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#BUT THE OTHER TWO BARELY GOT ANY VOTES
gabriellovescandy · 2 years
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I just found out that except for my city + Florence EVERYWHERE ELSE IN ITALY the fascist party got more votes. EVERYWHERE ELSE. WHAT THE FUCK
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sybbi · 4 months
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"If enough of us vote third party for president, we could actually GET somewhere with our policy goals!"
Baby girl you can't even get a majority of third party/independents in a single state legislature. In the past 30 years there have been seven independent/third party state governors, and of those, only three were genuinely independent. The rest either got elected as a R/D and switched mid-term when they alienated themselves from their state party, got elected as I and then switched to R/D during their terms (with some of them having served the R/D parties before), or served as proxy candidates with heavy backing and support from one of the major two parties. Even VERMONT, a relative stronghold for independent/third party candidates -- the place that brought you Bernie Sanders -- doesn't have a majority of third party candidates. And when I call them a stronghold, I mean they are the only state (I know of) that consistently elects (less than a handful of) Independent candidates to the state legislature; the place is still dominated by Ds and Rs.
"The highest power in the land can't actually be voted on so there's no reason to vote for the democrats"
Hey princess here are some high school civics question for you: How are Supreme Court judges nominated? :) By what process are they appointed? Who starts that process? :) Why is the Supreme Court considered reflective of who has won the presidency? :)
#the reason you 'cant get anywhere' with your policies is bc youre not the political strategists you think you are#some of you barely know how your own government functions and it fucking shows#and it would be one thing if i looked in ur bios and u were like. 15 or smthg.#but 30?!?!?! you're 30 yrs old and you dont understand that the rsn rvw was overturned under biden is bc trump got his foot in the door???#youre 30 and youll rant abt the long lasting effects of reagan's presidential policies but you cant fathom trump might have left#a similarly long-lasting legacy??#youre 30 and you think the echo chamber you put yourself in on the internet is proof that clrly a vast majority of ppl agree w u#and theres no need to play politics when the democrats couls just wave their wands and fix everything if they werent so evil#despite the fact that both of the ladt two elections about half the population was voting for trump???#the tight margins btwn repub and democrat in congress shld tell you that#you are 30 and dont understand what strategic voting is?#youre 30 and you dont understand the difference between state laws and federal laws#youre 30 and youre upset that joe biden is a 'fascist dictator' but not in the way that gives you everything you want?#youre 30 and youre acting like biden and the dems operate in a vacuum without interference feom political enemies and#moneyed interests that have thrown up lawsuits and obstructionist tactics and misinformation#everytime the try to do something good?#youre 30 and you think palestine will be saved if joe's not in office when the only other viable candidate in the running#was cozy with netanyahu and advocated 'finishing the job' re:palestine and moved the embassy to jerusalem#in a clr fuck you to any palestinian feelings?#youre 30??? youre 30 and you never outgrew the 'mommy and daddy made me mad so I'm gonna smoke to get back at them' mentality???
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sgt-tombstone · 2 days
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Call signs weren’t supposed to be flattering. More often than not, they were the direct result of some embarrassing fuck-up that trailed a soldier for the rest of their life. They were voted on by the first platoon that a soldier joined, usually within the first few months, and they then spent the next few months cringing every time they heard it. Simon’s first platoon had seen a recruit land the call sign “Seagull” after a drunken dare to nick a fry from their captain’s tray in the mess hall, and he had personally bestowed the call sign “Dash” upon a soldier who had somehow managed to clip himself in the leg with his own bullet. Dumb Ass Shot Himself…
The embarrassment wore off, though. When one was stuck with a name for the rest of their lives, they learned to live with it sooner rather than later. The associated stories either got buried deep or drunkenly flaunted; the stupider the better. The funny ones became a point of pride and the truly humiliating ones eventually settled into something sort of like mundanity. Amusing tales became nothing more than yet another name, a stitched moniker, an email signature. The point was: by the time they made it to the special forces, and especially once they were assigned to a task force, no one gave a shit about their call signs anymore.
Whenever Soap heard his call sign, whenever anyone asked after its origins, he laughed it off, citing his ability to clean house or, more flirtatiously, his ability to clean up after himself, but he always internally cringed.
No one ever noticed. No one except for Ghost.
He never said anything, never asked about it, which Johnny was thankful for, but he was infinitely more thankful that Ghost took every opportunity to call him literally anything else. Sergeant, at first, then Johnny. MacTavish, if he was mad; any other combination of insults if he wasn't, because they both knew he never really meant them. Sunshine, sometimes, in the mornings when Soap stumbled out of bed in whatever safe house they were staying in, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. Scottish Bastard, or Our Johnny, or Pyromaniac, or Lad. Rarely Soap.
It was in his file, Johnny knew, the file that Ghost had read cover to cover, too paranoid to blindly trust Price's judgment with a new team member. Evidently, he hadn't made the connection between the incident report nestled in the sheaves of paper and Johnny's embarrassment. More likely, he just didn't care. Johnny wasn't sure which option he preferred.
Johnny had always had an issue with authority, and joining the military had done nothing to quell his rebellious streak; he was still a teenager, fresh out of basic, barely legal, the first time it happened. His sergeant had been giving him eyes for the entire two months since he'd joined, and Johnny'd be lying if he said he hadn't pushed himself just a little harder in response to the attention. The night of graduation found Johnny in the sergeant's bed, taking everything he was given and begging for more.
He hadn't seen that sergeant again after that, but it had more to do with Johnny's SAS training than anything else, and it started a bad habit. Nearly every unit he joined, he eventually ended up in his superior's bed. It was all consensual, and Johnny would be willing to attest to it if need be, but he never got caught, and he moved from unit to unit so often that it never really mattered.
Until it did.
Two years out of basic, about halfway through his SAS training, he got caught. Rather, they got caught. They were in the showers, his lieutenant pressing him against the tile wall, when their captain had walked in. The implications were clear, especially with Johnny on the receiving end, and the lieutenant had gotten discharged, despite Johnny's protestations. It had been his idea, but it still looked like an abuse of power. Word had flown around the base, and Johnny had gotten stuck with the call sign Soap as a terrible joke; "don't drop the soap" was uttered nearly every time he entered a room, and he ended up being the youngest to pass selection largely to get away from the teasing.
Once he joined the SAS, he never saw anyone involved in the incident ever again. The incident report went in his file, but it got buried among the accolades, the outstanding test results, the exceptional service record. No one except his superior officers had the clearance to read his file, which was for the best; their knowledge of his bad habit kept him from indulging, and he hadn't looked at another superior officer the same way since.
Until Ghost. Who called him Johnny, not Soap. Who tolerated and even encouraged his flirting. Who knew every detail of his file but never pushed for more.
Whenever Johnny got too close to a line, Ghost would switch back to Soap, just once, just enough to nudge him back a step, but he was never cruel. It was a slap on the wrist, not a sharp reprimand, and Johnny had learned enough about Ghost's tone and eyes to see the switch for what it was: a gentle warning, a clearly expressed boundary.
And then one of their missions went to shit, and Johnny ended up in the hospital for months, and Ghost stopped calling him Soap altogether. In the aftermath, Johnny danced closer and closer, always expecting his cautionary call sign to fall from Ghost's lips, but it never did. On and off the field, Ghost simply watched Johnny get closer, stopped holding him at arm's length. He started welcoming his flirting, started actively encouraging him, started reciprocating.
The first time they fell into bed together, something panicked fluttered in Johnny's chest. He'd been here before; he'd gotten a lieutenant wrongfully dishonorably discharged before, for nothing more than the very act that he and Ghost had been dancing around for years. The moment before their lips met, he backpedaled sharply, only to be caught by the rigid warmth of Ghost's arms.
Ghost knew. Ghost knew his past, knew his record, knew what he'd been walking into. Ghost didn't care.
Price knew. Price knew his past, knew his penchant for gravitating towards authority, and still had placed him within Ghost's grasp time and time again. Price didn't care.
And Gaz... well, Gaz was Johnny's biggest enabler. Gaz didn't care.
So he let himself take the final step, the leap of faith, and landed safely in Ghost's hold, in Ghost's bed, and in Ghost's life. Loved, satisfied, and most importantly, protected. Safe.
And if he started wearing his call sign like a badge of honor for the first time in his life... well, he was sleeping with a superior officer, and he wasn't ashamed of it anymore. Whenever Ghost looked at him, reverent, bordering on worshipful, Soap couldn't find it within himself to feel a single ounce of embarrassment over his name.
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heartysworld · 3 months
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There he goes || Max Verstappen x Reader
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A/N: Some TikTok edits I've seen today made me extremely emotional and have me inspiration to write this one (alongside the poll vote). Hopefully you are going to enjoy this one as much as I did while writing it.
W. C.' 2k
MASTERLIST
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!💝
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"Love, are you ready?" You called for your husband as your whole family got ready to leave for the paddock.
"Yes, yes. Almost ready. I just can't find Alina's hat. Babe have you seen it? We can't leave without it,she needs it to go out!" Max protested as he appeared through the door of your bedroom, a baby carrier strapped onto his chest with your daughter nestled comfortablt in it.
The sight nearly caused you to faint. Seeing the love of your life being a dad,a girl dad more specifically, was something you'd never imagined.
"I think believe this is what you're looking for?" You said as you spun around, handinf Max a tiny pink bucket hat that matched the one poking out of the baby carried strapped to your body. At that moment,a quiet gurgle was heard,causing you to look downwards, meeting the blue eyes of your other angel, Emilia.
"Did mommy wake you up, angel. I'm sorry about that." You mumbled, leaning down to kiss your daughters forehead which caused a toothless smile to appear on her face.
"Well that's certainly a sight I'd never get tired of seeing." Max said, taking the hat from your hand, placing it on top of Alina's head as the little girl squealed at the sight of the pink material.
The bright smile on your husband's face couldn't compare to a sky full of stars. Every time on of your daughters laughed or even barely smiled, a grin that reached his ears would find it's way on his face.
Your silence didn't go unnoticed as you soon felt a warm hand take a hold of yours. Max watched you as if he could see the wheels in your head turn.
"You alright?" He asked as the palm of his hand wend up and down the lenght of your arm. You smiled before answering.
"I love watching you be a dad, so much." Your simple answer made Max laugh before his lips captured yours in a sweet kiss. One that was worth thousands of words.
" I wouldn't have had the chance of being a dad if it wasn't for you, schatje." He whispered against your lips,smiling. He continued, " I love you, and you, so much." Max added kissing the twins', heads or at least as much as he could reach.
The cute family moment, however, was soon interrupted by a loud whine from between the two of you. Apparently Emilia couldn't handle staying inside the apartment any longer, demanding cuddles from all those who excitedly awaited hers and her sister's arrival at the Monaco paddock.
"Okay everyone, let's go before we get another diaper bomb." Max said as he ushered his family out of the door.
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The place was alread bursting at the seams when you arrived. Photographers and reporters awaiting the arrival of the newly-expanded Verstappen family. Somehow,a week ago or so, word got out that Max Verstappen was planning on bringing his twin baby girls to the Monaco track.
The media went absolutely mental as they haven't got any details on the twin girls you and Max welcomed during the winter break. The only thing known to the world was the date on which they were born,nothing else,not even a glimpse.
Some of Max's closest friends from the race industry have had the chance to meet your babies. The two capturing the hearts of everyone the moment their big blue eyes found a new face they haven't seen before.
When Max brought up the idea of taking the girls to a race you had your concerns. However, you knew how big of a role being an F1 driver had in his life, you agreed. The media would always find a way to expose your children to the world,so it was better for everyone if you and your husband did it first.
That's how you two found yourselves walking around with two babies and two bags that contained everything they would need while their father was out on the track racing. No matter how much you tried to find another way to bring the girls in Max insisted on the baby carriers where the two would he safe and sound right next to their mom and dad. And if the paps got too close, he could always tell them off shamelessly for disturbing his family.
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" So Max, another incredible race today! Does this have anything to do with the special guests you have with you today,watching from the Red Bull garage?" A reporter asked. It was no doubt everyone was waiting for their chance to ask this question.
" Well, it's nothing new, the incredible race part. " Max said, causing everyone around to laugh loudly. "However, knowing that my daughters and my wife are here today definitely brought out a side of me I'd never seen before. I told my wife earlier that if I win today I'm going to dedicate my success and motivation to them." A few awes were heard behind camera causing Lando, who had finished 2nd today, to have the same reaction to his friend talking about being a dad.
" And how does it feel like being a dad and a Formula 1 driver at the same time? Surely there must be some difficulties balancing such important roles as these." Another reporter asked. Everyone could tell this was becoming a Max interview rather than a post-race conference. This time, however, no one had any objections.
"Oh yes definitely. No matter how hard you try to be there for every important milestone in their lives there's always this thought at the back of your head if you're doing both things well enough. My wife has been a constant pillar of support for me during the past six months. I couldn't have done both without her." Max said as the thought of your smiling face when you hear his words popped up in his mind.
"And what are the names of the two princesses that stole everyone's hearts today? If that is not too personal." A female reporter said, a note of hesitance detectable in her tone. As cooperative as Max was, the moment he felt someone was digging too deep he would cut them off without a second thought.
"Their names are Alina and Emila. We wanted to name them something that represents their importance in our lives so these names felt perfect the moment we combined them together." There was no denying that Emilia was named after her father. However, the name itself has other meanings, like "to excel, to strive.
