#I will admit I did not keep both hands on the phone
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midnight-shadow-cafe · 2 days ago
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Underneath It All
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
AU: CEO!John Price x Assistant!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, secret pining, office romance
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! This CEO AU has been stuck in my head for days, and I couldn’t resist writing it. Let me know what you think!
Masterlist
MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+
Your morning started the same way it always did: stepping into the gleaming glass doors of Price Industries, coffee in hand, and your nerves wound tight. As John Price’s personal assistant, you knew every day would be a marathon of meetings, calls, and last-minute changes. But none of that compared to the hardest part of your job—keeping your feelings for your boss in check.
John Price wasn’t just any CEO. He was the CEO. Sharp suits, a commanding voice, and an air of quiet confidence that made everyone sit up a little straighter. But beneath all that, he was kind, attentive, and unexpectedly warm, especially with you.
Every soft smile he sent your way, every casual “Morning, love” made your heart skip a beat. You had to remind yourself daily that it didn’t mean anything. He was your boss, and you were just his assistant. That was it.
“Good morning, Mr. Price,” you greeted as you stepped into his office, placing his coffee on the edge of his desk.
He glanced up from his laptop, his brow furrowed in thought. But the moment his eyes met yours, his expression softened. “Morning, love.”
Your stomach flipped, but you pushed the feeling aside, holding out the folder in your hand. “Your meeting with the board is at ten. Everything you need is in here.”
He reached for the coffee first, taking a sip before setting it down. “Efficient as ever. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Your lips twitched into a small smile. “Fall apart, probably.”
His low chuckle filled the room. “Probably.”
---
By mid-afternoon, you were juggling phone calls, rescheduling meetings, and sorting through contracts when John emerged from his office. His tie was loosened, and the faintest shadow of frustration lingered in his expression.
“Lunch?” you asked, holding up a bag from the deli down the street.
He paused mid-step, his frown easing. “You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”
“Part of the job,” you teased lightly, handing him the bag.
Instead of retreating to his office, he sat at the small table near your desk and gestured for you to join him. You hesitated before sitting across from him, pulling out your own lunch.
“How was the meeting?” you asked, unwrapping your sandwich.
“Bloody useless,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Half of them don’t know what they’re talking about, and the other half just want to argue for the sake of it.”
You laughed softly, the sound pulling a small smile from him. “Well, at least you’ve got a good sandwich to make up for it.”
He raised a brow, smirking. “Are you always this optimistic, or is it just to keep me from losing my mind?”
“A little of both,” you admitted, earning another chuckle from him.
For a moment, the conversation drifted into a comfortable silence. You couldn’t help but admire how different he seemed in these moments—relaxed, almost vulnerable. It made it even harder to keep your feelings buried.
---
By the time the office began to empty out, you were still at your desk, double-checking the calendar for the next day. You didn’t realize John was still there until his voice broke the silence.
“Still here?”
You looked up, startled to find him leaning against the doorframe. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing just a hint of his collarbone.
“Just finishing up,” you replied, closing your laptop.
He stepped into your office, his presence filling the small space. “You shouldn’t work so late.”
“Says the man who’s still here,” you shot back with a smirk.
He chuckled, low and warm, before his gaze softened. “Come to dinner with me,” he said suddenly.
Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“Dinner,” he repeated, stepping closer. “Just the two of us.”
You hesitated, your mind racing. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
“Why not?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.
“People might talk,” you murmured, looking anywhere but at him.
“Let them,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I care what you think.”
Your breath hitched at his words, at the quiet vulnerability in his tone. “John…”
“I’ve wanted to say something for months now,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. Not anymore.”
Your heart was pounding, your cheeks warm. You searched his face for any sign that he wasn’t serious, but all you saw was sincerity.
“Say yes,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “Just this once.”
You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Okay.”
The smile that spread across his face was enough to make every worry fade. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.
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I hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜
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slaytheday12 · 1 day ago
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Omg I had the cutest idea for a fix for Walker and if I'm being honest I just didn't want to write it myself 😂
But, hear me out, Walker and reader aren't dating but they're hanging out on like TomTom live and the chat keeps shipping them together and they like secretly like each other.
Idk I think it would be cute, don't feel pressured to make it PR anything. Love you ❤
Chat knows best
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Walker adjusted his phone on the stand, his easy smile as his live stream began. You sat cross-legged on the couch beside him, a little more nervous than you cared to admit. It wasn’t your first time joining his live, but every time you did, the chat seemed to erupt with shipping the two of you.
“Hey, everyone!” Walker greeted, waving to the camera. “Hope you’re all doing good tonight. And look who’s with me, Y/N decided to crash the party again.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him. “Yeah, because you begged me to join,” you teased.
The chat instantly exploded.
“Y/N AND WALKER TOGETHER AGAIN 😍” “Okay but are they dating yet?” “Besties or something more? 👀”
Walker laughed, glancing at you. “They’re starting already,” he said under his breath.
You smirked, leaning closer to the screen. “You guys have no chill, huh?”
“STOP FLIRTING, OMG.” “Just date already!” “They’re literally soulmates, I’m calling it.”
Walker cleared his throat, scrolling through the flood of comments. “Alright, let’s try to keep it semi-normal tonight. We’re here to hang out, answer some questions, and maybe argue over movie rankings.”
“Which I’ll win,” you added confidently, earning a laugh from Walker.
The two of you started answering questions, most of them harmless. But every now and then, a comment would pop up that made your cheeks heat.
“What’s your dream date?” “Are you guys secretly dating? Be honest.” “They HAVE to like each other. Look at them.”
Walker hesitated as he read one of the questions aloud. “Uh… ‘If you could go on a date, where would it be?’” He looked at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Any thoughts?”
Your stomach flipped, but you kept your voice steady. “I don’t know… maybe something fun, like a theme park. Rides are a great distraction.”
“Solid choice,” Walker said, nodding. “I’d go for something low-key, like a picnic on the beach or something.”
The chat immediately lost it.
“OMG HE WANTS TO TAKE HER TO THE BEACH.” “STOP, THEY’VE DEFINITELY TALKED ABOUT THIS.” “Walker, just confess already!”
You laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Your fans are… relentless,” you muttered, though you couldn’t stop the blush spreading across your cheeks.
“They’re passionate, that’s for sure,” Walker said, rubbing the back of his neck.
The live continued, but the energy felt different. Every teasing comment or playful glance only added to the undercurrent of the unspoken energy. By the time Walker ended the stream, both of you were flushed and grinning.
“That was… intense,” you said, leaning back against the couch.
“Yeah,” Walker agreed, his voice a little quieter now.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, but more like you were both reflecting on something.
Walker broke the tension first, glancing at you with a small, hesitant smile. “You know… they’re not entirely wrong.”
You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”
He looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “About me liking you,” he said softly. Then, as if he couldn’t stop himself, he looked back up at you. “I’ve been wanting to say something for a while, but I didn’t know how. And, well, leave it to the live to push me over the edge.”
You stared at him, your mind racing. He liked you?
“Walker,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “For the record… they weren’t wrong about me, either.”
His eyes widened slightly, a grin spreading across his face. “So… does this mean we’re giving them what they want?”
You laughed, your heart lighter than it had been all night. “I guess we are.”
Walker reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the start of something so much bigger. And for the first time, you didn’t mind the chat being a little too nosy. After all, they’d just given you the push you both needed.
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A/N: not me completing a request in one day.... can u tell i have to much time on my hands lol. send me request pretty please with a cheery on top. also thank u for the request love u moreee
Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days ago
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Arrest Me, Cop Cutie
Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader
Summary: After another failed attempt at a date, Tim goes undercover. You have no choice but to arrest him, and he's unhappy with the decisions you make trying to do so.
Warnings: brief angst, minor injuries, fluff, Tim gets flirty when he's undercover, mention of drug trafficking, typical show warnings
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info
she puts the short in shorty, and he looks like he wants to chase me. cop cuties, cute and on duty, navy blue booties, go ahead and lock me up.
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“So,” you begin.
“Don’t,” Tim interrupts, raising one hand from the steering wheel to point at you. “Just don’t.”
“Big, bad Bradford believes in jinxing?” you ask sarcastically. “And here I thought you were just keeping up appearances to hide the softie within.”
Tim sighs, slowing as he hits his blinker. You’ve been trying to get dinner together for weeks. Something comes up whenever you attempt to go somewhere together or meet at a restaurant. The first time, Tim got called in for a last-minute Metro assignment. Most recently, you were both alerted of a nearby officer-involved shooting. So far, tonight seems quiet, but you understand Tim’s hesitance to admit it. Though you’re still confused about why Tim agreed to get dinner with you after you handcuffed him to a guardrail in a warehouse-turned-drug-house, you want the date to go well. Is it a date? you ask yourself. Tim never clarified if this was for both of you or just for the apology you offered to give.
Tim parks outside a restaurant Lucy recommended and waits for a moment. Everything remains calm, and you smile because you can finally have dinner with Tim Bradford.
And then your phone rings, so the moment is shattered.
“Hello?” you greet, closing your eyes. You listen to Angela’s quick recount of the last half hour, then say, “Yeah, I can be there in a few minutes… Mmhmm, no problem.”
Ending the call, you drop your phone to your lap and shake your head. “I’m so sorry, Tim. Lopez needs-“
Tim’s phone ringing cuts you off, and he shows you Angela’s name on the caller ID before he answers. A moment later, he shifts into reverse and backs out of the parking space.
“Jake Butler,” Tim says. “I thought we threw him in jail after the Vegas incident.”
“We did,” you answer flatly. “Guess he got out. If I find him, he’s going to pay for ruining everything.”
“Did Angela tell you anything else?”
“Just that he was back on their radar, and they saw an opening to figure out the operation.”
“Fantastic,” Tim deadpans.
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“Hey, bro!” Jake exclaims as you and Tim enter the interview room with Angela. “Whoa, you clean up nice, man? You on a date or something?”
“Something,” Tim replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “Get to the point, Butler.”
“Must’ve been a good something,” Jake murmurs. He looks at you and smiles before explaining the deal going down tonight.
“What is your boss expecting you to bring?” you inquire.
“Good work ethic,” he says, shrugging. “And product, obviously.”
“How much product?” Tim presses.
“The exact amount that is in my car.”
“We’ll be confiscating all of that after the operation,” Angela reminds him. Turning to you, she says, “He’s offering his car as part of the deal with the DA. This guy has only spoken to Jake here on the phone, so there’s not much of a chance of anyone close to him noticing any difference when Tim walks in.”
“Yeah,” Jake drawls. “Y’all see the tats, right?”
“Yeah,” you answer. “We see the tats.”
“How long do we have?” Tim asks.
“Drop is at 6,” Jake says. “I park in the underground lot, go up to his penthouse, and we work from there.”
“Specific,” you mumble, drawing a grunt from Tim.
“Thanks, Mr. Butler,” Angela says. “And if anything you told us was wrong, we’re throwing your deal in the gutter with your future. Okay?”
“Yeah, shawty.”
Tim rolls his eyes and follows Angela out of the room. You linger until the door is closed and ask, “Is there anything else you think you should tell us?”
“There’s a panic room,” Jake admits. “Code was 1016 last I was there.”
You nod, then exit the room and wonder what you’d be doing right now if your night had gone according to plan.
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“UC parked in 238, underground lot,” someone radios.
You watch the cameras in the surveillance van, tracking Tim’s movements toward the penthouse. While Tim was being transformed to look like Jake, you insisted on staying with Metro for the duration of the operation. You must be close enough to bail Tim out if things go south, you explained. Your captain then brought up the defiance of direct orders during your last Metro op. You were only allowed to join the team with Angela’s vote of confidence and your promise to do anything and everything they say to keep Bradford safe.
Tim knocks on the door and greets the large, armed man who opens it. He sounds like Jake, but you know it’s Tim, and your heart rate speeds up with each step he takes inside. Once he’s in the penthouse, you can’t see him. You can hear him through a long-distance microphone attached to the sniper’s rifle across the street. His tracker blinks on one of the screens, and you clench your jaw as you listen and watch.
“Where’s my stuff, Butler?” someone yells.
“Whoa, man, I wasn’t gonna cart that kind of purchase past the doorman,” Tim argues with a chuckle.
“Whose decision is that? Whose paying for all of it? Who got you out of jail?!”
That answers one question.
“Last we talked, you told me to park, come up here, and we’d work from there,” Tim reminds him. “If you changed the plan without telling me, I guess that’s on me.”
“That was never the plan. Are you trying to screw me, Butler?”
“Nah, man, just a miscommunication. Tell me what you want me to do to fix it.”
The man hesitates, then repeats, “Fix it?”
You stand as the officer sitting across from you prepares to open the door. The van is painted to look like an internet service vehicle, so you could park close to the apartments where Tim is.
“Yeah, I’ll do whatever it takes,” Tim replies.
The unmistakable sound of guns racking fills the van, and the Metro commander radios for everyone to move in now. Running through the parking lot and into the building, you don’t notice the stares you receive, only the intel communicated through your earpiece.
“UC held at gunpoint,” the sniper alerts. “I don’t have a clear shot. Three armed men, plus two at the door.”
“Suspect has cameras on his floor,” another voice says. “Approach from the southern elevators and utilize limited penetration entry through the front door.”
You race up the steps, your heart pounding like it will break through your ribs. Tim is in danger, his life is being threatened, and you’re terrified that you’re too far away to save him. When you reach the landing on the penthouse floor, you struggle to focus on your job. With a deep breath, you remind yourself to obey for Tim. If you rush in, you’ll just get yourself killed, too.
“Hold!” the commander instructs. “We’ve lost visual. UC is moving west.”
“There’s nothing to the west,” Angela replies. “It’s blocked off. Probably utilities.”
“The panic room!” you remember.
“Butler didn’t tell you where it was,” she argues. “We can’t tell on thermal.”
“It’s probably lined, but you’re right.”
“We don’t have time to wait,” Angela decides. “Assume our UC is in the panic room but keep your eyes open and stay alert. Breach.”
You’re fourth in line as you enter the penthouse. Seven Metro officers against five armed criminals is as close to a fair fight as you can expect in your line of work. When you step inside, the man who was guarding the door runs toward you. Dropping your gun, you brace yourself against his hit. His hands shove into your shoulders, and you grip his wrists as he pushes you against the wall. Everyone around you is fighting, so you hold your own against a man who outweighs you and towers over you. Tim is nowhere in sight, nor is Jake’s employer, so you’ll have to fight through this chaos to find him.
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Tim watches as the man leading him through a lead-lined hallway types 1-0-1-6 into a keypad. It opens a door into what is clearly a doomsday-style panic room, and he raises his hands as he’s shepherded into it. The heavy doors silence the fight outside, so Tim doesn’t know whether his backup is on the way or if they can locate this well-hidden last resort.
“Where’d the cops come from, Butler? You workin’ with them now?” the man demands, brandishing a curved knife.
“What cops, man?” Tim asks, his voice rising in imitation of Jake.
“The doorman saw a whole team of uniformed tactical guys rush into the place! That’s not what I signed up for.”
“Me neither! Do I look like I’d be making a deal with cops? I’m low-time, I’d go to jail either way and you know better than some attorney that I don’t do cells.”
“Then tell me how they found us right after you did!”
Tim steps back, creating room between himself and the knife. Without any weapons, he would prefer to de-escalate the situation verbally if possible. As the man looks at him, he sees a crazy look in his eyes and assumes the verbal response is no longer an option.
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The Metro officers who entered the penthouse with you zip-tie the wrists of the five armed men while you look for an entrance to the panic room. A small latch on the side of a bookshelf catches your attention, and you tug it. The shelf pops away from the door, and a hiss sounds as you pull it open farther.
“I’ll get the UC,” you offer.
“We’ll keep these guys quiet,” an officer replies. “Radio if you need help.”
You nod once, then jog into the hallway. There’s a keypad halfway down the hall, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you type in the code Jake gave you. Another door hisses as its seal is broken.
“Knock knock!” you call, raising your gun to your shoulder as you move toward the lead door. “LAPD Metro, come out with your hands up!”
You’re met with silence, and you work to steady your breath as you near the door. Before you nudge it open, someone hits it with a quick downward slap. Off-balance, you let the gun fall as you stumble inside.
The man you recognize as Jake’s employer manages to get you on the ground, and you twist to elbow him in the throat. He swings his fist down, and you don’t see the blade tucked between his fingers. He hits your jaw, and your cheekbone stings as the tip of the knife scrapes across it. Pulling your knee up, you aim between his legs. He buckles forward, and you wrap your arms around his upper body. Swinging your leg, you flip to be on top of him.
Panting, you demand, “Roll over. You’re under arrest.”
He groans and doesn’t move. After you knock the knife away from him, you pull his arm to flip him onto his stomach. With your knee pressing between his kidneys, you pull a zip-toe closed around his wrists, then sit back on your heels.
Tim smirks at your position, and you shake your head as you move into a half-kneel position. Wiping blood from your cheek, you push yourself to your feet.
“Jake Butler, you’re under arrest,” you say. “Put your hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”
Tim looks at your cut cheek, then at the man zip-tied and squirming in pain beneath you.
“Yeah, I’ll comply,” Tim drawls. “Since I’m making it easy, could you try to make the whole arrest me thing a little sexy? I’ve always had a thing for cop cuties, with their navy blue booties.”
“Shut up,” you demand as you pull his hands behind his back.
“Yeah, go ahead and lock me up,” he continues as you secure the handcuffs around his wrists.
“I’m 10-4 in the panic room. Butler and his employer are in custody,” you radio.
An officer appears in the doorway to help you escort both men to the patrol cars waiting outside the lobby. He hauls Jake’s boss to his feet and leads him out of the panic room. You follow, leading Tim through the penthouse and into the hall.
After the elevator closes and all the arrested men have been escorted out, you remove his cuffs. He turns toward you quickly, his jaw clenched tightly. You recognize the look and know he’s about to yell at you.
“I know, I know, you never put the cuffs on me,” you say before he can begin. “Sorry, but there were too many people who could see.”
“You really think that’s what I’m mad about?” Tim questions. “I don’t care what you do to UCs.”
“Then what are you mad about?” you ask softly.
Tim raises his hand to your face but stops before he touches you. His hand falls, and he says, “You got hurt. Medics will be ready at the station.”
As Tim turns away from you, you wish he had touched you.
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At the end of the day, you exit the station and sigh. You received treatment for your minor injuries, completed the reports, and patrolled before your end of shift. Walking through the parking lot, you keep your eyes down and think about last night.
“A cut cheek isn’t getting you out of dinner,” Tim calls.
You look up at the sound of his voice and see him leaning against the tailgate of his truck.
“If you’re still up for it,” he adds.
“You’re just saying that because I’m a cop cutie,” you reply, smiling.
