#// he's a lil sad with regret now
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olivewormz · 7 months ago
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ELLO!!!! GUESS WHO REDID HIS METAL SLUG DESIGNS!!!! i guess you could call it that uuhm
but YEA!! i've been thinking a lot about metal slug lately and i just... couldnt resist redrawing my versions, hopefully i do more in the future for more characters n all, i really want to post more metal slug stuff, i love LOVE these silly guys
im not writing anything at the moment cause i really didnt change my headcanons and im kind of tired to write proper paragraphs (i should stop staying up until 3 am to finish drawings? maybe).
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demonsfate · 6 months ago
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Even though Jin was generous enough to grant Abaddon a few hours of freedom each day, Abaddon never ventured far from their home in Yakushima. He would sometimes go deeper in the woods, seeking solitude from where he’d expect to encounter nobody but animals. Thanks to Kazuya’s machinations, humanity now knew about demons, &, for obvious reasons, society condemned devils. Abaddon avoided frightening people or causing pandemonium by appearing in public. Although he could disguise himself as a human, he refrained from doing so. It didn’t feel right using Jin’s appearance after framing him for a plethora of war crimes.
So, Abaddon stayed indoors, immersing himself in human culture through television. That's what he was currently doing. He sat cross - legged on the floor in front of an illuminated screen, absorbing the news. Gas prices were rising, which mattered little to him. Violent Systems was releasing an update to the Combot series, & a movie franchise was getting its 45th sequel. Abaddon hadn’t seen the others yet.
Despite the news being largely irrelevant to him, Abaddon found it fascinating. It offered a window into the world, revealing what has preoccupied the humans. He enjoyed himself, with a cat purring in his lap ( forgive him, Jin had 5 other cats & Abaddon couldn’t remember this one’s name ) & an empty, greasy plastic wrapper that once contained deli - slice ham lying beside him.
But Abaddon’s enjoyment waned as the news shifted from entertainment to current world affairs. Over a year had passed, yet the world was still suffering from the Mishima Zaibatsu’s warfare. Images of ruined cities & homeless people, victims of the Zaibatsu’s relentless assaults, all flashed on the screen. The sight felt surreal, like he was experiencing a dream ( or, more accurately, a nightmare ) unfolding before him. Despite knowing he was at fault for this tragedy, Abaddon found it hard to believe in that moment.
He recalled the hatred that filled his heart. How he refused to give humankind a chance, viewing them as inferior creatures, pests that polluting the earth who were in a dire need of extermination. How he had wanted to rule over them as a wrathful God, slowly killing them as a punishment for alleged sins. What sins ? Abaddon couldn’t really answer that. His feelings had been driven by instincts from the true God who had created him. He was once God’s wrath. Yet, that chapter in his life now felt distant, as if it had only occurred in a twisted imagination.
Watching the news was a stark reminder that it all had transpired, & he was solely responsible for killing thousands & thousands out of rage & delusions of divinity. As he saw locations in desperate need of reconstruction, his heart shattered into tiny pieces, its shards stabbing his insides with a burning ache. He longed for nothing more than to help people now, but how could he, when he had been the one to rain hellfire down ?
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His hand reached out to the TV screen with a stubborn tremble he cannot cease. His sharp talons clacked against the glass. Then a woman appeared, middle - aged & worn down by stress. “My husband,” she spoke, voice strangled by tears, “my husband wasn’t even a soldier in the war. He was a truck driver, & - & the Zaibatsu had ordered an airstrike while he was . . . ” her voice drifted away, & her face suddenly blurred within his vision. He pulled back after experiencing a sensation that soaked his own cheeks.
Abaddon was crying. This poor woman would never see her husband again because of him. There were children who lost families, there were grooms who lost brides, brothers who lost sisters, century old homes that were torn down. Suffering filled the world, & humankind wasn’t the culprit.
He was.
Seeing a face of a victim reminded him of the countless like her. There were so many that Abaddon’s brain lacked the capacity to remember every single one, even if he met them all. A cruel reminder of how monstrous he once was. But he couldn’t be that monster again; he would NEVER be that monster again. Abaddon couldn’t fathom causing such tragedy again. He couldn’t even bear the thought of it without feeling ill.
His hand moved away from the TV to wipe at the tears running down his face, the jagged edges of his demonic palms scrape his cheek, making it a painful red.
A part of him wanted to wake Jin, let him take control of the body again because Abaddon questioned whether he deserved this freedom. Another part of him, however, believed he should watch the consequences of his actions.
His glistening, golden eyes stayed locked on the screen after deciding to continue watching, occasionally blinking to regain clear vision. The cat in his lap leapt off, scampering away to likely find food, or play with another feline.
The news announced an upcoming special regarding the war in a half hour, seemed like he'll be here, alone, for a while . . .
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multishipper-baby · 2 years ago
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Thinking about how the whole Deya situation resolved because having the family fight makes me big sad :c
#myocs#derek for his part just couldn't resist the parental bond- he's just too softhearted and family oriented for that#he saw the lil newborn looking all small and weird and couldn't help but want to protect her 🥺#he was scared out of his mind and didn't know if he'd be a good parent but he knew he'd forever regret it if he abandoned her#especially with her being weak and sickly and stuff#he'd always be mentally worrying about what happened to her. if she ever recovered. if her guardians where taking care of her needs#what if he left her with someone and they didn't properly deal with her medical issues? he'd never forgive himself#so. dad mode activate#gold on the other hand couldn't stay mad at red. especially when the situation wasn't fully his fault#did he make bad decisions? most definitely. but red is that sort of guy and gold loves him all messed up as he is#also; red was extremely distraught when he found out something was wrong with the baby#he wouldn't stop blaming himself and started being uncharacteristically melancholic#it was honestly pretty worrying because he'd never been the type to get sad before and now he was acting downright depressed#and there was no way gold could abandon his husband when things where that dire (or worse- give him additional stress)#so he was red's support person like he's always been. and red was able to properly apologize to him once the whole situation ended#I don't think their relationship ever went back to how it was before deya- but they still love each other very much#and red would do anything to make sure gold knows he's loved
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dutybcrne · 6 months ago
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Thinking more abt Star Rail hcs. Kae deffo keeps careful track of his loved ones no matter where in the cosmos he or they happen to go, using various contacts he has amassed over the years. And a tracker or two he’s stuck on them.
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willgrahamsipodnano · 1 year ago
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i shouldn’t be this sad that bereal didn’t save my post from yesterday
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txjis · 5 months ago
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thinking abt fucking ur bfs hot dad after u and him split up....
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cw: Dilf!Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader , age gap , unprotected sex , creampie , size kink , AGED UP MEGUMI (he's not actively in the story, just mentioned) , emotional cheating (reader clocks out emotionally before the breakup) , pining for toji b4 breakup, kitchen sex :3 , pet names (doll & lil’ one) , kinda fluffy ending.
wc: 2k-ish
notes: toji had megumi when he was 20 bc i said so, so the gap will make sense. megumi is 25, toji is 45, reader is somewhere around megumi's age.
this is a fic abt fucking ur exes hot dad, do not read if that makes you uncomfortable.
beta read by my muse @loverboyko yet again.
mwah (*still chews on u*)
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you stepped into the kitchen of the house your boyfriend- or now ex lived. he still lived with his father, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, he was working on getting his own life together before moving out.
your heart was heavy as you reminisced the memories that this house will forever hold, the warm comforting smell of the house even pulling at your heart. you had originally come to pick up the last of your belongings, wanting to finally move on from the messy split.
but as you turned the corner towards the kitchen- his father was there, leaning against the counter. his muscular frame filling the space. toji’s eyes, cold and piercing, watched your every move. he had to know that you and megumi split, but even then. why was he staring at you like that? there was no way he knew that you had recently thought he was eye candy, drooling at him when you thought his back was turned.
you were happy with megumi, it wasn’t anything like that. you hadn’t dreamed of leaving him, towards the beginning of the relationship at least. but as time went on, megumi seemed to care less. he had you, but he wasn’t fighting to keep you. when the feelings for him were slowly dying, fading away to nothing- you looked towards his father in a different light. no more was it just recognizing he was an attractive male, it was something more, yearning.
"doll," toji grunted, his voice deep and gravelly. you huffed lightly, the name he had called you since you met the guy. it was endearing, something innocent. or it was until the way the simple word started to fall on your ears differently. when your view of him changed. now, it offered no sort of comfort, instead making your cheeks flare and tummy flip.
"what are you doing here? came crawling back to my son?" he joked, smirking slightly. toji was, or used to be a pretty shitty guy. but one night his age finally clicked, he wasn't getting any younger. since then he's tried his best to right some of his wrongs.the joke was distasteful to say the least.the pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you felt a mix of emotions; anger at toji's rude remark, sadness from the memories of your empty relationship, and a strange, undeniable attraction to this older man who exuded raw, unleashed power.
"i-i just came to get my things," you stammered, the way his eyes staring directly through you made your voice come out more meek than you’d like. toji pushed himself off the counter and began to slowly circle you, his movements predatory. "my son always had some sort of gift when it comes to fumbling the things best for him," he remarked, his eyes roaming over your body.
all the progress toji had made on bettering himself seemed to melt away after meeting you. megumi bringing a pretty lil’ thing like you back to the house was pure hell. it was wrong, gross even for a man his age to look at you and feel his cock swell in his pants. there had been countless nights he locked himself up in his room, fucking his fist to thoughts of you. guilt flooding his post orgasmic state while he cleaned up was routine.
he saw the way you looked at megumi, your eyes shining like he had hung the stars and moon in the sky for you, and you only. your eyes, that's what made him sick with regret and remorse every time he came imagining it was your cunt squeezing him instead of his hand. but eventually, that look he saw you giving megumi changed. there was little to no love left behind your eyes when looking at him. instead, that glimmer he once saw, was now starting to stare directly back at him. he could practically taste the way you were begging him to touch you every time he caught your eyes on him.
"but you're too good for that doll. you deserve a real man to show you what love is." the blush on your cheeks deepened, feeling your body respond to his words despite telling yourself it was ‘wrong’. toji was so different from megumi, who had been gentle and considerate when pursuing you. there was something dangerously enticing about this older, more experienced man. reaching out, toji trailed a finger along your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"you want it, don't you?" he murmured, leaning down. his breath hot on your ear, fanning towards your neck."you want me to show you what it's like to be with a man who knows how to make a pretty lil’ thing like you feel loved?" you could hear the smirk in his voice, eyes too busy drinking in the muscle filled chest in front of you.
"y-yes," you whined, body betraying you as you leaned into his touch. toji smiled, a dangerous, seductive smile that promised wicked things. without warning, he grabbed you, pulling your body roughly against his. his lips crashed against your parted mouth, attempting to kiss you. it was messy, teeth clashing while a mixture of your and his spit gathered at the corner of your mouth. you moaned into his mouth, hands clutching at his shirt.
breaking the kiss, toji nibbled and sucked on your neck, leaving marks all over the sensitive skin. one hand gripped your hip, pulling you tightly against his hardening dick. the other slid up your thigh, under your skirt, and sandwiched itself between his cock and your pussy.
"so wet for me already," he growled, his fingers finding your twitchy cunt with ease. you gasped as he teased your clit, experienced movements circling it slowly before sliding two thick digits deep inside you. your eyes slipped down to where he was touching you, deeper than your own fingers could ever reach no matter the position. toji hissed, the back of his hand rubbing against the tent in his pants while his fingers worked on bullying your insides.
"oh.. oh fuck..," you breathed out, your head falling back as he began to thrust against his own hand. it moved his fingers in and out of your sopping heat, his thumb still rubbing at your swollen clit. toji's other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you up after beginning to see the muscles in your legs twitch. he pumped his fingers faster, his touch rough and urgent.
“cum for me, lil’ one," he demanded. "let me feel that tight pussy squeeze down on my fingers." you couldn't hold back anymore. with a broken cry, your pussy clamped down on his fingers, cumming hard while your juices flowed freely. toji growled in satisfaction, feeling the liquid splash against the front of his pants and drip down his wrist, continuing to help you through your orgasm until shaky legs vibrated against his waist. he almost felt bad, looking down at your fucked out expression from two measly fingers.
he lifted you up with ease onto the counter, spreading your legs. he feasted his eyes on your exposed, glistening pussy. with a satisfied grunt, he lowered his head, licking and sucking at your sensitive folds.you grasped his hair while he went down on you. his skilful tongue dipping into your hole before circling your clit again and again. it was a torturous pattern. you swore he could tell when you were about to cum, moving to lap at a different part of your cunt, or changing the tempo to throw your body off.
"toji, please.. s’too much," you begged, using the grip on his hair to push his face further into your pussy. any concerns for him being able to breathe were long gone out of your mind, instead now filled with his wet slurping and your moans. he chuckled, the vibrations sending pleasurable shivers through your core.
"what a needy lil’ thing," he teased before suddenly plunging two fingers back into your cunt while sucking your abused clit between his lips.a scream was cut off from the air being ripped from your lungs, your back arching off the counter as he ripped another powerful orgasm out of you. toji drank down your sweet cum, lapping continuously as your body convulsed uncontrollably.
finally, he stood. you gulped, suddenly taking it into account how much bigger he was than you. his eyes dark and hungry as he quickly shed his clothes, revealing the amount of muscle he still had. your eyes shamelessly drank his form in, landing to gaze at his painfully hard cock. there was a new wave of nerves that flooded through your entire being just taking in how but he was.
grabbing your ankles he didn’t give you much time to continue worrying. he pulled you to the edge of the counter, positioning himself at your entrance. with one swift thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside.
a cry was ripped from your lungs, eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of him stretching you open. it felt like you were being split in half. he gave you a few moments to adjust before toji started to move, his hips snapping forward as he fucked you hard and fast. the sound of skin slapping together filled the kitchen, mixed with your moans and garbled praises and his deep gravely grunts and groans.
"take it baby," he grunted. "take all of me." lost in a haze of pleasure, your body overwhelmed by the sensation of being completely filled by this powerhouse of a man. you moved your hips to the best of your ability- meeting his thrusts halfway.
"that's it, fuck me back," toji encouraged, his eyes burning with desire. "wrap those pretty legs around me." you did as he instructed, locking your ankles together behind his back, pulling him even deeper. toji groaned, his pace becoming wilder, his thrusts hitting your gummy sweet spot over and over.
"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he grit out, his teeth clenched as he rammed into you one final time, spilling his seed deep inside your pussy. it didn’t take you long to follow soon after, crying out his name as another mind-blowing orgasm ripped through your body, your walls gripping his cock tightly. toji leaned forward, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, still embedded inside. heavy breathing filled the kitchen, along with the sound of labored breathing.
slowly, toji pulled out, his cum dripping from your battered pussy. he smirked down at you, eyes filled with satisfaction. "now that," he said, his voice hoarse, "is how it's done." you could only nod, not trusting your voice from how dry your throat felt. he helped you off the counter, holding you up around your waist with one arm while his free hand moved to slide your panties back in place and fix your skirt.
toji pulled his own pants back on, confused when he turned around to see you wobbling- trying to walk towards where megumi had laid your remaining stuff in the kitchen.
“take it easy doll, c’mere. you need to lay down for a second.” the older man chuckled to himself, moving to once again support you with an arm around your waist. you looked up at him confused when he steered you away from the couch and back towards his room.
“toji.. ‘m fine. really-“ you were cut off with a sharp ‘tsk’ sound. the grip on your waist tightening.
“don’t wanna hear it, just lay with me for a bit.” he helped you lay down in his bed, leaving you alone long enough to grab a bottle of water. when he returned, he shut the door behind him. toji made his way back towards you, forcing you to take a few sips from the bottle before putting it down on the nightstand.
with strong arms trapping you against a very broad chest, the smell of him surrounding you- you couldn’t help but eventually doze off into a quiet slumber. toji watched your sleeping figure, his heart pulling at just how peaceful you looked. he could see the bags under your eyes, noting you hadn’t been sleeping well these past few weeks. but now, you were resting. he told himself he’d continue to watch over, and take care of you, if you’d let him.
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ask/requests: OPEN
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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 days ago
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Chapter 2- Awakening
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Summary: There was once a time in his life where knocking on your front door was the best part of Frankie's day. Now, the thought of having to ring your doorbell to face you makes him sick to his stomach.
Word Count: 4.1K
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, reader has a name/nickname)
Warnings: (the tiniest hint of) smut (18+), illusions to masturbation (m), angst/regret, fluff, awkward adolescent yearning (I have quickly come to learn this is my favorite thing to write whoops), Frankie realizing he's caught a case of the ✨feelings ✨ and doesn't know what to do
A/N: Less than 10K word chapters?!? Posting a series on a schedule?!?! I don't even know who I am anymore?!?! AH, thank you guys for all your sweet words about this series so far. Writing this has sparked such a joy inside me, and it means so much that y'all are willing to read my silly lil story 🥺💛 This chapter is from Frankie's POV- I know the first chapter had both reader and Frankie, but as I've been writing, it seems like it fits the story better if some are both POV's and some are just one!