This represented her own struggle before she was even born into this world. She was the smaller of the two who had to compete with her sister until her existence was discovered. Alina was the light of your life for the first half of your pregnancy when you weren't yet aware that you were carrying twins. By simply laying comfortably inside your stomach she brought a ton of new emotions and memories into your and Max's life every single day.
The day you discovered you were having twins is still embedded deeply into your brain alongside Max's reaction to the news. That day, he promised to do everything in his power to protect them from the unfair and cruel world they were about to be introduced into, and when Max Verstappen sets his mind onto something, he gets the job done.
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Reblogs and Feedback are greatly appreciated! 💝
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doumadono · 2 months
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Katsuki and Reader as Academic rivals/enemies during their college years but is actually messing around behind close doors. For sinful sunday!!<3
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Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, fem!reader, rough oral (f receiving), fingering, pro hero Bakugo
A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!
SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II
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"You're late," Bakugo growls, his voice edged with impatience as he glares at you from the doorway.
You smirk, brushing past him. "Didn't know the great Dynamight had a bedtime like a preschooler."
"Shut up," he snaps as he closes the door behind you. "You know I don't like waiting."
"And yet here we are," you retort, throwing your bag on his couch with a casual toss. 
The apartment is spacious, minimalist in its decor, with a few hints of Bakugo's personality — trophies from his hero work, a stack of fitness magazines, and a well-worn punching bag in the corner.
"Still can't believe we're doing this," he mutters, following you into the living room.
"Which part?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "The studying, or the fact that we're doing it together?"
Bakugo's scowl deepens. "Both."
You laugh, settling into the couch and pulling out your notes. "Just like old times, huh? Except now we're not stuck in that cramped library."
He huffs, flopping down beside you. "Yeah, but you still haven't gotten any less annoying."
"And you haven't gotten any less competitive," you shoot back, your eyes meeting his. There's a spark there, the same one that always flared when the two of you clashed in college. 
You and Bakugo had been academic rivals since your first year at UA High School. Both fiercely competitive and driven, you clashed in every class, constantly trying to outdo each other in hero training exercises and exams. The rivalry continued into college, where you found yourselves in the same courses, your mutual determination pushing you to excel. 
Despite the animosity, there was an undeniable chemistry between you, a spark that neither of you acknowledged but both felt deeply. 
Now, years later, with Bakugo as a top Pro Hero and you excelling in your own career, the competitive fire still burns. Especially when the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight fails yet another mandatory training session assigned to him by the Hero Commission.
Bakugo grabs a stack of papers, his fingers brushing against yours accidentally. 
The contact sends a jolt through you, and you pull back, trying to focus on the task at hand. 
"So, where were we?" he asks, his voice a little rougher.
"Here," you say, pointing to a highlighted section. "The analysis of hero efficiency metrics. You were going to show me how you applied it to your latest mission."
He nods, leaning closer. The heat from his body is distracting, and you find it hard to concentrate as he explains the data. His voice is low, the words rolling over you as you watch the way his lips move, the intensity in his eyes.
"...and that's how I optimized the response time," he finishes, looking up at you expectantly.
You blink, realizing you've barely absorbed a word. "Right. Makes sense."
He narrows his eyes. "You're not even listening, are ya, Y/N?"
"I am!" you protest, but he doesn't buy it.
"Prove it," he challenges, leaning even closer. "Explain it back to me."
Your mind races, trying to piece together what he said, but all you can think about is how close he is, the smell of his cologne, the way his breath brushes against your skin. "I, um..."
His smirk is infuriating. "Thought so, smartass."
"You're impossible," you mutter, but there's no heat in your words.
"And you're distracted," he counters. "Wonder why that is."
You glare at him, but he's right. "Maybe it's because you're in my personal space," you say, but even as you say it, you don't move away.
"Maybe you like it," he shoots back, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you close the gap, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that's more a battle than a caress. It's messy, desperate, and full of the same fire that always ignited when you were around each other.
Bakugo responds instantly, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours, it's everything you've been denying yourself for years. 
You break apart, both of you breathing hard. "This doesn't change anything," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have…”
He smirks, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips. "No, it doesn't. But it sure as hell makes things more interesting."
You laugh, a breathless sound that turns into a moan as he captures your mouth again. 
This time, there's no hesitation, no holding back. The kiss is fierce, and you can feel the same hunger in him that burns in you.
Bakugo pulls you onto his lap, his hands roaming your back as he presses you closer. The feel of his hard muscles against you, the heat of his skin, it's all intoxicating. 
You grind against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat.
"God, you're so fucking impatient," he mutters against your lips, but his hands are gentle as they slip under your shirt, exploring the skin beneath.
"You love it," you tease, arching into his touch.
"Maybe I do," he admits, his voice rough with desire. "But don't think this means you've won."
"Wouldn't dream of it," you reply, your hands busy unbuttoning his shirt. 
His shirt comes off in a tangle of limbs and fabric, neither of you willing to break the kiss for more than a few seconds.  
You trail kisses down his neck, savoring the way he shudders beneath you.
Bakugo flips you onto your back, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks down at you. "You're still a pain in my ass," he growls. His body presses you into the mattress, the weight of him a delicious reminder of his strength and power. 
You feel his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until he pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. His mouth is on you instantly, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the swell of your breasts.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. 
You arch into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as you hold him close. 
He groans in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently.
You can feel yourself growing wetter.
"Fuck," he mutters, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and moving to the other one. His free hand roams lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With a rough tug, he pulls them down.
“Bakugo,” you basically growl at him, demanding his attention.
"Patience," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Good things come to those who wait."
But you're beyond waiting. You need him now. You reach down and grab his hand, guiding it to where you're aching for him - right between the thighs you willingly part just for him.
Bakugo's fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties, watching as your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.
"Do you like that, baby?" he growls in your ear, his voice low and husky.
You nod, biting your lip as he continues to rub you through the thin fabric. You’re so wet already, he can feel it seeping through your panties and onto his fingers.
Bakugo grins, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down your parted legs. 
You lift your hips to help him, and soon you’re lying naked before him.
He takes a moment to admire the sight of you, spread out on the couch like a feast. Your skin is soft and smooth, your breasts are full and round, and your pussy is glistening with wetness, just for him.
His fingers slip inside you easily. You’re oh so tight, he can feel your muscles clenching around his digits as he moves them in and out. "Fuck, you feel so good," he praises, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.
"Fuck," you breathe, your hips bucking involuntarily. "Yes, just like that."
Bakugo's fingers curl inside you, hitting all the right spots. 
You can feel yourself already getting closer, your body tensing with each stroke. And then, just as you think you can't take it any longer, he stops.
You whimper in protest, but he just smirks. 
"Not yet," he says. "I want to taste you first."
Before you can react, he's sliding down your body, his mouth hot and wet on your inner thigh. 
You moan as he kisses and licks his way closer to your mound, your whole body trembling with anticipation.
And then, finally, his tongue is on your clit, teasing and flicking in a way that makes your whole body shudder. You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the slick slide of his tongue. It's obscene and you can't get enough of it. You buck your hips, grinding against his face as he devours you.
"Oh god, Bakugo," you moan, your voice hoarse. "I'm going to come."
He just hums in response, his tongue working harder, faster. He uses his thumb to roll your clitty in a circle, pushing the upper portion of your outer lips aside. As Bakugo plays with your little, swollen pearl, your lower lips begin to glisten, then open, and after a longer moment of playing while your breathing quickens, a thin string of crystalized dew falls from your juicy pink slit.
“Just like that, just like that!” you are a moaning mess beneath him.
“Holy fucking shit,” he growls lowly, watching your body writhe, feeling the intense strain as his sweatpants become painfully tight. Bakugo doesn't stop, though. He keeps licking and sucking. He licks up through your soft folds like a dog, lapping at your cunny juices as if his life depends on it. He then curls and straightens his calloused fingers several times, petting the underside of your mound from within. “Cum for me, I wanna see you cumming hard for me,” Bakugo commands.
Your clit throbs in his mouth as he sucks the little pearl in, finger-fucking your slick, drenched pussy.
A high pitched whimper cuts off your words. Your stomach heaves, your ass shakes, and you feed Bakugo your muff with a sexy, up and down grinding motion that runs your pussy all over his slightly unshaven face. You tighten your grip on his ash-blonde hair and pull him against your pussy, mashing your clit between his tongue and your own pubic bone.
Finally, Katsuki pulls away, his face glistening with your juices.
"Fuck," you breathe, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "That was incredible."
Bakugo just grins, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome," he says. Bakugo licks and kisses his way up your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply before pulling back. "You know this doesn't mean I'm ever going to go easy on you," he says, grinding his crotch against your slick folds.
The unmistakable hardness pressing against you is making you acutely aware of how hard he is — how hard you've made him just with your moans and pussy.
You wrap your arms around his neck. "Yeah, I know. But quit this shit now and fuck me like I know you've always wanted to."
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punkshort · 7 months
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somewhere to run | 10. austin
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex
WC: 6.6K
A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)
Series Masterlist
One Month Later
Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.
The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.
The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.
The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.
The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.
She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.
"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.
"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Oh?"
"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"
"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.
"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."
"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.
"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"
"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."
"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.
"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."
You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.
For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.
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"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."
"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.
"Alone?"
You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.
"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.
"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."
"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."
"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.
"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.
This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.
"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.
"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.
"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.
"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.
"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."
"Right," you said, biting your nail.
"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."
"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.
"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."
"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.
"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."
"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"
"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.
"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."
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You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.
Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.
"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.
The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.
"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.
"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.
"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"
"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.
"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.
Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.
You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.
"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.
"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.
"You from 'round here?"
"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.
"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.
"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.
"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.
"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.
"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.
"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.
"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.
"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.
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"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.
"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.
"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.
Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.
"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.
"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.
"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.
Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.
After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.
"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?
"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.
"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.
"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.
"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.
"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.
Okay, so probably not an ex.
"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."
"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"
"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.
"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.
"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.
You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.
By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.
"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.
"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.
"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.
"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."
"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.
"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.
"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."
"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.
"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.
"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.
"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"
"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"
"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.
"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."
You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.
"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"
"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.
"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.
"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."
"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.
You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.
As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.
"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.
"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.
"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.
"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.
"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"
You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.
"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.
As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.
Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.
You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.
"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.
"Can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm drivin'."
"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.
"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.
Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.
"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.
He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.
Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.
Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.
"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."
"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."
He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.
"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.
You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.
He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.
"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.
"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.
"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.
"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.
You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.
"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.
"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.
"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.
"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.
"I know."
You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.
"Thank you, Joel."
"You're welcome, baby."
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As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.
You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.
"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.
"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."
"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.
"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.
"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"
"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.
"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.
"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.
"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"
"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"
"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."
"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.
"Happy?"
"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.
Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.
The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.
"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."
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mythica-ithaca · 2 months
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the fact that I see some of y'all posting more about how important it is to vote for Biden than you ever have about Palestine just shows that you fucking "vote blue no matter who" people genuinely don't give a fuck about anyone but yourselves.
you only choose to speak up when YOUR hypothetical rights are threatened. you love to fear monger about how much hypothetically worse it would be under trump than acknowledge the actual atrocities that Biden is committing and condoning every single day. how exactly is he the "lesser" of two evils for?
do any of you actually look at the images coming out of gaza, or are you too fucking ~triggered~ to fully acknowledge other peoples suffering rather than your own. have you seen the video that came out recently of the little boy whose brain is exposed, about to be laid next to his dead family members, only to twitch and seize in his fathers arms as he screams and runs in horror to find a doctor, because his son is alive. his brain is literally falling out of his skull but he is still alive. that is one brief example of the most horrific shit you've ever seen in your life coming out daily for almost a year. how on this earth can you watch that and possibly claim that Biden is in any way shape or form "less" evil.
instead of demanding that the dnc force a different candidate, you're trying to guilt trip people who have actually seen the mutilated bodies of children on their timelines every single day and watched the press briefings of bidens administration denying genocide and defending Israel at the expense of literally everything else for the last 8 months, into voting for a man who supports it 100% and has not and will not be convinced otherwise.
this is where allowing them to push widely unpopular and centrist candidates has gotten us. it didn't work with Hillary in 2016. it BARELY worked in 2020. and hate to break it to you, but its probably not going to work again. so congrats. your "vote blue no matter who" rhetoric has got them thinking that they can push the most right leaning liberals on us and think that we'll vote for them just because they're in a blue tie instead of a red one.
if you care about democracy like you say you do, then the Democrats should be fucking TERRIFIED that you won't vote for them if they don't deliver. not constantly reassured that they can commit literal fucking genocide and still get your votes if they dangle abortion rights over your heads. you realize they see those posts too right? the ones that say "Yes! protest vote in the primary but make sure to actually vote for the guy in the general!!" like. you are literally telling them how performative your activism is.
if every election at this point is the one where democracy is on the line then we are already fucked. if they don't get it through their heads now that we will not support this shit, then every election to come will be between a fascist and a fascist who cares slightly less about whether gay people get married or not. but that's all you care about right? as long as your domestic policy is in your favor then the rest of the world can suffer at your tax dollars.
this isn't about morality voting. this is about recognizing that there is not actually a "lesser" of two evils in this situation, just because you think that the causes that you personally care about will be less affected one way or the other. because what if it was abortion rights? what catholic Joe Biden was firmly against abortion and was threatening to ban it completely and throw anyone getting or giving one in prison for murder. what if it was videos of lgbt people being slaughtered coming out every single day for a year. genuinely fucking ask yourself if you'd still be saying "vote blue no matter who" and that he's the "lesser" of two evils.
vote for whoever the fuck you want. and I do genuinely urge you to vote for the most progressive candidate you can for the house and senate and your local elections. but for the love of god, stop trying to convince people that there is, in any sense of the word, a "Lesser" evil in this situation. stop trying to absolve yourselves of the fact that you are CHOOSING evil. it's genuinely sick.
