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whiskeyandwant · 18 hours ago

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Shear Luck | joel miller x f!reader | part:2 {18+ minors DNI} [part.1]

|part 2| Smoke and Smirnoff | 2.8k words| Joel Miller, a single dad, came into your salon for a haircut, but he never expected to leave with a crush. Sarah's alive, tension's are high, the jokes are bad and the chemistry is crazy!

Fluff ?✔️ Slow burn? ✔️ Age gap? ✔️ Puns? ✔️

sprinkle in a little bit of smut 🔥 and dbf!joel energy and BOOM. You got this sweet-feel good fic.

“You open the fridge door, catching the pack of Smirnoff Ice in there—giving you a dumb idea and you snicker to yourself, giddy like a teen. ‘Hey—’ You grab the drinks and whip around, launching one in his direction ‘Get Iced big guy!’ He leans for it, stumbling a bit into the counter but catches the bottle and gives you an unimpressed look—but you can see the smile creeping underneath. ‘You’re a menace, know that?’ he says, twisting off the cap and getting down on one knee. ‘You ever act your age before?" |A/N I'm so happy that y'all liked the first part of this lil series, your comments and reblogs are giving me life!! (plz gimme more) This story is so cute and self-indulgent for me, I'm having an absolute blast with it!!! hope you like this next part! 🥹

Warnings: Mild language, flirting, fluff, puns, age gap (Joel's 38, reader's 23). eventual smut, alcohol use, YEARNING.

The backyard is chaos, with hordes of kids from the block running around, throwing bocce balls like baseballs, splashing in the pool, and screaming. The grill is hot, smoke filling the air, your dad stands beside it smiling big, Corona in one hand, spatula in the other; flipping burger after burger.

You and Kim are lounging in camping chairs next to the fence, half covered by the shade, with drinks in hand. You’ve been catching up on gossip, you—work, her—school, it's a good day, easy, warm. A playlist of stomp-and-holler, country, and as always—dad rock blaring through speakers, one of your dad's favourite mixes. The drinks are going down easy and nobody’s blown themselves up yet, so it’s wins all around—until your stomach drops.

Sarah sees you before he does, and she tugs his arm—hard, skipping towards you. You turn, locking your eyes with Kim, who gives you a questioning look, then moves her eyes up to them, quickly making the connection.

He looks even better in natural light, no fluorescence to dull the golden hue of his skin, his hair glows amber in the sunlight; which looks fuckin’ perfect still, thanks to you… and pomade.

He’s swapped his regular uniform of jeans and flannel for the BBQ equivalent, some kinda’ athletic shorts, and a very ‘dad-coded’’ button down. He looks a little like a tourist, but a hot tourist nonetheless.

“Oh no fucking way, that’s him isn’t it?” She says, jaw wide, then smiling at you.”God damn, girl, dilf is right! I’d hit it!”

“I knew he looked familiar. ‘Course he's fuckin’ buddies with my Dad—so cool—love this for me.” Your throat feels dry, stomach woozy, and it's not from the heat or the vodka.

Your eyes connect from across the yard—shifty like you don’t know if you should act like strangers or not, Sarah would blow that one pretty quickly anyway.

You slam what's left of your drink and brace for impact, they’re closing in quick, and you try to shake it off and act cool.

“Hey, trouble,” he says, his smile too fuckin’ smug right now, “told you you’d figure it out,”

“If you wanted to see me outside of the shop you could have just asked, Joel, didn't need to stalk me to my damn house,” you bite, holding back your own grin, head shaking in disbelief.

You reach for Sarah, tugging her close and covering her ears, looking up at him to say “un-fuckin-believable!” just loud enough for her not to hear you.

He just smiles, shit-eating grin on his face like he’s proud, like he's won some game—Sarah pipes up, “Dad you’re staring again, weirdo, stop flirting.”

Joel looks down at her and glares, dad mode setting in, “go play with the other kids, brat.” but he can’t keep his face straight. He's smiling through harsh words, face flushing “Beat it before I throw you in the pool.” Sarah just lets out a huff, rolls her eyes at him, and walks towards a group of girls sitting on the edge of the pool.

“So you’re the old guy.” Kim chimes, “I’m Kim,” she holds her hand out towards him and you shoot her a death glare.

That little bitch!

Joel’s expression falters for a second, but he still gives Kim a firm handshake before shifting his gaze to yours, “Old guy? Damn, kid. I’m hurt.” he says, pouting and clutching his chest. He looks back to Kim, “What's she been sayin’ bout’ me? I bet you she's lyin’.”

Kim stares back at you, half-apology, half-mischief in her eyes. “Not, tellin', don’t think she was lying though.” She lifts her hand to her mouth, motioning like she's zipping it closed and throwing the key away.

The backyard continues to hum, more neighbors trickling in as the afternoon goes on. Kids shrieking, playlist pumping out Eagles and Van Halen like it's a legal requirement, firecrackers popping. You’re perched on the edge of your camping chair, Kim’s smirking beside you, and Joel’s standing there, with—you guessed it, his hands in his fucking pockets again. He’s looking far too good in the afternoon light, thanks to you and your expert eye for detail when it comes to men’s grooming. Sarah’s playing marco polo in the pool with her new crew, leaving the three of you sitting in this weird little triangle of tension and teasing.

Eventually, your dad wanders over, Corona sweating in one hand, spatula waving like a conductor in the other. He takes a good look at Joel, squinting and tilting his head. “Who did that to your hair man? Shoulda’ let her do it,” he points to you with his beer, “looks like someone let Edward Scissorhands loose on you, bet she could fix you up.”

Joel's eyebrows shoot up, he rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tic you’ve already clocked as his tell. “That so? Maybe I should try her out, huh?” His eyes dart to you, quickly, like he’s trying to test the waters.

You choke on your beer laughing, leaning forward in your chair, tipping it on the front feet.

Yeah, no fuckin way I'm letting that slide, fat chance.

“Ouch, thanks for that one, asshole. Guess we can call me Eddie from now on.” You shoot your dad a mock glare before you swing it back to Joel, smirking. “You don’t gotta play dumb for me, Miller, let him have a taste of his own foot—I saved your life with that haircut and we all know it.”

Your dad blinks, looking at you dumbfounded while the gears turn in his hopp-filled brain.

“Wait, you cut it? How the hell do y’all know each other?” he asks.

“So, there's this thing about being a hairdresser, dad. You sometimes cut strangers' hair,” it comes out real cocky, “and then eventually, they stop being strangers and turn into clients, and sometimes they happen to be buddies with you!” You explain it real slow, like he's six—just to piss him off.

“You’re a fuckin’ smart ass, kid. When did this happen?” his eyebrows are raised, facing Joel instead of you now.

“Went in a few weeks back, then the other day, Sarah’s been on my ass for looking like a lumberjack, and your kid’s pretty good with the scissors, didn’t lose an ear or nothin’!”

“Pretty good,” you mock his drawl, leaning in a bit closer so your knee is brushing his shin, “I made you go from looking like someone got at you with a weed-wacker, to a pretty solid candidate for a GQ cover. You’re fuckin’ welcome, by the way.

Kim’s vibrating with laughter in her chair, slapping her knees, “She’s got you pegged, Joel, I knew she was right when she—” You elbow her in the stomach before she says another word. You don’t need her incriminating you further, especially not with your dad around.

Joel’s lips twitch into a smile, showing off that dumb dimple, “GQ huh? Damn, that's why you charged me double, huh?”

“Damn, straight! Deserved every fuckin’ penny too,” you fire back at him, grinning, “can’t forget that I also had to put up with your grumpy ass. Twice—and the sawdust, it's like you dunk your head in it for fun or something.”

Your dad laughs, thoroughly entertained by the banter between the two of you, having but a clue of how hard y'all are flirting right now.

Bless his heart, sweet, sweet, summer chi—dad.

“I shoulda’ told you to go see her sooner, maybe you’d ave a girlfriend by now.” He nudges Joel’s shoulder playfully, “Glad you found the best in town! She’s been doin’ my hair since she was old enough to hold scissors without cutting her knuckles off.”

Joel just nods, playing it cool, but his eyes linger on you too long. “Guess I got pretty lucky, maybe I’ll have to set up monthly appointments—get me that girl you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” His eyes dart to yours, stupid sparkle in them.

I hate this old man…I need him.

“Oh please do.” You say in a sickeningly sweet, mocking voice. “You keep coming in every three weeks and I’ll be able to save enough to open my own shop,” you wink, “plus, I think Sarah’d appreciate not being seen with a raggamuffin at school drop-off.”

Your dad keeps laughing, slapping his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Yeah man, better keep her on speed dial. She’s got magic hands!” He wanders back to the grill, that's smoking considerably more now.

“Magic hands, huh?” Joel mutters, low enough that only you and Kim can catch it, his drawl teasing you.

You lean into him, real close smirking, “Don’t you remember purring when I washed your hair? Don’t act like you didn’t already know I know how to use em’.”

Kim giggles, dramatically fanning herself before standing up and announcing, “I’m gonna leave you kids alone, feels like I’m… interrupting.” She gives you a cheeky grin like she's saying ‘get it, girl’. “If you need me, I’ll be getting drunk, I came here to drink and eat, not be a third wheel.” She stumbles her way towards the house, not bothering to look back, saying “Don’t do anything I wouldn't do!

“Pretty low bar, Kimberley!” you holler back, and Joel snorts.

You watch her nearly break an ankle on a bocce ball as she looks over her shoulder, before half screaming, “Use protection!” Shaking her head all the way inside.

You cringe, checking to see if your dad noticed her—but he’s distracted, yelling at some kid to stop throwing watermelon rinds in the pool. Your hand meets your face in embarrassment, feeling the heat creep to it before you get the courage to look at Joel again. When you do he's still grinning like an idiot.

“Sorry they’re—”

“Fun!.” He interrupts you. You can see a faint blush crawling up his neck and he reaches for his nape again.

“Yup… that's a word for it.”

You slouch back in your chair and Joel offers to grab you another drink, which you immediately accept. You watch as he walks over to the pool to check on Sarah, who’s on some kid’s shoulders, playing chicken, curls slick to the side of her face, beaming with joy.

You find yourself staring, and then smiling as you watch him knock her off the kid’s shoulders, embarrassing her. When she resurfaces from the water, she splashes him and shakes her curls like a dog after a bath; spraying water damn near all the way over to you.

After a few minutes, he comes back, drinks in hand, pulling the chair next to you closer and settling in, “You’re trouble, you know that?” he says, voice dropping low, taking a swig of his beer.

“Only the good kind,” you say, nudging his knee with yours. “So, when you gonna stop playing coy and ask me out to dinner like a grown-up?” you ask him like it's no big deal, thanks to the booze in your blood.

He chuckles, shaking his head, molasses eyes shimmering in the waning sunlight.

“We’ll see darlin', be patient.”

The yard is still buzzing, a constant stream of burgers and hotdogs leaving the grill, it feels like the whole town has been through to eat dinner tonight; you’re surprised Dad hasn't had to change the propane tank. The sun starts to dip down low, casting warm shadows over the grass. You and Joel sit, drinking, knees touching, watching the sunset slowly getting painted like some instructional Bob Ross scene—happy little streaks of pink and gold filling the Austin sky.

You’re half-buzzed, feeling bold enough to push, so you do. “Patience huh? Pretty rich coming from a man who fidgets as much as you.” You point at his hand, tapping away at the beer bottle, and then you place your hand to stop the absentminded shaking of his knee.

“Hey now,” he looks at you, furrowing his brows and pouting. “Gotta keep em’ busy, idle hands, trouble—you know the drill.”

“Oh yeah, I’m the trouble expert here, we established that,” you giggle. A young boy sprints through the narrow gap between you two, holding a sparkler, damn near lighting one of you on fire as he does, causing you both to flinch. “Fuckin’ warzone out here!”

