#I’ll finally have a bit more time to draw soon
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beanie-based-being · 2 years ago
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Trans dib doodles to make dysphoria go brrrr
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cosmosis · 1 year ago
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy
miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!
Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 
Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 
For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 
Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)
Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 
“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.
“No.“
“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 
“Jess.“
“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“
“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 
You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 
“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 
Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 
Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 
“Whipped.“
“Shut the fuck up.“
. . .
Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 
Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  
“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 
“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“
Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 
“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 
“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 
Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 
“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 
“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“
Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...
Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 
Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 
“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 
And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 
“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 
“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 
“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“
Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 
Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 
“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 
You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  
And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”
“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“
He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 
“Aw, crap.“
“Finally.“
You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”
“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 
“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“
“One of literally thousands!“
“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“
“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“
Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.
“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 
“When?“ You ask.
“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 
“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.
“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.
“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 
He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 
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melliemell · 19 days ago
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Pairing: Chuuya x f!reader
Contents: NSFW, penetration (reader receiving), Chuuya-levels of cursing, don't say he's cute, he'd get grumpy about it and fuck you stupid to prove a point, incessant flirting, Approx 1.1k words
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It really started off as a joke.
An off-hand comment you made. You didn’t intend on paying more attention to it… were it not Chuuya’s reaction; an eyebrow raised as he leaned into his seat, that god-awful grin of his spreading wide as he regarded you.
Your date was going well, all things considered. A nice restaurant, your own secluded corner to settle in at and relax, a gift of overly extravagant flowers–always the charmer that one, Chuuya even pulled the chair for you–it was perfect. A sense of being with the right person doing the right thing.
Finally having the time for each other.
And doing normal, romantic things was part of this evening’s plans.
Except it was Chuuya you were speaking of. Nothing that simple ever happened around him.
“So you think I’m boring?” he asked, playing the amused card to the tenth. There was none of his usual bark, only the teasing tone you had grown accustomed to.
“Misleading–” you began, leaning into his personal space to poke at his chest. “–is what I was referring to. This grand, scary mafioso… that also happens to spend half an hour choosing which shoes go best with which vest. You portray the part of barking dog really well but you’re actually a cutie.” And you winked, just to nail it down.
Chuuya clicked his tongue. He didn’t like it when you babied him, you knew that. But his reactions were too good to miss out on. 
“Hah? That the type of man ya take me for?” he grumbled, not quite masking the slight annoyance this time around. 
You hummed, trailing a finger down his chest. “Devastated, are you?”
Chuuya grabbed your hand, raising it to plant a kiss to your wrist. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he said, “Damn right I am. Calling me ‘cute’ out here like ya don’t know any better.”
You cocked your head, eyebrow raised in feigned confusion. “What? You gonna do something about it?” You knew perfectly well where this was going.
A whispered “fuck” left Chuuya’s lips, audible only for you to hear. And it was then it got settled– you weren’t suited for the romance part. Not the innocent, charming one at least. You needed a bit… more.
It became even clearer when less than an hour later your hands fumbled for your keys, Chuuya glued to your back as he trailed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 
“I really hoped we’d be doing the ‘sweet date and movie night combo’, you know? Have you snuggled up against me and all,” you said, wasting no time as you both stumbled through the entrance, your hands finding their way around Chuuya’s neck. He kicked the door shut before trapping you against the nearby wall, lips seeking yours. 
“I’ll snuggle you up all night long, doll.” You could taste the wine on his tongue, the hurried way he kissed you leaving no space for distraction. Demanding your full attention was a staple mark of Chuuya’s, you couldn’t deny it.
“You seem preoccupied with other things, though,” you said, unbuttoning his vest.
Chuuya’s hands were already on your bra, unclasping the hooks before you felt a hand cup your breast, the barely-there caress of a thumb over your stiffened bud sending tingles of pleasure down your body in seconds. “How about you just ask me nicely, hm?” 
“Ah, you want me to beg now?” you asked, a finger trailing the outline of his lower lip, and you savored the way his breath trembled. Teasing like this would be wise only for now, you doubted he’d let you off the hook as easily soon enough. Not when you could feel his cock through the fabric of his trousers, hard against your thigh and probably leaking. 
Chuuya kissed your finger before biting it lightly, and you chuckled. “Don’t wanna leave me guessing what you want, do you? I might end up biting somewhere ya don’t want me to, sweets.”
You arched your hips forward, drawing a low groan from Chuuya. “We’ll have to wait and see then. I’m very open-minded, you know.”
“And stubborn,” Chuuya grinned, rocking against you. “Fu-uck, this feels good. I forgot what my point was, damnit.”
“Ha, loser.”
“Fuck off, bigger loser.” 
You were about to make fun of him again, seeing as he lost brain cells faster the hornier he got, but… you felt him pinch your nipple this time, rolling your bud between his skilled fingers as he dived for your neck again. The throbbing between your legs distracted you, intensifying even more as Chuuya’s tongue trailed along your pulse, leaving damp skin to prickle against the cold air. 
Rough wall against your back turned into soft sheets in a flurry of fragmented moments. Only Chuuya’s presence remained firm beside you. He settled between your legs, hands hurriedly discarding any remaining garments as fast as you both could, all the while without letting go of each other. Not once.
You barely had your underwear down before Chuuya was rocking forward, cock settling between your pussy lips as he rubbed against you. Your wetness spread over his tip only to draw a low moan from his parted lips. 
“Impatient,” you said, hooking your ankles around his hips. 
“You wanted the real deal tonight,” he grinned at you. “Going around calling me boring and cute all evening. Like hell I’ll leave it at that.”
“You gonna change my mind, fancy hat boy?”
“Ooh, you betcha,” Chuuya said, and slowly sank into the heat of your throbbing cunt.
You knew Chuuya was a talker; never shutting up even when you really would rather just hold him, hand clasped over his mouth as he fucked you in peace.
But not this time. It was quick and rough, him bottoming out in you with every slick thrust. He barely gave you time to take your bearings, his hand finding your clit only to start rubbing mercilessly in sync with his movements. Trying to stifle your moans was proving near impossible. Only Chuuya’s lips served as help, swallowing your every sound as he kissed you stupid. 
“Oh, fuck…” you panted, pulling away. 
“Nuh-huh, where ya going, sweets?” Chuuya ground his hips against yours, drawing another pained moan from your throat. “I’m doing you good, yeah? Come on, keep up with me.”
Your nails dug into his back even as your body trembled all over. “A bit too good there.”
“Yeah?” Chuuya trailed kisses down your jawline, his pace slowed. For now, at least. “Wanna ask me nicely about it?” he whispered.
Fuck. “I’m in for it, aren’t I?” you asked, knowing full well the answer. 
Chuuya only grinned.
Yeah, it was about to be a long night.
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tortureddarkstar · 2 months ago
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✩ IN BLOOM
AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN
DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER
18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.
summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.
inspired by: in bloom- nirvana
this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x
lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x
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“hey, focus.”
your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.
dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.
“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.
“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”
“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.
“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.
“ow.”
“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.
you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.
there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.
not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.
on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.
well, not towards him. more so the colt.
and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.
however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.
“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.
“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”
fuck, now you were wet.
“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”
dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.
yeah we’ll see about focusing.
dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”
but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.
he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.
dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.
“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.
“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.
“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.
“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”
instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.
“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”
“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.
“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.
you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.
inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.
“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.
this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?
the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.
“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.
“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.
oh, he’d give you something to cry about.
without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.
“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”
now that drew a moan out of you.
“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.
nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.
a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.
just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.
you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.
smack. in. the. middle.
you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.
“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.
with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.
“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”
you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.
you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.
“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.
a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.
oh what a lesson this was.
dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.
the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.
“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.
obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.
soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.
ever eager to please, you let go.
spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.
he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.
you were in bloom. and oh how he basked in it.
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jeoncopi · 4 months ago
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[1] EAGER DAYS | JJK
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are you ready to witness what's like to have a very yearning, domestically soft, vulnerable, silly yet playful and hot military boyfriend?
welcome to military jungkook's episodes!
—this entire series are based during jungkook's current state. as I'll be writing with each irl update. so this series might last until jungkook's finally free (Imao).
IMPORTANT: each episode won't be necessarily correlated to one another but some episodes could have light references to previous actions, feelings or situations.
BE AWARE OF: 18+ CONTENT.
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pair: jungkook x reader
word count: 1.1k
what’s in here?: cutely and reassuring banter.
[more espisodes]
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EPISODE 1. “piercings? OUT!”
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It’s early in the morning, you both haven’t eat.
Jungkook wakes up first, just like he has been doing it for a couple of days as he said that everything is for him to be able to accustom and get ready for his future new morning routine.
he’s been already so dedicated, using eunwoo’s gifted military watch too. — he didn’t liked thinking too much about going there but somehow, he had to if he wanted to mentally prepare. mostly when he really, really didn’t wanted to go.
he sighs as he’s brushing his teeth. so sleepy..
“okay, I’ll take them out now.” he murmurs to himself as he open his mouth, slender fingers touching his lips as he removes one of his lip piercings. “okay.. there’s one.” continuing by repeating the same process for the other one. “and.. last one.”
he takes a good look at himself in the mirror. fingers slightly rubbing his bottom lip. ‘the scar doesn’t look too bad’. he pushes the inside of his bottom lip with his tongue, having a better look at the size of the little holes. ‘yep, not too bad.’
stepping out of the bathroom as soon as he heards a sound that looks like it’s coming from the kitchen, ‘babe’. crosses his mind.
all he can see is your back as soon as you ask, “all good?” taking several steps closer to him when your body finally turns to face him and he could already get a whiff of the very tempting leftover pizza from last night that you were already heating. the smell quickly floating all over the place.
“yeah,” he responds without further ado.
your hands travel over his face into a cup as you inspected his face, slightly moving it from side to side. “your skin has gotten better.” you smile. “oh.” pausing, you start caressing your anular finger onto his bottom lip.
“oh.” he mimics your response in agreement. bambi eyes only examinating your every facial expression while yours are just so focused on his lips.
“it’s not that bad..” reassuring him, you mutter more to yourself but jungkook can still heard you very clearly.
“I thought the same.” barely managing to talk since you keep looking and touching his lips.
“I like it though.” leaving a peck on his lips. “you look sort of weird though.” you chuckle.
he does too. a sort of shy smile drawing his lips as he rubs the back of his head with his left arm, feeling a bit embarrassed without one solid reason. “it’s been a while..”
you then mirror him with a warm smile. “it really has been..” you pause. “it sort of looks like a vampire has now bitten your lip though..” you joke. “should I be jealous?” arching one eyebrow in a funny way.
jungkook laugh. “you’re so obsessed with vampires, I’m telling you.” while taking your hands off his face. he places them behind your back as he hugs you. sort of trapping you into his big body. snuggling his face into your neck sniffing you as if he was a dog and it makes you laugh.
“leave me alone!” raising your voice in between laughs. you finally detached your body from his. “you’re crazy.”
he boyishly smiles, crossing both his arms on his chest as he quickly point his chin up when he says, “you smell good.” with the tone of his voice being very playful and sultry..
he continues, this time leaning majority of his weight onto the dinner table with his right hand while his left one anxiously caresses one side of his neck, very slowly. “I’m..” he pauses. “..kinda scared of shaving my entire hair, if I’m being honest.” he confesses. “this is just step one,” referring to his piercings. “but step two..”
you listen as the pizza is finally heated. placing them with both plates on the table. your gaze lingering at him as you both comfortably seat.
“it’s hard” you respond, sympathizing with him.
“It is.” he re-affirms. “but it’s just hair, right?”
“eung. it’s not like you have a choice anyways..”
“wow. you really do help.” he jokes around at your unhelpful answer. he chuckles about it as soon as he sees your worried face. “all good babe.” being light hearted with a soft smile, he continues. “I do know.” answering to you. then he breathes, “I’m thinking of doing it myself.”
you didn’t say a thing for a few seconds. “I wouldn’t be surprised to be honest.”
he chuckles. “I am that predictable?”
“I mean.. sometimes.” you tease.
jungkook rolls his eyes. “ha.” he tsk with a bitter smirk on his lips. it makes you laugh.
“too lazy to book a date for it?” you genuinely ask, referring to the hair salon.
“mm.. not really. I just thought that I won’t ever have this opportunity ever again, you know?” he pauses. “it’s not like I could go bald just any other day.” he chuckles.
agreeing with him, “you’re right.” you respond. “I’ve heard that they shave it for you once you’re there so..” he repeatedly nods his head very cutely, making his whole luscious hair bounce.
you smile. he’s so cute.
“but I’ve also heard that you can continuing shaving your hair as long as you’re there, you know?”
jungkook laughs at your words. “babe, do you really think I’ll do this TWICE?” as his hand dramatically points at his chest when he speaks. making you both laugh.
“I’ll leave my short hair if that’s the case, but I won’t give being bald a second chance..”
“why? you don’t even know if you’ll look bad.” you pause. “maybe it’s refreshing, you’ll never know.” you tease, “maybe you’ll fall in love with your bald head, life can bring many surprises.”
jungkook only sides eyed you while he takes a bite at his pizza slice. “tsk. no.” cheeks full. “I like my hair the way it is, thanks.”
making you laugh. “okay then.” pausing. “given this situation, I’ll trust your skills.” doing a fake half reverence to him with your pizza as you take a bite.
“you should trust me!” cutely demanding, he says with a pout on his lips.
you laugh again. “I said I do!”
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marysfics · 3 months ago
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In the Silence of the Night
You’ve noticed that your girlfriend has been withdrawing a bit lately due to her busy work schedule. You really need her help with your medical injections, but you don’t want to add to her stress. You’ve tried doing it yourself, but it’s been more challenging than you thought it would be.
Angst, Needles, Fluff, Happy Ending
It was nearing 8 PM when you heard the front door finally creak open. You didn’t need to check to know it was Alexia. The sound of her duffel bag hitting the floor with a soft thud, followed by the weary sigh she let out, told you everything you needed to know. She’d had another long, draining day at the club, just like she had the day before… and the day before that.
You lifted your head slightly from where you were curled up on the couch, trying to suppress the flicker of hope that had bubbled in your chest all day. That small, irrational hope that maybe tonight she’d come in, smile, and ask how you were doing. Maybe she’d sit next to you, brush a kiss across your forehead, and offer to help with your injection like she always used to. But the moment was fleeting as soon as she stepped inside.
Without even looking your way, Alexia walked past the living room, her footsteps heavy as they disappeared down the hallway. "I’m just going to shower," she mumbled in your direction, the exhaustion dripping from her voice like water from a leaking tap. "I’ll be quick, I promise."
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You watched her disappear around the corner, the hum of the bathroom light flicking on soon after. And just like that, the bubble of anticipation burst, leaving nothing but a sinking weight in your stomach.
She didn’t ask how your day was. Not anymore.
Your gaze dropped to the small black case sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, your throat tightening. The case held the injections—your injections—the ones you’d always relied on Alexia to help you with. It had become a kind of routine between the two of you, an unspoken pact of support and care. You hated needles, but when she was the one doing it, it didn’t seem so bad. You always felt safe when she was by your side.
But lately… things had changed. She had changed.
You bit your lip, drawing in a shaky breath. You understood that she was busy. You really did. Being captain came with more responsibilities, and there were new players to help, more training sessions to oversee, more late-night meetings, more everything. You could see how much it weighed on her. And you didn’t want to be another burden.
Still, it stung. It stung that, even when she was finally home, she seemed distant, distracted. It stung that she didn’t seem to notice how much you’d been struggling, even though the signs were all there, clear as day. She used to notice everything. Now, she barely noticed you at all.
I’ll talk to her tonight, you told yourself, trying to push back the rising tide of frustration and doubt. She’s just tired. It’s not her fault. She’ll listen.
