperate cries. And yet he hadn't really touched you yet. You were desperate. His hands moved across your belly, back and ass, they went back and forth, they couldn't stay still.
You wanted to hit yourself, to curse yourself, to scold yourself. But you were enjoying his mouth, you were lost in the feeling of pleasure and power. Everything had been a disaster from the beginning, at least you wanted to have some reward at the end.
You took his hand guiding him to your couch and with your arm you pushed him until he fell onto the cushions. His eyes were a jet black with a special glow that made you bite your lip, his mouth swollen and red and his body tense and needy for you. It made you feel powerful. You climbed on top of him, taking his jaw to kiss him. Hard and hot. Just like he was underneath you. Needy.
Your legs were at his sides and when his hands slipped into your shirt, you gasped as you felt his cool fingers caress your skin. He caught your lips as one of his hands went to your chest and squeezed it making you cry out in his kiss. On the fabric of your lace bra, he played with your nipple, giving it little deep touches, which drew moans from your throat. He had power over you too. And he knew how to show it.
His lips become like an addiction for you, you can't stop kissing him, his sweet taste has you cloying and you feel like you'll die to have them. His hands grab the hem of your shirt and lift it up your arms, so you help him take it off. Within seconds his fingers are on the clasp of your bra and he hurriedly removes it. His gaze focuses on your breasts and you try to cover them with an embarrassed look but he stops you and looks at you.
You have never felt ashamed of your body but with Joao it was different. It always was. Now you are an adult but deep inside you are still that teenager who lost her virginity to the same man who is touching her and vague memories come back to your mind.
Fuck him. You don't have to be ashamed of anything, so you gain confidence and show him that you've matured too. That you are not the same girl you were before, the one who let him take a part of you and break you. You want to forget about that Joao, the immature teenager who treated you like just another one and you want to enjoy this new Joao for your own pleasure. You can do it, you can also enjoy without feelings.
His mouth goes to your breast and when his lips take your nipple, you squeal holding his hair tightly. His tongue works wonders on your nipple while his fingers squeeze the other one free.
The wiggling in your hips seeks friction as you moan his name over and over, you are eager to feel him inside you, so much so that you can feel your wet heat soaking your underwear. Joao's bulge beneath your center makes you gasp. There are no words to describe what is happening, you can't find the ideas in your head to think.
The clothes on your body end up lying somewhere in your living room, your hands can't get enough when it comes to touching each other, your voices moan in tandem as you sit. Your body is on top of his at every moment, as you kiss, as you touch, as you look at each other.
He himself helps you settle on top of his lap preparing you to position yourself on top of him, you grasp the base of his cock and line it up at your entrance, stroking it a little on your wet lips, making you both gasp loudly. His gaze meets yours and he holds you tight as you sink into him, moaning as you feel his hard and hot cock opening up room in your tight walls. The connection between his eyes gives off pure sparkles that light up the atmosphere, gasps beginning to sound as he continues to try to settle inside you.
Your hands rest on his shoulders as his hands help you move over him. The movements are relaxed at first, taking time to feel, to enjoy, his lips placing small kisses on your neck, chest and breasts as you move up and down on his cock, holding onto his muscular shoulders. The sensation leaves you lost in a world apart, you can't see clearly, the atmosphere feels suffocating, so much so that you can smell the fluids of your bodies, making it more exciting.
Your voices sound in unison, moaning as the movements become harder and faster. You pull away from his mouth as the pressure in your belly begins to grow, you stretch your body backwards helping to support yourself with your hands on his knees as you continue to jump on top of Joao, who with his hand runs down your body, starting from your lower belly, up your belly and chest, until he anchors himself on your neck.
You let out a cry as his hand wraps around your neck, exerting a little pressure, making you explore a pleasure you've never felt before.
"That's it baby, move" he gasps at your intense frenzy.
You bite your lip so hard you feel the metallic taste in your mouth and squeal again and again as his hands press on your soft spots.
Damn it. Your vision blurs, your ears are dazed and the air starts to go out of your lungs. Your legs start to burn from the exhaustion of riding him but you can't stop not when you're so close to climaxing.
"Fuck, Joao, i'm going to come..." you scream moving even faster, so close to your orgasm.
"Hold on a little longer, baby" he asks at your near tremors.
You do your best to hold on, stopping your movements a little to settle back into him, your chest are pressed against each other and you feel his hands on your back, hugging you.
Your movements are slow, torturous, he is suffering, you can see it in his eyes. You want to make him understand that you have the power and that if he wants to come with you he has to give you something in return.
"Kiss me, baby" he says teasingly, panting but enduring your torture.
You try to hold on but you know you won't last long, you need it, you need to explode.
"I hate you, Joao Felix" you spit so close to his mouth you can feel him smile over your lips.
He opens his mouth to receive you but you don't kiss him, you just stand there, brushing his lips against yours as you start to vehemently jump on top of him again. You can't hold back as your walls begin to contract, as his cock feels so good inside you. Your movements are erratic, unrestrained.
You scream as your orgasm hits your center but Joao's lips take over to take your mouth and shut you up long enough, starting to kiss you fiercely. You feel his penetrations start to become violent, desperate to reach his spot as well and it's a matter of seconds when you feel his liquid spill out of you. Juices begin to drip down your thighs as his mouth continues to kiss yours. Your body feels weak, dazed and shaky, you fall limp in his lap, holding onto his hard chest.
You both lie there, Joao still inside you, as you try to regulate your breaths and settle your thoughts. Your chest rise and fall as his hands caress your lower back, warming you.
You have so many things to say, so many things to think but you can't move from there. Every second that passes you long for Joao more and you don't want to let go.
You were a disaster, literally.
The blind date was a disaster but at least you ended up fucking like the gods, now you feel it was worth everything. You're still mad at him though, you want to hit him and curse him but you want him to fuck you non-stop. Joao had always had that effect on you.
You really hated everything about him.
So much that you couldn't stop thinking about kissing him.
«Damn you, Joao»
He had turned you into a disaster.