He chuckles, looking toward the pool to find Sarah, she's wrapped up in a towel. Hanging with a gaggle of kids her age blowing bubbles, all with popsicle mustaches—red 40 for sure.

“Is anyone even running this circus at this point?” you ask.

Joel points to your dad, who’s on hour four of standing at the grill, batting a kid's hand away from grabbing a hotdog with his bare hands off the grates. “Don’t think so, might need a new ringleader.”

“I vote you do it, you even look the part, I'm sure we could find one of those stupid jackets!” you wheeze rocking your chair, “Can picture it perfectly, top hat n’ everything.”

Joel just laughs, shaking his head at the ground and smiling, muttering a low “stupid fuckin’ jokes.”

You both just watch the chaos for a minute before you groan, “Okay circus master, need a top-up, wanna be a hero?” You flip your empty beer bottle upside down, looking at him for an answer, “Or are you scared to leave me out here unsupervised?”

“Scared of you, maybe,” he drawls, standing with a groan, “c’mon let’s go raid the stash, less likely to get a sparkler in the eye inside.” You jump up off the chair, smoothing out your dress as you do. He whips his head towards the house and grabs you by the shoulder, close enough for you to smell that familiar pine, mixed with a hint of beer from his breath. “Lead the way.”

You both stumble towards the house. Keeping your eyes on the ground, avoiding the full water balloons, half-full paper cups, and kids' toys that have made a minefield out of the yard as you do. His arm falls from your shoulders and he hesitates—hovering right at the small of your back, you scan the yard and find Kim, with a group of old friends from high school, giving you a nod and a wink as you walk into the kitchen.

You click the door shut, sighing as the sweet relief of air-conditioning hits you, noticing the way your ears are ringing in the silence, it's been a long day of screaming kids and Springsteen.

You open the fridge door, catching the pack of Smirnoff ice in there—giving you a dumb idea and you snicker to yourself, giddy like a teen. “Hey—” You grab the drinks and whip around, launching one in his direction “Get Iced big guy!”

He leans for it, stumbling a bit into the counter but catches the bottle and gives you an unimpressed look—but you can see the smile creeping underneath.

“You’re a menace, know that?” he says, twisting off the cap and getting down on one knee. “You ever act your age before?” You mimic his movements, getting down on the floor in front of him yourself, eyes gleaming as you clink his bottle with yours.

“Nope, not once, now drink up, cowboy!” you say, slamming down the drink. You keep eye contact as you chug down the sweet cooler, both trying desperately not to laugh—Smirnoff out the nose is bad fuckin’ news. Joel finishes his first, shaking his head at you, but the lines at the corner of his eyes don’t lie. You finish yours right after him, hiccuping as you do so.

You both kneel there for a second, laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes and he reaches forward—hand cupping your cheek, wiping away one of your tears. Your heart barely has a beat to skip, he yanks you towards him, lips pressing against yours. You’re shocked, a startled gasp swallowed by the kiss, you push back towards him—desperate, hungry, reaching your free hand up to his hair, tugging. He tastes like fruit and hops, kissing you like he’s been holding it in all damn day. It was quick, chaotic, all teeth and —till it was interrupted by the swinging of the back door.

“Shit.” You both say it at the same time.

You lurch back from each other, still on one knee with your empty bottles in hand, you get up off the floor quickly as a feet tap and a voice chimes.

“Dad! Fireworks! They’re starting!” Sarah cuts through as you stifle a laugh, cheeks on fire. Her curls are still wet, plastered to her face, and thankfully she's oblivious to the scene. “C’mon, can’t miss them!”

Joel runs a hand through his hair, neck pink, face flustered. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way, brat.”

She grabs both of your arms and tugs you toward the yard.

Your dad’s voice booms through the crowd “Fireworks people! Let's get a move on!” and you stumble towards the crowd, heart hammering, lips still tingling—left wondering how the hell you’re supposed to keep playing it casual now.

#dbf!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joelmiller #joel miller x you #tlou smut #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #tlou x reader #tlou au #joel miller fluff #joelmiller

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wbbpls · 5 hours ago

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Crossing the Line One Last Time

Word count: 3k Warnings: Sexual Content

thank you to ⚡️ who gave me this one-shot prompt! I hope it does your request justice. as usual yap away and lmk what y'all think

It’s been a long few months since Azzi joined Paige at Uconn. Of course, Paige is ecstatic that she’s finally her teammate and can see her every day outside of a FaceTime call. The issue isn’t having Azzi around. It’s having Azzi around but not being able to have her.

Both girls knew there was more between them, but the distance allowed them to push the narrative of being close best friends. However, during Paige’s senior year of high school, she visited Azzi over winter break, and they crossed a line they’re unsure how to return from. Every lingering touch, late night talk, and cuddle session led to their first, well, everything.

Virginia, 2019

“What do you wanna watch tonight?”

“Whatever you want, Az, I picked last night.”

“Love and basketball?”

“Again?”

“You said I could pick!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Paige and Azzi set the movie up and settled under the covers. Each night, they naturally gravitated closer to each other, and tonight was no exception. Azzi wrapped her arm around Paige, inviting her in. Paige happily rested her head on Azzi’s shoulder, trying to work up the courage to wrap her arms around her. As they watched the movie, Azzi kept rubbing her hands through Paige’s hair or up and down her back. It was driving Paige crazy because she wanted so much more.

Finally, Paige convinced herself to move her hand to touch Azzi. She almost wrapper her arm around Azzi’s stomach but was worried it was too intimate. Instead, she let her hand fall onto Azzi’s thigh, and Paige realized this was, if anything, a worse option. She was trying not to be so apparent in her panic, so she didn't move her hand.

Azzi slightly tensed under Paige and continued to rub her back. Paige is naturally a fidgety person, so adding anxiety to the mix is a rough combination. To calm herself, she began to rub her thumb back and forth on Azzi’s skin. Now Azzi is the one to fidget, slightly opening her legs and shifting down the bed slightly. This movement pushes Paige’s hands under the bottom of Azzi’s shorts, and both of them take a deep breath.

Azzi continues to rub Paige’s shoulder, only this time, she moves under her shirt. Paige couldn’t help but let out a content sigh, taking in the feeling of Azzi all over her. Paige looked up to see Azzi already looking down at her, and she grips Azzi’s thigh, watching her eyes dilate in response. Azzi moves her other hand to push the hair out of Paige’s face. Before they know it, they’re leaning forward, closing the gap, and changing their friendship forever.

After Paige left, they started to talk even more, if that were possible, and planned visits as often as they could. They never labeled themselves; understanding the distance complicated everything. Once Paige started at UConn, they continued their friends with benefits, keeping everything casual.

Well, their version of casual. They spoke daily, fell asleep on Facetime together, Azzi visited for long weekends, and Paige sent flowers and gifts when she missed her. To anyone else, they were in a relationship.

Before Azzi joined Paige at UConn, Azzi visited Paige last time. She noticed how many girls threw themselves at Paige and suddenly wondered if she was just another one of those girls. She can’t be. She won’t let herself be. So, she brought up their situation.

“So, uh, it’s going to be different now with me there all the time.”

“I mean, yeah, but like in a good way. I’m so excited, Az.” Paige smiled softly at her, almost making Azzi change her mind.

“We’ve just been casual about all of this, and I don’t know...doesn’t being teammates change all that?”

“What are you saying?”

“It’s just that we really need to focus on basketball and not bring anything messy into the team dynamic. Everyone will be looking at me as a freshman, and if anything goes wrong between us, it will be my fault.”

“What? No, that won’t happen at all, Azzi.”

“You don’t know that. Plus, there are plenty of girls throwing themselves at you. I don’t need to be mixed up in all of that.”

Paige wondered if this was because Azzi was pushing other girls on her because she didn't want to be with Paige like that. Be with her openly. “Oh, uh, okay. Yeah.”

“We’re still us, though, right?”

“Of course, Az. Still us.”

Storrs, CT 2020

They are definitely still Paige and Azzi. In fact, they are still doing everything they did before without the benefit of hooking up. Anytime they feel themselves slipping, they find an excuse to be elsewhere.

Their teammates tease Paige relentlessly for how whipped she is when it comes to Azzi, but she can’t help it. She’s trying to respect Azzi’s wishes, but it gets harder each day. She never understood why she wasn’t enough for Azzi, but people tend to want to experiment in college, and Paige never wanted to get in the way of Azzi. It’s just so confusing that she ended their situationship to still end up in Paige’s bed, cuddling her every night.

It’s now January, and the girls just got back to school from winter break. Paige and Azzi still spoke daily, but over break, Paige realized she couldn’t keep doing this. They needed to act like friends so Paige could try to move on.

Paige missed Azzi so much but tried to distance herself the best she could. She shortened their hugs, moved away from lingering touches, and purposefully sat next to her other teammates. If Azzi wanted her to treat her like any other teammate, then that’s precisely what Paige would do.

Of course, Azzi noticed. It was hard not to feel empty without the blonde next to her. The team found themselves at Ted’s, excited to see each other after the long break. Paige started the night strong with shots, being the life of the party as usual. Azzi stayed close to Caroline, uncomfortable with the distance Paige was putting between them.

“Hey, Carol, do you think Paige is acting weird?”

“Hmm, I don't know. She seems fine.”

“It’s just different.”

“I mean, she’s not being clingy and all over you like she usually is when she’s drunk.”

“It just feels like she’s avoiding me but acting like everything’s fine.”

“Did something happen over break?”

“No? I mean, she didn’t text or call me as much, but I assumed she was spending extra time with her family.”

The night continued with little interaction for the two girls. At this point, Paige is drunk when a girl named Maya leans in close and starts talking to her. She was pretty, nice, and funny. She was a few inches shorter than Azzi, with similar curly hair and skin complexion. Although she didn’t have an athletic build like Azzi, she had a similar clothing style, almost down to a T.

The alcohol is making it much harder for Paige to think straight. This beautiful girl doesn’t care about anyone but Paige, but she’s not Azzi. Paige would give anything for Azzi to come over right now and take Paige home with her, but she won’t because she doesn't want Paige like that. Not in the way Paige wants Azzi. She reminded herself that she needs to move on and this is the perfect opportunity.

Azzi tried to focus on her friends, but when she noticed a girl standing way too close to Paige, she couldn't see anything else.

“Earth to Azzi!” Caroline stepped in front of her view of Paige, blocking her from the view of her own personal hell. “Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“Uh, y-yeah. Fine.”

Caroline followed Azzi’s line of sight to see Paige with her hands around another girl’s waist. “She’s really got a type, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t be serious right now, Azzi.”

“I’m dead serious. She’s just with some random girl.”

Caroline put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Azzi...you and that girl could be sisters.”

“What so you’re saying I’m Paige’s type? That’s ridiculous.”

“Really, Azzi? When you guys started hooking up in high school, no one else existed for her. You broke thing off—”

“She agreed!”

“I know, but you ended it, Az. You can’t be upset she’s with other girls.”

Azzi looks back at the blonde only to see her lean in and kiss that girl. Azzi knew Paige flirted with people, but she never really pushed it in front of Azzi. It was like an unspoken rule that was just abruptly crossed. Azzi’s head started spinning, and she felt sick watching it. She knows Caroline is right, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“And that right there is why I ended it!”

“C’mon, Azzi, she doesn’t actually care about her.”

As soon as that comes out of Caroline’s mouth, both girls see Paige leaving the bar with the girl, leaving them to assume she’s going home with her. KK yelling, “Get it, Paaaiiiiiggggeee!” definitely didn’t help deny that assumption.

Caroline knows that Azzi ended things with Paige, thinking she was doing her a favor. Assuming Paige wanted all these other girls when all she wanted was Azzi. Still, she hated seeing her best friend so hurt. “Why don’t we call it a night and have some wine and ice cream in our apartment?”

