#I thought it would be so funny to turn an insider joke between us into a mock fighting game

[lazysoulwriter]

same brain cell, same trip - chris sturniolo.

warnings: shroom use (recreational, not glorified), kissing, stupid jokes, mild swearing, two idiots in love

---

You’d both done shrooms before.

Separately.

Which is why you thought you were prepared. You weren’t.

“I feel like a toaster strudel,” Chris said an hour in, lying sideways on the floor, staring at absolutely nothing.

You were on the couch, half upside-down, watching the ceiling breathe. “Because you’re warm and gooey inside?”

“No,” he frowned. “Because I’m flaky and confused.”

You absolutely lost it.

Laughed so hard you nearly slid off the couch. Your face hurt. Your chest hurt. Your teeth felt funny.

Chris looked at you and burst into laughter too, completely unprovoked.

“Wait—wait—” he wheezed, dragging himself over to where your legs dangled off the edge. “Are we laughing at the same thing?”

“I think so,” you gasped, “but I also might just be vibing with your soul right now.”

He crawled up, grabbing your cheeks in his hands, and squished your face. “We have one brain cell and it’s high as fuck.”

—

The kissing started out cute.

Like, sweet pecks and “I love your face” and “your mouth feels like jelly” type of cute.

But then it got sloopy.

Like. Wet. Sloppy. Absolutely no coordination.

“Wait,” you whispered between kisses, holding his face. “Do I have lips? Like. Still?”

Chris blinked at you like you just said the meaning of life. “I was just wondering the SAME thing.”

And for a solid five minutes, you both sat in complete silence, staring at each other’s mouths like scientists.

Then Chris goes, “Wait. Are we… kissing each other from the inside?”

You: “Excuse me what the fuck.”

—

You went outside because Chris was convinced the couch was trying to “eat his knees.”

(“I swear it moved when I sat down.”)

The backyard was peaceful. A little chilly. The grass felt amazing.

“Take your shoes off,” Chris told you, wide-eyed. “The earth is horny.”

“…what?”

“You’ll see.”

You did. The grass felt like fuzzy seaweed. You wiggled your toes and gasped. “Oh my god. You’re right.”

Chris nodded solemnly, like a wizard. “Told you.”

You laid down in the grass, heads close, looking up at the stars. At some point you both pointed at the same patch of sky and shouted, “HE LOOKS LIKE A PANCAKE.”

“No way we saw the same cloud,” Chris said, sitting up dramatically. “No way. We’re literally telepathic.”

You stared at him in awe. “Wait. Are we soulmates?”

Chris grabbed your hand. “I would literally marry you right now if the trees weren’t watching.”

“Yeah they’re judgmental as fuck.”

“Especially that one,” he whispered, pointing to a bush.

“That’s a bush.”

“Don’t label him.”

You apologized to the bush.

—

You spent an hour inside just looking at your hands.

Chris kept flexing his fingers like he was in The Matrix. You kept giggling because your fingernails looked like tiny jellybeans.

At one point, Chris gasped and stared at your face like you’d just spoken fluent dolphin.

“Your eyelashes,” he whispered. “They’re doing choreography.”

“They’re probably talking shit,” you replied.

He leaned forward, deadly serious. “Tell them I said hi.”

You couldn’t even kiss him after that because your face was too smiley and your lips didn’t know how to form a direction.

You just smooshed foreheads for a while, giggling.

—

Coming down was slow. Soft. Your limbs felt like jello, but the happy kind. You curled up on the couch together under a blanket, eating goldfish crackers like they were gourmet cuisine.

Chris, deadpan: “These taste like math.”

You nodded. “Like fourth grade. But make it spicy.”

Then he kissed your temple and whispered, “I had so much fun being weird with you.”

Your heart exploded. You turned to him, eyes sleepy. “We should be weird together forever.”

Chris smiled, big and crooked. “We already are.”

—

The next day, you both woke up tangled and confused.

“Did I cry because of a mushroom?”

“Yes.”

“And apologize to a bush?”

“Twice.”

“And did we… try to get engaged using a ring pop?”

Chris pulled the sticky wrapper from under the blanket. “I still stand by that decision.”

You grinned. “You’re insane.”

“You love it.”

“I really, really do.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[pastelaspirations]

S o. You know that kinda niche meme of asking people to meet you in a Denny's parking lot as shorthand for meaning that two people are going to brawl and freaking fight?? W e l l. It has become a kind of insider joke with my friends and I and... u h...

IT IS THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH, @paintedkinzy-88, I DIDN'T FORGET. HAVE AN EXTREMELY CURSED BIRTHDAY GIFT-

How this all happened is because I think, if I can remember right, Kinzy had an objectively trash opinion about Hamburger Helper, which is this boxed noodle food.

I don't even remember what it was, I just remember their opinion was objectively trash. So I said as such. Then Kinzy told me to meet them in a Denny's parking lot, 9:00 o'clock sharp, and we can settle our disputes there. Fast forward to this now being a sort of insider joke whenever we disagree about something. (The fight was abruptly cut short 'cus Kinzy left the fight BECAUSE A FANFIC UPDATED- I might make sketchy doodles of that in the future, I don't know-)

All in all, I was wondering what I could draw for my fren's birthday. Until I remembered this stupid joke between us, and then I thought I could draw it as an actual fighting game, which I figured would be so stupid but so ridiculously fun.

Here's one without the word in the middle lol

ALSO, AS A BONUS.

I made a template version! :D So, if you guys want to draw YOUR persona beating me up, you can!! There's a version with the "FIGHT" in the middle and one without because I thought it would be helpful to give both versions >:D

Finally, I found the background on Google. It was so funny because it was a Denny's parking lot, but with police cars. I thought it fit so well for a fighting game background. For the text on the picture like the names and stuff, I used マティス Pro font, or roughly the Matisse Pro font on Medibang. I found ways to download it, such as this site, but there are other sites you can find to download it from! This way, if you would like your persona's name in the corner to be the same font as the rest of the words, you'll be able to do that. XD

[ivhmavie]

you’re too sweet for me

hwang in ho

first of all, just a little advice that english its not my first language! be kind

༶ he knew that you were too good for him, that hi’s world was way to cruel and defiant to a girl like you. The games, the carnage, the involvement of VIPs, the arrogance, the money.

༶ but oh, everytime that he sees you, he forgets that. The monotonous days that he spent locked in his small apartment, without spending a cent of his prize, began to have a purpose when he knew you.

༶ your laugh, that he heard before seeing you, your hands looking for something to hold on to so you don't fall, your shy look when you apologize for tripping over him and your gentle tone of voice. The joy that only the joviality and naivety of someone who did not see bad things in your eyes.

༶ you were an interesting little thing to him. Something that took him out of his automatic state on days when he waited until the next game.

༶ it had been a long time since he allowed himself to think of a woman as anything other than a one night fuck.

༶ his routine was messy. Normally he would spend part of the morning with a glass of whiskey while talking to the VIPs about the next edition of the games or evaluating the people recruited for the game.

༶ and the more you two talked, the more he realized that you were too sweet. Trying to balance your study routine and still take care of yourself.

༶ the first time you went out, he couldn't say for sure what had made you shy. Whether it was the expensive restaurant, which you clearly couldn't afford with any part-time job as a student. Or if it was because he was older than you. Whether it was the experience, or his money that intimidated you, he liked it.

༶ for him, it was fun to see you turn into a shy mess, not knowing where to look, fidgeting with your own hands.

༶ honestly, he likes seeing you shy. Whether it's because he took you to a chic and expensive place, because he gave you a very pricey gift and you don't know how to react, or because of the comments from people who see you together, even when your friend talks about the "hot, rich old man" that you’re going out with

“soo, did you two already..?” your best friend asks sitting on your bed, watching you open another gift from in-ho. Not that you were complaining, but you didn't know how to reciprocate while he spoiled you so much.

“did we what?” you ask a little confused, turning your present okhar away to look at your friend. After a while, you got used to her being excited to see you dating someone, especially a rich older man who treats you like his wife.

“god, you’re so naive, I’m talking about sex” when you heard what she said, you looked at her a little disconcerted as you finish opening the package and see a beautiful pair of boots, it was obvious that she would want to know the details. And you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it yet.

“noo!! we did not, it’s still a little to early for that”you respond, laughing and throwing one of the pairs of boots at her as a joke. “now come here, I need help with this other gift”

༶ and yes, sex with him is for sure a thing.

༶ he’s a natural dom. Even though he likes the view of having you on top, he loves having you on the bottom. He's a big, muscular man, and he's not at all modest about it. So having a small girl underneath him is exciting.

༶ he likes to hold one of your hands when you are underneath, the other hand on the side of your head. But sometimes, when things are at their roughest, he likes to have a firm hand around your neck, kissing you while his other hand travels between your legs and massages the inside of your thighs.

༶ afterwards he would like to stay in bed, you lying with your head on his chest while he pours himself a glass of drink. Hearing you talk about that mean teacher who is very strict with you, or about the girls you and your friends don't like.

༶ he allows himself to think it's funny. While your mind is filled with the things you want to buy, your care routine and the tests you have to study for, he thinks about games, receiving VIP guests and especially how to keep everything in order.

༶ when he has to return to the island for the games, he invents a business trip, you are a little confused, because he had never told you about his work. So he uses as an excuse the story that he comes from a rich family and is going to visit some important old friends.

༶ during game week, he seriously considered telling you about everything. You missed him, considering that you were practically never apart from each other since you started dating. He had even planned to ask you to live with him, having even bought an expensive and large apartment for that.

༶ after a while, he started taking you to some events that he, as the frontman, attended, like the Halloween. Even if he hadn't told you exactly what he worked with, you could already tell that it wasn't something common, but you didn't care, you just wanted him.

༶ so when he tells you about the games, you accept it. Of course, you're so good to him, you'd never doubt him when he said they were just giving people a better opportunity.

༶ in the next edition you would watch the games with him. In-ho sat on the couch, a glass of whiskey neat in his hand, with you snuggled next to him, hiding your face in his chest every time someone got shot or got a bad bruise.

༶ he likes to admire you. He knows you are bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine and as sweet as a grape. hee knows he's the opposite of those cute and innocent things, but he can't resist keeping you close, pulling you more and more into his world, even if you were too sweet for him.

[navybrat817]

Alpine have seen unspeakable things

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMkAu7W81/

Bahaha. Poor Alpine. She certainly has.

Corrupted Cuddles

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You want to cuddle with Bucky and Alpine tells you exactly where you should sit.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, pet names, teasing, humor, sugary sweetness, inner monologue, established relationship, referenced smut, Alpine has seen some things, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The TikTok video was too funny and right up Stud and Smartie's alley. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a day for cuddling since it was cold outside. You had no reason to venture out into the world and leave the comfort of your apartment, unless you wanted to use it as an excuse for Bucky to warm you up once you got inside. But you didn’t need the excuse. If you told him you were cold, he’d warm you up right away. He may call you out on the fact that you feel perfectly fine, but he’d still keep you close before he loves having excuses to cuddle with you, too.

“Okay, Stud,” you called out, wiping your hands as you finished up the last chore on your checklist. “Get ready for some cuddles.”

He chuckled from the living room. “Why do you say that like it’s a warning?”

“Because it is a warning,” you smiled, grabbing drinks for each of you, too. “You are going to cuddle with me, and you are going to love it.”

“I have abso-fucking-lutely not doubt I’ll love it, but there’s just one problem with your plan,” he said.

You paused before you went into the living room, an eyebrow raised as you took in the sight of Bucky laying on the couch. He looked comfortable, and your beautiful harlot of a man had no shirt on because why would he? You had to blink a few times to focus. “And what exactly would that problem be so we can come up with a solution?”

Cuddling was going to happen. Couch, floor, bed, it didn’t matter. And he knew when you had your heart set on something, that was that.

He nodded to the ball of white fur between his thick legs. “Alpine demanded cuddles first, and I don’t know if she’ll move if I ask,” he teased.

You smiled as Alpine lifted her head to look at you. Bucky could easily get her to move. “Maybe I could try asking?” you suggested.

“Be my guest,” he smiled.

“Hey, Al,” you smiled, reaching down to scratch behind her ear. You really did adore her. “I don’t want to interrupt, but is there room for me to get some cuddles, too? Please?”

If she didn’t move, you’d wait your turn. She was Bucky’s girl first, and you were lucky she accepted you as quickly as she had. You also knew Alpine loved you just as much as she loved Bucky. You liked to believe in her eyes that you two were her mom and dad.

With a gentle meow, she stood up stretched, but didn’t move from her spot.

“So, is that a no on the cuddles?” you asked as Bucky tried not to laugh. He was enjoying the little show. “Well, if I can’t sit in your spot, where should I sit?”

Alpine stared at you with knowing eyes before she turned her attention to Bucky and gently placed a paw on his crotch.

There was dead silence in the apartment. Surely she didn’t… “I’m sorry, I should sit where?”

Alpine put her paw there again as your mouth fell open. Bucky, on the other hand, smirked, his blue eyes sweeping over you. “You’re right, Al. Smartie should sit right there,” he said, nodding to his crotch. “Well, she gave you her answer. Take a seat.”

“What the… What? Did you teach her that?!” you asked. Bucky just laughed more, his shoulders shaking. “You did, didn’t you? And if you didn’t, we clearly corrupted her!”

You thought Bucky was going to stop breathing for a moment. “Yes… our… poor pussy got corrupted,” he joked. You felt like you set yourself up for that. “And I won’t confirm or deny. She’s just a very observant cat.”

Waving a hand at him, you were having a hard time not laughing, too. “Okay, you are no help,” you said, looking at Alpine again. She was observant. “Al, where does Stud like to sit?”

Leaping off the couch, she made her way over to Bucky’s chair where he usually sat to read. God, she really was smart. She could take over the world one day.

“Okay, now where does Smartie like to sit?”

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?” Bucky asked.

“Shh. You are once again not helping,” you replied. And Alpine once again didn’t hesitate to go back to Bucky and put her paw right in his lap. God, she knew. Would the gang believe you if you told them what was happening? Probably. They wouldn’t be surprised either. “Okay, where else do I like to sit?”

“I don’t think-”

You about fainted when the cat moved up and firmly put a paw against Bucky’s lips.

Can I get to hell for corrupting a cat? Wait. No. This isn’t my fault. I will not burn for this.

“Okay, so…” you huffed when Bucky grabbed his left pec, his laughter ringing out again. You swore you saw Steve laugh like that recently. “She knows I like to…”

“Sit on my cock and on my face? Clearly,” Bucky smiled, nudging the cat to move and reaching for your hand. “But I thought that was just common knowledge after we got together.”

Your cheeks got hot. Yeah, you and Bucky went at it like bunnies some days. And yeah, Alpine had certainly waltzed around the rooms at various times when your man had you bouncing on his cock or taking a seat on his face. It just happened.

“Yeah, well, that’s because…” Bucky leaned his head back and licked his lips as he waited for you to continue. “Not to stroke your ego, but you have an amazing cock and mouth, and you’re the one who always wants me to sit on them!”

Bucky was so good to you that he didn’t care about the times you hadn’t perfectly groomed yourself. He wanted you, and that was that. It was a good feeling.

“Yeah, I want you to sit on them. And please, continue stroking my ego,” he encouraged, pulling you into his lap. “And when you’re done you can stroke my-”

You clamped a hand over his mouth. “Alpine has already been corrupted enough,” you said, removing your hand and trying not to moan when he settled you over his bulge.

“Pretty sure she was corrupted before we slept together,” he told you. “I jerked off one night and said your name and I’m pretty sure she slept by your door the next day to make sure I behaved.”

“You jerked off to the thought of me? That’s so sweet,” you smiled. And hot. Having a gorgeous man like him stroking himself, saying your name…

“You know I have and ‘sweet’ isn’t the word that comes to mind. Now will you please take a proper seat on my lap,” he asked, pulling you in for a kiss.

Before his lips touched yours, you looked over your shoulder. “Al, do you…” The cat was nowhere to be found. “Where did she go?”

“I think she’s giving us some alone time.”

“Well, all I wanted to do was cuddle,” you teased.

He groaned and kissed a trail to your neck. “Why don’t we cuddlefuck instead?”

You smiled before you repeated his words in your mind. “…Cuddlefuck?”

Al knows what's up. Poor Al. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[cutehoons02]

Strawberry with chocolate

Valentine's Day with Jungwon

*pairing: loser Jungwon x fem reader

*trope: cat energy vs black cat energy

*synopsis: February 14th was nothing special for you but for Jungwon, instead, it’s just another perfect excuse to tease you: You and Jungwon weren’t together but you had something that neither of us could understand but when he shows up at your door after training, with still wet hair and a mysterious package in their hands, their evening might take an unexpected turn. Between jokes and stolen touches, the evening turns into a game of strawberries and chocolate, started for fun but has become more and more dangerous,+18

*tags: A lot of funny,love to tease each other, Jungwon is seriously lost for the protagonist, tension, the protagonist pretends to be shy and not want to deal with Jungwon, perverts, possession, chocolate games on the body, kisses, sucking, masturbation (f. receives) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) pet names (noona,blondie girl,good girl) (wonie) fluffy moments, love statement,have 1/2 year difference

(English is not my native language)

6.5k (🍓🍫)

It was Valentine’s Day, and you were staring at your phone for the umpteenth time, biting the inside of your cheek. You weren’t together, not officially at least, and yet Jungwon insisted on coming to see you that night; Jungwon made you go crazy from the first time you met him 6 months ago and every time he saw you, he always had that nice little boy mixed up with someone who was causing trouble.

