#(but if you do listen to it. tell me about it i need to know what it was like)

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

Simone de Rochefort shared the email she sent to Jim Bankoff, the CEO of Vox Media who sold Polygon, on bluesky. The text of the email is transcribed below:

"Hi Jim,

I'm writing to let you know how incredibly disappointed I am about the decision to sell Polygon to Valnet. Even though I'm one of the fortunate few to still be employed, I'm still furious and heartbroken.

I was in Europe when the sale went public. A few days later, a reader recognized me at a cafe in Paris. He couldn't believe what had happened, and asked me how it was possible, in the United States, that a workforce like ours could just be disposed of. He also added, completely unprompted, that American workers should "choose violence." I just thought I'd mention that! It was cool to be recognized halfway around the world for my work. The readers have always appreciated it, even if you don't. But I'm going to tell you about it anyway.

At Polygon, we wrote stories and made videos that were unique in entertainment media - they were weird and well-researched and funny. We also got awards for our reporting (including myself and my now-laid-off colleague Clayton Ashley - we were nominated for an ASME and we won a New York Videogame Critics Circle award).

We attracted brand sponsorships, some of which my team was in the middle of working on when my colleagues were laid off. My understanding is that Vox will be doing make-good sponsorships for the businesses that had contracted with Polygon. I wonder if they will seek out Vox Media again, once that process is finished.

My colleagues who were laid off spent years building connections and trust with sources in our industry. On the video team, subjects gave us hours of their time and resources for interviews. People trusted us to tell their stories. You can't do good journalism without that trust, and that's been at minimum bruised by this sale and the dismantling of the team.

Our readers and viewers are wonderful. I applied to work at Polygon because I read a comment chain on the site that I expected to be full of sexism and vitriol. Instead I found thoughtful people having a civil and intelligent discussion. What a rarity on the internet!

Did you know that Polygon's YouTube comments have always been overwhelmingly positive? My games journalist colleagues at other sites marveled at the fact that at Polygon, I never got hate mail. Was never harassed. That I could scroll freely through the comments of any video that I or my colleagues made and see people appreciating our work. That is so, so rare.

I worked at Vox Media for 9 years. The week before the sale, as I was preparing to go on vacation, I stayed up till 5 AM so that I could finish my next video. No one asked me to do that! That was frankly stupid, considering how little you and the company valued our work. This doesn't make me look very good or very smart, but I'm including it anyway.

The truth is I like working and the feeling of productivity, and I liked what I was making. I felt like that made it worth it.

It didn't! I suppose what I am saying is that Polygon's employees did everything possible to make the site a success. We built a profitable, respected publication.

You, and Vox Media's leadership, didn't know what to do with it. You failed to make a good thing work for you. That's quite sad, and quite an indictment on Vox Media as a whole.

I used to have a lot of faith in the company's longevity. I don't anymore, because of your poor decision-making, and your failure to listen to the people who were telling you what Polygon needed.

I had always said that Vox Media is an amazing employer. That out of all the media companies, it was the best. I encouraged people who are bright and hard-working and talented to apply for work there. I felt so lucky to have my job. I don't think you know yet how many bridges you've burned with people like me who would've jumped at the chance to work for you, and let themselves be exploited along the way.

A couple years ago, a former employee told me that digital media would never love me back, and that I should leave Vox. They said I wouldn't understand how much the company takes from its employees until I tried working somewhere else.

Well, now I work for Valnet! Thank you for the push out the door!

Meanwhile, if you couldn't make a profitable website like Polygon work, then what hope is there for my colleagues at other Vox outlets?

How many unprofitable ventures will be propped up with profits from the Polygon sale, and for how long? Before you and the folks with a head for business (or so I'm told!) have to hit the ledgers again and find something to sell, or someone to let go. Or will the company just enjoy a tax write-off for 2025 and then … what?

Polygon was special, and it was valuable, and it was profitable, and you sold it, at a time when the economy was at a low point - and when Polygon, against all odds, was still making money.

This does not make sense to me. Please feel free to respond and convince me.

Sincerely, Simone de Rochefort"

[maskedbyghost]

Part 3 of Simon Leaving During Sex Like a Coward

It started with flowers. It’s not the kind you grab at the corner store in a panic, but ones clearly ordered days in advance — expensive, moody ones, all dark reds and deep purples. You didn’t open the door when they arrived immediately. You just stood behind it, your arms crossed, and watched them through the peephole before deciding to get them.

On day two, he texted.

I know I don’t deserve a reply. I just want you to know I’m not giving up.

You left it on read on purpose. And it felt good.

On day three, he was parked outside your building when you came back from work. Just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking up when you approached, but not moving toward you.

“You stalking me now?” You said, not slowing your pace.

He didn’t smile. “No. I’m just here in case you feel like yelling at me in person today.”

You didn’t. You went upstairs and slammed the door a little harder than necessary, and when you looked out the window twenty minutes later, he was still standing there, doing absolutely nothing. Just waiting. Like a dog. A huge, sad, apologetic dog.

You caved on day five.

“Fine,” you’d said, opening the door just enough to stare at him through the gap. “You want a chance? Take me out. And I swear to God if you bring me to some ‘cozy little place’ where the waitress flirts with you, I will throw your wallet in a river.”

He didn’t even blink. “Got it.”

The first date was at a sushi place where the staff barely looked up. You sat across from him in silence until he cleared his throat.

“You look good,” he said, nervous in a way you’d never seen before.

“I know.”

He cracked a smile. You didn’t.

For a second date, he chose a little cafe by the river. You sipped your drink while he talked about stupid things, about his neighbor's cat and how he chipped a tooth once in a pub fight because he tripped over a pool cue — anything to fill the space. You just listened.

“You don’t say much anymore,” he said quietly after a while.

“I said you could take me out. Didn’t say I’d make it easy.”

He nodded, like he agreed with the punishment.

On the third date, he let you choose. You picked laser tag. You didn’t go easy. You shot him in the back six times and made fun of how slow he was, called him grandpa, and asked if he needed a sit-down break. He called you a menace and grinned through all of it. When the round ended, and you were both panting in the hallway, he looked at you with something like relief.

“You smiled,” he said, like it physically pained him to notice.

“It was at your expense,” you said, wiping sweat from your neck.

“Still counts.”

By the fifth date, you were letting him walk beside you without an awkward amount of space. Still no kissing. He reached for your hand once, and you pulled away with a look so sharp he apologized out loud.

“You don’t get to touch me yet,” you said.

“Right.”

“But you can carry my leftovers.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He got the tattoo on a Tuesday.

Didn’t tell you about it. He just showed up at your door again, holding your favorite overpriced dessert like it was a peace offering. You opened the door and immediately raised an eyebrow.

“No flowers today?”

“Didn’t think they’d survive the guilt trip you were gonna hit me with.”

“Smart.”

He stepped inside when you let him. “I got something,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“If it’s another apology letter I’m gonna start framing them like art.” You said with a smirk on your face.

He didn’t say anything. Just tugged off his glove and held up his left hand. On the inside of his ring finger, you could see fresh ink. Your name in cursive letters.

“…Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

You stared. “You tattooed my name on your ring finger.”

“Mhm.”

“Like. Where a ring would go.”

“Exactly.”

You blinked at him, still shocked.

“If this doesn’t prove how sure I am about you,” he said slowly, “then I dunno what will… but just to be safe—” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, sleek black bag from that stupid luxury brand you once mentioned in passing. “Bribery.”

You snorted despite yourself. “You really think a designer bag’s gonna make me forgive you?”

He looked sheepish. “No. But I thought it’d make you laugh.”

You took it from his hand. “I’ll laugh when I sell it and buy ten pairs of shoes.”

“That’s fair.”

You opened the bag. Inside was your favorite candy, a folded napkin from the cafe, and a tiny note that said “I remember everything.”

You didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then...

“You’re really not gonna give up, huh?”

“Never.”

You sighed. “Fine. You can kiss my forehead.”

He chuckled as he leaned in gently, pressed his lips just there, warm and steady, and didn’t ask for more.

It wasn’t until weeks later, after more petty jokes and slow conversations and him learning exactly how many hoops you’d make him jump through, that you finally let him spend the night again. You were already in bed when he came back from brushing his teeth, and you didn’t say anything as he slipped under the covers. Just pulled him in, hands on his chest, legs sliding over his, the way they used to.

He kissed you carefully. Like he didn’t want to push it. But you tugged him in with both hands, and he pressed you down into the mattress like it hadn’t been months, like he was starving for every second of you.

When he was finally inside you again, moving slowly, sweat running down his spine, and arms shaking from trying to hold back, he looked at you like he could cry.

“I love you,” he said, voice breaking open on the words.

You rolled your eyes, breathless. “Is it my turn now to leave orr…?”

He groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder, muttering something about you being a nightmare, and you just laughed and wrapped your legs around him tighter, because you knew damn well he liked it that way.

---------------------------------------------

idkkk....i kinda lost inspiration halfway...sorry if this sucks..

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbaybay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs @mad-die45 @readingthingy @actualpoppy @amongthe141 @whore4romance @thatghostlykid

[inbabylontheywept]

Hi there, I love your writing and saw one of your recent answered asks. If you feel like it, could you tell or point us to a story about how you were taught kindness? I worry I have not learned enough kindness.

I actually got out of bed to write this. I saw the ask, and I knew the story, and I knew what I wanted it to be. It's a little fire and brimstone, compared to my other stories, but I think that's an important part. 

My mom was a young woman's leader for our ward and she cared a lot about her charges. One of the girls in her group had parents that were in the middle of a messy divorce, and with the mom reentering the workforce after 15 years, schedules were hectic. So my mom picked up their daughter from school for a while. The daughter only lived a block away from us, so it was a small thing to do for a family going through a very painful change.

Said daughter was fat. She'd been fat since we were all kids and she was deeply ashamed of it. Always trying to fix it. Always reading about and talking about diets. And one day, I was sitting in the back seat, and she was talking with my mom about some documentary she'd seen about the corn industry, and how corn syrup was in everything, and I remember her saying "It's literally poison."

And I just didn't leave it be.  

I said something about if she was sure it was literal, and she said yeah, totally, and I asked her if she knew what literal went, and my mom shot daggers at me through the rear view mirror before changing the topic. They chatted, and my mom told her some stuff about worrying less about food, and I don't remember the details but I know my mom was trying to steer her away from disordered eating. Then we arrived at her house, and she got out, and after that it was just me and my mom in the car. 

And it was awkward. We drove for maybe a half block before my mom said, Babs, what the hell was that, and I said something about how that's not what literally means, and she took me to task for it. 

Who cares what literally means, she said. Her parents are getting divorced. She feels terrible about her body. She feels terrible about everything. And instead of listening to her, you felt the need to point out that you're smarter than her. That you know a word she doesn't. You feel big, putting her down like that? 

I didn't have an answer. We sat there a few moments, silent, before she spoke again. I will never forget how tired she sounded. 

I know she isn't as smart as you, she said. But she's doing the best she can. And you could be doing so much more than this.

There was nothing I could say to that. I saw her face in the rearview a few times on the short ride home, and she wasn't sobbing but there were tears going down her face. I think she sat in the car twenty minutes after pulling in, just trying to get her composure back. I checked on her from the living room window like ten times. I can't remember the last time I felt like that huge of a piece of shit.

My mom is a gentle woman. She cried over worms with me. She hardly ever yelled, and she apologized after she did. That conversation caved my skull in like a cinder block dropped from a skyscraper. And I deserved it. 

I know it's probably not the tumblr way to encourage shame. But I have found it useful anyway. I think it is useful for me, to have a specific moment of knowing what failure looks like and feels like.  Missing the person to pick out the part that would make me look good, missing the big view of their life, missing the idea that what they need is not necessarily to be right. Too may misses.

There are a lot of stupid things that have crawled to the tip of my tongue, only to get stopped by the memory of my mom saying you could be doing so much more than this. 

I will not make her say that a second time.

[xclowniex]

I think what's one of the most frustrating thing about speaking about antisemitism, is that you can talk about specific instances like when people use zionist as a dog whistle for jew and people will still pipe up and go "no, you're just crying antisemitism i dont use zionist as a dog whistle"

Like cool buddy 👍 glad you don't, but that doesn't mean others don't as well.

If jews are talking about a specific type of rhetoric, and you don't do that rhetoric then the conversation is not about you.

To use the same example, yes not everyone who calls people zionists are using it as a dog whistle. But some do. Multiple neo nazi dog whistles literally revolve around using zionist as a dog whistle for jew.

By denying that it happens, you are denying antisemitism.

Even going "well i don't see it happening" doesn't matter. If a tree falls and no one is around to see it did it actually fall? I don't personally see with my own two eyes police brutality against black people in the U.S a part from anything which makes the news here, as I don't live in the states. That doesn't mean that it doesn't happen. It still happens without me witnessing it. And there is also this phenomenon where it may happen around you, but you just don't pick up on it as it's not relevant to you. If you're not jewish, it doesn't personally harm you so it is understandable that your brain doesn't register it. Still doesn't mean it doesn't happen.

Also people lie!! Like all the time. Some people will use dog whistles and lie that they don't know the true meaning when they do.

But assuming someone is using zionist in a dog whistle way to keep with that example, without knowing what their specific usage means, it's still antisemitism! You can be antisemitic unintentionally. Which is why you need to listen to jews when we tell you when you're being antisemitic.

[heartyluv]

Not the same anon that originally requested this, but I absolutely loved your fic where Zayne and Sylus react to you saying you want to be the first to die. The way you wrote their reactions was perfect and wonderful to read, and (if you’re interested, of course) I’d love to see how the other three guys would also reply to such a statement c:

I only recently found your account and I can’t wait to read through more of your works <3

Note: I’m so happy that you enjoyed and even more so that you’re considering reading more. It makes me super happy. I’m really hoping I wrote Xavier and Rafayel accurately. I’m kinda nervous about theirs, but I hope you enjoy, luvly!

Warning: Mentions of Xavier in an accident, Mentions of Caleb dying (THEY ARE OKAY!!!)

Link to Zayne and Sylus’ <3

Creds to @/enchanthings-a for the divider!

Rafayel

You were elated when your boyfriend invited you over for a little date in his studio. Of course you said yes, because not only is Rafayel hard to say no to, but his studio is one of your favorite places to be.

It’s where you feel your safest to create, and it’s not just about painting. You draw, color, and even write poetry when you’re there. You completely understood what he meant when he told you that the energy in this place was so empowering because you’ve experienced it first hand.

As you and he work on your own respective projects side by side, he starts telling you about how he recently rewatched Romeo and Juliet. You listened intently, even if you already knew the story. But it was as he told it that you found yourself growing slightly emotional.

The story is something almost everyone is familiar with, whether they learned it in school or took it upon themselves to read it on their own time.

The story of two people loving each other so much and so hard that it kills them, because the mere thought of them not being alive to experience life with you, build a stronger love with you, makes nothing else feel worth it—it’s incredibly heartbreaking. And now that you have a boyfriend, the sentiment is much heavier. The thought of Rafayel dying, stirs a pain so uncomfortable in your chest that you know never, ever want to experience it.

“Hey,” he calls to you gently, noticing how dazed out you seemed. He sees the tears forming right above your waterline when you face him, and immediate concern is etched across his ethereal face.

“Let me guess? It makes you cry too?” he teases, gently rubbing your cheek and smearing a faint light blue paint on your skin. “I’m not ashamed to say that I succumb to the emotions every time myself. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t.”

But when you don’t laugh, when your lower lip quivers the more you memorize his features like he’ll disappear, he began to realize this has become something he needs to take a little more seriously.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asks innocently, completely dumbfounded by your change in emotions.

“I’m so sorry,” you finally speak, your words fumbling out as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You feel embarrassed, but you know better than to feel that way around him. He always makes sure you know that embarrassment will never be a real thing between you two. Nothing is off-limits. “It just…the story. It makes me think of you—of us.”

He tilts his head, his soft purple hair swaying across his forehead. “Oh? What do you mean?”

You sigh, taking a deep breath as you get ready to lay your little heart out on the table like you’ve done for him dozens of times.

“Rafayel, I legitimately cannot lose you,” you emphasize, feeling your heart thump harder in your chest from intense emotions. Your voice is shaky as you continue. “And I know this is so random and I didn’t mean to make you telling me about your movie night into a whole thing, but the thought of me experiencing anything in this life without you makes me..sick. It would break me. It makes me realize that I have to be the first one to go the day our time on this Earth is up.”