Seeing Paige kissing that girl with so much passion hurt. The way she held her hips, moved her hair, smiled at her, all if it just hurt. That should be Azzi, and Azzi of all people knows she’s the one who stopped that from happening.

Honestly, Azzi panicked when she ended things. They never defined their relationship, and everyone talks about how you need to “explore” when you go to college. All things girls were constantly throwing themselves at Paige, and she felt like she was just in the way. What if Paige never explored with other people, and what if, years down the line, she regretted wasting her time with Azzi?

Azzi tried to date other people, but she found herself yearning for Paige more and more every time. So, seeing Paige kiss that girl with her own eyes felt like proof that Paige wanted other girls. Proof that Paige doesn’t want her the way Azzi wants her.

===================================================

The next morning...

Azzi woke up with a headache from the mix of alcohol and crying and an arm wrapped around her stomach. Confused, Azzi looks behind her, shocked to see Paige fast asleep, and the memories of last night come flooding in, drowning her in regrets of ever letting Paige go.

But what is she doing here? When did she come? The blonde cuddles further in, squeezing Azzi tight, making her heart swell. This isn’t fair. How if she going to go home with another girl and then come to Azzi’s bed? Azzi moves Paige’s hand off her to get out of bed, but it wakes Paige up.

“Mornin’ Az.”

Azzi tries to ignore how her raspy voice and bright blue eyes make her feel. “What are you doing here, Paige?” Azzi crosses her arms and leans on the top of her desk.

The harshness in Azzi’s voice quickly woke Paige’s brain up. She sits up in bed and in the softest voice says, “I really missed you.”

“Yeah, sure. Okay.” Azzi scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Why you bein’ like that, Az?”

“Me?! What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re really going to fuck some girl, and then come to sleep in my bed? Do you even get how fucked up that is?”

Paige started to panic and jumped out of bed towards the younger girl. “Wait, what? No Azzi, it’s not what y—”

“Also, why do you need to pick a girl that looks weirdly like me? Like, are you trying to rub it in my face?”

“Azzi, no I—”

“You could at least have the fucking decency not to shove your tongue down her throat right in front of me!”

“Woah, wait. I didn’t know—”

“I’m so fucking dumb! I thought I was doing the right thing, okay? I thought you’d say you didn’t want to be with anyone else. But I’m the idiot that gets you in my bed after you get fu—”

Paige lunges forward grabbing Azzi’s cheeks and kissing her hard. As if a reflex, Azzi grabs the taller girls hips pulling her to kiss her back. Paige moves her hand to grab at the base of Azzi’s neck, deepening the kiss. When Azzi feels Paige’s tongue swiping her bottom lip, she quickly pulls back as the sensation brings her back to reality.

“Paige you can’t just come in here an—”

“Azzi, would you just let me speak for one second!” Paige is exasperated and flushed. “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. I came here last night because all I wanted was you. No matter how hard I try to not want you it’s all I fucking want.”

“Y-you want me?”

“Of course I do, Azzi! I try so hard to show you how much I care about you, but I don’t know what to do anymore and I’ve just been trying to move on, but I can’t. I tried to make it feel like just friends over break and I hated it. I can’t pretend like what we had is just some fling.”

“You’re saying all this but you literally fucked some girl last night.”

“How do you know?”

“I watched you leave with her, Paige. I’m not dumb.”

“I told you, Az, I tried to move on. Not that I actually did. Yeah, I kissed her at the bar, but it just felt so fucking wrong. I didn’t even want to be there anymore, but she was really drunk, so I called her an Uber, and when I came back inside to find yo,u KK told me you already left.”

“You came back?” Azzi practically whispered it, shocked at how the night actually went.

“I needed to talk to you, but then Ice and KK were sayin’ you was all mad at me, and I was so confused. I tried to sleep, but I felt so fucking empty with you, Azzi. I don’t want anyone else. I know all this shit feels complicated but it doesn’t need to be. Please, Az, I love you.”

Azzi looked at Paige, processing everything she said. That she loves Azzi. She spent so much of last night crying over something that didn’t even happen. Would things be different if she hadn’t left last night?

The fear and insecurity begin to take over Paige’s body at the silence she got in return. The sight of Paige questioning if she’s loved back kicked Azzi into drive. It felt like a line was dividing them, stopping them from fully being with each other. But Azzi couldn’t take it anymore. She decided to cross the line one last time and pull Paige in for a kiss. Paige immediately responded, grabbing Azzi’s hip and the side of her jaw. They kissed as if they’d never have the chance again. But it was the opposite. It was a kiss saying, finally. A kiss that said everything they’d been feeling. A kiss that feels like coming home.

Between kisses, Azzi finally says it back. “I love you so much, Paige.”

Paige tasted salt from the tears they both shed, signaling the relief they both felt. “I’m so sorry, P. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know, baby. Me too.” Paige finds Azzi’s lips again, slowly kissing her, taking it all in. Very quickly, the kiss becomes needy. Paige walks Azzi backwards until she hits her desk, then grabs the back of her legs to place her on top of the desk. Paige stands directly between Azzi’s legs as she kisses down to her neck.

“Paige, please.” Azzi is breathless already, keeping Paige in place on her neck and pulling her closer.

“Please what, baby?”

“Please. Fuck. I need you.”

“Tell me what you want.” Paige pulls back, eyes dilated and hooded. Azzi looks up at Paige, breathing heavily, taking in the scene in front of her.

“I want your mouth so bad.”

“It’s all yours, mama.”

Paige smirks and returns back to Azzi’s neck as she grabs at the boxer shorts Azzi is wearing, leaving her in an oversized t-shirt and underwear. “I gotta feel you, baby,” Paige says as she pulls her shirt over her head, immediately grabbing Azzi’s breasts and sucking her nipples.

“Fuck that feels so good.”

“Mmm, I promise I’m gonna make you feel amazing, babygirl.”

Paige keeps moving down Azzi’s body, stopping just above her panty line to appreciate the wet spot on her underwear. “That for me, mama?”

Azzi is desperate for friction and antsy to feel Paige’s mouth.

“Yes, only for you, please Paige, fuck I need your mouth.”

Paige quickly discards the offending fabric and dives into Azzi’s pussy. They’ve both waited long enough. Azzi let out an uncontrolled moan at the feeling of Paige’s tongue and grabbed the back of her head, pushing her closer into her and pulling at her hair. Each time Azzi gripped tighter on Paige’s hair, she could feel Paige’s moans ripple through her body.

Paige slips two fingers into Azzi with no resistance. “You feel so good takin’ my fingers like that pretty girl.”

“Oh my god. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” Azzi is saying Paige’s name like a mantra, feeling her fingers curl deep inside of her and tongue flicking on her clit. A feeling Azzi wasn’t sure she’d ever feel again. When she looks down, Paige’s eyes are a dark blue, dilated and she eats Azzi out like it’s her last meal. The eye contact pushed Azzi over the edge as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She needs Paige close, so she grabs at her hair and shoulders to pull her up into a passionate kiss. Azzi moans at the taste of herself on Paige’s tongue.

Paige inserts a third finger and Azzi’s mouth drops open as she takes in the new feeling. “Mmm, that feels so good. You’re so fuck hot, baby.” They stare into each other's eyes and share breaths with their foreheads touching.

“I love you so fuckin’ much, princess. I promise I’m gonna make you feel good for the rest of our lives.”

Paige had always been one for talking when they had sex, but something about declaring their love forever sent a warmth through Azzi she’d never felt before. She’s gripping and scratching at Paige’s back so hard she won't be shocked to see marks tomorrow.

“You so tight for me, babygirl. You feel so fuckin’ good.” Paige starts moving her fingers at a faster pace, pushing in deeper each time. Azzi squeezes her legs around Paige, and her hips jolt, desperate for a release. Everything is falling off the desk, but Azzi doesn’t have it in her to care right now.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god. Oh my god.”

“You not gonna come until I say so. Okay?”

“I need you. Please let me come, baby.” Azzi is trying her best to hold her orgasms until Paige says so, but it feels like everything is spilling over.

“Look at me, Az.” Azzi struggled to open her eyes, especially because the sight of Paige’s eyes, pussy drunk and desperate to make Azzi feel good, could honestly make Azzi come alone. After a beat, Paige whispers, “You’re everything to me, my love. I promise I’ll give you everything I've got.”

Through moans and screams, Azzi manages to speak, “I l-love you s-so fucking much, Paige.”

“Aight, baby, come for me now. Let me feel how good I fucked you.” That sent Azzi over the edge, screaming Paige’s name, shaking as the climax took over her body.

Once she stilled, Paige pulled her fingers out of Azzi, never losing eye contact, and slipped her fingers into her mouth.

“Mmm, you taste so good, Az.”

Azzi can’t help herself. She grabs Paige to kiss her again and starts pushing her towards the bed. Once Paige falls backwards into the pillows, Azzi pulls off her boxers and shirt before straddling the older girl. They both moan at the contact as Azzi starts to ride Paige’s thigh, hitting Paige’s clit just right.

“Fuck. Fuck. Don’t stop, baby.” Paige helps Azzi by moving her hips back and forth to add more pressure for them both. After eating Azzi out, Paige was already so turned on. So now, watching Azzi ride her might actually kill her.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last that long.” Paige's hips are moving fast and hard to get as much of Azzi as possible. Azzi shifts to kiss Paige. Their tongues battle for dominance while their hips have a mind of their own and their legs start shaking. They grasp onto each other like a lifeline, moaning each other’s names until Azzi flops on top of Paige like dead weight.

The girls take in the silence other than the sound of their breathing. Paige rubs up and down Azzi’s back gently.

“Hey, Az?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really sorry I didn’t fight harder for you.” Azzi shifts her head to rest on the palm of her hand and look down at Paige.

While brushing the blonde strands out of her face, Azzi responds, “No, baby, I’m sorry. I should have been more honest with you. I was just so scared about messing everything up that I think I kinda did anyway.”

“Now that I got you, I’m not letting you go. You’re stuck with me, my love.” Azzi’s heart flutters at the term of endearment.

“Gladly.”

Vibrations from Azzi’s phone go off next to them. She sees a bunch of mixed texts from Caroline.

Scissor Sister ✂️: heyyy so sounds like y’all made up...

Scissor Sister ✂️: so so happy for you

Scissor Sister ✂️: but any chance you can make up a little quieter and maybe you know NOT at 7 AM?? I really don’t need to hear about what Paige can do with her tongue

Paige and Azzi burst out laughing at the texts, realizing they had totally forgotten about other people living in the apartment. There’s a lightness in the room with them that hasn’t been there since they ended things almost a year ago.

“So, Az, do you, uh, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Obviously, Paige.” Azzi rolled her eyes, kissing her girlfriend tenderly. “I’m done sharing you.”

“Mmm, good, because I don’t want anyone else.”

Azzi didn’t know how badly she needed to hear Paige say those words until now. Finally, things feel like they’re starting to fall into place.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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inksoakedparchment · 3 days ago

Text

TEACH ME

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader

genre: smut

trope: teacher x student

word cunt: 936

tw: AGE GAP, smut, dirty talk (please scroll if you don’t like these things)

a/n: smash

masterlist

It’s your last year in high school, you’re already an adult - you’re eighteen years old - but also a teenager with a more mature mind than the people your age. And you have a crush on your fucking English teacher. His salt-pepper hair and beard with his muscled body but also he has a tiny stomach. The way his veins hands play with the marker when he doesn’t write on the board or when he bites his lip while searching for the right word. It’s your favourite lecture.

He always gives a story, a novel or an essay for every week and he gives a topic or a word to make you write anything that comes to your mind. Last week’s word was ‘Forbidden’ and you immediately started writing a teacher-student novel. It came out about fifty-two pages. You gave it to him two days ago during the last lecture you had and today? You have English again.