All The Things We Never Said Masterlist
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Frankie, Present 
“Bring these next door.” 
His mother doesn’t even ponder the idea of phrasing it as a question when she practically drops the plate of chocolate chip cookies into Frankie’s lap. 
“Ma, it’s 7:30 in the morning.” Frankie looks up at her dumbfounded. 
“And? You’ve never eaten a cookie for breakfast when you’re sad? Go now, they’re still warm.” 
There’s no way he’ll be able to head anywhere but straight out his front door, but Christ, he at least hoped he would have been able to buy himself a little time before having to face you.
“I just got back from a run. I smell like shit. Can I at least shower first, por favor?” 
“Fine,” she groans, reluctant to give in so easily, “but be quick. Don’t think I won’t turn the hot water off, mijo. I don’t want these getting cold.”
She knows her son would take an hour long shower if he could. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s spent way too long in the bathroom, over analyzing every inch of himself before going to see you. His mom isn’t sure if she should thank you or not for her son’s dedication to hygiene. She could barely get him to shower for the first 10 years of his life, but after you moved in, a few days before the start of 6th grade, bathing had magically no longer become an issue. 
Frankie understands her threat of an ice cold shower is very real, and a very effective way to finally get him four doors down. He lets the hot water wash over his skin, turning it to a temperature that’s almost too painful to stand. He hopes that somehow, it’s hot enough to wash away all the sins he’s prayed you’d forgive him for, that the regret of every poor decision he’s been plagued by washes down the drain, disappearing never to be seen again. 
He wishes it was that easy. That a simple shower would grant him the forgiveness he’s not sure you’ll ever give him. He wouldn’t blame you if you never did. 
He forces himself to put on the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that he pulls out of his suitcase. If he doesn’t, he’ll be stuck in his room for the rest of the day trying to figure out what to wear to bring a plate of cookies to your doorstep. 
“You should apologize, you know.” It’s the first thing his mom has to say to him as he makes his way down the stairs, barely three steps into the kitchen before she’s at his throat again. 
“For bringing them dessert at 7:30 in the morning? I was planning on it.” Frankie huffs, trying to deflect the plan for the real apology he knows he should be making. 
“Dios mio, Francisco, you know what I mean. I hope you’ve thought about how you’re going to explain yourself to her. You owe that girl an apology for the hell you’ve put her through.” 
Frankie can’t blame his mother for the way she’s twisting the knife that’s stuck in his gut. He’s the one who put it there in the first place. 
“I know. I’ve thought about it, believe me.” 
They both know that’s the truth. Frankie’s spent more hours than he can count thinking about what possible combination of words he can string together that won’t make you hate him anymore than you already do. In fact, he’s spent so long thinking about it, replaying the million and one things he could say to you over and over in his head, that he’s convinced there’s nothing he could tell you that would buy him even a shred of forgiveness. 
“Fuck you, Mackenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.” 
Three years ago, he disappeared out of your life and those were the last words he left you with. He's spent three years of letting the last thing he had to say you haunt him like some sort of ugly ghost he can't forget.
At this point, there's a part of him that's not even sure he's worthy of forgiveness.
“Mom?” Frankie asks, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “Am I making a huge fucking mistake coming back here?” 
“Well mijo,” She pauses, gently cradling her son’s face, lifting his chin enough to let his tired, worn eyes meet hers, “That, I cannot tell you. Some things you have to figure out on your own. I think this is one of them. But what I can tell you,” she stops again, ensuring Frankie is listening, really listening to what she has to say, “is that you have never been one to leave things unfinished. I think there are still things left to finish here for you, Francisco.”  
The slow nod of his head in her palm tells her he’s heard every word. He knows he needs to finish what he’s started. 
“You also need to finish bringing these cookies to the Andersons, sí? Don’t think I forgot.”   
“Didn’t think you would.” 
Frankie’s not sure the walk to your house has ever felt this long. Every step against the pavement makes his feet feel heavier, weighing his body down, its final attempt at keeping him from showing up at your front door. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to get him there, but he does. He won’t himself fail you again. He can’t. 
When he knocks on your door, he’s suddenly 11 years old, palms sweating and heart racing as he rings your doorbell for the first time, hoping the cool girl who moved in down the street still wants to play football with him. 
Right now, he’d give anything to be that 11 year old boy again. God, what he’d give to grab little him by the shoulders and shake all of the stupid decisions he plans on making in the years to come right out of him. He’d give anything for someone to come shake the stupid out of him now.
Seconds pass like hours as he waits for someone to answer his knock. Maybe it won’t be you who does. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it'll be your mom. Maybe your dad, who is sitting on his literal deathbed, will be blessed with some divine miracle that grants him the strength to get up and answer the door instead of you. 
“Be right there!” 
He’d recognize your voice anywhere. It’s been three years since he’s heard it. Even with all the time that’s passed, there’s not a doubt in his mind he knows it’s yours. 
Fuck, he’s missed the sound of you more than he’d ever like to admit.  
He braces himself as the lock clicks on the other side of the door. The knot in his stomach tightens as he watches it open. 
His heart wants to burst out of his chest when you finally appear on the other side. 
“F-Frankie?” 
“Hi, Mackenzie.” 
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Frankie, Fall of 2002, Age 14
It’s been 3 years, and Frankie still rings your doorbell every time he’s at your front door. Both you and your parents have been more than adamant he’s welcome to let himself in, at this point, they leave the door unlocked just for him. 
As much as he wants to just slip through the front door unannounced to see you, he knows his mom would kill him if he didn’t wait to be let in and make his presence known. 
“Francisco, I do not care how often you are over there, you are a guest in their home. If they are gracious enough to let you over, the least you can do is use your manners and greet them at the door.” 
Frankie’s always been polite, but the world would stop spinning before his mother would let anyone else even have an inkling of thinking otherwise. 
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind. He’d be hard pressed to find any 14 year old who didn’t have some sort of complaint about their parents, but you never really do, and he can see why. 
They’re your parents, and he loves his mamá more than life, but the Anderson’s had taken Frankie under their wing from the moment he had crossed the threshold from their patio to their living room and never looked back. 
It didn’t take long for the three toned chime of your doorbell to become the favorite part of his daily routine. 
“Hi Frankie! Come on in, honey.” 
Mrs. Anderson has that soft kind of sweetness that would make anyone’s day brighter, the kind of gentleness that a gardener has when tending to a field of their favorite flowers. She’s the type of person that would put anyone before herself, to a fault. It’s no wonder that given the circumstances, a house that should be shrouded in sadness is one of the places that Frankie feels the happiest. 
“Thanks Mrs. Anderson. Can I put this in the freezer for Kenz? I figured she may want it when she gets home later.” Frankie gestures down to the chocolate chip cookie dough Blizzard he’s holding, trying to keep it from melting any further. 
It’s become a sacred ritual that every Friday night, you and him ride your bikes to the Dairy Queen two miles down the road. He always gets an Oreo Blizzard, you, a chocolate chip cookie dough one. On the few Friday nights you can’t spend together, it’s an unspoken agreement that a Blizzard will still end up in the other’s freezer for the next day. It’s only happened once that a cookie dough Blizzard hasn’t been found in your residence within 24 hours of the start to your weekend- the one time Frankie was out of town to visit his family, you were pleasantly surprised to find not one, but two Blizzards in your freezer on Monday night upon his return. 
 “Frank the Tank! How’s it going, buddy?” 
It’s always nice to see your dad up and around the house. His cancer has taken a lot of things from him, but his personality certainly isn’t one of them. Some bouts of chemo and treatment are worse than others, but it never ceases to keep Mr. Anderson from being the happiest man Frankie’s ever met. You always tease Frankie that he comes over to your house so often just so he can spend time with your dad. While of course it’s not 100% true that Doug Anderson is the only reason Frankie finds himself at your doorstep nearly every day, he also won’t deny the sense of comfort it brings him that your dad treats him like his own son. 
“Hi Mr. Anderson!” Frankie smiles, shoving your Blizzard in the top left corner of your freezer between the ice packs and frozen vegetables. 
“Another Blizzard for me? Always so generous, Frank. I’m convinced you might start running a Dairy Queen out of our kitchen pretty soon.” Mr. Anderson teases, giving Frankie a light punch to the shoulder. “How’d your algebra test go the other day, bud?” 
“Pretty good, I think.” Frankie shrugs, trying to play off his confidence. 
“Think you got a higher score than Kenzie?” 
“I think so. But don’t tell her that.” 
“Oh believe me, I will. Smart kid like you has gotta put her in her place every once and a while.” 
Frankie blushes. School has never been his strong suit. He’s smart in the way he could fix just about anything from the time he could barely walk, but sitting in a classroom trying to absorb information through reading, taking notes and test taking has always made him feel like an idiot. You, on the other hand, could graduate in your sleep with straight A’s. He’s not sure how you do it, but it’s enough motivation to make him want to at least try. He thanks his lucky stars that this year, math is finally starting to make sense, and he’s got the upper hand on you for now. 
“Is Kenz upstairs? I know she’s got her soccer banquet tonight, I just wanted to hang out for a little before she has to go.” 
Normally he wouldn’t mind staying longer to talk to your dad, but on days he knows he’s working on a limited time table, efficiency is of the essence. 
“Should be. If not, we have a problem on our hands.” 
Frankie scurries from the kitchen and through the living room, up the familiar and well traveled path to your bedroom door. His heart always races a little faster every time he reaches the top step to the second floor. 
Normally, it’s three long strides to cross the threshold into your bedroom before he plops himself on the edge of your bed, but as he takes a left turn at the top of the stairwell, he’s surprised to find your bedroom door is closed, and locked. 
“Kenz! It’s me! Open up!” Frankie raps his fist on the back of your door, knuckles thumping against the wood. 
“Not now, Frankie!” 
He’s taken aback by your protest, scrunching his brow at your response and the distress in your voice through the other end of the door. 
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asks, now a little more concerned. 
“It’s just- Ugh! It’s nothing! It’s stupid, okay! I just don’t have time for this right now!” 
You and him both know that’s not enough to get him to leave. Frankie is persistent. He’s not going anywhere until you open that door and he gets an answer as to what’s making you so upset. 
“C’mon, MacKenzie.” 
He only pulls the full name card for serious occasions, because he knows it’ll work. It’ll work every time. That’s why he can’t help but smirk at the click of your door handle unlocking, giving him permission to step inside. 
Except he can’t. 
“Kenz, get off the door and let me in!” 
“I’m not on the door! Ugh, hold on.” 
With the force Frankie was using, he nearly falls flat on his face as the barricade you’d built on your side of the door is removed, stumbling into your room and landing face first in a pile of clothes. As he looks up, he’s greeted with a sight he’s never once seen before in your room, and he has no idea what to make of it. 
“Jesus Christ, dude, what happened in here?!” 
To say a bomb had exploded in your closet would have been a polite way to put it. Every piece of clothing you owned was now a casualty on your bedroom floor, down to every last pair of shoes. You could barely stand to have a singular, stray sock on the ground, your bedroom always the near picture perfect scene of immaculately neat. So to see the disaster your room had become, Frankie knew that something had gone very, very wrong. 
“I don’t have anything to wear for tonight!” 
“Yeah you do, have you seen all the clothes on your floor? I think you have enough clothes for a small village.” 
“Francisco!” 
If she’s already pulling the full name card on him too, it must be serious. 
“Sorry! Is this because of the end of the season soccer party tonight? I thought you said you were just gonna wear like, a skirt or something?” 
Frankie’s never even contemplated the idea of you being upset over an outfit. You’d always been amicable in the wardrobe department- t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, same has him. This is uncharted territory for the both of you. 
“Yeah, but then at lunch today Katie and Morgan said all of the Seniors want to dress up, like, really nice, and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know what to wear and I don’t wanna look like an idiot Freshman who shows up in something dumb.” 
Frankie knows you’re stressed from how intensely you’re picking at the skin around your nails, leg bouncing furiously while your eyes dart around the room at the heaps of clothes stacked around the floor. 
“You’re not gonna look dumb, Kenzie. You’re the only Freshman that’s made the Varsity soccer team in like, a million years. Hard to look stupid if you’re that good.” 
It may not be much help, but it’s at least enough to bring you off the brink of tears. 
“I guess,” you pause, too stubborn to admit that he’s right, “It’s just- all the other girls on the team are so pretty. When we’re playing it doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re all sweaty and gross, but- I don’t know, I feel like I’m gonna look so awkward next to everyone.” 
But you are pretty. 
It’s the first thought that pops into Frankie’s brain. He’s not sure how it got there so fast. All of a sudden he feels a hundred degrees hotter, hoping you won’t notice the way he visibly tries to shake the thought out of his head.. 
Where did that come from? She’s your friend, Frankie. Your best friend. She’s not pretty, she’s just MacKenzie. 
“You won’t look awkward, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.” He’s relieved his response doesn’t seem to raise any suspicions, like you would have been able to read his mind and watch his thinking play out in real time. 
“If I um- If I- Never mind, this is stupid! Ugh, this is stupid.” 
You’re pacing now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest, he’s worried you’re going to squeeze your own eyes out like one of those little squishy toys you win from a claw machine. That’s if you don’t burn a hole in your carpet first. 
“What?” 
“If I-” You stammer again, scrunching your face at your own frustration, “If I try on what I think I should wear, will you tell me if it looks dumb or not?” 
You’ve asked Frankie plenty for plenty of favors in the three years you’ve known him- being the one to lead the two of you home on a bike ride in the dark, opening your pudding for you at lunch because it exploded on you once and you’re terrified it will again, catching the giant spider that makes a recurrence in the top right corner of your bedroom and throwing it out the window- He’s not sure why out of all those things, this is the most terrifying favor you’d ever asked of him. 
“Y-yeah. Okay.” 
The two of you quietly nod at each other for a moment, Frankie hoping that he’s not the only one who’s wondering why the air has all of a sudden seemed to have gotten thicker. 
“Okay. Well, um- turn around.” You point for him to take his usual spot on the edge of the bed, ensuring that his back’s to you and eyes only have the choice to roam the floor or the wall above your desk before he hears the shuffling of clothes behind him. 
It’s then that everything starts to move in slow motion, like a flip has suddenly switched in Frankie’s brain as a wave of unsolicited thoughts begin to flood his head, feeling himself drown in the panic and confusion that’s washing over him. 
What if he did turn around? You’re probably taking off your clothes right now. Are you in just your underwear? What color is it? Maybe you’re all the way naked. What would you look like? Why does he all of a sudden want to know so bad? What’s wrong with him? 
In his manic state, his eyes are darting everywhere, trying to find something to lock onto that will shake him from whatever obscene cycle of thought he’s caught himself in. He instantly regrets when he lets his gaze fall to his feet, because peeking out of the pile of clothes beneath him is the better part of a bra. 
Your bra. 
He feels so awful that he can’t stop looking at it. So guilty that he can’t help the fact he’s trying to commit every detail of it to his brain- the teal and green polka dots, the thin lace that covers the shoulder strap, the little bow that sits in between the two cups where your breasts would go. He can’t stop staring. He can’t stop thinking about  what you would look like in it. The only thing that stops him is hearing your voice from over his shoulder. And somehow, your voice only makes his chest feel tighter. 
“You promise you won’t make fun of me if I look stupid?” Your words are so soft, delicate and fragile in a way he’s never heard you use them before. However scared you are, right now, Frankie would be willing to take that feeling and triple it for himself. 
“Promise.” 
His eyes are still closed when he swings his legs over the other edge of the bed. He’s too afraid to open them. 
“You’re gonna have to open your eyes, unless you’ve suddenly obtained x-ray vision that you haven’t told me about in the last thirty seconds.” 
The way you tease him grounds him enough to give in. It doesn’t ground him enough from leaving him speechless the moment he opens his eyes. 
“Kenz… You uh, you- um-” 
He’s stumbling over his words, trying to find them fast enough to stop the disappointment that’s flooding over your face because you think he hates the way you look. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. 
“I look dumb, don’t I? It’s fine, Frankie, you can just say it.” You’re back to pacing again, storming around your room with a desperate, crazed look in your eye. “Ugh! This sucks! Why is this so hard, I just wanna-” 
“You look really pretty.” 
It stops you dead in your tracks. He can almost hear how hard you gulp, looking back at him like a deer in headlights. 
“W-what?” 
You ask it like you didn’t hear exactly what he said. He knows you did. You always do. It doesn’t stop him from trying to twist his words to help him out of the hole he’s already dug himself into. 