He smiles softly as you, cupping your cheek in his hand. “Have you seen how I act when you take more than five extra minutes to come home?”

That makes you laugh, a joyous feeling sparking in your being. Most people dislike anyone who turns something serious into something lighthearted, but your Raf always has a way of making heavy situations and conversations feel weightless.

“But in all seriousness,” his face shifts to match his tone to let you know that he takes your worries and thoughts seriously. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that. Ever. You know why?” He stands from his stool, walking to stand between your leg where you sit. “Because we are never going to be apart. I’ve already told you before, you’re not allowed to leave me.” He winks, making the tension ease.

“I’d swim across every ocean for you a million times over. For a man like me to find and experience the love of someone more glorious than himself, it’s not a privilege I take for granted. I’ve always been Rafayel, but I can admit that I will always be a better him, with you beside me. You add too much value and good to my life for you to ever think that I could actually survive without you. I can deal with a lot, but a world with no you? That’s too harsh.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You have nothing to worry about. I feel just as intensely as you do, pretty girl. I don’t want you thinking of what could be. Think of everything in between, yeah?”

He leans down to kiss your lips and you desperately cling to him. “You’ll never lose me and l’ll never lose you, fair?”

You chuckle, knowing that conversations like this make his heart hurt, too. Similarly to you, your boyfriend hates the idea of abandonment or being separated from you for any reason. He doesn’t take the idea of it lightly. But when he needs to be stronger for you, there’s nothing powerful enough to crush his will to protect your heart.

“Fair,” you nod with a smile.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” He kisses your nose. “Now, why don’t we go for a walk on the beach? We can see about getting something sweet on the way.” He holds his hand out to you and when you slide your hand into his, you know that no matter what the further holds, thinking of what you have now will always be more important.

Xavier

You almost had a heart attack when the hospital called you to let you know that your boyfriend has been in a car accident. They assured you it wasn’t serious, but the only person you’ve ever loved and accident being in the same sentence, made you experience emotions you never thought you were capable of.

They said he couldn’t have called you himself since he was going through some tests and check ups, but not being able to hear his voice made you feel…insane.

When you ran into the hospital, begging for his name and room number, a nurse walked you to him with too much ease. You needed her to be faster, much faster.

“He’s right there. Room 410,” the lady politely smiles. You can’t bother with kindness, moving past her and rushing into the room. He’s sitting on a hospital bed, his blood pressure being checked by the doctor standing beside him.

“Hon,” he says with slightly wide eyes. “I guess the hospital called you.”

“Xavier, oh my god,” you cry, running towards him. You cup his face in your hands, running your eyes over him like your scan is better than a doctor’s. “Are you in pain? How’s your head? Your body?” His eyes stay on you the whole time as you examine him, the doctor chuckling softly beside you both.

All you smell is alcohol, rubber gloves, and oversaturated—but necessary—cleanliness. You don’t like him here. You don’t like it one bit.

“You’re free to go home,” the doctor confirms. “Just make sure you take the pain medicine if you need it. Other than that, nothing to worry about.”

When the doctor leaves, you finally weep. You thought the absolute worst. You thought you lost him.

“I was so scared,” you cry, resting your head on his shoulder as his hands comes to the back of your head to soothe you. “What happened?”

“The taxi I was taking to come see you…A car came out of nowhere down the intersection on a red light, and it was a hard collision against the backseat area where I sat. I saw it last minute before I was able to move, just barely.”

“Xavier… I..” you trail off, not even wanting to finish. “I can’t lose you, Xav. I would rather die than lose you.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says gently, his hand going down your back.

“I do. I can’t live without you. We can’t control how it ends, but however it does, you can never be the one to go first. I’ll never survive it.”

“And neither would I,” he asserts. “A life without you is a life I don’t care to have. Losing you is essentially the death of me.” It falls silent between you two as he makes you pull back to look at him.

“How about this? How about both of us make it a point to be present for as long as we can. Like you said, while we can’t control the end, we can control what our current reality is. And that’s you and I together, loving each other, being here for each other.”

You nod, melting into his touch as he wipes your stray tears. “Don’t say things like that though, okay? Even in extreme situations as concerning as this. I don’t like to think of anything happening to you just as much as you don’t like it for me. Your life is too important to me for you to say anything so drastic over yourself.”

“You’re right,” you sniffle, making it a point to kiss him again—this time extra hard. “I won’t, I swear. But YOU,” you point a finger at his chest. “You’re not allowed to leave the house for the next…forever!”

He smiles, kissing your hand then pulling you close again to kiss the side of your neck. “I’m sure you’ll make sure of that?”

You run your hand through his hair, giggling as he sporadically places kisses wherever his lips will land. “You can count on it.”

Caleb

You shot out of your sleep, your heart racing and your body dampened with a thin sheen of sweat. Cold wet tears fall down your cheeks and you quickly wipe them away, not liking how they feel on your skin. You blink tiredly in the dark bedroom, looking over to where Caleb is supposed to be. Not only was he not there, but it was cold when you placed your palm against the bed. He’s been gone awhile.

You had another nightmare. For some reason, they’ve been plaguing you more and more lately, their origin not making sense when the events occur in your sleep state. But this one, this was the worst by far.

The imagery of Caleb dead. Shot and killed. It replayed over and over until your mind finally won the right battle, letting you wake up to see your reality. But the fact that Caleb wasn’t beside you, it made you panic.

You threw the blankets back, put your slippers on, and exited the bedroom to search for him. You wouldn’t allow that dream to make you think it was real, that he was actually gone. You refused.

He wasn’t hard to find at all though, sitting in his hobby room, putting together another aircraft set he collected. He heard the door open, turning around to see you. He smiled widely, turning fully in his office chair. You didn’t waste a moment more, walking up to him briskly. He pressed his head to your stomach, kissing it tenderly before looking up at you.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” you question softly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs. “Didn’t wanna wake you, so I just came to mess with this.” He sees the sadness on your face, the dewdrop tears that rested on your lashes that you didn’t wipe away when he looks up.

“You’ve been crying?” he stands immediately, ready to handle whatever has his girl in distress. “What happened?”

You try to smile the sadness away, but you see it all over again. You rest your forehead on his chest, your body shaking as you silently cry. You understand that it’s okay—normal, to be emotional about something like this, but you feel like no one will ever get it unless they’ve experienced it. His death… it felt so vivid. It makes your whole body ache.

“I had a nightmare,” you weep, trying to push it out. “That you died, Caleb. It felt so real…I had to make sure. And when you weren’t in bed I…”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, kissing your head before wrapping his arms around you. You press your hands to his back, pressing close just to make sure he’s real.

“I’d die without you, Caleb. I wouldn’t be able to survive…” You choke on your sobs. “I’d rather it be me than you, every time. You don’t understand.”

“Never,” he says sharply, but not to cut. Just to make his point abundantly clear. “Death is never an option for you, do you understand me?” He’s stern, holding your face in his hands.

“I do understand what it’s like to love someone with your whole being, so much so that you can’t differentiate what’s you and what’s them because you’re so intertwined. It’s why I will never let you put me above you. Ever. Because you are what makes me. There is nothing for me if you’re gone.”

You only cry harder, trying to wipe the scene away from your brain and embrace this moment and all the good ones that’ll follow one day.

“I don’t want you to ever speak over yourself like that again. No matter what’s troubling you, causing you pain, rather than wishing it would happen in another way that would only bring you harm, just tell me about it so I can deal with the brunt of it. I’m meant to protect you, let me do that.”

You nod, letting him ease your overwhelming emotions. “I’m sorry,” you say meekly. “Can we go to bed, please? Together?”

“You don’t even need to ask. C’mon.”

He takes your hand, not pushing for details on the dream or the particulars. He’d never imagine making you relive something so traumatizing, even if it was fake. It was real enough to actually hurt you, and that was enough for him to make sure he comforts you to the best of his abilities because you in any type of pain is something he has always vowed to keep you safe from.

[okwonyo]

BABYGIRL, I GOT YOU ୨୧ right where i wanted.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗉.

𝟏𝟐𝟏𝟓𝒾──── enhypen 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦

HEESEUNG

that loser loves to play videogames. it’s a known truth; his entire room is decorated around his gaming set. despite what happens with other couples, you are not bothered by his hobbies. him being so focused on his games is downright endearing and while he is busy playing, you are busy doing others things as well.

today, however, heeseung has other plans. he doesn’t let you escape from the room when he puts his headphones on. he barely lets you get even a tad away from him before his fingers are wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer to himself. you let yourself be dragged, too confused to fight back.

“don’t leave me, angel,” he grins. he makes you sit on his lap. his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you close enough to be able to put his chin on your shoulder. you are a tad too stunned to speak— mouth agape as he kisses your cheek, “you’ll be my lucky charm.”

JAY

you have him wrapped around your finger. he is too obvious about it for no one to tell. he has never tried to hide it, his growing obsession with you, his devotion to you— in fact, he is quite proud of it. you are all that runs his mind, all he ever thinks about, the only thing his eyes are fixated on.

even now, as he colleagues persist on talking about work to him—something that must be important, he supposes— he is well too focused on you coming back from adjusting your makeup in the restroom to even try to act as if he was listening. he adjust his position, smiling, watching you come closer to him.

jay’s eyes lock with yours and he feels electricity run all over his body. he taps his thighs with his hands, telling you to come sit there, he wants you close. his hands are already on your hips before you are sitting and with you hands on his shoulders, you giggle when he kisses the back of your ear. “i missed you,” he whispers.

JAKE

“jake,” you chuckle, patting your boyfriend’s head to get his attention. his embrace becomes tighter, his arms hug your waist strongly as his mumbles in your neck. you wait for him to lift up his head or at least loosen his grip on you, but he doesn’t— it makes you smile. “i’ll need to get up, eventually.”

no one has ever liked your personal space as much as jake does. he has been following you around the house the entire day and he ended up sitting down after long hours. however, he didn’t forget to drag you along with him. he pulled you onto his laps with you barely realizing it.

his nose tickles your bare skin when he turns around to kiss your neck, “but you look so pretty sitting there, my love,” his tone is whiny, needy, your heart pumps faster in your chest. “stay close to me, please.”

SUNGHOON

he walks backwards with his lips still locked with yours. it’s hard to follow him on your tippy toes, especially when he is kissing you so hard. his hands cup your face gently, yet, firmly enough to drag you along with him. he bites your lower lip and you whine. he groans against your mouth.

the back his legs hit the couch, and he lets himself sit on it. “climb on me, baby,” his says, out of breath between a kiss. you do as you are told. your knees sink into the couch, at either side of his thighs. his hands hold your hips down and set you on his lap firmly. he smiles against your lips when you run your fingers through his silky smooth hair.

you have been kissing for an eternity. so much that you don’t know what breathing feels like. your lips are swallowed and your lipstick is all over his lips— but he can’t bring himself to stop. his entire body burns for you, especially when you are well sat on his laps, with your hands gripping on his shirt for dear life.

SUNOO

he reads you like an open book. he knew it, his day was a little bit too peaceful, too calm to be true— his girlfriend always has something funny in mind. he narrows his eyes when you approach him with a dizzying pretty and sweet smile. he ignores his pulse rising up, “what do you want?”

“is that sit taken?” he doesn’t answer, too confused to not gawk at you. there is a silence that sets itself in the room. his mouth is agape, but now words get out of it. he looks at you, with narrowed eyes, as you turn around and step backwards. he is still lost when you start to sit down slowly.

he instinctively holds his hands up when you finally fall on his lap. sunoo tries to bite down a smile. his miserable fail make you laugh out loud— he concedes, “fine, i didn’t see that one coming,” he is a tad bit red in the face. “but if you want to sit on my lap so bad, you can ask normally.”

JUNGWON

he finds it endearing, how despite how angry or pouty you can get, you can never stay away from him for too long. he has all the right to make fun of you a little— in his head— because, he can say the exact same thing about himself. he is quite relieved that you accept to be in the same room as he is, although you refuse to talk to him.

he watches you walk through the leaving room. he is a bit anxious, his heart shakes in chest with mere worry as he watches you pace back and forth with your arms crossed under your chest. “princess,” you don’t answer, or at least glance at his direction. “are you really not going to talk to me?”

jungwon is a determined man. therefore he does stop calling you, but he catches one of your crosses arms as you pass by the couch. he pulls you closer to him, “c’mere,” he smiles when you let yourself be sat on his lap, still not looking at him and a bit pouty. he kisses your puckered lips gently, “i love you, okay? don’t be mad at me.”

RIKI

“let’s take pictures,” your boyfriend says after his eyes land on the photobooth a few meters away. he drags you towards it without a second thought and you let him lead you to it, not putting up a fight because you do want to take pictures of you and him together.

riki takes more than half of the seat when he gets in. and instinctively, he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close— you end up on his lap in a millisecond. “do you even have a coin?” you ask, as he hugs your waist, letting you get comfortable on your brand new seat.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he leans in, taking you with him, to put the coin in the machine. he waits until the photobooth’s countdown starts to speak again, “come closer,” he smiles. you are granted with a kiss when you do, as soon as the flash goes on.

분지 ܃ ummm ok

© 𝖮𝖪𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖸𝖮 ୨୧ 𝟐𝐎𝟐𝟓 ── taglist open 。

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 15. The beginning of the end

PREV PART trigger warnings: (threatened) violence, (past, kinda) medical + physical + emotional neglect, mentions of drugging, anger, the start of yandere behaviour, delusional behaviour, swearing, tell me if I missed any!  main m.list      series m.list

Jason is going to do something he’ll regret, and this time Dick feels no reason to hold him back. After your little stunt of just leaving to your friends house for a week, without a phone, and ignoring Damian at school Dick feels no reason to make shit easier for you. Perhaps he’s feeling petty, disregarded like a piece of trash. But then again, isn’t he just that?

In the week you had left Bruce had found your medication stash, and instead of taking it like he predicted he would he sabotaged it. Adding a little bit of drugs that’s meant to make you sleepy enough that you’ll need more help, at least that’s what he told Dick. He doesn’t know if he believes his adoptive father, it’s clear he’s spiralling.

Dick remembers your mama, he remembers her warmth, how she saw through his disguise and how she helped him with grieving Jason. Gods, she was an angel descended down to earth to leave too soon. It makes him think of how similar your future fate might be to your mother’s, it makes him question Barbara if she knew what he could do to bond with you further, but no one but Duke knows and he made it clear he’s not on their side. He likes to think your mama would have sided with them, would have given them the grace you refuse to give. She wouldn’t, she would curse them all to a crueller fate the Joker had given Jason.

But your pills isn’t something that enraged Jason. No, he found that it was quite a good idea. It was your blatant disregard for their feelings, to a degree Dick could understand why you disregard them but he won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt.

So here he is, with Jason waiting for a few of your friends ready to threaten them. At least he convinced Jason to not go as Red Hood, isn’t he so kind?

Now, there is no time to get distracted, your friends will pick you up at work tonight and they need the fear of your brothers in them.

“I’m so excited for (Name) and Maria,” Francis says to Willow, grinning ear from ear. Oh perhaps the brothers will listen tot his for a short moment. “they finally picked an act for the talent-show.”

“About damn time,” Willow agrees, grinning just as big. “oh and I cannot wait to see that Damian’s face, he’s going to be so surprised that (Name) is even participating!”

Okay, now they’ve heard enough.

“Excuse me,” Dick greets them with his award winning smile (no really, he won awards). “could we have a moment of your time?”

Willow and Francis look at each other and pulled a disgusted face, a face that pissed Jason off enough to grab Francis’ collar. “We shouldn’t be polite to these little fucks,” he hisses as he drags Francis in an alley, something that makes Willow follow immediately. And by the look in her face she was about to kick Jason in the fucking nuts. “they need to be learned a lesson-”

“Get your hands off my fucking brother, you sibling beating bitch!” She shouts, kicking Jason in the side but it does nothing. The kick was like a little tickle and Jason laughs at how pathetic it is. Truly, (Name) you want these pathetic little fucks protecting you?

Dick tsked and forced Willow to stand in a corner with her brother who looks suspicious. “We don’t want to fight,” he says, but it’s a clear lie. And when he saw Willow’s deadpan he gave her a smile that Willow could only describe as crazed. “yet.”