The lesson finishes and you make your way out of the classroom but he calls out.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, Mr. Pascal?” you turn around and look at him.

“Lock the door, please,” he asks you seriously and you do as he asked. “Come here,” he gestures and you stop next to him, dropping your bag on the floor.

“I want to talk about your novel, Miss,” he looks up at you.

“What’s the problem with that?” you raise your eyebrow.

“Nothing just, ‘His dark blue jeans stretch on his perfectly shaped thighs, the white shirt almost rips when he lifts his arm to write on the board, and I just want to bite in those biceps. Mr. P looks like a man who likes to fuck rough and I want to be under him. Or on top of him, I don't care. His salt-pepper hair looks so soft, and the way his brown eyes meet mine when he talks about some age-gap romance, it turns me on. I want to be fucked on his desk. And he does it after the lesson’ about this,” he looks up at you. “Mr. P? Age-gap romances and I think this ‘Mr. P’ is an English teacher. Or am I reading too much into it?” he runs his hand through his hair.

“You’re not,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“It’s inappropriate, Miss Y/L/N,” he shakes his head and sighs.

“The look in your eyes when you see me in skirts, that’s inappropriate. This is just a novel,” you call him out.

“It is?” he runs a hand up on your thigh. “Did you put this short skirt on, because you want to tease your teacher, Miss?” he grips your inner thigh and you gasp.

“I did, sir,” you nod and he stands up, letting your thigh go.

“You’re filthy,” he pushes your head down on his desk. “But you get what you want. You get what your young pussy needs,” he leans to your ear, pressing his crotch to your ass. “A real man’s dick, princess,” he whispers.

Pedro rolls your skirt over your ass and spanks it.

“No underwear? I knew you were a slut. The look in your eyes, the way you’re pressing you’re thighs together during every damn lesson, thinking I didn’t notice,” he scoffs. “I did.”

You hear he pulls his belt out of his jeans and without hesitation, he spanks your butt with a damn belt. Five times on each cheek. You can’t help but moan from the pleasure and pain. He knows exactly what he’s doing and damn you like it.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he traces circles on your hips.

“I want you to teach me how you like to fuck. I want to be sore and I don’t want to walk properly,” you moan out.

“Good girl,” he groans and takes off his trousers.

With a fast, ruthless thrust, he slams his dick into your pussy, stretching you open as he fucks you hard and relentlessly, his pace brutal from the start. The force knocks the breath from your lungs, your body jerking against him, but he doesn’t slow down—he only grips you tighter. His fingers twist into your hair, yanking your head back until your scalp burns, but all you can do is cry out his name, your voice breaking with every punishing thrust.

You can only hope the building is empty because there’s no way in hell you’re being quiet. His other hand slides down, rough fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing you upright against his solid chest. Your head spins as he tightens his grip just enough to steal your air, to remind you who’s in control. His breath is hot against your ear, the low growl of his voice sending shivers through your overstimulated body.

“Take it,” he orders, his teeth grazing your jaw before he drags his mouth down to your throat. His lips crash against your skin, kissing, biting, sucking hard enough to leave marks—proof of how thoroughly he’s claiming you. Your body trembles, helpless against the onslaught, but fuck, you don’t want him to stop. Every rough, punishing thrust sends shockwaves through you, pushing you closer to the edge, your mind unravelling in the pure, raw intensity of him.

“Cum for me, my dirty little secret,” he bites your earlump.

Your eyes roll back in your head and you cum with trembling body, moaning his name while your pussy squeezes his dick and that was the last push for him too. He bites your shoulder as he cums in you.

“You’re mine, understood?” he pants caressing your waist.

“Understood,” you mutter, trying to catch your breath.

#kiara writes #kiara’s fics #ki’s husband #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal one shot

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notapradagurl7 · 22 hours ago

Text

Used To Be.

BlackOC! x Method Man.

Requested by @duhitzkay380

Summary: newly single and divorced, Carla was dropping off her twin daughters for college, not knowing she would bump into a high school sweetheart, Cliff. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one dropping off her kids for college. They decide to rekindle that fire between them.

Warnings: angst, fluff, praise, fingering, oral(fem receiving), consensual intimacy, sweet parent moments, old flames, a lot of fluff.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @kaylaahisthebestest-

@uniqueoutlierblog @mama-2001

@fakxmbj @kaylalb @theereinawrites @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @luckydaye777 @ruewritesoccasionally @sageispunk

—————-

First day of college, well actually it wasn't the first day, it was the move-in process with her twin daughters, Simone and Maya. Carla’s nerves were bubbling from the pits of her stomach, ready to explode any minute. The sleek black truck driving straight on the highway that lead to the campus, passing through the other cars, tinted windows on her vehicle.

Her chestnut brown eyes met theirs through the rearview mirror, there they were, looking out the window while listening to music until they caught their mother gazing aimlessly for the umpteenth time.

Their hair in styled brown box braids, dressed in cozy clothes in the shade of purple and black, their brown skin shone brightly from the sun.

They were heading off to Spelman college, their dream college and the only one they wanted to be in together, their mother hoped that they would be roommates.

“Mom, you're still nervous? It's going to be okay, you taught us everything we knew. We will be fine,” Simone brought up, taking her earbuds out of her eyes.

Carla knew that Simone was right but still she was a mom, she was always gonna worry about her daughters. The world was already cruel enough, quick to judge and didn’t give much grace to black people just as the world did to white people.

White people didn’t even know the luxury they lived in, that bubble of privilege that was made for them.

“Hey, I’m a mom, I’m always gonna worry about y’all, this world isn’t nice. I couldn’t shelter you two when you were young, I had to teach as much as possible to prepare you for every situation,” Carla spoke up, sighing after.

As the car pulled up to the parking lot, coming at complete stop. She unlocked the car door as she heard the clicking sound, as they all got out of the car, her daughters took their bags out, and slammed them shut.

Carla followed behind her twin daughters toward the entrance, opening the doors before heading through, into the office to meet with the principal.

After that meeting, they were given room keys and schedules for their classes, She walked with them, helping them pack up. Once she walked out, there he was.

Her heart swelled with pride for her daughters but was quickly interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Carla?”

She turned, her breath catching in her throat as she recognized the face that had once been so important in her life. Cliff, her high school sweetheart, stood there, looking just as handsome as she remembered.

The memories came flooding back one by one, the good ones.

His dark brown, soulful eyes shone with surprise, and a warm smile spread across his face.

“Cliff! Wow, it’s been… what, over twenty years?” Carla said, trying to suppress the butterflies that erupted in her stomach.

“Yeah, something like that,” he chuckled, stepping closer. “I can’t believe we’re here, at the same time, dropping off our kids. How’s life treating you?”

“Life’s been a rollercoaster,” she replied, glancing back at her daughters who were now chatting with other incoming students. “I just got divorced, so this is a big change for me, you know?”

Cliff’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “I’m sorry to hear that. But look at you, still shining bright. You raised some amazing daughters.”

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you,” she said, her cheeks warming slightly. “How about you? How’s it been?”

“Same boat, actually. I’m a single dad now, too. My son and daughter are starting here as well. We’ve had our challenges, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” he replied, his smile softening as he spoke about his children.

Just then, Simone and Maya approached, their eyes wide with curiosity. “Mom, who’s this?” Maya asked, her head tilting slightly.

“This is Cliff, an old friend of mine,” Carla introduced, feeling a mix of nostalgia and excitement as she looked at him. “He’s here dropping off his kids too.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Cliff said with a friendly grin. “You must be excited to start college!”

Turns their kids were the best of friends, and Cliff ended up explaining to the kids their history, and realize that their mom has been avoiding him, since she is still hurt over their break up.

After that, she bid farewell to the man and her daughters, leaving the man longing for her. Still that fire burned brighter.

The next week, parents were having lunch with their kids, it wasn't only Cliff but Clara as well. Could it be fate bringing them together?

The cafeteria buzzed with overlapping chatter, Carla sat with her daughters as they ate their delicious lunch. All while their mother resumed to stare off into space, while Simone was talking. The kisses, the hugs, the memories came flooding back.

“Mom, are you even listening?” Simone's voice broke through her thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just… thinking,” Carla replied, forcing a smile.

Maya nudged her shoulder playfully. “About Cliff, right? You totally had a moment when you saw him last week!”

Carla rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. “Okay, maybe a little. But he’s just an old friend.”

“He’s not an old friend, mom. Friends don't look at each other like that,” Maya mentioned.

Carla taught her daughters way too much, shaking her head and chuckling. As she saw Cliff with his son and daughter again, “Eat your food, I'll be back,”

Cliff locked eyes with her once again, sitting across from them. They excused themselves and walked toward each other, smiling brightly.

“Hey, how are you Carla?”

“I'm good, it was nice catching up with you,”

“Yeah, it was. The kids are already eager for us to leave them alone,”

“Tell me about it. It feels like just yesterday we were trying to sneak out to go to those late-night parties,” she laughed, recalling the thrill of their youthful adventures.

Cliff chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And getting caught by your mom every time. She never let us live that down.”

“Right? She was relentless,” Carla shook her head, smiling at the memories. “You were always the one trying to convince me to sneak out.”

“Guilty as charged,” he grinned. “But I think it was worth it, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” she said, her heart fluttering at the thought. “So, how are your kids adjusting?”

“Oh, they’re loving it so far. They’re excited about the classes and meeting new people. Just like I was when I first got here,” Cliff said, his voice filled with pride.

“Same with mine. I’m just so proud of them,” Carla replied, glancing back at her daughters who were chatting animatedly with their new friends.

“Speaking of proud, I was thinking… maybe we could get together sometime? Just to catch up, you know?” Cliff suggested, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Her heart raced at the invitation. “I’d like that,” she said, feeling a spark of excitement. “But what about the kids?”

“They’ll be fine. We can arrange it so they’re busy. It’s important for us to reconnect too,” Cliff replied, his smile widening.

“Okay, let’s do it then,” Carla agreed, feeling a surge of hope. “Just as long as it’s not a late-night thing,” she joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Deal,” he laughed. “I’ll text you. And maybe we can relive some of those old memories.”

“Sounds perfect,” she said, her heart fluttering as they exchanged numbers.

After that, the two of them began to go on dates, catching up on their lives as they took a walk in the park after.

“I had a great time with you today, Cliff. It’s been so long,”

“Yeah, i had an amazing time too. Honestly, It’s like we never skipped a beat,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes.

Carla felt her heart leap. “I know what you mean. It’s like we fell right back into our rhythm, but... I feel something more than that.”

Cliff’s expression softened, his gaze intense. “I feel it too. I’ve thought about you a lot over the years, Carla. You were always the one who got away for me.”

“Really?” she asked, a smile breaking across her face. “I thought I was just a chapter in your past.”

“Nah, you were the whole book for me,” he replied, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I never forgot how we used to be. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to reconnect.”

“Cliff, I have been thinking about you since I saw you,” she started, but looks at her gently.

I know we’re both coming out of tough situations, but I can’t help but want this. You and me. Together,” he said, his voice steady and sincere.

“I want that too,” she admitted, feeling a sense of warmth spread through her. “But I don’t want to rush anything. My heart still bears some scars from my past.”

“Totally get that. We can take our time. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company and see where this leads us,” he suggested, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles.

“Okay,” she agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “But we have to keep it low-key for now. You know, for the kids.”

“Of course. They come first. But I’m looking forward to seeing where this goes,” he said, grinning broadly.

“Hey, you think the kids would freak out if they saw us like this?” she asked playfully, glancing up at him.

“Probably,” he chuckled. “But I think they’d be happy to see their parents happy, don’t you?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Carla said, her heart swelling with warmth. “It’s nice to think about building a new future, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” Cliff replied, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at her. “Here’s to new beginnings, Carla.”

“Here’s to us,” she said softly, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked forward together, ready to explore whatever came next.