But as the minutes passed and the steady hum of the shower continued to echo through the walls, the doubt began to creep in. The words you’d been rehearsing in your head all day started to feel inadequate, too small for the growing gap between you. What if she brushed it off again? What if she said she didn’t have time?
You pressed your hands into your lap, your fingers twisting together nervously. The thought of doing the injection on your own tonight filled you with a quiet, gnawing dread. You could do it. You should be able to do it, after all these years. But the idea of going through the familiar process without her there, without her steady hands and calming presence, made your chest feel tight.
You heard the water stop, the shower shutting off with a quick squeak of the faucet, and moments later, the sound of Alexia padding back down the hallway reached your ears. She didn’t stop this time either—just a quick, tired, "I’ll be in bed," tossed over her shoulder as she headed straight to the bedroom.
You sat there for a long time after she disappeared. Long enough for the apartment to fall into a deep silence, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The case still sat on the table, staring back at you, waiting.
It wasn’t just the injection. It wasn’t just about the needle piercing your skin, or the act itself. It was what it represented. It was about the growing distance between the two of you, the way it felt like you were slipping further and further apart with each passing day. You didn’t want to feel like you were losing her, but you did. And what scared you most was the thought that she didn’t even realize it.
You rubbed your palms over your face, trying to shake the thoughts away. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe, if you waited long enough, Alexia would come back out, sit beside you, and everything would go back to how it used to be. You could hear her voice in your head, soothing and gentle: I’m here, cariño. I’m always here.
But tonight, she wasn’t.
And that thought was enough to leave you sitting in silence, the weight of the injection case heavier than it had ever been.
You sat there for what felt like an eternity, the silence in the apartment growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked toward the bedroom. The weight of the black case felt like an anchor dragging behind you, each step a reminder of the challenge ahead.
When you entered the bedroom, the dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over Alexia, who was already half-buried under the covers. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the ache in your chest pushed you forward. You needed to talk to her. You needed her help.
You approached the bed slowly, the quiet creak of the floorboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. “Alexia,” you said softly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Can we talk for a second?”
Alexia stirred, blinking sleepily as she turned toward you. She looked up, her expression a mix of confusion and fatigue. Without waiting for a full response, she leaned in and pressed a quick, tender kiss to your lips. The gesture was familiar and comforting, but it felt rushed, almost automatic.
“Sorry, cariño,” she murmured against your lips, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so tired. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The issue was complicated, and you were too weary to fight for your point. You tried to start again, but your voice was barely a murmur, lost amidst the tangled blankets and Alexia’s already retreating sleep.
“Um… I just—” You tried to say, but she had already turned her back slightly, clearly ready to drift off again. “I need your help with…”
But the words wouldn’t come. The term injection seemed to lodge itself in your throat, too difficult to utter. Instead, you stood there feeling small and overwhelmed, the conversation slipping through your fingers like sand.
You sighed deeply, retreating from the bed. The small black case on the coffee table in the living room seemed to mock you now. The thought of trying to manage it yourself filled you with a mix of determination and dread. You had no choice. You needed to handle this on your own.
Returning to the living room, you took a deep breath and retrieved the case. Your hands were trembling as you set it up, the familiar steps feeling foreign and daunting without Alexia’s calming presence. You tried to remember each part of the process, focusing intently as you prepared the syringe.
The first needle prick was sharp and uncomfortable. You winced, struggling to keep your hand steady. The injection was awkward, and you knew it wasn’t going in smoothly. The needle wobbled, and you felt a sharp sting that was far more intense than usual.
When you finally finished, you pulled the needle out, but the skin around the injection site felt sore and swollen. The sensation of an impending bruise began to settle in. You looked at the result, the slight redness and unevenness telling you that it hadn’t gone as smoothly as it should have.
You felt a surge of frustration and sadness. The injection was done, but it had left more than just a physical mark. The emotional weight of it all—trying to manage alone, the growing distance between you and Alexia, the unspoken words—was almost too much to bear.
Sitting down on the edge of the couch, you held your arm and looked around the room, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. You had managed to do it, but it was clear that things needed to change. You needed more than just a quick kiss and a promise to talk tomorrow. You needed to find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between you.
With a heavy heart and a painful bruise forming, you lay down on the couch, trying to push aside the frustration and hurt. As you stared at the ceiling, the quiet of the apartment felt like an echo of your inner turmoil. You were left alone with your thoughts, the ache of the day settling deep into your bones.
The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the curtains in a hazy, indifferent glow. You woke up to find Alexia already up and moving around the apartment, her movements quick and purposeful. It was clear she had another busy day ahead.
You stretched out beneath the covers, trying to muster the energy to join her. As she prepared to leave, you rolled over and reached out for her, hoping to get a few more moments of closeness. “Alexia,” you murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. “Can we—”
She turned to you, her eyes tired but focused. She gave you a faint, distracted smile. “I’m sorry, cariño, but I really need to get going. The team has an early meeting today.”
You tried to pull her closer, wanting to cuddle up to her before she left, but she gently but firmly stepped back. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later, okay?” Her tone was soft but final, and before you could say another word, she was out the door.
You watched her go, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness. It wasn’t that you were trying to be clingy; you just needed more connection, more reassurance. But it seemed like every attempt to bridge the gap was met with increasing distance.
As the day dragged on, you found yourself increasingly withdrawn. You tried to distract yourself with small tasks, but the weight of the previous night and the ongoing tension with Alexia hung over you like a dark cloud. By evening, the thought of going to bed early to escape the pain seemed like the best option.
However, the reminder of your injection brought you back to reality. The small black case sat on the coffee table, taunting you with its presence. You had hoped Alexia would be home in time to help you, but she had texted you a brief message around 7 PM—“Hey, still at the club. Things are running behind. I’ll be home late. Miss you.”
You stared at the screen, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. You missed her too, but the text felt impersonal compared to the support you really needed. You glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and you knew you couldn’t put off the injection any longer.
You tried to psych yourself up, determined to handle it alone this time. But as you fumbled with the needle and the syringe, the anxiety and discomfort from the previous attempt came rushing back. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and your attempts at administering the injection were clumsy and painful.
After several failed attempts and tears of frustration, you felt a growing sense of despair. You couldn’t do it. The pain was too much, and the thought of another bruise or worse was overwhelming. You sat on the couch, feeling defeated and helpless.
In a moment of desperation, you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you found Alba’s number. Your fingers hovered over the screen, and then you pressed the call button. The phone rang, and as you listened to it ring, you felt a lump forming in your throat.
“Hello?” Alba’s voice answered, calm and soothing.
“It’s me,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—I need help. I can’t do it. I’m so sorry to call you, but—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Alba interrupted gently. “I’m on my way.”
When Alba arrived, she looked at you with a mix of worry and determination. You led her to the living room, where the black injection case was waiting on the coffee table. Her eyes fell on your bruised arm, and she winced.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.
“I tried to do it myself,” you said, your voice trembling. “It didn’t go well. I know it’s not right, but Alexia’s been so busy, and I didn’t want to bother her.”
Alba nodded, her expression resolute. “Alright, let’s figure this out. I’ve never done this before, but we’ll get through it.”
You took a deep breath, trying to remember how Alexia used to do it. “Okay, so you need to… first, clean the area with an alcohol swab. And then you have to make sure the needle is ready, and…”
Your words came out in a rush, filled with a mix of anxiety and desperation. Alba listened carefully, trying to follow your instructions as best as she could. You could hear her taking deep breaths, her voice steady despite the situation.
“Alright, I’ve got the swab and the syringe,” Alba said, her tone more confident now. “Just talk me through the rest.”
As you guided her, you felt a mixture of relief and tension. Alba was doing her best to stay calm, but you could hear the slight tremor in her voice. It was evident she was nervous, but she was trying not to let it show.
“You’ve got this,” you said softly, trying to reassure both her and yourself. “Just remember to be gentle and to get it in quickly.”
Alba nodded, her hands steadying as she prepared the needle. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”
You guided her through the final steps, your heart racing with every movement. When she finally managed to complete the injection, you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing.
As Alba finished the injection, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders slowly begin to ease. She gave you a reassuring smile before heading out, promising to check in later. You sank into the couch, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. Despite the relief from the injection, the emotional strain was heavy.
The weight of it all was too much. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and drifted off to sleep on the couch, hoping that tomorrow would bring some clarity and resolution.
A few hours later, the soft click of the front door woke you. You stirred, groggy and disoriented, as the familiar sound of Alexia’s footsteps filled the apartment. She must have come in quietly to avoid disturbing you. You squinted, struggling to sit up as she entered the living room.
Alexia paused when she saw you on the couch, her eyes immediately landing on the bruise on your arm. Her expression shifted from tiredness to concern as she approached you. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep here.”
You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.”
Alexia’s gaze flicked to the black case on the coffee table, the remnants of Alba’s visit still visible. It was then that a flicker of realization crossed her face. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she took in the situation—the injection kit, the bruise on your arm, the signs of distress etched into your features.
“Oh dios mio,” she murmured, her voice breaking with a mix of guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”
Her hand reached out to gently touch your arm, and the softness of her touch was both comforting and heartbreaking. “I should have been here for you. I didn’t know it was this bad.”
You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and lingering hurt. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been so busy, and I thought… I thought I could manage on my own.”
Alexia shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No, you shouldn’t have had to. I should have been paying attention. I should have been here.”
As the days passed, the efforts Alexia made to mend the rift between you were deeply moving. The grand gestures, the thoughtful surprises, and the sincere apologies helped to heal some of the wounds, but rebuilding trust was a journey that needed both time and patience.
You had forgiven her. The love you felt for her hadn't wavered; it was simply shadowed by the hurt of her absence and the loneliness you had felt. Forgiveness was a step forward, but you knew that true healing required more than just saying the words. It meant working together to rebuild the trust that had been fractured.
You began to talk openly about your feelings, your fears, and your needs. It was a new kind of dialogue for both of you, one that involved vulnerability and honesty. Alexia listened with an open heart, her understanding growing with each conversation. You both acknowledged that communication had faltered, but you were committed to changing that.
One evening, as you sat together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, you found a moment of clarity. “Alexia,” you said softly, “I’ve forgiven you, but it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust. I need us to keep working on this, to communicate better and to be there for each other.”
Alexia nodded, her eyes filled with both sadness and determination. “I understand. I’m committed to working on this with you. I want to make things right, and I want us to be stronger than before.”
Her words were a balm to your wounded heart. The sincerity in her voice and the effort she was putting into making things right made a world of difference. You could see how much she wanted to be the partner you deserved, and that gave you hope for the future.
That night, as you lay in bed, Alexia held you close. The warmth of her embrace was a reminder of how much she cared, and it seemed to envelop you both in a cocoon of love and safety. You felt her breathing become uneven, and when you looked up, you saw tears glistening in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m so grateful that you still choose me, that you’re willing to work through this with me.”
Her tears fell softly onto your shoulder as she held you tightly, her emotion raw and genuine. You could feel the weight of her remorse and her overwhelming love. The sight of her crying, holding you with such deep gratitude, was both heartbreaking and reassuring.
“You’re my everything,” she continued, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for giving us a chance, for choosing to be with me despite everything.”
You held her tightly, feeling her tears mix with your own. “We’ll get through this together,” you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. “I believe in us, and I believe in our future.”
In that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past began to dissolve. The trust that needed rebuilding was a journey, but you both knew that with love, effort, and open communication, you could create a stronger, more resilient bond. Alexia’s overwhelming love and gratitude were a testament to the depth of her feelings, and it filled you with a renewed sense of hope and commitment for the days ahead.
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becomingmina · 10 months ago
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How they would react to Y/N being clumsy/ embarrassed during... smut w/ SKZ hyung line 18+ only mdni.
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How they would react to Y/N being clumsy/ embarrassed during sex w/ hyung line:
Bang Chan/Chris:
“Channie..” you say climbing onto your boyfriend’s lap.
He was sat on the couch, definitely teasing you by the way he is all spread out - legs wide apart, the tent in his sweats visibly on display for you. It was so welcoming, so perfect for you to sit on.
You start to press little pretty kisses to his face, showering him with affection but it soon turns into a heated make out session. His big hands are now gripping your hips helping you hump his erection.
You wanted more, you needed him inside you and the only way you were able to get what you want is if you cum first desperately like this.
You gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes as you continue to rub against him, getting closer to your climax. You lean back as you feel your orgasm approaching. It hit you hard, your fingers left dents his skin as your hips move rapidly to extend your wave of pleasure.
“Careful!" Chan says as you lean back further, losing your balance. You were glad your boyfriend was sane, quickly grabbing your waist before you fell. Your arms quickly wrapped around his shoulder as you scared yourself.
You sat in silence, hiding your face in his neck in embarrassment. He lightly chuckles to himself before nudging you to look up at him.
“Tell me what's going on in here? My dumb little girl,” he asks as he taps your head with his finger.
“I— um,” you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
“You climbed on me remember?”
“I thought we were in the bed.. and you usually get on top after so I leaned back.. naturally and.. I don’t want to talk about it,” you stuttered closing your eyes so you don’t witness him laughing.
“Don’t be embarrassed. You are so cute,” he presses a kiss to your cheek.
“Here let me take care of you, baby girl,” he shuffled about on the couch so he can ace you in your back, ripping your shorts off you.
Lee Minho/ Lee Know:
“My body is covered in marks,” he chuckles softly as you continue to suck lightly at his skin.
There were already hickeys scattered around his chest, his neck, all over his body. There was way too many to count with one hand but you couldn’t stop. He tasted way too addictive, you were hooked.
“God, you’re so horny,” he scoffed, as his hands come to help guide your hips.
You don’t know what happened but it flipped a switch in you, you were desperate to cum now. Your lips move from his collarbone to latch onto the skin of his neck, right there his pulse was.
You start to feel your orgasm approaching and you lightly sink your teeth into his skin.
"Owww..." you heard Minho mumbles quietly but you don’t stop. Instead you have the urge to use more force, biting down on his skin as you cum hard.
“Baby! Shit—” you hear him suck in a sharp breathe and his hands powerfully halts your hips. You finally pull away, sitting up as you come to realise what you had just done.
"Tsk!” He click his tongue, one hand coming up to apply pressure on the area you just bit. “Kitten you're going to draw my blood one day,” he says sternly, shooting his dark eyes up at you.
“I'm sorry,” your eyes start to fill with tears at his tone. You get off him and pull him to he sit up. Your hand comes up ontop of his adding a little more force, trying to soothe the sting. “Are you okay Min?” You felt so guilty you hurting him.
“You hurt me!” he hates to lash out like this but the pain was still there, it hurt him a lot.
“I’m sorry Min. I’m sorry. I’ll get some ice,” you couldn’t even look him in the eye, jumping off the bed but he stopped you.
He feels bad at your reaction, he knows you it was an accident. You were never this clumsy in bed and maybe your pleasure just got the best of you.
“Next time be careful, okay?” He says gently to reassure you, pulling back on top of him. “Did you cum though, kitten?”
You nod with pink cheeks, feeling fucking guilty.
“I didn’t though,” he smirked. You know the perfect way to make up for it.
Seo Changbin:
“You’re doing do well,” Changbin praises you as you ride him.
You usually don’t top, only because you want to be his little pillow princess and also because Changbin was a freak in bed. You much rather let him have his way with you since he was so good at it.
But today he made it a big issue wanting to see your boobs jiggle as you bounce on him. As embarrassed as it is for you to top, you can never say no to your sweet boyfriend.
Your legs were aching now, you’ve tried multiple positions now but he hadn’t cum yet. You kept going, trying your hardest to keep it up but you were exhausted, you were sweaty. The heat on this Sunday afternoon was extremely intense as well making you dizzy. Your hips start to slow down and Changbin notices your disorientation state as you shut your eyes.