At least Francis has the sense to attempt to protect his little sister, but all Jason could think about was smashing his head in the wall for filling you with thoughts of leaving. For giving you the confidence to act like a bitch (what they don’t know is that this won’t intimidate Francis and Willow, no, they’ll tell you all about it and whatever you do. Don’t worry they’ll stand by your side). “Don’t glare you little shit,” Jason hisses at Francis. “you have no right, who the fuck do you guys think you are?!”

Willow scoffs; “Maybe we need some context to two strangers pulling us in an alley and clearly having a fucking issue with us!”

She knows who they are, Dick is sure of it. She has to.

“Because all I see is two insecure men that can’t believe their little sibling is fucking awesome and no longer needs them!” She shouts, and now it hits him. Willow doesn’t see them as Dick and Jason, no. Simply as two poor brothers. “And now you are fucking intimidating us?!”

Well turns out Jason has less self-control then Dick remembers, because now it was Willow’s head who was smashed into a wall. Blood dripping down her face, and for a second Dick has a moment of clarity. What the fuck are they doing? They are meant to protect civilians, yet here they are smashing a small girls head in a wall. Francis makes a sound of surprise and quickly pulls Willow to his side, his eyes wide as he spoke; “You know at first I couldn’t believe (Name) that the Wayne’s are such pieces of shit. But now I know that’s even too kind.”

Dick chuckles. “As if anyone would believe you if you were to tell them what happened then and now,” Francis smirks as if he knows something Dick and Jason don’t, which he’ll ignore for now. “so run along and see this a warning. Stop corrupting (Name), or this won’t be the last of this.”

“Even without us,” Willow starts, slurring her words a bit. Jason still frozen in shock of what he just did and the fact that Dick didn’t stop him. “they would have ��turned’ against you, you neglectful motherfuckers.”

With that the two they left, not knowing what storm was coming when (Name) comes home.

BAD ENDING 0.1 NEXT PART (main story) As the titel says, it's the beginning of the end! I know it hasn't gotten all too bad yet but from this chapter forward I will be going 2 ways, a bad ending and a good ending. Idk yet how many chapters they will each get, but basically the bad ending means that the batfam gets their preffered ending (with a few hiccups) and the good ending means you'll get an escape ending which will be ‘the main story’ because the good ending takes a different path than the bad ending. And the bad ending is more extreme so I'll make a seperate masterlist for the chapters for that and a seperate taglist.

taglist:@prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

[revelboo]

I see requests for roleplaying for mechs heh, I could possibly request one for Jazz if you haven't done him yet? If you have, then Ironhide or Astrotrain :3

Hope your day is good!

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Roleplay

Jazz

• “Kitten, you have to stop laughing,” he growls, voice a serious rumble even as his mouth twitches with a badly suppressed smile. Grinning up at him, to try to get yourself under control. To play along and let him have his little fantasy. So you try to tug out of his grip, play struggling. And his expression slides back into sly amusement. “Little Decepticon sympathizer,” he says, servos tightening around your wrist. “Tell me where your friends are hiding and I might go easy on you, doll.”

• Kicking at him halfheartedly, you struggle to get loose. Still very obviously fighting a smile, though. But you’re trying for him, letting him run through scenarios with you. Playing along. “Do your worst, Autobot,” you hiss at him, hip bumping into him as you twist trying to break free. Gasping when he spins you and bends you over the edge of your modified berth. Hearing your breath catch and shivering as the scent of your need hits him. “I’m not telling you anything.”

• “That so, kitten?” He whispers in your ear and you’re aware of him, the heat of him against you as he leans over you to pin you. “Maybe I’ll frag it out of you.” Feel his mouth skim your neck and he’s freed his spike, you feel it slide against your hip to beans your skin as his hand slides between your thighs and cups you. “Awful slick for someone who’s not going to talk.” Whimpering, you rock yourself against his palm. Not even caring that you’re supposed to be pretending you don’t want him when you really do.

• “Jazz,” you whine and he clears his vents. Not really surprised you’ve immediately caved. Servos stroking your slick flesh, he shifts to pin your hips better with his own so you can’t just grind against his hand. And the look you shoot him over your shoulder is so annoyed it’s adorable. Smiling when you groan and swear softly, he waits. “I’ll never give you their location,” you growl, eyes narrowing in very real frustration with him.

• “I have my ways, doll,” he murmurs, shifting at your back and you miss the heat of his frame draped against you until you feel him slide his spike against you, there and then gone. Teasing you as his servos press into you, stroking deep to make you gasp before pulling away. Knowing he’s stroking himself, slicking his spike with you. And finally the head of his spike presses against you, stretches you. “You’re going to give me everything,” he snarls, driving deep and bracing himself against you, hips pumping.

• Listening to your needy little noises, he knows you’re not playing anymore. That you only care about the feel of his body claiming yours. And honestly? He can’t mind. Moving urgently against you, he groans. Getting lost in how tight and wet you are wrapped around his spike like you were made just to take him. And he can’t keep up the game either, not while he’s buried inside you, rutting against you. Chasing you to that peak so he can fill you then start all over again. Claim you so throughly you won’t be able to walk in the morning, won’t even want to leave your nest of blankets and pillows, thighs slicked with his release.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Hungry For More

Summary: Joel Miller x fe!Reader -> After being forced to share one kiss, you and Joel can't seem to escape each other.

Disclaimer: MDNI 18+. This contains Smut. Use of swearing, hot make out session, mutual pining, a 'fuck it' kiss, nicknames, random character called Doris who is obsessed with Joel and his ass, kinda a three times this - one time that. Fluff, flirting, longing looks, kinda slow burn. Again, 18+. Not Proof Read.

It had all started one December afternoon as you were helping people set the Bar up for a night of Festive Fun. 

You, along with a dozen other party-prep committee members, had been hauling boxes in and out of the bar for the last three hours. Tommy’s brother, Joel, was running most of the new construction builds inside. You’d passed him by at least half a dozen times until you were both made to stop in the doorway. 

“Ah, stay where you are.” Maria had called out to, apparently, both of you. “Look up.”

You and Joel looked at one another confused before tracing your eyes to what was hanging between you. Who the hell put the mistletoe in the doorway?

“Maria, I’ve got things to do-”

“Yeah, and this box,” you had to adjust it with your knee. The wood from the crate hadn’t been sanded down and was starting to cut into your skin. “It’s heavy.”

Maria shook her head from where she was unfurling string lights. “Nu-uh, bad luck if you don’t.”

“Maria-”

“I’d listen to her if I were you two.” Tommy’s voice said as he rounded the corner. 

People needed to be able to get through the door. There were still sets to be built and things to be prepared. Somewhere in the confusing and frustrated silence, you and Joel seemed to come to an agreement. He’d kiss you on the cheek and you’d both leave it at that in order to get on with the day. 

But Tommy seemed to hear that conversation. 

“And none of that cheek kissing, either. It’s gotta be real.” That was when he came and took the crate out of your hands. “It’ll take that.”

You were thankful for a moment, to be free of the heavy ridges in your hands. But being faced with Joel Miller without a buffer? You started to miss the box. At least it put something between you and Joel. 

“Com- Tommy.”

“No, go on. Kiss my brother and you can move on with your day.”

Joel grumbled. “Tommy, stop giving us shit. We’ve both got work to do.”

Maria shrugged. “If you did less talking and more-”

You grumbled. The longer you stood there, the more awkward it would get. So, quickly, you reached up and pulled Joel into you. 

It was meant to be your first and only kiss with Joel Miller. But something happened when you kissed. Something you couldn’t put words to because, quite frankly, it had never happened before. 

And something in Joel’s eyes told you he felt the wordless feeling, too. 

But you didn’t stall for too long. Letting go of his jacket, you turned to his younger brother. “There. Happy now? Give me that-” You took the crate back from him before rushing down the stairs of the bar. You called behind you. “Tell Doris to move that mistletoe! If people start your shit tonight, no-one’s gonna get inside.”

Tommy slapped his brother on the arm, bringing him out of his unnoticed trace. “You heard the lady.”

Joel’s eyes followed you as you scurried off down the road, clearly going to trade whatever was in your crate for something else in town. But as Tommy stepped past him, Joel grumbled. “She said Doris.”

Tommy shrugged. “You know she’s got a crush on you. She’d only ask you to do it, anyway.”

His brother had a point. Doris wasn’t exactly a woman that hid her feelings from people. Or her hands. 

A few hours, and three near misses of Doris’ wandering hands on the dancefloor, Joel was sitting at one of the tables – alone. With his beer bottle in hand, his gaze somehow found you in the crowd. 

He hadn’t been looking for you. But once he saw you…all he could think about was the kiss. The feel of your lips against his, the clench of your fists against his jacket when he kissed you back, the want in him to drop his tools and reach out for you. 

But it couldn’t happen again. It was just his brother and his wife giving you both shit – it wasn’t meant to mean anything other than an escape to be able to get on with the day. 

Right?

You’d sworn to yourself; that no matter how many times you thought about it, or it replayed in your head without permission, or you dreamt of him – nothing. Absolutely nothing could happen between you and Joel Miller…again. 

That kiss by the door had been nothing more than a show. Something for shits and giggles between Tommy and Maria. And it wasn’t like you and Joel saw each other that much. At most, you worked together a few times out of the year. 

That was it. 

You saw more of Maria and Tommy than you did of Joel. 

But that all changed in the week from Christmas Day to New Years. 

Somehow, within the space of seven days, you’d seen Joel Miller more times than you had ever seen him. After an inspection was done on the empty house beside you, wood rot was found. Joel was sent over first thing in the morning to fix the porch. 

He’d finished within two days. 

But then, with left-over party stuff from the Festive Fun night, the town decided it was time to start setting up for New Years. So, along with Joel, you were pulled in to help set everything up. And with Doris out with a cold, you were left in charge. 

Which meant talking with Joel over smaller construction plans on where the stage should be set, what needed hanging and nailing back in, and what needed taking down. 

Joel had rolled out the blueprints onto the table in front of you before pointing out the different sections that could be done that day. And for the most part, you managed to remain professional. Save for the part where you had to maintain eye-contact with him. 

Because every time you did, only one thing flashed through your mind. 

That kiss. 

The feel of his lips kissing yours, the thought of what else he’d be able to do with them…

You had to look away and clear your throat. “You decide. If it’s a danger, fix it now. If it can wait till Summer…leave it till then.”

Joel smiled as he rolled the prints back up. “You know, you’re a lot more efficient than Doris. A lot less handsy, too.”

For a moment, your gaze locked with Joel’s. You looked away, trying your best to laugh away the heat from your face. Don’t count your luck just yet, Miller. You don’t know the kinds of dreams a girl can have after you kiss her once.

“She just likes you.”

“Likes me or likes my ass?” Joel mumbled just loud enough for you to hear.

“It is a nice ass,” You agreed and he just looked at you, a glint in his eyes and a curve against his mouth. 

“You tryna’ flirt with me, Y/n?” 

The way. He said. Your name. 

You managed to roll your eyes and pushed the second roll of blueprints into his chest. “Just get to work, Miller.”

Joel caught the prints before you walked away. “If you really need someone to watch you while you work, I’m sure Doris will be more than happy to know you miss her!”

Joel caught himself more than once watching you from across the room. The way you moved, the way you talked, the way you laughed and the way you smiled. He could have watched you all day. But at one point, he considered he was bordering on ‘The Doris Line’ so he forced himself to focus on the hammer and nail in his hand before he wrapped the string lights around it and moved onto the next one. 

By the time New Years was in full swing, however, he found himself looking for you constantly. 

Your eyes landed on Joel the minute you walked through the door. How could they not? He was standing at the bar, leaning against the wooden top, smiling as he listened to Tommy tell him a story like he was unaware of how tight his  jeans hugged his ass enough for you to know Doris had definitely reached out more than once to grab him. 

However, just before you stepped in his direction, Jesse’s voice sounded behind you. 

“Dance with me,” he sounded desperate. “Please. Before I get ambushed into another square dance.”

You and Jesse worked on patrol together every now and again. He was a good guy. He and Dina were back on again, but since she and Ellie were off to the side of the dancefloor, you put two and two together why he was asking you. 

His hand was on your back, two stepping you both across the wooden floor. “I swear, if I get asked to teach another person to dance in here, I’m gonna lose my feet.”

“Luckily for you, I know a few people in this town who can sew.”

Jesse gave a mocking laugh. “Very funny.”

You smiled. “Why not ask Dina to dance?”

Jesse smiled and looked over at his girlfriend. “She’s having more fun with Ellie right now. Know who you’re kissing at midnight?”

You shrugged. “Figured I’d be in bed by then.”

“What? Oh, come on. You helped put most of this together. You have to stay.”

Your gaze narrowed. “Is this your way of asking me to be on the clean up crew instead of you?”

You knew him too well. He was a good guy, but he and Dina were also very much in the ‘honeymoon’ stage despite being on their second make-up of the year. 

“No,” Jesse tried to lie. 

You sighed. “Go and be with your girlfriend then.”

Jesse leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Thank you. And thank you for saving my feet for ten minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

A few hours later, you were sitting at the bar, nursing a single of whatever strong New Years theme smoky drink Tommy had whipped up for the evening. 

“Sure you’re gonna make it to midnight?” Joel’s voice asked you as he came up behind you. 

You shrugged. “Gotta find a way. I’m cleaning up.”

“I thought Jesse and them were on it.”

“They are, Jesse isn’t.” You smiled. “Him and Dina have plans.”

Joel clicked his tongue. “Kids.” And then, “You know, this place is probably still gonna be busy come morning. You should be able to get a decent night’s sleep.”

You nodded, taking a gulp of your drink. “Maybe. What the hell did he put in this?” 

Joel took the glass from you and took a whiff of the alcohol as you handed it over. It was burning your throat more than the moonshine he’d served you a few years ago. 

It had to be at least six spirits and three different liquors. 

Taking the glass out of your hand, Joel laid his own in replace of it. “Here, this is more normal.”

Joel stood for a moment and dipped under the folding top of the bar. You watched over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of your drink before making a face. “Jesus.”

Tipping it away, he pulled the cork from an unlabeled bottle and poured himself a normal drink. Eventually, you clinked glasses and Joel leaned against the bar top again, this time facing you. 

“How is it?”

“Better. Thank you.”

Joel covered his smile as he took a sip of his drink. And, for a while at least, you both remained there in silence. Watching the room until the other wasn’t looking. 

Before you knew it, it was approaching midnight. 

“You guys ready?” Tommy asked as he walked into the bar, grabbing his terrible concoction. “Twenty seconds away.”

“Tommy-” Joel warned. 

“Oh, come on, brother. You’ve gotta kiss someone at midnight. You too, Y/n.”

“Like who?” You asked before you had time to think about regretting the answer. 

“Each other? You’ve kissed before. Come on, it’s bad luck if you don’t.”

Neither you or Joel had time to argue since the entire town started to count down from ten. 

“Honey!” Tommy called out before making his way over to his wife. 

The air started to feel electric. Hearing Tommy shout at you both once more that it was for luck, you looked at Joel. 

Six. 

Five. 

Four.

“What do we-”

Your eyes became fixed onto Joel’s as he stood tall. Part of you wanted to down the rest of your drink and run, but a bigger part of you wanted to gather the front of his shirt into your fist and pull him closer to you like you’d done by the entrance that day. 

Three. 

Two. 

One. 

Joel beat you to it. 

Reaching out for you, Joel’s calloused hand cupped your jaw and his lips crashed into yours. As your feet balanced on the footrest of the bar, you kissed him back. 

It was another kiss for the history books. And for your dreams. The feeling of his stubble and mustache against your skin, his hand gentle against your face but his lips roughly kissing you. 

This wasn’t just a quick midnight kiss. This was wanting. This was needed. 

Your mind had been conjuring up a thousand different scenarios and feelings in order to let that first kiss play out. And now you have more to add to the story. 

Joel didn’t want to breathe. Breathing would mean he’d have to stop kissing you, and that was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment. He’d been dying for weeks to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin under his fingertips. He never wanted to let you go. 

But he had to. 

As people started whooping and cheering over the New Year, your kiss with Joel broke apart. 

And by the time you got back home and into bed, you couldn’t help but want more. 

However, that want started to get more and more frustrating as the months went by. And it was happening to Joel, too. 

As you started to see him more and more, his eyes constantly found you in a crowd – even when he wasn’t looking for you. As he was starting to be able to tell the difference between you being in the room, and having just left, you were noticing the difference between touch. 

