#and its like fuck it was right in front of us the whole time. the information was always there

[do-you-have-a-flag]

text of the above screenshots:

Some further clarification about things people were asking in the comments.

Tina spoke fluent English without an accent. She's either native or has been speaking it since very young.

We'd also spoken early that morning when she arrived, over the phone (woke me up where I was sleeping upstairs, but whatever, I'd rather too much communication than too little), because she wanted to clarify about the squash. She specifically acknowledged the concept of squash, and asked if it was near the kale she was seeing. I said that sounded right, and that it should be labeled. She said okay. I reminded her that if she couldn't find it, to ask my roommate for help.

The rats were on the top shelf of our freezer-top fridge so that you'd have to be leaning down to even see it, and no kale would be in its vicinity. Three people live in this house, so it's always full. Lots of options if you're gonna go rogue.

She didn't know I had snakes, unless she'd seen them in their bins in the living room, which is possible (it looks like a filling cabinet with clear plastic drawers and sometimes they come to the front). They're very quiet pets and don't even count with my landlord, so sometimes I forget to mention them when people ask about pets, as they usually are asking due to allergy concerns. So when the agency asked, I was focused on our cats. They know now, of course. But Tina had no reason to think she should be preparing a pet's meal. That was never established as something among her duties when I met with her and an agency nurse the day before to go over everything.

Also, snakes can't eat cooked meat, even if it's safely prepared. It will make them sick. So they could not still be used.

The discovery: storytime

If you want to see video evidence: investigation

UPDATE (added here since the sub automod was being weird):

Apologies for the late update. As I’m sure you can imagine, the last week was exhausting.

This is just to give what closure I can and go over how my last conversation with Tina went, the day after the incident.

When I was on my way to the cafe to escape the house last Tuesday, she actually texted me with an apology, saying “I’m so sorry, I feel so stupid and bad, this never happened before,” and offering to pay me back for the rats and the dish as I had mentioned the rats were expensive. Which is honestly more than I was expecting, but, “never happened before?” Well I sure fucking hope so! Though that begs the question, why now? Why me? I don’t know if there’s a good answer.

We agreed that she could come by the next day in the evening with the money ($15 for the rats, $30 for the dish). She declined doing Venmo or something similar. Possibly didn’t know how to use things like that, since I estimate by her comment of her grandson being my age, she had to be at minimum in her late 60s, probably older. I admit I was hesitant to have her return to the scene of the crime when it was still so unclear what her motivations had truly been, but I wouldn’t be home alone, and she had seemed sincerely contrite, if a bit defensive over the degree of my outrage.

Before the appointed time, she called me to tell me she was on her way, and then made, of all things, a request of me. She would be bringing by her time sheet, and could I sign for the two days she’d been there? I was baffled. The audacity of asking me a favor when our meeting was about her making amends, claiming that her time with me should count as doing her job, AND implying that her paying me back was to get something from me. Maybe that was why she wanted to do cash?

But at this point, I just wanted the whole thing over and done with, and it’s not like I was the one who’d be paying her, just my insurance. It was also confusing because…did that mean that she was still employed?? Surely if she’d been fired, she’d be less willing to play nice with me, would probably be blaming me more for how it affected her. At the very least, she seemed like the kind of person who would bring it up to make me feel a little bad. But maybe she wouldn’t, I don’t know. It was also strange because out of the three (now four) HHAs I’ve had at two different companies, none have ever asked me to sign a timesheet for them. Maybe some of y’all more familiar with the inner workings of these companies can shed some light here.

I was nervous when she showed up. There's something about seeing someone do something so truly unhinged that shatters the basic trust that this fellow human won’t do something else crazy, maybe something more harmful than running one out of the house. So I checked her hands through the window before I opened the door. She had two plastic bags half-full and bundled up to hide their contents under each arm. Strange choice for a weapon, so I chose faith.

There was no more apology upon greeting, she mostly just seemed in a hurry, civil but brusque, like she wanted this behind her as much as I did. While she was rummaging, I asked how she’d disposed of the dish (the follow-up to I made a video about linked in the original post if you want to see, you sickos). And as expected, the first thing she brought out was her timesheet. Sure enough, there was a place for patient signature, and as I took it and the proffered pen and set it against the doorframe to sign, I said, “We said $45, right?” just to confirm.

The look she gave me as she reached into her jacket was SO offended, and her civility evaporated. Like I was questioning her word, and how dare I. “I’m gonna pay you, I said I would.” Calm down, paranoid, was the tone.

It took all my self-control not to respond with, “You also said you’d cook the squash.” Like, yeah, lady, wonder why I would want to triple check anything we agreed to at this point. My bad.

But she did in fact hand me the wad of bills (after I’d handed back the timesheet and she’d checked it), and then she left in a bit of a huff. I just told her to take care of herself to her back.

At this point, after interacting with her again, I am of the opinion that this was simply from some form of psychosis, either a mental health thing or senility, I don’t know. Even talking to her, things were just a little off. Hard to describe, but it was like part of her attention was always somewhere else. I do not believe this was malicious or “weaponized incompetence” as many were saying in the Tik Tok comments. She had nothing to gain from this, and clearly she wants to keep her job. At this point, after the shock and horror has worn off, I just feel kind of bad for her. She clearly shouldn’t be in this profession (which, btw, she said she’s been in for thirty years??), so I more blame these companies for not being more thorough in their hiring and training process. Psych evals should be par for the course, surely.

And I know I probably shouldn’t have, it’s none of my business, but it was eating at my conscience to not express my concern. Because I don’t know what’s going on in her life. When it comes to things like reality breaks and changes in behavior, it can be really hard to see for ourselves, and maybe the people in her life aren’t saying anything, and so she’s not seeking the help she needs. So I texted her a little while after she left.

I thanked her for taking responsibility, acknowledged I was butting in, and then brought up how she said this had never happened before and how she’d seemed confused about how it happened. And that if this was a new kind of thing or there’d been other weird things happening, it might be a good idea to talk to a doctor, just in case something else is going on that needs to be addressed, as gently and non-judgmentally as I could think to say. And I ended it with “But if I’m way off base and out of line, and you’re just used to people eating like that, I apologize and wish you the best.” After a day of silence, she sent two texts, copied here:

“K thank you people make mistakes”

“God bless have a good day”

That was and I’m sure will remain the last I heard from her. I’m sorry I can’t recount some detailed confession about how it had all been a nefarious plot by some vengeful ex who’d had their aunt impersonate an aide to poison me. That would have made for a much more satisfying story.

As for my current aide situation, I’m still working with the replacement they sent to me, but have already requested a new one. She’s sane and competent, but alas, it would seem she much exaggerated her English fluency to my coordinator (who sounded resigned to such a deceit). In any other service context, I wouldn’t care, we have translator apps, but I think we’ve seen how critical clear and easy communication can be when one person is relying on another to meet their needs while sick. Others have told me how long it can take to find a good fit, so I guess I’ll just have to keep spinning the revolving door until I do.

Also, I have put in a request for the agency to reimburse me the takeout I had to get myself that day. And the oven has been cleaned and sanitized to within an inch of its life and seems okay now? I dunno, asking for a replacement or suing anyone seems like a lot of hassle (especially when I already have a medical malpractice case in the works).

Thank you to everyone for taking an interest in my harrowing experience and for your support. It legitimately turned this into something more light hearted that I can laugh at now, where it would have remained traumatic otherwise.

May your squash always be squash.

§ § ----==---- [🐀🐀🐀]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[mywritersmind]

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4

↳ pt.3

summary : Feelings are complicated and you and Lando aren’t a great mix to express them. A tension filled boat that leads to sexual chemistry so thick that you end up in the same bed.

og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.

listen up : ho this is long. suggestive comments!! hope you like part three!!! muah! previous part

word count : 4142

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Boat day! Boat day!” Alex chants while walking down the dock with Lily on his shoulders. I woke up to over a hundred texts to get to the dock with a swimsuit and sunscreen.

Charles’ friend doesn’t just have a boat he has a fucking yacht. It’s not gigantic but it’s definitely the nicest boat I've ever seen. “Uh Charles… you do know how to drive this, right?”

Alexandra shares my worried stare as Lando and Carlos race each other onto it. Kika throws her arm around me and grins as we walk onto the back. There’s four steps and my jaw drops as we go ‘inside’.

There’s a huge couch that turns into a dining area, a TV, followed by a small kitchen. Kika and I hurry to the front where there’s one day bed that shaded and one in the very front that’s for tanning.

Apparently there’s three bedrooms and two bathrooms! “I think I need a yacht.” I say to Kika as we check out the table and chairs on the side.

She looks like a mermaid today, in a bright blue bikini and sparkly nail polish. I’ve taken more of a siren route in dark red.

I’m all for woman doing things in ‘male’ fields, but I let the men figure out how to get the boat working. Alexandra, Lily, Kika, Rebecca and I, put our things down in one of the rooms and make our way to the Bow where the sun is hitting us perfectly.

Rebecca pulls off her shirt to reveal a light pink one piece while Lily runs over with a speaker in a multicolored bikini. We start blasting Dominic fine as Charles evidently figured the boat out, and we start to leave.

The moment we only see clear blue water, the girls turn to me. I’m laid out on the tanning bed, sunnies on and fully ready to take a sunny nap, but Rebecca pokes me.

“So, you and Lando are still alive!” She says the obvious as I sit up and lean against my arms, “How’d it go!?”

I want to tell them everything. I want to tell them that It was genuinely fun and I had a great time and i’ve never laughed harder, but I can’t. I shrug, “It was okay.”

Alex eyes me, “Just… okay?”

I nod, “He fucked up my plan so we didn’t go anything crazy and we got kicked out of a pottery place.”

Kika perks up at this, “Pottery? Did he do that thing like how the movie stars do it?” She gets behind Lily as they start to recreate those weird sexual pottery scenes.

I roll my eyes, “No. Like I said, we got kicked out. Then we just went to the hotel and split up.”

Lily frowns, “Lando said you two got a drink.”

Shit. “Oh right, I went to sleep pretty early.”

Kika groans and falls down next to me, “So nothing happened at all? No flirting, no kissing?”

Lots of flirting and fuck yes kissing!

I love my friends, and I trust them! I just don’t trust them to not tell their boyfriends. “Did you have this ‘couples day’ just so Lando and I would have a chance of hooking up?”

Lily leans in, “So is there a chance!?”

I look at all of them to make sure everyone is listening, “No chance! I told you I wanted to have a fun vacation which does not include you trying to set me up!”

Rebecca slouches a bit, “You’re right.”

“Sorry.” Alex mumbles, “We just feel bad.”

“It’s not your fault i’m single and you’re not.” I stand, “I’m going to get some water.”

My plan to hide away on the couch is immediately ruined by Lando taking up the whole thing. He’s scrolling on his phone, shirt and shoes off.

I turn quickly and go downstairs, running into Pierre, “Hey Y/n! Looking for something?”

“Uh… water?”

There’s a little mini fridge that he pulls a bottle from, “You okay?” Pierre is sweet and it makes me happy for Kika.

“Yeah!” I open the bottle and drink.

“Just that… Lando told us what happened.” I choke on the water, coughing as his eyes get panicked, “What!?”

“Are you- Uh… He just said that you two ended the night weird. We all thought it would magically turn you into friends but I guess not.” Fucking hell he just scared me so bad.

“Oh! Right… I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.” So everyone was rooting for us to become friends yesterday?

Pierre just shrugs and moves past me, walking up the stairs without another word.

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m playing poker with my friends while the girls dance around the front deck. We’re anchored on the water and after an hour of swimming, we all needed to pause.

I’m shit at poker but it doesn’t matter because i’m already distracted by the shadow of a girl through the window.

I kissed her. I kissed her and she’s avoiding me.

I think i’m an idiot but I know i’m not because anyone smart would fall for her. Not that I'm in love or anything, I’m just… intrigued?

“Lan?” Alex kicks me under the table, “What’s got you so uninterested in money?”

I just shake my head and look back down at my cards, “Something happened, didn’t it?” Pierre asks, clocking my weird mood. “With Y/n.”

“No.” She would kill me if I told, and I already said too much by drunkenly explaining that the night did not end well to Alex and Lily.

They would definitely tell their girlfriends, so I keep my mouth shut, “You’re a shit liar.” Carlos says, “But whatever, None of my business.”

Charles frowns, “Totally our business! We all love Y/n and want to know what happened!”

“Nothing happened.” I shake my head, taping a chip against the table, “Drop it.”

Just then, Y/n walks in while clutching her hand, her face scrunched up, “I need a bandaid asap.” Charles stands quickly and grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet, “Your girlfriend pushed me off the boat!” She points to Pierre who cringes.

She’s soaking wet, her hair dripping water onto the floor as she crosses her legs. She's in a red bikini and I think I might faint.

I instantly feel bad when I remember her hand is bleeding and i’m just checking her out. Kika runs in, “I’m so sorry, Y/n!”

Y/n just shakes her head, walking over to the kitchen and washing off her hand, wincing at the pain, “Don’t worry It’s just a scratch, i’m just joking.”

I stand and walk over, looking over the sink to get a better look at her hand. She’s got a cut along the side of her hand, bloody and sort of gross. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nods without saying anything, just turning to Charles who has his kit ready.

I bite my lip and sort of awkwardly walk towards Carlos who’s already watching me. “The fuck did you do?”

⋆༺

YOU

Besides my little incident with my hand, I’m having a great time.

Charles drives us to a secluded area with caves which you can swim in. I personally stay out in the open air but Rebecca, Pierre, Charles, and Alexandra check them out.

I sit in a tube with my head tilted back and my hair floating around me. My stomach and chest are warm while my back is cold against the water.

Someone dives in near me and I can hear my laughing as they jump and flip off the boat. I regret opening my eyes as soon as I do because I catch Lando back flipping off the boat.

It’s one of those moments where I don’t remember why I don’t like him. I suppose that’s not as true now, but seeing him flip off is still hot as hell.

I end up dunking and swimming back to the boat, sitting on the back where my feet dangle in the water. I know Lando’s the one walking down and sitting next to me before I see him.

“Hey.” He sounds nervous and quick.

“Hi.” I stand and walk up the stairs, screwing up my face and mentally yelling at myself. I hide in the kitchen, grabbing some fruit before venturing out to sit with Lily and Alex.

They’re all cuddled up and giggling so I spare them my company and sit at the table on the side of the boat.

The music is quiet and I can hear my friends talking across the boat. I bite into a strawberry and stare at the water below.

My anxiety is through the roof and i’m on a boat in fucking turkey. I’m annoyed that Lando just being near me is making me on edge.

As if he heard me, his head pokes out from behind the door, his hair wet and his eyes shining. “We’re gonna take off soon. Might wanna hold on cause of Charles’ driving.”

“Ok.” It’s like I can’t control my feet. I just stand and walk past him, giving him a quick smile and leaving him.

I then interrupt Alex and Lily, loudly stepping down the steps so they sit up. I hear everyone else getting out of the water and Lily can tell something wrong immediately.

“Could you get me some water?” She turns to Alex who gives her a quizzical look.

“You can’t do it yours-” She gives him another look which he immediately understands. Alex leaves quickly and Lily hurries over to me. I sit with my knees to my chest as she puts her hand on my arm.

“What happened? For real this time, what’s wrong?”

I look up at her, our friends walking past and up to the kitchen. I try to say it but I just groan and shove my face into my knees, “Y/n!”

I mumble it but she pokes my face so I look back up at her. I take a breath and force it out, “Lando kissed me.” And then she screams.

I shove my hand over her mouth so fast that her scream is muffled. We practically wrestle as she tries to get my hand free, “Lily!” She licks my hand and I gasp, pulling it off her.

“I’ll stop! I’ll stop!” She shuts her mouth and sits on her feet, staring at me, “We saw him last night… He looked drunk and completely in a different world.”

I groan into my hands, laying back on the cushion, “We were drunk! Sort of… We had a great day and it was actually fun like the type of thing friends do.” she nods at my words, “But then we were on the beach drinking and joking and he just… kissed me.”

Lily leans in, whispering, “Did you kiss him back?”

I bite my lip at the memory, nodding slowly. She screams again. I lay face down on the cushion as she taps my shoulder repeatedly and the boat starts to move. “Was it like a peck or make out?”

My cheeks get red so she already knows the answer, “Who stopped it?”

“Me? I think.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes… God, Lily!” she’s smiling at me again, “He’s a good kisser. Also please don’t tell anyone! Especially the girls. I just don’t want it getting around or making anything awkward.”

“Of course I won’t! Even Alex, I promise.” she attaches her pinky to mine and grins, “I have so many questions and we will talk about this later but I have one thing I need to ask.”

I sigh, “Go ahead.”

“Do you want it to happen again?” I think I'm going to be sick.

⋆༺

LANDO

I find Lily and Y/n at the front, Y/n looks panicked at my appearance. “Can I talk to you?” She looks at me, then Lily.