Is it just another one of his provocations? You thought aloud and put your hand through your blond hair, trying to distract yourself, but the anxiety was gripping your stomach.

You were prepared with light makeup because you did not want to show Jungwon that you wanted to impress him and you wore comfortable jeans and a sweatshirt with a zip that you wrapped perfectly the curves of your body, not that you cared to make a good figure with him. Just... a little.

The doorbell rang suddenly, making you jump. With a deep breath, you approached the door and opened it, ready to say something or tell one of your jokes, but you did not have time.

A hot body crashed into you, two strong arms wrapped around you without hesitation, and a head scented with vanilla shampoo and moist locks of hair stuck in your neck.

"Jungwon," You said laughing but also slightly puzzled by those attentions. He knew you were slightly cold to the physical touch, but Jungwon didn’t seem to care.

«Mm.» His voice sounded kneaded against your skin. He squeezed even more as if he wanted to melt it with himself. His wet hair was sticking to his forehead, leaving little drops on his sweatshirt and you felt his strong arms holding you even closer to his warm body.

"You’re all wet." You tried to move away, but Jungwon made a disgruntled sound and squeezed you even more.

«Noona...» he called you in a sweet tone, then just stopped to look at you with a clever smirk. «I missed you?»

You raised an eyebrow. "Why would I miss you? I saw you at work less than two hours ago!"

He stared at you for a second before laughing quietly. «You are so mean to me. Yet» he paused dramatically «you always let me hug you.» You snorted and you said in a low voice: "If you tried to run, you’d still get me."

Jungwon tilted his head, with that smug cat look. «Exactly.»

You sighed, pretending to surrender against his arms. "Why are you here, Won?" you said against his chest.

«Because it’s Valentine’s Day.»

"So what?" You looked up because you hated that day

He smiled, caressing your hair distractedly. «And so... I came to claim my Blondie Girl.»

Your heart lost a beat to his words. "I am not yours," you said, inspiring the sweet scent that emanated from the boy in front of you, Jungwon looked at you with a challenging flash in his eyes and then, with a quick move, grabbed your chin and brought his face so close to hers that his breath touched your lips.

«For a little longer,» he said, winking at you, you brought him in, and as soon as he crossed the threshold you noticed that behind him there was a parcel. It was not huge, but big enough to arouse curiosity and you tried to ignore your curiosity, but your gaze lingered on it for a few seconds too long and Jungwon, of course, noticed it immediately.

«Why don’t you ask me what’s inside?» asked with his usual funny smile, he knew you were as curious as he was but saw you move away from him and enter the room. " It’s not important," you said, pretending not to be curious.

He raised an eyebrow and laughed. «Aren’t you curious?»

"Not at all."

He burst out laughing and you didn’t want to admit it but you loved that laugh from the first moment you heard it for the first time and you wanted to hear it forever, especially for yourself. «Noona, you are terrible.»

Jungwon threw himself on the couch without much ceremony as if it were his home and sank into the pillows; you watched him shake his still-wet hair, leaving a few drops on the fabric of the sofa and he noticed that you were watching him and gave you a mischievous look.

«Where are your roommates?» He asked, stretching out like a lazy cat you saw the shirt slightly rise and you saw the ridges of his muscles but you looked away immediately.

"Valentine’s Day." you simply replied, sitting on the armrest of the sofa. "Some are celebrating with their boyfriends in some fancy restaurant and others are partying and getting drunk."

Jungwon nodded slowly, then turned to you with a thinkingly thoughtful look. «You should find yourself a boyfriend too, then.» He said smiling and rolling your eyes. "Oh, stop it."

He smiled amused, then reached out a hand and gently grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you towards him with a steady movement, and before you could protest, you found yourself sitting on his legs, his arms wrapped around the waist of your body and his face approached your neck, and he breathed slowly, with a satisfied sigh. He looked like a kitten cuddling in his favorite place.

«I like your perfume,» he murmured, his voice a little lower than usual and you flashed your eyes, trying to ignore the fast beat in your chest.

"Jungwon," you said with a whisper of voice.

«Open the gift.» He interrupted you, just squeezing you and you leaned back slightly to look at his face: His smile was always there, but in his eyes today there was something different, something more serious.

«It’s for you,» he repeated, you felt a little embarrassed by the position and tried to slip away and sit next to him on the couch,

But Jungwon slightly tightened the grip on your crop’s waist.

«On my legs,» he ordered in a whimsical tone, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and you puffed softly, but did not insist. You knew that, if you tried to run away, he would simply catch you with his satisfied grin and feel his fingers touch your side and tremble slightly, but you forced yourself to concentrate on the package in your hands.

Carefully, you untied the tape and lifted the lid. As soon as you saw the contents, a smile instinctively formed on your lips.

They were LEGO flowers to build together, to be precise. You sunflower towards Jungwon, surprise, but he came even closer, his warm breath on your ear.

«I didn’t make it in time to go and get some real flowers...» he whispered, with a hint of displeasure in his voice. «So I thought we could put them together. And they would be yours forever.»

You remained silent for a few seconds, holding the package in your hands, and then, without thinking too much, you hugged him and felt his body relax against yours and, after a moment, his low laugh tickled your ear.

«Noona...» he muttered in a funny voice. «I didn’t think that gifts were enough to get free hugs.»

You leaned slightly to look at his face. His eyes shone with sincere joy, and the smile he gave you was the most beautiful you had seen that night. Then, with an air of sneaky, he added: «I will fill you with gifts from now on!»

You burst out laughing and hit him softly on the shoulder. «Stop it, Wonie. I don’t need to be filled with gifts to hug you»

He bowed his head, looking at you with that piercing look. «Then give me another hug and maybe I’ll think about it.» You looked at him suspiciously, but in the end, you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck again.

«Good girl»

You were sitting on the living room carpet, and you and Jungwon were immersed in building your own LEGO flowers. Or rather, you tried to build with precision, while he found every possible excuse to distract you.

"Jungwon, stop it!" you slammed for the third time, giving him a small push on his shoulder.

«What have I done now?» asked the innocent one, but with that clever little smile on his lips you struck him with your gaze. "You tried to put a rose on my head instead of sticking it to the stem."

«I was just checking to see if it looked good on you.»

"You were just looking for an excuse to touch me."

He chuckled, resting his chin on one hand as he looked at me. «What if it were so?»

You focused on the instructions, trying to ignore them, but the truth was that you too were distracted more than necessary. Now and then you found yourself staring at his hands, large and tapered, which with surprising precision wedged the bricks. Or did you notice his biceps, which-holy heavens-were growing bigger and bigger? When did he put on all those muscles?

Focus, focus, Y/n! You told me mentally.

After about forty minutes, when the composition was finally taking shape, you suddenly got up.

«Ok, now it’s my turn to give you a little gift but it will never be like this of the roses.» you declare.

Jungwon looked at you with curiosity, trying to get up too.

"No." you stopped him immediately, pointing a finger at him. "You stay here."

He tilted his head, amused. «And if I don’t want?»

"Then you won’t have my surprise."

That detail seemed to convince him, even if his eyes were lit with curiosity. You walked away to the kitchen, trying to move fast, but you knew very well that it would only be a matter of time before... right?

You felt his footsteps behind you and, a moment later, Jungwon leaned on your back, putting his head on your shoulder.

«Noona...» muttered languidly, her warm breath upon your skin.

"You really can’t stand still, huh?" you sighed, even though a smile had escaped you.

But he no longer listened to you because his eyes were fixed on the bowl of strawberries and melted chocolate that I had prepared.

He remained silent for a few seconds, then breathed an almost ecstatic sigh.

«Noona,» he repeated in a completely different, almost revealing tone. «Do you have any idea what you are preparing?»

You hold back a laugh. "Should I?"

He barely stepped aside, looking at me with shining eyes. «Strawberries and chocolate are my greatest passion.» You turned slightly towards him, enjoy. "I know." Jungwon stared at you for a moment, then slowly held out his hand towards the bowl and you slapped him on the back before he could grab anything. "Wait a minute."

«But noona!» he complained, sulking.

You burst out laughing. "You’re such a spoiled kitten." He did not deny it, but his eyes were glued to the chocolate as if it was the most precious thing in the world and at that point, you realized that you had no hope: everything would end up in his hands in a few minutes.

Jungwon enthusiastically took the bowls of melted chocolate and strawberries and brought them to the table in front of the sofa, with the same excitement as a child who had just given his favorite sweet.

You sat next to him, but you did not make time to relax you heard him snort slowly and you turned towards him, finding him with the theatrical expression of an offended cat.

"What now?" you asked, pretending not to understand.

He crossed his arms. «Why didn’t you sit on my legs?» You raised your eyes to the sky. "Because I can feel fine sitting here too."

Jungwon sighed as if you had just broken his heart, but instead of complaining further, he came even closer, until he stuck to my side.

«Then I will stay here.» he declared, with a satisfied smirk, and shook his head laughing and took a strawberry, dipping it in chocolate.

He did the same, but after the first bite, his gaze turned to you with a mischievous flash and stared at your lips and you already knew it was going to tease you.

«Noona, have you ever wondered why strawberries with chocolate are considered the perfect food for Valentine’s Day?»

You looked at him suspiciously. "I don’t know, maybe because they’re sweet and romantic?"

He shook his head, biting another strawberry. «No, it’s because they are sensual.» You almost choked on my piece of strawberry and watched it with your mouth open, God knew that it was not innocent but not even at this level of audacity..."Excuse me?!"

Jungwon chuckled, pleased with your reaction. «Think of how they are eaten. They dip slowly into the chocolate...» He took a strawberry and did it, exaggerating with the gesture. «They are brought to the mouth with delicacy...» and bit it slowly, looking at you with a much too amused expression.

You cover your face with one hand. "You’re impossible."

He laughed, putting his chin on your shoulder. «Come on, admit that I am adorable,» he said

"Adorable? Annoying, rather," you said crossing your arms

«Yet you are still here.» You couldn’t fight back and finally smiled and shook your head, returning to eat but then, while you were distracted picking another strawberry, Jungwon suddenly stopped staring at you with glowing eyes.

«Noona...» he said softly.

"Hm?" you said looking at him as you ate your strawberry, he tilted his head, squinting as if he was considering something. «You got dirty.» You raised an eyebrow. "Where?" you said with a finger on his lips but he approached slowly, his hand lifted towards your face and his finger just touched the corner of your lower lip, and for a moment you thought it was going to clean you but instead... You felt the warmth of his lips on your skin.

A soft and unexpected touch, followed by something even bolder___his tongue just touched the corner of your mouth, picking up chocolate and your heart jumped a beat because his eyes would not stop bursting your lips and you did not react in time that Jungwon moved a few millimeters, watching you with a dangerously charming smile.

«Mh... good.» whispered to the top of your lips and your breath stuck in your throat then, without even giving you time to process, came closer again, this time taking completely your lips with hers.

The kiss was slow, sweet at first, almost a taste, as if it wanted to give you time to get used to the contact but then, feeling that you did not go away became more sure. His fingers went up your cheek, and his lips moved with natural confidence, without haste, but with an intensity that made you tremble slightly and feel him smile against your mouth as if he had gotten exactly what he wanted. His hands leaned on your hips and pushed you slightly on the couch, your back leaned completely and he began to kiss you this time more passionately and when it broke off, his eyes shone with fun mixed with something else, something deeper than that.

«Blondie Girl...» he murmured, his thumb touching your lower lip. «I’ve been thinking of nothing but kissing you since I came in.» you were speechless, your heart pounding in my chest and Jungwon bowed his head with a smug smirk. «So? Want another?»

You didn’t answer. But, this time you were the one who approached him, hearing his words and seeing that brazen smile on his lips, something inside of you lit up, so you took him by the collar of the shirt and drew him towards you, opening your lips to kiss him again.

This time, the kiss was no longer shy or hesitant. It was deeper, more sensual, charged with an energy that seemed to pulsate between you.

His lips moved against yours with overwhelming confidence, and the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the slightly sour note of strawberry, created something intoxicating, something that made you want to stick together.

You felt his hands hold your waist, pulling you even closer, and a shiver crossed your back as the kiss became more intense, almost possessive. Jungwon wasn’t just kissing you-he seemed to want to claim you.

When you finally took your breath away, he stood a few inches from you, his warm breath against your lips, and his eyes were darker, veiled by something you had never seen before.

Then, in a low and husky voice, I muttered: «Noona... do you trust me?»

His question made your eyes slightly open. Trust? It wasn’t that you were doubting him, but his tone, the way he looked at you, let you know he was going to do something that would change the atmosphere between you.

Swallowing, but in the end, you nodded slowly and that was all he needed.

In an instant, Jungwon made you lie on the big couch with almost disconcerting ease, and your breath stopped for surprise. His hands slipped down your hips as he settled you comfortably, and then, with a slow and deliberate gesture, slid the zip of your sweatshirt down, leaving the skin on your neck and collarbones exposed for him alone.

«The perfect...» he whispered, peering at the exposed part of your neck with an intent-filled gaze and saw him reach out a hand towards the still-warm chocolate bowl, and your body twitched slightly as you noticed what he was about to do.

"Jungwon," you said whispering.

Before you could finish the sentence, you felt the liquid heat of some chocolate drops slipping on your skin and a shiver passed through your back and bit your lip in an attempt to hold back a reaction and not moan.

Jungwon tilted his head, looking at me with a satisfied smile.

«Did you shudder, noona? You’re so adorable when you try to resist me, but I know you can’t,» he murmured, his silky voice charged with mischief and opened your mouth to answer, but before you could say anything, you felt his lips touch your skin just where the chocolate had settled.

The first kiss was light, almost innocent but then you felt his tongue picking up the chocolate with a slow and studied movement at the base of your lobe and your breath became shorter.

«You taste sweet...» he whispered against your skin, leaving you another kiss a little further down. «But I already knew that.»

His warm breath mixed with the contrast of the chocolate cooling on your skin, creating a feeling that gave you goosebumps.

«You know, Blondie Girl...» he continued, leaving another kiss on your neck. «I wondered for a while how you would taste.»

Your heart skipped a beat, God what had you been thinking of preparing those strawberries with that melted chocolate?

"Jungwon!" you rebuked him, but your voice had no conviction.

He chuckled softly, lifting his head slightly to look you in the eye.

«What’s the matter?» he asked, pretending to be innocent. «I’m just doing my cat duty...» He bent down again and left you another kiss, this time longer and more marked. «If you get dirty, I have to lick the chocolate off, don’t I?»

Closed your eyes, trying not to succumb to the sensations of those soft lips on your skin.

«Mh... noona, you taste dangerous.» He whispered, leaving you one last kiss on the collarbone before rising and positioning himself again above you.

His eyes were gleaming with fun, but also something deeper, he could not take his eyes off you and maybe you already knew that it would ruin you soon.

«I should get you dirty more often,» he concluded, biting his lip with a smug smirk. Jungwon looked at you from above, his eyes dark and bright, his chest rising and falling slightly for the accelerated breath. There was no trace of his usual mischievous boy there was something deeper in his features, something that made you tremble almost more than the warmth you still felt on your skin.

He lowered himself slowly, his face a few inches from yours. Then, with that voice that always made you shiver and ge murmured against your lips:

«Can I... do it anywhere, please noona?»

Your stomach squeezed. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but instead of looking away, you lost yourself in his eyes. There was something in the way he looked at you, a kind of adoration mixed with pure desire that made you feel safer than you ever imagined. Swallowing and yearling slowly, almost without noticing it Jungwon smiled, a smile more sweet than usual, but with that spark of mischief that never missed.

«Good girl.» whispered, and the tone with which he said it gave you goosebumps before you could say anything his hands slipped slowly on your waist, and in a fluid gesture took off your sweatshirt, leaving you alone with your bra and he stopped for a moment, looking at you with a look that made me hold my breath.

«Wow... all for me» he murmured, almost for himself.

You felt yourself blushing. «Stop looking at me like that.» You protested in a low voice. He smiled, tilting his head as his fingers gently touched your skin. «I can’t help it,» he said, his voice full of sincerity. «You are beautiful.»

He looked down at you and then nibbled on his lip. «I would say perfect.» His finger slid along your side, slowly. «Made just for me.»

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and before I could answer, he took the bowl with the chocolate still hot and just lifted it.

"Jungwon, what"

You felt the heat of the chocolate gliding slowly over your skin, starting from the neck, going down the collarbone to the center of your chest, reaching your breast, and drawing a warm line that made you shiver and whisper slightly at contact, and you felt it laugh softly.

«So reactive...» he muttered, stooping down immediately afterward to touch you with his lips.

The first kiss was gentle, almost innocent, as he picked up with his tongue a drop that had fallen just below the collarbone, then left another one, this time a little more marked, followed by a slight pressure of the teeth on your skin. You whispered again, and he smiled at me.

«I like this part of you,» he said, leaving another kiss along your breast. «The one that you miss for me.»

You felt more drops slip on the skin, lower this time near your breast

"Jungwon, I..." Whispering as you felt him lick you and tease the bud of your breast and pulled his hair still wet and he looked up slightly. «Tell me, Blondie Girl.»

The nickname sounded even more intimate at that time.

«You’re... you’re overdoing it.» You murmured, even though your body seemed to say otherwise and he bowed his head, the usual dangerous smirk on his lips.