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strnilolo · 10 months
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clumsy girl
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summary: matt’s girlfriend is rather clumsy.
warnings: cursing, use of y/n, kisses kinda, jokes about death, idk what else. lowercase intentional
an: i kinda don’t like this one guys. BUT this won the vote so ask and you shall receive.
an2: i do have some requests guys and im very sorry that i haven’t gotten to them, its just hard for me to get motivated unless i have a really good idea for a fic and can play it out in my head. but i will be working on requests i promise.
|navigation|
you and matt are sat on the couch together, aimlessly scrolling through your phones. matt leans his head on your shoulder before giggling slightly, sitting upright next to you.
“look at this video, isn’t this funny?” matt moves his phone in front of you, scrolling to restart the video.
you watch as different clips cut across the screen, laughing lightly to yourself. the video had been a compilation of matt saving you from falling, hitting your head, hurting yourself, etc.
“you’re so clumsy, huh? always need me to save you” matt smirks at your annoyed expression.
“i am not that clumsy, matthew, you’ve probably tripped and fallen more times than me” you roll your eyes as you sit back against your teasing boyfriend.
“well.. what about that one time at dinner, or the time you almost tripped up the stairs?”
matt went on and on about the different times he was your ‘knight in shining armor.’
two months ago
“okay guys now we’re going to be decorating the cupcakes and our lovely mother is going to be trying them and rating them 1-10” you listened patiently as nick loudly addressed the camera, informing the viewers of our next step.
“oh shit” your tube of icing dropped onto the floor right as the clip began rolling. you quickly bend to the side to grab the tube as matt reached his hand to cover the corner of the table, protecting your head from bashing into it. sitting up, you thank matt for his help before continuing to decorate your cupcake.
currently
“oh my god, i actually do remember that. people were making edits for weeks” the two of you laughed at the fond memory, before matt began to speak again.
“do you remember the time you almost fell down the stairs during our house tour?”
“oh please don’t remind me” groaning at the embarrassing image in your head.
several months earlier
“okay so now y/n is going to lead us upstairs to the room we share” matt followed behind you, talking to the camera as the vlog went on.
“oh fuck!” you grip onto the railing, feeling yourself slip on the wooden staircase.
“jesus y/n-” you feel matt’s hand on your back, steadying you on the stairs before he releases his grip, allowing you to continue up.
“you have got to be more careful, you could’ve killed us all” nick laughs from behind matt, dramatically grasping onto the rail.
“whatever, thanks matt” you smile at the boy, playfully rolling your eyes.
“okay guys so we made it upstairs, barely, now to show you where i sleep” matt faces the camera towards you as the four of you continue to vlog a tour of your shared living space.
currently
“jesus, that was embarrassing” you cover your face with your hands in attempt to hide your blush.
“no it wasn’t, you just don’t want the world to see that you’d die without me” matt pulls your hands from your face, playfully placing kisses around your forehead and cheeks.
“i guess i would die without you, huh?”
“a very painfully and stupid death, yes” the two of you laugh at the memories, enjoying the little amount of quality time you’re able to get.
| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated|
| 🏷️ @strniolosworld @bananabread-nana @abbie13sworld @mxqdii |
ps i do not consent to my work being stolen, translated, or posted on any other website without my permission
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eveninggstar · 9 months
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First Tattoo
Summary: Jake, your boyfriend, surprises you in a video to get your first ever tattoo.
Warnings: y/n used twice (sorry), horrible tattoo terminology, needles(?), fluff, no kissing(sorry ;( ), reader intended to be female
A/N l: Why is there barely any jake ff anywhere, like i even looked on wattpad. So enjoy, this could also be seen as a platonic thing ig between reader and jake except the end enjoy :)
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
“Please excuse my appearance,” Jake gestured to himself as he looked at the dashboard with the camera on top, with his arm draped over the wheel. “i didn’t have long, but that fine.” his voice went up as he put his hands out in an act of faux desperation.
The camera cut to him shaking a hand through his hair, attempting to style it. He paused and went to kiss the camera, then snapped out of it. “Sorry, sorry.” He put his hands up in surrender.
“Anyways,” he clapped his hands together. “Today, i’m getting a new tattoo and my girlfriend is getting one too. And y/n.” he giggled with his lips shut as he put a hand in front. “They’re actually taking forever, what the hell.” he leant forwards to look out the window for you and Johnnie. With the lack of the two of you, he sighed into the camera and lifted it and quickly left his car.
“Honestlay, mama bear ain’t happay with theyse two rascals.” He spoke in a southern accent and he walked back into the house. He walked into the house, hearing heavy footsteps and yelling. He made a scared confused face that slowly moulded into a smile.
“Johnnie! What do i wear?” You were yelling at the door of Johnnie’s room jumping up and down.
“I don’t know! Pink? You like pink!” Johnnie yelled back and joined you in jumping up and down. You two were smiling as you just continued to jump, you still in pyjamas and Johnnie with only one eye with his makeup finished.
“Guys!” Jake pointed a camera at you and Johnnie, both of you stop bouncing as slowly turned towards the camera.
“Ew! No, i’m not wearing makeup!” You ran off into your room with your hand covering your face and the other holding onto your messy bun.
Jake tilted the camera away from you as you ran into your room and focussed it on Johnnie. Johnnie just had a thousand mile stare as he slowly shut his bedroom door. Jake put himself back into frame and started singing, “Alone again~,”
The video cut to the three of you, ready, in Jake’s car. You had ultimately decided to wear a pink love heart halter neck top, clashing with both Jake and Johnnie’s outfits’ but in a cute way.
“What are we even doing?” You asked as you leant forwards through the front seats.
“Yeah, you kinda just woke me up this morning and started vigorously shaking me.” Johnnie looked at Jake then looked back to the camera.
“We’re getting tattoos!” Jake exclaimed into the camera accompanied with a wide, open mouthed smile and ‘happy hands’ in front of him. Johnnie reciprocated Jake’s ecstatic energy and you just looked scared at the camera.
“Wait, are you serious?” you looked pleadingly at Jake, terrified of the fact if you were actually getting a tattoo. He turned to look at you in the back seat, smiling and nodding.
The video cut to the three of you outside the tattoo parlour that Jake and Johnnie frequented a lot. Jake had sweet talked his way into you getting a tattoo, as usual. He had said it didn’t need to be big, a singular dot if you really wanted. You said to him that you would only get one if he got a matching one, wanting it to have a form of sentimental value.
“So, who’s going first?” Jake asked, both him and Johnnie turned to look at you. “The votes are in, y/n will go first.”
“Hold my hand during it?” you gave up on protesting, knowing Jake will just talk you out of it.
“Of course!” he smiled and pulled an arm around your shoulders as you walked into the parlour.
(i have no idea how tattoos work so just bare with please :) )
Sitting on the tattoo bench(?) you explained what you had wanted to the tattoo artist, just a simple red outline of a small heart on your hip. The camera was positioned over your head to see the expressions you were about to express. Jake was at your side with both hands wrapped tightly against one of yours, whilst Johnnie was looking at what to get for himself.
“Okay, i’m going to do a quick zap just so you can feel what it will feel like.” The woman explained sweetly to you, obviously seeing your frightened expression. “If you want a break at any point, just say and i’ll pull the gun off,” she looked into your eyes as you nodded, “Would you like me to count down?”
“Yes please,” you smiled at her consideration. You closed your eyes and waited for the fateful number one and the inevitable pain that would accompany it. Your face was scrunched up and you had a tight hold on Jake’s hands’.
When she said one, all you felt were a couple of deep scratches. The pain was there, but it was bearable. You face loosened up, still accompanied by the occasional hiss, as she did your simple tattoo. Then, she was done.
You had reciprocated the kindness and warmth that he had given you, when he was getting the actual tattoo he came in for that was by far more detailed than the small heart the both of you got. By the end, you were feeling good about the tattoo and that Jake had the idea of getting one.
The video cut for the final time, showing the three of you again in the same seating arrangement a couple hours prior. “So,” Jake said whilst clapping his hands once, “How do we like the tattoos?”
“Omg, i love mine! Im definitely getting more.” You smiled into the camera, having a definite change in your attitude towards getting a tattoo. As Jake looked back at you practically buzzing out of your seat as you explained more that you wanted to get, he had a fond smile on his face.
997 words
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cheolhub · 2 years
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DREAMS, FAIRYTALES, FANTASIES — CHOI YEONJUN + CHOI SOOBIN ࿐
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summary. ever the unconventional gift giver, yeonjun would rather give you something memorable for valentine’s day. what better gift than his smoking hot best friend?
wc. 2.67k
warnings. threesome! oral (m. receiving), light degradation (use of slut & stupid), heavy praise, heavy pet name use (baby, pretty, princess), shy!soobin <3, needy f!reader, teasing dom!jun, unprotected sex, creampie, facial — MINORS DNI 18+
note. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY LOVES!! to everyone who voted in the poll for the yeonbinnie 3way, here it is ! i hope u enjoy it <3 kisses 4 u all 💋
p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3
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most boyfriends get their significant others chocolates for valentine’s day. maybe jewelry or roses or even a nice book, but yeonjun isn’t like most boyfriends. no, yeonjun is unlike any other man you’ve ever dated. he doesn’t want to gift you flowers that would die within days or shitty chocolates that make your tummy hurt– no. yeonjun wants to grant you memorable experiences. ones that’ll make you happy. ones that you’ll definitely remember. he wants all your dreams and fantasies to come true.
so if not chocolate and flowers… what does yeonjun gift you?
his best friend. choi soobin. 
he remembers the first time yeonjun introduced you to him and his other best friends vividly– like it was yesterday. to soobin, you were shy and so cute. just his type. but he started noticing small changes in your behavior every time he saw you. 
he noticed the moment things took off in your relationship with yeonjun. he’d only ever observed from afar, but he could just tell yeonjun was becoming more and more intimate with you as the weeks past; he just knew his best friend was corrupting you, the sweet girl he’d so desperately craved. you had gone from innocently twiddling with your thumbs and blushing to showing small acts of public affection to not-so-quietly begging yeonjun to fuck you in the car away from the guys because you couldn’t handle being empty for longer than a few hours. you turned into such an insatiable little thing, all yeonjun’s doing, of course– soobin knew that for sure. 
but yeonjun also noticed soobin’s desire from the get-go. soobin could barely hold eye contact with you and he’d blush every time you’d giggle or whine or tease– hell, you just needed to breathe in his direction and soobin’s all red in the face. 
once yeonjun knew you were completely comfortable in your relationship, he started implementing things he knew you’d love. i.e. toys, degrading names, and other people. other people being none other than the choi soobin. the soobin he knows you drool over and ramble about from time to time. all he had to do was talk to you. 
he did, and just as he suspected– you were all in. of course you were, he could tell from the second the question slipped his lips. 
he’d asked you weeks prior to valentine’s day. honestly… you barely remember the conversation. blood quickly rushed to your head and core when he suggested adding him to the mix for just a night. you remember the way you bit back a moan at the thought of his tall, broad, undeniably handsome best friend fucking you with a cock you just knew was huge. you remember trying to mask how turned on you got at the idea of it all– the both of them at the same time– and ended up shifting in your seat, nearly grinding your wet cunt against your sofa. you remember yeonjun fucking you on the very same sofa not long after you agreed, calling you a needy slut for wanting two cocks and for nearly cumming untouched over the idea of soobin fucking you.
so, yes, the conversation was a blur, but you do remember agreeing.
you still found yourself very surprised when yeonjun showed up at your apartment on valentine’s day with soobin trailing awkwardly behind him.
“happy valentine’s day, princess,” yeonjun smiles beautifully and your heart flutters at his unbelievable charm. “brought soobin over since he was all alone, hope that’s okay?” he knew it was one hundred and ten percent okay, but he loves hearing your verbal responses. especially in times like these where he knows you’re needy and excited to be ravished by him– by him and soobin now.
soobin feels his pants tighten at the sight of you. he wonders if there’s anything under your hoodie. or if there’s anything past your cute little shorts. he thinks about the silky material being soaked by your folds. how wet you could be. how much prep it would take to fit inside your pussy and– god, what do you feel like? will you wrap around him like he’s dreamed? will you milk him for what he’s worth? fuck– he needs to stop. he’ll cum before you could even be within arm's length of him if he doesn’t.
“y-yeah…” you blush and soobin can’t help but think back to when he first met you and how you were acting the same way then. cute and shy. “hi, ‘binnie,” you walk up to him to give him a quick, friendly hug. 
the height difference has his hard-on pressing into your tummy and his breath hitches, but so does yours. he’s fucking huge. in more ways than one. yeonjun just smiles while watching this unfold, his best friend and his girlfriend exchanging greetings… if they could even be called that. 
he stuttered, looking down into your eyes, “h-hi.” you smell so fucking good to him. 