Tim groans at the reminder of what he said while he was undercover. He raises his hand again, but this time, he places his palm on your jaw and gently traces the bottom of your bandage. His movement and his touch say more than he ever has.
“If we finally go on a date, do you think we could stop arresting each other?” you inquire.
“Maybe,” he answers, opening the passenger door for you.
“That sounded too hopeful.”
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red-writes · 3 days ago
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yandere! izuku x reader
you went from being scared of the unknown caller that constantly blew up your phone with creepy messages and texts to somehow staying up late waiting for his call so you could moan into the phone while he tells you how to touch yourself.
cw: yandere behaviors/words, phone sex, ft sex, pet name princess is used.
a/n: ughhhhh pls I’ve hard this idea for forever now but I only just now decided to write it
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he was such a creep. he knew everything there was to know about you. your bra size, your shampoo and conditioner brands, even what the password was on your phone. it was creepy, he was creepy. and yet. somehow every night like clock work you'd shower and get ready for bed only to not sleep. at around eleven pm, your phone would ring. it would be a different number, with a different area code each day. today it was a 917. you answered with a quickness that could only be labeled as desperation. you held the phone to your ear.
“hello?” your breathing was already so heavy and he hadn't spoken a word, did he really have that much of an effect on you?
“good evening princess, how was work?” he inquires. his voice is so deep and it sends shivers throughout your whole body and the night had barely begun. you cleared your throat before speaking again, a sort of effort to keep yourself from melting into a pile of lusty goo barely 2 minuets into the conversation.
“annoying, as per usual. you?” this part of the conversation was strictly a formality, Izuku is meticulous and organized, there are some things that need to happen first before the fun.
“hard, but I wouldn't trade it for any other in the world” he quips and you sort of smile, apparently he was a big time pro hero, he claimed that you definitely saw him on tv and in magazines everywhere. 
“well, I'm glad you weren't hurt” you say and he gives you a gentle hum of agreement. there's silence for a moment before Izuku says anything else. 
“that co-worker of yours..denki, I think he might have a thing for you” Izuku expresses and your stomach drops but at the same time your cunt begins pulsing with need. he was jealous, its always more fun when he gets jealous.
“oh? why do you say that?” you respond and Izuku gives you a deep chuckle that has your hand twitching with the need to slip underneath the elastic of your panties.
“he always brings you lunch, hands always touching you in some way, it’s starting to irritate me you know” you hear him sigh from the other line and you’re giddy with excitement.
there’s a small buzzing coming from your phone and you pull it away from your ear to observe it, it’s a video call from Izuku. you’re quick to answer. he never shows his face but you have to show yours, so you turn the camera to face you and give him a small smile.
“hi izu” you whisper and you hear him chuckle, “aww, you sound so shy, are you embarrassed or eager? It’s hard to tell” he says.
“definitely both” you admit and with an amused huff of air falling from his mouth that concludes the small talk portion of the evening, Izuku’s camera turns on and you’re able to see everything except his face. his neck, chest and torso all on display. he was well built, he definitely had the body of a pro hero that’s for sure, his body was also covered in a light dusting of freckles that you thought were actually kind of cute.
“turn that camera around for me princess” he says and you do so, hitting the reverse camera button with your thumb.
“pretty panties, you’re finally wearing the ones I sent you, good girl.” he rewards and you’re preening from the praise. you angle the camera a bit lower so he can see directly between your legs,
“I’ll admit that.. I've been thinking about you all day” the light from your phone shows the dampness of your underwear and for some reason, it feels good to know that he's watching this, watching you. 
“I see. you're soaked my love, how about you take off your undies and show me how wet you are” 
You rested your phone on the bed before shimmying out of your panties and tossing them off the edge of your bed. You pick up your phone and angle the camera once again between your legs. 
“God you're so pretty aren't you?” he mumbles, more to himself than you and it does nothing but cause your nipples to stiffen under your shirt and a small ‘please’ to fall from your lips. 
“Go ahead and gather up some of your pretty pussy’s arousal and start rubbing your clit nice and slow for me” he says and you can see him gripping his cock in his hand and slowly stroking it with a focus on his tip, squeezing it a bit and he sucks in a breath when a drop of pre-cum lands on his abs. 
The show he puts on for you acts as more incentive to follow his orders. You gather up slick from your drooling hole and begin drawing small circles on your clit and the pleasure is immediate. You're unsure of what it is about tonight but your moans were already beginning to leak from your mouth and this slow pace was only frustrating you.
“I-Izu..can I speed up?” you asked and he chuckled from the other line
“Already starting to feel it? You weren't kidding when you said you'd been looking forward to this, were you ladybug?” 
When you don't reply he sighs softly, “You're so sensitive tonight, stop for me little one, I got a surprise for you” 
Your brain is a little hazy when you pull your fingers away from clit, it throbs visibly and Izuku coos. 
“Surprise?” 
“Mhm. check the first drawer on your night stand” 
“Can I set the phone down while I go check?” and he hums in approval. 
You place your phone on your bed and walk on slightly shaky legs to your large oak nightstand. You hook your fingers in the loops attached to the first drawer and a small gasp leaves your lips at the sight of a pink vibrator. 
It’s small enough to fit in your palm, with a bulbous head and a tail that trailed behind it you could guess where this was going. 
You climb back in bed and pick up your phone, “Found it.”
“Good job ladybug, grab some lube, don't want you to hurt yourself” he says and you feel your heart skip a beat at the caring sound of his voice.
You grab the lube resting on the bedside table and you lay back in bed. You wet the toy and gently push it inside of yourself. You whimper at the stretch it provides you and Izuku praises you from behind the screen. 
“You know what's special about this toy? I’m the one controlling it.” he mentions, you can see his cock twitch on the screen and he shows you the small plastic remote in his hands. He clicks one of the buttons and it causes the toy to activate, low vibrations course through your body and instantly you clench down on the toy. 
“O-oh..wow” you say and Izuku hums softly at your reaction.  “Tell me you want more and I’ll give it to you, I'll give you everything and anything you want” he says and you can see him resuming the slow stroke he paused earlier.
“I want more Izuku. please” you huff out and as soon as the words leave your mouth the vibrator is turned on the highest setting and it causes your back to arch off the bed and the phone to drop from your hand. 
“Tell me you're mine” he says and you can hardly respond, trying to get used to the feel of the strong vibrations that cause your cunt to squeeze down on the plastic down desperately. Slick pours from your cunt causing the sheets under you to become sticky. 
“I-I’m yours Izuku!” you whine and you him hum in approval. 
“Pick up the phone, I want to see that desperate little cunt of yours”
You do as you’re told and spread your legs, showing off your pussy with shaky hands. 
“Atta girl, you're so good for me” 
You can feel the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, your cunt is already spasming around the toy, threatening an orgasm. 
“Izu- g’nna cum, please can I cum?” 
“Mmm..” he says as if he's thinking about it. Your whimpers of desperation continue and Izuku’s hand on his cock speeds up, assuringly approaching his own orgasm. 
“Please please ‘m so close” you pant and a shiver runs through your body.
“Cum for me lovely” he grunts, cum splashes on his own abs and that pushes you over the edge and it forces your orgasm to brush over you like a wave, a gush of liquid shot out of your cunt and onto the camera lens. you dropped your phone as your body spasmed. 
Once you came down from your high, Izuku had ended the FaceTime and reverted to normal phone call. Only your heavy breaths were heard from behind the phone.
“How was it?” he asked and you giggled tiredly 
“Really good” 
“You sleepy ladybug?”
“Mhm..”
“Make sure to clean up before falling asleep lovely”
“Mhm” you yawned. 
“Want you to get some sleep then tomorrow I'll call you same time okay?”
“Yeah..see you tomorrow” you slurred and he chuckled softly from behind the phone
“Goodnight my love”
104 notes · View notes
bruhnze · 2 days ago
Text
Pink Skies - Lucy x Ona
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Summary: Nostalgic Luna fic! A slow morning when Lucy Bronze and Ona Battle still both played for Barça. Written cus i miss that era. (Or: Lucy being head over heels in love with her girlfriend.)
Warnings: fluff / smut-ish (suggestive) so MDNI
Wc: 3340
proofread by @pinkygirl28
Wow, Lucy thought, how is she so beautiful?
The sun was already shining through the shutters, filling the room with a soft glow. They were lying in bed in her apartment in Barcelona, but honestly, it felt more like their apartment now.
Ona was here more often than not. Their dogs, Narla and Coco, were sleeping peacefully in the living room. Coco even had his own little bed here.
Details like that made Lucy happy. They were all small ways in which their lives became more and more intertwined
Ona was still fast asleep beside her. It had been a late night after the game. Today they had a free morning before recovery at the club in the afternoon.
She looked over at the alarm clock, there were still a couple hours until it would go off.
Lucy turned to lie on her side, her head propped up on her hand. Ona was facing her, also on her side, her features highlighted pink by the sunlight that peeked through the shutters.
Lucy adored her, loved her. Ona was simply the most beautiful person on the planet, but she loved her besides that too, her kindness, her humor, or her cleverness, she just had everything.
Even now, lying there with dry lips, her hair in a messy bun.. or more like an artistic interpretation of one, and wearing a faded shirt that had seen better days but she refused to throw away because she loved it too much, Ona looked like a dream.
Lucy couldn't understand how she had gotten this lucky, how this was her life now.
Her gaze roamed over Ona’s peaceful face before lingering on her skin, which looked impossibly soft and so kissable.
Her heart swelled as a wave of affection washed over her. She wanted to kiss Ona, to hold her, to somehow convey the overwhelming love that was brimming inside her.
Leaning in, Lucy hovered closer until Ona’s soft breath tickled her face.
She couldn’t resist anymore. She pressed the gentlest kiss to Ona’s cheek, her lips barely grazing her skin.
Ona stirred, letting out a soft groan as she rolled onto her stomach, her face half-buried in her pillow.
Lucy bit her lip, smiling to herself but trying to keep silent.  
With Ona’s face no longer turned toward her, her gaze drifted to the back of Ona’s neck, where a few baby hairs had curled against her skin.
Gently, Lucy reached out, running her fingers lightly down Ona’s spine.
When Ona didn’t stir again, she leaned in and placed a series of soft, featherlight kisses on her neck.
“Luce…” Ona mumbled, her voice rough and muffled by the pillow.
Lucy nestled her face into Ona’s neck, letting her body rest halfway on top of the smaller girl.
She smoothed her hand over the soft skin of Ona’s upper arm and whispered, “Sorry for waking you.”
She’d been awake for a while, first scrolling on her phone, then watching Ona sleep.
Normally, she would’ve gotten out of bed by now, but today she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She wanted to feel her girlfriend close, to soak in this quiet intimacy. Her love for Ona was so intense, so overwhelming, that it almost scared her.
No—it did scare her sometimes.
“How late is it?” Ona murmured, her voice low and sleepy.
Lucy pressed another kiss to Ona’s neck. “Almost eight, baby.”
“Madre mía,” Ona groaned, her words muffled as she buried her face further into the pillow. “Thought we said we’d set the alarm for ten?”
Lucy smiled, nuzzling her face further against Ona’s neck. “We did,” she admitted, placing a soft kiss there. “I know.”
Ona groaned again, her tone somewhere between annoyance and affection. “I’m still tired.”
“Sorry,” Lucy whispered, punctuating the word with a few more kisses against Ona’s skin.
“don’t want sex right now,” Ona mumbled.
Lucy chuckled softly. “That’s not why I woke you up.”
“Then why did you?” Ona sighed, trying to shift but finding herself pinned under Lucy’s weight.
Lucy eased off slightly, giving her some room to move. She smiled as Ona turned towards her. Her face was still sleepy, one eye still closed while the other was half-open.
Leaning in, Lucy began peppering Ona’s face with soft kisses. Ona grumbled softly in protest but didn’t push her away.
“What?” Ona asked, her voice a sleepy mumble.
“I just love you so much,” Lucy whispered. “I’m sorry for waking you. It was an accident.”
“If you love me, let me sleep,” Ona groaned.
“Can I have a kiss first?”
Ona sighed, but leaned in anyway. "Sólo uno," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Lucy nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut as she closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, that sent a wave of warmth through Lucy’s chest.
As they pulled apart, she gazed at Ona, her heart racing. I want to give her everything she could ever want, Lucy thought, her eyes soft with adoration.
“Hey,” Lucy began softly, “what’s your favorite breakfast? Like if we go out?”
Ona groaned again, curling back up as if to hide from Lucy’s sudden burst of energy. “Luce…”
“That bakery where Coco peed on the door?” Lucy pressed, tucking a strand of hair behind Ona’s ear.
Ona hummed against the pillow. “Chocolate croissant.”
“Coffee from the apple tart place?”
“Sí,” Ona murmured. “The best coffee.”
“Or a matcha?” Lucy asked, as Ona sometimes joined her in that order.
“Café con leche,” Ona whispered sleepily.
“Or juice from that place Salma showed you?” Lucy pressed, determined to piece together the perfect breakfast plan.
“Luce, I’m sleeping,” Ona groaned tiredly.
“The purple one or the green juice? Or the orange one… you got that once, too.”
“No. Coffee’s better,” Ona mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.
“But if you were-” Lucy started.
“-blueberries,” Ona interrupted, her tone bordering on exasperation. “Please, I want to sleep.”
Lucy chuckled softly. “Okay, you know what? I’ll walk the dogs and let you sleep a bit longer. After that, we can go out for breakfast before heading to the club.” She pressed one last kiss to Ona’s temple before slipping out of bed.
Ona didn’t even respond, she was already back asleep.
..
As Lucy stepped outside with the dogs, she paused, taking in the breathtaking sky. A perfect gradient of pinks and oranges painted the horizon, and she couldn’t resist stopping to snap a picture. The world just felt so much brighter when you were in love, or maybe it was just the beauty of this morning. She sent the picture to her mom with a ‘Good morning’ and then followed it up with a ‘Love you, miss you.’ smiling to herself as she sent it. Life was beautiful.
Lucy’s plan was to surprise Ona with breakfast at home, instead of heading out to one of their usual spots, she decided to walk by all their favorite places and pick up everything Ona liked most.
A chocolate croissant for Ona, a regular one for herself from the little bakery.
From the most recent place they'd visited together, the one Ona had taken her to a couple of days after she’d gone with her friends, she grabbed a blue juice for Ona and a green one for herself. She liked the blue one too but chose the green one just in case Ona wanted to switch.
Lastly, she passed the coffee shop, where she ordered a matcha for herself and a coffee for Ona. The barista greeted her and the dogs with a smile, and they chatted for a moment before Lucy took the to-go cups in a carton holder and made her way back home.
She was grateful that Narla and Coco weren’t leash pullers, because she had her hands full of stuff.
Opening the door was a bit of a struggle, but she managed, and as expected, the house was still quiet. She kicked off her shoes and hung her jacket on the hook.
First, she filled Narla and Coco’s bowls with kibble, then made her way to their bedroom with the breakfast.
She stood there for a moment, watching Ona, who was lying on her side of the bed. Ona had always said she loved that Lucy’s spot was warm and smelled like her. 
Lucy gently placed the breakfast on the bedside table beside Ona and quickly peeled off her jeans before climbing back into bed.
She snuggled close, feeling the warmth of Ona’s body.
As soon as Ona stirred and shifted to face her, Lucy smiled.
"Where were you?" Ona murmured, still half-asleep.
"Walked the dogs?" Lucy chuckled softly. "I told you."
"Did you?" Ona groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I don’t remember."
Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. "Did you get a little more sleep, at least?" she asked, brushing a strand of hair from Ona’s face, smiling as the strand of hair fell back infront of her face again.
"Yes," Ona yawned, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "Was the walk nice?"
Lucy smiled warmly, cupping Ona’s cheek with one hand. "Yes, it was," she replied. "The sky was pretty… I made a picture, do you want to see?"
‘’Mhm,’’
Lucy opened her phone gallery, scrolling to the picture she had taken earlier, and held it out to Ona. "Look," she said softly, her voice warm with excitement.
Ona rubbed her eyes, sitting up slightly against the headboard, her hair falling messily around her face as she blinked at the screen. "Mmm very pretty," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. "you should send it to your mom."
"Ah I did," Lucy laughed, settling herself beside Ona. "did I tell you she loves pictures of the sky?" she asked with a laugh.
Ona nodded smiling, leaning into Lucy’s shoulder as she handed the phone back. "Mhm, you said," she whispered. "It’s a nice picture, I bet she’ll love it."
‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy agreed.
Lucy turned her head to press a kiss to Ona’s temple, her lips lingering for a moment. "Well," she said, her tone turning playful as she pulled back slightly, "you don’t remember, apparently, but we said we’d get breakfast when you were awake."
Ona frowned in mock confusion, tilting her head as she studied Lucy’s face. "Did we?"
Lucy laughed softly, brushing the strand of hair out of Ona’s face again. "Yeah, but I actually wanted to surprise you instead."
"Surprise me?" Ona’s voice held a hint of curiosity now, her sleepiness beginning to fade.
Lucy nodded, her smile widening. "Yep," she said as she swung her leg off the bed and reached over to grab the paper bag she had set down earlier. She placed it on the bed between them.
"First," Lucy said, opening the bag, and showing Ona, "a chocolate croissant from that bakery you love. The one where Coco peed on the door." She grinned as she handed it to Ona.
"Stop calling it that.’’ Ona rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks dimpling as she took the smaller paper bag containing her croissant. ‘’Coco just wanted to claim his spot, he knows what good places are.’’
Lucy laughed, then pulled out another bag. "And a croissant for me."
Ona smiled, as Lucy reached for the next item besides her.
"Next," Lucy announced, holding up two plastic cups, "a blue juice for you, and a green juice for me. Or the other way around if you rather have this one."
Ona’s eyes sparkled as she set her croissant down to take the juice, immediately taking the straw out of its wrapper and putting in. "Mmm, you’re the best," she said before taking a sip. ‘’I was craving this one, the blueberries.’’
Lucy’s grin grew as she held up the last two items. "And finally, coffee for you, and matcha for me. From the one café where the woman is who loves Narla and Coco.. she gave me an apple tart again." She handed Ona the coffee.
Ona took the cup and set it on her, well Lucy’s, bedside table. "I love this suprise," she said happily, ‘’I cant believe you went to three places for this.’’
Lucy shrugged, though her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Just wanted to make you happy."
Ona leaned over, pressing a kiss to Lucy’s cheek. "You do," she said simply.
Lucy chuckled.
After they’d drank half of their juices Ona took the croissant out of its bag. ‘’Ohh its still warm,’’ she gushed. ‘’Oof we really shouldn’t be eating this in bed, we’re going to have crumbs.’’
