#Holy shit that’s a lot of dividers
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INTRODUCTION
Hiii I am TrezoBlossom :33 or just Trezo (please trezoblossom was my fathers name)
Name/username: Trezo
age: 69 (/j)
nationality: American amen 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅 /j
pronouns: They/them (I’m still a girl I just prefer non-binary pronouns)
CURRENT MAIN HYPER FIXATION: Madoka magica 🌸💎 Vocaloid 🎶🤖
favorite food: Mozzarella sticks
favorite show: Madoka magica
favorite book: hooky
favorite game: Omori
favorite song: Cheap properties - frog96
favorite animal: Cats
likes: Vocaloid (especially teto) anime figures, heathers, tma and ch&t, needy streamer overload, spy x family, Oshi no ko, cult of the lamb, pui pui molcar, bocchi the rock, digital circus, murder drones, Omori, Ena, gravity falls, amphibia, Scott pilgrim, bfdi
pink means current big interests. (I tend to switch hyperfixations very quickly)
Dislikes: Content farms, HH and HB, and art block
fun facts: I collect anime figures especially nendoroids. And if you say to me “Erm actually teto isn’t a vocaloid ☝️🤓” I will personally murder you — LET HER BE HAPPY PLEASE SHES SUFFERED ENOUGH
Tags I use:
#trezoblossom - for posts specifically about my art and characters
#trezoblossom doodles - little random thoughts with silly emoji like doodles of my silly oc doing silly like things
Mutuals: @moldy-guacamole @nerdyeli @zeros-dumpsterfire @sashathegirliepop @luckylov3
#intro post#introduction#trezoblossom#vocaloid#needy girl overdose#nendoroid#kasane teto#pui pui molcar#omori#digital circus#murder drones#bocchi the rock!#spy family#Cult of the lamb#ena#tma podcast#ch&t#heathers#cheap properties#madoka magica#Holy shit that’s a lot of dividers#scott pilgrim
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people in the notes of that post being like "i didn't even know queer was a slur until right now" is so embarrassing you couldnt waterboard that out of me. please pick up like a single book about lgbt history before joining the discussion
#what world are you all living in....#also even IF you believe it's been 'reclaimed enough' (not a thing that can happen)#it's still not 'just another word'#it's a word with a lot of history and hurt behind it like. holy shit the wording in that poll is all horrible lmfao#it can never just be 'another word' when there are a lot of ppl alive today that had it wielded against them#and then ppl literally acknowledging in the notes that ppl DO still use it as a slur. and then saying 'but its not a slur'#'they use it in the south' ok so it's a slur? or do you just not give a shit about southern lgbt people? lmfao#i hate this stupid argument so much. the refusal to acknowledge the history behind a word#and the refusal to respect other lgbt people's feelings around such a charged word#is just so evil to me. but for some reason the ppl that are most hurt by it are always the 'unreasonable' ones#that are dividing the community#and not the ppl using literal slurs against ppl that are asking them not to#like even if the poll said that 99% of people didn't think queer was a slur anymore#and only 1% did#that 1% is still important. we should still respect that and make space for them
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an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+
summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.
warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)
word count: 4.3k
a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.
divider by @saradika
“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?
Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.
The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.
When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.
As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.
Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.
“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.
When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.
Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.
He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.
“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.
“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”
–
Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.
And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.
“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.
He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.
“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.
“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on.
He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”
“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”
He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.
You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”
He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression.
“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”
The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.
“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.
Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand.
“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.
“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it.
“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”
You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.
“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.
Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”
You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state.
“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”
He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”
You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.
There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.
“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.
He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.
“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap.
“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows.
You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you.
“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.
With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.
Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.
“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”
It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.
A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”
You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.
“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”
He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.
You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.
“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.
“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.
“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”
You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches.
“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.
“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”
“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”
“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against.
You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.
“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.
With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”
You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can.
Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.
“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.
So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain.
“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.
“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.
“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”
You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.
“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”
“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…”
Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.
So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is.
Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.
tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)
#my writing#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#daddy!joel miller#joel miller smut
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BOTH | Yungi x reader
Genre: +18, MDNI, smut, fuck buddies, University!AU
Pairing: Ynho x reader, Mingi x reder
Word Count: 4.2 k
Summary: You've liked Yunho for a long time and don't mind having fun with him alone, but what if Mingi joins in? Well, you should play with both.
WARNING: light MxM, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.
Holy Bunnies Tag list: @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism
A/N: My precious bunnies are having a special day. I'm here to treat you to something sweet and savoury. It's not much because I didn't have a lot of time today, but it's my hope that it's to your liking. And I know it's been your wish to have me do Yungi. Lots of love, my bunnies.
dividers @cafekitsune
As you ran your hand over his head, Yunho's blond hair felt so soft and silky under your fingers. Your tongue curled around his in a seductive way as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling up the already short dress that you were wearing. The kiss was heavenly—sweet but passionate—and you felt a little dizzy, or was it the amount of alcohol you'd had? As you sat on the table with your legs wrapped around his slender waist, pulling him closer to his neck, your kiss grew more intense and sloppy with each passing second.
You hadn't expected the night to end like this. But you hadn't come here to argue. After a long dance that felt more like a dry hump, in the middle of a drunken house party you'd both been invited to by your mutual acquaintances, you'd snuck into an empty bedroom for a hot kissing session that promised to escalate into equally hot, and you really hoped so, rough sex. Hell, you really wanted Yunho to blow your brains out; you could already feel how big and thick his cock was through his jeans, and you hoped that the boy would know how to make good use of it.
You'd liked Yunho for a long time—sweet as candy, but with that spicy sugar daddy flavour—definitely your type, so the possibility of being alone with him tonight seemed like a dream come true. The scenario was perfect; you'd spent the evening teasing each other, and when his gorgeous, wiry hands went under your dress as you danced, you knew exactly where it was going.
You couldn't tell who had given up first or how you had ended up in this bedroom, but that was of little interest to you at the moment. Especially when Yunho's big hand began to massage your breasts through your dress, you couldn't wait to feel those long fingers inside your pussy.
Just as you were about to undo the waistband of his jeans, you heard the bedroom door open. As you glanced in that direction, you rolled your eyes in irritation and pulled yourself away from Yunho's soft, flushed lips. With his arms crossed over his broad, muscular chest and the tip of his tongue poking the corner of his plump, sensual lips, Mingi leaned against the doorjamb with a cheeky grin.
"Don't mind me. Keep having fun, baby." His voice was deep and husky, sexy as hell, and your pussy clenched involuntarily at the sound. Shit. Mingi, locking the door behind him, walked over to the bed and collapsed on it, resting his hands on the mattress behind him and spreading his legs apart, a mischievous grin playing on his handsome face as he watched you and Yunho, who, by the way, was completely ignoring Mingi's presence, now planting hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
Song Mingi was a narcissistic bastard who knew he was incredibly attractive and sexy. You wanted to slap him to wipe that smug look off his face. Or, more likely, ride his big, thick cock to make him whimper and gasp. And you knew from experience that that was exactly what he was going to be like—hot and completely lost in pleasure.
"Mingi, not right now." You told him, screaming as Yunho's fingers rubbed your pussy through your lace panties; you were already incredibly wet from the blond man's confident caresses, and Mingi's presence only made you even more wet.
"Oh, the doll is getting feisty, isn't she? Wasn't that the way you were talking to me when my tongue was licking your pretty, tight cunt, or do you need a reminder of what you did last Saturday?" He licked his plump lower lip and reminded you with a cheeky grin. All in all, you weren't in need of a reminder; the way you were rolling on top of his face would be hard to erase from your memory.
That seemed to have finally gotten Yunho's attention, causing him to pull away from your neck, and oh, God, you were in a panic; you wanted that cock, and you weren't about to give it up because Mingi couldn't control his damn mouth.
"I had no idea you and Mingi were... together."
You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes, getting annoyed. Fuck Song Mingi and his big mouth, and fuck you for even deciding to sleep with him last weekend. In your defence, you were very horny, and he looked like a wet dream in that sheer mesh top. And need you tell how juicy and delicious his thick thighs looked in those leather trousers that clung to him like a second skin?
Girl, there was no way you could resist that, even if you were a nun.
Fully prepared for him to turn and walk away, leaving you horny and unsatisfied, you looked longingly into Yunho's handsome face. But when you noticed that there wasn't an ounce of jealousy or annoyance in his features, you were genuinely surprised. His chocolate-honey eyes darted from you to Mingi, his eyebrows slightly raised in a silent question he didn't dare ask out loud. But the way his cock twitched against your thigh or the way his pupils dilated told you that Yunho knew exactly what he wanted. Oops, it turns out that Jeong Yunho wasn't as sweet and vanilla as you thought he was. And Mingi, well, Mingi was clearly the type with some damn spicy tastes.
"Since both don't care..." Mingi just shrugged his shoulders and got up from the bed to come over to you and Yunho.
And if you weren't reliving your most forbidden and wet dream right now, you wouldn't know what else to call it, because something about the way Mingi's long, ringed fingers grabbed Yunho's chin and pulled him in for a kiss clearly did something to you. Mingi's pierced tongue slipped between Yunho's slightly pink lips, and you were drooling, a new batch of viscous fluid pouring out of your pussy from the lewd show in front of you. The blond man's hands were on your body for a second, but it was only a moment before he responded to the rough kiss.
You knew how it felt. To see two fucking hot guys literally fucking each other in the mouth, and you were about to come just looking at that.
Mingi was the one who wanted to stop kissing Yunho; instead, he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him for a hungry and aggressive kiss. It tasted like a mixture of champagne and raspberries to you, which was extremely sophisticated for Mingi's cocky appearance, but Song Mingi loved to surprise, and he was just as good at it as he was at fucking.
Without hesitation, you responded to the kiss and immediately let his long tongue enter your mouth and lick you from the inside out. Mingi's fingers tugged hard at your hair as he tried to drink your very soul through the bloody kiss, and Yunho's now impatient hands pulled your dress off your chest, the cold air of the room making your nipples instantly tense. You moaned into Mingi's lips as the blond man's fingers circled your nipple, tugging lightly. Watching the pink, swollen bud roll between Yunho's long fingers, growing harder and redder under his care, the brunet's eyes dropped.
His mouth filled with saliva and his cock twitched in anticipation; he could already feel pre-cum dripping from his swollen head.
"I must fuck you, or I'll lose my mind." Mingi growled as he pressed his forehead up against yours. You chuckled slightly at how quickly his insolence vanished as the prospect of getting his cock wet loomed.
"Guess you'll have to do that then, boys."
"Oh, that's exactly what we'll do, baby." Yunho whispered in your ear as he pressed his fingers to your clit. Oh shit. Was that honeyed voice always going to be so hoarse and dominant? God, there was a hidden threat in Jeong Yunho. "Bed, immediately." He ordered as he scooped you up in his arms and carried you over to the big bed that was neatly made up. You were already starting to imagine the mess that the three of you were going to leave behind.
Mingi was already sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, and you pushed him onto his back, riding on his slutty, thin waist, trying to take the initiative, but he just grinned.
He grinned wickedly at your attempt at dominance, but let you do what you wanted. He pulled your dress off as you left hickeys on his neck. It didn't take long for you to be pulled up against Yunho's big, hot body, and the blond man greedily took your lips in a wicked, aggressive kiss. It looks like you won't be playing with him like a puppy tonight. While Yunho was devouring your mouth, Mingi was crawling off the bed to take off his trousers and his sleeveless top, which, in truth, left very little to the imagination.
"Oh my God, Yunho, I want to taste you." You said this as you broke the kiss and moved further down the bed, motioning for him to follow you. You pulled off his shirt and ran your hands over his smooth, milky skin, sure that by the end of the night you would have left him with countless hickeys and scratches as he stripped off his jeans and underwear. When he was comfortably settled on the bed, you found yourself between his spread legs and began to kiss his neck, slowly trailing kisses down the heaving ridges of his chest and below, sliding your tongue along the pronounced outline of his firm abs.
When your head reached his crotch, you looked up innocently through fluffy lashes, knowing exactly what drives men mad, and licked your lips hungrily, running your tongue in deliberate slow motion over the plump flesh, arching your spine as you arched your arse. Beautiful boys deserve nothing but the best service. And while you wanted to be bold and dirty with Mingi, you wanted to be a gentle and submissive princess for Yunho. To be showered with praise and fucked like there was no tomorrow. And that was definitely at the top of your list of things to do in life, at least for today.
Yunho stroked his big hand over your head as if he were caressing a kitten and pressed the back of your head so that your head sank down onto his hard, massive cock. And God, it was huge, thick, and wiry, with a big, reddened head that was already dripping with pre-cum. It was a real treat for an obedient girl.
"Come on, baby, don't be shy. Show me what a good girl you can be for me." You obediently hugged at the head of his cock with your lips, savouring the low, husky moan of his as your tongue circled around it and collected the brackish liquid. Your palm could barely encircle its length as you ran it up and down, feeling the heat and throbbing of his cock as you rubbed the thick, protruding vein several times. You smeared the pre-cum and drool that flowed from your open mouth onto his cock. Swirling your tongue around the velvet head to find out what he liked best, you concentrated all your efforts on that.
Yunho threw his head back, revealing the long, seductive length of his neck, and rolled his eyes in pleasure.
"Such a good girl; you'll let me fuck you in my mouth, won't you?" You moaned around him, sending pleasurable vibrations down the length of his cock, and relaxed your mouth to allow Yunho to push his hips up and push his thick cock deeper down your throat. As Yunho wrapped both hands around your head to hold you in place, you grabbed his hips and tried to find some stability, waiting for what would happen next. The next movement of his hips pushed the head of his cock against the back of your throat, and he let out a long moan as he felt your soft, wet throat tighten around him. The sound he was making was almost enough to make you come. "That's it." The low growl in his voice gave away the more sadistic part of his personality before he returned to honeyed tenderness as he held your face in place, pressing his balls against your chin. He enjoyed the way your eyes filled with tears and the soft gurgling sounds you made around him. "Take it like a good girl. You'd like me to be proud of you, wouldn't you? Then choke the hell out of it. Make Daddy proud." He moaned again as your hands dug into his meaty thighs. But Yunho was too intoxicated by the feeling of the walls of your throat contracting each time you swallowed around his cock to notice the vicious nail marks you left on his skin.
All of a sudden, you felt a pair of strong hands grab your hips from behind and dig their fingers into your soft flesh, leaving bruises in their wake. You were so lost in the way Yunho was fucking your mouth that you almost forgot that Mingi was there too. You didn't realise what you'd let yourself in for until Mingi's fingers started to pull your panties down until they were thrown somewhere on the floor. Your wet, pretty cunt was completely exposed to his gaze. As you felt Mingi's hot breath on your naked pussy, you couldn't hold back a loud moan. His fingers parted your soft pink folds before he took a long, slow lick of your pussy, his pierced tongue causing your hole to clench up from the action. A low purr vibrated in Mingi's chest as he tasted you on his tongue, weakly rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit as he plunged the tip of his tongue into your narrow entrance.
"You better squirt in my face, doll, or you won't get my cock." His plump lips touched your pussy with every word he said and for a moment you completely lost control, dulled by the sensation of Mingi licking and tonguing your cunt.
Taking advantage of your distraction, Yunho pressed harder his cock to your throat. You felt dizzy and tried to suppress your gag reflex as the thick, long cock plunged deeper. With each thrust, the outline of his cock began to bulge as he thrust against you. Yunho was definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, and you thought Mingi had been rough with you the last time. The only thing that kept you motivated now was the gentle smile that flashed across the handsome face of the blond man as he continued to choke you with his cock.
And damn your praise kink, it made you want to give him even more pleasure. You wanted to be his good girl, the only girl who was able to warm up his big, fat cock so well in her mouth. And for his praise, as long as he kept looking at you with that gentle pride in his chocolate honey eyes, you were willing to let him get away with whatever he wanted.
You quickly regained your composure and relaxed your throat enough to let Yunho fuck you the way he wanted. You looked up again, looking for his approval, admiring the way he was breathing hard and hitching, the deep blush spreading across his cheeks and neck. And the way he was concentrating on Mingi, who was literally drinking your pussy as if he was dying of thirst. But apparently that's not enough for him, because you feel Mingi release your hips for a second, only for him to change position - and now your now swollen cunt is hovering over his face. A loud slap on your buttocks makes you whimper and drool all over Yunho's cock as he mercilessly fucks your mouth like his personal cock sleeve.
"Now lower your sweet cunt right on my face and ride like an obedient girl. Do you understand me, dolly?" The cold metal ball barely touched your clit as he spoke, his hot breath blowing around your folds. Mingi mumbled approvingly beneath you as you moaned and pressed your pussy against his face. "And remember baby. First you squirt - then I fuck you." Without warning, two long fingers with massive rings entered you, stretching your warm silky walls. Your pussy sucked them in with need as Mingi's lips encircled your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue immediately beginning to flick across the sensitive flesh. Oh, fuck.
The stimulation makes you almost buckle at the knees and pushes your cunt even harder against his face. Mingi is sucking hard on your clit, pressing down on it with his piercing as he continues to stretch you with his fingers, his other hand guiding your hips to help them roll over his face.
Hell, he might not mind dying between your legs; your cunt was so perfect—sweet and plump and pink, and God, he loved every moment of it. When his fingers found your golden centre and began to rub relentlessly, you rolled your eyes in pleasure and moaned softly. The vibrations of your voice made Yunho shiver.
Holding back a wry grin as he watched you gasp for breath, a mixture of saliva and tears dripping down your face, he finally let go of you and pulled you away from his cock. Yunho let you struggle to catch your breath, but you failed to breathe. But you hadn't had a chance to breathe when Mingi's tongue began rubbing against your clit with renewed vigour, causing you to roll forward, face against Yunho's thigh. "Look at you. You're so damn beautiful for us, aren't you? Pretty girl, you will do as you are told and come all over Mingi's face, won't you?" Yunho strokes your hair lovingly as he watches the brunette suck your pussy like a leech. The room fills with obscene slurps and squelches, punctuated by a mixture of Mingi's deep moans and your weak whimpers, and Yunho wouldn't mind taking his place now and licking you clean, and maybe he'll do it later today.
Mingi releases your clit from his lips to run his tongue greedily around the edges of your stretched-out hole a couple of times before he pulls his fingers out with an obscene squelch and replaces them with his talented pierced tongue, fucking you fast and hard until your walls are closing in around him.
"Oh, shit. Fuck, Mingi. Fuck!" You curse as you feel his plump lips curl into a smug and lecherous smile. He swirls his tongue inside your hole, dragging the metal ball on his tongue along your sensitive, trembling walls. He eats you like a fucking animal, growling into your pussy and thrusting harder, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit.
"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Yunho asks, licking his lips as if he's trying to taste you, and Mingi just moans in response, lapping up your juices as if it were his last meal on earth. You begin to feel the familiar tension building in your belly with every passing second. The sharp tip of Mingi's tongue pierces your walls, and his nose rests against your clit. Your hips start to shake, you start to stiffen, and your pussy clenches to hold the hot, slippery appendage inside.
"Damn, Mingi, I'll cum." You moan in a hoarse voice, and he slaps your arse so hard it makes you squeal. You can feel him grinning into your cunt before his teeth brush against your clit and he bites into a bundle of nerves in an experimental way.
You squeal so loudly that it seems the whole house can hear what you're doing, and to be honest, you don't really care. Let the bitches be jealous; the boys are yours. Right now, one of the hottest boys in the world is Song. Mingi is fucking your pussy with his amazing tongue, and the big fat cock of the most beautiful boy in the whole university is rubbing sweetly against your cheek. Mingi is purring softly, like a contented giant cat, as you rub your helpless body against his face. You flex your hips, squeeze his face between your legs, and force his lips into a curl in order to stimulate your hole.
The whole of your body was on fire and in the sky at the same time. Mingi's huge hands gripped the small of your back, and his own breathing became ragged as you rode on his face and shamelessly screamed out his name. Your whole body tensed like a cord; you sobbed heavily, the tears dropping from your face onto Yunho's thigh, to which you were still clinging, your thighs trembling with pleasure. You were nearing orgasm, the hot sensation of release bubbling under your skin like boiling water. As Mingi slammed the palm of his hand down on your plump buttocks once more, causing the soft flesh to tremble and blush, you came. The orgasm was absolutely devastating, with your juices pouring into his hungry mouth and Mingi gobbling them up greedily, but it still wasn't what he was looking for from you.
You had to squirt, and Mingi was not going to stop until you did. He lifted your hips off of his face, only to have two of his fingers dive into the tightness of your cunt. You gasped for breath and tried to pull away from him, squealing and biting at Yunho's thigh. With his other hand, Mingi pressed you against his face, while he continued mercilessly and roughly fingered your over-excited pussy, now flowing like a waterfall.
Mingi pulled away from your clit with a wet bang, then flattened his tongue and used a small metal ball to stimulate your tortured clit. You felt the onset of a second orgasm, and your walls tightened around Mingi's fingers, the heavy, solid rings pressing against your plush flesh. His wet lips and chin opened and closed slowly as he breathed heavily and continued to torment you.
"Come on, sweetie, squirt on his face so I can finally fuck you. Fucking princess, come for us." Yunho growls as he wraps his fingers around your cheeks and turns your face around so that you're looking at him. "Make your daddy proud." The tone of his voice and the demand itself send you over the edge of euphoria as you shake your whole body and experience an embarrassingly intense orgasm, splashing Mingi's chin and lips with your juices as he swallows them with a satisfied smile. Mingi presses your hips up against his face and helps you through a powerful orgasm, your eyes rolling.
Your eyes are rolling up, your mouth is opening, and your tongue is flicking out. You're so fucked already, and they haven't even fucked you right, but fuck you want them to, and even if you pass out somewhere along the way, you'll be riding their dicks tonight.
Mingi rests his nose against your pubic bone for a second and lets out a heavy sigh before he picks you up and climbs out from underneath you. He gives you and Yunho one of his stupid, drunken smiles and licks his lips in satisfaction. Your juices run down his face, neck, and slowly rising chest as he crawls up to your face. But instead of giving you the attention you crave, his lips press against Yunho's in a completely wild and aggressive kiss that can hardly be called a kiss—it's all tongues and teeth.
When Yunho pulls away from him, he curves his beautiful lips loathingly.
"You bastard."
"You're the one who wanted to know what she tastes like. I'm just giving you a taste of heaven." Then he leans down and presses her wet lips to the side of his ear. "The doll can suck your cock as much as you want, but I'm going to be the one who drinks her pussy."
"I think you should stop measuring dicks and give me a good fuck instead, or should I find someone else to do it with?" You raised your head to look at them. Seeing the shocked look on their pretty faces after your words, a small smile formed on your lips.
"Looks like the doll is getting a little cocky, huh?" Mingi said to you as he pulled your boddy up to his chest.
You could feel Yunho's lips pressing against your ear before he whispered to you in his honeyed, sultry voice.
"Baby, if you misbehave, I'll have to punish you, and I have a feeling you won't be able to walk by the time I'm through with you."
"We'll be done." Mingi corrected him.
"Well, I guess I should just keep going and see what you can do. Because I'm pretty sure I can handle both of you."
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez x reader#cultofdionysusnet#kpop smut#ateez fanfic#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#ateez ot8#ateez imagines#seonghwa smut#ateez san#san smut#hongjoong smut#ateez wooyoung#yunho smut
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Vouyer [Abby A.]
||Men, minors, and ageless DNI
CW: 18+, wlw, a lot of porn - a pinch of plot if you squint and turn your head, subbottom!abby, domtop!reader, Abby getting caught, masturbation, voyeurism cus reader watches her for a hot minute, fingering(A!receiving), tribbing, perv!reader and perv!abby kinda, overstimulation, Abby cries a lil bit
AN: I feel like my brain fizzed out near the end idk. I think I'm cooked. Anyways, hope this doesn't suck ass as much as my brain is telling me it does!
Masterlist. Divider creds DON'T FORGET ABOUT PALESTINE
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ "Just like that- fuck" the words escape her lips, sounding strained and breathless. A thin layer of sweat coats her toned body as she fills herself up to the best of her ability, her thick fingers ramming in and out of her used, sloppy cunt as she chases her orgasm for the third time tonight.
This was not how she had planned for her night to go, but if you could have only seen just how pretty you'd looked; drenched in sweat from head to toe, clothes sticking to every curve of your bruised and bloodied body after such a close call on patrol earlier that day. She'd almost compromised herself just to get a glimpse of you looking like that. Her piercing blue eyes tracked your every movement, once the threat - a pack of infected that had attacked while you were both searching for supplies - was gone.
Or at least she'd thought they were at the time until she felt a pair of gnarled and decaying hands grab onto her shoulders. She killed the thing herself, of course, knocking the stalker off balance with one hard whack of a steel pipe before throwing it onto the ground, forcing the heel of her boot down onto its sprouting head with a splat. Not realizing that it was you she had been distracted by, you gave her a disapproving eye roll and she winced.
It was her own fault you weren't that fond of her, the blonde has ignored you since you first showed up at the WLF a few months back. Even when you became roommates, Abby's demeanor towards you was always cold and disinterested. It was stupid but she figured it was best. She was unable to even think about saying a word to you without her palms sweating. She just knew she'd fuck up and stumble over her words, making herself look weak in front of you and she couldn't have that.
When Abby learned that you were going to spend part of your night drinking with Manny, Owen, and Nora, she took the opportunity to lie.
" 'm tired. Think I'm gonna just go to bed" she had mumbled, feigning exhaustion, going so far as to force a yawn out before she walked back to the room. Alone.
The girl didn't make it five minutes without touching herself, getting comfortable in bed, and shoving her hand down her underwear. Dumbly, she figured that maybe if she just got off once, she could get the image of you out of her brain.
That was how she got where she is now. Naked, driving her middle and ring fingers as deep as she can get them, pumping them in and out of her cunt, her other hand joining as she rubs feverishly over her sensitive clit. The scene is downright pornographic, the sloshing sounds coming from Abby's body as she fucks herself stupid on her own fingers, her jaw slack, your name spilling from her soft lips in sinful prayer.
She wants it to be you so bad, it's almost pathetic.
She can't bring herself to stop - she just knows it'd feel so much better if your hands replaced her own and the rest of her body seems to agree with that thought. So much so that every time she tries to stop or give herself a break that ache comes back full force, a heartbeat forming between her thick thighs. It gets so bad that she considers walking to your side of the room and grabbing one of your t-shirts because at this point your scent could get her there.
"Jus' one more, one more, baby pleasepleaseplease - holy shit"
That third orgasm hits Abby like a truck, her begging eventually becoming a mess of incoherent babbling under her breath, her body twitching as she comes down from her high. Again. And again, it isn't enough. She can't take her mind off of just how fucking good you would look on top of her - god - the mere thought of having your pretty pussy slotted up against hers is enough to make her crave more.
Abby lets out a deep sigh and plops her head back down onto the pillow underneath her as she tries to catch her breath, thinking maybe she should just try to sleep it off. Despite her better judgement though, she finds herself with the pads of her fingers back on her puffy, pulsing clit, stroking herself in languid circular motions.
You stood in the entryway of your room, peeking your head in the door to watch as Abby fucking Anderson of all people split herself on her fingers, letting out the prettiest moans as she chases her release. You knew that you should probably just close the door and quietly sneak away. Go back to the mess hall with your group, maybe pretend you forgot something, and then conveniently "lose track of time" while you were there so that your roommate could finish her little "session".
You really were going to leave. As a matter of fact, you were halfway through closing the door when you heard something that made you stop in your tracks. It was Abby.
And she was moaning your name.
The sound was unmistakable as it was one of the only words you were able to fully recognize through her stupor of bated breaths and blissed-out whining. The frigid, unstoppable force of a soldier that had been ignoring your existence for months was actually begging for you, crying out your name over and over again as she fucked herself.
You found yourself biting your lip at the sound, and before you knew it, you were tip-toeing all the way into your shared room. You practically held your breath as you closed the door behind you, freezing completely once it clicked shut and lightly punching the air in silent celebration once you had confirmed you managed to sneak in undetected.
It was all so perverted, and yet you couldn't stop staring
You were leaning up against the wall beside the door, trying your best to be quiet and resist the urge to shove your hand down your own pants as you watched Abby's naked body convulse under her fingers when she came, eyes trailing over her body as she rode out her high.
It became clear pretty quickly that she'd been at this for a while, unable to satisfy herself completely. You watched as she began to start herself up again, her hand making its way back down between her thighs, her legs twitching still from her previous climax. From what you can see of her face, she seems a bit frustrated, her eyebrows knotted together in almost anger as she lazily works her fingers on her clit. She looks and sounds so precious that, before you can fully think it through, you speak.
"Still not finished?"
Abby nearly falls out of her bed with how quickly she shoots upward, covering herself with her blanket, a deep red blush fanning out along her freckled cheeks. It doesn't take much for her to realize that you heard her, your expression telling her everything she needed to know.
"I was, uh-..."
"Yeah, I heard...and saw" you interrupt, making your way over to the blonde's bed, unable to contain your amusement at the situation as your eyes trail over her.
" 'S this why you've been avoiding me, baby?"
She just stares at you, not fully knowing why she can't bring herself to do anything - to deny your suspicion, yell at you, or do something that would make her stop feeling so vulnerable right now. But she just looks up at you, mouth slightly agape.
"You could have just asked me for some help with that if you wanted it, y'know." you continue, gently gripping her under her chin to make her look at you.
Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, Abby considers pulling away from you. Getting mad and reasserting her dominance or something but you both know that isn't going to happen. You catch a glimpse of her fingers, glistening and wrinkly from how long she's been trying to get herself off, and your suspicions are confirmed which only emboldens you to go further. You lean down a bit closer, your face so close to hers that your noses nearly touch.
"You can't satisfy yourself no matter how hard you try, can you?"
Abby squirms a little but she shakes her head slightly in response, eyes breaking contact with yours but your hand never releases her jaw. You've never seen her look this exposed before - not only in terms of her nakedness but she just looked so vulnerable and small right now, despite her actual size.
You press a kiss to her lips, and she practically melts into you, allowing you to lay her back down on the mattress and crawl on top of her, your hand caught in her loosened braid. The other hand wanders down between her legs, eager to feel the sticky mess that shes turned herself into over the thought of you.
The sweet little whines she gives you as you circle your fingers along her clit are so unfamiliar coming from her but oh so welcome as opposed to her usual stoicism. You almost feel bad for the fact that shes had to wait for so long to finally get that release shes in desperate need of. A release that can only seem to be triggered by your hand.
If Abby wasn't already embarrassed for having been caught, she was sure as hell embarrassed with how quickly you got her to cum on your fingers. You've barely gotten the chance to get them inside of her before her irises roll back, head thrown onto the pillow beneath her as her body twitches in ecstasy.
"S-sorry, I-"
You see her begin to apologize but she's cut off completely at the sight of you sucking her essence off of your fingers, her words being yanked right from her mouth as her arousal comes back with a force. She knows she's way too sensitive to do anything else, but the thought of saying no to you right now doesnt even cross her mind as an option once you start pulling off your clothes.
It's all she can do to keep her hands to herself while you strip. Those vivid blue eyes are glued to your body, enamored by the perfection being uncovered in front of her. You place yourself back on top of her, hiking her leg up over your shoulder and lowering yourself until her cunt is pressed flush against your own. You let out a simultaneous groan at the feeling, grinding yourself down onto her with little regard for how sensitive she is.
"Hnmn- fuck" Abby's hips buck upward involuntarily, her body telling her that she's had enough, but it feels too good to stop.
She couldn't tell you it was too much if she wanted to anyway, every attempted word coming out of her mouth as incoherent whines and half-finished syllables. You watch her face intently as a few tears begin to make their way down her reddened cheeks and it only makes you pick up the pace, pressing wet kisses against the side of her calf as your clit perfectly ruts against hers with each thrust.
"You've wanted this so fuckin' bad, haven't you?" You tease her through gritted teeth, the words spilling out without much thought.
"Want me to fuck you till you cant fuckin breathe, hm?"
All that comes out of Abby in response are breathless "yes's" all jumbled into one word followed desperate little whines, her fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as if she's afraid you'll stop if she lets go.
"G'na cu- ohmygod" she tries to warn but the poor girl can barely think. You hear her loud and clear though, making a point to apply a bit more pressure, the sloppy noises coming from your bodies moving against one another in tandem bringing you close as well.
The orgasm that results sends electricity through your body, pleasure that's only heightened by the uncontained scream that pulls from Abby's throat when she cums with you, drenching your inner thighs even more. She doesn't even seem to care if anyone hears her, too fucked out to even try to keep her mouth shut. Mercifully, you take the responsibility away from her, crashing your lips onto hers and muffling the sound in the hard, wet kiss.
The euphoria lingers even after you've slowed to a stop, heavy, labored breathing and Abby's soft whimpers the only sounds that occupy the room. A low chuckle escapes you as you pepper soft kisses along her cheeks, your thumb accompanying to wipe up her pretty tears.
AN: One thing I suck at doing is thinking of a way to fuckin close these
reblogs appreciated☆requests open
Almost forgot, taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @ikoinsblog
#lesbian#wlw#☆kennie's works#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby the last of us#the last of us#abby tlou2#tlou2 smut#tlou2
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mind blown (eddie munson x fem!reader)
summary: when you get a certain achievement while playing baldur's gate 3, it catches your boyfriend's eye.
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: slight spoilers for baldur's gate 3 game, TALK OF MONSTER FUCKING/TENTACLES, you literally have the option to fuck a monster in the game and that is the premise for this one-shot. it isn't described in great detail, but is a background bit. and eddie makes fun of you for it. a lot. oral (f receiving, insinuated m receiving at the end). use of nickname "good girl". minors dni.
wc: 3.5k+
a/n: for anyone who was forced to witness me rizz the emperor on my last bg3 stream - consider this my... apology? half the time i was writing this i couldn't take it seriously so please laugh with me.
also, shout out to @hellfire--cult for the best possible divider EVER.
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: MIND BLOWN!
You don’t even notice when the notification pops up in the lower left corner of your screen. It’s the smallest of blips, hardly signified by the quiet ding from your Steam account in a pitiful attempt to congratulate you for the monstrous crimes you were currently committing on your screen.
But hey, you’ve got to experience the entire game, right?
“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you click on the second dialogue option, eyes locked on your screen is disbelief in your own actions, “What the fuck.”
2. Take its tentacle in your hand, invite it in.
You watch in absolute awe as, who would have guessed, your Tav takes the tentacle in their hand, inviting the Mind Flayer in.
Oh, you’re not seeing Heaven for this. You’re getting kicked straight to Hell, receipts pulled up of this very moment in your lifetime. That time you only cackled when your younger sibling broke their wrist? Fine. That time you let a door slam shut on some random grandma? Forgivable.