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kiwiplaetzchen · 2 months
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no thoughts, just kiwis 🩷🥝💚
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They look adorable!! 💚
Thank you so much!!! 💚💕🥹
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uncanny-tranny · 7 months
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If you mess with somebody's mobility/life-preserving aid and all you got was yelled at by the disabled person in question, just know you got off easy. Fucking with somebody's aid can easily become a matter of life-or-death, so you have to understand why somebody would "lash out" about that.
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hollow-prey · 6 months
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I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm n-
#dumb#ellie rambles#*bites my phone and vigorously shakes head back and forth like a dog*#I KNOW it doesn't matter I know it's silly and the only canon I should care about is my own#I know multiple timelines/stories/etc. can coexist peacefully with my own self ship ideas#and yet here I am. taking psychic damage over the mere thought of these two previously dating or getting back together#pain. agony even. petty stupid envy at its finest.#like I was already Suffering slightly when I first played the route and learned they were exes#because my brain can't let me have anything nice and thus cranked up the insecurity#making me think 'he really wants to get back together with ____ he wouldn't actually like you'#or 'even though this is a dating sim you are somehow going to blow your chance and they're going to get together again anyway'#which is why I'm also terrified to play the other routes in case they DO get back together in one of them which will kill me on sight#but for the most part I could cope while playing bc I was getting fun indulgent moments in my chosen route#then I open up the app the other day and get hit with a promo ad for modern AU. with art of the two of them being cute and Clearly Together#the app forces me to see it with my own two eyes before I close it out. and there's no option to mute the pop up next time I log in#and again I KNOW it's silly and I'm overreacting and canon is fairly relative in this game#hell multiple timelines/stories/canons etc. exist in it by design. your canon is based on whoever you choose to pursue#but to me all of them are still canon on some level whether you play through them or not#which means those two are out there in their own canon universe waiting to strike me down. just standing there. MENACINGLY.#it's truly the smallest deal possible and I shouldn't let it bother me because multiverse but also RRRRR GET AWAY FROM ME
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scara-writes · 22 days
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paramour
Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant
I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).
The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.
CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.
I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.
Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.
"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.
"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.
Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.
You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.
You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.
The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from alcohol after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.
"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.
Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.
You didn't hide Everett to your husband.
What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?
Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."
So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?
Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.
"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?
You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.
You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You saw Everett's face was frowning too. "Fine, tell him I'll be there." You announced to the butler. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and find your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.
Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."
His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"
You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"
Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"
He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.
The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.
You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.
You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."
You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.
The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.
His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."
You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.
"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.
Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.
"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"
You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging hus presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"
"(Y/n)."
"Yes, husband?"
His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?
"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not." L
"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.
"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.
There was silence between the room.
"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.
You scoff standing up, "I think I had my fill..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.
"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.
He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.
"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.
Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.
"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"
"..."
"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.
When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.
"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.
Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went rub your back.
If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.
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k-hotchoisan · 1 month
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body language
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<yunho x fem!reader>
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well, pining after your brother’s fucking attractive best friend isn’t a sin if he doesn’t know right? nobody has to know.
nobody has to know that you're lodged in his fantasies when the nights deepen.
nobody has to know what happens when you're forced to share a room with Yunho.
Genre/Warnings: smut, big dick! X Perverted! Yunho, unprotected sex, low key corruption kink, mutual pining, cream pies, fingering, orgasms, overstimulation, oh no they are forced to share a room!, sexual tension, dirty talk
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee
🩷 back to staying perverted
A/N: send me to jail for being so inactive TT I know life happens and I shouldn't apologise for going mia for a bit but I still feel so bad! Nonetheless, please continue giving my works as much love as you all always do, and that ya'll are my source of motivation. Thank you for waiting ❤️
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Undoubtedly, it’s either your brother has good taste in making friends, or you just have interesting taste in men, because out of all men you had a crush on, it had to be the one closest to your brother—Jeong Yunho. Something about him made your heart flutter uncontrollably. Maybe it was the way he would lean in towards you when he wanted to whisper something in your ear, keeping your brother an arm’s length while his voice tickled perfectly as it reverberates in your brain. Maybe it was the way he would hold your stare for a couple of seconds before his pretty smiles spreads across his lips, as if he was keeping a secret that he wants to tell you. Maybe it was the way he would bump his arm against yours when he wants to ally with you to piss your brother off. 
Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that the feelings you had for him were growing exponentially. How you managed to keep said feelings in bay was a mystery. You could attribute it to knowing Yunho for as long as you did. Maybe he treated everyone nice and politely like that. It was hard not to keep your hopes up sometimes and it really made you frustrated. 
“A chalet?” You repeat. “What’s the occasion?” 
“Just a weekend out”, your brother replies. “A couple of friends will be coming. You know them, including Yunho.”
“Are you going?” Yunho suddenly asks. 
You break eye contact with Yunho, going back to your phone. “No. I’m going on a date.”
Yunho’s eyes widen. There is a flash of panic that flickers in his eyes. His words spill out of him before he realises it. 
“With who? How come I didn’t know?” 
You cast a confused glance at him. “Why would you need to know?”
That was when Yunho realises, and he simmers down, going back to hiding behind his phone screen. He bites his tongue, hoping you nor your brother ha caught on. But thankfully, no one else questions him. In fact, your brother doubles down.
“Yeah, you didn’t tell me?” Your brother echos. 
“As if you’re interested in my love life”, you playfully retort, rolling your eyes before you disappear into your room, before Yunho starts to hear your heartbeat right in your ears again. 
Yunho stares blankly at his phone, still processing that you’ll be going on a date. Something sits uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He’s running his brain, thinking of a million ways to make you cancel the date, half of it under the pretence of your brother. How could he do it without making it obvious? 
“And why would I cancel my date, Jeong Yunho?” You ask, your arms crossed. For some reason, your brother and Yunho were suddenly way too interested in your date. Especially Yunho. He would not get off your back about it. 
“It’s dangerous? Who knows he might be a serial killer!” He was really dramatic about too, might you add. 
You scoff, and an amused smile tugs the corner of your lips, as your hand reaches out to pat his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Yun. You’re on my speed dial if anything happens okay?” 