“Hey hey hey baby?” He says sitting up to hold you as you fall forwards onto him head hitting his shoulder. You were out. He grasped your face, tapping your cheeks to wake you up.
You opened your eyes and realised what you had done. You passed out while riding you boyfriend, how embarrassing.
“Hey? You okay?” Changbin combs through your hair but you don’t answer him, you were too embarrassed. “Why didn’t you stop?”
“I wanted you to cum first,” you replied, diverting your eyes somewhere else.
“Silly girl,” he giggles before lifting you by your waist from him. “Lay here, I’ll get you some water,” you lie on the bed as per his instructions but then turn on your stomach, burying your face in the bed letting out a big sigh. Changbin smiles to himself before turning you back over.
“Don’t be shy, it’s okay baby,” he presses a kiss you your lips. “Let me get water and we can do whatever you want, okay?” He says looking down at his still hard on.
Hwang Hyunjin:
“You like that?” Hyunjin smirked at you, two fingers deep in you. You were on display for him, naked all spread out on his lap in the drivers seat of his car.
“If you keep going… I might squirt on you, baby boy..” you stuttered, trying your hardest to hold back.
“I want to see it,” he cheekily remarks, riling you up.
“Hyunjin.. ahh ahhh- it’s too much,” you cried as he continues to pump his fingers inside you. The noises your pussy was making was like music to him, he wanted to hear more. He couldn't forget your scent too, how it filled the space of his tiny car.
“Come on.. spray me with your juices.. Doll, you smell so yummy, wanna lap up all your wetness,” he eggs you on, his free hand comes to rub your clits as his finger that was inside you curled hitting the spot.
"Ahh—" you moaned as you feel your juice squirting out of you. Your eyes was close, you bit your bottom lip as pleasure washes over you.
You leaned back still squirting all over him as your elbow pressed the horn of his steering wheel scaring you. Your body buckles forward, shaking from your orgasm and the scare as you hold onto Hyunjin. The honk catches him off guard making him flustered but your reaction was too cute for him to react.
“Ha— fuck you’re so cute,” he says holding you tightly to ease your little heart. “Did you just scared yourself mid your orgasm?” You nod at his question, squirming in his arms.
“You’re so cute, thank god my dash cam recorded it,” he teased trying to lift your face up.
"No, Hyunjin, you can’t watch it back," you chuckle at your own reaction.
"Why? My pretty girl embarrassed?" he continues to taunt you.
"Don’t be, it was cute..." he presses a kiss to your forehead then examining the situation. His shirt, his seat and even part of his window was covered in your wetness. "Fuck we’re soaked, baby."
Maknae line here 💌
{Notes: Not proof read. Something quick before I head out. Makenae line coming up soon 🙂 I wanted to add some explicit pics from mangas but I thought it was too much. Do you guys want to see anime titties? lmao}
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sanguineterrain · 1 year ago
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in your hands | jason todd
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Summary: Jason thinks he's too big to be loved. You show him that that's impossible.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings/tags: bathing together, sad jason, brief dissociation, i hc jason to have body dysmorphia and i wanted to explore that, non sexual nudity, washing your partner, bruce angst, hopeful ending.
A/N: as always, if you like this fic, tell me through comments and reblogs :)
the divider
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Tonight, Jason comes home far away.
You clock it as soon as he walks in. He’s moving on autopilot: boots by the door, helmet on the shelf, gear in the closet. He washes his hands, hangs up his jacket, and then he stands at the doorway. And waits. 
You’re never quite sure what he’s waiting for. But you know that he’ll stay stuck in his head if you don’t step in. 
“Hey, baby,” you say, cupping his cheeks. “Hey. You wanna eat or clean up first?”
The change is instant. As soon as you touch him, Jason is there. You’ve never mentioned it to him. It frightens you too much to explore, knowing that you’re his tether. You don’t want to think about what that means, having the power to anchor a man who used to be dead.
He looks at you, meets your gaze head-on.
“Did I disappear?” he whispers.
“Little bit. It’s okay.”
You keep stroking his cheeks, avoiding his shaving cuts and the freshly split lip. There’s a bruise around his eye and on his temple. 
“Wanna wash up,” he finally says, but his hands cling to your waist. 
You pet the back of his neck. “Want me to go with you?” 
“Please?” He glances at the kitchen. “But if you’re in the middle ‘f something, then—”
“No, Jay. C’mon.”
You take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom. Jason undresses while you draw a bath. Soon the bathroom starts to fog up with steam. You pour in some Epsom salts for his muscle aches—you know he should soak more than he does. 
You turn off the faucet. Jason is in his boxers, staring at himself in the mirror. He picks at his autopsy scar, presses the puckered white flesh until it turns red. 
“Jay,” you say gently. “C’mere, honey.”
His hands drop to his sides. Jason goes to the bath, pulls off his underwear, and sinks into the water. It’s a generously-sized tub. Jason had gotten his old tub replaced for a larger one after you’d mentioned that you liked baths. Soon enough, you’d introduced him to the wonders of hot baths for his sore muscles. 
Even with its size, Jason still has to bend his knees slightly to fit. He pushes himself up easily. A little water sloshes over and dampens the edge of your shirt. Jason curses.
“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. 
“It’s okay, honey. You want me to come in?”
He nods. You pull off your shirt, then your pants and underwear. Jason folds in on himself to make room, but you stop him.
“I’ll just sit between your legs, Jay. No problem.”
You step into the bath. Jason holds your wrist so you can sit down without slipping. He stares at his hand on your arm after you’ve sat. 
You reach over for a washcloth and pour a lightly-scented soap. You lather it up first, then rub it over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Jason is perfectly still. 
“Can you lean over, baby? So I can get your back.”
Jason obediently leans over. You smile at him as he holds himself up with his core. You know Jason’s not just strong, that he’s agile too. He’s very good at wielding his body.
You wash his back. This close, you can see the contours of his muscles, how broad he is. 
When you’re done, you wring the soap out of the cloth and cup water in your palms to rinse the suds off of his skin. You catch his gaze in the mirror across the tub. Jason turns his head.
“God, look at me. How are you not afraid every time I come stompin’ around?”
You stop pouring water and rest your hands on Jason’s biceps. “What do you mean?”
He scoffs. “I’m like a huge, fuckin’... monster. Too big, too loud. I’m—” He swallows, bows his head. “How can you look at me?”
“Jay, honey. You’re not a monster.”
“Bruce thinks so,” he whispers, and straightens. “He can barely look at me. Every time he does, ‘s like he doesn’t even recognize me.”
His hand quietly swishes through the water to claw at his autopsy scar. 
“This is all I am. Just violence. ‘M too big for anything else.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and pull his head into your chest. Jason hugs you back. His shoulders begin to shake. 
“You’re more than your body,” you say. “You’re more than what the Pit made you. What you were.”
He shakes and cries into your neck. “I was small. People loved me when I was small.”
You pick up his head. Jason’s eyes are thick with tears. You lean in and kiss his Cupid’s bow.
“I love you.” You brush away his tears with your lips. “I love you so much, Jay. That’ll never change.”
“Too big for it,” he rasps.
You shake your head. “No, Jaybird. You’re never too big to be loved.”
“I’m s-scary.”
You kiss his temple, rub between his shoulder blades. Jason clings tighter.
“You don’t scare me. You never have.”
He pulls you closer, so you’re chest-to-chest. You straddle his stomach with your legs and hug Jason as tightly as you can. 
“I was good when I was small,” he says. “I don’t–I don’t know how to be good anymore. I wanna be good, I do. I don’t want Bruce to think I’m bad. I’m still good.”
You take a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, Jay. Baby. You are good. You came back to make a change. You’ve always been good. You’ve got a good heart. Nothing’s going to change that. Bruce is stubborn and stuck in his head. But you’ll always be his son. And you’ll always have people who love you.”
“What if I’m not worth it?” he whispers. “What if I’m too lost?”
“Then I’ll go out and find you. And we’ll come home together,” you say. “You’ll always find your way back home.”
He smells like soap and Epsom salts. You kiss his autopsy scar. Jason shakes more. 
“Let me wash your hair, baby,” you say.
He nods, tears on his lashes. You wet his hair and pour shampoo. You rest your lips on his cheek as you lather the shampoo, detangling tiny knots with your fingers. Jason bends at the waist so you can rinse off the soap with the faucet.
You tap his hip and Jason sits up. He slips his arms around you again and tucks his chin into your neck.
“Don’t let go,” he says, suddenly desperate. “Don’t–don’t let me go.”
“I won’t, Jay. I’m right here.”
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rafesapologist · 2 months ago
Text
strangers ─ drew starkey; ch. 2
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summary: getting casted on outer banks threw you into overnight stardom, and an unforeseeable off-screen romance with one of hollywood's newest and biggest heartthrobs.
warnings: unedited, tension (kind of)
author's note: the info in this story about drew is mostly made up!! some of these scenarios and 'facts' are not things that have happened in real life, this is all merely part of the plot of the story.
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As if the expectations of being cast onto one of the biggest shows wasn't enough, you were in for the surprise of your life when your manager called and told you that the directors wanted you to start spending time off-screen with your soon-to-be co-star.
"They think it'll make the chemistry on the show more believable if you guys get to know each other more in real life," Kendra sighed and you could practically hear her shrug over the phone.
"Okay?" You responded with a subtle temperament in your tone that went ignored by your manager, "I auditioned for the show, not to become some PR stunt for ratings." You rebutted firmly, crossing your arms as if it made your testament any more earnest.
"Not PR, just friends. If you're gonna work with somebody for who knows how long, you need to at least be acquainted with them," she reaffirmed blithely and you could hear her light up another cigarette over the line, as if her raucous smoker's voice wasn't prominent enough already.
"Then what are we supposed to do that doesn't make it look like we're dating? Cause anything we do is gonna draw attention," you asked, pointing out the burning question in your mind. Drew was a rising star in Hollywood, and it didn’t take much for the media to latch onto any spark of gossip, let alone the proximity between two co-stars. You could already imagine the headlines—"New Romance on Set?" or "Chemistry Beyond the Screen?"—flashing across tabloids, fueling rumors neither of you had any control over. The mere thought made your stomach twist, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the pull of curiosity.
"I don’t know, just grab lunch, go over lines, anything normal," Kendra responded with a casualness that felt at odds with the gravity of the situation. "The point is to make you two comfortable around each other, not to stage some fake romance. But hey, if the chemistry works out in your favor, it's not a bad thing, right?" Her tone was light, but you could sense the subtle hint of persuasion.
You bit your lip, considering the reality of it. Drew—charming, talented, and devastatingly handsome—had already made an impression during the audition, and though his professional demeanor had been disarming, you couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of tension that had crackled between you both. But off-screen was a different game altogether, one where your vulnerability wasn’t masked by a script or camera angles. The idea of spending more time with him outside the confines of rehearsals left you feeling exposed in a way you weren’t sure you were ready for.
"Fine, I’ll do it. But if this turns into some media circus, you owe me a long vacation after this project is over," you finally agreed, letting out a deep breath that didn’t quite ease the knot in your chest.
Kendra laughed, the sound raspy yet full of amusement. "Deal. Besides, you never know what might happen. Worst-case scenario, you make a new friend, right?"
But even as you nodded, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this arrangement than just bonding over scripts and coffee. Drew's name carried weight, and being linked to him—professionally or otherwise—was bound to stir something bigger than either of you could control. And for a brief moment, you wondered if it was the career boost you’d always needed, or a risk you weren’t prepared to take.
"Alright," Kendra continued, breaking the silence. "I’ll set something up. Keep your schedule open for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" You almost choked on the word, your pulse quickening at how soon this was all happening.
"Yep. No time like the present." Kendra’s voice was cheerful, almost too cheerful. "You’ve got this, kid. Trust me."
The call ended before you could protest, leaving you standing alone in your apartment, staring at your phone. You sighed, running a hand through your hair as the reality of tomorrow loomed over you. There was no backing out now, no escaping what was already set into motion.
You treaded over to your fridge, the soft hum of it the only sound in your quiet apartment. Pulling out the bottle of sangria you’d been saving for a special occasion—though right now felt more like an emergency—you unscrewed the cap with a small sigh of relief. The deep, ruby liquid swirled into the stemware glass, filling it halfway as you watched the dark red hues glisten under the dim kitchen light.
It wasn’t a celebration, not yet, but it was something—a moment to collect yourself before you plunged headfirst into whatever tomorrow would bring. You took a slow sip, letting the sweet, tangy taste linger on your tongue, savoring the small comfort it provided. The cool glass felt grounding in your hand, a quiet contrast to the chaos spinning in your mind.
With your hands pressed firmly against the cool countertop, your head hung low as you silently questioned how you ended up in this whirlwind of events. The soft buzz of your phone broke the stillness, pulling you back to reality. You glanced at the screen, and there it was—a text from Kendra.
"I talked to Drew’s managers, they said he suggested having lunch tomorrow at 2. I'll have a driver booked for you around 1:30."
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest, the words sinking in as you scanned the message over and over. Tomorrow. Lunch. With Drew. And with little to no time to prepare, your anxiety came to life, flooding your mind with a thousand what-ifs.
You stood there, staring at your phone, trying to piece together how you were supposed to handle this. Drew seemed perfectly polite at the chemistry read—cordial even—but one-on-one? Would he be the same, or was that all just an act for the directors?
Your mind raced through every worst-case scenario like a rapid-fire slideshow: what if your mind went blank, and you sat there fumbling for words like an awkward mess? What if you somehow got food stuck in your teeth, making a fool of yourself in front of him? Or worse yet, what if he wasn’t the nice guy he seemed to be? What if Drew, the rising star with all that charisma on-screen, turned out to be an arrogant asshole in real life?
The swirling thoughts made your stomach churn as you stood in the quiet of your kitchen, your fingers gripping the counter tighter. It felt like the universe was pulling you into something far beyond your control, leaving you standing on the edge of tomorrow, unprepared and vulnerable.
You gulped down the remainder of your wine, feeling its chill cascade down your throat, sending a fleeting shiver through your chest. The slight buzz gave you a brief surge of energy, enough to momentarily push aside the weight of tomorrow’s uncertainty. In that brief spark of clarity, an idea—unusual but oddly practical—struck you.
Without hesitation, you darted over to the couch, grabbed your laptop, and flipped it open with renewed purpose. The glow of the screen illuminated your face as you typed in the familiar search bar. But your focus wavered for a moment as the homepage tempted you with random recommendations—cooking tutorials, music videos, travel vlogs—each one a distraction you almost fell for.
You shook your head, quickly typing in the search: Drew Starkey.
As soon as you hit enter, the screen flooded with clips of interviews, behind-the-scenes footage, and fan-made compilations of your soon-to-be co-star.. You clicked on the first interview, your heart picking up pace as his face appeared on screen. There he was—laughing, smiling, completely at ease in front of the camera. His presence was magnetic, the same kind of charm you witnessed during the chemistry read, but now you were analyzing him in a different light. You weren’t watching an actor—no, you were trying to get to know the man behind the character.
Each video you watched painted a picture of Drew’s personality, his mannerisms, the way he laughed mid-sentence, his casual but thoughtful way of answering questions. It was easy to see why he’d become such a rising star. He had that effortless charisma that made him seem approachable yet untouchable all at once.
As you watched one of his MTV interviews, something about a particular one shifted your perspective. Drew was talking about his methods for diving into a character—how he found little pieces of himself in each role and let that guide his performance. But it wasn’t just the professional insight that caught your attention; it was the casual, almost vulnerable tone of his voice as he spoke about his life beyond acting.