But making your video game character fuck the tentacled-should-be-enemy? No, yeah, you’re heading straight to the flames.
“Oh. My. God.”
You really, really, really should have noticed the achievement notification. Should have considered the fact that this was an achievement at all. Should have considered that your achievement would be public. Should have noticed who was currently online, and who would be getting the notification of your sins.
Should of thought of your boyfriend, in the living room, playing the very same game on your shared gaming laptop that had been reduced to solely allowing the two of you to play Baldur’s Gate 3 at the same time.
But you’re too entranced by tentacles and embarrassment and shit, is this kind of hot? Is The Emperor kind of hot? to think of any of this until it’s too late.
One moment, you’re leaning far more forward than you had realized, drawn into the screen as your mouth hangs wide open in that continued naivety of disbelief that the game actually allowed this, and the next, two hands are landing on the back of your chair and shaking you out of the trance.
“Shit!” you can’t help but scream, scrambling wildly to yank off your headset with flailing hands. A few of your knuckles connect with something hard, and you spin quickly to find Eddie standing there with a hand clutched over his nose, “Oh my God, baby, I’m so sor-”
“Are you fucking the mindflayer?” he all but yells, not looking to be in an ounce of pain even as he continues to shield his face where your hand had blatantly smacked him. His eyes catch the screen in the same trance you had just been under before yelling out, “Holy shit, you’re fucking the mindflayer!”
“It’s not what it looks like-”
“You are literally fucking the space squid right now.”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“You’re fucking a glorified piece of sushi right now. You are literally-”
For the second time in the span of what hasn’t even been a full minute, your hand slaps Eddie’s face. This time, it’s more purposeful, slamming your palm right over his mouth before he can continue what you can’t even be sure is teasing.
And you’re missing the entire scene. Thank God for learning to quicksave as a reflex, you suppose.
“Eddie, I swear to God, do not speak another word when I drop my hand,” you threaten, no real violence behind your words as he glowers at you. You can see all that mischief swirling behind the look he gives you, every possible bad idea to ever exist in this Universe manifesting in those big brown eyes as they stare widely into yours. “Do you understand?”
He nods. Your mistake for trusting him, you suppose.
The moment your hand has dropped from him, it reveals that giddy smile, dimples screaming for your instant regret before he even opens his mouth to say, “Play it again.”
“Excuse me?”
“Go ahead,” he waves towards the screen where the scene is beginning to wrap up, your current companions interrupting the moment in horror. If you had still been entranced, you would have been an absolute mess. But all your focus had been stolen away to the boy towering over you, “Reload the save. Replay the scene for me.”
Your brows furrow as you cross your arms, shaking your head, “No.”
“No?”
“No,” you repeat yourself more firmly, leaning into your stubbornness, “I am not replaying the scene for you after you just made fun of me for partaking in it.”
Eddie wastes no time pouting as he throws himself down onto the bed nearby, looking at you with unimaginably forced disappointment, “Come on. You’re no fun.”
You hate how cute he looks right now. Bottom lip jutted out for dramatic effect, legs splayed out to straddle the corner of the bed. He leans back on his arms, torso elongating as you watch him take every steady and expectant breath. He looks determined.
Unlucky for him, you’re just as stoic in your decision.
“C’mon,” he whines softly, changing his approach when he realizes the cocky exterior isn’t chipping away at that set look on your face, no faltering in your decision to ignore his request, “Please? We both know that I’m not going to be fucking the squid, so this is my only chance to see the-”
“He’s not a squid,” you groan, starting to turn your chair to face the screen again and continue your gameplay, “Might I remind you just how hot my guardian was prior to the whole tentacle reveal? You can’t even blame me for succumbing to this, you know.”
His lips press together tightly, biting back a grin.
“Your guardian was very hot. But, pray tell, baby, why did you choose to fuck the tentacled version?” You’re not having this conversation. You blatantly refuse to, picking your headphones back up and beginning to slip them over your ears when Eddie’s hand shoots out to stop you, “Wait. I have an idea.”
“I’m not reloading the save so you can see the scene, Eddie-”
“What if…. I technically don’t watch the scene?”
You halt all movement willingly, headphones still hovering in midair even as Eddie takes his hand away. “What do you mean?”
He leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs, sly smile shimmering on his lips as he finally abandons the god-forsaken pout. He’s radiating pride as he simply asks, “Wanna have your mind blown in real life?”
Your entire body flushes with heat, starting to actually get embarrassed that Eddie wasn’t letting this go.
“With God as my witness, if you do not stop making fun of me for this, I will kick you out of this room and lock the door.”
“I’m not making fun of you,” he says slowly, inching off of the bed, dropping to his knees on the carpet of your shared bedroom, “Not in the slightest, sweetheart. I’m making you an offer.”
You eye him cautiously as he slowly makes his way closer to you. When he’s nearly tucked under your desk, you’re quick to bring your knees up, still terribly weary and unsure of where he’s going with this.
“What do you mean then, having my mind blown in real life?”
Eddie’s smile has gone downright salacious as he easily fits himself under the desk that holds your computer, situating himself perfectly so that if you were to drop your legs back down, he’d be kneeling prettily between your knees.
“Reload the scene. And drop your legs, yeah?”
He says it so casually, nonchalance dripping from his tone as if he’s just asked you to pass him salt or inquired about the weather rather than the actual request he was insinuating. It has your knees pressing more tightly together, your chin dropping on top of them as you stare down at him in the cramped space.
“Are you… are you seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting right now?” you question, each word falling from your mouth slowly.
It had been a while since either of you had really gotten your hands on one another. Not on purpose, of course. The two of you had simply fallen victim to the immersive game, spending most of your free time either playing your individual campaigns or joining one another on a multiplayer one. Afternoons melted away from gameplay, and the two of you were usually already to the point of exhaustion once you’d end up in bed together. There had been a certain lack of affectionate touches, suggestive squeezes of your thighs and faux-innocent kisses of the neck. And neither had noticed, minds equally preoccupied on thoughts of pixelated characters and harrowing journeys over a screen.
You can’t remember the last time either of you outright suggested sex.
“Deathly serious,” you can see the shine of his teeth as he flashes them in the dark space. You continue to hesitate until he quickly adds on, “Only if you want to, of course. If not, I can always fuck off and leave you to Squidwar-”
“I want to,” you interrupt, ignoring the new nickname for the Mind Flayer that he had started to taunt you with. You carefully let your feet slip off your chair, avoiding knocking him in the face with your ankles. He aids you, a careful hand running from the back of your knee and down your calf as he guides your legs to rest on his shoulders. The fact that you had started gaming without pants was suddenly very helpful.
“Good girl,” it’s sort of ridiculous, the way his words cut right to your core, nearly making you let out a small gasp. Your body is suddenly very aware of just how long the accidental bout of celibacy had been, “A few rules before we begin. You’re going to reload the scene, and really watch it this time. Headphones and all, got it?”
He places a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, and this time, you can’t bite back your little gasp. It only elicits a chuckle from him as you eagerly nod. You could care less about the game at this point, but you can’t seem to find the words to tell him this.
“If you stop focusing on the scene, I stop eating this pretty little pussy.”
If you weren’t so light-headed from the way his breath hits your clothed core currently, you’d probably see just how ridiculous this entire scenario was. It was downright laughable. Even a little shameful, honestly. By no means was it the weirdest situation that you and Eddie had turned into a game of sex, but it was certainly up there.
God, you were in love with a fucking weirdo. And it made you just as weird, if not weirder, as he was.
He gently slaps at your knee, forcing your attention to focus back on him, “Got it?”
“Got it,” you manage to choke out just as his hands begin to trail up to your hips, playing with the lace of your panties teasingly.
You lift yourself ever so slightly off the chair as he slips your underwear off, bringing the fabric down agonizingly slow. He has to shuffle plenty, guiding your limbs around just to finally remove the garment, but you hardly pay attention to all that awkwardness. Your Tav is still on the screen, awaiting instruction just as you were.
When Eddie finally has your panties off, knees back to hanging on his shoulders, you can hear him let out a soft groan at the sight of you.
“Fuck,” he sighs gently, leaning his cheek against your knee ever so slightly, “The tentacles really do it for you, huh? Already fucking soaking-”
“Shut up about the tentacles,” you groan out, throwing your hand back in exasperation, “For the love of God, please shut up about the-”
“Ah, ah,” he tsks, pulling farther away from you, “Might I remind you the whole point of this is all those tentacles on your screen right now, baby? Maybe I should have you hook up your speakers instead of your headphones just to make sure I can hear the entire scene.”
You’d honestly forgotten about the scene at this point. It was the least intriguing part of your evening now.
When you stay quiet, biting your lip to avoid making anymore smart ass remarks that would only prolong what you desperately wanted, desperately needed, he finally takes it as his cue.
That damn grin, dimples and all, look up at you with all the ill intent in the world as he gestures for you to slip on your headphones. You do it immediately, and just before you’ve fully engulfed your ears with them, Eddie says, “Now, please do the honors, and hit F8 for me, doll.”
Immediately, the only noise you can hear is the ambience from the game. One swift punch of your F8 key pauses it entirely, sudden music replacing it as the reload screen appears on the computer. Eddie waits, staring up at you for a few moments, probably having memorized just how long these damn reloads take from how much the two of you save scum in the game (Ironic, given during your first playthroughs, he’d scolded you endlessly for save scumming rather than just trusting the dice and letting it all play out.)
After a few beats of stillness, you can see the scene prepared and ready for you to begin to click the options again to initiate the scene in your peripheral. Your eyes are still locked on Eddie’s, though.
He makes no move to move any closer to you, though, still smirking before he finally mouths ‘watch the game’.
It’s only once you do as you’ve been told that he has his mouth on you.
He starts slowly as you distract yourself with the screen, peppering kisses along your knees and inner thighs, working his way towards your pussy. Teasing you, taunting you, dangling what he knows you want so badly that it aches and has you spasming around absolutely nothing. It takes more effort than you could care to admit to focus your vision on the dialogue options, and even more to remember which one is going to initiate the goddamned scene.
When your shaking hand reaches for the mouse and finally clicks the correct option (thank God), his mouth finally hovers over your slick folds.
Whatever the Emperor says falls on ringing ears. Subtitles are useless, the words blurring together on the screen when his tongue takes its first stride across your core.
Your knuckles are paling from how tightly you grip your poor mouse, and you almost consider what you would do if this situation leads to you breaking such a vital piece of the shared gaming setup, but Eddie’s mouth is quick to distract you. You feel the vibrations of the hums falling from his lips just as they trail to wrap around your clit, forming suction as he gives one harsh suck that has your mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Your eyes can barely manage to stay open as you blindly click for the next dialogue option being presented.
Kiss the tentacle and hope that it’s an erogenous appendage.
Not quite the same path you’d taken before, but it’ll get the job done. Especially when Eddie’s fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs even harsher, pressing himself even harder against you as his tongue dances over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Kitten licks, but every single one sends a bolt of electricity up your spine.
The sound that comes from the Emperor in the game doesn’t matter to you, completely overridden by the audible groan you can just barely catch from Eddie as your headphones begin to slip off.
Was that… a good sound?
You hadn’t noticed you’d breathily recited the words you read across the scene until movement below the desk catches your eye, and Eddie is nodding into your cunt more eagerly than the character on the screen could ever be capable of.
It’s the type of eagerness that has you whimpering, the kind of enthusiasm that guides one of your hands away from the keyboard and down to tangle into the roots of Eddie’s curls.
He’s going to be the death of you.
His grip tightens until he’s tugging your hips hard enough to bring you further slumped down in your seat, letting your thighs cradle either side of his head. His nose bumping your sensitive clit as his tongue circles teasing against your entrance. Once, twice – and then it dives in, pushing you to arch your back, a soft cry leaving you as you yank at his hair.
With a heaving chest, you find yourself reciting another line of words from the screen despite making no move to click any options, “Do it again. Please, God- do it again.”
He lifts to look at you at that, smiling wide with glistening lips and chin alike, “God? Oh, you’re making me blush, babe.”
“Eddie-” you start, but a smack on your thigh from one of his ringed hands effectively shuts you up.
“Play the game, and I’ll do it again.”
Your hand smacks against the mouse, and you must click the right option, the exact command you’d just demanded of Eddie, because the scene continues on.
You’re not watching the screen. Not consistently. Your eyes can’t stop flickering down to your boy, to his dark eyes shining up at you as he keeps his face buried between your thighs, the only thing giving away his current grin being the slightest crinkle beside those eyes.
The entire sequence from before is simply playing out, just as before, but your mind stays on the feeling of Eddie’s tongue on you. When he releases one of your thighs and brings his fingers into the mix, stretching you out far more fully than his tongue had, you’re preening beneath his touch. Gasps, moans, whimpers, sobs – they all fall from your lip as he knows just how to work you. All the right touches to bring your neglected body to the precipice, practically worshiping you on his knees as the brightness of the screen exposes your face to him. Eyes tightly screwed shut, mouth wide open, lips swollen from poor attempts to keep your noises down through biting them.
It only encourages him further. Only has him forgetting entirely about the game as well, the only goal on his mind being making you cum on his tongue.
And you do.
In hot waves, broken calls of his name, both hands tugging mercilessly on his hair. Your thighs are squeezing his cheeks tightly as you clench down on his fingers.
Somewhere between all the whispers of his name, numerous squeaks of please falling from your mouth, he slows down. He gives you a chance to bask in the after-warmth of it all, your entire body buzzing as you catch your breath. You truly, genuinely hadn’t expected to cum that quickly. But it had been a while, and if anyone knew your body well enough to get you off in record speed, it was the man currently still seated on sore knees with a winning grin on his face.
“Your headphones aren’t even on anymore, you cheater,” he teases, sounding just as out of breath as you felt.
You detangle your fingers from his hair, retracting your hands just far enough for one of them to flip him off, “Shut up.”
Your eyes are still closed, head leaning back almost painfully as the headphones cut into your neck. If you could live in this moment forever, you probably would.
He presses forward, placing a quick peck to your sensitive core that makes your legs try to squeeze together instinctually, “Make me.”
At those two words, you finally open your eyes, slowly lolling your head towards him, eyes narrowing at the challenge.
“Get off the floor and onto the bed, and I will.”
You don’t have to tell him twice.
The entire process somehow manages to remind you just how ridiculous the situation was. Watching Eddie clamber clumsily out from beneath your desk, cheekily flashing you the set of panties he’d taken off of you that he shoves into his pocket. Eyes glued on him as he flops himself down onto your shared bed, still looking far too proud of himself.
Your heart swells as you look at the absolute idiot, knowing he was yours.
“Well?” he asks expectantly, raising his eyebrows as he shimmies his shoulders jokingly, “You gonna make me or not, sweetheart?”
You’re quick to start to jump out of your chair, just eager to be close to him again, deciding the game could wait until tomorrow. Just as you do, however, Eddie puts up a hand, biting back an even wider smile.
“I’m only reminding you because I won’t hear the end of it otherwise,” he drawls, slowly pointing a finger back towards the desk, “Don’t forget to press F5.”
You roll your eyes, but you do as he says.
It works. It’ll save you time next time you reload the game – allowing you to skip the entire encounter, considering the way you’ve discovered there are far more fun ways to have your mind blown.
Now, however, it was Eddie’s turn.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin
@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87
@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck
@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking
@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore
@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog
@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp
@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
join my taglist!
(please let me know if the tagging worked!!)
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson one shot#ghost's stories
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Maybanks sister
part 4, chapter 1- let’s do this shit!
summary: after el dorado, your lives are finally getting back to normal. However, someone’s still missing from your life. After a long week, a run in with that someone is the last thing you needed.
a/n: ahhh! Finally some rafe and reader moments lol. they’re a bit in a pining but not talking stage right now. They’re gonna get to talk soon, don’t worry.
SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER
“-98.5%… gold.”
“And that translates to?”
“This is money. A whole lot of money.”
With a smile on his face and everyone else cheering, John B leaned over the table to shake the man’s hand.
You guys went straight to the gas station, with the nearest atm machine being inside.
“Moment of truth.” John B murmured, all of you crowding around the atm.
“Pin is 0-0-0-0… enter.” John B said, entering his pin into the machine.
“You’re kidding.” Sarah had to suppress a laugh.
“Tell me that’s a temporary pin.” You snorted, John B turning to look at you now.
“I thought nobody could guess-“
“You need to change that immediately, dude.” You told him with a loud laugh.
“I’m sorry-“ he turned his head back to the machine when it started to make noise, signaling it was ready.
“Here it comes.”
As soon as the paper came out, JJ reached for it before him and John B fought over it. “That’s me, that’s me,” he said, “let me read it!”
“It’s not even the money, it’s just the receipt!”
You rolled your eyes at the boys, John B winning in the end, opening and pulling it open.
“Okay, okay,” John B said, reading it. “Our joint account balance…”
“Mhm..”
He took a pause, before Cleo told him to get on with it, everyone impatient.
“Our joint account balance is… one point one million… seventy two thousand, five hundred and forty nine dollars.”
“You said mil?”
“Million?” You and pope asked at the same time.
“Um…” John B said, everyone processing just how much money that was.
“That’ll do it!”
He nodded in agreement, everyone cheering and celebrating, being unable to even comprehend just how much that was.
“Holy shit…” you spoke, you laughing to yourself, Sarah laughing with you.
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen on a piece of paper.” Pope said, you smiling and talking to Cleo.
JJ went over to the cooler, taking a beer out and downing it. Kiara glanced over at him, noticing his distance from everyone.
She walked over to him, “You can smile, you know.” She told him, leaning against the cooler.
He sighed, staring at her.
“Look, this doesn’t mean we’re kooks. Just means we have a little money now.”
“Okay, okay, wait, wait, wait, wait… hear me out. Really truck with yellow LEDS to replace the Twinkie for now.”
“That is by far one of the dumbest ideas I’ve heard from you.” You told your brother, rolling your eyes at him.
“I’m not getting rid of the Twinkie.” John B shook his head.
“But with solar panels… maybe. If it’s in the budget.” Kiara suggested, tilting her head to the side.
“And a bigger boat.”
“Guys, hold on. Hold on. It’s… it’s not like we can all go off and buy houses or anything. I mean split between all of us, that’s about 167,507 dollars. Minus what we owe barracuda Mike.”
“Let him try and come take this. I’ll mess him up.”
“I’ll mess him up for my damn leg.” You agreed.
“I’m just gonna say it. I don’t wanna piss off the drug dealer.”
“Listen, if we divide this up, we’re all gonna blow it.” Pope said, everyone turning their heads to Jj the moment he said that.
“Wow, okay. Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“It’s kind of obvious.” You retorted.
“-But maybe if we pool our money together, we can create something with actual economies of scale.”
“Like what?” Kiara asked him.
“You remember the island.”
“Duh.”
“Of course.” Kiara shrugged.
“I mean, it was our own island, and we built everything from basically nothing, right?”
“It was perfect.” Kiara said.
“The best life.” Cleo nodded.
“That whole island just to ourselves. All of us together.”
“It was nice..” you nodded in agreement with them all.
“I think we can have that again. Right here. I mean, Y/n’s and JJ’s property is going up for auction, right? So let’s buy it back. I mean, look around. A lot of land. Deep water access…” he motioned to the water behind him. “unless any of you are planning on going back to school, we’re gonna need a place to work, a place to stay and live. I think we can have both of those things here.”
“Well, it’s a nice idea, but I mean, we’d have to get the land first.” You told pope, he nodded.
“Then we could build like, a.. surf shop. And then maybe we can make our own dock.”
“This place does need a dock.” You nodded, smiling at the image.
“Ooh, what about like a bait and tackle shop?” John B suggested.
“Yeah,”
“Exactly. And… and who knows these waters better than us?”
“Nobody.” You replied.
“JJ, y/n, you guys can get a new boat and run a fishing charter. We can all live and sleep in the house-“
“Just a small warning, if this works, I am not picking up after you little shits.” You told them all, specifically staring right at Jj.
“Hey! Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who-“
You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling his hair like you would do when you were kids.
“Because we all know how messy you are.”
“I’m not messy-“
“You most definitely are, yeah.” Sarah retorted, him huffing and shoving you off of him while the rest of you laughed.
Before the auction, you went up to Jj, pulling him to the side.
“What?” He asked you, glancing at his friends in front of you all.
“Hey, I know how you’re feeling about the house and shit, but please, don’t do some stupid shit?”
“Don’t worry, sis. We’ll get the house back easy.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, jay.”
“I’m not gonna… do some stupid shit, alright? Trust me. I got this.” He held his hand up.
You sighed, he did not have this.
“Here’s the plan. We go up in one-dollar increments, all right? It’s gonna take a while, but we’re gonna need to save every cent we have for construction.”
“Popes on point, JJ. Got it?”
JJ let a hum, although he hesitated.
“Don’t change the plan.” Pope stared at the pair of you and your brother, you looking offended.
“Hey, don’t look at me, look at this idiot.” You poked your finger into JJs head, him rolling his eyes at you.
Everyone turned to the auctioneer, him pointing to the picture of your dad’s property.
Honestly, you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if you didn’t get the house. You grew up in that house, and while you may have a lot of bad memories in those walls, you loved it the same. It was like you could still hear the laughter of you and JJ as kids echoing off the walls.
It was a part of you at this point.
And you knew Jj felt the same way, you could tell it in his eyes.
“-The foreclosure sale of 14 Roger’s point road. Now, this is the old Maybank place.”
“You know, uh, the cuts gonna be figure 8 in a few years. You walk away now, you won’t have to scurry off with your tail between your legs… and I’ll, uh, give you a little taste on the back end.” he spoke to you lowly, you staring at the man in disbelief.
“You’re gonna be dead before that happens.” You told the man, annoyed at what he had just said.
He stared at you with raised eyebrows through his glasses.
“Hey, Dale, was it?” JJ pushed you to the side, standing in front of the man now.
“That’s correct.”
“It’s not happening, hoss.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s play ball.”
You stared at Pope, already knowing what would go down.
“150 bid, bidder with 200, I’ve got 200…”
…
“I’ve got 775,000 bid,”
“This is way over our price range.” Pope told John B.
“Will you make him stop, please?” Sarah asked him:
“Get him out of here.”
John B went over to JJ, who you’ve already attempted to stop multiple times.
“Hey, please, it’s too much.”
“Just let me handle this. I’ve got it.. dude, I’ve got it!” He fought John b off of him, “775,010, right here, sir.” Jj shouted.
“775,010 to the gentleman in red.”
“Oh my god!” Pope groaned.
You sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. Your brother was dumb to be paying that much, but you knew, deep down, you knew why he did. No one else would understand, but you would.
“That’s too rich for my blood, Rog.” Zeasy spoke, John B and Jj staring at each other.
“775,010 bidder, looking for 8…”
The auctioneer continued on, “going once, going twice, sold right here to the gentleman in red. Congratulations.”
Everyone in the group groaned, Jj turning back to Zeasy, holding his hand out.
“The most expensive property in the cut, and it’s not worth it.” He chuckled.
“Well, it is to us, sir. Now, if you can scurry off to your side of the island, and stay there, that’d be appreciated.” He waved his hand, wrapping his arms around John B.
“I get shit done. We got it. That’s all that matters. Whoo! All right.”
“What an idiot.” You murmured to yourself.
“33% above market value. Wildly overpaid. Thats like all the money.” Pope told John b, before walking past him.
You stared at JJ, him looking back at you.
“What?” He asked, you shaking your head at him.
“Well, would you like to do the honors or should I?” You asked your brother, both of you standing in front of the caution taped door.
He shrugged, his hands going to the ends and beginning to rip it off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I christen thee Poguelandia 2.0.” He spoke, holding the ripped up caution tape in both hands before throwing it.
You stared at him, ripping off the remaining tape.
“Let’s turn this piece of shit into our home.” You told him with a small smile.
“Let’s do it.”
He smiled back, both of you doing your usual handshake, before he opened the door and saluted to the rest of the group.
“We’re home, y’all.”
Construction on the house was the hard part of it all, everything you guys had bought and used had been as cheap as possible, even using old wood from your dad’s old shed.
And finally, after months of construction, you all felt like you had finally perfected it. JJ had his own charter, everything had been feeling normal. Better than normal.
JJ put the sign down at the dock, a proud smile on his face as he stared at everything you all had accomplished.
“Think we’re about done.” You told John B, both of you nodding and smiling, doing a handshake of your own.
“Hey, guys!” JJ called from down the dock, his hat in his hands. “I think we did it.”
“Hell yeah we did!” You shouted back.
“We’re in business baby! Wow!” He shouted, you and John B laughing at his antics. “Oh my gosh, this feels good!” He pumped his fist in the air, and this was the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him.
Everyone watched with a smile on their faces, watching him cheer on and celebrate.
“That boys mad.” Cleo laughed, you nodding in agreement.
He got on the boat, “Captain Maybank at your service! Now that has a ring to it! Nothing can stop a pogue. Nothing!”
All of you laughed, watching him jump off and onto the dock.
“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!”
“Yeah!” John B shouted.
“Is he okay?” Sarah laughed, Kiara watching him with a smile on her face.
“Yeah. Yeah. He just never really had a home. He’s happy.”
You listened to the girls conversation, finding yourself smiling at it.
He began to dance, talking wildly to himself.
“Slow down, you’re killing ‘em!”
“Twinkle toes, all right!”
Kiara laughed, walking down to the dock, “having fun?” She asked him.
“A little bit.”
“Yeah?”
“What?” He asked, her staring at him with a wide smile on her face.
“I love you.”
He got closer to her, both of their lips crashing into each others.
You whistled at them, John B howling while Sarah laughed.
“We did it.” JJ pressed his forehead against hers, her arms wrapped around his body.
“We did. Somehow.”
“But we did it. We did it!”
That day was one that you swore you’d never forget, seeing him happy like that, that was all you wanted in your life.
Yet, intertwined with the moments of joy, there was a bittersweet ache in your heart. Thoughts of him, of Rafe, drifted through your mind.
It’s been almost two years, and you were still in love with him.
You couldn't shake the memories, the way his laughter would echo in your ears, the warmth of his presence that seemed to haunt your every thought.
A sense of longing wrapped around you, refusing to let go, painting your happiness with unfulfilled desire.
It was as if you could still imagine him looking at you, a small but soft smile on his face.
You knew he wouldn’t want to talk to you, he probably wouldn’t want to even see you.
He probably hated you now, you thought. After you told him about his dad, maybe he didn’t want to see you at all.
Unfortunately, a large thunderstorm the night before had knocked out the power, causing the live bait to pass away, everything ruined.
“What’s the damage, pope?” JJ asked him, pope sighing.
“Fuse box is busted. Without the live bait, the fishermen won’t come, and there goes half of our business right there. We have enough profit to cover it, but barely, just barely. All right?”
Pope walked over to a jar, pulling it down from the cabinet it was in. “This is it.” He pulled out a smaller jar of gold. “The last of our AU.”
“Uh, what?”
“What?”
“English, please.” You snickered.
“Gold. It’s the periodic symbol for gold.” He told you all, as if it was obvious.
“Why not just say gold?” You asked him
“Because it doesn’t matter, all right? This is all of our savings, and it’s a no-go. This is for property taxes. So,” he set the jar of gold on the table, “we’re gonna have to tighten up…”
“Which means no more 600 dollars in gas chasing tarpon up the gulf.”
“Pope, that’s our job-“ JJ started.
“Yeah!” you agreed.
“We were chasing a bait board-“
“No more 200 dollars in heirloom tomato seeds.” Pope continued, pointing at Kiara.
Everyone began to talk over each other, arguing over it.
“What about my imported peppers?”
“Peppers gotta go too, baby.”
“We need to run the charters!
“It’s not the tomato’s fault!”
“No, hey, guys! If the business starts failing, the sharks start circling. All right?” Everyone stopped arguing.
“And we don’t even know if your dad is coming back.”
“He’s got balls if he shows his damn face around here.” You glared at Pope.
“And it’s not even his anymore.” JJ chimed in, hitting his hand against the table he was leaning on.
“It doesn’t matter. What’s he gonna think when he sees all this?”
“He’s not gonna see it.” You spat, Pope sighed, ignoring your comment before continuing.
“Listen, if we want to save this place, we skinny up until the business gets afloat again. Okay?” Pope said, leaving the shack.
JJ glanced at the gold that Pope had left on the table, an idea popping up in his mind.
The enduro. A dumbass bike race where people place their bets on, mostly kook kids who have nothing better to do with it. It was also where your brother went to try his luck each year.
“What a fantastic day we got for racing today. You guys ready to burn some gas?”
People cheered, raising their cups and watching as everyone started practicing, their bikes throwing sand on the viewers.
“The race is kicking off soon, so make sure you get your bets in. And then wave your flag, you know what I’m saying?”
JJ stood there, gas being pumped into his bike. He glanced over to the bike next to him, where Topper sat with a smug face, nodding at JJ. Jj shook his head, turning away from the boy.
John B walked over to JJ, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go baby! How we feeling today, champ?”
“Like I got this whole shot.”
“Yeah? Yeah?”
“I’m gonna win it this year. I know I am.”
“Yeah, you are.”
JJ turned to look at Cleo, “Cleo, how we doing, girl?”
“Everything’s all good, man.”
“Great.”
“The girl, out.”
“All right.” He raised his hand up, both of their hands meeting as they did a handshake.
“Hey! Bring it home, little boy.” She smiled at him.
“You know I will.”
John B smiled at him, grabbing his face. “You got this. All right?”
“I know.”
“Yeah, good luck.” John B said, beginning to walk away before JJ called his name.
“Hey, hold on one sec. Hold on.”
John B turned around, Jj walking up to him again.
“Where’d you park your bike?”
“Right there. Why?” He pointed, jj staring at him, hesitating.
“Gotta tell you something before we start.”
“Oh boy, JJ, what’s going on?”
“No, it’s really not that bad.” JJ replied, although John B did not believe him.
“Go on, then. Tell me, what’s up?”
“Like, literally you’re gonna be thanking me after. Okay? So… you know, I… I bet on me. To win.”
John B turned his head, pursing his lips together.
“I know, I know, funds are tight right now, but I feel good this year. So, I put in a bet on myself. Dude, the odds are like, seven to one!” He smiled, “with me on this thing, that’s like three to one.”
“Hold on, okay.”
“It’s free money.”
“Where did you get some extra money?”
“That’s what I’ve got to tell you. Um…” jj cleared his throat, “so, I went into the kitty and bet the last nug…. Now, before you say anything, I just gotta tell you-“
John B scoffed, backing away from JJ.
“Dude, listen, I got this, man.”
John B held his finger out, “JJ, JJ, just stop.” He walked over to JJ again, looking at him in disbelief. “Jj, are you serious?”
“Yes I’m serious.”
“That was our last 20 grand. That was supposed to go to property taxes for poguelandia.”
“Bro, I know! Okay? I know. I know you’re about to hit me now. I can sense it.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Save it. Gotta commit at this point. I got it. You know I do. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little backup on this one. You know what I’m saying?”
“You want me to ride?”
“Just cover me. All right? Just like old times in the backyard. You and me? We school these fools, and we save the farm. You know we can do this. Easy.”
Your heart dropped when your eyes spotted the familiar bike, along with those damn blue eyes. His eyes met yours for a moment, and it felt as if time stopped, as if everyone else was gone in that moment.
“Oh my fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, Pope raising an eyebrow at you, following your gaze.
Rafe stood there, a faint frown creasing his brow when he caught sight of you. A tight knot formed in his throat. He longed to close the distance between you two, to feel the warmth of your embrace or press his lips against yours again—anything to bridge th silence that had stretched between them.
It had been a year and a half since everything, yet his heart remained tethered to you. The weight of his lingering affection tormented him, and hehted how helpless he was.
He could see the tears begin to well up in your eyes, even from afar.
Topper was the one to snap him out of his daze, and Pope was the one to snap him out of yours.
Topper hit his shoulder, Rafe finally taking a breath when his eyes left yours.
“Dude, I told you, forget about her.”
“What? I wasn’t looking at her, dude.” Rafe lied, looking over at you, only to find you looking away again.
“Was he not here last year?” Pope asked you, you finally taking your eyes off of him.
“Yeah, he- he was, but I mean-it doesn’t matter, I gotta go. I can’t be here for this shit.” You held your hands up, your heart beat picking up and your palms beginning to get clammy.
“Just ignore him.“ Pope shrugged, you sighing, holding the back of your hands to your eyes, pressing on them.
You then realized, that he used to do the same thing. You put your hands down, glancing at Pope before speaking and turning around
“I’ll- I’ll be back.” You murmured, stumbling away from the crowd, leaning against a shed, taking deep breaths while trying to think about anything else.
“Shit, I need a drink.” You told yourself, taking one last deep breath before standing up and walking over to the nearest cooler, stealing a drink and downing the entire can in one go, before grabbing another.
You sighed when you walked up to Pope and Cleo, your eyes avoiding Rafe and instead looking at your brother and John B.
“Let’s do this shit, Jay!”
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The more you suffer
Self Esteem Part 4 | Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader
Hey y’all, it’s me back with more farm-to-table Joel smut. Took a while to figure this one out, but I hope you’re hungry horny bc it’s lengthy and full o’ fuckin’. Date Night Dave is back by popular demand, and fuckboy Joel finally experiences a consequence???
Warnings/tags: fuckboy!Joel, gratuitous smut, pwp, alcohol use, unprotected piv sex (that has no physical consequences bc it’s fiction and I like it that way), oral sex, public blow job, cock warming in a car, reoccuring guest appearance by dom!dave, date night dave inspo from the cartier campaign bc that's rich dave right??? au/ooc dave york is single/rich/mysterious and down to clown, jealous!joel, soft!joel, cuck!joel, jorkin’!joel, some angsty bits, no use of y/n, voyeur/exhibitionistish, light d/s dynamics, light (?) degradation/humiliation, praise kink, AU modern/no outbreak, overall just a lot of sex with some feelings in between, no beta blame all mistakes on me/adhd/insomnia
Notes: please leave feedback! Tell me all ur thots!
Thanks: to everyone who has read parts 1-3, that means the world to me
Dedicated to @gothcsz for the punishment inspo and @auteurdelabre for encouraging my delusions , and @strangergraphics for dividers
WC: 12.1K AO3: HERE | Masterlist: Here
Part 1: Self Esteem
Part 2: Want You Bad
Part 3: Kick and Scream
All I can fuckin’ think about.
It’s like it was a curse, not a confession. Joel’s voice plays on a loop in your mind. For days. You hear it when you wake up, against your will. It’s a reflex at this point. You hear it when your mind drifts at work, when Katie blathers on about who knows what on your brunch date, and it gets loudest at night when you can’t sleep. It repeats and repeats and repeats. Taunting you, describing you, mocking you. Leading you on.