«Really? It doesn’t seem like your body is telling me to stop, and your nipples are hard and I bet you’re excited down there!»

He didn’t even give you time to answer before lowering himself again, continuing to trace a path with his mouth along your body, picking up the chocolate that he had poured just before, But this time he went down closer and closer to your navel and groaned his name because it was all too much.

Now and then he would stop to chew you softly, to whisper a few comments in my ear.

«You are even sweeter so...»

«You know I could do this all night, right?»

«Who knows if chocolate would have the same effect on me...»

Every word, every kiss, every touch made you feel more and more lost, more and more his.

When he reached his navel and left a last light kiss on the skin, he lifted again, her face a few inches from yours.

«You know, Blondie Girl...» he murmured, brushing your lip with her thumb. «The more time passes, the more I realize something.»

Swallowing, trying to calm the heartbeat. "what?" you said with innocent action and he smiled even more.

«The more I try to play with you... the more you drive me crazy.» Jungwon looked at you with those bright eyes, full of desire but also fun, his chest rising and lowering slightly as he took a breath. Until that moment, it had always been him to lead the game, to provoke you, to make you lose control but this time it was you who wanted to drive him crazy, and with a decisive movement, you pushed him back, making him lie on the couch below you.

«Oh...» he said, surprised. «Noona is taking the lead?»

You ignored him, hands already on his shirt. You pulled it up slowly, discovering the warm skin and, the tense muscles under it. When you finally took it off completely, you stopped for a moment to observe him.

Jungwon leaned on his elbows, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

«Do you like what you see, Blondie Girl?»

Bite your lower lip, and have fun. He knew perfectly well that his body was perfect, that every line of his sculpted abs looked like it had been made to be admired. But you would never have given him that satisfaction so easily.

"Mh... you’re cute," you said in a deliberately uncaring tone, taking a strawberry from the tray next to us.

«Cute?!» he repeated, pretending to be offended.

You did not answer and slowly approached, holding the strawberry between your fingers, and with a gentle gesture you brought it to his lips and he raised an eyebrow but did not hesitate to open his mouth.

While he bit, his lips touched for a moment your fingers, and a shiver passed through your back, waiting for him to swallow before you lowered yourself and kissed him softly, your lips touching each other gently, still steeped in the sweet and slightly tart taste of strawberry and when you broke off, whispered against her lips:

«You were right... the contrast between strawberry and chocolate is deadly.»

He smiled his warm breath against my skin. «Especially on your lips.»

You were a little soft on those words, but you couldn’t let him take control so easily.

«Let’s see how long you last, Jungwon.» You murmured, taking the chocolate bowl and lifting it over him and his eyes widened slightly.

«Noona... wait a minute.»

You ignored his warning and slowly slipped a few drops along the sculpted line of his abs. The contrast between his warm skin and warm chocolate made him release a little involuntary moan, and you saw his muscles twitch under you and smile satisfied.

"Oh? Our little Wonie is sensitive?» you mocked him, tilting his head as your fingers brushed the chocolate on his skin.

He squinted and puffed. «Tsk... don’t think you’re in control, Blondie Girl.»

You lowered your head and kissed him right in the middle of your chest, picking up the chocolate with your lips. His breath became heavier, and when you came down with another kiss, he twitched slightly and you chuckled softly, barely lifting your eyes.

«You are moving too much.» you rebuked him softly.

Jungwon gave you a defiant look. «It’s not my fault that you decided to torture me.»

"Torture? Isn’t that what you just did to me?" you repeated, pretending to be surprised. "I thought you were fine."

«I’m too well, and that’s the problem,» he murmured, biting his lip.

You felt his abdomen twitch again beneath you as you left another kiss trail down her skin.

«Mh... Noona.» he did, his voice slightly hoarse.

You stopped and looked at him innocently. "Yes?"

Jungwon closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to maintain control, then opened them again and looked at you with a provocative grin.

«You’re driving me crazy,» he whispered. You approached his face, your noses almost touching each other. "Perfect," you said softly and Jungwon stood up slowly, then lifted slightly, sliding his hands down your hips but you gave him a stern look and took his hands into the couch and you climbed over his body again and started kissing them, Bite and torture from the crests of his muscles to get under his navel and saw a slight trail of small hairs and you couldn’t wait to hear and see what that boy was hiding. You licked and tortured that area and heard your name moaning and Jungwon said

«You are dangerous.» you started to laugh and you looked at him a moment with your hands close to the edge of his joggers and he nodded to let you know that you could take them off and when you did it you saw his V-line and his boxers brand and his dick covered that was already hard only thanks to you, you tried to put your hands in the edge of his boxers but with ease, Jungwon put you under him.

«Y/n, I would go crazy if you sucked my dick but today is Valentine’s Day and you girls are the center of attention so let me make you feel good, there will be other opportunities» You lured him to you for a brief kiss and after a while, he slipped your pants and a perverted smile formed on his lips.

«Fuck noona, you were so shy but you have a fucking outfit of Victoria's Secret matched and the only one who came to your house today was me»

You saw Jungwon lick her lips and your cheeks turned red as you saw how she looked at you.

"it’s just a coincidence," Jungwon started laughing and pinched your hips «Don’t lie to me Y/n, you can even admit that you were worried about making a good impression with me!» You raised your eyes to the sky and you felt shivering when you heard that her middle finger was poking at your soaked panties where there was your clitoris still covered.

«God, you’re already so wet» Jungwon took off your panties and with his wandering hand moved towards your core, using two of his long fingers to open you up, gaining more access before moving against your hole. The moan you let out didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon, it exerted more pressure on your clitoris and one of his fingers started pumping inside you, reaching the depth of your knuckles as he started pushing in and out.

"Oh, God, Won, just like that," You said as you felt the boy almost crouching to give you pleasure, you felt his tufts of hair make you slightly sunny and pulled them out and from all that stimulation, You didn’t realize he’d added a second finger until he started stretching you even further, pumping your fingers ever thicker. Jungwon felt as if it could come simply from the feeling of your walls that were squeezing around him and when he saw you almost coming he lowered his head, brushing your folds with his tongue to lick your entrance like a kitten, Burying his face in your pussy while sucking hear you blatering.

"Jungwon, I’m coming..." he teases you and licks all your slimy cum out of his fingers and your core.

«Fuck, I think the top 3 things they love are: chocolate in your body, the flavor mixed between strawberries and chocolate in our languages, and the taste of your excitement» he laughed putting his hands on your face because it was too cheeky at that moment, Jungwon took your hands and removed them from your face and gave you a little kiss on the forehead.

"So at the beginning of the evening, you said that I would be yours, you still want me to be your Jungwon."

«God you are a temptation to all the effects noona, sure of wanting to become mine because I could become very much territorial with you»

"I like territorial boys, Jungwon!" You undressed his boxer shorts and holy shit his dick was nicer than any you had ever seen, the tip slightly red from the blood flowing. Jungwon sucked it up a bit and before entering gave you a little lip kiss «Ready noona?» Yearning to hear it around you, his lips met yours as he slowly pushed against your narrow walls, swallowing all the sweet sounds you made. A choked thrill came out of your open lips when it hit bottom, «I can not yet move noona strong.» Jungwon moaned as you huddled around him, your blurry eyes trying their best to focus on him and his ruffled hair, but every little movement of his hips made you feel like heaven.

However, the fact that he remained motionless only made your burning need worse and you needed him to move. Moving your hips, a choked moan came out of your lips as your hand wrapped around his biceps.

"Move. God, please move Jungwon. I need you" Suffocated, head falling backwards against the pillows as he kissed your neck.

«So impatient, but who am I to deny all this? I have been dreaming of this moment for months» He chuckled before pushing himself inside you.

The first shot of his cock against your walls was like paradise, but when he saw that you were able to take it more and more his rhythm became anything but delicate; at each push, its tip kissed your cervix, leaving you a wretched mess.

"Wonie!" You shouted his name when he moved just enough to touch your weak point, leaving that small tears to come down your face. Your nails stuck in his biceps as you tried to root, but it was useless; he was just fucking you too well.

«Fuck noona, look how deep they are. After tonight, you won’t be satisfied with anything but me» He moaned as he freed your side to grab your wrist before pressing it against your lower abdomen.

You felt the outline of his cock against your stomach, but when he pressed, a choking groan ripped from your lips. The pressure made you feel even more him as he fucked you and you didn’t understand anything anymore, it was all too much but Jungwon seemed to know very well what to do with your body and moved his hand down until his thumb pressed against your clitoris, Thrusting your hips in his grip.

A series of groans and broken tears came out of your lips as his rhythm increased.

"W-Won, fuck! I’m close, Jungwon!" You screamed, the hand wrapped around his wrist as you felt that spiral in the pit of your stomach tighten.

«Come for me, darling. Mess with my cock.» His words were the last drop before the edges of your sight became white and your body contracted under his.

«That’s it, give me everything.» He spoke but was interrupted by a groan when you clenched around him like a vice.

His breaths began to come out with difficulty as he fucked you through your orgasm and closer to his. The grip of his hand on your hips would certainly have left marks, but neither of you cared at that time.

«Fuck noona, I’m sick!» he chanted, his whole body trembling as he came, painting your walls white with his seed. Slowing to a halt, he lay down against you, face buried in your neck as you both came down from your heights and he embraced you.

Jungwon held you close to him, his chest warm against your back, while his fingers drew slow circles on my side. Now and then he’d give you a little tap, just to make you shudder.

"Will you stop tormenting me?" you protested, trying to move.

«NO,» he answered immediately, squeezing even more, you snorted, but could not help smiling. His breath was slightly irregular, indicating that he too was still a little shaken by everything that had happened. But of course, as a good Jungwon, he would never admit it.

Stand like that for a few seconds, in that relaxing silence, until you feel him breathing deeply, as if he was going to say something important.

«Noona...» he murmured.

"Mh?" you replied distractedly, still with your eyes closed. He came a little closer to your ear, the voice so low and sweet that it almost gave you shivers.

«Would you like to be my girlfriend?» You froze for a second, then burst out laughing.

«What’s so funny?» he moaned. You turned slightly to look at him, finding his dark and careful eyes pointed at you. "Jungwon, but do you realize how cliché it is to ask me on Valentine’s Day?"

He bowed his head, pretending to be confused. «So?»

"So no!" you said, laughing again. "Too obvious, too romantic, too movie-like."

«Ah, I understand.» he nodded, pretending to think. «If I ask you today it’s not okay. And if I ask you tomorrow?»

"Mh... much better." Jungwon stood up quietly and pinched your side. «Then it’s decided: on February 15th and tomorrow you will become my official girlfriend.»

"Oh? Who said I would say yes?» He looked at you with an offended expression. «Noona, after all that we went through tonight do you still have doubts about me?»

"Mh... maybe I’m just keeping your attention level up," you replied with a mischievous smile.

He stared at you for a moment, then came even closer, his lips barely touching my cheek. «Don’t worry, blonde girl,» he whispered. «You have my full attention.»

You leaned back slightly, trying not to blush too much. «That’s it.»

Jungwon smiled satisfied and gave you a slight bite on the shoulder. «Then let’s make things clear: on February 15 you become mine. End of discussion.»

"But how end of the discussion?" you burst out laughing. "Where is my right to speak?"

«You lost it when you decided to drive me crazy all the time and ask me before you make mine,» he replied with a dangerous smirk.

You looked at him as if you were indignant. "You know that you are just unbearable?" He nodded as if it was the greatest compliment. «It is. But you like me that way.»

You snorted, but you both knew that you would never deny that truth.

You remained silent for a few seconds, then he murmured: «You know what it means, right?»

"What?"

«That our anniversary will be the day after Valentine’s Day.»

You thought about it for a moment, then sighed. "Fantastic... we’ll be condemned to double dinners, double gifts, and double sweetness every year."

Jungwon laughs. «Exactly. Do you like my genius? And don’t forget my birthday!»

You stared at him for a second, then let yourself go in a smile. "Yes... I have to admit that this time you had a good idea."

He lit up. «So you agree to make the 15th of February our day?»

You sighed theatrically. "All right, all right. But only because I don’t want to be engaged on a day like today." Jungwon squeezed you even more, making a little satisfied noise, like a cat that has just been cuddled.

«Noona... you are a rare case.»

"And you are impossible."

«I know it.»

You smiled at each other, no need to say more. Because even if you didn’t say it openly, you both knew what you felt for each other.

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[raz-writes-the-thing]

Ashes to Ashes (Beetlejuice One-Shot)

Betelgeuse x GN!Reader / 18+ / requests are open

Summary: Beej does not love it when you talk to strangers at the bar. He likes it even less when you laugh at their jokes.

Fic type: smut

EVERYTHING: @winchxters @calliopesdiary @xxxsugarcyanidexxx

BEETLEJUICE: @im-eating-rn (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not so fuckin' funny now, huh?" BJ snorts, fingers wrapped around your throat just the way you like. He's got a cigarette dangling from his lips- something that he only does when he's feeling dominant, feeling possessive. When he wants you to think he doesn't care. It's just an act, of course, and if you were to ask him to stop, he would but he knows you like it when he plays mean.

He is mean, technically.

"F-fuck, Beej, I'm sorry," you gasped between short breaths. Fucking hell his fingers felt good on your throat. The added chill of his skin just set your body off with tingles.

"Were his jokes funny, babe? Funnier than mine? What, think he can make you cum harder than I can, huh? Please, you'd be fuckin lost without me an' my magic fuckin' fingers buried in that cunt."

True, but he'd be lost without you, too. That's what this was, a display of his affection in his own fucked up way. In your way, too.

"Look at'cha, fucked dumb already and I've barely even touched you. Bet if I held on tight enough you'd cum over my hand on your throat, wouldn't you?" He snorted again before snapping his fingers with his other hand- suddenly, you were sat on his moth-eaten lounge, his hand still caught tight around your windpipe. He had you on his lap, straddling one suit-striped thigh.

"Go on, then, fuck yourself dumb on my leg, babe. Y'know y'wanna." A slick smile slid across his features as he pulled your face closer so he could plant his tongue on your cheek and trail it up the side of your face. "I know y'wanna, too, dollface."

His fingers loosened to allow more air through your windpipe and you sagged against him with the rush of it. Not that you couldn't breathe before, but you just felt giddy with the rush of it.

Experimentally, you rolled your hips against his thigh, delighting in the jolt of pleasure that rolled up your spine. Betelgeuse took another puff of his cigarette, looking almost completely unbothered.

"What, that all you got? Jeez, what d'I even keep you around for, eh?"

His nonchalant attitude and mean words should not have turned you on as much as they did, and neither should the way he exhaled his cigarette smoke in your face. But it did. You felt a bloom of heat unfurl in your lower belly.

"Gettin' off t'bein bullied now, huh, babe? Interesting," he inhaled once more. Blowing it out the side of his mouth, he added, "Yeah, don't think I didn' notice that. Y'can't fuckin lie to me, babe."

Unconsciously, you chewed on the inside of your lip, in thought over this revelation. Beej sighed exasperatedly as he reached into your mouth and pulled your lip from the confines of your teeth.

"Don' do that- now, if you're done fuckin thinkin', hurry up and make yourself cum if you wanna keep daddy happy, baby."

You didn't need to be told twice. Picking up the pace, you rolled your hips against the smooth fabric of his trousers. BJ threw one arm around the back of the couch and held his cigarette in the other. He watched you, looking almost bored as you brought yourself to a whimpering mess for him.

He may have been trying to appear bored, but he could never hide that adoring little glint in his eye when he was truly enamoured by something you were doing. Rolling your hips and losing yourself to pleasure you were creating for yourself was something he could never get used to watching, but he sure did want to try.

"C'mon baby," he sighed, flicking the ashes so they fell over your flushed skin. "You can do it, yeah. Fuckin' cum for me."

You whimpered, hand reaching out to grab at his clothed bicep. Betelgeuse clicked his tongue but didn't remove your arm, watching as your movements grew jerky and your moans cut off in soft hitches of breath.

Another roll, two, and sparks shot from your nerve endings. Your thighs tightened around his own and Betelgeuse's hand slid down from the back of the lounge to curl around your hip, squeezing hard enough to hurt.

You groaned, hips slowly coming to a stop. You leaned forward, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck as you panted heavily with the comedown.

Beej reached around your neck to take one last puff before he put out the cigarette on the back of the couch like the grub he is. You peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses to his relatively cold skin, and he turned to pull you into a proper kiss.

"There now see," he grumbled, though the quirk of a smile told you he wasn't that upset any more. "No more fuckin talkin' to guys at the bar, babe, yeah?"

"Yes sir," you answered, tired and sated.

[supercap2319]

Clark Kent and his childhood best friend, a wizard, Clark has a bisexual awakening and gives up Lana for the reader, something cute, I'm kind of needy

Best Friends

Y/N watched with an amused grin as his best friend fell down at the dainty feet of Lana Lang? Again? He couldn't help enjoying the entertainment value of Clark Kent making a fool of himself for a girl who was too needy and popular. Clark could have his pick of dozens older, and more importantly, legal girls. They all fell for that farm boy sweetness and Boy Scout charm.

Clark had been crushing on Lana since the third grade and while it had been cute in elementary school, now, it was just sad. Like a bad Netflix rom-com, where the nerdy guy gets the very pretty, and very unattainable popular girl. It just wasn't fair in Y/N's opinion. Lana wouldn't give Clark the time of day, no matter how hard the farm boy tried. He just wasn't what Lana was looking for. Probably a gay best friend or even a friend, but not a lover.