Lucy nodded, ‘’mhm, but I think the bed was due for a change anyways.’’
Ona hummed agreeingly, hovering over the bag with the croissant as she leaned in to take a bite.
Lucy smiled as she looked at Ona taking a bite of her croissant.
Ona moaned, closing her eyes as she chewed. "Mmm, esto es mejor que el sexo."
Lucy chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Oof, I’d hope I’m better than a pastry."
Ona looked up, confused. "Huh?"
"Better than sex," Lucy laughed. "You just said, ‘Mmm, this is better than sex.’"
Ona rolled her eyes and let herself fall back onto the bed, laughing. "It’s just a saying."
"I know," Lucy teased, smiling. "I was kidding."
"Mhm," Ona said, taking another bite. Then, with a cheeky grin, she added, "But no, it’s not better than that… Some sí. With you, no."
Lucy grimaced, half-joking, half-genuinely uneasy at the mention of Ona’s past experiences.
Ona noticed, laughed, and set her food aside. She leaned in, covering the top half of Lucy’s face with her hand, before kissing her. "We make good sex," Ona said in her heavily accented English, pulling back with a satisfied smile.
Lucy didn’t want to correct her, but Ona had asked her to tell her if she was saying things wrong. So Lucy tried to gently correct her, "Have." She pressed another kiss to Ona’s lips. "It’s ‘have sex,’ not ‘make sex.’"
"¿Qué?" Ona tilted her head.
"It’s ‘have,’ not ‘make,’" Lucy explained, her tone playful. "You said you wanted me to help improve your English, remember?"
"ghave? No," Ona shook her head stubbornly. "Make."
"It’s definitely ‘have,’ trust me," Lucy insisted, her grin growing.
Ona looked skeptical until, after a moment, realization hit. "Ohhh, no, no, I know, I know!"
Lucy chuckled, waiting for her to explain.
"Ugh, I can’t remember... Wait," Ona said, snapping her fingers. "Make… it’s in that one song!"
Lucy looked even more confused. "What song?"
Ona hummed for a moment, searching her memory before softly singing, "‘You’re the one that I desire... ahh!’" She laughed triumphantly. "I know! ‘When we wake up, and then we make love.’"
‘’Ahh,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’well yes, make love or have sex.’’
"ohh," Ona nodded, a twinkle in her eye. "you were right too, it’s ghave sex.. I thought about the other."
Lucy had never known she had a thing for accents.. she thought she didn’t, but surely it wasn’t normal to get this amount of butterflies from someone talking.
Lucy couldn’t hide her grin. There was something about Ona talking, the way her words rolled imperfectly but perfectly into place. It made her heart flutter.
"It’s both different things, though" Ona said quietly, her cheeks pink, pulling Lucy from her thoughts.
Lucy looked at the cute blush that appeared on Ona’s cheeks, ‘’what do you mean?’’ she asked, even though she could guess what Ona meant.
Ona let her head fall against Lucy’s shoulder. "You know what I mean... they both mean a little bit different things."
‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’I know that, but what does it mean for you?’’
"For me?" Ona tilted her head, her brows furrowing.
"Yeah," Lucy said, curious, ‘’what do the two things mean for you?’’
Ona narrowed her eyes at Lucy suspiciously, ‘’you are testing me? or you are curious?’’
Lucy shook her head, ‘’curious, ofcourse babe, I told you, I think your English is good, I’d never make fun of you."
Ona tilted her head and squinted at her.
"Okay, okay," Lucy admitted, holding her hands up, ‘’sometimes I maybe repeat what u say, but that’s only because I find it adorable.’’
"You tease me," Ona pouted.
"I don’t, babe," Lucy said, shaking her head and pulling Ona onto her lap. "Your English is better than my Spanish. I’d be a hypocrite."
"I lived in England for three years," Ona countered, playing with Lucy’s hair, ‘’this is only your second year here.’’
‘’Hmm maybe,’’ Lucy smiled, her hands resting on Ona’s hips, ‘’but can you answer my question now,’’ she pouted, ‘’I’m curious what it means for you.’’
Ona shook her head with a small smile, leaning over to grab her juice from the nightstand.
Lucy looked at her, puzzled. "What, are you shy?"
Ona nodded, sipping her juice and keeping eye contact, her cheeks flushing even more.
"Why?"
Ona thought for a moment before answering softly. "Because only now I know the difference."
"What?" Lucy frowned.
‘’I used to think they were just meaning the same thing, like.. uh… synonyms.. but you made me realize what they sing about in songs..’’ Ona bit her lip, trying to explain. ‘’we,’’ she blushed furiously, as her voice trailed off, ‘’we.. I guess we make love.. most of the times at least.’’
Lucy smiled as it started to make sense.
"It’s not only… lust?" Ona tried to find the words. "Es más que… desire. Not solo del orgasm."
‘’I understand what you mean,’’ Lucy smiled, her hands moving to Ona’s thighs, ‘’its about the connection.. hmm I don’t know if its an actual thing but I would call it - emotional intimacy?’’  
Ona nodded, ‘’sí.’’ She set her juice back on the nightstand.
‘’And do you like that?’’ Lucy chuckled.
Ona giggled, hiding her face in the crook of Lucy’s neck. Ona’s muffled voice came from where her face was hidden. "You already know I do, so why do you ask?"
Lucy smirked, kissing the side of her head. "Because I want to hear you say it."
Ona pulled back slightly, a playful smirk on her lips. "I love it.
A wicked grin pulled at the corners of Lucy’s mouth.
‘’Don’t let it go to your head." Ona said, rolling her eyes with a laugh.
Lucy grinned. "Too late."
Ona shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Truthfully, cocky Lucy was one of her favorite things.
‘’No but seriously,’’ Lucy said, looking at Ona genuinely, ‘’I feel that too, you brought it to words really well actually.’’
Ona smiled at the compliment, ‘’yeah?’’
Lucy nodded earnestly, ‘’mhm.’’
Ona reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the ink on Lucy’s wrist. The gentle motion sent a tingle through Lucy’s skin, and her breath hitched when Ona’s thumb lingered over the curve of the design. “I love you,” Ona murmured, her voice soft as if she were sharing a secret.
Lucy smiled, her heart swelling. “I love you too.”
Ona smiled, leaning in and brushing her lips against Lucy’s in a kiss so soft it felt like a whisper.
Lucy’s hand instinctively cupped Ona’s cheek, keeping her close.
When she pulled back, Ona’s gaze lingered, “this would be a moment like that.”
“Like what?” Lucy asked breathlessly, her voice catching as Ona’s lips ghosted over her own again, teasing and tantalizing.
‘’That we would make love,’’ Ona said, keeping eye contact.
Lucy’s heart hammered in her chest, a shiver trailing down her spine. This girl was going to be the death of her someday, and honestly, she wouldn’t want it any other way.
"Are you going to keep talking about it," Lucy began, her voice just a little breathless, "or are you going to show me?"
The words sounded bolder in her head, but as they left her lips, they carried a nervous tremor that made Ona smile knowingly.
Ona might be shy sometimes, but in moments like this, she knew she had Lucy wrapped around her finger - and she enjoyed every second of it.
...
[the song that Ona quoted was 'Best part' - H.E.R. ]
the song below is the title
108 notes · View notes
curlsblade · 2 days ago
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The smell of roasted chicken filled the Curtis kitchen as Mrs. Curtis stirred a pot of gravy on the stove. Ponyboy sat at the kitchen table, idly flipping through his history book, though he hadn’t read a single word. His thoughts were too scattered. It had been two weeks since the breakup, but the ache in his chest hadn’t dulled.
“Pony,” his mom called over her shoulder. “Is Curly joining us for dinner tonight?”
The question made his stomach drop. He froze, gripping the edge of the book tightly. “Uh…” he started, his voice cracking slightly.
Mrs. Curtis turned to look at him, a curious expression on her face. “What’s the matter?”
Ponyboy’s heart pounded. No one knew about his relationship with Curly. To everyone else, they’d just been unusually close friends. He scrambled for an answer, but the hesitation in his voice gave him away.
“Did something happen between you two?” his mom asked, concern lacing her tone as she walked closer.
Ponyboy swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten. “We’re just… not as close anymore,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes fixed on the table.
Mrs. Curtis frowned, sitting down across from him. “That’s not like you two. You were practically inseparable. Did you fight?”
Ponyboy shook his head. “It’s nothing, Mom. Just… things change.”
She studied him for a long moment, then reached out and placed a hand over his. “Why don’t you call him? See if he wants to come over. Whatever’s going on, I’m sure you can work it out.”
Ponyboy’s chest ached at the thought. He wanted to see Curly so badly it hurt, but he wasn’t sure he could handle the rejection or the awkwardness.
“I don’t think he’ll want to,” he said quietly.
Mrs. Curtis tilted her head, her expression softening. “You don’t know that unless you try, Pony. If you miss him, you should tell him. Life’s too short to let things like this fester.”
Her words were simple, but they hit him hard. Against his better judgment, he nodded, pulling the phone off the wall and dialing Curly’s number with shaky hands.
The line rang twice before Curly’s voice came through, rough and guarded. “Shepard residence.”
Ponyboy’s breath hitched. “Hey, it’s me.”
There was a pause, and Ponyboy swore he could hear Curly’s sharp intake of breath. “Pony?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause, longer this time. “What’s up?” Curly asked, his voice softer than usual.
Ponyboy hesitated, gripping the phone tightly. “My mom wanted to know if you’d come over for dinner,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Curly let out a short laugh, but it didn’t sound amused. “She did, huh?”
“She doesn’t know,” Ponyboy said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Know what?”
Ponyboy closed his eyes, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. “About us. That we… broke up.”
The line went silent for a moment, and then Curly sighed. “I miss you.”
The words hit Ponyboy like a punch to the gut. His grip on the phone loosened, and he had to steady himself. “I miss you too,” he admitted, his voice cracking.
There was a vulnerability in Curly’s tone that Ponyboy wasn’t used to. “I didn’t wanna stop seeing you,” Curly said quietly. “But you made it pretty clear it’s what you wanted.”
Ponyboy blinked back tears, his chest tightening. “It’s not what I wanted,” he whispered. “I just… I was scared.”
Curly was silent on the other end, but Ponyboy could hear the faint sound of his breathing.
“I don’t know how to fix this,” Ponyboy admitted, his voice trembling.
“Maybe we don’t need to fix it all at once,” Curly said softly. “Maybe we just… take it one step at a time.”
Ponyboy’s heart ached at the tenderness in Curly’s voice. He wanted so badly to believe they could figure it out.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Ponyboy said finally, his voice barely audible.
“You won’t,” Curly promised.
“I’ll see you at dinner?” Ponyboy asked, his voice steadier now.
Curly hesitated, then said, “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
Ponyboy hung up the phone, his chest feeling both heavy and light at the same time. When he turned back to his mom, she was smiling knowingly.
“You called him,” she said simply.
Ponyboy nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. He’s coming.”
Mrs. Curtis patted his hand. “Good. Things have a way of working out, Ponyboy. You’ll see.”
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that-one-fangirl69 · 2 months ago
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YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
No Nut November
Part 1 of 2.
Jake Seresin x F Reader/You x Bradley Bradshaw
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Summary: Bradley and Jake decide to partake in No Nut November…without consulting you first. You’re determined to make them cave.
Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! This work contains: adult language, dirty talk, teasing, talks of ass play/anal, oral (f receiving), a little spanking.
🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜
“You wouldn’t last a week,” Jake chuckles as he leans forward over the green velvet pool table to shoot, “I’ve bunked with you for chrissakes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bradley asks, resting his back against the wall.
The way his eyes heat when they flick to Jake’s jean-clad ass makes your stomach flutter as you drop off the round of beers.
There’s…something going on between them, but you never ask. Just like they know you’re hooking up with both of them, but neither ask you about that either.
“It means,” Jake straightens as he replies, “I’ve heard you rub one out. Like, every night.”
The image his words bring to mind nearly makes you drop the tray. Bradley lying there in the dark, hand shoved inside those boxer briefs, biting his lip to stay quiet as he hurriedly jerks off…
Bradley flushes but appears otherwise unbothered he takes the beer you offer. His eyes are on yours while he replies, “I’ve got a high sex drive.”
God, does he ever. Not once in the countless nights you’ve spent with him over the past year has he only gone one round. Usually, the next morning too, when you wake up to his hard cock pressing against your ass.
“And no self-control apparently,” Jake quips at your back, sliding his fingers down your arm as he reaches around to take one of the bottles.
Bradley rolls his eyes as he takes a long swig, holding the bottle out to you when he’s done. “Will you hold this while I wipe the floor with Bagman, sweetheart?”
“Hangman,” Jake corrects like he does every time.
Bradley winks as he hands you the bottle, knocking his shoulder into Jake’s after he takes the cue from him.
“So,” you say as you turn to watch, leaning back in the spot Bradley vacated before bringing his beer to your lips to steal a drink, “What were you two talking about?”
“No Nut November,” Jake replies, retesting beside you. “A couple of the boys are participating. Bradshaw thinks he could do it no problem.”
“What about you?” You look up day him, “Think you can go a full month without it?”
He licks his lips, taking a drink before meeting your gaze.
“30 days of without your hand,” your nails trail up his arm, goosebumps rising in their wake, “or mine.” He tenses when you lean in to whisper near his ear, “Without my mouth or pussy…”
“Fuck,” he breathes, turning his head. The green in his eyes is hardly visible from his lust-blown pupils. The low din of the bar fades away as he draws closer for a kiss.
“Your turn,” Bradley interrupts, causing you both to jump, “And you say I’m the one with no self-control?”
“Yeah,” Jake pushes off the wall, clearing his throat, “You’re the one who can’t wait to jerk off until his bunkie is asleep,” he turns to look at you with a haughty look, “and yes. I can go 30 days without.”
Your brow arches at the line he just drew.
Game on.
“Fuck off,” Bradley laughs, as Jake tugs the cue from his hand and lines up his shot. “Well instead of going to the bathroom 10 minutes later to do the same thing, you could’ve just said something.”
Jake doesn’t reply, but the way his body stiffens tells you what you need to know.
“That’s what I thought,” Bradley murmurs. His smirk turns to a frown when he takes his beer back that’s now only half full.
Penny catches your eye and back behind the bar you go.
🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜🚫🥜
Even though you don’t hear the rest of the conversation, they both leave shortly after with a bullshit excuse about an early morning hop.
Like that’s ever stopped either of them before.
A few days go by with radio silence. Which is unusual despite the casual situationship you’re in with them both. At least you keep telling yourself it’s casual.
Both Jake and Bradley have made it abundantly clear that they want more from you, but you keep using the excuse that you’re not looking for anything serious right now.
But the truth is, you can’t choose between them.
And how could you? Bradley’s charming, funny, and easy-going nature puts you at ease. His cool confidence carries into the bedroom too, the way he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from your body with his dirty words, his talented tongue, his big hands, and bigger cock…
Then there’s Jake. Sure, he’s a cocky asshole, but that’s the thing you lov-like most about him. The way he teases, overstimulates, pushes your body to the limits, and makes you beg is addicting in itself. But in the quiet after, his well hidden sweet, vulnerable side is revealed with murmured praises and sweet kisses to your trembling skin as he wraps his body around yours.
You don’t reach out either and a full week goes by before you see either of them again.
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“Hey sweetheart,” the sound of Bradley’s voice from behind makes your heart flutter.
“Hey,” you turn, feigning nonchalance as you wipe down the bar, “Long time no see.”
I’ve missed you.
“Yeah,” he sighs, sitting on one of the stools, “it’s been crazy at work.”
“Oh,” you fill a glass with what’s on tap and set it down in front of him, “figured you were avoiding me.”
“Now why would I be avoiding you?” He smiles before he brings the bottle to his lips, eyes twinkling.
“You know why,” you lean over the bar, giving him a nice view of your pushed-up breasts down your shirt as you clean the wood in front of him, “You agreed to No Nut November, didn’t you?”
He’s licking the foam from his mustache, eyes locked on your chest when you straighten, “Huh?”
“You and Jake are doing No Nut November, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he snaps out of it, giving you a sheepish look, “not the best idea in hindsight.”
“Not really,” you agree, brushing your fingers over his, “I’ve been lonely without you, Roo.”
He exhales shakily at that, giving you a heated look at the name you call him only in bed.
“And it’s only…” you look at the calendar, “November 10th.”
“I know,” he looks pained, “I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart, I swear.”
“Yeah, for a whole 30 seconds,” you say sarcastically, “can’t wait.”
“Really?” He deadpans, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing, “When have I ever gotten off before you did? The first time doesn’t count.”
That does make you laugh. He’d chased you for months and was excited, a little too excited the first time you finally let him in your pants. But he’d dropped to his knees after and definitely made up for being quick on the draw.
Just the thought of him looking up at you between your thighs with those honey-brown eyes nearly makes you whimper.
“You’re right,” you smile, “other than the first time, you’ve never gotten off before me.”
He smirks as he brings the glass up to his lips again.
“I suppose it’s not like I can’t get myself off either,” you sigh again, “it’s just not the same though. My fingers don’t fill me up the way you do.”
“Fuck sweetheart,” he sputters, “you can’t just say things like that.”
“But it’s true,” you shrug before leaning in to whisper, relishing in the way he tenses, “I ordered that bigger plug we talked about. It came in the mail yesterday.”
“Oh yeah?” He croaks, tilting his head to ghost his lips over your jaw.
He’s been obsessed with your ass since he first saw you. You brought up trying anal after he played with your ass during doggy and it’s something the two of you have been working towards.
“Yeah,” you sigh, “I wanted to try it out with you, but I don’t think I can wait that long. I need you, Roo. My fingers, toys…nothing compares to the way your cock feels.”
“Jesus,” he breathes, rising suddenly, “I-I gotta go.”
Your eyes drop and your mouth waters when he reaches for his wallet; his cock is straining against the tight denim.
“I’m sorry,” he grimaces as he throws a 20 on the bar before backing away, “I’ll call you, I promise.”
“Okay,” you shrug as if you couldn’t care less, but your heart races.
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Jake shows up 2 nights later and you barely spare him a glance.
This whole thing is his fault, after all.
He finds you doing inventory in the storage room when there’s a lull in service.
“You mad at me?” He asks, moving your hair aside to kiss the weak spot below your ear.
“No,” you try to keep your voice steady, “I love not hearing from or seeing you for over a week.”
Shit.
You cringe, kicking yourself for letting him see you vulnerable.
He pauses, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy with work.”
“Yeah,” you murmur, bending over suddenly to check the bottles of liquor on the lowest shelf, “Me too.”
The new position pushes your ass into Jake’s crotch and his hands instinctively reach for your hips.