“hi,” you parrot, mind forgetting that you already said that. you can’t seem to rid the memory of his cock though. even through his pants, you could feel the shape, the size, the perfection of it all. 
yeonjun stifles a laugh and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and the mini-staring contest you didn’t realize you were having with him. “baby?”
your voice comes out thick, dry, “yeah?” you turn to see a cheeky smile spread across his face. 
“you wanna go to your room ‘n wait for us?” he asks but you see in his face he’s not really asking, he’s telling you. you nod, padding over to your shared room to wait for the boys. your boys. 
only then do you realize how lucky you are to have yeonjun and not only that but have him so willing to share you with his best friend of many years. then you realize again– you’re going to have both of them tonight. you’ll get to feel both of them filling you to the brim, stretching you out, making it work– making themselves fit like a glove. 
you find that soobin is a soft kisser when they finally come into your room. quite the contrast from your playful lover. you start with a peck, barely letting your mouth open out of mere shyness, but gradually, the kiss gets more and more heated. his lips are plush as they glide against yours, tongue slipping into your eager mouth. he’s letting out tiny whines while he’s heavily breathing through his nose and you see that he’s just like you– someone who easily gets worked up by a little makeout session. 
yeonjun smiles, watching the two of you. he grows harder in his jeans at the sight of you breaking out of your bashfulness and reverting back to your needy self as you are with him. with your arms wrapped around soobin’s neck, you move to straddle him and his large hands laid flat against your back, pulling you deeper into him. 
when you finally break from the kiss and blush at your current position, noticing the way your half-covered cunt is just above his clothed bulge. your eyes quickly avert to yeonjun’s, silently asking if this was okay. 
he comes to the edge of the bed where soobin sits, patting your head. “‘s all good, princess, want you to feel good, alright? make soobin feel good, too, he’s been dreaming ‘bout this a long time.” yeonjun outs soobin and he blushes furiously, sending his best friend an incredulous look.
your eyes come back to soobin, “you have?” you whisper, core aching at the thought. you’ve been dreaming about both of them for a long time, too. 
he nods his head slowly, surely embarrassed. 
you let out a sharp breath, rolling your hips against his. “i really want you to fuck me.” you murmur, dreamily sighing out your following words, “both of you.”
and that’s how you ended up in your current position on your knees with your ass raised in between yeonjun’s legs.
“don’t be so gentle, soobin, she can handle it,” yeonjun grunts, hands tangled in your hair, gently tugging at the strands between his fingers. “isn’t that right, beautiful?” 
you hum, looking up at your handsome boyfriend through your wet lashes, attempting to nod your head. he looks so good back pressed against your headboard while you reside in between his legs, but you know he thinks the same of you, if not more. your mouth is full of his cock, hands splayed over the top of his thighs as your pretty, painted nails dig into the muscles causing a delicious sting for your masochistic yeonjun. 
soobin was so nervous when you asked him to fuck you. not only fuck you but fuck you raw– promising all will be well with your overly needy and whiny voice. eventually, he couldn’t resist, the offer being too good to pass up. 
you were drooling from the second he showed you his pretty, flushed cock to when he pushed into your tight, dripping hole to now. he’s taking yeonjun’s words into consideration before slamming into you harder much like he’s been deprived of pussy. 
your face scrunches up in pleasure as you choke over your boyfriend's cock. said boyfriend moans out loudly, “that’s it, baby, is binnie making you feel good?”
you pull off him, gasping and eyes screwing shut, “yes! yes, binnie, you’re making me feel so good!” you praise soobin and his grip on your waist tightens. 
yeonjun pushes you back onto his length, thrusting at a nice pace into your mouth concurrently muffling your moans and whines. his grip on your hair tightens and his eyes nearly roll back– your mouth is always so fucking good to him. 
“such a perfect little slut, taking me ‘n soobin so well, baby– fuck, so so well.” he groans before looking to soobin. “tell her what a good girl she is, soobin.”
you clamp tightly at your lover's words, a high-pitched sound making its way out your mouth full of cock. 
soobin’s hips stutter as he feels your gummy walls contract around him, enveloping him oh-so enticingly. “s-such a good girl, Y/N– so tight ‘n pretty,” he moans breathily, fueling your ego. 
you nearly cum on the spot, digging your fingernails deeper into yeonjun’s crescent-marked thighs. you muffle out a ‘thank you’ body taking a mind of its own as you push your hips back desperately to meet his. you don’t forget about yeonjun either, letting your throat constrict around his long cock. 
yeonjun notices how the praise spurs you on, “you just love being called pretty things, don’t you?” he chuckles airly, brushing your hair out of your face and admiring the way tear streaks coat your flushed cheeks. 
“love it, junnie,” you say, taking a break from constantly gagging on your boyfriend's heaven-sent dick, replacing it with one of your hands instead. “love it s’much.”
“pretty girl,” he coos, thumb brushing against your swollen lips. “look so pretty taking it all for us.” his thumb slips past the pillowy muscle allowing your lips to warp around the digit. he basks in the way you moan, eyes trained on him. “shit, bet soobin wishes he could see you looking like a mess right now.”
soobin moans loudly at this because, god, yes, he would kill to see you right now. he would kill to see you in tears over getting fucked by him and his best friend. he would kill for the way your pussy is swallowing him whole and grasping onto him for dear life. 
mindless and unaware, soobin’s thrust grew harder, pushing deeper, tickling that spot. he feels like he may burst any moment and then he hears yeonjun say his name, causing him to halt. 
“‘s not fair that i’m the only one who gets to see her,” he says, a devilish smirk overtaking his features. his eyes divert back to yours, “on your back for him, baby, let him see what a pretty princess you are.”
you nod eagerly allowing your boyfriend to move out of the way so you can switch positions. your back hits the mattress and you finally take in soobin’s appearance. silky hair sticking to his forehead, pink lips swollen and parted, chest huffing– he looks like a dream. 
he could say the same and more about you, though. he’s sure he’s gonna fall in love with you if he stares at you for a second longer, but he’s just so mesmerized by you that he can’t tear his eyes away. you’re more than a dream, more than a fantasy– you’re a fucking real-life princess. 
“put it in me, ‘bin…” you whimper, nimble fingers moving to toy with your clit to avoid losing momentum. “please? wan’ it so bad, baby.”
soobin curses under his breath, the pet name making him twitch. now he knows he’s gonna fall in love with you. he knows it isn’t just because it’s valentine’s day.
he slips his bulbous head back into your soaked cunt, groaning when he feels you stretch to take him again. he’s gonna die, he knows it.
your eyes roll and your back arches with a whine leaving your lips. “‘binnie, ‘s so good, so so so good.” 
yeonjun snickers, “stupid girl.” he pinches your nipples, rolling the perky nubs between his fingers while soobin fucks into you eagerly. 
you gasp at the onslaught of pleasure, eyes screwed shut and a stream of moans and cries leave your mouth. to yeonjun’s surprise, you blindly grab at his cock, stroking it with your free hand. 
“fuck, baby.” your boyfriend moans out when you squeeze the girth in your contrastingly small hand. “not too fast, shit.” his words are breathy and you just wish you could open your eyes to see how gorgeous his god-crafted face looks at this moment. 
“wan’ you both to cum– fuck, please cum for me– ‘m so close.” you cry as soobin’s cock finds your sweet spot again, ramming against it with every stroke. “s-soobin! inside, please cum inside me!” you beg him, rubbing your clit faster and gripping him like a vice. 
“pretty girl.” soobin whines the pet name out and you gasp, mind fuzzing over the sound of his voice and the cute name he’s called you. “shit, ‘m cumming.”
“f-fill me up!” 
at this, soobin chokes, hips stilling as he feels himself cum. you’re suddenly filled with warmth and it practically triggers your own orgasm. the tightrope in your tummy unraveling as you coat his cock in your arousal, a near-silent scream leaving your mouth.
you lay there and he fucks you through his orgasm, the aftershocks leaving you shaking and shivering under the men as you languidly pump yeonjun’s still-hard cock. 
“junnie,” you whine, teary eyes finally opening to see how he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you. 
he grunts, “so fuckin’ cute, baby, my cute lil fucked out princess.” his rambling makes you realize he’s close just at the sight of you. he’s twitching and throbbing in your hands and you just smile nonchalantly.
“please cum on my face, baby.” you purr, regaining strength and pumping his wet length with more vigor. “make a mess on my face, junnie.” 
he moans when you stick out your tongue expectantly, sitting up on his knees and replacing your hand. he comes faster than you think, breathily calling out your name and curses. his seed shoots across your face, some of it landing on your tongue and some landing on your chest. 
the room is filled with soft pants as everyone tries to recollect themselves. after a few minutes pass, yeonjun pipes up. 
“did you like your valentine’s gift, princess?” he asks with a smug grin. 
you and soobin both laugh before you look between the two unbelievably handsome men and you give him the most honest answer you can conjure up.
“i loved it.” you whisper. “but i think it’s your turn to fuck me and soobin’s turn to watch.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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koocycle · 1 year
Text
over wine | jjk | teaser part one
↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.
over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.
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pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader
teaser word count. 2k
estimated word count. 35k+
au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.
teaser warnings. mild cursing, suggestive and mature themes
send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
series masterlist
released on thursday, july 6th 2023.
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Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.
You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull's eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or take the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.
Long story short, the man who got voted to grow the ‘’reddest tomatoes the neighborhood has ever seen’‘, is considered one of the hottest men on the block. Not like it ends there when he carries his good attitude with him no matter the day. As a beloved one who drives off to the office no matter the rush he’s in, Jungkook makes sure to slow the speed down and send a sweet wave to the elderly couple at the end of the street. After business hours, he would find lost mail in his letterbox, wrong packages at his porch, and missing kittens hidden in the trimmed bushes of his backyard. Yes, great guess; Jungkook in formal attire makes sure they find their way back to the rightful owner before it turns dark out. A smile on his face that’s sweeter than the candied apples he gifted Kim Namjoon’s 7-year-old the other day.
Yes, Jeon Jungkook from number 09 is the neighborhood’s heartthrob.
What is there not to love about your beloved Jungkook?
Perhaps his despicable wife?
‘‘You might want to lose the attitude before she comes back.’’ It is the first thing your husband says that is directed towards you, breaking the tense silence like nails scraping against a chalkboard. There’s a large gap between the both of you on the rather firm sofa and the silence you grant him does little to calm either of you down. The two-seater isn’t a very broad piece of furniture on itself, though it seems bigger when each of you is seated at the opposite arms. Glued to them like teenagers who got into a fight in the lunch cafeteria in between classes. You watch Jungkook slump down his seat in the corner of your eye, an arm resting over the edge in a way that makes his Blancpain watch shimmer prettily around his thick wrist.
‘‘Attitude?’’ You end up asking, glossed lips pursed together.
‘‘You know what I’m talking about.’’ He says flatly. Jungkook sounds like he couldn’t bother any less, but truth be told, the tight pause in his defense betrays him. His eyes fall to your folded arms and travel lower down your bare, crossed legs after. ‘‘You look like you don’t want to be here at all.” The Versace dress he got you hugs your hips just the way it’s supposed to and rides higher up your thigh with every minor movement you proceed to make. Ruby red polyester clashes with the neutrals in the room and you definitely seem like you don’t belong in such a formal setting, but fuck, he would have you bent over Mrs. Kang’s desk with your dress hunched around your waist if he weren’t supposed to be an angry fuck now.
You scoff at his foolish accusation. “Please, Jungkook,” a humorless chuckle dies down on your tongue when you can’t find it in you to fake it. “I was the one who had to beg you to clear your schedule for today’s appointment in the first place.”
“Then act like it. Don’t just sit here and sulk.” He bites like he had his response ready and set. Sharp eyes meet yours. “You’re acting like a child, pouting like it’s gonna get us anywhere. Seulgi is here to help us sort our shit out. At least let her do her damn job.”
Jungkook’s head slowly lolls to the back of the ivory-colored sofa when it’s off his chest, a puff of air leaving his lips like today’s session got him exhausted before it could even make its start. His eyes fall to a close as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The sight of it only makes the tight knot in your stomach grow and you can’t seem to tear your eyes off the heated man, a snarl on your lips you wish he’d notice.
“I told you, I want a second opinion.”
“And I told you, we’re not going through the hassle of finding another therapist when we got a fine one just under our nose.” Jungkook’s jaw tenses and he slumps down the sofa some more. “Give her time. She’s analyzing our relationship.”
His words trigger something inside you. They make you sit on the edge of your seat with heat rushing to your head, the Valentino Garavani mini bag falling off your lap and onto the cushions at the movement. “How much of an analysis does she need when we visit two times a week?” Your eyes fall on him. “Open your eyes, Kook. She always asks for my opinion and uses it against me a minute later. She is always on your side. We need a second opinion.”
“Just fucking drop it.” He mumbles to himself though he swears it’s for your own good. Also because the waiting area is only a door away and he doesn’t want to walk out of the heated office with judging eyes on him like last time. The walk of shame back to the car must have been the highlight of your visit. “I’m not gonna run around town and find you a straight, male therapist who’s blindly gonna agree with you the minute you flash him half a boob. Wasting our money like it’s nothing.”
Jungkook regrets saying that as soon as it’s out. He didn’t have to say that, he figures. Though when he’s met with silence and catches the roll of your eyes on his side, the pang of guilt disappears as soon as it came. You didn’t come here to argue here with him. Quite the opposite, considering your surroundings. Though it is getting hard to block that road when you aren’t one to bite your tongue either. “Of course you won’t. You love it when people suck on your dick.”