Once he walked her home after their date, they stood near the front door. Lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes, they leaned in for a passionate kiss. Before pulling away from each other.

“Let’s head inside, yeah?”

They hurried their way inside and locked the door behind them, still kissing each other.

And with that, he took off her leggings alongside her panties while leaving her tee shirt on, she looked the other way until he gripped her chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Eyes on me, baby,”

He ducked his head between her legs, his tongue trailing a wet stripe onto her folds, sucking roughly around her throbbing clit. “Oh..shit, Cliff,” she moaned harshly.

Her faces, moans and his name in between spurred him on, keeping the same steady pace, her folds clung to his fingers, sucking him back in, wetness leaking on his. “Damn,” he whispered.

His fingers slid between her wet folds, his warm breath against her neck sent chills down her spine. He always made her see galaxies instead of stars. Fuck that, the entire solar system.

Her body responds instinctively, arching towards him with a soft moan escaping her lips, “Just like that,” she mumbled, rolling her hips to the pace of his digits.

“You taste amazing, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

His fingers pushed deeper, moving in a ‘come here’ motion, his thumb rolling onto your clit, staying in tune with every heartbeat. “I can't get enough of your pussy grips around me, you’re so beautiful,”

She was close to the edge of her climax, the knot in her stomach tightened and was ready to be pulled apart, and her mouth parted wide open. Her essence gushed onto his fingers once again, replacing his fingers with his mouth, swallowing and licking her pussy clean.

He carried inside the bathroom, and turned the bathtub, as she washed herself clean. After that, she dried herself off and got dressed in her pajamas.

Once the morning arrived, she did her morning routine and walked into the kitchen, her eyes landed on Cliff placing a plate of breakfast food next to another one.

“My bad, I made some breakfast for us, I didn't want you to think that I was gonna leave you,” Cliff reassured softly with a smile.

Carla shook her head with a chuckle, “No, it's fine. I was planning on doing it myself but I'm glad that you didn't leave,”

As she grabbed herself a plate, she kissed the man twice passionately. Enjoying each other’s company more than ever.

————-

#black!reader #black fanfiction #black writer #black!fem!reader #notapradagurl7 #method man x black!reader #method man smut #method man #black fanfic writer #black!oc #black love #tumblr #masterlist

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gravity-falls-fanatic89 · 1 day ago

Text

Everyone deep diving into the Ford hate again needs to step back and think of a few things.

Stan wouldn't have fought to get his brother back from the portal if he didn't love him, even when they were both at their absolute worst. The core of their schism was a terrible mistake that exploded into something even worse from their father being an asshole. Caryn and Filbrick had no faith in Stan being a success, and put a shitty amount of pressure onto Ford. They were literally high school kids.

You're trying to tell me that we should blame Ford for not recognizing abuse from Bill, when he suffered at the hand of his father with it? Hell, you can even see Caryn wasn't wanting to stand up against her own husband....If you're in an environment like that regularly, then it's not abnormal and obvious.

Ford of course saw Bill as a muse in the beginning. He challenged him, and complimented him, for a time as a partner of the mind and science. There was unspoken trust....For a time.

When consent began to disappear, and Ford was in too deep, then he recognized abuse, and his Muse was a Monster. He probably saw Bill as someone to "impress"...Much like his father in the beginning. But when mental and physical violation happened, and Ford was not in control, it's SA. In any relationship of any kind, you should be able to say no without fear of repercussions.

Ford isn't a villain because he didn't recognize abuse immediately, and Bill made it one sided love where he just wanted Ford to be a cooperative vessel and pet in the end. I truly think Bill wouldn't care about Ford once he drained him mentally. The monster destroyed his own home and family...Why would a human being be anything special to him? Humanity is merely a grain of sand in Bill's timeline. Ford would be a blip eventually.

Ford had every right to be mad returning home. Thirty years, nearly 13 of those in which he missed with a great niece and nephew he immediately adores, and a brother that is upset he doesn't get an apology. There is a time and place for that.

But, you can't expect a perfectly fleshed out character with Ford when he was only included in maybe 10 episodes total. Read the books again. Research and go through media of all kinds with SA, and compare them. I hope that most don't have to relate to SA, but can grasp that a victim is never "asking" for it, like everyone that hates Ford seems to think. His form of consent with Bill was shaking hands in the end. Many times, Bill clearly disregarded that, and acted like Ford deep down wanted it.

In the end, Ford would have gladly destroyed Bill if he knew he could on his own without giving him the equation, but coming back around to it, Stan probably recognized abuse in Ford with Bill, and didn't want Ford to suffer anymore, and to be able to get 30 years more to be among those that actually loved him.

I could keep going, but damn it, I'm tired. There are no truly good characters here, but there are certainly morally grey ones for reasons, and absolutely awful ones(Bill). Learn the differences. Stan wouldn't stand for this, and neither should we.

#stan pines #stanley pines #grunkle stan #gravity falls #ford pines #stanford pines #grunkle ford #rant #sa discussion #sa warning #i tried to keep it mild #some language #bill cipher #ford you need a hug

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agaypanic · 1 day ago

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Hello! I wanna request for aged up Roderick where he falls for his tutor that he was forced by his mom to get. Maybe a little bit of insecurity on his part cause he's scared she'll think he's dumb.

You're Not That Dumb (Rodrick Heffley X Reader)

Masterlist

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Summary: By some miracle, Rodrick graduates high school and decides to take some classes at the community college. When his mom finds out he’s failing one of his classes, she hires you to tutor him.

A/N: guys i think taking adhd meds and vitamin d is working bc why am i starting to pop off rn (writing 3 fics a month instead of 2). rodrick and reader are 19 and go to community college. Rodrick is dyslexic bc “dore” and “sweaty” bae cmon now… apologies in advance for a lil anorexic joke towards the end, it was the only word i thought rodrick would know that sounded like dyslexic

***

“Mom, I’m an adult. I don’t need a tutor.”

“Yes, Rodrick, you do.” Susan sighed, dropping the laundry she was folding back in the basket and looking at her son. “You’re failing English, and your father will be furious if you get dropped from the class. So, you’re getting a tutor.”

Rodrick groaned in frustration. “What happened to you guys trusting me to be responsible?”

“When you start acting responsibly, then we’ll trust you.” His mom replied, starting to fold her clean clothes again. “Please, just give it a chance. I talked to one of my friends, and she said her daughter can help you on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

“My tutor’s a girl?” Rodrick asked, starting to warm up to the idea of getting help with his class.

Susan gave him a suspicious look. “Yes… Is that a problem?”

“Nope! Not at all. I think this tutor thing is actually an excellent idea.” Rodrick started to back out of the room. Once he got to the doorway, he turned around and sped away so he wouldn’t get any further questions from his mom. “The best idea.”

***

Rodrick didn’t seem to take into account that having a tutor meant he was actually expected to work. He tried his best to evade it, but you obviously weren’t letting up.

“Dude, it’s not that hard.” You tried to keep your irritation from coming out. You knew Rodrick was a bit of a slacker, but it was completely ridiculous that you two had been sitting at his desk for fifteen minutes just staring at his problem packet.

“I know,” Rodrick replied defensively. He let out a huff of air, moving around in his seat. “I’m just… focusing my eyes.”

The more he tried to look at the page, the more confused he seemed to be getting. You needed to think of a different approach quick before you lost your cool.

“Maybe seeing all the different questions is getting you mixed up.” You finally took the packet, and Rodrick seemed to be relieved. “How about I read the questions, so you can come up with the answers. Okay?” He nodded, turning in his desk chair to face you. “Ready? Okay, why is it a sin to kill a mockingbird?”

Rodrick was quiet for a moment, and you hoped it was because he was formulating his response.

“Because they…” You braced yourself for his answer. “Don’t… deserve it?”

You raised your brows in surprise, and Rodrick mirrored your expression. “Yeah! I mean, you could say that about probably any bird, but good job! See, Rodrick, you know this stuff!”

The next couple of questions went the same. Rodrick would give you a hesitant half-answer, and you would give him more details while praising him for getting another question right. Both of your moods improved, Rodrick trying to hide (but failing horrendously) his giddy smile every time you told him he was right, and you were relieved to finally be getting somewhere in your study session.

After a few more right answers, you decided that Rodrick deserved a break. In his excitement, Rodrick somehow stretched the supposed ten-minute break to almost an hour. He captivated you easily despite the fact that earlier that afternoon, you were grumbling about having to waste a day helping him when you could’ve been out with friends. But now, as you watched him air drum to a song you couldn’t recognize for your life, you realized that he was kind of cute.

“Okay, okay, I think you’re done now.” You laughed when the song faded out, and Rodrick slumped down in his chair. “We should probably finish up your homework.”

Rodrick sighed but didn’t argue. You handed him back the packet of questions, and once again, he just stared down at the questions.

“You can do it, Rodrick.” You urged, trying to sound encouraging as you eased a pencil into his hand. “It’s just all the stuff we were talking about.”

“Right…” He trailed off, not very convinced.

At first, Rodrick dropped the tip of the pencil to the first question. It didn’t move, just making a small dot on the paper as he looked down helplessly. Then his eyes flicked up a bit, and he suddenly scribbled something at the top of the page.

That seemed to give him the confidence to start writing answers. His handwriting was messy; you couldn’t read it very well from your current position beside him. But you were just happy he was actually doing the work now.

As he went down the page, his writing had more pauses and uncertainty. You told him he could take a break after the first page so you could look over his work. When he marked down the last period, he shyly slid the packet over to you. You gave Rodrick an encouraging smile before picking it up, and that seemed to ease his nerves.

But the immediate bewilderment he saw when you scanned the page made him even more panicky.

“What? What did I do wrong?”

You didn’t answer for a moment, trying to figure out how to approach the topic you wanted to bring up.

“Rodrick, can I ask you something?” He nodded instantly. “Have you ever, uh, like… been tested? With your reading and writing, I mean?”

Rodrick was a bit confused by the question. He couldn’t recall any of that happening. But then again, Rodrick wasn’t the best at paying attention. He shook his head, wondering what you were trying to say.

Sighing, you decided to bite the bullet. “Rodrick, I think you might be dyslexic.”

He blinked at you, processing the information. Then he knitted his brows together, looking at you like you were the one that had something wrong with them. “Nuh-uh, I eat all the time.”

Now you were the one to blink at him, taking a second to try to connect the dots that Rodrick had. “I said dyslexic, not anorexic.”

“Oh.” Embarrassed by the mixup, he straightened up in his seat and scratched at the back of his neck. “But I know how to spell.” One quick glance from you back down to his paper made him gasp. He put a hand to his chest dramatically, which helped lighten the mood. “I can spell!”

“Rodrick, you put an ‘E’ in your first name.”

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit @screechingsandwichtriumph

#agaypanic #Rodrick heffley #Rodrick Jeffrey x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk #doawk x reader #college au

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ryuucam · 11 hours ago

Text

FAMILY MATTERS

⋆｡𖦹°‧ despite being just a year younger than him, kuroo has always been overprotective: that’s what good childhood friends do, after all. so when you confide in him your crush on his best friend, bokuto, he’ll match you two up, on just one condition. he’ll be the one to fuck you first.

contains dark content, fauxcest (kuroo and reader have a sibling complex, no one’s related but the lines are very blurry), yan!kuroo, jock!bokuto, love triangles (no action between kuroo and bokuto), size kink, threesome, lots of pet names, spit, nii-chan x imouto, virgin!reader, dumbification, daddy (used once), spitroasting, blowjob, fingering, aftercare!, implied cuckolding/netorare (?), open ending, 4k + words.

notes me next OMG WHO SAID THAT!!!! ending sucks sorry guys </3 but im a sucker for kuroo nii

your parents split up before you were born, leaving you in a family friend’s care. a sweet, middle aged man, mr. yoshimura, who had no kids and no immediate family. he knew the lack of a parent - let alone two - is not something that’s easy on children, so he moved to tokyo, in a neighborhood full of kids and families, in hopes of raising you surrounded by peers and whatnot. despite this, 5 year old you didn’t know any better: all alone, in a place you don’t know, and too timid to become friends with any of the kids in the local playground. but, when little you was just about to sob and run back to your house, a boy, one year older at best, stopped you.