I actually think she’s going to jump off the boat to avoid talking to me. But instead she goes for a quicker route, “I gotta pee.” I roll my eyes as she runs inside, slipping a bit at the wet deck.

Lily and I both watch her run, she just blinks and shrugs, “Good luck with that one.” She probably told Lily and it’s making me ultra aware that she knows I kissed her friend.

I settle back inside on the couch, listening to Charles tell a story while my eyes are completely distracted by Y/n laughing with her friends and eating raspberries.

I need to talk to her. She’s got a good poker face when she isn’t blushing and it’s practically impossible to get her alone.

“What about you, Lando? The only single one left!” Alex laughs and nudges my arm.

I laugh awkwardly, “Right.” I know the girls can hear this and I don’t want it to continue.

“So… how many models are you talking to?” Carlos asks as I scratch the back of my neck.

I shift my gaze to Y/n, who’s looks frustratingly good with her back arched, her elbows on the counter, and her eyes trying not to meet mine.

I run my tongue over my teeth and look back at Carlos, “You really wanna make that joke when your girlfriends a model, Sainz?” His face drops immediately and he punches my arm.

Charles and Pierre are crying laughing, “You two really wanna laugh?” They shut up real quick which makes me hear Y/n’s laugh.

It makes me smile and as soon as I realize why, I stop. “What about that girl you were debating on bringing?” Pierre snaps back fast.

“Hey, I was drunk and-”

“Pussy whipped!” Pierre coughs as Kika throws a raspberry at his head.

My friends start a new conversation (per the girls request) and move it out to the deck, Charles and Pierre arguing in french while they drive. I watch Y/n excuse herself and slip inside, and I follow.

I corner her outside the bathroom, her hands brushing through her half dried hair. She freezes, “Excuse me.”

She tries to walk past but I don’t let her. “Did I overstep?” She looks at me confused still, “Because I feel like an asshole.”

“No… You didn’t overstep.”

I groan, placing my hand next to her head against the wall, “So then talk to me.”

She crosses her arms, “I don’t want to.”

“Tough shit. You kissed me back.”

“I wish I didn’t.” She’s not looking me in my eyes and I haven’t been able to forget how she kissed me so I know she’s lying.

I step closer, “Try again, pretty.”

She looks up at me, her mouth pouty and her eyes big. “It was a mistake…”

I frown, “Mistakes can happen more than once.”

“Not this kind.” She lets out a breath, “I can’t stand you.”

“So use me.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Y/n bites her lip and it takes everything in me not to physically whine. “You’re not mine to use.”

“I’m offering.”

“I’m rejecting.” that hurts way more than I expected.

“I’ll get on my knees.” Her hand goes to my arm that’s braced against the wall, her touch is soft and makes me weak.

I swallow and she clocks it instantly. “Go on, then.” I think I'm dreaming, but I’m not one to pinch myself.

I slowly sink to my knees, my hand trailing down the side of her body. I didn’t think she’d say yes. Right here? Where anyone could find us? I’ve never been more down for anything in my entire life.

She smiles, cute and innocent as if i’m not kneeling in front of her. God she’s beautiful. Her tanned leg moves to my shoulder and just as I think she’s about to pull me in, she shoves me back down.

I stare at her from my new place on the floor, her smile much wider now. She gets down to my level as I try to pull myself back up, she pushes me back down. “In your dreams, Norris.”

I breathe out as she walks up the stairs, my view cushioning the embarrassment I feel, “Trust me, you will be.”

⋆༺

YOU

My lovely friends have decided to have another lovely couples night. I honestly am excited to have a moment of peace after today's day.

I get all dressed up in my favorite outfit. A red cocktail dress that fits like a glove, white heels, and my hair wavy and salty.

I’m in a great mood, it’s the type of mood where i’m avoiding everything but am by the ocean so I can’t be sad! Everything is nice and well until I get turned away at the restaurant.

It’s the one place close to the hotel that I haven’t been, “I’m sorry, there just isn’t any table for tonight.”

So it appears that every single person has decided to settle down and wallow in self pity at this restaurant, “Please!”

“I’m sorry, we just can’t have you sit unless you have another-”

I hear him swear before I see him. He’s dressed up too, arguing with another waiter as he sets eyes on me, “Great.”

Lando’s face below me flashes in my mind as he looks at me as if he wishes I was anybody else, “I’ll eat with her.”

“Don’t seem so happy.” I cross my arms, my clutch in my hand as he walks closer.

“My beautiful date.” The word beautiful makes me drop my annoyed expression and I'm lucky he’s looking at the hostess, “One table, for two, please.”

We’re shown our table, given water and ordered drinks, but I refuse to talk first. Lando seems to have the same idea, sipping his drink and looking out at the dark water.

Still, He clears his throat and looks at me. His jacket is hung over the chair, a curl falling just perfectly down, and with his green eyes in the moonlight, he looks like a prince.

“Have a good day, pretty?”

“Are you small talking me now, Norris?”

His brow quirks as he brings his glass to his lips, “You’ve been ignoring me all day, what else am I supposed to say? Would you rather me beg?”

Maybe I would. “I saw Kika push you into the water today. You hit your head?” I fake pity, pouting.

“I must have because suddenly I'm imagining a very pretty girl run her very pretty hands through my hair.” He sits up straighter, “Hm… must be the head injury.”

I thought I would be more upset because of our dining situation. But I find myself smiling as he teases me. We order and he does the oddest thing… he starts asking me about my life.

“I know you. I’ve been around you. I’ve kissed you. Yet I don’t even know where you live.” I’m surprised but should I be? Just because I didn’t like him, doesn’t mean I didn’t laugh at his jokes.

So we start talking. And for about an hour and a half, it’s all we do. We talk with a side of food and a beautiful view. We talk about Formula 1, we talk about my work, we talk about my hair, we talk about his family.

He asks me about my pets and he doesn’t complain when I make a jab at his food which is plain as can be.

It’s the first time that I really believe we could be friends. It’s when I truly see the potential that my friends have seen. “We were too alike.” I snap my fingers together, swirling my pasta, “That’s why I hated you.”

“So you hated yourself? That’s quite harsh, pretty.” He’s finished his food, and is lounging in his chair. The restaurant is almost empty, we could sit wherever we’d like and leave too, but I keep talking.

“No. I mean you just clashed with me because two of the same personality is too much.”

“I think I think ‘too much’. Has me enjoying our date.”

I shake my head, “Not a date.”

“Totally a date.” He winks and I drop the subject.

“I think I didn’t like you because I liked you.” He says it so casually that I almost don’t understand it.

“What?”

“I really like you.” He nods and I wonder how many glasses of wine he’s had, “Y/n, i’m not drunk. I’m just honest. Don’t freak out i’m not gonna get down on one knee…” this makes him smirk, “Or two!”

“You can’t just dislike someone because you fancy them!”

“I don’t fancy you! I just… like you. I like the way you are around me and I really liked messing with you. You’re easy to frustrate.”

“I am not!” He raises a brow and I shut my mouth.

“Let’s get going… everyone’s party already at the beach club. You wouldn’t want to miss your local lovers.”

“Um… are you dining and dashing? We have to pay.” He scoffs. Actually scoffs at me!

“I already did. Come on.” He takes my bag and walks out.

At my request, Mamma mia plays from his phone as we walk down the path next to the beach. I spin around with my heels in my hand and my hair in my face. “Why can’t I live on an island!?”

“Why can’t you?”

I eye him, “I’ll live on an island when you buy me one.”

“Woah- I bought you dinner and you just started to tolerate me… Save the island for next week.” I smile and almost trip over something that hisses.

“Aw!” I practically scream and kneel down to it. It’s a tiny cat, orange and brown and rubbing against my outstretched hand, “Oh my god!”

“It’s gonna bite you.” I just roll my eyes and tug at his pant leg to join me.

The cat takes to him immediately, rubbing up against his leg and clawing up to his chest. I laugh as it falls off and comes back to me, “Cutie…”

I scratch its ear with my nicely done nails which he clearly appreciates. He starts licking my hand and I wish I had something to feed him. A small smile settles on my lips as the cool breeze brushes back my hair.

I look up to see Lando staring at me. “I really did mean it, when I said you were beautiful.” I feel a little sick at his words. The good kind of sick. The butterflies kind of sick.

The cat runs away when someone joins us on the path and I stand with him, “We should hurry, party time.”

⋆༺

LANDO

She left her purse in my room. We were heading back and I had to put down my jacket so we stopped in my room.

She left her bag which explains why she’s standing at my door in a matching pajama set and hotel slippers on her feet

“I need my mints.” She pushes past me and looks around for it. I help her because I have no idea where she put it either.

She had guys buy her drinks all night. You have no idea how much it killed me to see them all over her as if she wasn’t having dinner with me an hour before.

“Your room is a mess.” she says as she tears apart my nicely made bed.

“You’re tipsy, huh?”

She giggles as I lean against the door frame. She falls on my bed and looks up at the ceiling, “Guys love me!”

I shake my head and yawn. I finally find her bag, it’s in the bathroom for some reason and when I come back into my room to hand her it, she’s passed out on my bed.

“Y/n!” I shake her a bit but she only slaps my hand away, “You are so close to being in the correct bed! I found your purse.”

Her eyes open slightly, then she rolls over and moans louder, “Shh!” Then she’s out like a light. I hear her soft breathing and rustling around as I give up and sit next to her.

“I’m not sleeping on the couch!” I tell her but I know she’s already asleep.

She looks oddly peaceful. She looks tan and happy, even asleep on my bed. I accept my fate quicker than I probably should have, “Goodnight, then, pretty.” Flipping off the lights and pulling the blanket over her, I slip next to her and push a pillow in between us.

I don’t want her to wake up screaming after all.

I see her outline in the dark, the weight of someone sharing my bed, and the smell of her perfume I know is going to be there tomorrow. I see her, and curse myself.

She really is beautiful.

[hamable]

I need Brennan to win an award. I need the world to know how exceptional a storyteller he is. How do you plan something like this?

I’m suddenly seeing the rat grinders as a sort of self insert for him. Not character-wise, but as tools for writing a mystery. Usually you start with the solution and work backwards. Brennan had to concoct this solution and prepare for every possible thing that the best DnD players he’s ever known might do to crack his story wide open. He needed an entire party of character foils whose primary goal was to cover their tracks and account for periphery details to outsmart The Bad Kids. An unfathomable amount of work to be able to tell this story at the pace it’s being told.

I found myself remarking earlier in the season how much planning and foreknowledge he had to have to have the variety of dome projections from @caitmayart he does and now I realize that’s just scratching the surface.

[insertsickusername13]

something something in the endless battle between pressure and gravity, gravity always wins something something Jake Dillinger is breaking and Jake Dillinger can't stop himself from plummeting something something so it turns out even Jake Dillinger can't win every war

[gibbearish]

anyways. have yall seen the deliverance. and if yes have you read the wikipedia article. because like. that woman 100% was literally just straight up abusing her kids and used the church to get out of it. the movie doesnt even try to hide it that hard. "based on a true story" except of course for all of the important bits of context like how the cps agent was not in fact a nonbeliever in the supernatural before switching to her side and never did so and that the kid could only walk up the wall with his grandma's help and that none of the prior tenants had similar experiences (@ trey whered you go) and the POLICE CHIEF BELIEVED IN DEMONS BEFORE MEETING HER !! and that every SINGLE thing that happened in real life can be (and fucking IS) explained by child abuse. half the time the movie is just like "ok yeah sure maybe she was abusing her kids, but only because demons made her do it". and then drop little hints that she was in jail before for Something (doesn't say what but i can guess) and that her drinking problems are well established and that her oldest son was stockpiling money to get away from her long before they moved to that house. also i could be misreading the timeline but seems like her supernatural experiences only started after her own abusive mother moved back in with her which can SO easily trigger old wounds to come back to the surface so like OF COURSE youre gonna start seeing shit, disturbances can be a ptsd symptom !!!!

tldr; fuck latoya ammons so hard, if this is the made-presentable-for-tv version then like. i want to say i cant imagine what the real life version was like, but i very much can. and for that, fuck her. immensely. i hope her children are actively writing a rebuttal and/or reaching out to lawyers to sue her ass as we speak.

[abnormallycreative]

.

[strang3lov3]

Bedridden

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥

Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)

Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼

There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter. 

Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there. 

And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew. 

Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.

Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration. 

You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.” 

Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.” 

“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.” 

Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.” 

“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add. 

“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.” 

“Joel, you look awful.”

You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes. 

“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.” 

“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”

“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”

In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.” 

“Taking care of you,” you reply.

“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”

Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been. 

Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.” 

“You are, too.” 

“Am not.” 

“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.

“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.” 

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”

You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.” 

“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.

“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”

You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle. 

Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?” 

“Happy.”

You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.

Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things. 

Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed. 

In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.

Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home. 

You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“I have your clothes. And a towel.”

“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.” 

You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him. 

“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.” 

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.” 

You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases. 

In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.

“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”

You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”

Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.” 

“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”

“Plenty.”

“How much is plenty?”

“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.” 

“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.” 

Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse. 

You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.” 

You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Mind your business.” 

You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”

“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.” 

“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”

You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”

“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?” 

“Just lay down, Joel.” 

“Did you take that from my fridge?” 

“I did.”

You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”

“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.

Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so. 

And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!” 

“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.” 

“How many times do I have to say it?” 

“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.

You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him. 

Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.” 

Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”

“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.

“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.

“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.” 

You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time. 

The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.

“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”  

You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature. 

He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.

The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”

“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly. 

“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.” 

Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”

“No. Quit that.” 

But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.

“Are you falling asleep?” 

“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.

“You should sleep.”

“Nah.”

 You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”

“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.” 

“Is that so? A punishment?”

“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.

You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man. 

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 

You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.

“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.

 “Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”

“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”

Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.” 

Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.

Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him. 

Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.” 

“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”

Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.” 

“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.” 

You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”

You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing. 

You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.

Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.” 

Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.

Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.” 

You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him. 

Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.” 

 Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders. 

“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”

 “Just - just a second.”

 “Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.” 

Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone. 

You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone. 

Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them. 

You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.” 

You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself  in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now. 

“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.” 

You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.

“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.” 

“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.” 

Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…

“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -” 

“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.” 

That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest. 

While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying. 

Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.

You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it. 

Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles. 

“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest. 

“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.” 

Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.

Joel sniffles. “M’not.” 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”

You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips. 

“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?” 

“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.

“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”

You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕

[twinkletfout]

Feeling 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 during ovulation

Include: toji, gojo, nanami, choso, (smut)

GojoSatoru is the kind of man who keeps himself notified when you are ovulating, because he knows that's when you can feel him the most, you don't even have to tell him that you want to do it, he would just come to you. Wrapping his hands around your waist as he softly kisses the sensitive area around your ear as he murmurs “wanna do it?” He knows you will agree, just after your confirmation, he will carry you to the bedroom all while kissing you, whispering the nastiest things in your ear, He makes sure that your pussy is moulded in the shape of his dick, whimpering your name before he comes undone inside you. He would pull out of you watching his cum mixed with your juices dripping out, oh how much he loves watching that, he would use his fingers to push it back in, curving his fingers in a way while your body jerks and shivers, a devilish smirk on his face as he does so.

NanamiKento loves fucking you when you are ovulating. Because you are so bold in bed you make it perfectly clear what you want and kento nanami is so desperate for you in that state. When he comes back home from work, he would know from the look on your face or from the way you act that you need him. In a split second, he would push you onto the wall, kissing you with so much force that you can't think of anything else but him. Nanami is a man of few words but when it comes to making you feel good, he spouts all the things he wants to do to you. “Let me fuck you, baby, please..” he would whisper. God, Even listening to his voice can get you so, so wet. He would be so desperate for you that he would take you right there against the wall, teasing your throbbing clit in a way that your eyes rolled back as he poured ropes and ropes of cum inside you. From the look on his face you know there's so much for you to come on the bed.

TojiFushiguro loves it when you beg, beg for him to make you feel good. Of course he want to fuck you so hard till you see stars. But he loves the look on your face when you are so shameless in front of him when you are ovulating. Usually its him, all over you to let him fuck you but this time Toji would spread your legs as he teases your pretty pussy, softly pinching your clit as it throbs under his touch. “You need me so bad, don't you?” you would moan as a response. He so loves teasing you, he would force you to push his cock inside you yourself, teasing himself at your entrance. He would describe how you look under him, making you even more embarrassed as he would force you to look at him. When he finally bends to plant a kiss on your lips, he would thrust inside you without a second thought, so quick that your legs tremble at the intrusion. You wouldn't even remember anything after that, he would fuck you so hard and make sure that he is deep inside as he cums while all you can feel is immense pleasure spreading all over as your whole body trembles.