For a moment, you feel his gaze piercing right into you, as if time didn’t exist—the both of you caught in between each other’s gazes, Yunho looking like he wants to say something, but he stops himself. You quickly break the eye contact, remembering that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that Yunho is just being as worried as your brother. Nothing more than that. Yunho wants to hold the gaze longer. He almost wants to break the imaginary boundaries then both of you set, but he snaps into to reality when he watches you leave, his voice trapped in his throat. 
Fuck. Looks like he’s the one losing now. 
It doesn’t help that during that night, you slip into his dreams, and instead of you leaving, he has your face in his hands, and your lips are on his. He feels you in your entirety, and you feel so fucking good pressed against him. Yunho wants so badly to mark every part of you, to remind you he could do so much better than whoever you’re supposedly going out with. He could kiss you better, fuck you better. Then it switches—to you in front of him, your ass bouncing off his cock, loud smacks echoing from the walls as he sinks into your pussy with a broken sigh.
That’s when he fucking jolts awake, warm fluids streaming down his thighs, as he swallows an imaginary mass in his throat because what the fuck just happened? He stares blankly at the white ceiling of his room, mind as blank. 
How fucked is he?
Yunho reaches to the doorstep of the chalet, almost close to midnight. Dance practice had bleed past the time, later than he thought. He greets his friends at the barbecue pit, still grilling chicken and seafood, stealing a stick and getting playfully hit before he enters the chalet itself. 
Your brother sat there, comfortable with his girlfriend’s legs crossed over his lap as they had joycons in their hands, playing some kind of co-op game together. His friend turns to him, before his eye dart back to the screen once he acknowledges Yunho, much too engrossed with the level he and his girlfriend was at. 
“Your room’s to the left of the stairs. I hung your lanyard there”, your brother says, before his attention goes right back to the game. For a spilt second, he suddenly remembers that he wanted to tell Yunho something, something important, but when his girlfriend squeals at clearing the level, the thought is completely erased from his memory.
Yunho climbs up the stairs, pushes the door open, and completely stops in his tracks as his gaze locks with yours. You’re seated on the bed, relaxed and on your phone until the door suddenly pushes open, and Yunho stands there, looking as bewildered as you. 
There is a long moment of silence between the both of you. 
“Can I help you, Yunho?” You break it. 
“No…isn’t this my room?” Yunho clarifies. You glance around and shrug. 
Yunho drops his bag, his heart beating loudly in his chest. 
His eyebrows furrow, confusion sprawled across his face. 
“Hold on. Weren’t you suppose to be on a date?” 
You shrug again. “Yeah. It ended early. I thought of finding my brother and he asked me to use this room since it was vacant. I supposed he forgot to tell you? I could leave if-“
“N-no. You can stay, since you’re already here”, Yunho cuts you off. No fucking way is he wasting this chance. Somehow the thought of you within the same, close proximity is making his head dizzy. “You’re okay with sharing the bed? I can sleep downstairs.”
Your face starts to heat up. As much as it was the elephant in the room, for Yunho to bring up so straightforwardly like that was making your mind wander a little too close to the sun. 
You force a small smile. “It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” Well, not a lie, the only thing was that the both of you were blacked out drunk when it happened that one time. 
Yunho’s signature smile appears. He looks comforted, at least. “Right. Then I’ll use the bathroom to wash up.” He grabs a spare towel on the rack, then walks back to dig for his clothes in his duffle before he disappears into the bathroom, leaving you with your messy thoughts. Your hand is over your heart, and you feel it beating a little too wildly. 
Nothing’s gonna happen. Two people of the opposite sex can share a bed just fine, is what you tell yourself. Yeah, that would have been the case, if the opposite gender wasn’t Jeon Yunho. 
Fifteen minutes felt like fifteen years in all honesty. The anxiety wouldn’t simmer down, so you end up burying yourself underneath the cold sheets, hoping that you’d end up falling asleep. 
And by some miracle, you did. That is, until you feel the mattress weigh down, and shuffling on the sheets, then something bumping against your leg. You stir slightly from the disruption.
“Sorry. The bed’s a little…cramped”, you hear Yunho’s voice tickling your ears as his legs press against yours. 
You stay silent, the only things that you hear are the whirling of the air conditioning and the sound of your heart about to fucking burst from your rib cage. 
“It’s fine”, you finally reply, your body completely still, unsure how actually close the male is against you, only his legs pressed up against the back of your knees and his arms are barely touching your back as a gauge. Well, you weren’t in the mood to find out. The myriad amount of assurances you repeat to yourself that he’s just a friend, that he’s just Jeon Yunho, does nothing to comfort you to say the least. 
You hear his voice ring a little to close to your ears again. “How was your date?”
You don’t want to answer, your eyes are focused onto the darkness of the door in front of you. You fear that he might hear your thoughts if you speak, even though that’s literally impossible. 
“It was fine”, you curtly reply, squeezing the spare pillow in your arms. 
“What did you think of him?” 
“I think he’s okay. He’s quite a decent guy. Then again, it’s just the first date”.
The mattress shifts suddenly and you freeze when you feel him inch even closer to you. You have no clue what expression he’s making but from the way he suddenly shifts rather dramatically, you would assume that he seemed shocked? 
Oh, you were definitely about to find out. 
“You’re planning to see him again?” He’s closer now. You feel his chest almost pressing against your spine. You feel his gaze piercing daggers into the back of your head. You feel his agitation. But over what?
“I haven’t decided on that yet”, you reply. But you cut him before he says anything, “but what’s it to you? You usually don’t care about the things I do. Let alone my dates.”
This time, it’s Yunho’s turn to fall silent. The weight of the mattress beneath you shifts once more it stills. For a moment, you assume that he’d shifted away from you, and maybe he’d let the matter die off.
“Who said I didn’t?”
Now he’s completely pressing his body against you—you feel his lips just a hair’s length from the back of your neck, his chest completely flat against your back. 
His crotch right against your ass. 
“Yunho-“, you try turning to face him before the both of your start making any mistakes, but his hand presses your waist down, halting any movements you were about to make. Heat is flushing your cheeks.
