#and so I'm still sitting here feeling insecure about it. been getting a lot of rejections lately.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i think one of the things that upsets me the most about velma and shaggy's relationship in sdmi--and boy there is a lot--is that not only is her constantly ''correcting'' him for minor, harmless, and usually completely reasonable things with physical and emotional abuse, well. abusive by itself. but so many of the things he does that she treats him that way over are very autistic things, and what she subjects him to is textbook abuse aimed at autistics in particular. (including the part where she gets more and more pissed whenever attempts at said emotional abuse fly over his head, because he's too bad at picking up cues for them to land fully.)

[cws: anti-autistic ableism, ABA, self-harm, physical and emotional IPV, victim-blaming, and abuse apologism. it's a lot and it's really fucking bad lmao]

-

like. there's a lot of examples there; shaggy's behavior coming across as autistic is worth a whole post of its own, and a lot of media depicts abuse targeted at autistic traits because ✨️hooray ableism.✨️but she straight up tries to Fix Him (read: force him to perform a Presentable Personality) by forcing him to wear clothes that are sensory hell, and trying to condition him to self-harm every time he does some small harmless, reflexive thing she thinks is Poor Socialization until he stops. and to catch himself doing it, and punish himself, without being prompted. i cannot fucking overstate how fucked up that is.

they even got down the fun little aspect of ABA where the methods of conditioning-through-pain are presented as toys and kiddish things: she gives him a rubber band to wear on his wrist, and tells him to snap it as hard as he can every time he says 'like.' 🙃🙃🙃🙃

like. this does not begin to scratch the surface of the abuse she puts him through in general. and again, characters being abused for autistic traits with the approval of the narrative is a common thing in media, which sucks. but holy fucking shit! they really took the 'violent ableism that is done to autistics irl' to the next fucking level here!

.......and it's portrayed as kind of cringey, immature teen drama on both sides. the self-harm, his dread over how much he knows it'll hurt, and the extreme pain it causes him to the point of screaming are all supposed to be funny. and her arc is all about learning to accept that she deserves better, because she was repressed and had low self-esteem and therefore putting him through fucking DIY ABA didn't make her happy.

🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

anyway if you couldn't tell i can't fucking stand sdmi velma and i have a lot of words in me about it. when one of your main heroes would have made a way more compelling villain as they are, on a more mundane level compared to all the wild fantastical shit they go up against, holy shit go back to the drawing board you have fucked up. she could have been genuinely good representation of a marginalized person dealing with the trauma of her experiences in some shitty ways she has to grow past, and an interesting flawed character, without being absolutely despicable--hell, she'd have made a great foil to pericles if they'd handled him decently too. they have a lot of parallels, which only gain more depth when you add their respective parallels with cassidy into the mix. and it really fucking sucks that we got this instead.

[asinglesock]

oh no, I sure hope I don't get accepted to work this full time sub-minimum wage position that I applied for. That would be terrible. Sure would be a shame if I got it.

[storiesforallfandoms]

new toy ~ felix catton;saltburn

word count: 5901

request?: no

description: when he brings a girl home for the summer, she finds herself struggling to fit into his lifestyle

pairing: felix catton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of parent deaths, farleigh being a catty rich bitch (affectionate), feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, little bit of angst, things get steamy but no actual smut in this one

masterlist (one, two, three)

Venetia rushed to the window of her bedroom as she heard the car carrying her brother pulling up the drive. The family had been made aware that Felix was bringing a friend home for the summer. Not that anyone had to tell them. Felix often had a new sad sack in tow whenever he came home from school, who would never be seen again once they returned to school at the end of the summer. Venetia had tried to get some information on this new friend from Farleigh, but her cousin said he hadn't seen anyone new hanging out with Felix during the school year. She was itching to get a peak at Felix's newest toy.

She gasped and turned to Farleigh, who was looking at her in curiosity. "It's a girl!"

(Y/N) stepped out of the car as Felix excitedly talked away. She looked at the giant house with wide eyes. She knew Felix had money; his parents were paying his way through college after all, meanwhile (Y/N) was a scholarship kid. But she never could've imagined he was this level of rich. His house was a goddamn castle!

She was wondering if it was too late to back out of Felix's offer to stay over.

An older man dressed in a black suit opened the front door as (Y/N) and Felix approached. (Y/N) stopped suddenly as the man's glare landed on her.

"Duncan!" Felix exclaimed. "How are you, you serious old brute?"

"Good to see you, master Felix. This is your new...friend?"

The way he said it made (Y/N) wince.

Felix turned to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Don't be frightened, (Y/N). This is my family butler, Duncan. He looks terrifying, but his bark is worse than his bite."

(Y/N) tried to smile at Duncan, but he merely continued to stare her down. She shrunk into Felix's embrace, which, luckily, the taller boy noticed her discomfort and brought her into the house. With his arm still around her, Felix brought (Y/N) around the giant house. There was so much to see, so much to know. There was simply no way she'd remember it all. She expected to get lost just trying to get to the bathroom.

Luckily, that wouldn't be a problem at least, as Felix led her into his room. "Your room is just through here. We'll be sharing a bathroom. Hope you don't mind."

She was glad he wasn't facing her so he missed the look on her face at his statement.

Felix threw the door to her room open with a flourish before turning to her. "And this is where you'll be staying. Don't worry about unpacking, the butlers will do that for you. It has a nice view of the garden and such, and I'm just next door past the bathroom, as you've already seen."

He flopped down onto her bed and stretched out so he was taking up the entire bed. (Y/N) pushed his leg over a bit so she could sit next to him. "It's a lot to take in."

"I know," Felix said. He rolled onto his side to look up at her. "It'll feel like a lot, but I promise my family will love you. And if it gets overwhelming, I'll be here."

He put his hand on her leg. She looked down at it, the heat from where his hand was touching rising from that spot all the way up to her face. Her entire body felt like it had been ignited by a simple gesture to try and bring her comfort. She wondered if Felix knew what he did to her.

She tried not to let her disappointment show as Felix stood, removing his hand from her leg.

"I'll let you unwind or whatever," he said. "Dinner isn't until 5, so you have plenty of time to yourself until then. You brought a dress, right?" She nodded. "Good. Mum and dad insist on fancy dinner wear. It's a little embarrassing. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

And just like that, he was gone. (Y/N) sighed and fell back onto the bed.

This definitely was not how she expected to spend her summer. She had started her time at Oxford as an outcast, a scholarship loser among a sea of rich kids. She tired not to let it get to her. Getting into Oxford at all was a big deal, (Y/N) knew to be proud of that. But that didn't make the whispers and dirty looks directed towards her any easier to take.

She didn't seek out friendship with anyone, let alone with Felix. Of course, she had noticed Felix. Who wouldn't? He was beautiful and had charm for days. Everyone loved him. But (Y/N) knew better than to try and approach him. They were from two completely different worlds, and (Y/N) knew she didn't belong in his world.

To her surprise, it was Felix who initiated first contact.

They were in an English class together. Felix had sat next to her one day and asked, "Did you finish the reading for today?" (Y/N) was so shocked that he had spoken to her that she could only nod in response. "Can you summarize it for me? I tried to read it but it was so fucking boring."

Apparently, that one act of kindness was enough to consider (Y/N) a friend. Felix invited her to sit with him at the bar, to come study in his room, to go to the "invite only" parties on campus. His other rich friends didn't seem to enjoy her company, but he did and that's all that mattered.

When (Y/N) told Felix she had nowhere to go for the summer, he invited her to come stay with him and his family in Saltburn. He refused to take no for an answer. So now here she was, in a bedroom that only had a bathroom to separate her and the boy she had started developing feelings for but knew she couldn't have, in a house the size of a castle owned by a family who mad more money than she'd ever see in her life.

She let out another sigh for good measure before sitting up. She still had plenty of time before dinner, but she wanted to make sure she was presentable to meet Felix's family for the first time. She got up and went to the bathroom, locking the door that led to Felix's room just in case. There was no shower, so she had to opt for a bath. She tried to be quick, but once she had laid in the oversized tub and allowed the hot water to engulf her, she never wanted to get out. Maybe she could spend the entire summer in the tub instead of dealing with Felix's family.

When the water began to go cold, she reluctantly got out and returned to her room. She had packed the limited amount of makeup she owned just in case there were any formal gatherings she needed to dress up for. Now she was definitely glad she had if dinner was meant to be a formal thing. She did her makeup carefully to make sure it was perfect, then dug through her bag for the dress she had packed. It wasn't anything super fancy, just a royal blue, off the shoulder dress with a pleated skirt that came down just above the knee. It was the nicest dress she owned, so eh hoped it would suffice.

There was still some time before dinner, but (Y/N) figured it was time to meet the family.

She stepped out of her room and realized she had no idea where to go to find the dining room.

"Need help?"

(Y/N) jumped and turned to see Duncan stood, blank faced yet again, looking at her,

"Yes please," she responded, her voice soft.

"Follow me," Duncan told her. He didn't wait to see if she was following, she she quickly troted along behind him to keep up.

The Catton family was sat around the dinner table already when Duncan led (Y/N) into the room. All eyes turned to her when she walked in. She suddenly felt very self conscious and wished she was back in the hot, welcoming bath tub.

Until she caught Felix looking at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

"Oh, Felix, darling," an older woman sat at the head of the table - Felix's mom - said. "She is absolutely beautiful."

His mom stood from her seat and quickly approached (Y/N). She gently cupped (Y/N)'s cheeks. (Y/N) tensed, unsure of what to do. Mrs. Catton didn't seem to notice, or if she did she didn't let on.

"Honey, you didn't tell us how beautiful she was," Mrs. Catton said to her son.

"You never believe me," Felix retorted.

Mrs. Catton turned back to (Y/N). "Welcome, darling. We're very happy to have you here. You can call me Lady Elspeth." She took (Y/N)'s hands and squeezed them, then gestured towards the table. "We left a seat free next to Felix for you. Come, sit. Dinner will be served soon."

(Y/N) quickly moved to the table, oping to no longer be the center of attention. Felix was still smiling at her as she sat down next to him.

"You do look beautiful," he said.

Her face started heating up. "Thank you."

Across from them, a throat cleared. Felix glanced up at his cousin. (Y/N) didn't miss the subtle change in Felix's expression. "(Y/N), this is my cousin, Farleigh, and my sister, Venetia."

"Oh, I know Farleigh," she said, looking over at the other young man. He gave her an obviously forced smile. "I-I mean, I know of Farleigh. I've seen you around on campus."

"Weird that I haven't seen you. It's not like Felix to hide his friends away," Farleigh said.

"I wasn't hiding her away." Felix's face was tense. (Y/N) wondered what the story between him and Farleigh was. They seemed to get along well on campus, or at least Farleigh was in Felix's friend group.

Dinner was served, thus breaking up the tense moment. A plate was placed in front of everyone and they all began to eat. (Y/N) tried not to draw too much attention to herself, but she knew her presence alone was drawing attention. Both Farleigh and Venetia weren't very subtle with the way they were staring at her.

"So, (Y/N)," Elspeth said after a few moments of silence, "what is it you're studying at Oxford?"

"English," (Y/N) responded. "I'd like to be a writer when I graduate, but I know that's not an entirely realistic dream so I'm aiming to be an English teacher as a backup."

"Oh, writing! That's wonderful, darling!" Elspeth said. (Y/N) was somewhat shocked that Elspeth seemed genuine with her interest. "Have you written anything yet?"

"A few short stories." She shrugged. "Nothing major."

"'Nothing major'?" Felix questioned. "She's won contests with her short stories! Remember, you told me one of your stories was published in an anthology of short stories when you were still in high school?"

Elspeth and Felix's dad, Sir James, were impressed, while (Y/N) was surprised that Felix had remembered her telling him that. He was smiling down at her in pride and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Is that how you got your scholarship?" Farleigh asked. The look on his face told (Y/N) that his question wasn't as genuine as Elspeth's had been.

"Farleigh," Felix sneered.

"What? I was just asking. It's not like it's a secret that she's a scholarship kid. There's no shame in needing some financial help."

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Boys," James said, his voice stern in warning.

Dinner fell quiet after that. (Y/N) pushed her food around her plate, suddenly no longer hungry. She was back to wishing she could melt away into the floor and never be seen again. Maybe it wasn't too late to just go back to the school and stay in the dorms alone for the summer.

Once she had finished eating, she politely excused herself and went back to her room. She had paid enough attention when Duncan showed her to the dining room that she made it back with no issue. The minute the door closed behind her, she let out a sigh. A lump had started to form in her throat, but she was refusing to let herself cry. Even now while she was alone, she didn't want to give in to these feelings. She had to be strong, at least until she could get her things together and figure out a way back to the school.

As Felix had told her, the butlers had unpacked her bag while she was at dinner. It took her a moment to find her pajamas and makeup remover. She pulled on an oversized shirt she had packed to wear on the warm nights and was leaned over the dresser to start taking off her makeup, the shirt riding up just enough, when the door connecting her and Felix suddenly opened. Felix walked in, still in his suit from dinner, except he had removed his tie and the top few buttons had been undone. (Y/N) quickly stood up straight, pulling her shirt down to cover her ass.

"Don't you knock?" she asked.

"No, why would I?" he said.

"What if I was changing?"

"You weren't."

She rolled her eyes and went back to taking her makeup off, this time more cautious about how much of her was being exposed with Felix in the room.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about how Farleigh acted during dinner," Felix said.

(Y/N) paused for a moment. She glanced at Felix through the mirror. He was looking up at her with an expression that told her his apology was genuine.

"It's alright," she said.

"No, it wasn't alright. He shouldn't be saying those things about you. It's not like he's much different. My parents have financially supported him for years and let him stay here for free. At least you earned your scholarship, he only got his way in life because of his family."

"So did you, though." There was a beat, and (Y/N) quickly turned to face Felix. "Wait, I didn't mean - "

"No, you're right," he cut her off. "My parents have financially helped me, too. You're the only one among us who has really earned your spot at Oxford. It's not fair of Farleigh to try and make you feel small because you come from a different background."

(Y/N) wanted to tell him it wasn't just Farleigh, it was everyone at Oxford. Even Felix's own friend group had shunned (Y/N) when he introduced her to them. It felt like Felix was the only one who truly wanted to befriend (Y/N).

"You don't have to apologize for him," she said instead. "But I appreciate that you'd want to."

"You're my friend. I didn't bring you here to be insulted by my obnoxious cousin, I brought you here because I wanted you to spend the summer with us."

Friend.

Even though she knew that's all they were, it still stung to hear him say it. She wanted so much more than that, but it was wishful thinking to believe that Felix cause ever want more than that.

"I...I think I'm gonna just...get in bed."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's still only early."

"I know. All the travel just has me feeling pretty worn out."

"Okay."

He stood and (Y/N) expected him to go back to his room. When he started to unbutton his shirt more, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"What are you doing?!"

"I was going to stay over here tonight. If you were okay with that, that is."

"You're supposed to ask these things before you just start undressing."

Felix chuckled as (Y/N) turned her back to him. "You really don't want to watch as I undress?"

Of course I want to watch! "I'm just...trying to be courteous."

He laughed again. (Y/N) could hear the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. She wondered why he hadn't at least gone back to his room to get a pair of pajamas. At least pajama pants. She was starting to get the feeling that at home, Felix didn't have to ask many questions, and that also extended towards his guests.

"Okay, I am covered."

When she turned back, he was under the covers of her bed, his hands behind his head so she could see that he was at least shirtless under there.

"The bed is big enough for us to share," he said, reading the shocked look on her face. "That is, again, if you don't mind."

"N-No. I-I guess that's fine."

(Y/N) crawled into bed next to Felix. She tried to put as much distance between the two of them as she could but, despite what Felix said, the bed certainly was not that big. She could still feel the heat from his body as she turned onto her side, her back to him. She could feel his nearness. And she could feel the fact that he was only wearing his boxers.

"You don't have to stay, you know," she said. "I'm not going to slip away during the night or something."

He bed shook a little as he laughed. "I know. I just wanted to stay over here. At the very least, I want to make sure you don't have any issues sleeping. I always find I struggle when I'm trying to sleep in a new place."

(Y/N) rolled onto her other side so that she could face Felix. The full moon was shining through the window, illuminating his face. He turned his head to look down at her.

"I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Felix," she said, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.

He smiled. "Get some sleep, (Y/N). I don't intend on having a boring day tomorrow if the weather is nice."

~~~~~~

When (Y/N) woke up the next morning, she completely forgot where she was. The bed was far too soft to be the one in her dorm at Oxford, and it was certainly too hot to be just a normal day during the schooling semester.

Not to mention the fact that there was a body laying under her.

(Y/N)'s eyes snapped open as she realized her head was resting on Felix's chest, and his arm around wrapped around her. At some point in the night, they must've shifted so that they were cuddling. (Y/N) wasn't sure if she should pull away or stay where she was. What would Felix's reaction be when he woke up and found them both in such a compromising position?

A knock came at her door. "Miss. (Y/N)?"

It was Duncan's voice. Now she was definitely panicking.

"Just checking if you're awake," he added.

"Uh...yeah! I am Duncan!" she called back.

"Breakfast is being served in ten minutes. Do wake up master Felix and let him know as well. His mother will want him to punctual since she didn't get as much time with him last night."

Her face burned. She wondered if Duncan knew Felix was in here with her, or if he meant for her to go over to Felix's room to wake him.

The sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway told her that Duncan had walked away. She let out a breath, relaxing into Felix's side yet again. She felt him move beneath her and she quickly pulled out of his arms before he started to wake up.

She was shocked at how beautiful he looked in the morning. The same perfect beauty he had when he fell asleep. Not a single hair out of place, no drool on his lips, no sleepy gunk in his eyes. It was really unfair just how perfect he really was.

His eyes slowly blinked open and he smiled when he saw (Y/N) looking down at him. "Good morning."

"Morning," she said. "Uh, Duncan was just here. He said breakfast is in ten minutes."

Felix groaned. "I don't want to get up yet. Why does mum have to have breakfast so early?"

(Y/N) looked at the clock hung on the wall. "It's almost 10am."

"Far too early to wake up in the summer."

She couldn't help but chuckle a little. Felix stretched his arms out and sat up as well. His face was suddenly very close to hers, almost too close.

"I suppose I should get ready for breakfast then," he said.

"Is there any dress code for breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Not for breakfast, but the dress code for today's events is a bathing suit. Once we finish eating, I'm taking you down to the lake."