ChosoKamo definitely notices the changes when you are ovulating. He would be lying if he said that it didn't turn him on when you would sit on his lap, he loves it when you grind on him, he would understand what you want as he carries you in a swift motion and places you on the kitchen counter as he kneels to taste you. He would earn a few orgasam from you, his face completely messy with your nasty juices as he licks his lips. He places your leg over his shoulder as he would push into you moaning your name. "t's pussy is all mine" His eyebrows frown, as he comes to kiss you as you taste yourself on his lips, he would slowly slide inside you. He is so messy when it comes to sex, drooling, trembling, thrusting like an animal in heat. And still he knows exactly how to fuck you so good. He would grab on to your hips as his body jerks in a final motion before he comes. Sliding out his cock as he covers you with sweet kisses.

[baekuras]

just remembered the whole medieval market stuff is happening during the weekend where i work saturday AND sunday and I am both excited for it but also super upset bc...i won't even get to see or have the option to see half of it

+i have coworker who as usual feel too cool for anything and are like 'this is stupid' Anyhow idc its medieval dress up and music and just having fun SO CLOSE TO ME-it's the first one here so it might be a bit shit as things usually are the first time but I am still excited and just wanna hang out nearby and within the atmosphere

but nope got shifts just so placed that they will take the majority of time off it

can't even get dressed up or anything because work! and if i'd go home first i'd fall into bed because work=tired....+i know how my brain works Hates doing things that roundabout

[ifwdominicfike]

chicken tenders

“the best part of my day is when i get to see you naked.”

summary - chris has been stressing this entire week, meetings have piled up while also trying to maintain filming and keep up with his brand. all he wants right now is to see you.

switch!chris x switch!reader

you were on chris’ mind the second he woke up, he hadn’t seen you in about a week due to his busy schedule. he was growing frustrated, mentally and sexually, he would call you here and there to ask how your day was but he wasn’t really listening.

he was too lost in the sound of your tired voice from your long day as you told him what was going on, letting out small hums to let you know he was “listening”.

(flashback to yesterday..)

“and so thats when i tell her that- chris are you okay?” you had heard a soft whine from the other line “y-yeah m’fine, k-keep going ma. m’listening don’t worry..” his face turning red from almost getting caught, hand still wrapped around his cock waiting for you to continue your story “oh ok.. well anyways-“

“o-oh fuck!” he groaned, forgetting you could still hear him. “chris are you-?” you giggle “please ma, n-need you so bad baby.. haven’t been able to see you in so- fuck! so long” he lets out a shaky breath as his hand never stops its movement.

“yeah? need me that bad you’re willing to jerk off to my voice thinking i wouldn’t notice? you’re pathetic chris”

thats what got him, the degrading words pushing him over the edge. all that can be heard from his end is small cries and whimpers with your name thrown in between “fuck. y-you’re killing me baby, can’t wait to see you..”

(present day)

chris was excited for today, some of his meetings got pushed back a couple of days ahead which gave him some time to see you. not right now though, he still had to go to the warehouse to sign cards that were gonna be put in merch drops and still had a meeting or two to attend.

on the way there though he was fairly quiet, usually being his energetic self he would be blasting music throughout the whole car or picking on either matt or nick just because he was bored. “kid you there? hellooo!!” matt said waving his hand in front of chris’ face as they stopped at the red light. “what- matt get your fucking hand away from me dickhead” he pushes his hand away and scoffs “i was trying to ask you something, fucking idiot” matt said, clearly irritated.

“well what? im listening now.” chris grumbled “chris whats your problem? you’ve been acting like a moron this whole week” nick chimes in “probably cause he hasn’t seen his girl all week, s’that it chris?” matt says chuckling while the car starts moving once more.

“kid shut the fuck up already.” chris’ voice is now stern and serious “ooh that must be it” nick says laughing “can you both seriously stop talking, you’re fucking annoying.” he snaps at both of them.

“okay whatever kid just fix whatever the fuck you got going on there, m’not tryna have you moping around with us all day.” matt stated before pulling in to park.

chris was never known to be patient, always eager to have have what he wanted immediately. so when in the middle of a meeting he got a text from you he obviously opened it, not knowing that it was a photo of you in a white lingerie set with a following text saying “need you so bad baby :(“ he excused himself to the restroom and instantly called you.

you pick up immediately with a cheesy smile across your face “hey love!” your voice filled with innocence like you didn’t just get him hard in front of everyone. “y/n cut it out, im serious, right now isn’t a good time sweetheart” he said trying to keep his composure.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about baby, m’not doing anything..” you giggle “ma, please. just give me another hour and im all yours. please.” the desperation in his voice makes your thighs clench in need.

“well what if i want you now, you know i don’t like waiting” you let out a soft sigh, your hand begins to trail down to where you’re aching most. “y/n i swear if you’re doing what i think you are right now.” “don’t act like you don’t like it chris, bet you’re so hard right now, hm?”

“i’ll be there in a hour and if you keep up with this attitude you’re not coming at all tonight.” your thighs clench even more at his daring words. “ugh you’re no fun baby” you groan as he hangs up the phone.

he made his way back as matt and nick look at him annoyed, the meeting was already over and they were just sitting there waiting for chris. “do i have something on me? whats up?” he says checking his clothes and fixing his hair “you had us sitting here for forever, stupid fuck” nick says getting up “yeah whatever kid, are we leaving or not?” he makes his way out not waiting for the two behind him “kid walked out like he’s the one driving” matt said, making nick giggle.

the three were on the way home from a long day, matt was yawning every chance he got and nick was already asleep in the back, chris on the other hand though had a huge grin formed on his face.

“matt can you drop me off at y/n’s?” chris said looking over at his brother “yeah sure” he said with laugh following after “what are you laughing at?” chris said confused “nothing, just knew that was why you were acting like a baby today” “yeah whatever dickhead, just turn right here”

you hear a knock at the door, then suddenly your phone goes off, a text from chris. “im here ma” you smile and go to open the door, the second its slightly open chris barges in pinning you against the wall kissing you like he’ll never get to see you again.

he kicks the door closed and locks its before wrapping his arms around your waist, you can feel him through the rough material of his baggy jeans. fuck.

before you could even tell him something he has you over his shoulder in a tight grip before making his way to your room “someones eager” you say with a giggle.

“can’t believe you, sending me that picture in the middle of my meeting, such a fucking tease baby.” he pins you down to the bed, settled right between your legs before trailing his hands up your shirt (his shirt)..

finally shuffling you out of your clothes so you’re in nothing but that pretty lace from earlier, the tension between you two is making your stomach tighten and between your thighs wet.

him being fully clothed while you’re basically bare under him makes your head spin, wanting to see more of him you begin to play with the bottom of his shirt. “please chris, wanna see you..” you whine “yeah sweetheart? go ahead then, take it off” he smirks as you start to slip his shirt off, running your nails down his chest you feel him shiver. “watch it ma.” he warns as your hands go down further to his prominent bulge poking through his jeans.

“i need you so bad baby..”

“poor girl, so fucking desperate for m’cock.” the sound of his belt buckle clinking and his jeans ruffling off is the only thing consuming the silence between you two, he finally removes the only thing keeping you from seeing all of him and you can’t help but gawk at him. “got nothing to say now, huh? you know starin’ is rude mama.”

you roll your eyes and wrap your hand around him, stroking him at a teasingly slow pace. “just admiring you baby, y’so big..” you bite your lip and look at him through your lashes. “you’re so good fuck-“ he groans while fucking back into your hand, small whimpers leaving his lips encourage you to speed up.

“yeah? look at you.. fucking into my hand, y’that desperate?” your thumb smears the pre-cum around him, your lips make their way to his tip giving him small kisses.

“please-please mama” his hips begin to slowly move, trying to force more of himself in your mouth. quiet whines can be heard as you feel his heavy hands settle on the back of your head, you smirk and sit up before he can take things further.

“n-no baby please! i.. i wont touch you o-or anything-“ next thing he knows you’re on top of him and his back is against the headboard. “you need me that bad? look at you about to cry, all because you need to cum. fucking pathetic.” your voice harsh as you settle down on his lap, your hand caressing his rose tinted cheeks while he continues to squirm underneath you.

you lift your hips and begin to sink down onto him, a quiet hiss leaves your lips from the stretch — you grip onto his shoulders to stabilize yourself.

“shit-” chris’ grip on your hips tightens as he guides you further down onto him, your whines now being muffled as you dig your face into his neck.

“chris.. f-fuck”

“what’s wrong now pretty girl, what happened to that attitude you had a couple of minutes ago huh..?” his condescending tone making you squirm as you rock your hips trying to get some relief. your lips travel down his neck leaving open mouth kisses and bites the further down you go, drunk on the way his hands grip your waist and the way he feels inside you.

“j-just fuck me chris! ple-please” those words alone gives him all he needs to start thrusting up inside you, his tight hold on you lifting you up slightly. “c’mon pretty girl, cant let me do all the work yeah..” he teases you as his other hand comes up to grip onto your jaw, making you look directly at him.

you start to bounce up and down, your moans growing louder by the second each time you slam down onto him. chris wasn’t so quiet either — loud grunts and groans can be heard from him as mumbles of your name and praises leaves his mouth.

“good fucking girl ma, doin’ such a good job f’me sweetheart- fuck!”

your pace starts to slow down, the burning in your thighs starts to get too much for you. you make your way up to his neck once more, leaving your mark in various places that he will for sure see in the morning. the thought of the red and purple splotches traced around his neck and collarbones makes you clench around him.

your movements are barely doing anything by now, leaving chris to do all the work as you get closer and closer to coming. “always makin’ me do all the fucking work huh? greedy brat. always getting whatever she wants isn’t that right?” he taunts as he flips you two around, your legs on his shoulders as he starts fucking into you faster and harder.

“o-oh shit! fuc-fuck me chris please, m’so close baby please!” your babbles becoming incoherent as he hits that spot deep inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. “go ahead mama, come for me. take this dick ma, s’all yours.”

legs shaking as he continues to fuck into you, your hands grip his curls and bring him down to a sloppy kiss. needing to feel him in any kind of way what so ever, you pull back to let out a loud moan as you clamp down on him and release all over his cock. “theree ya’ go mama, goodd girl. my beautiful girl look at youu” he praises.

his groans getting louder tells you he’s close, trying his best not to come before you. he always made sure you came before him, in his words “gotta make my girl feel good.”

“where you want it ma?” “i-inside baby please!” he groans one last time as he feels you clench around him and that was his breaking point, he cums inside you with a proud smile slapped across his face.

his thrusts slow down as you both come down from the high, he starts to pull out before he hears you wince. “you good ma? did i hurt you-“ “no no baby m’fine just- a little sensitive” you give him a tired smile as you lay your head back feeling like you could fall asleep any second now “i fucked you that good then huh?” his smirk making you roll your eyes and throw the nearest pillow at him.

“chris if were not in that shower in the next 2 seconds you’re sleeping on the couch i swear to-” you say joking (half joking) “ok ok damn no need to get all bossy w’me ma, c’mon lets get you up” he’s now off the bed as he picks you up holding you like a baby. “you’re washing my hair i hope you know that” you tell him with a smile.

“yes i know that, when have i not?” he says confused as he smiles at you half asleep in his arms “my sweet girl, i love you so much” are his last words before walking into the bathroom.

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

i finallyyy finished this fic omg. i hope you guys like it!! i love bringing dominic fike into any conversation i can. i feel like i could’ve wrote more but i had no real fics for chris.. anyways byee i love youu ᥫ᭡ !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @submattenthusiast @chrissv4mp @ellaapsworld @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @55sturn

[thewispsings]

Oscar piastri x reader smau, but she’s completely anonymous and people are trying to find her after Oscar revealed he was married to someone?

nobody ever asked me | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: oscar piastri shocks the world by letting it be known that he is married, and has been for the past two years

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, logansargent, and 1,017,827 others!

oscarpiastri: vacation with the wifey! 🧡

view comments below!

user1: oh that’s not

user2: excuse me the what?

user3: this is interesting!

landonorris: wait what

oscarpiastri; what?

landonorris: wait what are you being serious?

oscarpiastri: about what?

landonorris: oh i don’t know maybe you having a WIFE???

oscarpiastri; yes i do have a wife!

landonorris: WHAT THE FUCK

user4: oh so oscar not joking?...

user5: feeling like lando rn because what the fuck???

user6; this just ruined my day

maxverstappen1: i knew you were lying about SOMETHING

oscarpiastri: ive never lied to anyone, nobody ever asked me if i had a wife

maxverstappen1; that’s….fair

user7: THATS NOT FAIR??? OSCAR WTF?? YOU CANT JUST SPRING THIS ON PEOPLE???

charles_leclerc: nice pictures oscar!!!!

charles_lelcerc: wait a minute...

charles_leclerc: wife????

charles_leclerc: what?? what? what??

charles_leclerc: i am so bamboozled right now!

charles_leclerc: am i walking the prank? i feel like i am walking the prank

oscarpiastri: no you aren't walking the prank? whatever that means? ive been married for a little over two years now!

user8: TWO YEASR??? LIKE 730 DAYS??????

user9: no you guys actually dont understand, this is driving me crazy?

user10: this is SUCH an oscar thing to do tho.. like randomly announcing thats hes been married for 2 years??

user11: he took oscar core to a whole new level

user12: my heart just broke

user13: you should've announced that you had a gf first, my heart cant take this

danielricciardo: i'm a little late, don't know whats going on..so? congratulations? my condolences?

oscarpiastri: thank you daniel!!

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 691,616 others!

oscarpiastri: some more pictures of the wife since you all seem so curious! here’s my wife, yn, and her book store 🧡

view comments below!

user14: YN!!!! WE GOT HER NAME

user15: HALLELUJAH

user15: yn is a beautiful name

user16: HER bookstore?? she owns a bookstore??

user17: the way she probably has so much lore and we will never learn about it is so??

user18: we're only going to learn about when oscar randomly decides to drop some info: key example: THIS POST 😭

maxverstappen1: I KNEW HER NAME FIRST!!!

oscarpiastri: only because she's your biggest fan and she begged to meet you

maxverstappen1: stay mad

oscarpiastri: she's married to me??

maxverstappen1: and yet she's MY biggest fan

user19: DAMN MAX

user20: oscar was SILENCED

user21: i need to know when he them, how they got together, and what theyre wedding was like

user22: it kills me to know we will never get this information

user22: its actually so crazy how oscar said yn has been to all of the races so far?? like how didnt we notice her 😭

user23: what if shes been in front of us the whole time and we just mistook her for like a mclaren team member or something

user24: well now I have to go look at every single oscar picture out there and try to find something

user25: or you could, idk? respect that she doesnt want to show her face online?

user26: but thats no fun

charles_leclerc: it was great meeting her!! ❤️

user27: they met her? 💔💔💔

oscarpiastri: she says thanks for the lec ice cream!

user27: he gave her lec icecream?? 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

user28: ive only known about yns existence for a month and a half, but if anything happened to her, i would kill everyone on earth and then myself.

liked by oscarpiastri

. . .

note: thanks for requesting!! hope you enjoyed(*≧▽≦)

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: I Choose You

Request: Anonymous said: "jealous tyler or jealous reader would be interesting to read 👀"

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none!

A/N: not sure how i feel about this one but I gave it a go and wanted to make sure I posted!

Tyler tells himself that he’s over thinking… maybe even reading too much into things. 

But God, he swears he isn’t imagining the way that you and the reporter he’d agreed to let tag along for the next week naturally interact with one another with such ease. 

Tyler is not a jealous person– he’s confident and secure and he trusts you. Jealousy is petty and it’s stupid. And Tyler’s been trying his whole life to prove to himself and everyone around him that he’s not stupid.

Tyler has a loose shock to repair before the storm they’ve been tracking rolls in later that day. He’s currently laying on the dirt at the rest stop they’ve pulled in, with a wrench in his hand. Dani’s shining their flashlight for him, and it’s important he stays focused. And he tries… really, he does. 

But Tyler looks up just as the reporter laughs at a joke you’ve made. And then, he reaches out to touch your arm for the added effect. Tyler nearly drops the wrench he’s holding on his face at the sight. 

“Easy, T,” Dani says, studying him closely. 

He takes a deep breath before looking back towards the truck. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Dani asks, kicking his shoulder gently with their boot. 

“Nothing,” Tyler grumbles in a tone that screams there is absolutely something wrong. Thankfully Dani doesn’t push. 

…

Throughout the rest of the week, Tyler tries to talk himself down whenever jealousy rears its ugly head. He keeps telling himself that he’s being irrational– you’re not flirting with the reporter everytime you walk with him into the gas stations they stop at, or offer to ride with him in the van instead of Tyler’s truck, where you normally sit. You’re just trying to be friendly… make him feel at ease. 

But did he really have to look at you that way while you studied the GPS monitoring system? Or share his fucking cookies with you when everyone ate lunch in the field? And did you have to laugh so loudly at every single joke he made?

Tyler finds out on the second night he’s tagging along that Henry’s a fucking Columbia grad on top of a stupid self-proclaimed comedian. The two of you are sitting around the fire talking about graduate degrees when Henry turns towards him. 

“Did you two meet at school then?” Henry asks.  

Tyler smiles, but instead of warmth it’s laced with sarcasm. “Nope, I don’t have one of those fancy degrees, Henry. In fact, none of us but her do.” 