Occasionally, you play the tape all the way through. Finishing the rest of the scene. Starting with 'All I can fuckin’ think about' all the way up to when that coward skipped out the door at the first glimpse of that thread connecting you. The first sign of something laced with vulnerability.
Every minute that passes since you’ve been cursed with Joel Miller’s enigmatic mid-coitus confession is torture. Slow, painful, agony. Time drags so excruciatingly slowly that you feel like months have passed, but it’s only been three days since you were cursed with this affliction when you get a text. Well, it’s practically a fucking email. A business memo.
Dave: Hey, I wanted to follow up. I enjoyed our date and would love to see you again. I’m out of town for the next 72 hours, but I’d like to take you out for drinks again when I return. I can pick you up again Thursday night, same time? Or, if you’d rather, I’ll be available earlier in the evening on Friday. If you’d like to do dinner.
Dave: I’ll be honest, though; I’d prefer to see you sooner than later.
Holy shit.
You reread the message at least three times as you sink onto your sofa. Your stomach flips at his second message, before you start trying to pick it apart, anyway.
It’s almost too…formal? Cordial? Maybe you’re just used to only getting cryptic sentence fragments from Joel, who texts like he’s rocking a Nokia 3310. Because it’s also so direct. Dave is not afraid to communicate clearly and express his interest in you. It’s not overtly sexual, but not nonchalant, Goldilocks approves.
You grin at the phone in your hand, and your gaze veers off until you’re staring at the wall, projecting the replay of your date with Dave like a movie at the drive-in. His mouth grazing your ear as he murmured filthy thoughts to you at the table, his fingers skating up your thigh, the taste of his cock sliding along your tongue, and the sounds that started from deep in his chest before he came down your throat.
It’s not like Dave wasn’t memorable, but damn, you had been wallowing in your feelings over Joel like it was your full-time job. Fuck that. Dave is a welcome distraction. You agree to drinks and let him know you’re looking forward to seeing him, before swapping to your text thread with Katie.
You: is it just because the bar is in hell for men, or is it appropriate for my pussy to flood over a man with a plan???
Katie: Can it be both?
Katie: Oh my god
Katie: PLEASE tell me it’s the bathroom blowjob guy
Katie: Is he planning a second date?
Katie: I told you! Green flags!
You: maybe 🙃
……..
Knowing you have a date to look forward to eases the sting. The memory of Joel walking out the door. You can still hear his fucking bedroom voice in your ear, but the chokehold loosens slightly. You fill the next couple of days with anything and everything to make the time pass faster. Too busy to have the time to check your phone or, worse, text Joel.
Dave continues to be everything Joel isn’t. Communicative, confirming your plans the morning of, punctual, pulling up precisely on time, and a gentleman greeting you with a compliment and opening the car door for you. You know you've let the demented demons within you get a little too comfortable when the green flags almost give you the ick. Katie’s voice echoes in your ears, and you suck it up.
It turns out Distraction Dave is just as hot as you remember–even without a jealous Joel-shaped ogre stirring your loins from across the room. He exudes a debonair charm with his tailored, quiet luxury brand look. You feel a wave of insecurity lurch in your chest before you realize he’s got you on his arm like you’re a designer accessory. He’s pleased to be seen with you as he guides you to your table in the dimly lit jazz-style lounge. It puts you at ease when he takes the lead in making decisions.
The cocktails are strong, but you’ve only had a few sips before. It’s Dave who has you feeling warm in the face. He’s flirty but doesn’t push. He doesn’t assume you will get handsy under the table again. In your twisted brain, that only emboldens you to make a move. He’s still talking, but you aren’t really listening, distracted by his neck and lips and how close you are to each other.
Close enough that it’s no stretch to slide your hand from your lap to his. You drag your hand slowly, up up up. When the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk, you feel your pulse jump. The atmosphere fades, and the noise blurs as your senses lock onto him. Dave’s brow twitches just before his hand covers yours.
“There she is,” his smile is devilishly handsome with a dark glint in his eyes, “my dirty girl.” His voice, his words, and the heat of his hand sprinkle horny fairy dust over you. “Thought about you all week,” he confesses.
All I can fuckin’ think about.
You swallow your intrusive Joel-voiced thought. Flush it away into the sewer.
“Me?” you ask coyly, batting your lashes. He hums, affirming. His hand squeezes yours, and heat starts to pool between your legs. “What about me?” your eyes have a sparkle in them as you sip your drink. He leans closer to you, nose grazing the soft skin behind your ear, and your eyes flutter shut.
“Thought about your pretty face,” he tips your chin towards him with his free hand, so close he’s all you can see. “Thought about these lips,” he gently kisses you, retreating before you can escalate the intensity. You pout at the distance when he draws back and smirks at your needy expression. “Thought I might not hear back from you with how distracted you were by your not-ex not-stalking you last time.”
An ache flares in your heart before you drown it with irritation. Garbled words stick in your throat. Something sharp and defensive tries to slash through, but Dave continues, unbothered before you can get anything out of your mouth.
“Mostly,” his crisp, rich scent washes over you as he dips into dot kisses up your neck, dissolving your defenses. His warm breath tickles your ear as he husks in a low tone, “I thought about how this greedy throat felt trying to swallow my cock,” his fingers wrap around your neck for emphasis, and he feels your quiet whimper of a response.
Your cheeks burn. He claims your lips with a hungry kiss that has your moans vibrating in your throat beneath his hand. It’s urgent and needy how your tongues, teeth, and lips collide. When his other hand finally releases yours, and he possessively cups either side of your jaw in his large palms, you’re lost momentarily. Consumed by the sensation of Dave’s tongue sliding against yours and the desire to crawl into his lap and straddle him here in the booth.
You shove away the thought of Joel that flashes through your mind and double down on your desire for Dave. You bite sharply at his bottom lip, roughly knocking your faces together as you press your body into his, demanding more intensity as you make out.
When you break apart, you feel the crazed expression on your face as you smirk at the man in front of you. “I’ll give you more to think about,” you say more breathlessly than you intended, but the message is still clear.
You dive back in, licking a hot stripe up his neck and biting at his earlobe. Your hand is back on task, groping for Dave’s thick erection when he stops you again. He tugs your hand away, and you huff.
Dave laughs, enjoying the frustration on your features as he tucks your hair back behind your ear. He’s rudely composed while you’re on fire.
“Finish your drink,” he tilts his head towards the antique glass in front of you. You down the rest in an impolite gulp, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Dave shakes his head softly, a mix of mild disbelief and something headier. “That’s a good girl,” he acquiesces you for following his direction with gusto.
His praise drips over you like warm honey, easing the confusion you felt at his rejection of your touch. He answers your unspoken question, “We can stay here, dirty girl, but I’d prefer to take you home so I can get my mouth on you this time.” The close quarters in the booth have you nearly nose to nose. A smirk spreads across his face when your lips part at his proposal.
“Let’s go,” you respond quickly, it’s an easy decision.
He takes you to his condo nearby. It’s modern, masculine, and decorated but not very revealing of anything more personal about him. He wastes no time leading you to the bedroom, and you’re just as eager to get him into bed.
But when your impatient hands start tugging at his clothes, he grips you harshly, fingertips digging into the flesh of your upper arms, pinning them to your sides, essentially immobilizing you as he holds you back. He has this look to him like he knows something that you don’t, and that’s enough to make you pause.
“She’s hungry, hm?” it’s phrased like a question, but you don’t think he’s expecting a real answer. His eyes rove over you before he relaxes his grip.
“Sit.”
You obey without a thought, perching on the edge of the perfectly made bed before him. “That’s a good girl,” his voice has a raw edge to it, and the phrase shoots straight to your core. You fight to keep still, overwhelmed with the sudden need to please him and convinced he wants to see how closely you’ll follow his orders.
Dave’s eyes are full of lust and something darker as he studies you, his presence looming, commanding, and teasing. “Look at you, ready for more.” His tone is mocking but coated with approval that tingles along your spine. He grabs your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze again, “You liked the risk last time. Coming on my fingers under the table.”
You nod, and he grants you a flash of a smile. It’s gorgeous but restrained and tampered back down.
"And you liked being on your knees for me. You liked taking my cock down your throat, didn’t you?”
You nod again, but his fingers dig into your cheeks slightly, a silent reprimand. His voice drops to a low growl, “Use your words.” Your eyes widen before you blink away the mixture of shock and thrill.
"Yes,” you get the word out in a quietly, “I liked it," you manage to add a hint of confidence.
The corner of his mouth twitches. Satisfaction flickers in his eyes. “Of course you did,” he strokes your cheek gently, “you did such a good job taking care of me last time.” His adoration flutters across your skin, spreading heat. “But it’s my turn now, isn’t it?”
The wicked smirk on his face makes you feel lightheaded as he lowers himself in front of you. Your knees part reflexively to let him move closer. “That’s a good girl. Spread these legs for me,” he continues as he runs his hands along your smooth legs until he’s bunching up the bottom of your dress.
Without wasting a second, his mouth is on you, kissing the soft crease of your thighs and sucking an open mouth kiss over the damp fabric covering your core. His hands anchor your thighs, thumbs caressing your flesh in a mockery of tenderness as his mouth delivers a sinful symphony sucking at your skin, nipping at you in a way that makes your thighs tense beneath his grip and spewing dirty thoughts.
“So wet for me,” he mutters as he raises in front of you, pulling you to stand so he can strip you bare. Your arms hang submissively by your sides as his hand moves slowly, down your jaw, wrapped around your throat, down your chest, pausing to marvel at the sight of your tits in his palms and how your mouth parts when he kneads them in his hands.
You wonder if you should feel vulnerable as he proceeds with his inspection, but the precision of his movements keeps you lulled. Dave’s hand slips between your legs and his fingers trace the slick seam of your cunt. You can’t help the whiny groan you respond with as you strain to remain still for him.
He snickers at your struggle, then makes it worse. “You’re dripping, you know that?” the mocking tone in his voice does something just right to you, “such a needy slut.” Oh. That has your thighs flexing, tightening around his hand as he continues to torture you, parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, drawing circles too slowly.
“Have to stop myself from bending you over now and fucking you hard and fast.” Your body floods with need at the idea, dripping around his fingers and causing your hips to jerk.
“Please,” you whisper. You figure it’s polite enough.
"Ah, ah," he warns, pulling back. "I know you’d like that, dirty girl.”
Yes! You consider spinning around and giving him your best tempting display, hoping he’ll give in, but he seems to be a step ahead. “Lay down. You’ll get what you want.”
Dave has a wicked gleam in his eyes as you spread out across the bed for him. He’s deliberate when he gets between your legs, spreading them wide and skipping the teasing kisses this time. He drags his tongue from your entrance to your throbbing clit before his plush lips wrap around you. The suction and pressure are dizzying, and you fill the room with panting and moaning.
Your hips chase his mouth as he uses his tongue expertly, alternating between lazy circles and sharp flicks. The pleasure builds as he works at you. His technique gradually becomes indelicate, using everything he’s got in a way that makes you feel wild. His nose nudges at your clit as he dips further down. He allows you to keep rolling your hips gently as you rock against his chin before he pulls back.
"Look at you, already unraveling for me," he says, voice drenched in amusement. "So desperate. She wants it all, hm?"
“Yes,” you whine, and your moans keep flowing as the pressure coils tighter within you.
“Good,” he asserts, “come for me.” It’s a demand that has you gasping when he punctuates it with his fingers plunging inside of you. If you weren’t so enraptured by the growing pleasure and his voice, you might nitpick the logistics of coming on command–but he gives you no room for debate.
Persuasively compelling your orgasm to hit as his fingers fuck into you and he sucks your clit into his furnace of a mouth. He doesn’t relent. The intensity of his mouth and fingers overwhelms you through the violent flash of pleasure and remains consistent as you writhe and contract, coming back down to earth.
He's working you back up before you can fully recover or process his praise. Coaxing you toward another peak, capitalizing on his command of your mind and body. Every flick of his tongue pushes you higher until you’re gripping at the bed to stay in place.
The ache for release teeters on unbearable as Dave’s groan buzzes through you. You tremble, sticking to the sheets with the sweat of desperation. You’re not cognizant of how you’re pleading with Dave, “Yes, yes, yes!”
But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he stops, sitting up.
“Hey!” you’re on edge and disoriented.
"On your hands and knees," he orders, rougher now. "I’ve had my fill."
Oh shit.
You scramble to obey, face hot with frustration and need as you arch in presentation for him. His hands spread your cheeks so he can get a good, long look at the sight of your glossy, swollen cunt.
"That’s good, dirty girl, so eager," he chuckles, lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you deliciously with the slightest stretch. "You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?"
"Yes," you breathe, the word spilling out before you form a thought.
"That’s what I thought." He pushes inside you in one smooth, hard thrust, and you gasp as he fills you completely, stretching you wide. He pauses only long enough to feel your walls rippling with contractions around the length of him, confirming his prediction. “Yeah, knew this tight little cunt would take me so well.”
You can only hum mindlessly in response before he sets a rough pace. Gripping firmly at your hips, he keeps you in place as he drives into you, grunting with the force as his hips smack against your ass, adding more lewd noise to the moans and single-syllable words you cry out.
You’re slipping away in the feeling of him pounding into you from behind. So mindless as your body bounces off of him that, for a split second, your tortured mind drifts to Joel. Joel’s voice and his filthy mouth, how he always gets you to beg for more. You tense up, eyes wide, hoping you haven’t said his name in your stupor.
Mercifully, Dave doesn’t seem to react. He continues at the same pace until his hand slides up your spine, gripping the back of your neck as he knocks your legs wider with his, angling you lower and thrusting even deeper inside of you. It’s a sharp, blinding need to come that possesses you.
“Don’t stop,” you plead between gasping breaths.
He gives you a slap for that. The sting has your eyes nearly rolling back like a caricature. Dave is launched closer to his own release because of your desperation, your ass jiggling, and his view of his cock disappearing inside of you over and over in time with your moans.
He gives you exactly what you need as you shift, letting your weight fall into your shoulders so you can snake your hand back to swirl your fingers over your clit with precision, quickly bringing yourself to the peak. You fall apart around him as he grips your hips forcefully, using you as he needs while waves of pleasure debilitate you.
He doesn’t slow down, pounding into you until his own release verges on crashing into him, and with a low, strained sound, he pulls out. The wet sounds of his fist are drowned out by the groan you both make as you collapse without his support, and he comes across your ass and lower back.
For a moment, neither of you moves, both panting as you come down from the high. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans down and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to your shoulder. "Good girl," he murmurs, a soothing balm after the intensity. And, when he returns with a warm washcloth to clean you up, you feel glowy and drunk in his bed.
Dave drives you home, at your request, and walks you to your door like a gentleman. He repeats that he would be happy to see you again.
And he does.
You both get what you want out of the arrangement. Neither of you wants a relationship and has an interest in an emotional connection. Dave isn’t always available, but he’s communicative and arranges to pick you up once or twice a week when he’s free.
He always offers to take you for drinks or dinner at his favorite spots. Some nights, you just ask him to take you straight to his perfectly made bed. The nights you desperately need him to fuck Joel’s voice out of your head.
It works, for the most part, as the weeks pass. Katie rolls her eyes at you when you claim you prefer your weekly dick appointments to a real relationship, but her judgment fades when you give her a juicy detail or two about the things Dave says to you in bed. You’re grateful to have an easy out to redirect her because you don’t feel strong enough to let her see the festering wound in your chest, still refusing to let go of Joel.
Most days, it’s dull enough to manage. It’s more of a cruel joke when you hear Joel’s voice in your head first thing upon waking. When your phone buzzes and your heart stutters, you laugh bitterly at yourself for thinking it could be that stubborn asshole. It’s never him. You don’t hear from him. You don’t reach out. You consider blocking him altogether but can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t see him on any nights out with Katie.
You bite your tongue when you see Tommy at another karaoke night. You can’t ask about Joel, nobody knew you had been seeing each other, if that’s what you could even call it. You strategically keep yourself on the opposite end of the table from Tommy, hoping to stay out of earshot if he mentions the man haunting your thoughts.
But as you drink your feelings one after another, they evolve. Anger swirls as you think of texting Joel and calling him out for being a gutless wonder. You pull out your phone and open your messages, rereading the last text from him.
Joel: Miss me?
Out of context, the two words trip you up momentarily. Even though you’ve reread them more times than you’d like to admit. And replayed that night more than you can stand. You don’t type anything to him. Your anger still burns in your gut.
You attempt to engage with your friends, but it’s all for show. You can’t stop glancing towards Tommy, the door, or your phone. Your anger converts into something you can’t escape.
After one more drink, your vision keeps getting blurry, not exactly from the booze.
You try to blink back the tears in your waterline, excusing yourself from the group and dashing for the bathroom. Something messy and hurt and possesses you. Destabilizing you entirely as you feel yourself breaking down.
Weaving between bodies until you’re slamming into a stall and collapsing into a wobbly-limbed mess. Ugly sobs rip through your diaphragm, stirring up the most vulnerable fears and a cruel internal voice. Why are you hung up on someone that treated you like shit? You think it’s what you deserve? You can’t even move on? You still can’t stand up for yourself?
Someone else enters the bathroom, and you try to hold yourself together, but they catch your sobs and ask if you’re alright. You do your best to assure the stranger that you’re okay.
“If he makes you feel like that, he ain’t worth it, hon’,” she offers before leaving you with your thoughts in the bathroom.
You know she meant it to be helpful, but it knocks you deeper into your feelings. You’re upset, and for what? Does he even care? Has he actually thought of you even once? He isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it, and you still can’t stop the tears pathetically streaming down your face. It hurts even worse to know you shouldn’t care.
You stand up, and your head spins, not just from the emotional agony but from the alcohol. When you not-so-gracefully emerge and see yourself in the mirror, you nearly lock yourself back in the stall and vow to live here now. You can’t return to the table with your eyes that swollen and red and your mascara rubbed away.
You don’t want to be seen at all. You want to be left in bed to wrestle with your self-esteem and crippling grief over something that never existed.
You pull out your phone, only dropping it once before sending off your hail Mary, hoping Dave can pick you up.
Where?
The response is almost instant. You send off the name of the bar and do your best to make yourself look presentable before marching back towards your friends. You give Katie a quick hug from the side, yell-whispering into her ear that Dave is picking you up and you’ll text her tomorrow, before you slip away as quickly as you can manage. Bouncing off the back of a chair on your mission to get outside.
You lean against the cool brick wall, eyes closed, taking deep breaths of the crisp fall air as you wait for your ride. You can hear the bass from another club across the street and the laughs and shouts from the gaggle of smokers gathered further up the block. You feel syrupy and wrung out, but you aren’t going to be sick. You just need to get home.
“You alright?” A smooth voice cuts into your thoughts. You jerk your head more dramatically than you intended, taking in Tommy’s concerned brown eyes with a sigh. Of course.
“Just waiting for my ride,” you do your best to act sober and emotionally stable. Whatever that looks like.
“I’ll wait with you,” he decides.
Your shoulders drop. You must not be very convincing. “Really, I’m fine,” you add, leaning your head against the wall.
“Right,” he steps back but doesn’t leave. He lights a cigarette and allows you the silence as he smokes alongside you. It’s kind, you suppose, not wanting to leave you alone on the street. But he’s the last person you want to be next to right now. Or maybe second to last, you realize when he laughs and steps forward with a wave, drawing your attention to a scene that stops your heart.
A familiar truck pulls up to the curb in front of you, and you take back your earlier assessment. You feel like you are gonna be sick. Your stomach lurches, and you feel the panic rising in your throat.
“What are you doing here?” Tommy shouts, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, like maybe if you keep them closed, you’ll blend in with the wall.
“Just giving a friend a ride,” Joel responds gruffly from inside his truck. Your plan immediately fails. His voice compels you to look at him.
Some unspoken fucking sibling communication happens between the two of them, and then Joel is staring at you. Unreadable. “You getting in?” he hollers at you.
“No,” you mumble barely audible. You clear your throat, feeling hoarse, and try again. “I’m waiting for my ride.”
“I think it’s here, darlin’,” Tommy says as he steps towards you to usher you towards Joel’s truck. You shrug him off, pulling out your phone to check your messages. To see how long it’s been since you told Dave your location.
You didn’t.
You texted Joel.
You’re mortified. No, no, no. This cannot be real. You didn’t text this hot nightmare. There’s no way he would’ve responded.
He did.
Joel: Where?
You’re still shaking your head and trying to wrap your head around the situation. You’re the architect of your own worst nightmare now. A disaster asking to be rescued by the guy who knows exactly how to twist the knife in your gut. You’re spiraling inwards.
Completely unaware of the exchange between Joel and Tommy. Or how gone, you look to them.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters at Tommy as he comes round to help you into the truck. “What’d she have?”
“Hey,” Tommy defends, “I just came outside, and she said she was waitin’ on her ride. I don’t know shit.”
“Figures,” he’s still grumbling as he shuts the door. You’re in shock as you sit in the cab of Joel’s truck. The only other time you were inside was the night you met.
“Shit,” you curse at yourself as Joel gets in and pulls away from the curb.
He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say anything. Just drives in silence. Through every light, all the way across town.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, “I didn’t mean to text you.” It hangs in the thick silence. You focus so hard on keeping your breathing steady, tamping down the sobs fighting to break through, that you barely register the tears that stream down your face.
You hear him sigh before his hand rests on your thigh, “What happened?” he croaks like it hurts to speak.
You’re reeling at that. Hearing him sigh like you’re a hindrance, like your emotions are a burden like it pains him to ask. You don’t have the clarity of mind to filter yourself.
“Nothing,” you snap, glaring at his hand. “Don’t pretend like you care,” you dig, refusing to look at him, hot tears still rolling down your cheek. He doesn’t ask again. But he doesn’t pull his hand back, and you don’t move it until he’s shifting into park.
Against your better judgment, you turn to face him. Your gut twists at the sight of him so close to you. After you’ve been left alone with your thoughts for so long. You can’t read his stoic face or his beautiful dark eyes.
“Thank you,” you murmur, trying not to linger on how insane you must seem. Asking for a ride, snapping at him, and then thanking him. You cringe at yourself, trying to swipe the tears under your eyes away like that’ll make you seem more put together.
You hop out of the cab and take a second to steady yourself. Joel’s door slams as he rounds the front of the truck to steady you.
“Don’t,” you mutter. He puts an arm around you as if it’s natural, and you still.
“Baby,” he says, low and soothing, “let me help.”
Baby. It stirs the stupid butterflies in your stomach until your brain catches up.
“No,” you shove him away. It’s weak, but he steps back.
“C’mon,” he urges you, “let’s just get you inside.”
“No,” you still don’t move. Afraid you’ll fall apart if you try. You need him to leave before you come apart. If he touches you, you know you’ll beg him to fuck your pain away.
“I can’t do it again.” You muster your courage, but when you look at his face, a soft sob finally breaks through, and your body shudders, gasping for a breath, “Please.”
His face darkens. His arms hang limply at his sides before his fists tighten. The street is quiet in the dark. “You think I’m here to fuck you?”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” it’s a genuine question, but it rings harsh in the night with your uneven breathing. You fumble, dropping your keys when you finally dig them out of your bag, swearing under your breath. He grabs them before you and offers them to you, dropping them into your hand, avoiding your touch.
You mumble thanks and stalk towards your door. He stays put, watching until you’re inside before he turns to leave.
……
You get a text from Katie the following morning.
Katie: Girl, are you alive?
Katie: You wanna tell me why Dave looked an awful lot like Joel?
You: not really. did Tommy say something?
Katie: No?? I was trying to get a glimpse of your man when I saw you getting into Joel’s truck??
You: I texted the wrong number
Katie: ….
Katie: Uh, unless you’ve got him in your phone as Daddy Joel (real) I don’t think those letters are that close together babe
Katie: WAIT
Katie: When did you get Joel’s number? He barely talks to anyone!
Kate: Don’t answer that, I’m coming over and bribing you with a hangover cure bacon egg n’ cheese and you’re telling me everything
You: and a cold brew?
Katie: Duh
…………..
“Fuck,” Joel grumbles when he hears a knock at his door. He knows exactly what this is. He lets Tommy in without a word and tromps back to his kitchen to get another coffee before his interrogation starts. He sits at the table, and levels the darkest “don’t start with me” glare he can, but his idiot brother has always been immune.
…………….
“What do you mean?” you whine at Katie from your side of the couch. “There’s no use trying to talk to him; he’s emotionally constipated, and he only wants one thing from me.”
“Maybe there’s more to him,” she suggests vaguely.
“You were the one telling me to drop him and move on anyway!” you argue like a child.
“I didn’t know it was him!”
“How does that change anything?” you glare at her. Katie chews at her lip while you devour the last of your breakfast sandwich. It’s cold. You had been so wrapped up in your recollection of the ups and downs of your non-relatioinship with Joel you forgot to finish eating while it was fresh. It feels like a stupid metaphor about how he forgot to take care of yourself when you were drawn into his toxic cycle.
You thought confessing would reduce the weight on your chest. You weren’t prepared for Katie to add to your delusion.
“I don’t think it’s really my place to share his… baggage,” she muses.
“Since when?” you cut her a nasty look.
“I just think,” she pauses, and you ball up the foil from your sandwich and throw it at her, earning you a glare, “It’s complicated.”
“Okay, Avril Lavigne,” you mock. “You’re the worst, and this is not helpful! You’ve gotta give me something. Is he married? Am I the mistress? Is he a felon? A drug dealer?”
“You think I wouldn’t warn you about any of those?”
“I don’t know. I never thought you’d be taking his side,” you say in a serious tone.
“I’m not defending him!” She holds up her hands in surrender. “You deserve better than fuckboy behavior from a grown man.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s just,” he considers her words as your eyes narrow, “it seemed like it meant more than that. You were practically glowing half the summer.”
“And a lifeless zombie the rest of the time?”
“A cute zombie?” she shrugs. “I’m serious, though. Do you think he’d show up to rescue anyone else–no questions asked? That fast?” her words get softer.
“I don’t know,” you mutter, draping yourself miserably along the end of the couch, trying not to think about the times Joel bent you over the armrest. “I don’t know him at all, really.”
“Do you want to?”
Yes! A naive part of you shouts, hopeful and bright, blind to the reality of your situation. Oh, no. Definitely not. You dropkick that idea right to the back of your mind. Ignoring the way it screams until it’s muffled by the dejected, logical thoughts. “I can’t risk it,” you respond weakly.
Katie hears it. The ever-resilient part of you that tries to stay one step ahead cracks and lets the vulnerability out. You refuse to worsen the abandonment wound, but it’s entangled in your heart.
Katie doesn’t bring it up again. She spends the rest of the day with you, ordering takeout and putting on your favorite movies, like you’re going through a breakup. It helps.
…………
Life lulls back into the same routine. Except now, when you wake up, it’s Joel’s face–not his voice–that haunts you. The
Instead of Joel’s voice haunting you when you wake up–it’s his face. The way he looked hurt. The way he dropped your keys into your hand
when you begged him not to come inside. It sinks like a stone in your stomach that you carry all day as you go through the motions. It feels hollow, but you persist. Your friends lighten the dark fog. Dave’s praise soothes the ache, and he fucks you so hard you can forget almost forget.
But Joel lurks in your walls, in your skin, and you swear you see his headlights sweep over your living room, but it’s never his truck. At least not in the two weeks since karaoke night. You’ll never understand the trickery that makes misery slow time, but every day has felt bloated and stretched.
Sick of feeling sick, the following week, when Joel’s face pops up, the second you open your eyes, you curse him. Spite simmers in your bones. If he had something to say, he had all the time in the world to show up and say it. Channeling the malaise into something darker, you let your anger renew your energy.
All I can fuckin’ think about MY ASS.
You’re itching for the distraction by the time you’re getting ready for your date with Dave this evening. You know you’re going to be a menace, and it’ll turn him on, which already has you smirking to yourself. You’re almost ready when you hear a knock at your door. You frown, checking the time. Dave’s usually precisely on time, not early. Close enough, you figure, slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading for the door.
You swing it open, ready to see Dave, but your jaw drops when you see Joel. He’s caught off guard by your date night look and hesitates as his eyes sweep over your little black dress. Without a thought you slam the door in his face.
What the fuck?
He knocks again, loudly, as if you weren’t standing on the other side with your mouth gaping like a fish. But the pounding brings you back to reality.
You open the door and start before he even has a chance.
“It’s been three weeks since I last saw you, Miller, and that was an accident! I don’t know how long it was before that, but now you’re gonna show up and ruin another date? I don’t fucking think so. You’ve got five minutes. Spit it out. What are you doing here?”
He blinks dumbly for a moment. Taken aback by your words and still breathless at seeing you all dolled up for your date. You cross your arms, unimpressed so far. That’s somehow worse. The irritated look on your face makes him want to fuck the attitude out of you. He takes a deep breath, trying to refocus before he starts.
“You’re right,” his voice is gentler than you remember–It’s criminal really, “I shouldn’t have waited.” He pauses and swallows thickly. Is he nervous? That’s new. “I’m not great with words, and I haven’t given you any reason to give me the time of day. I’m here to apologize.”
“Go on then.”
“It wasn’t right of me to run from you–”
“Which time?” you won’t let him get through this easily. Not now. He lets that sink in. The vulnerability makes his eyes shine. You can sense the charge in the air like he might just run right now.
“Every time,” he admits. “Didn’t think you’d let me back in every time, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying. Knew you wanted me too.” You scoff at that. Amused at his approach. You see his shoulders tense before he lets your disapproval roll off of him. “Convinced myself, it was fine, or you’d stop answerin’ the door. Thought it’d be easier–”
“If I did your dirty work for you?” you accuse sharply. “If it was my responsibility to hold you accountable?”
“Thought it’d be easier if you hated me, I guess,” he runs his hand over the back of his neck. You stop seeing red and take him in. He smells fresh, like some over-fragranced body wash, his nearly dry hair brushed back. You hate how you feel the urge to soften just at the sight of him. “Figured you’d move on,” he rumbles.
“Didn’t seem like you wanted me to move on when you crashed my date.”
“It wasn’t my plan,” he mutters. Right. You raise your eyebrows. “You–you just drive me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t know why. But I can’t get you outta my fuckin’ head.”
That makes you smile. His confession willfully given on your front doorstep. In the daylight, without your body seducing his. You drive him crazy.
Dave’s car pulls up behind Joel’s truck. “Time’s up,” you say, “as much as I really enjoy this 90s romcom-style confession, and I really do, I’ve got a date, and I don’t like to keep my dates waiting.”
“Right,” Joel takes you in like he might never see you again, “he something serious?” he nods towards Dave’s car.
“Why, you planning to ask me out?” you’re not afraid to be direct anymore. Nothing to lose.
“Thought I’d just start with the apology.”
“Good.”
“You accept?”
You laugh loudly, full-chested. It’s a release, but it ends mockingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than this to show you really mean it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, turning to leave. A wicked idea flashes through your mind as you watch him turn and look past him towards Dave, who is watching you intently.
“Wait,” you call out, and Joel spins immediately. “I’ll consider your apology tonight on one condition.” He waits to hear more, and your grin sends a shiver down his spine. He’s in for something, and if it’s anything close to what he deserves, it’s gonna hurt.
…………
You slide into your favorite corner booth, in between Dave and Joel. You admire them both in the dim light. You haven’t been able to keep the nefarious smirk off your face since you proposed your idea. Dave was an easy sell, just as you knew he would be, with minimal questions and clear on the role you wanted him to play. You weren’t surprised that Joel agreed, but you’re skeptical that he’ll be able to keep his cool.
“You’re coming with us,” you told him like it was a command, “you’re gonna watch, and you’re gonna prove to me that you can behave.”
He seems to keep it together through your date. He’s quiet, only accepting a drink when you tell him not to be weird. You know the jealousy is screaming beneath the surface. He does his best to rein it in, but when Dave taunts him with sly comments or touches you so freely, you catch his jaw tensing and his hands balling into tight fists, but he doesn’t say anything.
Dave exudes confidence and control. He relishes in the power dynamic and more so, in how you’re so turned on by having an audience. Dave’s eyes are sharp, catching all of Joel’s discomfort when you giggle when you share a story when he touches you, but worst of all, when you touch Dave. “Dirty girl,” Dave murmurs close to your ear, “you want to give your guest a show before we take him home?”
Your eyes are bright and shining when you smile at him. You give Joel a once over. He doesn’t look like he will flip the table or smash his fist through it. He glowers at Dave but softens for you, swallowing down the humiliation and washing it down with another drink.
“Yeah,” you turn back to Dave, “he can take it. What do you have in mind?”
“I think I dropped something under the table,” Dave’s low voice drips down your spine, and excitement buzzes in your core, “You think you can help me out?” You smile wide as the Cheshire cat before sinking beneath the table. It’s cramped and dark, but you’ve never been more grateful to Dave for reserving his favorite secluded corner spot.
You wiggle a bit brushing against Joel as you situate yourself between Dave’s legs. The table muffles more of the sound, blending their voices into the sound of the music. You can tell Dave is trying to continue a casual conversation with Joel, and you can tell Joel doesn’t respond with many words. You find it easy enough to tune them out altogether as you focus on your mission, opening Dave’s belt and working quickly to tug at his pants until you can free his thick cock.
Before you can get your mouth on it, Dave cups your jaw and grabs your attention, “Good girl,” he husks, matching your hungry gaze. “This what you want?” he asks as he grips the base of his cock and angles it towards you. You nod, wetting your lips in anticipation. “Do you want him to watch?” he asks, tilting his head towards Joel.
You smile again, “Yes.”
“Come closer,” he directs Joel, “she wants you to watch.” Joel shuffles over, scooting down the curved bench until he can see your face looking up at him.
“Shit, baby,” Joel hisses, shifting to adjust himself. You see the mix of emotions flickering across his face. You can’t help yourself from holding eye contact with Joel as you slide your tongue down Dave’s length. You keep your eyes on him as you begin to bob your head, taking his cock deeper into your mouth.
Having their eyes on you, has you squirming. The attention and the dynamics between the three of you has your heart in your cunt. The blazing jealousy in Joel’s eyes eggs you on, working sloppily to please Dave. You moan below them.
“Look at her,” Dave speaks calmly to Joel, only a hint of strain in his voice as he maintains his composure. “You think another woman could enjoy your cock this much? You think you could find a mouth better than this?”
“No,” Joel grits through clenched teeth.
“You think you deserve her?” Dave asks like it’s as meaningless as asking about the weather.
“No,” he grits again, his eyes shut tightly, waiting for something to pass, before he can continue watching you. You see the torment taking hold, lighting a fire within you that spurs you on. You break the eye contact to take Dave’s cock even deeper. He groans approvingly above you.
“That’s it,” Dave encourages you with his hand gently wrapping around the back of your head, “just like that, fuck.” He keeps watching you, but his next words are for Joel. “Tell her,” he says, drunk with pride and lust, “tell her what a good girl she is. Think she more than deserves to hear it.” You know your cunt is dripping between your legs at the intensity of your lewd behavior and the control Dave wields over the both of you so effortlessly.