~~~~~~

A few hours later, (Y/N) was following Felix towards the lake next to his house. It was a scorching hot day outside. One that was definitely better spent in the cooling water instead of cooped up inside.

Farleigh and Venetia were already by the lake. Farleigh was laid back on a towel, reading some book, while Venetia was sat by the lake with her feet in the water. She looked over her shoulder as she heard the two approach and smiled.

"Well, here they are!" she announced. "Finally you're here."

"Pull up a towel," Farleigh said, not looking up from his book.

(Y/N) went to sit on the grass, but Venetia called, "Not you! You're joining me down here. I've been surrounded by this testosterone for far too long."

She wasn't about to argue. She was already coated in sweat just from walking down from the house. (Y/N) sat beside Venetia and placed her feet in the water. The sudden cold was like a shock to her system, but definitely a welcome one.

"So, (Y/N)," Venetia said, "tell me, how did you and my brother meet?"

"We were in class together," (Y/N) responded. "I helped him with an assigned reading he had trouble with."

"Saved my ass from failing that surprise test the professor gave us," Felix added.

"It wasn't a surprise, he told us about it the class before," (Y/N) said.

"I wasn't there that class, so it was a surprise to me."

"Was that the day you were too hungover after a dorm party on a Sunday night?" Farleigh asked.

"A Sunday?!" (Y/N) laughed.

"It was a surprise party for one of my friends in the dorm," Felix responded. "He had gone home for the weekend so we had to have the party that Sunday. I didn't plan to get fucked up that night."

"You never do," Farleigh commented.

"What about your family, (Y/N)?" Venetia interrupted. "Are they okay with you spending your summer with a load of strangers?"

Felix opened his mouth to deter his sister from asking, but (Y/N) cut him off by saying, "My parents are dead."

A silence fell over them. Venetia looked a mixture of horrified and sad. Farleigh lowered his book to look over at (Y/N). Felix was trying not to look at any of them while (Y/N) was fixing her attention on the water in front of her. She was running her feet back and forth, disrupting the otherwise calm water.

"They died when I was ten," she continued. "Car accident, drunk driver. I've lived with my grandparents since then, but my grandpa died a year ago and my gran is starting to develop dementia. When I got accepted into Oxford, I made a deal with the Dean that I could stay on campus during the summers until I could afford my own place."

Venetia looked like she was about to cry. (Y/N) suddenly wished she had lied and made up some story about her parents.

"Way to ruin the moon, V," Farleigh commented.

"I didn't know!" Venetia retorted.

"No, it's fine," (Y/N) cut off their bickering. "It's tough, but I've had years to come to terms with all the death, and gran is in a nursing home now so she's being taken care of. I don't want anyone to tip toe around me like I'm made of glass."