“why’re you alone?” you’re quiet. then he flashes you a smile (and even if he’s missing his front tooth, it’s sweet), so you gather your courage and speak up. “i just moved here.” the boy laughs. “i’ll be your friend then!”

and that’s what kuroo is - a friend. a great one, of course, but even since then he’s set his mind of taking care of you. you grew up like siblings: both pained at the loss of your mother, both around the same age, and luckily enough, your house was just in front of his. so it’s only natural that you guys are close - sure, kenma hangs out with you guys when he manages to leave the house - but the bond you have is special. it’s unbreakable. you had countless sleepovers, hangouts, even cuddles when you first got your period and were in too much pain to do anything. the line was always a bit blurry, but you never paid any mind to it. kuroo is like your brother, and you both joke about it sometimes - calling you imouto and him onii chan, you viewed your relationship as entirely platonic, familial at best.

on the other hand, kuroo became smitten with you from your first meeting, only discovering his feelings when you were thirteen and puberty hit: everything became a bit too awkward, and your regular sleepovers gradually stopped. at sixteen, kuroo had already two small relationships under his belt, all while chastising you when you spent a bit too much time with any guy friend - he’s not good for you, you deserve better… are all excuses kuroo came up with to prevent you from getting your heart broken. at nineteen, kuroo’s in the third year of high school, and is about to graduate. you’ve grown now: you’re taller, prettier, and your body is… different, to say the least. testuro feels awful about his thoughts, but he’d be lying if he didn’t say he woke up with countless hard ons for years on end, involuntarily upsetting his girlfriends who were just placeholders compared to you. but, kuroo keeps scolding you when you forget your lunch or your scarf: “niichan’s not gonna be around forever, kay? gotta learn to take care of yourself, hm?” and you just nod, letting him do his thing because he’s naturally flirty. right?

however, kuroo is demoted to second place when you meet him: 6’2, awfully muscular and sickeningly sweet, one too many “that score was for ya, pretty!”, and a bit dumb but with a big heart (and big bulge in his shorts) - bokuto kotaro. he doesn’t go to your school, unfortunately, but it’s close enough for him to be at your school’s gymnasium regularly for countless volleyball matches with kuroo’s team. he’s sweet, sure, a bit dense, but very nice nonetheless. when he sees you, he always runs up to you, big smile and all, asking about your day, sometimes sneaking in some flirting - “good day, right y/nnie? hehe, couldn’t wait to see ya today. ya look as pretty as i thought you’d be!”. you always blush at the implications, and gradually you fond yourself smiling a bit more and blushing a bit harder. you twirl your hair when he talks to you, bat your eyelashes, not too much, but enough to make bokuto’s head spin and cock leak.

kuroo notices - of course he does. he’s always looking at you, naturally worried about what you’re up to, who’re you talking to. his heart beats a little bit faster, pumping envy and jealousy right into his veins, only fueling the deeply rooted love he has for you. he’s fuming, and it translates into the field perfectly: his spikes are a bit too harsh, a bit less precise, ultimately ending up hitting his friends in the head (and he goes back to normal soon after, apologizing and saying he wasn’t as concentrated). today’s match ends in a tie, fortunately for you, who are rooting for both teams - your niichan’s and bokuto’s. as you busy yourself talking to kenma after the match (or, blabbering about how cool bokuto looked, how strong he is, how big his muscles are, all the while kenma does nothing but sigh), the team captains are both changing in the locker room.

and of course, they’re nineteen and immature, so locker room talk is inevitable - but today, there’s just the two of them, the rest of the teams had left early. bokuto’s the one who speaks up first, while he runs a towel over his drenched hair. “so, kuroo… y’r sis was all dolled up today, don’tcha think?” kuroo doesn’t correct his friend. “guess so. that’s just her school uniform, though. ya think that’s dolled up?” “c’mon, the skirt was lots shorter! she’s got great legs too.” bokuto giggles, the thought of your exposed legs going straight to the bulge in his shorts. kuroo doesn’t laugh: well, of course you looked stunning, but bokuto’s just so crude about it, he thinks. “yeah, she’s hot.” kuroo mutters, earning a whistle from bokuto. “damn, thought ya’d kill me for sayin’ that over your imouto. well, whatever, she’s an eye candy, and a real smart girl too. she’s definitely my type, bro!”. kuroo fakes a laugh. “yeah, maybe she’s into you too. maybe she likes himbos.” “huh? ya think?” kuroo sighs.

when they’re done, they find you all bundled up next to the gym entrance, dozing off. your knees are pushed up to your chest, and your legs rest around your legs. your lips are slowly parted and the soft wind is blowing your hair just right. kuroo’s in awe - you’ve always been pretty, to say the least, but some days he swears you were made for him to see, to worship. bokuto chuckles, as if hearing his best friend’s inner dialogue, and his gaze follows the curves and shadows of your body, finding itself stuck on your glossy lips. bokuto hesitates a second too long, and kuroo’s the first to reach out to you, kneeling next to where you’re sitting. his hand caresses your hair, gently, with the experience of someone who’s been taking care of you for 14 years now. his face hovers near yours, hand sneaking up to your shoulder. “princess, wake up. lemme take you home.”, he breathes out, voice soft and meant only for you to hear. you begin to stir, subconsciously moving your face dangerously close to his. “tetsu?” his breath hitches. “yeah, pretty? ya tired?” “mhm.” kuroo chuckles, and takes you into his arms, slowly petting you awake. your body is pressed snugly against his, smaller and softer, as if it was made exactly for him to hold. he’s quiet when he feels his cock straining against his pants, too preoccupied with lifting you up. once you’re standing up, you rub your eyes, trying to make the sleepiness go away - and bokuto feels like his heart’s melting. “y’re pretty cute, ain’tcha?” he smiles. you’re suddenly reminded of his presence, the interaction you just with nii- no, with kuroo, suddenly makes you feel even more embarrassed.

kuroo breaks the uncomfortable silence. “we’ve got to go home.” you want to protest, but maybe he’s right. he wants to take care of you. so you nod, and wave goodbye to bokuto, before walking over to your childhood friend. as you two walk to your house, you make small talk - the chemistry test you had today, which he tutored you for, his university plans, the match he’s had today. “can i tell you something?” you ask, soft smile on your face. “hm? yeah. what’s up, cutie?” you giggle at the nickname - it’s sweet, childish, and he’s always called you that. “i think ‘m getting a crush on bokuto.”

and unexpectedly, he laughs. “really? ya like kotaro? dunno if he’s good for you, princess.” you nod - the weird feeling you had about the tension between the two captains is now gone - and are quick to defend him. “huh? why not? he’s so tall ‘n he’s so sweet!” you’re now outside your front door. kuroo pats your head, messing up your hair, earning a huff of frustration from you. “whatever ya want, cutie.” and he leans closer to you. it’s not unusual: he’s always been touchy. his lips hover near yours, and you feel like time stops. then, he presses a peck near the corner of your mouth. your face’s beet red - he’s never kissed you like this before - and you stammer out some words. “h-huh? wh-what’s that for, tetsu?” he chuckles, before turning around, about to leave. “can’t let him take you away from me. had you first.”

you spend the night tossing and turning in your bed, unable to catch any sleep. you sigh, and grab your phone, scrolling through your texts and notifications - one of which catches your attention: a dm on instagram. you open it, and you’re met by bokuto’s profile. you blush, feet kicking under the covers, and hurry to reply.

bokuto.taro1: hey hey pretty girl, just wanted to say you looked very pretty today. let me take ya out, yeah? let me show ya how serious i am about you.

your legs squeeze together - even his texting is attractive.

y/nniee: hi!! thank uu :) id love that actually

bokuto.taro1: ofc you do cutie. gotta ask permission to your nii-chan first, tho.

your breath hitches. right, kuroo. if he gave you a kiss just because you mentioned liking bokuto, you don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out he wants to take you out. your train of thought is interrupted by another ping from your phone.

bokuto.taro1: but seriously, baby, you’re so pretty. been thinking about you for a while now.. your skirts are gonna kill me one day.

bokuto.taro1: it’s late. better go to sleep, hm? before your nii nii finds out you’ve been texting me all night.

the date with bokuto went well. a movie theater date, watching the new horror movie you’ve seen all over your social media. he held your hand, bought you popcorn, and left you at your doorstep at 11 pm sharp. when he was about to leave, you spoke up. “w-wait.” “hm? what is it?” he turns around, curious. you walk over to him, and you cup his cheek. you pull him closer, and closer, until you’re both so close you’re breathing the same air. “want me to kiss ya?” you nod. he gets impossibly closer to you, and presses his lips on your jawline. “mhm, ya sure? tetsu’s gonna kill me.” his lips keep moving, now nibbling on your ear. you whimper. “please, kotaro? jus’ one kiss?” he giggles against your ear lobe, and brings his face back to yours, softly locking you in a soft, chaste kiss. your lips are soft, glossy, untouched, but it’s not enough for either of you.

“can’t do anythin’ more, princess. you don’t know what i’d do to ya right now, all pretty and shit. but your nii chan wants to be careful, you got it? ‘m gonna take great care of you if you let us.”

“n-nii chan?” “yeah, baby.” bokuto presses his lower body against yours, painfully hard cock poking your tummy. you whimper: it’s even bigger than what you imagined. bokuto can only laugh - you’re so tiny compared to him. “you feel it? that’s how hard- fuck - you make me. every day. have me tuggin’ at my cock for hours, can’t go down if i’m thinking about you, baby girl. you want it?” you nod, eyes glossy and lips parted, desperate to feel his bulge closer. “then ya’ve got to let your nii nii watch when i fuck you, alright? he wants to see his imouto get taken care of.” your heart stops - what? everything about this makes your poor head spin: what does kuroo have to do with this? well, you know he’s overprotective, but never this much. and there’s a little part of you that’s screaming at the creepiness of this situation. your niichan? your… brother? he wants to fuck you? well, in his defense, you’re not actual siblings, but you’ve always been so close - your stomach does a flip at the realization that each time you’d called him niichan, he had probably gotten off on it. you’re brought back to reality when bokuto presses another peck on your forehead, sweet, infantilizing, further dumbing you down to a poor, helpless little girl. “baby - whaddaya think? hm? we’re gonna take care of ya.” and you’re so ashamed of yourself when you nod in agreement.

so here you are - at home, sprawled on your soft mattress, as you wait for kuroo to come over. when bokuto called him, you’re sure you’ve heard a breathy laugh - dark, sinister, but you’re not too sure: even if this is a bit creepy, kuroo’s a good guy, right? your niichan who won’t let anything bad happen to you. bokuto senses your worries, hushing and shushing you by straddling your body. his lips press against yours, but it’s messier, wetter, than last time: they move with experience on top of yours, and as soon as you part your mouth slightly, he stuffs it with his fat tongue, exploring your hole. the room’s filled with your “ah- nghn… oh! a-ah…”s, and bokuto’s “quiet, girlie, lemme kiss ya a bit more…” as he sucks on your tongue. the kiss feels like it’s out of a porn comic - the ones you found on twitter, the ones you spent endless nights reading while rubbing desperately your clit. your tongues dance together, messy and desperately dirty, but it has you going dumb in seconds.