“What are you doin’ honey?” He grits out, pulling you back to feel every hard inch of him, “‘sides playing with fire?”
His Texas twang comes out when he’s turned on but you suppress the shiver it brings.
“Inventory,” you reply, straightening to write the number down.
“I miss you,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat, “and I don’t mean just this,” he finds the sweet spot on your neck again. “But I can’t seem to keep my hands,” his fingers dig into your hips as he ruts against your ass, “or my cock to myself when you’re around.”
“So don’t,” you murmur, turning your head to brush your lips over his, “Please Jake?”
I miss you too.
“I…can’t,” he sighs regretfully, squeezing your hips once more before taking a step back, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“Let me guess, you’ll make it up to me when November’s over?” Your eyes narrow as you face him, crossing your arms.
He cringes. “Well…yeah.”
You sigh. “Not sure if I’ll even need you anymore, I’m getting pretty used to my vibrator.”
He backs you up against the shelving and cages you in with his arms. “Does your toy fill you up the way I can?” He emphasizes his question with a roll of his hips. “Does it make you cum over and over until you’re trembling and tears fill your pretty eyes? Do you have to beg? Say ‘please’ for it to stop?”
“No,” your answer is soft and breathy. His eyes dip to your lips as you lean in, “but it doesn’t neglect me for a month over a stupid competition either.”
You duck under his arm and try not to laugh at his heavy sigh as you walk away.
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Another week goes by. Bradley calls once and they each text randomly but keep things PG, not taking the bait when you send suggestive ones back either. Or send dirty pictures. Jake just sent you a 🖕🏻 in response to the picture of your hand down the front of your panties and Bradley left you on read when you sent him a photo of your lace-clad bottom, holding the new plug.
No Nut November is more than halfway over but you’re completely over it.
While the night before Thanksgiving is one of the busiest of the year, you took off to finish preparing for the holiday. You’re hosting the Daggers who aren’t going home or don’t have anyone to go home to.
Everything is good to go a little after 9. With a sigh, you begin to pull the apron over your head but pause with an idea.
Wearing nothing but the apron, you take a picture of your reflection; nipples just visible and your hand running up your inner thigh.
You: Everything’s ready for tomorrow. Wanna come over for a taste test?
Next, you turn around, capturing your bare ass and an innocent look.
You: Too bad the turkey is the only thing getting stuffed tonight.
With a sigh you hop in the shower, not realizing you sent the pictures to them both.
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There’s a knock at the front door as you flick off the water.
“Just a second!” You call, wrapping your towel around you tightly.
“It’s Jake,” he calls back, muffled.
“Come in,” you reply. He knows where the spare is, but still knocks out of respect. “I’m just getting out of the shower.”
“What’s up?” You ask as you come out of the bathroom, the pictures already forgotten.
Jake’s leaning against the wall across, waiting.
“I’m here for that taste test,” he hungrily looks over your bare legs as he pushes off the wall.
“What about the bet?” Your breath catches as he weaves his hands into your hair.
“It’s still on,” he answers before capturing your lips in a dizzying kiss.
“But…” you start when he pulls off your lips to find your neck instead, “What are-“
“I’ll take a cold shower after,” he murmurs against the sensitive skin, making you shiver. “I can’t spend another night without yo-making you feel good.”
Your heart stutters at his Freudian slip.
“Okay,” you whisper, leaning back in. Your legs wrap around his waist when he grabs your bare ass and lifts, carrying you into your room before laying you down on the bed, your phone digging into your back.
He rips the towel open as you reach for the phone, tossing it aside without a glance…or noticing that you hit the call button.
“Oh Jake,” you moan loudly, drowning out the sound of Bradley picking up when he doesn’t hesitate to devour you like the starved man he is. Your hands find his hair as he tongues your cunt and tug when he hones in on your clit.
“I’ve missed this sweet pussy,” he sounds as wrecked as you feel as he brings his hand up, pushing two fingers inside you, his hips slowly rutting against the bed, “dreamed about it every fucking night and woke up hard and wanting you every morning.”
“Y-oh,” a needy whine escapes as he curls his fingers against your g-spot, “you poor thing.”
He pulls his fingers out to slap your clit, making you gasp, clenching around nothing. “Don’t be a brat.”
“You could’ve had me,” your fingers tighten in his hair before pulling him back in, “this was your idea.”
Your eyes fall closed and he groans when he puts his mouth on you again. “Stupid fuckin’ idea.”
“Uh-huh,” you agree, panting. “You’re never doing it again. I won’t allow it.”
“What about Roo?”
Your eyes fly open to see him smirking. “W-what about him?”
“Is he allowed to do it again?” He licks a long, slow stripe through your arousal as he waits for your answer.
You swallow thickly, before slowly shaking your head. “Nope.”
He arches his brow but doesn’t reply, instead doubling his efforts. You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when his tongue slides up to your clit, circling while he pushes his fingers back inside you.
“Yeah,” you whine, tugging his hair and grinding against his face, “that’s-that’s good. Just like that, Jake. Keep going, I’m close.”
Jake just moans as you use him. His hips rutting harder but his mouth and fingers keep the same, sweet rhythm until you’re teetering on the edge of release.
But then he gently sucks your clit into his mouth and that’s all it takes to push you over. Your hands pull his hair as your back arches, legs wrapping around his head as you ride out the waves of pleasure.
A low, guttural groan is ripped from his throat as you writhe against him, the sight, the taste and the sounds of your release proving to be too much.
“Fuck,” he pants, resting his head on your trembling thigh with a grimace, “I just lost.”
“You lo-what?” The ability to think straight left when the first brush of his tongue.
“I just came in my fuckin’ pants,” he sighs, his arms shaking as he lifts himself to his knees. Your eyes drop to the wet spot staining his jeans, “I lost.”
A breathy laugh escapes as your toes run over his still semi-hard cock, “Sorry?”
“No you’re not,” he sighs, his eyes darkening, “but you will be.”
The air is pushed from your lungs as he flips you onto your stomach, slapping your ass so hard tears spring to your eyes.
“Hey!” You scrabble to get away from the assault but his hand between your shoulders pushes you back down, “It’s not my fault! I didn’t even touch you!”
“You didn’t,” he agrees, slapping the other ass cheek equally as hard, “but you did tease me at the bar, and send me dirty pictures and-“
“I won’t tell Roo if you won’t!” You rush out when his hand leaves your ass presumably to spank you again.
“It’s a little late for that.”
Both of your heads whip toward your bedroom door where Bradley’s standing, clad in that gaudy Hawaiian print he wears so well, his erection obvious against the confines of the tight-as-sin jeans.
He also knows where your spare is.
His eyes rake over your naked body, smirking as he holds his phone up for the both of you to see. The color leaves your face as you see your name reflected on the screen.
He’s been listening the whole time.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed part 1! Part 2 should be along in the next few days. Spoiler: the turkey is NOT the only thing getting stuffed 😉
Tagging a few I think may be interested:
@callsigns-haze
@writtingrose
@blindedbythelightt
@phoenix-rising-starbird-one
@dizzybee03
@shanimallina87
@lexixstewart
@hookslove1592
@jessicab1991
@livzblog
@carolina-on-my-mind03
@racerchix21
@that-one-fangirl69
@mrsbradshaw-seresin01
@sydneejean
@xoxabs88xox
@midnightmagpiemama
@its-the-pilot
@kmc1989
@psuedochakra
@fandomology101
@kneelforloki
@djs8891
@mavrellover91
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@seitmai
@emerald-jade1
@alwayshave-faith
@thespillingvoid
@glenpowellluver
@lunatygerqueen
@bigstrongpowellheart
328 notes · View notes
colonelarr0w · 10 months ago
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“As I’ve already stated,” Nanami pauses to sip at the coffee in his hand, “I’ve no interest in speaking to her.” 
Annoyed, Gojo leans back in his seat, casting a glance to the Instagram post that he had shown Nanami — the girl in it was attractive, but somehow it still wasn’t the blonde’s type. 
“Hmm, maybe you’re just not into brunettes,” Gojo says dismissively, scrolling through the woman’s Instagram before stowing his phone away into his pocket. 
Nanami bites back the chuckle in his throat, masking it by taking another sip of his now lukewarm coffee. A shame that Gojo kept interrupting him just as he wanted to enjoy his break.  
“I’m not into anyone,” Nanami finally says, setting down his cup — though he is quite frustrated considering that the coffee had been purchased by someone else for him.  
“Oh? What, have some secret girlfriend I don’t know about?” Gojo teases, already laughing at his own joke. Nanami shoots him a pointed glare, subconsciously running a finger over the smooth metal band adorning his left ring finger.  
“I don’t see how—“ 
Nanami’s phone buzzes on the table, its screen displaying your image. It’s one of Nanami’s favorite photos of you, one that he had taken himself during one of your monthly date nights.  
Gojo’s eyes flicker down to the flashing screen, his eyebrows raising and his eyes widening in absolute shock. “Who—?” 
Nanami is quick to answer the call, pressing the phone against his ear and doing very little to hide the smile that curls his lips upward. “Hi love.” 
Gojo’s jaw goes completely slack. It’s an expression that would make anyone laugh — Nanami is honestly shocked at how well he was able to keep his straightforward façade.  
“Yes, I should be home soon. I did not forget,” Nanami’s tone is reassuring, one that Gojo had never heard in the stoic man’s voice before. It’s heartwarming, not that he would ever admit it out loud.  
“I love you too, bye now.” 
The minute that Nanami hangs up, Gojo is practically screaming. Heads turn, and in a fit of both frustration and embarrassment, Nanami attempts to diffuse the situation. 
“You have a girlfriend?!” 
“Wife, actually.” 
“Are you—?!” 
11K notes · View notes
fushitoru · 4 months ago
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rainy days and brownies
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pairing ⸺ college/modern!au: bf!gojo x reader
summary ⸺ you wake up for some soft moments with your boyfriend that involves brownies (turned freaky)
warnings ⸺ smut, tooth rotting fluff, some mild angst?, gojo unfortunately mentions skibidi toilet, I think I made gojo gen z here, boob worship, brownies and baking, established relationship, oral (f!receiving), gojo eats pussy like a champ, NOT EDITED, might be incoherent to everyone except me, product of a forceful effort to escape writer’s block, rainy mornings <3, lots of intimacy, art by 3-aem, probably in the same universe as this
general masterlist
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Rainy mornings with Satoru means baking.
It’s a ritual the both of you have fallen into. On a day like this, where the air smells like rain, you blearily wake up from your nap to smell the warm distinct aroma of overly sweet brownies.
The slutty brownies were Satoru’s masterpiece. Even if he did overdo the sugar, you can’t admit that your stomach was growling as you rubbed your bleary eyes and frowned while raking a hand through your head. This bed head was going to be a bitch to untangle with the hairbrush.
“AND IIIIIIIIIIIII, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUU—“
You jumped, caught off guard by Satoru randomly deciding to pay homage to Whitney Houston. Standing up, you headed towards the living room of you and Satoru’s apartment—-not before you adjusted your tank top so your tits weren’t out and the boy shorts you chose to sleep in properly covered your ass.
“WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUU—-“ You cringed at Satoru’s attempt of a high note, grumpily looking at him use his chocolate covered spatula as a makeshift mic. He was in the kitchen—-shirtless, of course—-now bending over to peek at the state of his brownies in the oven. Deciding the brownies weren’t done yet, he closed the oven door and stood up once more, reaching for his phone to undoubtedly scroll through TikTok. Continuing to hum different variations of the chorus, he swiped at his phone, ignorant to your presence behind him.
You think he’s kind of sweet like this. If it weren’t for him, the both of you would never be in this position. You would always be the cold frigid bitch he saw in freshman orientation and occasionally at parties across campus, and he would be the sweet, friendly guy that all the girls would continue to fall head over heels for.
To be honest, you don’t really see what he sees in you. You’re like a Disney villain, the witch that entraps him in her webs of insecurity and jealousy, but he remains the valiant prince, fighting to get to you. When he finally has you in his arms, he kisses you into believing that you are his princess instead.
It’s obvious in the way he fought for you—memorizing your schedule, rushing across campus just to walk you to class, pleading with you to grab dinner. And each time, you’d brush him off with sharp rejections, finding excuses to keep him at arm’s length.
But when he finally had you, finally cracked all your defenses—he was never going to let you go. You could see as much; the way he proudly walked on campus with you at his side, across the main quad so he could boast that he got you. You were his, and he was fully, undoubtedly yours. At parties, his eyes would always be on you, raking his eyes up and down your figure in your nurse outfit, conjuring up the hundred and thirty four positions he would fuck you so good in, even if there were prettier girls clinging onto his arms asking for a morsel of his attention. Pettily enough, you would just need to sigh and mumble “This party isn’t fun,” to have Satoru whipped, ushering you out of the frat house while those girls glared at the back of your Halloween costume, angry beyond measure that a nobody like you has the campus sweetheart wrapped around your finger.
Loud booms of the Vine gunshot sound effect snaps you back into the present, where Satoru is snickering at some god awful brain rot. You choose to approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist and smothering your face into his muscular back.
“Hi baby,” you mumble.
“Guess which sleepyhead is awake!” He announces to the world and turns around, and your traitorous heart jumps in its chest while looking into his eyes. It’s stupid. You’re both in your PJs on a morning where the rain thuds against the window pane, blurring both the window and all outside life, suspending you both in this moment. His eyes look affectionately down to you, and he plants a wet kiss on your forehead. “How was your nap, baby?”
“It was good.” You watch him turn around again to peek at the oven, and he hums, upper arm flexing as he grabs the heavy bag of flour, dragging it closer to him. “When’d you get up?”
“Around 7.”
You shoot him a bewildered look as you hop onto the counter, a better space to observe your boyfriend. When he realized that you had woken up, he had left his phone open to give you a kiss, reel playing noises. You peek over and almost snort at what is playing.
“Satoru, why are you watching alligators get chased away by a shovel?”
He looks up from the bowl of brownie batter he was now cleaning—-with his tongue, mind you—-and grins boyishly. “Isn't it crazy how hundreds of years of evolution get destroyed by a shovel?”
”Your feed is not normal,” you shake your head, keeping a stony face as you continue to scroll through his TikTok. In fact, it’s hilarious—-the things he got were weirder than one could dream, with toilets producing heads of men taking over whole cities. You’re not sure what that means about your boyfriend, but you accept it as you watch the nonsensical video.
“Wait,” he makes his way over to you, standing in between your legs. “Is that skibidi toilet?”
“What the hell is that.”
“Baby,” he whines. “You don’t know the lore? I don’t know if I can be with you for any longer.”
Your bite back a grin. “And subjecting me to hours of FNAF backstory wasn’t testament to how much I love you?”
Before he could whine back, you noticed he had some leftover chocolate on the side of his mouth and leaned over to lick it. Humming at the taste, you grabbed his hands and took in his brownie coated index and middle finger into your mouth.
He frowns. “Are you trying to seduce me into forgiving you and giving you more brownies?”
You laugh softly and give him a soft smooch on his shoulder. “No, silly. If I ate any more than half, I would have diabetes.”
He grabs the back of your hips and pulls you closer into him, nuzzling his nose against yours. The physical contact rubs at your nerves the right way, firing off that emotional part of you that makes you think loving him is so easy. How lucky you are that he’s chosen to give you his love.
His god-awful alarm blares—same annoying sound he keeps hitting snooze on for his 7ams—and the moment breaks as he reaches for the oven mitts to pull out the brownies. The aroma hits you instantly, making your mouth water. Satoru blows dramatically on the brownies, pouting and mock-yelling, “Hurry up and cool down! My girlfriend wants to eat you.” You can’t help but giggle. Once Satoru finally decides they’re cool enough, he grabs one and offers it to you. “Make way for the choo-choo train!” he snickers, guiding the brownie through imaginary tracks, a shit-eating grin on his face, before plopping it into your mouth.
You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the brownie melts on your tongue, its warmth enveloping your senses. Rich, velvety tones of chocolate overwhelm your mouth, with each bite releasing a symphony of deep, indulgent flavors that linger long after the brownie is fully swallowed. “Wow, this is actually good.”
He pauses, brownie and hand held in mid air. “Why do you sound surprised?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug innocently but stick your tongue out to him regardless.
Popping the brownie in his mouth--but not before sending you a pout---he brushes his hands together to remove the brownie crumbs as he makes his way back in between your legs. The way he settles between them makes you all too aware of the heat of his groin encompassing you. He lazily drags his eyes up your figure, but not before settling on your outfit. His eyes then flick down to watch his hands trace the hem of your tank top, and your eyes follow his hands, a little dizzy by the action.
You’re always a bit sensitive in the mornings, and before this day, you and Satoru’s interactions have been limited to a kiss before he runs for his 7am and then doing college work until 3am, where you’re both too tired for anything particularly frisky. So, yea, you are kind of pent up---and judging by the bulge that’s starting to form in Satoru’s sweats, you assume he is too.
You put your elbows on his shoulder blades to give him head scratches from behind and lean towards his jawlines giving small kisses. You can feel him close his eyes, purring silently like a cat, and underneath your hands, his back and shoulder blades tense and relax as you rake your hands over his scalp.
“This new?” He uses his index finger to snap the strap of your tank top against your shoulder, using his mouth to given open mouthed kisses to your collarbone.
“Mhm,” you hum, a little deliriously at that---he’s begun to trail down, mouth working at the swell of your breasts.
He slowly pulls the collar of your tank down, down down down until your breast pops out. His eyes trace the swing urgently and groans. “I missed these, sweet girl.”
You gasp sharply when he puts it in his mouth, tongue swirling around the nipple. Satoru’s always been a boob guy, joking about his hands being your bra to support “those mommy milkers.” Right now, he’s doing just that; groping the hell out of them and giving them kisses, as if they were God’s greatest creation.
As much as you were enjoying your boyfriend’s boob worshipping, you need more. You were throbbing in want of contact on your pussy, and you made sure to relay just that. “Toru, I need more,” you whined.
“God forbid a man appreciate nice boobs.” He rolls his like the sassy man he is and parts with your nipple like lips after a messy and wet make out session. Your breasts are gleaming with his spit, a string connecting your nipple to his lips. He trails his face down your torso, making his way down to his knees until he was facing your crotch.
You whine and clench your thighs together to draw his face closer to the space between your thighs. He looks up at you and coos, giving your inner thigh a kiss. “I can smell you from here, cutie.”
His statement reminds you that you’re not too wet in the mornings. As soon as you wake up, some of your morning sessions with Satoru require the aid of lube to ensure no pain. Irritation flares at you at the thought that you might need to leave your position to grab some l—-
Oh.
“What the hell. I thought you wet your pants,” Satoru giggles. The finger running through your folds glides messily, as you both marvel to how wet you are. You’re also on another plane; you haven’t felt his touch for weeks, and the feeling overwhelms you as the squelches your pussy makes echo throughout the kitchen.