As if to make her point, (Y/N) pushed off the edge of the lake and into the water. She shrieked as the cold engulfed her. Venetia followed suit, and soon enough both of them had convinced Farleigh and Felix to get into the water as well. The conversation was long forgotten as they swam around, splashing one another as if they were children.

~~~~~~

That night, (Y/N) was sat in the garden underneath her bedroom window. With the sun gone down, the air had cooled off, but only slightly. The room was still too stuffy for her, and opening the window just made it worse, so she opted to sit out in the cool air before she tried to sleep again.

Footsteps approached and she expected it to be Felix. When she turned, she was surprised to see Venetia instead, dressed in a sheer nightgown and carrying a lit cigarette between her fingers.

"Mind if I sit?" Venetia asked.

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that, considering it's your house."

Venetia chuckled and sat next to her.

(Y/N)'s first impression of Venetia had been wrong, and she was kind of glad it had been. She thought that, like Farleigh, Venetia was also going to be a little catty and condescending towards her. But after their day by the lake, she felt a sort of kinship with Venetia. They were the only two young girls at Saltburn, they had to look out for one another at the very least.

"So, how are you enjoying your stay so far?" Venetia asked.

"It's lovely here," (Y/N) said. "Much better than spending the summer at the Oxford campus along. At least there's a lot of the house to explore, and at least two people who seem to want me here."

"Three, if you count mum. She's ecstatic to have you. If you're not careful, she might just try and adopt you."

"I wouldn't complain."

Venetia took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "And, um...has Felix been treating you well?"

(Y/N) looked over at her with confusion. "I'd...say more than well. Why?"

"I just..." Venetia leaned over, resting her arms against her legs. "I'm not saying this to try and scare you or anything. I truly like you, (Y/N), and I just want to warn you because I know how my brother is. He often takes someone who is a little more...damaged than him under his wing and brings them back here for a few months. But once the summer ends, or once he's lost interest, he casts them aside for whatever new shiny toy catches his attention."

Venetia's words hit (Y/N) like a ton of bricks. She had been telling herself for months since meeting Felix that their friendship was too good to be true, that he was going to realize he was making a mistake and move on. But when he didn't, when he asked her back to his house for the summer, she thought that maybe she was wrong. Maybe he actually did care for her and wanted to be friends with her. She had a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe this summer would bring them closer together, that they could become more than just friends.

If anyone would know how Felix was, it would be Venetia. She was his sister. She had seen a lifetime of the way Felix acted with friends. If she was warning her of the possibility that Felix might toss her aside once the summer ended, then she felt inclined to believe Venetia.

"Again, I'm not telling you this as a way to make you upset," Venetia added. "Trust me, I want nothing more than for you to stay with us for the summer. I just really do not want you to get hurt if that's what happens with Felix."

Tears were forming in (Y/N)'s eyes again. She was having a harder time at fighting them than the night before after all Farleigh had said to her. She quickly stood and murmured a "goodnight" to Venetia before rushing back inside the house. She got to her bedroom just in time for the tears to start falling.

Stupid! You're so stupid for thinking you belonged here in his world. You're nothing more than a charity case for him!

(Y/N) sunk to the floor and buried her head in her hands. She cried and cried until the tears dried up and she was essentially dry sobbing. Her eyes felt heavy and her body was aching from being on the floor for so long. She just wanted to go to back to the school and pretend this entire trip never happened.

When she finally coaxed herself to stand, (Y/N) went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before bed. She looked at herself in the mirror and winced. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks were flush, and there were tear stains on her cheeks from crying. She grabbed a face cloth and wet it down with warm water. Before she could start wiping her face, the door leading to Felix's room opened. She froze, the wet cloth in her hands.

"Hey," Felix said. She thought for a moment that he hadn't noticed her state, until suddenly he was beside her. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, wincing again at the sound of her horse voice.

"You don't look or sound fine."

She began to wipe her face, trying to ignore Felix's presence. As she rinsed the face cloth again, she said, "I think I'm going to call the Dean tomorrow to ask if my room is still available at the school, then look into getting the next train back to Oxford as soon as possible."

"What? Why? I thought you wanted to stay."

(Y/N) shook her head. "I don't belong here, Felix. This is your world, not mine. I'm just the girl with dead parents and a scholarship, struggling to figure out how or if I'll ever be financially stable enough to live on my own once the school kicks me out."

"What did Farleigh say to you?"

"It wasn't Farleigh!" she snapped, finally turning to face him. "It was Venetia! She told me that you don't let people stick around for long. That you take in the charity cases and toss them aside when you're bored. And I knew that's what was happening with me, I knew there was no way you could possibly want to be friends with me, but I was also stupid enough to let myself believe that maybe it was all real. That maybe you actually cared and you actually wanted me here!"

She was crying again. She must've looked and sounded insane. She wished she had never accepted Felix's offer to come here. She could only imagine what he would say about her when she left the next day.

"I'm not staying here and waiting to be hurt, Felix," she said. "You may think it's fun to toy with people's emotions, but I don't. Not when I trusted you in telling you about my parents, about my stories, about my sad little poor life."

She had more to say, although she wasn't sure if any of it would've made sense, but Felix cut her off before she could. He took hold of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It surprised her at first and she pulled away almost immediately. He looked down at her, worried, like he was scared he had just crossed a line. When her brain finally caught up to what was happening, she quickly leaned back in to kiss him again.

Her hands held on to his shirt while one of his still cupped her face and the other started to move down her body. With one quick movement, he had lifted her up onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands moved to tangle into his hair. His tongue moved across her bottom lip, silently asking for entrance to her mouth. She realized he was commando under his pajama pants when she felt him pressed against her, the only layer between being her panties as she was once again in the oversized shirt she had worn the night before.

Felix broke away first. She tried to follow him, but he held her back, a playful grin on his face.

"I don't want you to go," he said. "I want you here. Not just for this summer, but every summer from now on. I want you in my dorm room back at school, and eventually in my own place when we finish with school. I want you, (Y/N). You're not some toy to me."

"How long have you felt like this?" she asked.

"Since before I spoke to you in class that first day."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I kept chickening out. Every girl I've been with has only wanted me for my money, or my looks, or both. No one has ever really cared for me as a person. When you did, it almost intimidated me. I needed to know for sure you'd be here for the long run, so I brought you home to see how you'd react to everything."

"Am I passing the test?"

He chuckled and kissed her again. "With flying colors."

She couldn't get enough of him; of his lips, his smile, his body against hers, his hands on her. She wanted all of him all the time. She suddenly never wanted to leave either of their rooms for the rest of the summer.

"You can still go back to school if you feel uncomfortable here. I wouldn't blame you there," he said. "But if you're going back, I'm coming with you."

She shook her head. "I couldn't take you away from your family."

"Then stay. I want you to be here, too. I want to be with you."

She grinned cheekily back at him. "If you're going to beg, you should be on your knees at least."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "If that's what you want."

She wanted all of him all the time, but she decided not to say that just yet. She was still a little cautious. She had to make sure Felix meant what he was saying, even if she felt deep down that he was. He needed to prove himself to her before she opened up that much to him.

But for now, she would definitely take the sight of him on his knees, his face between her legs as his hands pushed the shirt up around her hips.

[rafesbangs]

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!pogue!reader

summary: ♪ am i making you feel sick ♫ - you and rafe get into a heated argument at a party because he starts brushing you off when you try to talk to him:( angst.

warnings: heavy drinking, strong language, strong themes, classism, drugs, yelling, insecurities, arguing, mention of cheating, toxic relationship.

a/n: omg hello my first story on my blog and its angst LOL. mb its like 2am and im listening to ethel cain soooo enjoy (?)

you were sitting quite comfortably on the end of the couch, watching your boyfriend laugh and talk loudly with his friends, scooping a little bit of coke out of a baggy sitting on the glass coffee table in front of you every so often. were you impartial to his coke addiction? no. but did you want to get in another shit fight about how worried you are and how much rafe doesn't care because he's 'fine' ? also hell no. so you sit there, looking pretty, minding your own business.

rafe shifts to the edge of the couch, leaning towards his dickhead friends as he tells them a story of how he ate shit on his motorbike the other day - funny - you instinctively reach your arm out and gently caress his bicep as he gets to the particularly 'funny' part of the story, where he explains how he was thrown a few feet but got out of the situation 'with only a few scratches.' in the split second that your hand makes contact with his arm, his eyes dart to your hand in his peripheral and he immediately yanks his arm away without missing a beat.

you pause, arm still lingering in the air from where it once was and a pang of hurt strikes in your chest. kelce and topper noticed as it happened and silently scoffed to themselves, but continue listening to your boyfriend talk. you squirm in your seat, now feeling more and more self-conscious about your position at this random kook party.

after a little while, you decide that he probably just wasn't thinking or got distracted trying to tell the story, that he didn't mean it. so once again, rafe was now leaning back into the couch man spreading (of course), you decide to casually rest your closest hand on the top of one of his thighs. the way that he usually did around guys wherever the two of you would go, all protective, though he hadn't done it once at this party all night.

your hand sits there for a few seconds this time but now you notice rafe's head turn towards you, and you look right into his eyes before he flashes you this halfway disgusted and irritated look, before he once again swats your hand off of him.

now you were upset. it was clearly on purpose. both times. so you tap your foot for a second, weighing your options. your situation was a bit shit, boyfriend is deciding to be an ass towards you in front of his judgey kook friends, and you have no way of getting home that wouldn't be like a three hour walk alone in the dark. you roll your eyes at him, though he isn't even looking at you, and get up quickly before walking off in another direction.

you don't even know where you're going, its dark, the figure eight mansion is packed full of random people and you have never been here before. somehow you find yourself in a second kitchen on another level of the house, its a lot more quiet and there are a small group of people playing pool so you decide to watch the game.

"hey, do you play?" a deep voice asks, you turn around, pretty startled having not been talked to by anyone all night.

"oh- hi, er- no i'm pretty bad at pool, i've only played it once when i was drunk" you reply awkwardly. you couldn't recognise the guy, but he was definitely a kook, must not be someone rafe knows because you thought you knew just about everyone on figure eight because of your king kook boyfriend.

the deep voice laughs a little before looking at the pool table, the current game is almost at an end, only two balls left to sink, "i could teach you? if you wanted to be on my team maybe?"

you nervously laugh and glance at the pool table before looking around instinctively for rafe, obviously you realise he's too busy being an asshole to care where you are right now, nor who you're talking to.

"honestly i think i'm a hopeless case, but thanks for the offer... er, you wouldn't happen to know anyone sober that would offer a ride home?" you hesitantly ask, realising you were way too tired to deal with anything or anyone for the rest of the night.

"uh, yeah i do actually, i haven't had a lick of anything the whole night" he admits, lips pursed together as if he's embarrassed by it.

your eyes widen a little, you weren't an idiot, you weren't the type to just get into anyone's car and drive off without telling someone where you're going... but you were desperate for a ride home and the guy in front of you had kind of a nerdy look to him. not really the kidnapping type, you concluded.

"oh, guess i'm pretty lucky i can't play pool then" you laughed a little.

he shrugged and glanced at the pool table before looking back at you, "guess so, so was that a yes to the ride home?"

you nodded politely and he said something about heading down to the front yard where he'd parked. you followed close behind him as the two of you made your way back through the mansion and the crowds of drunk kooks.

finally you were standing outside, watching as the pool table guy walked towards a range rover when suddenly you feel a harsh grip on your arm as you're forcefully turned around.

"rafe- ow what the fuck!" you exclaim, tearing your arm from his bruising grip. he threw back the rest of whatever he was drinking before scoffing at the sight in front of him, pool table guy now standing at his car with his arms folded as you stood between them.

"where the fuck do you think you're going with him? huh??" he shook his head, "think your trashy pogue ass can just cheat on me at a party that i invited you to??"

"cheat?? what rafe-" you began, but his yelling cut you off again.

he narrowed his eyes at you and back at pool table guy who was now walking closer to cut in himself, "fucking ridiculous, this is what i get for dating a fucking pogue. i can't believe you y/n."

you were fighting back tears at this point, but felt the burning hot rage rise inside you like a volcano, and you erupted.

"how fucking dare you accuse me of cheating rafe cameron! you know i would never fucking cheat on you! i left you at that table with your buddies to do coke all you pleased because you kept fucking swatting me away like i was some desperate stranger!"

his eyes widened at your outburst, you two had been in yelling matches before but the way you were giving him a tongue lashing now was something he'd never experienced before.

"this guy was nice enough to let me know i can actually get a fucking ride home because i was just stranded somewhere random in this fucking mansion! and you don't even care to fucking look for me until i catch your eye because you think im cheating rafe?? why do you care if im cheating anyway. im just a 'dirty fucking pogue.' am i making you feel sick rafe? can you just so not believe that you ever slept with a pogue!"

"y/n, i didn't mean all that- fuck! god, look what you've gone and made me say" he yelled, now directing his anger to the pool table guy.

he just shrugged, "dude you left her to wonder around, can't be surprised when another guy tries to get in her pants... pogue or not, she's hot"

you could see the gears turn in rafe's head before he finally attempts to lunge at the pool table guy, thank fully you put your entire body weight into pushing rafe back and even though you weren't really doing much, pool table guy was already driving out halfway out the mansion's gates.

rafe finally straightens up and then looks at you wordlessly, you take the opportunity to speak again, "don't ever fucking treat me like that again rafe. i'm too tired to have this conversation right now, we're going back to yours. i want to sleep."

still breathing heavily, he looks up past you before making eye contact with you again, "okay."

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[marksbear2]

WILL GRAHAM X MALE READER

This is pure fluff and that’s something rare on this blog since I usually write smutt. But since I love this man sm he gets special treatment.

⚠️Warnings- fluff, healthy relationships, mentions marriage and starting a family. And etc.⚠️

— Likes to keep a picture of you in his wallet. He would give it a quick glance before heading into a case. Your picture is his little good luck charm.

— He wouldn't keep you a secret, but isn't open about it. For example he wouldn't talk about you for hours to someone (only with his dogs he does.) but if someone asked if he had a s/o he would tell them about you straight up.

— He still is very shy about asking you out on dates even though you two have been dating for a while.

— Mandatory fishing trips together.

— He most def wouldn't tell Hannibal about you. He wants you to stay the hell away from him.

— Probably tells you about the cases hes working on. Even if he isn't supposed to tell someone he'll tell you without hesitation if you asked.

— You being there when he's sleepwalking every step of the way. Even having to wake him up a few times.

— You and him sleeping together makes him fall asleep faster. To the point he can't sleep without you.

— He would like to vent to you if you let him. He'll just vent to you while cuddling with one of the dogs while you sit next to him and listen. After he's done and realizes what he'd done he'll feel embarrassed, but he trusts you even more.

— Jack coming to Will's house unexpectedly and opening the door and walks inside. "Will! I got-" Jack trails off looking down at you two play wrestler with the dogs. "Never mind." Jack says before leaving the house going back to his car.

— Likes to call you something traditional or something sweet. Like hun/honey, love,sugar, idiot or sometimes even bug. He didn't know where bug came from one day he called you it and never let it go. He means the pretty bugs y'know.

— He prefers holding hands rather than anything sexual.

— Walks around his property with the dogs.

— Late night conversations.

— Begins to tell you more about Hannibal as the days go by. Like what him and Hannibal were talking about and etc.

— Long warm hugs after he comes back home from work. Just standing in the middle of the doorway hugging each other in loving silence. Just silently reassuring each other.

— Him letting you play and style his hair. It helps him relax when you do it, so he asks you to do it more often.

— Constantly reassuring him that you love him because he's an insecure mess and overthinks a lot. Like you don't love him or you're just using him.

— Him smiling to himself just at the thought of you or the mention of your name.

— Drinking coffee together at the front porch in early in the morning just enjoying the others company.

— Him waking you up after he has a nightmare. He curls up in your chest holding onto your clothes tightly as you cradle him in your lap kissing the top of his head. "I'm here Will. Don't worry baby i'm right here."

— Him having nightmares about losing you to the point he tells Hannibal about you and his fear of losing you, because he couldn't keep it to himself anymore.

— Will refusing the offer to let you two meet over dinner. Like he shot down the proposal so fast.

— Ms Lounds trying to get you to speak about Will. Like trying to make you spill all the bad things you know about him. And you just give her the bird and walk away.

— You two probably getting married either in the forest or by a dock.

— I think he's fine with the dogs, but if he ever wants to start a real family he'll want like two daughters and one boy.

— He side eyes you whenever he thinks your being weird or something. And he’ll give you the silent treatment after a long argument.

THE END

[barcaatthemoon]

my best girl || georgia stanway x reader ||

georgia comforts you when social media comments get to be too much for you.

there had never been a backup plan for you. football was your life, and it always had been. you'd been at the bottom of all your classes in school, and for the longest time you had no clue why. your parents had berated you for being stupid, and it wasn't until you signed to the manchester city developmental program that someone finally figured out why it was all so hard for you.

it should have come as a relief that you were dyslexic, but instead, you hid it away. your parents words about you being stupid still echoed around in the back of your head. and as your career blossomed and grew, more and more fans began to notice. at first, it was a small comment here and there about a misspelled word in a caption, and then you and georgia began openly dating.

the so-called fans started getting nasty with you. each comment under your posts was a reminder that your parents were right, you were an absolute idiot. georgia deserved someone who could spell simple words and write in complete sentences without having to repeat their words out loud. it wasn't fair for her, and maybe if you broke things off, you wouldn't deal with so much of the hate.

you flew all the way from manchester to munich with the intention of breaking things off. georgia loved the impromptu visit, but of course, she could tell something was up. she knew about some of the comments, but not the private messages. it was nothing crazy like death threats, but to have hundreds of strangers calling you horrible things did a lot to the psyche.

"are you okay love?" things had been quiet. you'd been over for three days, and georgia could tell that you were depressed again. usually, you loved exploring germany with georgia. there were spots that some of her teammates had told the two of you about that georgia knew you usually would have been all over. "can we talk about it?"

"i really don't want to," you said with a sniffle. georgia tilted your head up so that you were looking at her. there were tears in your eyes, and georgia hated that she let this go on for so long. "i don't think i'll be coming back to germany again. i think it's time that we end this."

"is that what you want?" georgia asked calmly. the two of you had taken a break when she transferred, and georgia had been absolutely miserable. in her mind, that was the biggest mistake that she had made in a long time. she loved you unlike she had ever loved anybody else.

"no, but i can't take it anymore. nobody cared about me when we weren't together. i was just a reserve player, but now i'm your girlfriend and people know that. they know that you deserve someone better," you said. georgia scoffed quietly as she sat up, causing you to also have to sit up on the couch. "i'm not good enough for you."

"why not?" georgia crossed her arms over her chest. your insecurities had been bad before, but never to the point where you wanted to break up with her. if anything, georgia had hoped that she loved you enough to help you love yourself a little more.

"because i'm an ugly idiot who can't make the starting xi to save my life. i'm a waste of space, and why keep me around when we both know you've got options, g." you threw your arms up as you began ranting. georgia carefully moved in and pulled your arms down to your sides. "i don't understand why you love me."

"because you're the best person i've ever met. nobody is going to be perfect, but i think that you're perfect for me. you're kind and caring to everybody, even our opponents. you have a smile that brightens every room that we're in together. you're so smart, but you don't realize it. if you have the chance to make someone feel better about themselves, you take it without hesitation. just because some strangers on the internet say some bullshit, doesn't make it true. listen to me, listen to everybody who has taken the time to get to know and love you. let us help you feel the way we feel about you."

"you're not letting go of me, are you?" you asked as you started to relax in georgia's hold.

"not in the way that counts," georgia promised you.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Promises

Summary: When you wake up to find your house quiet, your first reaction is panic. But after you find Javi and learn what he has planned for you this morning, your mood becomes a whole lot better.

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K (Y'all I wrote this in like a few hours I was feeling some typa way)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do this pls but also they want another baby), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving) creampie, cum play (ig??), praise kink, the biggest, fattest, nastiest breeding kink (... Don't look at me), ass slapping (but affectionately), mentions of body insecurity post pregnancy, Javi being the biggest menace of all time (this man has a MOUTH on him, lawd have mercy), Javi being the best husband and literally being so in love, it's honestly sickening, Chucho patiently waiting for his next grandchild 9 months from now LMAO