then, you hear a whistle coming out of your door. kuroo’s standing there, arms crossed as he watches bokuto’s much bigger body engulf yours. he has a big grin on his face - probably because of the sweet sounds you’re letting out, or because you look so cute with a much bigger man kissing you stupid. “bo, c’mon, let y/nnie breathe. right, cutie? he kissed you stupid already?” he breathes, getting closer to your bed. you’re tucked into the mattress, on top of your pink, girly sheets, hiding your trembling body behind your plushies (most of which were a gift from kuroo). kuroo sits on your bed, hand resting on your thigh, while bokuto leans back to take in your disheveled look - messy hair, smudged makeup, swollen lips. “tetsu…” you whimper, seeking comfort in someone you known so well. “see, bo? told you she needs to be taken care of.” kuroo turns to bokuto, his cheshire grin never faltering. bokuto laughs, then points at you with his head, bringing his friend’s attention back to you. “oh, princess”, kuroo coos, “poor thing. want me to take care of you?” you nod. the ache in your now drenched panties is unbearable, making your head spin and eyes tear up: you need it to stop, to go away - your hypersensitivity is so cute. so endearing, innocent.

just like the sweet, sugary kisses kuroo presses on your cheeks as bokuto begins to massage your shoulders. “hey, cutie”, he brings your attention back to him. “lemme undress you, hm? don’t hafta do anythin’, sweet girl, i’ll take care of ya.” “hm, ngh… y-yes plea-ah-se!” and he gets to work. he leaves you in your underwear - a baby pink cotton set, with bows and white details. so cute. bokuto can’t enjoy the show as much as he’d like to, though, because kuroo’s hand flows to one of your breasts, cupping the soft flesh he’s dreamed of for ages. you stifle your moans: the feeling is so foreign and weird, but it’s so good. “angel,” tetsuro speaks against your ear, voice sending electricity throughout your body, “always dreamt about this. about your pretty body.” his thumb moves to your covered nipple, already hard and pressed snugly against the fabric of your bra. “n-nii chan…” kuroo feels his cock strain - oh, you pervert. you nasty, dirty girl, calling him big bro when he’s rubbing your tits sore. but, he can’t scare you away. he wants to hear you keep calling him that, to show bokuto your bond is stronger than any other you’ll ever have.

so kuroo’s quiet. “what is it, imouto?”

the name makes your neglected cunny twitch. but everything is feels so good, four hands touching and pawing at you, two hot men on your bed kissing you stupid. so you keep going - puffing up your lips. “wanna kiss. please.” your gaze flickers between bokuto and kuroo, but eventually settling on the latter. kotaro can wait, right? but oh, kissing your tetsu feels so wrong. unfortunately for you, he doesn’t hesitate, locking your lips together. it’s messy, raw, and so unbearably wrong, but it makes your pussy pulse a bit more, and it almost calms down the anxiety pooling into your stomach. it’s your tetsu, your niichan - yes, it’s wrong, but he knows you best, no? that’s why he’s here.

bokuto’s jealous - why is he here if you’re gonna kiss your brother all night? so he acts. he, not without a struggle, unhooks your bra, letting your pretty tits fall exposed. you whimper, but it goes unnoticed as bokuto latches his mouth on your other nipple, sucking harshly the warm flesh. your head spins, and you feel like fainting when kuroo mimics his friend. they lick, bite, mark your tits, leaving them all swollen and bruised. your mouth feels empty, and you tentatively reach over to the two men. “ca-ahn, can you… nghm, guys k-kiss me more? ‘m achin’ do-down there…” oh. they were both so intent on competing with each other, they stopped coddling their sweet girl. kuroo goes back to kissing you, pulling you into his lap as you face bokuto. the former’s cock is pressed against the swell of your ass, and the latter is kissing your body, going lower and lower until he presses a final, wet kiss on your panty clad pussy.

“bo, take em off. she soiled her panties anyway.” kuroo orders, voice slightly muffled because he just won’t stop kissing you. bokuto does just that - he pecks your cunny two more times, then rolls down your drenched underwear, leaving your pretty pussy bare. the two men feel their cocks pulsing: the sight of your cunt being almost too much for them to handle. it’s puffy, wet, but twitching and they can see your little clit peeking from your squishy folds. tetsuro squeezes your tits, and speaks up. “princess - y’want a cock in there? want us to fuck you?” how can he be so crude about this? but your pretty cunny is screaming at you to stuff her, to make her feel so full, so you whimper out an answer. “mh-mhm tetsu… pl-please…mhgn.. o-one of you…” bokuto smiles and pets your head, his much bigger hand messing up your hair. “lemme do it - please? lemme ruin your pretty cunny, baby, fuck, she looks so pretty. ‘m gonna stuff her nice ‘n well, princess, jus’ how you wanna.” kuroo let’s out a dry laugh. “what’s gotten you so worked up, bo? her pussy that pretty?” kuroo jolts you into his lap, positioning your jerking cunt right on top of his clothed, painfully hard cock, earning a loud moan from you. he softens when you whimper and moan - you’re too fucked out, too dumb already, so you need to be fucked by someone’s who’s careful, caring. “y/nnie.”

his voice is grounding, strict, something you’ve heard all your life. your nii-chan, your tetsuro. he is a comforting presence throughout all of this - so you nod. “please-ahse, nii-channgh… oh!” “please what, princess? want me to be the one to fuck your angelcunt first?” “mhm! please!” bokuto sighs - should’ve known the pretty girl he’s liked for a few months now had a brother complex. kuroo turns you around, so that you’re facing him. he undoes his zipper, letting his cock spring free from the tightness of his boxers. it’s thick, with a stupidly red, fat tip that’s leaking so much precum. your mouth waters at the sight - your nii chan’s dick rests above your cunny, and it looks so big. then, you see another pair of hands sneak from behind, squeezing your waist, your hips, and resting near your crotch. bokuto’s hard, muscular chest is pressed against your back, head resting on your shoulder, and his thumb inches closer and closer to your clit. “kuroo, y’re gonna stick your dick in her without rubbin’ her clit? just for a bit, i-i’ll do that.” kuroo’s taken aback - he was so focused on making you his, on marking you before anyone else, that he forgot about easing your nerves. you throw your head back as bokuto’s fingers slip inside your hole, thumb drawing hearts on your clit, while his other hand pinches and rubs your nipple. “ta-ah, taro! nghn… ah- uh - ‘m g-gonna…!” your cry out.

his attack on your cunt is rough, hypocritically so when he just chastised kuroo for not taking care of you. “ya can do it, puppy, sing more for me mkay? wanna hear ya scream for me while i cuddle yer cunt. she’s so fuckin’ tight, holy shit. she’s loud too, hear that, y/nnie?”the squelching noises of your sopping pussy are so embarrassing, and the way he talks about it is so dirty - but it makes your slimy walls flutter around his fingers even tighter. “da-hmph!” “what’s that, bunny? what’re ya trying to call me, huh?” “da-ah… daddy…”

oh, fuck. bokuto presses his thumb harder on your clit, making you scream as you cum for the first time that night. kuroo’s cock twitches as he seethes - so jealous of the sweet moment between you and his friend. he can’t let you think about bokuto, no, he needs to bring you back to him - so he nudges his tip against your hole, swatting away the hands of the other man, uncaring of your pleas and cries. his tip’s big - and kuroo knows that making you ride him will hurt. but all the better for him, he’s gonna shape your insides to fit his cock only.

“angel.” you sniffle. “angel, ‘m gonna put it in, kay? focus on me.” “nii-chan…” “yeah, fuck. just like that, pretty, keep callin’ me - wanna hear you. ‘m gonna teach you how to sit on cock, yeah?” you nod. kuroo kisses you as he slips it in, popping your cherry. it’s painful, yes, but it’s so big, you’re so full - you’re already going dumb on your nii chan’s cock. kuroo positions your limp body so that you’re fully impaled by his length, fully sitting on it. “you’ve gotta bounce on it, bunny, make your nii chan cum.” you cry, fat tears streaming down your cheeks, but you do that regardless - because you want your kuroo nii to feel good. when he cums, he does it in you, cock kissing your cervix stupid, letting his fluids stain your cunny. you cream around him soon after, crying out for your nii chan.

then, kuroo reluctantly slips out of you. there’s a small pause, then you’re stuffed again. only this time, it’s bokuto’s cock that’s seeking your tight heat. he slipped into you from behind, and he presses you down on the bed - face down, ass up. “didn’t wanna be mean, baby. jus’ needed your pussy. so, so bad - forgive me, yeah?” “‘s fi-fine, taro, feels so - fuck! so g-good!” your voice is muffled, face smothered in blankets and plushies. as bokuto slams his cock in and out of you, you’re hugging one of the teddy bears - this one specifically was a gift from kuroo for your finals day last year. it makes you all warm and fuzzy, subconsciously clenching your cunt even tighter around his friend’s cock. kuroo notices - and he thinks you’re so cute, all needy for him even when you have another dick in you.

so he takes his cock in his hand again, and turns your head around: his tip kisses your lips, prodding at your mouth. “y/nnie… wanna suck here for a bit? make you feel all better.” and you hazily do so. as bokuto plows into you, you take kuroo’s dick in your mouth, slowly working your way down his shaft. you kiss his tip, lick it, suck on it to get used to the taste; it’s comforting, grounding, making you don’t feel as anxious as you’d be while having your first time. kotaro caresses your head as you start bobbing it up and down tetsuro’s length. “good fuckin’ girl - so sweet for us. such an angel, right kuroo?” “mh? yeah. makes me wanna do this again- fuck, y/nnie, i’m going to cum… don’t have to swallow, kay? you’re doing so good for nii chan.” tears pool in your eyes, both from the reassurance and the knot in your stomach snapping - you cum around kotaro’s cock, just as kuroo’s member slips out of your mouth and his cum splatters on your giggling tits and lips. bokuto cums soon later, dick going flaccid inside of your cunt.

you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

you’re awoken by the feeling of soft fabric on your skin - someone’s cleaning up your body. you pry one eye open, and both boys are still here. before you can say anything, bokuto speaks. “you were so good for us, sweetheart. thank you for letting us fuck you, yeah?” you blush - suddenly hyper aware of the situation you were just in. you look over at kuroo, who’s the one cleaning up your used pussy. “tetsu?” “yeah, baby? he’s right - such an angel.”

once they’re done cleaning you up, you squirm back into your blankets, tired. kuroo’s hand caresses your head, and bokuto’s holding your hand. you feel so safe, taken care of. “can you guys sleep here tonight?”

bokuto knows deep down that he can’t compete with kuroo. he loves you, he really does, but there’s just something so fucked up about your bond - and he feels bad for you. how you’re so dependent on kuroo for everything. how you’re such a fragile, pathetic girl enabled by the one you trust the most. you’re beyond fixing - he noticed how you clenched when you called him your big bro, how you went for his cock with no hesitation, how you let him fuck you after you went on a date with another guy. maybe it’s not that bad. you’re not actually related, right? it’s just a pet name, maybe that’s what childhood friends do. sure, that must be it.

kuroo notices. of course he does. and he’s got everything where he wants it to be. you sleeping on his chest (well, your hand is holding kotaro’s, but it could he worse), and a tissue with your mixed fluids thrown in the bin right next to the bed as proof of your actions just a few hours ago. but, he can’t lie: he feels somewhat guilty, maybe subconsciously so, for taking advantage of you. he knows his friend’s awake, and you’re in such a deep sleep, you probably won’t stir even if they chat for a bit.

“bo?” “yeah?” “i’m not gonna lie to you. i really don’t want you guys to go out together.” “yeah, figured as much - bokuto laughs - but you’re still my best friend and i still like her. even if you’re a creep for calling her sis when you’re fucking her, man.” there’s no malice in the air - just plain boy rivalry. kuroo replies after a few seconds. “she still lost her virginity to her nii chan. guess i’m not the only weirdo here. but still, dude, ‘m not gonna let her go so easily.”

bokuto sighs - he knows you’ll always run back to your big bro. that doesn’t stop him from trying. when you’ll wake up, he’ll still try his best to score another date with you. and kuroo will be there to remind you that he’s the only good guy for you - until you’ll be under him again while you cry for your nii chan to fuck you harder. you’re not sane in the head, but kuroo doesn’t mind. he’s here to make you feel better.