Satoru gives you a kiss on your neck. “Baby, can I?” You deliriously remember that he’s lightly circling his finger around your entrance and when you finally give him the okay, he pushes in.
Both of you groan at how tight you are. “Satoru,” you moan and proceed to bring him in for a kiss as he pistons in and out of your pussy, curling them just the way you like and making you see colors.
“Pretty, pretty girl,” he groans. “Left my baby so pent up.”
At that, all you can do is nod and whimper in agreement. All that leaves your mouth are gasps of his names and oh my god’s because he’s making you feel so good.
And then, you almost scream as you feel him blowing hot air onto your folds, leaning down to give teasing kitten licks around your clit, but not directly on it. His tongue drags up and down until he finally stops it right next to your clit as if feeling the sensation of your pussy throbbing, echoing your fastened heartbeat skin-to-skin while drooling.
Frustrated, you try to move your hips, but Satoru grabs them to stay in place. He’s so close to the place you want him, but he’s stationed in one place, spit flowing down as his tongue is still and his dark eyes are staring at you as if enraptured by your struggling.
“Satoru, please lick my clit,” you moan wantonly, begging for him to change his position.
But Satoru Gojo wouldn’t be Satoru Gojo without some teasing. “What was that, baby? Avoid your clit? You got it.”
“No,” you sobbed, grabbing onto his hair and directing his tongue to your clit. This time, he relents, sucking the bud into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, making you see stars.
But soon, his quick and fast lapping turn into lazy licks, and you get frustrated, grinding against air and pussy oozing out wetness as Satoru keeps his tongue outstretched in front of you but not close enough to make contact with your skin, teasing. You hate the feeling of your pussy throbbing and the inner thighs and pussy wet with your slick, lacking the sensation you needed to finally climax. “Oh my god, Satoru, please make me cum.”
“I don’t know baby, you sound pretty commanding to me.” The motherfucker shrugs as if he has nothing to do with your dilemma and starts trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His touches were close to where you needed him most, making you ache for the sensation of his wet laps against you.
“Please, baby,” you beg. “You feel so good, you’re making me feel soo good. I love you so much. Please let me cum.” You’re full on sobbing, hips writhing to get any sensation in.
Satoru, at your display, seems to give in, because he’s coming in once more, giving you a sweet little kiss on your clit. You nearly ascend.
He’s diving in, making a rhythm of dipping his tongue into your entrance and coming back to give sloppily wet laps on your clit. It’s when he groans while his tongue is inside, hot air and vibrations needily simulating your clit, that you come up with a gasp. You roll your hips, Satoru giving you little licks to help you ride out your orgasm.
For how hard you came, you’re bucking your hips frantically, body on a mind of its own as you almost fall off the counter. Satoru has to grip your thighs to prevent that potential injury and rubs soothing circles on the outside of your thigh as you pant, wetness and sweat likely painting the counter beneath you. It’s not until your breath returns back to it’s normal pace that you notice Satoru’s head against your thighs, looking up at you with lovesick eyes.
You’re probably giving him the same look back, you realize, given he made you ascend to heaven and back. He gives an affectionate kiss to your mound, moaning corny shit like “Your pussy tastes sweeter than the brownie.”
And then he stands up, knees popping on the way back up, and despite your fucked out state, you can’t help but giggle. “You old man with the popping knee caps.”
He glares at you playfully, but you know his expression too well to know there’s no real offense in it. “Hey. Rude to say that after I just made you cum your brains out.”
”And you’re about to get the same thing,” you purr, putting a hand on his hard-on. He hisses but looks at you with lust blown eyes as he grabs the back of your thighs to carry you to your shared bedroom.
Yes, rainy days do mean baking with Satoru, but not without intimacy with your even sweeter boyfriend in bed.
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general masterlist
comment or reblog to let me know your thoughts! I appreciate all of them <3
a/n lol this was a bitch to write. this might be a word soup or salad or whatever for all readers and that’s ok! I’ve written this primarily at 1am so…
eugh ok im going back to writing ch5 of bridgerton!gojo and fixing the em dashes in this post when i wake up LOL
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sonarspace · 16 days ago
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✮ content. fem!reader. suggestive.
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thinking about choso in glasses—how he wouldn’t want to admit he needed them at first, brushing it off like it was nothing.
he’d squint at his phone from odd angles, hold books too close to his face, and you’d catch him frowning at street signs like they personally offended him.
“you’re blind as hell,” you teased one evening, catching him leaning dangerously close to the stove to read the temperature.
“i’m fine,” he muttered, poking at the pot, clearly pretending he hadn’t just been caught.
“sure,” you drawled, arms crossed as you watched him miss the timer by a solid inch.
“okay—maybe i’m fine but not perfect,” he added begrudgingly, finally straightening, eyes flicking to yours in an unconvincing attempt to look normal.
“that’s what glasses are for.”
“no.”
“yes.”
he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, already knowing this was a losing battle.
you dragged him to an eye appointment the next week.
he sulked the whole way, hands stuffed in his pockets, hating every second of the experience like the optometrist was about to sentence him to prison.
when the doctor asked him to read the chart, you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.
“third row,” the doctor said, patient and polite.
choso squinted hard. “uh… b… d… e?”
“that’s an r,” you whispered, snickering.
he shot you a glare, cheeks faintly pink.
“looks like you’re a little overdue,” the doctor smiled kindly, scribbling down his prescription.
“great,” choso grumbled, clearly done with the entire process.
you thought he’d come around after the appointment, but when his glasses arrived a week later, he just… didn’t wear them.
you didn’t even realize he had them until one evening you came home early and found him sitting at the dining table, head bent low, glasses perched perfectly on his nose as he scribbled something down in a notebook.
you froze in the doorway, watching him for a moment.
his hair was down, falling over his shoulders, and he pushed the glasses up absently with the back of his hand, completely unaware of your presence.
your stomach did a flip.
“you look good,” you said finally, and he jolted, eyes snapping up to meet yours.
“fuck—when’d you get home?” he asked, visibly flustered, shoving the glasses off his face like they’d betrayed him.
you raised an eyebrow. “since when do you wear those?”
he fiddled with the frame, not quite meeting your gaze. “just got ‘em… forgot to tell you.”
liar.
you stepped closer, tilting your head as you slid into his lap, straddling him.
“forgot? or were you embarrassed?”
“both,” he admitted, gripping your thighs to keep you balanced.
your fingers traced the edge of his glasses, sliding them back onto his nose.
“keep them on,” you murmured, pressing your lips to his.
he kissed you back immediately, hands tightening on your waist as you ground down against him, feeling the hard press of his cock through his sweats.
“they make you look hot,” you whispered against his mouth, tugging at the hem of his shirt, wanting him closer.
he groaned softly, leaning into your touch, his glasses fogging slightly as his hands slipped beneath your shirt, rough palms dragging over your skin.
you kissed him deeper, nipping at his bottom lip as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you to rock against him slowly, the friction sparking heat between your legs.
“fuck,” he muttered, teeth grazing your jaw as you tugged his hair, pulling his head back just enough to trail kisses down his neck.
“see?” you teased, voice breathy as you kissed along his collarbone. “glasses aren’t so bad.”
“depends how often you’re gonna jump me when i wear them,” he grunted, breath hitching as your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his sweats, finding him already hard.
“often,” you smirked, stroking him slowly, feeling the way his hips bucked into your touch.
he groaned, head tipping back against the chair as your mouth found his again, the slow drag of your hand driving him to the edge.
the glasses stayed on the whole time.
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senascoop · 21 days ago
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ꣀ꣒ ASKING ENHYPEN — HOW MANY KIDS THEY WANT? . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎
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pairing, enhypen × afab reader . . . genre, scenario(s), fluff, reactions . . . word count, 190-240 each . . . [LIBRARY]
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. , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !
“Hee,” you called quietly, sipping on your hot chocolate while the warmth permeated the serene void between you. You leaned against the armrest and kept watching Heeseung as he scrolled through social media to the sound of his almost inaudible humming amidst the stillness of the room. “You never told me how many kids you want,” you said as if you really were trying to find out.
Heeseung paused for a moment before a slow smile spread over his face, his eyes wide and animated as he put his phone down. It was clear that he had been waiting for this question. “Three. Definitely,” he said, nodding with the kind of certainty one might expect after years of pondering. You arched your brow, trying not to laugh. “But then what's it going to be like when you have three mini Heeseungs running wild? A nightmare,” you stated, looking at him impassively.
His eyes widened, and he shot you a mock parody glare that could only be described as mild offense. “What did you just say?” He said, leaning in closer and speaking as though utterly astonished. You just couldn't help it anymore: a laugh escaped you in the form of a chesty giggle, and you leaned back, confiding in your hot chocolate for salvation. “I'm just kidding!” you squeaked through the giggles.
. , PARK JONGSEONG ☁︎ 박종성 !
“Baby, how many kids do you want?” you asked, slipping your arms around Jay’s waist from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as he stirred the steaming pot of noodles on the stove. “Did my cooking skills impress you that much?” he teased, glancing at you with a smirk. His free hand reached down to pat yours, resting comfortably on his stomach.
You laughed softly. “Maybe,” you admitted, your voice warm with affection. “But I’m serious. How many kids do you want?” Jay paused, the sound of bubbling noodles filling the momentary silence. His gaze grew thoughtful as he tilted his head slightly. “Two,” he said confidently, his tone steady. “It’d be nice to have one of each—a boy and a girl. Balance, you know?”
You grinned, nuzzling closer. “What if they’re both boys? Or both girls?” you pressed, curious to hear his answer. Jay hummed, as if mulling it over, before turning off the stove and setting the spoon down. He spun around in your arms to face you, his expression playful yet soft. “Honestly?” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “As long as they’re healthy, I couldn’t care less. But if they’re both boys…” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Double trouble.”
You giggled, swatting his chest lightly. “And if they’re both girls?” He grinned, pulling you closer. “Guess I’ll just be outnumbered, won’t I?”
. , SIM JAEYUN ☁︎ 심재윤 !
“How many kids do you want?” you asked, casually breaking the silence while the two of you sat tangled on the couch, the light of the television casting shadows. His gaze dropped unstably from the screen to you, amusement winking in constricted lines across his brow of confusion. “We already have one: Layla,” he declared, pointing to the dog stretched across his lap, her head comfortably laid on his thigh.
Rolling your eyes, you let out a huff. “Jake. I meant a human baby,” you explained, resting your chin on his shoulder to gauge his expression. He hesitated in thought, his fingers mindlessly playing with Layla's ear. “One is enough,” he said offhandedly between mouthfuls of popcorn, as though deciding the fate of your entire future after that bite.
For a moment, you grinned in mock disbelief. “One? Just like that? What if I want two?” He just turned to you, slipping into a devilish smile. “One is a smart number. Two? Think of the double the mess and double the drama. One? We can keep ‘em outnumbered,” he explained in a teasing tone, though his eyes sparkled with affection.
. , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !
“Hey Hoon,” you said rather casually, tracing invisible patterns on the couch while leaning against him. “In the future when we have kids...would you want a boy or a girl?”
Sunghoon felt his face flush immediately; it was as if he had not expected you to ask the question. He nervously cleared his throat and shifted a little. “Is this a test?” he asked in a higher-than-usual voice. You could see the moment of hesitation that was thinking there could be something to it-a faint worry on the face of being caught in trickery, because he knew you would ask many innocent questions previously that often spiraled into an argument.
You shook your head, smiling and trying to play it light. “Don't worry, I'm just curious.” He paused for a second, biting his lip, returned his gaze to you, carefully considering his answer. “A girl...?” he murmured, a slight tremble in his voice. There was something very sweet about him being shy; you liked it. “A girl, huh? Well, I like that. Sometimes I think I'd like to ask you a real question: how many kids do you want?”
This caught Sunghoon off guard again because of your sudden shift; he blinked at this. He took a second, his face still a little flushed as he whispered slowly, “Umm... probably... one...?” you blinked, trying not to laugh at how serious he was about it. “Just one? You aren't even considering the option of having a second or a third in the future?” He shrugged, his expression softening as he leaned closer. “One should suffice for me, especially if it is a girl."
. , KIM SUNOO ☁︎ 김수누 !
“Babe...” you started, your voice soft with a hint of nervousness as you gazed at Sunoo, who was casually sipping his water. You felt a flutter in your chest, wondering how he'd respond. “How many kids do you want in the future?” Sunoo didn’t even hesitate. His eyes twinkled as he smiled at you, the corners of his lips lifting in that signature grin that always made your heart skip. With a playful sparkle in his eyes, he held up three fingers, still holding his bottle of water, clearly not bothered by the question at all.
You raised an eyebrow, amused by how easily he had the answer ready. “Three?” you repeated, trying to hide your smile. It was clear he’d thought about this a lot, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he was embracing the idea of the future with you. “Yep, three,” he confirmed, his grin widening as he swallowed the water. He set the bottle down and nudged your shoulder, leaning in closer. “You know, one for you, one for me, and one for us. Perfect team.”
Your heart melted at his words, and you leaned into him, feeling a warmth spread through you. Sunoo was everything you could ever want, and the thought of a future with him felt like a dream come true.
. , YANG JUNGWON ☁︎ 양정원 !
Jungwon wasn’t surprised by your random question—it was just another one of those things you did. As you straddled his lap on the couch, your fingers brushing through his hair, you asked casually, “How many kids do you want?” He paused, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile before planting a quick peck on your lips. “One,” he muttered against your mouth, as if it was the most natural answer.
You blinked, taken aback. “That’s it?” you asked, genuinely curious. You expected something a little more ambitious, but there he was, casually dropping his answer like it was no big deal. Jungwon stifled a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Why?” he asked, genuinely curious at your reaction. You puffed out your cheeks in mock frustration. “Why not more? I mean, we’re both working, we can afford it,” you reasoned, trying to make your case.
He nodded, a soft smile still playing at the corners of his lips. “True,” he agreed. “But... the living costs, you know?” You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could get the words out, he pulled you closer, his hands gently resting on your hips. “One is still enough, sweetie,” he whispered, his tone light but affectionate. The sincerity in his eyes melted your protest away. “Fine,” you muttered, resting your forehead against his. “I guess one sounds perfect with you.”
. , NISHIMURA RIKI ☁︎ 리키 !
“Riki, how many kids do you want to have?” you asked casually, mushing against his chest, your arms lazily around his neck in your usual cuddle contentment. His hands are frozen. Random shapes traced on your back now are interrupted mid-motion. Before you could think, he switched positions: he flipped you onto your back and pinned you beneath him in one smooth shift.
“What are you doing?” you squeaked, heart thumping as his dark eyes watched yours. That was when he came closer, softly brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with a teasing smirk that left your stomach feeling some weird emotion. “We just became adults and you are already talking about babies?” he tormented in low teasing tones, the corners of his mouth twitching to stop a laughter. “You're bold, you know that.”
You opened and moved to argue, but he lowered his mouth and pressed a soft, deliberate kiss against your lips. Not to shut you up—this was the kind of kiss that turned your thoughts into mush and spread bright warmth across your cheeks. He pulled away just enough to talk, lips pressed close to yours, and whispered, “Why have kids when we can have fun?”
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sunrizef1 · 9 months ago
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Girl back home
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader
Warnings: cursing (I think)
Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this
Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)
Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)
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“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.
If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.
“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.
Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”
Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”
“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”
Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.
In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.
You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.
You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.
When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.
Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.
But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.
Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.
“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.
“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.
Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”
Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”
Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”
Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”
Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.
Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.
“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.
“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.
“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.
Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”
Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”
“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.
“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”
Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”
“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.
“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”
The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.
“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.
You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.
“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.
Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”
You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”
“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.
Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”
You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.
“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.
“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”
“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah?” Logan grins.
You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”
Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”
You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”
The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.
His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.
“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.
“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.
You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”
Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”
“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.
“This late?”
You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”
Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”
You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.
“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.
“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.
By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.
You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.
“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.
You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”
Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”
You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.
You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.
Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.
You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.
“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.
He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”
You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.
He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”
“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.
He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”
You just laugh joyously.
A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.
You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.
You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.
You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.
He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.
Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.
Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.
You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.
“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.
“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.
You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”
He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”
He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”
You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.
You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”
Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.
You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.
"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.
"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.
"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.
You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.
Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.
“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.
You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”
Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”
You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”
Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”
“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.
Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”
“Tell him that.”
You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.
Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”
“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.
Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”
“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”
Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”
Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.
Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.
As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.
You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.
The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.
He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.
“Thank you for being here. I love you.”
You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”
He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.
Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.
He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.
He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.
“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.
“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.
“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.
Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”
Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.
“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”
“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”
Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.
Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.
“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.
“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”
Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.
When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.
Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.
Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.
——————————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago
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Bringing another girl home || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: Rafe pranking his family by saying he’s bringing another girl home 🫢
Warnings: mentions of drugs, fluff? other than that nothing!!
Word count: 877
A/n: hehehe loved this. does anyone have any dad!rafe requests??? haven’t wrote one in a hot min
MASTERLIST
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divider by @h-aewo
“That’s so cruel, Rafe,” you say with a playful edge, delivering a light slap to his shoulder. He bursts into laughter, his wide grin never wavering. “It’ll be funny, you’ve got to admit,” he says, nudging you with a glint of mischief in his eye. You roll your eyes, trying to keep a straight face. “Fine, it would be pretty funny,” you concede, chuckling despite yourself.
Rafe’s plan to prank his family by claiming he’s bringing home a girl—who isn’t you, his girlfriend of four years—sounds completely bonkers. Yet, the thought of how Rafe’s family will react had you intrigued. You lean over to set your glass down, asking, “Are they all home?”
Rafe hums thoughtfully, scrolling through his contacts until he finds Rose’s number. You sit up, facing him as he tries to hide his grin, pressing the call button. After a few rings, Rose answers, “Hello?”
“Hey Rose, what’s up?” Rafe says with a casual tone. “Just got back from picking up Wheezie. Are you guys out on the water yet?” Rose asks. You exchange a nervous glance with Rafe, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re out here. Y/n’s just taking a nap right now,” Rafe replies smoothly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Rose’s tone shifts to one of concern. “She did seem tired today. Have you told her to take it easy with work? I know she’s been working hard for her boss—”
“Yeah, yeah, listen,” Rafe interrupts, “Could you do me a favor and take Y/n’s stuff out of my room?”You slap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter. “What?” Rose’s voice is tinged with confusion. “What do you mean—“
“Well, at least the stuff lying around and the pictures,” Rafe continues, muting himself briefly as he suppresses his laughter. Rose’s confusion turns to frustration. “Rafe, what are you talking about? Take Y/n’s things out of your room and get rid of the pictures—what’s going on?”