A/N: ... Hey... I'm gonna need all of you to not look at me for the next 7-10 business days after this one.... I'm not sure what's in the water over here, but uh... Yeah. I'll leave it at that. Thanks to @endlessthxxghts for letting me share my horny thots about our favorite dad, sorry for waking up on the feral side of the bed this morning 🥴

Part of the Forever and Always Series!

It was quiet. 

Way too quiet. 

You couldn’t remember a time in the past 5 years where you had woken up to the house being so silent. 

No TV, no commotion, no little squeals and giggles from your girls waiting impatiently for you to get up and out of bed, and if you weren’t already confused enough, you rolled over to be greeted by the empty space where your husband should have been, the usual warmth left radiating after he had gotten out of bed before you long gone. 

But the real kicker was that when you turned back over again to peek at the flashing numbers of your alarm clock, your eyes went wide at a number that you hadn’t seen since well before kids. 

10:39 A.M. 

“Jesus Christ…” You whispered to yourself, frantically rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and tossing the comforter off of your body before scrambling out of bed in distress, as your brain pieced together the worst sort of panicked puzzle as to why it was so late, so quiet, and Javi was nowhere to be found. 

You pushed open the bedroom door, peeking into the hallway, just as ghostly and empty as you had suspected, each of your daughter’s bedroom doors wide open with neither of them in sight.  Rushing back down the hall towards your stairs before stopping in front of Javi’s office, you paused your search at the sound of familiar, muffled humming coming from behind the door. 

Pushing it open, you were shocked to see the image of your husband sitting at his desk, leaning back in his seat with a book in his hand and feet propped up against the wooden surface, quietly humming to himself as he turned a page, seeming completely unbothered by his solitude. As the door creaked open further, it caught Javi’s attention, peeking up from over his book with a smile on his face as he dogeared his current page, pushing himself out of his chair to walk towards you. 

“Wow, look who’s up! I was gonna give you ‘til 11:00 before I really started to get worried. How’d you sleep, Hermosa?” He cooed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in for a hug, pressing a soft kiss into the sleepy tangles of your hair, gently cupping your face and forcing your worried gaze up towards him. 

“Javi, what’s- what’s going on? Where are the girls? Is everything ok-” Before you could finish the rest of your thought, Javi’s lips were pressed against yours, the familiar bitterness of black coffee and minty gum still lingering in his mouth as he caught the rest of your sentence with his kiss, the hand cupping your cheek now letting his thumb swipe gently across your soft skin. 

“Relájete, mi amor (relax, my love)” Javi laughed, pressing another kiss onto your forehead, smiling down at you, “I know how tired you’ve been the past couple of weeks, and rightfully so. You take such good care of our girls- you are the most incredible mom to them, but it’s only fair that you deserve a break every once and a while, too. So,” he smirked, tightening his grip around your waist, letting his hand creep slowly towards your ass, “I asked my dad last night if I could drop Lucy and Elliot off with him this morning so we could have a day just the two of us. He’s more than happy to keep ‘em for as long as we want, so I figured I'd take him up on the offer and I can get some time alone with my beautiful wife to help her relax and show her how much I appreciate her.” 

You could the anxiety and worry instantly wash away from your body, the fear that had been consuming you since you had woken up now replaced by excited butterflies swirling in your stomach, heat creeping through your cheeks as you smiled back up at him, tears welling in your eyes in appreciation for how goddamn lucky you were to have someone who cared about you as much as Javi did. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, biting at the inside of your lip to try and keep yourself from crying, Javi immediately tilting your chin up towards him in response, softly swiping away the wetness pooling in your eyes. 

“Hermosa…” He cooed, looking you up and down with an empathetic smirk, brushing a stray piece of hair from your bed head out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, “It’s the least I could do. Now, why don’t you go get back into bed. I picked up a breakfast sandwich and coffee for you from Leo’s on the way back from Pop’s place, figured you might be hungry, considering you slept until almost lunch time. And after you finish eating,” He rasped, leaning his head down to nip at your neck, the hot words of his breath dancing against your skin, the shift in his tone instantly sparking a fire in your core, “I think I might be feeling hungry, too.” 

“You are a menace, I hope you know that.” You sighed, trying with every ounce in you to keep your composure, the tickle from Javi’s mustache at least providing some relief from the tension as you burst out into giggles, Javi playing along by digging his fingers into your hips, running his hands along your sides until you had exploded into a fit of laughter, flailing and squirming in his broad grasp. “Stop it, you meanie! You can’t just promise me food and sex and then hold me hostage like this!” 

Finally releasing you, Javi grabbed your face to pull you in for another kiss, this one slow and tender, an electric energy pulsing between the two of you as your lips brushed against one another, only pulling away after Javi’s hand planted a loving smack on your ass, making you squeal in surprise. 

“Go get your ass back in bed, Osita. I’ll be back in a second with breakfast.” 

“Okay.” You giggled, turning back on your heels out the door, but not before turning back around to peek your head through the doorway with a sneaky grin on your face. “And you’ll also be back with sex?” 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” 

As you jumped back into bed, tucking yourself back into your sheets, it wasn’t long before Javi was back in your room with the first part of his promised bargain- Your favorite breakfast sandwich and an extra large coffee, grinning in delight as he passed both over to you before settling next to you, wrapping your arm around your shoulder as you demolished the better part of your food. 

“Oh my god, I haven’t had one of these in so long. God, I love you so much.” You sighed, taking another bite of your breakfast as Javi laughed at the ferocity at which your sandwich had disappeared. “I bet the image of this is really doing a lot turn you on for the second half of your promise. If I would have known, I would have at least put on cuter pajamas.” You snickered, gesturing down to your nearly finished food and Javi’s worn, oversized shirt and boxers you still had draped over your body. 

“Shut up. You know I think you look sexy in anything. I love seeing you in my clothes. Drives me fucking crazy. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.” Javi smirked, rubbing his hand along your thigh, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin. 

“You just like it when I don’t wear a bra.” You snorted, rolling your eyes at Javi as you crumpled up the wrapper of your finished sandwich, setting it on your nightstand before rolling over to rest your head on Javi’s chest, draping one of your arms across his stomach. “You’re sweet, Jav. Sexy in anything seems like a bit of a stretch, there’s about half my closest I refuse to make eye contact with after having Elliot.”

You let out a quiet sigh, trying to hide the frown pursed between your lips, thinking about how much your body had changed since the first time you had ever worn Javi’s clothes all those years ago. Two kids and lots of time later, you couldn’t help feel a little self conscious about how different you looked from when the two of you had first met. And even though Javi said it to you all the time, it was much easier said than done to always believe it yourself. 

“Hey…” Javi replied softly, looking down at you with a frown on his own face, “Osita, you know I’m being serious, right?” 

“Well, you’re my husband, you kind of have to be.” You huffed, half forcing your laughter as you immediately began to feel yourself become more and more conscious of your weight laying on top of him, almost trying to shift yourself away before Javi’s hand was wrapped around your back, pulling you over to lay completely on top of him and forcing you to look at his serious expression. 

“Out of all the women in the world, you are the only one I ever want. You are just as beautiful, if not even more beautiful than the day I first met you, you know why? Because your beautiful body that I love every fucking inch of has grown and carried our daughters. You’ve made me a dad, you’ve given us a family, you are the most incredible wife and mom I could ever imagine. Baby, if that’s not the fucking sexiest thing, then I don’t know what to tell you.” You could feel the warmth blooming in your chest as Javi looked up at you with his sweet brown eyes, his hands roaming down the sides of your body until his fingers were digging into your hips and ass, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. “Promise me.” 

“Promise you what?” You whispered, an ache beginning to grow between your legs as you could feel Javi’s bulge hardening beneath you, his hands roaming relentlessly around your body, making it hard for you to even think straight. 

“Promise me,” He paused, nipping at your neck, the bridge of his nose dragging along the side of your face until his mouth was ghosting over your ear, his words dancing against your skin, “Promise me that you believe me. That I think that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. That I know you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. That I love your body so fucking much, that I wanna put another baby into it.”  

His last sentence had your heart literally skipping a beat, a quiet moan escaping from your lips as Javi carefully rolled your body off of his, flipping you onto your back and caging you under his broadness, planting hot, wet kisses down your neck as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, his hands creeping below the fabric to palm at your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between his fingers as he waited for your response. Unfortunately, the best you could muster was a soft gasp of his name. 

“Fuck… Javi.” 

“That what you want, Hermosa? For me to fuck another baby into you, huh?” 

Javi knew it was exactly what you wanted, the two of you agreeing you were going to try for a third a few weeks ago, considering he was almost more ecstatic at the thought of growing your family than you were, and that the thought of knocking you up was something that made both of you absolutely insatiable. 

With the wet patch in your underwear growing damper and damper by the second, you barely had enough power in your brain to respond, especially now that Javi had pulled your shirt over your head, letting his kisses travel down your collarbone, chest, and now to your breasts, taking the nipples that he had been toying with between his fingers into his mouth, his tongue flicking and sucking at the harden buds as your moans began to grow like the fire in your belly. 

“Yes, oh fuck- yes. I want you to fuck another baby into me, Javi. Please.” You whimpered, your body squirming under his touch as he let his kisses drift down your stomach and hips, his fingers hooking over your shorts to pull them down off your legs, gently nudging them to fall open for him as he nestled himself between, admiring the wet, aching mess you had already become. 

“Then you have to promise me,” He smirked, draping each of your legs over his shoulders as he brought his face to your soaking heat, gently kissing your clit and letting the strong bridge of his nose ghost over your folds, “You have to promise me that you believe me. That you believe that you’re the most fucking beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Then, I’ll fuck another baby into you, okay? Can you do that for me, Momma?” 

“I- I- pr-promise.” Your voice trembled, ragged with want and desperation as Javi’s mouth hovered painstakingly still over your cunt, waiting for you to fulfill your promise so he could fill you with his. 

“There’s my good girl.” He cooed, feeling his smug smile bury itself into your pussy, letting a long, broad stroke of his tongue drag through your folds, the satisfying sensation making you shutter, your hips instinctively bucking towards Javi’s face as his grip around your legs tightened to hold you in place. His tongue languidly dragged across your cunt, slowly circling around your clit, soaking up the juices of your arousal that had been pooling between your legs, drinking up every single last drop. 

He let the presses of his tongue become firmer and more focused as he unhooked one of his arms, snaking his arm between your legs to gently press two fingers into your soaking entrance, easily sliding through your slick to curl against the soft spot inside you that had you relentlessly crying out his name. 

You couldn’t help but feel your bottom half squirm against your sheets, reaching down to tug at the dark curls of Javi’s hair, trying to find any sort of relief to keep from being a loud, moaning and whimpering mess as his tongue worked along your cunt, lapping you up like a man starved. His mouth latched along your clit, sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers pumped inside you, making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to build in a needy desperation. 

“Javi, holy fuck- oh my god baby, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You whimpered, somehow managing to keep your voice just above a whisper as Javi pulled away to respond, still holding a steady pace with his hand as he felt your pussy start to flutter around his fingers. 

“I’ve got you, Hermosa. Want you to soak my face before I feel you cum again around my cock. Give it to me, baby. Cum all over me before I fucking fill you up.”

With that, he was back between your legs, relentlessly working along your heat with his mouth as the coil in your belly wound so tightly, you were on the brink of snapping. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, oh shit- Fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaahhhhhhhhh.” 

It was barely seconds before your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure spreading through every inch of you as you clenched around Javi’s fingers, soaking his hand and face with your arousal as you came, screaming out his name as you reached your high. 

That’s it, Hermosa.” Javi smirked, squeezing his hand into the meat of your thigh as you rode out your orgasm, still slowly fucking you with his fingers as you came undone around them, your cunt clamping down on the delicious curve of his digits. Javi peeked his head back up as your breathing began to even out, your chest rising and falling in satisfaction as his kisses began to travel back up your body, stopping at your neck to take extra time to nip along your jawline, his teeth tugging at your earlobe as his voice rasped against your skin. 

“Such a good girl for me, Osita. So fucking wet. Fuck, I need to feel you, baby.” 

Before you even had time to catch your breath, Javi had his arms wrapped around your waist, flipping you over on to your stomach, dragging his hands down your back, stopping at your ass to grab a handful of the plump flesh and smack it, nudging your legs to spread open for him wider, pushing them out with his own. 

Javi worked behind you quickly and methodically, shedding himself of all of his clothes to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers, leaking with precum from the minute he had thought of the prospect of putting another baby in you. 

He stroked himself a few times, using his other hand to swipe through your folds, coating his fingers in your slick before wrapping them around his cock, now shiny with your arousal as he lined up with your entrance, filling you up inch by inch, almost painfully slowly, until he had bottomed out inside you, his hips flushed against your ass, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch. 

“Javi… Move, baby, please. I need to feel yo- Oh fuck!” You whimpered, your words drowned out by your moans as Javi had pulled himself out, only to thrust his whole length back into, gritting his teeth while a groan rumbled deep in his chest, draping his body over yours, burying one of his hands in your hair, gently tugging at the ends as he whispered into your ear, keeping his slow and meticulous pace. 

“You wanna feel me too, sweet girl? Wanna feel me fill you up when I fuck every last drop into you? Fuck myself so deep inside you it’ll fucking take? That what you want, baby?” 

“Yes, fuck, fuck, yes, please. Fuck, I want you fuck a baby into me, Javi. I wanna make you a Daddy again.” 

Another deep moan feel from Javi’s lips, scooping his hand under you to sit in his lap, your back flushed against his chest, one hand palming at your breast, the other wrapped around your waist, holding you in place as his pace began to increase, just enough to hear the wetness between the two of you with each thrust of his hips. 

You couldn’t help but let your bottom half grind deeper into each stroke, pushing yourself further and further down onto his cock, the sweet stretch of his fullness making your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, the wanton moans and whimpers babbling from your mouth almost as lewd as the sounds your bodies made as they melded into one another as you let him take everything you had to give. 

“Fuck me- That’s what you want, Momma? Fuck, I can’t wait to get you pregnant. See how beautiful you look carrying our baby again. Let everyone know you’re fucking mine with our baby growning inside you.” Letting his hand shift from your breast, he began sliding it up your chest, wrapping it around your jaw to tilt your head over your shoulder towards him, staring into his deep brown eyes before engulfing your lips in a long, wet kiss, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth without ever relenting his pace. 

His other hand dipped between your legs to circle your clit, still sensitive and swollen from your first orgasm, now throbbing even harder from his touch and feeling the heat beginning to bloom in  your belly as you felt your second high begin to approach. 

Javi knew just as well as you did that you were close to cumming again, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around his cock as his hips slapped against yours, breaking from your kiss to tug your earlobe between his teeth.

“Give me one more, Osita. Cum all over my cock and I’ll fill you up. Fill up this pretty little pussy ‘til she’s fucking stuffed and it’s got no choice but to fucking take and I knock you up.” 

“You promise?” You whispered, your breath shaky and legs trembling as Javi rubbed tighter, faster circles around your clit, still cradling your jaw to force your gaze on him. 

“I promise, baby. I fucking promise.” 

Almost instantly, you could feel the coil that had been winding tighter and tighter in your core suddenly began to snap, screaming out Javi’s name as you felt your second orgasm crash through you, consuming every inch of your body in euphoria, feeling like you had turned to Jello, the only thing keeping you up being Javi’s firm grasp around you. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. That’s it. Fuck, I’m close too, baby.” He mewled, his pace becoming frantic and sloppy as he held you up, fucking you through your high with reckless abandon, wanting to, no needing, to make sure he made good on his promise- that in 9 months from now, you’d have one more member in your family. 

Even though you were barely hanging on by a thread, you could feel Javi’s grip tightening around your jaw, tilting it back towards him, the firm pressure cupping your face enough to force your eyes open to meet the wrecked and ragged expression plastered across his face. 

“Eyes on me, Hermosa. Fuck, I need to- mierda- need to see that pretty face when I fuck you full of me. God, I love you so much, I love you so-ahhhhhhh, fuck.” It was then Javi’s turn to follow suit, only needing a few more pumps before he thrusted up once more, keeping himself buried deep inside your cunt as hot ropes of his spend covered your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop before even thinking of pulling out. 

Holding you in place still sitting on his cock, you could feel the mixture of the two of you beginning to drip down your thighs, prompting Javi to gently ease you off of him, letting your back hit the bed as carefully lifted your hips to slip one of the pillows underneath your bottom half, briefly admiring the wet mess between your legs before taking two fingers and collecting the arousal that had leaked from your cunt, attentively dragging it up your thighs and pushing it back into your heat, making you gasp at the sensation. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all day, sweet girl. Gotta make good on my promise.” He smirked, leaning down to pepper soft kisses to the inside of your thighs before slowly making his way back up your body, stopping at your lips for another tender kiss. 

“Given what just happened, I think you’re trying to kill me before you can make good on that promise, Jav. Jesus Christ.” You sighed, your voice riddled with breathy giggles as you playfully nudged your husband, now lying next to you, pulling you in to rest against the warmth of his bare chest. “You think Peña number 3 is gonna make an appearance soon?” 

“Like I said, mi amor, promise is a promise.” He smirked, boyish grin plastered across his face as he laid your hand across your stomach, gently rubbing it back and forth across your skin. “Plus, I think the girls will be thrilled to have another sister.” 

“Sister, huh? We don’t even know if there’s a baby in there yet you dork, let alone what it’s gonna be.” You snickered, rolling your eyes at Javi. 

“Been right about the other two. I’ll bet you all the breakfast sandwiches you want that it is.” 

“You’re absolutely ridiculous, I hope you know that. Thank you for this morning, Jav. The girls and I are so lucky to have you. I love you so much.” You sighed contently, smiling into Javi’s soft skin. 

“I love you too, Hermosa. All of you are the best things that have ever happened to me. All of my girls.” He winked, gently squeezing the curves of your belly, gesturing towards the daughter he proudly assumed he would be meeting in 9 months. 

“Well, all of us, or your new son and my unlimited amount of breakfast sandwiches.” you snickered, “When did your dad need us to go pick up the girls? We probably owe him a few breakfast sandwiches for watching the gremlins on such short notice.” 

“He said any time later today. Which means…” He smiled, caging his body over yours once again, as much time as we need to make sure that I win our bet.” 

“Game on, Peña.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

[squiddy-god]

Your works are literally AMAZING. I'm fawning over the dorm leaders × chubby reader 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼. Also I read your rules but I wasn't sure about character limit or anything so can I request dorm leaders with a s/o (gender neutral (i forgot what is called I'm not the best with these different genders but yall rock 💪🏼)) who has neglectful family so they act as if they aren't wanted. Basically just as if the dorm leaders are about to ignore her too? Idk if it makes sense. And when they have a problem they don't share it immediately, they keep more to themselves. Have a good day tho!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Heheheheheheheh love this request and the support teehee. Ok so i decided to do this all as like the collective of dorm leaders + jamil since that made the most sense to me so here you are <3 the first half can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic since you didn't specify sooooooo yeah, then the second half is more “dorm leaders with a collective crush” 

♥︎REQUEST OPEN♥︎

Cw: neglected reader, comfort, feelings of inadequacy and self deprecation 

I think at first when you first arrive they just assume that you are like most others at NRC and are just anti social since it is a school for villains 

But once you become more acquainted with them all and have a friendship with the rest of them they start to become more and more concerned with your behavior because they think that as friends you should be comfortable coming to them when you need help, especially after you have helped them so much with all that you’ve done 

I think riddle can really relate as it seems that when he wasn't being micromanaged he was being neglected at least emotionally so he knows the feeling 

Malleus and leona also understand, malleus has always just felt so alone that even tho lilia was a good parent he's never really had a lot of people in his life, leona has always felt second best or has been ignored so they also understand 

At first i don't think that any of them say too much, really they are trying to make you realize that they do in fact want to hang out because they enjoy being around you

It's even worse if they like you because they dont get why you are so distant

Eventually they call a intervention lol and have a sit down where they give you pseudo therapy to help you

They really try to hammer it home that you don't have too feel like you're not good enough and that again they do want you to be around them 

They also tell you that after all you've done they genuinely want you to come to them if you have problems or need something

Ok specifics time 

Riddle really relates to your issues, even though his problems are like on the opposite end of the spectrum he also struggles with feeling like he has to do everything on his own, he tries to help you the same way you helped him. He likes inviting you to tea and all but interrogating you on anything you may need help with. Definitely helps you study 