“I’ll stop if you don’t want to, and I’ll turn away, and sleep downstairs. I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”
Shit, shit, shit. The more words Yunho speak, the more they aren’t registering in your damn head. His voice is melting in your ears, low and dangerous. The consequences that once rang like alarm bells in your head slowly grow muted, and now it’s just your carnal desire to let Yunho do whatever he wanted to you.
“I’m not doing this without your consent, my dear”, he reminds , and his hand is slowly trailing off your body. 
All the repercussions, completely wiped off when your feelings that you once tried to fucking hard to suppress behind to bubble up to the surface, and for Yunho to just summon them so easily when he says it so gently and with such  temptation.
But you should still probably stop this-
From the way you’re staying quiet, Yunho is ready to just cut his advances. After all, he’s not interested in making you feel uncomfortable, as much as he wants to just ruin you all for himself. He keeps his breathing light, but his heart is still beating loudly in his chest, bracing himself for the rejection, his hand gradually lifting from your waist, very much reluctantly-
Until he feels your hand cup his. 
“I wanna feel you, Yunho”, you answer him, loud enough for him to hear, even though it was only the two of you within the confines of the room. 
Yunho feels like he’s not close enough to you, even though the both of you are squeezed together, and his erection is evident—pressing shamelessly against the curve of your ass. It’s driving up the wall. 
Another thing he doesn’t expect is the way your fingers curl around his wrist, and you bring him to your braless tits, and he short-circuits when his fingers press against your hard nipples. You curse softly when he rolls them gently against his fingertips, and you lean back against his chest. Yunho takes the chance to kiss your neck down to your shoulders, making you melt all over again. 
But he doesn’t want to stay there for long. His cock is just throbbing and it’s overtaking his rationale. 
You always offhandedly complimented that Yunho had such long, slender and pretty fingers, and that he made mundane actions—writing, typing—look so attractive.
And now, his fingers are prying your legs to spread open for him.
His fingers dip into the wetness of your soaked folds, and his mind almost completely blanks out for the second time at the way you’re drenched for him. 
“Fuck. All of this for me?” He asks rhetorically, as he easily sinks two fingers in, hearing you choke from how his fingers are filling you up so well. The tip of his fingertips press against a spongy spot, and your head tilts back, face so flushed from the pleasure when he begins curl his fingers while in you and while he fucks your wet cunt. 
He’s not letting you form any coherent thoughts in your head, not while he’s finger fucking the thoughts right out your poor brain.
“You’re so fucking soft. Shit. I really want to fuck you so fucking bad”, he grunts in your ear, his hips grinding against your ass like a natural instinct to. 
“Your cock”, you mutter, struggling to keep your eyes open and mind clear. “Fuck. Need you to fuck me so good.”
Yunho inhales the scent of your hair wash as he peppers bites and kisses down the nape of your neck, smiling when he feels goosebumps spread across your skin.
He’s so tempted. But not yet. He desperate—desperate to see you fucking fall apart just with his fingers.
So he pulls his soaked fingers out, and for a moment, you whine at how empty your cunt feels, just ready to fucking beg him to fuck you with his fingers, his cock, whatever. 
He sits up, pushing the thick and heavy blankets aside, tugging your wet bottoms and panties off, giving himself a mental reminder to pocket your panties when he’s done with you. 
You’re spread open and perfectly wide for him to admire and drool over. By now, his eyes are pretty much adjusted the darkness, and the both of you are lazy to switch on the nightlight, so he’s definitely able to see your pussy in full view.
“Y-yu-“, your words completely cut off when he plunges two fingers right into your pussy again, filling you up completely. And this time, his other hand is on your clit, fingers rubbing, sending sparks flying beneath your eyelids. 
The pleasure makes you buck your hips, and it builds so dangerously quick in your abdomen. The sounds of your pussy growing so fucking wet only encourages Yunho to pick up the pace, catching a rhythm of fucking and rubbing your clit so perfectly that you realise the feeling is growing way too funny. 
“Y-Yunho-“ you try again. “Oh god. Feels weird.” Nonetheless, you don’t say it without your eyes rolling back and your abdomen flexing. 
“That’s it. Let it go for me, baby. It’ll feel so fucking good.”
Oh fuck. You don’t even register it before it happens—it totally washes over you, and you’re just helplessly submitting to how fucking good this feels as you squirt all over Yunho, your mind swimming in the depths of ecstasy, your moans drowned when Yunho seals your lips shut with his, greedy to just keep them all to himself, and well, also not trying to wake the whole chalet up. 
When Yunho pulls back and sees how flushed spent your face looks, he can’t help but sink deeper into his feelings for you. He goes in for another kiss, this time with your mind slowly clearing from the mind-blowing orgasm. Your arms wrap around his neck instantly, pulling him as close as you could, soft moans in between kisses only making him impossibly harder than he already was. 
He shifts to lie down on the bed with you again, this time the both of you facing each other. He tugs the hem of your shirt and lugs it over your head, before lowering himself slightly to face your chest. You don’t know how but his pants are somehow kicked off, somewhere on the bed, and he’s bare and so fucking hard when he presses his cock on your pussy. 
“Lift your leg for me, babe”, he says, palm sliding on the underside of your thigh as he feels you spread your legs open for him once more. 
Yunho rubs his cockhead along your wet fucking folds, before he pushes himself in, a whimper leaving his lips as he bites on your shoulder to stop any loud noises from slipping past his lips. 
He pushes himself in even more, and your arms are around his neck once more, light red imprints from your fingernails dig into his skin.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Feels like fucking heaven. So fucking tight and soft”, he mutters, eyes so glazed, and arms so tight around you when he finally buries himself into the hilt. 
Your mind is complete mush by then—combined with Yunho’s cock that’s stuffed in you and the scent of his hair wash, you swear you were gonna cum for the second time. You knew he probably packed something, but holy fucking shit, you just never thought it would fill you up this fucking good. The rest of your senses slowly start to dull, the feeling of Yunho’s cock almost taking them  all away. 
“Shit. You’re fucking squeezing me-fuck!-here,” Yunho says, but it comes off as a broken moan. His head is buried into the crook of your neck, and you hear him trying to steady his breath through a slew of curses. 
“You wanna move now?” You ask, your fingers combing through his messy locks. Yunho thinks he might have some sort of hair combing fetish with you now. 