Henry turns back towards you and proceeds to ask more questions about your time studying meteorology at the U of A. Meanwhile, Tyler is left to simmer in his own self pity, wondering if it bothered you that he isn’t educated like Henry. 

Tyler has to spend the rest of the week fighting the urge to make it known you’re his– he’s had thoughts of keeping a permanent hand planted on your waist right in front of Henry. Maybe if he pulled you in for a kiss a little more often, and really claimed you as his, this guy would back the hell off. 

But Tyler quickly shakes away the thought. 

Because claiming you like an object is stupid, and Tyler is not stupid. 

…

Tyler grabs you a coffee from the nearest gas station and brings it back to the motel because he’s really trying to move past all this shit. You’re sitting with Lilly and fiddling with the drone when he tries to hand it to you. 

You offer him an appreciative smile that warms his entire chest. Tyler’s definitely been overreacting, because you’re looking at him with such love and admiration in your eyes. 

“Thanks, but I’ve already had some today,” you say, crushing every hope inside of him in an instant. “Why don’t you give it to Dani?  They take their coffee the same as I do.”

“When did you have time to get coffee?” he asks, trying to play it cool. 

You reply so simply, like the words don’t slice right through his heart. “I didn’t, Henry brought me one.”

Tyler’s jaw tightens. It’s a gesture you don’t notice, because you’re too busy focusing on the drone half in your lap. 

What you do seem to notice, is the way he scoffs. It makes yours and Lilly’s heads both turn. 

But before you can reply, Tyler’s already walking away. He clutches the coffee firmly in his hand and without a word, drops the full cup in the trash can outside the motel. 

…

Tyler has to remind himself that he’s not angry.

At least not at you.  

You and him have a great relationship. He trusts you and that’s all there is to it. Whether it’s Henry or whoever else–  you never gave Tyler a reason to be worried. 

But Tyler doesn’t like the way seeing you with the reporter makes him feel. Because at any moment, you could leave him for someone with a more respectable career– someone with fair skin and button up polos who just looked like they had their shit together. Someone with a college degree… someone a hell of a lot smarter than him. 

Seeing you with him made Tyler feel vulnerable, like he had something to lose– because he had everything to lose. 

…

The crew spends another week chasing in Oklahoma. The season’s winding down, but they still managed to catch two EF0s and an EF1. 

Tyler’s been avoiding you for most of the week. He’d offer the truck space to Boone and Lilly, he’d sit next to Dexter around the fire at night… hell, he would hardly even look at you. 

You turned down his coffee earlier in the week. Only after the fact did you realize that you should have just taken the damn thing. You understand that rejecting him after he went out of his way to do something nice for you hurt his feelings… But you can’t understand how that turned into an entire week of the silent treatment. 

On numerous instances, you try to approach him. But he always has somewhere to run off to. 

“I gotta help Dani with the van’s oil change.”

“I gotta see if Boone got the footage we need.”

“I gotta give Dexter a hand with the radar.”

You’re getting sick of it. 

You try to distract yourself for the rest of the week– you ask Lilly to explain more about how to work her drone, you keep on top of the radar– looking for forming storm cells, and you try to make the reporter Tyler had invited along for the week feel welcome. 

Henry’s nice– he’s completely new to storm chasing and has loads of questions all the time. You find it slightly annoying that he’s so interested in Tyler… but you get it. And even though you’re a little irritated with Tyler for your week-long silent-treatment sentence, you still want him to sound as good as possible in the article, so you talk him up every chance you can. 

You know that this lack of communication can’t last. And the second Henry goes back to Boston to write his piece, you plan to corner Tyler and force him into telling you what the hell you’d done wrong. But until then, you don’t want to cause a scene. So, you sit back, spend more time talking with Henry about Tyler, and try like hell not to lose your mind.

…

It’s more for his own sanity than anything. It’s like seeing you with Henry has caused this sudden realization to pop into his head… You can do better– and honestly you deserve better than him. The thought is all consuming. It makes focusing on anything else incredibly difficult. 

“You gonna tell us what the hell is up?” Lilly asks one day. 

Tyler’s currently standing in the bed of his truck, tinkering things that didn’t really need to be fixed just to stay busy. 

“What do you mean?” he replies without looking up.

“I mean are you going to tell us why you two love birds haven’t spoken in like three days?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler notices Boone glancing his way with an expression on his face that says he was wondering the same thing. 

“We’ve spoken,” Tyler says dismissively. 

“Telling her you don’t have room for her in the truck doesn’t count,” Lilly retorts. “C’mon, seriously, Ty. What’s wrong?”

Tyler sets his tool down and looks down at Lilly. “Nothing is wrong.”

Lilly rolled her eyes. “Okay, well are you sure she knows that? Cause Dani and I saw her crying in the bathroom.” 

Tyler lets out a long exhale– the thought of you upset instantly filling his insides with sorrow. But the thought that he was the one to make you upset is even worse. 

“I know it’s not my business,” Lilly adds. “But I’ve been watching you give her the silent treatment all week, and that’s not going to fix anything. I know Henry’s still here and it’s been a crazy week–”

Tyler can’t help the scoff that escapes his lips at the mention of Henry’s name.

Lilly pauses before a look of understanding washes over her. “You’re pissed that she’s been hanging with Henry.” She says it as a statement instead of a question. 

“I’m not–”

“I’ve known you for six years, don’t even try to deny it. You are– you’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

With his lips pursed in a thin line, Tyler raises an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I am. Does that make you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”

Now it was Lilly’s turn to scoff. “Of course it doesn’t make me happy. You’re being an idiot.”

“What?” 

“I said that you’re being an idiot,” Lilly says, annunciating each word insultingly. 

“Yeah,” Tyler nods. “I’m well aware that I’m an idiot, but thanks for reminding me.”

“I said you’re being an idiot, Tyler. Not that you are one. Now stop sulking and fucking listen for once in your goddamn life.”

It’s so out of the ordinary for Lilly to snap that Tyler actually does shut his mouth. 

“You invite a reporter on the road with us and then you don’t give him the time of day to answer any of the questions he has. You’re short and curt and to be honest, kind of fucking rude anytime he asks you anything. Y/N is being polite– and she’s hosting the guest you invited along. So don’t fucking blame her just because you’re insecure.” 

Tyler can feel the anger rising in his own chest, he wants to get defensive– to snap back at Lilly. But deep down, he knows she’s right, so he stifles any comebacks and instead hangs his head. 

Lilly sighs. “You’re not an idiot, Tyler. So stop acting like one.”

…

After letting Lilly’s words really sink in, Tyler decides that she’s right. For the first time all week, he’s motivated to actually talk with you and make things right. 

Or at least he is right until he sees Henry approaching you in the parking lot. He’s too far away to hear what Henry has to say. But he’s not so far away that he doesn't see the folded up piece of paper that he passes you. 

In an instant, everything Lilly had said– along with all the things he’s said to convince himself he’s been overreacting flies away with the wind. Because Henry just gave you his fucking phone number. 

Tyler turns– needing to get as much space from whatever exchange he just witnessed as he possibly can. In a few, long, angry strides, Tyler reaches his truck and climbs inside. In the distance, he hears Lilly call after him. But he pretends he doesn’t hear. Instead, he slams the door shut, starts the ignition and drives away. 

…

“Where’s he goin’?” Boone says just as you approach him and the rest of the crew. 

“Dunno. He didn’t say anything to you?” Dani asks, turning towards Lilly. 

She shakes her head, eyes squinting against the bright sun. 

“What the hell is his problem?” you say frustratedly, biting back tears. 

Stupidly, you’d let yourself get your hopes up earlier in the day when Tyler had offered you a small smile over breakfast. You had thought that maybe things were alright, and that he was finally over whatever had been bothering him so badly. 

But now you’re standing in the cloud of dust he just left behind after taking off in his truck without a word to anyone and you know that isn’t the case. 

“Here I was thinking I helped last night,” Lilly says under her breath. 

You snap your head in her direction. “You talked to him?”

She shrugs. “I tried to.” 

“Did he say why he’s been so upset?”

Lilly hesitates. And truthfully, you understand why. Everyone here was Tyler’s friend first. You were the last to join the crew– inducted into the group just by being Tyler’s girlfriend. They have no obligation to be loyal to you over Tyler. 

“Forget it,” you say defeatedly, turning away as soon as you feel the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes. “It doesn’t even matter.” With that, you make your way towards the RV, painfully aware of everyone’s eyes trained on you the entire way. 

…

Tyler drives to the nearest gas station, desperate for space to clear his head. 

He knows he’s being dramatic and irrational at this point, but if he stayed at that rest stop another second, he didn’t know what would come out of his mouth. He really really had to get it together. But he can’t escape the fear inside of him– the one saying that meeting Henry helped you recognize that you could do so much better than him.

And now you had his phone number, to reach out whenever that realization hit. 

Why wouldn’t you be interested in Henry? He’s got a goddamn master’s degree from Columbia, he writes articles for the Globe, works out every morning before they go chasing–  apparently makes hilarious jokes… 

Tyler rests his forehead against the steering wheel and groans.

…

Tyler’s gone for an hour. But when he finally parks the truck back at the rest stop, he hasn’t shaken the sinking feeling inside of him. 

In a preemptive attempt to avoid questions he had snagged a bunch of snacks from the nearest gas station. If you ask where he’s been, he can just say he had a hankering for potato chips and call it good. 

Except, you don’t even look at him when he gets out of the truck. Boone’s got corn hole set up in the dirt. It looks like Boone and Henry versus Dani and Dexter while you watch. He only watches for a moment before bringing the bag of snacks into the RV. 

Secretly, Tyler’s been simultaneously excited for and dreading the end of the week. He’s excited for Henry to leave and excited to sleep in his own bed. But he’s dreading being back in your shared house. It’ll be the first time the two of you are forced to be alone, and he knows he’ll have to find the words to describe what he’s been feeling. 

But apparently Tyler’s stupid, because he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. 

All he knows is that he doesn’t want to lose you. And seeing you with Henry makes him feel like he’s about to lose you. Tyler doesn’t know how to say that to you without coming across as a total lunatic.  

…

You don’t want to cause a scene at the rest stop. But the minute you see Tyler head for the RV, you’re out of your seat and beelining it towards him while the rest of the team is distracted.

As soon as you hoist open the door, you find him hunched over the fridge, grabbing a water bottle. 

“What the hell?” is all you can manage to blurt out. You’re fuming and on the verge of tears. But you can’t help it– Tyler’s silent treatment has just about pushed you to the edge. 

Tyler whips around at the sound of your entrance… and maybe it was a little dramatic– but you need to get your point across. 

There’s a long pause while Tyler’s eyes study you. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”

You’re met by more silence.  

“This is ridiculous, Tyler. Will you just talk to me?”

Finally, Tyler scoffs, “The reporter gave you his number, right?  Why don’t you talk to him?  I’m sure he’d love to talk.”

In an instant, a wave of understanding washes over you. But it isn’t overshadowed by the anger you feel. 

“Are you serious right now? You’re jealous of Henry?”

He shuts the fridge before cracking open his water bottle dismissively, ignoring your questions. 

“Tyler, are you forgetting that you’re the one who invited him with us this week? I mean, did you think he was just supposed to sit back and observe? He’s a reporter, of course he’s going to have questions… Questions that you were way more qualified to answer, but you were too busy being a jerk all week to answer any of them. So I did it for you–”

“I never asked for you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to– I did it for you!” you cry. “I did it so that he’d write you a good story– because you deserve that.” 

“Oh, how convenient. So you two just get along so well for my sake then?” he says. 

You exhale sharply. “Are you kidding me right now? We’ve spent the last week talking about you! I’ve been talking you up– telling him stories about what you do– how good you are at what you do– all the people you’ve helped–”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “Yeah right,” he scoffs. 

You pause, anger slowly melting away at the realization that he genuinely didn’t believe anything you were saying. 

“Tyler,” you say seriously. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Henry. I’ve been answering his questions and telling him how fucking brave and generous and smart you are–”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snaps, voice cracking just slightly. “Just forget it, it doesn’t matter.” He sets his water bottle on the counter before moving to step by you. 

“Tyler stop–” you say, reaching for him. But he’s too quick. He reaches the door before you’re able to stop him. 

“Will you please stop walking away from me!” you blurt out frustratedly, tears forming in your eyes. “You’ve been running from me all week– I just… I just want to talk about this. Please–”

Tyler doesn’t turn to face you, but to your relief, he stops before opening the door. 

“There is nothing happening between me and Henry, Tyler. I mean, I promise you, absolutely nothing– I… I don’t know how else to convince you. But there’s nothing going on. I’m not into Henry–”

“I know,” he says quickly, eyes squeezing shut. 

You let your mouth fall open, confusion washing over you. “What?” 

“I know there’s nothing happening between you and Henry– I trust you and I believe you.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “So why are you so mad at me?”

Tyler pauses and bites his lip before saying, “I’m not mad at you–” he tries to explain. “I just… I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I don’t understand why–”

You sigh. “Tyler, you’re not making any sense–”

Tyler’s face twists in anguish. “Why aren’t you into him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s everything I’m not. And I mean– Seeing you with him– it just made me realize that you can do so much better than me,”  Tyler says desperately, the pain almost palpable in his voice. “He’s got the fancy degree– he’s obviously smart–”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence, because the idea of anyone ever being better than Tyler was even more ludicrous than him being jealous in the first place. “Tyler, you’re smart–”

“I didn’t go to Columbia. I didn’t even finish my first year of undergrad.”

“I don’t care about any of that– you know I don’t–”

“Why?” he blurts out harshly, finally turning to look at you. “Why do you even want me when you can have someone like him?”

Tyler didn’t think he was good enough for you– and that admission broke your fucking heart. In an instant, all the reasons you loved Tyler flow through your head. There’s so many, you can’t even keep up. 

So instead, you reach into your pocket and pull out the note Henry had given you just hours earlier– the one Tyler apparently saw him give you. He watches as you unfold the piece of paper, quickly revealing that it’s not a phone number. 

“It’s his mom’s cookie recipe,” you explain. “The ones you refused to try. I talked to him about how you have a sweet tooth, and I said how much you love chocolate chip cookies, so he wrote it down for me. I thought I might be able to make them for you when we got home. Because I love you– and I love doing things that will make you happy. Because that’s what you do for me– you make me happy. All the time, just by existing.”

You watch as the realization washes over him.  

You sigh. “Did you ever stop and think about how I feel the same about you?”

He pauses before looking at you questioningly. 

“I mean, you’re you,” you say, gesturing towards him. “People adore you, Tyler. And rightfully so– but I’m always worried you’ll find someone better. But I don’t get hung up on it, because I trust you. I trust that you mean it when you tell me you love me and you choose me. And I need you to do the same for me, Tyler. I need you to trust me. Because I love you– and I always will.”

Tyler exhales, his eyes watery. 

“Can you do that?” you plead. 

To your relief, after a moment, he nods. 

You don’t hesitate before closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his middle. You lay your head on his chest just as his arms wind around your shoulders in an attempt to make up for all the hugs you’ve missed out on this week. Because as much as you love chasing in Oklahoma or Texas, your absolute favorite place to be is at home in his arms. 

“Cookie recipe, huh?” he muses above you, chin resting on top of your heads. 

You nod. “I’m a horrible baker, but I was going to give it a shot.”

Tyler tightens his grip around you. “Well horrible baker or not, I love you and I choose you.”

You let your eyes fall shut and inhale the familiar, comforting scent of him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” you say honestly. 

[monstersholygrail]

A Surprise Visit (1k Celebration Fic)

Tentacle Monster x fem!reader — multiple orgasms, breeding, primal play, aphrodisiac injection, rut, dub con, bondage, double penetration, aftercare

a/n: Also just wanna thank you guys for 3k as well! Sorry it took me so long to get to this

The clock ticks by, the noise echoing throughout the empty room. You tap your pen against your desk in time with it as your thoughts drift past your home and go to your Tentacle Monster bf. The house far too quiet without him around.

You should’ve been used to this by now, you really should’ve! Your Tentacle Monster bf always traveled back home around this time of the month. Always very insistent to keep up visits with his family.

And you totally understood. You’ve met his parents and family members a handful of times. Never on their homeland but here in your home with your bf. Tentacle Monster bf was always very firm about the dangers of the swamp in which his family lives in its depths.

So you let it go, believing he of course knows best. Every month you wave your bf off as he leaves home and disappears for about a week or so. Always coming back right when he says he will. But something was… strange this time around.

It seemed to hit your bf about a week earlier than usual. His moods and behaviors changing as they always did around the time he left to go see his family. Growls so low you almost couldn’t hear them leaving him whenever he sees someone else looking at you. Making sure to rub himself against you until you were fully drenched in his scent. Always keeping at least three tentacles on you at all times, his clingy behavior somehow worsening these last few days.