You shift to watch Joel. He tempers the storm of his frustration and arousal to make sure it sounds honest. So you know he means it.
“That’s good, baby,” his voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat before continuing, “Such a good girl.” Your eyes nearly roll back. You didn’t think it could hit any harder than when Dave praises you, but hearing the words from Joel sends you to another plane. You melt before your determination is renewed, and you’re on a mission to make Dave come. He knows what you want, and his hips tilt, rocking into you as you swallow around him eagerly until he’s groaning again and pulsing against your tongue as he comes.
The men shift, and the three of you adjust and fix yourselves, respectively, as you return to your seat between them. You’re pleased with yourself but overtaken with the need throbbing in your cunt. You don’t miss Joel’s attempts to adjust himself and squash his own aching desire. It makes your lips curl with a hungry smile.
Dave pulls you towards him. You’re buzzing so tensely with anticipation that just his grip around your waist brings a whiny moan out of you. He chuckles darkly at your wrecked response. “So worked up just from that, aren’t you?” Dave teases. You hum in agreement, letting your senses be overwhelmed by the scent of both men and their warm bodies on either side of you. “Already soaked and ready to be filled with a cock, hm?”
“Yes,” you agree, closing your eyes and smiling dreamily.
“Tell me,” Dave murmurs with a dangerous edge.
“So wet,” you purr in agreement, but he laughs again. You open your eyes, confused.
“Was asking him,” Dave tilts your chin towards Joel. You thought your idea of having Joel watch would be punishment enough, but you weren’t prepared for how Dave’s filthy mind works a step ahead of yours. You pull Joel’s hand between your legs. “Check for me,” he orders.
Joel obeys. His fingers are quick to find your soaked underwear, and he easily dips them beneath the fabric into the pool of slick at your fluttering entrance. “Fuck,” you both curse at the sensation. It’s overwhelming, and you jerk at the intensity of being touched where your body wants contact the most.
“Fuckin’ soaked,” Joel confirms like it’s painful to say it, “needs it bad.” You think the latter might apply to both of you.
“You think you can make it all the way home, dirty girl?” Dave teases. You nod, but the whiny sound that comes from your throat as Joel removes his hand says otherwise. Dave considers your needs. “He’s only here to watch, hm?” he confirms. You nod mindlessly. “You think he’d make a nice seat for your ride home? Keep that empty hole full for you?”
“Oh, shit,” you feel your face heat at the idea, “yes.”
Joel’s more conflicted than he’s ever felt in his life. He was prepared to fight off his jealousy and tame his anger. He wasn’t prepared to watch you give Dave head in public or for how fucking hard he would get watching. But the most difficult thing to reckon with is the humiliation. More specifically, how every comment from either one of you that further salted his wound made his skin boil but also sent jolts of excitement through his nerves.
“You think you can keep it together?” Dave challenges Joel.
“Yes.”
………………
Joel regrets agreeing before you leave the parking lot, but you couldn’t pay him to go back in time and change his answer. He thought the worst of it was over once you finally settled on top of him, sinking painfully slowly down his cock until your ass was flush with his hips, but you can’t stay still. You tense and contract around him, nearly blinding Joel with the heat of your velvety soft walls choking his shaft. You lean forward, trying to get comfortable, and when the car bounces over a speed bump on the way out of the parking lot, you both groan with pleasure and frustration.
“You feel better?” Dave asks you as he navigates swiftly back to yours.
“So full,” you state, desperately fighting the urge to beg Joel to grab your hips and fuck you. You weren’t exactly exaggerating the last time you had sex with Joel when you said you missed his “big fat cock.” Every bump on the road has you biting back moans, and you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position.
“Please,” Joel’s low voice is strained and ragged, “quit moving.”
You should’ve had the foresight to realize this wasn’t a punishment for Joel. This was just going to weaken your resolve. You know the second he gets his hands on you, it’s useless. You’re his through and through. You thought you were still pissed off enough that he couldn’t get to you, that Dave’s presence would keep you on track.
Well, you didn’t really think about it at all. You just felt your knees go weak when, and your cunt do a flip when Dave made the suggestion. You need to make a mental note to show him just how much you appreciate his dirty mind when you get back home.
You can feel Joel’s growl rumbling through his chest and his thighs tensing beneath you. It’s a vicious cycle. Every sound he makes is like a call and response with your body. Your cunt denounces your orders to stay still and pulses rhythmically, trying to take Joel’s cock deeper on it’s own accord. His breath hitches, and you adjust.
“Baby,” he rasps, sounding wrecked, “I can’t–fuck–can’t do this if you’re gonna be a fuckin’ tease. His hands wrap around your hips, fingers digging harshly into your flesh in an attempt to keep you still, but the pressure makes you cry out softly.
“Is your chair complaining?” Dave mocks, and Joel’s cock tenses inside of you.
“I’m about to complain,” you try to snark, but it comes out needy instead.
“What do you need, dirty girl?” He asks sincerely. You know it’s not long to get home, but you can’t think straight with Joel’s cock so deep inside of you.
“Fuck, I…” you wiggle again, causing Joel to grunt behind you, and the noise makes your pussy flex, “I can’t,” you trail off, digging your nails into your palms, trying to steady yourself. You feel pathetic right now, unable to put together a sentence and barely able to keep yourself still.
“Hey,” Dave coos gently, seeing the pained expression on your face. “You decide what you want. Your rules. You want him to touch you?”
“Mmm,” you groan loudly with want, “please, please, please.”
Joel doesn’t hesitate, hands searching immediately and yanking you closer as he gropes at your body. The freedom to move gives him power over his urges, more control than either of you expected. His breath is hot against your neck before his voice, gravelly and dark, vibrates just behind your ear, “Missed hearing you beg for me.”
Your head lolls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open. You moan in sync as his hands wrap around your body, slipping under the top and bottom of your dress at the same time. You’re pinned, back against his firm chest, as one hand pinches at your hard nipple and the other taps at your clit. Your body struggles in his strong arms, unable to bow at the overstimulation of his touch. All you can manage is to rut your hips into him.
“You desperate to come on my cock again, baby?” he goads you. Feeling confident now that he’s free to run his filthy mouth again. Feeling drunk on your needy noises and the way you writhe for him. He carries on teasing you in his Joel-specific way with his words and his fingers. It’s maddening, and you feel lit up, skin tingling as you’re at his mercy. You can only see blinding light, like you’re inside of a star, as you get closer and closer.
You’re too incapacitated to realize you’ve made it home, that the car has stopped moving, that Dave has turned to watch you. Joel continues to rasp filth into your ear, but your body spasms in response when Dave begins to encourage you. “That’s right,” Dave coaxes you, “take what you need.”
You do. Falling headfirst into the rush, broken, gasping, moans ringing through the car. The scent of sex swirling in the air. Your tension snaps, flooding with endorphins, and riding through the waves as you’re fully supported by Joel’s arms and body.
“Fuck,” Joel chokes out, biting down into the curve of your neck to stifle himself. Your cunt still weakly tries to milk his cock as your hips twitch and jerk while you ease back down from your orgasm. You can feel the mess you’ve made. Hot and sopping wet, dripping down Joel’s cock and making you slip against his thighs. You’ve never made such a mess before.
Joel shudders and tenses beneath you. Lifting you off of him with a familiar grunt. It’s his come leaking out of you. Your head swivels, “that wasn’t for you.” His cocky attitude from minutes earlier is gone; shame washes over him. His curls are no longer tamed like they were when he showed up at your door; one sticks to the sweat on his forehead. He breathes deeply, chest rising and falling, as he mouths a barely audible apology.
It’s twisted that it stirs your need to comfort him. Fuck it. You figure the whole evening has been wild enough so far. Plus, he can take some of the emotional whiplash this time. You’re tired of being the one with that look on your face. You can see the taunt dancing on Dave’s tongue; you know he’s ready to cut Joel with vicious words, but he holds them, waiting for your lead.
It’s an unbelievable position to be in. You aren’t used to feeling like you’ve got the upper hand in the power dynamic like this. Not with Joel. Not with two men that radiate dominance like it’s in their DNA. You’d like to savor the moment, but now that you’re not burning a horny fever, you realize how incredibly impractical it is to sit on top of such a large man inside of the car. You’re all gonna end up with neck cramps if you’re in here another minute.
Despite dying to know what Dave’s holding back, you have more mercy than him or Joel. Joel, who currently can’t look you in the eye as he stays uncomfortably rigid beneath you, well, except for his spent cock. The thought makes you snort weakly, amused at your own sense of humor.
You contort in Joel’s lap to kiss him softly on the cheek. “Chin up, Joel,” you lilt. “You can make it up to me. We’re not done yet,” you nod towards Dave who smirks darkly, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” You open the door and hop out, leaving both men to watch you walk to the door. For the first time since you opened your door tonight, you’re alone long enough to let some nerves start to get to you.
Your dates don’t follow immediately. They take long enough that you start to spin out in your head. Are you insane for this whole idea? Did you really just crawl under a table to Dave in front of Joel? In public? What the fuck are they talking about without you? You’re impatient now, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, letting the cool night air stream into your living room.
Then they’re striding towards you. Hungry eyes glinting. Both are intimidatingly gorgeous in their own ways. Dave exudes a slightly detached, effortless, authoritative swagger. It makes you feel special when he gives you his undivided attention. Joel is raw, slightly untethered like he’s always weary from warring with his own demons, but he still wields lethal power. They stalk towards you swiftly, catching your concern as they usher you towards your bedroom with more coordination than you expected.
The door closes behind you with a soft click, but the tension in the air is heavy, as if someone had slammed it shut. Your room feels smaller with the weight of the situation about to unfold. Dave’s presence behind you makes your pulse quicken; the head of his body and his signature scent surround you. Joel watches, leaning against the door, arms crossed, jaw set, determined restraint weighing on his features. Despite the distance between you, Joel’s presence feels all-consuming. You’re mesmerized by his figure. His arms look even bigger, crossed in front of him, his broad shoulders, his pouty bottom lip, his strong jaw. You feel possessed with the need to …bite him? But, you don’t move.
Dave’s fingers trace lightly down your spine as you continue to unabashedly ogle Joel, who stiffens at the sight of Dave’s hands slipping the straps of your dress over your shoulders. He’s unreadable, but the something simmering beneath the forced calm is contextually obvious. Joel’s trying to keep his cool; he doesn’t flinch, but he shifts, unable to remain still while he can only watch.
Katie always referred to the chair in your room you designated as laundry purgatory as the cuck chair. It was only a joke, but if it isn’t perfect now. You glide across the room, tossing the worn-once sweatshirts and denim into the laundry hamper for future you to sort, offering the seat to Joel. It’s comical how his presence seems so out of place on the thrifted antique parlor chair.
You giggle softly as you spin back toward Dave, eager to find out what his depraved mind is plotting for the rest of the night. Dave’s voice is a low hum as he welcomes you into his arms, “Let’s make sure Joel gets a good look at what he’s missing out on, hm?” You nod, letting Dave arrange you as he pleases. “Pay attention,” he orders Joel, “I’m doing you a favor.” You can hear the devious glee lurking beneath Dave’s controlled tone. Joel’s dark eyes spark with something fierce as they flick to Dave before landing back on you.
You can feel your pulse beating in your neck—and your cunt—as your chest heaves dramatically as Dave’s hands move over you. His touch is both tender and possessive as he makes a show of removing all of your clothes. It’s exaggerated to eat at Joel, but it works you up just the same. Dave pauses, letting his fingers hover over your nipples, brushing them just enough to make you shiver before kneading your soft tits, making you gasp.
“You see that?” Dave asks over your shoulder, addressing Joel. “She’s so needy already. All worked up again. How are you going to satisfy her if she needs my cock right after you make her come?”
You see Joel stiffen, gripping the arms of your chair like he might crush them. He’s still holding on to some semblance of composure, but it’s unraveling. You didn’t expect the dynamic between them to hit you straight in the pussy, but you’re dizzy, humming with anticipation.
“On the bed, greedy girl,” Dave instructs. You follow without question, crawling onto the mattress, your pulse pounding in your ears. Joel’s eyes are glued to you, devouring every inch of your bare skin. It’s impossible for you to look away from him. His struggle as he works so fucking hard not to show how much he wants you, even though it’s written all over his face, is driving you wild. His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to touch you, to take.
With your head still turned, locked onto the sight of Joel, your mouth parts in a soft gasp as Dave’s broad hands spread your legs wide, exposing your heated skin to the cool air in the room. You break away from your staring contest to catch the searing heat in Dave’s eyes before he lowers, pausing just before his lips brush against your swollen clit. He doesn’t ease the ache yet, lifting his head and turning to Joel with a smirk. “Come closer. You might learn something,” he challenges smugly.
You’d roll your eyes at his arrogance, but then he dives in, tongue sliding against your slick cunt with devastating precision. You can only dig your fingers into your sheets as you arch and moan in response to his expert rhythm. With your eyes squeezed shut and your breath coming in uneven, shallow pants, you relax into the sensation coursing through you.
“Tell him,” Dave hums into your skin, “Tell Joel how good it feels.”
Your eyes flutter open, meeting Joel’s gaze. The sight of him has you at a loss for words. His face is expressionless, but as always, his eyes betray him. Sharp, hungry, and barely containing the storm inside of him. “So… feels, fuck, feels so good.”
Joel’s chest rises and falls heavily. Dave’s taunts don’t hurt Joel’s pride, but watching you fall apart for another man twists his gut harshly. You’re so close he could count the beads of sweat forming on your chest. He can taste you and smell you, and it drives him wild. Like a beast, only held back by his hope to have a chance for more.
Dave chuckles against you, his breath teasing your clit before he wraps his lips around it, sucking hard. The pleasure slams through you, and you cry out, your hips jerking against his mouth. Every nerve ending alight with sensation. You can’t think, only feel.
“She’s so responsive,” Dave gloats.
Joel doesn’t acknowledge the comment. His composure is cracking, the frustration bubbling to the surface. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes stay glued to the place where Dave’s mouth moves over you with expert ease.
But Dave isn’t done with either of you yet. He pulls back from between your legs, his fingers trailing over your slick skin as he moves to stand. His eyes are alight with that dangerous gleam that makes your heart race. “Let’s show Joel what a dirty girl you are for me.”
You’re eager to obey. “How do you want me?” Your voice is breathy and ragged already. It only crosses your mind now that you’re completely naked while they’re still fully dressed. You sit up, reaching for Dave’s belt before he’s answered you. He takes off his shirt while you work diligently to release his cock. “Look at her, Joel,” Dave taunts, his voice thick with pride and adoration for you. “She just wants to be fucked right.”
Joel swallows hard. The effort it takes to keep himself in check is wavering. He’s burning with the urge to claim you, to show you the meaning of being fucked right, to make you come so hard you forget Dave’s name. His ears ring, tuning Dave out completely, watching you adjust, lying back on your pillows, welcoming Dave between your legs.
Joel is transfixed. Watching as Dave positions himself between your legs and slides into you with an agonizingly slow thrust. Distantly, he can hear you moaning loudly; he can hear Dave continuing to goad him about how tight you are and how he gives you what you need or whatever else he thinks matters. All Joel can process is the sight of Dave’s cock disappearing inside of you. Over and over and over again.
A deep, nauseating wave of embarrassment sinks heavily into Joel’s stomach. You wanted to punish him? Like this? It’s too absurd to be a joke, to be a sick prank. It can’t be some kind of trap. You aren’t cruel like that. Worse. He’s trapped between his anger and arousal. Forced to watch as Dave takes you apart, piece by piece. Tortured by his own cock throbbing painfully in response to everything about you. He looks at your face and feels dismantled by your gaze. Hazy and sweet, you’re staring at him, wet lips parted as you gasp shallowly while Dave keeps up his pace.
Joel’s composure is slipping, his hands flexing before he gives in, trying to readjust. Hoping to find the slightest relief as he palms himself over his jeans. Your brows wrinkle with pleasure, and a breathy “oh, fuck,” slips out of you. Seeing Joel so turned on just from watching you sends you rolling into a warm, vision-blurring climax.
“I know,” Dave coos in your ear as you catch your breath, “I know.” He’s still murmuring against your neck, but it’s the silent exchange with Joel that makes you smile lazily. You think he figured it out, the power he has over you with just his expressions. That he’s the one that has you breathless. “Tell her,” Dave growls over you.
“Good girl,” Joel utters hoarsely, mouth dry. He sees the glow wash over you at his words, and it clicks. Finally. Whatever it is between you affects you just as much. His punishment isn’t watching someone else please you, wondering if they really can make you feel better than he can. Wondering if they’ll treat you better. If you’re better off without Joel at all. No.
It’s knowing they can’t. Knowing you’ve been just as empty without him as he’s been without you. That it’s been his fault. He’s made it worse. You’re all he can fuckin’ think about, and he’s in your head just the same.
And right now his punishment is to wait this night out. To be vulnerable and reveal the truth. The desperate desire he has for you. He’s pathetic with it, honestly. He’ll sit here all night, show you how hard you make him, tell you how badly he wants you, describe how perfect you are, anything. It starts to pour out of him as his jealousy and anger recede. “So good, baby, you look beautiful, like a dream,” Joel’s voice is filled with earnest wonder. You beam, your eyelids heavy with lust as Joel continues. “I want you so bad it hurts. You’ve got me losing my fuckin’ mind.”
“That’s a start,” Dave commends Joel before he shifts, pulling out and flipping you onto your hands and knees. You can hear Joel cursing under his breath as Dave kneads the plush curves of your ass, spreading you wide and showing off your glossy cunt. “You see that? Perfect, right?” He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond, focused on lining himself up and sliding back inside of you as deep as he can.
Dave groans along with you as he lights up every nerve within you, and your pussy contracts coaxing him deeper. He pauses when his hips meet your ass, filling you to the hilt before he wraps an arm around you to pull your back flush against his chest. “Look at him,” Dave tilts your head to be sure you can take in Joel’s wrecked expression. “You think he deserves to touch himself while I’m fucking you?” Dave asks, shifting his attention back to you, mischief twinkling in his eyes.
“No,” you reply, resolute. “He doesn’t deserve it. But I want to watch, so he will.” Dave’s grin widens, reveling in your direct nature. He lowers you, and you adjust, resting your cheek on your pillow so you can watch. “Please, Joel, let me see.” Your begging has the exact effect you wanted on Joel when you hear the throaty groan he makes.
You squirm involuntarily when you finally get a clear view of Joel’s cock, clenching tightly around Dave’s cock. He hums behind you, muttering about how you’re unreal, and he hopes Joel can handle a woman like you as he slowly drags himself almost completely out of you before snapping his hips brutally, slamming back into you.
You’re bewitched. The head of Joel’s cock glistens, weeping with precome, enticing, and menacing as his fist strokes slowly along his shaft. You’re salivating at the debauched scene and drenching Dave’s cock as he continues to slowly work you back up. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.
“You see that?” Dave asks you, “Look how desperate he is. You think he wants to come?”
“Yes,” you reply, “fuck, yes.”
“Ladies first, though, hm?” Dave muses as he picks up his pace, pushing you closer, finding the perfect angle that makes your mind go blank. The pressure builds inside you, and the louder you get, the more Joel starts to fall apart. Your flip between Joel’s eyes and his fist pumping his cock ravenously. For you. All for you.
That sends you over the edge, wringing all the pleasure out of you, taking Dave with you as he stills against you, cock pulsing hotly inside of you, as your limbs feel weak and you sink into the mattress. You watch as Joel spills over his knuckles, cursing and grunting as he comes, and it makes you giddy.
Dave kisses your shoulder tenderly, praising you quietly, just for you, before he gets up and, like clockwork, heads to the bathroom to clean up and get you a warm washcloth. You continue to grin loosely, giggling softly, still amused by how out of place Joel looks. You see the fear flit across his face, and a cold, nasty feeling rips through you as you brace for the worst. Cruel words spring up, ready to protect you, but you hold your tongue. You won’t guilt him into staying. You can’t choose for him.
It’s a painfully long minute. He doesn’t look at you. You try not to shut down. And then Dave is back, ever the gentleman, with warm washcloths for both of you. He checks in with you softly, “What do you need?”
The words stick in your throat. You sit up and force yourself to get them out. It’s barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to Joel.” He looks at you finally, as if you whispering his name snapped him out of a trance. Dave nods.
“You want me to stay?” Dave asks. You blink at him curiously. Neither of you do sleepovers. You don’t need a bodyguard. You must have it stamped across your forehead like a holiday package: fragile.
“No.”
He takes your word for it, redressing and heading out swiftly. Leaving you alone with Joel.
Unreadable Joel. With no clues in his eyes or his body language. His head follows you, watching as you cross the room to grab a shirt. You honestly wonder if he could disappear in the half a second your vision is obscured while you pull it over your head, but he’s still there. So, you gather your courage and face him head-on.
“Can we talk?”
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After all these years, ‘I Remember You’ is still one of the great highlights of Adventure Time Storytelling. And not just in the basic ‘what???? Silly children’s cartoon does something SAD??? HOLY SHIT MIND BLOWN’ way. But with the execution of that Something Sad. How it manages to pack so many Complex Emotions into just 11-minutes of television. And especially the way it utilizes the basic Adventure Time format for that purpose.
So Adventure Time is a Board-based show. Each episode has an outline pitched and written down by the writer’s room, and then this outline goes to a team of (usually) two Storyboard Artists who develop that simple outline into a full story. And with the show’s art-style deliberately eschewing staying perfectly ‘on-model’ in favor of having the animators take direct reference from how the different storyboarders draw the characters
And the show being generally extremely versatile in terms of themes and tone - AT has allowed a lot of their Storyboarders to really express themselves and their unique artistic vision as part of the Big Collaborative Narrative that is Adventure Time.
Now, the Boarders who worked on ‘I Remember You’ are Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar. These two were a Storyboarding Duo from the start of S4 and until Sugar left the AT Crew during S5, and they always struck me as a curious combination. I think really from all of the individual boarders working on AT during that time, these two really are the closest to having like… Totally Opposite Artistic Sensibilities as boarders.
With Sugar favoring a style that is very loose and sketchy and also very rounded. Focusing on expressions and subtle body language and lighting. And being famous for going deep in depth into Big Moments of Emotional Catharsis
And Sanchez having a very clear art style that emphasizes strong silhouettes and clear lines that suggest flatness. Focusing more on major poses and the character’s positions in the space. And having just a really great eye for AT’s brand of silly humor.
Like, I almost kinda suspect these two were paired together so they can each cover for the other’s “weakspots” in writing ‘Adventure Time’.
And there were a few episodes that did some really interesting stuff with this very contrasting pair - ‘Jake the Dog’ is another example. Giving most of the Farmworld scenes to Sugar and most of the Time Room scenes to Sanchez both plays to their personal strengths as storyboarders and helps to emphasize the strong emotional contrast between these two scenarios.
And ‘I Remember You’ is actually kinda unique among Adventure Time episodes cause… Most episodes will have the two boarders alternate between working on the episode throughout it. Like you’d have Boarder A draw a bit and then Boarder B and then Boarder A again… But “I Remember You” is divided between Sanchez and Sugar… basically perfectly in the middle.
So the entirety of the first half of the episode was boarded by Sanchez
Until Ice King pushes Marceline and then leaves the room in shame.
And then, Sugar takes over.
And, like, even if you don’t know anything about the Behind the Scenes of Adventure Time or who Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar even are - the Shift is noticeable. The shift in tone, in narrative focus, in the subtleties in which the characters are drawn.
The entire first half of the episode has this thin veneer of just being a Silly Goofy Ice King Episode. Sanchez’s talent for Adventure Time’s brand of comedy is on full display… but there is also this underlying feeling that Something is Happening just under the surface. And these hints of the Big Emotions of ‘IRY’ expressed via Sanchez’s kinda goofy style really create this balance between putting the audience into a false sense of security that this is just a Very Normal Episode about two characters hanging out and the Tension constantly brewing in the subtext.
And then it all comes to a blow.
And then the Shift happens. And now we are in Sugar’s court.
And this subtle shift in the artstyle and storytelling also coincide with Marceline finally openly expressing her feelings and the Reveal of Simon and Marcy's shared past. The episode changes focus from Ice King's silly antics to Marceline's feelings. Everything changes, everything in the first part of the episode gets recontextualized and... even on the most basic level, the episode is now Noticeably Different.
I would almost say that Sanchez’s half of the episode has Ice King define the tone, while Sugar’s half of the episode has Marceline define the tone. But more than anything it’s the catharsis. The reveal and release of those emotions that were building up so expertly through the Sanchez half of the episode. All of the Sugar-boarded scenes in this episode are really heartbreaking on their own, just through the tragedy of the story and Sugar’s expert knowledge of howto convey emotion in the visual medium - but it’s so enchanted by what came before it.
“I Remember You” is truly a great testament to how ‘Adventure Time’ could use every aspect of its medium to tell a great story in such a short time.
#adventure time#at#atimers#adventure time analysis#i remember you#rebecca sugar#Cole Sanchez#storyboard#ice king#simon petrikov#simon and marcy#the ice king#marceline#marceline the vampire queen#marceline abadeer#at ice king#at simon#adventure time ice king#adventure time simon#ice king adventure time#simon adventure time#simon at#marceline adventure time#at marceline#adventure time marceline#marceline at
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Check Yes ch 10
masterpost
“Why are you so cheerful?” Damian narrowed his eyes up at Dick, as if he could possibly intimidate his elder brother. “And why are you still here? Return to Bloodhaven at once, where someone might desire your presence.” He dropped his phone on the bench with a clack and roughly pulled his sweatshirt over his head. His hair floofed up after it, trailing with static electricity.
Wow, someone was still holding a grudge over him spilling the beans about the elementary school art show. Why so cranky? Cass and Stephanie hadn’t done anything embarrassing, they’d just come with him and said that it was nice. Damian had done this family portrait thing where no one had eyes or hands. It was avante garde or something. Dick didn’t really get it, but the technical proficiency was really impressive.
Dick bounced on his heels a bit as he got his gloves on. He felt his hair bounce with the movement. He felt extremely light and breezy. “Because you would miss me,” he teased.
Damian grunted and looked away. He yanked open his locker and pretended that he was the only one in the changing room as he pulled off his pajama pants and started to wiggle into the Robin uniform. The leg armor squeaked as he forced it up and into place.
Quiet footsteps padded into the room. Dick caught sight of Timmy in his locker mirror.
‘He will definitely be up for fucking with Jason and his date a little.’
“There is a little something going on tonight,” Dick said, faux casually. He cracked his neck and then started going through the double check of all the fastenings of his uniform and basic equipment. “Remember earlier, when Duke sent that odd message?”
Damian grunted.
“Well, I looked into it, and-”
“Holy shit, Jason is calling out of patrol tonight in the group chat.” Stephanie’s voice trailed faintly over the divider between the locker rooms. “Do you see this shit, Nicki Minaj?”
Dick blinked. “Nicki Min-”
That apparently meant Tim, who lunged for his phone and unlocked it. He stared in disbelief for a moment. “Is he allowed to do that?” he asked. He scrunched his face up, clearly disturbed.
‘Makes sense, but does that mean I’m going to be chasing Jason, not Red Hood?’ Dick crinkled up his nose and thought about it. Probably not? He didn’t want to give anyone the impression that Jason’s civilian ID was being hunted by law enforcement. Jay probably just didn’t want Dick to be able to track him down too easily. Fair enough. 5 of them on patrol was quite honestly a lot more than Gotham needed on an average night.
Damian snorted. “Don’t be absurd,” he sneered. “We are all entitled to a certain number of rest days per week. Have you forgotten the holistic wellness powerpoint presentation so easily, you despicable fool?”
“Shut up, nerd.” Tim held his phone in Damian’s face.
Damian stared at it without blinking for a long few seconds. “...I was not aware this was a genre of action of which he was capable.” He looked incredibly troubled.
The expression wiped off of Dick’s face.
‘What did that little shit do?’
“Maybe it’s a sick mind game?” Stephanie suggested, voice lifting in question.
Dick yanked his locker open and dug his phone out. He unlocked it in a blur of motion, already scowling.
Jay had sent a picture to the birdchat with a selfie of him and a man who must be Danny, the dead guy on the other end of the sacrifice contract. They were leaning together over a dinner table. Jay was cheesing for the camera, a glint in his eye that said he knew he was being a little shit. Danny looked kinda dazed, which probably meant he wasn’t quite wild enough for their life. Dick nearly felt a tinge of guilt about tagging him into their rivalry, but hey, it was just a friendly game.
The accompanying message was, “Can’t patrol tonight, I’m spending time with the boyfriend. Stay safe, losers and Steph.”
Dick huffed. He slammed his locker shut. Fine. So, he didn’t get to share the exciting news! That was fine. That was fair, even. Jay should get to launch his own relationship. It was just kinda-
Wait. He scrambled to open the locker again and looked at the selfie again.
He knew the wall behind them. It was an Italian place where Jay laundered money from the sale of imported Dutch narcotics.
‘They have to still be there,’ he realized, mind running through the minutes since he had confirmed with Babs via camera that the two were at the planetarium. He grinned like the Grinch and rushed out. “Bye, see you out there,” he called over his shoulder to the locker room and snatched up his helmet. He had already changed, after all! No need to wait around for the slowpokes and the old man who still wasn’t even coming down the Bat staircase yet.
Nightwing flung himself onto his motorcycle and tore off into the night. He crossed the bridge into Gotham, a flash of blue reflected off the choppy water below. It felt like minutes until he kicked out the stand for his bike and dismounted, clicking the protective tech on without stopping for a minute. He took the rickety, rust-red stairs up the outside of the building and slithered in the stairwell.
He wasn’t an amateur. He knew that Jay knew what he’d done. He was expecting Dick to come here. But that didn’t mean Dick couldn’t gain ground. Jay might still be here. Dick crept out into the restaurant through the kitchen, ducking out of sight from the line cook and bursting through the kitchen double doors in utter silence.
His gaze went unerringly to the table where the photo had been taken. A grim-faced waiter looked up, pristine white cloth in the process of wiping it down. “There’s a note for you,” he said. He indicated the receipt with a head tilt and finished his task, wiping down the salt shaker and other accoutrement.
Boo. Dick deflated. “Thank you,” he said. It was too much to expect for this to end first thing. Ah. He cheered up at the realization that this was better, actually. He was clearly only minutes behind them. The game wouldn’t be fun if it was too easy, after all. With that in mind he felt pretty chipper as he reached for the no doubt taunting note Jay would have left him on the back of the receipt. In his peripheral vision he noted the waiter picking up a short mop and running it over the floor under where Jay and Danny’s feet would have been.
…A riddle. They left him a riddle. “How does water fall onto a cranky little stormcloud?” Puzzled, he blinked. Uh, water going up? Something about condensation, about pipes, about… stormcloud? He crinkled his eyebrows and thought about Damian’s thunderous little face, chubby cheeks and all, positively sick with fury that Dick had betrayed him by attending his art show.
He had a bad feeling. He looked up. There, in the unfinished rafters, alien green eyes stared down at him predatorily from an inhumanly pale face.
Dick froze. Jason’s boyfriend was clinging to the ceiling like goddamn Dracula climbing down the castle wall, one clawed hand wrapped around a rafter, feet braced against another in a way that made his limbs look just slightly too long and angular. The other hand was holding a bucket.
Fuck. Dick dodged in a roll and barely evaded the bulk of the splash zone.
“Loser!” Jason’s voice called out.
Dick whipped his head over to see his brother grinning at him from the kitchen in a goddamn kitchen staff apron. “Bitch!” he said, appalled. Had he really walked past him without realizing it? No way. Just no way. He looked back up and jolted.
Danny was gone.
Fuck!
He looked back at the kitchen just in time to see Danny drape himself over Jason’s shoulder in a boneless way, flash a grin with teeth that were far too long, and then… and then. They both faded out of sight as Dick rushed the door. There was no hint as to where they had gone.
‘I should have gotten tactical information about Danny’s ghost abilities before I challenged them. This is on me, a little bit. I’ll have to have Babs take a look… No, not yet. They’re probably going around by one of Jason’s bikes, I can check on what’s missing and plug the license plate number into the auto search program.’’
“Excuse me.”
Disheartened, Dick blinked back at the waiter, who had already mopped up the water that Danny had dropped on him. He was impassively holding out another wet towel.
”...Thank you,” Dick said, and dried his left shin off so he stopped leaving drips across the restaurant.
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MIRROR, MIRROR: AN EVER AFTER HIGH ZINE ANNOUNCEMENT !!
holy SHIT did we get a lot of attention. the preliminary polls can be found here: POLL 1 ; POLL 2. each got well over 100 votes, and I'm hoping we can keep rolling with that energy to get some contributors!!!!
MIRROR, MIRROR: AN EVER AFTER HIGH ZINE
Ever After High fundamentally builds on the idea of narrative parallels through the double-sided coin of a story, the two narrators, and the clearly divided ideological forces. We are using those narrative parallels as the fundamental theme for this zine. Whether you're interested in romantic relationships (hero x villain, royal x rebel), familial ties (twins, parallels between mother and daughter), or platonic or ideological ideals (royal vs rebel conflict) -- we want a zine built on DUALITY, PARALLEL, and LEGACY.
THE APPLICATION FORM IS HERE:
(I'm sorry, you do have to log in to be able to upload files to google forms, but I am NOT collecting email addresses. if this causes any inaccessibility for applying for you, please just DM me and we can work it out.)
APPLICATIONS WILL CLOSE OCTOBER 18, 2024.
#sockspeaks#ever after high#eah#mirror mirror eah zine#<- this will be the official tag#for now at least#zine#applications
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No Accounting for Taste
For the @steddie-spooktober day 11 prompt: "That is the dumbest looking jack-o-lantern I've ever seen." Rated: T | Words: 1114 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, bickering, fluff, annoying older brother behavior Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
Follows day 3: Tastes Better on You
“Wait, no, not like that.”
“Do you want to do this?”
“No, I just – like, you should make it a little pointier there and–”
“I will give you the knife, just–”
“Steve, if you’re going to stab Eddie, can I have his share of the pumpkin seeds?”
Steve and Eddie both look up from the pumpkin they’ve been arguing over to where Max has spoken from across the kitchen.
“Also, I’ll need a new ride home, if you do,” she adds, her own focus still on carving out the mouth of the pumpkin she and El are collaborating on.
“I’m not going to stab Eddie.” Steve rolls his eyes. “At least, not if he makes up his mind.”
“I have made up my mind!” Eddie insists. “It’s very made up! I’m trying to impart my vision of a perfect jack-o-lantern to you, and things are getting lost in translation.”
“Uh huh.” Steve turns an unimpressed look back on the pumpkin. “You want the eyes pointier?”