Leona is less forward about his affections/making you feel better but he has his own ways. If he sees you on his way to the botanical garden he is dragging you with him and you are TAKING A NAP. he doesn't give af you are napping with him and you are gonna be so snug. In leonas mind he hates people disturbing him when he's napping so having you with him when he's napping means that he doesn't see you as a disturbance. It's really sweet. He also relates to feeling pushed aside and neglected so he makes sure to give you extra attention. 

Azul is well versed in insecurity and while his stems from self image and body images, he still understands it at the core. He's bad at this really, he wants to be there for you but the shady octopus is struggling big time. He decides that having you for dinners is a good idea, the lounge is nice and peaceful as you eat a tasty dinner together, he takes the opportunity to ask if anyone has been bothering you lately, old shady habits die hard. 

Jamil cooks with you (i feel like jamil's idea of cooking with you is you sit on the counter and eat the little treats he gives you while he does the real cooking) jkjk he likes cooking with you because it allows you to both be close and do something you enjoy, but it also lets you both get a little treat at the end (the treat is his cooking because its god tier) 

Vil makes it known very quickly that he will not be standing for this behavior. He's putting an end to it one way or another, hence your now shared morning and night skincare routine. Well it's more like doing each other's routine, he teaches you the steps, you do his and he does yours. Whole nine yards, im talking matching fluffy headbands and those cute face masks as a treat. Normally he wouldn't get them but if a hello kitty/fun face/eye mask makes you happy then he will indulge (only after triple checking the ingredients because he does not play games)

Idia games with you, either separately or together in his dorm he loves playing videogames with you, especially ones like “it takes two” (amazing game btw) he's very antisocial so he hopes you understand how close he feels letting you into his room to game with him because literally no one else gets this kind of SS+ 5 hearts treatment 

Malleus is the worst offender because if you thought the dragon was already kinda clingy after this info is revealed it is 100% worse. He feels the need to show you all the attention he can to make up for lost time, the same way having you as a friend (and potentially more than a friend) has made up for manyyyyyyyy years of loneliness in his mind. The night walks are his favorite, hand in hand as you both walk along in silence, even with the silence he occasionally chimes in with little words of affirmation. If you want to talk he is so happy to listen, eventually you find that hes quite the yapper, happily talking about anything you will listen to and hoping that you yap right back at him.

[zomb-core]

۫ ꣑ৎ HARD TO LOVE || carl grimes x female reader

summary: you believe you're hard to love, carl is determined to prove you wrong.

(intended lowercase)

warnings: insecurities.

angst, comfort, & fluff

you spent countless hours staring at yourself in the mirror night after night, despite the state of the world you found yourself constantly worried with your appearance along with your worth. you wondered how someone could ever see you as worthy of their love or their time, so when carl came along and treated you as if you were, you were perplexed.

you met him shortly after his arrival to alexandria, it didn't take long for you and him to click and after you did it was pure bliss. you didn't plan to fall in love with him, let alone anyone due to the way the world was, but something about him was so alluring and you couldn't seem to get rid of the feeling after it started. to your surprise, your feelings were reciprocated and he wanted to pursue a relationship with you claiming that ‘no one knows how much time they have left, why waste it?’

roughly six months had passed since then and you had never been more happy, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you didn't deserve him.

he's the sweetest boy you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, despite his chronic attitude. he always looked after you and made sure you were well, he would do whatever it took to make sure you were content and you couldn't be more grateful. he provided you with a type of love you never had the chance of experiencing before and you weren't sure how to respond to it a lot of the time, the lingering thought that you weren't enough constantly haunting you throughout each day.

it didn't take long for carl to pick up on your insecurities, and once he did he was determined to fix your way of thinking. so when he walked in on you hunched over with your head in your hands letting out loud sobs, he was set on making sure you knew just how worthy you are,

“hey, what's wrong?” he quickly found his way next to you, resting his hand on your knee, using his thumb to rub back and forth motions on your skin in an attempt to comfort you.

“go away, carl. i’m fine.” you begged through your tears, feeling pathetic with him watching you.

he knitted his brows together at your words, trying to decide whether to pry or to leave, but finding himself unable to leave you there to cry.

“you're clearly upset, talk to me.”

you pulled your head out of your hands to look at him, your distraught appearance being more than enough proof that something was seriously wrong; your hair was disheveled from digging your fists in it, your cheeks were red and stained with tears, your eyes were glossy and filled to the brim with tears. “why can't you just leave me alone? the more you care the worse it hurts, please just go.”

he flinched at the sudden frustration in your tone, but didn't miss the way your voice cracked and shook as you spoke. “do you not want me to care?”

“no, it's not that—”

“then what is it?”

him cutting you off only added to your irritation, causing you to snap back quickly, “because I don't deserve it, damnit!”

you watched the way his face shifted from confused to disbelieving, a scoff passing his lips. you could tell he didn't agree with your statement and part of that managed to upset you more, how could it not when someone like him saw more in you than you ever could. “are you kidding me?”

you averted your gaze, looking down at where his hand was placed against your leg, another tear making its way down your cheek at the sight. you loved him more than anything and his touch brought you more comfort than anything in the world, but at that moment it all felt so wrong.

“why would you think that?” he wasn't oblivious to your feelings and you knew that, but he still became so incredulous at the notion of you not being enough for him.

“look at me, I'm a mess! I can't do anything right, I suck at expressing my feelings, I'm crying over nothing and now I'm making you sit here and listen to this!” your voice only became more weak the longer you went on, a slight rasp developing from the amount of time you spent sobbing and yelling.

he paused for a moment before reaching over and grabbing your hands which had been flailing around as you spoke in an attempt to emphasize your point. “you're not making me do anything, I want to sit here and listen to you.” he reassured, leaning down to make you look him in the eye, “I love you and just because you get upset or struggle with things doesn't change that, I don't know who made you think that but it's bullshit.”

you looked up at him through wet lashes, searching his face for any signs of dishonesty, sniffling when you found none. “what about that way I look? does it not bother you?”

he stared at you for a moment, searching your face as you had done to him prior to your question. once noticed that you were being genuine, he stood up, guiding you from your spot on the bed to the bathroom, standing behind you while you stood facing the mirror. you couldn't help but feel confused, looking at his reflection in the glass for a hint as to what he was doing.

you were quickly answered when he wrapped his hand around your chin, turning your head so you were making eye contact with yourself, his other hand beginning to twirl your hair between his fingers, “tell me what's wrong with the way you look.”

you scoffed at him, confused by his antics while also being slightly embarrassed, “i’m just not pretty, carl.” you stated, trying to pull your face from his grip to better look at him but finding your attempts futile. “what is the point of this?”

“I want you to see just how perfect you are.” you felt him tilt his head, settling it in the crook of your neck. he began pressing soft kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone, the feeling causing a shiver to shoot down your spine. “not just physically.”

“this is embarrassing.” you felt your cheeks become warm as you started to fidget with your hands due to how awkward you felt.

“what's embarrassing is you thinking you're not enough.” he retorted, “do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?”

“hit me.” you say, finding yourself slowly easing into his touch.

“you have the most beautiful eyes and the most beautiful rosy cheeks,” he rests his chin on your shoulder, admiring your reflection in the mirror with a soft smile playing on his lips, “your hair frames your face perfectly… despite the apocalypse you still manage to be the prettiest girl i’ve ever met.”

by the end of his speech, you had to blink away the tears threatening to run down your cheeks as you released a shaky exhale. you managed to ease yourself out of his grasp, turning around to bury your face in his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso. you balled his shirt up in your fists, soft sobs escaping your lips as he brought one of his hands to rest on the back of your head while the other was snaked around your waist. “I don't think I could ever love someone the way I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and there is no way in hell you are undeserving of that. you will never be less than perfect to me.” with every word you found yourself crying harder, wondering how you got so lucky in the boyfriend department even at the end of the world.

“I don't understand why you think that you aren't.” he stated, sounding a bit disappointed at the suggestion that you still thought that you were unworthy, he knew he couldn't change the way you were conditioned to think, but he was determined to try. “I love you, okay?”

“I love you, too.”

he pulled back, tucking your hair behind your ear and pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead, “how about we get you cleaned up and we can read this new comic I found on my last run?”

“I'd like that.”

a/n: this is kind of cringe and occ but my friend really wanted me to upload it so here it is!!

masterlist

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FIVE

previous chapters | kofi | i'm honestly amazed that i actually completed this chapter today; as a lot of yall know i've been dealing with a lot of shitty life stuff lately and part of me expected this to not even get posted this month. and yet!! here we are. thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and amazing, this chapter is for you and i hope you like it 💖 chapter summary: you're starting to feel a bit insecure about your relationship with joel. perhaps a late night visit to his house is what you need 👀 rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), fingering, handjobs, comeplay word count: 9k (woops) ao3

The rest of the week goes by gruelingly slow. Joel is busy every day and has barely any time to talk, so you mainly communicate through texts. The "conversations" are slow and broken, Joel only able to text when he has a free moment, which doesn't seem to be very often. You don't talk on the phone again, as much as you want to hear his voice, and you don't sext again either. It's a bit weird, a bit confusing, but you navigate it as best you can. It's not like he's ignoring you, he always responds, but it's just not the same as that first day.

you still wanna do this, right?

You type it around midnight on Thursday, hands trembling a bit as you hover over the send button. In one way you're afraid to ask him, afraid to seem clingy or young or inexperienced; but you're all of those things. When he's actually talking to you directly there's no fear, no question about what he wants, but going so long without hearing his voice makes you more and more insecure about what exactly he's thinking.

You erase the first message and start to type another one:

i know you're busy but

You shake your head and erase that one too. This is so stupid. Of course he still wants you, you idiot.

He'd said he was okay with the lie you'd told, had even said he would actually teach you guitar now too, but you're an overthinker, always have been. You can't help but feel dread whirling around in the pit of your stomach; he wants to end it, it's too complicated now. You've turned something sexy and fun into something ridiculous and unnecessary.

You lock your phone without sending anything and roll around in bed a bit, trying to sleep. Your thoughts make it impossible though, nagging at the front of your mind worse than your parents. You sit up and slide the tip of your thumb into your mouth, biting down in thought and staring at the blank screen of your phone.

What if you just...

are you home?

He hadn't sent you anything earlier to confirm he'd gotten back; you've discovered over the past few days that contractors really like to drink after their shift. Joel's been at the bar every night since that first day, often 'til late; you have to admit, it makes you a bit jealous to imagine Joel and his contracting crew out having a great time while you're laying in your childhood bed with a curfew. Bar hopping and partying has never appealed to you before, at least not when your college friends did it, but now the thought of it doesn't seem so bad. Not if you were doing it with him...

Your phone buzzes and you feel excitement burst through you at his reply:

Got in about 10 minutes ago, didn't think you'd be up. You okay?

You soften at his concern, cheeks warming. You don't hesitate, knowing if you think too much about it you'll end up changing your mind. You type your your response and hit send before you can talk yourself out of it.

can i come over?

You stare at the screen with bated breath, watching as his typing bubble appears. It takes barely any time at all for him to reply:

Of course you can. Door's unlocked.

--

Sneaking out of your house is much easier than you thought it'd be. You've never done it before, had almost expected the bottom half of your house to suddenly have some kind of security system with lasers and cameras, but nope. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You're wearing one of your old nightdresses, pink and frilly; you'd opted to start wearing them again the other day, liking the way they made you feel, accentuating your legs and breasts like your old Sunday school dress. You'd changed quickly every morning before going downstairs to save your parents from the heart attacks they'd have seeing you with so little skin coverage. But there's no need to change now, not with where you're going. You yank on a jacket and sneakers and carefully open and close the front door, scurrying out into the cool night air.

Joel's house isn't far, just a street over. You try not to run, as much as you want to; you know you'll end up all sweaty and messy haired - the opposite of how you'd like to portray yourself tonight, but your skin is practically glowing with anticipation. You hold the short hem of your nightdress down as you speed walk through the dark suburban streets of your neighborhood.

Your heart starts pounding when his house comes into view; the living room window is dimly lit. You jog up the front steps and take a deep breath before turning the handle, smiling to yourself when it opens easily; he'd really left the door unlocked for you.

"Mr. Miller?" you call in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and turning the lock.

He emerges from the living room and you feel your eyes widen. All he's wearing is a pair of loose fitting plaid pajama pants; nothing else. No shirt, no socks, and probably no underwear. You swallow, eyes trailing up and down the naked solidness of his chest, the greying hair smattered along the skin. He's got a softness to him, a bit of a pudgy belly that makes you want to smile, but his rugged sexiness is even more apparent. His strong pecs, freckled arms, the hair trailing down his stomach and into his pajama pants... it suddenly leaves you unable to breathe or form a coherent thought.

"There's my girl," he says, voice low and husky; he must have talked a lot today, called people's names, ordered them around, "C'mere."

Your brain is still muddled and awestruck as you feel yourself rush forward, arms immediately wrapping around his bare torso. His skin is softer than you'd thought it'd be, warm under your touch as you carefully press your cheek to his chest. You feel the scratch of hair against your skin, reminding you of his age; fifty six. The thought gives you an ache between your legs.

He holds you close and rubs your back, presses a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, fingers splaying across the wide span of his back. You find yourself able to breathe again, but all you inhale is his scent, fresh and masculine. It's then that you realize his skin is slightly damp, peppered here and there with little droplets of water.

"I just got out of the shower," he says quietly, answering your unspoken question, "Was about to get in bed when you texted but I figured if you were comin' over I should clean myself up a bit."

You hum against his chest, still not sure exactly what to say. The ache between your legs is growing stronger the more you stand here in his embrace; somehow you hadn't expected to feel this way just from hugging him, although you probably should have guessed.

"I wanna get in your bed," you say softly, opening your eyes again and pulling back to look at him. His expression says it all, eyes going dark as they fall to your lips.

"Then let's get in my bed," he murmurs, just as quiet.

--

The last time you were in Joel's bedroom there'd been more of a sense of urgency, when he'd sat with you in his lap on the edge of his bed and held you open in front of the mirror. Now things are much slower, more quiet. You slip in behind him and unzip your jacket, taking it off and hanging it carefully on the hook behind his door.

"That's pretty," he says behind you, and you feel him reach out to gently touch the pink material, hand ghosting the bare skin of your chest. Your breath hitches and he smiles, "Tiny little thing, isn't it?"

"I've had it for a long time, I thought you might like it."

"I do," he pulls you toward him, then reaches his hands up to thumb the thin straps of the nightdress. You watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pushes them off your shoulders, "I'm gonna take it off though, that okay?"

Your brow furrows; he notices your reaction and his hands freeze, "Not okay?" he asks, confused slightly.

"N-no, it's okay," you say quickly, "I just... I'm still a little self conscious."

His eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head, "You have nothin' to be self conscious about, sweetheart," he reassures you, "I wanna see you..." he pushes the straps down your shoulders and you stand there trembling slightly as he pulls the dress down, exposing your breasts to him, "There you are."

You shiver a bit under his gaze, but not out of discomfort or fear. You feel safe with him; you know he'd never do anything you didn't consent to. You're just not exactly sure what you want, what exactly you've really come here for. Before you'd left the house you'd been so afraid that he was losing interest, already getting tired of you; now he stares at you like you're some kind of rare gem, making you feel bashful and beautiful under his gaze.

"I wanna touch you," you whisper, the shakiness of your voice betraying your nervousness - or anticipation.

His hands freeze for a few seconds but he regains composure quickly, tugging the dress down further until it's cascading down your legs, putting you completely on display. He swallows audibly, taking you in. You look at his face and feel yourself pulse under his gaze, the way he's staring directly at your bare pussy.

"Let's get in bed," he murmurs, "I think there's a few things we can touch."

His words send a buzzing warmth through your body and you cross your legs unconsciously, an action that makes him smirk. You turn away from him with heat flooding your cheeks as you climb into his bed; it's large and comfortable, but you already know neither of you will be taking advantage of the big space. You sit up against his headboard and pull the duvet up over yourself, hiding your breasts from view - as if he hasn't already seen them.

"I'll keep these on" he says softly, tugging at the band of his pajama pants, "Don't worry."

Your heart leaps to your throat and you nod quickly - probably too quickly. It's not that you're scared to see him naked; you've already seen both halves now and that's taken away a lot of the fear, but the concept of being in bed together, both naked... you're not sure you're ready yet. And you're glad he understands that without you having to say it out loud.

You watch as he climbs into bed and positions himself up against the headboard like you, scooches in next to you so your sides are touching. His skin against yours is unlike anything you've felt with him up until this point; he's so warm, a firm and large presence at your side that immediately has you feeling intimidated. Your nerves are already beginning to set alight just by having him so close. You open your mouth to speak but are unable to say anything when he inches even closer, his bare waist pressing firmly against yours.

"Hey, you're okay," he breathes, reaching up to gently thumb your cheek in a calming motion, brow furrowing slightly, "You don't gotta be nervous, sweetheart, it's only me."

"I'm not nervous," you whisper back, and while you're not exactly being honest there's certainly something else you're feeling, "I'm just..." you cross your legs again under the duvet, "I'm getting really wet."

He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat that makes you smile a little, cheeks burning under his gaze. He reaches over and slowly pushes the blankets down from your loose grip, exposing you to him once again. He moves his hand down, fingertips trailing along your bare chest until carefully bringing one of your breasts into his palm and squeezing gently.

"You don't gotta hide these from me, darlin'," he murmurs, thumb dragging across your nipple, sending tingles throughout your body, "They're too pretty to stay outta sight."

You shiver when he carefully tweaks your nipple between his fingers, his gaze firmly set on his movements. You watch together as he plays with it, toys with it, rolls it between thumb and forefinger. The warm and tight feeling sends an odd tingling sensation from your breast to your pussy, like they're connected somehow.

"I'm gonna put this in my mouth," he says softly, "Suck on it a little bit, that okay?"

You can't help but feel a bit unsure, biting your lip, "Is that... does it feel good to do that?"

He nods up at you, thumbing your nipple again slowly, "Feels really good, I promise. You got a lot of nerves here, just like your pussy. Really sensitive."

Your eyes are hazy as you nod to him slowly, "Th-that sounds nice."

At your words he leans his head down and brings your nipple into his mouth, dropping his fingers and replacing his thumb with the warm suction of his lips. You gasp out in surprise, hand coming up to immediately cup the back of his head.

You've never felt anything like this; the suction of his mouth is so new and strange, that tingling sensation returning as you cross your legs tighter and whimper aloud as he sucks your nipple. His tongue is wet and warm, tracing the shape of you in little circles, while his free hand comes up to squeeze your other breast, tweak it with his fingers. Your breath begins to come out raggedly, brow furrowing and legs tightening together as he suckles.

"Oh my god," you hear yourself whimper, hand tightening in his hair, "Why does that feel so good?"

He pulls off your nipple with a quiet laugh, peering up at you, "Yeah, you like the way that feels, babygirl?"

You nod quickly, swallowing and trying to get your breath back, "Yes," you whisper, "A lot."

He smiles at that, "Then how 'bout you lay back for me?"

It's an offer that's impossible to refuse. You quickly pull yourself down from the headboard and slip beneath the covers, head coming to rest on one of his pillows. He slips under as well, then very slowly positions himself on top of you, a leg on either side of your trembling form. You look up at him with wide eyes, unsure whether you're more nervous or excited.

"You're okay," he reassures you again, inching downward a bit and pressing a few gentle kisses to your neck, "Gotta be on top to do this right, so it feels good."

You nod slowly, "I c-can feel..."

"What?" he whispers, "What do you feel?"

Your arms are loose at your sides and Joel's are pinned above you, but there's an unmistakable feeling of something prodding into your thigh, large and thick.

"Your cock," you manage to whisper, voice trembling, "I think."

"That's right," he murmurs, "It's 'cause I'm gettin' hard from suckin' you like that, touchin' you," he trails his fingers down your sides gently, making you shiver, "You like feelin' it there?"

You feel yourself slowly nodding, eyes going even more hazy and hooded, "I wanna touch it."

"I know you do," he whispers, "I want you to touch it too, sweetheart. But I'm gonna play with you a little longer," he leans his face down and licks a small stripe against your other nipple, making your hips buck, "Then I'll teach you how to touch it, that alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, "Please."

"You like when I play with you, don't you?" he murmurs against your breast, then captures your other nipple in his mouth and starts to suck.