“Your- Your dress. It looks really nice. You should wear it.” 
He’s not sure how much time passes as the two of you finally lock eyes. Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? An hour? The way you’re looking at him right now is enough to make his world stop turning. It only makes it worse that he swears he can see your lips trying to fight the smile that’s slowly curling in the corner of your mouth. 
“MacKenzie! We need to go, sweetie! Dad and I will meet you in the car!” 
Frankie doesn’t know if it’s divine intervention or a devilish curse that your mom is calling for you from the bottom of the stairs. Whatever it is, it’s enough to snap both of you out of the strange spell that had overcome your bedroom and make Frankie feel like the only appropriate response was to race out of your house and hide in embarrassment for the next forty-eight hours. 
“I should um- I should go, too. Santi’s probably waiting for me at his house. Have fun tonight, okay?” 
“Yeah, o-okay. You have fun, too. Tell Ding Dong I say hi. See you tomorrow?” 
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” 
Frankie’s in a trance the rest of the night. Physically, he spends the next few hours in Santi’s basement, glued to the couch while his friend yells at him that he’s not using the right combination of moves to max out his points in Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3. Mentally, he’s convinced he no longer exists on the same planet as anyone else around him.
When he gets home, all he can do is stare at his ceiling. If he closes his eyes to try to fall asleep, the only thing he can see is that teal and green bra laying on your bedroom floor.
He wishes the thought of you in it didn’t make his stomach churn. He wishes it wasn’t you he was picturing when he lets his hand creep below the waistband of his sweatpants. He wishes it wasn’t your name he was muttering under his breath as he makes a mess in hand, hips stuttering into his grasp. 
He wishes it wasn’t you. 
At least that’s what he tells himself. Maybe one day, it’ll work. 
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charliedawn · 3 months ago
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slashers(Jason,Michael and Brahms only) with beautiful undead yet friendly bride Reader who is like Emily(from Corpse Bride) and She refers them as Her "Victor" (btw,are you fan of Tim Burton? if not then that's okay)
(Here you go ! Thank you for the request and indeed, I am a big fan of Tim Burton. Hope you’ll like it 👍)
Jason Voorhees:
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Jason was scared half-to-death (see what I did there ? 😂) when he saw that rotten bride just sprang out from the very earth he usually buries the bodies of his victims in. Not gonna lie, he kinda ran back to his cabin when he saw you—‘cause if his mama taught him anything ? It was that dead people don’t come back to life for no good reason. The poor boy locked himself up twice. But, it wasn’t enough to stop you. You eventually came in and started haunting him. He tried to shoo you away at first because Jason likes his loneliness, his space. Actually, he doesn’t like people in general—dead or alive. So, Jason tried everything to get rid of you. He swung his axe at you and tried to catch you or trap you, but all his efforts were fruitless. He finally gave up and let you haunt him. But, he didn’t regret it. As you are a ghost, you could guard his home and warn him of any danger nearby. It was nice having someone watching over his back for once.
…But then, you saw it.
The machete that killed you.
On his wall.
You looked back at Jason and your undead heart squeezed in your chest. Had he…? Was he the one who had killed you ? On your wedding day nonetheless ? Wasn’t he your Victor ? And if not. Who was he ?
Brahms Heelshire:
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Brahms likes to play pretend. He dreamt of having that special someone he could one day propose to and have his happy ever after moment. He was thinking about it and had one of those gummy rings he had saved from his snack time. He was in the forest and had decided to have himself a little repetition for the unforeseeable future and that’s when he saw one peculiar branch that looked like a finger. He didn’t think more about it and did his little game of pretending…and when he put the ring on the finger. Well…He certainly didn’t expect some half-rotten bride to spurt out of the earth and shout:
"I DO."
But it did. That happened. And then, you wouldn’t leave him—not that he minded. Far from it. He was happy to have a wife (even though the kisses and hugs were a lil’ cold) He wondered about telling people about his…well…new ‘bride’. But, he thought better of it when he realised how lonely and sad you were. It didn’t matter that you called him Victor. Or Marvin. Or Hector. Or Derek for that matters…He would take any name if it meant you would stay and love him. And you had said ‘I do’. No takebacksies now.
Michael Myers:
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Michael was confused when he first saw you sprang up from the earth. Weird. His victims usually stayed dead. He tried to stab you but…Oops. Already dead. He quickly realised that you must be like Jack Torrance—a ghost. He also understood that stabbing you would be a waste of time. He tried to ignore you, but you would then appear at random times and tell him that you were married and that he was your Victor. As Michael doesn’t speak, he couldn’t rectify you.
Hence, he became ‘Victor’ to you.
At the end, he learnt to tolerate your presence. Especially at night when he would normally sleep alone with his regrets, he would feel your hand stroking his head and your voice singing him lullabies…Maybe having a dead bride wouldn’t be that bad…?
One day, you showed him an old picture of you. He looked at it and you could see that something was bothering him. You asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell you he remembered you. He didn’t tell you he remembered your wide frightened eyes when he plunged his knife deep into your heart the day you were supposed to marry…or the way he mercilessly beheaded your betrothed.
That was a story he would rather never share with you.
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scimagic · 4 days ago
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do you have any headcanon about mr puzzles dad/his and mr puzzles relationships?
BOY DO I!!!
Sit down let me take you on a sad sad journey about a sad sad man
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Let me get this one right off the bat:
Puzzles is an only child of divorce
His parents took a shared custody when he was really young, leaving little Puzzles in a shaky unstable situation
The only good side to that is that he was able to go to amusement parks twice on his birthday
Hence, his love for amusement parks (practically his happiest memories)
It was a twice-a-year happening. Two whole days to have fun and ignore whatever the hell was happening with the adults!
Best of all it was all about him!! His birthday! His gifts! His big day! He loved seeing everyone in the park having fun just like him
But of course, when he told his dear old papa about his brilliant idea, he was shut down
That's when the problems began to brew a little more
His relationship with his father was always a strict one; Mr Dad was a strict man, straight to the point and harsh towards life
I imagine he was in some sort of white collar job, manager or administrator, some type of job that slowly kills your creativity and makes you a strict parent
So you can imagine the type of relationship a parent like that would have with his creatively-inclined son
I don't necessarily think he was a bad person, none of that physical abuse stuff. More like- raised his voice a lot, spoke in harsh tones and widely misunderstood his kid
Because of that, Puzzles began to dislike his father when he stayed with him, even if most of the time he was up in his room watching TV by that point
They never really saw eye to eye after that, Mr Dad kept trying to move his son away from creative fields and Puzzles just kept pushing against authority to pursue his dreams
By the time he grew up, he practically cut off all contact with his father
He's still angry and bitter that his old man never even gave him a chance to prove that he Does have creative vision and can make something truly great
And to rub it in his face and say "I told you so" and give him a big finger FHDJKSA
Even if his father doesn't see what Puzzles accomplished (for whatever reason), he would still be able to say he did it
Now that he's in prison though, now he regrets it even more because he never got to show how wrong his father was
The hate has been brewing, got spilled, and is still brewing
He's a very vengeful-driven man hfjkdsa
Sometimes the thought of his father being right crosses his mind but he tries to shut it down
However- the only thing that Puzzles wants more than to prove his father wrong, is to prove himself right
That's why he's a lil fucked up and is where he is right now <3
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stellarbit · 3 months ago
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Guilty Pleasure
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Word Count: 2.8k Pairing: post finale Crosshair x fem jedi!reader, past references to techxreader (tech girlies beware this one might hurt) Warnings: well its post finale, so some sad tech talk. angst and a lil fluff and bad proof reading Summary: Even with everything over and everyone back on Pabu, you and Crosshair still hadn't discussed a few things. Him hunting you, his feelings for you, or Tech. It was time. Some literal guilty pleasure.
You’d been separated from Clone Force 99 for months before your paths crossed again and Crosshair was long gone.
Initially, you attributed Crosshair’s continued attempts on your life to the influence of the inhibitor chip. But when Crosshair admitted that his chip was removed, your anger was uncontrollable—echoing the fury you felt on Kaller, the day he turned against you.
Your rage faded when you accidentally stumbled upon an old trunk filled with his gear. Buried under his armor was a small bundle of fabric. His privacy meant little at that point so you plucked it out and undid the bundle.
Inside, you found a tiny tube made from woven straw—a playful gift you had once hidden in his pack as a lighthearted jest about his constant need for toothpicks. The memory of him discovering it on a mission, his irritation palpable as he scolded you for invading his space, flashed through your mind. 
Seeing this keepsake tucked away amongst his most personal items confused you.
Turning the fabric over in your hand you recognized it as material from your old Jedi robe. When you chose armor over cloth you chose to discard the last physical remains of your Jedi life. 
Before you threw the robe away, however, you had playfully snipped off a hand-sized piece and tossed it into Crosshair’s lap, teasing him that it would be the closest he'd ever get to truly 'touching' a Jedi.
The only two things you’d ever given him and he’d kept them even after Kaller. You thought back to Crosshair before Kaller and some things looked different now.
His cutting remarks, always sharp and ready, his teasing, the intense way he often watched you—what you had once perceived as dismissive and aggravating, designed to unsettle you, now seemed to have been his attempt at playful banter. It was his own manner of expressing familiarity, albeit aggressively.
Hidden in the memories of butting heads, you dug up moments of subtle gentleness from the sniper. There were times he offered you a hand while navigating unsteady ground and carrying your pack - albeit biting about slowing the squad down.
There had been a time or two when you caught what could only be described as the ghost of a smile on Crosshair's lips—a hint that perhaps he found you attractive. Yet, his careful distance had always reassured you there was nothing more to it.
Now, looking at the items before you, doubts crept in. He had kept these tokens; he must have felt something for you, however slight. How had you failed to notice any signs?
When you heard footsteps on approach you made quick work of putting the trunk back together and in its place. It wasn’t until you saw Tech, checking your progress locating the tools, that a thought dawned on you.
Tech—the brother to whom Crosshair had been closest, the one he had always been perfectly in sync with. The one who looked at you like you were something to covet.
It all became very obvious. Of course, Crosshair would have been aware of Tech’s affection for you. Not much got past him, not with his sniper’s instinct for reading the subtleties of his surroundings.
To Crosshair, Tech’s natural ease around you would have been painfully clear. His loyalty towards his brother meant he would never do anything to undermine Tech’s happiness.
Yet, through it all he’d kept a piece of you for himself.
It made a funny feeling float through your chest. A mix of regret and gratitude.
Crosshair was an objective and loyal man. He put things above himself. His feelings, his wants, they didn’t  matter to him compared to his duties.
Eventually, you found it impossible to hold any resentment towards him for his actions. It was simply who he was. Even his actions that felt so deeply personal were dictated by his role as a soldier of the Empire. His entire sense of purpose was defined by his commitment to his duties.
Yet he still tucked away, in a corner only he’d see, a part of you to himself.
Looking up at Tech, the man you so thoroughly adored, gratitude swelled in you. The least you could do was forgive and accept Crosshair for who he was. You decided to extend him the patience and love he didn’t allow himself.
In his absence, you’d honor that by keeping his brothers safe for him. As you followed Tech out of the Marauder, you silently vowed to never let anything happen to them again.
A vow you failed to keep.
With each trek across the galaxy in search of Omega, alongside Wrecker and Hunter, the weight of your unkept promise grew heavier. The first sign of relief came unexpectedly—a transmission from Omega, her voice crackling through the Marauder’s comms.
You were only a hair’s breadth behind Wrecker when you ran to Omega. You stood back as Wrecker twirled her around, watched her run to Hunter, and allowed them the space of a family.
A familiar sensation hummed over your shoulder. A feeling you hadn’t felt since…
You swung around and standing in the light of the ship was Crosshair.
Weeks went by and reconnecting with Crosshair was more difficult than you anticipated. You’d both changed and the space left by Tech constantly hung between you.
Crosshair needed the same time and space he’d once afforded you. You wouldn’t push him, but that didn’t stop you from poking him. He was more compliant than when you first met and time on Pabu with Omega only made him more so.
When Omega told you about meditating with Crosshair, you knew you had to make the most of the opportunity.
On the back side of the island, there was a natural pool that became a frequent haunt of yours for meditation.
Floating in the waters, eyes shut and head relaxing on a rock, you’d been waiting and ready with your senses extended. Of all the brothers, Crosshair was the one who kept no pretenses about going unnoticed. He knew well that if he could spot someone watching him from a klick away, a former Jedi like you would easily sense him without even sight.
“Omega said you wanted me.” Crosshair’s voice cut through the quiet.
You twisted in the water, pushing yourself to sit up. “Took you long enough.”
“You’re lucky I came.” He retorted, arms crossed and shifting his weight onto one hip. He surveyed you with a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
As you sat up, the waterline dipped just enough to reveal that the cloth wrapping your chest was now transparent. You noted his sharp intake of breath before he clicked his tongue and looked away, a subtle blush on his cheeks.
You smiled and gestured to the empty pool beside you, “Join me.”
His lip curled into his nose, “Why?” You didn’t deign him with a response, instead remaining with your hand outstretched.
Crosshair sighed and moved to sit on the rocks bordering the water. You splashed a bit of water at him. “Ah-ah! I meant join me in the water, Crosshair.”
His eyes narrowed on you, but after a moment of grumbling, he began to strip off his clothes. The moment the skin of his abdomen came into view, you averted your eyes, suddenly realizing you weren’t as prepared for this you thought.
Crosshair finally stepped into the water, his movements slow. He stood there for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next move, as the water lapped quietly around him.
You reached out and tugged on one of his fingers, coaxing him deeper into the water. “Sit back,” He let you guide, but he was stiff as stone, sitting rigidly against the rocks.
You sat adjacent to him, giving him ample space to relax if he so chose.
Despite the serene environment, Crosshair remained tense, his gaze fixed on the water in front of him, his thoughts miles away. Leaning through the water, you gripped his calf and pulled it over your lap. The sudden motion caused him to slip slightly; his hands scrambled through the water, seeking stability.
Now forcibly reclined, he pursed his lips but withheld whatever comment he had simmering. You met his resistance with a raised eyebrow and a light pinch, “Stay with me. Now, lay back.”
He blinked a few times, but again he complied. His head was resting against a stone behind him, his body from the chest down beneath the water line. You began to massage his calves. As you worked he spoke., “Why did you call me here?” His eyes were on the sky, deliberately avoiding yours.
“They say water’s supposed to be good for healing.” You mused, watching him carefully. For once, your roles were reversed. You took in everything about him while he sat back, trying to shut you out. 
“And who, exactly, is ‘they’?”
“Old, dead Jedi,” you replied with a light scoff, but the humor faded quickly. Your gaze dropped to your hands, momentarily still on Crosshair’s leg. You had referenced the Jedi Purge so casually, yet between you and Crosshair, it was anything but lighthearted.
“Crosshair-”
“I’m sorry.” He interrupted, his eyes finally meeting yours. For hunting you.
Your stomach twisted at the sight of him. His head tilted to the side, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed tightly. He looked defeated, ashamed, devastated. “I—”
You lurched forward, placing a hand over his mouth. Crosshair’s eyes darted between your touch and your face. You couldn’t think too much about touching because thinking of how close you were was distracting in and of itself.
“Don’t,” you said, your voice wavering. Your hand then slipped to cradle his chin, your head shaking gently. “You don’t need to say that. I know who you are, Crosshair.” His eyes widened in surprise, and when you started to pull your hand away, he quickly grasped your wrist, holding onto the contact.
Despite the emotion swelling in your chest, your voice was steady. “Whatever happened, whatever you’ve done - it’s not changed how much I care about you.” You held his eyes, hoping to reach the dark parts of him he clung to. Leaning closer you swept a thumb over his cheek. “So let me be here for you.”
The next breath he took wasn’t shaky, but smooth and sure. He closed his eyes and, on exhale, opened them looking a little lighter. Crosshair gave a small nod, softer than you ever thought possible.
Giving his face a gentle squeeze, you smiled, removed your hand, and sat back. Sitting back, your chest lifted above the water again. Crosshair’s eyes dipped for a moment before looking skyward again and drifting shut once more.
Your hands drifted back to his calves still laying across your lap. The flutter of his eyes and the little hitch in his breath didn’t escape your attention. It made your fingers dig in harder. 
“Seeing you in your old armor has been nice.” 
He only grunted in response.
You fidgeted for a moment, but casually probed, “Was everything in your trunk the way you’d left it?”
“I’m wearing it all, aren't I?”
You lowered your voice, saying “I wasn’t talking about your armor.” The sniper tensed under your touch. “Cross.” You watched him, eyes averted, swallow. 
A muscle feathered in his jaw, “You looked through my trunk.”