He should have seen that one coming. And he knows either one of you needs to stop barking back if you want to see any progress throughout your sessions with Mrs. Kang. Jungkook could be the bigger person if he wanted to be, but his egoism is rocket high. ‘’Say that again?’’
You fall to the back of the sofa as well, mirroring him with your arms crossed tight against your chest. “Seulgi is sucking you dry and you’re eating it up.” You mutter with gritted teeth. “Always picking your side, always defending you. . . you’re loving it and you can’t get enough.”
Jungkook says nothing and just listens to your quiet, angry mumbles at first. To him, you’re almost whining the words out like it’s going to get you anywhere. And maybe it would if the circumstances would be any different. If you weren’t forced to kill time in an empty office waiting for your couple’s therapist to return with your preferred coffee and biscuits. Kang Seulgi knows the deal by now; you like your spiced chai latte and he likes his shot of espresso so bitter that it sits on his tongue for the rest of the session.
He continues to watch you. Examine you, in some way. The sound of your rambling drawing out the more he loses himself in his own world. Issues roll off your tongue like you’re reading them off a long, unending list, and he feels like you’ve argued about these same things over and over again. Too many times for him to keep his focus when your breasts are pressed together so prettily in that dress.
You’ve had it for a while, Jungkook then recalls. A couple of years at most, but he remembers the day he bought it for you like it was last week. Initially, you told him no; you didn’t need him to buy you a dress for a price so ridiculous. He could buy you an extra large salmon bagel for lunch and you’d be the happiest woman in the room, is what you tried to convince him of. Though your eyes glimmered with adoration the minute you entered the store and held the designer piece in your hands. Moments after swearing you only wanted to see it up close and get a good feel. He remembers loving that glimmer in your eyes.
He wanted to see it more often, so Jeon Jungkook got you that Versace dress like it was nothing. You yelled and shrieked at him through the entire checkout and earned some nasty glances from the saleswomen, but he didn’t mind. He could take a hit from you. If a simple swipe of his card meant he’d see that look more often, then yes, Jungkook was willing to sell his soul for you.
“Are you even listening?” He doesn’t notice the corners of his lips slipping up until you tug him out of his daze. The apples of his cheeks show as quick as they die down.
“Yeah,” Jungkook groans and sits up straight. “I hear you. You’re just not making any sense, babe.”
Jungkook often finds several ways to make you roll your eyes and tighten your jaw, though he rarely makes you fume with steam blowing out of your ears.
Today is one of the days where he makes you fume with steam. He can tell by the way you avoid his eye in the hopes you won’t go all feral on him. Or how your glossed lips pettily press together, the Dior Addict lip oil one step away in your lip-combo routine from cussing him out until your voice goes hoarse.
You huff quietly, clearly holding back. “How am I not making sense? You’re not listening to a word I say.”
“I listen. You just have a hard time understanding me.”
It’s a thing you guys do, the finger-point thing. And it is something you do a lot. It’s a thing where either of you hopes that the other backs up when you point for long enough. A healthy relationship doesn’t work like that, is what Seulgi told you during your last session. As if you didn’t already know. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and certainly when it comes to you two, where someone else has to lose in order to win.
You didn’t think of her words as useful and made sure to voice the complaints about your newly found couple’s therapist the entire ride back home. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure what to do with your critical feedback. The entire session, he was just waiting for Seulgi to hand him that step-by-step handbook to a successful marriage, which he hoped was attached to her clipboard. But he knew she wouldn’t have made it so easy for you even if she had it. Not with the amount of money he pays her per session. Because if we’re going to be honest, then no, Jungkook didn’t get Seulgi either. But he was willing to learn from her and understand her. Unlike you, who just sat there and might as well have filed and groomed your nails while you were at it.
Maybe you’re scared of whatever is yet to come, he ponders. Maybe you think you’re better off than whatever the future has planned out for you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know, and he can’t figure you out either.
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full version, date of release july 6th 2023.
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taglist: @codeinebelle @cxcotin @hrts4kook
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twisted-tales-told · 4 months
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hiiiii “I need a place to stay.” pls xx
I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I GOT THIS
This ask game
It's two o'clock in the morning when Sirius wakes to a pounding on his front door.
Remus groans in bed beside him, throwing a pillow over his head--which becomes a unanimous vote against Sirius that it is in fact him that will be getting the door.
The night has been dramatic enough as it is, a storm throwing out the power for most of the evening and the clashing of thunder and lighting overhead being frequent enough that Albernathy the third--James' cat--has been hiding under the bed.
"Alright, alright I'm coming!" Sirius shouts when another round of banging begins.
He swings open the door, ready to give an earful to whoever it is--most likely James, forgetting his key for the 20th time, but all the words get stuck in his throat at the sight of his little brother standing there, dripping onto their welcome mat.
"I need a place to stay," Regulus blurts out before Sirius can even begin to think of words.
Sirius drags his eyes from Regulus' slightly frantic expression, his curly hair dripping onto his jacket--which is way too posh for two am--and finally to the backpack he's carrying swung over one shoulder.
"Pads," comes a drowsey voice behind him, "who's at the--Reggie?"
Sirius glances over his shoulder to see James in the hall behind him, glasses on, no shirt, and wearing his spider-man pyjama pants.
"Can I get a towel?" Regulus asks, far too polite for someone shaking like a leaf.
"Yes," Sirius stutters out, somehow far too loud. "I--yes. Prongs?"
"Going."
Sirius steps out of the way, letting Regulus into the apaetment. They regard each other silently for a second.
"May I...take your coat?" Sirius asks, cringing inwardly at the causalness.
But Regulus huffs a laugh, "only if you have one I can borrow."
"I do." Sirius tries, meeting Regulus' eye. "Have one you can borrow."
Regulus' expression is too open for Sirius' taste. He barely knows the boy--man now, standing in front of them.
"Regulus--" he starts, but he's interrupted by James returning with some clothes and a towel.
"I think these should fit," James shoves them into Regulus' arms, "bathroom is at the end of the hall. Feel free to use any of the products there. Sirius' fancy shampoos especially."
"Thank you," Regulus quietly toes off his shoes and pads down to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. A moment later Sirius hears the shower turn on.
"This is not how I saw my night going," Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose.
"What do you think happened?" James asks, fiddling with one of the drawstrings to his pants, "I mean--do you think your parents..."
"I have no idea," Sirius sighs, running a hand through his hair. "He's staying, either way."
"Of course," James says seriously. "He's always been welcome here."
"It's been three years," Sirius bites his lip. "A lot can change in three years."
James looks down the hall, and for once in his life, Sirius has no idea how to read his expression. But then James turns back to him, hand gripping Sirius' shoulder tight. "And some things don't ever change."
Part II
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legobiwan · 4 months
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For the drabble prompt list
"none of this is your fault" mario and luigi
Drabbles, they said, Ha! I answered. Anyway, I have no idea where this came from, but enjoy this barely-edited not-drabble. I am apparently incapable of concise writing right now :D
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“None of this is your fault, Lou.”
Luigi scoffed, pushing dampened sleeves up both arms, smearing dark, sweaty grease across his skin in wide, impressionistic lines.
“You tell that to Toadsworth in three days. I’m sure he’ll be happy to believe you,” Luigi groused, tightening a stubborn, thick bolt with a violent twist. That should keep the engine boosters from flying off at speeds exceeding thirty miles an hour. (Or as they were counted in the Mushroom Kingdom, five hundred and two mycelia per second, a measuring system so opaque - and infuriating - that Luigi had sat through an entire five-hour Toad Council meeting just so he could petition the government to introduce a bill to launch a public vote on switching to any other quantifier that made a modicum of sense. The notion, of course, was voted down in a manner of seconds. Tradition, Mister Luigi, Toadsworth had sniffed, rapping his long-handled gavel with an imperious gesture, closing off all debate on the matter).
Snobby old toad could stuff it up his spore holes.
“He’ll get over it,” Mario said. “What’s he going to do, anyway? Make us sit through another boring state dinner?”
Luigi poked at a serpentine belt that resembled some slices of old cheese he once found in the back of their fridge in Brooklyn. How these guys managed to stay competitive with equipment in this condition was a complete slap in the face to basic physics.
“You like those dinners.” Luigi crawled out from under the dented chassis, sitting back on his haunches as he gestured at his brother with a ratchet-wrench, making curly patterns in the air as if he were a Magikoopa casting a spell.
“I hate those dinners as much as you. They’re hot, stuffy, and the food is an insult to the entirety of Brooklyn. It’s not my fault I get to sit next to Peach and you’re always stuck with Lady Maitake and her hundreds of onion bulb-pup photos for two hours.”
“Don’t remind me. Did you know she’s trying to train them to do circus acts and take them on the road?” Luigi ran a finger down one of the dusty schematics strewn about the stone floor. “Hand me that spanner, will you?”
Mario shook his head, chuckling, handing off the hooked tool to Luigi, who shimmied once more underneath the maroon-and-black kart. “Look, you got hoodwinked into a bad contract. I should have looked over the fine print before you signed.”
“You’re not my keeper, Mario,” Luigi grumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “And it’s not even the contract that I care about. Frankly, I’m impressed Bowser’s been able to get these things to do anything beyond cough up smoke and crash into the nearest palm tree. It’s a good challenge to get them running again.”
“So what’s the issue, then?”
Luigi stilled, his hands guts-deep in a mess of wiring and cables that looked like an earthworm graveyard. After a moment, he sighed, letting the spanner tool clatter to the floor with a bright, metallic jangle. 
“The issue,” he began, staring up at the internal electronic system of one of Bowser’s so-called best racing karts. “Is that he’s probably going to win. Bowser, that is. And everyone will make nice about it at the awards ceremony and Bowser will get too drunk on elderflower wine and get kicked out of the post-race party.”
“That happens every race, Lou.”
“Yeah, but you know Bowser. He’ll let it slip that I was the one doing repairs on his karts. And then in the morning, there will be a meeting. And Toadsworth will go on about the standing of the Kingdom being compromised and it being a diplomatic catastrophe that we allowed Bowser to win and that,” Luigi adopted a whiny, pompous voice. “Mr. Luigi has once again strained his credibility within the Mushroom Kingdom.” 
“Look, that stodgy old Toad has no chance of making those charges stick. You were exonerated, Weeg. Nothing that happened with Bleck - “ Mario clenched his fists, hissing through his teeth. “Nothing that happened in that place was you. That wasn’t your fault, and neither is this.”
Luigi reached towards one of the dangling battery coils, playing with the violet and yellow wires between his fingers. “Sure,” he breathed. “Not me.”
“Not you,” Mario insisted, his voice steely. “And besides,” he continued, a hint of humor creeping into his words. If you’re so concerned about Toadsworth, why don’t you sabotage Bowser’s fleet?”
Luigi pushed himself out from under the kart, snapping up to a seat in wide-eyed horror.
“And ruin my reputation as an engineer? No way, bro. I’ll risk the treason charges, thank you very much.”
Mario guffawed, ambling over to take a seat next to his brother, the two coming shoulder-to-shoulder, backs set against the passenger door of the Koopa Coupe. “I think your reputation is beyond reproach, Lou.” Mario gave a small, uncertain smile. “After all, you did build two killer robots in the span of two weeks.”
It was a huge step forward, just being able to talk about the whole incident in Flipside, no less joke about it - the ordeal with Bleck and the jester and Luigi’s brainwashing. Mario had stayed tight-lipped about the entire debacle for weeks after they had gotten back, much to Luigi’s aggravation, until things came to a head one night due to a series of ill-conceived plans on the part of the Toad Council, the most brazen of which featured a misserved cup of tea laced with a dubiously legal truth potion.
Luigi sniffed out half a chuckle, nudging his brother in the shoulder. “Well, I can’t let Bowser think I’m slipping, right?”
Mario eyed his brother carefully, his features brightening as he caught the note of mischief in Luigi’s voice. Grinning, he clapped his brother on the knee. “You’ve got an idea, don’t you? The Old Koopa King doesn’t know what he’s got coming.”
Luigi straightened, composing himself into the picture of innocence. “Dear brother, I am a man of my word. Bowser will win the race, just like the contract stipulates.”
“And?”
“Aaand,” Luigi drew out the word, schematics and thermodynamic equations taking shape in his mind. “Let’s say the engine modifications I’m making happen to engage a set of rocket boosters at a certain speed threshold. Bowser’ll like that. But then maybe the activation of those boosters, given a certain location and time input, temporarily cede control of the brakes and steering to a pre-programmed route of the engineer’s choosing.” Luigi paused for dramatic effect. “All after the race is finished, of course. No injuries. No harm. Just a little post-race joyride through the forest.”
Mario gave a joyous whoop, bringing his brother into a tight, side-hug. “They’ll hear him screaming all the way in Rogueport! Ha! You know he’ll threaten to invade during the after-party! No one will care if you worked on his kart once he shows back up breathing smoke!”
“He’ll do that regardless,” Luigi laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “But you know how these modifications are. Always a chance of overburdening your circuits.”
“And at least it’ll be a while before he tries to trick you into doing his dirty work again,” Mario added.
“I hope so.” Luigi placed a warm hand on his brother’s shoulder, smiling. “Thanks, Mario.”