"Y-yes," you repeat, hand coming up again to tangle in his hair, already overwhelmed by the sensation, "I missed it."

He hums, sending another cascade of tingles throughout your body. To think that less than half an hour ago you were laying in bed wondering if he still wanted you; now you're naked and he's on top of you with his mouth on your breast. How is this your life?

"What did'ya miss?" he pulls off for barely a few seconds, scruff scratching perfectly against your sensitive skin, "Tell me, babygirl, wanna know what you've been thinkin' about."

You whimper when he goes back to suckling, your fingers threading through his greying curls. It's hard to get your thoughts straight when he's making you feel like this, every tight suck and wet lick going directly to your aching core.

"J-just missed you touching me," you breathe, voice rough and wanton with pleasure, "Missed your hands on me, your fingers..."

At your words he carefully brings one of his hands downward, caressing your body gently as he goes. Your breath hitches when he swipes his middle and index finger down your wet seam, urging you to open up for him. You uncross your trembling legs, looking down to watch as he continues to suck on your breast while his fingers dip down to your wetness.

"Inside," you whisper, finishing your thought but almost giving him a command at the same time; he doesn't hesitate, immediately pushing both fingers past your entrance and slipping them inside your throbbing hole, "Fuck," you whimper, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, "Like that."

You can feel the head of his cock through his pajama pants, pulsing against your thigh, leaving a sticky spot in the fabric. The fact that he's getting hard just by doing this to you, getting wet in his own way, it just turns you on even more.

He pulls off your breast with a wet pop and tilts his head up to look at you, pressing little kisses around your nipple and then pulling himself up a bit to hover over you. You feel his clothed cock prod your lower belly and you shiver again.

"Wanted to be full again, huh?" he murmurs, eyes dark, "Missed havin' these big fingers inside you?"

You nod and tug at his curls, urging him to lean his face down toward you. He takes the hint immediately, smirking a bit before reaching down to press his lips to yours and kiss you hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, contentment and arousal flooding through you as he slowly pushes his fingers in and out of you. Your hand moves from his hair to cup his jaw, loving the feeling of his beard beneath your fingers.

"Wanna know what I missed?" he asks against your lips, voice deep and breathy, "Missed this tiny little hole, so tight, all for me," at his words he curls the tips of his fingers inside of you, making you emit a loud whimper that makes him grin, "That's right, takin' my fingers so well, angel. Bet you could take three now," you feel another one of his fingers prod you alongside his others, "You want that, babygirl? Want three of those big fingers?"

You swallow nervously but slowly nod, tugging your bottom lip into your mouth, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "Wanna be full."

"Good girl," he murmurs, brushing his nose lightly against yours, "You're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You hear the sounds you're making but you're not quite sure where they're coming from or how you're making them; you sound pathetic and breathless as he fucks you with his fingers, teases the third at your hole and leans down to kiss you again. His tongue slips past your lips and you feel the vibration of your own moans in his mouth when his thumb gently teases your clit.

"There you go, angel," he mutters against your lips as his third finger breaches your entrance, slowly pushes past the other two, "Thaaat's it, babygirl."

You tremble underneath him, feeling your body tense up at the new intrusion. You've had three of your own fingers inside yourself, but not three of his, long and thick and so much bigger than your own. You hear your whimpers turn into cries as his fingers fill you up, your own hands coming up to grip his back, nails digging into the skin.

"Shhh," he soothes, trailing more kisses along your face in an attempt to relax you, "You're okay, sweetheart, you're okay." And you are okay, being underneath him like this, being entirely at his mercy as he pushes your limits, helps you discover something new. It burns a bit, stretches and pulls and stings, but he talks you through it, whispers reassuring words in your ear, and you know you're safe.

He stills once all three fingers are deep inside, then pulls himself up a bit to look at you, pushing a stray hair behind your ear and peering down with a soft expression despite the depraved circumstances.

"How's that feel?" he whispers, voice gentle and soothing, "Tell me."

You're still making whimpering noises, shaky and quiet, but you're able to reply with the only word you can bring to the front of your mind: "Full."

He smiles down at you, brushes his nose against yours, "You did so good, angel," he murmurs, eyes not leaving yours, "I'm prouda you."

He knows what he's doing with that phrase; immediately you feel yourself loosen beneath him, hands going slightly limp against his back. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and slowly begins to move his fingers again, pumping them in and out at an even pace.

It's amazing. It's so different than just two fingers, so much bigger and fuller - you've never felt anything like it; something so dirty but somehow passionate and warm. He kisses you as he fucks you with them, hovering over you with his hot skin emanating onto yours, wisps of hair from his chest and stomach tickling you everywhere. He thumbs your clit again and you moan loudly against his lips, your orgasm swelling in your belly as your hands tangle in his hair and pull him closer.

"You gonna come, angel?" he asks you softly, sweetly, pulling back a bit to stare deeply into your wide eyes, "Yeah, you're gonna come on those big fingers, huh? Can feel your pussy gettin' all tight around me, she wants it so bad doesn't she?"

You moan even louder as you frantically nod, "Yes, gonna come, gonna come," you cry out, overwhelmed by the thickness of his fingers and the way he's looking at you, the way he's talking to you; everything is just him.

"That's right, give it to me, sweet girl," he urges you, plunging into you faster and faster as his thumb rotates mercilessly against your clit, "Make a mess for me, soak those fingers, there you go."

You keen, high and borderline ridiculous as you stiffen beneath him and begin to shake, pitiful sounds escaping your mouth as you come. He fucks you through it, watching your face every step of the way and not stopping his movements until you've come down completely. You lay beneath him, chest heaving and eyes closing involuntarily as he strokes your thigh tenderly, reassuringly. He keeps his fingers lodged deep inside of you, not moving but simply keeping you full as you come down from your orgasm; you find yourself hoping he doesn't pull them out just yet.

"Can I show you somethin'?" he asks softly, and you open your eyes to find him still peering down at your face. You can't speak, can only nod as you bite down on your lip and try to catch your breath, your entire brain focused solely on the way his fingers feel inside you. As if he can read your mind, he's suddenly pulling them out and bringing them up to hover between the two of you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, suddenly feeling beyond empty as you pout up at him. He just chuckles to himself, still holding his three fingers - wet and glistening - in front of you while his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his pajama pants. Your eyes go wide, lips parting a bit as you look from his face to where his hand is and back again.

Without words from either of you, he slowly reaches inside and pulls out his cock, thick and dripping. You make a weird sound in the back of your throat, sitting up slightly as you peer at it with wonder. He's showed it to you before, it's nothing new, and yet...

"That's about the same width, wouldn't you say?" he asks you quietly, bringing his dripping fingers down to his hard cock and aligning them side by side; he's right - the thickness of all three of his fingers is relatively similar to the thickness of his cock. There's certainly different aspects - the length being the main difference - but the overall width is pretty spot on.

"Y-yeah," you say softly, eyes glued to it, "Pretty close."

You watch as he carefully drags his fingers along the thick length of his cock, still soaked with your release. He spreads your juices along it with his thumb and fingers, fists it gently and very slowly fucks his fist once. Your eyes are hooded and dark, saliva beginning to pool inside your mouth for reasons you can't even begin to understand.

"You just took three fingers," he continues, thumb tracing the base of his wide tip, "So wouldn't you say that answers a question you've been worryin' your pretty little head about?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, trying to figure out what he means. It's hard to focus on absolutely anything else when his dick is right there in front of you, practically begging to be touched, the fat head pulsing and drooling under your gaze.

"Oh, this is gonna be a problem, isn't it?" he says, amused as he continues to slowly stroke himself, "Can't even think when there's a cock in front of you, huh?"

The words snap you back to reality, but only slightly. You smile sheepishly as you will yourself to look up at his face and away from his dick, "Wh-what question, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles, "You were afraid it wouldn't fit inside you, babygirl," he reminds you gently, "But it will, we just proved that."

Your brain slowly makes sense of what he's saying and you can't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you; he's right. It had burned a bit, been uncomfortable for a moment or two, but ultimately you'd been able to take all three and enjoy it. You feel a smile spread across your face, and you notice his eyes soften slightly as he looks at you.

"You're right," you say breathlessly, smile still wide, "I did it, didn't I?"

His expression softens even more and he smiles back at you, laughing quietly to himself. He opens his mouth to say something but then seems to think better of it, pulling one of his legs back and moving to sit beside you on the bed instead of over you. Your brow furrows a bit in confusion.

"What is it?"

He just shakes his head, still smiling softly to himself, "Nothin', you're just... you're adorable."

Your cheeks warm at that, unable to help feeling a little self conscious. Now that you've come down from your orgasm you're suddenly hyperaware of your nakedness, of the fact that he can see every inch of your body. You draw the covers up around yourself quickly, hoping he won't mind.

"Such a shy little thing," he murmurs softly, but makes no move to pull the blankets down again like he had before, just watches you with a smile as your gaze slowly falls back to where he's hard and aching.

"Can I...?" you can't bring yourself to say the words, feeling flustered and nervous at the very thought. He just nods and reaches over to touch your hand, strokes your trembling fingers in his grip.

You watch as he carefully maneuvers your hand toward his crotch and slowly places your hand on his cock. Your fingers curl around his girth almost instinctively, imitating what you've seen him do before. Your lips part, breath hitching as your skin touches his most intimate area, a place on a man you never thought you'd ever be able to feel, at least not until you were married.

It's soft. Not in terms of arousal but just in texture, a silky and smooth feeling you hadn't been expecting. You stare down at your own hand in slight awe as your thumb gently strokes along his shaft, brow furrowing at how different it is than what you'd imagined. It's surprisingly just a body part, just an extension of Joel that usually remains hidden and secret; it's not as scary or intimidating when you can touch it like this, play with it like he plays with you.

"Wow," you say softly, barely aware of it as your fist ever so slowly moves along his length, pumps him just once in that hypnotic way he'd showed you; he's still covered in your own release, wet and slippery, but somehow you don't feel grossed out by it.

"You're a natural," he replies just as quietly, and your skin heats again when you look up to see his face, see the desire and pleasure in his expression, "Don't think there's much I need to teach you, to be honest. My parts are a lot simpler than yours."

You smile to yourself and pump him slowly again, this time brushing against the wet and throbbing tip. He makes a faint grunting sound that makes your eyebrows go up.

"This part..." you say quietly, thumbing the head ever so slightly and feeling your heart race when it pulses beneath you, "It feels different?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, biting down on his lip for a moment, "That part's sensitive, kinda like your clit."

You nod slowly, pushing your thumb up a bit and slowly rotating it along the sensitive area. He inhales sharply, grunts again when you prod the spongey head with both your thumb and index finger, teasing it like he'd done with your nipple.

"Fuck," he mutters softly, voice heavy and breathless, "That's it, angel, you got it."

His praise is like a warm blanket, shrouding you in safety and comfort as you slowly pump his cock again, teasing the head intermittently and trying not to smile too much every time he makes another one of those breathy grunting sounds. You feel pride swelling in your chest, the knowledge that you're actually making him feel good pushing you to continue on.

"What about these?" you ask softly, stilling your hand on his cock for a moment to gesture toward his balls, round and heavy beneath the base, "Does it....do they feel good when they get touched, too?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice dark and full of arousal, "They do."

"Can I touch them?"

The sound that emits from his throat sounds almost like a growl, low and husky, "Yes," he groans, "Go ahead and touch 'em, sweetheart."

The tone of his voice is slightly desperate, bordering on depraved. Your eyes travel back up to his face and his jaw is slack, eyes hooded as he watches you touch him. You've never seen him like this, almost completely wrecked by something you did.

"Gotta be real gentle," he continues, taking a breath through his nostrils and reaching down to pull his pajama pants down a bit more for easier access, "They're sensitive too."

You resume your slow pumping of his cock with one hand while your other reaches down to lightly trail the tips of your fingers along the shape of his balls, round and tender. You cup them gently, teasing them one by one in your palm. He hisses in pleasure, eyes shutting tightly as he leans back a bit against the headboard.

"Feel good?" you whisper, trying your best to fall into the role Joel usually takes on, the role of the person giving the pleasure.

"Yes, baby," he groans, pressing the backs of his hands against his shut eyes, "Yes, feels so good, sweetheart."

Your pumping gets a bit faster, a bit wetter as precum continues to drool from the tip and down his shaft. It's unbelievable that you're really sitting here in a man's bed, a man about thirty years older than you, pumping his cock and making him come apart like this. You can feel yourself throbbing beneath the blankets, getting wet all over again at the reality of the situation, and when your movements cause the blankets to fall from your chest and expose your breasts again, you don't bother trying to cover up.

Joel groans at the sight, reaching over to tweak one of your nipples between his fingers, making you whimper, "You know what happens when a man comes?" he asks you suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure, "You learn about that in school?"

You nod quickly, feeling sweat trickle down your face as you continue to stroke him up and down, "Yes," you whisper, "I know what happens."

He groans again, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath as he begins to palm your breasts, "I'm about to come, darlin'. There's gonna be a lot, need to know where to aim it."

You bite down on your lip, trying to keep all your focus on making him feel good and not on the hands now squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples. "Wh-where do you want it to go?" But you already know the answer.

"Here," he grunts, thumbing your hard nipples, "These. Wanna come all over these pretty tits, sweetheart, will you let me?"

You nod, "Y-yes, Mr. Miller."

It's everything he needs to suddenly pull himself up from the bed and pull your hands off him, gesturing for you to lie back against his pillows. Your heart races in anticipation, eyes going wide and lips parting again as he leans over you and starts to jack his cock, fast and unrelenting. This is what he'd done the other night, when you'd talked on the phone; you'd tried to imagine what he'd looked like, making his own mess... now you're about to find out.

"Stay just like that, babygirl, just like that," he grunts out, pumping himself over and over as he aims the tip toward your bare breasts, swollen from all the attention he's given them tonight. His expression is tense and so is his body, soft stomach suddenly taut with pressure, chest heaving as he works his hand. He looks almost pained, brows scrunched together as he pulls himself over the edge.

"Come," you find yourself saying quietly, a shaky whimper playing at the edge of your voice, "Come for me."

Within seconds of your words your skin is hit with long ropes of a warm, white liquid, splattering across your breasts in uneven patterns. You watch with hooded eyes as Joel slows his strokes, groans louder than he has all night as his release spurts continuously from the head of his cock, painting you all over. His tense expression eases into one of pure bliss as he tosses his head back again, moaning up at the ceiling.

Wow.

Without asking for permission, without even questioning whether it's proper sex etiquette to do so, you find your hand travelling quickly downward to your wet pussy. You frantically begin to rub your clit, still gazing up at Joel's pleasured form, feeling his come slipping down the sides of your breasts onto the sheets below. You throb and pulse beneath your fingers, whining softly to yourself as your body readies itself for your second orgasm.

Joel looks down at you then, cock still in hand, slowly beginning to soften. He sees what you're doing immediately, and the devilish smirk that crosses his face is enough to send you over the edge.

"Fuuuuck," you moan out as you come, trembling in the sheets and curling your toes in pleasure, "Mmmm," you squirm and writhe beneath his gaze until it's over, then lay still and loose on the bed with barely any thoughts floating through your mind.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to collect yourselves. You can't help but look down at your chest, see the thick patches of come splattered all over your breasts, your nipples. How all of that could come from one person is wild to you; this certainly hadn't been taught in any of your health classes.

The memory of being so naïve, so innocent... it makes you grin. Because you couldn't be further from that person anymore, the one who did everything that was asked of her, never listened to her own heart, stayed on the sidelines and focused on math and extracurriculars and God while other people had these experiences. And now here you are - actually having them.

"I guess I'm not a good little Christian girl anymore," you find yourself saying with a shaky giggle; you suddenly feel reinvigorated, sexually liberated... free.

Joel laughs at that, breathless and genuine. He grins down at you, releases his cock and shuffles downward to lay beside you, "You're my good little Christian girl," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cradle your face, "You did so good."

"Did I?" you ask sincerely, "Be honest, I wanna know."

He just smiles and thumbs your cheek, eyes going crinkly, "You were perfect, babygirl, I swear." He leans forward and kisses you gently, sweetly, like you both didn't just do something completely filthy and depraved - but you're starting to realize that maybe it's normal to do things like this, not as taboo and sinful as you'd always thought.

When you part, you're suddenly painfully aware of the state of the bed, not to mention both of your bodies. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat, you've got come dripping down your skin, and both fluids are already beginning to stain the bedsheets. You make a face.

"Can we...can we change the sheets? And can I maybe take a shower?"

Joel chuckles at that, stroking your cheek one last time before pulling back to extricate himself from the bed, "I'll change 'em, sweetheart. You go get in the shower, it's right across the hall."

You slip out of bed on shaky legs, losing your balance a bit and having to grab on to Joel's bed side table for support. You both laugh, and you find comfort in the casual intimacy of it all - both of you standing there naked without any shame or embarrassment. It's strange and new but so refreshing, that familiar safe feeling warming your skin as you make your way to the bathroom. You pick up your discarded nightdress as you go.

You stare at yourself in Joel's bathroom mirror for a bit longer than necessary, eyes wide as they trail up and down your bare form. Splotches cover different parts of your skin, especially your breasts, nipples swollen and dark, not to mention covered in come. You feel an ache between your legs again at the sight and almost roll your eyes at yourself - when will you stop being this insatiable?

Unable to push down the urge to do so, you carefully drag one of your fingers through the layer of white splattered across your chest, fascinated by its sticky texture. He'd marked you, in more ways than one.

The shower is pleasant and relatively quick; you want to get back in Joel's arms as soon as possible. You try not to think too much about the implication of that desire, the safety you feel when you're with him versus the anxiety you feel when you're not and what exactly that means. You try to remind yourself of your roommates and their experiences, their ability to sleep around without catching feelings or getting attached. How do they do it? How do they do it when being close to another person like this is so intimate and special?

You change back into the nightdress after your shower and slip back into Joel's room, finding him laying in the freshly made bed beneath a new duvet. For a moment you think he might be sleeping, quietly shutting the door behind you and tiptoeing over to the bed. However when you get close enough he opens his eyes and looks at you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"Hey there," he murmurs, reaching down to pull back the blankets on the other side - your side, "Get on in."

Your heart pounds harder than it probably should.

Climbing into bed beside Joel feels surprisingly normal, easy. You wriggle underneath the duvet and cuddle in beside him, immediately wrapping an arm around his solid form and nuzzling your head against his shoulder. He's wearing his pajama pants again but his torso is still bare, the hair on his chest tickling your skin. You feel him press a soft kiss to your hairline and you can't help but smile.

"I'm glad I came over," you whisper with a content sigh, "I was... I was starting to worry you didn't want me."

"Really?" he asks softly, brow furrowing, "Why's that?"

You shake your head and nuzzle in deeper, "Just me being self conscious and insecure, as usual."

His hand comes up to rub your back soothingly, circling it with his palm through your thin nightdress. He pulls you in a bit closer, kisses your forehead again with a bit more firmness.

"It's normal to feel that way," he murmurs against your skin, "But I do want you, babygirl. You're all I think about lately, I mean that." You shiver at his words, closing your eyes and willing yourself to believe that he really does mean them like he says. "Most beautiful little thing I've had in my bed for a long time."

You press a gentle kiss to his collarbone in response, nose trailing along the skin. He didn't shower but you're sort of glad he didn't; he still smells like sex, a deep masculine musk that you can only attribute to him now, a scent that makes you feel safe.

"I just feel bad...making us sneak around and all that," you admit, "I know it's childish and silly, but I'm so scared of disappointing my parents. I shouldn't be but I am."

"You're young," he says softly, tenderly, "That kinda stuff still matters, especially when you're livin' with them. I get it, honey. You don't have to defend yourself."

You grimace against his skin, "I just wish this could be more normal. That you could just be a guy I'm seeing instead of my guitar teacher," you shake your head, "It's not fair."

He pulls you in even closer with a soft chuckle, "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm lookin' forward to teachin' you how to play."

You make a face, "Hymns," you say with a roll of your eyes, "You're teaching me how to play hymns. I don't see anything exciting or sexy about that."

"We'll make it sexy," he murmurs, inching his face downward so it's more level with yours, eyes casting down to your lips, "Thought you were my good little Christian girl."

All thoughts suddenly seem arbitrary when he's looking at you like that, your gaze immediately going hazy as he leans in and kisses you deep, pushes his tongue inside your mouth softly and tastes you. You hum against his mouth as a response, thighs tightening together as if on instinct the second you feel yourself begin to throb again.

"Are you?" he asks huskily when he pulls away, eyes dark but tired, "Are you my good little Christian girl, baby?"

You nod, swallowing down your arousal, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

"You gonna let me touch you while I teach you guitar?"

You nod again, biting back a whimper, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