He talked about college, how he had balanced classes and part-time jobs, how uncertain he’d felt back then—just like anyone else trying to figure out their future. He laughed about the odd jobs he worked before landing his first big role, like waiting tables and doing temp work. It was such a stark contrast to the larger-than-life persona the media often painted around actors. In that moment, Drew wasn’t just the rising star you'd auditioned with; he was a regular guy who had worked hard to get where he was.
Suddenly, the looming anxiety of tomorrow’s lunch didn’t seem as unbearable. If anything, the idea of talking to him felt almost comforting. You realized he was probably more grounded than you gave him credit for—despite the fame, despite the rising spotlight. It was refreshing, and it put a part of your mind at ease. You’d been so caught up in the idea of him as a powerful actor, you hadn’t considered that, like you, he might just be navigating this career with a sense of uncertainty, too.
You closed the laptop and leaned back, exhaling a long breath. Maybe tomorrow would be more casual than you imagined—just two people talking, finding their rhythm, building that off-screen chemistry in the same way you had in front of the directors. For the first time, the thought of sitting across from Drew didn’t feel like a storm waiting to hit. Instead, it felt manageable. And maybe, just maybe, it would even be enjoyable.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
“Seriously, Kendra, what should I wear?” you huffed, your phone perched precariously on the edge of your bed as you sifted through the chaos of your closet. Fabrics of every texture spilled over your arms as you frantically flipped through hangers, eyeing each piece with increasing frustration. Nothing felt right. You didn’t want to come off like you’d tried too hard, but showing up looking too casual to lunch with Drew Starkey didn’t feel right either.
“It’s just lunch, Y/N,” Kendra's voice came through the phone, nonchalant and steady as usual. “Just dress like you normally would. No need to overthink it.”
You paused, clutching an emerald green blouse in one hand, a simple beige sundress in the other. “But what if I show up looking like a total slob, or worse, like I’m trying too hard? I don’t want him to think I’m one of those actors.”
Kendra sighed on the other end, and you could practically see her lighting another cigarette in her usual blasé way. “Look, you already met him. He’s seen you act. It’s not a pageant, it’s lunch. Just wear something you feel comfortable in and go be yourself. You’ve already impressed him—trust me, your wardrobe is the least of anyone’s concerns.”
She made it sound so simple, but the weight of it all still sat heavy on your chest. You weren’t just meeting up with Drew Starkey; you were being thrown into this situation with someone whose presence alone had enough gravity to throw you off balance. Even though he’d been polite, kind, even reassuring at the chemistry read, today felt different. More personal, more exposed. What if you said the wrong thing? Or worse, what if there was nothing to say at all?
Your eyes landed on the black sundress, a light fabric that flowed in all the right ways—comfortable, but still enough to make you feel put-together. You plucked it off the hanger and held it up in front of the mirror, examining its soft, understated elegance.
“Okay, okay, I think I found something,” you said, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “A sundress. It’s casual, right?”
“Perfect,” Kendra replied, almost as if she wasn’t really paying attention. “Remember, Y/N, this is supposed to be easy. You’re overthinking it. Just go, have lunch, talk. You’ve got nothing to prove to him—you’re already Maisy.”
You nodded at her words, trying to absorb her confidence. “Yeah, I know… You’re right. I’ll text you after, okay?”
“Good luck, kid. Don’t sweat it.”
The call ended, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The room suddenly felt too quiet, and you found yourself staring at the sundress again, smoothing out the wrinkles. Kendra was right—this wasn’t an audition, not anymore. It was just lunch. But the thought of being alone with Drew Starkey for more than five minutes made your stomach flutter with anticipation.
It was already 1:30 before you knew it, and the driver was waiting outside your apartment complex just as Kendra had promised. You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection, the black sundress clinging to your figure in a way that made you feel both presentable and oddly exposed. The sun streamed in through the windows, casting golden streaks across the floor, but all you could feel was the thrum of nervous energy buzzing through your veins.
You took a deep breath, throwing your bag over your shoulder as you prepared to step out the door. But just as your hand touched the doorknob, an impulse hit you, a wild flicker of hesitation. One more thing, you thought, as if something—anything—could make the looming lunch with Drew feel more manageable.
Without a second thought, you turned back and hurried over to the fridge. The cold hum of the appliance felt almost calming as you pulled out a bottle of liquor, the glass cool beneath your fingers. You reached for the shot glass on the counter, the one you hadn’t touched in weeks, and quickly poured yourself a small measure of liquid courage.
With a swift motion you knocked back the shot. The bitter burn hit your throat like fire, and you winced as it traveled down your chest, leaving a searing heat in its wake. The burn did nothing to dull the nervous energy that coiled in your stomach, but it brought with it a flash of warmth—maybe just enough to get you out the door.
You set the glass down with a clink, exhaling sharply. Okay. Just get this over with.
The city noise hummed in the background as you locked the door behind you, your heels clicking softly against the floor as you descended the stairs. By the time you stepped outside, the black SUV was already waiting, sleek and ominous, like a portal to the unknown. The driver glanced up at you from his phone, offering a quick nod as you approached.
This was it. You were about to spend the next hour or so sitting across from Drew Starkey, face to face, with no script to guide you. Just conversation—easy, simple conversation. You repeated the words like a mantra in your mind as the driver opened the door for you, and you slid into the backseat.
The drive to the coffee shop felt like a blur, as though time had folded in on itself. Twenty minutes passed in what felt like mere moments, your mind a carousel of spiraling thoughts. Each new scenario played out in flashes—awkward silences, fumbling over your words, or worse, making a terrible first impression. You barely noticed the city streets, the buildings slipping by as your pulse quickened.
Before you knew it, the car slowed to a stop. You glanced out the window and felt a jolt in your chest—the café stood before you, quaint and modern with wide, floor-to-ceiling windows that seemed to strip away all your defenses. You could already imagine Drew inside, perhaps sipping on his coffee, glancing up to see you through the glass. The thought made your stomach flip.
Your driver stepped out and came around to open the door for you, his gentle nod barely registering as you mumbled a quiet "thank you" and handed him a tip. As your feet touched the ground, the sunlight was warmer than you'd anticipated, but it did nothing to chase away the cold wave of anxiety coursing through your veins.
You stood there for a moment, frozen in place as you stared at the entrance of the shop. The cheerful chatter and soft clinking of cups inside only heightened your nerves. You could feel your heart beating harder, faster, each step toward the door a battle against your own hesitation.
He’s just a person, you reminded yourself, trying to quell the panic rising in your throat. But it didn’t feel that simple. Drew Starkey, with his effortless charm and natural presence, was far from just a person in your eyes. This wasn’t a screen test or a scripted scene; this was real, and the vulnerability of it all felt like stepping into a spotlight with no lines to recite.
Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down the front of your dress, squaring your shoulders as you approached the door. The reflection in the glass showed a version of yourself that seemed far more composed than you felt inside.
The moment you stepped through the door, it hit you—a wave of vulnerability like never before. The cozy warmth of the café felt stifling, too intimate, too exposing. Every eye seemed like it could be on you, but none more so than the one pair you hadn’t yet found. Your heart thudded in your chest, your breath quickened as your gaze darted around the room, desperate for a familiar face.
Heat flooded your cheeks, and you prayed Drew hadn’t noticed your awkward search. You fidgeted with your purse, shifting it from one shoulder to the other in a vain attempt to appear more casual, less like a deer caught in headlights. Your arms instinctively crossed in front of you, a small shield against the sudden discomfort that surged through your veins.
Your eyes swept over the café, landing on tables filled with groups of friends, couples huddled in cozy corners, and lone patrons with their noses in books or laptops. And then—thank God—there he was. A tall figure with broad shoulders, his back to the door, sitting by the window.
Drew.
Relief rushed through you, as if finding him tethered you back to reality. He was alone, his posture relaxed, almost casual, as if this was just another day for him. You took a slow breath, allowing yourself a second to gather what remained of your composure. The butterflies in your stomach still fluttered, but at least now you had a destination, a focus that made the swirling anxieties just a little more bearable.
With as much confidence as you could muster, you made your way toward him, every step feeling like it stretched on forever.
"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you approached the table. You pulled out the chair opposite him, your nerves fluttering beneath your skin. "Thanks for taking the time to do this. I know you're probably super busy." The words left your lips with a quiet, breathy chuckle, an attempt to mask the awkwardness that clung to you like a shadow.
Drew looked up from his coffee, his eyes warm and inviting, as if to assure you that there was no need for nerves. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he shook his head. "Actually, I have this week off before we start filming season 4," he explained with an easy laugh, his thumbs tracing the rim of his cup absentmindedly. "I needed to get out of the house anyway."
You laughed softly at his comment, reaching for one of the menus to give yourself a brief moment of reprieve from his gaze. Drew straightened in his chair, the subtle movement drawing your attention just before he cleared his throat.
“So, how did you get into acting?” His question was direct, almost startlingly so, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made you feel suddenly seen—too seen. You weren’t used to such earnestness from someone you'd only just met, but in a way, it was a relief. At least he wasn’t skirting around small talk.
You shifted in your seat, caught off guard by his boldness, but grateful all the same. "Uh, well..." You started, your fingers tightening around the menu. "I was in college for a while, studying psychology, but..." You hesitated, glancing down as if the table could offer some solace. Opening up so quickly wasn’t something you were accustomed to, especially with someone like him. Still, there was something disarming in the way he listened, waiting for you to continue.
"It didn’t feel right," you confessed quietly, your voice softening. "I always had this dream of becoming an actress, ever since I was a kid. So, eventually, I just... dropped out and moved to L.A." You let the words hang there, reluctant but honest. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to lay your cards on the table like this, but it seemed to happen naturally with him in that moment.
Drew’s gaze never wavered from you, his attention unwavering in a way that both flattered and unnerved you. You weren’t used to being the center of someone’s focus like this, especially not someone with his kind of presence. But his expression was kind, reassuring even, and you found some comfort in that.
“There’s no shame in that,” he said with a gentle shrug, his voice warm and understanding. “I took acting in college, but if I had done anything else, I probably would’ve left, too.”
His words brought a flicker of relief to your chest, causing you to sit up a bit straighter. You tilted your head slightly, your eyes tracing over his face, searching for any trace of insincerity but finding none.
“Really?” you asked, a light chuckle escaping your lips. “I don’t think my school even offered that.” You tugged at your bottom lip for a moment, a nervous habit you hadn’t realized you were doing until now. “Besides, I couldn’t have done that anyway. I only went to school because my parents wanted me to. I was basically just trying to make them proud.”
Your confession came out more candidly than you intended, but in the quiet of the café and under Drew’s steady gaze, it felt natural to share. For a moment, you expected him to change the subject, to keep things surface-level, but instead, he continued to pry.
"How did they feel when you came to L.A. to act?"
Your eyes widened slightly at his question, taken aback by his curiosity. It was such a personal, almost mundane topic, yet he was genuinely interested. "They were… wary about it," you replied, your gaze drifting down to the table as you absently picked at your nails. "But they told me they’d support whatever I wanted to do. Though, I’m pretty sure they thought I wouldn’t make it very far, deep down."
You laughed softly, the sound half-hearted, as if trying to ease the seriousness of your own words. You didn’t want to come off as too open or vulnerable so soon, but there was something about his attention that made it difficult to hold back.
Drew didn’t look away. His focus on you never wavered, the intensity of his gaze somehow soft yet unrelenting, making you feel both exposed and heard.
"That’s tough," he murmured, his voice low and reflective. "It’s hard enough chasing something you love, but doing it without knowing if the people who matter most really believe in you… that’s even harder."
His words surprised you. Most people would brush off a confession like that or try to lighten the mood, but Drew leaned in, showing a depth of understanding that made you pause. You glanced back up at him, searching his expression. He wasn’t offering empty sympathy. It was like he genuinely got it.
“Yeah,” you responded quietly, nodding in agreement, “I guess I’ve always had that in the back of my mind, like this little voice telling me I need to prove something.” You hesitated, wondering if you should go deeper, but there was something safe in the atmosphere between you two. “I think that’s why landing this role means so much. It’s not just for me—it’s to show them I wasn’t wrong for following my gut.”
A silence settled between you both after that, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt purposeful, like both of you were letting the weight of your words sink in.
Drew gave a small smile, one that seemed to reach his eyes, softening the intensity of his stare. "Well, I think you’ve already proven that. You nailed the audition, and now here we are. You’re here for a reason."
For a moment, the two of you sat there, enduring a silence that wasn’t awkward, but the tension felt almost suffocating. Drew's gaze lingered on you, so intense that it felt like it was burning through you. Heat rose to your cheeks as his blue eyes seemed to analyze every inch of your face. You wondered if he was searching for flaws, or maybe even finding them. You felt small under his stare, like you wanted to say something to break the tension, but the words wouldn’t come. You were simply speechless under his trance.
"Have you ever taken a role like this?" Drew suddenly asked, breaking the silence as he took a sip of his coffee.
You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "What do you mean?"
"Like playing a love interest," he clarified, his voice calm, almost too casual for the depth of his question. "Have you done that before?"
Your brows furrowed slightly as you processed his words, feeling the weight of them sink in. "No, not really," you replied slowly, your voice quiet but steady. "I’ve done smaller roles, but nothing like this. It’s… new for me."
Drew’s eyes softened, his expression shifting from curiosity to understanding. He nodded as if he expected that answer, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasn’t just asking about acting. There was something deeper to the question, a vulnerability you couldn’t quite place.
"That’s interesting," he said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. "Because it doesn’t seem like it. You handle it like a natural."
His words caught you off guard, the compliment landing heavier than you anticipated. For a second, you weren’t sure if he was still talking about the role or about something else entirely. The air between you thickened again, the tension suffocating, though not entirely uncomfortable. It was the kind of tension that made your heart race, the kind that left you wondering where the line between professional and personal blurred.
"Thanks," you murmured, trying to shake off the growing heat in your chest. You didn’t trust yourself to say more. You could still feel his eyes on you, studying your reaction, and it made your pulse quicken.
“It can be intimidating at first,” he admitted, his tone reassuring as he leaned slightly forward, elbows resting on the table. There was a sincerity in his voice that made you feel at ease, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “But I’ll make sure you’re always comfortable. They can write some pretty crazy plot lines in there, so just let me know if you ever feel uncomfortable doing a scene. I’ll talk to Jonah if I have to.”
His words hit you suddenly, unexpected in their warmth and assertiveness. You paused, lips pursed in contemplation, trying to grasp the significance of his commitment to protect you from any overwhelming scenes. The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken understanding as you wondered if this was the kind of guy he was towards everyone—protective and kind—or if this consideration was reserved solely for you, his co-star.
Regardless of the reason, you felt flattered, a soft blush creeping to your cheeks as a sense of security enveloped you, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. His presence across the table offered a calming reassurance that you hadn’t anticipated.
“Oh, well thank you,” you finally replied, sincerity coloring your voice. “Nobody has ever done that for me.”
There was a moment of silence, and in it, you could see a flicker of understanding pass between you—a shared acknowledgment of what was ahead. His blue eyes held yours with an intensity that made your heart race, as if he was searching for something deeper within you.
“It’s important,” he said softly, his tone earnest. “Acting can be raw and vulnerable. It’s easy to get lost in it all, especially when the emotions run high. I just want to make sure you feel safe.”
You nodded, a swirl of emotions churning within you as you searched for the right words. The moment felt fragile, hanging delicately in the air between you, and you didn’t want to shatter it with any misstep. Yet, the intensity of his demeanor made you feel small and nervous, as if the weight of his gaze was both exhilarating and suffocating.
Breathless, you sat across from him, the man who was still practically a stranger, yet in this moment, it felt as if you had known him for years. There was a strange familiarity in the way he looked at you, a connection that ran deeper than surface-level pleasantries.
“Thank you, Drew,” you finally managed to say, your voice softer than you intended, tinged with sincerity.