A lot of the construction guys tended to lead you by the arm or your back when manoeuvring around you. But you could tell when it was Joel. His hand by the small of your back, or his voice by your ear whenever he touched your arm to excuse himself around you. 

You wanted his touch to last forever. And it was maddening. It was like he was everywhere but the one place you wanted him. Not that he could be there. There might have been a lot of people in Jackson, but it was also a small town. Gossip and rumours spread quicker than the plague. 

However, that want had to burst at some point. 

And it chose Valentine's Day to do so. 

Joel, once again, had been helping build different items for the dance being put on in the barn. You were helping prep and set the place for people in the town to come and enjoy themselves. And somewhere between trying to ignore each other, only made worse by the fact you could do anything but that, and the constant questions of dates, you found yourself locked in the storage room. 

There were stacks of different equipment around you. Barrels of alcohol, crates of homemade wine and oil, along with other scattered items like text books, library books, magazines, stationary, banners and kindergarten paintings from when the parent-teacher meetings had been held only a few days ago. 

It was just as you were starting to calm yourself from the sight of Joel with a nail between his teeth straddling the top of the ladder, his shirt sleeves rolled and the kisses replaying in your head – someone walked inside, clearly frustrated themselves. 

“What are you doing here?”

Joel turned around quickly. “Jesus. I thought you were-” Joel sighed. “Nevermind. What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.”

“Needed a breather. Your turn.”

“Something similar.”

Neither of you said anything else. You couldn’t. The air was getting too dense as your eyes floated over him. But, as hard as you tried, you couldn’t look away. 

And neither could Joel. 

Surging forward, Joel caught you as you leaned into him and roughly pulled him in to kiss you again. You could feel his hand at the back of your head, holding you closer as his back hit the door. A small groan left him as he did so, but it also grew as he pushed against you. You crashed into one of the fixed storage stations, but Joel still caught you. 

For a moment, you felt his tongue lick at your lips and you easily granted him access to taste you. You hand raked through his hair, gripping it as you reached the base of his skull. 

As Joel’s lips were torn from yours, you looked up through your lashes at him. 

He was drunk on you. The kind of drunk he would never get a hangover with. And he only wanted more. 

But as he leaned in to kiss you again, you both heard footsteps and the turning of the door handle. As quick as lightning, you and Joel removed yourselves from each other and remained behind opposite storage holders. 

“Hey, Joel. We’ve got a slight situation out front-” Ernie. One of the construction men that worked with Joel. 

Joel cleared his throat as he fixed his hair. “What is it?”

“I don’t think there’s a word for it.”

Joel sighed. If Ernie had left, he would have made sure your lips were back on his within seconds. “Alright, I’m coming.”

Ernie hadn’t noticed you, but Joel could still see you. Through the small gap between wine crates, he could see your eyes following him. As he held the door open and Ernie led the way, Joel’s hands traced his lips. 

He could still feel your kiss. 

And within a click of the door, he was gone and you were standing alone; breathless and hungry for more.

Each time you saw Joel after that, the hunger only seemed to grow. No matter how hard you tried, it never subsided. He was on your mind, and if he wasn’t, he was standing barely ten feet from you looking like your last meal.

When you closed your eyes at night, it was like he was still in the room with you. His hands roaming over you, his body dipping into the sheets as he slowly crawled up, his lips softly gracing your skin as he did so. 

Some nights you’d wake and for a split second, you believed it was all real. That he was lay beside you; that your clothes had been bundled somewhere across the room and his sleeping, freshly-fucked frame was trapping you from moving. 

You weren’t alone in your hunger. 

No matter how hard he tried, Joel always seemed to find you. And everytime he did, he could only think of one thing. 

The touch of you. 

Your fingers grasping at his shirt to kiss him, your soft cheek under his calloused palm, your singers in his hair and your lips against his. The things he could have done to you if Ernie hadn’t interrupted. 

Everywhere he seemed to turn, he found you. But as much as he wanted more, he couldn’t. 

Jackson might house more people than a QZ nearby, but it was still a small town. Everyone was in everyone’s business. Being Tommy’s brother, with the past that he had, already made Joel a liability for town gossip. But you and him? Potentially being caught in a less than respectful way in a storage closet? That wasn’t exactly the best idea. For either of you. 

“Mommy says you need to take these to Y/n.” Benji tugged on Joel’s shirt at the bar. 

Joel took the swaddled packets in his hand. “What for?” 

Maria rounded the bar top as Joel helped his nephew onto one of the stools. 

“For trading. This place is gonna be busy in less than ten minutes and it’s gonna take double that to get to her’s.”

“Well,” As much as Joel wanted- needed to see you. He couldn’t. “I could always watch this place-”

Maria shook her head. “Nope. You’re doing it.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. Oh, and drop these-” She placed two bottles of homemade wine onto the counter. “Off to the teachers at the school. It’s now, technically, Spring Break and they deserve it.”

Joel sighed. “Wish me luck, kid.”

Benji laughed as he watched his uncle pick up the two bottles. “Good luck, uncle Joel!”

The luck wasn’t for him facing you. It was for him facing the school. Although Doris worked on the party planning committee, she also happened to work part-time at the local school. 

“Y/n?”

“Joel?” You called back. 

You’d been digging, planting and redistributing your green garden most of the day. So, hearing Joel call out for you was the last thing you’d been expecting. For a second, you thought you’d imagined it until he came walking down the side path and into your back garden. 

You sat back on your heels in the dirt. “Hey.”

Joel smiled. “Hey. Maria, she told me to give you these.”

You stood up quickly. “Oh, thanks.”

Taking them from Joel, you opened them up in front of him. 

“Bulbs?”

You nodded. “For the garden. She told me she found some on patrol, I thought she was kidding.”

“Sure they’re safe?”

You looked at him, but only for a second. You looked away. “Yeah. See here,” you pointed at the roots. “No rot. No rot equals no infected, too.”

Walking away, Joel eventually followed you. Something felt…off. 

“Are you okay?”

Joel sighed and nodded. “She had me go to the school before here. I would have gotten here thirty minutes ago but Doris locked me in her office.”

You felt yourself laugh. “That sounds fun.”

“If you call tripping over a desk chair four times fun, then sure. It was fun.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “She’s not so bad. Hand me that?”

Joel looked to where you were pointing. Joining you on the ground, he handed you the trowel and you started to prepare the ground for the burial of the bulbs. 

“Not so bad? I don’t even remember walking into her office.”

“Maybe you need a bodyguard.”

Joel raised his brow as you took one of the bulbs from the package in his hands. “Is that an offer, darlin’?”

Darlin’. 

The nickname had just slipped out. And as much as Joel felt the need to take it back, he didn’t want to. 

Nicknames didn’t usually work on you when it came to men flirting with you, but there was just something about the way he said it; the way it rolled off his tongue, washed over you and settled so deep into your bones it was almost like it had always been there. 

“And if it was?” You asked, feeling the air around you get heavy. 

Your eyes locked on Joel’s. And it hit you just how close you were kneeling. One simple shift to the right and your thigh would be touching his. Another shift and you’d be able to straddle him where he sat. Something in his eyes told you that, just maybe, he wanted you to do it. 

Before you could move, the egg timer rang out from the kitchen window. 

Joel watched as you practically jumped out of your skin before you lifted yourself from the ground. He knew he should have excused himself, he should have left and kept the damn nickname to himself. But something made him follow you into your kitchen. 

“Everything okay in here?”

“Yeah,” your voice felt foreign to you as you pulled the pie from the oven. You closed the door. “Just the pie I made.”

Joel appeared beside you. 

“I had extra-” you made the mistake of looking at him. You were breathless. “Fruit and thought…” Your eyes searched Joel’s. 

You were starving. 

And it wasn’t for the pie. 

Your hands were on him within seconds and his fingers gripped at your hips. His kiss, again, was rough against yours. And you only wanted more. 

The first squeeze of your hips was slow. But reality came crashing over Joel for a split second. 

“Wait-” He kissed you again. “Wait-”

You slowed down, but he didn’t want to. He was fighting a losing battle. 

“We shouldn’t…” Another kiss. “We shouldn’t be doing-” Another kiss. “This.”

Pulling your lips from his, you shook your head. “Just shut the fuck up and kiss me, Miller.”

He did more than that. 

Pushing a hand past your cheek and through your hair, he tilted your head. Like in the storage room, he licked at your lip and you granted him access. A groan rippled through his chest as he tasted you again. 

Slowly, he moved you back until you hit your dining table. 

As your fingers popped open a few of the buttons on his shirt, running your nails around his side and down his back, Joel angled your head to allow him access to your soft skin. Your breathing grew heavier as he nipped at your jaw and slowly moved down the column of your neck. 

Finally finding your pulse point, his teeth grazed at your skin before he dampened the sting with his tongue. You moaned, moving yourself to the edge of the table. 

Joel noticed, however. His knee pushed your legs apart just enough for him to slot one between them. 

Leaning back as Joel’s mouth got lower on your body, you were thankful for wearing a dress. It meant less fabric between you and Joel. And more skin for him to brand as his own. 

Pulling him to kiss you again, Joel’s hands floated down your body, pulling you closer to him by your ribcage. Then his knee shifted. 

You moaned. 

Joel flashed you a wicked grin as he tore his kiss from you. Then he looked down to the hem of your dress. He took his time, caressing your thigh, watching the fabric slowly move further up, only exposing more of you. 

“Tell me you want this?”

Joel’s gaze fell on yours and you nodded. “I want this.”

The kiss that followed was…softer. More vulnerable. But only for a few moments. As the vulnerability disappeared, confidence seemed to grow in its place. 

You could feel his palm sliding up your inner thigh, until finally his fingers traced the seam of your panties. 

You sat up, feeling Joel’s voice by the shell of your ear. You held onto his arm for balance. 

“So fucking wet already,” his voice rumbled before you felt his fingers begin to tease you through the cotton fabric. 

A breathy moan escaped you as he swiped his thumb across your clit, the fabric adding extra friction. 

He was teasing you. Slowly, careful, deliberately. 

Your hips bucked and you heard Joel’s cocky laugher beside you. “You like that, darlin’?”

There was that fucking nickname again. 

You’d never be able to dream again without hearing him ask you that. 

“Do you want more?”

You moaned before swallowing, your breathing picking up pace. Joel’s lips kissed your ear before he slowly moved down, his teeth nipping at your semi-bare shoulder. “Words, darlin’. Use your words.”

You would if you could. 

It came out quiet at first. “Yes.” You swallowed again, “God, yes.”

“Good girl,” Joel smiled before you felt him move your panties to the side. 

Finally, he slipped one finger, then two, inside of you. Pumping tantalisingly slow before curling up inside of you, you gripped his arm tighter. 

“Fuck- fuck.”

Joel’s breathing grew heavier as he felt you slowly pulse around him. He’d dreamt of this – more than once. But, fuck- 

The reality was so much better. 

“You feel so good. So fucking good.”

Joel had to close his eyes before he came in his pants. He planned on lasting a lot longer than a dream sequence. 

Feeling you pulse around him, your moan was swallowed by his kiss as he tasted you again. And just as he had you on the edge, he pulled away. 

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, feeling him pull away from you. You were so close. Before you could question why, you watched Joel lower himself onto his knees. A wicked glint in his eyes, you watched as he licked his lips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table. 

You felt his nose rub against your clit. Your hips bucked and barely a second later, you heard his deep chuckle that vibrated against your pussy. 

“Fucking tease.”

You could hear the smirk on his face. “Only for you, baby.”

You didn’t have time to think about the second nickname because his tongue started to lick at your opening. Between the feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit, his facial hair applying a delicious friction against your sensitive skin and his tongue; you were losing your mind. 

But you weren’t going to let him stop. Not this time. 

Joel felt your fingers push through his hair as he lapped up the taste of you. And you were heavenly. 

Your hips bucked against him as your moans became more frequent and your breathing became rushed. You gasped, “Joel- I’m-” A pleasured moan escaped you once more. 

And just as his dick was straining hard against his jeans, he tasted you as you came on his tongue. 

“Fuck. Yes. Yes, baby. Fuck…”

You could feel his warm breath against your pussy before his mouth slowly trailed up your body. First under your dress, before over, Joel’s kiss landed against the bow of your breast where he gently pulled the fabric down, exposing you to him. 

He was slow, circling his tongue over your raised nipple. Nipping and biting at the soft flesh around it, you tried to catch your breath long enough for you to register the feeling of his cock pushing against your stomach through his jeans. 

“Are you going to let me take care of that?”

Joel looked down between you both. His breathing was laboured as he looked back at you. “Later. Right now, I wanna feel you cum on cock. Think you’re ready for that, darlin?”

Despite your sensitive clit, you swallowed thickly and nodded. You were hungry for more. More orgasms and More Joel. 

“Remember, darlin. Words.”

“Yes.” 

As you leaned up and kissed Joel, your hand grazed down his stomach before reaching the belt buckle of his jeans. Palming him through the fabric of his underwear, you gave him a taste of his own medicine before slipping your hand under his waistband. 

Joel bucked into you. “Shit, baby.”

You smirked, kissing his neck. “Like that?”

A soft chuckle left Joel before he closed his eyes, feeling you run your nails down his length before pumping him slowly. 

But you couldn’t last as long as Joel once he nodded. 

“I need to feel you, Joel.” Your voice was soft, and low, as you spoke to him. You sounded desperate, but you didn’t care. You were aching for him and the only cure was him. 

Positioning yourself on the edge once more, you felt Joel stretch you out as he dipped his tip in. You took him inch, by inch, by inch, until you were stuffed full of him. 

“Too fucking good.” Joel sounded drunk on you. 

And he was. 

The feeling of you tightening around him, pulling him in, was getting to be too much. Slowly, he inched himself out before pumping back into you. You lifted your hips, gripping onto his shoulder and the tabletop as he held you securely in place. 

You gasped, “Joel-” A moan left you once more. 

Joel groaned as he watched your juices coat his cock, slipping in and out of you. He swore before leaning closer to you, his kiss rough against your mouth. His lips trailed down the length of your neck before he sucked at your neck again, his pace picking up. 

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you were chanting his name as you started to pulse around him. 

There was no other feeling like it. 

Laying you down, he fucked you into the table as his tongue swirled around your exposed breasts. Your nails scraped down his back, mostly likely leaving a mark. But he didn’t care. He’d been drunk on you long before he’d fucked you. 

“That’s it, baby. Keep going.” Joel’s voice was beginning to slur. “Taking me so well.”

Another moan, your hips bucked into his as he pushed his dick further inside of you. His tongue was driving you wild. 

“Joel, Joel. Fuck,” You hips moved with his. “I’m…I’m gonna- ahh.” 

Feeling you cum on his cock was enough to break his own dam. For a few minutes after, Joel watched as your juices swirled with his and slowly dripped out of your pussy and back onto his cock. 

But the sight of you beneath him, freshly-fucked and so fucking beautiful. That was the sight that would never leave him. 

He could be full, but he’d always be hungry; For the sight right in front of him. For the feeling of you around his cock. For the feeling of your fingers against his skin. For your lips against his. 

He’d always be hungry for you. 

[tojisteddy]

how would Simon react if you safeworded out?

would he be gruff but still sweet and soft and apologetic? would he fuss over you or play it cool while taking care of you? (“oh, lovey im so sorry…” or “its alright, thank you for telling me, i wont push you so far next time, kiddo…”)

why would blackcat!reader safeword out? stress? just not feeling it? maybe emotional?

I think there are two things in this world that Simon Riley is (and always will be) very serious about and that’s aftercare and your safety.

Like yeah he’s an asshole and gruff guy but when it comes to you, he really is a big softie at heart. So when he tells you off when you get back after not texting him back all night or gently making sure you walk on the inside of the street when your with him, it’s for good reason, he’s showing he cares. He loves you to pieces. Will do any and everything for you. So if he’s pushed too far, he makes mental note of it. And if he wants to push that far again, he’ll end up doing a check. Making sure you know your safeword, or right before he knows you’ll ‘give’ he’ll tap you out himself.

So when he hears you say the safeword, he doesn’t hesitate. He knows the first thing you need is comfort and reassurance. So he pulls out, and holds you in his big arms. Kisses you all over while you cry, getting you to calm down and listen to his words because he means them, truly.

“Simon was too mean, yeah? I Shouldn’t ‘ve pushed you like that, doll.”