“Fuck, yes, please,” is all he replies before he pulls out slightly, then thrusting right back in, projecting fucking stars into your eyelids when he fills you up again and again. 
You press your head against the pillow, eyes shut from the pleasure. When you find the strength to open them, Yunho’s glazed out expression is what comes into view. He’s looking at you like you’re his fucking treasure. 
“Does it feel good? You feel so fucking amazing, y/n.”
“You can’t be asking me that when you’re fucking the thoughts right out of me”, and you squeal when he thrusts into you once more, filling you up to the brim.
“Even better. So my cock will be only the cock you know, right?” He smiles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes when your walls clench around him again.
And when you don’t answer, his hand slithers to your neck, and he squeezes, making you gasp. 
“Answer me, pretty.”
“Yes, fuck yes. Don’t need anyone else’s when you’re fucking me so good”, you cry, relishing in the way he’s gradually cutting off your oxygen supply. 
His thrusts grow harder and faster, his hands slowly letting go of your throat.
“That’s my good girl.”
And that makes your cunt flutter and pulsate uncontrollably for the second time, only now it’s on his cock this time. 
“F-fuck. Oh, that’s it. That’s a good fucking girl, cumming all over my cock like that”, his voice ups a pitch when you fall apart again. “I’m gonna cum. Make sure you’re full and dripping when I’m fucking done with you.”
And when he does, he leaves a whole garden of bites on your chest and shoulders on top of filling your pussy up with his thick and warm cum. You never thought his face would get anymore attractive, but when he cums? You could get addicted to pulling that expression out of him, that’s for sure. 
The both of you are panting as your highs wear off, hands still not off each other despite the shared warmth. He’s the first to let go, and you’re about to say something until he turns you around, and it’s then when his cock starts to harden in you. Your heart is beating rapidly again when his cock is filling you up once more, as it slowly displaces his cum that leaks past your sopping hole.
Your hand grabs onto his arm that’s snaking around your waist. 
“W-wait. We need to talk about my broth-“, and he hears you whimper when he pushes himself deeper into you, throbbing in you. The way he’s littering kisses down your neck is sending you into a spiral, and now you’re nothing but weak against him, and his fat cock.
“That can wait to tomorrow, babe. I promised that I’ll make sure you’re full and dripping once I’m fucking done with you right? Well, I’m not done fucking you yet.”
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katsukikitten · 3 months
Text
War General Bakugou who wants a wife but scares all the women off with his scars, the battle stories they've heard about him and his demeanor alone is forced to go to a match maker per his mother's nagging.
Yes at one point Bakugou was ready to settle down and have children, that was in his late twenties and now in his mid thirties he has ZERO desire court a woman in any sense. He does not want to learn her favorite flower so he can ensure a vase of them stays fresh on the foyer table and in the kitchen for her. He does not want to know her favorite food so he can get up early and prepare it nor does he care to find out her favorite instrument that he'd play or hell even learn to play quickly just to see her sigh and smile at him as he plays. And he definitely doesn't want to hear her laugh and how it'll tangle up in his chest like any burning liquor that he wants to chase with more and more of the sound.
He absolutely does not give a fuck.
He shouldn't, especially not with you, eyes and tongue as sharp as any blade he's wielded in his youth. Young early twenties at best and long beautiful hair that sweeps over your black and pink kimono despite the hot summer demanding vibrant colors.
He shouldn't like how you refuse to pour his tea, how you dump it out when he pours yours to signal you are done with the conversation. Shouldn't like that when he leans closer to you, you only move so that he does not invade your space. Holding his gaze with a glare he hasn't seen from another since the battlefield and even then his stature was enough to intimidate any man.
Still you look at him, eyes only flicking to his milky one once before you hold stead fast to the glittering garnet of his clear eye.
"Must you come on to women so strongly? Is this the only way you can get close to them."
He chuckles snaking his arm around you as he pulls you closer, chest to chest. His almost bare from how loose he wears his own kimono, pressing his lips to your ear and you can feel the smirk on his mouth.
"You're just the only woman I want to be close to, sweetheart. What's wrong? Do I scare you?"
It's bait, you both know it's bait, and yet here you are biting down on that hook much harder than you should.
Shoving the hulking man away from you so now this time you're hovering over him, top lip painted in matte black as your bottom lip stays glossy in its natural soft hue.
"It will take much more than that to scare me, Bakugou the Slayer."
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Text
Good People
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.
Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.
He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.
Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.
Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.
"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.
"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.
A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."
"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."
"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.
"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"
"Well, because he's your family."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."
"That's different!"
"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.
"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."
"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"
"Yes!"
"But why?" Eddie presses.
"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"
"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."
"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."
Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.
"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."
"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."
"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."
Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.
"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."
"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"
"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.
Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.
He's got some thinking to do.
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angelltheninth · 1 month
Note
the way i would kiss a ground you walk over for pantalone smut 😩😫 please, just imagine him as an older boyfriend for reader (yes, i am OBSESSED with that thought since i read genshin mans as older boyfriends, anyway back to request) and myb breeding kink (you got me desperate)!
No need to kiss anyone or anything Anon, you had me at older glasses man.
Pairing: Pantalone x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, age-gap, consensual power imbalance, breeding kink, gloves, clit stimulation, praise kink, cock riding, pregnancy talk
A/N: Honestly a lot of Genshin men could be older boyfriend material.