His smile widened, a warm and genuine expression that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course. I’d be happy to do that for you,” he admitted, softly biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips, as if caught in a moment of contemplation. It was a fleeting look, but it made your heart race, igniting a mix of anticipation and curiosity within you.
“And I’m sure the rest of the cast will do the same. They’re great to work with,” he added, taking it upon himself to shift the mood, straightening his posture as if shedding the weight of the moment. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the change in direction, yet a part of you understood the necessity of pacing yourself. Maybe diving too deep too soon was better left for later.
“Yeah, I’ve heard great things about them. I’m excited to meet them next,” you replied, attempting to mask your intrigue with enthusiasm.
Drew nodded, his expression brightening as he spoke about the cast. “You’ll love them. We all hang out outside of filming too. It’s like a little family, you know? Makes the long hours much more bearable.”
You giggled slightly at his comment, a lightness in your chest blooming as you absorbed the warmth of his enthusiasm. “Well, I’m honored to now be a part of it,” you joked back, a playful lilt in your voice.
Drew’s eyes sparkled at your smile, the corners of his lips curving upward in a genuine grin that seemed to radiate joy. It was as if your lightheartedness sparked something within him, and for a brief moment, the café around you faded into a backdrop.
“I think you’ll fit right in,” he replied, his tone sincere and warm, and you could sense the unspoken camaraderie beginning to take root between you. It felt refreshing, as if he was offering a piece of reassurance that made going ahead seem a little less daunting.
You felt a surge of confidence at the playfulness in his tone, fueling the conversation further. “And what makes you so sure of that?” you teased, a hint of mischief in your voice, as if daring him to justify his statement.
Drew’s tongue grazed across his teeth as he pondered your question, his blue eyes narrowing slightly in thought. The pause between you was brief, yet charged with a subtle tension, the kind that comes when two people are testing the boundaries of familiarity. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you felt as though he could see right through you.
“You just seem like a likable person,” he replied, his voice soft yet confident, the corners of his mouth lifting in a sly smile. His tone was earnest, but there was something about the way he said it that made your pulse quicken—like he knew more than he was letting on, like he could already sense there was more to you than what lay on the surface.
You couldn’t help but smirk, leaning slightly forward as if to match his energy. “Is that your professional actor assessment?” you quipped, raising a brow, trying to mask the flutter in your chest with humor.
His grin widened as if your playful retort amused him. “Maybe,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair, completely relaxed yet fully engaged. “Or maybe I’m just good at reading people.” His eyes glimmered with something more—an invitation, perhaps, to challenge him further.
Your heart raced slightly as you matched his stare, the game between you intensifying without either of you needing to acknowledge it. You felt emboldened by the easy rapport, as though you could push the conversation anywhere, and it would still feel natural, still flow effortlessly. There was something refreshing about it, and it left you wanting to keep the banter going just a little longer.
“Well, you could be wrong, you know,” you shot back, your voice lilting with amusement. “I could be the least likable person you’ve ever met, and you wouldn’t even know it yet.”
Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Somehow, I seriously doubt that,” he said, his tone low and smooth, leaving just enough mystery in his words to keep you guessing.
“I guess we’ll have to see,” you shrugged nonchalantly, playing into the lighthearted banter. Drew’s eyes sparkled with amusement, as if your coy responses were entertaining him in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Despite the casual nature of the conversation, there was something in the air between you that made it feel deeper, more charged.
He leaned in slightly over the table, his body angled toward you, his presence suddenly filling the small space between you. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something a little more serious, yet still playful, “if we’re going to be working so closely together, why don’t we start hanging out more? It’ll make everything on-screen more believable.”
His suggestion hung in the air, sending your mind reeling. Your initial instinct was to question it—was this about the job or something more? His words seemed casual, but the way he looked at you now, with a sincerity that felt more personal than professional, told you there might be another layer to his offer.
You tilted your head slightly, trying to read him, your lips curling into a small smile. “You think so?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing, leaning just enough into the moment to keep things light, while still acknowledging the subtle tension between you.
Drew’s gaze didn’t falter. “Yeah,” he nodded, his smile widening. “The better we know each other, the easier it’ll be to build that connection on-screen.” He paused for a second, watching your reaction, and then added with a smirk, “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to get to know you a little better off-screen too.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back, trying to keep your cool. You glanced down at your hands for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I guess that makes sense,” you replied, your voice light and playful, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
The suggestion seemed innocent enough on the surface, but the underlying implications—the chance to spend more time together, to see if this chemistry extended beyond the lines you’d be reading—made your pulse race just a little faster.
“Alright,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a shrug, pretending to be more nonchalant than you felt. “Let’s give it a try. See if we can make this whole thing more believable.”
Drew smiled in agreement, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that seemed to settle the tension between you. He opened his mouth, about to say something more, but was interrupted by the soft buzz of his phone lighting up with a text. He glanced down at it briefly before shifting his attention back to you, his smile still faint but genuine.
“It’s been nice getting to know you a little more. I really enjoyed this,” he admitted, his voice sincere. You noticed his gaze flicker toward the window, as though he was checking for something or someone, before returning to you. “Why don’t I give you my number so we can plan something soon?”
Your heart skipped at the casual offer, but you maintained your composure, feeling the air between you both shift into something more comfortable, yet still charged with potential. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied with a small smile, trying to keep things light despite the slight flutter in your chest.
Drew pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen before handing it over to you. You quickly typed in your number, handing it back to him, your fingers brushing briefly as you exchanged devices.
“Great,” he said, locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket, his smile widening. “I’ll text you later, and we can figure something out. Maybe something less... formal,” he added with a playful wink, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Sounds like a plan.”
"I'll see you later, Y/N." Drew’s voice was soft, still carrying that same warmth and kindness that had made you feel so at ease throughout the afternoon. He offered you one last smile before gathering his belongings and heading toward the door.
You watched him as he stepped outside, the sunlight casting a soft glow on him as he made his way to the black SUV parked out front. There was something effortlessly graceful about the way he moved, the casualness of it, yet it left you with a feeling of weightlessness. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered as you saw him disappear into the car, the sound of the engine starting up almost muted by the rush of your thoughts.
The café around you sounded with the usual hum of life, but your mind was far from the present moment. Instead, it replayed every detail of the past hour—the way he had smiled at you, the easy flow of conversation, the unspoken connection that had blossomed between the two of you. You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, the way it made you feel seen in a way that felt both exhilarating and unsettling.
As you sat there, a small smile crept onto your lips. The butterflies in your chest wouldn’t settle, and you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted them to. Something about today had changed things, and as you grabbed your bag and stood up to leave, you realized the anticipation for whatever came next was already beginning to build.
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taglist: @romantic-punch, @cl4uus, @clearpoetryobservation-blog, @willowpains, @simp4f1, @kaiparkerwifes, @cali-888, @allthoughtsmindfull, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account
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benedictscanvas · 11 months ago
Text
pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader
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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3
warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)
---
“Hi love.”
Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 
He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.
Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.
You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.
If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.
“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.
“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”
“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”
You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.
“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”
You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.
“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”
He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.
“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”
You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.
“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”
Jamie winces.
“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”
You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.
“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“
“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”
You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.
“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”
“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”
“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”
He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.
“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”
Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.
---
He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.
After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.
You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.
“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”
Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.
“Kit room.”
It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.
Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.
“Y/N? Love?”
“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”
Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.
“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”
He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.
“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”
Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.
Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.
“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”
“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.
“You’re alright, though?”
You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.
“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”
No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.
Tell her, you prick.
He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.
This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.
“What’s it say?”
You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.
“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”
You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.
“On the ceiling?”
He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.
It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.
“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”
“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.
“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.
“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”
You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.
“I spy with my little eye…”
---
It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.
No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.
He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.
“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.
“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.
He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.
Tell him, you silly shit.
It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.
“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”
“What?”
He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.
“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”
He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.
You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.
"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."
He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.
Maybe again.
"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."
He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.
"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."
You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.
"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.
(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)
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saph-cyare · 2 years ago
Text
Always and Forever.
Summary — Lately, Joel’s been feeling a certain way about you. All he needs is a little push from Ellie and his brother in order for him to take action.
Joel Miller x F!Reader
Warnings: Established relationship, cursing, mainly Ellie’s potty mouth, unprotected sex, P in V.
Genre: Fluff & smut
Rating: Mature
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Joel doesn’t know what it is. He has no idea what’s gotten into him, or why he can’t seem to turn his focus to anything other than you. Everything else has seemed insignificant lately. His duties around Jackson feel as though he's only going through the motions until he can return to the comfort of your shared home, and to the domestic bliss of the household, just you, Ellie and him. Even out on patrols, Joel couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering back to you. It was only Tommy that had brought Joel out of his own head, only just stopping him from setting foot into an old, rusted bear trap.
And this morning is the same. Only this time, Ellie is the one to notice. The young girl eyes Joel from across the breakfast table, the beginning of a smirk playing on her face. He's turned halfway to look over the back of his chair, his watchful gaze fixed on your figure roaming the kitchen. His eyes finally break away from you, only to be met with a sly look from Ellie, as well as her ill-timed attempt to avert her eyes and straighten out her expression.
Joel opens his mouth to say something in response to her smart look, but yet again, his attention is pulled back to you, this time setting a fragrant cup of coffee in front of him and pressing a kiss to his temple. Joel's gaze follows you as you make your way back to the kitchen before returning with two plates in your hands, setting one in front of him and the other in front of Ellie. She takes note of your missing plate and swiftly turns to look at you.
“You aren't gonna eat with us?” You offer a grateful smile to her concern, taking your hand to gently smooth her hair back. “Can't today,”you respond. “I’m helping with breakfast in the dining hall this morning. I just wanted to make you both something before I left.” You smile at the both of them. “I’ll be home soon. Promise.”You plant a kiss atop her head before moving to the entryway of your home, and Joel gets up and follows after you.
He leans up against the wall of the entryway, head tilted as he watches you put on your shoes and coat. You finally look up at him once finished, and move towards him. His hands wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You bring one hand up to his head, his eyes closing as your fingers begin to play with his curls.
“You gonna be okay without me?”
There’s a bit of teasing in your concern, but Joel only hums in response, too focused on the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. “Don’t know,” he says. He opens his eyes to look at you. "Might just have to keep you here with me."
He moves his head to rest in your neck, placing a soft kiss over your pulse point. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his lips. You want to indulge in this feeling, but you know full well that if you let Joel go any further, you are not leaving the house this morning.
“Tempting,” you say. “But I promised Maria. I've got to go.” Joel only offers another hum against your skin as acknowledgment. “You sure?”
“Joel—”
You’re cut off when Joel begins to suck at a certain sensitive spot. He draws a gasp from your lips, followed by a soft moan, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. You sound divine. He wants to draw more sounds from you. He wants you to stay, wants to take you back to bed and keep you there for hours and hours. He wants to give you so much more.
But he knows it’ll have to wait.
Joel finally pulls back from your neck to look at you. Your breathing is uneven, and a warmth has now enveloped your skin. “Alright”, he says. He gives you a nod of approval, as if finally giving you permission to leave. Of course he does so after he’s gotten you all hot and bothered.
You huff out a breath. “You’re a tease, you know.”
He only shrugs. “I like giving you something to miss me by.” You give a humored scoff at his words.
This man.
Your hands move to cradle the sides of his face, and you can feel his scruff that you love so dearly beneath your fingertips. “Trust me, I’d miss you regardless.” You gently bring your lips to meet his. And when you pull away, Joel can’t help but marvel at you. This is the face of the woman he loves. You are the woman he loves. After everything that's slipped away from him, you are possibly the most precious of the few things he's gained. And you've stayed. Despite all that's been lost, you are a constant within Joel's life. He's grateful to whatever higher power there is that he has the privilege of holding you close to him. That you're his.
He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and then rests his forehead against yours. "You come home as soon as possible. You hear me?"
"I will." You nod against his forehead. "Always."
Joel presses one last quick kiss to your lips before opening the door for you, allowing you to step out into the fresh spring air. Joel watches you from the porch as you make your way toward the town's dining hall. You briefly turn back towards the house and give him one last little wave before continuing down the road. He returns it, along with a smile on his face before stepping back inside.
Joel makes his way back to the dining table and to his breakfast, Ellie nearly finished with hers. He sits down, ready to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared. Before he can even begin to eat though, he looks up from his plate and meets Ellie's stare once again, her expression the same as the one she'd given him earlier that morning. Joel only stares back at her in confusion.
"Hell’s going on with you this morning?”
“The fuck’s going on with you!”
“Watch your mouth—”
“You can’t even be away from her for one second. You’ve been like this all week. Actually, no, you’ve been like this for a fucking month. At least.” She raises her eyebrows at him. Joel stares at her before turning his attention to his plate. “I don’t know what your talking about.”
“Bull. Shit.”
“Ellie—“
“You might as well just marry her already, It’s about time anyway—”
Joel freezes.
He can feel is entire body go stiff. It feels as though all of his basic motor functions have left him, leaving every single muscle reduced to motionless mass. He doesn’t even know if he can offer up a response. And when he finally does, all he can muster up is a weak “What?”
Ellie throws up her hands. “I said about damn time! I love her. You definitely love her, with you being all over her all the fucking time.”
The signature smirk of hers returns to her face for the nth time this morning.
“By the way, I see her neck in the mornings, you know—”
Joel looks like he might have a heart attack, and Ellie has to resist the urge to laugh at his mortification.
“Ellie.”
“Okay, alright, listen, all I’m saying is she makes you happy. It’s obvious.” Her tone gains some seriousness now. “And I think you should ask her. It’s not like she’s going to say no. I mean, she’s been with us this long, right?”
Joel’s silent. Not out of shock, but pondering. He’s absorbed all of what Ellie said.
Marriage.
It’s a thought that hadn’t really occurred to Joel. Occasionally, for only seconds at the most, it’s entered his mind during some little moments with you. When you’ve laid your head on his chest after a long day, when you sing and dance with Ellie, when you’ve carefully, lovingly patched him up after a rough day of patrol. And during all the times that he’s felt you with his hands, his mouth, memorized every inch of your body with his own.
These things, he wouldn’t mind keeping forever.
Maybe Ellie is right. Maybe it is time—
Joel’s pulled out of his thoughts by a soft knock at the front door. He sees Ellie jolt a bit at the sound, and he extends his hand in a small action of comfort. In spite of having been in Jackson for quite some time, some of the effects of the past still remain. Though, you’ve made it better for them both.
“Easy. ’s okay” She softens at his action and gives him a nod. Carefully, Joel goes to the door, Ellie following behind him, and cracks it just wide enough to get a glimpse of who stands on the other side. Tension leaves Joel’s body when he sees a familiar face.
“Hey, brother.”
“Tommy,” Joel opens the door wide, moving to embrace him. Tommy smiles, a hand patting Joel’s back, before he extends an arm out to hug Ellie.
“What brings you over?” Joel asks.
“Maria and the little one are out at the dining hall, with your girl, I think. Thought I’d stop by, see what you were up to.”
Joel can’t help the feeling of pride he gets when he hears his brother refer to you as ‘his girl’. Joel pushes it aside as he invites Tommy further into the house, taking his coat.
Ellie returns upstairs to finish getting ready for the day as Joel leads Tommy to the couch. “You want a drink or anything?”
Tommy shakes his head at the offer, smiling. “Just coffee, if you have it.”
Joel pours Tommy a mug, and takes his own unfinished one from the dining table before joining him on the couch.
“You doing okay?”
Joel looks at his brother in slight confusion. “Yeah…why?”
“I mean, considering that you just offered me liquor at 9 A.M…” Tommy gives a small gesture of his hands to make the point. “Something on your mind?”
Joel doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to curse at the fact that his brother can read him this well.