You made no attempt to hide it. “I did. You kept a few things of mine.”
“I did.” He matched your limited honesty.
“Why?”
Crosshair’s lips tightened into a wry smile and his head fell to the side to face you. “Why don’t you take a guess?”
You blinked absently, a thoughtful frown tugging at you. You weren’t sure if this was a line he wanted you to cross. Or if you wanted to for that matter. Leaving it up to him you said, “You tell me.”
Crosshair stared at you for a few beats, looking between your eyes, but pushed up in the water as opposed to divulging anything. Drawing his legs off of yours, he stood in the water and silently climbed his way out of the pool.
He was shutting down and shutting you out.
Panicking, you stood to go after him, pleading. “Crosshair, stop.” Stretching out from the pool you managed to clip a finger. “Please. I’m sorry, I-”
Crosshair yanked his hand from yours, his fingers curling into fists. Keeping his back to you, Crosshair tilted his head like he was considering looking back. He was struggling and the panic of having broached the subject at all sunk into you.
Finally, his feet shifted and turned to face you again. His knuckles went white and he broke the silence, “You were… the first time Tech cared about someone other than our squad. I saw how he looked at you.”
Tech’s name stole the air from you. You’d not said it out loud in so long and this wasn’t the way you wanted to. 
Crosshair didn’t give you a choice, he crouched to your level and continued, “But he wasn’t the only one who saw you.” He let out a low breath, like he was free of a weight he’d held for so long.
An odd flutter rattled through you. Perched there in front of you, Crosshair was every bit the sharpshooter you’d first met. Seeing right through you and something in his eyes. Something you were never able to place before now.
It was want. He wanted you.
The thought stilled you. He still wanted you.
Crosshair dropped his head, whispering in a pained voice, “And I couldn’t - I won’t-”
You couldn’t listen to another word, so you broke your own heart, you said, “Tech wouldn’t want you living like that.” 
Crosshair’s head snapped up and he was just as shocked as you were. Shocked at you admitting a very hard truth. 
You opened your mouth to say something, but couldn’t find a single syllable to say. Didn’t know if you even could if you did. Before you lost your nerve, you pushed yourself from the waters and looped your arms around Crosshair’s neck.
Crosshair remained firm against the weight of you, his arms hesitantly reciprocating your embrace. The two of you sat like that for some time, soaking wet and holding each other with only your breathing to the silence. 
Clearing his throat, Crosshair gently untangled you. He pushed you back just enough to see your face. 
His eyes fell to your lips and when he met your eyes again there was something heavy in him. There had always been something unspoken between you and it now sat like a hot coal between you.
Your lips parted and caught his attention again. He swallowed and slowly brought his lips to yours, pausing one last time before pressing into you. Your response was immediate, deepening the kiss the moment your lips met. His hands were quick to settle on your waist, holding you against him and matching your fervor.
You didn’t want to feel everything at once. You just wanted to be lost in the feel of Crosshair and forget the rest. 
His hunger for you, buried for so long. flared to the surface. You felt and tasted better than he’d imagined. And he had imagined you often.
The burst of repressed fantasies caught Crosshair off guard enough that he broke the kiss. You were left panting and slightly dazed. Crosshair searched your flushed face for any sign of regret, but instead he found you doing the same to him.
This time you were the one to close the gap, gently pressing your lips together again. The kiss was softer and more intimate, allowing you to savor the feel of his lips. It had been a long time since you’d touched someone like this.
He tasted bittersweet.
Eventually you broke apart and both lowered to the ground. Crosshair hung his head back, sighed and a small smile lifted the corner of his lips. Leaning back on his good hand, Crosshair lifted a brow. “Was this your plan all along?”
You watched him for a moment, was he really joking right now?
Scoffing, you ran your fingers through your hair. “No.” Scooting over to Crosshair, you put a hand on his knee. With a genuine tone, you added “But thank you for coming out. And for-.”
Crosshair snorted,  interrupting you. “That’s enough of that for now.” Rolling onto his back and looking to the sky once more. Closing his eyes, he murmured sarcastically, “Healing waters, huh?”
“Something like that.”
taglist: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what @jetii
178 notes · View notes
spideysbruh · 11 months ago
Text
karma
summary- yn and shawn mendes break up. things get a little messy. timothee comes into the picture.
a/n- i can make shawn mendes a lil mean in this idc idc!!! also, ~~~ means time has passed
@popbase tweeted-
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BREAKING NEWS: Actress Y/N L/N and popstar Shawn Mendes have officially broken up after three years together.
@ynsperfectlywrong replied- WHAT NOOOO💔💔💔💔 MY PARENTS
@sabrinasyn replied to @ynsperfectltwrong- guess your @ is real now...
@spideysyn replied- TOO SOON 😭💔💔
@ynscinderella replied- you can tell they've been broken up for a while bc they used to alwayssss post each other and then it just Stopped.
@yngoddess replied- I wonder why... he did seem a little off towards the end
@whenyoureyn replied to @yngoddess- you don't know them.
@rodrigoyn replied- he's been detached from everything recently. she can only help him so much. I hope he gets better.
@lauriesrings replied to @rodrigoyn- fr maybe he'll write an album about it LMAO
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liked by melissabarrera, tchalamet, madisonbeer and 2,887,398 others
y/n alexa, play dangerous by madison beer
view all 43,826 comments
ynssocks OOOOF
madisonbeer great song 👍
y/n liked
ynstan MAKE HIM REGRET IT
chalshalamet has timmy always liked her posts ???
spideyyn bro's making a move 💀💀
shawnsyn that song though.... what did he to our girl😭😭😭
@celebritynews tweeted-
Shawn Mendes has recently spoken up about his and y/n l/n's breakup in a recent interview. "we were both just really wrong for eachother. towards the end, i felt like we were just completely different people. It wasn't like my previous relationships, it was almost suffocating."
He continued to say that the relationship was a great "learning experience", but still mentions his ex. "Our relationship was, for the most part, amazing, at the time it was a breath of fresh air. But it just wasn't how I imagined and previously experienced."
There are no comments yet from y/n on this.
@ynsgoldfish replied- oh so he's still in love w his ex.... and was constantly comparing the two girls and the two different relationships?? okay. got it. fuck this guy lol
@chappellyn replied- bro he's still obsessed with his ex im dead. didn't they date for like. one year barely 💀💀
@midnightyn replied- it wasn't like he "previously experienced" ummm maybe that's a good thing??? he's so fucking stupid.
@sunriseyn replied- remember when she had made a silly little tiktok about how she thought taron egerton was rly cute in Kingsman and Shawn then posted a video of him singing some sad song and also another tiktok showing how jealous he was LMAOOO sore loser. he doesn't know how good he had it with her.
@girlyyn replied to @sunriseyn- this^^^ like there were soooo many red flags w him but we were all just so in love w the idea of the relationship nobody saw it coming fr
@y/n tweeted-
my kink is karma
~~~
@popbase tweeted-
Shawn Mendes has just announced a new single! Releasing at the end of the month, titled 'Miss You More Than Anything'
@ynsgf replied- sooo embarrassing 💀💀
@fiveyn replied- bro realized too late LMAOOO sucks for him.
@chalametyns replied- it'd be sooooo funny if it was bad 💀
@bluecurtains replied- oh it will be 💀
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liked by tchalamet, florencepugh, dovecameron and 2,236,366 others
y/n feeling like a feather
view all 67,282 comments
sabsyn WITH YOU OUT MY LIFE 🗣🗣🗣
ynsbabe her post breakup journey has been so beautiful to watch tbh. I hope she finds someone who loves her fully
beachyyn 'post-breakup' it's been like almost a year already
tchalamet pretty
y/n 🫶💕
blankieyn UMMMM ??!?!!!
laurieslaurence wait- WAITTTTT
loveryn rue, when was this??
~~~
@popnews tweeted-
'Miss You More Than Anything' by Shawn Mendes has been out for several months, and is still the singers lowest grossing song ever.
@sabrinayn replied- the shadeeee 💀💀
@pinkyn replied- FOR Y/N UNITED WE STAND
@thankfulyn replied- I listened and... it's definitely a song with lyrics and a beat 😁
@warmyn replied- he'll never be loved by the masses again, it's crazy. almost sad... almost
@cineyn replied- "still" is so funny I cant
@timotheeyn replied- that's why she's with timothee now 💀
@sunnyyn replied to @timotheeyn- wait, it's confirmed?!???
@timotheeyn replied- not by them, but it's pretty obvious LMAO
tchalamet just posted a story!
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@y/n tweeted-
not a lot going on at the moment, but life is good 🙏🏼🙏🏼
@ynsgirlfriend replied- you're so funny girl I love you
@y/n replied- why am I funny? im just vibing fr
@ynsautumn replied- she's living her best life fr
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liked by tchalamet, shawnmendes, sabrinacarpenter and 3,287,272
y/n come with me... and you'll see...
view all 198,937 comments
lauriesrings THE WONKA REFERENCEEEE
rachelzegler literally the prettiest girl ever
y/n liked
y/n I literally love you so much.
ynsdinonuggets shawn liking is crazy 💀 SHE DONT WANT YOUU 🗣🗣🗣
piercetheyn imagine fumbling y/n 💀💀..... @shawnmendes IMAGINE 💀💀💀
tchalamet a worlddd of pure imagination !!!!
y/n omg youre my favorite actor hmu 😍
florencepugh so beautiful I miss you!!!
y/n liked
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liked by y/n, francesa.scorsese and 4,847,727 others
tchalamet one year with you is crazy. best year of my life. you're the sunlight on my darkest days and just what I need on the good ones. you are everything I've ever wanted in one person and even more than I ever imagined. I miss you even when I'm right beside you, but especially when I'm not. I Love you, Y/n L/n.
view all 322,727 comments
laurieslaurence BROOOOOO
y/n im crying in this panda express omg
tchalamet liked
y/n you make me feel so special and so so loved. happy one year, timmy 🩷
tchalamet you are loved. happy one year, my love
alessiacara yall are too cute omg
ynscurtains BRO ONE YEARRRRR !?!!
kylesballs ellos son mis padres 😁
y/n just posted a story!
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caption- 💕💕
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liked by madisonbeer, tchalamet and 3,186,616 others
y/n I love you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me. you came during a confusing, heartbreaking, tumultuous time in my life that I was sure I would never get through. but I did and you were my reward. god, what a reward. I am forever grateful for you and everything you've taught me, and are continuing to teach me. happy one year my beautiful Man.
view all 122,282 comments
ynsmotivation okay I may be delusional but 'Man' being capitalized... maybe cause shawn was, and still is, acting like a boy LMAOOO
tchalamet I love you my pretty, talented, inspiring, strong, beautiful girl.
liked by y/n
harpyn and NOTHING for shawn 🤭🤭 funny how things work out.
rachelzegler we gotta have a double date soon!!
liked by y/n
*
672 notes · View notes
sorbetisfruity · 1 year ago
Text
Part twooooo to my Crowely fic!!
Oh Crowley, why can’t you get your lazy crow ass up and find us a way home?:(((
Also I’m sorry for such a late post!! I fucked up my ankle and had to be in the hospital for a lil bit!
Part 1 Part two
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You awoke to frantic yelling. The person (people??? It sounded like more than one at this point…) sounded worried and scared.
“What did you do to them?! Why did we find them PASSED OUT on your office floor Dire Crowley?!” A voice screeched out.
Oh yeah, that’s what happened.
You went off on the headmaster of the school you were forced into. The school you were forced into because you were sent here on accident and that stupid mirror can’t send you back.
And that said headmaster hasn’t been looking for a way home for you.
Now, you have zero hope of going home.
And your body hurts.
Your body hurts a lot.
It feels like there’s a cauldron on your chest. It’s heavy. You can barely breath.
Your head feels as if Crowley hit you in the head with his cane a dozen times. You can’t tell if you’re about to throw up or pass out all over again..
“I didn’t do anything! They came in, and passed out on my floor.” Crowley defended himself, completely leaving out the whole “yelling and crying” part.
“It sounded like it was way more than that.” Someone chimed in, sounding tired and pissed off.
…was that Leona??
“It was more than that..” you croaked out, opening your eyes and trying to sit up. “Way more than that..actually..”
“PREFECT!!” A series of voices shouted. You could vaguely make out their blurry figures as they ran over to you.
“Prefect, are you alright?!” Deuce yelped as he was pushed to the side almost immediately by Floyd.
“Shrimpy!! We came as soon as we heardddd!! What happened? Do I need to squeeze somebody?” He said, winking as he pointed at Crowley.
You smiled weakly, admiring his efforts to make you feel better.
Your arms nearly gave out as you tried to sit up, you felt a hand land on your back to steady you.
“Take it easy. We don’t want you getting more hurt than you already are, Prefect.”
You looked to your other side, seeing Riddle in all of his glory.
God, was everyone here??
You looked around, seeing that, yeah, everyone really came to see you.
From Leona and Ruggie, to Malleus and Lilia.
You didn’t realize they cared so much about you..
God damnit.
This makes everything so much harder.
How were you supposed to go back home knowing these guys care about you?
“Hey Herbivore, you never answered us. What happened back there?” Leona spoke, sitting down on the edge of your bed and breaking your trance.
Were you in the nurses office???
“Oh..uhm..well..I went into Crowleys office to ask him if he finally found me a way home..” you said, seeing everyone’s expressions drop as you spoke.
Gazing at everybody, you realized their once concerned expressions now looked distraught and upset.
Especially Malleus’s. Who made eye contact with you before looking at the ground, not daring to look you in the eyes.
“As most of you know, we helped Vil with his overblot yesterday..”
“And I got hurt, everybody got hurt! I almost got poisoned, I am burnt and beaten, I LIMPED to Crowleys office. I didn’t walk, I limped because my leg hurts so fucking badly.”
You could see Vil flinch out of the corner of your eye, making you look down at the bed guiltily.
Everyone looked so sad. You’re making everyone sad.
God you feel awful..
“Listen, I’m only a student, okay? A magicless one at that. I don’t have any magic to fight like you guys do. I’m practically useless in fights and magic related classes!! Do you know how hard it is to tackle these overblots when you’re magicless? I have to rely on my strength to get through these fucking things. And when they’ve been happening back-to-back for WEEKS now?? It’s hard to heal. Mentally and physically.”
“And, I love you guys so much, I promise you. I don’t regret meeting or befriending any of you. I could never regret meeting or befriending any of you. Don’t get me wrong, you guys can get annoying!” You said, looking at Ace and Grim, who gave you an offended look.
“But I love you guys a lot. I couldn’t be happier to have friends like you all.”
After your little heart-to-heart speech, they seemed a lot happier.
Lilia came over to cling to you, grabbing your left arm as Grim jumped into your lap, nuzzling you lovingly.
Leona laid down at your feet, curled up. It almost seemed as if he was going to take a nap..
Malleus came over to your left side as well, joining Lilia as he held your hand.
Azul rubbed your back comfortingly as Kalim grabbed your other hand, an uncharacteristic frown on his face.
“But guys, I’m so tired. I’m in so much pain 24/7. I can barely get any sleep because I’m in constant agony.” You complained, frowning as you looked at your legs.
There were little colorful bandages placed on all of your cuts now. But the bruises littered around still remained. They popped out to you more than the neon bandages now.
“I miss home. I miss homecooked meals and my parents! I miss my old, warm bedroom and my bed! My bed at Ramshackle feels like I’m sleeping on concrete. The meals I cook don’t taste the same anymore. Hell I can barely afford food for both me and Grim because Crowley doesn’t give us enough money. There’s been so many nights where I’ve went to bed hungry because I didn’t want Grim to.”
You could feel everyone stare at you as you talked, making you feel embarrassed.
You’re really letting everyone know everything. All the bullshit you’ve went through since you got here.
“And it’s not like I can get a job anywhere around here because no one’s hiring! And I’ve already tried everywhere here. I’ve begged and pleaded with every shop owner here, but no one will hire me because they “don’t need any help” or “already have too much staff”! But I know the real reason is because I’m magicless. I can’t do anything if I don’t have magic!!” You squeezed Malleus’s and Kalims hands as you talked, gritting your teeth as you teared up.
“I’m just…I’m so sick of it guys. I love you all so much but..ever since I got here it’s been problems and battles and various accidents left and right. I’m exhausted. I’m homesick. I’m so burnt out!! Hell, I have no idea how I’m able to keep my grades up when most of these classes involve magic. I think the teachers just take it easy on me..” you trailed off, picking at a neon blue bandaid on your leg.
“I’m so sorry for causing all of this trouble. I never meant for any of this bullshit to happen, I..” you winced as you pulled a little too hard on the bandaid you were picking at.
“…I just wanted to see if he had found me a way home yet..”
The room was flooded with silence once you stopped talking.