It didn't matter anyways. Clark always got sick and pale around Lana, and they both knew the reason for it. It was that damn meteorite necklace that she always wore around her neck. It was a green diamond, tied by a silver cord. Lana started wearing it after the meteor shower hit Smallville. It was around the same time that Clark came into their lives.

Clark was an alien from another planet, who arrived in Kansas in a spaceship. Mr. and Mrs. Kent adopted him as their son, and the rest was history. At least until Y/N found out Clark's secret. It was third grade, and Clark had accidentally hovered in front of Y/N. It had shocked him, but he understood what it was like to keep a secret. 

Y/N was from a long line of wizards with wands, spells, and magic. The whole nine yards, if you will. That's where their friend became stronger than anyone else in their friend group. Stronger than Pete's. Stronger than Chloe's. Y/N and Clark were an unstoppable duo, until it came to Lana.

“Hey, Clark. Hi, Lana.” Y/N said. He picked up a few of the books Clark had dropped when he was trying to act cool in front of Lana. He didn't hate but, man, he really wished he could portal her into another dimension. Clark would not be happy with him if he did that, but it was a comforting thought.

“Sorry, I didn't pick you up, man. I was up late last night finishing an article for the Torch, and Chloe will kill me if I don't have it in her snarky, dainty hands by the time the bell rings.”

“That's okay. I managed.” Clark gave Y/N a secret smile. An inside joke between them. They both knew Clark was referring to his super-speed. He must have used it to catch—beat the school bus to school.

Lana, was momentarily forgotten about. At least she was, until she cleared her throat, gaining both boy's attention. “Glad you weren't hurt, Clark. That was a pretty nasty fall.” Lana said, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. Made her look so innocent and pretty, that Y/N wanted to gag.

Apparently, it worked on innocent farm boys, because Clark was grinning ear to ear, a slight blush on his handsome face. “Thanks, Lana. I'm fine.” Of course he was. He was Indestructible, until he got near that green meteor rock, and suddenly all Clark's powers and abilities were replaced by pain and nausea.

“I'm glad. See you guys around.” She turned on her heel and left, joining her friends in the social patriarchy that was high school. 

……

That night, at the Kent farmhouse, Y/N and Clark were up in the loft (Fortress of Solitude as Clark likes to call it) working on an assignment for school. After this morning's disaster of America's Funny Home Videos, Clark had begged Y/N to sign up with him and Pete for the football team. Football was Y/N's style, but he did it for Clark. True, Mr. Kent was gonna be upset when he found out what Clark had done, but hey, it was worth it, right?

Clark had been wanting to join the football team since 6th grade peewee league, but Mr. and Mrs. Kent was afraid he might accidentally hurt someone with his powers, so they forbade him from competing in any sports. It was kind of sad, really. Clark never get to experience the highs and lows of being on a team of meathead jockstraps, as Chloe affectionately references to them.

“This is boring. Let’s take a break and order a pizza. I'm starving.” Y/N tossed his math book on Clark's desk. The taller boy shot him a pointed look. “And who says you're in charge? It's my fortress, I decide what we do.” Clark grinned.

“I've been making the decisions since we were in diapers, Kent. You can't be insubordinate now.” Y/N grins back. It was nothing serious between them. Just two super-powered teenagers looking to unwind after boring algebra. 

“Oh, yeah? And who's gonna stop me? I have the phone right here.” Clark held up Y/N's phone with a grin on his face. Y/N waved a hand, and the phone came flying into his hands. “Checkmate, Clark. The guy with the wizard powers always wins. Just ask Harry Potter.”

In a blur, Clark had Y/N’s phone in his hands once again, waving it around in a teasing way. “I got the phone. Gonna order pineapple and anchovies.” He turns to walk down the steps of the loft, towards the ground floor barn. Y/N lifts Clark into the air using his powers and grunts. He's heavier than he looks. He turns Clark to face him. "You do realize there are about 6 different ways I can break free of this."

Y/N smiled interested. "Take your best shot, Kent.”

Clark smiles as he just starts spinning around in mid air thanks to Y/N keeping him up. At a human speed at first,  but eventually it picks up momentum until he becomes a red and blue tornado. Y/n stumbles and loses his grip on him, and Clark lands feet first on the floor.

“You cheat!” Y/N accuses.

“Nah, I didn't cheat. You just suck at magic, dude. Or just plain suck, if you know what I mean.” Clark's eyes wiggled in a teasing way. Y/N growls and charges before feeling his back on the plush couch. Clark was on top of him, pinning him down. He grins and leans downward. “You're all mine, tough guy.”

“And just what do you plan on doing?” Y/N asked.

“This.”

Clark leans downward and kisses Y/N. It was soft and sweet, like taffy. Clark tasted like the powerade and peanut butter sandwich he had for lunch today. It was a strangely appealing taste. The kiss was something and everything that Y/N imagined with Clark. He had a crush on his best friend! He was so screwed.

A few moments later, Clark pulled back with a blush on his cheeks, replacing the cocky guy, who was just pinning him down a second ago. “Y/N? I think I'm bisexual, and I have a crush on you. Please don't hate me.”

“Hate you? Clark, you're my best friend. I could never hate you, but I will admit that I've been crushing on you too.” Y/N blushed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really, but what about Lana?” Y/N asked. This was definitely not the way to win her affections. Not by kissing boys, who are your best friend in a barn loft.

“Who cares about her? I got someone even better.” Clark leans down once again, placing a chaste kiss on Y/N's lips.

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part5. front-row tickets to the show

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: you’ve got in a huge fight with Vi about last night, there are two options now. either you lose her forever or make things right

・❥・ genre: smut + grumpy x sunshine

・❥・ word count: 2.6k

✎ warnings: 18+, SMUT, dom!vi, swearing, teasing, verbal fight, drug use (weed)

MINORS DNI!

RIDE ON ME masterlist

thank God it's Saturday, so you’re not missing any classes because of your hangover. it felt like your head was going to split open the moment you opened your eyes. it took you nearly an hour after waking up to finally lift your body out of bed. what drove you was an overwhelming thirst, but even if water had run out in the entire world, you still wouldn’t have gone to the kitchen after last night. drinking straight from the tap it is, then.

the terrible metallic taste of the water made you grimace, but it was such a relief to finally quench your thirst. you grabbed some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet, praying that it would save you from this headache.

finding your phone, you were surprised to see 15 text messages from your classmates. they had created a group chat called "rum and cola," how very funny. just the thought of alcohol made you nearly gag right there on the floor. you texted them back, saying you were fine and that you'd fill them in on Monday. "what will I even say?"

after that, you fell asleep again, waking up to the delicious smell of chicken later in the evening. that aroma pulled you to the door, where you stood listening. it seemed like someone was cooking in the kitchen. you dragged yourself to the shower, freshened up, and finally took off that damn dress, replacing it with some home shorts and a T-shirt. for at least ten minutes, you hesitated by the door, thinking of what to say to Vi. it reminded you of the day you two first met, how you stood at the door rehearsing a line. that memory made you smile, and you felt a warmth inside - probably the only normal evening you’d had since living here.

“okay, just stay calm,” - you muttered to yourself as you opened the door, and the mouthwatering smell of chicken hit you, making you close your eyes and savor it.

“after a rough night, you should get plenty of sleep and a good meal. you’ve already done the first, so now sit on the couch, dinner will be ready in five minutes,” - Vi said in a calm voice, but there was a slight tension in her body.

you looked at her with nervous eyes - "we need to talk, but how?" - and you quietly made your way to the couch, sitting on the edge, hands on your knees, rubbing them together from the anxiety.

“thanks for making me dinner,” - you said sincerely, forcing a smile, hoping she’d look at you.

“I'm cooking for myself, but I can't let you die of a hangover,” - she replied in that same cold tone, not even looking at you, as if you were talking to her back.

"no, not now, I can't just pretend nothing happened," - you thought, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "we have to talk, something happened between us, and I have so many emotions, I feel like I'm going to burst."

“Vi, thank you,” - you said, your voice trembling a bit.

“you already thanked me for dinner, remember?” - she said, still not turning to you as she continued cooking the chicken.

“no, I mean... thank you for taking me home last night. sorry about that stupid joke on the phone. and thank you for...” - you paused, your eyes shifting to her pink hair as you stared at the back of her head. “thank you for not taking advantage of me last night. I wasn’t myself,” you blurted out in a single breath.

Vi's muscular shoulders tensed slightly at your words, and she raised her head, staring at the wall in the kitchen for a few seconds before lowering it again and resuming her cooking. that reaction only upset you more, turning your tears into anger. you jumped to your feet, shouting across the kitchen, - “why won't you look at me?! we almost… at least talk to me! I'm already ashamed of my behavior, and you're not helping!”

when Vi finally turned to you, her face was filled with a level of anger you’d never seen before. “are you fucking kidding me? who do you think you are?” - she growled, stepping toward you until she was just an arm's length away. your face twisted in shock. “you said Kate was bad, but at least she doesn’t pretend to be some good girl who goes to class during the day and then gets so drunk at night that she doesn’t know who she's spreading her legs for," - she spat, her face flushed with rage.

“what? why are you so angry with me?” - you asked, wiping away your tears.

“because you've been here for three days, and you're already causing more problems than if you'd lived here for a year. you invade my life, eavesdrop when I'm having sex, tease me, get wasted, then beg to be fucked, rubbing up against me like I'm some toy for you to play with, and then the next morning you say I could have taken advantage of you?” - Vi was barely holding back from exploding in fury.

“but I just wanted to thank you,” - you stammered in confusion.

“I’d like to see how your classmate you were grinding on will be able to stop himself next time when you're lying there in front of him with wet panties, moaning about how badly you want to be fucked,” - her words were like knives, cutting deep. you couldn't hold back your tears anymore, they streamed down your face as you looked at Vi in stunned disbelief.

she just lowered her head for a few seconds, then threw the towel she had been holding at you and turned to leave, saying, “finish cooking yourself. I see you've got your energy back. enjoy your meal.”

at night, you couldn't sleep. her words still hurt you. yes, you acted strangely, you crossed a line. you turned to the window, looking at the stars - "maybe I should find another place to stay?". you sat on the bed, tucking your knees under yourself, lowering your head onto them, and holding it with your hands. “no, I have to fix this, she helped me.”

with these words, you headed straight to Vi's room - no more rehearsals or games, you had to say what was on your mind. it was quiet in her room, it was late, and she might be sleeping. “Vi, are you awake?” - you asked softly, and after a moment, you heard a moving in the room. “I know you hear me. can I come in?” - you asked carefully.

“come in,” - Vi's voice came from behind the door. you opened the door and stepped into her room. you noticed a punching bag, an unmade bed, posters of bands you had never heard of, clothes scattered on the floor, and an open window with an ashtray on the sill containing a lit joint. you walked over to her, Vi was sitting on the bed, so you sat down next to her.

“can I?” - you asked, gesturing to the joint.

“help yourself,” - she said. you took a drag from the joint and placed it back. the thick smoke instantly filled your mind, making you feel a bit lighter.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I know you wouldn't have done anything that I would've regretted in the morning. It's just that I feel an intense pull toward you,” - you said, looking her in the eyes. “I've never felt like this before, I think I just don't know how to act around you,” - you exhaled.

Vi continued to look you straight in the eyes.

you went on, - “I'm sorry for acting yesterday like you were just some toy that didn't mean anything. please understand, we haven't spent much time together, but I think about you constantly - I wake up with thoughts of you, and I fall asleep with them. I hope you're not mad at me.” - you took a deep breath before saying, - “In the morning, I'll start looking for another place to stay, and I'll try to move out by the end of next week.” Vi just stared at you attentively, not saying a word.

“thank you for listening. I'm sorry if I disturbed you,” - you said as you were about to get up and leave, but Vi grabbed your hand and pulled you toward her.

your lips met, and for a moment, you sat there with your eyes open, not quite understanding what was happening, until you finally surrendered to her soft lips. the kiss was so gentle that you almost melted, and then she reluctantly pulled away. Vi looked into your eyes, gently caressing your cheek.

“Vi, what…?”

“forgive me too, cupcake,” - she said softly. “I didn't mean to hurt you with my words tonight. yes, you made me really mad, but that's no excuse. what you said about me taking advantage of you - it really hit me. what happened between us was one of the most real moments I've felt in a long time. you coming into my life turned everything upside down.” - she continued to hold your surprised face in her hands.

“I couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching you, other than me. I would never hurt you or do anything without your consent.”

you reached for another kiss, this time more passionate, as her strong arms pulled you closer by the waist. your legs practically went weak from that movement. she was so captivating and mesmerizing. your lips intertwined, and you kissed her so fervently that you started to run out of breath. finally, you broke away for air, looking into her eyes once again.

“and if I gave you my consent? what would you do?" you asked, and the question made Vi smirk. she leaned in close to your neck and placed a gentle kiss, sending shivers down your spine. then, she whispered in a seductive voice into your ear, “I'd take you right here, undress you, and lay you on the bed. I wouldn’t rush - I’d explore every inch of your body. after I made you come, I'd have you everywhere - in the kitchen, on the couch, in the shower. I'd do things to you that would make you blush just thinking about them."

her confession made a wave of heat rise in your lower abdomen, and you closed your eyes, picturing the scene. you were brought back to reality by another kiss on your neck.

“then consider that you have my permission,” - you said, tilting your head to give her better access to your neck. but she pulled back and gave you the most seductive look.

“don't joke like that, cupcake,” - she said, leaning in to lick your lips.

"Vi, I want you. take me," - you said, and that was all she needed to hear.

Vi closed the distance between you so fast that you didn't even have time to blink. her lips devoured you hungrily. you ran your hands over her muscular arms, passionately kissing her lips. realizing the effect her touch had on you, she pulled you even closer with those strong arms. the heat radiating from her body was almost scorching, and you felt her heavy breath against your chest. her hands roamed over your back until one cold palm slipped under your shirt and settled on your waist. the unexpected chill against your heated skin made you moan. Vi noticed and smiled, pausing the kiss for a second. it was so seductive that you rolled your eyes back.

you tangled your hand in her hair, tugging it just slightly, which made Vi's neck arch toward you. you ran your tongue along her neck, and a low groan escaped her lips - the sexiest sound you had ever heard in your life.

taking advantage of the moment, you pressed your hand against her chest, pushing her back onto the pillow. her disheveled pink hair, swollen lips, and that sly smile drove you wild. wasting no time, you straddled her so that her thigh was between your legs. you loved the feel of her solid body beneath you. wrapping your legs around hers tighter, you arched your back, feeling the pressure against your core, which sent waves of pleasure through your body.

when Vi saw you arching on top of her, it was like she completely lost control to the desire surging through her. she grabbed you by the shirt and bit down on your neck, causing a moan to rip out of your throat that echoed through the room.

“do you like being on top, cupcake?” - Vi murmured into your neck, the vibration from her sultry voice traveling straight from your neck to your pussy. if you weren't sure how wet you were before, it was undeniable now, as a wet spot began to appear on your shorts.

“you said you wanted me to ride on you. I'm giving you front-row tickets to the show,” you winked at her.

the idea that you remembered her words drove Vi wild.

“don't stop then," she whispered almost breathlessly.

you continued to move your hips, taking pleasure in the pressure building between your legs. Vi pulled off your shirt and practically growled when she realized you weren't wearing a bra. "I wonder how she'll react to the fact that I'm not wearing any panties either," - you thought to yourself, biting your lower lip.        

Vi tossed your shirt to the floor and leaned back on the pillow, enjoying the show. your soft moans filled the room, the way you threw your head back, moved your hips, and hold her leg in front of you with your hands, bringing your tits together - it was like a drug to her. she placed one hand on your thigh, helping you to move a little faster, while the other reached up to your breasts.

when Vi's fingers touched your nipples, you rolled your eyes back. her touches were slow and deliberate, as if she wanted to savor every moment. her thumb started to gently massage your hardened nipple, pinching and teasing them, giving attention to every inch of you while you rode on her desperately.

you felt the wave of your orgasm building, so you began to move faster. Vi noticed it too, gripping your hips with both hands, guiding and encouraging your movements. your moans grew louder, and when you finally looked down at her, you saw the way she was watching you - her eyes taking in every move you made. her gaze was so intense that you almost wanted to hide, yet at the same time, you wanted to show her how proud you are to be hers.

as you were on the brink of your climax, you heard the words that drove you over the edge, "yes, cupcake, come for me."

[pearlessance]

Locked Doors - Idle Threats [ii]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Chapter Summary — You leave your front door unlocked. The devil invites himself in.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI, brat taming, age gap, mean!Joel, religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt

SERIES MASTERLIST

[crossposted to AO3]

In truth, Joel is glad to be rid of you.

Not because he didn’t enjoy himself, but because he’d enjoyed the night with you too much. The two of you had fallen into an easy, respectful energy for the remainder of your watch. 

Joel discovers you’re quite funny when he isn’t the butt of all your jokes. And he knows you’re beautiful, painfully so—but when you smile at him, truly smile, it lights up your whole face and ignites a warmth inside him he can’t explain, that he doesn’t even want to think about. 

So, yeah, it’s a bit of a relief when the next two watchmen take over and you go your separate ways. Joel sleeps real heavy that night, more relaxed than he’s been since he set foot in Jackson.

Until Tommy knocks on his door that afternoon, that is. The moment Joel opens it his brother asks, “What the hell did you do to her last night?”