“I just…” He pauses for a moment, thinking about how on earth he should even bring this up to his brother. Joel sighs before speaking.“How’d you know?”
Tommy turns to him. “Huh?”
“Maria.” Joel clears his throat. “How’d you know when, uh—“ Joel pauses again, but Tommy catches on quickly and offers his brother a comforting smile. “I think I just woke up one morning, and I realized that I wanted to wake up beside her for the rest of my life.”
Something within Joel clicks at Tommy’s words. He feels like that. Hell, he’s felt that way about you for longer than he can even remember. Tommy observes his brother and then speaks. “So,” he begins. “You thinking about it?” Joel is silent for a moment. “Bout what?” is all he says. He picks up his mug and drinks, making sure to avoid eye contact with Tommy.
“C’mon, Joel.”
Joel sets the mug down and sighs. “Ellie said something earlier today.”
“Kid’s smart,” Tommy says.
Joel shakes his head. “Too much for her own good.”
Tommy chuckles at him before speaking again.
“For what it’s worth; I think you should.”
Joel turns to look at him and finally makes eye contact with his brother.
“Listen, I ain’t seen you this happy since…” He trails off, but both him and Joel know what he was thinking. “She’s just changed you. Really changed you. Ever since you got together, theres just been this shift in you. I can see it. We all can. Me, Maria, hell, even Ellie, you said it yourself.” Tommy holds a soft expression on his face.
“She’s good for you, and for Ellie. She’s sweet, she’s kind, and don’t kill me for saying it, but she’s beautiful, Joel. Inside and out.”
Tommy looks Joel right in the eye.
“Do it, Joel.”
Joel absorbs Tommy’s words, and he knows that he’s right. About all of it. You have changed him, in a way that he never thought possible. After everything, Joel never thought he would feel completely physically or emotionally secure again. He never thought he would be able to have a full night of rest, without being taunted by unwanted memories and waking to an empty bed. Never thought he would be able to hold someone again, kiss someone again, touch someone again. Love someone again. But he does. He has all of these things now, because of you. And he’ll be damned if he ever loses it.
He’s going to marry you.
Joel nods at before finally speaking.
“I’m gonna do it.”
Tommy smiles widely at his brother’s words. “Well, alright then.” He pats Joel on the back as he gets up from the couch. “Vamos, hermano.”
“Where are we going?”
Tommy smiles at him.
“The metalsmith.”
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The rings only took three hours each to be made; six hours that Joel spent thinking of how to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. He had gotten two gold bands made, one for you and one for himself. To his disappointment, it wasn’t possible to add a stone to yours, but he was able to add something else.
“You feeling good about it?” Tommy asks him as they walk home from picking up the rings. Ellie walks in front of them, just out of earshot.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“When are you gonna do it?”
Joel pauses before responding. He’s already waited all this time. He doesn’t know if he can wait anymore.
“Tonight, I think.”
Tommy smiles, and Joel already knows how thrilled Tommy is. Ellie, too. When they had gone to the metalsmith, she had nearly freaked out when she had found out that Joel was in fact going to propose. But he couldn’t even blame her, she was right. It was about damn time.
The three of them stop when they make it to the front steps of the house.
“I can take Ellie tonight,” Tommy offers.
“You sure?” Joel asks. “You don’t have to do that, especially with Maria, and the little one—”
“Are you kidding? Maria would love having her over, and the baby could use someone to play with.” Tommy then slightly raises his eyebrows at Joel.
“Give you guys the house to yourselves tonight?”
Joel knows what he’s insinuating. Hesitantly, he nods. “Thank you, Tommy.”
Tommy just smiles at his brother. The three of them make their way up the steps and enter the house to find you preparing dinner in the kitchen. You turn and smile at the sight of them, greeting Tommy with a hug before giving Ellie a kiss. Joel stands, rather impatiently, waiting for his turn to have your affection.
You finally break from Ellie to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“That’s all?” He mutters.
“Well, hello to you too,” You can’t help but chuckle at his pettiness. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner’s almost ready.”
Tommy speaks up. “Actually, Ellie and I were about to head out. She’s gonna spend the night at me and Maria’s.”
You’re eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh?” You turn to look at Joel, giving him a soft smile. “I guess it’s just me and you tonight.”
Those words make him more anxious than they should.
Once Ellie’s grabbed some clothing from upstairs, and you say goodnight to Tommy and Ellie. As Joel bids his brother good night, Tommy whispers to him as they hug.
“You’ve got this, Joel.”
God, he hopes he’s right.
The two of them leave you and Joel alone for dinner. He asks about your day, and you tell him about his little niece, what you had baked today, the town gossip you had heard from Maria. He listens intently, hanging onto your every word, and thanks the Lord that you don’t pry with questions about what he had been up to today.
You both make your way upstairs after dinner to unwind for the night. And this is when Joel begins to panic just a little. It’s getting later and later. He goes through the words in his head, thinking of what to say as he freshens up. Just before you’re about to undress and change into your sleepwear, he stops you.
“You wanna go sit on the porch with me?” He asks. “Still a nice evening.”
To his relief, you say yes.
“That sounds like a good idea,” you smile at him. “Meet you there?”
Joel nods at you. “Meet you there.”
He watches you leave the room, making your way downstairs. Joel isn’t sure what his plan is, exactly. But before he leaves to follow after you, he spots his guitar leaned against the bedroom wall. He grabs it, and brings it with him.
When he walks out, he turns to see you already seated on the porch swing. You sit up at the sight of him, guitar in hand, and can’t help but smile at the sight.
“You’re gonna play me something?”
He smiles, gives you a small one shoulder shrug before sitting beside you. “It’s been a while. Thought maybe you would like it.”
“You were right.”
He turns to look at you, smiling softly. He positions his guitar in his lap, left hand holding the neck, hovering about the frets.
“Anything requests?”
You shake your head. “Surprise me.”
Joel knows exactly what to play for you.
He begins to strum the opening notes of the song, fingers moving effortlessly against the frets. His voice is deep and rich as he sings. He’s so completely immersed in the moment, eyes closed, trusting his fingers and voice to do all the work.
When he’s finished singing, he turns to look at you, and it’s evident that he’s searching for your reaction, your approval. You smile softly at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to make me fall in love with you again.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “So it worked then?”
You gently brush his shoulder with yours, chuckling at him. He doesn’t think he could ever tire of that sound. Right now, in this moment, Joel thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. The sinking sun paints your face lilac and deep blue, making your skin glow. And he knows it’s time.
“I uh—”
He stops abruptly, causing you to look up at him. His eyes are cast down, nervously fixed on the wood of his guitar.
“I’ve been thinking, and I just…” He trails off again. Your expression morphs into one of concern.
“Joel?”
He doesn’t respond. He simply begins to remove his guitar from his lap and allowing it to take his spot before moving off of the swing.
And he’s on one knee.
His hand travels behind his back and into his rear pocket to retreive a small leather box.
Suddenly all the air is gone from your lungs. It’s only the sound of Joel clearing his throat that forces you to snap out of your shock.
“Haven’t always the best at communicating. But, you probably already know that better than most.”
His words draw a choked laugh from your lips, and Joel’s finally drawn out of his nerves. He brings his gaze to meet the sight of your eyes, your soft smile, and it takes everything in him to not break right then and there.
No amount of recitation was preparation enough for this moment. He tries to find his words, speaking slowly.
“It hasn’t been easy. I know that. But you were patient. Always so damn patient with me.” He pauses. “You opened me up a little more. I uh…” Joel stops. Screw the words, whatever he had planned on saying before. He just wanted to let this moment be.
Joel opens up the box to reveal the ring, and you think you feel your heart stop beating.
“It’s just uh—it’s just gold. I wasn’t able to add a diamond or anything.” You almost want to laugh out of disbelief. He’s apologetic about it, but you could not even care less. The fact that he’s kneeling for you, ring in hand, the fact that Joel wants to be your husband, that he wants you to be his wife; that is more than enough. More than you could have ever dreamed. But there’s more.
“It isn’t much or anything, but if you look on the inner side of the ring…” His voice trails off. Curious, you look closer at the ring slightly to see a cursive engraving in the gold.
‘Always and Forever - J.’
If you weren’t crying before, you sure as hell are now.
Tears in your eyes well up as Joel says your name, and the quiver in his voice tells you there might be some in his own as well.
“I want you with me, always. It took me too damn long to realize. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t mine—I don’t even wanna think about it. All I know is that I need you. For the rest of my life, I need you. I need to have you with me. I need to be the only one to fall asleep next to you, the only one to wake up next to you. I want you, need you, always, for the rest of my life. Please; will you let me have you?”
He pauses and swallows hard, before finally summoning the words. Those words.
“Will you marry me?”
Your words are caught in your throat. Joel’s eyebrows are knitted tightly, nervously awaiting a response, something, anything from you.
But no words come.
You lower yourself off of the swing, mirroring Joel and kneeling onto the wood of the porch, facing him.
You have no words to speak; you only bring your hands to cradle the sides of his face, and softly connect your lips with his.
Joel’s kissed you countless times before, just as you’ve kissed him. But never has a kiss between the two of you felt like this. Never this tender. Never with this much pure, raw emotion behind it.
When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his gently. You softly nod.
“Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaky.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Joel isn’t breathing. He gently pulls away to look at you, and for a moment it’s completely silent, save for the soft sound of the crickets in the night. And then it’s hits him.
Yes. You said yes.
Joel huffs out a breathless laugh, followed by one of your own. Tears that he hadn’t been aware of begin to fall, trailing down his cheeks as he goes to kiss you again, his lips colliding with yours. When you pull away, you both can’t help but laugh again, perhaps just out of the sheer disbelief or joy. Joel realizes that the open leather box still sits in his lap. He exhales deeply before removing the ring from the velvet of the box and holding it out towards you.
“Here,” his voice is heavy as he offers his other hand out to you. “Let me.”
You place your left hand in his, and he slips the band onto your finger ever so gently. The fit is perfect, and the gold shines under the warm glow of the porch lamp.
Joel intertwines your fingers with his as he kisses you again. It’s deeper, there’s a passion lying behind it that wasn’t there before. Joel’s tongue swipes against your bottom lip, a small tease before he pulls away. You nearly whine at the loss, but Joel stands up, offering you his hand. You understand instantly, eager to be back inside of your home.
He grabs the neck of his guitar from the porch swing before pulling you both inside, kicking the front door shut behind him. He leans the guitar next to the doorframe before turning back to you, guiding you up the stairs and into your bedroom.
As soon as the door shuts, Joel’s wastes no time kissing you again deeply, trying to savor the feeling of his lips on yours. He bites your bottom lip and he nearly wants to smirk at the little gasp that escapes you. His hands wrap around around your waist, holding you flush against him as he begins to kiss down your jaw. He dips lower, nipping at your pulse before soothing it with his tongue. You let out a pleasured sigh at the feeling of his lips on you. He knows you’re eager, and so is he, but he’s taking a different approach tonight.
He wants to show you how he feels for you, beyond words. He needs to.
His hands come to the hem of your shirt, lifting the edge slightly. He pulls away, his deep brown eyes looking into yours.
“Can I take this off you, sweetheart?”
You nod your head eagerly, allowing him to undress you. He removes your shirt and bra, tossing them aside. He allows himself to take in the sight of you for just a moment, before moving to the waistband of your bottoms and removing them as well.
“Lie down for me.”
It doesn’t take much for you to comply, coming to rest on the bed. Joel undresses in front of you, removing his shirt to reveal his soft body, dark hair starting from his navel, and trailing down, below the waistline of his jeans. You swallow hard at the sight, before he joins you on the bed. He hovers above you, one sturdy forearm holding himself up as his other hand gently brushes your hair back. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before moving back down to your neck once more.
Joel lips trail down past your collar bone and to your chest, beginning to nip and suck at the sensitive flesh. He leaves dark love marks littered against your skin, languidly kissing his way down your belly until his lips stop just at the waistband of your panties.
“Lift your hips for me, baby.”
Your breath hitches and you can feel a warmth within you beginning to bloom at his words. You do as he says, allowing him to slip the fabric down your legs before discarding it on the floor. He looks down at you hungrily, pupils dilated and lips parted as he hooks his arms beneath your legs, settling between your thighs. He nearly groans at the sight of you completely exposed for him, and he can feel himself growing harder, straining in his jeans. “All mine,” he whispers, mouth hovering just over your center. “You’re all mine.” You can feel the heat of his breath against your wetness and you need him.
“Joel, please—”
He cuts you off with a long swipe of his tongue, drawing a gasp from you. He continues his movements, applying pressure to your clit with each lap of his tongue. He braces your legs with his arms, pulling you closer to him. He does not even give you a chance to open your mouth as he takes your clit fully into his mouth, beginning to suck. A moan falls from your lips, and he smirks into your pussy at the sound, continuing to devour you. It’s not long before you feel a finger teasing your entrance. Joel looks up at you, eyes asking for permission. You give him a pleading look, and he knows it’s all the permission he needs.
Joel slides slowly slides in his middle finger, before adding another. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, his fingers thick and long inside you. He curls his fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that has you arching your back for him. He accompanies the movement of his fingers with his tongue, lapping at your clit fervently.
You can feel the heat within your lower belly increasing by the second. The combination of his tongue and his fingers inside you bring you closer and closer to the edge. Joel can feel you tightening around his fingers and he knows he’s nearly got you where he wants you.
He focuses in on the sound of your little pants and moans of his name, drinking in your sounds as he speeds up his movements.
Your hand comes to meet his head, fingers threading through his curls and tugging lightly. He groans into you at the slight pull, and the vibration is all you need to finally be sent over the edge, and he takes it all, swallowing, wanting to savor your taste.
Your chest heaves as you perch yourself up on your elbows, coming down from your high. Joel presses a kiss to your thigh, smiling softly at you. Despite the numbness in your legs, you sit up on the bed. Still between your legs, Joel stands from his kneeling position at the foot of the bed and leans down to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hand trails down to the waistband of his pants, eager to pleasure him, to give him something in return, when he stops you, his hand grasping your wrist gently. He shakes his head, smiling softly at your eagerness.
“Not tonight,” he says. Any protest you might have had is silenced as he presses a kiss to your neck, gently pushing you to lay back further on the bed. “Wanna take my time with you,” he speaks in between kisses to your skin. “Wanna make you feel good. You gonna let me make you feel good?”
You nod your head. “Yes. Please, Joel.”
He sits up quickly on his knees, his eyes fixed on yours as he undoes his belt, letting his jeans fall before finally removing his boxers. His arousal is evident, the head of his cock wet with pre-cum.
Joel leans down to be on top of you, bringing himself to your entrance, running the head of his cock gently against your slit before pushing the tip in slowly
“Joel,” you gasp at the feeling, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, baby.” He rests his forehead against yours as he pushes in deeper, letting out a deep groan when he finally bottoms out inside you. He’s a stretch, but he gives you a moment to adjust to his girth. “You alright?” He asks. You nod, giving him the go ahead to move.
Joel pulls his hips back slightly before his hips meet yours, giving you the first thrust, slow and deep. You both let out a groan at the feeling and Joel gives you another, drawing a sweet whine from your lips.
He sets the perfect pace, strokes long and hard inside you. With each thrust of his hips, his cock hits that spot that nearly makes you tremble. Joel groans into your shoulder, nearly losing himself in the way you feel around him. He moves his forehead from yours to get a good look at you, and gosh, you’re a sight. Your eyebrows knit together, lips parted as little moans escape you from each thrust of his hips against yours. He kisses you with reckless abandon, swallowing your moans with his lips as he thrusts, strokes hitting deeper.
“All mine. You’re all mine, you hear me?”
You nod, overwhelmed by his words and each spearing movement of his cock inside of you.
“Yours,” you breathe out. “I’m all yours, Joel.”