His eyes dart back down to your lips, hand on your back traveling downward to cup your bare ass beneath the nightdress, "You gonna let me fuck that soft little pussy while you play one of your hymns?"

"Yes, Mr. Miller," you repeat, leaning forward to bury your face in his warm skin and inhale him again, moan softly against the hair on his chest, "Yes."

He squeezes your ass for a moment and then brings his hand back up, pulls you to him and wraps his arms around you tightly, "See, babygirl?" he whispers, "Told you we'll make it sexy."

--

Joel's alarm wakes you around six, rousing you from one of the best sleeps of your life. You open your eyes groggily, feeling him lean over you in bed to turn it off, warm chest brushing your arm. You roll over in bed and cuddle into him again, humming sleepily to yourself when he pulls you in close.

"I gotta get ready for work," he murmurs gently into your hair, "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you when it's time to go."

You frown sleepily but don't have the energy to protest, eyes closing again as you melt back into his pillow. You feel him release you from his embrace and press a kiss to your forehead, a simple reminder that this isn't some dream you're having, it's somehow reality. You smile and fall asleep again within seconds.

--

He wakes you up again after about half an hour, seats himself on the edge of his bed and strokes your hair. You peer up at him with a sleepy and satisfied expression, unable to stop the words that fall immediately from your lips:

"Kiss me."

He doesn't need convincing, still thumbing your hair behind your ear as he leans down and kisses you softly, bumps your nose against his and lets your tongue lazily explore his mouth, tasting mouthwash. You sigh contentedly, pulling back to smile at him while he strokes your cheek.

"Sleep good?" he asks you softly.

You nod, remembering the closeness the two of you had shared all night, the soft hugs and tender cuddles, the quiet intimacy you've never experienced with anyone else. "Amazing," you whisper.

He kisses you again before you get out of bed, then takes your hand as he leads you downstairs. You grab your jacket on the way out of his bedroom, still hanging on the back of his door. You look down at yourself as you both reach the top of the stairs, realizing there's no way you'll be able to walk home in an outfit like this without certainly being accosted by a nosy neighbor.

You push down your worry when you reach the kitchen, unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face when you see that the kitchen table is set with breakfast; scrambled eggs and bacon.

"You made me breakfast?" you ask in awe, looking from the food to Joel and back again.

He laughs, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup, "I did," he says with a smile, "And as much as I'd love for us to just sit and enjoy it," he looks down at his watch with a grimace as he takes a sip of coffee, "we have about ten minutes before I gotta drive you home and then get to work."

You sit down at the table, picking up your fork and immediately digging into the eggs, "You're gonna drive me home?"

He seats himself across from you, watching you enjoy what he'd cooked with a fond smile, "Can't have you walkin' home in that tiny little thing, can I?" he says teasingly, "Your parents would wring my neck."

You groan, "Oh god, please don't even joke about that. If they knew..."

He just chuckles and starts to eat, looking up every now and then to give you one of those crinkly-eyed crooked smiles that makes you weak. You smile through mouthfuls of food and feel your skin alight every time you feel his gaze on you.

"I don't usually eat this fast, I promise," you say through a mouthful of bacon, covering your mouth, "It's only 'cause we're on a time crunch."

He shakes his head, still smiling, "You're so damn cute."

You try your hardest not to reach across the table and pull him toward you for a kiss.

--

The drive from his house to yours is extremely short, no less than two minutes. Still, you enjoy the short time you spend in his truck, his big hand spread out on your bare thigh while he hums along to a tune on the radio and gives you soft little sideways glances that makes your heart flutter. You can't help but feel like someone else when you're with him, someone more carefree and outgoing, happier and more experienced. It's only when you slowly near your house that you realize maybe this person is who you really are.

"Stop here," you tell Joel with a grimace, still a few houses away, "My parents are still home."

"How're you gonna get in?" he asks with an edge of concern to his voice, eyeing your house, "Think you can climb the fence?"

You bite your lip, "Probably. I've never done it before but I don't have much choice," you lean your head against the backrest in irritation, "God, why did I choose now to rebel? I coulda learned how to do all this shit when I was a kid if I hadn't been so obsessed with being perfect."

He gives you a sympathetic look, thumb stroking your thigh reassuringly, "I'll stay right here 'til you're inside."

You yearn to lean over the small space between you and kiss him, but you know there's always a risk of a neighbor coming out of their house and seeing you. Instead, you place your hand atop the one on your thigh and squeeze his fingers gently, giving him a small smile.

"I had a really nice night," you say quietly, unsure how exactly this kind of thing is done, "And morning."

"So did I, sweetheart," he replies, voice tender, "We'll do it again, promise."

With one final squeeze of his hand you slip out of his truck, tying your jacket around your waist to cover up your legs a bit. It leaves your upper half more exposed than you'd like, your eyes going wide when you realize how much cleavage this nightdress really shows.

"Here," Joel says, understanding your reaction immediately, "Wear this on top." Without giving you any time to protest he's unbuckling himself to undo his plaid button down, shirking it off his shoulders and handing it to you. It leaves him in a t-shirt and jeans, your eyes trailing to his strong arms without meaning to, the arms that had held you close all night.

"Thank you," you murmur, brow furrowing a bit, "You're sure?"

He smiles crookedly and buckles up again, "I'm sure, angel. You keep that."

Your heart flutters as you wrap his shirt around you, slipping your arms into the much too long sleeves and inhaling the scent of him - your new favorite smell - surrounding you. You're never getting rid of this. Ever.

With a wave you hurry down the sidewalk, feeling slightly ridiculous in your layered and baggy outfit but relieved that you're covered up. You eye the tall white fence of your backyard, trying to formulate a plan in your head as you go. Hop the fence, get a ladder from the tool shed and climb up to your bedroom? But did you even leave your window open? You can't help but feel rage in your chest for your parents rules, the curfew, all the nonsense you've been living with for your entire life. Why the fuck don't you have a fucking key to your own fucking house?

You can feel Joel's eyes on you when you reach the fence, still sitting in his truck a few houses down.

Please, God, you think to yourself as you slip one of your sneakers in between the fence posts and yank yourself up, I know I've sinned. I know I'm a mess. And I'm not even sure I really believe in you anymore. But please, if you're there, don't let me make a fool of myself in front of Joel Miller.

Surprisingly, your prayer seems to work. Climbing up the fence is relatively easy; you keep an eye out for your neighbors as you quickly pull yourself over and flop down on the other side, extremely grateful that neither your jacket nor Joel's shirt gets caught on anything. You hurry to the tool shed, eyeing your bedroom window as you go and feeling beyond relieved when you see that it's wide open; God bless Texan summers.

You decide to wait inside the tool shed until your parents are gone, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself with the ladder. You close the door behind you and sink to the concrete floor, heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what you've just done overwhelms you.

You snuck out to see a man. You slept in his bed. He drove you home so you could sneak back in.

Quiet laughter fills the tool shed, all coming from your own mouth. You grin to yourself and shake your head in the darkness, leaning back against the door and closing your eyes. Who are you? Who is this new person you've become? You don't know, but you love her.

You find yourself pulling your phone out of your jacket pocket and typing out a new message, but this time it's not to Joel - it's to your friends from college:

i think i'm officially a bad girl.

[earthtooz]

BABE I HAD AN IDEA- Reo Mikage ANGST where he calls reader a gold digging whore in the middle of an argument, ultimately affirming all of her insecurities so he has to figure out a way to show that he didn't mean it and that he's sorry without using his disgustingly abundant wealth 💔 anyways ilysm hope you take care of yourself

NO YOU ARE LITERALLY DISGUSTING FOR THIS (affectionate) YOUR MIND >>> YOU ARE SOOOOO RIGHT. SHUT UP THIS WILL LITERALLY BE THE MOST SCRUMPTIOUS FIC EVER BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY ABOUT TO PUT MY WHOLE EARTHUSSY INTO INCORPORATING THIS IDEA SOMEWHERE !!! BUT FOR NOW, TAKE THIS SNIPPET I WHIPPED UP IN ONE SITTING.

girl feel free to come back into my inbox WHENEVER and giving me your juicy ideas bc holy shit i loved this.

CW: HURT/COMFORT - A LOT OF BOTH, SWEARING, UNEDITED - I WAS GOING THRU IT WHILST WRITING THIS DON'T LOOK AT ME!

IMAGINE THIS: it's been a rough night for both you and reo, he's been through a lot in the past weeks because his dad just had to during the middle of soccer season to lecture reo about how to run a big business. the transition process is beginning to happen since father mikage is about to retire and although your purple-haired boyfriend has been preparing for this his whole life, having gone to business school part-time and graduating with honours, there's still a little part of him that feels weary from all the responsibilities.

all this accumulated stress needs to have an outlet eventually, right? welp, you just happened to be there at the right (wrong) time. you were simply delivering a platter of apples to your boyfriend who had his head in his hands, hunched over an endless pile of paperwork that was beginning to irk him with each passing second. countless images of him shredding up the paper flowed into his mind, a fury that manifested into his reality, except the paper was you D,:

one thing evolved into another, reo's endless stream of venomous words didn't stop flowing out of him as he spat poison after poison, burning you with the intensity of it all.

"you're so overbearing, can't you see that i'm fine? unlike you i can handle myself when things get hard," he spits, eyeing you with fury in his eyes, one that makes you gulp thickly.

"reo-"

-but you wouldn't know the first thing about fighting for what you want right, you fucking gold-digger."

that stops you in your tracks, silences you effortlessly, causing you to let your hands drop limply back to your sides as you stare at your boyfriend blankly. you're sinking into an abyss of hurt and insecurity, it's getting harder to breathe because of the way your chest swells with anger.

reo only continues, not noticing the way you physically and emotionally drop. "even if you don't give me attention for one second of the day, i won't forget you exist, so stop being so clingy and unnecessary! my money isn't going anywhere either, you don't need to occupy majority of my day so leave me alone. go shop online or something."

that was it. was that all reo perceived you to be? a dent in his money, the expenses of his bank account?

"fine. goodbye," you simply mutter before slipping through his office door, out in the hallway.

"don't bother me whilst i'm in here," he says with finality, one last declaration before you shut the door behind you.

the luxurious walls of reo's penthouse look down at you mockingly, the spacious area caging you in, chanting 'gold-digger' over and over again until it's all you hear.

staying here feels wrong.

so, you grab your purse and leave, as quietly as possible. slipping down to the garage where your (second hand) car was parked, you start the engine up and begin reversing out of the parking lot.

you begin to reflect on your relationship with reo. you love him, you really do, you love him because he's reo, the man who was always capable of making you smile, laugh, and make you feel like you were on top of the world. his money and fame was an added bonus that you truly didn't care much about.

but ever since dating him, you've had your own insecurities that have been forced on you by other people. there were crowds calling you a 'gold digger' who was only with reo 'for the money', and although you were sure of yourself and your intentions, your armour breaks down sometimes.

what reo said tonight was the final jab that allowed it to fully disintegrate.

you had a stable job of your own and finances to your own name, money wasn't something you avidly chased, sure having a few zeroes in your bank account was nice but that was all you really needed. as long as you could buy necessities and spoil yourself, it was satisfactory, and you could provide that for yourself!

reo loved to spoil you, showering you in luxurious gifts that you never knew how to accept. it would take a great deal of convincing for you to take what he bought you, and when you promised him to stop buying them for you, he agreed before buying you more material stuff.

as you pull up to the parking lot of the apartment complex that you resided in, you get into the elevator with a heavy heart, pressing the button to your floor with a lot of emotions.

the ride is silent. everything is so silent.

your apartment is even more silent. it's unused, slightly barren. your furniture was still there, except some dust had gathered on the tables and cabinets from how long you've neglected it.

the only reason you were able to keep your apartment was because you had no expenses outflowing since reo took care of almost everything. anything you needed, he bought it, groceries, bills, whatever, were charged on his card. for a period of time, your bank account merely grew and never decreased.

and since you hadn't been here for a while, electricity and water bills never bothered you too much.

you flop onto your made bed with a sigh. it wasn't as soft as reo's but you didn't find it in you to care, you just needed some well-deserved shut eye.

well, 'shut eye' occurred for merely an hour before your phone started vibrating violently.

with a groan, you shove your face back into your pillows before blindly reaching for your phone.

you already knew who it would be without looking at the caller id. of course reo would be looking for you, noting your obvious absence in his penthouse.

"hello?" you mutter.

"y/n? where the hell are you?" comes reo's frantic voice from the other line. he sounds genuinely concerned.

"doesn't matter."

"i'm sorry for everything i said. please, come back."

"reo, i'm tired, i can't do this with you right now."

"i'm sorry, i'm really really sorry."

"i don't want to hear this right now."

"i love you."

you sigh and you're sure reo can hear it on his end. unsure of how to respond, you just hang up on him before throwing your phone away. normally, you would feel bad about the way you left him, but that wasn't the case this time. you just needed to sleep on this.

but, it was reo you were talking about, and the last thing he was going to let you do was sleep without him.

at 1:24am, there's a series of ferocious knocks on your door, followed by screams of your name.

oh my god it was so embarrassing, you literally shoot out of bed as soon as you register what was happening and dash for your door. you don't want to disturb your neighbours' sleep and let them hear that the pathetic grovelling of your boyfriend. the entire hallway could hear reo and his shouting.

you open the door, pull him in, and slam it shut behind you again, leaving the purple-haired to stare at you with a bewildered expression.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss.

he looks at you the same way a puppy does when its owner kicked it out of the house.

you should've known that merely telling reo 'i don't want to hear this right now' would not be enough to pacify his determination and the fact that you hung up on him only intensified his pettiness. the purple-haired always sought you out, pulling himself into your orbit like a magnet. where you went, reo followed, even if it was to the ends of the world.

he had the money to do whatever he wanted, you suppose.

"i wanted to make sure you were safe," he pouts. "i didn't know whether you'd be here or not."

"well, i'm safe, and i'm here. so."

"i can see that," he leans against the back of your couch. reo looks so out of place in your small apartment, awkwardly playing with his hands. "so... should we go to bed?"

the audacity. "what do you mean 'we'? go back home, reo, i'll see you some other time."

as you turn around to go back to your bedroom, reo's quick enough to round around you, blocking you from the hallway with his larger figure.

"but you are my home. please, i'm really sorry about what i said, i didn't mean it," he pleads, grabbing your face so you could look him square in the eye.

you step out of his grasp easily, shaking him off. if you were in your right mind, you would've seen the look of heartbreak on reo's face.

"sure, if you didn't mean it then you wouldn't have said it in the first place, mikage."

you swerve around him to reach your bedroom and he follows you the entire time, trailing behind you, desperate for an ounce of your attention.

"i know i fucked up, but i didn't mean to hurt you and project my frustrations like that onto you when you were just trying to care for me." you sit down on your bed with a sigh and reo takes a seat beside you. "you know i love you right? like, a lot."

that's right. if there's one thing about reo it's that he loves you to an endless degree.

"thank you for always caring for me. i know you don't do it because you're after my money or fame, but because you want to ensure that i'm healthy and not rotting in all that i have to do," his voice cracks. is he beginning to cry. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

you let a beat of silence pass by before dropping your walls. he was always going to smash through them no matter what.

"i've always felt insecure in our relationship," you confess, no louder than an exhale and if reo wasn't holding on to every action of yours, he wouldn't have heard you. "being called a gold digger became normal when i started dating you and i didn't really care. well- i tried not to care."

you continue. "i don't want to let these comments get to me, but then you said it and... i don't know, it just felt horrible."

you feel an arm sneak under your leg, and another hand come to your elbow, both of which simultaneously pull you to straddle reo's lap. you don't look him in the eye- something he frowns at.

"i love you for you. you're the best i'll ever have, reo, but sometimes i-"

"-please don't finish that sentence," he murmurs, breath fanning against your face.

you meet his gaze. he's crying freely. tears are running down his cheeks like streams and you instinctively bring use your thumbs to catch the drops. you hate it when he cries.

"i don't want it to be anyone else but you," confesses the purple-haired. "i hate it when we're separated, i can't stay away from you too long or i think i will go insane."

his statement causes you to giggle a little.

"you laugh but i'm telling the truth."

"i laugh because you make me happy."

his arms wound around your waist, keeping you pressed against him, leaving you with no room to escape or part from him. just what reo likes.

"i'm sorry for what i said," he says against your collarbone. "when i didn't see you in our home, i didn't know what to think. i got so scared for a second because i had no idea where you could've gone so i started spamming your number-"

"-yeah wait, was calling me 24 times necessary?"

"i was going to keep calling you until you picked up so it could've taken 24 or 1000 times or more. now let me speak." you nod wordlessly, smiling a little at how silly reo can be. "and when i realised that you went back to your apartment, i felt horrible that i drove you out."

he looks up at you with glossy eyes.

"you came here because you wanted to prove me wrong, right? because you bought all this by yourself and don't need me, right?"

"well, kind of, but i also didn't want to be around you so i came back here."

reo frowns before leaning in to press delicate kisses to your neck. "please don't leave me. i need you by my side," he inhales before whispering his next statement. "even if you don't need me."

a hand of yours go up to thread through his hair. "don't say that," you use your other hand to direct his face away from your neck, pressing a kiss against his puckered lips. "i absolutely adore you, my love. you're my favourite person ever."

he smiles before leaning in again, kissing you with more fervour and passion. you can feel another tear slide down his cheek.

"lets go to bed, reo," you say when you part and he simply nods, laying you on the side of the bed before laying beside you, arms naturally finding themselves around your waist as reo tugs you as humanely close as possible. "sorry if this mattress isn't as comfortable as your twelve grand one back home."

"i couldn't care less," he whispers whilst tracing patterns on your bare skin.

so long as it's you he's next to, reo doesn't have a lot to complain about.

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Favorite boy in the Valley ꒱

Pairing - Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Synopsis - Eli's doubting your relationship so you have to confirm some things for him.

Includings - S1!Eli no Hawk, insecurities, crying, embarrassed and blushing Eli, lots of kisses, words of affirmation, small bits of angst, a bunch of fluff

An - First post back with a new fixation! All tags used are fandoms I write for so feel free to request anything

And if anybodys interested I'm currently writing a Scream Au!Cobra Kai on quotev under the same name I use on here

Eli had been a bit off lately and it was starting to worry you.

Eli was generally a quiet person, he had been that way since you met him and he still was. But even given his quiet nature if there was a topic he was interested in and the right people were talking about it he would add in an opinion or two.

And he would be more than happy to rant to you of all people about a new series he had started up or to talk about one of the movies you recommended to him so that the two of you could gush about it and share opinions, but recently he had been a lot quieter.

You shut your locker, smiling over at the dirty blonde. "So, have you watched clueless yet? The fashion in that is-"

"Uh..no, sorry. I was...uhm...busy." He interrupted, staring down at his feet at the lie he told, he watched it twice and wanted nothing more than to go on and on about it.

You rose a brow, head tilting slightly as you stared at him with a look that almost made him call his bluff. "Busy?"

He just nodded quietly.

Then about a week ago, when you asked him if he wanted to come over after school to do a Marvel marathon he had quickly declined, saying that he had other plans and before you could ask what those plans were he went to go talk to Demetri.

He would usually walk you to class, everybody saying that wherever you were he had to be somewhere close by but recently as you waited outside your classroom for him he would be nowhere to found and that made your heart sink a little bit.

"Hey, you weren't outside my English class to walk me to culinary today." You frowned, setting your lunch tray next to his and taking your seat. "I wanted to tell you that I aced my essay..."

Eli glanced over at you and moved his nail from between his teeth. A nasty habit you had been trying to get him to stop doing for months and you were real close until he started becoming distant.

"I was just...just rushing to get to Chemistry. I had a really important test and wanted to get some extra study time in." He explained and you slowly nodded, deciding not to bring up the fact that his test was tomorrow.

He also stopped holding your hand, the first thing he could make the first move on, something he could confidently do if he was feeling nervous or just wanted to touch you. Normally he would hold it as he walked you to your classes or even when the two of you were sitting together at lunch but he started to pull his hand away or shove it into his pocket.

And what really got you was when he started denying your kisses. At first you thought it would just be by accident or he didn't want a kiss at the moment since he was still getting comfortable with PDA but you soon realized that he was dodging your kisses, tilting and moving his head when you leaned in.

It was all really confusing. You didn't understand why he was acting like this and it left you wondering if you had did something wrong. Maybe you had done something that made him upset with you?

You sighed, leaning onto Demetri's shoulder. "Its like when we first met all over again, Dem. He's just been so distant and I don't know whats the matter. Has he been acting different with you?"

"No, he hasnt." Demetri bluntly answered, shaking his head while his eyes stayed focused on the homework you let out a long sigh. "Then it's me, I have to be the problem."

The brunette sighed, putting his pencil down and turning his head to look at you, nearly giving you a death glare. "Look, you just need to talk to him, alright? He's probably going through another one of his slumps and needs some reassurance."

You had groaned, rubbing your hand along your face. "Of course, why hadn't you thought of that before? "Thanks, Dem! You're so good at giving advice, can't believe I didn't think that. God I'm dumb sometimes."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know I am and I know you are. Now, can we please finish our homework now that you're done moping?"