“Dad’s sorry kitty, you were perfect, did everything I said so well. Always so good f’me.”

And if you refute his words, too in your own head, he’ll hold you just a little tighter. So you can hear his heartbeat, rocking you in his arms,

“You’ll never be the one at fault baby, ‘ts on me. My job to watch over you, right kiddo? Thanks for tellin me Princess, love you so much.”

Blackcat!reader would safeword out from stress or better yet, Simon just instinctively knows you’re off. Sad to say but I think blackcat!reader has been through a shit ton and can be pushed (and has found comfort in Simon pushing you to the limit). You’re the type to hold shit in like a tower until someone knocks it all over. let’s say a day where the cards just were not in your favor. It was terrible day at work and both of your dogs were acting up when you got home and you yelled at Simon, like really yelled at him (which is something neither of you do). Simon would be 10 spanks to thirty and either you grip at shirt and tell him you ‘give’ already sniffling or he notices you’re not crying. You’re just trembling, taking everything he’s giving you. And Simon will sit up you, ask you what’s wrong and then the dam in your eyes just breaks.

Choking on your own sobs,

“Pa I- I-“ boo-hoo, snot everywhere, clutching onto him, balling your eyes out till their puffy.

Simon doesn’t hesitate to pick you up, he lets out a soft sigh in his head because he hates to see you like this. And he hated that he always has to be the one to push you to cry (of all people). But he’s working on it, working on getting you to communicate and doing so makes him want to get better at communicating for himself too. He wants to be his best for you.

He coos, “Let’s give the princess a bath, hm kitten? Gonna get ya nice ‘nd clean ‘nd then get you in bed with that little Sanrio rabbit. Then we can talk tomorrow.”

You nod, taking a shaky breath followed by a hiccup. You manage to squeak out a ‘sorry’ halfway through the bath, and that’s when Simon gets playful, he boop your nose or tickles right under your chin making you squirm.

“What’s there to apologize for? Used your safeword like the big girl I know you are. Couldn’t be more proud ‘f you honey.”

He’ll nibble at your jaw and rest his head atop of yours while he rubs your back after getting you in bed.

“Just a bad day gorgeous, you’re not bad. Tomorrow’ll be better.”

a/n: I think crybaby, feenin & a little comfort are like prime examples too. Thank you so much for asking anon!!! I fuckin love with ppl ask questions!!

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @bruisedfig @tessakate @sevikasblackgf @mocha-the-muse @nightfwn @mims900

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[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[6:08 pm]

(cw: f!reader, profanity, set pre-official relationship)

a/n: no Ari hate will be accepted, she's still bestie

Tonight, you'd planned to spend a nice night in your dorm. You'd catch up on your shows, do a face mask, maybe a hair mask, hell, maybe you'd even read the book you've been telling yourself you're going to read for weeks now. Most evenings in your dorm were spent doing homework or hanging out with your roommate, Ari. You weren't opposed to that, not at all. Ari had become one of your best friends since you started living together. It was just that sometimes, you missed your alone time and this weekend she was planning a trip home. It was going to be perfect.

Fratboy!Jaehyun had been nice enough to walk you to your dorm, all the way to your door even. Your steps slowed as you caught sight of your own duffel bag set beside the door. You hadn't done that earlier. You tried not to let your confusion show and smiled at Jaehyun, "thanks for walking me back. Have a good night."

"No problem," Jaehyun smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he starts strolling down the hall toward the elevators.

You push open your door with your brows furrowed in confusion. Ari is sitting at her desk with music playing way too loudly as she sings along while doing her makeup. You stomp over and pause her music, "hello? Do you want to tell me why there's a bag of my stuff out in the hallway?"

"I have a date tonight! I might bring her back so you should find somewhere else to stay tonight," Ari smiles brightly.

"You couldn't text me about it? You know, get permission or give me a heads up before I just got here and saw my stuff out in the hall," you ask with a shake of your head.

"Oh my gosh, Sweets! Don't be bitch about this! It's one night!" Ari shouts back in return.

Jaehyun, who was nearly at the elevators, freezes. That can't be you Sweets being called a bitch right? He stays there for a second, straining his ear to see if he can hear anything else.

"What the hell, Ari?! I just asked you to give me a heads up! You could have at least let me know that you were actually going to stay for the weekend and needed the room! Is asking for a heads up that big of a deal?!" Comes your voice, now more high pitched and distressed.

Jaehyun's closer to your door now, listening in closely. He can hear Ari sigh, "whatever. You're being really stuck up right now and honestly, a little bitchy."

You scoff, "whatever to you Ari. I expect a nice apology when I come back. Especially because even though you're being rude right now, I'm still giving you the room!"

The door slams open and Jaehyun has to jump back to avoid being barreled over as you stomp out of the room. You're sniffling as the door shuts, grabbing your bag with one hand and fiddling with your phone with the other.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Jaehyun speaks up slowly and softly, "you good?"

You use the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear, "yeah, I'm fine. I'm just going to have a sleepover with Kira tonight, yay."

He bites the inside of his lip, reaching out to rub a comforting hand up and down your back, "Sweetheart, didn't you say she had an overnight trip for one of her classes this weekend?"

"Shit," you breathe out as you try to stop yourself from panicking, "yeah, I did say that."

"Hey, it's alright. You can spend the night with me!" Jaehyun offers before his brain even processes his own words.

Your breath catches as you look at him skeptically, "are- are you sure?"

"Yeah, we can grab some dinner and then head over. My room is clean, I promise," he smiles reassuringly.

The look on your face is still quizzical. You were in his room recently and you would barely classify it as clean. You let him take your hand anyway and lead you to one of your go to restaurants not too far from the frat house.

You both sit down after placing your orders. You're preoccupied with your phone as you rant to Kira over text. Jaehyun is also preoccupied with some texts. Panicked texts.

'Bros, I will be on cleaning duty after parties for a month. I need you guys to clean the bathroom upstairs and my room. Please.'

Jaehyun rolls his eyes as he reads Haechan's text, 'what's in it for me?'

His fingers are quick to type out a response, 'I don't have time for this!!! Sweets is spending the night and my shit is a mess!'

He feels relieved when he reads Doyoung's text, 'Taeyong and I are already cleaning your room. Johnny and Jungwoo are cleaning the bathroom. Yuta, Mark, and Haehcan are cleaning up downstairs. ETA?'

God, Jaehyun could kiss Doyoung! He smiles at his phone, tapping out a response, 'I could stretch dinner out to abt 45 mins?'

There's a flood of thumbs up reactions to his text and all of a sudden, all the weight on his shoulders is lifted. He's going to owe his brothers a whole lot more than just party clean up duty for this. It's your first time spending the night with him, he wants you to have a good experience. You wouldn't be the first girl to spend the night, but he's feeling super nervous for some reason. Nervous in a way that he'd never felt before.

An hour later, his theory is proven correct. His room is even clearer than the first week he lived in it. The whole house smells clean, there are new sheets on his bed that he's never seen, a new throw pillow on his bed, no laundry on his floor. A peek into the bathroom reveals the complete absence of water stains on the mirror, the stench of pee, and no ring around the toilet. There's even a packaged up toothbrush and a towel waiting for you on the counter.

You look around his room appreciatively, "your room is much nicer when it's clean."

Jaehyun shrugs nonchalantly, walking over to his dresser, "I guess you've just caught me on bad days. Here, I don't know if Ari packed you pajamas or if you had time to get stuff before you left, so you can borrow some of my clothes. If you want to, of course."

You honestly hadn't even looked into your bag, didn't even think about it. You gingerly take the clothes from Jaehyun's hand with a shy smile and an even more shy 'thanks' before you pop out to the bathroom to change.

The second he hears the door click shut, he's scrambling around his room and changing into his own pajamas in a panic. He normally just sleeps in his boxers, but would that be too bold for you? Would it put the wrong idea in your head? Would he look like a douche like he was trying to take advantage of you while you were vulnerable?

He shakes his head with a shaky exhale, choosing a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts instead of his usual lack of sleep attire. He doesn't get a chance to overthink any longer as you step back into the room. His breath catches and he has to remind himself to breathe as he takes in the glorious sight of you in his t-shirt.

You drop your duffel bag against the wall and turn to Jaehyun, "the basketball shorts you gave me didn't fit, but I guess it's pretty lucky that Ari packed me some sleep shorts."

"Yeah, lucky..." Jaehyun breaths out, forcing his eyes to stay on your face and not the enticing view of your bare legs or the sight of you in his t-shirt. His t-shirt that does a pretty good job of covering up your shorts.

He shakes his head and blinks a few times, "I figured we could have a movie night. I don't have face masks or hair masks like you planned, but we can watch whatever you want so you can still relax. Then we'll go to bed and I'll leave you my bed."

Your face turns into one of adorable confusion, "why would you leave me your bed?"

"So you can be comfortable! I'll sleep on the couch or the couch or one of the other guy's rooms."

You giggle softly, Jaehyun's heart skips a beat, "I'm comfortable around you. Plus, this is your bed. I'm cool with sharing if you are."

"Yeah," he nods way too many times, "yeah, let's share. If you're absolutely sure." Your only response is a laugh and a tug to his arm so you're both on his bed now.

Jaehyun never thought that his room in the frat house was uncomfortable, but as he falls asleep with your head on his chest, he doesn't think he ever even knew true comfort. Your body fits perfectly with his own, your steady breathing is the perfect lullaby, and he falls asleep faster than he ever has before. He doesn't want you and your friends to get into fights, but he does want you to spend the night more. He just hopes he'll have the guts to invite you next time.

[romancherry]

the bratty chronicles #1: how my swollen ankle earned me a spanking

pairings ➝ joel miller x female!reader

summary ➝ joel punishes you because you went on patrol with a swollen ankle.

warnings ➝ explicit smut, unprotected vaginal sex, brat taming, edging, manhandling, spanking as a form of punishment, daddy kink, dominant & brat tamer!joel, submissive & brat!reader, begging, rough sex, squirt, creampie, aftercare, praise, a bit of degradation, pet names, dirty talk, explicit language and swearing, 18+, MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT.

word count ➝ 4k

author's note ➝ hello everyone! i am doing everything but update caged in silk oops. i'm sorry but i'm in my bratty girl era and i really think joel is the best person to put someone in their place so i needed to get this out of my system and on your screens. if you enjoyed then PLEASE leave a comment or a reblog with your opinions!! they motivate me so much 🌸

do NOT repost, reupload, translate or plagiarize my work.

"where the hell you been?"

your boots had barely hit the floor with mud still caked up your calves from the patrol you weren't supposed to be on.

you open your mouth to give some smartass response, but joel's already crossing the room, arms crossed over his broad chest, jaw ticking with that kind of restrained fury that makes your stomach twist with guilt and excitement at the same time.

"i told you no. i told you your ankle ain't ready. and what do you do? sneak off like some reckless little brat, thinkin' you know better than me."

you scoff, trying to hold your ground. "i handled it just fine. you're overreacting."

joel steps closer, towering over you, heat radiating off him like a furnace. "that so? you limpin' says otherwise. you think fine means draggin' yourself back home after dark with a busted ankle and no radio?"

he grabs your chin, but not rough, just firm enough to make you look at him.

"you wanna act like a mouthy brat, fine. but brats get tamed, sweetheart. you wanna play that game with me, i promise you — i'll remind you exactly who you belong to and why you listen when i give you an order."

your breat catches. defiant fire still flickers in your eyes even as your body betrays you: tighs pressing together, mouth watering, pulse racing.

joel's mouth curves into a knowing, dark smirk.

"thought so."

he drags the chair from the table and sits, legs spread. the perfect picture of calm authority.

"come here."

you hesitate. just a flicker. but that's all he needs. his brow lifts.

"now."

you move forward. ankle aching. pride wounded deeper.

he hooks a finger into the waistband of your pants and tugs you over his knee like it's the most natural thing in the world.

like this is routine. like you've earned it.

except — it is routine and you do deserve it. you've been a brat your entire life. joel took you as you are and made it his problem and mission to deal with you. conquer you. cage you.

it never worked.

"you wanna disobey? wanna put yourself in danger like a damn fool? then you take your consequences like a big girl too."

your pants come down humiliatingly slow and cool air hits your skin. you squirm, but joel's gand presses firmly on your back.

"uh-uh. you don't move. you don't speak, unless i tell you to."

the first smack is sharp. nothing soft about it. not with the anger still simmering beneath his skin. each hit lands with purpose. doesn't matter when they start to sting, burn, make your eyes water. you're supposed to take them like a good girl.

"you think it's cute sneakin' off?" smack.

"you could've gotten killed," smack.

"you don't get to scare me like that, baby,"

smack. smack. smack.

an eternity and a couple more brutal hits later, your body has molded into a puddle and your fire dulled. your voice reduced to a soft, breathy mess of apology and guilt.

your thighs are trembling. he slides a hand between them, fingers finding you embarassingly slick.

"told you. brats get tamed."

then he drags you up and makes you straddle his lap, your sore ass pressing against his jeans while he kisses your neck soft and grounding. you don't miss the fact that he is rock hard in his pants. the thought makes you chuckle internally. what a perveted old man.

"you don't do that again," he murmurs, voice so rough against your ear it pulled you out of your naughty thoughts. "you listen to me next time. or else, i won't be this gentle."

he holds you against him, your body squirming in his lap. every breath is a struggle between wanting to truly melt into him and cry out or not give him a moment of peace and tease him until he fucks you so hard you won't sit for a week.

"shh," he murmurs, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. "you're alright now. gotcha."

his fingers glide through the mess he's already made of your pussy.

"you feel that? how wet you are from gettin' put in your place?"

you whimper, hips rocking instinctively, chasing more.

he stills you with one arm around your waist.

"no," he presses a kiss just below your jaw, slow and maddening. "you wanna act like a grown woman out there, takin' stupid risks? then you're gonna learn what it means to ask for what you need."

his fingers move again — soft, deliberate strokes that stop just when they get too good.

you try everything to make him get the hint. you whimper, shudder, pant.

he shushes you gently.

"tell me, baby, what do you need?"

your voice is thin, wrecked.

"need you, joel... please..."

he groans softly, lips ghosting over your ear.

"yeah? you need me to make you cum? after all that trouble you caused?"

you nod fast, pressing your face into his neck.

but he doesn't give in. not yet. instead, he circles your clit with agonizing care. over and over, just enough pressure to drive you over the edge — then pulls back every time your thighs start to shake and your hole clenches around nothing, desperate for release.

"not yet," he whispers, watching you fall apart. "you don't cum until i say so. you don't take anything from me — you earn it."

you're crying into his shirt by the fourth time he drags you back from the brink.

whimpering, begging, trembling in his grip. like the fool he's made of you just to teach you a lesson. he knows it never gets him anywhere. you just go back to your usual behaviour, never really learning your lesson. so why bother? maybe he enjoys this too. you want warmth and he's here to put the fire down and instead hold you in his arms and give you his jacket.

he tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. his pupils dilate at how dazed, dizzy and desperate you look right now.

"you need me, baby? then prove it. hold on a little longer. take it for me."

your body's gone soft in his arms, with the occasional uncontrollable twitches and turns from the pain of the overstimulation. joel's working you like a goddamn instrument, bringing you up and dragging you back down.

"look at you," he breathes, voice rough with control. "all that attitude gone now, huh? just a needy little thing in my lap."

his fingers are soaked because of you. pressing but never enough, never where you really need him. every time you start to climb again, he pulls back.

you sob, burying your face in his throat, fingers clawing at his shirt.

"please, joel, daddy — p-please, i c-can't..."

he stills completely. one big hand slides into your hair, fisting it to tilt your face up.

he kisses you then. for the first time tonight. slow, possessive, overwhelming. and you melt into it, whimpering against his mouth, letting him take the control he needs and have dominion over you. make love to your mouth and have his sweet velvety tongue dance with your own one full of venom and not have them kill each other but rather live in harmony. build up the butterflies in your belly and the fog in your brain.

his fingers push inside your hole just enough to make your breath catch. you clench around him desperately, afraid to let go.

"you want more?" he asks, low and dangerous. "want me to fuck that brat right outta you?"

"yes!" you whisper enthusiastically, absolutely wrecked. "please, daddy, need you!"

he groans like it physically hurts him to wait any longer and in one swift motion he shifts you, drags his jeans down along with his boxers and lines himself up. slides in deep, slow, heavy. stretching you so good you gasp.