No one knew what to say. And, really, what could they say?
Some understood how you felt. Others had no idea, as they have never experienced this before.
However, there was one emotion everyone in that room shared.
Sadness.
They could feel the sadness wash over them like waves as you talked about home and how you miss it.
Malleus’s hand squeezed yours consolingly, making you look up at everyone.
“..Prefect.”
You turned your head towards the voice.
It was Vil.
He never called you prefect. It was always Potato, or Spudling, or Kartoffel!
And Kartoffel is just potato in German..
“I am sorry you are in so much pain. And I am sorry I have caused you so much suffering. If you’d like, I’m quite sure there is some sort of healing potion I can brew for you. That way you are in as little agony possible.” Vil took your hand from Kalim, holding it gently as to not hurt you more than he already has.
This was out of character for Vil. You never saw a soft side of him during the VDC.
But you can’t say you didn’t like it. It has been a while since you’ve been nurtured and taken care of.
Hell that hasn’t happened since..
Since you were at home. With your mother.
“And me and Jamil can cook some food for you!!! A good meal will heal you up!” Kalim said excitedly, leaning against the bed to get closer to you as he talked.
“And you are always welcome at the Mostro Lounge if you ever need some time to relax and take a breather, Prefect.” Azul spoke, still rubbing your back comfortingly.
“As you know, you’re always welcome at Heartslabyul. If you ever want to play some crochet or cards, or simply just want to relax? We’re here.” Riddle spoke, gesturing to Ace, Deuce, Cater, and Trey.
“And if your bed ain’t comfortable, come over to Savanaclaw. My beds comfy and has room for two, Herbivore.” Leona chimed in, sitting up and smirking at you.
You teared up as you looked at everyone.
You can’t believe they care about you so much. That they’d stay here and listen to you talk and offer to help you. That they actually came to see you and are worried about you.
You can’t believe that they..
That they actually care.
Tears ran down your face like waterfalls, making you let go of Vil’s and Malleus’s hands to wipe them away quickly.
“I’m sorry it was never my plan to cry in front of you all..god this so embarrassing..” you sobbed, frantically wiping your tears away.
“Prefect no!! It’s okay to cry. It’s okay. You can cry. We’re here for you.” Kalim spoke calmly, climbing up onto the bed and wrapping his arms around you.
“Kalim is right. It’s okay to cry Prefect. Get it all out..” Riddle agreed, patting your shoulder.
You could feel someone’s pointed nails running through your hair and scraping your scalp gently. It was relaxing, it felt so nice. It made you feel sleepier than you already did.
Azul rubbing your back so softly didn’t help either..
You yawned, leaning against Kalims soft shoulder as you closed your eyes.
“..thank you. I love you all so much…” you spoke sleepily, weakly raising your head to look at everyone.
“Of course Prefect. While you’re sleeping, I’ll go and make that healing potion.”
“And me and Jamil will make you some food while you’re sleeping as well. That way when you wake up, it’ll be ready!”
“Jade and Floyd will bring down some of our finest desserts from the Mostro Lounge.”
“And it can all take place at Heartslabyul. We can all play Crochet and relax together.”
“I’ll take you back to Savanaclaw for now Herbivore. You can sleep in my bed instead of this thing.”
You heard them converse and decide what to do as you slowly fell asleep, feeling lighter and sleepier than you have in a while.
You couldn’t be more thankful to have such amazing friends.
“Sleep well, Prefect.”
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I’m so sleepy, and this is soooo longggg!! But I hope you guys enjoy it!!!!
1K notes · View notes
lilgarbitch · 1 month ago
Text
Touch, Torture, and Tattoos- Nicholas Ruffilo (One shot)
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Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x Reader
CW: tattoos/ description of getting one, bit of shitty plot, lots of dirty filthy evil smut 🤭, SassySubby!Nick (more like bratty switch), unprotected p in v(naughty lil fuckers), creampie, cockwarming???, my shitty writing 🫶🏻
Word Count: 10.8k👀
Author’s Note: Just a quick lil thing. Don’t ask what came over me to make this. Just know that I’m not to blame😇 (i wrote the smut before the plot so the opening is ass ngl)
Viewer discretion is advised. 18+
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You sat in the slightly uncomfortable metal chair of the tattoo shop, trying to entertain yourself on your phone. Nick was quiet as he focused on the leg of the client in front of him, not wanting to make any mistakes, so you made sure you did your best not to distract him. 
The boys had time this week to relax and do what they wanted, for once not having to be in the studio or travel for an interview, so you happily accepted their invitation to spend time with them since you haven’t had the chance to see them in a while. 
The group and you mainly hung out at their house, either watching movies, swimming, making a mess in the kitchen, or chatting about how life used to be before they got big. It was nice that they finally had time to just relax and have fun in the mix of their busy schedules. And you were definitely happy that you were finally able to see Nick again. You had a crush on him for as long as you could remember, instantly being attracted to his humor and his gorgeous looks, but pushed the feelings away once they started getting busier, knowing that there wasn’t even time for a relationship, even if he felt the same. But that didn’t stop the feelings from slowly resurfacing and becoming more than just a crush every time you had the opportunity to spend time with him.
Every time all of you hung out, your attention always seemed to fall on him more than the rest. Even when watching a movie, your eyes always trailed towards him. You never made it obvious, though. You did your best to treat them all the same, treating them like brothers. The last thing you needed was to make it awkward, or even worse, create so much tension you couldn’t see them anymore. But the tension that had been building inside of you was becoming torture.
Nick had known of this break for a while now. Itching to get back into tattooing, he asked a friend of his if he could use his studio for a day, then asked around if anyone was looking to get a piece done. He had two offers, and you happily told him that you were willing to get another. Not that you weren’t always down to get a new tattoo, but you mainly offered so you could spend more time with him. You loved spending time with the boys, and absolutely enjoyed hanging out with all of them, but when a rare chance came to get alone time with Nick, you just had to take it. 
You two had been here since early this morning. He told you that you didn’t have to come in until later in the day, but almost seemed sad to say, like he regretted spending most of his free day away from you. But with the offer of being the errand runner and grabbing us lunch, he happily obliged. Not that he needed any convincing, but he had to pretend like he felt bad making you spend half the day doing nothing but sitting in the shop with him. 
Your attention gets pulled from your phone as his client stood up and walked to the mirror to check out their new tattoo. Nick chatted with them for a few minutes, getting payment set up and wishing them a good day as they left, pleased with the new piece of art on their body. 
He walked over and sat down in the chair by you, stretching his back after being hunched over for an hour. 
“I love doing this, but god, does my body hate it,” he mumbled as he stretched his arms over his head. A small sliver of skin caught your eyes as his shirt raised with him, but you quickly blinked away any inappropriate thoughts and looked back up at him just in time for him to settle and glance at you. 
“So, you ready?” he asked, clapping his hands together with a smile on his face. You couldn’t help but match his smile. 
“Always,” you said as you stood up from your chair. 
He stood and walked over to where he had your piece already drawn out and prepared on a stencil. You two had been shooting ideas back and forth for the last few days, and eventually landed getting a skeleton hand. One of the few remaining spots you had open on your skin was on your rib, right below your breast, so you decided that getting the hand to fit the curvature of your body would look pretty cool.
He grabbed the stencil and walked over to you, so you lifted your shirt, holding it right below your bra. He eyed the space of blank skin, then held the stencil up to it. After a few moments of him lining it up perfectly, he finally placed it. You both walked over to the mirror so you could check the placement. After turning your body a few times, making sure you liked where it was, you told him it was perfect. 
You walked over to the bed and laid down, tucking your shirt under your slightly lifted bra, and angling your body in a way where the stencil could be easily worked on. He set up his table with everything he needed and then got himself sat and pulled up next to you, ready to start. 
“All good to go?” he asked, making sure you were officially ready to start, and you nodded. 
You did your best to relax, but tattoos in this area were hard not to focus on. So you mentally prepared yourself as he reached out and held your side and brought the needle to your skin. But the sensation of his touch completely overpowered the pain of the needle.
All you could focus on as he began working was the way his gloved hand held and pulled at your skin. You didn’t know if you were glad that you didn’t have to focus on the needles, or if this feeling was much worse. He was touching such a sensitive area, and you had to try your hardest not to blush or react in any way. 
His finger grazed against your skin, causing you to shiver. He stopped and looked up at you with a concerned look. 
“You okay?” he asked, assuming that was because he just went right over bone. Knowing you’d just stammer your words, you nodded.
But your eyes locked onto his as he looked up at you, and your mind went blank. The look of concern mixed with something you could distinguish in his pretty blue eyes fueled a fire inside you that you needed to extinguish as fast as possible. You blinked and turned your head away, trying to get that look out of your mind. He finally went back to working on your tattoo, and you forced yourself to focus on the pain, needing it as a distraction. 
After about an hour of grueling torture, him constantly being so sweet, and you forcing yourself to keep your mind off him and on the needles repeatedly hitting your skin, he finally finished. 
“Let me just wipe one more time and then you can go check it out,” he said as he scooted his chair back and grabbed the green soap. 
“Okay,” you said, sighing a breath of relief. It wasn’t over just yet, but you finally had a break from the torture. 
He came back over, gave you one last wipe, and then moved back, giving you room to stand so you could check it out. 
You walked over to the mirror and eyed your new piece, a smile forming on your face. It was really good. Not that you hadn’t expected it to be, but it was thankfully worth being so close to him for an hour straight. 
“I love it,” you said with a smile, turning to him. His eyes snapped up from your body and to your face, almost as if he had been caught staring, and he mirrored your smile. 
“I’m glad. Now let me wrap that and I can close up shop,” he said as he quickly turned to grab Saniderm. 
His mind raced as he went to wrap your new tattoo, needing to be quick so you could finally put your shirt down. The last hour had been absolute agony, being so close to such an intimate part of you. He had to use every fiber in his body to keep his focus on your tattoo and not let his eyes glance up at your slightly exposed under-boob. 
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You were sitting on Nick’s bed, back pressed against the wall, scrolling on your phone as he worked on his laptop, occasionally typing away as he answered his emails. He said he had to get a few done, and offered to let you hang out in his room with him until the rest of the guys got back from doing who knows what.
You did your best to entertain yourself as he worked, but you mind kept trailing back to how close you two were earlier. How you could almost feel his breath on your skin as he worked on your new tattoo. The way he kept glancing up at you, checking to make sure you felt okay. You couldn’t get that look out of your mind. His pretty eyes just looking up into yours, holding more emotion that he let on. You had been so worked up since the tattoo started, and it wasn’t going away. 
At this point, you had stopped scrolling and were just staring off into space as your mind wandered, imagining the emotions you could get his eyes to portray. Every thought that you had pushed away was now flooding your mind since he wasn’t focused on you, and being alone in his room with him did absolutely no help. 
You finally come back to reality, only to notice him glancing at you in your peripheral. You glance over, but once he realized he had been caught, he quickly focused back onto the screen in front of him, causing a smirk to form on your lips. Was he actually losing focus because of you?
“Getting distracted, Ruffilo?” you teased, causing him to tense slightly at being caught. Your mind was glazed over with how turned on you were, and you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. You just wanted to mess with him. 
He cleared his throat, not taking his eyes off the laptop, and did his best to act nonchalant as he responded, “Huh? Oh. No, just thinking.” 
“Good. You wouldn’t want to miss any important details,” you teased with a smirk still on your lips. He let out a small huff and playfully rolled his eyes as he looked at you. 
“I would never. I’m a professional,” he said, making you bite back a giggle. He was so cute when he tried to play things off.
“Oh, I know,” you responded with an amused smile. He raised an eyebrow at your smile. He did his best to keep a cool demeanor, but couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at your expression. 
“Then why are you teasing me?” he asked, pretending to be annoyed. You gave him a playful scoff. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, feigning offense, making him chuckle. He turned in his chair and looked at you, crossing his arms. 
“Oh sure you don’t. You’re just the picture of innocence,” he said sarcastically, causing you to giggle. 
“Yeah. That’s one way to put it,” you replied, a smirk tugging on your lips. He couldn’t help but smile at your giggle, it causing a strange warmth in his chest. But your smirk was causing a much more intense reaction in him that he had to hide.
“But you’re awfully sassy for someone who tries to be so innocent,’ he teased, his tone turning playful, with a hint of flirting. He was enjoying this playful banter between you two. 
“Sassy?” you said, trying to hide the amusement in your voice as you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah. You’ve got quite an attitude on you.” He teased, chuckling at your act. You crossed your arms and tried thinking of the best comeback, but none were coming to you. 
“Well you’re easily distracted.” you finally said, giving him a playful grin. He raised an eyebrow at your comment. He tried to play it off, but there was a pang of embarrassment in his chest.
“Easily distracted? Me? I’m never distracted.” he protested, trying to sound confident.
“Oh yeah? Then how far along are you on those emails?” you teasingly asked, pointing to the laptop sitting on his desk. His eyes glanced over to the laptop, one that showed a half written email, and mentally cursed at himself. He had gotten distracted thinking of you, and then let you distract him even more with the playful bickering.
“I’m…uh…almost done,” he lied, trying to salvage what dignity he had left.
“Oh yeah?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips. He tried to keep a cool demeanor, but he was getting more flustered as you teased him.
“Yes. I’m serious. I’m almost done,” he repeated, trying to sound more confident this time as he turned back to his laptop. 
“Good, because I’d feel bad if I was the reason you couldn’t get any work done,’ you said, amused. He could feel his face getting more flushed. He tried to come up with a witty comeback, but all he got out was a flustered stammer. 
“Y-you’re not the reason..I just..got distracted, that’s all,” he managed to get out, making you smirk as he finally admitted to being distracted.
“Then what’s got you so distracted?” you playfully asked, causing him to tense up. He didn’t want to admit it, so he tried coming up with the most convincing answer. 
“I don't know..I guess I’m just tired from having to focus on tattooing all day.” he lied, now pretending to be more focused on this half written email on his screen. 
You nodded with a grin on your face, not actually believing him, just having a lot of fun messing with him. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he was just thankful you stopped pushing the issue. He let out a sigh as he started typing again, doing his best to focus on the words, but he couldn’t stop letting his mind travel to you. His eyes involuntarily trailed back to you, causing you to smirk. 
“Do I need to leave?” you teasingly asked, calling attention back to how easily distracted he was. His eyes widened slightly as he realized he had once again been caught staring, so he turned back to the screen, hiding his blushing face. 
“N-no, you’re fine. I’m just..lost in thought,” he said, trying to play off that he was just straight ogling you. You giggled and crawled across the bed, moving closer to him. 
“Whatcha thinkin about?” you asked, in a slightly annoying childish voice, wanting to tease him more. He swallowed hard as he heard you move closer to him. He tried his best to keep his composure.
“N-nothing important,” he lied. His eyes flickered over to you against his will, gauging how close you now were. 
“Well, it’s obviously important enough that it keeps distracting you,” you said, feigning a sweet tone. He let out a soft huff, getting frustrated at how easily you were getting to him. He shifted in his chair, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this situation. 
“It’s not important enough to share, trust me,” he said, his voice slightly strained. He tried keeping his gaze back on his screen as he felt the tension in the room grow thicker by the second, but his eyes trailed to you once more, curious as to why you were so quiet. Once his eyes landed on you, he saw that you were giving him a childish pout. He sighed, knowing that you always did that when you didn’t get your way, but he had to resist telling you the truth. 
“Don’t give me that look,” he said, trying to sound stern, but you giggled when you noticed the amusement in his voice. He let out a defeated sigh and leaned back in his chair as his resolve crumbled away at the sound of your laugh. 
“Fine. You wanna know what I was thinking about? It was you. I was thinking about you, alright?” He said, slightly embarrassed but also annoyed that you actually managed to pull it out of him. 
You raised your eyebrows in shock, not expecting him to be so blunt and say it already. It wasn’t like you didn’t already know, but you were surprised he just came out and told you straight. 
“Oh, you were thinking about me?” you asked, once again bringing back your playful tone. His cheeks flushed more as he realized how bad of an idea it was to admit it. He didn’t want to, but you broke him down so easily. 
“Yes, I was thinking about you,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. He kept his gaze on you, gaging your reaction, “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”
“And what about me were you thinking about?” you asked playfully with a smug smile. This caused him to groan. You had been playing at his frustration and desire all day, and now that he was forced to think about you, he was struggling to keep those thoughts under control. 
“Everything about you. Your smile, your voice, your eyes…everything,” he said, his voice growing huskier. He shifted in his chair again, trying to alleviate the tension in his body. Your eyebrows raised slightly as an amused smile played on your lips. 
“Everything?” you asked, your tone teasing, yet slightly seductive, causing his eyes to darken. He could feel the tension in the room reach its boiling point, and he had to refrain from losing control.