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Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. But he isn't sure he wants to have kids just yet, he's older but he isn't old so there will be time to have kids later. So if he does happen to finish inside you with no condom on he at least wants to make sure you have birth control to take in the morning after.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. And talks about how beautiful you would look while carrying his kid. You are beautiful now but something about you putting on that extra weight that will come with the baby, becoming even softer for his hands. There's beauty in that and he wants to see it some day.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. He holds your breasts in his hands while rutting into you from below, wishing for the day he'll see his baby feeding from you. For now he'll use them as his playthings, biting, sucking and nibbling on your nipples until they're sensitive and pearly in his mouth.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. If he pulls out when he shoots his cum inside of you then he will spread your pussy with his fingers and watch it tighten and loosen around his seed. Will lick up any cum that your pussy pushes out before giving it a slap and telling you that you shouldn't do that, his cum needs to stay inside of you as much as possible if you want to get pregnant.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. He puts his gloves on and fingers the cum back inside of you, he doesn't enjoy how sticky it is on his fingers. This is cleaner and he knows how much you like to see his gloves glistening with your combined cum. That is messy too, so he will give you the option to clean him up if you were a good girl for him.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. Summons you into his office or study whenever he gets an erection because he will not waste a single drop of his seed. He doesn't even masturbate anymore, it all goes to you. You can always say no, just keep in mind there will be even more the next time you have sex.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. He rubs your clit while you ride his cock because he knows your orgasm will further push his sperm into you. Your pleasure is important yes but him breeding you is a bit more important when he's like this. Pleasure is secondary for you both in that case.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. When you ride his cock he's happy to let you do so but the moment he gets ready to finish he will flip you over. More of his cum will flow out if you're on top of him and when you're trying for a baby he doesn't want to take that risk. You need to take everything you can from him, your cunt needs to suck him dry even if you pass out after.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. Knows you're doing the best you can for him, it's not your fault if you don't get pregnant right away. You can always keep trying again and you know how much he loves having sex with you. He promised to give you at least one child and he never breaks his word to you, even if it takes having sex all day and night, to the point of exhaustion.
Older boyfriend Pantalone has a breeding kink. He always tells you how he will take care of you when you start showing signs of pregnancy. Can't wait for that day actually, he already set aside a budget for the baby, everything you'll need to buy for it when it's born. The only thing you need to do still is make that baby, and you've been working hard at that.
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cupid-styles · 2 months
Note
Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged
this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!
part of the tattoorry/plugrry world
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word count: 3k
content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
"Wait, you're being serious?"
Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"
His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend. 
"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)
"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills. 
"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."
She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences. 
"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."
Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."
That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead. 
"What do you mean, the right person?"
"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."
It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more. 
"What about me?" 
"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down. 
"What piercings would look good on me?"
He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her. 
"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."
She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."
"Anything would, you're gorgeous."
"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"
Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."
"Oh, you're being a professional now?"
"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.
"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."
"Really?"
He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."
She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.
"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"
"Huh?"
She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"
"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later. 
"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly. 
She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts. 
"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."
He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.
"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils. 
"Of course."
"Would you do it, then?"
Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."
Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."
"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."
"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."
She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose. 
"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."
Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand." 
"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"
. . .
Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.
It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them. 
In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.
"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people. 
And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.
It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes. 
It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.
"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."
"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."
She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek. 
He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.
"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on. 
"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."
"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?" 
The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly. 
"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"
She nods again. 
"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"
She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh. 
"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it. 
"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"
"Do you do that for every client?"
He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."
She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up. 
"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"
"Not insane."
He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."
She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast. 
"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest. 
It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip. 
"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."
They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples. 
"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"
Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.
"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."
"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"
"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."
He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her. 
"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."
She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now. 
"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."
She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away. 
"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."
Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."
Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles. 
"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."
She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"
"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."
"I didn't, I cried the whole time."
He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them. 
"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."
Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?" 
"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."
Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt. 
When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest. 
"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs. 
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diejager · 6 months
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I never thought I would like a stepdad!konig so much, I just don't. But here I am.Soo I saw the need to do this
I felt 'jealous' of f!reader's mother.Simply the fact of reading how she becomes unconscious (with good reason, it's könig!) After a while with him.... And that they are practically husband and wife. It's a strange feeling,You know. like a delusion (I feel so stupid right now)
How would stepdad!konig react if he found out about it? (I feel a little better with the comfort of dbf! Horangi, scary, I know)
You are incredible, thank you for your writings 🌻
Oh, that sunflower at the end is cuteee Cw: unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, sex marathon?, stepcest, DUB-CON?NON-CON, degrading, tell me If I missed any.
"Oh, is the what you want?" König cooed, smirk cruel and smug as he watched you wail beneath Horangi.
He recently came out of his room, baggy pants hanging low on his angular hips, dropping on one side and showing off the sharp dip on his navel and happy trail, a salacious way to walk into a room smelling of sweat and sex. He cleaned up, brushing his ginger hair with hints of silver to the side, messy and slightly damp from his session with your mom. Chest clean and body fluids wiped off, he always came to you clean and ruggedly handsome. Much like his friend who, until a few minutes ago, had the monopoly in your attention and silent cries, who drove his cock into you with strong and purposeful thrusts while he kissed your mewls away, swallowing them down with the harsh press of his scarred lips.
"You should have told me, Schatz," könig pushed on, pulling his waistband down enough for his engorged cock to spring upwards, slapping his deep V with a wet sound.
Horangi chuckled, hoisting you up on his lap, hands guiding your hips up and down his cum-coated thighs. You clung to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into his sculpted back (for someone of their age, they still had an enviable physique, back, arms and thighs ripped with thick and strong muscles while having a soft but equally sculpted abdomen.) With every buck of his hips skyward. You hid your face in his neck, damping it with your tears and open-mouthed mewls by biting down on his shoulder, muffling any keens and cries that would echo too loudly in your room.
"Use your big girl words, ja?" Your stepdad went on, pumping his pre down his uncut head, pulling down the foreskin to show his red and angry tip.
Feeling quite smug about your disheveled look, being the one responsible for it after your stepdad took too long fucking your mom to sleep, Horangi pressed kisses up your neck, behind your ear and teasing you with his teeth, playfully nipping at you while he looked at König. He peered over your bouncing shoulders, brown eyes seeming pitch black in your dark room, illuminated by a small lamp, the dim yellow light giving a golden tint to his eyes. He was goading König in a way, narrowed eyes and cheeks pulled by scars when he smirked at your stepdad, flashing his teeth as he bit down, reveling in the whimper he pulled from you.
"We shouldn't disappoint, huh, König?" Horangi chuckled, ramming you down his cock, feeling your walls clamp down on him while your legs shook, toes curling as you come, painting a pretty ring around his shaft.