“Yeah. Really make those corners sharp,” Eddie says, dragging his finger around the edges of the eyes Steve has already carved in.
“Well, I’m wielding a steak knife, but I’ll see what I can do,” Steve drawls.
“I’m using a steak knife and I’m not having problems,” Dustin pipes up from behind his pumpkin.
“Having problems keeping quiet is what you’re having,” Steve mutters, already applying himself to carving out the corners of the eyes, and Eddie snorts out a laugh.
Sharing a pumpkin had seemed like such a good idea at first. Max had offered to share with El, since El had never carved a pumpkin before, and they aren’t having issues. And at first, neither had Eddie and Steve; Eddie had dealt with the “slimy shit” and gutted the pumpkin, as promised, and then he’d pressed the handle of the knife into Steve’s hand.
“I killed it, now you’re going to carve it,” he’d insisted.
(This had been as much to include Steve as it had been to keep him from snapping at anyone who came too close to getting pumpkin innards on the kitchen floor.)
“Are you sure?” Steve had asked. “I haven’t carved a pumpkin in a long time. I don’t even know what to put on there.”
“Of course I’m sure.” Eddie had pecked a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “You carve, I’ll direct. I have a vision.”
It turns out, however, that getting Steve to see his vision has been rather difficult. It has so far involved a lot of charades, references to movies Steve hasn’t seen, and one instance of attempting to use Mike as a prop (this had been short-lived and not particularly helpful). The results are… mixed.
Steve is certainly getting the eyes to a finer point, though Eddie will admit there are limitations in using a steak knife as a carving tool (he would, however, love to see Mrs. Harrington’s face if she were to learn that her nice cutlery had been used on pumpkins by a feral pack of teenage misfits). The nose needs some fine-tuning, and the mouth is… well, Steve had done his best. That one’s kind of on Eddie; he’d told Steve to make the teeth “needlelike,” and a few had come out so thin that they’d snapped right off.
But the remaining ones do look like needles!
“Okay, so, for the ears–” Eddie starts, only to be cut off when Steve’s head snaps up from his work.
“Just how complicated is this thing supposed to be?” he demands.
“We’re almost done, I swear.” Eddie tosses his hands up in surrender.
Eyeing him with suspicion, Steve is likely just about to tell Eddie how far he trusts that assurance when Mike stumbles right into their staring match.
“Hey, do you guys have the– holy shit.” He pauses, whatever it is he’d been about to ask for forgotten as he takes in an eyeful of their pumpkin. “That is the dumbest looking jack-o-lantern I’ve ever seen.”
“Okay, y’know what, Wheeler?” Steve gestures at Mike, apparently forgetting (probably?) that he’s holding a knife as he does so.
“Actually, Michael,” Eddie jumps in, subtly pushing Steve’s hand down in the process, “our jack-o-lantern is genius.”
Mike shoots him an impressively bitchy look of disbelief, so Eddie goes on.
“See, the rest of you can have your pretty, symmetrical pumpkins, carved up all nice and neat, but do you know what that’s going to attract?” Eddie looks around at the assembled teenagers without waiting for an answer. “Vandals! Nothing is more tempting on Halloween night than the prospect of smashing a perfectly carved jack-o-lantern.”
“And you know this, how?” Lucas snarks.
Eddie ignores him. “Meanwhile, mine and Steve’s masterpiece will be practically invisible. It’ll escape the night unscathed and live to see the dawn of November!”
“Because it looks like someone already kicked it in,” Mike deadpans.
“It’s called camouflage, Wheeler,” Eddie shoots back.
“D’you think Mike’s will be the first to go?” Steve leans in, stage whispering to Eddie.
“It’s a pretty tempting target,” Eddie agrees in an undertone that isn’t at all quiet. “But then, Henderson’s is pretty big…”
“Hey!” Dustin squawks, popping up from behind the pumpkin that had nearly taken both him and Steve to get from the van to the kitchen.
This is the beginning of squabble over whose pumpkin is nicest and thus most likely to be vandalized, and whether or not this is a compliment, which Eddie observes with glee.
“Steve!” El calls over the ruckus. “I am finished with the seeds.”
While Steve can’t stand the feeling of pumpkin guts on his skin, El had deiced the sensation was a delight, and so had been tasked with separating the seeds from the pulp for roasting. She’d taken to the task with single-minded zeal, only emerging to offer the occasional opinion as Max carved their pumpkin.
“That’s my cue.” Steve hands the knife to Eddie and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll let you take care of the ears.”
Eddie watches as Steve crosses through the chaos of the kitchen, dodging waving hands and piles of pumpkin chunks to reach El on the other side.
“Wow,” Steve says, eyeing the large bowl she’s nearly filled, “that is a shit-ton of seeds.”
“A shit-ton,” El agrees solemnly.
“Yep, Hopper’s going to appreciate me teaching you that one.” Steve claps his hands together. “C’mon, let’s get those rinsed, and then we’ll season them.”
Turning back to the mess that is their shared jack-o-lantern, surrounded by the din of arguing teenagers, Eddie can’t help but grin. There’s really no saving the thing, but he thinks he loves it anyway.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#the party#stranger things#steddie-spooktober#eddie & the party#steve & the party#solar wrote#eddiesteve
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Lollipops
Post-War: Levi Ackerman x Reader
wc: 4.3k
warnings: SPOILERS. im so serious guys. SPOILERS. if you havent watched/read to the FINALE, do not progress. you've been warned. also theres a little tiny bit of gore.
a/n: this is self-defense writing to protect my sanity after the last ep. im so not okay with it being over. also requests are open, i'll write anything! also, this is written in flashbacks. but never fear, the flashbacks are separated from the present by dividers, so you'll know when it switches.
“You two are like a fairytale couple,” a young girl giggles, hugging a pink-covered book to her chest. “Like a damsel and her prince.”
You smile, pulling a lollipop out of your box — and then another, handing them to her. “Take two for sweet-talking me. But remember that true love isn’t perfect by any means.”
She grins, nods, and takes her candy, sprinting off into an old woman’s arms. You sigh softly, looking up to see that the line of children coming to receive candy from Paridian heroes is momentarily empty.
“Not perfect, huh?” Levi asks from beside you, shifting in his chair.
You roll your eyes, gently flicking the side of his head. You crouch down to be on his level. “You’re saying that we had a fairytale romance? That you swept me off my feet and carried me away from danger?”
“Yes. I would. Now get your ass up, I don’t need you to get down for me,” he scowls, his eyes flicking over your kneeling form.
“I would get down on my knees for you anyti—”
“Up.”
You grin, but listen to him and stand up, picking up your box once more. “Fairytale, huh? So what are you, the savior?”
“I’d say it’s even. Although, I remember saving your ass much more often than you saved mine.”
You scoff, putting your hands on your hips. “Name a time!”
“Get your ass up, scout!”
You groan, shoving yourself up onto your elbows. “Just a sec,” you manage between heavy breaths, coughing and coughing.
Hoofbeats approach and you whimper, knowing that if that’s the captain you think it is, you’re about to get the beating of a lifetime.
“Why, exactly, are you laying in the dust?” Captain Levi Ackerman asks, tone cold and voice sharp as a knife. “You’re a transfer, not a cadet. From the MP’s, even. I expected better.”
“I’m recovering from an injury, Captain,” you wheeze out, pressing a hand to your side and shoving yourself up onto your knees. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“You’d better be. Now, up. On your feet, or be left behind.”
You pull one foot under you, then the other, and nearly collapse. His arm shoots out to grab your bicep, effectively keeping you up as your side screams in protest, ribs aching and tears springing to your eyes.
“What kind of an injury?” he asks, his grip tightening. “Why on earth would you switch to the Survey Corps while injured?”
“Ribs,” you hiss, gripping your side. The doctors have said that nearly all your ribs on your right side are either bruised, fractured, or completely broken. “And I had no choice. I had to leave.”
He narrows his eyes, but slowly releases you, making sure you’re not going to fall over the second he lets go. “You’re in no condition to be training, and I don’t need you getting worse. I have no interest in crippled soldiers. Go inside and get yourself assigned to kitchen duty for the next two weeks, on Ackerman’s orders.”
Your eyes slowly shift up from the ground to him, and you get your first good look at him.
And holy shit, the rumors of Humanity’s Strongest did not mention how mouth-wateringly attractive he is.
You give the dumbest nod you’ve ever given and turn on your heel. You hobble your way inside, and then immediately lean against a cold, stone wall, repeating to yourself in your head over and over again:
We are not falling for a captain.
We are not falling for a captain.
You open and close your mouth, then shrug. “Okay, but of course you were going to save my ass a lot while I was training. I’m sure it got better once I was a captain.”
“Did it, though?”
You elbow him, scowling. A smirk dances on his lips.
A woman grinning ear-to-ear starts your way, and you narrow your eyes. “She’s too old for candy.”
“Reporter,” Levi grumbles, looking down into his box, as if not making eye contact will stop her from approaching.
“Hi!” She shouts, giving a big wave. “I was hoping to ask you two a quick few questions, while you’re not too busy.”
“We’re quite busy,” Levi drones.
“Ah! I had heard about that grumpy attitude!” The reporter laughs, then looks at you. “And you must be his sunshine!”
You scratch the back of your neck, shrugging. “Something like that.”
The reporter whips out a pen and paper. “Now, all sources say that tog two have been married for quite some time, but nothing ever tells me when you two met, or how! Do tell.”
“We met in the service,” you start, rubbing your chin. “I had just transferred to the military police, so I was starting fresh in the Survey Corps.”
She quirks a brow. “Why did you transfer?”
The air simply won’t come to your lungs. You can’t breathe. The night sky doesn’t help, the fresh cool air is only suffocating you more.
You drop to the grass in the courtyard, one hand on your healing side and the other around your throat. Tears pour down your face, and you cough, and cough, and cough, and gasp.
It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself, but it doesn’t help. You can still remember what really happened, his hand around your neck, boot in your side, the bruises along each ridge of your spine from being tossed into a wall.
Your ribs may have been almost fully healed now, after two months being a Scout, but you still can feel each kick he gave you just for telling him no.
“Breathe.”
You sputter, looking up to see Captain Levi kneeling in front of you. He grips your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.
“Breathe, come on. Take a deep breath.”
You try, you really do, but you only end up sobbing harder. Your hands clench the grass.
He sighs heavily, scooting over to your side and awkwardly patting your back. “Breathe.”
You manage to slow your breathing, and take a few good deep breaths. Then you immediately stumble to your feet. “…Sorry. I’ll head back now.”
His hand is around your wrist before you can even register that he’s gotten up. “Why are you out here so late, crying in the damn courtyard?”
“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream, you murmur, tugging your hand away from him and heading back inside.
You feel assessing eyes on your back as you walk, and you can’t help but look down at your hand, that hand that you wore a ring on for a year and a half.
You’ve fallen silent, chewing your lip and looking off to the side. The reporter tilts her head, raising a brow.
“She just needed a fresh start,” Levi answers for you, placing a hand on your hip for reassurance. “And that’s what she got.”
She accepts that answer, writing down the words. “Now, how did you two end up together? Was it live at first sight?”
Levi scoffs. “Far from it.”
You glare at him. “Well, I liked you.”
“No, you hated me. You just wanted to fuck.”
“Thank you, Hange,” you grin, folding up the card again and tucking it back into the envelope, which reads ‘Congrats, new Captain!’. “I really appreciate it.”
A year in the Survey Corps flew by fast, and you had shown immense skill in the craft, therefore earning the title of Captain of your very own squad.
But your skills weren’t the only thing that had developed. You and Levi tolerated each other now, even if he thought you were loud and chaotic and you thought he was grumpy and sad, like a lonely old man.
And yet, you were drawn to him. He was handsome, and every once in a while you’d say something that would make his mouth tilt up, and… that mouth. It would be the death of you.
Hange heads out, leaving you alone in your room for the first time in hours. Everybody had been in and out, offering congratulations and words of advice.
You sink back onto your bed, yawning. It’s been a long day, and now you just want to sleep—
But a knocking comes on your door, and in walks Levi.
“I could have been naked,” you grin as he strides over, dumping a pile of paperwork on your desk.
“Captains have more paperwork than everybody else. I’ve been assigned to show you how to fill it out.”
“I bet you were hoping I was naked” you tease, but get up anyway, running a hand down your face as you stand next to him.
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re boring.”
“Boring? Really?”
“Yeah.”
There is a short silence, with Levi sorting through the papers. And suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that you are in your bedroom, alone, with Levi Ackerman.
And apparently he’s aware of it too, because he gives you a look.
And then you jump on him.
The reporter laughs and scratches a few things down on her pad of paper, her eyes crinkling around the edges. “And what year was this?”
“We met in 846, and then started seeing each other romantically in 847,” you explain. You open a lollipop and stick it in your mouth.
The reporter only stares at you, a brow lifted and eyes narrowed.
“Eleven years ago,” Levi says, and then she nods and writes it down.
“What—”
“Different years,” Levi murmurs, shaking his head. “They’re in the damn 1900’s, remember.”
You flush, blood rushing to your ears and cheeks. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with the rest of the world, you always forget that years are different and you can take a plane somewhere and getting a papercut doesn’t mean you might die of sepsis.
For you, it’s still 858.
“Did you two personally know Eren Jaeger?”
You crouch by the bars, tilting your head as you examine him. Just a child. Skinny. He couldn’t hurt a fly.
“This is the titan child?” You ask, squinting. “He’s, what, fifteen?”
“Yes. Please step back,” Levi says. “You don’t need to be that close.”
“He’s like a fleck of dirt in a crop field. I need to be this close to see him. Are you sure he really—“
The chains on his arms rattle, and you skitter back, slamming into the wall beside Levi.
“Careful,” he scowls, brushing dirt off of your shoulder.
“What… happened?” The boy asks, rubbing his eyes.
Erwin launches into a full explanation, and by the time he’s done the boy looks completely lost.
“You’re… the commander of the Survey Corps,” he looks at Erwin, “…And Captain Levi, and Captain {Y/N}… where am I?”
“A dungeon—”
Erwin keeps speaking, but a thump near the staircase catches your attention. You stride off, past the MP guards, and peek around the corner.
There, struggling against a guard, is the young girl that you’ve been told is Mikasa.
You scowl, shutting the door behind yourself and storming up to her.
“Calm down,” you whisper, taking both her wrists in one hand and pushing her up against a wall. “Do you realize what you’re risking here?”
“You don’t understand, I need to see him—”
“Shut up. You’re risking his freedom by coming this close. Go back upstairs.”
She glares at you, damn near baring her teeth. But you hold firm, and she slowly nods.
“Good, now go.”
You release her, and with one final glance over her shoulder, she trudges up the stairs.
You run a hand through your hair, thinking to yourself: these new scouts are going to be an issue, aren’t they?
“Yes,” you say, nodding. “We knew all of the kids.”
“All of them?” she asks, furiously scratching down your words.
“We were both captains when Eren’s year entered the corps — we trained them. Of course we knew them all.”
“On my squad,” you read off of your paper, speaking to the large crowd in front of you — all the scouts that will be on the next expedition. “…I am pulling in an extra scout. Mikasa Ackerman will join me in the center ranks.”
Whispers run through the crowd, and you step off of the stage, taking your spot next to Levi in the captains line. Erwin picks up a speech, talking about the squad formations.
A tap on your shoulder makes you turn, and your eyes widen as you’re met with your favorite chaos trio: Jean, Sasha, and Connie.
“Get into your formation,” you hiss.
“But, here’s the thing,” Jean whispers. “I’ve been really great during training. What do I have to do to get on your squad?”
“Jean!” you narrow your eyes. “You are not getting on my squad.”
“I would bring you food every day,” Sasha pleads, putting her hands out in a prayer position. “Please! We’d be the best squad ever.”
You actually pause to consider that for the food, but Levi stomps on your foot. “Ow— Uhm, no. Now return to formation or I’ll bump you down a squad.”
They skitter off, moving through the crowd. You just hope that they’ll go to the right place this time.
You sigh, facing forward again. You’ve already heard everything that Erwin has to say, so this is all repeat to you.
You brush your hand against Levi’s, and his pinky touches yours. You lock them together, resisting the urge to just lean into his warmth.
Pinkies locked, you wait out the rest of the assembly.
“Would you say you were close with any of them?”
Levi shrugs. “They respected me. They loved her.”
“Oh, they loved you too,” you grin, patting his shoulder. “Loved you enough for Historia to smack you the second she was legally allowed to.”
“Have there been any hardships?” The reporter cuts in.
You pause. Levi pauses.
“Of course,” he murmurs, voice softer now. He brushes his fingertips against your thigh.
As soon as you make it in through the gate, Levi is at your side, pulling his horse up next to yours.
“Let me look,” he murmurs, beckoning with his hand.
You shake your head, cradling your messily bandaged hand to your chest. “No.”
“{Y/N}. Let me look,” his voice is more stern now.
You know the damage. You found a cloaked figure up high in the trees, you went for the attack, and they were faster than you. It was a clean cut. Your index and middle fingers are gone, as well as a chunk of your thumb.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I can’t take it off ‘till I reach the medics,” you whisper back, turning away from him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
But he doesn’t leave. He stays by your side, silently. He rides with you all the way to the scout headquarters, silently. He walks with you to the medics, without a single word.
The medics take one look at you, and, having heard that you were coming in, usher you into a private room.
There are three medics with you, which means they consider your injury a serious one.
The lead medic closes the door, and then turns to you with a pitiful smile. “Let’s take a look, alright captain?”
You cradle your hand closer to your chest. You feel like a child, not wanting to accept what’s happened. But it’s… your hand… this is forever.
Levi gently touches your arm. “You don’t have to look.”
You can’t remember the last time Levi was so soft with you. You’ve been with him for years by now, but he’s just not a soft person.
Nevertheless, he pulls your face against his shoulder, stroking your hair. He carefully pulls your wrapped hand away from you, holding it out for the medics.
You feel it immediately when they start pulling the bandages off, and you bury your face into Levi’s shirt, whimpering.
“You’re alright. They’ve almost got it off,” he murmurs, holding your face against his chest.
The wrapping falls away, and there’s a soft gasp from one of the medics, followed by Levi stiffening.
“Is it bad?” you moan, crying out as someone prods something painful.
“Do you want me to lie?”
“No.”
“It’s not good. But it’s a clean cut, so they’re going to clean it and stitch it up for you. You’ll be fine.”
You fist his shirt. “…Please don’t go.”
He pulls you a little closer. “I won’t. I won’t leave your side.”
The next thing you know, they’ve stuck your hand in alcohol, and you’re screaming.
You tuck your half-hand into your pocket, out of the reporter’s watchful gaze.
“But you two are married, correct?”
Levi nods. “Yes.”
“When were you married?”
You look to Levi, smiling softly. “Well, twice. Once in Paradis, and they don’t acknowledge Paridian marriage licenses here, so we did it all over again a couple years ago.”
“When was the first time?”
Your hand has become a focus for you.
Just as you lay in bed now, holding your two and a half fingers above your head. The stitches have been taken out, leaving you with pinky and ring fingers, two little nubs cut below the first knuckle, and half of a thumb. It’s still healing, but this is pretty much what your hand will look like. Forever. Till the day you finally croak.
The door swings open, and you immediately feel Levi’s cold, calculating gaze. “Are you picking at it again?”
“No,” you roll your eyes. “Just looking. Y’know, at least I still have a ring finger.”
“Why does that matter?” He asks. He takes off his jacket and hangs it up, then sits on the bed beside you and starts on his boots.
“So one day I could wear a wedding ring.”
He pauses. You pause, realizing what just came out of your mouth.
He turns to face you, leaving one boot on and the other half off. “You’re interested in marriage.”
Suddenly your face feels hot. “…Yeah.”
“To me?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s really what you want?”
You nod, chewing your lip.
“Then marry me.” His face stays completely blank.
You sit up slowly, eyes wide. “You— you wanna marry me?”
“You already know that I love you. If you want marriage, it’s only logical that—”
You cut him off by tackling him, sending the both of you tumbling off the bed. Levi twists so that he’ll hit the ground and you’re just land on him, but you have no time to ask if he’s okay between all the kisses you’re showering across his face.
He scoffs. “Enough, woman.”
“You wanna be stuck with me!? Really?!” You grin, sitting up to be straddling his waist.
“I guess so.”
You throw your arms over your head, starting to sing to yourself. “You looooove me, you wanna maaaarry me, I’m gettin’ maaaarried,” you snap to your own little beat, dancing on his waist.
You look down at him, beaming, just to find him watching you with soft gray eyes.
“I love you,” he whispers.
The reporter smiles and nods, then looks over her notes. “Well, I just have one more question, and then I’ll leave you two be.”
Levi looks quite ready to be done, so you speak up. “Just make it quick.”
She nods, looking up at you one last time. “Did everyone else know you two were together?”
You sigh, reaching behind you and pulling your hair out of its ponytail. It’s been a long day, and all you want is to refill your ODM fuel for tomorrow and go to bed.
You approach the supply closet, but pause when you hear voices. You peer in, eyes widening at the sight.
Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, and Bertholdt all crowd around a table, coins in piles. But there are no cards. No game.
“Listen,” Connie says, throwing up his hands. “It’s just gotta be someone in the Survey Corps. There’s no way it’s not!”
“But wouldn’t we know if it was?” Jean adds, rubbing his chin. “There aren’t too many options.”
“Miche?” Mikasa proposes, spinning a coin in her fingers.
“What? No,” Eren scoffs. “Absolutely not. Armin, what do you think?”
Armin lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “I already lost my money on the bet that Captain {Y/N} would stay single. I thought she was the type to not want or need a man.”
Ah. So they’re betting… on my love life!?
“Well, she’s wearing a ring, that’s for sure…” Sasha rubs her chin. “What if it’s Levi?”
There’s a beat of silence.
Everyone in the room erupts into laughter.
“Ha! Her and Levi? When pigs fly!” Eren laughs, banging his fist on the table.
“You’re such an idiot,” Connie grins, shoving Sasha. “I’d say she’s a lesbian before that!”
You smirk and roll your eyes, walking away from the room. You just know that they’re gonna be knocked off their feet when they find out.
“No, no, it took them quite a while to find out,” you laugh, shaking your head. “They couldn’t have guessed it if they’d put all their little brains together — and believe me, they did.”
“So, how did they find out?”
“Alrighty, Armin,” you sigh, running a hand over your head. “Let’s get this transformation done. The area is cleared for miles, so just give me a few minutes to get out of dodge, and you’ll get the smoke signal to go ahead.”
He nods, chewing his lip.
“Hey,” you pat his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”
With that done, you turn, shooting your grappling hooks into a tree and soaring off into the forest.
After a few minutes, you’re damn near in the safe zone.
Near.
And then the sky lights up like a Christmas tree.
As expected, a massive explosion sounds behind you, and your ears immediately start to ring. More concerning, however, is the shrapnel made of trees and dirt and rocks flying your way.
You shriek, turning forward once more and zipping your way through the trees. Except, you have to hold your left sword in a weird way because of your hand, and then a gush of wind hits you and—
The branch you’re swinging from snaps, and you’re sent tumbling to the ground, unable to right yourself.
The grass gets nearer and nearer, and you fumble with your swords. But you won’t make it. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, and accept your fate—
Until you collide with Levi’s chest, and his arms are around you, and you’re zipping towards the safe zone.
“Holy shit,” you wheeze, coughing on stirred up dust. You grip his shoulders, shaking from all of the adrenaline rushing through you.
You’re back in the group with the others in no time, and Levi immediately puts you on the ground. But you don’t get a hug and a ‘thank god you’re alive.’ No, Levi puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes you.
“Are you crazy?” He hisses, gripping your jaw with one hand. “I’ve told you to hold your swords upside down like I do, so this wouldn’t happen. You almost died, and all because of your idiocy—”
“Levi—”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. You cannot go dying on me, you hear me? I will not lose you.”
You bite your lip, putting a hand on his chest. “Levi…”
“You are such a fucking idiot. I cannot believe I married someone who would risk her own life like that. You need to value yourself, damn it! You cannot leave me here alone—”
You shut him up with a kiss, rooting your hand in his hair. He kisses you back without hesitation, his hands flying to your waist.
“You’re not going to lose me,” you murmur, pulling away. “You saved me. You caught me. And I’m confident that you always will.”
His jaw clenches, a muscle feathering, and he opens his mouth, but a voice from the right interrupts whatever he had planned to say.
“Did I, uh… miss a chapter?” Jean asks.
You look over to find almost all of Eren’s friend group standing there, dumbfounded. Hange sits up in a tree, grinning ear to ear, but they’ve known about you two for years.
You grin, shaking your head. “The money goes to Sasha.”
“AND YOU ALL CALLED ME STUPID!” Sasha shrieks, throwing her hands up in the air.
“That’s all I need,” the reporter nods, and closes her notebook, tucking away her pen. “Nice meeting you two, heroes.”
She leaves with a wink, and just in time, because a little refugee boy has approached, hands behind his back.
You give him a soft smile, kneeling to be on his level. “Would you like a lollipop?”
The boy nods, giving a shy smile.
Levi reaches into his box, holding out a blue lollipop. He gives the child his softest smile, and in that smile you see it all.
You see the man that saved your ass more times than you can count. The man who presses a kiss to your temple when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. The man who blushes when you run your hands down his chest. The man who doesn’t give anyone that soft smile of his, except for on very rare occasions.
Your man.
The center of your universe.
The boy takes his lollipop, bows at the waist, and then skitters off with a mumbled ‘thank you.’
You watch him go, and then you turn back, met with Levi, holding out a lollipop to you.
You press a kiss to his scarred knuckles and take it, giving him your own soft smile. “I love you.”
“Yeah, you too, brat,” he chuckles, turning back to the box of candy.
And you remember the nights you spent eating sweets he brought back for you from town.
You remember every night with him.
Because Levi is your world. Your one and only.
And he always will be, from now until the end of time.
@jeannineee be proud of me bitch <3
#fanfiction#aot#levi aot#attack on titan#attack on titan fanfic#attack on titan fanfiction#levi ackerman#captain levi#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#second person#2nd person pov#post war aot#cassiefromhell
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One Way Or Another
A Rafe Cameron Oneshot
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
WC: 16.5k (just for a second, holy fuck. spent all day writing this. from 10 am to 8pm. i am feeling good & feel like i'm on a writer's high. thank you to all of you who made this happen: 62 pages of pure dark fiction)
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
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Summary: Reader's life couldn't be any better. She's working her dream job, living with her best friend, & may have met the one... but none of those things matter when her bestfriend/roommate begins seeing a volatile man from reader's past...
It was Coyote Ugly night at your work, & you made sure to request the night off weeks in advance. There would be nothing to stop you from singing your heart out to the soundtrack of the movie as it played in the bar or dancing on the bar with your friends, not even having your coworkers & boss witnessing it all unfold. Ever since you were a little girl, you wanted to be a bartender all because of the film. It inspired your fashion choices, your music tastes, & most importantly, your attitude.
As soon as you turned 21, you applied to every single bar in your area. And before that, you practiced your cocktail making, just enough to at least get hired. You knew without experience, it was difficult to land a job as a bartender. If you had to accept a position working at a hotel bar or fine dining bar, you’d take it, anything to get the experience, but your long-term goal was to find a bar with the same energy & vibes as your favorite movie. Your wish came true a year later.
The Garage was just that. It was inside an old auto-shop with three large garage doors. During summer nights, those doors would be raised & they led out into the enclosed patio area where a stage had been built for nights when live music would be happening. The owner, as much as you wanted it to be a tough-as-nails woman like Lil in Coyote, was an older man in his 50’s named Rosie. Yes, Rosie. His full name Roosevelt but he had been going by Rosie since he entered the bar business. It was your first favorite thing about him.
Rosie ran a tight-knit crew at The Garage. He was a no-bullshit haver but knew how to have a good time. It was him who trained you behind the bar, switching you up from making prissy, fancy shit & teaching you how to make a real drink, as he said. You loved him. And you loved your family there. Everyone accepted you & welcomed you with open arms & cold beer. It was all you could have ever dreamed for. And now, you were going to live out your ultimate fantasy.
It thankfully didn’t take a whole lot of convincing on your part to get Rosie to agree to a Coyote Ugly night. You advocated for how it would bring in a good crowd, good money, & good times. Moreover, you promised to do all the leg work. You would take it upon yourself to work alongside the social media handler, Rosie’s daughter Angie who worked in the office alongside her father, to get word out & generate interest. A week before the event was supposed to happen, you had a guaranteed 100+ people wanting to attend. There was no RSVP, but just an event page on Facebook, & your work had paid off. The night was happening, & you would be at the center of it all.
At your apartment that night, you got ready for the night. You admired your look in the mirror, scenes from the bar film playing through your mind. You smiled proudly at yourself. You look damn good.
But your night would only be complete if you convinced your best friend, & roommate, to come with. As far as that morning, she was still on the fence. But the time was now. She was either coming or not, & if you had anything to say about it, she would be forced along.
Leaving your room, you skipped down the hallway before turning a corner & entering the living room. Jules’ room was just off the living room, kitty corner from your room on the other side of the apartment. You were grateful for the distance, but only because you both were sexually active women & didn’t need to hear each other get your kicks in.
Jules’ door was open & you swung around the frame, poking your head in.
“Tell me you’re coming!” You hollered, noticing the door to her en suite bathroom was open & the light on, but she was out of sight.
“Uhhh.” Jules laughed awkwardly, “No?”
No? N O ?Well. You wouldn’t be having that.
Entering her room, you marched up to her bathroom entryway, prepared to bribe her into coming, but before you could get a word out, you felt your jaw drop onto the floor.
Jules stood in the center of her bathroom, posing with her hand on her hips & hiding her coy smile behind a lifted shoulder.
“Wow.” You grinned, impressed, “You look fucking hot.”
She was wearing a torn cropped lack crop top, the sleeves & hem shredded, & a mini, mini black leather skirt. To bring the whole look together, she wore a pair of black cowgirl boots & a black cowgirl hat. You giggled at the bolo tie around her neck.
“Do I look like someone not to be fucked with?”
“Hundred percent.”
Jules scrunched her nose cutely, turning to look at herself in the mirror, “Good.”
You joined her in the mirror, double checking your own look. You definitely didn’t look as man-eater as she did but you were still happy with what you wore. The two of you would undoubtedly be some of the hottest women there tonight.
“Ready?” You questioned as you applied some of her lipstick to your mouth.
Jules winked at herself in the mirror, “As I’ll ever be.”
The night was in full swing as you danced among people. Dirrty by Christina Aguilera vibrated the room as you swung your hips & ran your hands along the length of your torso. Never before have you felt more like yourself than you did in that moment. Everywhere you looked there was women in backless tops, leather pants or denim skirts, a plethora of country rock fashion choices, & plenty of good-looking men. The only thing that would make this night better was bringing a stranger home for the night.
Sweat coated your skin as you moved off the dance floor between songs. You had curated the playlist for the night. There was over 150 songs on the queue, all of which were either from the soundtrack or had a similar, fitting feel for the night. You knew that any moment Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard would come on & you were determined to drag Jules onto the bartop with you.
Sliding between the sea of people, you eventually spotted Jules standing at a tall table near the patio entrance. She was facing you but hadn’t noticed you yet as she spoke flirtatiously with the man standing across from her. He had his back to you & was leaning over the table to hear what your roommate was saying. Jules laughed, smacking him gently on his arm. You knew that you wouldn’t be the only one bringing a man home tonight.
As apologetic as you were to break up their conversation though, you had a goal in mind, & no potential suitor for your roommate was going to stop you.
“Jules!” You greeted happily as you jumped towards her, “It’s almost time.”
“Oh, hey, _____.” Jules smiled at you, “_____, this is Rafe.”
But before she had even said his name, you were already looking him over & felt your world slow down at the familiar face standing before you.
It had been a couple years since you last saw Rafe Cameron. You two were in the same grade in high school & attended a lot of the same parties, but you two never spoke to one another. He had a reputation in the halls as a cokehead & was known to snap at a moment’s notice & get into a brawl over the smallest of things. Definitely wasn’t the kind of person you wanted to hangout with. But you had to admit he knew how to throw good parties.
“Rafe, this is my roommate _____.”
Rafe smirked at you before offering his hand, “Nice to meet you.”
You took his hand, ignoring the static shock you received when touching your palms together, “Likewise.”
Jules was about to say more but the opening instrumentals to your most-anticipated song of the night began playing over the speakers.
“Sorry, Rafe. I gotta steal her for a couple minutes.” Before Jules could resist, you began dragging her towards the bar.
“Hey! I was talking to him!”
“Talk to him later, this is way more important.”
Jules then realized what was happening & started shaking her head knowingly, “You’re lucky I fucking adore you.”
“The luckiest.” You smiled back.
The two of you were quick to climb onto the bar where a few other women were already dancing to Pour Some Sugar On Me. Jules & you were naturals at dancing, having many dance nights in your living room. You danced sensually to the song as it blared over the speakers. Your cheeks hurt from smiling as hard as you were, enjoying the ooh’s & awe’s of men & women alike as they cheered all the women on. You spotted a few of your coworkers behind the bar filming you on their phones. You’d be sure to get those videos sent to you before the night was out.
Jules slowly fell to her knees to whip her hair around her as she bumped & grinded the air to the music. You reached behind the bar to grab a pitcher of water & did the honors of pouring water on her as the first chorus blasted. Jules’ dancing & your pouring elicited an eruption of cheers. When the first chorus was over, Jules returned to her feet & the two of you danced seductively against one another. All eyes were on the two of you as you stole the show. Your lifelong dream of being a Coyote was coming true before your own eyes.
The song continued & by the time the final chorus came it was your turn to have everyone cheer for you. Jules’ was handed another pitcher of water & as the famous Pour Some Sugar On Me chorus began, you modeled yourself atop the bar. Your butt was down & your legs extended out the length of the bar. You were facing up, your arms holding you up behind your back, your legs bent at the knees. Then as the titular moment of the song happened, Jules poured the ice cold water over you.
A wave of cheers & enthusiasm erupted throughout the bar. When Jules finished pouring the water, you repositioned yourself to crawl along the length of the bar, catching eyes & stealing hearts. You spotted one man sitting at the bar, his eyes never leaving your own. He was cute, more than cute, he was Kevin O’Donnell cute. Your Coyote Ugly dreams were demanding you to end your performance in his lap.
The man grinned to himself as you swung your legs around to dangle off the bar on either side of him. He leaned back in his seat to stare up at you, a closed smirk across his handsome features. As the song closed, you slid off the bar & into his lap. With no introductions needed, you tangled your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck & brought his mouth to yours, sealing the night with a kiss from a perfect stranger.
His name was Jack. He was new to town. You were happy to be his welcoming committee.
“What you did up there was…” He laughed, raising his brows in knowing.
“I know.” You giggled, nursing your drink.