"theeere you go," he rasps, burying himself to the hilt. "that what you needed, baby? hm?"

you can't even speak. just nod and grip his shoulders, whole body shaking from long he's made you wait.

joel stills inside you, chest pressed to yours. "you come when i say. you come without permission? we start all over. understand?"

you nod again. eyes wide, every muscle taut with need.

"good," he growls. and then he starts to move. deep and fucking delicious, every thrust dragging another few desperate moans from your throat as he finally gives your poor pussy what she's been craving. your nails are digging into his shoulders like it's the only thing keeping you tethered to earth.

joel's voice is low and steady even as he drives you towards the edge again.

"that's it, sweetheart. you're takin' me so damn well. didn't think you had it in you to behave."

your body tenses again with that familiar heat flooding through you. you're so, so close.

his hand slips between your bodies, thumb finding your clit, rubbing soft circles. your hips buck on instinct and he catches your chin in the other hand, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"fuckin' look at me. wanna see your pretty face, babygirl."

"please, pleaaaase, joel, i—"

"i know. you've earned it, i know."

his pace picks up deeper and harder, fucking into you like a man with purpose, your pussy walls trying to milk him for all he's worth.

"cum for me, babygirl. let me feel it. let go."

your body breaks — hips jerking, legs trembling, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you fall apart around him with a strangled cry. the orgasm crashes over you, so overwhelming your vision goes white as your pussy pulses frantically around his cock, clenching tight and soaking him so much your squirt reaches his belly.

joel groans, the sound torn from his chest. "that's it. that's my girl."

he doesn't stop. he fucks you through it to chase his own release now. his thrusts get sloppy, desperate, and then he buries himself deep into your cervix and spills inside you as he holds you so tight it borders on possessive.

for a long moment, there's only the sound of breath and heartbeat thundering in your ears. and the addicting feel of skin on skin contact as your flushed sweaty bodies lay on top of each other.

then joel pulls you close and kisses your forehead with one hand stroking your hair as your body still twitches with aftershocks.

"you're alright," he whispers. "i got you. you're safe now."

you nod against him, boneless and wrecked. held. owned.

your limbs are limp, muscles shaky and brain foggy in that sweet flowty haze he's so good at pulling you into. joel carries you like it's nothing with one arm under your thighs and the other cradling your back, his nose brushing your temple.

"you really wore yourself out, huh?" he murmurs, voice softer now. "stubborn thing."

he takes you to the bathroom and eases you down onto the closer toiled seat while he runs the water in the tub. you watch him move, still dizzy, barely holding yourself upright. he glances over and smiles.

"you stay with me, baby," he says, kneeling in front of you to tug your ruined clothes off the rest of the way. "you did good. took it real well. just gotta get you cleaned up."

once the tub is ready, he lifts you in. he sits on the edge, rolls up his sleeves and grabs a washcloth.

his hands are on you slow and careful. he doesn't speak for a while and just runs the cloth over your skin, treating you like the precious little spoiled princess you are. rinses away the sweat, slick and mess he made of you.

every now and then, his fingers linger. on your hips, thighs, breasts. not to start anything new, just... grouding you. really feeling you. keep you safe under his touch.

but when he takes your swollen ankle in his hand, the tenderness shifts.

"look at this," he mutters. not angry, just tired, worried and a bit dissapointed. "already swollen again. damn near black and blue."

you mumble a weak apology, but joel shushes you gently.

"nuh-uh. don't you do that. you scared me today, runnin' off like that. coulda twisted it worse, or gotten jumped out there, and no one woulda known where the hell you are."

he props your foot on a folded towel, eyes on your ankle as he presses around it with expert hands.

"you think i like punishin' you like that? think i wanna hurt you? i'd rather you just listen when i tell you somethin's not safe."

"i didn't mean to worry you..."

"i know you didn't," he sighs, pulling a small ice pack from the cabinet nearby. "but i need you to trust me i ain't bossin' you around just for the hell of it. i protect what's mine. and that means you, sweetheart."

those words land heavy in your chest and make your heart throb a little. what might've been a reckless decision made out of hopelessness for you really took a hard hit on him. made him worry real bad and actually try to teach you more than just a lesson and act on a punishment. he was trying to make you understand just how hard it would be for him if you'd gotten seriously hurt or even worse.

"thank you, joel," you say gratefully as you hold his hand a little tighter with a soft smile on your lips and a dangerous tear hanging on by your lower lashline threatening to fall out.

joel wraps the ice pack gently around your ankle and anchors it with a bandage. then he leans in and brushes damp hair from your forehead.

he smiles too. more of a contained smirk, but he can feel how grateful and serious you are. "you're welcome, sweetheart. you're gonna rest. stay off that foot. i'll carry you if i have to."

"you like carrying me anyway."

"damn right i do."

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Can someone some write a short about how one of the women juke joints heard Stack address them as " field bitches" and she put out a switch blade on and threat Stack to repeat that again. Making Stack apologize for shit that comes out of his mouth. I'm still mad over that. 😭😭💀💀

“Do I gotta get one of these field bitches to drag ya’ ass outta here, Mary?!”

Donna and her group of gals almost choked on their corn liquor.

Delta Slim playing a catchy tune on them keys was the last thing on her mind AND her friends mind.

“You taught me how to fight! I’ll beat any bitch in here and you know it!”

“Ah, hell nah,” Donna shoved her mug of corn liquor into one of her friends hand, “Hold my drank. This disrespectful, nigga—”

“Donna!”

“Donna, don’t go over there!”

“That’s Stack! You gon’ get us put out!”

Her gals rushed behind Donna and when they saw her reach into the pocket of her floral lapel dress and it came up shining.

A switch blade.

They each shared horrifying looks.

“HEY! STACK!”

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore snapped his eyes towards Donna’s direction. Other’s watched, some women glaring at Stack and turning their noses up at him.

“Can I help you, Darling—aye now!”

Donna pressed her blade against Stack’s neck.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU DOIN?”

Mary, Stack’s disrespectful white girl, ushered forward, attempting to settle the situation.

“Put the blade away—”

“I ain’t talking to you, little girl. Mind yo’ business.”

Mary was ready to get up in Donna’s face, but Stack pushed her away.

“I’ll handle this, go on, Mary,” Stack gave her a warning look, “Don’t do nothin’ stupid.”

“If she know what’s good for her,” Donna argued with a death glare.

Mary moved back towards Sammie and Annie who came over to see what was happening.

Donna turned her sharp gaze onto Stack again.

“Field bitches?”

Stack’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath his fedora. He started moving his full lips like a fish out of water.

“Ain’t got shit to say now? How dare you stand up here and disrespect us like that? Over some ol’ white girl? You forget where you come from, nigga?”

Mmmhmmm

That’s right!

Tell ‘em!

“Say it again. Go on. Do it.”

Stack’s eyes bounced back and forth between her and that sharp ass weapon. His Adam’s Apple bobbed and a trickle of sweat rolled down his temple. His fingers itched to snatch her ass up, but that wouldn’t do any good.

“WELL? whatcha got to say for yourself?!” Donna pressed angrily.

Stack licked his lips, “I��I–Listen, now,” Stack put one hand up and the other on his chest, turning on the charm, “Put the blade away, aight? I ain’t mean to be—OKAY.”

Donna scowled at Stack while her blade moved along his throat.

“You think cuz you went up to Chicago and got a taste of the big city you above us? And who taught you to disrespect yours? Without all this shit you’d be in them fields just like us!”

“Okay, OKAY.” Stack exhaled, “My fault. When I get all worked up I say shit I don’t mean. Go on and put that blade away before you do sum’ stupid. All this ova a few words?”

Smoke approached with Delta Slim. Donna caught his eye, but she didn’t make a move to lower her blade.

“Smoke, you better put some sense into your brother before I do.” Donna threatened.

“Smoke!” Stack shouted for his brother, “Get this crazy bitch off me!”

“Still calling me a bitch, huh?! Nigga I outta cut your nuts off!”

Snickering and applause surrounded them.

“She got this gangsta by the balls.” Delta Slim joked.

Stack glared at Donna, “Okay…look, I’m sorry.”

Donna challenged him with her own glare, “Sorry for WHAT?”

Stack kissed his teeth and grumbled.

“I can’t hear you!” Donna yelled.

“Shit, I said I was sorry! Sorry for calling ya’ll field bitches. Won’t happen again.”

Donna’s eyes softened a little.

Annie smirked.

Smoke’s eyes danced between them both. He knew not to interfere because Stack needed to know.

Mary stood uncomfortably between two women that gave her evil looks.

“Now,” Stack’s eyes dropped to her hand, “Get that blade off me, woman.”

Donna swiped Stack’s chin as if she were giving him a clean shave. He leaped back and stroked the spot where the blade had been. Tiny drops of blood painted his finger tips.

“CRAZY ASS!” Stack shouted with fury.

“Calm down, Stack. Ain’t nothin’ but a scratch.” Smoke said.

Stack shoved past his brother with embarrassment.

Donna closes her blade. Her eyes landed on Mary.

“As for you,” Donna pointed the closed blade at Mary’s face, “If I were you, I would be real careful what you wish for. Ain’t smart to talk shit in a room full of women that’ll drag your bony ass across this floor.”

Fear crossed Mary’s eyes for a second. She turned to Annie who gave her a look as if she’d ’told her so’.

Mary rolled her eyes into her head before strutting off towards the bar. Black woman mugged her up and down, ready to show her what a real ass whopping is.

“Girllll, you playing with fire!” One of Donna’s friends said.

“Can’t believe you did that.”

Donna snatched her corn liquor from a friend.

“I ain’t one to stand by and be disrespected. Grow a back bone. I been through too much pain. We gotta return to them same fields every damn day for wooden nickels. Fake money. And he just roll on back to the Delta like he better?!”

Donna shook her head.

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, Donna. Don’t get worked up over him.”

Donna released a sigh.

“You right.”

She walked away with her girls to grab a plate of fresh catfish.

[urinarythreatinfection]

I'm Better

Nami x Male Reader. 5574 words.

Desc: Nami gets tired of your libido and tells you to use a toy, it becomes her enemy.

Cw: Smut, fluff, a bit of angst-ish.

You and Nami are alone in the library. She stands over a map on her desk with you pressed against her back. “Nami…” You whisper in her ear while your hands slide up from her waist to her chest, squeezing gently as you press against her from behind. She starts to pant, letting out a small gasp when you pinch her nipple. It feels good for her, it does, but…

“A-Again…!?” She whines as you kiss her neck. “You have way too high.. hah.. of a libido!” She’s already feeling too sensitive from last night. She should be feeling grateful for having a boyfriend who can last so long, considering how many men cum fast then are out of commission; but this is way too much! Fingering her, eating her out, fucking her in multiple positions while touching her everywhere you could reach; it’s almost every time you two have sex she’s completely drained and out of it by the end. Thankfully you do leave her to work but every time you get the chance it seems like your hands are on her or you’re at least half-hard. One of your hands slides down her waistband to circle her clit with your fingers. “Ah~!” She jolts and once she’s slick you slide a digit inside of her, her hand gripping onto your wrist while the other grips the edge of her desk. It doesn’t take long for her to cum, you know her body well and she’s sensitive. Right when she thinks it’s over, however, you start touching her again once she’s caught her breath “Y-You..!” Nami grits her teeth. “Enough!” She elbows you and you step back, clutching your side.

“Ow…” Stings. “What for?”

“‘What for?’ What do you think!? Are you a dog in constant rut or something!? How are you always touching me!?” The ginger yells with her arms crossed.

“You’ve never had any complaints before though.” You point out and she falters.

“That’s.. well...” It’s true she’s been enjoying it.. Still! She needs to put her foot down or she’s going to end up collapsing one of these days. She’s already almost caused errors in her maps because of all this. “I’m complaining now and that’s what matters.” She huffs.

“Ah.. I guess so.” There’s a bit of silence before you speak again. “Can you at least help me get off?” You’re hard, and it’s uncomfortable.

“No, go use your hand.” One will turn into two anyway, she knows how this goes. You deflate, sad.

“My hand can’t compare to you though..” You mumble sadly and she sighs, annoyed.

“Then go use a toy, I don’t care, but I’ve got to use energy to work and I don’t need you constantly on me draining it away.” Nami quickly kicks you out of the library, leaving you outside the door. “‘My hand can’t compare to you’ he says.” She can’t help the corner of her lips smirking proudly as she goes back to her work. You’re grown, you can handle this yourself.

___________________

‘I’m so pent up!’ You lament, bouncing your leg with your head in your hands. You already had a high libido from the start, but being with Nami and head over heels for her only heightened it. You miss her… You can’t even be near her for too much anymore because you get hard and she kicks you out. You’ve tried using your hand but it just isn’t the same. “I miss fucking her.” You mumble. Usopp, working on another invention at his table next to you, sighs and lifts up his goggles.

“I don’t need to know this, (Y/n).” He’d been working when you suddenly burst inside and sat down, using his workshop as some sort of therapy room. He wouldn’t mind listening to your problems, he’s done it before, but what is he even supposed to say about this? “Nami’s right, you’re like a dog. I’m surprised she’s been able to keep up for this long. Have you ever had other lovers before? How did they deal with this.” You look away nervously. “The libido was a reason for breakups, huh.” You flinch, he hit the nail on the head. You’ve tried other things to quench your thirst, working out, meditating, reading; but it feels like the moment you fall in love your hunger can only be satiated by them.

“Maybe I just need to try harder. I don’t wanna lose her and if that means I have to restrict myself then.. then..” You clench your fists. “I-I’ll neuter myself!” Usopp smacks the back of your head.

“You’re not an actual dog!”

“But what else do I do? Should I ask Chopper for medication that’ll lower it?” That’s the only other solution you can think of. The sniper hums while you rub the back of your head, thinking about how stupid you are until something pops into his mind.

“She said you can use a toy, right? Why don’t you get one?” Your expression brightens at his proposal.

“Oh! You can make one for m-”

“I’m not making that.” He doesn’t even entertain it, shutting it down quickly. “Go ask Franky, he’s perverted enough to make something like that. He’s probably already made one before.”

“You’ve never made one?” You tilt your head and he looks back to his work desk.

“...Go ask him.” He didn’t answer the question.

__________________

As soon as you walk into Franky’s workshop he speaks, not even turning to look at you. “You came here for a toy, right?”

“Was it that obvious?” You’re a little self-conscious now.

“You’ve gotten kicked out by Nami enough times to notice. Here.” He tosses something at you and you catch it. Fleshlight, it looks like it can move too. He must’ve started making it once he noticed your predicament. You examine it, there are 4 modes, slow, medium, high, and SUPER. There's also a star design.

‘Can he make something normal?’ You wonder to yourself, but hey, at least he made it for you. You could’ve bought one on an island, but there aren’t many with specified adult shops; much less ones that would have toys as advanced as this. But the way it looks..

“Is the design too much?” He asks, reading your facial expression. He looks disappointed, you’re starting to feel guilty. Franky is the one who took the time to make this for you and now you’re judging it.

“No.. it’s.. well its—I mean,” You stutter. “I’m gonna be fucking this thing.” You point out awkwardly and he grins.

“Thought it would make you more pumped. SUPER pumped!” He poses SUPER-ly. Maybe you should just leave. You can’t even call Franky a pervert since it’s a compliment to him.

____________________

It actually isn’t bad. Really awkward at first considering the design and that your friend made it, but leaving that aside it’s not bad. It’s good, even; though it’s not your girlfriend. Thanks to that, you’ve been able to hang out with Nami again, and she hasn’t kicked you out. Sure you still have the instinct to touch her, but that's less of a lust thing and more she’s just nice to touch. Still, it’s nice being around her again, you missed being able to talk to her without getting kicked out because you’re hard. She seems to enjoy it too, so everything is sunshine and rainbows; at least for a while.

“Then Usopp told us he had the ability to speak fluently once he was 3 months old, and Chopper believed him immediately. Turns out Chopper could speak around the same time, probably due to the growth rate of him being a reindeer before he finally ate his devil fruit.” You explain your day to Nami, who has started to space out while you two sit in the aquarium bar. “Once Usopp learned that, you could see the panic on his face since now his lie wasn’t as impressive anymo..r..e” Your speaking slows to a stop once you realize the ginger is clearly lost in thought despite looking at you. “Nami?” You call out but she doesn’t respond. “Namiiii.” You call her name again and she finally jolts.