Mario beamed back at his brother, playfully flicking the brim of Luigi’s hat. “Come on, Lou. Show me how to build a sentient robot race kart.”
~~~~~
Drabble writing challenge: Make me sweat!
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beelmons · 1 year
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Mandatory team-building exercise
Pairing: BAU x Fem!BAU!Reader (becomes Hotch-centered) Genre: Smut (18+, minors are not encouraged to interact or read this story) CW: unprotected sex (i do not encourage), slight exhibitionism (not really, but ppl know stuff), jealous!hotch (a lil only), hoeing around, reader is bisexual Word count: 6,795 (very sorry about this) Summary: After a night of drinking, your boss proposes a bonding exercise so the team can get even closer: Everyone must make out with you, and you have to choose who kisses best. A/N: I got too carried away with this, no idea if i did any good, but here you go. Tag list (tagging everyone who reblogged and voted hotch): @ssamorganhotchner @montyfandomlove @hotchners-sweetheart @hey-dw @cassiemartzz &lt;;3
Best part of going to O’keefe’s was wrapping the night up at Rossi’s, slightly tipsy, laughing about everything, and generally enjoying the genuine personalities of your friends, no masks or guards up, which was something hard to do at work. David’s house was a place where you could bare your soul and still feel safe. 
“...and I swear, everyone just thought it was the most normal thing.” JJ said while swinging her glass of wine around, and the people around her let out a light laugh. 
“I bet Rossi could agree with that, couldn’t you?” Morgan directed the question to Dave “After all, it’s your fault that we don’t get to fraternize with other agents, ain’t that right?” his comment made everyone laugh once again. 
“No, no, never within the same department. I was in the bureau during the 70’s and 80’s, you didn’t get that many women out here, let alone in the BAU. By the end of my career, we only had two female agents in this unit and I had already been married thrice. So, do the math, if I had wanted to sleep with someone from the same unit, it would have had to be…” he made a pause for dramatic build-up “well, Gideon.” 
The entire team let out a disgusted yet amused grunt at the mere idea of seeing two of their former bosses interacting in such fashion. You watched Spencer’s face be particularly crumpled, he was possibly picturing it in vivid detail by accident, consequences of having such a bright mind, so you decided to grab the hand that was holding his long island tea and push it gently towards his lips. You giggled at how he automatically obeyed and swallowed down a rather big gulp of his beverage. 
“I’m just glad these are problems we don’t have to face in the BAU, you know, fraternization between agents.” Hotch said, taking a sip off his glass. 
The silence that took over the group was deafening. Accusatory looks were being exchanged between everyone, and they could notice how certain glances lasted longer than appropriate. Hotch didn’t usually stay long enough to see how the nights ended, when everyone was too hammered to call their own cabs, or too impaired to question themselves whether the person they were kissing was or was not part of the team. 
“Well, I think this is a conversation you kids should have without your parent present.” David, who was way faster at reading the situation compared to the unit chief, got up from his chair, leaving his glass by the table. Aaron sighed in what seemed like disappointment, and immediately followed Dave's actions. “No, no.” the older man quickly put a hand on his shoulder indicating him to sit down “I think it’s better if you stay; do some bonding. I’ll be in my room, sleeping, don’t be afraid to be noisy, the place is soundproof, just make sure to leave the alarm active once you leave.”
Incredulity washed over the unit chief as he watched his fellow team leader walk away from the situation. The eyes had turned to him instead, silently questioning about the decision he was going to take. It was a bit awkward to discuss your personal affairs with your boss present, sure, but it’s not like you didn’t have a relationship with him. Hotch, reserved and all, knew each member to a level of intimacy that few others could be able to reach, and had protected them in ways no other superior would approve of.  
“Whatever I hear today will come through the ears of your friend, not your superior, but there’s no discussing this back at the office, understood?” the boss clarified as he went back to his seat, his hand reaching for the scotch he had left on the table. There was a second of doubtful silence, people were unsure how safe it was to share such private, and risky, information. Hotch started to catch up, feeling slightly unwelcome and bothersome, so he let out another sigh.  
“Elle was Reid’s first time.” you spurted out of the blue, trying to ease the anxiety that was probably growing within your superior. 
“Hey!” your partner yelled out, being sat next to you on one of the couches, clearly offended that he was the scapegoat to the situation. 
“Greenaway?!” Morgan asked from across the living room. 
“Do you know any more Elles, Morgan?” you said, your eyes rolling. 
“How did you even land that, kid?” the dark-skinned man continued to ask. 
“I’m not really a fan of discussing my sex life out in the open, which is why this was told in confidence to my close and dear friend” the young doctor shot you a quick glare with a hint of anger on it. 
“Oh, so now it’s a sex life?” JJ teased. 
“Totally.” you said, taking a sip of your own drink before continuing “Because he told me this two minutes before he shoved his tongue in my mouth, and his fingers down my pants.” 
“No way!” Prentiss let out while everyone else laughed in surprise, Hotch’s eyebrows simply slightly raised at the confession. 
Reid was sinking on his seat, his ears reddened from the looks that he was receiving. You made sure to squeeze his thigh lightly and shoot him a smile, which deflated the uneasiness that he was feeling. You didn’t mean any harm, and there was no wrong in letting the secret out in front of your most cherished friends, they would have found out one way or another. 
“Morgan and I made out once.” Garcia interrupted the teasing in order to protect her favorite boy wonder from any further teasing, and Derek drew a smug smile on his face at her affirmation. 
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Hotch contributed with an absolutely unphased expression, or so until another idea ran through his mind, his brows furrowing in concern “Hold on, was this on company time?” both suspects froze in their place and exchanged questioning, guilty looks. Regardless of the answer, their expressions had been enough to give them away “you know what? it’s better if I don’t know.” 
“That office is certainly cozy, don’t you think?” JJ said once again, her eyes traveling between you and Penelope. 
“Impossible.” Derek’s eyes spread wide open, his jaw basically dropping “Please don’t tell me the three made out in Garcia’s office and didn’t invite us to watch” he let out in a pleading, hurt tone. 
“Four.” Emily barged in. 
The men in the room seemed to melt at the revelation, the expression being quite literal for Morgan who slid down the chair in defeat, landing on his knees as if he had been shot in the cruelests of fashions. Spencer could only furrow his brows and let his mouth fall open, already trying to picture the situation. 
“Was it like, taking turns on each other? or the four of you putting your lips together in one single kiss?” the blond asked in order to assess the spatial situation better. 
“I’d say it was kind of a free-for-all sort of situation.” Prentiss answered him. 
“At some point, I’d close my eyes and whomever’s lips came to mine, I was fine with it.” JJ commented, earning a flirty giggle from the rest of the girls around her. 
“You women are killing me.” Morgan said once again, but a sudden epiphany seemed to come through his brain, and he turned in your direction with a pointed finger “Wait a second. That means you have been through everyone’s lips?!” he said in surprise. 
“You’ve made out with her too?!” Garcia said in an offended tone. 
“Christmas last year, got a little carried away with that mistletoe kiss.” he admitted “But nothing further than that.” 
Everyone’s eyes turned to you, the crowd had a mixture of accusation and admiration on their faces, depending on who you looked at, and their staring was making you a little uncomfortable, if you were being honest. 
“Have you all looked at yourselves? This is a ridiculously hot group of people. Being bisexual is very hard with a team like this.” you argued in your defense and decided to down whatever liquid was still inside your glass. Their faces seemed to light up with a hint of shyness. Everyone thought so, of course, but compliments on your physical appearances were not something you exchanged frequently. It was nice to hear once in a while. 
“Did you ever end up sleeping with someone?” Hotch’s question took everyone by surprise, yet they were intrigued enough to allow him to ask uninterrupted. 
Your eyebrows raised with slight offense “Come on, Hotch, I’m not a slut. The closest I have come to was Reid, and even so we stopped because I didn’t want to jeopardize our jobs.” you complained. 
“Sorry, that was not my intention-” he began, until Reid’s question cut him off. 
“Who’s the best?” he asked. 
“Spencer!” JJ yelled accusingly. 
“No, no, let the kid ask.” Morgan put a hand in front of JJ’s chest, trying to keep her opinions from coming out. Yet again, you were put as the center of attention, but you decided to shrug off the question. 
“It’s not like I keep track of each time!” you let out, pushing your friend by the shoulder playfully at his suggestion “Most of them were really far apart from each other, and it only happened once with each one of you.” you clarified, your eyes traveling to Aaron, as if you were trying to justify yourself to him. 
“So, what I hear is: if they were to happen one after the other, then we could find out?” Emily questioned in your direction. 
“There’s a pretty spacious coat closet by the entrance.” Reid pointed out. 
“Oh, we could make it into a competition, and whoever wins gets to sleep with her!” Garcia blurted with a little too much excitement. 
“Wha-” you tried to complain in confusion “Stop your horses, I don’t even get a say in this?!” 
“No.” Hotch stated. The way his eyes were stern, yet completely determined, caused a sensation in you that could only be described as lust. He was always commanding, but there was something about him instructing you to do the dirtiest things to your coworkers that had gotten you excited “This is now a mandatory team-bonding exercise.” his words came out almost like an order.  
There was yet another exchange of looks, this time excited ones, between the team members, and they decided to look at you for approval. “Okay, but sleeping with me is one hell of a prize, and I don’t seem to be getting anything out of this. So, how do I win, and what do I win?” 
“Seems fair that you have a reward as well if you achieve your desired result. How about, if no one is able to convince you to sleep with them, you get one of their vacation days each.” Hotch proposed. “Garcia and JJ, since the two of you are committed you don’t have to actively participate, but you will place a bet on the member you think she’ll most likely succumb to, if you win, you get the loser’s vacation day.”  
Your mouth crooked with pleasure, an expression that your partners mimicked. You were feeling exposed, in the good way, in the kinky way. You still took a second to consider, you knew there was no going back if you agreed to this, but yet again, these were the people you had trusted your entire life to, your job, your safety, your dignity. They would never do anything to undermine you, and their respect for you wouldn’t waver for something like this. 
“We have to set some rules, though.” Spencer weighed in “Only mouths and hands allowed in the erogenous zones.” 
“You worried that if we allow something else you’ll lose?” Morgan teased.
“Mhm, sure, we know what you’re trying to compensate for with those biceps, Morgan. I’m not afraid of you.” his friend teased back. There was a short moment of playful conflict between the two, when Derek pretended to jump menacingly towards Reid, yet he was stopped by Penelope’s hand on his chest. 
“Okay. I’m game.” you agreed along with a nod of your head “Who wants to give it a try first?” you asked, taking a look at the entire group. 
Bunch of eager hands raised at the cue. Morgan’s and Prentiss’s almost touching the ceiling as they competed to see who could raise it higher. JJ and Penelope, who were unfortunately not single at the moment, could only laugh at their little quarrel. Your finger moved rhythmically, pretending to select at random while humming a classic ‘choosing’ song. Ultimately, your digit landed on Prentiss and you wiggled it to indicate her to follow you; she stood up to reach for your hand, allowing you to lead her towards the closet by the entrance. 
She locked the door behind her and turned around with her hands extended towards you, trying to find your body in the pitch-dark small room; your eyesights finally adjusted to the lack of light and you could barely make out her shape. 
“You sure you’re good with this?” she double-checked once her limbs landed on your waist. 
“Em, I love the commitment to consent, but stop talking.” you ordered. 
Within seconds, your own arms wrapped around her neck urging her to come closer; she obliged, happily, and her own head bent forward to meet your lips. You could taste the faint flavor of her balm, which you identified as piña colada. 
Her lips moved slowly, yet sensually, the hands that were gripping your hips pulled them closer, and you could heart the rustling of your clothes rubbing together. After a couple of seconds, her tongue began to prod your bottom lip, ever so chivalrous asking for permission. You chuckled amusedly at the gesture, and she took advantage of the opening to slip in. 
Emily liked to take her time, not really taking control, more like exploring a place that always felt familiar and was revisiting just then. On your side, your fingers curled into the slightly messy hair, and your body rolled on its own to be feeling more of her against you. 
You could feel her hand dragging upwards over your clothes, she traced the side of your body and caused your shirt to come up a little bit, the cool air felt interesting against your now hot skin, and so a sound slipped past your lips. It was Emily’s turn to laugh, pulling away so she could make out your eyes. 
“Better than last time?” she asked, her face not leaving yours. 
“Mhm.” you could simply hum, still breathless from the session. 
“Do you have enough material to work with, judge?” she teased, her nose grazing yours in a playful manner. 
“You will be hard to top, Em.” you admitted to her as your body pulled away. 
“Not the first time I’ve been told that.” she joked “I’ll send in the next contestant, who do you want me to get?” 
“You know what? Just send in whoever you’d like, surprise me.” 
She smiled before sneaking out of the narrow room. You were left alone with a bunch of coats and purses, your idea building anticipation within yourself. Spencer or Morgan, who would come through that door? You were dying to know. Although, if you were being honest, there was only one other person you wanted in there with you. However, you weren’t sure if the team-bonding exercise applied to him as well, he was the sole pair of lips you were dying to taste, and still the only ones you hadn’t. 
Your train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the door; you jumped slightly in your place, and the man that was entering the room could notice. 
“Whoa, sweetheart, you that excited to see me?” Morgan chuckled at your startled reaction, and he swiftly closed the door behind you. 