Joel feels his anxiety spike. Tommy knows him better than anyone else, and he’s not sure why he thought your tryst in the tree blind would ever be kept secret. And he knows he shouldn’t lie, but he’s too embarrassed, too afraid of his brother’s judgment. So he shrugs and says, “We…had a conversation.”

“Conversation?” Tommy laughs and shakes his head, pushing into Joel's house. He sits at the kitchen table beside Ellie, who’s shoveling a bite of scrambled eggs into her mouth. “Nah. Nah, I don’t believe that.”

Hesitantly, Joel asks, “Why not?”

“That girl has been a pain in my ass every single day. Someone has a complaint about her, or she’s hollerin’ about something or other. Never does as she’s told—fights Maria and I on everything.” 

You listened to him real well last night. Joel resists the smirk that tugs on his lips.

Tommy continues. “So, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when she comes knockin’ this morning asking Maria if she can take the rest of Mike’s shifts. After she threw a big tantrum about having to cover one of them.”

No. No. Joel’s mouth goes dry. 

He can’t spend another night with you. He can’t. He’s not strong enough.

Ellie’s brows furrow together as she looks between the two brothers. “Who?”

“Strawberry scone,” Joel supplies with a casual wave of his hand.

“Oh, my future wife,” Ellie corrects. Then she turns to Tommy with a scowl. “Be nice when you talk about her.”

“She ain’t nice,” he counters. 

Joel remembers how nice you’d been, begging him for mercy, begging for his hands, his mouth, his cock. How nice it sounded when you apologized to him, using that warm, wet tongue of yours as a weapon. He swallows. “We just talked. That’s all.”

Tommy eyes him suspiciously but doesn’t push the subject and Joel’s grateful for it. Instead, he says, “Yeah, well—maybe y'all can have a conversation about her giving Maria a break. She’s been back from that run for a month and she still won’t even talk to her. Maria’s tried, but she pretends she can’t hear or see her. Like she’s invisible.”

Ellie chuckles but quiets herself with another bite of eggs when Joel turns and scowls at her.

It’s a valid concern, Joel thinks. Maria and Tommy have been good to the people of Jackson, have been good to you. Given you a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, the protection of monitored walls. All in exchange for a little physical labor. 

Joel doesn’t know what happened on that run for Maria’s barbecue flavored chips, but he understands being angry. Complete and total silent treatment is a bit harsh, however. And for weeks at a time? It’s childish, absurd—bratty. He gives his brother a reassuring nod. “I’ll…see what I can do.”

Tommy thanks him, steals a forkful of Ellie’s eggs, and bolts out of the door as she yells after him. 

Once he’s gone and the noise has quieted, the panic begins to set in. 

He can’t be in there with you for another night. Joel knows he has to do something, find someone to cover his watch. Maybe Bonnie will be willing to switch him for a day or two. Just until Mike returns, until Joel can control his errant desires.

“I’ve got some stuff to get done today,” he tells Ellie. 

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, just…don’t go far,” he says, evading her question. “And don’t go alone, either. Stay with Dina.”

He half expects her to make some witty remark, but she must see something in him that stops her. Ellie nods slowly and asks, “Everything okay?”

No, it wasn’t. Not even close. But there’s no subtle way to explain his turmoil, no words to make her understand that Joel was currently at odds with himself and his morals. That perhaps he’d damned himself, damned you, all for a single night of perfect bliss. So he shrugs and says, “Fine.”

Bonnie’s house is a short walk from his. And when she opens the door, Joel can see her son lying on the couch in the living room. His cheeks are red and he’s got his thumb in his mouth, staring off into space. He can’t be older than four, and Joel begins to feel guilty before he can even say a word. “Joel? Everything alright?”

God, what was with people and that question today? Joel looks away from the little boy on the couch and instead at his mother, who has the same blonde curls. 

He has to ask, doesn’t he? He has to. This is about more than just his peace of mind. It’s about your safety. Safety from him. And you deserve that, after all. Being a brat doesn’t mean you deserve to be preyed upon by an older man. 

So, Joel swallows and forces the words out. “Hey, Bonnie. I was just wondering if maybe you could switch with me tonight. I’ll take your watch today if you’ll take the night shift.”

Please say yes. Please say yes. 

Her green eyes soften, and Joel knows the answer before she speaks. “Oh, I…I’m sorry, Joel. It’s just that Sammy is sick, and…and I feel bad enough being gone all afternoon, you know? And I don’t want to leave him during the night. You can understand, right?”

He nods quickly, not wanting to make more of a scene than he already has. “No, yeah, of course. Completely. I’m sorry I asked.”

They say their goodbyes, and Bonnie suggests that he ask Greg instead. 

But that thought unnerves him even more than being alone with you himself. 

Greg is older than Joel by almost ten years, pushing sixty-five. And he doesn’t think he’s that type of guy—but Joel didn’t think he was that type of guy until he’d been left alone with you, either. 

Maybe he’s wrong, though. Maybe Greg has more morality. Maybe he’s not as bad a man as Joel. Maybe he has more resistance to the forbidden fruit.

Maybe you’re safer with him.

It’s because of that particular thought Joel winds up on Greg’s porch.

And Greg gives him that same sympathetic look Bonnie did, and Joel’s back to square one. “I’ll ask around, though,” Greg says. “See if anyone else is willing.”

Joel thanks him, and busies himself in the stables, in the armory, in anything that keeps his hands busy and his thoughts far from you. He sends a prayer to whatever god may exist, hoping Greg will find him and let him know someone is interested in his shift. Not that Joel would be deserving of forgiveness nor a favor— especially from anyone worth praying to—but it doesn’t hurt to try. 

Nightfall comes too soon and eventually, he decides that maybe it’s better to seek out the source of the problem. To tear out the rot by the roots.

You answer the door after the second knock. You’re leaning against the frame, wearing those jeans again—that dark wash denim that’s skin tight, a gentle stitch of gold down the seam of the pockets.

Joel wonders where you found them, wonders how it’s possible that he’s been reduced to finding so much sex appeal in a pair of jeans, for Christ’s sake. Your black t-shirt is cut into a low V shape, and your breasts are pushed up because of your bra, providing him with a view so tempting it hurts.

“I hear you’re trying to get rid of me,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “If you didn’t like me, the least you could do is say so. Kinda shitty I had to find out from Greg, of all people.” You turn away from him and walk inside, leaving the door wide open. 

It’s an invitation. But Joel hesitates, because he knows, he knows what happens when he’s alone with you. Knows just how far he’ll go, how much he wants it. He’s not sure if it’s desire or shame or excitement that coils around his spine, gripping tight.

But it’s rude, isn’t it, to refuse? It’s not like you’re doing anything to tempt him apart from existing. Joel can handle that, can’t he? He’ll just explain himself. Have a quick five minute conversation about why he needs to avoid you at all costs, why you cannot—cannot—be on watch duty with him for another day.

And then he’ll leave. Wipe his hands clean of the guilt, the sin, of you. 

Joel walks inside and closes the door behind him. “You need to tell Maria you can’t be on watch tonight,” he says. 

Your house is small but cozy, more personalized than the other homes in Jackson. Cluttered with things you no doubt picked up on some of your runs—framed photos of landscapes, whimsically shaped, half-burned candles, a crinkled and slightly water damaged band poster that reads The Bravery. The kitchen on his left is quaint, the counters occupied by stacks of old, worn books. There’s an old vase with a faded picture of a cat sitting on the stove, filled with mismatched utensils. A small, square table sits in the corner with two upholstered chairs and in front of one of them, a leather-bound journal sits with a pen beside it.

Joel suddenly, more than anything else, wants to know what’s in that journal. Thinks about sneaking in late at night to flip through it. It’s well loved, and he knows even from several feet away that inside of it is you. The parts you don’t share with others, the parts he desperately wants to unearth. 

“And why would I do that?” You follow his gaze and casually move to close the journal. You wrap the leather cord around it twice, pick up the pen, and toss both into an inconspicuous drawer.

“Because I said so,” Joel says sharply. He’s standing by the front door still, and his skin prickles as you close the distance. And for good measure, he adds, “Because you’re not feeling well. You’re sick.”

You’re standing so close now he can feel the heat of your skin, beckoning to him, pulling him in. You’re so magnetic that he doesn’t pull away when you grab his hand and place his palm against the side of your neck. “Does it feel like I have a fever?”

Feverish? No. Warm, soft, addictive? Yes. Joel can feel your pulse beneath his hand, strong and steady. He can feel himself losing the battle already. He pulls his hand away and closes it into a fist behind his back. “Stop,” he says. “We can’t do this.”

You snort but turn away to give him some much needed space. “You can’t, you mean.”

He steps forward on instinct and freezes. He can’t bring himself to retreat, but he has the strength still to keep from going to you, from seeking you out just to feel you in his hands. That has to be enough. Joel knows he needs to say what he has to say and leave, before his resistance withers into nothing. “People are already starting to talk.”

“People,” you mock. “You mean your brother?” When he doesn’t deny it, you continue. “Let me guess—he said something this morning, asking about what we did all because I said I would pick up a couple of extra shifts.”

Joel doesn’t mention the other things Tommy said, about you being a pain in his ass. Joel can relate to it. “He also said you’ve been blatantly ignoring Maria.”

“No fucking shit I’ve been ignoring her,” you snap. But your eyes widen as Joel’s whole body tightens, seeing the mistake. 

But he isn’t here for that. He’s not. If you’re going to be a foul-mouthed brat, so be it. It’s not his place to discipline you. It can’t be. “You need to give her a break. Maria’s done right by all of us.” 

“Why? Because you said so?” You laugh, and it’s a sick, maniacal sound that grates against his nerves. So different than the soft airy giggles he’d heard last night. “Cut the shit and be honest with yourself, Joel. You want me to be nice to Maria so you don’t have to hear Tommy bitch about me anymore and you want me off watch duty with you because you’re afraid of me.”

“Afraid? Of a little girl?” Joel thinks you're joking at first. But you’re not laughing anymore, and when he realizes you’re serious he lets out a long sigh of frustration. It releases the tension in his shoulders just enough to keep him from losing it. “You think you know everything, but you don’t.”

“Well I’m not wrong,” you say, brows raised. 

It’s the attitude that gets to him, the contempt. Joel can’t stand it. He wants to take you by the throat and force you up against the wall. But he doesn’t, using the last of his patience to keep his feet planted firmly on the welcome mat.

“It was so good,” you say, the cadence of your voice lowering to a near whisper. There’s a warmth in your eyes that makes his chest ache. “I know you felt it too. You can’t tell me you didn’t. And even if you did, I wouldn’t believe you. I don’t believe you, Joel.”

The sound of his name in your mouth is nearly his undoing. It’s so pretty, you’re so pretty. Joel swallows hard, suddenly aware that for all he defiled yesterday, he’s never kissed you. Not truly. 

He’s kissed your forehead, your cheek, has tasted your skin and the wetness between your thighs. But he’s never once tasted the inside of your mouth or felt your tongue against his.

Joel clenches his teeth. 

He can’t. He shouldn’t.

But he has to. Good fucking God, he has to.

Joel reaches you in two strides. Your eyes widen in fear, but the moment he places his hands on either side of your face you’re melting, becoming pliable material for him to manipulate. Joel tilts your head up and leans down, crushing his mouth to yours.

You’re gripping his brown leather jacket, trying to keep your balance. But he’s crowding you, forcing himself into your space, into your mouth, pressing himself against you as if every inch of separation pains him.

Joel thinks you taste like bad decisions, like pomegranate seeds and glowing apple slices, like poisonous peach pits, like something so tempting it’s forbidden for good reason. He bites in anyway, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it out. You moan at the deviation from heaven, and he grabs a fistful of your ass and drags you impossibly closer as a low growl leaves his throat. 

He knows you can feel his cock through his jeans, pressing hard against your belly, but Joel does his very best to ignore it as he licks every soft part of you. He wants to remember this, to savor it, because he promises himself it’ll be the last time he ever takes advantage of you.

When he pulls away, Joel’s gasping for air like he’s never been kissed before. Like this is his first time, like you’re his first. It’s certainly the only time it’s ever been like this, heavy and weighted, hot and desperate and sacrilegious.

Your eyes are glassy and beautiful as you look up at him, fingers still clutched in his jacket. “You’re afraid of me, Joel,” you repeat, snaking a hand between you and rubbing his cock, squeezing softly over the denim. “You’re afraid of how good this feels because you’ve never been able to hold onto anything good in your entire life.”

And, distracted by the soft feel of your mouth, by your hand, he’s able to listen. To rid himself of guilt, of shame, truly hearing you. Joel silently wonders if you’ve been the conductor of this mess all along, if you’ve somehow seen behind the scenes, if you are, impossibly, the one who’s manipulated him. Because how else would you be able to rip those razor-sharp truths out of him? Truths he’s never faced, truths he’s never planned to. 

“It slips through your fingers every time, like smoke,” you say. 

Joel can’t pull himself away, can’t reestablish that distance he so carelessly erased. You feel too good, touching him, sighing softly between words as if he were the one touching you.

“And so you’ll push me away, so far that you can forget whatever it is you feel for me. And it’ll work. For a little while, anyway.” You rise to your tiptoes, swollen lips a breath away from his ear. “But one day you’ll be laying in bed with some lovely, soft spoken, age-appropriate woman, and you’ll look over at her and you’ll imagine me in her place. And I think you’ll miss bossing me around, and teaching me how to behave for you, and how good it feels to be inside of me.” His cock throbs in his jeans, and he feels you smile against his skin. “I think you’ll miss me real bad, Joel Miller.”

The picture you paint is a dreary one, and it leaves Joel cold. Even colder when you finally step back and he can’t feel the warmth of your skin anymore, the heat of your breath. But he doesn’t say that, because this feels like a goodbye—the goodbye he came here for. Joel steels himself, pushing that God-forsaken image far from his brain. “Tell Maria you’re sick,” he orders. 

And then he’s leaving, and it hurts to slam the door behind him, but he does it.

For the first time in days, Joel feels a drop of redemption trickle back into his bloodstream. 

Thankfully, you don’t show up to the tree blind to relieve Greg and Bonnie. But no one else does either, and Joel knows that you never even attempted to speak to Maria. A last-ditch effort at defiance. 

When they ask about you, he lies easily and says, “She’s running a little behind. Go on home, you’ll probably pass her on the way.” 

And they do as he suggests, leaving Joel in the tree blind alone with his thoughts. 

It’s almost as dangerous as being alone with you, because your words echo in his brain. I think you’ll miss me real bad, Joel Miller. 

He will. He does. Already, he misses the way your body feels against his. He misses the taste of your soft tongue. He misses your sweet laughter and carefree demeanor. He misses the innocence in your eyes when you look up at him like he has all the answers. Joel wants to give them to you, wants to take care of you. Wants to make you feel good, to protect you, to keep you safe. 

But you’re right. Goddamnit, you’re right. He is afraid of you. Terrified, in fact—because it could so easily turn into more than just physical need, more than just sinful desire. That one day you spoke into existence could come and he’d miss more than how it feels to be inside you, he’ll just miss you.

Joel knows how dangerous that is. It’s bad enough he’s gotta worry about Tommy and Ellie. Why would he want to add another name to that list? Another person he’d die for, another person he’d kill for.

It’s no good. He’s no good. 

Joel feels the ghost of your mouth against his and can’t resist pressing his knuckles to his lips, hoping to cement your DNA there so he can keep the lingering taste of you forever. 

But if not him, who else will take care of you? It’s dangerous outside these walls.

It’s only then he remembers his conversation with Tommy and Maria, who wouldn’t let Joel be on watch alone. Yet they let you go on runs alone, and often. 

The realization has his blood boiling.

Because if not him, then who? Some other, older man? Someone capable of enduring your fury, your foolishness, of knowing when to have a heavy hand and when to touch you softly? No. 

Fuck no. 

By the time his shift is over and the next two patrolmen come to relieve him, Joel knows right where he’s headed. They ask him where you went, if you ever showed up—and he covers for you. Saying, “I cut her loose early so she could get some sleep.” 

At first, he’s not sure why there’s an innate desire within him to lie for you, to keep you safe from ridicule or consequence. 

But as he’s walking to that white house on the corner of the street, Joel realizes that it’s because he doesn’t want anyone else to punish you—ever.

That’s his job.

And, Christ, does he have plans for you. 

Joel freezes a second before he bangs his fist against the door. The night is quiet and cold. The air is still. And, through the thin walls, he can hear you.

Can hear those sweet, soft moans. It’s faint, but it’s there. And Joel knows because those cute little sounds are forever embedded in his memory. 

All the blood in his brain rushes south at the image his mind produces. He can almost see you; sprawled out on your bed, legs parted with your hand between your thighs. He wonders what you’re thinking about and selfishly hopes it’s him. 

His hand shakes as he lowers it and reaches for the doorknob. You wouldn’t be so stupid, would you? 

The question is quickly answered when he twists the handle and encounters no resistance. Joel suddenly thinks of a quote his old, southern pastor once told him when he was a kid. Fittingly enough, he’d used it in a sermon about abstinence. 

Temptation is the devil looking through the keyhole. Yielding is opening the door and inviting him in.

But what is Joel to do when the devil leaves the door unlocked and wide open with a bratty little girl on the other side of it? How is he supposed to resist the forbidden fruit knowing just how sweet it tastes? 

He just can’t help himself. 