Joel groans at your words, his thrusts growing deeper and harder, and that familiar feeling in your core returns, intensifying at each thrust. You squeeze around him, and he brings his hand to intertwine with yours, just above your head. You’re close to nearing your peak, breath growing more ragged and your moans turning to whimpers. The knot in your core is about to come undone and Joel can feel it, close behind you.
“Come on my cock baby, let me feel you. I’ve got you.”
With one last hard thrust, you come undone around him, crying out his name. “Atta girl,” he whispers against your skin just before reaching his own release, moaning into your ear as he fills you up. “That’s my good girl.”
He rests on top of you for a moment, panting into your neck before carefully unsheathing himself from you, and laying at your side.
You take in the sight of him, silver curls damp on his forehead with perspiration, his chest rising and falling. You steady your breath before speaking.
“When—?” You hesitate, unsure of how to broach the topic. Joel lifts his head to look at you. “When what?”
You draw in a breath.
“The wedding,” It’s the first time you say it out loud. You’re marrying Joel. Your Joel. All of the dry wit, all of the Southern charm. Every part of him is yours. “When did you want-”
“Yesterday.”
You laugh at him and he only smiles at you, both knowing that his eagerness is shared. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “As soon as possible. Whenever you want.”
Joel brings your closer into his arms, holding you tight.
“Gonna take care of you.��� Joel lays a kiss on your forehead, so light, you barely register it in your blissed out daze.
He presses another kiss to your hair. “Gonna keep you safe.”
Your lips curve into a soft smile before planting a kiss to Joel’s neck.
“I know.”
You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life.
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Author’s Note 📝🪶 : Hi :) This is my first time writing so if you made it here, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.
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blegh-110 · 6 months ago
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i. "i was enchanted to meet you" | Sam Monroe
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Pairing: older brother's bestfriend!Sam x fem!reader
Summary: Older brother’s best friend! Sam Monroe who you really got to know when you were 15 and he was 17.
Warnings: None
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: This is chapter II of this series where I am using songs from Speak Now, enjoy!
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Your sophomore year of high school was great.
One reason being that you had finally made a friend who was in three of your classes; geometry, honors english, and P.E.. 
The second reason being that Sam was in your very last class of the day, introduction to art. 
Neither of you were artists, or even good drawers. But that was what made your time together so fun. There wasn’t a day that went by where you two didn’t make fun of each other’s drawings. 
“Sam! It’s supposed to be an orange!” You laughed with tears in your eyes as you stared at your poorly done drawing of a peeled orange half. 
“(Y/N), it looks like a vagina.” He covered his mouth with his hand as he tried, very badly, to hide his laughter. 
And because of your constant noise-making, and talking, and interruptions, the teacher decided to move Sam across the room. But that had made it almost worse. You couldn’t even look at him from your seat because the situation was just too funny, you would have to look away before you’d burst out laughing. And as soon as class was dismissed and the two of you would leave the classroom, there was nothing holding back the bottled up amusement anymore and you both would walk out of school with tears in your eyes. 
It all happened so often that you didn’t want to stop your enjoyment and go home. And neither did Sam, you guessed. Instead of leaving you and driving back to his own house, he began driving you home and dropping you off. Which then turned to driving you home and hanging around the house after you bravely asked if he wanted to come inside for a little bit. And it got to the point where he automatically turned his car off when he parked on the street, having already set his mind on spending more time with you. But this didn’t happen every single day. 
There were times when you had to send him home. It wasn’t for anything serious, in fact, you wanted nothing more than to spend more time with him. But there were days where you had a big test coming up or tons of homework to finish or an essay due the next day, and you knew you would get none of it done if Sam was in the house. 
“Sam, get out!” You giggled as you lightly pushed him to the front door, your fingertips burning at the touch of his back.
“Alright, fine. But what am I supposed to do?” 
“I don’t know, go hang out with your other friend?” You clearly hinted at your older brother, ready to close the door and start your essay that was due the next day. It was your fault really. You had a whole week to finish it, but you kept pushing it aside because you wanted to be with Sam instead. So your whole school day was spent outlining and finding evidence with any spare time you had, and just generally stressing out. 
“He’s at football practice though.”
“Then just watch.”
“But it’s boring.”  
You gave him a pointed look. 
“Okay, okay, I’ll go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said while leaning in for a hug then leaving.
One thing you quickly learned about Sam was that he was actually quite attentive and affectionate. He always knew when an exam was coming up for you because of the way you became less talkative and more isolated as the date got closer. He didn’t want to bring that observation up to you though because what would that do? So he did the best he could to make those few days just a little bit better for you. Which included buying you study snacks on your way home, keeping quiet in your art class and instead listening to music together, and sometimes helping you study if you let him. You didn’t notice it at first, too caught up with the thought that you might fail the exam. But when you did eventually catch on you somehow fell even more in love with Sam. 
And the one thing about him that made it harder to breathe was his need for physical touch. Whenever he saw you at school he was quick to leave his friends and greet you with a hug and ask how you’re doing. In your shared art class he was always shoulder to shoulder with you. If he thought you were too far from him, he’d hook his fingers underneath your seat and pull your chair right to him. When the two of you would walk home, his arm would always wrap around your shoulder and pull you close to him. If he saw you walking to class he was happy to take your books and walk you there with a hand on your back. And when it was just the two of you at your house watching a movie, he’d lean his entire body on yours and take a nap. 
You wanted so badly to return those affections. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, you wanted to match his excitement when he saw you in the halls, but it felt impossible for you. And you knew that Sam wouldn't mind, but you just weren’t very good at showing affection the way he did. 
You also learned that he was a bit… possessive and protective of his stuff. He was asked a few times by other students if they could borrow his drawing supplies, or even the brushes provided by the classroom, and he always, meanly, said no. Or when you constantly witnessed him smack your brother's hand away from his bag of chips. 
“Sam, c’mon, I didn’t eat anything for breakfast and I didn’t bring my lunch!” Your brother exclaimed while trying again to steal Sam’s food.
“Get away from me.” He grumbled with smiley fries in his mouth,  
“You’re never this way with my sister.” 
Which was true. He was always sharing his stuff with you. Whether it was food or letting you keep his pencil because you couldn’t find your own, and it was always the pink Paper Mate ones. He was also always offering or making you take some of whatever snack he had. 
“Here, have it.” And he gave you the last oreos he had bought from the cafeteria. 
And there was a time when you were paired up for a project with the boy who took you to the dance in your eighth grade year, the one who you let copy your homework. When you first heard your name with his own you wanted the ground to swallow you, but then he surprisingly brought the whole situation up and apologized for it. And you couldn’t hold a grudge if you wanted to, it happened two years ago and he seemed good now. So you forgave and forgot and the two of you planned to get the assignment started during lunch in the library. Unfortunately, Sam wasn’t as forgiving as you were.
“Didn’t he make you cry? Why don’t you tell the teacher you just don’t want to be partners with him?” He asked while opening his car door for you. 
“Sam, it’s okay! He said he was sorry and it’s not like I’m hanging out with him.” He scoffed at the last part then closed it after you had gotten in. 
“You better not because I’m not over it.”
“Did he take you to the dance?”
“No, but I was the one who saw how upset you were. Hated seeing you like that. I just don’t want him to think that this could be a second chance or something.”
“I appreciate your concern, I really do. But it’s not going beyond a school project, I promise.”
“Okay, but if he tries something, you tell me first.” You rolled your eyes with a smile and nodded your head. You didn’t dare tell him but you felt more than just appreciative, you felt cherished and looked after when he got this way, which wasn’t the first time. And each talk left you wanting him even more. 
And the last bit of his personality that you learned was his introvertness, which again, surprised you. Especially since your brother was actually a pretty sociable person. Like you, Sam was not one to see a large crowd and want to partake in it. The only difference between the two of you was that when you were put in a situation where you were surrounded by a lot of people, your heart would quicken and your hands would get sweaty. You were nervous to talk to other people and felt like you had to. But with Sam, he simply didn’t care to talk to them, he didn’t want to and he made that very clear. 
“Fuck that.” He said when the both of you saw that the school Market was taking place in the courtyard. The market took place for a week, and it was where students sold their own goods. You made the mistake your freshman year of trying to walk through it and go home, but you were always stopped by another student trying to sell you something, whether it was a sticker or their homemade soap, and it was a nightmare. 
There was one time you accidentally got caught up with one of them and they just wouldn’t let you leave. They were selling some homemade body care products, soaps and bath bombs, and you gave every excuse you could to nicely shut them down.
“I don’t have enough money.”
“I really have to get home.”
“I’m not really a bath bomb person.”
“That’s okay! We’ve got lip scrubs! Here, smell these.” Then they proceeded to shove different products in your face while telling you their prices. And while giving a tight lipped smile, you felt a hand wrap around your own. You didn’t have to look to know it was Sam, thank god. 
“Hi, would you like t-”
“Nope.” And he walked away with your hand in his, telling his fellow classmates to “fuck off” as he continued to walk through the market. It felt so natural, like it was supposed to be this way. You’d never felt so comfortable with Sam like this. Before, you were always too overwhelmed by his presence and your own feelings that it became too much. But there you were, holding his hand until the two of you got to his car. 
And it all went away when he graduated. It was a terrible night for you to watch him be handed his diploma, an official sign that the friendship you had built with him was over. You were proud of him, there was no doubt about that. But as soon as the graduating class threw their hats in the air you had to bite your lip to keep your cries from coming out. There was a hollowness in your heart that swallowed any emotion you could feel. 
When the ceremony was over and you and your family went down to the field, he ran right to you and gave you a soul crushing embrace. One where it lifted you off the ground and you had to wrap your arms around him. His graduation gown burned against your cheek. It was a bitter-sweet moment. 
When you got home after a celebration dinner for your brother, you thought about your times with Sam and cried the entire night, wishing you had never met him in the first place so you could save yourself from your heartbreak.
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antoncyng · 5 months ago
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౨ৎ. STORYTIME - k.sn
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synopsis - you listen in when your boyfriend offers to put your daughter to sleep
genre / warning(s) - fluff, ! sunoo is not the dad !, daughter name is jieun and she’s 4 ><, ex-idol!sunoo x fem!reader, sunoo and reader have been dating for 2 and a half years
wc - 792
you sat on the couch with your boyfriend after finally putting your daughter to sleep, taking what felt like hours with how much energy she had at 11:34 pm. he just smiled at you proudly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your skin softly.
until your love was disturbed by tiny footsteps and a toddlers voice, you sighed knowing what would happen. small sniffles came from behind the couch, turning your head to make contact with your daughter who was standing there in her pajamas, stuffed bunny in one small hand while the other rubbed the tears in her eyes.
“i don’t like the dark.” your daughter said to you after sniffling a few more times and catching her breath. “baby, your nightlight was on. what do you mean the dark?” you responded to her, confused as you clearly remember turning it on before leaving the room.
“too dark.” all you could do was sigh and stand up, but you felt a hand grab yours. “it’s okay, you stay here. i’ll put her to bed.” sunoo said to you with a sweet smile before standing up and turning to your daughter. “how about i put you to bed tonight? how does that sound? i can read you a small story too”
you could tell your daughter really loved sunoo, especially from the bright smile that appeared on her face when your boyfriend’s offer was spoken. taking his hand in her smaller one, they waddled off to her bedroom together.
you soon followed along and put your ear to the door, while watching the small creek that was left open, you couldn’t help but get curious on how your boyfriend would put jieun to sleep.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ IN JIEUN’S ROOM
“what story do you want to read tonight bug?” sunoo asked her sweetly, helping her sit on the bed comfortable, while he sat at the end.
“can you make a story for me? i’ve read all of mine already?” she says back, pointing to the bookshelf of short books that have already been read to her multiple times.
sunoo just nods and smiles, before moving off her bed and drawing a quick picture, than coming back and sitting on her bed again. “are you ready? you have to really focus on this story, okay?” he starts, your daughter just nodding with a waited smile on her lips.
“well, once upon a time in a beautiful bunny forest, lived a pink baby bunny named.. what should we name her?” he asked jieun, trying to make the story more interactive for her.
“rachel!” she said excitingly. “okay, lets call her rachel then. one day rachel wanted to go to the playground with her friends, but her mommy made her make a promise. can you guess what that is?” sunoo read from the picture to her, getting a head shake of denial in response.
“her mommy asked her to promise to go straight to sleep when she comes home, just like your mommy tells you.” he says, tickling her stomach slightly when she gets brought up in the story, earning a giggle from your daughter. “but why does she have to sleep right away?”
“well, when you go to sleep, it gives you energy for the next day! with no sleep or even a little bit of sleep, you’ll be too tired to play the next day. do you want to miss out on a day of playing because you didn’t sleep before? you’ll be very sad, you know.” sunoo cocks an eyebrow at jieun, leaving her mouth agape and she nods her head.
“can i sleep now then? i don’t want to miss playtime tomorrow!” she says, worriedly while she pulls her blanket higher and clutches her stuffed animal in her arm, while sunoo grows a smile on his face and just nods.
“that sounds like a good idea, lets get you tucked in.” he stands up, helping jieun get comfortable in her bed before kissing her forehead, turning off the main loght and turning on her nightlight. “are you going to be here when i wake up?” jieun looks up at sunoo with puppy eyes.
“yes, i’ll be in the room with mommy. call me if you need me okay? goodnight bun, sweet dreams.” he says while brushing her hair to the side before leaving her room quietly, making eye contact with you after closing her door.
“is she sleeping?” he nods in response, wrapping his arms around your neck in a bear hug.
“lets get our own rest now, unless you need a storytime too?” sunoo chuckles with a teasing manner before walking to your bedroom together, you knew you were so in love.
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beomiracles · 1 month ago
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for kinktober: yeonjun + knife/gun play if you’re feeling it :3
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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DAY 16 : CHOI YEONJUN + KNIFEPLAY DARK CONTENT — “Don’t worry, I promise to take care of you this time”, he murmurs, brows furrowed as he lets the flat of the blade press against your naked skin.
Knife play is a form of consensual BDSM edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of physical and mental stimulation. 
pairings yandere-ex!yeonjun x fem!reader warnings heavy yandere themes, dub-con, kissing, vaginal fingering, hints at previous abuse, knife play but it’s also used as a threat, reader has sort of an internal crisis !
#serene adds ✎ I love this one, even though I'm not too sure just how big the actual knife play part is.. >-<
EVENT POST
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“Are you scared?” 
The question was rhetorical, you could tell by the low and menacing drawl of his lips. Still you shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you try to calm your nerves. Your small objection makes his face twist into a sour grimace as Yeonjun draws in closer. The sharp knife glints under the pale moon when he brings it to your throat, its sharpened edge resting just above your palpable pulse, blood flowing beneath your warm skin. 
He towers over you, his expression dark as his body cages yours against the cold and rough brick wall. Your eyes flicker down the narrow and vacant alleway, the last bit of hope you’d clung onto flushing out onto the pavement along the heavy rainfall. — You hadn’t heard from him in months, you thought that you were finally rid of him, that you were finally safe. 
But as soon as you’d let your guard down, he appeared. It was as if he’d been waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake, and you had. Fuck you should’ve asked Soobin to follow you home, but you didn’t want to bother him, and it was late.. One act of kindness had led to one of malice as your ex-boyfriend cornered you, seemingly out of nowhere as he appeared from the shadows. 
“I think you should drop the knife.” You try your hardest to sound calm, as if you were talking to a slightly delirious and insane person, but Yeonjun was. His lips curl into something halfway of a smile and a smirk, you couldn’t quite place it, but it made him look uncanny. The sharp silver is firm against your throat and you find it hard to breathe. "Yeonjun, I'm serious..” But there’s a shaky edge to your voice, and you know he can pick up on it. 