“Y-Yeah?”

“You were spaced out, was my rambling that boring?” You half-joke.

“No, um.” She glances at your crotch for a second then back up at you. “No, you’re fine. Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” You hesitate to ask her what the problem is. She tends to be fickle, multiple times she ends up getting sad if you don’t ask but not answering if you do; even getting annoyed with you sometimes if you do. She feels that she must not matter to you if you don’t continue to pry but then randomly angry if you do. You’ve gotten used to it, it’s part of her charm and the package you accepted, but in moments like this where it could be important it makes you hesitate. You’ve started learning her different signals and what to say but right now she isn’t giving any you know of, just spaced out. “What’s wrong?” You decide to ask.

“Uhm.” She looks hesitant too. “Did you ask Chopper for meds to lower your libido?”

“That’s what this is about!?” You’re shocked, raising your voice by accident. It makes her expression turn sad and you quickly backtrack before she thinks you're mad at her for asking. “I'm not mad, not mad, just shocked you asked.” You sigh in relief when her expression turns back to normal.

“I just asked since.. well..” Conflicted. Nami wants to point out that you haven't latched onto her for a week or got hard, even if you two talk for hours and are close to each other; but if she points it out it might seem like she’s complaining despite asking for this in the first place.

“Is it because I haven’t been hard?” You make the choice for her. Takes a weight off her chest not having to make the decision. The navigator nods. “I haven’t been taking meds, don’t worry about that.”

‘He hasn’t? Then why hasn’t he been getting hard? Was I too mean to him? Ugh I should’ve been nicer, I’m not used to this.’ She’s starting to regret constantly kicking you out, she just didn’t know what else to do. You’re her first boyfriend, it’s not like she had the leisure to date around before while working for Arlong. ‘Maybe I should’ve tried asking Robin…’ Though technically Robin wouldn’t have much experience dating either being constantly on the run.

“I’ve actually started using a toy.” That shatters her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you said you didn’t mind me using one as long as it stopped me from coming onto you.” You remind her and she pauses, then starts to sweat nervously.

‘I did say that, didn't I?’ Nami thinks to herself. She had said that in the heat of the moment then forgot. “So you’ve been using one?”

“Franky made me a fleshlight-”

‘Of course it was him.’

“-and I’ve been using it.” Shoot. Pervert cyborg. Wait, this helps her. Why is she upset?

“So it’s been helping?” She asks and you nod.

“Yeah, it feels better than I thought. It’s great, I get off and now I get to hang with you without getting hard. Despite the design it’s well made.”

“Ohhh that’s greattt..” She forces herself to say despite how clenched her fists are from you complimenting it.

“Thanks, it can move so when I’m fucking it it moves back to me, though I can take that off. If I lay down it’s even like it’s riding me.” Her fingers dig into her palms. “So you don’t need to worry now since I don’t need you to get off anymore. We can just talk like normal.” Despite you continuing to speak she isn’t listening to you anymore. You saying you don’t need her to get off anymore being the only thing in her mind.

‘He doesn’t need me anymore to get off.’ Shit, she’s upset. Even if she’s the one that told you to use a toy she can feel herself getting upset, but she can’t tell you because she’s the one that’s been kicking you out for getting hard. You’re praising that damn toy like it’s better than her, too. Alas, her worry isn’t letting her communicate this to you, so you continue to talk thinking that she wants to know since she isn’t stopping you.

“I’ve been enjoying our time and not having to get my hands on you, since you don’t like it, so the toy’s helping a lot. I should thank Franky again-” You’re interrupted by Nami standing up quickly.

“Sorry! Actually I just remembered I had to go do something! Let’s talk later okay?” She manages to keep her voice and facial expression normal so you don’t suspect anything.

“Oh, okay?” You’re still a bit confused but if she has to do something she has to do something.

NAMI’S POV

Nami speedwalks out of the aquarium bar and to the library to work on something, anything. “Stupid boyfriend, stupid cyborg, stupid toy.” In her hurry she hits her nail bed on the metal handle of the library door. “OW!” Nothing going her way ended up making her happier. She goes inside and rushes to her mapping desk. There isn’t a rush to do any of this, she planned to do it so she can be with you, but the plan has changed. Her hands tie her hair up into a ponytail then get to work, using pure instinct to roughly draw the map. It’s only helping a bit, and she realizes when she’s done she’d somehow managed to draw the map in reverse. Her notes, she accidentally used them from bottom to top. At the realization she slowly sinks to her knees. It was just a rough draft of the map so it shouldn’t matter but right now it matters a lot, tears forming in her eyes. ‘I asked for this, I did, and it’s working out the way I hoped.’ She sniffles. ‘So why am I so upset?’ Nami puts her face in her hands, she’s horrible. She didn’t even hate you touching her, she just wanted you to do it less often; but instead of saying that and working on it with you she ended up pushing all of it away. Now you’re using a toy instead of her and apparently it’s the best thing ever. Nami stands up and rips the ruined rough draft to shreds, tossing it in the nearest trash can haphazardly. How does she tell you this? Just suddenly say “Hey I know I yelled at you to use a toy and kicked you out everytime you even just got hard but I hate that you’re using a toy now so throw it away because I changed my mind.” That sounds so entitled, and she feels bad for being so fickle all the time. Now you aren’t touching her at all. She sniffles again, a single tear in her eye. “I’m horny…”

YOUR POV

“Thanks for the help!” Franky says to you as you leave. To repay him you’ve been helping in the workshop and around the ship with repairs, it’s labor but it's nice to do. You even got some gear on to make sure you’re safe, welding mask, goggles, steel toe boots. You aren’t actually doing the building of course, but it saves Franky a lot of time and effort having you hand him tools and such. Now it’s the end of the day, so the both of you are heading to sleep. You decide to go out for some fresh air first, whether or not you like it you aren’t like Franky so getting some fresh air will help you. While you’re outside you spot Robin on night watch. She notices you and walks over.

“Hey Robin! Just getting some air.” You explain and she hums.

“I’ve noticed you around helping Franky the entire day, it’s good for you to be out here a bit.” Robin says before continuing. “However, there is something I should say.” You tilt your head. “I don’t want to pry into your personal life, I believe in learning things for yourself, but Nami has been getting more and more upset lately. I’m still her friend and understand that she struggles to ask for help for emotional matters, so I wanted to inform you before she got any worse as it seems she’s not any closer to telling you despite my suggestions.” You freeze. She’s upset? What happened? You thought that you had solved things already! Plus if she’s not telling even Robin it must be bad…

“Thanks Robin, I’ll talk with her.”

“You’re welcome.” Robin knows Nami will be upset with her for telling you, but it’s for her own good. She wouldn’t have intervened if there was some sign of communicating, no matter how small, but there was nothing even with Robin’s light suggestions. Nami was only going to keep it in until something bad happened. She only hopes it’s not too late.

_________________

You knock on the door of the girl’s room, hearing Nami groan. “Come in.” When you open the door and step inside she’s lying lazily on her bed with ⅓ of her lower body hanging off. Her eyes open slowly and trail to you, widening as she realizes it's you and not Robin. She sits upright immediately. “W—What’re you doing here?” Her voice is slightly shaky from being caught off guard.

“I can’t come and see my lovely, beautiful girlfriend?” You ask and she stares at you in suspicion. “I really did come to see you!”

“You’re not gonna ask me for anything?” She frowns, still suspicious.

“I am gonna ask you something but not money.” You get closer to her and try to sit down but she stops you.

“No way, you’re dirty from being with Franky the whole day. I’m not letting you ruin the sheets.” You sulk a little bit. You were looking forward to sitting down after being busy the whole day, but alas she has a point.. even if she secretly just doesn’t want to be close to you right now. “Why were you even helping him?” You try to answer but she interrupts you. “I already put it together, it was thanks for making that stupid toy wasn’t it.”

‘Stupid?’ You’re caught off guard but respond. “Yeah it was, it was mostly handing him tools or materials though.” She sighs, mumbling something you can’t hear. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I said I knew it!” Nami stands up angrily. “Of course you would thank him! You’d probably bow down on your hands and knees thanking him for making you a new girlfriend!” You’re stunned, what is she talking about? She walks over and stomps on your boot hard with her bare foot, then angrily lies back down on her bed covering herself with the blanket. Despite how hard she stomped.. well.. you’re wearing steel toed boots, and she’s barefoot. You lean over and try to pull the blanket off but she makes sure it stays on.

“Nami I know that hurts, let me check your foot before it swells.” Stomping on basically hard metal with no protection probably hurt like hell, but she’s stubborn. You sigh. “Don’t make me wake up Chopper for this.” At your words she looks at you with shock and betrayal, then scowls and looks away. She doesn’t take the blanket fully off but slowly sticks her foot out. “I know that’s not the right one.” There’s a pause and then she switches to the other, a part of the bottom is red. You gently grab it and she flinches from pain. Nami isn’t dumb, she knew you were wearing boots, yet she did it anyway knowing it would hurt her more than it hurt you. Physically, at least, since your heart is stinging seeing your girlfriend this upset. You press your thumb on the spot. It’s already starting to swell.

“If you call him for this I’m taking away your allowance.” Her voice is quiet but you still catch it.

“I won’t, but you have to see him in the morning.” You put her foot down and she pulls it back under the cover. You’d like to do something like massage it for the swelling, but you feel like you would get kicked out immediately. It feels like you’re already pushing it. “Why are you so mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

…

“Okay I’m mad, but it’s nothing.” Her first answer was so unbelievable she ended up confessing.

“It’s clearly not nothing, just tell me what’s up. You already hurt yourself.” You love Nami and want to respect boundaries but this is too much, she’s going to end up holding the stress in until she explodes. She doesn’t answer. “Nami I’m worried about you.” Still no answer. “..If you won’t talk I’ll assume it’s my fault and jump into the ocean for my sins.” She flinches, turning towards you with a cold frown.

“You’re gonna talk like that then just do it.” You turn and walk towards the door and she backtracks. “N-No, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” She sits up slowly, looking guilty. “It’s..” She complains a lot over little things but when it’s actually something serious like this it’s like she assumes she can just handle it. That it’ll go away on its own if she bears it. ‘I wish I could talk to him like normal.’ Her eyes trail from yours and you get close to her.

“Why’d you call the toy my new girlfriend?” The redhead grimaces, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m... jealous.” Her cheeks are tinted a little.

“Of the toy? But you told me-”

“I know! I know it’s unreasonable that’s why I didn’t want to say it. I complained and told you to get one in the first place but now I’m jealous of the stupid thing. I’m being stupid.” You would sit down to hug her but you’re still dirty.

“I’m gonna take a quick bath. I need to get clean and it should help you sort your thoughts. Just know the toy is a toy and my girlfriend is my girlfriend.” You’d love to comfort her but your muscles ache, you can't sit on the bed, and you can’t even hug her. Plus, it’s not enjoyable having all this machine oil and sweat on you. Nami nods, but you can tell she’s hesitant. You lean down and kiss her forehead. “I won’t be long.” As you leave the room you don’t notice Nami clenching her jaw.

______________

You feel a lot better now, in fresh clothes and no longer uncomfortable. You’re ready to talk to her again, even if you’re tired; but your eyes widen as you open the door and see her holding a familiar toy. “H-How? What? How’d you get that?”

“So this is my stupid replacement.” She grumbles, squeezing it. “I nabbed it from the boy’s quarters, obviously. They sleep like logs.”

‘Right, she’s experienced in that stuff.. it didn’t matter if I had it hidden or not.’ “I said already it's not a replacement for you.”

“I know. It’s not me.”

“Nami I-” Before you can try to comfort her more she grabs your hand and tugs you onto the bed on your back, straddling your hips.

“But it’s a replacement for my body, and you won’t need it anymore.” She tosses the fleshlight to the side. She’s looking down at you, pouting lightly. She thought you bathing would give her the chance to calm down, but it just gave her time to think about how you’ve been fucking a toy and if even if it’s not her maybe it’s better than her body. A toy that doesn’t get tired or that you don’t have to be gentle with.. she’s starting to develop a bit of a complex about it.

“Nami..?” You say, hesitant. Is this her making a move or maybe she’s just angry? The fact that you’re hesitating instead of immediately drooling and latching onto her is making her insecurity worse.

“There’s lots of stuff a fleshlight can’t do, you know.” She doesn’t want that. Being better than the toy just because of her girlfriend status isn’t enough, she needs to be superior at making you feel better. She’s better.

“Woah!” She leans forward, pressing her chest on your face.

“A toy doesn’t have these.” She says, sliding a hand to the back of your head and pulling you closer. Squishy, she smells good. You can already feel yourself getting hard. You groan into her breasts when she grinds down on you. “Already getting hard, of course you are.” Her other hand goes to your waistband and pulls your dick out, stroking it. It’s so sudden, and your head is going dizzy from the boobs in your face. You don’t even realize you’re air-deprived until she pulls them away.

“Holy shit.” She sinks down to her knees and grabs your cock, letting spit drool down before sinking her breasts down onto your length. Your dick presses against the band of her bikini top, making her hum and press closer till it's completely enveloped in soft flesh. She smirks up at you, letting her finger slowly circle your tip.

“How’s this?” She says smoothly like your heart isn’t beating out of your chest.

“Hot as hell.” You mumble to her and she presses her lips together tightly, seemingly holding in something she wants to say. Before you can ask she presses her lips to the sensitive tip of your dick, licking around while rocking the shaft between her boobs. Her tongue teases the frenulum before taking the entire bulb into her soft mouth. Your head rolls back.

“Eyes on me.” She demands, snapping the band of her bikini against your shaft. You flinch and look back as she starts to bounce her boobs. Warm, soft, you see your dick go in and out of her cleavage with each movement, slick noises from the saliva permeating your ears. She feels you throb, and she starts to pant lightly. “You’re hopeless.”

“How am I supposed to last long like this?” She stops for a moment to push her chest together tighter, focusing the movements on the upper half of your dick so the tip is always engulfed in her cleavage; massaging it as you shiver and gasp, finally spurting cum into her cleavage. Once she feels it stop twitching she lifts her breasts off of you. You fall onto your back, you’re tired. You’ve been doing labor the whole day and now this, it’s a lot. Her hand goes back to untie her top and she goes back into your lap, leaning over and letting it fall onto your chest to give you a full view of your cum in the valley. You hear a pleased chuckle come from your girlfriend watching your eyes unable to leave.

“Tired already? I’m gonna give you something else while you’re resting up.” Nami unzips her pants, pulling them down and off while crawling up until her thighs on the sides of your head. Her panties are above your face, a small wet spot over her hole. She leans back and slides them off before hovering above you. “A toy can’t sit on your face either.” Then she sinks her weight down onto you, suffocating you against her pussy. Her hips rock a bit, moans escaping her before she fully grinds down. “O-Open, ah!” You open your mouth for her to grind her bud down onto your tongue. You flick your tongue around her clit before grabbing onto her thighs and forcing her forward so you can dip your tongue inside of her. Her slick coats your taste buds as she rides it, using your nose against her clit as stimulation while rocking. Her thighs are soft as you squeeze them, her moans muffled over the sound of blood rushing to your head. “Just like that, hah~!” She leans forward to grip onto the sheets, moving back down to hump her clit against your tongue until she spasms and whines out. You continue to lick until she lifts off of you, letting you breathe properly.

‘Why is she so heated all of a sudden, what happened while I was in the bath?’ Your head is blank but you feel yourself slowly dragged up. When you focus your eyes it’s Nami trying to drag you to lay properly.

“Hurry, so I can ride your dick next…” Her cheeks are flushed as she tells you, erotic and cute, who are you to not obey? Plus, having her sit on your face like that had given you plenty of time and arousal to get you hard again. You move up, placing your head down on the pillow after taking your clothes off as she straddles your hips. Your cum is still on her breasts, a bit of it drips off onto your stomach. Even if you aren’t sure what happened, having your girlfriend this hot and bothered isn’t gonna make you complain. Your tip hits her entrance, the muscles there contracting around the glands before she sinks down. With a moan she sinks down onto your hips, squeezing around you before she rocks. “A toy can’t d-do this.” She continues to rock her hips until she lifts herself up then drops down quickly, her back arches slightly, she’s pent up. Cumming once wasn’t enough when going from constant stimulation to nothing for almost 3 weeks. She lifts up again then drops, starting with a medium pace while you lay there panting. Finally you grab onto her hips and thrust up into her. “Ah!”