Joel eases his way inside, carefully closing the door behind him. He shrugs off his jacket and flannel, laying it over the back of the worn leather couch as if he belongs here. Your house is dark, but he’s able to follow the sound of your whimpering down the hallway. He pushes your bedroom door open as silently as he can—and what he finds is somehow a million times better than what he’d imagined.

You’re sitting in the center of your bed, straddling a pillow that’s folded in half between your legs. You’re facing the doorway, head tilted back and eyes closed in euphoria. Joel can see everything from here. The curtain over the window is open, the moonlight casting a purplish hue over your soft skin. 

His whole body tenses up as he watches you, eyes stuck on the wet spot between your legs. Joel almost doesn’t believe you’re real, nearly convinces himself you’re some sort of backlit, demonic little thing. Sent to him by the devil himself to ensure his damnation. As if it somehow wasn’t already a guaranteed thing, because Joel doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life, watching you desperately try to get yourself off.

You tilt your hips back and forth, moaning at the friction. The sounds you make are so beautiful, and Joel is thankful at this moment that you have little consideration for others. Because you’re moaning and whimpering loud enough that you don’t hear the wooden floor creak beneath his feet as he closes the space. 

In a sick, sinister way, Joel enjoys the fact that he’s watching you, so close he could reach out and touch you, and you have no idea. Pretty, stupid little girl. Joel is a bad man, you know. Real bad. And he could do whatever he wanted to you right now. Could cover your mouth with his hand so you can’t scream, could force you to your knees and have his way with you.

You let out a sweet sounding gasp, and Joel knows you’re close, nearly there. He would bet your clit is throbbing against your pillow, pussy just aching to be filled.

More than anything, more than teaching you how dangerous it is to leave your doors unlocked in the dead of night, Joel wants to help you. Wants to make you feel good. Wants to show you that yeah, one day he may be lying next to another woman thinking of you, but he will be the only man to ever satisfy your sadistic cravings. No one will ever be able to touch you again and make you feel as good as he does. 

He wraps his hand around your ankle and squeezes, anticipating the terrified cry you make in response. Joel holds tight, wrapping the other hand around your calf and pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

But not before you reach behind, pulling a serrated sawback knife from beneath the sheets. It’s clutched tight between your fingers as you hold it towards him. Your frightened eyes soften as recognition comes. He can hear your breathing settle, but your chest is still heaving. He doesn’t think you notice as his hands begin to slide up your legs, over the softness of your thighs. “Joel? What are you doing? Did you break into my house?”

There isn’t a single trace of alarm in your voice anymore, even though you’re still pointing that knife at him. “Didn’t have to,” he says, completely unfocused on the point of the weapon. Joel leans forward, running his hands over the swell of your hips, your ribs. He takes both breasts in his hands, unable to hold back the groan at the heavy feel of them. 

“I thought,” you swallow hard, inhaling a ragged breath. “I thought…you said—”

“I know what I said.” Joel takes the knife from your hand with ease and lays it on the battered nightstand. And the second he’s no longer under threat, he forces your back against the mattress and crawls between your legs, pulling them up over his hips. 

He pushes his hard cock against you, the denim of his jeans rough against your bare, sensitive skin. He watches the way you immediately soak the fabric, evidence of your near-release. You prop yourself up on your elbows, brows knitted together, the cutest little pout on your lips. “Wait,” you say, and he does. “I just…I don’t understand.”

Joel sees the concern etched on your face and thinks you’ve never looked so vulnerable in front of him as your eyes search for an explanation. He doesn’t have one that makes sense, that justifies his being here, justifies his hands as they roam freely over your skin. He pushes his hand through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “You don’t have anyone to take care of you,” he mutters. “I’m gonna keep you safe, baby. Real safe.” 

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you argue. “I can keep myself safe just fine.” He twists his hand in your hair, pulling lightly. His free hand comes between you, and Joel forces you to watch as he runs his thumb through your folds, spreading you open.

He doesn’t reply to your proclamation because he doesn’t believe it and he doesn’t think you do, either. He speaks as he circles your clit with the pad of his thumb softly. “But I gotta keep you safe from me, too, sweetheart. Can’t let an old man touch you like this. You’re just a little girl.”

Your back arches, pushing against his hand. You’re grinding against his cock over his jeans, and Joel can feel himself leaking at the warmth of you. You breathe his name, begging for more, begging for him like he knew you would.

Joel slides his thumb down further, smirking at the groan you let out as he pushes it inside you. “Precious little thing,” he whispers to himself. He switches his thumb for his middle finger, turning his hand palm up so he can press hard on that sweet spot inside of you. Your legs immediately start to tremble around him, and Joel smiles to himself knowing he’s barely touched you and already he’s accomplished what he set out to do. “I know, baby,” he says. “No one else can make you feel this good, huh? Not that pillow, not your hands, no other man but me.”

He releases his hold on your hair, letting you relax against the mattress. Your spine is still arched at the base, allowing him easy access to where you want him most. When he slips another thick finger inside of you, your hands clutch the sheets and your pleading gets a whole lot more convincing. “Joel, please—please just… mmm, Oh, God—”

Even though they burn his throat, Joel forces the words out before he loses the courage. “This is the last time, pretty girl. The last time I’ll ever touch you, okay? I promise. Gotta keep you safe…startin’ tomorrow.”

He almost wonders if you heard him, so lost in your satisfaction as he fucks you with his fingers. But then you lean forward, pulling eagerly at his leather belt, and he hears you say, “Liar.”

Joel knows you don’t believe him, but it’s true. He just needs to get it out of his system—to be inside of you knowing it’s the last time so he can savor it properly. To memorize it so he never forgets. He watches, enraptured, as you unbuckle his belt. Your hands are so much smaller than his, trembling lightly as you pull his cock out. He chuckles darkly as you lick your lips and hurry to line him up at your entrance. His middle and index fingers are still buried deep inside of you, hooked upwards right where you need him. “You want it now, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you say so quickly he laughs. “Please, Joel, please.”

With his free hand, he knocks yours away and presses his tip into you between his fingers. “Right now, huh? So fuckin’ needy, can’t wait one more minute. Just wanna be so full’a me you’re beggin’ for it, s’that it?”

He inches in further, leaving his fingers inside of you, watching the glorious stretch it makes, relishing in the whine you let out in response. 

“Wait,” you say, fear laced in your voice as you realize his intent. Joel does—giving you the option to deny him, to say no. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. Instead, when your pretty eyes meet his dark gaze, something heated and curious appears on your face. 

Joel sinks into you further, even as you toss your head back and force the air from your lungs in a ragged exhale. He knows it must feel so full —because he can feel every inch of you, squeezing him like a vice. 

“It hurts,” you hiss, wincing. “Joel, I can’t—!”

“Yeah you can, baby,” he encourages. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Joel pulls back out slowly, cock glistening with your slick. “You say it hurts but this pretty pussy is just cryin’ for me, little girl.” When he pushes in again, stretching you slowly, he lets out a low groan at the feeling and doesn’t stop until he’s all the way in.

“Oh my God,” you whine, hooking your legs around his back. “It’s too much.”

“Is it?” Joel mocks, rocking his hips slowly. He can feel your body react immediately—walls fluttering around him with every movement. You’re a trembling, moaning mess, making an even bigger one all over the dark hair above his cock.

A single tear falls from the corner of your eye, and Joel leans forward to kiss it away. He presses his lips to your forehead and gently strokes the side of your face with his free hand. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I…it’s just,” you pause to let out an elated sigh as he thrusts in deep. “If this is the last time you—ohh, God, Joel—please, you’re gonna make me—”

“I know, little girl, I know,” he says. Joel thrusts his hips forward hard—once, twice, until your legs are shaking so bad he knows you’re one stroke away from combustion. And then he pulls his cock out of you, lips curling into a smirk at the whine you give in protest. “S’okay, baby, don't cry,” he promises, dropping to his knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Wanna taste it, sweetheart.”

His mouth is bliss when he puts it on you, licking long, gentle strokes through your heat with his soft tongue. He uses both hands to spread your legs wide, holding you still even as you squirm, and his chest rumbles in satisfaction as he drinks you in. Joel wraps his lips around your clit and focuses his efforts there. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he groans against you as you tangle your hands in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding against his face as if you can’t get enough. 

Joel understands. He really, really does. Because even when your body pulls tight and you moan his name over and over, soaking his facial hair, his chin, his mouth—it’s not enough. He wants more, wants you impossibly closer, wants to hear nothing but your moans for the rest of his life. 

He doesn’t stop until your muscles begin to relax and your breathing slows. He releases your clit from between his lips and you shudder as he licks through your folds, devouring any trace of your orgasm left behind. The urge to praise your behavior rises in him, wanting to tell you how good you’re being, how perfect. 

But this—tonight—is about Joel. It’s a selfish act, his taking you. It’s for his memory, for his satisfaction. Which is why, when he crawls back over you, Joel rests his calloused hand against your neck and crushes his mouth to yours. You open up immediately, giving him an all access pass to your tongue, moaning at his reverence. You taste so fucking sweet, and Joel knows just how easy it would be to find obsession in kissing you.

With his free hand, he reaches down and pushes his jeans off the rest of the way, the metal belt buckle clanging to the floor. He pulls away for only a second to grip the back of his shirt collar and pull it over his head, discarding it quickly. 

And then he’s turning you over, grabbing your hips, and forcing them up. The sight of you with your face against the mattress and your arms braced in front of you, the enticing slope of your spine, your glistening, needy pussy—it’s almost too much. Joel’s cock throbs painfully, desperate to be inside of you. He runs his hands over the perfect globes of your ass, spreading you open. “You’re so pretty, baby. The cutest little girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, and your whimpering in response to his compliments is so cute it warms his heart.

You arch back for him, and Joel can’t resist his grin. You’re just so eager.

He gathers the spit in his mouth and lets it drip between your cheeks, watching it slide down your pussy until it reaches your clit. He lets out a sigh of relief as he pushes back into you, can’t resist leaning over and pressing sweet kisses to your spine. He won’t last long—not like this, buried so deep inside you there’s no end of you or beginning of him.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says. Joel’s thrusts are punishing and relentless. He slams into you, holding you down against the mattress with one hand and using the other to paw at your ass, pulling you back onto him every time he retreats. “This what you wanted? Hm? Wanted to be bent over and fucked like a whore, huh?”

“Yes,” you choke out. “It feels so good, Joel—fuck—”

His hips still. He fists his hand in your hair and pulls you up, back against his chest. His mouth is at your temple as he asks, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry—don't stop, don’t stop, please,” you beg. The words are desolate and frantic, but there’s a knowing, arrogant smirk on your face. 

You’re playing him, Joel suddenly realizes. Playing into his games to get what you want—you clever, bratty little girl. His palms twitch with the urge to force you into true submission instead of whatever this forgery of it is.

But he can’t do that in a single night. And so Joel decides to give you exactly what you want instead.

He wraps one hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he presses your head to his shoulder. He uses the other to reach down and stroke your clit in soft circles, thrusting up into you all the while. “Aw, baby,” he tuts. “Look at you. You’re so fuckin’ easy. Doin’ whatever I want you to. Lettin’ me fuck you however I want.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God—Joel I’m gonna—!”

Joel thrusts harder, circles your clit faster. Arousal pools low in his belly at the delicious way you say his name. “Give it to me, baby. Yeah, there you go. Mmhm, thaaaat’s it.” You squeeze him hard, and Joel has to close his eyes to hold himself back. 

Your moans are music to his ears, pretty little sounds that urge him on. His hand doesn’t stop, his hips don’t slow, and his mouth never quiets, filthy words sending you to immeasurable heights.

“Pussy was fuckin’ made for me. It’s soakin’ me so good. This what you like? Hm? Like to be fucked real rough, treated like a fuckin’ slut. That’s what makes it all wet, baby? Don’t you worry. I’ll give you everything you need, exactly what you’re beggin’ me for.” Joel feels your muscles go slack, but his hand on your neck only tightens, holding you upright. He doesn’t stop even as your hands fly to his between your legs, pulling at his wrist, needing reprieve.

“Joel, oh my God, please—I’m finished, I’m finished—!”

He presses your clit harder, fucks you deeper. “Ain’t this what you wanted? Didn’t want me to stop. Real sensitive, isn’t it?” His tone is so mocking, so mean. “Gonna fuck you till it hurts, pretty girl.”

You’re writhing in his hands, the cutest little tremors rocking through you. “It does, it does, Joel, please, it hurts so bad,” you cry. He kisses your tears away, savoring the taste of saltwater on his tongue. 

“Tell me who’s pussy this is,” he whispers in your ear. “Tell me baby, who’s pretty pussy is it? Huh?”

No answer comes right away. You’re too fucked out, fucked stupid, thoughts emptying out of your head. But Joel is there, right at the precipice, and he has to hear it before he follows you.

“C’mon little girl, use your words. Tell me,” he gently urges.

“Yours! It’s yours, I swear, Joel, fuck, fuck—!”

He pulls out of you just in time to spill his come onto your back, his cock sliding against your ass. Joel feels satisfaction down to his bones, knows that it’ll be easier to resist you now that he’s succumbed to his indulgences.

But as the euphoria fades, the guilt slowly starts to seep in. Joel lays you gently against the mattress, chest heaving.

“Don’t move,” he says. And then he’s leaving your room, picking up his flannel from the back of the couch. When he returns, he wipes away the mess he made, cleans up the lingering wetness between your legs.

While you climb up the bed and slide your shaky limbs beneath the thick comforter, Joel starts to pull his clothes back on. When he’s dressed in his boxers and t-shirt you ask, “Joel? Can you…can you stay? Just for a little bit?”

Your voice is so timid, so mousy, as if you’re embarrassed to even ask. He’s never heard you like this before. It tugs on his heartstrings, makes him feel the beginnings of exactly what he’s been trying so hard to avoid. 

That feeling chokes him, makes him feel covered in sin. Because you’re so young. So young that Joel should know better. He does know better. He’s just really, really bad at resisting temptation. Astronomically bad, in fact. And he doesn’t want to hurt you—truly, he doesn’t. Despite all he’s done and all he’s said, Joel has your best interest in mind. And he has no place there.

But, fuck, he wishes he did. 

Words don’t come easily to him. They never have. Especially when he has so much to say. “‘Course,” is all he manages.

Joel climbs in bed next to you, shoulders relaxing for what feels like the first time in a very long time as he pulls you close. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, rests his cheek against the top of your head. He’s so warm, like a big cocoon of heat and safety. 

The silence stretches on. And he thinks you may have fallen asleep already. But before you do, he says into the dark, “I didn’t mean it, you know. All the…the stuff I said. I don’t think you’re…”

You lift your head, turning those spellbinding eyes on him. He doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly isn’t for you to give him an award-winning smile and say, “Good to know Joel Miller doesn’t think I’m an actual whore. If he did, whatever would I do?”

He doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm right away. And you must see something on his face that’s real amusing—because you burst into a fit of girlish giggles and Joel can’t help but mirror your grin. 

“I’m kidding,” you say. And then you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his jaw. “Goodnight, Joel. You can let yourself out when you’re ready.” 

He waits until you fall asleep, until your breathing evens out and you turn away from him on your side. Joel gathers his things quietly and leaves through the front door. 

This time, he locks it up tight.

[part one] [part three]

[aryxchse]

the same type of blue. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n : the history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself. and i won't shut up about how logan lerman and his wife being sally and poseidon in my head

warnings : emotional, i can't warm up to paul im sorry, sally and poseidon should've been an endgame but idek how, mentioning past, you looking like sally, crying, some of the hera cabin power mentions that i had in mind

the moment sally jackson met you, was the moment she saw her teenage self in your eyes.

you were this funny and bubbly girl who was too nice for your own good. you had these mother instict in you that later she found out it was because of your mother being hera. you would always say what type of marriage you imagine with percy and how many kids do you want. one boy and one girl, doesn't matter who's the older. the girl was going to have percy's eyes, but the boy will have yours.

and it always put a smile on her face to listen you talk about your dreams so comfortly to her. because she saw herself in those dreams. they were once her dreams too.

percy looked and acted too much like poseidon for sally's own good. he would unknowingly make his dad's jokes, and would call you 'darling' like he did to her back then. all these little details would remind sally her past love.

it was a barbeque day for the jackson-blofis family at the montauk cabin. where you were obviously invited, and poseidon, obviously was not. he liked to show up in family gatherings once in a while, to spend some time with his son or suprisingly, estelle.

you and sally prepared the table as the boys made the meat while laughing at something. paul and poseidon had this awkward friendship that always made you giggle. and percy would chat with his biological dad more often, since he felt more comfortable with him. don't get me wrong, he loved paul. all of you loved paul. but poseidon's warm energy made him easier to talk.

you never thought you'd have a dinner with a god but here you were, eating a meal with one of the most powerful gods ever existed. poseidon was really good at making people forget that he's a god, the one that rules the seven seas.

after the dinner, percy and you started to clean the area as paul went inside to watch this new game he followed, you didn't really paid attention. sally stayed outside, smelling the sea's calming scent, her bare feet dipping in the sand.

she looked over were poseidon and estelle was playing. he made sand castles with her as he laughed like a true grandpa. it made sally chuckle too, seeing him acting all fatherly with her daughter.