“Baby. I don’t get it..” His brows furrow, the inside of his cheek caught between his teeth as the knife drops from your neck. “Thought you liked this, us, I mean”, he continues, his free hand traveling down your side before coming to rest on your hip. — You go to shake your head once more but quickly stop when you catch his expression. 
“We.. It just wasn’t right, okay?” You try to make it sound as painless as possible, choosing to leave out the details of the hell he’d put you through. Yeonjun shakes his head, readjusting the grip on the knife as his eyes snap back to yours. “I’ll make it right”, he states and before you have the chance to question him, does he connect your lips in a desperate kiss. 
You try to push him back, nails clawing at his chest but it’s to no avail. “We can go back to how things used to be”, he breathes against you, tongue invading your mouth and you gasp. Sure Yeonjun had gone to extreme lengths over the past six months in order to get you back, but this was a whole new level. And as the dull end of the knife slides up your thigh, you let out a terrified scream against his lips. 
“No, no, no, shh”, he hushes you with a hand on your mouth, eyes darting around the alleway anxiously before they return to you. “I would never hurt you baby.” The phrase is all too familiar and your stomach draws into knots. Still, your hands give up on pushing him away, instead they anchor themselves in his shirt as you exhale. 
He flips the blade, using the pointy tip to slice through your long dress as he creates a makeshift slit in the fabric. “Don’t worry, I promise to take care of you this time”, he murmurs, brows furrowed as he lets the flat of the blade press against your naked skin. The cool sensation sends shivers through your body and you shudder. 
“Just like how it used to be”, he repeats to himself as his hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties, fingers slipping down to part your folds as he drags them along your cunt. You know you should stop him, call the cops, have him locked up, make him go away. So why couldn’t you, why did you let him do this? 
The knife now rests against your chest, his grip on it is lazy as he focuses on his fingers inside your weeping cunt, eyes glued to the scene of them disappearing before withdrawing covered in slick. You could easily take it from him, overpower him, he was weak when it came to you. But you don’t. 
Instead you let your head fall back against the brick behind you, a shallow moan passing through your lips as your nails dig into the apex of his shoulders. “See, I always make you feel so good”, Yeonjun hums as he slides a third finger inside, curling it along with the others as he pulls a small cry from you. 
He seems to regather focus as he grips the knife firmly again, letting it trace along your exposed collarbone, watching with great fascination as you shudder in both fear and arousal. 
Perhaps you liked his sadistic ways, perhaps that's why you let him terrorize you like this. Perhaps that was why you had yet to report him to the police, why you’d let this go on for six months.. Did you crave the validation he gave you? Or were you in love with the idea of being loved by him? You didn’t know, you didn’t want to think about it for either thought scared the living daylights out of you. 
“I love you, you know that?” He whispers, his fingers slowing to a more gentle pace as he momentarily withdraws to play with your soaked folds, briefly flicking over your clit, relishing in the way you moaned against him. It was all the confirmation he needed, it was what he needed to keep longing for you for another eternity. 
You weren’t in love with him, but you couldn’t imagine a life without him.
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kinktober taglist (send an ask to be added) — @sweetpotatogyu @aduh0308 @joieouioui @inkigayocamman @bambammtori @hkplushier @gyusoulz @eliluvsjjunie @velvetmoonlght @izzyy-stuff @hwanghyunjinismybae @lunathewritingcat @ninitorih @run4gyu @beestvng
© all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024
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wish-i-knew-what-i-am-doing · 2 months ago
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4. Garden
The very first time Lena had mentioned it, it was to tell Kara she couldn’t go with her to the farmer’s market the following Saturday.
"I’m sorry darling, I-I have to tend to my garden". Curiosity picked, Kara ignored the hesitation and the pet name and went directly to the questions burning on her tongue. "You have a garden?", "Since when do you have a garden?", "Why haven’t you mentioned it before?", "I feel like as your best friend, I should have know about that".
Lena chuckled at the now pouting blonde.
"I’ve had it for several years and only a handful of people know about it. And you know the old adage, it’s good to keep some kind of mystery. Secret garden and all that." She winked at the double entendre.
"But don’t worry, maybe I’ll show it to you one day, if you play your cards right", Lena added, eyes sparkling with mirth and cheeks slightly rosier than before.
She then left it at that, not offering any more details.
Over the following days, Kara tried to broach the subject again but Lena didn’t seem too willing to share this part of herself and remained evasive. So Kara decided to drop it for now even if, deep inside, she was dying to know more.
The next time the enigmatic garden was brought up again was entirely by accident. Kara had been thinking about it. A lot. But she was being a good friend to Lena and respected her privacy, so she had buttoned her lips.
Until one morning, a bit distracted, she entered Lena’s office and noticed a simple yet elegant flower arrangement on her desk. "Oh, those are beautiful! Are they from your garden?" She asked before realising she mentioned the forbidden topic.
"Sorry, I didn’t mean -"
Lena chuckled lightly. "It’s okay, Kara", she interrupted the blonde before she could launch herself into a ramble. "And no, those are not from my garden. But I do have roses and daisies in parts of it". She said as she gently touched the petal of one of the flower in question.
Time went by and as busy as they all were, the matter slipped out of Kara’s focus. It was still resurfacing every now and then, in passing, but Kara never got any additional information about it and it didn’t bothered all that much anymore.
More time went by and the pair found themselves growing closer to each other, slowly pushing the boundaries of their friendship.
Until finally, after a lot of flirting (from Lena’s side) and a lot of blushing (from Kara’s side), the blonde finally put her big girl pants on and asked her best friend out on a date.
One date turned into two and soon the two women were exploring the new aspects the romance brought to their relationship.
On the morning after their first night together, Kara woke up fully rested, delightfully sated and entirely happy. A blinding smile spreading across her face.
It must have still been early, as the light was just beginning to shine through her windows. Lena was still asleep beside her, resting on her own belly. Kara raised her head slightly to get a better look at the (very naked) sleeping beauty lying next to her.
She noticed some dark marks on the brunette’s back. Propping herself on her elbow, Kara was then greeted with the view of an almost full back tattoo.
How had she not noticed that the night before? was Kara’s first question. She decided to blame it on eagerness and the sweet taste of Lena’s lips.
She brought up a hand to delicately trace the ink, making Lena stir. Only then did she picked up on the drawings themselves: dozens and dozens of flowers, of various shapes and sizes.
It took her a second, but then it finally clicked.
"The secret garden!", Kara gasped loudly.
That fully roused Lena, who turned around, laughing gleefully.
"I did tell you I would show it to you were you to play your cards right." She said, making Kara blush. "And I guess you have" she continued before raising a hand to bring Kara down in a heated kiss.
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stereotypicalsanriofemme · 11 months ago
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Staggered moans draw from your butch’s chest as you watch her heave, drunk on the air that was your scent. It was that god forsaken time of year— mating season. The time of year where you got wet from the slightest motion from your alpha, and the time of year where it was impossible to not have her hands all over you. It always culminates at one point or another; a pot boiling over, a tea kettle finally screaming. A rut or a heat: whichever was drawn out first of the other.
“Hey, darling,” you said, taking a gentle step forward. Her teeth bare a little more at the small advance and she takes one step back, as if it was a practiced dance. “Are…you okay?”
“Baby,” she whined between slightly-elongated canines. “I…fuck, I didn’t expect it to hit so soon…”
“It’s okay,” you encouraged, giving her a soft smile, hand reaching out. “Is it your rut?”
What a diminutive question. Of course it was— the fucking smell of her arousal, strong like musk with cedarwood and citrus, permeated the whole damn room. No shit that she was in rut.
She gave a pained nod. “You…should probably go,” she said, pausing irregularly as if it hurt to just be in your presence. “I don’t…want to hurt you.”
She was always like this. Too kind, too caring, too perfect. She was the dream alpha for any yearning omega and you somehow lucked out with her, having her in your hands for six months now and going. You knew heats were inevitable, no different than the seasons changing. You just wanted to give her back the love and care she’s given you.
“Baby,” you said, voice quiet. “I want to help you out, please—“
“Absolutely not.” She snarled, and okay, that made some slick leak out of your sensitive cunt. Filing that away in a box for a later moment, you listen to her: “I could hurt you— fuck, I could bite you and force you to me for years, baby. I could make you bleed, I could force you through pain and I’d be too far gone to realize what I’ve done. You’re so perfect, I just don’t want to hurt you—“
“Why do you think as if I’m made of glass?!” You interject. “Please, I just want to help you this cycle. I don’t want to see you suffer, baby, please…”
Her expression is pained. “I… are you sure?” She asked, wavering. “I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you, Angel…”
“Alpha,” you cried, and holy shit; the wood doorframe your butch used to hold herself up fucking splintered and cracked under her grasp.
“Bedroom,” she growled, and in a trance from those words alone, you scurry to the bedroom with her close behind you.
The door slammed in time with her crashing her mouth against yours, grasping and squeezing your jaw open. The pressure on your face forced a high-pitched whine out of your throat as her tongue forced into your mouth, licking over every ounce of your being. She’s pressed so fucking close to you, and oh, fuck, is that her cock pressed against your leg because that feels way bigger than usual—
“God, I love you so much,” she moaned while kissing you, biting down your neck while you fumbled with the buttons on your shirt. Your hands were quickly shoved out of the way the second she tore open your blouse, buttons popping to the ground.
“Hey!” You exclaimed, looking tragically at the buttons on the floor. “I really liked that shirt—“
“I’ll buy you a new one for every time you make me come with that pretty little cunt of yours,” she gritted out, and a whimper escaped your throat as she grabbed you from the thighs and hoisted you up against the wall. Another kiss is ripped from you with her hand against your throat, making you go just a bit limp from how damn good it feels, and all of a sudden you’re being tossed onto the bed like a doll. You look up after the impact of the fall with eager eyes, and see the normal rut glow in her eyes dissipate for just a second.
“Fuck, are you okay?!” She exclaimed, rushing over to you.
“Yes, more than okay,” you encouraged, rubbing her arm. “It’s all okay, baby, don’t force yourself out of a rut for me. I can take it.”
She’s shaking from anxiety, you realize. “Are you sure?” She murmured. “I‘ll…probably be really rough…”
“And that’s a problem how?” You teased. Spreading your legs to show off the panties between your legs wet with slick, you grinned. “C’mon, pretty boy. Show me what a big bad alpha can do, yeah?”
She puffed out air as she moved towards the dresser instead of you, yanking out a clanking, metal contraption.
“Handcuffs? Ooh, kinky,” you teased.
“They’re for me,” she said, and your eyebrows rose a little. “I just…can’t risk hurting you, so please. Handcuff me to the bed. Please,” she begged.
Wordlessly, you nodded, and she moved slowly to the bed and laid down, hands above her head. You affixed the handcuffs above her head, watching her clench them into fists over and over.
“You…want me to ride you?” You murmured, and she nodded desperately.
“Please,” she groaned, grinding into the air, eyes getting that typical alpha glow in them again. “I need some fucking relief from it all, so please baby…”
Thank god for the fact you self lubricated, because the moment you took her pants off you noticed her cock was at least an inch longer than usual and much thicker. You slid the head of her cock between your folds and you moaned together, her at the slick warmth of your cunt and you at the thickness prodding at your entrance. With a deep breaths you pressed the thickness into the entrance and whined upon feeling yourself get stretched open, the utter girth of her cock pressing against every sensitive spot in your pussy. The friction of her cock inside and rubbing your walls was quickly interrupted once you bottomed out, entrance pressing against the extra bulge at the bottom of her cock. Oh fuck, that was her knot.
It was your turn to be breathing heavy, eyes watering from the length inside of you and the way you could feel her pulse and throb inside your tight cunt. “Alpha,” you whined, twitching from the feeling inside. “You’re so big…”
“Jesus fucking Christ, baby, your pussy feels so damn good,” she heaved, hips bucking up ever so slightly into the warm hole. You made a pathetic little chirp at every upward thrust into your cunt, biting onto your lip like a lifeline. The cock was still so overwhelming but you hesitantly lifted up yourself on your legs, trembling with all of your strength before dropping down again with a wet smack.
The noise ripped out of your alpha’s chest was feral, a moan combined with a half-roar, grinding into the perfect, needy hole wrapping around it. You could smell it in the air with how her scent got more intense by the second— she was losing her mind to her rut. Her hands were struggling more against the handcuffs as her hips rut up and up again in your hole. You knew damn well that just rutting wouldn’t be enough for the relief she needed…
And you know what, maybe the idea that popped into your mind wasn’t your best one yet, but my god, did it sound so good. You had only heard the filthy line in your brain spewed in pornos, moaned by needy omegas getting their cunts pumped till they cried. Yet…
“Alpha,” you sobbed out, “breed me, please!”
Her eyes shot open wide with a loud crack in the background. The sound of metal breaking into two clean pieces. You were instantly flipped on your back, legs shoved next to your ears, and shit, talk about something from porn because you were in a fucking mating press. In a mating press, like the good little omega bitch you were, with an alpha’s cock pressed into your cunt, the head kissing your cervix.
The pace she started immediately was relentless, depraved. She fucked you with the hunger of a man starved, your lower back no longer on the bed as she drilled into your pussy over and over.
“Slutty fucking omega,” she growled, letting her knot slap against your rim and balls smack against you over and over again. “You probably wanted this the whole time, didn’t you?”
“Yes!! Fuck, yes, yes, yes, alpha! Please—!” You exclaimed in ecstasy, nails dragging down her back, leaving reddened trails as a trophy for the next morning. “Wan’ your cock, alpha, pleaaaase!”
“‘Course you did, you fucking slut,” she groaned into your ears, thrusting into you with your sweet slick coating her cock, leaning everywhere. “You want my cum? Yeah?”
“Yes!” You shrieked, clinging closer. “Please, alpha, give me your cum!”
“Yeah? Wanna be a good little breeding bitch for me?” She moaned, thrusting into your pussy with a newfound aggression. “Carry my fucking litter? Huh? Wanna take my litter and give alpha some pups?”
You can only moan brokenly in response as her cock continued to batter your cervix, your legs still pressed next to your ears. Maybe this was your place. Maybe you were meant to be a good, warm hole for a big, strong alpha; a dripping bitch in heat to be taken care of and always pumped full of cum.
“C’mon, omega, take my fucking knot,” she growled, and only then do you feel the bulging in her cock grow larger and larger, smacking against your entrance and bullying its way into your pussy. An unfamiliar sensation creeped up into your body— a tightness in your cunt, a burning sensation.
“Alpha, wait, wait, wait, alpha,” you cry brokenly, clutching against her back and holding right as the knot grew bigger and bigger, entering your cunt with every thrust, “Somethin’s coming out, alpha—!”
She was so out of it, teeth bared and staring at you like you were prey. And all of a sudden, that burning feeling snapped, and you squirted. The fluid splattered as your ears rang the moment hee knot popped inside, your cunt finally stretched open and plugged with her fat knot locking her cum inside of your pussy. Everything was hazy; your orgasm milking more and more cum out of her cock that shot inside of you. It was a pleasant warmth inside of you. You felt satisfied, as if you had a purpose. You felt full.
Your panting breaths slow down over time with hers, clutching each other post-orgasm. She nuzzled your neck with the comedown, knot shoved inside of you, keeping the cum where it’s supposed to be. Just the thought made you a little more horny— the knot was there to make sure you got knocked up with your alpha’s litter. It didn’t sound like a bad idea at this point, spending some much time with your alpha, forever…the idea makes another wet gush of slick come out around her cock. However, this time it felt like a lot more, like your body was preparing itself for—
Your alpha suddenly goes still from scenting you.
“Omega…did you just start your heat?”
…it was going to be a long week.
[made 4 lesbians, lesbians interact :3 straight people this fantasy was not made for you please DNI]
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