After your kiss, Jack insisted on buying you a drink & you couldn’t say no. Jules’ hugged you once before returning to her object of desire. You were too distracted by your own man to question her own.
“So, you work here?” Jack asked, looking around the place.
You nodded proudly, taking in the environment, “It’s my second home.”
“I like the energy. Seems fun.”
“It is.” You confirmed, “Couldn’t have asked for a better place to work.”
The two of you talked for a bit longer before you were interrupted. Jules slid in beside you at the table you & Jack were sat at, & her man for the night, the reputable bad boy from your high school, took the spot opposite her. You didn’t miss how his eyes lingered on your face for some time. You frowned internally but ultimately ignored it as you turned to your best friend.
“Are you drunk?” You asked incredulously. It took a lot to get Jules drunk, she was a prime time heavy weight, & she was fine when you saw her only ten minutes ago.
Jules pressed her lips together, smiling knowingly up at you, “Maybe.”
“What the hell did you drink?” You chuckled as she rested her head on your shoulders.
“We took a couple shots at the bar.” Rafe added to the conversation. You flashed your eyes towards him, taking in his appearance.
“You look fine.” You pointed out, yet your heavy weight best friend was growing more drunk by the second.
“I just hide it better.” Rafe smirked. His face was flushed. And after working in the bar industry for the last two years, you did know men’s bodies handled liquor better than women’s. So, you let it go.
“Do you wanna head home?” You shook Jules.
She shrugged but her eyes were fluttering closed.
You felt disappointed but didn’t show it. The night was still young, you had yet to even partake in the karaoke aspect of the night, but Jules wasn’t going to last much longer, chugging water be damned.
“Jack,” you glanced across to him, “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to get her home.”
“I understand.” He nodded, pulling out his phone, “Let me at least get your number. Maybe you can give me a tour of town.”
You smiled at that, sharing your number to him out loud. Once he entered it into his phone, you told him you looked forward to his call & began to get out of your seat. But as you did, your world began to spin.
“Whoa.” You mumbled, catching yourself on the table. You must’ve had more to drink than you thought.
“You alright?” Jack asked, rising to his full height to help stabilize you.
You nodded but you weren’t, “I’m a lightweight. Guess I drank more than I thought I had.”
Jack grabbed your jacket, “Do I need to order you a Lyft?”
You shook the offer away. But you couldn’t drive. Jules didn’t have a car so it was you who got the two of you there tonight. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, wondering if maybe you could convince one of your coworkers to give you a ride but they were still slammed. The bar wouldn’t die down for a couple more hours.
“I’m sorry, Jack. Would it be shitty of me to ask you to drive my drunk ass & my roommate’s drunk ass home?”
Jack chuckled at that but ultimately shook his head no, “I don’t have a car. Don’t really need one here, ya know.”
You nodded at that. It was true.
“Fuck.” You moaned. Your head was growing dizzier by the second.
Most times you would bite the bullet & cough up the money to pay for an expensive Lyft, but with rent due in two days, you didn’t have the funds. And you didn’t work tonight so no tips would help.
“I can drive you.” A voice sounded from the other end of the table. Both you & Jack looked towards Rafe as he pulled out his keys.
“I thought you had a lot to drink, too?” Jack questioned. You were relieved he wasn’t too trusting of Rafe immediately either.
“Not really.” Rafe returned, his eyes on you though, “You want the ride or not? She looks like she’s gonna be sick any minute.”
At that statement, you bent over to look at Jules. He was right. Her skin was looking ashen & she was frowning in her sleep. The last you wanted to worry about was her puking before you got her to her bed with a bowl on the floor.
“Okay.” You nodded, accepting your jacket from Jack’s hands. “Thanks.”
Jack helped you gather the rest of yours & Jules’ things. He attempted to help you carry her outside but your legs were beginning to grow weaker, your strength quickly dissipating.
“I got it.” Jack reassured you as he lifted Jules into his arms cradle style.
“Hey, uh.” Jack looked towards Rafe.
“Rafe.” He shared his name. Jack nodded then gestured to where you stood leaning against the wall, “Wanna help her?”
You raised your head at that. Rafe approached you, offering his hand.
“I got it.” You faked, forcing yourself to stand up. Rafe made an unimpressed face but you ignored it. Just outside the door to the parking lot though you felt your knees buckle. Before you could hit the ground, you felt a strong & firm arm catch you around the waist.
“Just lean on me. My truck’s right there.”
As much as you didn’t want Rafe’s help, still unsure why you were feeling hostile towards him, you knew you needed to. Accepting his help, you leaned into his side as he kept you on your feet. A truck a few feet away beeped & the headlights flashed. Jack was ahead the two of you, waiting for Rafe to help him get Jules’ into the back seat.
Rafe first brought you to the passenger side, helping you up into the cab. Your movements were slow & languid, like you were already half asleep. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind enough to fasten your belt, but before you could, Rafe reached across your front to secure the protective strap.
“Thanks.” You mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
“No problem.” He shut your door gently before joining Jack on the other side. You vaguely listened as the two men got Jules into the backseat before the door shut.
By the time they finished, Rafe was quick to hop into the driver’s seat. You were holding your head in your hands, trying to keep your vision from swimming. Fuck, you really needed to keep better track of your drinking, but you were just having too much fun.
The door to your side opened & Jack was there, “You gonna be okay?”
You hummed in response, not trusting yourself to speak, worried that your speech would be slurred.
“Okay. Text me when you make it home safely. I’ll text you right now.”
All you could manage was to give him a thumbs up.
“Alright.” Jack nodded then he looked towards Rafe, “Make sure they get home safe, man.”
“Yup.” The engine roared to life as he pressed a button on the dashboard.
“I’ll see you later, _____.”
You wanted to return the parting but Jack closed the door. The truck jostled beneath you as Rafe drove through the gravel lot.
“What’s your address?” Rafe asked.
Pulling out your phone, you languidly types in your address into the maps app. You hit ‘start’ & handed your phone to Rafe.
The ride was mostly silent until the final couple minutes of it.
“I remember you, ya know.” Rafe commented. You forced your eyes open at that. It wasn’t that you thought he would remember you or not, but you didn’t want to have one of those walk-down-memory-lane conversations with someone you knew was problematic in high school. Times changed everyone, you supposed. You weren’t always the confident & extroverted woman you were today. Perhaps Rafe had changed, too.
“Yeah?” You responded. Thankfully, you didn’t sound as drunk as you felt.
“Yeah, you dated that Junior kid for a while.”
“Mm.” You had forgotten about Junior. You weren’t one of those people that considered high school boyfriends as real relationships. After all, the two of you only dated for two months your senior year.
“What I remember most is your guys’ dramatic breakup at Phil’s prom after-party.”
You frowned at that. That whole night was a messy blur in your memory. You remembered prom fine but the after-party was another story. You had always been a lightweight, but as you thought on it, you vaguely remembered catching Junior dancing with another girl that night.
The memory resulted in a light chuckle from you, “Oh, yeah. Well…he was an asshole.”
Rafe shared in your chuckle, nodding in agreement, “Yeah, he was.”
“So, Jack, huh?”
His sudden change in conversation made you finally look at him in the dark. The streetlights you passed under were doing little to light his face.
“Jack?”
“Think he’ll be any better than Junior?” Rafe questioned.
What did that even matter?
Searching for the right words through your addled brain proved difficult, but you eventually found them, “I don’t know… not like I’m going to date him seriously.”
“No?” Rafe flicked his eyes to yours, “Why not?”
Okay, you were not going to have this conversation with Rafe of all people.
Ignoring his question, you were relieved when Rafe pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex. But the night wasn’t quite over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get Jules upstairs & into your apartment on your own.
But as if he was reading your mind, Rafe switched the truck off & unbuckled his belt. He hopped out & you watched through the windshield as he rounded to your side. When he opened the door, you moved to get out but was stopped by the belt you still wore. Oh, right.
Rafe beat you to it though, reaching around your front for a second time to release the buckle. You felt a chill riddle up your spine when his thumb grazed against your front, just above the top of your shorts. Rafe then placed a hand on your hip & guided you out of the truck. Even though it wasn’t a lifted truck, it sure felt like it as Rafe helped you climb out & down.
“Good?”
You nodded in response, wanting to keep your words few & far between.
Next, you followed him around to the other side of the truck. You noticed that you weren’t as drunk as you were when you left. Your head was still pounding & your vision was still swimming, but at least you could hold yourself up now.
Rafe swung open the door to the back & began gently pulling out Jules. She mumbled in her drunken sleep as he slung her over his shoulder.
“If you want to lead the way, I can carry her.”
“Thanks.” You sighed, desperate to get inside & crash into your bed.
Inside the secure building, you used your key fob to alert the elevator of your presence. When the three of you loaded on, you pressed the lit up button for 5.
“Thank god for elevators, right.” Rafe joked as he shifted Jules to piggyback him. Fortunately, she hung on.
Once you reached your floor, you sped walked ahead to your door & swung it open. Rafe passed you by.
“Take a right at the corner & her bedroom is at the end, off the living room.”
Rafe followed your directions in the dark. You turned on the lights behind him as he went, hoping he didn’t bump into anything or accidentally drop Jules because of it. He managed to swing her door open & enter her room, you were right behind them.
Rafe turned to face you before bending his knees to lower Jules closer to the bed. Once she was close enough, Rafe let her go. Jules groaned again at the sudden drop, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. You entered her bathroom to dampen one of her hand towels.
When you re-entered her room, you paused, watching silently as Rafe tucked Jules’ legs under the covers of her bed. He glanced up, likely having feeling you watching him, & shrugged.
“I can’t sleep without a blanket of some sort when I’m drunk.”
You nodded, mustering a smile. Approaching Jules, Rafe moved out of the way. You placed the damp rag on her forehead, hoping it’d help her feel less sick if she did end up throwing up in the middle of the night.
“Would you mind doing me a favor?” You asked Rafe, glancing at him over your shoulder.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Above the fridge in the kitchen are big bowls. Can you bring one?”
Rafe nodded & left the room. You listened intently until you heard him in the kitchen.
“Grab a glass of water, too, please!” You hollered.
The faucet began running in the distance, so you took the time to lift Jules’ sheets. You overlooked her body, ensuring that Rafe didn’t do any weird shit when you were in the bathroom. But nothing looked out of place. Even her cowgirl boots were still on. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you quickly removed them from her feet before tucking her legs back under the covers.
It wasn’t that you were a man-hater, you loved men. But recalling all the rumors surrounding Rafe in high school, & how even despite that he was a stranger, you didn’t want to take any chances. So far he had been helpful & friendly enough so you didn’t want to be quick to stuff him into a box labeled ‘creep’, but you’d certainly keep your eye on him.
You heard his footfalls coming nearer so you stood up. When he entered the room again, he carried a large bowl in one hand & a glass of water in the other.
“Thank you.” You offered him a small smile when taking the objects from him.
Once you got Jules settled, you turned to face him, gesturing for the two of you to leave the room. You closed the door quietly behind you. In the living room, you eyed the kitchen on the opposite end of the space.
“Did you want anything to drink? It’s the least I can do for helping.”
Rafe sighed, contemplating your offer, “An energy drink if you got it. Feel like I’m gonna fall asleep behind the wheel if I keep going like this.”
“I don’t have any of that, but I can make you a coffee?”
“Yeah, sure, thanks.”
You nodded, walking towards your kitchen. Rafe followed behind you, taking a seat at your small two person table in the corner. You felt him watching you as you pulled out the coffee grounds & began putting them into the coffee maker.
“Thank you again.” You repeated, tossing him a look over your shoulder, “For helping.”
“No problem.” He repeated, “Again.”
You laughed quietly & softly at that. Once the coffee began brewing, you pulled out two mugs & left them by the pot. Then you turned back to face him.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
You felt your brows crease, “What do you mean?”
“Well, you couldn’t walk at the bar, but now you seem totally fine.”
“Oh.” You straightened up that, also then realizing how much better you were beginning to feel, “Better, yeah. Must’ve just been a wave.”
Rafe nodded at that but said nothing.
“So.” you began, shrugging your shoulders. Small talk wasn’t your forte. It made you feel awkward.
“So…” Rafe repeated.
The two of you shared an uncomfortable laugh.
“You looked really hot on the bar tonight.” His sudden & unsolicited comment surprised you. There was no hiding the shock on your face.
“What?” You laughed, really believing you misheard him.
“You heard me.” He smirked at you, his eyes trailing the length of you. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head, “Thanks? I guess.”
Fortunately, the coffee pot finished & you were able to distract yourself with pouring the two of you a mug of coffee. You brought Rafe’s his before returning to the fridge to pull out some French vanilla creamer.
“Want some?” You shook the carton. Rafe waved his hand in dismissal.
After flavoring your coffee, you joined him at the table.
“So, what have you been up to since high school?” You finally asked, forcing yourself to partake in a dreaded topic of conversation.
“Not a whole lot.” Rafe blew out air, “Working for my dad mostly.”
“And what’s that?” You blew on your coffee before taking a sip.
“Business. Real estate development. That sorta shit.”
You nodded, “That’s good money though, right? You rolling in dough?”
“Why? Want me to take you out on a date?”
He was teasing but you still laughed uncomfortably, “Not exactly.”
“No? Not the dating type?”
Shrugging, you made a face that confirmed his suspicions, “Not really, no.”
“Why’s that?”
You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “No reason, really. Just haven’t met the right person, I guess.”
“Having too much fun stealing & breaking hearts at the bar?” Rafe smirked.
You rolled your eyes, “Something like that.”
“You stole mine. Watching you up there…”
The way he looked at you made your skin erupt with goosebumps. You bit your lip & Rafe’s eyes flicked to the movement. You shook your head, unable to hide your embarrassed smile, “You’ve always been a flirt, ya know?”
Rafe’s eyes widened at that, “What does that mean?”
You shook your finger at him, “We may not have talked in high school but you had a reputation. You were ‘the bad boy’. Breaking hearts and faces.”
Rafe scoffed at that but chuckled nonetheless, “I won’t confirm nor deny.”
A silly giggle left you but you immediately reeled it in the second you heard it. Were you…flirting with Rafe Cameron? Jesus. If someone had told you earlier that day that you’d end your night flirting with Rafe Cameron in your own apartment you’d say bullshit. It was funny though sometimes how the world brought people in & out of your life.
“Oh, c’mon.” You shook your head, “All the girls wanted to date you & all the guys wanted to either be you or beat you.”
Rafe laughed at that, nodding in agreement, “Maybe.”
You lowered your eyes, memories of high school passing you by.
“What about you?”
You raised your eyes to meet his, “What about me, what?”
“Did you want to date me?”
There was no helping the sudden burst of laughter at his question. You bit your lip again, shaking your head, “Actually, no. If anything, I was scared of you.”
Rafe’s eyes glinted playfully, leaning across the table, “That so?”
“Mm.” You nodded, “I saw a few of your fights. You’re pretty hot-headed, ya know. All I wanted to do was not piss you off.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried.” Rafe eyes lingered to your lips.
A part of you was undeniably enjoying his apparent attraction to you. You didn’t care if it was the alcohol or whatever it was that was sexually charging the energy in the room. After all, you did want to take a man home tonight. Rafe isn’t who you had in mind, especially since he started out as Jules’, but Jules’ was lax. If you did end up sleeping with Rafe, she wouldn’t care. All she’d be interested in was how he was in bed. And now, you couldn’t help but wonder yourself.
Inhaling sharply, you pushed your coffee to the side so you could place your elbows on the table, leaning forward so there was only a few inches between you.
“But I’m sure I can make you happy.” You flirted suggestively.
“I think you can, too.” Rafe stared at you through hooded eyes. Yeah. He wanted you, too.
That being the only confirmation you needed, you rose from your seat, offering your hand to Rafe, “C’mon then. Let’s go to bed.”
Rafe grinned up at you with that. Then he rose to his full height, but he ignored your hand. He towered over you, your head only reaching his shoulders. Before you could say or do anything, Rafe suddenly had his arms around your butt, lifting you until you were forced to wrap your legs around his middle.
“Let’s.”
A week passed before you saw Rafe again. And you honestly never expected to see him again. After the night you two spent together rolling around in your sheets, you passed out. When you woke the next morning, Rafe was gone. It wasn’t the first time, & likely wouldn’t be the last, that one of your hook-ups escaped into the night, but you’d be lying if you thought Rafe would be different since you two went to high school. But alas, Rafe only proved to be like most men. You weren’t miffed though. You moved on fast.
As far Jules, her reaction to learning about you two hooking up wasn’t what you quite expected. She laughed it off at first but you could see that she felt something about it. You eventually got it out of her. She said that she actually liked Rafe. Unlike most of her conquests, she felt a natural draw to him & had thought that perhaps Rafe could be someone she’d date. It all surprised you.
Jules, of course, didn’t blame you whatsoever since she had only met Rafe that night, & after you explained your history, or lack thereof, with him, she understood. But you could tell that she was disheartened to not get to know him more. But as the week passed, she got back into her usual good spirits.
As for you, you heard from Jack a day after you met him. He started out giving you a hard time for not letting him know you made it back home safely that night, & you thought it best to lie & say that you passed out as soon as you got into bed rather than telling me the truth. The two of you texted for the whole day & before you knew it you had scheduled a date.
The date itself was fun. You took Jack to some blacklight mini golf then the two of you had a couple beers at one of your favorite bars. The night ended with a hot make-out session in your car. After that, you two saw each other practically every day. Tonight would be no different. In fact, Jules was going out to the bars & you were staying in, wanting Jack to come spend the night with you. It wasn’t like you to wait to have sex with someone you were interested, so Jack was a rare case.
But with Jules being out of the apartment for most of the night, you thought it an opportune time to have him over & you two could be as loud as you wanted.
It was almost nine at night when Jules finally left. Jack was supposed to be there around that time, as well. But before she left, she poked her head into your room. You did a little spin for her as she tried to pick her jaw off the floor.
“Damn, _____. Jack isn’t gonna know what hit him.”
You smiled happily at that, admiring your lingerie in your full length mirror.
“I hope so.” Jack was quickly becoming your Rafe. By that, you meant that you enjoyed his company beyond more than just the sexual tension. He made you laugh, carried a conversation, showed interest in your life but also wasn’t afraid to share details of his own. Plus, he was hot as fuck. The more you hung out with him the more he reminded you of a young James Franco. And Franco was always cute to you.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something really quick.” Jules revealed, stepping further into your room.
You tossed her a confused but wary look, “…Okay. Everything alright?”
“Yeah, at least, I hope so.” She laughed sheepishly, “I’m going to bars tonight, as you know, but…I’m not going alone.”
You reeled back at that, but were smiling nonetheless, “Okay, babe, if it’s a date you know we trade info incase the guys are creeps.”
“Yeah, I know.” She sighed, avoiding your eyes, “That’s kind of why I didn’t say anything to begin with. You already know him…”
Done admiring yourself in the mirror, you sat on your bed, staring up at her in waiting.
Jules moved forward to join you on your bed, “It’s with Rafe.”
Oh.
The revelation wasn’t what you expected but you nodded hesitantly, “Okay… that’s okay?”
“I don’t know, is it? We’ve never really navigated these waters before.”
You rolled your eyes at that, “Oh, my god, Jules, it’s okay! I have no claims to him. If you want to see him then see him.”
She frowned at that, not entirely buying what you were selling, “Are you sure? I know we have a pretty lax friendship, but it’s not weird. I’ll admit, I did feel weird after you told me you guys hooked up last weekend.”
A pang of guilt hit your chest, but you dismissed it with a forced smile. You had no interest in Rafe. He was a decent fuck, but that’s all he was. If Jules was serious about him, the last you wanted to do was have her thinking you were standing in her way.
“God, I’m sorry. I’m such a slut sometimes.”
Jules giggled at that but shook her head, “That’s not what I’m saying. I just want to make sure that you & I will be okay. And, obviously, if it gets weird or messy having Rafe around then I won’t mind kicking him to the curb.”
You laughed at that, “It won’t come to that. Besides, I have my own man coming over tonight. Rafe…feels like it was ages ago at this point.”
“Okay.” Jules grinned, her dimples appearing. You could tell she was really excited about this date. You only hoped that Rafe didn’t disappear in the middle of the night on her like he did you.
“Okay!” You exclaimed, standing up. Jules stood with you. You hugged her, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll make sure Jack & I are all finished by the time you get home.”
“No worries.” Jules pulled away, grinning at you, “If we do end up wanting to hook-up I’m going to try to get it done at his place, that way you two can be alone all night.”
“Well, thanks, I appreciate it.” You smiled, letting her go, “But if you do go there, you know to text me where the address is.”
“Yes, mom.” Jules rolled her eyes.
With that, you exited your room & walked with her to the door. Jack would be there any minute & you still wanted light some incense & candles.
You were unlatching the door & swinging it open, preparing to wave Jules off but a yelp escaped you at the tall, looming presence just on the other side.
“Rafe!” Jules shrieked. The both of you were not expecting him on the other side, let alone anyone.
Rafe’s eyes danced amusingly between the two of you as you both recovered from the jump scare but when his eyes stopped on you, staring at your chest, you glanced down. It was then that you realized you were still only wearing your lingerie.
“Oh, fuck.” You muttered, quickly standing just behind the door out of sight as you tied the thigh length silk robe around your body. Jules realized what was happening by the time you finished & glanced up.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” You laughed sheepishly as Jules stepped out.
Rafe said nothing but was staring at you like he was trying not to respond.
“Oh, jesus, let’s just get this over with.” Jules finally spit out, “You guys fucked. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Right?” She looked at you to which you nodded quickly.
“Right?” She focused on Rafe. He only mustered an awkward smirk.
“Great. Now that that’s over with, _____...” Jules eyed you, “Have fun with Jack. I’ll see you either tonight or tomorrow.”
At the mention of Jack’s name, you felt Rafe’s eyes flash to yours in curiosity. You blatantly ignored his wonderous gaze & waved at Jules, “Bye, have fuuun!”
Then you hurriedly slammed the door. As much as you loved Jules for her direct nature, you sorely wished she hadn’t mentioned the two of you hooking up while you were standing there in practically nothing. But, fortunately the moment was over & you could focus on the task at hand: Jack.
It was nearly three in the morning when you tip-toed into the kitchen to heat yourself up some leftovers. Jack had passed out. You had tired him out. You had always considered your endurance your best quality in the bedroom. It wasn’t often when a man could keep up with you. Jack was no exception, but he was fun, nonetheless. The sex was rushed at first. The second he saw you he couldn’t keep his hands off you. The after having sex that lasted for roughly fifteen minutes, you two relaxed & laughed about it.
Then you ordered the two of you some food & while waiting for the food to come the two of you hung out on the couch watching an episode of The Boys. After eating & another episode, Jack gathered you in his arms & carried you into your room for second round. The second round was a lot more sensual. Now that the two of you had had sex in a hurry, you two were able to slow down & really learn each other’s bodies. You were winded by the time that session ended. You fell asleep as he scratched your back & when you woke up an hour later, he was still awake watching videos on his phone. You knocked his phone out of the way & straddled his lap. The third time was even more mind-blowing than the first two—being the perfect mixture of animalistic & intimate.
After that, it was Jack’s turn to pass out. He had commented on your skills in bed & you kicked your feet about it. It wasn’t that you felt validated by hearing a man’s thoughts about what you could do but you also wouldn’t deny how good it still felt to hear.
You tried sleeping yourself, getting only ten or so minutes when your stomach growled you awake. There would be no good night’s rest until you ate. So, that’s when you decided to go heat up some leftovers from yours & Jack’s order.
Your apartment was quiet save for the metallic hum of the microwave. You stared at Jules’ closed bedroom door, & it was only then that you realized you hadn’t checked your phone whatsoever since Jack arrived. There was still a minute left on the microwave. You decided you’d go snatch your phone from your room really quickly then give Jules a call while you ate. But just as you entered the hallway, you heard the familiar sound of her keys in the door.
As quietly as you possibly could, you backed up back into the living room then raced across the room to the kitchen, trying to look as natural as possible. But as you listened for Jules’ footsteps, you picked up on another.
She wasn’t alone.
You glanced down. You were in your robe but only your robe. Jack made quick work of discarding your matching bra & underwear. There was a throw blanket on the back of the couch. You made to move towards it, hoping to get it wrapped around you since the robe did little to really cover you, but just as you did, two figures appeared on the other end of the room.
“Jules?” You frowned. She was slumped against Rafe.
Your eyes flashed to his, your state of dress forgotten, “What the hell happened?”
“Yeah, I don’t think she’s much of a heavyweight anymore. She was falling asleep at the bar.”
Shaking your head, you approached the two of them. Rafe still held her up as you patted her cheeks, “Jules, babe, wake up.”
But she only moaned & swatted your hand away, “Sleepy.”
“Okay, okay.” You couldn’t help the glare you threw at Rafe. Whether or not it was his fault, she had only gotten this drunk in the last week while in his presence. You hoped it was just a coincidence but you wouldn’t settle on it quite yet.
“Can you get some water, I got it from here.” You told Rafe before slipping her into your arms. Jules managed to use her feet to assist you in assisting her as you brought her back to her bed. Jules sighed happily at the sight of her bed before throwing herself down on it.
You knelt beside the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Did you drink a lot again?”
“Mmm. Probably.”
You sucked on your lip, “Jules, you can’t be drinking like that. You gotta be safe.”
“Safe…very safe.” She mumbled, turning her head away from you as she curled into herself.
The air in the room shifted as Rafe entered behind you. You stood up, taking the glass of water from him none-too-gently & putting it on her nightstand.
“You can leave.” You told him without looking at him, “Thanks for getting her home.”
Rafe scoffed behind you but said nothing. You listened as you heard his steps leave the room. Releasing a breath of air, you stared at your best friend as she slept soundlessly.
“Jules…” You whispered to no one. Taking her shoes off, you threw one of her loose blankets over her & switched her light off. You’d be talking with her in the morning. You had to make sure that her getting so drunk was her doing & not Rafe’s.
A muffled gasp escaped you as you closed her door, not expecting to see Rafe leaning against the wall just on the other side.
You had your hand over your mouth to keep from waking Jules or Jack, but you glared hotly at Rafe over your hand.
Closing Jules door, you stepped closer to him, hissing, “I told you to leave.”
Rafe frowned, “Okay, sorry. I thought you just meant the room.”
“You knew exactly what I meant.”
You turned away from him, quietly stomping towards the kitchen. Rafe followed behind you.
“What’s your problem? I thought you’d thank me.”
“And I did.” You bit back. You were struggling to contain your anger. You had no proof that Rafe actually did anything, after all, he was helpful just last weekend & brought Jules back home tonight, but it still didn’t sit well with you. And your mom always taught you to trust your gut.
“So why the hostile attitude? Did I do something wrong?”
Inhaling sharply, you yanked open the microwave door. The food was steaming. But you had lost your appetite.
“No.” You replied shortly, uncaring if you sounded convincing or not.
You touched the plate but as you did, you hissed in pain. You were too caught up in your frustrations to remember to grab the plate of food with a hand towel.
“You okay?” Rafe moved closer, peering down at you as you stuck your thumb in your mouth, sucking on it.
You grunted in response. But Rafe just stared at you in disbelief.
“If you run it under cold water it’ll help better.” He told you, his voice flat.
“I know that.”
Instead of approaching you, he backed up to the sink, flicking the faucet handle. Then he gestured to the sink, “Well.”
Biting your lip in mild irritation, you neared the sink & stuck your thumb under the water. It wouldn’t burn, not visibly anyway, but it still hurt like a bitch. The cool water helped though.
As the water cooled the sensation of your pulsing thumb, so did your anger. Shaking your head, you finally looked at Rafe over your shoulder, “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping her home.”
“You’re welcome.” He returned, but the nicety has left his voice. He was as irritated as you had been.
“It’s just, she doesn’t get drunk like this.” You told him, “I mean, she does! But it takes a lot. Like a lot, a lot. So, seeing her get this drunk twice in one week, just has me concerned.”
“Well, I was there, & I’m telling you, she didn’t drink a lot. I don’t know, obviously, what her ‘a lot’ is, but it wasn’t a lot to me. A beer, three cocktails, & two shots.”
You thought on it. That was still excessive, at least in your opinion. Jules could normally handle a bit more than that but perhaps Rafe was right. Maybe her tolerance was just changing for some reason all of a sudden.
“Guess it makes sense.” You mumbled. Your thumb felt better at that point so you turned the faucet off.
“So, what’s a lot to you?” You asked him, wanting to shift the negative energy between the two of you.
Rafe glanced at you in momentary confusion before shrugging, “More than that.”
“Guess that makes sense, too.” You chuckled softly, “You were a big partier in high school.”
Finally, Rafe’s stone expression cracked as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, “Yeah, true.”
The room was silent for a beat until your stomach growled. Your appetite had returned. Turning your back on Rafe, you went to the microwave & tapped the plate, testing the heat. It was grabbable now. You removed your food from the appliance then took your plate to the table. Rafe watched you silently before slowly approaching you.
“So, you & Jack, huh?”
“Hmm?” You flicked your eyes to his, before realizing what he had asked, “Oh, uh, yeah.”
Rafe nodded, slowly dragging out the chair opposite you before sitting down.
“And you & Jules.” You added, not wanting you or Jack to be the focus at that point in time.
“Mhmm.” Rafe pursed his lips, cocking his head as he peered at you, “And you & me.”
You scrunched your nose in discomfort, but offered an awkward smile nonetheless, “Yup.”
“Does Jack know?” His question surprised you.
You glanced away to cut into your enchilada, blowing on it, then placing it in your mouth. You chewed, staring back at Rafe. Then you shrugged.
“I take that as a ‘no’.”
“Well, it’s not like we’re together, him & I. He doesn’t need to know about my hook-ups. I don’t ask about his.”
“But you want to date him.” It wasn’t a question but you still treated it as such.
“Um, no? I don’t know. Why do you ask?” You took another bite, a lump forming in your throat at Rafe’s invasive questions.
“Ah, well, Jules was saying that she thought you really liked this Jack guy, more than normal. Said you guys have been seeing each other pretty much everyday since last weekend.” For some odd reason, you felt like you were being interrogated, like a parent trying to get to know their teen daughter’s boyfriend before ultimately deciding that they weren’t good enough for her.
You shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. But, same could be said about you & Jules.”
Rafe raised his brows at that, “Yeah?”
You nodded, “She almost lied to me tonight. Didn’t tell me who she was seeing. She’s never done that before. Plus, she admitted as much that she liked you more than just for hooking up.”
“Hmm.” He looked away, deep in thought.
“How does that make you feel?” It was your turn to interrogate him.
“Not a lot.” Rafe returned quickly. His cold response had your earlier anger become lightly reignited.
“And that means…?”
Rafe leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he gazed at you, “She’s nice, hot, fun. But…she’s not you.”
The sound of your fork clattering against the plate as it slipped from your fingers made you jump slightly. Your body felt tense at Rafe’s confession. But you had to play it off. Quickly snatching the fork back up, you brushed off his comment with a sheepish chuckle, “Funny.”
But Rafe didn’t share in your amusement. His unwavering stare was only evidence of his seriousness.
“What are you trying to say, Rafe?”
He sighed, his eyes dropping to the opening of your robe. You glanced down & quickly snatched the fabric closer to your chest. He smirked at that.
“I’m saying that I know you’re wearing nothing under that & I want to see what you’re trying to hide from me.”
You sputtered in shock, staring at him wide-eyed, “Are you fucking serious?”
Rafe raised his eyes to yours, “Deadly.”
“Alright, okay.” You stood up, your half-eaten food forgotten on the table, “I don’t know what the hell you think—’
But Rafe stood too, quickly invading your space as you stood there attempting to talk him down. He pressed his chest against you & you didn’t have time to create space before he gripped one of your hips. A surprised hiss escaped your lips at his abrupt manhandling.
“I think that dumbass in there can’t please you like I can.” Rafe spoke lowly, his voice even but firm.
You swallowed, putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to push yourself away from him, but Rafe was quick to snatch both your wrists in his other hand.
“What are you doing?” Panic flooded you. If Rafe was fucking with you, you weren’t finding it very funny.
“I told you.” Rafe then quickly yanked on the ties of your robe & your robe fell open.
You gasped as cool air suddenly brushed over your exposed front. You instinctively made to cover yourself help but Rafe still held your wrists in his hand. You were breathing heavily, watching in a daze as Rafe’s eyes darkened, staring at your body.
Then, just as quickly as it happened, Rafe looked back up at you & smirked. Then he let you go.
“Have a good night.”
Like whiplash, Rafe was there one second then gone the next. You stood there in the center of your kitchen staring into the direction of the hallway where Rafe disappeared to. The front door to your apartment closed in the distance & you finally released a breath of air you had been holding.
Then everything that just occurred finally hit you.
“What. The. Fuck.”
The next couple months were weird, to say the least. After Rafe revealed yourself to him he was around way too much. He & Jules began spending a lot of time together & before you knew it, they were dating. DATING.
You sat on what he had done for a couple days before you finally told her about it. Or least, a little bit about it.
First, you started by asking her if she was really serious about Rafe, like had real feelings for him. When she admitted that she did, you felt torn on telling her the whole truth or just a version of the truth. You eventually settled on just telling her variation of it.
What you ended up telling her was that he came onto you again but you had rejected him & then he left. That was basically what happened, but you didn’t mention him undoing your robe, & you weren’t sure why. Rafe was no friend to you so you had no need to protect him, but Jules was your friend, & you had never seen her hung up on someone the way she was about Rafe.
You had seen Rafe multiple times in the window between his harassment of you in the kitchen to telling Jules about it, & in that time he never said or tried anything again. He hardly even looked at you. You reminded yourself that he was an asshole in high school & that he likely viewed what he did as just a humiliating prank. But it wasn’t. Had you not already hooked-up with him you likely would’ve told Jules the whole truth, but since Rafe had already seen you naked & was just pulling one of those idiotic Alpha moves on you in the kitchen, you figured as long as it never happened again you could deal with seeing him & Jules together all the time.
But it still ate away at you. It bothered you that he had the audacity to not only do that but then move forward & decide to date your best friend. But Jules was happy, more so, she was drinking less. It was the least you could ask for in her questionable relationship with Rafe Cameron.
On the bright side, Jules wasn’t the only one to enter into an official relationship. After a few weeks of hanging out with Jack & having some of the best sex of your life, you & Jack progressed into a relationship. It felt like ages since you last had a boyfriend, but it felt nice. He was quickly becoming one of your favorite people. Even better, he & Jules got along great. She’d often join you guys on the couch when you watched a movie or show or even help out in the kitchen as the two of you made dinner. They were all good times, but they were often soured by the presence of Rafe.