"he wants to make up for it," you said, and it made sally slightly jump. you apologised while putting a hand on her shoulder. "you know, since he couldn't look out for percy and you."

sally's eyes started to water up, but she managed to crack a smile. "how do you know this?" she asked. you shrugged, "i can feel a parent's feelings, even if they're a god. weird power, i know." you chuckled at the end with her.

"he didn't had any choice," sally muttered, looking at the sea again. you nodded. "i know, but he still feels bad. he really loves you sally, still like the first time." your whispering words made sally want to breakdown right then and there, but she only sighed.

"baby!" percy called behind you, smiling like a little kid. you both turned around as you made your way to percy, giggling. once again, it reminded sally the good times. but she wasn't alone this time, poseidon could also see the similarities between them. how you had sally's hair back then like how she used it, and how percy was a literal copy of himself.

sally sat next to poseidon as he sat there silently, watching his son and his girlfriend chase eachother around the beach, just like he and sally did. estelle was asleep in his arms, the calm energy he radiated making the girl fall asleep immediatly.

"they're just like us." poseidon whispered, not looking at the woman he still loved. sally smiled, not that he would see. "yeah. but a better version." she responded.

"one that ends happily unlike us." he agreed, too afraid to look in her eyes. sally didn't said anything, and the past lovers watched their son having the time of his life with the girl he loved.

suddenly percy lifted you up on his shoulders and ran into the water with you, still being clothed. you whined the moment you swimmed up. "percy it's not fair!" you yelled at him between your giggles.

"m' wet too baby, see? there's nothing unfair in this!" percy laughed with her, hugging her waist tightly so that she won't slip away.

"you used to do that too," sally whispered to poseidon, smile hurting her cheeks at this point. poseidon mimicked her facial expressions as he nodded quickly.

"and you would always whine like her." he chuckled, making the woman laugh along with him.

percy stepped out from the water with the help of the waves, still holding you in his arms in bridal style. while he made his way into the cabin, he spinned you around once in a while to make you laugh.

"he's really your son." sally chuckled, watching the couple enter the cabin.

"he's our son." poseidon corrected. he finally faced the woman, and saw the tears perking in her eyes through a smile. this was sally jackson, the woman he loved the most. smiling through everything.

he made the tears go away with a flick of his hand, too afraid to touch her. "a proof that our love was real, not a dream i had."

[puriiinz]

POSTED | smau abby a.

IV; F U 2X

a/n: this is my last draft, i won't be posting for a while because of the situation my country is in. thank you guys for loving posted so far ❣️

contains: a little too much cursing

masterlist | next

yn needed to stop thinking about abby.

like right now.

she locked her phone and stared at the ceiling with the intensity of someone trying to change dimentions to escape from their thoughts.

yn was not imagining things at the cafe, it was weird. it wasn't anything absurd per se but it wasn't normal either. yn wouldn't feel that way when she would play-flirt with her friends, no. what was she feeling? great question! she didn't know either. she couldn't pinpoint what and how many things she was feeling. was she the problem? maybe she was...

yn's phone buzzed once, twice, thrice... like five times? but she wasn't going to look. no. she's a strong independent girl who has REALLY good self control and- wait her phone buzzed again.

maybe a peek...

yn grabbed her phone and unlocked it immediately, seeing dina's name pop up, she clicked on the notification and that's when she wanted to shoot her brains out. literally.

???

what

?

literally what was that supposed to mean. like are we just copying each others' sentences now??? literally WHO is abby flirting with using yn's jokes. it wasn't even FUNNY. god. FUCK#%-&:!27:'e

okay.

be calm.

let's think for once.

no one knows they were together yesterday, so there's no chance anyone would guess this was about yn. but why would yn care what people thought? but yn knows she said that to her. as a joke. was abby flirting with someone else using yn's own joke??? zero originality whatsoever???? but why would yn care? like abby's not even fitted. but what if abby said that about yn? what if abby tried to make an inside joke between her and yn but yn was being a delusional ass bitch and her ego is so high and she's dumb and

okay breathe.

there were two possibilities:

either yn's really delusional and abby was NOT!!!! thinking about yn when she tweeted that. it was just a random act of saying she loved some people so much to the point she'd give up some things that had nothing to do with yn.

or yn's not delusional.

yn's checked twitter too many times. abby hasn't deleted shit. and to top it all off she was replying to ellie's tweets making fun of her. that means abby's aware of her fuckass tweet. great.

and yet she hasn't said jack shit to yn. but why would she? it's not like yn had triggered her to tweet that shit. lol. ok.

it's not like yn was the one who spent her entire time at the cafe watching abby eat her croissant like an insane food behaviorist.

and it definitely wasn't like yn and abby were the ones arguing about stupid food shit in a not-flirty-but-kind-of-flirty-question-mark way. and why the FUCK was dina still texting yn.

after blocking dina on twitter and putting her phone on dnd, yn decided enough was enough. she had to take her mind off of abby. which is why 13 minutes later yn made the (highly questionable) decision to go grocery shopping at night. because nothing says #unbothered like staring at vegetables under blindingly white lights at 12 pm.

yn was so focused on picking out the best overpriced beverage that she almost didn't notice someone walking up beside her.

almost.

but then, in her peripheral vision, she saw the unmistakeable shape of a tall, broad-shouldered, protein powder for brains hoe. yn's stomach dropped in the sight of her because there was NO WAY that was a coincidence. like of the fuck course she would run into abby sooner or later but immediately after her tweet? crazy shit bro.

yn slowly turned her head and there abby was. all in her glory, holding a single loaf of bread. she could've gone anywhere else for a loaf of bread but she chose to come to the store yn always shopped at, of course. and of course she was standing way too close to yn.

abby blinked at yn, her grip on the bread tightening slightly, she looked like she was thinking, must be hard for her. bitch.

"hey..."

yn said nothing.

because what the fuck.

abby, who apparently hadn't been expecting the silence, cleared her throat, adjusting the already perfectly fine positioning of her hoodie.

"didn't think... didn't think i'd run into you here."

yn blinked, and without thinking opened a can of diet coke, taking a big sip to try calm herself down, which didn't work.

abby shifted uncomfortably, gripping her bread harder. there was literally no reason for that interaction to be that painful, except for the giant (but not really) elephant in the room that neither of them were acknowledging.

yn's eyes flicked down to abby's hands, then back to her face, "you came here for bread?" abby hesitated before seriously answering "yeah..."

yn squinted at abby, abby squinting back at her. they both were standing still, abby holding her bread and yn holding her can of coke, doing nothing but breathing and staring at each other. after what felt like forever, abby cleaned her throat,

"...what about you?"

yn blinked, then dumbly gestured towards the beverages, because she can't fucking talk apparently.

abby nodded way too slowly, "cool... cool."

a pause.

a long pause.

"did you see my tweet?"

yn felt every single nerve in her body get up and start running around, her entire existence stopped functioning for a full second. was this shit even that serious? she didn't know. while thinking whether she was being dramatic or not, she made the stupidest decision. and lied.

"...nope," she rocked back and forth on her feet "haven't checked twitter today..."

abby looked at yn

yn looked at abby

then abby tilted her head. just like back at the cafe. but she looked cuter this time. that's not the point. the point is, she didn't believe yn.

"...really?"

yn did not break eye contact.

"yes."

a beat of silence.

then abby, who's still gripping her stupid loaf of bread like it's her last lifeline, exhales, her expression unreadable.

"...huh."

yn nodded, making abby nod after her.

another pause.

then, suddenly, abby looked almost amused. but literally anything wasn't funny. yn was doing nothing except shuffling her feet. she really had to beat abby's ass sometime. when they're not awkward.

"...okay."

yn narrowed her eyes, something about abby's tone felt dangerous. but at the same time, all this shit over a tweet, really? god, yn was losing her mind dails as is, she didn't need abby to add into it.

abby adjusted her grip on the bread one last time. and all of a sudden, saying the worst fucking thing she could've said. with a straight face.

"i guess l'll just have to say it to your face next time."

yn's brain completely shut down. what the fuck does that mean. was she serious???? FUCK YOUR MOTHER BITCH. SHIT.

while praying on abby's downfall in her mind, yn did the stupidest fucking thing, never truly giving up on her style.

she quite literally chucked her coke can at abby, making sure abby was holding it, then started to power walk out of the store.

because who was yn if not running from her problems?

[chiaseedbaby]

Nsfw alphabet for Ronin Beaufort!

This is my first NSFW alphabet!! Hope you enjoy!!

Minors DNI!!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I believe Ronin would do his best, he seems like to type to not know what to do fully though. Mainly just wash you and get you some crackers then fall asleep with his face buried in your neck.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, it’s his tongue, he makes you feel good with it.

For you it’s your thighs, he just loves to bury his face between them, no reason in particular though

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He prefers to cum inside, if you’re not comfortable with that then he’ll cum on your face, he thinks you look cute covered in his cum anyway. He also thinks it’s hot when you lick your lips

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to fuck you over a dead body, he just thinks you wouldn’t be into that and also well, call the police? (If you didn’t know he was a serial killer)

He’s also had some thoughts about letting Angel fuck you while he watches.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I’d say he has a good amount of experience, mainly in the oral category, his head game is the best part of his foreplay.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style so he can pull your hair and spank you or a Mating press so he can kiss you while you fuck, he also enjoys cuddle fucking from the side so he can leave marks on the back of your neck. G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely cracks small jokes about how much you’re tearing up, he thinks it’s cute

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed hair, and it does match.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He likes to kiss and cuddle fuck you so I’d say pretty intimate.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think he mastubates much, he has you, unless you’re too busy and he’s too pent up he won’t jack off

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Surprisingly, he enjoys being praised during sex, he’ll never tell you that directly though, he also has a huge biting kink, not just him biting you, if you bite him he gets so hard it’s not even funny

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere in your home, and occasionally in public bathrooms if he’s desperate enough

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Begging, or if you wear really provocative clothing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything having to do with him sharing you with anyone but maybe Angel

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He is such a giver when it comes to oral, he loves it, his tongue piercing makes it even more fun because he secretly bought a vibrating tongue ring for your anniversary

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very rough and aggressive, mainly cause he likes to make you feel it all the way in your tummy!!

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a big fan, but he will if you guys have little time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s very Risky, he’s fucked you on a discord call with the other killers before. (If you knew they were killers)

He’s also fucked you IN ANGELS LIVING ROOM she almost caught you guys

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last about 5-6 rounds if he wanted to after he ate. But usually goes for about 4 for your own sake

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has two vibrators, one is a tongue ring and the other is a bullet, both for you, he also has a pair of nipple clamps connected with a pretty red chain!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man teases you RELENTLESSLY, be prepared

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He grunts and moans softly into your ear, he doesn’t see the need to be very vocal.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If you knew he was a serial killer and didn’t mind, he would kidnap anyone who looked at you too lovingly or with bad intent and fuck you in front of them, making them watch as he creampies your insides before slitting their throat and having you lick the knife

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s about 5 inches soft and 7 inches hard, and has a prominent curve, his head is a bit thicker than the rest of him and is a pretty dusted pink

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He usually wants to have sex about 3-4 times a week, but he’s not too needy, he doesn’t mind if it’s less

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Only allows himself to fall asleep if he knows you’re taken care of.

[icallhimjoey]

hello love, i have a request for a smutty and fluffy joe fic ❤️ (it's a bit of a personal one) the reader experiences some pain and discomfort during PIV and their past partner(s) never took the time to make sure they are fully comfortable and heard... but joe does. 🥺 xx.

thanks for your request! i didnt deliver much on the smut (my apologies) but i tried to do it justice for ya ❤️ Wordcount: 2K

---

And I'll Listen

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, after climbing up onto your bed and sitting down right in front of you, mirroring you exactly. Legs criss crossed in front, elbows pressed into the inside of your knees. 

“What? Nothing’s wrong.” You smiled, but your words came out without any confidence. It sounded like a fat lie, even to your own ears, so you knew Joe wouldn’t be convinced. 

“Okay,” Joe said, narrowing his eyes a little, but letting his hands find yours in between your laps and leaning in for a kiss anyway. 

You’d had a whole day that built up to this.

Every little thing leading up to this moment.

Of having Joe in bed with you, the unsaid expectation of getting to connect past kisses and wandering hands.

Joe had been extra sweet, had really done his best to make you giggle and blush a little more than he had done on any previous dates. Not because he was hoping you’d repay his kindness with anything. That wasn’t the type of person he was. But because he wanted you to feel comfortable around him. He wanted you to enjoy this just as much as he was probably going to.

Which, you did. You did feel comfortable around him.

You liked Joe a lot.

You wanted him in bed with you. You wanted Joe to kiss you, and so when he leant in for one, it was easy to accept his lips as they brushed against yours.

It was just that... you were nervous.

Sort of scared.

There was a little seed of fear left over from unpleasant experiences with other men, and you hadn’t realised how all throughout the day you’d been silently watering it.

It was a whole big leafy plant now, and it made you turn Joe’s kiss into a quick peck. 

You wondered if Joe would accept it if you just wanted to cuddle all night. 

Joe smiled at you, and he noticed the blush high up on your cheeks. You looked real cute like this, in the low light of your bedroom that turned everything into soft oranges, and he let go of one of your hands to curl it around your neck. 

He pulled you in for another kiss, and you liked the strong fingers that held your head up, but you did the same thing again. Broke the kiss just as quick as it started and moved back a little, biting into your bottom lip and bringing a hand up to softly rub at the side of your nose. 

Your nose wasn’t itchy, but by covering your mouth you ensured Joe couldn’t quickly try for another kiss. 

This felt awkward. Which was weird, Joe thought.

You’d kissed lots already.

You’d surprised him with kisses a lot, actually. Like in public, right outside a pub, when he hadn’t expected it at all and he had nearly dropped his beer. Or earlier when he’d shown you the eyelash on the tip of his finger that he’d carefully taken from just underneath your eye and made you make a wish before you both blew it off.

It was strange that you were cutting off kisses and keeping him at a distance.

Joe moved back a little more, and you saw how he observed you for a moment before his brows pulled down into a confused frown.

“You seem nervous…” he said, smiling still.  

“Yea, it’s the nerves.” you joked dryly, using the moment to try and get rid of the uneasy feeling that you couldn’t seem to shake. You hoped a little humour would help, and it did help, because Joe burst into loud laughter.

But then the moment Joe’s laughter subsided and he went in to kiss you again, murmuring “I’m trying to set the mood, stop being so funny,” against your lips, the fear and anticipation returned full force. 

God, why were you panicking?

This was Joe.

He’d done nothing to make you believe he was like… like the others. Like any of them, actually.

Your clear mind was convinced you could just tell Joe about the issue and that he would react the way you’d want him to. The problem, however, was that your mind didn’t feel all so clear right now, unfortunately. And Joe could feel it in the way you froze on him a little. You were letting him kiss you, but you weren’t really kissing back all that much.

“What’s got you so nervous, hey?” 

Joe knew he wouldn’t be in bed with you if you didn’t want him there. There was no question about where the night was headed; you had both been very clear about it, so there was no doubt in Joe’s mind at all.

He guessed it was normal to feel a little nervous, but something about you felt a little off. Something different in your eyes. 

“I just said,” and you just couldn’t fucking help to use the same joke to deflect, “It’s the nerves.” 

This time you didn’t get a laugh, but just a small smile and eyes that slid down your body before they found yours again to lock onto.

“I know that...” Joe started, face serious enough for you to feel uneasy with his eye-contact. You looked away, and it made Joe pause.

You weren’t really letting him in.

“I know that being vulnerable can be scary, but…” Joe looked at your hands and cupped one into his palm so he could let his other hand tickle the inside of yours. He glanced up to see that you were staring at it too.

“I think that you think it takes a lot of effort to be a little more exposed... that it’s hard work to open those doors.” 

Oh, shit. 

You did think that.

You didn’t like how Joe seemingly saw right through you. 

“But if you ask me, you’ve got it wrong. It’s not hard work. But you know what is? Keeping the doors closed when someone else is trying to take a peek inside.” Joe stressed his words and made it obvious he was talking about himself. “We’re just gonna be pulling on either side… and, you’re strong. You’ll probably manage to keep it shut if you were really determined. And then what might happen is that I’ll grow tired eventually and stop trying...” 

You inhaled a shuddery breath. That wasn’t what you wanted. It was frustrating that Joe even framed it like he had to work hard for it, but you didn’t want Joe to stop trying.

“And I don’t even want to get inside. I just want to... I don’t know, I guess I just want to open the door and have a look. Wanna see you.” 

Somehow the concept of being seen felt just as bad as letting someone in.

“Joe…” you whispered, and watched as Joe grabbed hold of both of your hands, interlacing your fingers together in a bid to feel closer. Your touching knees weren’t really covering Joe’s want for closeness.

“Am I making sense? Do I–” he sounded impossibly sweet and gentle, it was almost too soft for you to bear.

“Yea, no, you are! You are, but…”  

“But what?” 

But your fingers had held onto those doorhandles for so long they’d sort of cramped into their set position and prying them loose was actually the painful bit. That first step of opening up was what had you worried, because what if Joe got a little glimpse inside and didn’t care for what he’d see. 

Because that had happened before. 

Or at least... that’s how you had always interpreted it.

Because you’d felt like you had let people look inside, but then they hadn’t really seen you. They’d just barged in and didn’t listen when you’d said, stop, that’s enough. 

Rational thought told you not to accuse Joe of things he hadn’t done, but you couldn’t help your body anticipating the worst all the same.