In fact, he couldn’t keep himself off of you. Always squirming into your clothes as soon as you walk in the door, slipping them off with ease. Before you knew it he was fucking you on every available surface until you two got into the bedroom where he brought you to orgasm after orgasm until you passed out wrapped up in his slick tentacles.

After about five whole days of this, your Tentacles Monster bf brought up the idea of him leaving for his trip early, sitting you down in the breakfast nook, his tentacles wrapped around your hands. Though he respectfully discussed it with you, you still felt a bit ambushed— like it came out of nowhere. You tried to be as understanding as always but seriously, what the hell was going on with him? You were seriously worried, he’s never gotten so wound up to this extent.

His abrupt departure only made you worry more, not wanting to assume the worst but it’s as though your thoughts have a mind of their own as they travel down those dark pathways anyway. All with absolutely no way of getting answers due to your bf being miles away while you’re stuck here sitting at home.

Well fuck that.

No longer fine to just wait around, you want to take action. You want to be with your bf and help him through whatever’s going on with him. As well as get some much needed answers. Your determination fuels you, causing you to charge in head first.

Right into the Eternal Swamp, a home for a large portion of the Tentacle Monster population. Mostly due to its natural resources…and the fact that it makes any human who dare enter to go insane. All to feed the land’s inhabitants.

You look out the window of your car as you arrive, the edge of the swamp barely even visible over the fog. Bringing with it a cold sense of anticipation that you chalk up to nerves. What the hell are you thinking going in there? This is crazy, you’ve definitely gone crazy. But your heart beats wildly in your chest, urging you to go to your bf.

Not letting another moment of hesitation take you, you swiftly exit your vehicle. Walking with steady and firm steps into the swamp. That strength and courage slowly leaves you the deeper you go into the swamp. The fog growing so heavy you can no longer see the sun or even what’s standing right in front of you.

You make your way through the swamp as best you can, peering down at the ground to make sure you don’t deep dive into its waters. You can’t help but start second guessing your choice again. The anticipation building the longer you’re in here. Why? You’re not sure but it sends a chill running down your spine.

Tentacle Monster watches you through the fog, his vision blurry with the haze of lust clouding his mind. His rut sending him spiraling into insanity, surely. It was worse this month, that was a given. For one it hit him sooner than usual and now here he was, conjuring your figure before him just so he can find a little bit of relief.

But your scent was so potent, your form so vivid, and your voice as you call out his name so clear. It takes a moment for it to click in Tentacle Monster bf’s mind that you’re actually here. And when it does, his brain goes haywire. Nostrils flaring, body crouching into position. A predator posed to strike and take down its prey.

You remain as clueless as ever. Hopelessly trying to look through the fog and find your way to your bf. Praying he finds you before you’re eaten alive. A snap of a branch echos throughout the swamp and you gasp, head jerking toward the sound. Your body’s frozen as if staying still might hide you from any lingering beasts. At a subtle swish within the fog your mind fires off alarms, body forcing you into flight or fight. And boy do you fly.

Bolting forward you suddenly couldn’t care less what you might run into. And it’s a good thing as a second later a ferocious growl rings across the swamp, making your stomach drop. Your bf chases after you, all that’s processing is that his mate is running from him. Tempting him with your sweet pussy in order to drive him mad.

Pumping your legs as fast as they can go you stumble through the swamp. Cursing under your breath in a panic as you smack into branch after branch. It’s slowing you down and whatever’s after you must know this place a lot better. Just as the thought occurs, a tentacle snaps out, curling tightly around your waist. It’s caught you.

A scream rises from your throat as you thrash around, desperate to escape. Tentacle Monster bf growls in appreciation as your body grinds against his long tentacles. First with your little game and now this, your bf is more than ready to take you and ask questions later. He needs inside of you. More of his tentacles eagerly wrap around your enchanting body, sharply pinning you down onto the swamp floor and spreading you open.

For a moment a spark of familiarity shoots through you but you’re a little too busy freaking the fuck out to pay it any mind. Your thoughts are quickly diverted anyway as you feel tentacles sliding your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to open air. Tears spring to your eyes, this can’t be happening.

Tentacle Monster bf plunges inside you with one swift thrust, his tentacle’s slime acting as a natural lubricant as well as an aphrodisiac. Getting you all nice and ready for the fucking of a lifetime… Now that he’s inside you, your bf’s mind clears a little. Allowing his curiosity and fear for your safety to mix amongst the lust. His big body leans over you, noting your shaking form with unease. “What are you doing here, my mate?”

You gasp, your body instantly relaxing as your eyes shoot open to be met with the lovely vision of your bf. It was him. It was him the whole time and it’s him now inside of you. Tears of relief quickly replace tears of fear and your bf is quick to comfort you, his tentacles caressing you in a way that’s now soothing instead of suffocating.

“W-was worried about y-you. Acting weird. Needed to understand,” you stammer out, your body slowly ceasing in its shaking. Tentacle Monster bf sighs, knowing he can no longer hide this from you.

“Every month my kind go through an intense need to breed their mates. We cannot stop pumping our seed inside their fertile wombs until it takes or the week ends. During that time I come here to relieve myself.”

Even now your bf is slowly rocking his tentacle inside your pussy but you don’t think he notices he’s doing it. Meanwhile you can’t help but moan, the aphrodisiac causing your body to tingle and your mind to grow hazy.

“I-I can help you,” you offer and you can see your bf’s eyes flashing with barely controlled restraint.

“But I would not want to break your fragile human body, my heart,” he grits out. His tentacle picking up pace anyway and you arch into it, body squirming against his tentacles again.

“Can handle it. Promise,” you whisper as the aphrodisiac swells across your body, making your pussy slick with need and your veins run hot with lust.

That’s all the restraint your Tentacle Monster bf has. The moment the words leave your lips he’s withdrawing his tentacle only to thrust two more in your pussy. You cry out as he takes you like a feral beast, fucking his tentacles into your perfectly restrained body.

Your bf growls, the heat of his rut roaring to life and pumping through him with urgency. His tentacles move you at a brutal pace. Forcing you to meet his every thrust without being able to escape anything he’s giving you. Using you like his perfect little fuck toy as he takes his pleasure from your body and returns it to you tenfold. And you love it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as your body jerks in time to his rhythm.

With his tentacles plowing inside you, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build. And god is it good, the way he’s fucking you taking you to heights you’ve never known. Your cries of pleasure charge the air around you and your bf lets out a rumble as he ruts into you even harden until you’re thrown off the edge.

But he doesn’t stop there. Tentacle Monster bf keeps fucking into you, never letting the pressure ebb away as your essence coats his tentacles. Needing more. “Come again for me, love. Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more,” your bf snarls like a monster possessed.

His words repeat in an endless cycle as he snaps his tentacles inside your cunt over and over again. Working you through so many orgasms you lose count. You release all your senses to him and happily. Getting completely lost in the feeling of him as his tentacles fill your every hole till you’re squeezing down on him in every possible way.

The sky is dark by the time your bf gives you his final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and spraying your fertile womb with his seed. Chilling noises rip from your boyfriend’s throat that you’ve never heard before yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it as your body twitches with overstimulation.

Tentacle monster bf slumps on top of you, his tentacles covering every inch of your body in a way that has you smoothly falling down from relentless pleasure. Both of you finding peace in a place you once thought could drive you mad. Maybe it has. But as your bf whispers words of affection and praise in your ear saying how well you handled his rut and how he can’t wait for his eggs to grow inside of you… you don’t really care if you have gone mad.

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist

Your hand is shaking again.

It’s a defense mechanism or something, you think. Some physical manifestation of your anxiety. Something psychological, you’re sure of it.

It’s the only thing you’re sure of, if you’re being honest.

You stalk home as fast as you can, scowl affixed to your face like it’s been cemented there, seeping deep into your frown lines, etching them like a chisel on marble.

The walk sobers you. Brings you back to rational sense, little by little.

You shouldn’t have called them. You’re so dumb. You’re asking for trouble.

But is it so bad, to want to cause an emotional reaction? To want them to be as miserable as you?

It’s pathetic. A way to seek validation. A mistake.

One you’re sure you’re going to pay for.

Your front door is unlocked.

The door pushes open nearly on its own, and your eyes struggle to adjust in the pitch black of your hallway. No light from the street spills from the living room, which means the drapes have been drawn closed.

Your heart leaps into your ears, pounding between your temples at a frenzied pace.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s probably them.

What if it’s not? Do you have a weapon? A way to defend yourself? You find your pepper spray in your bag, readying it between trembling fingers.

“Hello?” You call.

Nothing.

“Hello… if you’re in my flat, you better-“ a firm hand grips back of your neck, like a viper assaulting its prey, and you scream.

“It’s me.” Simon murmurs into your hair, touching over your pulse. “Jus’ me.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” you twist out of his grip, fumbling for the lights.

When they flick on, you blink a few times to adjust.

He’s a sight for sore eyes in joggers, a black sweatshirt, black hat.

His eyes burn. They scald you, roving from top to toe, his mouth sealed in a scowl. “Have a nice night, sweetheart?”

You gulp. “I- I did.”

“Thought you were clever with that phone call?”

“I… I didn’t think-“

“You didn’t.” He cuts you off, and then points to living room. “Go sit on the couch.” Your hand trembles against your chest, and you hang your head.

Got the attention you wanted?

“Where’s Johnny?” You whisper as he takes the seat next to you, massive shoulders turning so he can peer downwards.

“Decided this was better to handle on my own.” Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.

“Oh.” Simon takes a deep breath, eyeing your shaking hand, and then shakes his head. You can’t read it, can’t ever read him, and you wait with breath frozen in your lungs, wait for him to say something, anything.

But what comes next, is not what you expected.

“Johnny’s in love with you.” You jerk back, eyebrows raised into your hairline.

“No.” Your voice trembles. “No, this… this is casual.”

“It is.” Simon’s lips press flat. “The girl at the hotel, she was a job. Had nothin’ to do with our… personal lives. She was a loose end to tie up when we got back. It was convenient, that she lived in our city.” Your mind tumbles and falls, your sense dives off a cliff.

Johnny’s in love with you.

“I don’t understand… you, after-“

“I let you believe it.” He says simply, looking down his nose at you. He’s never looked so cold. “At first, I wanted to explain, to correct it, for his sake, but… the opportunity was too good. So I told Johnny that you reminded me of our arrangement. That you agreed, that you always said you didn’t want a relationship. The situation at the bar with your date,” he smiles self indulgently “that was just for fun. Would’ve fucked ya right up against that door for the whole bar to see if you let us. Split that pretty pussy open on my cock and watch you gag on Johnny’s, but you still wanted to be a brat,” he rolls his eyes, “it was all a distraction I built for him.”

Alarm bells blare inside your skull, Johnny’s words from the other day when he brought the flowers repeating over and over.

“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“

“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.”

“No- no. He… he came here, he made it sound-“

Simon studies you. “He’s explosive, sometimes. Doesn’t handle his emotions well, gets all twisted up. I think when he came over here, he wanted you to tell him you wanted more,” he sighs, rubs his chin. “He’s so out of sorts over it all, poor boy.”

“Why? Why didn’t you… why didn’t you tell him the truth? Or me?” His lips curl into a sneer.

“Because Johnny is mine. I might share his body with you, sweet girl, but I won’t share his heart.”

[curtins]

GREEDY — gojo satoru minors dni

prologue. → pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. màstúrbation (m.) and rough sèx, creaḿpie. some angst/doubt. angsty love confession before gojo póunds reader into the mattress. incorrect use of reversed curse technique. arguments and stuff. description of injuries. def mean!gojo a bit and he's got vampire tendencies.

reader is of legal age (implied to be 19-20) and gojo is 28 so age gap!romance. obsessed!gojo and popular girl!reader trope. gojo is absolutely a mess in this, and reader is described as wearing short skirts, and wearing makeup.

rather questionable ethics and dynamics (teacher/former student) but rest assured its clear that his feelings are pretty recent. reader has him twirled and whipped around her fingers. reader is also def a baddie and ambiguously bi.

word count. 8.7k words im mad actually. this was meant to be headcanons song inspiration. greedy — tate mcrae

a/n. this is was gonna be from reader's pov but i thought it would be more fun from gojo's 🙂‍���️

mp3. i see you eyeing me down, but you'll never know much past my name. or how i'm running this room, but i'm still half your age. yeah, you're looking at me like i'm some sweet escape 😛

gojo satoru was not a weak man, no. he knew that he was an anomaly of nature, an unstoppable power that could reduce enemies to dust and make entire clans crumble with nothing more than a flick of his wrists.

so how was it, that when it came to you, his resolve was paper-thin?

every time your open gaze met his, every time you brushed past him, every time your presence filled the space around his infinity, gojo felt something inside him unravel. his breath would be caught in his chest, leaving his pulse to quicken and suddenly, all that strength and control would slip through his fingers.

gojo cursed himself for this, you see. he had never been one to lose control, but he was not quite sure when his entire body has started to betray him.

but no, fuck that, and he did his utter best to run his focus back onto the lesson at hand. unfortunately, the lesson at hand was with you. standing in front of him, arms slightly raised, palms out, and raising your brow as boredom passed over your face.

gojo cleared his throat, "your stance is good, but your cursed energy is all over the place. focus, breathe. centre yourself is what i'm saying," he instructed, but the words felt hollow as they passed through his lips.

unfairly, you're weren't the problem. he was. and now this was getting ridiculous. you had graduated not two, three years past? it would have been a disservice to still call you his student, but even as a mentee, you were still under his tutelage. and as recent as this immature infatuation was, this felt wrong.

but now you were frowning, starting to waver and the sharp, staccato tap of your heeled boot punctuated the wooden floor, click, click!

gojo looked to the sky, briefly, if to pray for patience and a calm of some sorts. he stepped forwards towards you, placing a hand on your waist to guide you into a better stance, and trying to ignore the way your skin felt warm underneath his fingers.

focus.

"don't let your body twist like that when you utilise your own cursed energy. keep it straight, balanced," he muttered, adjusting your posture slightly, hand on your spine — the heel of his palm pressing into a dent. a deity from the sky must have struck him with a cursed arrow, for his whole body was on fire.

because there you were, standing right in front of him, so close that gojo could feel the soft heat of your breath, the faint scent of a sweet perfume wafting off your skin, vanilla?

"you're not focused," gojo grimaced, though he wasn't sure if the rebuke was at himself, or at you — whose eyes widened briefly, and gojo tried not to recognise the curiosity and challenge that flashed across your face.

look at how she's staring at me. and gojo felt utterly ridiculous, and exposed, she knows. but instead of pulling away, you shifted ever so slightly towards him, your body arching as the barest brush of your breasts against his forearm had heat pulling through his body.

would you taste as sweet as you smelt? would you lean more into him if he asked?

he cleared his throat, "okay. relax, not every stance or position works for an individual. perhaps, you'll be able to focus better like this," and with his hand still on your waist, he pulled you into a swift spin. one that left your back pressed against the hard planes of the chest, and you facing the other wall.

you hummed, this time not in the way he wanted. your lips were lightly parted, and there was that soft sheen of gloss catching the light, making your lips look impossibly soft. gojo caught himself staring, wandering what it would be like to press his own mouth to yours, and whether you would squeal or moan.

still, if there was anything that gojo was good at, it was deflecting like a champ, "i think you're distracted," he laughed, low and amused, "is something making you lose focus?"

you tilted your head, and gojo didn't miss (nor did his heart or groin) that your gaze flickered to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his eyes again, feigning innocence, "don't tell me you're underestimating me, sensei. because i'd hate to think you can't keep up?"

gojo bit back a grin at the obvious bait, "careful," brushing strands of white hair that had fallen into his face away, "if you get too cocky, you tend to miss danger. you start to ignore things that should be noticed."

your voice dropped to a droll whisper, eyes glinting, "you think i don't notice things? i'm aware of plenty."

gojo forced himself to focus, to ignore the way that your lashes flutter with unshakable composure. trying to regain control, or some semblance of mind, he started counting each individual lash painted dark with mascara, lingering on the outermost curls that framed your sharp eyes.

after a beat, he forced himself to break eye contact, "alright," he said, stepping back with a casual shrug that he hoped conveyed just how nonchalant he was, "we’ll call it a day here and continue training tomorrow."

"backing out already?" you teased, leaning in just a little, making him tense at the closeness.

gojo chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "for your sake. you may be powerful, but you have to pace yourself."

you shrugged, nodding, "i'm going out anyway this evening," you said, hopping back a step before bending down to gather your things. gojo politely averted his gaze, his heart hammering from your previous proximity, and desperately hoping to avoid a...reaction, that would be quite inconvenient, as wide and loose as his martial pants were. like a fuckin' school boy with a crush. gross.

but as you slung your pastel bag over your shoulder and straightened up, he couldn't help a quick glance, catching the small, coy glimmer in your eyes as you turned to leave.

gojo sighed, pulling up his blindfold once more, "have fun," he half-heartedly offered, but you were already out the door.

the corridors were now empty, the clang of metal and chatter now silent, replaced with a quiet hum of the air conditioning. gojo wiped his face with the towel wrapped around his neck, the damp fabric clinging to his skin and the muscles in his arms and chest still warm from the intensity of training. his arms and chest glistened, the muscles warm and taut as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back with a low groan. exhaustion settled into him like a weight, each movement of his tired, bare torso slow and deliberate.