#writing #smut #x feader #tw fauxcest #cw fauxcest #tw dark content #cw dark content #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #kuroo x reader x bokuto

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luxdove · 21 hours ago

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Drink Down Your Sorrows

Pure Vanilla Cookie x Drunkard! Reader (Platonic)

Randomly thought of this during school so might as well post this even though I don’t even know if I did this correctly

Characters might be OOC!

CW: Alcohol

You lived in the Pure Vanilla Kingdom for quite a while and yet every cookie seems to always be surprised when they see you- drunk

Pure Vanilla Cookie always tried to warn you about the dangers of drinking too much since ya know he’s a pretty close friend to you- yet you waved him off like it was no big deal- after all it’s just a simple drink; what’s so harmful about that?

you’re always seemed to be drunk, your tongue laced with intoxicating alcohol yet somehow you always managed drink enough to where it’s not so dangerous and life ending

However many cookies that knew you were obviously trying to get you to quit your habits

“My friend please I beg of you- can you please stop drinking? This is not good for you!” Pure Vanilla Cookie and other cookies that were acquainted with you kept asking

“What’s so dangerous about drinking? It’s not hurting anyone else is it? Let me endure the happiness that I can cherish even if it’s for mere seconds” you spoke with hiccuped, your breath stunk with alcohol, your eyes half lidded but your vision was clear as day face flushed as you drank more of the liquor

It’s not like you were a slacker, you worked with your heart beating with the liquor running in your dough

I mean how else did you managed to get enough currency to be living in the kingdom whilst getting your desired drink on the daily?

You weren’t irresponsible either, you were just a cookie who loves being drinking and being drunk all day and all night

Of course you just didn’t drink for fun, like most drunkards- yours had a story that started it all

A memory locked away in the corner of your mind, deaths filled your mind and was stuck in a never ending loop

So you started drinking- you drank and drank- all to cure your sorrow, painful, and pitiful self

So imagine the surprise on Pure Vanilla Cookie’s face once he finally saw you; the kingdom’s heaviest drunkard- finally not drunk and sober

You were in despair, tears fallen one after another, back hunched over as you looked…depressed really, eyes filled with no hope or meaning in life

Yet once you were drunk you were high with euphoria the laughter that is so easily whisked away with just a simple sip of that damn liquor

Pure Vanilla Cookie only needed a few moments to look at you to know what he must do, he will try to rehabilitate your habit of drinking because he will put a stop to this even if it means hurting you in the process

If anyone needed to convince you to do something all they needed to trade in was a simple barrel of alcohol- really you were just that easily swayed away

Now imagine the distraught you felt when Pure Vanilla Cookie finally made it to where there was a limit to your drinking

Perhaps you should move to another kingdom that didn’t have such rules? (All the other kingdoms have been informed with the rules so it wouldn’t make a difference)

oh how cruel he was to put an end to your happiness

Perhaps you should be an alcohol maker so where you had an endless supply and drink to your heart contents!

That would be the case if Pure Vanilla Cookie didn’t spend pretty much the whole day with you to keep you on lock down

Oh how double cruel! Even with the limits of drinking you haven’t even gotten a tiny sip of liquor due to Pure Vanilla Cookie sticking to your side like glue

It was cruel, it was horrible, you felt as the seconds gone by you were slowly suffocating by the sorrows that filled your past

“my friend what’s wrong? Don’t you love the way nature brings in hope?” Pure Vanilla Cookie spoke in a soft, innocent, and calm tone “you had to let go of that habit my dear friend…it was getting dangerous if you didn’t stop now…” he whispered concernly

Yet you couldn’t bear it- you couldn’t handle the pain

The addiction of drinking filled your dough and yet it’s been months without it

You’ve been masking your feelings in fear it would turn people away from you but Pure Vanilla Cookie being your closest friend could tell about your false feelings

So imagine one day you found your beloved alcohol just sitting on the counter of your household

It was tempting to you, it was like calling out for you to just take a sip…just one sip…

Yet that sip turned into a gulp…and that gulp turned into an empty bottle of glass

Yet…drinking didn’t seem to bring out the euphoria you thought it would bring

Instead it made you feel worse, in even more pain

So one day you met up with Pure Vanilla Cookie

You finally spilled everything, the start of your drinking habits to how now it doesn’t feel the same anymore

“Friend…I am so happy you tell me this…don’t you know how long I have been waiting for you to tell me?” Pure Vanilla Cookie said as he spoke soft yet his closed eyes faced showed how solemn he felt

Pure Vanilla Cookie comforted you as you cried your heart out, and you promised to drink to a limit and not to an everyday measure

Lowkey I was actually going to make it angst at the end but then I blanked out and made it comfort, your welcome you guys were saved 😡

The funny part was- when I first thought of this I only had “sorrow, pitiful self” line in my head and we somehow ended up here

#cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #crk #pure vanilla cookie x reader #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla crk #pure vanilla x reader

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callme-naomi · 1 day ago

Text

this is the same story - the prequel - retold from another POV.

Nanami's POV.

Reader is referred to as 'she' and 'her' here. Reader's POV here

When his parents came over to visit, Kento had slightly expected them to bring up this topic, and when they called him for 'a little talk', he knew what was bound for him.

"Son, it's time you take a wife." his mother began.

"I understand, but I need some time to stabilize-"

"Your career is already stable enough, son. You're a fine lad with a good work, all the girls would want to marry you." She tried to convince him.

"They wouldn't want me to marry all of them, I imagine." He tried to quell the mood.

The truth was, Nanami Kento had always learned to live alone. Ever since high school, when he moved out, and till today, he had been accustomed of living by himself.

He had never even talked to a girl, (if you don't count his cousins) let alone live with one. He wasn't sure he'd treat his wife the way she wanted and deserved to be treated. And Nanami Kento never took a responsibility he couldn't keep.

And he still thought he could do better with his job. At office, he could either focus on finding a girl, as his parents had subtly implied on him to do for the past few months, or could focus on his work, and with the ladies in his workplace? He chose the latter.

He wanted to make sure the girl he marries has a good life with him, one the both of them won't regret living.

"Son, this is serious," his father intervened, directing his son's gaze on himself, "you're our only son, and we're one leg into the grave already. I would want to see you married before I die."

"Father, you won't have to wait that long." He always hated when his parents talked of themselves dying.

"I hope so, son. Because, you have to understand. It's now time for you to marry. You've lived alone for long enough. Bring a girl, someone to light up your home. Grow your family."

"I understand. But, I still need some time." He tried to ask them. I need time to figure out how to do this.

"I understand, son, but now, I've taken my decision."

Kento's heartbeat sped up.

"I don't know when you plan to marry her, that's your thing to decide. You can get engaged or something, but we are going to find a match for you. This way you can wait as long as you want, but at least we'll have done our part."

Alright. At least he doesn't have to find one for himself. He cradled one hand in the other as he nodded. "Whatever you wish."

"Unless," his mother asked, kindly looking at her son, "there's someone you have in mind."

"No. Not at all."

Mr. and Mrs. Nanami were nothing if not efficient. When they say they'll get a job done, they'll get it done. And so it did not surprise him when within five days they called him again.

"A friend of your father's told us about this girl." She showed him a picture of the girl she found.

"We're thinking of arranging a meeting with her," his father told him proudly. "She's good-looking, and from what my friend said, she can housekeep, and she's good at cooking too. And she's not too loud or anything, very polite and sober."

"What's her education?"

"She's gotten a degree in [degree name]," his mother responded, and Kento was fairly impressed. "She doesn't have a job, though. She doesn't need to, anyway."

He found no reason to object, so he said yes. If they have taken the initiative, might as well follow it.

And for the first time, he felt unsure - or for use of an easier term, nervous - of himself. He, always the strategist, found himself analyzing all sorts of plans in his mind, the many ways he could steer the conversation and leave a good impression, until finally the day came.

He held himself as was expected of him - the nice, honorable, composed son of the Nanami household, and he had to admit, he was pleased to meet her. She was soft-spoken, spoke when needed, and he could see her skills around the house, in the paintings, in the gardens, in her younger brother's knitted sweaters, and in the food that was served.

When the two of them were left alone, he could feel his heart thumping so loud he expected her to ask where this drumming was coming from. Fisting his hands against his suit, he asked the first question, "I was told that you had a degree in [degree name], and I've found it quite a unique choice. What persuaded you to do it?"

That finally got her to speak. And from then on, it was smooth sailing. Starting a conversation was always the hardest but continuing it wasn't.

When he and his family returned back home, Kento quietly observed his parents' reactions before he gave his own. Safe to say, they were pleased with the girl, and when they asked for his opinion, he said yes.

It was only a matter of months from then.

As he saw his house change to accommodate another member to his family, he found himself mentally bringing up all the possible things that could go wrong, and all that could go right. What if she wasn't the one? What if he couldn't be the one for her?

But Nanami Kento was experienced in trying out new things. All he had to do was prepare a plan and walk by it. He just had to figure out how to do it.

But that was the thing. Marriage had nothing to do with studies, or finance exchanges, or boss-employee debates. It was a completely new field for him.

But, he thought on his big day, as he stood at the altar, awaiting her among the gazes of hundreds of people, maybe he could learn to figure it out.

******

On his first meeting, he learned that she had a love for gardening.

On his second meeting, he learned that she had always wanted to go to Turkey* to watch the hot air balloons display at Cappadocia.

On their wedding day, he found out that she can run in heels.

On their first day, he learned that she likes to have her hair tied in a bun.

On their second day as newlyweds, he learned that she enjoys being in the kitchen.

He found out that she likes to hum when she's doing the dishes.

He discovered that she loved wearing random pieces of jewelry - a simple pendant, or a bracelet.

He learned her favorite snack, so he would pick them up on the way back home. He learned the type of outfit she liked on men, and would wear that.

He learned her favorite season and the weather that made her, as she said, want to dance all day and her favorite time of the day to walk with her outside.

He learned how to make her the tea she usually likes - not too sweet, nor too strong, just the right amount of milk.

He learned the name of her favorite bookstore to bring her books from her favorite author.

He learned how to make a French braid for her, because it was the hairstyle she loved but could never make, and painting her nails perfect enough to not spill onto the nailbeds, because why not?

He would bring her her favorite flowers on random days, just to learn the way her face would glow when she smelled them.

He memorized the way she drew one large breath in before she began to talk, the way her hands would move, her face being a mirror of expressions, and how she would always have this one strand of hair flying around her face that she would push back.

Especially when she would take his glasses and put them on her face, just for laughs.

He learned the signs. How she would scrunch her face just before she cried, in one attempt to keep it in. How she would smile brightly before she blushed. How she would scowl at anyone who dared to stare at her husband for a minute too long.

The tip tap of her feet as she walked around the house. The way of drumming her fingers against any random surface. Covering her mouth when she laughed loud.

He learned how to dance for her - a simple waltz - because he knew how much she loved doing it.

He learned the feeling of her hand in his, the way the ring he bought her - again, the size he learned of her finger - would feel against his palm, the way she traced circles on his hand.

He learned the way she circled her arms around him when she wanted to cuddle with him.

He learned the look of her sleeping face, as he would see when he came home late from work and found her waiting for him.

When Kento began this journey, he wasn't sure how he would lead this. Or even if he will, to begin with.

He hadn't known he could love someone he hadn't known before so much. But as he feels grateful for having had her, he learned that he could love someone. He had learned to love her.

*you can put any destination you want!

#jjk x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento #naomi writes #nanami jjk #nanami x reader #jjk au #arranged marriage au #jjk #au #my fav character ever #why can't he be real

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