The only reply he got back was a vindictive laugh, deep and rumbling, a bigger hand wrapping around your nape, scuffing you. König yanked your head back, blurry and teary eyes staring up at him, he held you there until Horangi finished, until Horangi painted your cunt white, until he got a turn to stuff you full of his cock and cum, and until he could fuck you unconscious like you wanted to.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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familyvideostevie · 4 months
Text
day after tomorrow
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
joel miller x reader
summary: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him. 
warnings: modern no outbreak au, game!joel or hbo!joel, fluff, really just a fluff fest honestly, new-ish relationship, falling in love, sweet enough to make your teeth ache | 2.7k
A/N: this is a christmas gift for my dear friend @strangerfreaks who makes my life better in every way possible. i love you! hope you enjoy this <3
___
He's leaning on the side of the truck when you hurry outside with your stuff. 
"Morning," you call. It's barely that, sky still dark and air still carrying the bite of the night's chill. 
Joel straightens up and gives you a tired smile. Most of his smiles are tired but they're always genuine when directed at you. He tugs the backpack from your shoulder and presses his lips to your cheek, beard scratching your skin gently. 
"Howdy," he says in your ear before pulling away.
The travel mug Joel pushes into your hands is warm to the touch. 
"Tea," he says before you can tell him it's too early for coffee. His voice is deeper than usual, still warming up from sleep. It's not a cup from the local shop -- they're not open yet -- so he must have made it at home. "No caffeine before flights." 
"You remembered?" 
He gives you an unimpressed look and grabs your bags. They go in the backseat of his truck and he jerks his chin at the passenger door. "Get in. S'chilly."
It's also early. So early you were not going to ask him to drive you to the airport but when you mentioned you had to go on a work trip he offered. Insisted, actually, once he found out what time you needed to get there.
"You ain't takin' a cab that early," he had said. "Hell, you ain't takin' a cab home, neither. I'll pick you up."
This thing between you isn't new anymore, not exactly, but it's not solid yet. It doesn't have a name. But it's been a few months and you know what his sheets smell like and the feel of him pressed against you in the middle of the night and how he laughs with his head thrown back, mouth wide and eyes creased at the corners. He likes to take you on long walks around the lake a few towns over and you know all about his daughters even if you haven't met them yet. Your life feels a little more solid with Joel in it and the swell of your heart in your chest when you talk to him, when you see him, when he looks at you, is a welcome feeling. It's nice to want and be wanted in return. 
The inside of his truck is warm, your seat heater already turned on. The radio is down to a low hum and there's a silver cup similar to your own in the holder between the seats. Joel gets back into the truck with a slight groan and glances at you to see if you've got your seatbelt on before he clicks his. 
"Ready?" he asks. You nod. He settles his hand on your headrest and looks out the back windshield as he reverses the truck out of the driveway. "Shouldn't hit much traffic," he says. 
You take a sip of your tea and watch him as he drives out of your neighborhood and towards the highway. Part of you wishes you would hit traffic so you could look at him longer. Even in the dark you know his face pretty well by now. His hair is getting a little long, the dark threaded through with some grey and falling over his perpetually lined forehead. The scar on the bridge of his nose that you love to run your finger across and the bruises under his eyes from too many nights up late working on site plans and employee schedules. You don't think you've met a man who works as hard as Joel, and yet here he is driving you to the airport when he could be sleeping. 
Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because it's dark or maybe it's because you're leaving for a few days but Joel lets you look without teasing. His eyes catch yours for just a second and he smirks.
"Why don't you drink coffee before a flight?" He takes a sip of his own thermos. You watch his throat work as he swallows and look away this time. The sky is starting to look purple out your window, the trees and fields and occasional buildings flying by too fast for your eyes to settle on anything. Joel drinks coffee like it's water. You're still leaning things about each other -- most days you find yourself thinking that you want to be learning things about him for the rest of your life -- and this is a new topic of conversation. You haven't had to be on a plane since you met him.
"I don't really like flying," you say. "Makes me nervous. I figure caffeine will just make it worse."
"Don't like it much either." You look at him again and find see smirk turn to a frown as he merges onto the nearly empty highway. "You gonna be okay?"
He asks like it's within his power to make flying something enjoyable, to cancel your work trip, to squash everything in this world that makes you nervous. Mostly you're just glad he's not teasing you about it. Maybe someday you can take a trip and be grumpy about it together.
"I'll be fine, Joel."
"Hm."
He rests an elbow against the window and rakes his hand through his hair.
"What are you up to this week?" you ask. 
He sighs. "Not much," he says. "Lumber shipment but Tommy's handlin' it. Ellie says her shower head is actin' funny so I'll go to her place and look at that. Probably sit my ass on the couch and try to watch a damn football game or somethin'."
"So what I'm hearing is you're going to miss me." It's meant to be a tease but it comes out a bit more earnest than you'd like. 
He sends you that unamused look of his but the mirth in his eyes betrays him, tells you he sees through it. You're learning that he's good at that -- seeing what you really mean, what you really want, who you really are, all the way down to the core. "Course I will," he says. "What man wouldn't miss cold hands bein' stuck up his shirt when he gets in bed?"
You scoff and Joel snickers. You could remind him how he usually catches your hands in his before you make it to his hemline on the rare nights he does wear a shirt, how he cradles your fingers and blows on them softly while rubbing them with his perpetually warm palms. The memory makes your breath hitch just a bit. 
It's only three days. Some conference your boss wanted you to go to in his stead. It won't require much of you -- you just have to attend a few panels, a dinner or two, and schmooze a little bit. You'll be back before you know it. You tell yourself it's silly to feel this apprehension at the distance, the time apart. But you're used to Joel by now and damn if you won't miss him. Used to him taking up space in your kitchen, used to his arm around you on the couch, used to his short texts and heavy gaze. You know by now that it's only a matter of time before you love him.  
"I'll miss you, too," you say softly. Joel eyes you, smirk turned soft again and reaches for you. He settles his palm on your thigh and you cover your hand with his. 
When you get to the airport aren't many cars around and you're pretty sure the attendants won't yell at you for idling. Joel seems to think the same thing as he gets out of the truck to set your luggage on the ground. You leave your now-empty to-go mug in his car and throw your arms around him when he gets to the curb with your suitcase. His chest rumbles in amusement but he hugs you back, one palm rubbing between your shoulder blades until you pull away. 