“Yes. Everything,” he repeated, his voice getting closer to a growl as you kept pushing his buttons. He gave himself permission to rake his eyes over your body now that he knew he had nothing to hide, “I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how hard I try.”
“Did this start before or after the tattoo?” you ask, seemingly unaffected by his tone or actions. 
“Before. Long before,” he answered, his voice dripping with desire as he watched you with hungry eyes. He had developed an attraction to you a while ago, but being so close to you as he tattooed you just made it worse. 
“And how did you feel when I told you where the tattoo was gonna be?” you asked. You were enjoying this way too much. Just watching him lose it right in front of you. 
“I was…conflicted. On one hand, I was excited to finally get so close to you, but on the other, I knew it was going to be absolute torture.” he answered. You feigned offense at his playful choice of words. 
“Torture? You saw being so close to me as torture?” you teasingly asked. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes and he knew that you were enjoying this a little too much. 
“Don’t give me that look. You know exactly what I mean,” he said, his tone getting more seductive, “Being so close to you, yet not being able to give in and.. touch you…it drove me insane.” 
“Well looks like you’re gonna have to stay insane,” you teased, shrugging. He was just giving you more and more opportunities to mess with him, so now you were going to keep riling him up and just not give him what he wanted. His eyes darkened more at your words, his smirk fading into more of a frustrated expression. 
“Don’t tease me like that…You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to touch you,” he said, his voice dropping to a low husky whisper as he leaned forward. You just gave him a smug smile as you relaxed back, supporting yourself on your hands as you met his gaze with a mischievous look. 
“And that’s why I’m not gonna let you,” you said bluntly. His eyes widened at your serious tone, his face turning into a mixture of desire and determination.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, tempting me like that just to deny me. It’s cruel.” You just shrugged, amused with how easy it was to egg him on. 
“You can’t do anything about it. I won’t let you, so you’re just gonna have to suffer from a distance,” you said nonchalantly with a smirk playing on your lips. He took a deep breath and glared at you. 
“You make it so hard for me to be a gentleman,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, his eyes raking over your body hungrily, “You’re so damn tempting, sitting there all smug and teasing me like that,” 
You let your eyes slowly trail over this figure, seeing how tense and worked up he was, before landing back on his eyes with a mischievous smirk on your lips. He’s making it so easy to get him riled up, and it just makes you more excited to finally break him. You knew this was all an act. He wanted you to think that you had no control over him, but in reality, he was wrapped around your finger. 
“Hey, I said you couldn’t touch me. But if you’re nice, maybe I’ll touch you,” you said in a stern yet seductive voice, getting quieter towards the end. His breath hitched as you spoke and his body tensed at the thought of you touching him. He looked at you with a mix of desire and desperation in his eyes, slowly breaking. 
“You’re killing me here. How can you say something like that and expect me to behave myself?” he said, his voice straining as he struggled to maintain his composure. You so badly wanted to make a face, finally cracking down on his faux dominance, but you knew exactly what you could do to get him to finally break. You gave him a teasing pitiful pout.
“Because you wanna be a good boy for me, don’t you?” you asked in a soft teasing yet seductive tone. His eyes widened as the words left your mouth. He swallowed hard, doing his best to keep his composure, but his mind and body had already given in. It took a few moments for him to respond, but he gave in.
“Y-yes…I wanna be a good boy for you..” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. A proud smile formed on your lips, happy that you finally got to him. 
You scooted back on the bed, creating a space for him, before patting the spot next to you. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between your face and the spot on the bed. He was torn between his desire to give in to your every whim, and his pride, but ultimately, the desire won and he slowly stood up and walked to the bed. 
He sat stiffly, trying to maintain some semblance of control over himself, but his body was tense with anticipation. He looked at you with a mixture of nervousness and excitement in his eyes, waiting for your next move. Taking that as a sign to continue, you softly pushed against his shoulders until he was now lying down in front of you. He didn’t resist, but just tensed at your touch. He watched you intensely, his heart racing in his chest as he waited to see what you would do next. He felt vulnerable in this position, completely at someone’s mercy for the first time, but there was a sense of trust and excitement in his eyes. 
Enjoying the adorable man completely giving himself to you, you gave him a warm smile as you softly started tracing your fingers against his stomach, trailing them over his hips and down his legs, giving him a glimpse of the new dynamic. His breath hitched at your touch, his skin felt extra sensitive as he was not used to being so vulnerable, but also loving it.
“Now remember, no touching,” you said softly yet sternly as you looked into his eyes.  
“I..I won’t touch you…I promise,” he said, his trembling voice barely above a whisper. His body felt like it was shaking with desire, but he was determined to be good for you. 
You gave him a soft smile and a quiet, ‘Good boy,’ as you continued teasing your fingers across his body. He just watched and took in the feeling as you started trailing your fingers down to the hem of his shirt. You hooked your fingers under and pulled up until there was just a delicious thin strip of bare skin between his waistband and shirt, and softly traced your fingers over it, watching his reaction as you teased him. 
Nick’s eyes fluttered shut and a soft gasp caught in his throat as he felt your fingers brush against his bare skin. He could feel his body responding to your touch, his skin tingling with every gentle graze of your fingers. He was completely under our spell and he knew it. He let out a shaky breath and opened his eyes to look up at you, his gaze filled with desire and submission. 
You bit back a smirk as you caught his gaze. You knew that he was falling deeper and deeper under your control and you loved it. You looked back down to where your fingers traced against his skin and slowly moved them up, bringing the shirt with them. He watched as you slowly lifted his shirt, exposing more and more of his skin to your touch. He could feel the heat rising in his body, and his breathing grew heavier with each passing second. 
You were going to tease him for as long as he let you, so once the shirt lifted to right above his navel, you leaned down and started softly littering kisses on his bare skin. His breath hitched as he felt your lips touch his skin. The sensation flooding his mind, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His eyes closed as his body overreacted to your touch. 
“That feels so good…” he managed to whisper out, his voice thick with desire. He wanted to touch you so badly, to get you to speed up, but he knew he had to resist. He was determined to let you take the lead, even if it killed him. 
You looked up at him with a playful gaze as you started trailing kisses higher and higher, lifting the shirt with you. You just wanted to see how long it was going to take him to start begging for more. As he felt your lips trail up and his shirt rise, he opened his eyes and looked down, meeting yours. He had a look of desperation and admiration, and you could tell this was slowly driving him insane. 
“Please…don’t stop,” he begged, his voice ragged. He was struggling to keep his composure as his body tensed and trembled with desire. He was completely under your spell, willing to do anything to keep feeling your touch. 
Once his stomach and chest were on full display, you continued to litter his skin with soft kisses, occasionally licking and nipping at sensitive spots. This caused him to lose himself in a haze of pleasure, his body responding to your every touch. He let out a string of low moans and soft gasps and his back arched, pressing himself against your lips more.
“F-fuck…you’re driving me crazy,” he managed to gasp out, his voice laced with need and desire. 
You were enjoying the sight of him falling apart under your touch, so you slowly started upping your game. Trailing kisses back down his chest and stomach, you slid your hand onto his thigh, softly rubbing it, moving your hand up and down, and occasionally rubbing his inner thigh. He let out a soft gasp as his body started responding to your touch, his muscles tensing and his breath picking up. Enjoying his reactions, you started moving your hand higher, getting a little too close to his growing bulge. He let out a strangled moan as his hips involuntarily bucked slightly in response. 
“Please…please don’t tease me like that,” he pleaded, his voice almost a whine and filled with desperation. He was growing more and more frustrated and desperate with each passing moment, his body aching for your touch. 
“Be a good boy for me, baby,” you said softly, with a slightly demanding tone. As much as you enjoyed his begging, you’d never give in. You were going to make a mess of him. 
Nick shuttered at your words, his body responding instinctively to your command. He wanted to be good for you, to obey your every whim. He clenched his fists tightly, trying to regain control over himself. 
“I-I’m trying…I’m trying to be good,” he gasped out, his voice strained. He could feel the tension building inside of him, the need for more growing stronger by the second. 
Humming appreciatively, your kisses started getting lower, now running along his waistband, and your hand moved higher, now brushing against his bulge. He let out a shaky airy moan, jolts of pleasure shooting through his body every time he felt you moved your hand. 
“Oh god… you’re killing me,” he whimpered. His body trembled in anticipation, him wanting nothing more than for you to touch him, to give him the release he so desperately needed. 
A small giggle erupted from your throat, the vibrations traveling to his sensitive skin. You lifted your head and just watched him as you started softly palming him through his jeans. A strangled moan left his lips as he felt the heat and pressure of your hand against him. Every time you rubbed your hand against him, he let out a small gasp, his body tensing in response.
“Please, baby…more…I need it so badly,” he begged, a desperate, pathetic whimper. 
“Beg all you want, my love, you’re gonna get what I give you,” you said with a slightly stern tone. He whimpered again at your tone, his body submitting to your will. He knew there was no use in begging, but he couldn’t help himself. The need for your touch was overwhelming, and he would do anything to feel your hands on him. 
“I’ll be good…I’ll do whatever you want,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to take pity on him. 
His eyes just made you want to tease him more. This was becoming too fun for you. To have so much control over him that he could look up at you with those pretty eyes, begging you to help him. It was like a drug, and you just wanted more. 
Keeping your eyes on his, you leaned back down and pressed your lips on the waistband of his pants, and slowly kissed closer and closer to his aching bulge. He watched with a bated breath as your lips moved closer. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body tense with anticipation. He desperately wanted you to touch him, to give him the release he craved so badly. He let out a shaky moan once you were so close yet so far from where he needed you the most. 
You gave him one final look, before placing a sloppy open mouth kiss against the height of his bulge. He let out a loud moan the second your lips finally made contact with it. The feeling of your warm mouth through the fabric was almost too much to bear, and he couldn’t stop himself as he bucked his hips up against you. 
“Oh god..yes…please..” he gasped out, his voice laced with need and desperation. He was completely at your mercy now, unable to control the way his body responded to you. 
Pleased with his reaction, you decided to step it up a notch and softly sink your teeth into it. Not enough to hurt him, but just enough for him to really feel you through the fabric. He let out a strangled cry. The sensation was both shocking and pleasurable, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. His body shuttered as his hips bucked, desperately trying to get more friction.
“F-fuck…do that again…please..” he gasped. He was completely lost in the moment, completely lost in your touch. 
Even though you said you wouldn’t give in to his commands, you enjoyed the reaction too much. You softly pressed your teeth into him again, this time running your tongue along the fabric between them. He let out a loud moan as you did it again, the sensation of your tongue sending shivers down his spine. He was practically writhing beneath you now, his body wracked with pleasure. 
“God…I can’t take it anymore…please..let me cum..I need to come so badly,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse and desperate. The feeling was too much and he was ready to explode at any moment. You lifted your head and looked at him, giving him a pathetic pitiful look.
“I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already about to cum?” you asked condescendingly. He let out a strangled whimper at your words, his face flushing with embarrassment. He knew it was pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. He was so pent up, so desperate for release.
“I-I know…I’m sorry..I just can’t help it,” He said, his voice trembling. He looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for mercy, “Please…just touch me…I need to feel your hands on me..”
You raised an eyebrow as you brought your hand back to his bulge, softly palming him again, giving him a small sliver of what he was begging for.
“And why should I do that?” you asked. He let out a shaky breath as he felt your hand on him again. His hips arched up against your hand, desperate for more friction. 
“Because…because I’ve been good for you. I’ve been doing everything you asked..please..just give me a reward..” He begged. He was practically panting now, his body trembling with desire. 
“Oh, you want a reward? After all the begging and commands for more, you think you deserve a reward” you asked, your tone condescending yet teasing. You hooked your leg over his and moved to straddle his thighs as a way to get more of an advantage on him. You began palming him again, this time much lighter so he couldn’t get as much pleasure from it, causing a whine of frustration to leave his lips. It was torture, and he could feel himself getting even more worked up. 
“Please..I’ve been a good boy. I’ve done everything you asked…I need this so badly,” he begged, his voice shaking with need as he looked up at you with pleading eyes. Smirking at his desperation, you moved your hand up to the waistband of his jeans, popping the button then unzipping them. You looked back up at him as your fingers started toying with the waistband of his boxers. 
“I don’t know. You’ve been pretty naughty, always bucking your hips even when I told you that you had to be good and not try to touch me,” you teased. He could feel his heart racing as you played with the waistband of his boxers and your words sending a shiver down his spine. 
“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help it. You just feel so good,” he gasped out, his voice barely above a whisper. He was desperate, willing to get on his hands and knees if it meant you’d give him the release he so desperately craved. You finally hooked your fingers under his waistband. 
“You gonna be a good boy and let me touch you?” you asked, your voice raspy with seduction. His eyes locked onto yours as he swallowed hard. 
“Yes..I’ll be good..Just please..please touch me..” he pleaded, his voice shaking with desire. He would do anything to feel your hands on him. Absolutely anything. You start to pull his pants and boxers down, but stop, right before his tip could peek out. It couldn’t hurt to keep teasing him, right?
“You know, I don’t know if I believe you. Maybe you should beg some more,” you said, looking back into his eyes with a mischievous look. He looked at you with pleading eyes, his desperation evident. He could feel the cold air on the sensitive skin of his tip, and it was driving him crazy. 
“Please…I’ll do anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to. Just please touch me. I need it so badly. I need to feel your hands on me. I’ll be good. I promise.” A smile formed on your lips on your lip at his begging.
As much as you’d love to see him on his knees, begging to be touched, you figured you could just give it to him. You pulled down his pants and boxers more, just enough for his cock to spring out. The tip was red, hot, and desperate for attention. He let out a sigh of relief as you freed his aching cock. He looked up at you with a mix of desperation and gratitude.
“..Thank you…” he whispered out, his voice trembling. He could feel the cold air on his exposed cock, and it was driving him wild. He wanted you to touch him so badly, to relieve the intense pressure that had been building inside him.
He let out a low moan as you ran your fingers against his sensitive skin, his body tensing at the touch. He closed his eyes, his breathing ragged and uneven. As you wrap your hand around him and brush your hand over the tip, he let out a gasp, his hips bucking up involuntarily. 
“Oh god…that feels so good..” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. 
A string of curses escapes his lips as you start loosely pumping his cock, the feeling of your hand dragging against his skin sending waves of pleasure through his body. He tried to keep his hips still, but they kept bucking into your touch, seeking more friction. 
“Please…more…I need more,” he gasped out, voice hoarse with need. You stopped your movements and looked up at him.
“Stop moving and begging or else I’ll stop,” you said, your voice stern and condescending. He whimpered at your command, his body going rigid as he forced himself to stop moving. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, his expression pleading. 
“I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t move or beg…just please…don’t stop,” he pleaded with a trembling voice. He desperately wanted to obey your orders, wanting to prove that he could be good for you. That he deserved this.
Humming contently at his words, you shift your position, now moving your hips closer to his until the base of his cock was pressed right against your covered core. He let out a strangled moan as you moved. He could feel the heat radiating off of you, and it was driving him crazy. He wanted to thrust his hips up against you, but he forced himself to stay still, remembering your command. 
“Please…can I touch you? Just a little bit?” he begged.
“Good boy for asking, but no,” you said with a teasing smile. He let out a frustrated groan as you denied his request, but quickly forgot about it as you started rocking your hips against his cock, rubbing yourself against him. The feeling of your heat against him was almost too much to handle, and he had to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you closer. 
“God…you’re so cruel..” he gasped out. You giggled as you stopped your movements. 
“Cruel? My love, you better watch your mouth,” you said with a mischievous grin. He swallowed hard as he realized what he had done. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn’t help it. He was so desperate for you, so needy. 
“I’m sorry..I didn’t mean it. You’re not cruel, you’re just…driving me crazy,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He stared at you with his signature pleading eyes, begging for you to continue. 
You softly giggled at his apology. He just gave you a perfect opening to mess with him just a little bit more. He watched as you slid off his lap and stood beside the bed, a whimper escaping his lips, worried he actually ruined his chance at release. He looked at you with a look of curiosity and frustration, wondering what you were planning next. With your eyes still on his, you slowly moved your hands to your pants and undid them, before slowly pulling them down and stepping out of them. His eyes widened as you were now left in only underwear. 
With a smirk, you crawled back into the position you were in before, straddling his hips. He felt his cock twitch as he watched you and felt your bare legs now pressed against his hips. 
“Fuck…you’re killing me,” he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. 
He let out a low moan as you grabbed his cock and positioned it against your wet panty-covered core. The feeling of your wetness against him was too much to bear, and he involuntarily bucked his hips again. 
“Please..I need to feel you..no more teasing.” He pleaded, his voice thick with desperation and need. 