“You’re a pleasant surprise, yes.” you said trying to ease your nervousness. Morgan made you particularly uneasy, not for anything bad, you were just sure that man had some sort of a psychic ability, he would always guess what you were thinking without even opening your mouth. 
“You were expecting someone different, weren’t you?” he stood before you, towering over your body. 
He took a couple of steps forward and you retracted until your back eventually hit the wall, he continued to pace forward until the gap between your bodies almost disappeared; being caged in by him, your hands traveled to your front, and they landed on his chest, almost as if you were trying to put some space in between you. 
He caught up to your actions, observant as he was, and so he raised his own hands to cup your cheeks. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness once again, and you could see the natural glim of his as he looked into you. 
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, alright? We can just pretend like we did until Hotch gets his turn.” he reassured, and your mouth dropped open. 
“Why would you-” you started to try and justify yourself, but he cut you off with a laugh. 
“I’ve got an eye for tragic lovers.” 
You sighed a little bit; Morgan had to be a mind reader, there was no other way. As if he was doing just that, his arms fell back to his sides and he stepped back to give you more space. Your hands desperately clung to the front of his t-shirt, not allowing him to escape any further from your grip. 
“Hold on.” you told him “There’s no need to pretend, he already thinks we’re going to do it, so what’s the harm?” 
The room was a bit too dark for you to make out his specific facial expression, but you were sure his eyebrows were raised in a startled surprise. 
“Damn, you’re good at convincing.” without further delay, his hands darted back to the position on your face, and he used them to pull you forward. 
You felt his lips on yours immediately, he was less gentle than Emily, but nonetheless chivalrous. You had to grant him access to your mouth, and he quickly obeyed your desires. His fingers moved back to the nape of your head, keeping you in place against his mouth as his tongue danced fervently around yours. 
Your hands had moved back to his chest, using them to stabilize yourself since his strength and mild roughness was making you lose your balance. You couldn’t help the slight squeeze that you gave his pecs, being that they felt firm under your fingers. Derek took your initiative with the touch as an invitation to do so as well. One of his arms fell down, and sensually slipped to your lower back, he was cautious, lowering inch by inch in search of any sign of complaint or rejection, but you didn’t provide  any, and his palm gently began to caress the area of your ass. 
Your hips rolled unconsciously against his, his breath hitched inside his throat as you did so to the point where he had to pull apart to catch it back. He didn’t want to leave you unattended, therefore his head tilted to the side to take a gentle nibble at your jaw before he moved down to your neck. The hand on your neck joined the other on your rear, adding much needed pressure to his front; you let out a pleased sound, and it was his sign to retract. 
He stole a quick, last peck from your lips before he pulled back. “I think I’ve done a good job.” he said with a cheeky tone.  
“Certainly, contestant” you went along with the joke and he answered with a laugh “Please send in the next test subject” he nodded at your instructions and calmly walked out. 
Thanks to Morgan’s comment, you realized that Aaron was probably game as well, and the mere thought of him appearing behind that door at any given second was making you nervous enough to begin pacing around the small room. You yet again reacted when the entrance was open again, and you must have made a movement or expression that indicated disappointment, because Reid pursed his lips at the sight of you. 
“Not who you were expecting?” he asked before he closed the door behind him, and you could notice the tint of sadness in his voice. 
“Come on, don’t be like that.” you reached out towards him in an attempt to find his hands, and when you finally did you pulled him closer to you “You know it’s always a delight to make out with you.” you tried to reassure him. 
“It’s mutual, you know?” he said, his hands still in yours. 
“I figured, I am an excellent kisser” you teased. 
“That’s not what I meant.” his voice seemed more stern than usual “You and Hotch.” 
You were thankful for the darkness that didn’t allow the blush of your face to be seen; after a couple of seconds, you cleared your throat, trying to avoid sounding too hopeful. 
“You don’t have to force yourself to kiss me” he added “Plus, I don’t know how comfortable I would be doing so while you think of another man.” 
Your eyebrows raised at his candor. Vulnerable Spencer could always sway you, mostly because you knew none of his words ever held an ill intention. He was honest to a fault, and you always felt compelled to soothe his anxieties. 
“Then be good enough to make me forget.” you almost let out as a whisper. 
You knew it would have to be up to you to take control with him, so you cupped his face and quickly dragged him down to your level to press a kiss to his lips and shut up whatever other excuse he was going to emit. Spencer was much more familiar with your lips compared to others, barely any foreplay before his tongue was already massaging yours sensually. His fingers gripped your hips in a similar fashion he had done before (that one time you were telling the rest of the team about). 
He pushed you backwards a bit, having you pressed against an already too familiar wall, and you could feel his knee slipping past your thighs, right in between them. His lips continued to work around yours, gently nonetheless, but you could feel the grip on your hips getting tighter, and you realized he was trying to move them, bringing friction to your front. 
A light moan slipped past your lips straight into his mouth, so his body moved forward to press against you a little tighter. “Isn’t that cheating?” you took the opportunity to say. 
“It’s not.” he answered before taking another kiss away from you “My mouth is where it’s supposed to be.” 
You giggled at his logic; Spencer was just that good when it came to loopholes. You were too focused on the pleasure that was taking over you as your clothed crotch continued to rub against his leg to actually care. Your hips started to take a rhythm on their own, and your kiss turned into a session of adjoining lips panting in unison. His fingers kept digging further into the skin that he had managed to expose due to the movement. 
At some point, your head dropped back to allow yourself to get lost in the moment, and you felt his lips attack its base with open-mouthed, yet non-invasive, kisses. Your legs began to shake and Spencer pressed against you to keep you up, your light orgasm running within every vein of your body. 
He let out a light chuckle as he pulled away from you, making sure you could keep your balance. “Bet Morgan didn’t do that” he said proudly. 
You hit him in the arm and pushed him towards the door with a smile, watching him smugly prance his way out. You laughed to yourself to disguise the anxiety that began to overwhelm you. You made sure to fix your clothes in a somewhat presentable manner, and you unconsciously pressed yourself back against the wall, as if you were too scared to meet him face first. 
Your heart felt like jumping straight up out of your chest when the knob finally twisted the damned piece of fine wood open. For the brief moment the hall light illuminated the insides, your eyes met, you could see the startle in his eyes once he noticed the way you stood there seemingly frozen by his appearance. He couldn’t bear the sight, his hands immediately darting to your face without having even shut the entrance. In a blink, his entire presence was right by yours, and his nose rubbed desperately against your own, almost as if it had taken all of his strength to stop himself from kissing you right away. 
“Can I?” he asked in a mutter. 
“Yes.” you barely let him finish his question when you answered. 
Your firm and resolute agreement was nothing but a turn on to him, and his lips pressed passionately against yours without a second thought. You struggled to catch your breath as he devoured every inch of your now plump skin. His hands were nowhere near quiet, either, they presumed permission to explore as well and traveled south to where your lower-back, and any work you had done to tidy your shirt was long gone, being that he was heavily bothered by the fact that you were clothed.
The tip of his fingers were carefully memorizing the areas where your skin curved, every so often gripping selfishly with the intention of leaving at least a faint mark. You wondered how he could keep going without taking a break, and as if he could read your mind he pulled away.
“That’s plenty to be able to judge your performance.” you joked, suddenly aware that this had all begun because of a silly game you had tipsily come up with. 
“I’m sorry.” he said, his hands fixing themselves on your face instead, keeping it still to have you at the same level as him. 
“What for?” your eyebrows furrowed questioningly, even if in the darkness he couldn’t quite see your expression. 
“It’s not enough for me.” his lips smashed onto yours once again with a similar force “Please tell me this urge isn’t one-sided.” he tried to reassure himself. 
“It’s not.” you hurried to clarify, and your hands tugged at his shirt to serve as guarantee. 
Aaron reached for the hem of your top and swiftly pulled it over your head, giving your aching lips a second of rest. Once your breasts were partially freed, you noticed him bend over, and one of his hands moved the remaining fabric away to expose your nipple; the way his mouth so hungrily latched to it made you shiver with pleasure, your right limb moving to his hair, and the left one covering your mouth to stop the loud moan from coming out. He didn’t take long to bring your other nub attention as well, and caged, throaty whines began to fill the room. 
You could feel his erection pressing against your hip; he would roll them from time to time just as a reminder of the effect you had on him. You couldn’t process all that, though, if you were being honest, his every move, kiss, and suck driving you further away from sanity. As if his mouth wasn’t already doing wonders around your chest, you bolted up when you realized one of Hotch’s hands had found its way inside your pants, toying with the elastic band of your underwear. 
“Aaron.” you removed the cover from your face to let out an aroused moan of his name. 
He finally let go of your upper body, his back straightening to be close to your face once again “Tell me,” he almost whispered “when he was doing this to you, were you thinking of me?” 
When you didn’t jerk away from his touch, he moved past the last restrictive garment, and one of his digits trailed up your entire slit, an experimental feeling to gather your reaction. To his pleasure, you melted into his touch, and the lack of light didn’t allow you to see the wide smile it generated on him. He took advantage of your approval to slip his finger inside your cunt. 
“Cat got your tongue?” he teased as the aforementioned began to painstakingly slowly twirl within you “Tell me, is there anyone else that can make you this agitated? So wet, so desperate to be touched?” 
“N-No” you tried to answer in one go, however, the way the tip of his finger caressed your walls in search of reactions was not allowing you to think straight. 
“I’ll ask you again.” he said, his tone ever commanding “While he was touching you like this, did you secretly wish it was me?” he kept pressing his initial line of questioning, that you were too gone to remember it was about your little anecdote with Reid. 
His wrist twisted in a way that allowed him to penetrate deeper, owning a moan that you tried to subtly suppress. 
“Yes!” you cried out in the lowest tone you were able to, still oddly aware that the rest of your coworkers were outside. 
“Let him know.” he basically growled against your ear, you lacked contact in your lower body for a second, only to let out a loud, uncontained whimper once he added a second finger to the formula. You grabbed for dear life onto his biceps, trying to keep your balance as he continued to thrust his fingers inside and out, your head also laid against the crook of his neck, unable to keep yourself facing him as he spilled dirty nothings in your ear. 
“Aaron, please.” you begged as your hips tried to get him even further within you “I need more.” 
The arm that was helping you keep still moved so his fingers could tangle in your hair, his grip allowed him to tilt your head back with a gentle tug, not quite enough to hurt you, but firm enough to force it a little. 
“I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget every word but my name.” his mouth pressed against yours once again to give you a reaffirming, rough kiss.
He removed his hand from your downside, and it energetically began to search around for the top he had removed earlier. Unable to find it, between other pieces of clothing and the darkness of the room, Aaron decided to remove his own shirt and hurried to throw it over your shoulders. 
Your face reddened at his intentions, he was trying to cover you so the rest of the members wouldn’t see you literally half naked. Once he was comfortable with how many buttons he had hooked, he grabbed your hand to guide you outside the narrow closet. 
Unfortunately for the both of you, and his subordinates, the only path towards the guest rooms, that Dave had prepared earlier, was to follow the hallway that crossed the living room area on the side. You braced yourself mentally, your hand covering your face as you began to feel the confused sights of your coworkers during your little parade. 
“Last one out set the alarm.” you could hear Hotch command, but you didn’t dare to look back at your friends, or him for that matter. 
The rest of the group simply stared at how their shirtless superior was dragging a girl, their very best friend, who was wearing his shirt over what was obviously a barely clothed chest, to the rooms their other boss had prepared for a very specific purpose. They exchanged puzzled looks in complete silence until Emily spoke up. 
“Anyone know the alarm code?” she asked. 
Back to you and Aaron, he had chosen the closest door he could find open. As soon as you stepped in, he grabbed your hips once again to press them against his, his erection made itself known against them, and you couldn’t help but to curiously wander one hand down. Your foreheads met and so did your eyes as you palmed his front; he let out an airy quiet moan. 
Not able to take his frustration any longer, he twirled in his place along with you, making you stumble and fall on your back on to the bed. He landed right on top, his palms against the mattress cushioning the fall so he wouldn’t lay his entire weight on you. 
There was no exchange of words, only a quick glance at your covered bottom that you understood as a command. Your back arched upwards and he could steal a glance of your perked nipples rubbing against his lent shirt. Shortly, you began to wiggle underneath him to remove the pants that you were pushing down along with your underwear. Once you were exposed, garments missing somewhere around the area, Aaron sat on his knees to unbuckle his belt. 
The second his member became exposed, you let out a pleased gasp, which prompted him to smile in a rather shy way. Your legs subtly spread apart, revealing more of your intimate parts, and he understood that as an invitation to enter. His tip trailed slowly up and down your entrance, but before you could complain, he began to push in. He was as desperate as you were, and the way you let out a soft whine at his size. 
Once he had pushed all the way in, he reached for your hands, intertwining your fingers together and pushing them all the way over your head. He could get a clear view of your face and breasts, and once he made sure you had adjusted to him, his hips began to move. Another moan escaped your lips, so he leaned down to meet his mouth with yours, planting a passionate, deep kiss to it. 
You could feel yourself being filled by him, soft noises coming out of your mouth into his at the gentleness of his thrusts. Said gesture, however, wouldn’t seem to last long, and you noticed in the way the grip of your hands felt tighter with each one. 
“No one else can touch you like this.” he pulled away from the kiss to focus on the side of your neck, you felt his lips attach to the skin and roughly suck on it. Aaron pulled away to admire the redness that spread on the spot, proud of the mark that he knew it was going to leave. 