"oh, you're still here, sensei?"

gojo's eyes snapped open, drawn to the sound of your inquisitive voice. you stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hallway, and he immediately felt a rush of heat flood his chest.

well, fuck, now his mouth was dry. clearly, your previous iteration of 'going out' was a bit more glamorous than you had led on, and he was certain his wandering eyes betrayed him as it flickered over your figure. it took a titan's strength to keep his eyes from trailing down your long legs, the way your dress hugged the swell of your chest, or over your glistening neck. there was a faint shimmer, a glitter of some sort? it coated your skin, and gojo wanted to lick it off with his tongue.

what? no. who said that?

he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure.

you scowled at his reaction, clearly mistaking his silence for distaste. "what? i did say i was going somewhere," you retorted, your tone sharp but amused. "i’m more than allowed to leave the campus grounds.”

"of course,” he replied, voice outstandingly steady but his mind still trailing after every curve, every detail that made you look...well...dangerous in the best way, "don't let me stop you. who's the lucky guy?"

you arched a brow, folding your arms over your chest, and now, gojo really did have to look away and pretend that he was busy with retying a dark piece of cloth over his eyes, "who said it was a guy?"

gojo thickly swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a colossal blunder with no return, "that's not what i meant." the words 'my bad' stuck in his throat as you laughed and sighed.

"joking, sorry. it's a guy, this time." now you were fiddling with your long nails, with a satisfying clack as they ran across each other.

"i hope he shows you a great time then," he offered, half-hearted, blasé.

you took a step into the room, and gojo didn't even need six eyes to know that your eyes were raking over his chest, "i'm sure he will," all sweetness and sugar, "i've been training so hard, i deserve it, don't i?"

the words hit him harder than he expected, and he had to remind himself — she's not yours, satoru. but that didn't stop the gruff irritation bubbling up.

"a real man should be taking you out on a date like this,” he said, his voice a bit too rough for his liking. "not some guy who’s probably just looking for a good time."

you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "are you saying that there's someone else out there who can do a better job?" your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it — an edge that made his heart skip once more, "sadly, there just aren't many who've handled me well."

he ignored your immature, faux pout, and ran a hand through damp, icy hair — ignoring how his temper flared, rearing its ugly head.

was this all on purpose? to toy with him?

"you want to be handled, sweetheart?" gojo's voice dropped a little lower, indulging your teasing, "i've seen you lose focus easily, you could easily break."

your lips creased up, painted a tempting shade of dried-blood red (what the fuck was wrong with him? was he now just a horny vampire?) as you purred, "i'd need some help testing out that theory." your expression was open just enough for him to see the tiniest flicker of something in your eyes — something that told him you were enjoying this far more than you should.

an invitation of sorts, he wondered. did you want him to move? to make a move? it wasn’t a secret that you had always been a popular student practically a legend, rumours swirling around you like wildfire — whispers of broken hearts and sweetened smiles that could captivate anyone in your path. he had never paid attention of course, gossip always ran wild among students and he discouraged such whispers of who-did-what, for a grade 1 curse would never indulge such behaviour before they would get torn to shreds.

and even now, long after graduation as you worked around your old alma mater, men and women — everyone swooned at the chance to speak with you, and yet, here you were, playing this dangerous game with him.

gojo scowled, trying to push past the desire building inside him, the urge to have you underneath him, right on this mat in the training room. "well, don’t hang around too long," he said, his tone sharp as a blade. "i’m sure your date is waiting. go have a good time."

invitation declined. the morally right thing to do. right?

he didn’t need to look to see the small sneer that curled at the corner of your lips, or the way it turned into a fleeting expression of annoyance. he could hear the click of your heels echo down the hallway as you sashayed out.

what the everlasting fuck was wrong with him?

lo and behold, the great gojo satoru often found himself alone in his own private rooms. for 'the strongest' rarely had time to accommodate some other forms of company.

and frankly, he had no desire to do so now regardless. not when the echoes of your clicking heels still reverberated in his mind. the silence that echoed around him was heavy, suffocating and he was sure he looked erratic.

gojo ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the thought of you. but it was useless. his body was still on fire, the heat of jealousy smouldering in his chest, coiling in his gut like something alive, something dangerous. he had walked to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, his legs splayed wide apart as his shoulders slumped under the soft, amber glow of the setting sun that streamed through the windows. the sorcerer let his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed.

how absolutely ridiculous, he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair. no, he just couldn't stop it. couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted you. wanted you to want him too. and now, with the way you’d left, with that knowing smile on your lips, all he could imagine was the man you were with now, the man who’d be holding the door open for you, who’d be pulling out your chair, whoever the hell he was.

maybe even a casual, non-sorcerer. some random guy that you had indulged because he was no threat. but he wouldn't be able to touch you, not in the way that you demanded. the man would laugh at your jokes, brush his hand against yours, but wouldn't be able to let a real smile bubble from your lips like satoru could.

and what would that man do next?

would he try to take you back to his place? some small poorly-lit apartment where he'd try to kiss you, to claim your lips without even pulling away for air. would you kiss him back, curling into his frame?

before gojo's even registered what he's doing, his own hand has found his hard cock. despite the tattle of assistance, and dreamy-eyed mongers, pleasure is rare for him. relief, even less so. his schedule just doesn't allow it, and so he oft find himself chasing some distant contentment like this, alone in his rooms.

but he squeezes at the wide hilt, at his base, pulling his hands up, upwards as his brows furrow under blindfold, and he tugs the offending fabric off, away from him, as laden balls smack against his wrist.

maybe the man would then trail his lips down your neck, maybe he'd try to slowly sink his teeth into delicate flesh, leaving blooming purple marks that wouldn't fade, not when gojo saw you tomorrow.

he's running his curled hand up towards the fat mushroom tip, almost glowing pink with heat and pre-cum that's leaving his hand slicked with faint moisture, "shit, that's it."

then what? he can imagine your teasing smile as you decide to take your pleasure as you see fit. how you'd suddenly push this faceless man off, and move so you're straddling him, letting his hands wander around the curve of your hips, digging into plush flesh.

now he's starting to pant, open-mouthed, "ah - fuck! wish i had you here, right here." gojo must be a madman, breathing out to the empty, open air.

but in his mind's eye, you're reaching behind your back to undo the zipper on your outstandingly tight dress, giving the faceless man a coy smile as you push the fabric of your dress down, letting your plentiful tits spill out and against the man's chest.

his wrist is moving faster now, and there's a cramp starting to build up as he pistons his hand over his stretched shaft, and one arm is thrown over his face — the soft hairs on his thick forearm tickling his face as he tries not to gasp or whine too loudly, but he's bucking his ups now, pretending that it's not his hand that he's spilling into, but your tight cunt. and later, he shudders and tenses up, with apologies whispered into the air, "look, look - shit, i'm sorry - i'm sorry. couldn't help it, fuck." and gojo's bitten his lips so hard that he's certain he's drawn blood, vibrant red blooming on pale, creamy skin.

and a lamp had exploded as he came. damn, he'd have to replace that.

you don't deserve someone like him, no. not when he's sitting here, absolutely filthy with thick, white seed entirely over his tense abdominal muscles and stiff hand. not when he's trying to catch his breath after imagining how snug your pussy would feel around him, and how you'd beg for him to give it to you harder.

you didn't deserve someone so messed up with guilt, with mistakes, with the kind of weight that made him too much for anyone, let alone someone like you. didn't you deserve better than a tortured man who couldn't control himself, better than an overzealous mentor who was supposed to keep his distance, to do what was right.

but that didn’t stop his thoughts from swirling, as he separated damp, thick thighs from the smooth surface of the chair, reaching for a tissue. he couldn’t help it. and it made him feel like a damn fool.

the meeting room buzzed with tension, voices rising in sharp, clipped exchanges — some angry, some demanding and others clueless and questioning. gojo had woken up in a foul mood that morning, with some ill-gotten storm brewing beneath his chest. perhaps it was the thoughts of you that lingered from the night before, a gnawing jealously that left him feeling too tight in the stiffness of the uniform dress pants.

but he had forced himself to be dragged through this meeting, plastering a snarky light-hearted grin over his face as he leaned against the wall, letting the higher-ups argue themselves into oblivion.

amidst the storm of words, gojo's focus was nowhere near the mission being discussed. no, his attention was fixated entirely on you. you stood at the far end of the table, eyes flashing with ire as you tore into some pompous old fool who’d dared question your power. the others in the room shifted uncomfortably, deferring to you, as they often did, despite your youth. you had that rare combination of presence and bite that made people recoil back when you sunk your teeth into them, and this was not a knot gojo was interested in unraveling.

kojiro, one of the bumbling administrators, had turned his babbling attention to gojo, "you're still planning to face that curse head-on, gojo-san?" the poor man is wringing his hands at gojo's flat look (made all the more unreadable through a blindfold, satoru would wager), "don't you think it would be well - unwise? instead of expending your time and energy on one cursed spirit, you could handle five lesser ones. efficiency, you see."

gojo's gaze briefly flickers back to you, standing with your arms crossed as one hand fiddles with the end of your braid as your petal-pink lips scowl at some other official with words that don't fit his stature. your other hands keeps reaching around your neck, adjusting a plaid scarf over and over, like you're desparate to hide something under the fabric . well, fuck that.

"i'm aware of the risks," gojo turns his attention back to the matter, "but no one here has time for hesitation. if the curse is special grade, don't you at least think that delaying with lead to more destruction?"

"is it really the cursed spirit you’re worried about, takumi-san?" you asked, your voice low, the kind of voice that could make someone forget their own name.

gojo's gaze snapped to you from under the blindfold, but you weren’t looking at him, not even speaking at him. instead, you were locking eyes with one of the other sorcerers — takumi, a grade two with a shaggy mop of golden hair, one who had been a student alongside you and hardly subtle in his admiration for you.

gojo tries to hide a scoff at how takumi's eyes are wandering over you, ignoring the newpapers that have been flattened on the meeting table, with bold inked letters reading doom-portents such as 'unexplained explosion, 4 dead and 12 injured."

time and place, man.

"you don't think i can handle this mission. if you're worried about me, just say so," takumi's now leaning into you, even as gojo tries to train his ear on kojiro's economic-obsessed babble instead.

gojo can see your eyes flicker to the dastardly newspapers as well, clearly curling your lips at the dour news and takami's disastrous attempt at getting his hands under your skirt. but he also knows that sharp glint in your eyes, the one when you toy with those around you, to pull them in without ever committing to anything. clearly, you've decided to indulge this game.

"takumi," and you draw out the younger man's name, "shouldn't you bring more strength to the table? of course, i'm worried about a friend getting hurt. but even if you were stronger, or the strongest, a special grade curse could do some real damage."

and your eyes have flicked right towards gojo, raking over his frame leaning against the pale cream walls. he's glad for the blindfold, so you can't see how he scowls and furrows his thin brows at you, at your blatant hopes for a reaction from him. were you so unobservant that you did not know how much you bothered him?

the pointed sharpness in your words made takumi pause, and for just a moment, gojo could see the man’s grin falter. it was clear that you weren’t impressed by his attention, you had no need for his slimy attempts.

there was no mistake about it — this wasn’t just a flirtation. this was a game you played, and gojo was not only aware of it; he was caught in it. he tries not to feel irrationally angry, fuck, so much of his life revolves around his work, his job and now he can't even do that properly without feeling like you're using your long nails to dangle something in front of him, wanting to snap his teeth out and snatch it.

so you wanted him to see this. you wanted to claim that you could unravel the strongest sorcerer from the heavens to the earth below, to make him lose his composure. gojo feels as if there is crackling ozone in the air, and wonders dimly if the weather forecast predicted a rain storm for later today.

takumi, sensing the shift, finally backed off with a huff, but not before giving all around him a lingering look, as if it was their fault that you weren't interested.

"enough distractions," kojiro's interjected, raking a finger through a beard streaked with gray, and he's shooting a pointed look at you, snapping rose-pink gum, and takumi, shuffling with his hands in his pockets. "we're here to discuss the mission, not flirt." and then, he's off mumbling something about how this was why he hated having younger sorcerers join the meeting rooms.

his ire only grew. gojo stood with his back against the wall, outside the meeting room, once everyone had left with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. you stood in front of him, your eyes flashing with anger, your chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.

"absolutely not," gojo stood his ground firmly, "no-one will let you go on this mission."

you stomped on the floor, once as your heels snapped an echo, "they will if you say so."

gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, "who said that i would also allow you?"

you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, mimicking his previous stance but with a clear defiance in your posture. "and why the hell not? i'm more than capable of handling it. it's my fucking choice, and how can extra help hurt?"

"enough!" gojo snapped, feeling a tense pain in between his eyes, "it's too dangerous. and you're too young -"

"too young!" you've interrupted him, "i'm not some helpless child, sensei. i'm a grade 1 sorcerer! one of the best, i don't need to be treated like i can't handle a mission."

"grade 1. not special-grade."

his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. gojo could see the fury in your eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper, a vulnerability that he had seen before in students, some desire to prove themselves and be heaped with praise. he knew you were good, better than most — hell, better than many of the adults he’d seen. but this cursed spirit was unlike anything you’d faced before. and yet, here you were, challenging him, pushing him, daring him to stop you.

"you don’t get it," he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. you're too reckless."

"reckless!" now you had taken a step towards him, narrowing the space between you both. your eyes were fierce now, but there was something else in them — a spark of hurt that made his chest tighten, and gojo began to wander where this would start spiral. "i’m not reckless. i know exactly what i’m doing. the only reckless thing here is you thinking you have the right to control my every move."

"i'm the one in charge here," he said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "and i'm telling you now, you’re not going. you’re not ready for this. don't involve the higher-ups in this."

you were so close now, just inches apart. his eyes flicked to your lips, with the arch of a blooming flower kissed by the sun, for a brief moment, and then back up to your face, where anger and frustration mixed with something else — a challenge.

"maybe that’s the problem," you said, your voice quieter now, but still holding an edge. "you think i'm still some child who needs you to tell me what to do. maybe you just don’t want me to outshine you."

the words are ridiculous, and he can see by the mild quiver as your throat bobs that you don't mean what you say. it takes a rare type of courage to tell the first person in four hundred years to be born with limitless and six eyes, that he could be outshined. but satoru doesn't say a word to rebuke your obvious and false bait.

your body is so close now that gojo could feel the heat of your skin, your breath brushing against his. he could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla again in the air mingled with fresh, crisp apples, could see the subtle shine of your lip gloss catching the light. it was a testament to his spirit, he thinks, that he did not lean in straight away and touch his mouth to yours in this scenario that certainly did not warrant it.

"you want me to stop you that badly?" he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and something darker, that had not yet snapped. "is that what this is? a game? a way for you to get my attention? to see how far you can push me before i do snap?"

now he's got your tongue, and your expression has flickered for a brief moment before schooling into an impassive mask, and gojo briefly wanders if he's crossed an awful line and misinterpreted everything. if they're gonna stick a white dunce hat on his head and parade him through the streets of outer tokyo for being an assuming fool.

but then you've stepped even closer, your breath coming faster, the weight of your chest almost pressed against his, and gojo doesn't move and he's briefly aware that he's let his infinity down.

"partly, you know it's not just about you though. i do want to go on this mission, but -" you tilt your head and look right up at him, and the older man's head starts to reel from the fact that he was right all along, "i do want to see how far you can go before you snap."

his heart pounded, and for a moment, everything went still. all the tension, all the heat, the anger, and the desire — everything seemed to converge in the space between you. gojo's hand twitched, aching to touch you, but he held himself back, his muscles straining with the effort.

"stop,” he rasped, barely able to get the word out. "you don’t know what you’re doing, or what you're asking for."

he's never felt quite like this before, breathless as if the air has been punched out of his lungs. all gojo could think was how much he wanted to pull you closer, to kiss you until there was nothing left between you.

but he couldn’t.

he puts his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of your top, and gently pushes you away.