“I was gonna let you touch me, but since you keep making commands and bucking into me, I guess I won’t,” you said looking down at him sternly. His eyes widened as you spoke, making him curse under his breath, regretting his actions. 
“No, no, no..I’m sorry..please. I won’t do it again, I promise. I’ll be good. Just please..please please let me touch you,” he begged, his hands still gripping the sheets tightly. He was desperate to feel your skin against his, to feel the warmth and softness of your body. You hummed as you debated his words. 
“Thighs only,” you said as you watched the way he gripped the sheets below him. He let out a sigh of relief as you agreed to let him touch your thighs, albeit just your thighs. He let go of the sheets and reached up to grip your thighs, his hands finally being able to slide up and down your soft skin. 
“Thank you…thank you so much..” he whispered, his fingers softly digging into your flesh. He massaged and gripped at your thighs gently, trying to show you how grateful he was for even this small amount of contact. 
You hummed at the feeling of his large hands on your thighs. Slowly and softly, you began rocking your hips as you watched him. Nick let out a shaky breath at the feeling of your core rubbing against him, driving him insane. He gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he fought the urge to thrust up against you.
“God…you feel so good. I wish I could feel you without these damn panties in the way,” he groaned through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. Pleased with his reaction, and secretly agreeing with him, you slipped your hand down and slid your panties to the side. 
“Your wish is my command, my love,” you said as you pressed your now bare pussy against him. A loud moan left his lips as he watched. The feeling of your bare skin against his was almost too much to handle, and he couldn’t hold back much longer. 
“Oh..f-fuck..that’s so much better,” he gasped out, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, pulling you closer.
“Hey. Thighs only, remember?” you said sternly. You enjoy the way he pulled you, but you couldn’t have him thinking he can just get away with doing what he wants. He quickly let go of your hips, grumbling in frustration, but obeyed your command and brought his hands back to your thighs.
“Sorry..you just feel so good..I couldn’t help myself..I want to feel all of you..” he whimpered. 
“Be a good boy, and you will,” you said as you started moving your hips again. He fit so perfectly between your folds and rested perfectly against your clit, rubbing it every time you moved. 
He watched as you moved, his eyes fixed on the spot where you were connected. The feeling of your slick folds against his sensitive skin was almost too much, and he could feel himself getting closer to the edge. 
“I’ll be good..I promise. I’ll be the best boy for you, just please..don’t stop,” he gasped out. He gripped your thighs tightly, trying to control himself and not buck his hips again. 
You held him closer to your core, applying more pressure. You hummed a moan, loving the feeling of him rubbing against your clit. He groaned as he felt his cock throbbing against you. He could feel your arousal dripping down his shaft, and it was driving him wild. He wanted nothing more than to grab your hips and thrust up into you, but he knew he had to be patient and wait for your permission. 
The pleasure of his cock dragging against you was so nice, and you needed more. You let go of him and moved up his hips more, your core now right above him, and started grinding into him. Soft moans escaped your lips as you felt him rubbing through your folds and against your clit so perfectly. His eyes widened, and he let out a guttural moan, the feeling of your slickness against him becoming too much to bear. He could feel your arousal coating his cock, and he desperately wanted to be inside you. 
“Fuck…you’re so wet…so hot..” he gasped out, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter. 
The feeling of his hands gripping you in pleasure and need just added to the feeling, causing you to speed up your movements and applying more pressure, needing to feel him against you more. His hands gripped your thighs tight enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if they left a bruise, the pressure and friction against his cock becoming almost unbearable. He could feel his release building up inside him, but he fought it, not wanting this moment to end. 
“Please..I need more, I need to be inside you, I need to feel you clenching around me,” he pleaded, his foggy mind causing him to whine. You couldn’t agree more. He let out a gasp as you grabbed his cock and positioned it at your entrance, the feeling of the tip pressing against your slick heat sending shivers down his spine. He looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to continue. 
“Please…please let me inside. I’ll do anything,” he pathetically whimpered. 
You slowly lowered yourself onto him, causing him to let out a frustrated groan as you teased him. He could feel his cock twitching as you slowly took him, desperate for more.
“You’re torturing me..please..I need to feel all of you,” he begged, his hands returning to your hips and desperately grabbing at them. You wanted to scold him again, but felt as if you teased him enough, so you let it slide as you finally sank down on him. 
Nick let out a loud moan as your hips met, the feeling of your tight walls enveloping him was overwhelming. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to hold back from thrusting up into you.
“Oh..god..you feel so good,” he gasped out, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. 
You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your core, causing his eyes to shoot back to you as you pressed his fingers against your clit. Quickly understanding, he began rubbing circled against your sensitive nub as you began moving up and down. 
“Oh yes..just like that,” he groaned, his other hand gripping your hip tightly as he tried to hold on for as long as possible. 
A low moan left your lips. The feeling of him filling you up so perfectly, mixed with him rubbing your clit was mind-numbing. You involuntarily clenched around him in pleasure, causing a strangled moan to leave his lips. The feeling of your walls tightening around him almost sending him over the edge. He continued rubbing you, but his movements became more erratic as he fought to hold back his own release. 
“You’re so tight… squeezing me so good..” he gasped out, his eyes locked on where his cock was disappearing inside you. 
You couldn’t fight back the sounds that wanted to escape your lips. He just felt so good and you could feel yourself getting closer. You just needed a little more. 
“Nick?” you whimpered out, causing his eyes to shoot up and meet yours with a dark look of desire. 
“Yes, my love?” he asked, his voice hoarse with need. He continued rubbing you, his fingers moving faster and harder against you, hoping to bring you closer to your release. You had to fight back gasps as you said the words you knew he wanted to hear. 
“Fuck me,” you sternly pleaded, needing him to take over. His eyes widened at your plea, his heart racing in his chest. He had been holding back for so long, so he couldn’t resist any longer.
“With pleasure,” he growled as his hand moved back to your hip, his grip tightening as he began to thrust up into you, meeting your movements with powerful strokes. 
Instantly, loud moans left your lips as you brought your hands up to his chest, leaning on him for support as you gave him full control. He groaned as you gave him a better angle to thrust into you. He could feel your body trembling, and he knew you were getting close. 
“That’s it, baby…Let go. I’ve got you,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming faster and harder as he pounded into you relentlessly, finally not having to hold back anymore. 
Your eyes squeezed shut and your eyebrows furrowed as pleasure coursed through your body with each thrust. Your release was approaching faster and faster. He could feel you clenching around him, and he knew you were getting close. 
“You’re so close, I can feel it. Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” he growled, his own release rapidly approaching. 
With a few more thrusts, you came undone. A loud moan fell from your lips as your head dropped and pleasure took over your body. Nick watched as your body shook in pleasure and he let out a loud groan as he felt your walls spasming around him, the sensation officially pushing him over the edge. 
“F-fuck,” he grunted, his hips stuttering as he thrust up into you a few more times before spilling himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside you. 
Another loud moan left your lips as you felt his hot cum spill into you. You involuntarily clenched around him more, milking every last drop before collapsing onto his chest. 
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel your heart beating wildly against his own, and he couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of being so close to you. 
“Fuck…that was amazing,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse from exertion. He ran his fingers through your hair and gently stroked your back as he basked in the afterglow of your orgasms.
Once you both finally calmed down, your heartbeats gradually slowing down as you came down from your high, he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, feeling a wave of affection wash over him. 
“You’re amazing, my love,” he murmured against your hair, his fingers still gently running through it. You hummed at his praise and affection, bathing in the dopamine. He chuckled softly at your response, his hands now tracing soothing circles on your back. 
“You’re so quiet now. I think I wore you out,” he teased. A smirk formed on your lips. There was no way you were going to let him bask in that small moment of dominance. You looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek, ready to pull out your winning move. 
“Yeah, you were such a good boy, Nick,” you said softly, giving him a proud look. His eyes widened and he felt a slight shiver run down his spine, loving the praise. 
“You think I’m a good boy?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice as he leaned into your touch. You softly brushed your thumb against his cheek. 
“Such a good boy. Listening to me and making me feel so good,” you said with a teasing seductive tone, softly clenching around him still inside you to really prove your point. He let out a low moan, his cock still sensitive from his orgasm. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of pleasure at your words and actions. 
“Oh god..don’t..don’t do that. You’re gonna get me worked up again,” he groaned, his grip on you tightening slightly as he tried to control himself. You giggled mischievously at his reaction. 
“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” you asked playfully. Nick shook his head, a mixture of amusement and frustration on his face. 
“No, we wouldn’t. But you’re making it so hard to behave right now,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. He shifted slightly underneath you, trying to adjust himself so he wasn’t so sensitive, but it was difficult with you still wrapped around him. You hummed, amused. He was just making this too easy. 
“You’re a good boy, Nick, I know you’ll behave,” you said softly as you ‘absentmindedly’ shifted into a ‘more comfortable position’, so your hips were slightly raised, him still halfway inside you.
Nick let out a soft groan, his cock twitching as you shifted. He could feel your breath on his chest, and the feeling of your body pressed against him was driving him crazy. He tried to calm himself down, taking deep breaths and focusing on your words. 
“I’m trying..but it’s not easy when you’re being so tempting,” he muttered, his hands moving to your hips, gently rubbing circles against your skin. 
You giggled softly. This wasn’t anywhere near over for him. He was smug now, but you were going to break him until he cried. With your head still lying on his chest and a sweet smile on your lips, you very slowly started moving your hips. Pressing them down torturously slow so he sank back into you, then lifting them so he dragged back out of you. He let out a strangled moan, the slow and deliberate movements driving him crazy. He gripped you hips tightly, trying to control himself as you teased him. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he groaned out, his eyes closed as he tried to focus on anything but the feeling of your body against his. 
“Just be a good boy and ignore me,” you said sweetly as you continued your movements, loving the feeling of him slowly dragging in and out of you. 
He let out a low growl, his fingers digging into your hips as he fought to follow your instructions. He desperately wanted to thrust up into you, to take control and make you his, but he knew that you were testing him. And he couldn’t let himself disobey your orders. 
“It’s not that easy,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on the way your ass moved up and down on him. 
“Just think of anything but the feeling of your cock slowly pumping in and out of me,” you teased, your tone full of faux innocence. His eyes darkened at your words and he let out a frustrated huff. 
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing me like this?” he asked, his voice laced with both desire and annoyance. He tried to think of anything else, but everytime he closed his eyes, all he could see was the image of you riding him. 
“Torturing you would be forcing you to stop touching me again,” you teased, a mischievous smile forming on your face. His grip on your hips tightened as his eyes snapped open and looked at you. 
“Don’t you dare,” he said, his voice low and serious. You were right, but he was already struggling to control himself as is. 
Hearing his challenge, you lifted yourself so now you were holding yourself up on your hands and knees, able to easily rock back and forth to continue teasing him. His breath hitched in his throat, this angle making it even more difficult to resist the urge to thrust up into you. You looked straight into his eyes with a mischievous look. 
“Don’t challenge me, love. I absolutely will if I have to,” you said, your tone condescending yet seductive. 
“You’re such a brat, you know that?” he growled, his voice low and husky. Despite his frustration, he couldn’t help but find your confidence and control arousing. You brought your hand to his jaw and held it, forcing him to look at you. 
“Now now. Don’t be mean. I could make this absolute torture for you,” you said sternly with a smirk. His eyes narrowed as his gaze was locked on yours. He knew you had the upper hand in this situation, but he couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement at your dominance, wanting to test it. 
“And what exactly would you do to me, hm?” he asked, his voice dripping with defiance. You raised an eyebrow at his tone. 
“You really wanna know?” you asked, your tone both teasing yet threatening. His expression darkened, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. 
“Yes, I do. I want to know what you’d do to punish me for being mean,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He couldn’t resist the temptation to push your buttons, even if it meant getting himself in trouble. 
You let out a huff at his bratty attitude. Within a blink of an eye, you grabbed his wrists and held them above his head as you fully sunk down on him, using your body weight as leverage to keep him pinned. He gasped as you moved. He struggled against your grip, but found that he couldn’t break free. And the feeling of being completely inside of you again caused a moan to rumble deep in his chest. 
“Oh god..you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of desire and frustration. You leaned down so your lips were close to his ear. 
“You tested me. You wanted to be a naughty boy, so now you’re stuck like this,” you whispered harshly into his ear, causing him to shuttered and tense beneath you. He couldn’t tell if he hated being restrained like this, or if it turned him on even more. 
“I-I didn’t mean to be naughty. I can’t help myself when you’re being such a brat,” he protested weakly, his hips twitching as he tried to move against you. 
He was really pushing his luck now. You tightly clenched around him in punishment as he called you a brat again. He let out a low groan, the feeling of your tight walls gripping him making it difficult for him to think straight. He finally gave in.
“Watch it.” you said sternly. 
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to call you a brat. You’re just so damn irresistible when you’re in control like this,” he whimpered out, a hint of frustration in his tone. 
“I’m glad you enjoy it, because now you’re stuck like this. I’m not moving,” you said harshly. He let out a frustrated whine at your words. 
“You can’t leave me like this. I need more. I need to feel you moving on me,” he pleaded, his hips shifting beneath you in a futile attempt to get some friction. You just pressed your hips into his more as your grip on his wrists tightened.
“I can do as I please. And it’s not so bad right? Feeling my tight pussy around you as you’re restrained to the bed. You get to think about the way you came in me. The way you thrusted in me and how I moaned in pleasure. The way my body shook as I came around your cock,” you whispered in his ear, your voice both seductive and menacing.
He let out a low whine as you effectively immobilized him. Your words sent shivers down his spine and he could feel his cock twitch inside you as he thought about everything you said. 
“You’re evil,” he whined, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he struggled against your grip on his wrists. 
“That’s what you get when you’re a naughty boy. You’re lucky you even get to feel me. I could tie you to this bed as I play with my pussy in front of you and never let you touch me,” you whispered menacingly into his ear. His eyes widened at your threat, and he felt a pang of desperation in his chest. 
“No, no, please don’t do that. I’ll be good, I probably. I’ll be your good boy,” he said quickly, his voice a pleading whine. The thought of being denied any further contact with you was too much to bear. 
“Oh? So you wanna be a good boy again?” you ask condescendingly. He nodded vigorously, his expression full of submission. 
“Yes, yes, I do. I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be your good boy, your obedient slave. Just please, please let me touch you. Let me feel you,” he begged, his voice trembling with desperation. A small amused huff left your lips. 
“Sorry, my love. You haven’t proved yourself just yet. But I’ll give you a chance. No touching. No moving. Got it?” you asked him sternly. He let out a frustrated growl, but nodded in defeat. 
“I got it. No touching and no moving. I’ll stay still like a good boy,” he said, his voice tinged with resignation. He was desperate for your touch, but he knew he had to obey your rules if he wanted any chance of being rewarded. 
You let out a hum of appreciation as you began moving your hips again. He let out a sigh of relief, his eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to move. Instead, he focused on your words and kept his hands firmly pinned above his head, even though every fiber in his being was screaming for him to try and touch you.
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You two finished cleaning yourselves up and getting dressed again. You were cuddling on his bed, whispering sweet things to him, praising him and complimenting him. Telling him how good he was and how pretty his eyes looked when he looked up at you like that. He just softly hummed at your praise, staring up at you in adoration as you spoke. 
That’s when you heard the door downstairs close and a stampede of feet come into the house, causing you two to scramble up and out of his bed. You both took one last look at yourselves, making sure the previous event wasn’t painstakingly obvious, before opening his bedroom door and going back to the places you were before. Him on his laptop and you nonchalantly scrolling on his bed. 
You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and turned to the door to see a smiling Noah appear. 
“Show me the new tat,” he said excitedly, causing you to laugh.
You sat up and lifted your shirt, holding it right below your bra. He got closer and looked at it smiling. 
“That’s sick! It really fits you. Nick did a good job,” he said as he examined it. You smiled and turned to Nick, who was watching you two. 
“Yeah. He did really good,” you said, secretly winking at Nick since Noah’s eyes were focused on your new piece. 
Nick blushed and turned back to his laptop as Noah stood back up and looked at you. But then his eyes caught something. 
“And what’s that?” he said, a smirk forming on his face as he pointed to your neck. The fresh love bite, still forming on your skin.