“No one else.” you reassured, your back arching a little at the pulsating pain on your neck. 
“Good girl.” he praised, his hips snapping with a particularly rough thrust that caused a low ‘fuck’ out of you. 
“Don’t hold back your voice.” 
He repeated his movement, and this time you squirmed trying to free your hands, a loud, throat-deep whimper resonating around the otherwise empty room. He smirked at the volume of the sound, yet his hips continued to pound in you, the initial slow movements gone from his rhythm. 
“Aaron…” you whispered in between moans “I want to cum.” you tried to beg. 
“Not yet, sweetheart.” his eyes glimmered with certain darkness
His hips changed angles even when his current speed wouldn’t give in, the way he was pushing now allowed your clit to rub slightly against his lower torso with every thrust, probably so he wouldn’t have to use his hands and set yours free. 
“I need to know I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” he growled “I need you to say you’re mine.” 
“I’m-” you were about to start talking when he snapped his hips roughly, and you could feel him slide all the way in, his balls making a loud clapping sound when they hit the skin on your ass. The sound you made was loud, almost like a scream, and you were sure whoever was still outside certainly heard it. 
“What 's that? Couldn’t hear you.” his mouth had curled into a smug smirk. 
“I’m yours, Aaron. I’m all yours.” you cried out, your wrists once again twisting in an attempt to free themselves. 
He muttered another praise and let go of your hands, which could only fall flat to your sides and grip onto the sheets of the bed; he leaned back to be sitting on his knees once again, not allowing his member to slip out of you, and grabbed at your hips to slide them onto his lap. He held them in position as he continued to thrust, but one of his thumbs snuck to the upper part of your cunt, rapidly teasing the sensitive nerve bundle. 
You kept slightly gritting your teeth, your walls clenching around his shaft without mercy, and even if it was not obvious on his face, you could tell by the way his member throbbed inside of you that he was about to reach his limit as well. 
“Cum.” he suddenly commanded, and you didn’t need anything more. 
You allowed yourself to be engulfed by your climax, your body twisting itself and your hands pulling at the fabric beneath them, your legs also curled, basically pushing your partner in your direction, not even giving him the option to pull back. 
On his part, his head was thrown back, and you could see the way his adam’s apple bobbed with the loud groans he let out, his fingers gripping tighter on your skin, however this time the mark that his hold would leave was a complete accident. 
He didn’t pull out once he had spilled himself completely into you, instead, his body dropped forward, his arms slipping under your body to hold you close to him, head on your chest, eyes closed, just trying to take in the fact that he had just made love to you. 
“Aaron?” you said with a curious tone, your arms wrapping around his back and allowing one of your hands to tangle in his hair. He answered with a short hum, too tired to give you an actual answer “Does it bother you that I made out with the rest of the team tonight?” you asked, nervous that it would have hurt him in any way. 
“No.” he said matter-of-factly “As long as I only get to do it from now on.” 
You shared a light chuckle, and without noticing, the both of you drifted off to sleep. 
The next morning was a bit awkward for Rossi, being that he was not expecting to see the entire team, save for you and Hotch, curled on his living room furniture. JJ, Reid, and Emily had curled up together on the larger piece, while Morgan and Garcia cuddled on one of the individual seats. The clearing of his throat woke everyone up in a startle, and they looked around confusedly for the missing members of the group. 
“What the hell happened last night?” David asked no one in particular. 
“We were playing a game, and we must have fallen asleep waiting for it to end.” Garcia said with a slightly suggestive, yet groggy, voice, and Rossi decided it was better not to ask. 
“By the way, how do we interpret this?” Emily asked “Who won?” 
“Do you even have to ask?” Morgan scoffed, and Emily shrugged in defeat. 
“Then, who won between the two of you?” Reid asked, pointing at JJ and Garcia. 
“No one, really.” Jennifer replied. 
“What? You both failed? Who did you choose?” Morgan inquired. 
The blondes exchanged looks to see if they had had the same thought, and so they replied in unison once they had figured they were correct. 
“Spencer.” their tones were flat, almost as if the answer was obvious. Reid lit up in a smile, wiggling his eyebrows victoriously at Derek. 
“What?! No way you would just pick him!” he was baffled at the answer. 
“Girls talk, Derek” Penelope told him “Let’s just say Elle reviewed his service with five stars.” 
The group broke into a shared laugh, and Rossi only interrupted so he could inquire on the whereabouts of his friends. 
“Where’s Aaron?” he prompted. 
“One of the guest rooms.” Reid said. 
“And is he with…?” Dave continued. 
“Yup” the five members said in unison, referring to you. 
“Also, Rossi, if you don’t mind, I kind of have a design suggestion.” Spencer turned in the direction of his superior
The older man raised his eyebrows, curious about the words that were about to come out of the younger’s mouth. “Let’s hear it.” 
“Please make all the rooms soundproof.”
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layuhsblog · 2 months
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Keep Calm- Gojo Satoru x Reader| Angst (pt.1)
warnings: arguing, asshole gojo, reader is patient af, tw- insecurities, panic attacks, mention of throwing up, pregnancy, reading working overtime, corporate slave reader| POLL BELOW PLEASE VOTE
"Toru, you never had a problem with it before, why are you bringing it up and fussing about it now? I don't understand." Satoru knew you weren't someone who liked travelling, you usually were always the type to admire the view from the hotel room, maybe explore the area in a day and rest some more. Your job made it hard for you to relax, so any free time you get, even in a vacation, you'd rather sleep. He liked to explore. He loved clicking pictures.
You were together for so long, you figured he wouldn't have a problem with it. But here you were, just returning from a trip. Gojo suddenly snapped at you while driving. Along the lines of how you don't appreciate what he does for you and how you barely spent any time with him in the trip.
"Babe, I did explore the area and we went out too. You know how tired I was.. I'm sorry I just wanted to sleep. I'm really grateful you took me with you, and I really appreciate whatever you do for me. Please understand, there are some things we both like different. I'm sorry I don't like to explore during vacations."
"Thats the fuckin' point of a vacation ___! It feels like you just wasted my money. I woke you up so many times. Just because you went once doesn't make it any better. You're so, you're so fucking lazy! Its always the damn job and if not it then sleep. I wanted ONE vacation without your stupid laptop but no, how difficult is it to ask that?!" He snapped. You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to fight yet. You were too fucking tired for this. You're clearly admitting this is a wrong habit of yours and he's just riling you up not wanting to clear it out. You tried to understand his point of view. You were slowly getting a little thin on patience.
"Baby, again, I'd been working overtime for months, I really want that promotion. I..love this job, I don't like the staff or the boss, but I like what I do. And if that bothers you, talk to me. You had the whole week to do so. You kept it all in and now you're snapping at me. Be nicer, I admit where I'm at fault but baby, you're being a bit harsh. I really wanted to get some sleep while I had the chance.." you said calmly, he rolled his eyes at you. He parked the car, you had reached your house.
"Whatever Y/n." He got out of the car and slammed the door. He mumbled something on his way out, he didn't intend for you to hear. Instantly regretting the words that left his mouth. He hoped you hadn't heard him.
He turned to look at you, the way your head was dropped low and how you were shaking with anger or sadness, he wasn't sure, and how your fists were balled up pinching at your thighs to keep yourself calm, not getting out of the car- said otherwise.
"(ex name) would never do this, she loved to travel with me."
In your two years of relationship, he was always the snappy one, while you, never allowed yourself a moment of weakness. Always kept your calm, always patient and kept your voice low, even in anger and annoyance. That's what makes this so scary to him. He's seeing you try to keep yourself calm after what he said, he doesn't know whether to applaud you out of respect or run out of fear. You always smiled at him, your voice soft when he got mad at you. At most he's seen you annoyed, all pouty and frowning, it was cute. Right now, this wasn't. If his students were here they'd laugh at how The Strongest is cowering at the sight of his Significant Other.
'Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm. Breathe in, breathe out. He doesn't mean it. He's trying to get you to get a reaction.' You kept telling yourself. Your head was pounding.
You took a deep breath. And without sparing him a glance, got out of the car, head still low, fists still clenched. You quietly shut the door. Keeping your calm.
Satoru swore he would shit his pants if you stayed silent for another second. He wanted you to cry, scream, yell, even hit him but you said nothing. The air around you both was thick with tension. Suffocating him.
You walked ahead of him, to your apartment and he ran to catch up with you, wanting to apologise,
"___, I-I'm really sorry. I didn't me-" Slam. You slammed the door to his face and locked it.
-
It had been five minutes. Satoru could easily type in the code and get inside or even break open the door if it came to that, he decided to wait for you to cool down before he came in and properly apologise, wanting to give you your space.
The door opened, and he was met with your blank expression, your eyes distant and cold.
"___, I'm so-" You cut him off by shoving a huge bag in his arms. He looked at you in confusion.
"Baby, what's this..?"
"You want (ex name), go be with her. You want to act like a fuckin child? Say whatever you want and get away with it? Fuck off, you don't get to pull this shit with me." You handed him another suitcase.
"Tell Nanami to collect your things from here tomorrow. I'll pay my share of the trip back to you, asshole. Don't ever see me again." With that, the door was slammed to his face again.
-
You exhaled shakily, trying to calm the hammering in your chest. Your stomach hurt. Fuck you were having a panic attack. All the fear, insecurities and trauma from past relationships coming back to you. He knew that, he knew everything and still used it against you. And God, how much you hated him right now. But how much your heart longed to call him to hold you and comfort you through what you were feeling right now.
Everything felt too suffocating. You mustered all your strength and walked to the washroom, feeling suddenly weak and nauseated.
As you were brushing your teeth, your eyes wandered to a pink rectangle on the sink. your stomach dropped. Suddenly remembering something you forgot to check before the trip.
Pregnancy test
You remembered you took one a week ago, and your boss had called you into work just before you were supposed to fly out. Fuck you completely forgot to check it.
Two lines...great, the universe is against you.
This was not the right way to find out about this...
Fuck.
-
(there will be a pt2 babies)
vote on how you want the ending
Love you guys.
first JJK post, and its an angst oop
update: PT 2 OUT NOW (ANGST VERSION)
PT2 OUT NOW- (FLUFF VERSION)
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2stepadmiral · 6 months
Text
After arriving in Metru Nui, the Turaga began to occasionally call each of the Toa ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, partially an acknowledgment of their past lives, partially to acknowledge the success that the Toa Nuva have earned, and largely as camaraderie in the bond that they share as Toa or former Toa.
Tahu outwardly acts like it’s only right that he’d be addressed as such, trying to make others believe that he accepts it in stride, but inwardly, he is humbled by the acknowledgment. The Turaga see through his bluster and appreciate his humility.
Onua is outwardly quite humble and appreciative when it happens, but inwardly, he doesn’t quite see himself as being worthy of being addressed by such wise beings as the Turaga, who he holds in high esteem, so he usually comes off as a little bashful when he responds in kind.
The Turaga started being reluctant to call Gali ‘sister,’ largely because she reacts to the title, by pushing herself a little too hard to prove that she is worthy of the acknowledgment. She once to stayed up all night for two days while repairing an aqueduct in Ga-Metru, and when she could barely keep awake during a meeting with the Turaga, everyone immediately decided that Nokama should not call Gali sister anymore.
Kopaka typically glances at whoever called him this and slightly nods, sort of a polite acknowledgment, but those who know him best, especially Nuju, know that he is actually quite touched by the endearment, and he has to be stoic to keep up appearances. Whenua, having the best hearing, has multiple times heard Kopaka whisper ‘thank you, brother’ in response to Nuju or Vakama.
Takanuva started out being quite flustered when he was called brother by any of the elders, still being unused to being called brother even by the other Toa, but as he grew used to his powers and his responsibilities, he began to accept it in stride. He still won’t return the title, since he still uncomfortable with the idea of calling any of the Turaga by that term, but he is still moved by the respect they show him.
Lewa was delighted when they started calling him brother, But he’s also somewhat amused, often laughing when they call him that. To Lewa, it’s still difficult to imagine these wise old beings as Toa heroes, so he can’t always keep himself from laughing. Even so, he never fails to respectfully return the honorific.
The Toa Mahri have varying degrees of acceptance of the honorific. Jaller is proud to carry the title, and Hahli is eager to prove herself worthy of the honorific (though not as much as Gali). Kongo is a bit smug about it, Nuparu takes it in stride, and Hewkii tends to get sort of ‘aw, shucks’ about it. All of them are somewhat muted in their response, mostly because Nuju was the first to call them brother and sister. They all understand that Nuju calls them that as much as he does in memory of Matoro, and his regret that he never got to see his friend as a Toa and call him ‘brother’ in person. The Mahri learned the bird speak for Brother and Sister, and they always call Nuju brother right back.
And the Turaga universally agreed never to call Pohatu ‘brother’ again shortly after the first few times. After then, he began exclusively referring to the Turaga as brother or sister, always with extreme enthusiasm that the elders often find exasperating and often demanding fist bumps from any Turaga he encounters for days after. Most of them just quietly stopped calling him that, except for Onewa, who continued occasionally calling him brother when he felt he had earned it, but after Pohatu found out that Turaga Dume had been a Toa, the seven had an official meeting where they unanimously voted not to call Pohatu brother anymore. Matau still occasionally calls him that, though, because he personally thinks it’s fucking hilarious when Pohatu tries to fist bump Nuju.
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