"my decision is final. don't make this harder than this, you're forbidden from the mission."

how sick and twisted, that you've fled with embarrassed tears pricking at your eyes, and he's stuck with a raging erection.

well, he had seen worse. but it didn't make this curse any less vicious. it was ancient, he could presume, and maddening. its cursed energy was warping the night air like a violent storm. but again, not the worst thing that he had encountered in his twenty-eight years, and with the right timing, he'd been able to calculate every strike and counter.

but then he saw you.

at first, he thought it was a blur — a trick of the light. but then, there you were, standing at the edge of the pavement, your figure framed by the chaotic crackle of cursed energy. fuck your stubborn nature.

this is not what is meant to happen. gojo's heart has skipped a beat, and he's not sure what he's more furious with. you, for defying his concern for your safety. or himself, for getting so distracted in. a battle.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?"

yes, he knows you're good. good enough to move with precision against a special-grade curse, your stance instantly and suspiciously better than the other day in the training rooms. it's only through his six eyes that gojo has been able to keep a track of your movements as your jujutsu is able to dodge the creature's brutal force.

impressive. but reckless.

and that never lasts.

you had moved to cast your own cursed technique, but the curse was intelligent enough to anticipate it. with a sudden lash of its tail, the creature swung its power straight at you, knocking you off balance. you stumbled, your footing lost, and before you could react, a flash of dark energy slicing across your shoulder.

a scream had torn from your lips as you fell to the ground, blood spurting from the deep cut.

and briefly, just for a flicker of time, gojo sees a dark-haired man in violet robes leaning against a brick wall, with his shoulder torn off, 'at least curse me one last time.'

blood rushing in his ears, before he even realised it, he was on top of you, his body hovering over yours, his jujutsu flaring as he shoved the cursed spirit back with a brutal force that made the earth tremble, an exorcism that will not take long. he kneeled beside you, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the wound on your shoulder. the blood was already soaking your clothes, darkening the fabric as you winced, your breath shallow and unsteady.

"you —” gojo isn't sure if his hand isn't shaking from how irate he is, "what the hell were you thinking? fuck, don't move."

your eyes were unfocused for a moment, but when they snapped to him, there was defiance there — even in this moment (get a grip!), as you gritted your teeth against the pain.

"save it, it's fine," you spat, your voice weak but vexed, "that bitch is still there."

"what did i tell you! what did i say would happen?" he cursed under his breath, focusing his reversed cursed technique as he tried to heal you, but the moment felt like an eternity as bright red blood moved too fast for him to seize it.

an assassin's blade in his throat, his arteries giving way and bubbling out and up.

now you don't answer, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. gojo's gaze darted to the cursed spirit, which was now advancing again, enraged by the interruption.

it won’t touch you again.

he stood, pulling you away from him, your body slumping slightly out of his arms. he could feel the heat of your blood soaking through his sleeve, but he had no time to dwell on it. the curse roared in fury, and gojo's infinity flared up around him again, a shield of pure energy blocking its path.

"stay down,” he growled, and all he received was a weak, "fuck, you think that's funny?"

it's only later when he's pulling you back up, that he realises that his reversed cursed energy has done enough to stem the bleeding, but not enough to leave you unharmed as your breath is shallow, your face taking on a more sickly pallor.

"don’t you ever — ever —do that again," he snarled, his voice raw and he wonders when something (or someone) has ever undone him so much. but the anger in his voice doesn't carry to his touch as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing the lines of your jaw.

the sterile walls of your room did nothing to soften the tension in gojo's chest as he stood by your bed, his eyes tracing the curve of your sullen form beneath the sheets. your shoulder was bandaged, with red seeping slowly through the white strips.

"you really are unbelievable," he snapped, his voice sharp as he paced around the room, every step heavy with frustration. "i told you it was too dangerous. i told you not to fucking go."

you lay there, your eyes half-closed, as though you weren’t even listening, but the twitching frown on your lips is sign enough that you're not as sorry. his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something — anything — to release the tension building in him.

"are you even listening to me?" he know he sounds bitter, over-reactionary, angry as he moved towards the edge of your bed.

you blinked slowly, your gaze still infuriatingly calm, "i'm fine, now. save the lecture."

he doesn't want to start sputtering so he settles for crossing his arms over his chest, but your voice breaks the silence again.

"you know i want to be a special grade sorcerer, right?"

gojo only looks down, not wanting to indulge an excuse and he studies the tight grip of his knuckles on his slender fingers, "well, i don't know why. the pay isn't that good." it's a weak attempt at a joke, but you're smiling.

"i was told i could only become one if i was the one to exorcise that special grade."

"by who? the higher-ups?" and you nod, wincing as you do.

what a fucking surprise. the way that the jujutsu world works is no surprise to gojo by now, having been surrounded by it his entire life. but the harshness of their reality still shocks him, old and doddering officials who cling to their silk robes are prone to sending out younger sorcerers (those who are still green, barely out of school) to do their dirty work for them, and the cemetery outside of jujutsu tech is ever growing.

he ground his teeth together, his chest tightening as he stared down at you. the bandages, the damp skin, the stillness of your body — it made him want to tear something apart. "fine! if they were giving you a hard time, why didn't you just come to me then?" he repeated harshly.

"would you go ask someone to help you, for something like this? if you were asked to prove yourself?"

gojo runs his tongue behind his teeth, "i'm the strongest, princess. i don't need to ask for help."

you groan, turning your head away from him, but a faint smile dances upon your lips.

he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into the edge of the bed. "you think this is a joke?"

"all four limbs are attached and i'm living and breathing. okay, so fine. my bad. i won't do it again. will you stop snapping at me now, at everything -" and gojo wonders if there's really some hurt colouring your voice, "what's going on?"

the words slip out, rough and unrestrained. "what’s going on is that you’re driving me insane. you act like this doesn’t matter, like i can just stand by and let you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing — like you don’t matter — but you do. you do matter."

his chest was heaving now, his hands shaking as he reached out and grabbed your wrist. his thumb brushed over your pulse, the tiny fluttering beneath your skin driving him wild. "i can’t — i can’t just stand there and watch you get hurt," he continued, his voice hoarse. "you don’t get to do whatever you want without consequences, damn it. you don’t get to make me feel this way, and then pretend like it doesn’t matter."

for a moment, there was silence. gojo's pulse was hammering in his ears, his body coiled with the intensity of everything he was trying to say. everything he was trying not to say. everything he wanted to act upon.

and then, with a slow, almost lazy smile, you turned towards him, "i didn't know the great gojo satoru was like this. who would have thought?"

his breath hitched in his throat. gojo wanted to say something, to snap at you again, to maintain that distance — but the truth was that the distance between the two of you had disappeared these past few weeks. his chest tightened, his hands trembling as they slid to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, and he relished how your facade almost cracked and you lightly shivered.

at least, he hoped you were shivering because of his touch. and not, like, a fever building up from your injuries.

fuck it.

and then, before he could stop himself, gojo was leaning down, his lips crashing into yours with all the force he could muster, desparate and hungry and that frustration and fear that he had been holding onto. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you towards him with a force that made your breath catch, as you responded with a soft gasp.

had he misstepped? no, for you kissed him back, tentatively at first, as if you were testing the waters, but then building up to a sudden urgency that mirrored his own. your hands slid to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pushed yourself closer to him, before crying out.

"ah! fuck, my shoulder."

small beads of blood surfaced where your collarbone met your shoulder, each one glistening like tiny rubies against your warm skin. they gathered slowly, delicate droplets that clung to you before tracing faint, uneven lines downward. the red stood out, vivid and fresh, dotting your skin in a stark, almost mesmorising gojo as they welled up and began to trick in thin, crimson trails.

"stay still," gojo rasped, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing closer. his mouth met the fresh blood pooling on your skin, tongue tracing over the small rivulets that had seeped from beneath the bandage.

he lingered, almost savouring the taste, his eyes darkening as the sharp tang of iron lingered on his tongue, smacking his lips slightly as he drew back, gaze fixed intently on you, on your heavy breathing as he stole away another kiss from you.

gojo's lips left yours briefly, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his eyes wild underneath the blindfold, gasping as your nails reached up to hook the fabric down so his hair loosened, falling around his face.

you were staring back at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and in that moment, gojo knew — he couldn’t stay away from you. no matter how much he tried.

your lips were soft, so soft, but there was fire behind the way you kissed him back, your hands landing on his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. he groaned, deep in his throat, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer.

his mouth moved urgently over yours as he shifted to stand beside the bed, his body hovering over you, every muscle tense, straining with the desire that he had tried so hard to ignore. gojo just couldn't think about anything else.

and your lips broke apart only briefly, and you let out a soft laugh, that damn, dangerous laugh of yours. "you're greedy, you know that."

his chest heaved, and his heart pounded in his ears, and blood was now pounding to his nether regions. he wasn’t sure if it was the previous anger or the ache between his ribs, but he couldn’t stop himself as he threaded his fingers through your soft hair, "i am greedy. greedy for you. only you - mmph! shit!"

you had run your long, painted nails (with the little painted charms on the end) down his neck before pressing them, hard enough to cause a sharp sting.

"you wanted to put me through hell," he whispered harshly, and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, "until i realised i liked it. until i realised i wanted you, all of you."

his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing gently as his lips found the tender spot beneath your ear, trailing kisses there, letting his teeth sink in, to see small bruises appear. gojo's breath was ragged as he fought to keep control, and something deeper inside of him roared with the need to claim you completely.

"you’re mine," he growled against your skin, the words hot and possessive. "i don't care what happens. you’re mine now."

you tilted your head, still smiling, but this time there was something different in your eyes — something that burned with the same intensity. "if i'm yours, what are you going to do about it? hmm, satoru?"

and that final thread, that last remnant of honour that he had been nurturing and holding onto, snapped.

"is this what you want, princess?" he draws out the nickname, letting it roll off his tongue, as you suddenly inhale sharply. his hands are all over you now, large hands exploring and kneading at your torso, and before he can even let you blink, they're under your top.

he's pressing his hot mouth to your sternum, wet and open-mouthed, and he wonders what sort of effect you have on him. what force in the world leave him panting like this, desparate as his hands find their way behind your back, to unclip whatever's holding your tits in place — just so he can reach back and run his palms over your hard nipples, flicking them and rolling them in between his fingers.

and faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that his reversed cursed technique must be working overtime, because suddenly you're rolling forward into him with no care in the world for your previously injured shoulder, as your own hands trail down the front of body, right over his bulge.

but he slaps your hand away, pressing you flat against the mattress, "fuck, not yet. you think i'm just going to let you get away with all this," and as you mewl a soft yes, followed by a please, he rolls his eyes, "wait. behave and i'll give you what you want."

and then, softer, "need to make sure you're ready first."

his arms are caging both sides of your head, and he's got one hand on the headboard (although, you will marvel at the burnt imprint that he's left, later) and the other is tearing your top off, just so he can lean down and let his canines press into the soft fat of your chest, so he can slip a pointed nipple into his mouth and tug it, ever so gently.

but gojo needs to continue lower, and his hand squeezes at the waistband of your short skirt, snapping the elastic twice as you heave your bare chest, "please, please, satoru!"

it's heaven down here for him, and gojo's dizzy at how outstandingly wet you are, with just a single swipe of his fingers in the soft, damp fabric of your underwear.

your clear, sticky arousal clung to his fingers, stretching in thin, glistening threads as he spread your thighs apart, knocking your knees to either side so he could slot himself in between them. your slick shimmered slightly under the light, translucent and tacky and he just couldn't help himself, bringing them up to his mouth to slowly taste.

"shit, princess. you taste so good, can't believe this is what i've been missing out on."

he's playing an instrument, he thinks. gliding his fingers along sodden folds, twirling his index finger past a thick wad of skin and pressing right over your clit in hot, tight circles that have you bucking your hips, "hnngh, right - ah, right there 'toru!"

'toru.

as a reward, he plunges his middle finger straight into your gaping heat, your tight wall of ringed muscles that had been fluttering in light pulses for his attention. fuck, he almost reaches his own climax by feeling how you squirm and writhe, moan and mewl as he starts pushing his finger in, and then out.

in, and then out. in, once more. and out, again. and then, another finger.

his fingers sank into your soft, damp pussy — which yielded easily enough with a soft pssh! as the digits pressed in. gojo pulled his hand back out from your thighs, enjoying the tight resistance and suction as your cunt has resisted being empty once more, leaving a cool moistness on his skin.

but now your hands gently cup his face, and he isn't sure how to not crumble with how you look at him, eyes wide and glossy, "wan' more, want your cock, 'toru."

now, gojo feels as though he's truly ascended, gone onto some higher plane of existence. because how can he resist when your hands are weakly pawing at his belt, at his waistband and he's letting you pull his thick shaft out.

it's hot, and already weeping angry tears of pre-cum, and he just loves how your eyes widen at the sheer size and girth.

"yeah, princess was sooo brave earlier, wasn't she? wanted my cock, ah! shit - did she?" and he's letting the wide tip lay heavy against your clit, knocking it once, and then twice, through your heavenly folds.

you've reached a leg up, and around his waist, pulling him closer and gojo has to pierce his lip with his teeth to not let out a gutteral groan from his cock sliding through the your folds, "i don't - don't care, i really don't fucking care if it's too big. just put it in now, m' so wet, i'm wet enough."

your babble is endearing, and he marvels at how easily he has you cock-drunk without even being in you right now. he jostles further, until the tip is right at your flittering entrance, pressing forward and slipping through the heated, slick gummy texture in a way that has the strongest's head spinning.

"easy, princess. oh fuck, you're too tight. way too tight, i'm gonna -" and gojo inhales, steadying himself, as the wet heat enveloped him as he moved, each slide through the soft walls of your pussy leaving him acutely aware of every inch, the warmth coating him further until your slick was dampening the white, stray hairs of his groin.

he pulls your lips close again, one hand coming up to gently cradle your head, and his fingers weaving slowly through your hair.

"you're so deep in me, 'toru! so - hnngh," and your words are cut off by a staccato thrust of his hips, and your teeth clack around a moan that gojo gladly swallows.

"hey, i'm right here. i've got you, yeah? got you so good, just hold onto me."

and he keeps a steady pace, plunging into molten silk, with a sensation so intense and so enveloping that it left him breathless, with a rush of heat that made his head spin.

he's toying with your tits, pressing his face into the shadow that lies between your mounds, and gojo's certain that he could die a happy man like this, exactly like this.

he realises that the faint laugh is coming from him, so distant is he in his pussy-drunk reverie, that he realises he must look and sound like a madman, "pretty pussy is so tight, so fucking tight. haah, i think i'm gonna have to fill you up, gorgeous?" and he must be blathering, "want me to fill you up? shit- want me to stuff... ah! stuff you so full of cum that we just hafta stay in this bed all day then?"

he had his fingers now moving in circles over your throbbing clit, exerting a gentle pressure that had you so beautifully keening and bucking your hips up, jolting right into his pelvis. and gojo bit back as a groan as his heavy balls started to smack, and smack! over and over again, right onto your dampened skin.

"she must be close right, pretty little pussy must be almost tired now," and gojo's now slapping your clit, lifting three fingers up and bringing them down with enough force to not harm you, but make you jolt, "she. must. be. so. close." and each word is punctuated by the slippery spank of his fingers bouncing right off your mound.

"makes me want to have you - you and her," and gojo's revelling in the slick of your pussy, now throwing his head back without shame.

and when your walls start to flutter, when you start writhing in his grasp, pressed right against his chest with your legs knocked back as far as they reach on other side of his broad frame, he feels himself unravel. feels the rhythmic quake of your tight cunt literally milk him dry, letting pools of thick, white seed plug within you, and he almost shakes and tears up himself, at the idea of claiming you like this.

later, he has you resting against his chest and the knot in his chest, that nasty plague that sent him afoul has disappeared, and gojo feels as though he's about to start purring, from the feeling of your nails trailing little shapes over his skin (little hearts, perhaps?) and how soft your hair feels under his own hands. he can't resist himself from pressing his lips softly to your forehead, "happy?"

you laugh, a genuine, soft sound that erupts from your chest as you press your bare body into him, "you have no idea."

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 3 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: When Jake teaches you about foreplay, he also gives you a lesson in patience. Your body feels like it wants to rush through the motions, but he has a way of coaxing pleasure from you that you didn't realize any man was capable of.

Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

Your words were echoing in Jake's thoughts.

"I want you to make me feel good."

This was why he wanted to engage in small talk in the first place. To get to know you and let you see that he was capable of being more than a quickie to satisfy your agenda. He could be the opposite of the other guys, especially the ones at the bar. They wouldn't have the patience or take the time to make it good for you. But Jake would make sure you learned what you needed to know, and you'd have a smile on your face the whole time. As he gripped the globe of your ass with one big hand, he was getting more and more certain that he'd be smiling right along with you.

"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

Your lips were brushing his with every little movement and every breath you took. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been with someone so eager, and it was almost comical how unwilling you were to accept that fact. He smiled as your fingers grasped at the back of his neck while you rubbed your lace covered pussy all over the front of his jeans without much finesse. 

Not that it was unappealing. Not at all.

Just as your hand found its way down his body, ready to dip back inside his pants, he started to guide you away from his kitchen counter and your abandoned wine glass full of ice water. "Alright, Darlin'. Time to see how much you've learned so far. What was lesson number one?"

You seemed to be in a bit of a daze as he walked you backwards out of the kitchen and through the living room. "Um... don't talk about another guy when I'm touching your cock?" you whispered, eyes glued to his face.