You hear rustling in the background and a faint voice that you recognize as Wheezie’s. “What happened?” Wheezie’s voice is concerned. “Your brother is acting very strange right now,” Rose responds, her voice growing more exasperated.
“Why on earth would I do that?” Rose’s tone is incredulous. “I’m bringing a girl over,” Rafe says nonchalantly, and you struggle to keep a straight face. There a brief pause on the other line.
“What girl? I hope this girl is Y/n, your girlfriend, Rafe!” Rose speaks up, her voice now angry. You hear Sarah’s voice join the conversation. “What is going on?”
“Your sisters are here. Tell them what you just told me to do,” Rose says, her frustration evident. You and Rafe exchange worried glances, realizing the prank is escalating.
“Uh, I want all of Y/n’s things out of my room and the pictures as well,” Rafe repeats. The silence on the other end is thick with disbelief. You quickly take Rafe’s phone and mute it, both of you breaking into laughter.
“What the hell, Rafe? Who is this girl? Do I know her? Why are you bringing her home? Are you out of your mind?” Sarah’s barrage of questions makes it hard for you to keep a straight face.
“This has to be a joke, right? Y/n’s right beside you, isn’t she?” Wheezie’s voice is tinged with suspicion.“She’s not, she’s asleep,” Rafe replies. You hear a flurry of voices in the background as Rose, Wheezie, and Sarah talk urgently.
Then Wheezie’s voice rises, “Dad! Come here and tell your son he’s an absolute idiot and loser for cheating on Y/n.” Your eyes widen at the mention of Ward. “What?” His voice is loud and filled with anger as he joins the call.
“Rafe, please tell me your sister is just joking and you’re not about to fuck up your life,” Ward’s stern voice cuts through. You grab the phone again, muting it. “This is going too far, Rafe,” you say, worry creeping into your voice. Rafe snatches the phone back, a mischievous grin on his face.
“What do you mean? It’s just getting started,” he says, unmuting the phone. “No, they’re not, Dad. I’m being serious. Can you guys just do this for me? She’ll be over for dinner too,” Rafe continues, as Rose gasps in the background.
“No way in hell am I letting—” Rose begins, but Ward cuts her off. “Son, you better think long and hard about this because you will not be welcomed home, alright? I don’t know what drugs you are on right now and I couldn’t give two shits about it, but you are not bringing another girl over here other than Y/n, you’re girlfriend, for heaven’s sake! Do you understand?” Ward’s voice is stern and unwavering.
You and Rafe are taken aback slightly by the intensity of the reactions on the other end of the line. Realising the prank might have gone too far, you quickly grab the phone.
“Uh—” you cut Rafe off, your voice steadying as you say, “Guys, he’s just kidding! I’m right here beside him!” The relief is palpable as you hear them all collectively sigh on the other end.
After a few more minutes of the Camerons giving you both a hard time about how the joke was way out of line, you finally hang up the phone. Rafe pulls you close, guiding you to lean against his chest. His arms envelop you in a warm, reassuring hug.
“My family just loves you, don’t they?” he says with a smirk, his voice full of playful sarcasm. You look up at him, laughing softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love from his family. Even with all the chaos, you can’t help but feel good knowing they care so much about you.
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personapeters · 1 month ago
Text
𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬
— a rafe cameron one shot (1 of 2) part one • part two
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✰ you’re at a party with your ‘best friend’, rafe, when things suddenly turn sour, and he’s not afraid to fight for whats his.
rating: sfw — cw: alcohol, physical assault, blood
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if y/n was somehow convinced that the rafe cameron could have simply walked away from a situation as such — she was terribly mistaken. the mild taste of alcohol burning in the back of his throat became overwhelmingly bitter as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, his knuckles aching in sheer anticipation.
his mind raced for a moment as he stood, rage gradually bubbling in his stomach as a burning sensation overtook his skin. they weren’t ‘official’ by any means — he wasn’t even sure if she saw him the way he did her — but in his mind, that truly meant changed nothing; whether she was simply his closest friend or his girlfriend, she was still someone of his — his.
he downed the rest of the weak mixer in his red solo cup before throwing it down onto the already trash cluttered floor. his narrow eyes scanned the crowed of moving bodies surrounding him before they landed on a familiar head of dirty blonde.
“aye — aye, top!” he called out, weaving his way through the living room with minimal care for the people he was shoving before fully approaching his friend. “yo, rafe, you good?” topper questioned with immediate concern, noticing the all-too-familiar look on the older mans face as he placed a hand on his shoulder.
“where’s your man?” rafe asked through gritted teeth, attempting to keep his composure — he knew exactly who y/n refered to, he just needed to find him. “wha- who?” topper replied with a genuine confusion, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “that short fuck you invited, topper,” rafe seethed with mild annoyance, his patience wearing extremely thin as he watched his friend take another swig of his beer, “the blonde — where is he?”
“mmm,” topper hummed in recognition as he pulled his lips from the bottle and took a swallow, “mikey? uh, out back with kelce, last i seen ‘em.” needing nothing more, rafe swiftly stormed off with a clenched jaw, exiting out of the back porch door with a slam while ignoring topper’s questioning calls from behind.
the sandy backyard was almost as populated as the inside, the once pounding music now a muted bass as he furthered himself from house, his head on a swivel as he searched the sea of people. once again, he roughly pushed his way through party-goers, his height playing to his advantage as he peered above their heads, scanning the area. it took all of a minute before he spotted kelce and a few others gathered around a fire, laughing amongst themselves.
he felt a twisting heat build in his core as he neared them, his fists balled tightly as he held them stiff by his sides, knuckles white from the intense pressure. kelce noticed rafe approaching out of the corner of his eye, a bright smile on his face as he prepared to greet his friend that was quickly wiped away when he noticed his hostile demeanor.
“aye, what’s-,” kelce started, but was cut off abruptly as rafe brushed past and violently shoved the lanky blonde beside him to the ground. “yo, what the fuck, rafe?!” kelce yelled, stepping in between the two men hastily, eyes widened as he glanced between them both — once again, rafe simply brushed past him.
“y’think you can just try ‘n force girls to fuck you? keep fuckin’ with her ‘till she puts out?” rafe seethed at a moderate volume, towering over a heaving michael who was attempting to regain the breath that was knocked out of him. rafe used the plural term ‘girls’ loosely as he only really cared for the one girl in particular — he wasn’t afraid to admit that, either.
“what are you talking about, dude?” the man in the sand exclaimed, though rafe knew he was feigning ignorance. “what the hell is going on?!” kelce added, though through everything he was hearing, he began putting the jagged pieces together.
“can’t get pussy without beggin’ for it, right? ah, that’s it,” rafe taunted with a malicious half-grin, one that could send a static chill down one’s spine and make them question what it’s owner was capable of. some would say rafe cameron always had a hint of crazy in his eyes, but now it was prominent and on full display. “c’mon, rafe, just chill,” kelce reasoned, or attempted to, pushing his friend back by his biceps as michael clamored to his feet.
“yo, get the fuck off me!” rafe barked, swiping both of kelce’s arms away with a single motion, his eyes still locked onto his target. “y’like puttin’ your hands on girls, yeah?!” rafe hissed, marching across the sand and pressing his broad chest to michael’s lesser one, his breaths hot and rapid as they fanned across his opponent’s face. a crowd had formed as the altercation became louder and more evident, encouraging chants emitting from the herd of college students surrounding who drunkenly anticipated the unconventional entertainment.
admittedly, rafe liked — no, loved that everyone was watching him make an example out of the unfortunate soul who crossed him. anyone who had an ounce of sense knew never to mess with rafe cameron or his people, especially not his girl — his name was written all over her. yet, seemingly, not everyone got that very important message; though, he knew it would soon be made exceedingly loud and abundantly clear, as it should be.
“dude, i-i don’t know what the fuck you’re talking ab-,” the blonde began to babble but rafe wasn’t in any mood to listen, abruptly interrupting him in his fit of rage by swinging back a heavy fist and letting it crack against mikey’s jaw. the shorter man stumbled backwards, the sand beneath his feet making it harder to regain his balance as he plummeted to the ground. he gripped his chin as a thin stream of warm blood began to pour from his mouth before yelling, “what the fuck, dude?!”
“what—you don’t like that?” rafe mocked with a sickeningly sweet tone, watching with an ice-melting gaze as the man clamored to his feet. “tell me to stop,” rafe snarled, lunging forward and taking another loaded swing, connecting it straight into michael’s ribs, “nah, you like it, don’t you?” he doubled over in pain, letting out a strained groan as he placed a hand over his sore abdomen.
“yo, that’s enough, rafe,” kelce intervened again, stepping in between the two men in an attempt to distinguish the fight. rafe ignored his friend’s plea, roughly brushing shoulders passed him as he advanced once again. “c’mon, tough guy, don’t be a bitch,” he taunted again, “put your hands on somebody who wants ‘em.”
suddenly, a voice from within the large huddle of bystanders was heard, topper emerging from the mass with urgency. “hey, hey! what the fuck is going on?!” he asked frantically, his eyes flickering between rafe and the battered man before him. “why don’t you ask your buddy over there, huh?” rafe hissed, enough anger boiling in his blood to heat the very surface of his skin, his adrenaline at an all-time high.
“i ain’t do nothing, alright?!” michael defended breathlessly, and rafe felt as though his body could have burst from rage. “nothing, huh?” rafe muttered, surprisingly calm as an overwhelming, animalistic urge to tear the man apart limb from limb began to overtake him even further.
“beggin’ to crack girls who don’t want to fuck you is nothing, huh?” rafe projected as though it was an announcement, loud enough for everyone surrounding to hear, “getting your dick in a twist when they turn you down, leavin’ marks on ‘em — that’s nothing? you’re a fuckin’ pussy.”
“alright, you watch your mouth,” michael spat through gritted teeth, striding forward with a pointed finger, stopping it a mere inch away from rafe’s stoic face; rafe found it almost comical. “or what?” rafe rebutted, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his rose tinted lips. the volume of the crowd raised once more as the momentum picked up, the watchers on the edge of their metaphorical seats as they awaited a fight they knew rafe would deliver.
“you guys needa just-just chill out — calm down,” topper coaxed, attempting to play peacemaker, though his efforts were deemed futile when michael suddenly pulled his fist back and pounded it against rafe’s bottom lip, catching him off guard. the pink, supple flesh split instantly, blood trickling over his chin and trailing down his neck, the fabric of his shirt soaking it up and painting itself crimson.
rafe darted forward, virtually unfazed by the newfound gash on his face, grabbing michael by his collar with one hand and striking him in the jaw with the other. the crowd gasped while others cheered, their phones tight in their grasps as they recorded the brawl — this is what they were waiting for. rafe felt multiple pairs of hands on his back, tugging at his shirt as they attempted to pull him off, but rafe could only stop when he wanted to.
he planted another jab into michael’s side, which was quickly reciprocated when a set of knuckles collided with rafe’s torso, causing him to stumble. although michael was noticeably smaller, his brute was still nothing to be undermined, especially when being used against a girl like y/n. considering that only pushed rafe further off the edge — the idea of anyone trying her made him irrevocably livid.
“you’re a coward,” rafe yelled as he swung once again, this time knocking michael off his feet and onto his back with a sand-cushioned thud, “a fucking coward!” he kicked the fallen man in his side with the entirety of his strength, causing him to roll over in agony as he hugged himself. “ain’t even man enough,” he gritted out while kicking him again, “to own up to it,” and again, “wanna touch my girl,” and again, “fuckin’ joke.”
in the near distance, a loud siren was heard followed by the hue of red and blue lights washing over the front of the house, causing the gaggle of bystanders to all flee in various directions. “that’s enough,” topper insisted with a hand yanking rafe back by his shoulder, frankly only concerned for him after digesting the entirety of the situation, “the cops are here — we gotta go.”
rafe ignored his warning, stalking towards the blonde on the ground with an unwavering desire to make his face utterly unrecognizable. moments like these made him wish he could guarantee getting away with murder, completely removing the problem from his island. he crouch down slowly, grabbing michael by his dirtied polo before roughly pulling him upwards, their faces inches apart as he left him with a final message warning:
“don’t come back here again. if you ever — ever even so much as fucking speak to her again, i promise… i will fucking kill you.”
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 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist
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jupiterpilgrim · 2 months ago
Text
Teach 'Em a Lesson: The Bold Guide to Putting Bullies in Their Place
Gaeul x Male Reader
word count: 7.2K
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You're chilling at Gaeul's place with the crew, sprawled on her comfy couch playing Pokemon on your phone. Your friends are getting restless, talking about grabbing some pizza from that fancy joint across town.
"Yo guys, let's roll! I'm fucking starving," one of your friends says, jangling the car keys.
Everyone starts walking towards the door, but there's only room for five, and there are six of you. Well, you are very focused on your game, so without much suffering you accept the mission to be exiled from the pizza run.
But...
Gaeul waves goodbye to them, saying she'll stay behind as well.
"Someone's gotta babysit the nerd," she snickers, jerking her thumb at you.
You barely look up from your game, used to her constant teasing. At 5'5; Gaeul's a tiny thing but she makes up for it with attitude. Her boyish style - baggy jeans, oversized hoodie hiding her small tits - doesn't stop her from being hot as fuck.
Not that you'd ever admit that to her face.
The door slams shut and suddenly it's just you two. The silence feels different now. Gaeul flops down next to you, peering at your screen.
"Seriously? Pokemon? No wonder you can't get any pussy,” she taunts, poking your arm.
"Fuck off, I date plenty," you mutter, trying to focus on your battle.
She lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah right! Name one girl you've fucked."
"None of your fucking business." Your ears burn but you keep your eyes on the screen.
"Ha! Virgin alert!" She's grinning now, enjoying getting under your skin. "Bet you've never even kissed anyone. Too busy jerking it to anime titties."
Your jaw clenches. "I said: fuck off…"
"I don't know how we have friends in common."
"Shut up, Gaeul..."
"Make me, virgin boy!" She snatches your phone, holding it just out of reach. "What're you gonna do about it?"
Something snaps inside you. In one fluid motion, you grab her wrist and pin her against the couch. She squeaks in surprise, eyes going wide. your phone falls onto the couch seat next to you.
"The fuck did you just call me? Say it again!" you growl, pressing her down. Your body covers hers completely.
"I-I... virgin boy?" Her voice wavers but there's a glint in her eye that wasn't there before.
You grip both her wrists now, holding them above her head. "Ha! Wrong answer."
Her breath hitches. You can feel her pulse racing under your fingers. That's when you notice it - the way she's squirming isn't to get away. Her thighs press together, hips shifting restlessly.
"Holy shit," you breathe. "You like this, don't you? The tough girl act is just that - an act."
"N-no!" But her face flushes red and her nipples are hard points visible through her hoodie.
You lean down, lips brushing her ear. "Lying bitch! I can feel how wet you are through your jeans." She whimpers, and that sound goes straight to your cock. "Wanna see how much of a virgin I am?" You grind against her, letting her feel how hard you are.
"What the fuck are you doing?!"
"Just proving that even an annoying brat like you can turn me on too."
"Fuck you, n-nerd…" she whispers, but there's no bite in it. Her pupils are dilated, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"I'm not fucking kidding. Bedroom. Now." You release her wrists but maintain eye contact, daring her to disobey.
For a moment she hesitates, then scrambles up and leads the way to her room.
The second you're through her door, you grab her hoodie and yank it over her head. No bra underneath - her small tits are perfect handfuls topped with hard pink nipples.
"Fucking slut, walking around braless," you growl, pinching one nipple roughly. She cries out, legs trembling. "Bet you were hoping for this, weren't you?"
"No, I... ah!" She gasps as you twist harder.
"Still lying?" You spin her around, bending her over the edge of her bed. "Let's see how wet you really are."
You pull her jeans and cotton boyshorts down to her knees. Her pussy is dripping, juice running down her thighs.
"Look at that," you laugh darkly, running two fingers through her folds. "Soaked just from being manhandled a little. What a pathetic little sub you are."
“I-I'm not pathetic…”
She tries to close her legs but you kick them apart, keeping her spread wide. Your fingers circle her clit, making her moan.
"Please..." she whimpers.
"Please what?" You slide one finger inside her tight hole. "Use your words, slut."
"Please... oh… fuck me..." Her voice is barely a whisper.
You add a second finger, pumping them slowly. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."
"Fuck me!" she practically screams. "Please, I need your cock!"
"That's better." You pull your fingers out and wipe them on her ass. "But first..."
Your hand comes down hard on her right cheek. She yelps but pushes back for more.
"Gonna spank this attitude right out of you."
You alternate cheeks, watching them bounce and jiggle. Each hit makes her pussy drip more, a puddle forming on the floor. Her ass turns a beautiful shade of pink.
"Count them," you order.
SMACK!
"One!" she gasps.
SMACK!
"Two!"
By ten, she's sobbing and rutting against nothing. Her ass is bright red and hot to the touch.
"Good girl," you purr, rubbing the beaten flesh. "Now, on your knees!"
Half nervous and half anxious, she hurriedly gets rid of the pieces of clothing still on her knees, almost tripping in the process.
You take off your shoes and unzip your jeans, taking off your pants along with your underwear, letting your rock-hard cock spring free.
The sight before you makes your cock throb with anticipation - Gaeul, the annoying little brat who's been pushing your buttons for months, completely naked and on her knees in her bedroom. Her petite body trembles slightly as she stares at your massive erection, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and unmistakable lust.
You've finally figured out her game. All those times she went out of her way to irritate you, to get under your skin - it wasn't just random bitchiness. No, this pathetic slut has been desperately trying to get your attention the only way she knew how.
"Like what you see?" you growl, slowly stroking your shaft. "This is what you've been after all along, isn't it?"
Gaeul swallows hard, her small breasts rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Her nipples are rock hard, betraying her arousal despite her attempts to play innocent.
"I... I don't know what you mean..." she stammers, but her eyes remain locked on your cock.
You step closer, close enough that your cockhead brushes against her flushed cheek. She gasps but doesn't pull away.
"Don't play dumb with me, you little tease. All those times you went out of your way to annoy me, to get under my skin... you were just begging to be put in your place, weren't you?"
Your hand shoots out to grab a fistful of her silky black hair, yanking her head back roughly. She yelps in surprise and pain, but you can see her thighs pressing together, trying to relieve the ache between them.
"Look at you, getting wet just from being manhandled again," you taunt, using your free hand to slap your cock against her cheek. "Such a pathetic little slut. Admit it - admit what you really are!"
"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your grip.
You tighten your hold on her hair, making her gasp. "That's not what I want to hear. Tell me the truth - tell me why you've been such an annoying little bitch."
Tears form in the corners of her eyes, but they're not tears of fear or pain.
No.
These are tears of shameful arousal as she finally faces what she really is.