“Hey,” Joe whispered and pulled you from your thoughts, big eyes filled with worry that didn’t feel pitying to you. More warm and kind, like he was trying to show you that he would see. That he would listen.

“It’s just me.” 

“Well… you see, it’s not. It’s not just you. It’s you and,” you glanced down between the two of you and, for a split second, thought of mentioning Joe’s dick.

Classic joke.

It’s you and your huge shlong that counts as its own individual.

But Joe hadn’t just tried to convince you to be honest with him for you to throw a dick joke into his face, and so instead you let your eyes find Joe’s again and you finished, “me.” 

You said it like it should really worry Joe that it was you he was with.

Like he had made a great mistake by being here.

Like there was something terribly wrong with you.

Which, you kind of thought there was. A little.

But Joe didn’t think so, and his facial expression pulled into something past confusion. He seemed almost offended at the light that you’d just placed yourself into, so you scrambled to explain what you meant.

“It’s you and me, and I don’t… you know, there is... so, before it’s not always been- s-sometimes it’s not been– not that I don’t trust you, like, I know you wouldn’t want to hurt me, but, it’s not like, like, it’d b-be your fault, it’s just that it’s scary ‘cause then, what if it does, a-and–”

“Hey.” Joe stopped you. He’d heard enough.

You were getting ridiculously close to crying, Joe might as well just start getting dressed again, you thought. This was going nowhere, fucking pathetic. Joe hadn’t flirted with you all day for him to spend his evening comforting his crying date.

“Take a deep breath.” he instructed. Wasn’t a question.

You shuddered through an exhale first before you took a quick big gulp of air. 

“Slower. Do one more, slow. Close your eyes.” 

Joe sounded more stern than he had done before, and you reluctantly followed his instructions. Sort of. Joe had to give you a raise of his eyebrows and a little nod before you closed your eyes. When you exhaled your slow breath, you noticed how dropping your shoulders stopped your lips from wobbling. 

“Another one.” he said, sounding a little bit more gentle this time.

You felt Joe press a thumb in between your eyes, pulling upwards, easing your frown. He did that a couple of times until he couldn’t see it anymore. 

“Okay. Good. That’s better.” 

Then he used both his hands to trace lines from your forehead down either side of your face until his finger tips met over your lips.

You visibly relaxed a little more, eyes still closed as you let your head hang to the side a little.

After doing that for a while, after your lips had slightly parted on their own, Joe softly asked, “Does this feel nice?” 

“Mhm,” you tried nodding but weren’t sure you even moved all that much. 

“Good. S’all I want.” 

You snapped your eyes open, immediately tense again and ready to argue, because intentions didn’t matter. No one had even intended to hurt you before, but it had still happened. Hence this whole fear-plant that lived inside you now.

“But, what if–”

“You tell me.” Joe quickly interrupted you. 

“Okay, but–” 

“And then I’ll listen.” 

Oh.

Hit the nail right on its head.

You inhaled a sharp breath and pulled your bottom lip into your mouth.

“You tell me, and I’ll listen, okay?” Joe sounded dead serious.

You thought for a moment, and then nodded.

“Yea, okay.” 

“Yea?”

“Yea.” 

“Promise me one thing.” Joe pulled both your hands into his chest, curling them under his chin as he forced eye-contact with you.

“You have to tell me. Talk to me. I don’t want you– you’re not allowed to… I don’t know. To push through. I don’t want you to pretend everything is okay when it’s not, all right? Any discomfort and you just say stop, okay?” 

You felt your eyes well up and before Joe could witness tears spilling over, you were quick to lean in and kiss him, pulling your hands from his grasp and using both to pull him closer by the back of his neck.

“Mm– promise me, you gotta promise–” Joe was hardly stopping you from kissing him, but he needed you to say it.

“I promise, I promise,” you urgently said, not even sure if you even knew how to tell Joe to stop, but your gut-feeling overwhelmingly wanted you to kiss him, so you did.

And feverishly so.

You felt Joe smile against your mouth as he let both arms curl around your middle, pulling you into his lap, and it felt a little silly how suddenly, Joe’s earlier words settled within you.

“It’s just me.” 

He was right.

This was just Joe.

It was like you had only just understood what he had even meant when he’d said that.

“It’s just you.” you repeated in a whisper, reassuring yourself as Joe kissed down your neck.

But Joe actually thought that what you’d said made more sense. That you were actually right, and he needed you to know he understood.

“It’s me and you, all right?” Joe corrected, breaking from you just long enough for you to pull your top off, and then going back in for your mouth.

“It’s me and you.”

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[basafritters]

half return - Kafka x Reader

1051 words | no warnings | BELOW THE CUT!!!

note: this one is just a short imagine I had for a half-baked idea

“You seem lost.” From between her lips, a puff of smoke is exhaled, and the cigarette is offered to you– enticing, yet with heavy consequences should you take it. Though, considering your current company, you fear you might be too far gone to care for consequence. You take it, pressing it against your own mouth. The taste of Kafka’s lipstick is bitter, an unknown flavor, but distinct. 

“I don’t understand why you had to do it.” 

“Elio said it had to, so it had to. I would’ve thought you’d been able to piece it together by now.” 

“Did you have to abandon her?” 

She falls silent at the question. Instead, Kafka leans forward on the railing of the balcony, fetching another cigarette from her pocket. Above you, the hotel’s balcony is covered by an awning–the only thing keeping you both dry from the rain. It falls fast to the street several dozen floors below, and the distance seems to call to you. 

“Destiny’s Slave said it had to be.” 

With a click, she lights the cigarette. 

“I wish you hadn’t done it.” 

“I wish I hadn’t either.” 

You wondered how Stelle must’ve felt. You wondered for hours, pacing the hotel room waiting for Kafka to return from Herta Space Station. Silver Wolf stopped by every half hour, at first out of duty, and then out of genuine worry that you might’ve been on the verge of causing harm to someone. 

Was she afraid? She’d have no memories, you were told. Everything you’d ever done with her cumulated to nothing but the set up for a pawn to be used by Elio’s great future. Kafka had done her part, certainly, and she was the girl’s favorite. But you loved her. You loved her so much, as if she were made from your very skin and you only felt nauseous imagining how scared she’d feel when she woke up with a Stellaron deep inside her. 

Beside you, Kafka tries to gently settle her hand on your shoulder. It’s shrugged off quickly.

“Don’t touch me.” 

“You know the rules. So do I.” 

“I begged Elio. I begged him not to let this happen, not to let her go.” 

“You know just as well as I do how stubborn he can be. The script says she’ll find her way back to us, some day.” 

“You can’t be alright with this.” 

She exhales, smoke rising into the air. 

“I only do what I’m told.” Then, she turns, with something of a sly grin. “And with some harmless fun on the side to pass the time.” 

The joke isn’t funny. She must know it, but times must be desperate considering you’ve shrugged off every invitation for intimacy since Elio showed you the script. Kafka didn’t need to agree to this, and yet she did. She chose to be the one to abandon the child you practically raised together. 

“I miss her. I miss her so much.” 

“Give it time, dear. She’s strong. She’ll get into trouble, but nothing she can’t get out of.” Her hand guides your face towards hers– and you let her. Even when she sounds somber, her face betrays nothing. It’s the way she’s always been. Is she grieving too? Or does she lack anything beneath that pretty face?

“She’ll be back. So, why don’t we enjoy this temporary time alone, hm? Relax a bit.” Kafka plants her lips against your cheek, then against your jaw, and further into the crook of your neck. As much as you’d like to pretend there’s passion in it, you can’t tell her true intentions. Is it boredom that draws her to you? 

In her spare hand, the cigarette continues to burn. You jerk away, and she pauses, pulling back by only a fraction. A cool breath is blown onto the newly forming bruises, but you put the sensation out of mind. It’s a method of distraction, and only that. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?” You mock. “Stop acting like this isn’t… like you didn’t just leave my kid.” 

Kafka has enough sense to withdraw at least, and an uncomfortable gap grows between you two. The rain is cold, and the thin sweater you’d put on does little against the wind. You knew what would happen today, and yet nothing could’ve prepared you for the sinking dread of knowing it had truly happened. The reality is always harsher than the expectation.

Stelle wasn’t yours in any traditional way. But you taught her what she knew. You told her stories, you brushed her hair, you mended her clothes when she returned from a mission. 

“Kafka,” you begin carefully, “I don’t think I’m staying with the Stellaron Hunters.” 

Nothing is said. Her cigarette returns to her lips.

“I have to know she’s alright.” 

“You have a bounty, you know.” She reminds you. 

“And?” 

“It’d mean a lot of trouble if the IPC picked you up. Don’t put Bladie and I through the hassle of getting you back.” 

Between your fingers, you twirl the cigarette she gave you. Then, you drop it over the side of the balcony. You lose sight of it quickly, and you don’t care to search for it as you turn around to face the glass door. Kafka doesn’t stop you as you slide it back, and pause at the threshold.

“Elio’s script doesn’t need me, does it?” 

The pause is all you need to know. You step through the door, back into the cold dark hotel room. Kafka watches from the balcony as you gather your things, the only sound being that of the rain falling outside. Once your things are packed neatly, you place down the burner phone Silver Wolf provided you at the beginning of the mission. It sits on the bed like flowers over a grave. 

You never were that much of a Stellaron Hunter. Not like the others. Your specialties were only needed to ensure no one died of infection or malnutrition– but medicinal expertise was a common commodity these days, and they’d find a workaround easily. 

Turning back to the balcony door, you meet her eyes. Goodbye isn’t as hard as you expected it to be. Was that how she felt? 

“I’ll see you. Eventually.” You say, before slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading towards the door. 

“Eventually.” Kafka sighs.

[killerpancakeburger]

Tags: suggestive, angst with a happy ending, gn!Reader, virgin!reader, low self-esteem!reafer, established relationship but they never went all the way. 300 words. Pic credit to @esteljune

When you tell Soap you've never had an orgasm, you fully expect him to laugh in your face.

And he does.

The carefree, genuine sound stings.

It's even more painful because until now, your brain and heart have grown accustomed to link Johnny's laugh to something soft, warm, pleasant. You’re used to your him laughing with you, not at you.

You shrink on yourself, the weight of your inadequacy, abnormality suddenly dialed up to eleven.

You never meant for the conversation to take that turn. He was joking around about how such thing would never be as good as an orgasm, and before you could bite your tongue, the sentence spilled from your lips— I wouldn't know.

You'd swallow the words back if you could. Take back the vulnerability you stupidly showed and tuck it back deep inside you.

"Very funny," he adds, and you sitffen upon hearing his voice again, but dare to give him a sidelong look, and the expression on his face makes it all clear.

He laughed because he really thought you were joking.

His features twist with concern as he takes in the pain on your face. He slowly raises a hand to cradle your face.

"What's wrong, hen?"

You look down in shame, retreat from his touch. There's no dignified reply you can offer him, so you stay mute.

It doesn't take him long to put two and two together, though.

"...Ye weren't kidding."

Withdrawing into silence, you don’t confirm, but you don't deny it either.

However you forsake that silence soon enough when Soap grabs your ankle to drag you down the bed, pulling a surprised screech from you.

You raise on your elbows to stare at him in shock; kneeling between your parted legs, he's attacking the button of your pants. You press the sole of your foot against his chest to stop him.

"Wowowoh, what are you doing!?"

He looks up at you like it's self-evident, his expression a mix of puppy eyes and righteous indignation at the interruption.

"Makin' up fer lost time. Gonna give ye an orgasm fer every one I've had. Only with my tongue and my fingers though. Dinnae want tae get distracted from the mission objective."

[urdreamydoodles]

Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x Fem!Reader

Laughing at every jokes he make

You find yourself on a romantic stroll with Remy LeBeau, where his playful jokes and charming demeanor lead to a deeper connection. As your laughter draws you closer, you both realize there's more than just flirtation between you, culminating in a tender and passionate moment.

The warm glow of the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the streets of New Orleans, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and the lively hum of jazz music in the distance. You found yourself walking alongside Remy LeBeau, your hand barely brushing against his as the two of you meandered through the quiet backstreets. The gentle breeze carried with it the rich smells of the city and a sense of anticipation you could feel in your bones, a feeling heightened whenever you were in his presence.

Remy had insisted on taking you out for a stroll, away from the chaos of your usual lives as X-Men, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. It was impossible to say no to that roguish smile of his, the one that made you feel like you were the only person in the world who could see through his devil-may-care attitude to the heart beneath. Today, though, Remy was especially playful, cracking jokes at every turn.

“Y’know,” he began, his deep Cajun accent weaving through his words like music, “if de X-Men ever decide t’fire me, I got a back-up career as a stand-up comedian.”

You chuckled softly, the sound light and airy, though the joke itself was far from laugh-out-loud funny. “You sure about that? You might want to keep practicing.”

His grin widened, eyes flashing with a spark of mischief. “Practice? Chère, I’m already a master. Ain’t nobody got charm like Remy LeBeau.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, a little louder this time. There was something about the way he said things, like he didn’t care whether they were funny or not—he was confident you’d laugh anyway. And, of course, you did. It wasn’t just the jokes themselves, though. It was the way he carried himself, with a swagger that spoke volumes, and the way he’d glance at you, his red-and-black eyes lingering just a little too long, sending a shiver down your spine.

Remy raised an eyebrow as he leaned in closer. “Now you laughin’, but I know y’thinkin’ I got potential.”

“Potential to get booed off the stage, maybe,” you teased, nudging his arm with your shoulder, your eyes crinkling at the corners from how hard you were smiling.

“Ah, chère, you wound me!” Remy dramatically placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt, though his smirk gave him away. “Lucky for me, I got a beautiful girl like you t’keep me company. Long as you laughin’, dat’s all dat matters.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the casual compliment, even though you were used to his flirtations by now. Being called “beautiful” by Remy was like being told the sky was blue—he said it so often, you’d think it would lose its effect. But it never did. It always felt like a small flame igniting inside you every time the word passed his lips.

Your laughter faded into a quiet smile as you glanced up at him, watching the way the evening light softened his sharp features. Remy had a way of making everything feel light, like the weight of the world could fall away when you were with him. He was always making jokes, always teasing, and you always laughed, even when they weren’t all that funny. It wasn’t that his jokes were bad—they just didn’t always hit the mark. But the way he looked at you when he delivered them, with that lazy, confident grin, you couldn’t help but laugh. Because he was trying, and because, for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, his laughter became contagious, drawing your own out of you like a melody that was meant to be sung.

As the two of you continued walking, you noticed Remy glance at you out of the corner of his eye, the smile on his lips softening. There was something different in his expression now, something quieter and more thoughtful. He stopped suddenly, taking your hand in his without a word, guiding you toward a small, secluded park nestled between two rows of charming old houses.

“C’mere,” he said softly, pulling you toward a bench shaded by a large oak tree. The branches above rustled gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the ground beneath your feet. Remy sat down, his hand still holding yours, and patted the spot next to him.

You sat, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, your hand still tingling from his touch. The playful banter had died down now, replaced by a silence that felt… deeper, more intimate.

“Y’know,” Remy began after a moment, his voice quieter than before, “I been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t often that Remy got serious, and when he did, you knew it was important. “What’s on your mind?”

He looked at you, his red-on-black eyes meeting yours in a way that made your breath catch. “I been thinkin’ ‘bout you. ‘Bout us.”

There was a pause, the words hanging in the air between you like the last note of a song waiting to fade. You weren’t sure what to say, so you waited, letting him find the words.

“You always laugh at my jokes,” he said, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even when they ain’t so funny. Why’s dat, chère?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. It seemed so simple, but the way he asked it—like it meant more than just the surface—made your heart stutter in your chest. You glanced away for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts, before looking back at him with a smile of your own.

“I guess… I just like hearing you talk,” you said, feeling the truth of it even as you spoke the words. “Doesn’t matter if the joke is funny or not. I like being around you, Remy. You make me feel… lighter. Happier.”

His expression softened at that, his smile turning more genuine, more tender. “Dat so?” he murmured, leaning just a little closer, his voice low and smooth, like the soft rumble of thunder in the distance.

You nodded, your heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah, it is. I don’t think I could stop laughing around you even if I tried.”

For a moment, Remy said nothing, just watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle. Then, without warning, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin longer than necessary. His touch sent a thrill down your spine, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Y’know,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I been doin’ a lot of thinkin’ ‘bout how lucky I am.”

“Lucky?” you echoed, your voice quieter now, the world around you seeming to fade as the space between you and Remy grew smaller.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his hand still resting lightly against your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Lucky dat someone like you’d wanna spend time wit’ someone like me. Wit’ all my bad jokes an’ all.”

You laughed, the sound soft and breathless, and Remy’s smile widened at the sound. “I think I’m the lucky one,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Remy’s eyes darkened slightly at that, and you could feel the air between you shift, becoming charged with something unspoken. For a long moment, neither of you moved, the world narrowing to just the two of you, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, Remy leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Can I kiss you, chère?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart raced, your pulse pounding in your ears as you nodded, unable to form words. The moment you did, Remy’s lips met yours, soft and warm, sending a surge of electricity through your entire body. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, but it quickly deepened as Remy wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back, every thought in your mind dissolving into the sensation of being this close to him. His lips were firm yet soft, his touch tender but possessive, as though he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Remy rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in soft, shallow pants. He smiled, a real smile, the kind that reached his eyes, and your heart swelled in your chest.

“Now dat’s a punchline I can get behind,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

And just like that, you laughed again, not because the joke was funny, but because you were happy—truly, completely happy.