"Very good. Now it's time for lesson number two: foreplay," he told you as he walked you backwards out of the kitchen and through the living room. You were wearing your tight tank top, a black thong, and your Converse sneakers. Your nipples were hard against his abdomen, making you all too appealing in your innocence. "And if you like the way that progresses, we can head right into lesson number three: oral sex."

Your eager eyes were wide as you looked up at him and asked, "You want me to give you a blowjob?"

He sure fucking did. He could already imagine the way you might hesitate before ultimately letting him guide you. His cock throbbed again as he thought about your excited but unpracticed moves. Shit. But truly, that's not what he'd been referring to.

"Not exactly," he grunted, mouth already watering at the scent of your arousal. You swallowed hard, your brow puckering softly like you couldn't understand his words. "We'll get there soon enough. But first..."

Jake liked to think he was good at foreplay. Whether he actually wanted to know about it or not, his older sisters were never quiet when they used to talk about guys, and he'd picked up a few vital bits of sage advice. One of them was the simple fact that women would go absolutely wild for a guy who was willing to spend the time required to really get them going. Even better if it was obvious he was enjoying himself, too.

So he got to work, but it didn't feel like work at all. Not when he had you pushed up against the wall in the hallway with his thick thigh wedged between yours. "Oh my god," you gasped, fingers tangled up in his hair. He let his lips meet yours before you finished speaking, and he kept them parted with his. One soft swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and you were rolling your hips against him.

You moaned softly as you broke the kiss, head tipped back against the wall. "Damn, you look cute," Jake grunted, and you made another soft sound as he examined your needy face. Then he licked a stripe along the side of your neck before kissing the same path and whispering, "You taste good, too. The other guys don't even know what they're missing."

"Jake." You were squeezing his thigh with your legs now as you clung to him, but he continued to casually sucked on your neck just above your collarbone. "Jake!"

"Feel good?" he asked, determined to make sure you were still enjoying yourself along the way before he kept going further. "Or you want me to stop?"

"Don't you dare stop," you practically shouted, ending on a soft whimper as he nudged at the strap of your flimsy little tank top with his nose. His fingers toyed with the lace thong along your hips as you gasped, "I'm... I'm really turned on."

Jake smiled against your shoulder, giving your hips a squeeze. "We're just getting started."

--------------------------

Foreplay was awesome. Foreplay was your favorite thing in the whole world. You'd never experienced it before, but now that you were in the middle of it, you never wanted it to end. Your skin was slick with sweat, but so was Jake's as he worked his hands up inside your top. Your voice cracked when you said his name which just made his rough fingers knead into you a little harder. God, he was something else.

"Jake," you whispered, already feeling like you were on the verge of an orgasm. He still had all of his clothes on, but his right leg was in between both of yours, and it felt better than it did when you touched yourself. Then his hands started slowly guiding your top up, exposing first your belly and then your breasts, leaving you no time to feel self conscious. He tossed your shirt aside as you stood there before him.

"God damn it," he groaned, and his hands slid around to your butt, hoisting you further up his leg. The sensation of your pussy rubbing his jeans again had you panting and scrambling to get your arms around his neck as your breasts mashed against his chest.

He was carrying you further down the hallway with his big hands gripping the backs of your thighs, and you were sucking in shallow breaths as you managed to ask, "Are you going to fuck me now?"

"Jesus Christ," he grunted. "You know, you're pretty fucking good at dirty talk for a virgin, Darlin'." 

You were still clinging to him as you looked around his bedroom. A king sized bed, modern furniture, huge windows, en suite bathroom, and a walk-in closet. He was an adult. Jake was a thirty year old man, and you'd never wanted anything in your life as much as you wanted him. "You didn't answer me," you whispered, your lips brushing his ear before he practically tossed you onto his bed. You squeaked as you sank into the soft, white bedding, making sure you kept your sneakers from touching any of it.

He was looking down at you, eyes raking from your face to your breasts and even lower as he touched himself through his jeans. Then he yanked his shirt over his head, and you gaped at his muscular chest and abs and shoulders. "I promised I'll make sure you come. But I don't need to fuck you to make that happen." He reached for your left ankle, circling it with one hand while he untied your shoelace. "These are cute, but they need to go." He tossed your shoe toward his closet, and soon the second one joined it.

Just when you propped yourself up on your elbows, he was on top of you, kissing your lips as you muttered his name. When his mouth trailed back down along your neck, he didn't stop. You gasped when his lightly stubbled cheek found your breast, but he kept going until your nipple was in between his lips, and you spread your legs wider to accommodate his body. You gave up, letting yourself sink onto your back as his big hand palmed and teased you while he tasted you seemingly everywhere.

Your mind was swimming as you tried to figure out how he was going to make you come, but a few seconds later, you were convinced his tongue swirling around your nipples could be enough. You knew you were making needy little noises, but you felt yourself clenching around nothing, and you were still wearing your thong. Your soaking wet thong. 

"Oh!" you gasped when Jake plucked at your nipple with his lips before looking up at you while he stroked your side lazily. He kept his eyes on you as he kissed at the underside of your breast, and you just gaped in response.

"If you were anybody else," he mused, "sure, I'd fuck you right now." Your body felt impossibly warm as his pretty green eyes seemed to darken. "But you have a lot to learn about." His hand trailed down your side, over your belly and to the tiny bit of lace covering you from being completely naked in his bed. 

"Tell me what I need to learn," you whispered, and Jake slid back off the bed, pulling you to the very edge with him. He knelt on the floor, pushing your thighs apart and planting your feet on the bed. You almost screamed his name when he leaned in and kissed you through your underwear, and something like possessiveness flashed in his eyes.

"It's always about you, Darlin'," he drawled. "That's what you need to know. It's not about me. It's never about the guy. It's about you."

"What do you mean?" you panted as he reached for the lace at your hips and started to pull it down. You had to lift your butt up from the edge of the bed and raise your legs up in the air, but your damp thong was soon on the bed next to you.

Jake grunted, planting your feet in place again as you spread out completely naked for him. When he kissed your bare pussy, you bucked up off of his bed and grabbed at the duvet, trying to squeeze your legs together. His big shoulders were in the way, and his finger was running up and down your slit as he said, "It's always about you. I'm gonna come no matter what. Any guy would if you treated him to your body. So you make sure you get what you deserve before he indulges to the point of no return."

And then his mouth was all over your pussy, and it was better than anything you'd ever felt in your life. "Oh my god." It was like the breath was knocked from your lungs as he licked up and down and back up to your clit. It was as if your body was trying to fight you as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch what he was doing, and you just stared at him, mouth agape. It looked fucking hot as his glistening lips pressed against your clit before he started sucking gently, and you were already so close embarrassingly to an orgasm.

"You don't have to do this," you blurted out way too loud as Jake met your gaze. "Guys don't like doing this?" It sounded more like a question as you watched him drag his tongue in a slow circle around your clit before kissing you there. His pupils were huge, and now you were confused, because it definitely looked like he was enjoying himself as his fingers dug into your thighs.

"Men love this." His words and the way he dragged his nose through your slick pussy left you with your mouth hanging open. "But if you're not enjoying yourself, all you need to do is say so."

Your voice shook as he sucked gently on your clit once again. "I'm definitely enjoying myself."

---------------------------

You were soaking wet, your arousal slick as Jake ran his tongue along your slit. You tasted sweet and tangy, and you smelled so good, he had to bury his nose in you over and over. Just a perfect pussy. Technically you'd never been fucked by a guy before, but maybe someone else already got to taste how exquisite this was? He had to know.

He released your clit and kissed his way up your belly, watching your chest heave with every breath you took as you tried to rub against him for more friction. "Anyone ever get you off with their mouth before, Darlin'?" 

Your eyes were wide, and your stuttered response was music to his ears. "N-No."

"Nobody has ever tasted you like this?" he asked softly, as you touched his hair almost reverently.

"Never."

How was he supposed to do anything else at the moment besides guarantee that he was not only your first, but your best. Guarantee that you thought about him anytime any other man touched you here. He never wanted you to be disappointed, ever, but he needed to know you'd think about his mouth when someone else just couldn't seem to get the job done like he could.

If you thought guys didn't like eating pussy, then you must have heard that shit from some college jackasses who had no idea how fucking good it felt to lap up after an orgasm. They were the type to chase their own pleasure instead of finding out how much better it felt to cum after watching your partner fall apart at your touch. They didn't deserve to get to have you, and now he was rejoicing in the fact that he didn't let you go prancing around campus in your little leather skirt after all.

Your hands were wound up tight in his bedding, and your back was arched off of his bed as you keened and gasped his name. You couldn't seem to get control of your own body, but he didn't care. He was rock hard, enjoying every moment of this. He kissed the inside of your thigh to give you a break, and sure enough, you eased your ass back down onto the bed. But as soon as he ran his tongue back from your hole to your clit, your body jerked up again.

"Come here," he crooned, wrapping his hands around your waist, holding you gently in place. "God, you're eager for this. You ready for me to make you come?"

"Yes," you gasped as he held you down and licked his way through your pussy, each stroke more intentional than the last. Each press of his lips to your clit a little bit rougher. And you got louder again for him as he brought you to the edge. Your voice was hoarse as he sucked on your clit, your hips rolling gently in his grasp. "Oh my god, oh my god!" Your feet were digging into the edge of his bed, but he didn't let up until your legs were shaking. Then you reached the peak, and Jake couldn't remember ever enjoying himself this much.

He was never going to forget the pitch of your voice as you cried out and came all over his tongue. He lapped up every last bit of you as you panted on his bed, arms limp at your sides. He ran his nose along your thigh, and when he stood, he looked down at the little grin on your face as your eyes fluttered open. 

"Did you have fun?" he asked, and you turned your head to the side in embarrassment as you closed your legs, but you were still smiling.

"Yes," you whispered as he eased himself onto the bed next to you, and you met his eyes. "I can't believe you did that without... you know...."

He ran his thumb along your lip as he lounged on his side in his jeans. "You gonna finish that sentence?" When you shook your head and laughed he said, "Come on, Darlin'. Enlighten me."

You squirmed a bit and sighed as you whispered, "You didn't... penetrate me... at all."

Somehow those words had him wrapping his arm around you and pulling you flush against him on your side. When he kissed you softly, you gasped and tentatively licked his lip. You pulled away, eyes wide before going in for a more aggressive kiss, and Jake groaned as you tasted his mouth. "Oh," he grunted. "You like the way you taste?"

You whimpered into his mouth as you swiped his tongue with yours, and Jake let you taste yourself on him to your heart's content. The only issue he had was the way you kept nudging his erection with your leg, and holy shit, he was starting to get blue balls. He carefully guided your leg over his hip as you licked your way along his cheek with your fingers in his hair. If you were enjoying yourself this much, then he was ready to give you more.

His voice was barely a whisper as you kissed his nose. "You wanna feel a little penetration?" When you pulled your face away from him a few inches and nodded, he said, "Lesson four. My hand."

When he reached between his body and yours and cupped your pussy, your eyes fluttered closed. He kissed your pretty face as he teased your hole until you were grabbing the back of his neck and whining, "Please, Jake!"

He gave you anything you wanted. First one finger and then two. And then his thumb on your clit when you begged for that. Your hips were moving in time with his hand, and it was evident that you were still worked up from your first orgasm. "I want you to think about me," he growled as you started to clench around his fingers. "When you touch yourself, but especially when someone else isn't quite good enough. You think of me."

------------------------------

Jake was pumping two fingers inside you and easing you onto your back, and you'd be shocked if you could ever think of anything other than his soft hair and green eyes ever again. You started kissing him, pulling him closer with one hand one his neck and one on his cheek as he finger fucked you. Your body felt wrung out from your first orgasm, but he had you right there again already.

You shivered as you tasted his tongue, the feel of his sure and steady thumb on your clit making you unable to control yourself. You could feel how hard his cock was, pressed to your leg through his jeans, and you wanted to figure out how to give him a handjob or a blowjob, just like he'd done for you. If he let you try, you'd make sure you did your best, because he was about to make you come again. 

"Jake," you gasped, your teeth grazing his lip as you held him close. But he pulled away enough that he could watch you with a little smirk as you looked up at him and started whining. It felt that good, the way his fingers pumped and the way his thumb circled your slick clit. You were riding his hand as you felt yourself clench around his thick fingers, and then it was all over. You saw stars. You heard a high pitched sound in your ears. You were babbling incoherently. You were coming so hard.

Jake's lips were on your breasts, your skin slick with sweat and saliva as the cool air in his bedroom hit you there, and you almost wanted to scoot away from him as you started to feel overstimulated, but he seemed to know it was time to pull his hand from between your thighs. His fingers were glistening, but you caught his wrist before he could wipe them on his jeans.

"Damn," he crooned as you guided his hand to your mouth. "You're the filthiest virgin I've ever met."

You laughed as you let his fingers slip between your lips, and you cleaned your taste off of him with your tongue. Jake's green eyes were wide, and as soon as you let his hand slip away, his tongue was swiping yours like he wanted another taste for himself. Even though he'd had his face buried in your pussy not too long ago. You kissed him and let his hand roam your chest and up to your neck, and just when you felt him grind his cock against your belly, you couldn't hold back your enormous yawn.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, trying your best to cover your mouth with your hand as a second yawn started up. "You wore me out."

"Don't apologize for that, Darlin'," Jake drawled, and he collected you in his arms and helped you stand up on shaky legs. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He held your hand and led you into his bathroom. You glanced around the tidy space at the fancy shower and the double sink vanity while he dug around in a drawer. The room was masculine and smelled good, just like he did. And you kind of liked the way he casually kissed your cheek as he handed you a green toothbrush that reminded you of his eyes. "Here's a clean washcloth, toothpaste and face wash. Let me know if you need anything else."

When he started to walk away, you said, "Wait." He turned back, green eyes on you as you asked, "You want me to stay?"

Jake shrugged and said, "Only if you want to. You've still got a lot to learn. Or I can drive you home instead."

His eyes looked a little guarded now, waiting for your response. "I'll stay," you whispered, and he nodded with a little smile.

You yawned again as he exited the room and pulled the door closed softly behind him, and when you looked in the mirror, you did a double take. It wasn't that you looked different exactly, but maybe you did. Jake hadn't even fucked you, but perhaps you looked a little older now. You laughed, knowing you were full of nonsense as you brushed your teeth. Then you washed your face and used the toilet, biting your lip at the way your body felt kind of sore after two delicious orgasms.

When you walked out of the bathroom, Jake was pulling the duvet back, wearing just a pair of boxer briefs. His cock was still hard, and you desperately wanted to show him some appreciation, but you couldn't stop yawning.

"Climb in, Darlin'." You were about to stay the night with a thirty year old man you just met a few hours ago, but you didn't feel apprehensive at all. Even though his mouth had been all over your body, and he knew what you sounded like when he made you come. 

You ducked your head as you climbed under the covers, and Jake surprised you by leaning down and kissing your forehead. When he stood up again, you started to scoot over, but he turned toward the bathroom. "Are you coming back?" you asked softly.

Jake nodded and said, "Yeah, I just need a minute." His voice was strained, and as he turned off the lamp next to his bed, your gaze drifted to one of the huge windows and the stars in the late night sky. 

"Can you hear the ocean from your room?" you asked with another yawn as your eyes closed. 

"Sure can," he replied with a chuckle. You heard him slide the window open and felt the cool breeze on your face. Almost immediately, you dozed off to the sound of the ocean and the feel of Jake's fingers on your cheek.

-----------------------------

Jake had to be out of his mind for inviting you to stay over, but the last thing on his mind was booting you out like a random tag chaser. And besides, he wanted to spend more time with you. There was something about you that he really liked. You were a smartass, and you were funny. And your body was sweet and sensitive, and as a result of all of those things, he had a problem he needed to take care of.

He watched you curl up in his bed with a smile on your face as you listened to the sounds of the ocean, and then he rushed into the bathroom. With less finesse than he showed you, Jake yanked his underwear down and wrapped his hand around his cock. He was aching with need, your taste still on his tongue as he jerked off. You were in his bed. His room smelled like your arousal. "Shit," he grunted, stroking himself quickly. 

When you asked if he wanted you to give him a blowjob, he should have said yes. The idea of you on your knees for him, practically oozing sweet innocence with your lips parted in invitation was too much. But he wanted to spend hours working you up, fucking you until you screamed his name. He wanted to teach you so many things and be the first one to do all of them. He'd already taken you to the brink of overstimulation and exhausted your body, and now he just wanted to do it all over again.

As soon as he pulled up the memory of your hand wrapped around his cock in the kitchen, Jake came. Hard. He was panting your name, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he leaned against the wall. Exhausted and finally sated, he yawned before he cleaned himself up and brushed his teeth. When he walked back out into his bedroom and found you snuggled up in the middle of his massive bed, he slipped in next to you.

"Jake," you moaned softly, rolling to face him and wrapping your arm across his chest. He held you close as he listened to the sound of the ocean in the darkness, and then he was asleep too.

------------------------------

I think she probably needs a few more lessons.... I'm going to let her have a few more lessons. What would you want Jake to take the time to teach you? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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