"Thank you for --"
"Nope," he interrupts you. "No thanks allowed." He hands you your backpack and you shoulder it. "I'll pick you up on Wednesday," he says. 
You wave him off. "I get in way too late, don't worry about it --"
His hand cups your cheek and the words sputter out in your throat. "I'll be here," he says again. 
"I'll call you," you say. "When I get there." It sounds like a question.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please do."
"Thanks for the tea --"
"Now, what did I just say?"
You wrinkle your nose at him and he rolls his eyes before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss just a little though it remains chaste, mouths closed as his thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before he pulls away. It's the kind of kiss that feels fond, feels familiar. A kiss that becomes routine and for a second you imgaine the press of your mouths a thousand times over just like this. 
"Safe flight, sweetheart."
You smile at him and grab your suitcase before you stand here kissing him all day. "Bye, Joel." 
6:04 am: you make it to your gate okay?
You send him a picture of your breakfast sandwich and the sun rising through the window, painting the sky purple and orange. 
6:05 am: don't text and drive!
He replies with a photo of a full mug of coffee on his counter. It's a silly one, a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. You think Sarah got it for him as a gag gift. 
6:05 am: home already. let me know when you land
6:06 am: will do. have a good day!
The flight is pretty okay. You spend the bumpy moments thinking about Joel's hand on your leg and get through it just fine. A shuttle takes you to your hotel and you have to hurry a bit to be ready for your first panel. 
You're busy all day. So tired by the time you get back to your room that you flop on the bed with a groan. 
"Ugh," you say, face smushed into the sheets. You're tired and hungry and...you miss Joel and feel a little silly about it.
That sense of puppy love, as most people would call it, hasn't faded. Your feelings for Joel are more than the crush they were when you first started seeing each other but they still linger in the realm of infatuation. You like to look at him, to feel the solid warmth of him beside you, above you, underneath you. You like being near him. But you're also starting to love things. You love the way his voice sounds when he wakes up, the way he says your name over the phone, the way he asks you what you want, how you are, how your day was. You love to see him on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bed. You've started to miss him when he's not around. 
And what you said to him in his truck is true. You do miss him. It's an ache that sits in the center of your chest, an ache that feels like the best kind of bruise -- because it comes from something good. And because you know it'll be soothed soon enough. 
But, because you're only human, you doubt that it's as serious for him. Joel keeps his cards close to his chest and while you feel like you know him pretty well by now you also have so much to learn. So, though you really want to, you don't pick up the phone and call him. Maybe the next time you're away. 
7:54 pm: day 1 done! ready to get in bed. why do men talk so much?
He texts back immediately. 
7:54 pm: god knows. don't forget to order room service on the company dime. sweet dreams.
You laugh and do as he says. 
The rest of the conference goes the same. By day three you're exhausted and your face hurts from smiling at so many people. Your shoes are no longer comfortable and as soon as the closing keynote ends you're out of there, changing into soft clothes and taking the shuttle to the airport. You text Joel a picture of your airport dinner and then your eye bags and he replies with a cute that has you giggling a little too loudly in public. 
You just want to get home to him. Your own bed is a bonus. 
But then your flight gets delayed. Twice. Joel tells you not to worry, he'll pick you up in the middle of the night if he has to. Once you board you get stuck on the tarmac for another half hour before finally taking off. It's a decidedly less relaxing experience because you're so anxious to be home but you make it. When you land it feels like you're sitting in your seat for ages. You're tired and feel gross and you want to go to bed. Your phone turns back on and you've got one text waiting for you.
10:34 pm: i'll be by baggage claim
That was 15 minutes ago. He must have been checking your flight in the air to get here at a reasonable time. God, you want to touch him. You want to stick your nose in his neck and inhale. 
You try very hard not to run through the terminal to the escalator that goes down to arrivals. It seems to move really fucking slowly once you're on it. As soon as it gets far enough for you to see the baggage claim level and everyone waiting there your eyes search for him. You see some families, a few tired children sleeping in arms that hold them tenderly. A group of girls with a sign that reads WELCOME HOME RACHEL!
And then there's Joel.
Once you spot him it's hard to keep a smile from your face. He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the escalator. Jeans, jacket, boots, and a firm set to his jaw that might be intimidating to anyone else but to you it's familiar. It's him. Once he sees you he stands a little taller and you see his cheek twitch. If someone wasn't in front of you you'd be down the steps in seconds but you wait until you're at the bottom to race forward. 
It's probably a bit dramatic. You drop your suitcase and backpack at your feet in front of him.
"Hi," you say, and then you throw your arms around his shoulders. Joel laughs. 
"S'like you're comin' home from war, or somethin'," he says, though his hugs you back just as tightly. "Should'a made a sign."
"Feels like it." Your words are muffled by his shoulder. 
"That bad, huh?" His palm drags up and down your spine. "Let's get you home, then."
Neither of you pull away. "I missed you," you say softly. 
Joel breathes deep and pulls away, hand on the back of your head as he makes sure you're looking at him. 
"Missed you, too," he says gruffly. Then he kisses you. It's less chaste than your goodbye kiss but still perfectly acceptable for airport arrivals, you think. 
"You hungry?"
"I sent you a picture of my dinner!"
"Not what I asked." You shrug and tangle your fingers with his. His thumb strokes the back of your hand. "We'll get you somethin' on the way home."
"Do you want to stay over?" you ask in a rush, realizing too late he's got no reason to want to. It's late and tomorrow is a workday. "I'm just gonna shower and go to bed but I--"
Joel's nostrils flare. "If you want me to I will." Simple as that. 
"Okay," you say. He squeezes your hand.
You walk in easy silence for a few moments. Once you're in the car you'll ask how his week was, tell him about the gossip you learned at the conference. You'll look at him the entire drive to your place, drinking your fill of him after three days without. Yeah, you're going to love him. It's just a matter of time.
"Thank you for coming to get me," you say. 
Joel looks like he wants to argue but he allows it.
"Anytime," he says. It sounds like a promise. 
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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