"Because... I-I'm sorry… because I wanted this," she whispers.
"Wanted what? Be specific, whore."
"I wanted you to get angry! To put me in my place!" The words burst from her like a dam breaking. "I wanted you to see what a desperate slut I am! Please... please use me..."
You smirk, satisfied with her confession. "That's better. Now open that bratty mouth of yours - time to put it to better use than talking back to me."
Gaeul parts her lips eagerly as you press your cockhead against them. Her tongue darts out to taste you, making your shaft twitch. But you're not interested in letting her take her time exploring.
Gripping both sides of her head firmly, you thrust forward, forcing your thick cock past her lips. She gags immediately as you hit the back of her throat, but you don't let up.
"Relax that throat, slut," you command. "You wanted my attention? Well, now you've got all of it."
You start fucking her face properly, each thrust going deeper than the last. Tears stream down her cheeks as she struggles to accommodate your size, but her eyes are glazed with unmistakable lust.
"Look at you, choking on cock like you were born for it," you taunt as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold yourself deep, cutting off her air. "Is this what you imagined when you were being an annoying little tease? Getting your throat used like a cheap fleshlight?"
Gaeul can only make gurgling sounds in response, drool running down her chin and coating your shaft. You hold yourself there until her face starts turning red, then pull back to let her gasp for air.
"Please..." she begs hoarsely between coughs. "I need more... need you to fuck my pussy too..."
"Oh, you'll get that tight cunt stuffed soon enough," you promise. "But first, I'm going to make sure you never forget what happens to bratty little sluts who don't know how to ask nicely for cock."
You slam back into her mouth, setting a brutal pace that has her gagging and retching around your shaft. Her throat spasms beautifully with each deep thrust, but she doesn't try to pull away. Instead, she grabs your thighs, trying to take you even deeper.
"Such a natural cocksucker," you grunt, watching your dick disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "All that attitude, and all you really needed was to be throat-fucked into submission."
After thoroughly using her mouth, you finally pull out. Gaeul gasps for air, her face a mess of tears, drool, and smeared makeup. Without giving her time to recover, you grab her arms and throw her onto the bed.
"Ass up, face down," you order. "Show me that needy pussy you've been hiding under those baggy jeans."
She scrambles to obey, getting into position and arching her back to present herself to you. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, her inner thighs glistening with her arousal. You run your cock through her soaked folds, coating it in her juices.
"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," you observe. "Your cunt's practically drooling. Beg for it, slut! Tell me how badly you need this cock."
"Please fuck me!" she cries out, pushing back against your teasing shaft. "I need it so bad... need you to fill me up and use me like the whore I am! I've been such a bad girl, teasing you all this time... please punish my pussy!"
You line up with her entrance and thrust in hard, making her scream. Her cunt is incredibly tight, gripping your cock like a vice as you force your way deeper. Each inch stretches her walls, making her whole body tremble.
"Fuck, you really are a desperate little slut," you grunt, starting to pound her roughly. "Your pussy's practically sucking me in. Is this what you've been dreaming about while playing your little games?"
Gaeul moans uncontrollably, her whole body shaking as you ravage her tight hole. Each brutal thrust makes her small tits bounce and jiggle. You reach down to pinch and twist her nipples, making her clench even tighter around your cock.
"Yes! Yes! Harder!" she begs shamelessly. "Use my slutty pussy! Make me your fucktoy! I've wanted this for so long!"
You increase your pace, slamming into her cervix with each stroke. The wet sounds of your cock plowing her needy cunt fill the room, along with her desperate moans and whimpers. Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, practically gushing around your shaft.
"You're going to cum on my cock like the whore you are," you tell her. "Then I'm going to take that virgin asshole too. Going to claim every hole you've got."
Her pussy spasms at your words.
"My... my ass? But I've never... No… it's too big..."
"That tight little hole belongs to me now," you growl, reaching around to rub her clit roughly as you continue pounding her pussy. "I'm going to stretch it out and fill it with cum. Mark you as my personal fucktoy."
Gaeul's moans rise in pitch, her body tensing up as your fingers work her sensitive clit. Combined with the relentless pounding of her pussy, it's quickly pushing her toward the edge.
"Cum for me, slut. Show me how much you love being used like this."
She screams as her orgasm hits, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock. You fuck her through it mercilessly, prolonging her pleasure until she's sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.
Without pulling out, you gather some of her abundant wetness and press a finger against her virgin asshole. She whimpers as you slowly work it inside, her tight ring of muscle resisting the intrusion.
"Please be gentle..." she begs. "I've never had anything in there..."
"You'll take what I give you," you growl, adding a second finger to stretch her tight hole. "This ass is mine now, just like the rest of you."
You finger-fuck her thoroughly, making sure she's ready for your cock. Her whimpers of discomfort gradually turn to moans of pleasure as her body adjusts to the new sensation. You can feel her pushing back against your fingers, hungry for more.
Finally, you pull out of her pussy and press your cockhead against her stretched asshole. "Deep breath, slut. Here comes your first assfucking."
You push forward slowly but steadily, watching your cock disappear into her virgin hole. Gaeul cries out, clutching the sheets as you stretch her wider than your fingers did. Her whole body trembles as you claim her last untouched hole.
"That's it, take it all," you encourage as you sink deeper. "Such a good little anal slut... taking cock in your virgin ass like you were made for it."
When you're fully buried in her ass, you pause to let her adjust. Her whole body is shaking, caught between pain and pleasure as her tight hole stretches around your thick shaft.
"Move..." she finally whispers, her voice thick with need. "Please... fuck my ass... make me completely yours..."
You start with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. Her tight hole grips your cock beautifully, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each stroke becomes easier as her body accepts the invasion.
"Look at you, taking cock in your virgin ass like a natural," you taunt, watching your shaft disappear into her stretched hole over and over. "You really are just a complete whore, aren't you? Born to take cock in all your holes."
"Yes, sir!" she moans, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "I'm your whore! Your anal slut! Please fuck me harder! Use my ass!"
You grant her wish, picking up the pace until you're properly fucking her ass. The sight of your cock plunging in and out of her stretched hole is incredible. You reach around to play with her dripping pussy, finding her clit swollen and sensitive.
"You're actually getting off on having your ass fucked," you marvel, feeling how wet she still is. "Such a perfect little fucktoy... getting your virgin ass stretched and loving every second of it!"
Gaeul can only moan in response, her body rocking with each thrust. You can feel her getting close to another orgasm, her holes clenching rhythmically around your cock and fingers.
"Cum for me again," you order, rubbing her clit faster. "Cum while I fuck this tight ass. Show me what a complete slut you've become."
Your fingers work her sensitive nub as you pound her ass, and soon she's screaming through another intense orgasm. The way her asshole spasms around your cock pushes you closer to your own climax.
"Where do you want my cum, slut?! Tell me how you want me to mark you as mine."
"In my ass!" she begs desperately. "Please cum deep in my ass! Fill me up... make me yours completely! I want to feel your hot cum inside me!"
You grab her hips with both hands and start fucking her ass with abandon, chasing your release. Her tight hole feels amazing, squeezing and milking your cock perfectly. Each thrust makes her whole body shake, her moans getting louder and more desperate.
"Take it all," you grunt as you finally explode, flooding her ass with hot cum. "Every last fucking drop... marking this tight hole as mine forever..."
You stay buried deep as you empty yourself inside her, making sure she takes every drop of your seed. When you finally pull out, cum immediately starts leaking from her gaping hole, running down her thighs in thick rivulets.
Gaeul collapses onto the bed, thoroughly used and satisfied. Her holes are red and swollen, leaking your cum and her own juices. You give her ass a hard slap, making her jump and moan weakly.
"From now on, you're mine," you tell her firmly. "No more bratty behavior - unless you want another lesson like this one. Understand?"
She looks back at you with glazed eyes, cum still dripping from her well-fucked ass. "Yes, sir... I'll be good, I… fuck… I promise..."
“Too busy catching Pikachus to catch some pussy, huh? What a shitty stereotype…”
"I thoug-"
“Shut up. Answer me: still think I'm a virgin?" you ask with a smirk.
She laughs weakly. "Definitely not. Fuck, I'm not gonna be able to sit right for days.”
"Good." You give her ass one final smack, making her yelp. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before talking shit.”
"Maybe," she grins. "Or maybe I'll just have to keep provoking you."
You grab her hair, pulling her in for a rough kiss. "Careful what you wish for, little slut. I might just have to teach you another lesson." She moans into the kiss. Your lips move down to her neck, where you leave a few bite marks, just so she remembers you when she looks in the mirror later. "The others will be back soon," you remind her. "Better clean yourself up before they see what a whore you really are."
Gaeul struggles to sit up, wincing at the soreness in her ass.
You head back to the living room, leaving her to clean up the mess you made of her. When you settle back on the couch and pick up your phone, the Pokemon game is still running.
A few minutes later, Gaeul emerges, walking down the stairs with a certain distrust in her expression, wearing fresh clothes, but walking with a slight limp. She sits gingerly on the opposite end of the couch, unable to meet your eyes.
"Something wrong?" you ask innocently. "You're usually so talkative."
She squirms uncomfortably. "Shut up..."
"That's not very nice, Gaeul." You give her a warning look. "Do we need another lesson already?"
Gaeul's eyes go wide and she quickly shakes her head. "No! Not now! I-I mean... I'll be good."
"That's what I thought." You turn back to your game with a satisfied smile, knowing you've finally found the perfect way to handle your bratty tomboy bully.
The sound of cars pulling up outside announces the return of your friends. Gaeul quickly tries to fix her messy hair and straighten her clothes, but there's no hiding the fresh bite marks on her neck or the slight tremor in her hands.
"Hey guys, we're back with pizza!" calls out one of your friends as they enter the house. "Hope you two didn't kill each other while we were gone!"
If they only knew.
Your friends pile into the living room, carrying several pizza boxes and drinks. They seem oblivious to the tension in the air or the way Gaeul can barely sit still.
"Everything okay?" one of them asks, noticing Gaeul's unusual quietness. "You seem different."
“I'm fucking fine!”
Gaeul blushes deeply. Your friends look confused but shrug it off, too focused on the food to question further.
As everyone settles in to eat, you catch Gaeul stealing glances at you when she thinks no one is looking. Each time your eyes meet, she quickly looks away, but you can see the mixture of fear and arousal in her expression.
You make sure to sit next to her on the couch, close enough that your thigh presses against hers. She tenses but doesn't move away, especially when you rest your hand on her knee under the pretense of reaching for a slice of pizza.
"So what did you guys do while we were gone?" someone asks between bites.
"Just played some games," you say casually, squeezing Gaeul's thigh. "Taught Gaeul a few new things."
She nearly chokes on her pizza, earning concerned looks from your friends. "Are you okay?" they ask as she coughs.
"Fine," she manages to say. "Just... went down the wrong way."
You smirk, knowing exactly what went down her throat earlier. Your hand slides higher up her thigh, making her squirm.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of pizza, conversation, and subtle torment as you continue to tease Gaeul under the radar of your oblivious friends. Every touch makes her jump, every whispered comment makes her blush.
Now you understand why she teases you.
It's so fucking pleasurable.
When everyone finally starts heading home for the night, you hang back, pretending to look for your phone. As the last friend leaves, you corner Gaeul in the kitchen.
"Think you learned your lesson?" you ask, pressing her against the counter.
She nods quickly, her breath catching as you lean in close. "Yes... I won't be mean anymore."
"Good girl." You grab her ass roughly, making her gasp. "But just to make sure it sticks..."
Before she can protest, you spin her around and bend her over the kitchen counter. Your hand slides into her shorts, finding her already wet.
"Fuck, you're soaked again," you growl in her ear. "Did you get turned on sitting there in front of everyone, knowing what a whore you are?"
"Please," she whimpers. "They might come back..."
"Better be quiet then." You pull her shorts down just enough to expose her ass and pussy. "Wouldn't want them to see their tough tomboy friend being used like a fucktoy."
You unzip your pants and line up with her entrance, sliding into her still-tight pussy in one smooth thrust. Gaeul bites her lip to keep from moaning as you start fucking her against the counter.
"Such a good little slut now," you grunt, gripping her hips. "Amazing what a proper fucking can do to fix an attitude problem."
Your pace increases, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the kitchen. Gaeul's legs shake as she tries to stay quiet, small whimpers escaping despite her best efforts.
You reach around to rub her clit while you pound into her, feeling her pussy clench around your cock. Her whole body trembles as another orgasm approaches.
"Please," she whispers desperately. "I'm so close..."
"Cum for me," you command, working her clit faster. "Show me what a good girl you can be."
Gaeul buries her face in her arm to muffle her scream as she cums hard, her pussy spasming around your shaft. You fuck her through her orgasm until she's practically sobbing from overstimulation.
Just as you're about to cum, you pull out and spin her around, forcing her to her knees. "Open your mouth. Take your reward like a good slut."
She obeys immediately, looking up at you with those big eyes as you stroke your cock. With a grunt, you explode all over her face, covering her in thick ropes of cum.
"Don't move," you order as you tuck yourself away. "I want to remember you like this - on your knees, covered in my cum, finally learning your place."
Gaeul stays still, cum dripping down her face onto her chest. She looks thoroughly debauched and completely submissive.
"Clean yourself up," you say, heading for the door. "And remember - any time you start acting like a bitch again, this is what happens."
As you leave her house, you can't help but smile thinking about how different things will be now. The dynamic between you and Gaeul has shifted completely - no more will she bet the untouchable tomboy who loves to torment you. Now you know what she really needs, what she's been craving all along.
You sit in class, bored as fuck scrolling through your phone under the desk. A notification pops up - it's from Gaeul. Your heart skips a beat seeing that familiar contact name. Opening the message, you nearly drop your phone - this crazy bitch sent you a pic of her tight ass with an anal plug inserted, taken in what looks like the girls' bathroom. The caption reads "Missing your fat cock stretching me out... meet me after class? 😈"
You adjust yoursel in secret, already getting hard remembering how you bent her over your desk yesterday and fucked her tight ass until she was begging for more. It still amazes you how things changed between you two. For months she tormented you - calling you names, tarnishing your image at college, making fun of you in front of your friends…
Until that one day you finally snapped.
Now here you are three months later, sexting during class while pretending nothing's changed in public, with a phone full of filthy videos and pictures of your former bully. Videos of her fucking herself with toys, close-ups of her stretched holes, clips of her begging for your cock. On the surface she still acts tough, but you know the truth - she's just a needy anal slut who craves being dominated.
Your phone buzzes again - another pic from the bathroom, this time showing her fingers buried in her dripping pussy. "Can't wait anymore... Come fuck me NOW!!"
You raise your hand, making up some bullshit excuse about feeling sick. The professor waves you out and you practically run to the second floor bathroom where you know she's waiting. The halls are empty since class is still in session.
You slip inside the second floor bathroom and there she is - still in her typical tomboy getup of baggy jeans and oversized hoodie. Her short hair is slightly messy and her cheeks are flushed. The contrast between her tough exterior and what you know lies underneath makes your cock throb.
"Took you long enough, nerd," she smirks, but you can see the desperate hunger in her eyes. Her tough girl act doesn't work on you anymore - not since you discovered what a submissive little slut she really is.
"Shut the fuck up," you growl, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the cold tile wall. She gasps, her pupils dilating with lust. "Sending me pictures like that while I'm in class... you're such a desperate whore."
"Hmm, maybe I am," she taunts, grinding against your obvious bulge. "What are you gonna do about it?"
You tighten your grip on her throat, using your other hand to roughly grope her small tits through her clothes. Even through the baggy fabric you can feel her hard nipples. "I'm gonna remind you exactly who owns this body."
"Big talk from a ne-" Her words cut off in a moan as you spin her around and bend her over the sink, yanking those loose jeans down to her thighs. She's not wearing any underwear, the slut. The metal plug glints between her ass cheeks, just like in the picture she sent.
"Look at you, walking around with a plug in your ass like a proper anal whore." You give her pale ass a hard slap, leaving a red handprint. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all morning."
"Fuck... yes..." she admits, dropping the attitude as you start playing with the plug. "Haven't stopped thinking about it since last night..."
You slowly twist and pull the plug, watching her asshole grip the metal. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear the tough tomboy beg."
"Please..." she whimpers as you pop the plug out, her hole gaping slightly. "Need your cock in my ass..."
"Not good enough." You spit on her exposed hole and start working one finger in while she squirms. "Be specific. Tell me exactly what you need."
"I need... fuck..." A second finger joins the first, stretching her wider. "Need you to fuck my ass raw... need you to remind me what a slut I am..."
"Keep going." Three fingers now, roughly fucking her loosened hole while she pants and moans. "Tell me how this nerd turned you into such a whore."
"You... ah!... you showed me what I really am..." Her pussy is literally dripping onto the floor as you finger-fuck her ass. "Showed me that I'm just a cockhungry anal slut... please, I need it so bad..."
"Need what?" You curl your fingers, making her gasp.
"Need your fat cock stretching my ass! Need you to fuck me like the worthless whore I am! Please, I'll do anything!" She's practically sobbing now, all traces of her usual attitude gone.
You pull your fingers out and quickly undo your pants, letting your rock hard cock spring free. "Look at yourself in the mirror while I fuck you. I want you to watch yourself break."
Her eyes meet yours in the reflection as you line up with her gaping hole. Without warning you thrust all the way in, making her cry out. The sound echoes off the bathroom walls but you don't care - you need to put this bratty bitch in her place.
"Fuck! So big..." she moans as you establish a brutal pace, watching your cock disappear into her tight asshole over and over. She tries to muffle herself by biting her sleeve but you grab her hair and yank her head up.
"No. I want to hear every slutty sound you make. Let everyone know what a whore you are." You reach around to roughly pinch her nipples through her hoodie. "Who would believe that the tough tomboy loves taking it up the ass?"
"Only... only for you..." she pants, her whole body shaking as you rail her. "You're the only one who gets to use me like this..."
"Damn right." You pull almost all the way out before slamming back in, making her yelp. "This ass belongs to me. I fucking own you."
Your words make her moan even louder. You can see in the mirror how completely wrecked she looks - face flushed, eyes glazed, mouth hanging open as she takes your cock. Such a different sight from her usual cocky expression.
"Touch yourself," you command. "Play with that dripping pussy while I destroy your ass."
She immediately reaches down to rub her clit, her fingers moving frantically. The extra stimulation makes her ass clench around you even tighter. "Gonna... gonna cum soon..."
"Already? Such a slutty response." You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bathroom. "Cumming from getting your ass fucked in a public bathroom... what would your friends think if they could see you now?"
"Don't care... fuck... just don't stop!" She's openly crying now, tears of pleasure running down her face as you pound her mercilessly.