Now that you & Jules were in relationships, there was an ungodly amount of times when all four of you would hangout. It was like double dating all the time. If Jules & Rafe wanted to go out to the bars, they’d always convinces Jack to convince you. And then on nights when you worked, Jack would sometimes come in to see you, & right behind him would be Jules & Rafe. Your apartment with Jules was quickly becoming a home to your respective boyfriends.
Your relationship with Rafe was interesting, too. Though he never made comments or did anything like he did that night in the kitchen, he still always found a reason to talk to you. It was never about anything especially important or engaging, but always just enough to have you two at least carry a conversation for some time.
Jack still never knew about you & Rafe hooking up the night you all met & you wanted to keep it that way. In fact, you made Jules promise that she would tell Rafe to keep his mouth shut because if ever said anything, even eluded to it, you would make sure he’d regret it. And so far, Rafe never peeped a word about it. The only downside to Jack never knowing about your tryst with Rafe was that they too became good friends.
Oftentimes, you’d see them laughing loudly with one another, like slapping each other laughing, & always having each other’s back on nights out if for some reason they came across a belligerent asshole. A small part of you was relieved that everything was seemingly working out, but a majority of you knew everything was too good to be true. It’d only be so long before the other shoe dropped. And what kind of shoe it would be had you constantly on the edge…
But that was the least of your worries as you rushed to get ready. That morning, your mom called you to remind of the charity gala that was being hosted in her name & how you promised to be there. The event had completely slipped your mind. So, all day you were frazzled with that now being your mission. You were forced to call Rosie & explain everything to him, apologizing that it slipped your mind & you would be able to come into work. Fortunately, Rosie said he’d take care of it & that he would see the following night.
After that, you drove to the shopping district hoping you’d find a dress that would be appropriate enough for the gala. These gala’s your mom attended were high class. No ball gowns or anything extravagant like that (though some people did wear stuff like that), but it was definitely an excuse for those in attendance to show off some of the nicer items in their closet. You had none.
You got lucky when you found a dress that you could keep & wear again. It was equally elegant as it was just the right amount of sex appeal. Unfortunately, due to the short notice, Jack would not be able to come with you. You learned early on in your relationship that Jack moved to town to open his own café. It had a rough start but once the warmer months came it became a huge hit so he was spending a lot of his time there to help out. And tonight they were having an open mic night for comedians, poets, musicians. It was their first one so he couldn’t miss it.
You were going to ask Jules next if she wanted to be your date but when you went to her room earlier that day, you could hear her throwing up in the bathroom. She had come down with the flu. So, she was a no go. It bummed you out that you wouldn’t have a date but it was your own fault for completely forgetting about it.
It was thirty minutes before the gala started & you had just finished getting ready. You still had to drive 20 minutes to the venue so you would be cutting it close but at least you’d be on time. Before you left, you sped-walk to Jules’ room to check on her. She was sound asleep in her bed, a humidifier next to her bed billowing warm, wet air. You quicky stepped into the room & kissed your fingers before placing them on her forehead. You couldn’t afford getting sick after bailing on Rosie tonight.
Then, you were out the door.
You recognized the address as being somewhere in the industrial district on the north side of town. That thought made you groan, you hoped they had valet parking.
Traffic was a bitch but you made it with two minutes to spare. Thank you, Valet.
Once you were inside, you sought out your mom. You found her in the middle of greeting guests as they entered the building.
“Oh, honey!” She exclaimed, “I’m so happy you could make it.”
“Of course, Mom. Is there an open bar?” You asked once she pulled away.
Your mom rolled her eyes knowingly, “So much of your father in you. Yes, yes. The venue is up those stairs there, the bar portion is in a separate room across from it.”
“Great, thank you.” You kissed her on the cheek, antsy to at least get a glass of wine in your system.
She waved you off to continue welcoming guests while you went to go retrieve a drink. After you succeeded in getting your wine, you entered the gala. You nodded impressively. There were a few faces you recognized as close friends of your mom’s & forced yourself to make small talk as you mingled your way over to a table by the windows. Once you made it through, you took a moment to yourself to relax. Your whole day had felt rushed & chaotic so you were happy to finally be off your feet with some sort of alcohol before you to keep you going.
The charity event started soon thereafter, & before you knew it, you were enjoying your drink, watching as a couple hundred middle aged rich folk raised their hands for the auction portion. Once the auction was through, the host announced that dinner was served & to help yourselves & to enjoy the night while it was still young. You checked the time on your phone, noting it was only 8 in the evening. Your mom begged you to stay at least until 9 that way she can finish making her rounds then she could focus her time on you. You begrudgingly promised you would.
When she disappeared, you decided to get your glass refilled. You were snaking your way between bodies, aiming for the doors that would lead you to the bar when you abruptly ran into another person.
“Sorry!” You exclaimed, feeling embarrassed for not watching where you were going. But when the person you ran into turned around, the apologetic expression on your face fell.
“Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, huh?” Rafe grinned, clearly not expecting to see you either.
“Fancy.” You deadpanned, turning away to continue on your way. What the hell was he doing there?
Once you made it to the edge of the room though, you felt a slight tug on your elbow, deterring you from your destination. A curse died on your tongue as you glared at Rafe dragging you through a set of glass doors & onto a patio. You didn’t even know there was a patio. Had you, you would’ve hidden out there all night to avoid Rafe,
“What are you doing here?” He asked, admiring your outfit.
“You first.” You battled.
Rafe chuckled but answered, “Networking.”
“For?”
Rafe rolled his eyes, sighing, “My dad’s business?”
You pursed your lips. You supposed it made sense. But Jules hadn’t mentioned it.
“Why isn’t Jules here then?” You knew well enough that she was sick & resting at home, but since she had never mentioned it, you wondered if Rafe had even bothered to mention it to her.
“Because I didn’t ask her.” Rafe responded like it was the most obvious answer in the whole world. But you wouldn’t accept.
“God, you are such an asshole. She’s crazy about you, ya know. And you treat her like crap.”
Rafe bit his lip in though, narrowing his eyes at you, “You sure about that? Pretty sure I actually spoil her. More than she’s worth.”
“Oh, you—” All the possible offensive terms you could think of threatened to spill out but this wasn’t the time or the place, “That’s it. When I get back home, I’m telling her everything.”
You spun on your heel then, prepared to go find your mom & apologize but you had to leave early. You couldn’t stand to be here for a second longer knowing Rafe asshole Cameron was present.
But when you left the patio & entered the hall, where there was conveniently no one was around, Rafe snagged you by the waist before shoving you into a bathroom.
“Rafe, goddamnit!” But Rafe shook you to your core when he pressed your back against the wall & covered your mouth. His hand going to the handle on the door & locking it.
“I’m gonna take my hand off now, think you can shut the fuck up for two seconds?”
You glared at him but nodded once. Rafe removed his hand but only stared at you.
You slapped your hands together, waiting for him to get it over with.
“I don’t know what the fuck you want, _____. You’re so annoyingly confusing. More than most women.”
You frowned at that. What was he talking about?
“You come onto me the night we meet then you suddenly want nothing to do with me. I never asked you out on a date because you said you weren’t interested in dating. I was fine with that, though. I could live with just hooking up. But then come to find out you’re dating Jack, fucking him, too. So, now I look like an idiot because you told me you don’t date. And that’s a lie. So, when I found out & tried coming onto you again that night in your apartment, you rejected me. All for that dumbass in your bed. I mean, what is a guy supposed to think? I’ve been very patient, waiting for you & Jack to get through whatever it is you guys think you’re doing but nope, nope, Jack’s here to stay, Jack’s such a good guy, Jack’s the one.”
All of his words were becoming jumbled together in your brain. You could do nothing but stare at him wide-eyed & in shock.
Rafe was huffing, his lips in an upside down smile as he stared through you, “What do you have to say, huh? Because now, all this time, pretending to be into Jules, I’ve just been trying to get close to you. To show you that I’m who you want. That you regret rejecting me. And you can’t say I haven’t been good because I have been. I don’t touch you, flirt with you, make it obvious that I want to fuck your brains out, that I want to beat Jack to a pulp every single time I see him put his hands on you. It should be me, _____. You know that.”
A surprised but unamused sigh left you. Everything you thought about Rafe was true, but just much worse. He was only dating Jules because of you. Only hanging around because of you. You needed to snuff this man out.
“Rafe…” You licked your lips, struggling to find the words, “I don’t know where, at any point, you got into your head that we were something more than just a spontaneous, convenient hook-up but that’s all it was. Okay? That’s it. There was sexual tension & I acted on it. Simple as that. I mean, you were gone the next morning! We had nothing more than just casual, one-time sex.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed as you spoke.
“And as far as Jack goes, that’s none of your damn business. I meant what I said when I told you I don’t date but things change, & I don’t care how fast they change, I don’t owe you anything. I’m not some fucking prize that you are competing against Jack for, & even if I was, let me tell you, he is by far a better man you will ever be. A real man doesn’t use a woman to get closer to her roommate, to try & make her roommate, I don’t know, fall for him? That’s some psycho sociopathic shit, right there. Okay?! So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done. I would love nothing more than to tell her myself about how much of a piece of shit you are, but she’s my friend. My best friend. And I don’t want to hurt her. So, the least you can do is soften the blow.”
It looked as if he wasn’t listening anymore, his eyes glazing over, but you knew he was. He was hearing every single world.
“Man up.” You stepped forward, “And give her what she deserves.”
His eyes finally shifted back to yours, “Careful what you wish for.”
The look in his eyes sparked a bout of fear within you.
But then Rafe was unlocking the bathroom door & next thing you knew he was gone. Your heart was racing, the interaction an explosion of emotions. But with him gone, you were finally able to relax against the wall. You placed your hand on your chest, willing your heart to slow down. Jesus. This day just wouldn’t give you a break, would it?
Unfortunately, your night never improved. When you got home later that night, you could hear Jules crying in her room. As relieved as you were that Rafe called her, you were still disheartened to hear her sobs from the front door. Stopping by your room first, you kicked off your heels & tossed your keys on the bed. Then you hesitantly walked towards her room. Her door was cracked open.
You were about to enter her room but another’s voice stopped you.
“I’m sorry, Jules.” Rafe.
What the fuck was he doing here?!
Not waiting to get answers from Jules, you slapped her door open, standing angrily in her doorway. Jules & Rafe were on her bed & Rafe was holding her as she cried into his chest.
“What the hell’s going on here?”
Jules looked up then but her solemn face quickly turned to one of anger as she set her eyes on you. She stood up, looking you directly in the eye, “I should be asking you that! I trusted you!”
You stared at her in confusion before glancing at Rafe who sat smugly on the edge of her bed.
“Jules, look, I don’t know what that fuck told you but he’s ly—”
“Lying?!” Jules questioned, her voice growing louder, “Yeah, he said you’d say that. But he told me everything!”
You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at the unapologetic look on Rafe’s face, “And what was that?”
“That you’ve been coming onto him for months!” Jules screeched, “I knew bringing him around was going to be weird but if you still had feelings for him then you should have told me! Now you’re telling him to break up with me so you can have him. I can’t believe you would do that!”
“What?!” You raised your voice, “No, no, that is not what’s happening. He’s the asshole, the creep!”
“Oh, shut up, _____!” Jules glared at you through her angry tears, “He has proof of you saying so!”
You stumbled at that, “Proof? What? What proof, Jules?”
She spun around, snatching a phone that wasn’t hers off the bed before raising it up between the two of you. She clacked on it & then turned the volume up. It was your voice that came out.
So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done.
“Motherfucker…” You whispered in disbelief. But then the recording stopped. Jules played it again.
You shot your eyes between the two of them before settling on Jules, “That’s all he recorded? You don’t think that’s weird, Jules? There’s nothing before, nothing after, it’s all out of context. Yes, I told him to break up with you but so I could have him! He’s a fucking psycho!”
Jules shook her head, chuckling darkly as she tossed the phone back on her bed, “I want you out of this apartment. Tonight. And then I never want to see you again.”
“Jules! No, what? Wait!” But she was shoving you out of her room & before you could get another word out, she slammed her door in your face.
“Rafe, you fucking asshole! Tell her the truth!” You beat against the door but all you could make out on the other side was Jules bitching about you before her room started blaring music.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Rafe had gotten to her. Turned your closest friend against you. Well. Fuck him. He wasn’t going to win. Not that easily. Jules wanted to never see you again, that’s too damn bad. Because you weren’t going anywhere, not as long as Rafe was in her ear feeding her lies.
You walked into work angrily the following night. Your coworkers greeted you but you could only manage a grunt. Jules was far from happy to see you when you came out of your room that morning but you needed to show her that you weren’t going anywhere.
“My name’s on the lease. I pay rent. I’m staying.” You told her to which she sneered at you before grabbing her coffee & disappearing in her room.
Her door was closed but you told her through the door that you would never betray her like that. That the person who was lying to her was Rafe. She never responded, & you never saw her again before you left for work. But you wouldn’t give up.
You threw on your outfit for your shift then left in poor spirits. Working helped you distract yourself from the bullshit of your disastrous home life & potential friend break-up. It was busy & your regulars listened to you as you told a few of them about few details of your dilemma. They all held hope for you & Jules to figure things out. That left you feeling slightly better. But around midnight, an unexpected guest appeared at the far end of the bar. You smiled for the first time in 24 hours but your smile quickly fell at the furious expression on Jack’s face.
“Hey.” You said warily, flipping over a 16oz to pour his usual beer.
“I’m not staying.” Jack told you, his voice hard.
That wasn’t a good sign.
“I just came to tell you that Jules told me everything. The recording, everything.”
“Jack.” You sighed exhaustedly. After last night’s intense fallout, you didn’t think to call Jack & tell him what happened. But you never thought Jules would reach out to him herself.
“Save it.” He held up his hand, “I just wanted to tell you in person.”
Before you could try to defend yourself or even explain a little bit, Jack was out the door. You watched tiredly through the windows as he sped off.
Jack didn’t understand either. He would, but not yet. First, you had to get Jules to know the truth, get Rafe out of the picture, then after all that, you & Jules would tell Jack the truth together. You just had to be strong.
“You alright, kid?” Rosie’s voice sounded behind you.
You pressed your lips together, feeling them shake. You felt like crying but you forced yourself not to. Rafe couldn’t get away with this.
Turning around, your head hung low, you simply nodded to Rosie.
“Why don’t you take a ten. I can man the bar, start closing duties.”
You didn’t have the energy to debate it. You exited the bar & went to sit at the far end. Pulling out your phone, you hoped to see any messages from Jules but there was nothing. You tried calling her but your call went straight to voicemail. She likely blocked you. Good thing you lived down the hallway from her.
Holding your head in your hands, you thought about how you got here. How the fuck did you get here? Everything was fine & then suddenly it wasn’t. You realized you should’ve told Jules about Rafe from the beginning. Told her about how he came onto you in the kitchen that night. If you had, Rafe wouldn’t be in the picture, you & Jules would still be friends, & Jack would be drinking a beer less than 10 feet from you.
“Fucking Rafe…” You muttered out loud.
Could this night get any worse?
Unfortunately yes, yes it could.
You kicked at the tire of your car, frustrated that it suddenly wouldn’t start. Rosie had already left. He closed up The Garage with you & walked with you to your vehicles. But while he started his up & pulled out of the parking lot, you sat behind your wheel staring mindlessly out the windshield. You so desperately just wanted to talk to Jules, to just tell her everything. It had only been 24 hours & all you wanted was your best friend back.
So, when you finally broke out of your thoughts & went to start your car, it only added to your shitty night that the engine sputtered then died.
“Fuuuuuuck!” You screamed, beating your hands against the dashboard. Your hands were throbbing afterwards but you could barely feel it. And if you thought it still couldn’t get any worse, pulling out your phone & finding it dead only proved you wrong.
“’Course.” Tossing your phone back into your bag, you glared at the bar across from you. There was chargers inside, but Rosie had the keys to get in & you had no phone to call him.
Getting out, you locked up your car before rounding to the front. There was no point in checking under the hood, you would have no idea where to look first. You had always said that one day you’d learn car stuff for shit exactly like this, but you had yet to do it. It would be next on your agenda. After getting Jules back.
You glared into the darkness of the road. The Garage was on a long stretch of a two-lane highway. During the day it was used regularly, but as soon as night came, the only reason people were on it was to come to your place of work. There would be no one. It was then that you decided you were going to be forced to walk back home. It was only a mile or so walk, most of it being spent on the highway, but you weren’t stoked about walking down a dark, desolate highway in the middle of the night.
But what choice did you have?
Facing your car once more, you kicked at her tire, “See you in the morning, princess.”
You were only about ten minutes into your walk, your jacket wrapped securely around you as you stomped along the pavement, when you heard an engine in the distance. Now, you weren’t one of those girls who thought to yourself ‘oh, kidnapping wouldn’t happen to me, that’s only in the news’. So, you had no plans to put your thumb out & hitching a ride. Even if it was a nice elderly woman. You had seen too many true crime documentaries. It was better to be distrusting then it was to trust the wrong person.
Unlike Jules, you thought bitterly. But it wasn’t her fault. It was all Rafe’s.
When the engine grew closer, you moved off the highway. There were no streetlights on this stretch of the highway, so the driver wouldn’t spot you until they passed you. It also helped you were wearing darker clothes. Otherwise whoever it was might get some sort of idea. And if they did spot you whether before or after they passed you, you were mentally preparing yourself to launch yourself into the woods & make a run for it.
You glanced over your shoulder as you walked, spotting two headlights in the distance. You hoped they would hurry & pass you by so you could walk freely again without worrying about getting snatched off the road. You already had enough stress on your plate.
The engine grew closer but as it did you could hear begin to slow down.
Great.
Still walking, not wanting to let whoever it was get closer, you spun around expecting to see a middle-aged man giving you a toothy smile. But the lights were so bright you couldn’t make out anything. All you could see was the silhouette of someone sitting in the drivers seat. They didn’t move closer, they didn’t signal for you, they didn’t do anything. Just idled there in the middle of the highway.
“Alright…” You could feel panic begin to grip you. “That’s not a red flag.”
But it didn’t stop you. You just kept walking. And as you did, you heard the truck begin to roll closer. As it did, you moved further off the highway until you were forced to walk on the dirt along the tree line.
You breathing fast at that point. As subtly as you could, you reached into your bag, looking for your taser. You had never had to use it before but you always kept it charged in the off chance you’d need to. And now seemed like it would potentially be that time.
“_____.”
The sound of your name horrified you, but more than that, it was the voice that carried it.
You spun around on your heel, staring wide-eyed as Rafe hung an arm outside his window, his eyes dead set on you.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Need a ride?” He asked, ignoring your question, but there was no sense of wanting to help you in his tone.
“Fuck no.” You spit, glaring hotly at him, “I am walking home. Carry on.”
“I’m heading there anyway.” Rafe smirked, “Booty call. You know how it goes.”
You made a face of disgust. He still had the audacity to talk poorly about Jules even after convincing her that you were the bad guy. But were you surprised? No, no you weren’t.
“Just fuck off, Rafe.” You dismissed him with a flick of your hand before marching ahead. Much to your chagrin, Rafe only followed alongside you in his truck. You made sure to keep a good distance between where you walked & where his door was. If he decided to jump you again like he had at the charity gala the previous night, you wanted a head start into the woods.
“We can talk.” He stated, “Work something out. I can get Jules to forgive you.”
You shook your head in disbelief, running your tongue along your teeth in annoyance. He was just egging you on, wanting to get a rise out of you. Like always.
“C’mon, you know you’re tempted.” His voice grew lower.
“The only thing I’m tempted to do is rip your fucking throat out & shove it up your ass so you can taste your own shit.”
“Well,” Rafe chuckled darkly, “I’d need my throat to taste it, wouldn’t I?”
Stamping your foot against the pavement, you finally stopped to face him again, “God, can you just leave me the fuck alone?! You got Jules, you won, she fucking hates my guts. I’m the bad guy in this story, I get it. Your narrative is working out great for you, Rafe. So if you’re done boasting, please! Leave. Me. Alone.”
He peered at you through heavily hooded eyes, an unimpressed smirk appearing on his face, “I didn’t win, _____. Jules isn’t who I want. You know that.”
His words chilled you to your core. It was then that you were reminded of where you were, or weren’t, which was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Just you & Rafe.
“I just want to walk home, okay?” You felt your voice shake with fear. Rafe smiled then. He heard it, too.
“Ad I’m offering you a ride.”
You felt your eyes begin to water as you stared past him into the cab. If you got in the cab, there was no saying what he would do to you. Your chances were better outside of the truck.
“Rafe—”
“I’m not gonna ask again. Get in the truck, or I’ll fucking make you get in the truck.”
You shook your head, taking a step back. His eyes flashed to the movement before flickering back up to yours. His gaze hardened, “Fine. My way it is.”
Before he could shift his truck into park, you were already diving into the trees & running at a full sprint. It wasn’t a second or two later when you heard Rafe’s door slam shut before the sound of foliage being crushed sounded behind you.
“_____!” Rafe yelled, “Get back here!”
His voice, full of anger & determination, bounced off the trees as you ran past them & further into the woods. You couldn’t see shit in the dark & you could feel your ankles stumbling & whining in discomfort as you tried to keep your feet ahead of you on the uneven earth. Scared tears coated your cheeks as you pumped your legs, begging to any god anywhere to please get you out of there. But no divine intervention intervened.
It was the worst feeling you could imagine when you felt a hand grip the fabric of your jacket & yank you backwards. The wind was knocked out of you when Rafe threw you to the forest floor.
“We coulda worked this out.” Rafe huffed as he stood over you.
You rolled onto your side, desperate for your lungs to open so you could breathe. But Rafe circled around you like a vulture getting ready for the kill. You weren’t sure you’d even get another breath of air before he stole whatever you had left.
“We coulda talked, came to some sort of agreement!” He yelled in frustration, “But you’re just so fucking stubborn, so fucking defiant. You like that with Jack?”
Rafe laughed darkly to himself, “Something tells me you’re not. You’re probably the most perfect woman with him.”
You gasped sharply, painfully, when your lungs finally opened. Then you were coughing. But as you were coughing, you were searching for your bag in the dark. The taser. If you got your hands on that, you may have a chance.
“Looking for this.” Rafe questioned.
In the dark, you peered over at him as he held your purse by a single finger. He shook his head knowingly before gathering it in the palm of his hand & chucking it into the forest. You heard it thud somewhere in the distance. Fresh tears escaped you as Rafe used his shoe to roll you over onto your back.
“Please, Rafe, don’t. I’m sorry for running.” You weren’t, but it was survival now to kiss up to him.
But Rafe just stared down at you, “It’s too late for your apologies.”
He bent at the knees then before grabbing a fistful of your hair & forcing you upwards into a sitting position. A pained whimper parted your lips, forcing you to bite your lip to stifle them.
“What do you want then?” You cried out, your hands clinging to the grip he held on your hair.
“Same thing as before.” Rafe responded, his voice flat & emotionless. You stopped crying to stare at him. He only gazed at you unfeelingly.
“No.” You shook in his hold. “No!”
You screamed & thrashed, trying to kick at him but Rafe easily overpowered you, forcing you back on your back as he climbed on top of you.
“No! No! No!” You screamed, cried, begged over & over again. But all of your fight was falling on deaf ears. You beat your fists against his chest & back as he wrestled with you to get your jeans off. The chill of the forest erupted your skin with goosebumps & you felt like your heart was going to burst outside of your chest.
Rafe was quick to remove his own jeans, shoving them down his thighs. Once he did, he focused on your upper half, yanking your arms out the sleeves of your jacket before pulling the top of your tube top down. You were practically fully naked in the middle of nowhere with Rafe Cameron on top of you.
But that didn’t matter. You never stopped resisting him, never stopped trying to get him off you or hurt him. Everything you did though, it was like it didn’t register to him. Like he didn’t feel any of it. You knew Rafe was scary but this was a new level. He was a fucking monster.
His fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear & tugged on it until you heard the seams snap & tear. You desperately reached for the back of his hand, grabbing two handfuls of his hair before yanking as hard as you could.
It was the first reaction Rafe gave. He hissed in response, ripping his head out from under your grasp. It was a short-lived win before you saw him raise the back of his hand & whip it across your face. A sharp gasp left you at the assault, & you tasted blood on your tongue as your lower lip burned.
“This is what you said, _____.” Rafe snarled as he finished tearing your underwear from your body, “’Man up & give her what she deserves’. Those are your words.”
Sobs racked your body as he repeated back to you your own demand of him.
“That’s exactly,” He snatched you by the throat & raised you up enough until his face was only an inch away from your own, “what I’m doing. I’m giving you exactly what you deserve. What I should’ve done from the beginning.”
He released you, & your head smacked against the soft earth but it did little to comfort the blow.
You whimpered like a beaten & abused dog as Rafe wrestled your legs apart to fit himself snugly in between them. You placed your hands on his chest, using all your strength to prevent him from crushing you with his body but your strength was nothing compared to his. He forced your elbows to bend as he lowered himself on top of you until your chest were pressed against one another.
“Don’t cry.” He kissed you on the side of your mouth, forcing you to whip your face away from him, “It’s nothing we haven’t done already.”
A sharp pain shot up your spine as Rafe forced himself inside you. He chuckled darkly to himself as one of his hands caught you by your chin, forcing you to look at him. You desperately searched for anywhere else to look that wasn’t him but he was all you could see. That smug & evil smirk, the glint & prideful glow in his eyes. It only grew worse when he began to groan as he snapped his hips against yours.
Your fingers dug themselves into the earth as Rafe raped you on the forest floor. You were hyperventilating beneath him, unfeeling from the waist down, but it was a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You wished you could do what some women had reported happening when they were raped & how they were able to shut off their mind & go anywhere else, but yours wasn’t doing that. It was happening & you couldn’t stop it.
Rafe tucked his face into your neck as he moaned loudly & freely, like a predator having caught his unwilling prey in the world of beasts. No one was coming. No one could hear your cries. This was Darwinism at it’s finest. Only the strong survived.
Your tears had stopped but you were still panting, staring past Rafe’s head at the tops of the trees. You couldn’t make out the night sky beyond them. Everywhere you looked was pitch darkness, & you saw it most whenever Rafe forced you to look at him while he fucked you to his hearts content.
It felt like hours before he finally came. He growled like the beast he was as he thrusted himself inside you as deep as he could go. You groaned in pain as your hips flared at the stretch of them. Your body shook beneath him as he stilled completely above you. But you could still feel his cock spitting his seed inside of you. The fact of that made bile rise in your throat.
Rafe rolled off you a second later, hissing as his own body shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. An ungodly burning & stinging pain originated from between your legs & you were terrified to see what he did to you.
Then he started laughing. It wasn’t the loud, jovial kind you often heard in your bar, but the snarky, cocky kind that reminded you exactly of who he was in high school. You had heard it plenty of times.
“God, that was good.” Rafe breathed out, “My imagination whenever I fuck Jules doesn’t even come close to that.”
Jules’ face flashed through your mind & you rushed upwards. You turned to the side, holding your stomach as you bent over & vomited. Tears returned to your eyes, blurring your already dizzying vision as you emptied what little contents were in your stomach. As you continued to only throw up stomach acid & a few bites of food, you felt a hand on your back.
A fit of fury came over you & you lashed out at Rafe as he attempting to comfort you. After he just raped you! It was a joke.
But Rafe yowled as you swung your arm at him. This stole your attention & you peered through your dirtied hair as Rafe held his face. When he removed his hand to inspect his hand, you marveled at the three scratch marks going from his forehead down over his right eye & ending on his cheek.
All you could do was start laughing. And then you couldn’t stop. You were laughing hysterically, pointing at Rafe like he was a kid on the playground who just got humiliated in front of everyone. He snarled at you, knocking your hand away & catching you by the throat.
“You think that’s funny?” He sneered.
You grinned, still laughing despite your air being restricted. Rafe growled before throwing you back to the forest floor.
“I’ll tell you what’s funny, _____.” He yanked on your shoulder, turning you over to face him, “Here’s the deal. And its your only two options so I’d listen real fucking close.”
You glared up at him, wanting nothing more than to finished what claws did & tear his skin completely from his face.
“You’re gonna get in my fucking truck, we’re going to the apartment, & you’re going to go to your room. I’m going into Jules & I’m either going to A. break up with her & tell her we’re together or B. do to her what I just did to you. And I’ll do far worse to her.”
The threat forced your panic riddled body to leap upwards, “Don’t!”
“I won’t, unless you make me. That’s your choice, _____. I either stay with her & hurt her every fucking day, or I get you & I’ll never lay a finger on her.”
You shook your head, staring up at him, “Please, Rafe, you got what you wanted. Just leave us alone.”
He sighed, kneeling down to be eye level with you, “I want you. All of you. All the time. And for everyday I go without that, Jules will suffer.”
Imagining Rafe doing to Jules what he just did to you forced fresh sobs from you. You covered your mouth to stifle the cries. You couldn’t let him do that to her. You didn’t care if it meant she’d hate you forever. You just couldn’t let him hurt her. No one deserved that. Not even you. But were strong. You may have been Rafe’s prey that night, but you were a survivor. But if you knew what Rafe was doing to Jules every day in & night out, you’d never be able to live with yourself. One way or another, someone was getting hurt. You knew it had to be you.
“So?” Rafe tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “We have a deal?”
You leaned away from his touch, but peered up at him through your wet lashed.
Rafe saw the resolve in your eyes. He grinned devilishly.
Only the strong survive, you repeated to yourself.
Only the strong survive.
i'm fuckin' whipped, babes. like whhhhhiiiipped. i cannot believe i cranked this out in less than 12 hours but fuck. i. did. it.
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I’ve got a question about packing- so I know some packers can be used as dildos as well (at least that’s what my high school trans friends said) so my question is- can *every* dildo be used as a packer? Or is it like- some packers are dildos but not all dildos are packers. I’m messing around with my gender identity and just trying to have fun with it. I’d like to wear my 9 inch sparkly pink n blue dildo out but im not sure if there’s a difference in the way packers lay in the underwear vs dildos. Sorry if this is convoluted ahsjfjsk I always talk too much
hey yeah this is a good question. this gets somewhat detailed and has a lot involving sex and masturbation for ftms so putting the rest under the cut.
so packing as an actuon is generally divided into two catagories, soft and hard packing.
usually when people talk about packing they mean soft packing. If packing in general is the action of inserting an object into your pants to create the illusion of a penis- soft packing would be creating the illustion of a soft or flaccid penis. this is for everyday use. this type is usually unoticable and can aid with passing or just be affirming for a person. This can be a sexual act but it’s most often a nonsexual act. When you look for packers, they’re usually made for soft packing. So they will be of a soft material and usually smaller. You can’t really penetrate with them because they are 1) much softer than a dildo and b) usually don’t have a lot of usable length. They’re not designed to have penetrative sex with. It’s also why people use socks or another soft object. You are simulating a flaccid penis.
The other type is hard packing. You are simulating an erect penis. So generally, you would use a dildo for this. However. because you are purposely putting an object that resembles an erect penis into your pants, it will look like you have an erect penis in your pants. There aren’t a lot of packers sold for this specific purpose, so you would usually just use a dildo. This is pretty much exclusivly for sexual use. Not always ‘i am going to have sex’ but if you are going to go somewhere purposely looking like you have a very noticable and very large erection, that more often than not will be for some sort of sexual purpose, whether it be exhibitionism/humilation, crusing or signaling to others you want to have sex or whatever else you may want to with it. I’m sure there are exceptions. but that’s the basic idea.
essentially if the object resembles a flaccid penis in softness, shape and size, that’s soft packing. if the object resembles an erect penis in softness, shape and size, thats hard packing.
What your friends were describing could be a few things. the first is often refered to as a 2-in-1 or 3-in-1 (or however many features it has) prosthetic. These are pretty special in a few ways. They are 1) usually on a spectrum from pretty realistic to ‘holy shit that’s not an actual penis attached to your body??’ 2) extremely expensive 3) handmade and often made to order 4) a very niche market and often seen as less of a sex toy or gender affirmation object and more of a.. bottom surgery replacement. they are very cool and very intense. There’s differences between different brands but generally it is one object that performs a variety of different functions based on how you wear it and different inserts. For example, someone may buy a prosthetic that claims to be capable of four whole things! Packing, Peeing, Sex and Masturbation. Packing: You put it in your pants. Depending on things you may use a harness or an adhesive to attach the prosthetic to your skin (which can look pretty seamless and last for days at a time which is pretty awesome) Peeing: You may use a stp (stand-to-pee) harness for this part but a prosthetic with stp capabilities is indeed hollow and acts as a funnel so you can indeed pee standing up. Sex/Masturbation: These often come with stiff inserts you put inside of the hollow stp cavity. These make the penis erect and sometimes have a stimulation area at the back of them so the part that presses agaist your genetalia can be stimulated during motions of thrusting/jerking. Some can even ejaculate! it’s pretty neat. But those are generally the things people talk about when talking about packers you can use as dildos. There are many variations of prosthetics that can and cannot do different things, I only really described one function. There are also bendable dildos and dual density dildos- but listen to me. silicone is great, but it can only do so many things. Things it cannot do is shrink in volume or change firmness. So while you could pack with a bendable dual density dildo, it will look more like you have a bent erection or at best a semi than it will a flaccid penis. If that’s what you’re going for, that’s great. But prothetics tend to go the route of a removable stiff insert for a reason.
I hope this made some sense. tldr. good luck and do whatever you want forever! however. packing with a 9 inch hard dildo is going to look like you have a 9 inch hard penis. do with that what you will.
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Hello thank you so much you are the first person to answer my request and I just lovedddddd it .
Another request with gojo where they are married for like 2 months and things are kind of stiff cause it is arranged marriage but then one day he sees that a group are guys ate harassing his wife everyday as she takes the train . He asked her why she did not tell him about it and all and she says cause she thought he might even listen and stuff and things get spicy and it's his wife's first ever relationship.
I know this is big if you don't like it ignore it .
Thank you
𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞
synopsis: Gojo wasn’t the best husband and you weren’t the best wife, the discomfort of the arranged marriage taking a toll on the both of you. Two months in and he hasn’t even held your hand, let alone made a move on you– something you so desperately craved. It wasn’t until he saw two men shove you against the wall on the train that his natural husband instincts kicked in, the men dangling by their collars over the speeding blurry tracks. All he wanted to do now was protect you, shield you from the cruel world with a blindfold of your own, and maybe dry your tears with the comfort of his dick.