110 notes · View notes
thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year ago
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hi ur writing is so so good, makes me go insane ur amazing
okay so could you do a normally dom!joel but one day he has the day off and reader doesn’t, so all he does ALL day is think about her. When she gets home he’s worked himself into a frenzy, desperate asf. So instead of his usual dominant self he’s desperate!joel whining and whimpering for her to touch him, make him cum, moaning in her ear and grinding against her.. all of that fun stuff 🤭
thank u for ur time, pls excuse the depravity 🙏🏾
hi nonie! loooved this request so much. i got a similar one from @luvrxbunny, so i combined them a bit and made it a lil longer. hope you both enjoy!
omg ur so amazing ily pls pls pls pls pls pls pls can i have dom!joel with a praise kink 🙏🏾 he doesn’t even really realize it but reader does and she’s just pummels him with praise while he’s fucking her and he does feral, moaning and grunting in her ear i’m sorry im so feral
way too damn needy
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, language, smut, dom-turned-sub!joel, gentle-dom!reader, praise kink, masturbation, phone sex, blowjobs, face fucking, lil fluff
word count: 2.8k
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What a way to spend his only day off in weeks. The weather’s perfect for playing his guitar on the porch, and he thought he’d even squeeze in a swim before getting started on building that new bedside table for Sarah. He had plans. 
But instead, Joel’s stalking around his living room like a caged animal in an endless loop of waiting, waiting, waiting.
It’s like he’s been transported back to his teenage years when every guy in a relationship followed his girl around like a puppy, always at her beck and call. Wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking about him. Except he wasn’t even that guy in high school. Not then, and definitely not now.
There’s really no logical reason for him to be this wound up, totally unable to do a single thing on his to-do list just because you’re not home. Leave it to your company to be the only one in the entire country that doesn’t give their employees Labor Day off.
That’s probably a gross exaggeration, but what does he care? He’s been tragically affected by this clearly personal transgression, and has to wait…two more hours? Seriously? You normally leave around 5:30, which means you’re home by six, and he’s not sure he can wait that long.
The sad fact of it all is that he’s already wasted almost the entire day not enjoying all of those relaxing activities he’d planned for. What’s even sadder is that he’s been half-hard for most of it, intermittently pausing his ridiculous pacing to grind the heel of his hand into his crotch for relief. Petulantly waiting for you to get home and take care of it for him.
Well, another hour’s gone by, it’s 5 pm, and he’s officially past his limit. At this point, he's probably better off handling it himself, at least until you're finally back. Then, you’re all his. 
He’ll fill you up with every last bit of pent-up frustration he’s felt since you left the house this morning, making you regret not just calling in sick. You might have to tomorrow after he’s done with you.
Joel drops onto the couch, laying to face the door so he’s the first thing you see when you walk in. Pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough to get his cock out, he wraps his hand around himself, immediately hissing out a breath through his teeth. Shit, he’s been hard for hours and just that slight touch already has him leaking precum all over his fingers. 
For a moment, he worries that maybe he’s a little too worked up, that he’ll cum way before he gets the chance to make you sorry for making him feel so desperate. So needy. And that makes him mad.
It should be your fingers covered in precum, your plush lips sucking him down to the hilt, and your pretty pussy aching with the need to have him inside you. Funny how you’re always so good for him, except today when he needs you the most.
His hand starts to move languidly before he can stop it, the slide wet and tight, just like he knows you’ll be. But it’s not you, and that makes him even angrier. If he can’t feel you the way he needs to, then maybe your voice will hold him over until he can. 
The phone only rings twice before you pick up.
“Baby, I’m busy right now. What’s up?” you answer, slightly out of breath. 
It’s cruel, but Joel honestly doesn’t give a shit if you’re busy. Not when his mind is this clouded with thoughts of you on your back, breathing much heavier than you are right now. But he manages to keep that to himself.
“You comin’ home soon?” he asks gruffly, still tugging on his cock, head thrown back on the armrest of the couch.
“Uhh, probably leaving in about…a half hour?” Your voice lilts like you had to double-check the time. “Everything okay?”
“Any chance you can leave now?” he tries again, side-stepping your question. 
The desperation in his voice is obvious, and it makes him feel even more pathetic. He wonders if you can hear it. Part of him hopes you can.
“Why, did something happen? Is Sarah okay?” you ask, clearly concerned. 
“S’fine, everythin’s fine. Just miss ya, s’all," he lies shakily.
Of course, he misses you, but nothing here is fine. His angrily weeping cock is a testament to that. He's all but fucking into his own fist now, hips bucking off the couch as he pants into the phone.
“Joel, what—are you touching yourself? Jesus,” you mumble, and he can hear your heels clacking against the floor like you’re walking somewhere. Quickly.
“Been thinkin’ about ya all damn day. Dunno why you went into work on a fuckin’ holiday,” he grunts. “Should’a been here with me, on your back, beggin’ for my cock like a good girl.” 
You inhale sharply and, though muted through the phone, he hears it loud and clear, dribbling more precum down his shaft. Unfamiliar voices start to filter through the speaker, so he’s guessing you can’t say much. 
And that’s okay. He has no problem filling the silence. Joel loves talking to you while he’s getting off.
“Had me feelin’ needy today, babygirl. Y’know I don’t like that,” he says dangerously. Your heels hit the ground faster, and he subconsciously matches his strokes to your pace. “Thought I was losin’ my mind for a while there. Was just about ready to let you do whatever you wanted to me when you got home, s’long as I got to fuck that tight pussy of yours.”
A door slams in the background, then all he can hear is you panting heavily in his ear. But when you finally speak again, your voice sounds different. Less like his good girl, and more like someone who knows they hold all the power.
“Oh, poor baby,” you coo, catching him off guard. “Did I leave you alone too long?”
He can tell you’re mocking him but, for some reason, his resolve starts to slip away more and more with every violent throb of his cock. Maybe it’s desperation. Or maybe he just likes it. 
“I’m so sorry,” you continue, murmuring sweetly in his ear. “I can make it all better…but only if you wait a little longer. Can you do that for me? Be my good boy.”
He bites back a groan, gripping the base of his cock hard to keep from cumming then and there. That's...new. And sexy as hell. He's still frenzied to the point of no return, but you also might've rewired something in his brain because he suddenly realizes he does want to be your good boy. Badly.
Fuck, he hopes you get home soon.
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That last half hour of work was torture. You spent the entirety of it, and the car ride afterward, marinating in your soaked underwear, anticipating everything Joel has in store for you when you get home.
You're not sure what came over you on the phone, but it sounded like he enjoyed it. A lot. It’s a dynamic you’d never thought to try in your relationship, not with Joel’s domineering personality. The fact that he went along with it at all must mean he’s going through it, and that’s something you’re a little too excited to see.
The house is quiet when you walk in, save for the sound of your keys dropping into the bowl by the door. You turn to hang your bag on a nearby coat rack, and that's when you see him.
Joel, still lying on the couch exactly where you assume you left him after your call, with his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock. He looks like a goddamn mess—sweating, hard as a rock, and leaking all over himself. His eyes are a little wild, more so than you've ever seen them. Christ, poor baby. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much.
“Aw, sweet boy. Is all this for me?" you smile softly. He sucks in a breath, visibly twitching in his hand, and your smile widens. “Sit up, I can’t play with you like this.”
He complies immediately, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You love how well he’s listening, even though he almost looks like he's in pain after being in this state for so long. For that, you think he deserves a reward.
So, you give him one—the one he’s been waiting for all day. You undress for him, maintaining eye contact as you slip off your stuffy business attire, finally ridding yourself of your oppressively sticky underwear. 
Dropping to your knees between his legs, you gaze up at him affectionately, mouth inches away from his drooling cock. 
"Tell me what you want," you lean in, pressing your lips against the smooth, velvety skin. "Still wanna fuck me? Get me on my back, begging for it?"
Your tongue darts out to taste him, and you moan, licking a wide stripe up to wrap your lips around the tip. He's salty and heady, and so fucking delicious, but he still hasn't answered you. Instead, his fingers thread through your hair, guiding you down halfway and back up, shallowly fucking your mouth.
"I—fuck, please...," he's struggling with his words, whimpering around each syllable. "—baby, I waited...been good, did what ya said."
You nod your head understandingly, or at least try to as you continue to let him thrust into the inside of your cheek. His eyes are hyperfocused on the way your skin bulges around him, each stroke sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down his tightening balls.
"Christ, you feel good. Worth waitin' for, so fuckin' worth it," he rasps, his fingers tensing in your hair. "Need ya to—," he repositions your head so he can thrust further, deeper until he's nudging the back of your throat, "—ngh, make me cum. Suck harder, baby, please."
Soft, hiccuped moans escape his parted lips, increasing in volume when you start to drool around him, down your chin and onto your breasts. You can tell he's about to burst, feeling his skin growing taut against your tongue.
"M'gonna—haah, gonna...," desperation clouds his eyes, still dictating his every thought and move. 
But you don't let him because that's not what he said he wanted earlier. He's allowed to buck into you a few more times before you pull off with a loud pop, and the needy, frustrated whine he lets out almost makes you reconsider. Almost.
"I'm gonna make you cum, I promise, but not with my mouth," you tell him, voice tinged with disappointment, wrecked from the force of taking him like that. "You were doing so well for me. Come down here, keep being my good boy and I'll make you feel good."
Plopping down on the carpet, you spread your legs so he can see how wet you are for him. It's only gotten worse since earlier, slick coating your thighs, shiny and all the more inviting. You lay back, trailing your fingers up your belly to your breast to tweak a nipple, sighing as you reach out to him with your other hand.
Again, he obeys, his desire to empty down your throat all but forgotten. His shirt is quickly discarded, followed by everything below his waist, and then he's shifting onto the floor between your legs.
"There's my sweet boy," you coo, running your hands up his chest through a smattering of coarse, dark curls, and it rumbles under your palms as he mewls sweetly at your praise. 
He leans over you, hovering like he's waiting for permission to touch you, but he doesn't need it. The only thing you're trying to do is guide him, not control him. You want to make sure he gets exactly what he was so patient for. 
"Wanna feel you, babygirl. Let me—," he amends what he was about to demand, "...can I touch you?"
You bite your lip nodding as you smile up at him, and he wastes no time dropping down to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sucking wetly as he presses his body flush against yours. You writhe underneath him, just as pent up as he is by now, the realization triggered by how incredible his naked body feels on top of you. 
"Fuckin' hell, you're soft," he moans into your ear, propped up on his forearms. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, and his moan turns guttural, raw like it clawed its way out. "Mmph, I can't—"
He lurches up to crash his lips into yours, kissing you sloppily, hungrily, as his hips finally dip to drag against where you're soaked and aching. But not for nearly as long as he's been, and right now, he comes first. You need him to know he can have you. That he doesn't have to wait anymore.
"Don't...don't fight it. You've been perfect, you deserve it," you gasp out, and his hips jerk, your words forcing a low keen past his lips and into your mouth. "Take, baby. Take what you need."
Joel doesn't take, he seizes, laying claim to every part of you. Like he's afraid he won't get another chance if he doesn't take full advantage of what you've given him right now.
He faintly reminds you of a puppy lacking object permanence, believing the next time you leave, he'll be stuck waiting for you to come back to him forever. God, you're not even sure how you fucked him up so badly, but it's clear by the way he's handling you that he won't let you go again.
He moves quickly. One moment, he's leaning back on his heels, digging his fingers into your waist to yank you up onto his thighs, and the next, he's fucking into you as hard and fast as a bullet train. His cock somehow feels thicker, heavier than it ever has when he breaches your cunt, and the stretch has you clawing at the carpet beneath you.
"Missed you all day, wanted you all goddamn day," he growls, plowing into you forcefully enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "Fuck, babygirl, you got no idea what I've been through."
Christ, that feels—it feels...Christ. He's hitting something. You have no idea what, but it feels ungodly, like if he keeps going just like that, you'll cum without his fingers on you at all. It's happened before with Joel, but it's rare—and it's only when he's deep, lighting up all of your nerve endings at once. Fuck, he's being so good today.
"S'okay, you're okay," you gasp, clenching down around him when he suddenly pounds into the spot dead on. "I...I'm here now. Just keep going there, right there."
He nods frantically, gritting his teeth as you continue to tighten around him.
"Good boy," you mumble deliriously, your back arching completely off the ground as your orgasm rocks you. 
"Shit, you—'m not touchin'...fuck, baby, you cummin'?" 
It hits him all at once, what's happening, and then he's cumming, too. He's loud through his entire release, alternating between drawn-out moans and hiccuped whimpers as he fills you up with a whole day's worth of pent-up frustration.
Thrusting until your aftershocks have subsided, he grinds in deep one last time, letting you milk him completely dry before he pulls out. You're boneless underneath him, your eyes glazed over while his are finally clear for the first time in almost ten hours. 
He lowers your body onto the floor and crawls over next you, pulling your body against his. His embrace is warm and pleasant, and enough to pull you out of your post-orgasm stupor. Wriggling in his arms to get more comfortable, you tilt your head back from where he'd tucked it under his chin to grin up at him.
"So you missed me, huh?"
He rolls his eyes, back to his usual, not-totally-depraved self, but you already know the answer. He just spent the last hour showing you exactly how much.
"Thought I already made that clear," he confirms gruffly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Next time, could ya maybe just use your vacation days? Please?"
"Sure," you laugh, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll save them up just for you." 
You reach up to scratch your fingernails across his beard, your other hand petting the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A soft noise rumbles low in his chest, but he tries to play it off by clearing his throat. Playfully raising an eyebrow, you continue your ministrations and it happens again.
"Baby, quit, 'm not a dog," he deadpans, even as he leans into your touch, his body betraying him.
"You sure about that? Because you sure were needy like one today."
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satcrvz · 6 months ago
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CHAPTER TWENTY; soft launch
navi
the two of you drove down streets, city lights leaking into the car, illuminating your faces. you didn't plan on this being the way he hears the playlist you'd made for him. but rather this than over text, right?
"so," he finally speaks up, "did you want to go somewhere or just drive around?"
you glance at him, "it was your idea! but we could go to wendys?" he could hear the smile in your tone, despite not looking at your face.
for just a moment, a comfortable silence filled the car. that was until the familiar tune of ‘show me how’ started playing. you let it play not thinking much of it, but somehow every lyric seemed to be so much louder.
in a hushed tone you mutter out, "oh my gosh," while resting your head on the window.
yuta contains a smile knowing exactly what's happening and mentally punches himself for not realizing earlier. half the song went by before he mustered up the courage to finally say something.
"hey." you hum and lift your head to acknowledge him. "y'know i like you too right?"
your eyes quickly widen after you process his words. "wait, who told you? was it maki? i'm going to jump out"
he glances over at you and smiles, "you're just gonna ignore my confession huh? i almost shit my pants saying that!" you look down to play with your fingers out of nervousness. "and you're gonna ignore my question? it was maki wasn't it?"
he confirms your suspicion and knows he'll regret it later. he pulls into a parking space and looks over at you.
"can i be your boyfriend?"
it's hard not to smile but you immediately accept his offer. he shuts off the vehicle, and like he has many times before, runs to open your door for you.
the two of you walk toward the fast food building. "so is this technically our first date?" you ask while playfully sidestepping and nudging his shoulder.
he whines at you to not count this as your first date, "our first date will be something better. trust me."
the rest of the night consisted with the two of you eating and exchanging stories about how you acted when you liked each other. you giggled at one confession in particular, him thinking you and megumi had a thing going on.
"yuta? dude, you knew megumi before me, i think you’d know if he had a girl!" you say inbetween laughs.
"you could’ve been a secret girlfriend… and don’t dude me! we’re dating now"
that makes you laugh even harder, so hard that you missed his sly antics. he’d taken a straw and balled up the paper at the end and blew it at you.
any other time you probably would’ve thrown food at him, but you were in public so the tamest thing you could do was flick him off.
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:3 confession guys
kendrick and drake beef a lil funny. i see why j cole apologized, i wouldn’t want to mess with kendrick either 😭
one more chapter and perhaps a bonus :p
DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT WITH THE STRAW THING? MY BROTHER USED TO DO IT TO ME
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samofmine · 3 months ago
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maybe i'm just a sad lil shit that needs to make everything extra depressing but. just consider. sam only figuring out he's in love with dean after he dies. no, actually, in the moment he dies. right then and there. he's closer to him than he's been since they were younger, sharing dean's last breath with him, and in the moment he feels like he's the one about to die and he feels dean's heart slowing to a stop and his features softening as if he's just falling asleep and he thinks i want to kiss him.
shit.
i want to kiss him? what?
and then dean is gone, completely gone, and the pain takes over everything and he can't really think or feel anything past it.
but give it 2 to 3 days, sam still feeling lost and trying to figure out who he is without his brother, for real this time, so he allows himself to think about him. about them. and he remembers wanting to kiss him.
and, yeah, that's when he realizes he loved dean way more than he was supposed to, or even allowed to.
that makes him suffer even more, the aching sadness now wrapped with guilt, and longing, and regret, and all that could've been but he didn't realize he wanted it to be in time. and would it matter if he had? would that change anything? did dean ever feel the same? would he just hate him if he knew?
sam will never know.
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