You grab her hips hard enough to bruise and really start hammering into her. Each thrust makes her whole body jerk forward, her small tits bouncing under the hoodie. "Come on then, cum for me. Show me what a buttslut you are."
Her orgasm hits hard - her ass spasms around your cock as she practically screams into her sleeve, her legs shaking so bad you have to hold her up. You don't slow down, fucking her through the intense climax.
"Good girl... but we're not done yet." You pull out suddenly, making her whine at the emptiness. "On your knees. Time to remind you what you're good for."
She drops to her knees immediately, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. Your cock is right in her face, still slick from her ass. Without being told, she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue.
"That's right, taste yourself like the dirty slut you are." You slap your cock against her tongue a few times before shoving it down her throat. She gags but takes it like a champ, months of practice evident in how she relaxes her throat.
You grab her short hair with both hands and start properly facefucking her, using her mouth like a pussy. Tears stream down her face and drool drips from her chin but she doesn't try to pull away. If anything she moans around your cock, clearly loving the rough treatment.
"Look at me while I use your throat," you command. Her eyes lock onto yours, full of submission and need. "Such a good little fucktoy... so different from the bitch who used to bully me..."
She reaches down to play with herself again as you fuck her face, two fingers buried in her soaking pussy while her other hand works her clit. The sight of the former bully masturbating while choking on your cock pushes you closer to the edge.
"Gonna cum... gonna paint that pretty face..." You pull out of her mouth, still gripping her hair. "Stick out your tongue and beg for it."
"Please..." her voice is hoarse from the throat fucking. "Please, babe, cum on my face... mark me as your whore... I need it..."
You stroke yourself rapidly, aiming at her upturned face. "Here it comes slut... take it all..."
Your orgasm hits like a truck, shooting thick ropes of cum all over her face. Some lands on her tongue but most covers her cheeks, nose, and forehead. She moans as you mark her, still frantically fingering herself.
"Don't you dare wipe it off," you pant as the last drops fall onto her lips. "I want you to remember who owns you."
She nods, face completely glazed with your seed. "Yours... all yours..."
You tuck yourself back in while she stays on her knees, cum slowly dripping down her face. "Clean yourself up and get back to class. But leave the plug in - I want your ass ready for round two later."
"Yes sir," she says softly, finally dropping the last pretense of attitude.
As you head for the door, you turn back for one last look. She's still kneeling there, face covered in cum, jeans around her thighs, asshole gaping slightly.
Such a perfect sight.
"Oh and Gaeul?" You smirk as she looks up at you. "Try not to be such a bitch for the rest of the day. Or I'll have to teach you another lesson."
She shivers at the threat, clearly already looking forward to it. "No promises... might need another reminder later."
You leave her there to clean up, already planning how you'll use her next. Who would've thought that all it took to tame the tomboy bully was a good ass fucking?
The bell rings as you head back to class, already getting hard again thinking about round two. Maybe you take her home and fuck her in your bed, or if she can't wait that long, an empty classroom will do just as well.... The possibilities are endless when you have such an eager anal whore at your disposal.
Later that week, you're hanging out with friends at the campus coffee shop when Gaeul suggests everyone come to her place to watch something.
The movie blares on the TV screen, flickering shadows across the room. Your friends are all sprawled out, zoned in, eyes glued to the action unfolding. But you? You’re only half-paying attention because Gaeul's sitting beside you, her hand resting a little too close, fingers drumming against the couch arm. Every slight touch feels like electricity shooting through your veins.
Then she shifts, stretches out her arms with a feigned yawn. "I'm grabbing something upstairs," she mumbles to the room. No one even looks up. She rises, tossing a quick, knowing glance your way before slipping out. Your cock throbs in your pants as you watch her walk away, her ass moving in those intentionally short shorts.
You count to sixty slowly before making your own excuse.
"Just gonna grab another beer," you say casually. No one even looks up from the TV.
Perfect.
Your heart pounds as you climb the stairs, already imagining how you're going to wreck that tight ass. The door to Gaeul's bedroom is slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. You open the door slowly and there she is, sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for you, her ankle bouncing impatiently.
“I thought you’d never show up,” she says with a smile.
Without wasting any time, you approach and spin Gaeul around and roughly bend her over the edge of the bed, yanking her panties down in one swift motion. Your cock throbs at the sight of her tight little asshole already glistening with lube - this dirty slut came prepared, knowing she was going to get her ass destroyed tonight.
"Fucking horny little whore," you growl, giving her ass a hard slap that makes her yelp. "Already lubed up and ready for my cock. Bet you've been thinking about this all day."
"Please," she whimpers, pushing her ass back toward you. "Need it so bad..."
You unzip your pants and pull out your rock-hard cock, giving it a few slow strokes as you admire her puckered hole. Your free hand spreads her ass cheeks wider, making her squirm with anticipation.
"Beg for it," you command, rubbing your cockhead teasingly against her entrance. "Tell me exactly what you want."
"Fuck, please... need your fat cock in my tight little asshole," she pants desperately. "Want you to stretch me open and wreck my ass while everyone's downstairs. Please fuck me like the anal slut I am!"
You press your thick tip against her hole, watching it start to stretch around your girth. "Such a dirty fucking whore, begging to get ass-fucked with your friends right below us. What would they think if they knew their tough tomboy friend was really just a cock-hungry buttslut?"
Gaeul moans as you start pushing into her impossibly tight hole. The lube helps, but her ass still grips your cock like a vice as you feed more and more of your length into her. You can feel every ridge and fold of her inner walls clinging to your shaft.
"Holy fuck, you're so tight... No matter how many times I ruin your ass, it always looks like virgin territory," you grunt, gripping her hips harder. "That little asshole is squeezing my cock so good."
"More," she gasps, biting down on her pillow to muffle her sounds. "Fill me up, stretch my ass open!"
You continue pushing forward until your balls are pressed against her dripping pussy. Your entire cock is buried in her ass, making her feel completely stuffed and stretched. You hold still for a moment, savoring the incredible tightness.
"That's it, take every inch like a good little anal whore," you growl in her ear, reaching around to roughly grope her small tits. Her nipples are rock hard between your fingers. "Ready to get that ass pounded?"
"Yes! Please fuck me hard," she begs in a desperate whisper. "Wreck my tight hole!"
You pull back until just the tip remains inside, then slam forward balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Gaeul lets out a choked cry into the pillow as you establish a rough rhythm, your cock pistoning in and out of her stretched asshole.
The wet sounds of anal sex fill the room - the obscene squelching of lube, the meaty slap of your balls against her pussy, the muffled moans she can't quite contain. Her whole body rocks with the force of your thrusts as you hammer into her tight hole.
"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear over and over into her gripping asshole. "Love seeing this tight little hole stretch around my fat cock. Such a perfect anal slut."
You grab a handful of her hair and yank her head back, making her arch her spine. The new angle lets you drive even deeper into her ass, hitting spots that make her whole body tremble.
"Harder!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Fucking destroy my ass, make me your buttslut!"
You respond by increasing your pace, absolutely ravaging her tight hole. Your heavy balls slap against her soaking wet pussy with each thrust. She's so turned on that her juices are running down her thighs.
"Look at you, getting your pussy all wet from taking it in the ass," you taunt, reaching down to rub her swollen clit. "Such a nasty little whore, getting off on having your asshole stretched open."
Gaeul can only whimper and moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure of being used. Her ass grips and pulses around your cock, trying to milk the cum from your balls.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway makes you both freeze. Your cock throbs inside her stretched hole as you hold perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. The footsteps pause right outside the door.
Your hand clamps over Gaeul's mouth as you stay buried balls-deep in her ass. You can feel her heart pounding, her asshole clenching even tighter around your shaft from the fear of getting caught.
After what feels like an eternity, the footsteps continue past the door and fade away down the hall. As soon as they're gone, you resume fucking her even harder than before, driven wild by the close call.
"Dirty fucking slut, almost got us caught," you growl, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. "Maybe I should let them catch us, let them see what a cock-hungry anal whore you really are."
She shakes her head frantically but her pussy gushes at the thought, coating your balls in her juices. The way her ass grips you tells you she's getting close to cumming.
"That's it, squeeze that cock with your tight little hole," you grunt, feeling your own orgasm building. "Gonna flood this ass with cum, mark you as my personal buttslut."
Your fingers work her clit faster as you pound her stretched asshole. Gaeul's whole body starts to shake as she approaches her peak. Her inner walls clamp down almost painfully tight around your thrusting cock.
"Cum for me," you command. "Cum with my fat cock buried in your ass like the anal slut you are!"
She explodes around you, her orgasm making her squirt all over the bed as her ass spasms around your shaft. The intense tightness pushes you over the edge and you grunt as your cock swells.
"Take it, take my fucking load," you growl as you empty your balls deep in her ass. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her stretched hole while she continues to shake and moan through her own orgasm.
You keep thrusting through both your climaxes, making obscene squelching sounds as your cum starts leaking out around your cock. Her ass is still rhythmically clenching, milking every last drop from your balls.
When you finally pull out, her gaping asshole immediately starts leaking your thick load. You watch mesmerized as white cum drips down her thighs and pools on the bedspread below.
"Holy fuck," Gaeul pants, collapsing onto the bed. Her hole is still twitching and leaking, thoroughly used and marked as yours. "That was so fucking good..."
You give her ass one slap, admiring the way it makes more cum leak out. "That's what happens to me when you keep teasing me all day long. Get your ass stretched and filled with cum while your friends are right downstairs."
She shivers at your words, reaching back to feel her gaping, cum-filled hole. "My ass is gonna be so sore tomorrow…”
"Yeah, and you love it, don't you?!"
Your cock gives an interested twitch as you watch her finger herself, scooping some of your cum out of her stretched hole. To your surprise and arousal, she brings her cum-covered fingers to her mouth and sucks them clean.
"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, feeling yourself starting to harden again already. "You really can't get enough, can you?"
She grins up at you, still tasting your cum on her tongue. "What can I say? You've turned me into such a whore for your cock. Especially in my ass."
You grab her hair and pull her up for a rough kiss, tasting yourself on her lips. Your rapidly hardening cock presses against her stomach as you devour her mouth.
"Ready for another round already?" she asks breathlessly when you break apart, feeling your erection growing. "Gonna wreck my ass again?"
"Fuck yes," you grunt, spinning her around and pushing her face-down into the mattress. "Gonna use this tight little hole until you can't walk straight tomorrow."
You spread her ass cheeks, admiring how her gaping hole is still leaking your previous load. The sight of your cum dripping from her stretched asshole has you rock hard again in seconds.
"Please," she whimpers, wiggling her hips invitingly. "Fill me up again, use me like your personal anal slut!"
You line your cock up with her cum-lubed hole and push back inside with one smooth thrust. She's still incredibly tight despite being stretched and filled with your load.
"Fuck, love how this greedy little hole just swallows my cock," you growl, starting to pound her ass again. "Such a perfect little anal whore, always ready to take it in the ass."
The mixture of cum and lube makes obscene squelching sounds as you fuck her stretched hole. Your previous load leaks out around your shaft with each thrust, running down her thighs.
"Yes! Use my ass, wreck my tight little hole!" she moans into the pillow. "Love being your anal slut!"
You grab her hips and really start hammering into her, making the bed creak dangerously. Her whole body bounces with the force of your thrusts as you ravage her sensitive hole.
Your balls slap against her dripping pussy, already coated in a mixture of her juices and your leaking cum. The dirty sounds of anal sex fill the room once again.
"Such a nasty little whore," you grunt, reaching around to pinch and twist her hard nipples. "Getting your ass fucked twice while your friends are right downstairs. Bet you love the risk of getting caught, don't you?"
"Yes!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your brutal thrusts. "Love being your secret anal slut, love taking your fat cock in my tight little ass!"
You pull her up by her hair until her back is pressed against your chest, changing the angle of penetration. Your cock drives even deeper into her stretched hole as you fuck up into her.
"That's it, ride this cock like the buttslut you are," you growl in her ear, one hand around her throat. "Show me how badly you need it in your ass."
Gaeul starts bouncing on your cock, working her hips in tight circles that make her ass grip you like a vice. Her small tits bounce with each movement as she impales herself on your shaft.
"Gonna cum again," she whimpers after a few minutes of riding you. "Please make me cum with your cock in my ass!"
You throw her back down onto the bed and really start drilling her stretched hole, pounding her g-spot through her ass wall. Your fingers find her clit again, rubbing quick circles as you ravage her.
"Cum for me, you dirty anal whore," you command. "Cum all over my cock while I wreck this tight little asshole!"
She explodes around you for the second time, her whole body convulsing as she squirts all over the already-soaked bed. Her ass clamps down painfully tight on your thrusting cock.
The incredible tightness pushes you over the edge again. You bury yourself balls-deep in her spasming hole as your cock swells and pulses.
"Take it, take another load in this slutty ass," you grunt as you empty your balls inside her again. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her already-full hole while she continues to shake through her own orgasm.
When you finally pull out, her thoroughly used asshole gapes obscenely, leaking a river of white cum onto the bed. She collapses face-down, completely fucked out and marked as yours.
"Holy fuck," she pants, reaching back to feel her destroyed hole still leaking your loads. "Fuck, I'm gonna be leaking your load all night now."
"Next time I'm gonna make you wear a plug to keep my cum inside you," you tell Gaeul as you lay down next to her, catching your breath. "Make you sit through the whole movie feeling your ass full of my load."
She shivers at the thought, clearly turned on despite being thoroughly fucked out. "Fuck, I don't think I've ever been as naughty as I am with you now...." After a moment, she rolls over to face you with an unusually serious expression. "Hey... I need to tell you something," she says quietly. "I'm getting tired of hiding this. Hiding us."
Your heart skips a beat. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... fuck, this started as just casual sex after you put me in my place that day. But somewhere along the way I actually started having deep feelings for you." She looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability. "And I'm sick of pretending I don't."
You're quiet for a long moment, processing this. "I feel the same way," you finally admit. "Have for a while now."
Her eyes snap back to yours. "Really?"
"Really." You pull her closer. "I love how you try to act all tough, but I know what a needy little slut you really are. Love making you fall apart on my cock. But I also just... love being around you. Even when we're not fucking. I love when you laugh at my jokes now, much better than when you pretended not to like them. I always thought your laugh was cute."
A genuine smile spreads across her face - not her usual cocky smirk. "So what do we do about it?"
"Well, we could tell everyone we're dating," you suggest. "No more sneaking around."
"Mmm..." She pretends to consider it. "Or we could keep this our dirty little secret for a while longer. The sneaking around is pretty hot."
You grin and squeeze her ass. "True. Nothing like fucking you with the risk of getting caught."
"Exactly." She kisses you deeply. "Let's give it another month of secret fucking. Then we can go public."
"Deal." You slap her ass playfully. "Now get dressed before they come looking for us."
She quickly pulls her clothes back on, wincing slightly. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to sit in the chair tomorrow in class."
"Good." You zip up your pants. "Something to remember me by while you study."
You head back downstairs first, trying to act casual as you rejoin the group. A few minutes later, Gaeul returns with a bowl of chips like nothing happened.
But you catch her squirming uncomfortably on the couch, feeling your cum leak out of her ass. The secret knowledge of what you just did makes your cock start to stiffen again.
She notices and gives you that familiar smirk. You know you'll be sneaking off to fuck again before the night is over. Maybe this time you'll bend her over the bathroom sink and stuff her pussy full of cock while she tries to stay quiet.
The thought of all the secret hookups to come over the next month has your head spinning. Every stolen moment will be even hotter now that you know there are real feelings involved.
But for now, you focus on the movie and try not to make it obvious that you just railed your friend's ass upstairs.
The perfect crime - except for the cum still dripping down her thighs.
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capuccinodoll · 2 months ago
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Honey love, dark eyes
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♡ Chapter one ♡
Summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, your best friend. As usual, you and Sarah are getting everything ready to celebrate, just like you have for years. However, while preparing dinner before Joel gets home from work, Sarah tells you that her dad has been seeing a mysterious woman for the past couple of weeks. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he’s been deliberately hiding it from you, even going out of his way to lie about it.
Though you try to keep your anger in check to avoid ruining his birthday, your emotions get the better of you later that night when it’s just the two of you. Joel doesn’t hold back either, sparking a heated argument that pushes you both further than ever before.
Word count: 9.4K
A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!
If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.
You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.
"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.
She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."
"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.
She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."
And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.
He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”
“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”
He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”
You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.
“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.
You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”
“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”
Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”
“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”
“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”
“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”
A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."
You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”
He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.
“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.
You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.
You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.
“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”
It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.
Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.
Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.
It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.
You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.
“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.
She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.
“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.
Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”
She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”
“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.
When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.
“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.
He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.
“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.
His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.
That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.
It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”
Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.
One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.
“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.
You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.
"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.
“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.
“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”
Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.
“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”
Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.
In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.
Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”
You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.
“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.
“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"
You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.
“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.
Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.
“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”
*
Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.
“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”
He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.
“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”
The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.
You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.
After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.
Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.
“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.
Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.
“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.
He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.
Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.
Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.
Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.
He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.
“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.
Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”
“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”
“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.
You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.
“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.
“How much did you pay for this?”
“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”
“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”
You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.
“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”
“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.
“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”
Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.
“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.
Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.
“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.
Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.
When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”
“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”
But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.
Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?
You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.
You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”
Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”
Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.
You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.
“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.
“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”
He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.
“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.
You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“So, what did you do last night?”
He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”
You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.
Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.
Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not. 
It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.
“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”
He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.
“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.
After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”
The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.
“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”
Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”
“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.
“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.
“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”
Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.
“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”
You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”
He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.
After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.
“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.
“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”
He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”
And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.
“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”
He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”
“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”
He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.
“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.
His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”
Jealous. He thought you were jealous.
He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.
But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.
“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.
Honestly, he could go fuck himself.
Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.
“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.
You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.
“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.
He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”
“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”
He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.
You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”
Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”
Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.
Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.
You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”
“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”
“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.
Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.
“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”
“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”
He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.
“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”
“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”
Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.
His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”
“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.
He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”
“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.
The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.
“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”
Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.
But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.
Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”
His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.
“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.
But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.
“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”
You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.
His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.
“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.
The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.
But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.
With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.
He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.
Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.
Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.
You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all. 
No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.
You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness. 
His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.
In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.
You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.
“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.
“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.
His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.
His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.
Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.
His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.
He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.
Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.
“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.
You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.
He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.
“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.
He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.
“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.
His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”
You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.
“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.
From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.
Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.
You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.
His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.
With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.
He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.
Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.
Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form. 
There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.
With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.
“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."
You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.
The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.
His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him. 
You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him. 
“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.
A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.
Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure. 
A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.
You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.
And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?
“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”
You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.
His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.
Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.
He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.
He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...
No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.
When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.
Joel was gone.
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