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, wife!reader, husband!gojo, arranged marriage, clan mentions, cursing (a lot of it oops), angst, yearning, emotions (a lot of emotions), crying, hurt/comfort, insecurity (marriage wise), gojo basically ignores reader for the first two months (not for reasons you think though), quiet arguments, first time, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, he’s rough in the beginning cuz he’s selfish, creampie, aftercare, slight mention of future children (just a sentence or two), petnames (sweetheart, honey, baby).
trigger warnings: harassment; reader is cornered constantly by two men on a train. some instances of harassment include yanking the readers arm to get their attention, reader getting burned by a cigarette after trying to fight back, & reader being pushed up against the wall with ill intent.
a/n: imagine him in (this) cuz holy shit, i love this outfit on him. i got extremely carried away IM SO SORRY. haha also gojo says something incredibly corny during sexy time and i was going to change it but it made me laugh too hard just imagining him saying it so i kept it. i don’t think ive ever written this much in one sitting in my entire life. wc: 8k. m.list
divider credit: @benkeibear
Two months.
Two months you’ve endured this situation, your body basically as stiff as a board as you shared a bed with one of the most respected clan members in Tokyo. Ever since you said yes to that question, that damned question you thought you never would’ve heard in this standing– ‘Do you take Gojo Satoru to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ Your whole world fell apart. After all, it was an arranged marriage and you did not know this man in the slightest. All you knew was his power, told to you by your clan specifically and what he had accomplished over the span of twenty-something years.
It wasn’t meant to be like this, the distance that scraped the surface of your marriage. Gojo should’ve warmed up to you by now, as well as vice versa, but there was still a wall built between the two of you.
You didn’t really know the aspects of a relationship either as you’ve never been allowed to date due to the conditions of your clan; that you were to marry someone from the Gojo clan when you turned twenty-one. Unfortunately, you didn’t have many options as Satoru had been the last one standing by the grace of his inherited traits.
Because of your ignorance, you couldn’t quite gauge if this type of distance was a normality within marriage. Were you to just stick by him through thick and thin when he hasn’t even so much as kissed you since your last shared moment at the wedding venue?
Was this really marriage? Or were you just a placeholder for the potential of your clan, an offspring bearing Satoru’s inviolable power?
Sneaking out of the bed carefully, you tiptoed downstairs of the shared loft and sat against the sofa with your knees tucked into your chest. You contemplated turning on the television for some white noise but you didn’t want to wake Gojo up, in fear he might yell although he’s never done that. You deduced that he wasn’t a tyrant, the speculation blending in on days where he’d come home tired but he would still have a gentleness laced within his voice as he whispered a quiet ‘hello, how was your day?’ to you.
Gentle yet not an ounce of intimacy had ever shone through, his body nearly melting into a warm bath everytime he moved past you after formalities. He would barely speak to you for the rest of the evening as he went about his routine. You thought maybe his missions just took up his entire mind, it was his success story after all; his life had been blasted throughout Japan due to his aspects. But then you’d noticed his time away from home with his friends, karaoke bars dredging up on his bank statements.
Which brought you to think maybe he was an alcoholic and he couldn’t you know… get it up.
It was fairly common for alcoholics to become inept in sex, so you couldn’t quite put it past him if that were the case. But then again, you’ve never seen him drunk. It was entirely possible that he could’ve sobered up by the time he arrived home. He never smelled of alcohol though, normally it would seep out of someone’s pores whether or not they had showered the pungent smell down the drain. But as he slipped into bed with the covers huddled against him after a night out, he’d smell of the shampoo you two shared with a fragrance of lilac surrounding the bedsheets.
Your phone slipped from your hand with a loud thud and you flinched, cursing at yourself inwardly as you swiped down to pick it up. You prayed you didn’t wake Gojo up, as he had a long mission in the morning. But it was too late as you heard him rustle his way out of the sheets, a disgruntled yawn escaping him as he put on his slippers. The bedroom was open space within the loft, separated by a thin glass railing that someone could easily lean over which is exactly what he did.
Gojo peered down at you, his tired eyes still filled with sleep. You could still see the radiance of them even from below, the piercing brightness that you swear you’ll never get used to. “Y/N? You’re not in bed.”
“I’m sorry Gojo, I didn’t mean to be so lou-” You started clumsily, fiddling with the stupid phone in your hands but he interrupted you quietly.
“Satoru. Call me Satoru.” He reminded you with that same tenderness from before, that gentleness you couldn’t quite get past and your cheeks flushed red. “It's cold down there, isn’t it? Must be freezing.”
Gojo padded down the stairs and you stood up as he draped a thin blanket onto your shoulders, shielding your body from the icy air that the winter had brought into the house. He headed for the restroom, his slippers shuffling against the hardwood floor and you made a note to buy yourself a pair; the fuzzy socks on your feet didn’t do you justice for the wretchedness of the season. You stared at the caved in reflection of yourself from the windowed wall, the trees dancing in the wind with their roots tucked safely underground.
There was a river on this side of the house as well, the water edging up against the stones that had been laid out carefully to create a small pond for koi fish. A bridge elapsed over it and sometimes you sat against it, your feet dangling as you fed the fish while waiting for Gojo to return home. It was a funny feeling to have so much of his wealth staring back at you all of a sudden.
“You still up?” Gojo asked, a bit puzzled as he stood against the light from the restroom. It veiled out into the living room and you were met with his silhouette crowding the doorway. He had his arm up against the doorframe and his eyebrows raised slightly as he stared at you. His shirt was hanging loosely off his body and some of the light illuminated his waist, the curves that travel down to his–
He shut the light off and you couldn’t see him anymore except for the tufts of white hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the darkness. Moving towards the stairs, you ascended them as he managed to catch up to you. You didn’t notice the way he held out his hand, hovering over the small of your back to ensure you didn't stumble back. And even if you did, he’d be sure to catch you without so much as a thought whether he’d fall down the stairs with you. And if you both did manage to fall, a laugh would probably erupt out of him as you both sat there in bewildered pain.
Crawling into your side of the bed, you felt the cold rush of the sheets lying amidst the tangle of your limbs. You laid down with a quiet sigh, the moon thick amongst the clouds and you stared at it for a while. The other side of the bed creaked underneath his weight and you felt his body brush up against yours as he pulled the shared blanket over himself. You wanted nothing more than his arm to wrap around your waist, to pull you close and flush against him and you pouted when he turned his back to you.
Gojo had fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow and that meant he wouldn’t bother you for the rest of the night. Though, you kinda wished he did want to bother you.
The morning came with the sunrise shielding your eyes as you awoke, the man next to you long gone and off to work. The first thing on your mind was breakfast, a delightful hope that maybe something could be made in the kitchen. But as you headed downstairs, the cabinets looked bare as well as the fridge with no intentions on filling themselves. A shopping trip apparently was needed today and you sighed heavily as you got yourself ready for the day.
The train wasn’t very full, the morning commute having passed a few hours prior but you still had to stand near the edge of the sliding doors. Everything went to your liking at the grocery store, you had picked out a bunch of fruits, vegetables, and of course a few sweets for Gojo because you noticed the macaroons he had brought home one day, half eaten on his kitchen counter. You had watched him from the comfort of the bed, munching on them while scrolling through his phone, single-handedly eating the rest of the box in one sitting with a happy hum. That’s when you realized his sweet tooth, the bulk of it surviving off of straight sugared pastries.
As you headed towards the station, you had a nagging feeling there were eyes on you. A familiar sense surrounded you and you wondered why it felt like that; you pushed it out of your mind though. It was most likely someone checking out your attire, the adorned outfit clinging to your skin. It had enough detail pointing towards your midriff and your thighs encased in thin stockings, maybe someone had just been attentive today and wanted to ogle at you. It wasn’t like you could stop them.
The train back was much more packed at noon and you had been squeezed into a corner, next to two guys that looked to be middle aged with cigarettes between their fingertips. This was an issue in your eyes, as you realized they were the same guys that had been harassing you before whenever you took the train home. You had ignored it the first few times, the music you had blasting in your ears enough for them to turn their heel but the past few days as you stepped out of the house to do your errands, it became much more demeaning.
The first time it was a subtle nudge with their foot against yours, kicking it lightly to get you to pay attention to them. The next time it an arm grab as you hopped off the train, your feet just barely grazing the ground as you hauled yourself out past the doors. And now, you didn’t know what they would try this time as you failed to bring earbuds with you. It seemed as if the world didn’t care what happened to you when you left Gojo’s hell of a palace, the bypasser’s backs turned against your favor. The skirt you wore came past your midthigh and you clenched your hold on the pole a little tighter, shuffling some of your bags against your forearms wearily.
“Heading to the same place, doll?” One of them piped up, a sleazy smile lazed on his lips. You tried to ignore him, but he certainly noticed your lack of music and he got up from his seat in front of you. You tried to move backwards a bit, but there really wasn’t any space to do so.
“Yeah, we can escort you there this time. Seems to me you got a lot of bags.” The other one said as he also stood in front of you and you looked around the train, factoring in the exits and the fastest way to push through people. You also noted that almost everyone else was minding their own business, fucking assholes with their headphones and haughty misplaced morals.
As you decided whether or not to stand your ground, you noticed a tall figure in the back of the train car making their way forward with unhurried ease. Maybe you could ask them for help, whoever they were. Or maybe they were in cahoots with these men who had been harassing you, readying their attack from afar.
“Can you please leave me alone?” You asked firmly, trying to move away again from where they towered above you. You really weren’t liking your odds this time and a wave of fear rushed over you as one of them yanked some of your bags away, discarding them on the seat behind them.
“C’mon, looks like you need help today–” The first guy started, grabbing the groceries from your other arm and you pulled them back toward you harshly. The second guy had sat back into his seat, aiming to finish his cigarette instead of bothering you. The first guy kept a steady hand on you though, a bruised grip on you and it started to hurt; a dull throb had begun to overtake your arm.
“Please stop.” You pleaded, swinging the bag into him hard as he tried to deliberately yank it away again. Some of the items fell out of the bag and another hand on your arm gripped you harshly, pulling you down towards the man sitting.
“Quit being so stubborn. You’re boyfriend’s not here to help you, huh?” The second guy cooed, holding you in place as the first guy went through the groceries on the floor. He huddled some into his jacket, unaware of his surroundings for a second and you used that to your advantage. Hitching your leg up, you kicked him directly in the abdomen and he doubled over in pain, the groceries falling from his pockets.
“You little bitch–!” The second guy sneered at you as he dug his lit cigarette into your skin and you yelped in pain, dropping all of your bags now onto the floor. You tried to wrench your arm away from the searing burn, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong on you and you vaguely felt your back slam into the wall behind you, pain filling every crevice of your body. It was such a quick interaction, your thighs trembled underneath you as the man pushed up against you to keep you in place. Pure dread raced through you as you squeezed your eyes shut with a scream readying in your throat until you felt the weight off your chest and loud yells were flooding through your ears, the cigarette falling onto the floor.
More like terrified screams, a rush of wind had opened up in the train and your eyes peeked open cautiously. They first fixed on the wide open doors of the moving train, the lights speeding through the instances of train signs and the accompanied men hanging over the edge by their shirt collars. Then you registered the white haired man who was dangling said men with two strong hands, threatening to throw them out onto the electrified tracks beneath them. Begs and pleads came whirling out of both of the men’s mouths and you were sure one of them had started crying, sobs frantically overtaking him like a pussy.
“Satoru!” You cried out and his head whipped towards you, worry flooding his face as he saw you collapse with shaky footing onto the seat. Reluctantly, he pulled the men back into the train and slammed them against the door as he shut it.
“Don’t fucking touch her again.” Gojo threatened, the edge in his voice not faltering and both of the men nodded scarily quick. “In fact, you don’t need to take this train anymore. Looks like another route opened up on your commute, huh?”
Gojo put his hands in his pockets and gave the men a hard kick to the stomach before moving over towards you. One of the other things you noticed was that he wasn’t in his uniform, his figure filled in a solid black sleeved tee and khakis instead. He crouched in front of you and immediately took off his usual sunglasses, studying your face to make sure you were okay. The whirling blue stared at you with growing panic as you shied away from him, terrified that they were going to see through your every sense. “Let me see.”
Gojo’s hands immediately cupped your face as you froze, checking for any abrasions and then moved downwards to your arms and he stroked over the cigarette mark gently with his fingers. You winced at the pain that blossomed at the peak of the burn and he instantly pulled his hand away, his mind running a million miles a minute as he frowned at the singed area. Suddenly Gojo pulled a smile, a toothy grin that made you utterly confused.
“I have a first aid kit stashed somewhere in our house, so you’ll be fine!” He said reassuringly, a lighthearted tone edging his demeanor. What was with him? Normally he was quiet around you and his bearings kept punctuation in calmness. You’ve never seen this side of him and you faintly wondered if this was how he acted in public. Maybe when he was home, it was a different atmosphere and he was allowed to let his guard down.
Home, our house? His words cut through you like a knife. While he tended to the groceries on the floor and placed them into the bags again, you couldn’t help but tense up even more. It didn’t feel like your home, your shared life–
Gojo’s voice fell a few octaves, the cheery upkeep of his personality disappearing as he became serious. “Was this the first time they harassed you?”
“N-No.” You managed to say, sitting up fully on the train. Your head pounded and you moved to pick up some of the groceries as they rattled against the train’s floor. The sweet you had bought for Gojo sat near his foot and you noticed some of the pastries had been swished as you picked up the package. You let out a quiet noise of discontent, his eyes shot up towards yours with uneasiness and he noticed the sweets in your hand.
“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me they were bothering you?” He murmured, carefully taking the sweets from your hand and placing them in the bag as he glanced at the words on the package. Realizing they were for him as you don’t eat those types of pastries often, his heart warmed in his chest. Gojo tried his best to hide the smile that was trying to flourish on his face, it wasn’t the time to get sappy about sweets you bought him. “I could’ve skipped some of my missions, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. A pet name. You didn’t think it was possible for him to utter such fondness, the affection sounding like it danced on a pile of fluffy clouds above your head. It made you lightheaded, or at least you thought it did; certainly not from the hellish confrontation you just had.
“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I would’ve gladly joined you on your escapades if you told me.” Gojo teased with a gentle tone and you frowned at him. He was still crouched in front of you, his black long sleeve nearly slipping off the sides of his shoulders as he leaned forward to accommodate some space on the train as more people filed in. The ends of his elbows rested on one of your thighs as you crossed your ankles together in between his feet, recollecting yourself fully.
“You barely pay attention to me now, why would you go out of your way to come with me during my errands?” You avoided his eyes this time, not wanting to feel fooled into explaining anything more than that. But when the silence grew heavy after a few seconds, you glanced over to find out why he hadn’t spoken.
His face had fallen flat and his eyes weren’t shining anymore, much to your relief. But as much as it relieved you it also made you incredibly upset, a knot thickening in your throat as you watched the dulled turquoise glass over.
“That’s not…”
“It’s true! You never pay attention to me. You’re either out with friends at a karaoke bar probably drinking away the day or you’re exorcising some curse late in the night. Gojo, I don’t think you–”
“Satoru. I don’t drink by the way.” He corrected you, silent annoyance filling his voice but it fizzled out as he tried his best to remain calm. In truth, he was falling apart on the inside. He never knew, never realized that he had been so distant from you and that you were hurting because of it. He only wanted to give you space the first few months to let you get used to his routine and to help you find your own. As Gojo thought of that reason, it seemed incredibly selfish of him and his chest tightened up with regret.
Pushing the feeling down, he laughed mildly with a hint of sorrow. “My mission was called off. I was on my way home, no curses to exorcise today.”
“Satoru…” Repeating his name, you said it with so much sadness that his heart almost broke in two. “Even when you come home early, you spend the rest of the evening without me. And your bank statements–”
“From me buying the rounds for everyone, that’s not the issue right now.” He confessed truthfully; he would buy the whole bar for his friends who have seen hell and back with him, but he didn’t dare to drink a drop as it disoriented him too much. “I don’t have anything to do this evening so we can spend it together, sweeth–”
The next words you spoke were barely above a whisper as you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from outright sobbing them. “You haven’t so much as kissed me since the wedding. Why would you want to spend time with me?”
Tears welled up in your eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the tips of his thumbs, the long awaited gesture making sobs wrack your body; of course he was drying the tears that he made you cry. “I don’t think we should’ve gotten married.”
The train had halted, a loud announcement blaring that it was the end of the line. It was your stop, the doors opening up with the wind blowing through the train again and you tried to stand before Gojo softly blocked your way. You couldn’t look at him. “Y/N, you don’t mean that–”
“I just want to go home. I’m miserable, -toru.”
“Of course, let’s go.” Gojo stood up with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses once more, hauling the grocery bags onto his forearms and offering a hand out to you. “I’ll make dinner tonight.”
That’s not what you meant.
When you got to the house, stagnant air filled the house with tension filling in the empty corners. Gojo had become near silent, putting away the groceries with his lips pressed in a thin line and you thought you made him mad.
In reality, he was on the verge of tears because he didn’t know how to make anything up to you. It was entirely his fault, the distance that forced you two apart. He was too focused on his missions to give a damn about how you felt, your feelings were rendered useless in his eyes. He was so used to arranged marriages in his clan that he never expected you to be so fragile, the frailness of a new life seeming to shock you.
And so he gave you space. He thought it was something you wanted– something you needed after being forced to live with a big shot jujutsu sorcerer from Tokyo. He knew his life was drastically different from yours, you had stability from living peacefully with your clan. You were promised fortune and happiness and future children you could call your own, something you must’ve dreamed of. Gojo had nothing, his missions keeping him afloat as he danced in the midst of the curses who tried to test him; not to mention the wickedness of other clans threatening to clash with him.
All he really wanted was someone close enough to him that he could let his guard down without a second thought; his technique fading away and being replaced by your hands on him, tearing away at the fabric that made him whole. He’s never felt like this before, the constant emotions flaring up his every sense and he nearly wiped out when he first saw you on the sidewalk, carrying the precious groceries to the train station. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the readying sensation of wanting to be the one who carried your bags and alleviate your stress, he’d likely let you step all over him like a doormat if it meant he could get close to you.
But he just couldn’t.
“I’m going to see my clan leader tomorrow.” You expressed, seating yourself at the island in the kitchen. You had just showered, the muck of the men’s hand from earlier flooding down the drain and you sighed in relief as you felt more like yourself again. Gojo had swapped his sunglasses for his blindfold, his hair sticking straight up in light of the band wedging his bangs off of his forehead. He was still in the same attire though, the dusked sleeves rolled up messily against his arms as he meticulously cut vegetables for dinner. When he registered your words, the knife in his hand faltered.
“Would they even let you come back?” Gojo sulked, mixing the sliced veggies with the accompanying sauce that sat on the stove. “Clans are very unforgiving, you know. I don’t think you’d survive if you went home.”
“I don’t know.” You really didn’t, all they taught you was to be praising of the Gojo clan member you marry; your whole life had been to practically worship him on your hands and knees. Not that you’ve done that– the hands and knees part would’ve been nice though in practice.
“We don’t have to talk about this now.” Gojo turned towards you, leaning over the island with a spoon in his hand. “Here, taste this for me.”
A blend of spices hit your tongue as you savored the sauce from the dip of the spoon, looking up at him as you did so. You could feel the cursed energy flowing from him and it made you waver slightly as you made to say that he was a good cook. As he moved back into front of the stove, you swore you saw a small blush creep up his cheeks.
A bit of silence followed and you decided to help out with dinner, picking out some other ingredients for him to use. As you opened the refrigerator to scour the shelves, Gojo cleared his throat as he peeled the outside of an onion. “What do you expect from a husband?”
Your head peeked over the fridge towards him in utter shock. You thought you weren’t going to talk about pointless intentions, your mind having been set on leaving. “What?”
“Huh, I gotta repeat myself?”
“No, I heard you. Let me think for a second.”
The first thing that popped into your mind was intimacy. A husband should provide a sense of intimacy that no one but him should give you; the very essence of a human relationship. This didn’t have to include sexual relations, but in your case you wanted it to. It would be nice if he held your hand during outings and offered sentimental gestures like flowers and a hushed compliment every now and then. But the feeling you really craved was his hands against your thighs, digging into your flesh as his mouth hovered over every place it could reach with a pointed tongue and his eyes boring up towards yours, a smirk prominent on his lips as you quivered under his touch.
Dejection sat heavy in your heart just then, reminding you that he hasn’t done any of those things.
The fridge wafted over you with a cold atmosphere and you pushed the thought out of your head, shutting the door mindlessly. You watched Gojo add the rest of the ingredients to the pan and he washed the cutting board he used with a hum, presumably giving you time to think over your answer.
But you lost your train of thought and after a minute of just standing there with a blank face, he spoke up in an amused tone. “You gonna answer me, sweetheart?”
“Do you not want to have sex with me?”
“Where did that come from?” A quiet chuckle escaped him as he dried his hands of excess water, leaning against the island with his hip. He tossed the towel down on the counter, crossing his arms with a coy smile. “I should be asking you that question.”
“I thought you didn’t care or something was wrong with me. That you didn’t want me, that I was just some offer that my clan made you-” You started, emotions flowing through your system as tears threatened to spill again. Your voice broke off in the midst of the sentence and you gasped for air as you tried not to cry. You didn’t realize how broken you felt until now as it trudged up towards the surface and you vaguely registered Gojo moving towards you, his smirk disappearing with a quiet coo.
His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug and you froze when you heard his heartbeat against your ear. “Y/N, I wanted you from the moment I saw you walking down the aisle.”
“Satoru…” You whispered into his chest and he shushed you, his strong arms hauling you onto the island and you sat eye level with him and he bended slightly down in front of you. You had the genius idea to remove his blindfold with lithe fingers, hooking them and pulling upwards to reveal the vividness hiding underneath. His hair fell against his eyes and he smiled at you warmly as he blinked his eyes a bit, getting used to the extra exposure of light.
Your head was swimming at his confession, the memory of walking down in your white dress crossing your mind fondly. And him in his pristine black suit with a pearly blue tie, sticking out like a sore thumb mind you, his eyes had draped against you as your clan leader gave you away. You never recognized his awe of you as you were shaking like a leaf when you first saw his demeanor; the intense refined energy whirling off of him nearly made you trip down the aisle.
“Please, just let me make it up to you.” Gojo whispered as you folded his blindfold into his pocket, leaning into your space with his arms braced on either side of you on the counter. “Before you leave me, let me give you one good night. Though, that’s a severe understatement if you know what I mean.”
Before you could answer him, his lips had found yours with lenience hanging by a thread. Immediately resting your hands against the back of his neck, you enclosed them and pulled him closer to you with a feeling yearning so deeply inside you. It made your entire body shudder with want, his words running circles in your mind as you let his tongue slip in with growing fervor. Gojo’s hands found your waist, holding you steady as you edged yourself away from him.
“-toru, -toru, wait.” You pulled back and he made a short noise of discontent, instead latching his lips against your neck. “D-Dinner?”
“Oh, right.” He muttered into your skin with a displeased groan. In one fluid motion, he turned off the stove and carried you by the grace of one arm. “That’s not what I want right now.”
As he walked the both of you up the stairs to the loft, you clung onto him like a lifeline and even as he laid you down against the bed, your hands never left a part of his body. You needed to be close to him, needed this one chance for him to change your mind; in truth you didn’t want to leave him. But it made him move like clockwork, huh?
Who knew all you had to do was cry?
Gojo hovered above you and God, you didn’t realize how massive his frame was against yours until he was on top of you. His broad shoulders basically caged you in, keeping you safe underneath him as his tongue found your collarbone and lapped at it slowly. Your hands flew to his hair with a quiet moan, tangling in the fluffy snow of it and he hummed delightfully at your response. His hands played with the seams at the bottom of your shirt and his eyes darted to yours, asking for permission.
Offering a quick ‘yes’, you felt your shirt lift up carefully and his hands instantly roamed underneath, focusing on the way you had no bra on. How wonderful it was that you were comfortable in that sense with him, his fingers tweaking your nipple lightly as he studied you for a reaction. A peaked whimper left your mouth and your eyes slipped shut, your back arching slightly into his touch. Gojo felt the heavy ache of his cock, pressing harshly against the front of his trousers and he honestly didn’t think he could get this hard. But you were just so pliant, every single touch enacts a spark from you and he wished he made his move sooner.
He could’ve been buried in you every waking moment you were with him for the past two months and he wished he could go back in time and beat himself up for being such a fucking idiot.
“-toru…” You moaned out as his mouth latched onto your nipple now after he fully pulled your shirt off, his teeth grazing the bud and he had to press his palm against his cock to calm down as you whimpered out little pleas. Pleas that were music to his ears, your hands pulling his down towards your precious cunt and all he wanted to do was sink in.
But he had to stop himself from just going in blind with you; it was your first time after all. Gojo didn’t want to scare you away because of his sheer desperation, it was his own fault that he made you wait so long. It wasn’t about him, he needed to make sure you saw stars tonight.
“Fuck, want to hear those pretty whimpers for the rest of my life.” He breathed out as his fingers traced your clothed cunt, teasing it with a hard stroke upwards towards your clit. Gojo hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and again with a questioning look pleaded for an answer. You rewarded him with a quick nod and he pulled them out with ease, his jaw dropping a bit as he noticed how wet you were already. It practically seeped out of you and he held back a groan as he swiped a finger through it.
“God, didn’t think a pussy could get this wet.” He uttered under his breath, sucking his finger into his mouth to clean it off. “And I’ve seen my fair share.”
“Satoru.” You frowned at him, sitting up on your elbows. “Did you have to add that last part?”
“Sorry, baby. Your pussy’s the prettiest, I promise.” He reassured with a smirk, bending down to face your cunt.
He teased his tongue against your clit experimentally and groaned into you as you reacted exactly how he expected you to, your hands clutching at his hair again. He ran his arms underneath your thighs, rubbing softly at your hips as he pulled you more onto him. Gojo licked a fat stripe up your entire cunt this time, lapping at the arousal that flooded out of you with satisfaction. You moaned out, your head tipping back and your hips rolled against his face subconsciously as he fucked his tongue into you feverishly. His nose pressed against your clit, rubbing it subtly as he pointed his tongue into you and you could already feel your orgasm rushing up your spine.
“-toru, hold on…. Fuck, too fast, wait!” You whined out, trying to push him away so you didn’t cum all over his face but his grip on you became tight and his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, his forearms cradling the backs of them. His eyes met yours as he noticed you quiver, the blinding blue heavy with lust and nothing could’ve stopped you then. You came all over his face with a tremble, the tightness in your tummy unraveling like a ribbon and Gojo moaned into your cunt as your thighs squeezed against him.
“Should’ve mentioned my tongue’s won an award.” He stupidly quipped afterwards and you burst out laughing once you caught your breath, the mood having lightened much more to your benefit. You could learn to love his idiot, if this is how everyday was supposed to be. You noticed the glisten that shielded his lower face and he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed hot.
“What, for talking shit?” You teased as he wiped his mouth with the inside of his shirt before pulling it off, his abs suddenly on display and you almost choked.
“Hey now, I don’t talk shit. Unless it’s about Utahime.” Gojo retorted with a chuckle, moving to unzip his trousers.
You stopped him and he looked at you confused but when your fingers ran against the outline of his cock, his eyes widened. He was fucking huge though you had nothing to compare it to and honestly you didn’t need to to know that he was gonna stretch you open with one shallow thrust. You unzipped his trousers, his clothed cock much more prominent in front of you now and you palmed him lightly, silently gauging his reaction. A quiet groan escaped him and his eyes fluttered shut as you pulled him out of his boxers. And holy fuck, he’s supposed to fuck you with this?
How was it going to fit? Gojo was so goddamn lengthy and wrapped your hand around him carefully, testing the waters as one of his hands rested against your shoulder. “Y-Y/N…”
“Yeah?” You breathed, running your hand up his shaft towards the tip, the crown of it and he shuddered– he fucking shuddered from your touch and he inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Tonight’s supposed to be about you.” Gojo bit back a moan as you started to pump him through his words, tracing some of his veins with the extent of your eyes.
“I want to, trust me.”
Before you really knew what you were doing, you took him into your mouth and Gojo’s hands flew to the top of your head quickly, a breathy moan emitting from him. “Holy shit, Y/N, holy fucking shit.”
You enveloped his cock in your warmth and he tangled his fingers into your hair shakily, the sensation sending warning signals flying to his brain as he tried his best not to just buck into your mouth. You sucked him down like a champ, and who the fuck taught you to do that, he thought vaguely with breathy moans falling from his mouth. He couldn’t help it, your mouth felt so good around him and it’s been forever since someone’s tended to him like this.
“Oh God, you have such a dirty mouth, huh baby? Who taught you how to– fuck, suck me off like that?” He moaned out, a smirk plastered on his face as he looked down at you and you scowled at him in return. You swallowed around him, listening to his whimpers and you noticed that his thighs had started to shake lightly.
Fuck, you were going to make him come just from this. “Shit, keep going baby…please, sweetheart.”
You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, lying heavily against your tongue and you lapped at it with a hefty moan. You hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as he could possibly go and you felt his hips start to move languidly, fucking himself deeper into your mouth. You gagged around him, feeling the wet slick of your saliva on his cock drag against your lips and his grip tightened in your hair. Gojo set a relentless pace for you, rutting in with vigor and you felt him tremble above you with a rushed groan following, his hips stilling.
You did not expect such a bitter taste, his cum flooding into your mouth in viscous ropes and you pulled off of him with a gasp. Some of it splattered on your face and you swallowed the load in your mouth a bit shocked. Your cunt suddenly ached with want, his whimpers and how his face contorted in pleasure replaying over and over and- “-toru…”
“Mm, ‘M sorry honey.” Gojo breathed out, his chest rising and falling and he swiped his finger through the splatter of cum across your cheek, reveling at how tainted you looked. Thank God he was the one to corrupt you, if it was anyone else he wouldn’t have been able to handle it he thought. The way you looked below him, your tongue flush on his cock; he’d probably kill everyone if he couldn’t see that again.
And that’s right, you were his wife. His precious wife that he took for granted.
“-toru, please. I need you, your fingers-” Your pleas brought him back to his senses, the numb feeling of the past two months falling away as he helped you lay back on the bed. You looked absolutely wrecked, your lips red and as you pleaded, it came out in rasps.
“Shh, it’s okay. Hold on, I got you.” Gojo had taken to your left side, making sure he had a good view of his fingers slipping inside you. As he pushed two inside, you keened at the feeling and your hips moved against them. He curled them upwards, grazing against your sweet spot lightly and you arched your back, your head falling against the feathery pillows with a wanton moan.
“Want my cock instead? Much better than my fingers, baby.” He cooed, his other hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it to full length again. It wasn’t all that difficult to get hard again when you were splayed out in front of him like this, begging for him to do anything and everything. Before you even nodded, he was pulling off the rest of his clothing and hovering over you once more, pulling his fingers out of you with a dismissed moan coming from you.
As he positioned himself against your entrance, his eyes captured yours for the first time in a while and you felt your cheeks blush hot with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you were begging for this man, but then again you couldn’t believe you weren’t begging for him before.
“Might hurt a bit, but you’ll be fine.” He warned as he prodded his tip into you slightly and you shuddered, holding onto his shoulder blades for support. He sunk further into you and about halfway in, a dull pain started to ache within you as he stretched you. You whimpered out and Gojo immediately stopped moving, slight concern spreading over his face. “Are you okay?”
“Shit, Satoru, you’re still not all the way in?” You whined and he merely chuckled, bottoming out with a shallow thrust that nearly brought you to tears. Gojo let out a breathy groan, his head lolling into the side of your neck and he kissed at your skin tenderly.
“I am now.” He sucked a bruise into the crevice of your neck as he waited for you to adjust, his cock twitching impatiently inside you. He could feel you squeezing him, clenching around him to get used to the feeling and every single time you did, it sent straight pleasure coursing through his veins. “Fuck, tell me when I can move…”
“You can move…” You managed to get out, your fingers running up his back with a delicate scratch.
“Thank fuck–” Gojo groaned out loudly, pulling all the way out of you and thrusting in with one fluid motion. You cried out at the sudden movement, you didn’t think he’d be so headstrong to fuck into you harshly without so much as a quick warning. “You were driving me insane…so fucking warm and tight for me.”
Gojo worked you open with his cock and you couldn’t help the sounds that came out of you, quiet whimpers and pleas of his name, ‘satoru, slow down a bit for me’, and he did reluctantly but not before giving a few harsh thrusts into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around him, taking him in deeper and he groaned in your ear with a shudder as he gripped onto your thighs.
“Stay just like that.” He whined in a merciful tone, his face now adjacent to yours and he gave you a spirited kiss, licking into your mouth with every damned thrust into your poor cunt. You both moaned into the kiss and he suddenly broke away to hoist your legs over his shoulders instead. “Actually… fuck, this so much better.”
Gojo was able to aim dead against your sweet spot that lingered in the corners of your nerves and you arched as he did so, each perfect thrust relentlessly hitting it and your vision clouded with unbridled pleasure. He looked so godlike above you, sweat glistening against his chest and his white hair had begun to look quite damp with the same moisture, falling beautifully over his eyes; those were on another level and you had to look away so you didn’t cum too quickly.
“All for me? Say it’s all for me.” He had started to beg, ecstasy coursing through both of you now and all you cared about was your releases, the euphoric pressure climbing up your spines with every strike of his hips against yours.
“All for you, -toru...” You babbled out as Gojo started rutting into you harshly, a quick rhythm picking up and your fingers welded into the sheets to keep yourself from hitting your head against the headboard. Your orgasm came crashing through you and you clenched around him as he buried into you with desperation.
“Fuck yeah, all for me.” His mouth dropped open with a low drawn out groan and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, his eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm cascaded through him. He shallowly pumped into you, mixing the cum with your arousal and you whimpered at the feeling as you came down from your high. He pulled out with a quiet sigh, gently bringing himself down to kiss you promptly and laying on top of you with his head on your chest.
A couple minutes later, you felt his fingers trace over your burn mark that had scarred over on your arm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
You looked down at him, his eyes fixated on the mark and you tousled his hair a bit as you smiled at him. Exhaustion had begun to take over your senses and you yawned as you spoke. “It’s okay, I’m just happy that you were on the same train.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Gojo was quiet, his eminence surrounding you in a veil. “Please don’t leave.”
“I wasn’t going to in the first place. You had already changed my mind when you said something about me not surviving in the clan.”
He was quiet for a minute, registering what you just said. Then, you heard a cheeky laugh erupt from him.
“So, my dick wasn’t what changed your mind, huh. Guess we have to start over, don’t we?” He said with a smirk holding in his voice and everything he had just felt, the sorrow and the panic disappeared as he started to kiss down your chest. He pinned your wrists down as he hauled himself back into a good position, face to face with you. Maybe you could get used to the piercing brightness of his eyes, the turquoise loving and cordial and everything in between staring back at you in the way you’ve always wanted.
“Gojo Satoru, you’ve got quite a big ego don't you?”
“Perks of being the one and only.” He pressed a light kiss on your lips, his hands brushing over your body. “Well, maybe not for long.”
a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!
#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦#𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 ✧#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#gojo x y/n#gojo smut#gojo jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojo x female reader#gojo x you#gojo x#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#fem reader#𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰
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