“I can’t not move when you’re like this.” You say as you help her bounce on your dick, sounds of pleasure and sex filling the room as you meet her hips with your own movements. She’s close, she is even if it’s quicker than normal. A few more thrusts and she whines, gripping onto your arms that keep moving her as her pussy periodically clenches around you like it’s trying to milk your cock. Even after she finishes you keep going.

“W-Wait I-”

“I’m sorry, just a little longer.” You sit up and wrap your arms around her waist, quickly pistoning your dick in and out to reach your peak while she squirms and whines. Finally you hold her close, chests pressing together as you let out into your girlfriend’s tight pussy. You both pant for a bit before you pull back and kiss her deeply. She quickly reciprocates with her arms loosely wrapped around your neck. When you pull away you rest your head on her shoulder. You feel a pat on your shoulder to get your attention. She pushes you down onto your back.

“Already done?”

“I, well I’ve been busy the whole day I’m kinda..” You’re interrupted by her squeezing her breasts with her hands.

“Are you sure?” She grinds down and your dick twitches. “Because I’m not done yet~”

____________

Nami sits there on your lap, panting as she catches her breath while you heave. “How’s… that?” She says after a big breath, but when she looks down you’re dizzy and fucked out. “D-Did I go too far?’ Worried, she softly pokes your cheek. You groan before passing out. Your body was already worn out from helping Franky the entire day, multiple rounds took whatever energy was left. She looks down at you, then at herself. Though she would like to sleep, she doesn’t want to sleep like this. Nami stands up, cum dripping from inside her, and wipes you off with a small towel. You shiver in your sleep when she gently wipes off your length, then she goes to the bath. It’s relaxing, and she’s finally satiated after being cut off from you for so long. When she goes back to the room you’re still asleep in her bed. Well, it’s not like she can carry you back to your bed, and she isn’t cruel enough to force you awake. So she’ll just have to sleep with you, and is forced to cuddle into your side just to fend off the cold. Your girlfriend snuggles close to you, smiling when you instinctively turn to hold her. She wins.

~Bonus~

“Namiii~” You coo to her while kissing her cheeks.

“I’m busy right now.” She sighs and you pout.

“Aww..”

“Just go use the to-” Nami stops herself.

“You’re still not gonna let me use it?” You rest your chin on her shoulder. “You already proved you’re the best.” True..

“..Alright. But!” She turns and points a finger at you. “Only use it when you can’t hold it and I say I’m not in the mood or I’m too busy.” She doesn’t want a repeat of you only using the fleshlight and going cold turkey on her.

“Alright.” That’s not hard to do.

“And when you use it you have to think of me.” Her hands go to her hips. You tilt your head.

“...? Of course. What else would I be thinking of? You’re my girlfriend.” You’re confused. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get off properly.” When you say that her mouth goes into an O shape. “Nami? Baby?”

‘I didn’t think of that..’ She’s gone silent as you call her multiple times.

I finally finished this *wheeze*. It's pretty long, and i do have shorter stuff in my wips, but I wanted to hurtty up and finish this since the idea was funny to me (I got it after waking up one day). It ended up longer than I thought it would be though, and I still feel like it was shortened. Anyway, I know Nami isn't very popular in the fanfic scene, and I've only seen a few small smut headcanons; so i don't actually know if this has much of a demand. Anyway, I wanted to write it so I did. So enjoy it now/hj

[deangirlsstuff67]

Stressed Out

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean is stressed, you’re frustrated and you’re both stuck inside Baby together. Can Dean teach you a thing or two.

Warnings: male receiving oral, dirty talk, language, pet names, fingering, squirting, virgin reader

Authors Note: I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only. I have this idea for a mini series and this is the first fan fiction in it. Hope you enjoy !

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Dean had been stressed all week over this stupid case. Nothing seems to be adding up, the more digging you do, the more questions you end up having.

Sam was left in the motel room to comb through more lore as you and Dean ventured out to find some decent food. The plan was to call Bobby and see if he could help point you guys in the right direction.

If not, more research was in store.

You’re praying to whatever bullshit god is out there that between the three of you, you figure out what this creature is sooner rather than later. Sam and Dean have started to get on each others last nerve and not only has it started to annoy you also, but you know they are gonna kill each other if this keeps up.

In the front seat of the impala you’re listening to Dean basically talk to himself under his breath. Cussing out Sammy, trying to piece together this mystery, even heard him promise himself that he’s going to go find someone to fuck nice and hard to relieve some of his stress.

That got your attention. Your body responding to his words instantly as the start of your arousal creeps in. The more he mumbles under his breath about needing to cum, or wanting to bed someone over the hood of the impala, or hearing how he wants to sink his cock into a wet, hot mouth has your thighs squeezing together and your virgin pussy clench around nothing.

The older Winchester has always been attractive in your eyes. Rough and rugged, sharp jaw line, piercing green eyes that feel like they’re peering into your soul.

You’d be lying if you said you’ve never thought about him in the dark of night, laying in bed with your fingers dancing across your clit just begging for a release.

Sadly, you know that fantasy will never come true. You’re like his little sister. Best friend even. He trusts you with his darkest secrets and protects you at all costs. If it wasn’t for Dean you probably wouldn’t be a virgin. He doesn’t let anyone close enough to try these days.

Does he know you’re a virgin? No.

You shift in the seat, trying to find someone relief from the building fire within your core. As the night rushes past the windows, you begin to imagine what being on your knees in front of Dean would feel like. How those gorgeous emerald eyes would be looking down at you, blown wide with desire as you wrap your lips around his thick, hard cock. Wondering how wet his could make you with the little noises you’d pull from him as you choke on his length.

Fuck you’re practically dripping all over his leather seats right now. Maybe you should have remembered underwear under this mini skirt.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you hear Deans voice, “you okay sweetheart?”

Snapping your head towards him, you see that he’s pulled over into what looks like an abandoned gas station on the side of the road.

When the hell did we stop?

“Yeah, I’m all good Dean.” Hopefully he doesn’t see the blush warming your cheeks.

Something predatory flashes in his irises when you lightly squeeze your thighs together again. You didn’t mean to, but the more he looks you up and down, the more your pussy is drooling for the man.

Fuck you need to get back to the motel and look yourself in the bathroom.

No words are exchanged as he slowly moves his large hand to rest on your upper thigh. Gripping tight enough to entice a whimper from you, he smirks as he lazily drags you closer to him in the seat.

“You sure about that, your body seems to be telling me something different.”

Leaning towards you, he searches for any sign that you don’t want this. He’s own fantasy pushing him forward when he finds no resistance from you. Soft, pillowy lips connect with yours in a heated kiss. You take your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly earning yourself a deep groan that you swallow down.

You have to tell him.

When breathing is needed you both break away from each other. Foreheads resting on each other. Closing your eyes you confess your darkest secret to the man of your dreams, praying he won’t be scared off.

“Dean…”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I’m… I’m a virgin.”

His hand resting on your thigh gentle squeezes as he shuts his eyes and groans. Nothing has sounded more sexy than those three little words to him.

“Okay, you want this?”

“Yeah I do.”

“Going to be a good girl and listen to me?”

He pulls back as he watches you, studying your responses. All you can do is nod, because you find him calling you a good girl so damn hot.

“I’m a big guy y/n,” a whimper escapes your lips that makes him smirk, “we’re going to have to prepare you good and slow to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

“Okay…”

“Good girl.” He releases your thigh and your face is painted in confusion. Laughing he fires Baby back up and merges back onto the dark highway.

“Take your skirt off for me and leaning against the door. Put your leg over the back of the seat. Want to see how wet you are for me baby.”

Something inside you snaps. Between your arousal and crush on the man beside you, your body betrays you as it responds and listens to Deans demands.

Slowly you slide your skirt down your tan legs, throwing it somewhere into the backseat. Leaning against the door of the impala, you spread your bare pussy for Dean to see.

Groaning he licks his lips when he sees you have no panties on and are glistening for him and only him.

Slowly he moves a hand off the steering wheel, the touch is light at first. Just rubbing the wetness all around your outer lips as he drives down the road. You can hear his breath hitch, “this all for me sweetheart?”

You can’t answer, too turned on by his touch, all you can do is nod as you let out another whimper for him.

“Mmm… good girl.” Skillfully Dean finds your clit in the dark, “you touch yourself thinking about me baby girl?”

“Yes…”

“Make yourself cum thinking of how my cock would split this tiny pussy open?”

“Oh god…”

As quick as his hand was on you, it’s gone. You whine at the lack of touch making him chuckle, “touch yourself for me y/n, show me what you do when you’re thinking about me.”

Your brain short circuits with his request. You never thought you’d be doing this with Dean fucking Winchester.

Getting food for the three of you has been forgotten as he watched you pleasure yourself while he drives his Baby down the deserted highway.

Wet, squelching noises and laboured breath from both you and Dean fills the car as he speeds down the highway. Deans eyes are focused on your fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt, occasionally making sure he’s in his lane.

“Faster baby, make your pussy drool for me.” He’s palm rubs against his rock hard cock trapped inside his jeans, begging for attention. You move your hand faster and deeper, finding that special spot inside your trembling walls that makes you sing his name as your y/e/c roll in the back of your head.

“That’s it baby girl, look at you all fucked out while I watch…” his words push you to edge, a couple more thrusts of your hand and Deans large hand pulls yours away, “nah sweetheart, your going to cum on my fingers.” That’s all the warning you get before two thick fingers plunge straight into your well used pussy stretching you wider than you’ve ever experienced. Two deep thrusts and he has you screaming his name as you squeeze the life out of his fingers trying to push them out.

Dean watches the cum squirt out of your cunt and down his arm onto his leather seats, “damn baby, did you just squirt for me?”

You don’t responded because he is still moving those glorious fingers inside you, massaging that spot that makes you see starts just right. You feel another one building fast as he keeps going, “fuck that’s hot, going to have fun playing with my new toy.”

You’re about to cum again when you feel him remove his hand and Baby slow to a stop. Whimpering in frustration Dean chuckles at you as he exists the impala, leaning in and dragging you to the edge of the seat.

“On your knees y/n.”

Sinking down to the ground you obey without question, reaching up to start undoing his jeans. You fumble with his button, looking up as you push his jeans and boxers down just enough to release his cock. A dangerous look crosses Deans features as he stares at you on your knees in front of him begging to be fucked senseless.

Your y/e/c eyes widen when you take in his length and girth, “think you can handle what you just released sweetheart?”

Meeting his gaze, “I don’t know.”

Taking his dick by the base he slaps it against your cheek, rubbing the pre cum leaking out of his angry cock all over your lips before you open up allowing him to slip inside your warm, waiting mouth. A groan leaves his sinful lips as he shuts his eyes at the feeling.

Slowly you begin bobbing down his length. Deans hand lays on the back of your head helping guide you. “Come on baby, you can take more. Relax your throat for me.”

You gag when his large cock head touches the back of your throat, you go to pull back but he stops you, keeping you choking on his dick, “relax baby, let me in. You can take it y/n.”

Tears falls from your eyes as you struggle to take him deeper. Finally he feels your throat relax and pushes forward. Slowly filling your throat until your nose pushes against the soft brown curls framing the beautiful monster invading you. “Fuck… look at that.” His hand traces the bulge in your throat as you stare up at him with hooded eyes.

“You ready baby girl?”

You moan your response and grip onto the back of his thighs just as he pulls out and pushes back in. After a couple slow thrusts Dean begins to speed up his pace. Within seconds he’s fucking your throat raw with his head thrown back enjoying the feel of your throat squeezing him tight.

Dean knows he isn’t going to last long like this and he needs to watch you cum again before he floods your mouth, “touch your virgin pussy for me. I need to see you make a mess all over the ground while you choke on my cock.”

Listening immediately you push two fingers inside your velvet walls. It doesn’t take you long to get to the edge again, Dean watched as he keeps the rhythm deep in your throat, “cum y/n, make a mess for me… fuck this is so hot.”

How words push you over that edge. Hot cum comes squirting out of your cunt and onto the ground below you. Two more deep pushes and you feel his dick twitch before saltiness invade your mouth and throat.

Fuck, without even needing your fingers your pussy squirts again from the feeling of him unloading inside you. Dean sees it and groans your name as the last few spurts land on your tongue before he gentle pulls out of your mouth completely.

Your whole body is trembling when he pulls you to your feet. Hands sprawled on your hips to keep you steady, backing you against the impala before bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. Licking into your mouth and he brings one hand around to gently rub your puffy pussy making you moan into the kiss as he chuckles.

Forehead against yours he looks deep into your y/e/c irises moving his hand across your clit repeatedly until your squirting yet again, making his hand a fucking mess.

“Fuck I’ll never get tired of that,” he brings his fingers to your mouth and watches you suck your juices off for him, “your mine now y/n, this tiny virgin pussy is about to be ruined for any other man.”

Kissing you sweetly this time, “say it sweetheart.”

“I’m yours Dean.”

“That’s right,” spinning you around he smacks your ass as he pushes you back into the car, “don’t tap out on me yet, I’m going to play with this leaking cunt all the way back to the motel, then I’m going to watch as my big fat dick splits you in two as your scream my name.”

And fuck if your cunt doesn’t clench for him to see as your ass is in the air as you crawl to the passenger side, “oh kitten, looks like your pussy likes that idea. Stay just like that. I’m going to have some fun.”

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[sturniololuvz]

Can you do Chris has a son and a daughter (twins) and the brother pushes his sister and she runs to tell Chris while crying and he explains to his son why he can’t hurt her and stuff

A SHIT TON of draft are about to be posted !!!!!!!

⸻

“Gentle Hands”

The afternoon sun poured through the living room windows, casting long shadows across scattered toys and a trail of crayons. Laughter had filled the air only minutes ago — the kind of bubbly chaos that came with being a father of six-year-old twins.

Chris was in the kitchen, half-focused on cutting up apples when he heard it — the sharp thud, a cry, and the hurried patter of small feet.

She rounded the corner first, cheeks blotchy and wet, her tiny hands rubbing at her eyes. “Daddy!” she sobbed, rushing straight into his legs.

Chris immediately dropped the knife, crouching down and scooping her into his arms. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. What happened?”

“He—he pushed me!” she wailed into his shoulder, clutching at the back of his shirt. “I didn’t do anything! He just got mad because I took the blue marker!”

Chris held her close, rubbing small, slow circles on her back. Over her shoulder, he saw him standing stiff in the hallway, arms crossed, a scowl half hiding the guilt in his eyes.

“Okay,” Chris said gently, brushing her hair from her face. “You’re okay now. Daddy’s got you. Just breathe for me, alright?”

She nodded into his shoulder, hiccuping softly.

Chris stood, still holding her, and turned to his son. “Come here, bud.”

He didn’t move at first. But after a second, with a huff, he shuffled over — eyes avoiding both of theirs.

Chris crouched so he could talk to them both, one in each arm now, feeling the tension between them like a storm cloud.

“Look at me,” Chris said softly, and finally, he did.

“You can be mad,” Chris said. “It’s okay to feel angry, especially when something feels unfair. But what is not okay is using your hands to hurt someone — especially your sister.”

“But she—”

Chris raised a hand, not to scold, just to stop the excuses. “No. I need you to listen to me.”

He glanced down at her. She was sniffling quietly now, curled up against his side.

“You love her. I know you do. She’s not just your sister, she’s your twin. Your best friend for life. And when you hurt her — even if it seems small — it tells her she’s not safe with you. And that’s not something we ever, ever want someone we love to feel.”

His son blinked hard, clearly trying not to cry himself. “I didn’t mean to make her cry…”

Chris nodded. “I believe you. But it still happened. So now, we fix it. With our words. With kindness. And with the promise that next time, you’ll come talk to me instead of using your hands. Deal?”

There was a long pause before he whispered, “Deal.”

Chris looked to his daughter. “You okay if he says sorry?”

She looked up, quiet, and nodded. Chris shifted slightly so they were face to face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t do it again.”

She looked at him for a long moment before leaning forward and wrapping her little arms around his neck. “It’s okay,” she mumbled.

Chris felt his chest loosen. He wrapped both arms around them, pulling them into one tight, warm hug.

“You two will fight sometimes,” he said softly. “But we never stop loving each other. And we always, always fix it.”

And with that, the storm passed — for now.

⸻