"[Y/n], Eli didn't tell me you were coming."

You smiled up at his mother as you held a new copy of the comic book Eli had ranted about a while ago along with a bag of some of his favorite snacks. "Yeah, I wanted to surprise him."

"Well he's upstairs in his room." She hummed, closing the door behind you as you walked up the stairs and down the hall to the boy's room, lifting your knuckles up to knock on the door.

There was a bit of shuffling before the door opened and Eli's eyes were wide with surprise upon seeing you. "[Y/n]? What..What are you doing here?"

"I just really need to talk to you. Can I come in, please?"

He seemed hesitant at first before reluctantly nodded and opened his door all the way. You set the things you brought for him on the table then walked over to sit across from him on his bed.

You looked at him, staring into his eyes as you reached out to grab his hand and rubbed your thumb over the back of it. "Eli, talk to me. What's the matter? What's going on?"

"It's nothing-" He started but you weren't buying it, obviously. "Eli we both know that's a lie. You haven't really been yourself lately and I just need to know why. I'm here for you. Is it something that I've done or anything I can fix?"

"Unless you can fix me being a freak, no, you can't."

Your face softened as you held onto his hand a little tighter. "Eli, you're not-"

He shook his head, pulling his hands away from yours. "No! Don't. Don't say that! I don't wanna hear this whole 'you're not a freak' talk again I'm so sick of it!"

The way his voice started to crack made your heart sink as you saw that his eyes were starting to water, fresh tears threatening to spill.

"Kyler said something that...that just really got me thinking. Saying that he didn't know how a girl like...like you gave a nerd with a weird lip...lip a chance." Eli swallowed the lump starting in his throat because he was going to start crying rethinking of the conversation.

"He started talking about how much better you could've done. Better like somebody like...like him." He sniffled, his fingers brushing against his scar as he looked everywhere but you when he spoke.

"And then I started to think he was...was right. You could do so much better than some nerd with a freaky l..lip." His voice wobbled as he stared down at his bedsheets.

"Eli. Eli, look at me." While the boy shook his head you reached up to grab the sides of his face, wiping away the tears with your thumbs that were starting to fall down his cheeks.

You sighed, frowning softly. "Look, I don't care what anybody else says, okay? Kyler was wrong because there's no better choice. I mean, is there any other boy at school who would listen to my constant complaining about Mrs.Carter?"

Eli had stayed quiet as you continued. "Would any other boy let me ramble about [f/superhero] and not call me a nerd?"

Silence.

You weren't done though. "Would some jerk like Kyler deal with my long shopping trips and help me carry all my bags around?"

Continuing you had smiled softly up at him. "Oh and I'm one hundred percent sure none of those guys would watch silly chick flicks with me and actually like them."

He shrugged his shoulders and you smiled, pressing your lips against the his cheek in a short yet sweet kiss and he winced, feeling the stickiness from your lipgloss. "And no other boy here is as breathtaking as you."

Your smile grew more as you saw the tips of his ears turning pink and he turned his head away slightly, looking up and away at his ceiling. "[Y/n].."

"I'm serious, Eli. You're so very pretty. I love and adore everything about you."

He avoided eye contact with you, trying to pull his face from your hands but you only hummed while pressing kisses all over his face and leaving shiny kiss marks along it.

"Your eyes alone just make me melt, y'know? I'm real jealous of how your lashes look better than mine." You giggled, placing a kiss right above his brow.

"[Y/n], stop..." He mumbled, his cheeks now being a color that would put any blush set to shame and you shook your head.

"You have a beautiful nose. I love staring at your side profile, it's just perfect." You complimented, kissing the bridge of his nose before your eyes trailed down.

You reached up, tracing your finger along the scar. "And like I've said before I love your scar. I could kiss you a million times and never get grossed out by it.

At that you leaned forward, pressing your lips right against his scar and you could feel his hands squeezing at the bottom of your shirt, fists squeezing tightly around the fabric before you moved down and captured his slightly chapped lips with your own. While you leaned into the kiss you could feel Eli's grip slowly lighten as he leaned into the kiss.

Eli was a burning mess in a the face when you kissed his scar, closing his eyes at the feeling while holding tightly onto your shirt as if you would go anywhere. Feeling you place felt your soft lips on his own partially chapped ones he was like putty in your hands, practically liquefying.

When you pulled away you giggled at the residue of gloss that came from your lips and that was now all over Eli's face and his own lips, smiling as the boy rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, his shoulders rising and falling while he panted softly.

"So no, there's no boy in this valley I'd rather be with." You confirmed, wrapping your arms and he laid back allowing you to lay your head against his chest, finding a sort of comfort listening to his heartbeat.

You hummed softly, reaching a hand up to play with the tuffs of his hair and the two of you laid there in comfortable silence and you peered up to stare at him to see that he was already staring at you.

"You...You really mean it? All that stuff you said earlier?" He questioned, his voice coming off as a whisper and you lifted your head up.

You sat up on his lap, furrowing your brows at him while staring at him with an incredulous expression. "Do I need to repeat myself? Kisses and all?"

"I...I don't know...I don't think I really got it." Eli gave a sheepish smile, messing with the hem of your shirt."

"Maybe...uhm...a couple more kisses and it might click?" He quietly suggested and stared up at you through his eyelashes, his lips parting a bit.

And how could you say no to such a pretty face like that?

[yanfeiimain]

"Sure, I'll play along" - Aventurine x Reader

c/w: not nsfw, suggestive at most! Aventurine saving you from your ex. strong language used.

words: 1.3k

a/n: I was literally playing, farming character exp and his voice line made my brain go boom. I'm still working on flip a coin tho so this isnt necesarily perfect >.< Possible part 2 with smut??

You were sitting at the casino's bar, nervously playing around with your glass. you look around carefully, checking if he followed you. There were no faces you knew. You let out a shaky breath. The bartender shoots you a glance but you pay her no mind.

As someone sits down next to you, you jump and get ready to leave. "Just leave me alone asshole. I don't-" you say, wanting to escape as fast as possible.

"There's no need to be so mean." a young man says, giving a male bartender a note. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to! I thought you were someone else…" you excuse yourself. You look at the man next to you, admiring his features. He has pretty blonde hair and captivating eyes. Your gaze lingers. And he notices.

"It's okay, don't worry." He says, smirking. "You got problems?" 

You sit back down, sighing, "Well, kinda, but what's it to you?" You continue nipping on your drink, not too sure of what to think of him. 

"Oh, nothing really, you just piqued my interest, dear," he says, "I mean, you just tried to cuss me out..." He fakes a hurt expression, swiftly changing back to his charming grin. 

He makes you smile a little, and you finally give in. "You want me to tell you about it, huh..." You take the final sip of your drink and put the glass back down. 

"Mhh, I bet it's interesting," he smirks, something glinting in his eyes. "Oh no, it's rather sad, honestly. Would you tell me your name first, though?" you ask, tilting your head slightly. You notice his fancy outfit, taking note of his extraordinary taste.

"Aventurine, pleasure to meet you..." - "y/n." - "Dearest y/n." 

They way Aventurine said your name made it sound oddly special. He certainly had a silver tounge. You feel your cheeks heat up, smiling a little wider, "Likewise, Aventurine." 

"Alright, y/n, tell me your story," he says and orders two more drinks for you both. You breathe and start telling him about your ex-fiance and how he treated you at the end of your relationship. He manipulated you and made you feel horrible. He used you as his personal servant, and every time you both went out, he belittled you and made you feel small. After a lot of thinking and gathering courage, you finally called off the engagement and left him. 

"And that's why you're so paranoid, I understand." He says, looking into your eyes. It makes you blush and feel slightly exposed. "Yeah... He's been following me, well, stalking me. Trying to get me to go back to him." Aventurine gently puts his gloved hand onto yours, and you admire his rings.

After a moment, you decided to break the silence, "Ah, but enough about me. What brings you here?" 

Aventurine hums, smiling once again, "Interested are we? But there's no special reason. I'm just here to gamble and I bet I'll win something good tonight."  He says it so nonchalantly like it's his daily life. It made sense, this is a casino after all. And there is this glint in his eyes again as he looks at you, clearly interested.

You both continue talking and order a few more drinks. The bartender watches you and probably has been listening in on your conversations but you, as well as Aventurine, pay it no mind. As the night progresses, you relax. 

However, just as you got comfortable, the alcohol playing its part, a tall figure enters the casino. You only noticed as he joins you and Aventurine at the bar, ignoring the latter. "Shit, that's him" you whisper, slightly nervous.

"Aventurine, could you help me out if he tries anything?" you feel insecure, basically asking a stranger to help you with your creepy ex. "Sure, I'll play along." Aventurine smiles. It was softer this time.

"Hey there, sweetheart, enjoying your night?" The guy on your right, your ex, says playfully, yet his face tells a different tale. He is annoyed, no, absolutely pissed off. "Oh, for the love of god, leave." you scowl. 

"Why should I? C'mon, I'm giving you one last chance to go back home with me, no consequences." he offers, but you know his disingenuous tone too well. "No way. Forget it. We are over." you deny him.

Looking to Aventurine for help, you blurt out, "And I'm already with someone who doesn't treat me like shit!" Proving your statement, Aventurine wraps his arm around you, his fingers grab your waist possessively. "Yes, that's right." 

"And who are you, peacock?" Your ex asks, looking at Aventurine with disgust, yet amusement.  "Aventurine, her lover," the blonde lies with ease, his face adorned with the usual smirk he wore so often that night.

"You whore, already sleeping around again? Have you forgotten who owns you?" he spits, insulting you like usual. The bartender starts to giggle. "Relax dude, they only just met. There's no way he would ever be with a gal like her." Aventurine shoots her a deathly glare and your ex laughs. 

"Oh my god, you are an embarresment. Get your lying ass out of here and come with me. And you, Aventurine, you should leave your dirty claws off of someone else's property." your ex scoffs.

"Ahaha... lovely but we're not playing pretend, are we?" Aventurine laughs and promptly pulls you onto his lap. You feel your stomach twist and heat creeps onto your cheeks. You now sit on his lap, facing him. You feel his soft breath on your neck as he pulls you to his chest.

"Right, darling?" You could feel his heartbeat quicken and Aventurine felt yours. "Of course not," you manage to breathe out. He lifts your chin with his gloved hand, you can feel the cold rings on your skin. They send shivers down your spine. 

Aventurine pulls you into a heated kiss, his soft lips moving against yours and you gasp in surprise, not expecting him to go so far. You melt into the kiss, completely giving in to the blonde. 

Your ex simply stares at you, his mouth slightly agape.  "Tch, that doesn't prove anything." Pretending it doesn't faze him, he rolls his eyes, the bartender scoffs as well and leaves.

You break the kiss, gasping for air. Aventurine smirks complacently and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Whatever you say, friend." 

"Fine, have her. Just know that she is a filthy and unfaithful brat." With that, he turns around. "And this isn't over yet."

You let out a sigh of relief. He is finally gone. "What an asshole..." Aventurine mutters, making you realize what just happened.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry! I asked for your help but you didn't have to go this far. I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable. I apologize! How could I ever thank you..." you ramble but Aventurine just cups your face and gives you a second, soft kiss. 

"No need to apologize, y/n. To be honest, I thoroughly enjoyed this night. It was certainly a nice surprise." He gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb, reassuring you. "As for how to thank me... There's no need." 

Your eyes widened, "Ah well, I'm glad you felt that way. But... Are you sure? You want nothing in return?" He shook his head, resting his other hand back on your waist. "Although, there is something you could do for me. If you want, that is." 

He grins mischievously. To be honest, he finds you alluring and wants to know get to know you. 

"Sure, what is it?" you ask, genuinely interested. "Spend the night with me."

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Grays II

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays - Part I | Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, matchmaking elements, meddlesome mother, lots of teasing, not-quite-friends to lovers dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, oral sex (F and M receiving), protected sex, dirty talk.

Word count: 8.5k

Notes: It's here - 4 months later! First of all, thank you so much for the love for Grays Part I. I still can't quite believe the reaction to Frankie and Shiv, you guys sure know how to make a writer feel special 🥰 This one was so much fun to write, and nervous as I am posting this follow-up, I'm telling myself to let go of my insecurities and just enjoy it because that's what it's all about. I hope y'all will have a good time at this wedding with the gang 😘

Francisco Morales likes to think of himself as a reasonably competent man. 

He can pilot a helicopter under intense enemy fire. He can take out a target from miles away in the tightest of spots. 

But he can’t do his fucking hair.

He glares at himself in the mirror. He can’t put his finger on it, it just doesn’t look like how you did it. He’s already washed it out and started over twice, and for a second, he considers driving to your salon. A quick glance at his watch tells him it’s far too late for that now.

Leaning over the sink, he says to his reflection, ‘Focus, pendejo. You can do it.’

He’s a pilot for fuck’s sake. He’s a man of procedure, he can follow steps. He just needs to break it down.

Hair half-dry - check.

Hair mousse applied - check.

Now he just needs to dry his hair all the way and style it - but the how is where it gets hazy. 

Frankie closes his eyes and casts his mind back to your salon. He’s sitting in the chair and you’re standing behind him. He wills himself to recall what you were doing with your hands, but all he remembers is the scrape of your of your fingertips on his scalp, the ghost of your breath on the back of his neck, and then -

Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.

He scrubs a frustrated palm down his face when his cock twitches in his haphazardly ironed dress pants, not for the first time… hell, not even the fourth time since he left your salon on Wednesday afternoon.

‘Goddamnit,’ he bites out, dropping the hairdryer with a clunk and grips the porcelain sink. He needs to calm the fuck down. 

He didn’t ask for - this, whatever this is. You’re you. You’re Shiv. The loudmouth with the wild hair he’s known since fifth grade. The fourth wheel at guys’ drinks when Will can’t make it. A relentless tease on a good day, and downright insufferable when you get enough tequila in you.

And quite possibly, the only person who’s ever driven him to the brink of unconsciousness with just the touch of their bare hands.

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe you’re right. It has been a while since he’s been with a woman. He just needs to get laid at the wedding, get this weird tension out of his system. And then hopefully, he’ll be able to go to sleep without being kept up by you telling him to go harder, deeper -

By the time he gets his head out of his ass, it’s too late for second-guessing. He rakes his fingers through his hair, sets it with hairspray, and quickly rubs the beard oil he bought in town yesterday into his whiskers. He takes a moment to look himself over while he clumsily does up the tie he borrowed from Pope.

This is as good as it’s gonna get.

He’s the designated driver tonight. By some miracle, he’s only five minutes late when he cruises into Pope’s driveway, where all three of the boys are waiting and sipping on beers.

‘Damn Fish, you look good,’ crows Santi as he climbs into the passenger seat, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You should get your hair cut at Shiv’s from now on.’

‘Only if you keep paying for it,’ retorts Frankie while he backs out of the driveway. He pauses as he changes gears, and adds in a grumble. ‘She’s making me use shampoo and conditioner.’

Pope barks in laughter, twisting in his seat to give Benny a knowing grin. ‘Someone had to, you caveman.’

The younger Miller brother ribs good-naturedly, ‘You ready for some action tonight, Fish? I brought some extra rubbers just in case.’

Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 

The car erupts with playful jeers, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile as he palms the steering wheel.

‘That’s some fighting talk, Fish!’ goads Santi, punching him on the arm.

Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’

Benny grins. ‘Ok, I see how it is. Let’s make it interesting, Fish. Whoever picks up a one night stand first wins a hundred bucks.’

Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’

Benny chuckles and clasps his shoulder. ‘You’re on, man.’

It’s eight on the dot when you lock up the salon. While you did RSVP for wedding drinks - opting out of the sit-down dinner earlier in the evening - you hadn’t planned on actually going. But it seems like the whole town did, you’ve barely had two customers walk through the door all afternoon. 

So you let Ashton go home early, and after a quick snack, you take your time getting ready. Might as well have a Saturday night out - your first in many months.

The hotel is just a short Uber ride away. When you climb out of the car, you bite your bottom lip at the unfamiliar tension humming under your skin.

Nerves.

You’re nervous.

And worse, you know exactly what you’re nervous about. 

Or more precisely - who.

‘Pull it together, Shiv,’ you mutter under your breath. Steeling yourself, you stride into the hotel.

From his vantage point at the bar, Benny watches in amusement as Frankie glances towards the doors of the reception hall yet again. He doubts the pilot even knows he’s doing it, or at the very least, he doesn’t think that anyone would notice.

Grabbing his beer, Benny sidles up to his friend. ‘Looking for something, Fish?’

Frankie takes a sip of his Coke and feigns nonchalance. ‘Yeah, looking to win that hundred bucks from you.’

‘Dunno ‘bout that. I don’t see you trying very hard.’

‘Biding my time, Miller. Just make sure you have enough cash to -’ 

When Frankie breaks off in the middle of his sentence, Benny doesn’t need to look to wager a guess what caught his attention.

Turning around as you approach, he flings his arms out to give you a hug, eyeing you up and down appreciatively. ‘Babe, look at you all dressed up! Doesn’t she look nice, Fish?’

In lieu of an answer, Frankie stares intently at some invisible spot over your shoulder until Benny elbows him right in his stomach, jerking him out of his trance. ‘Fish?’

Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’

You arch an eyebrow at him. ‘You don’t know if I look nice?’

Benny has to stopper his mouth with beer so he doesn’t laugh out loud at the panic on Frankie’s face as he fumbles for a response. ‘I mean. Um, nice… pants?’

‘It’s a jumpsuit, Morales. Try to keep up,’ you reply and take two steps towards him, which has him backpedalling so fast that he upsets the table behind him, sending half-empty glasses spilling wine all over the white tablecloth.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he growls at you like a cornered stray.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull him upright by his tie. ‘Is he ok, Ben? He’s even jumpier than usual.’

‘Well, it’s a funny night for him. Watching his ex get married and all.’

‘I swear to God, Benjamin Miller, if you don’t shut the fuck up -’ 

‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’

‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.

Smoothing the lapels of his slightly crumpled suit jacket, you probe, ‘You’ve been using shampoo and conditioner like I asked?’

Frankie huffs a dry laugh. ‘I don’t remember you asking.’

‘Someone’s mouthy tonight,’ you tease. ‘And the beard oil?’

He concedes with a sigh. ‘Yes, Shiv.’

‘You look good, Francisco,’ you grin and reach up to push his curls back from his eyes.

He looks away as he admits, ‘Took three fucking tries.’

At least he holds still when you make small adjustments to his hair, shoulders stiff with hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You catch yourself missing the way he leaned into your touch in your salon, and you have to forcefully push that thought away as you push your fingers through the roots to boost the volume. His curls feel softer already than you remember them, with a noticeably healthier sheen. 

After a final rustle to loosen up his fringe, you wink at him. ‘Mark my words, the bride will rue the day she dumped your ass when she sees you.’

A voice from behind you interrupts. ‘It’s a bit too late for that now, isn’t it?’

Trading a look with Frankie, who gives you a sarcastic thumbs up, you put on a smile and turn on your heels. ‘Mrs. Morales, it’s been too long!’

‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.

Frankie’s taunt is so quiet that you nearly miss it. ‘Told you she’d come after you.’

Without skipping a beat, you elbow him in the ribs, ignoring his pained oomph from behind you. ‘You look wonderful tonight, ma’am.’ 

‘You can’t sweet talk your way out of my question, young lady.’

You cross your arms with a sigh. ‘I didn’t dye it because he looks good with the grays.’ 

‘Well, I don’t think so.’

‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.

‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’

Frankie throws his hands up in exasperation. ‘Gee, thanks a lot ma.’

You turn to Benny, who has been silently watching you two spar. ‘What do you think, Miller?’

He dithers, eyes darting around in desperation until he spots Santi and his older brother coming back from the bar. ‘Look! Here are the guys, let’s ask them!’

‘Ask us what?’ asks Santi, giving you a kiss on the cheek and a glass of bubbly.

‘Do you think my son looks good with the grays?’

Your eyebrow twitches when Mrs. Morales carelessly ruffles his hair to emphasise her point. To your surprise, Frankie bats her away with an irritated ma!, before hastily rearranging it.

‘Your honest opinion, if you please,’ you add.

The boys hum and haw, sipping their beers and shooting uncertain looks between you and Mrs. Morales, clearly uncomfortable being caught in the middle. Upping the heat, you narrow your eyes at them, and Will folds first. 

‘Yeah, I mean - he looks good,’ he mumbles, avoiding the Morales matriarch's glare.

‘Pope?’ you prompt.

‘Cabrón rocking those grays,’ he nods supportively.

‘Ben?’

‘Uh huh,’ he replies vaguely, but at your menacing glare, clarifies, ‘Yes, I meant - yes, ma’am.’

Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’

Ah, that’s the easy part. You look around, scanning the crowds - and bingo, you see a brunette staring openly from across the dance floor. You hold up a finger for dramatic effect. ‘Excuse me for one second.’

Frankie looks ready for the earth to swallow him whole by the time you return with the said woman in tow. Pointing straight at him, you ask, ‘Lucy, this is Frankie. Do you think he’s hot with the grays?’

To her credit, she’s a good sport, and plays along with a cheeky wink. ‘Yeah, he is. You wanna dance, handsome?’

‘Yes, he absolutely does!’ you answer quickly before he can get a word in.

‘What the fuck, Shiv?’ Frankie seethes through clenched teeth, literally digging his heels in, but to his despair, his shoes skid uselessly on the tiled surface as you push him towards the dancefloor with this complete stranger. 

Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

‘Have fun, Fish!’ calls out Pope impishly, which earns him an emphatic middle finger. 

You beam at Mrs. Morales smugly. ‘And that’s how it’s done.’

‘You better keep it up, young lady,’ she says over her shoulder as she turns to leave.

You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’

Santi is minding his own business, sipping on his beer as he stakes out the ladies, when a hand shoots out from nowhere and snatches the bottle from him.

‘What the fuck, man?!’ he bristles indignantly.

Frankie polishes off the drink in one mouthful, before slamming it onto the table and demanding, ‘Where’s Shiv? I’m done. I’m not fucking dancing with anyone else.’

Pope jerks his thumb to the other side of the room. ‘She’s arguing with your mother.’

Frankie flops into a chair, the dress shoes that he never wears are pinching his feet and he fights the urge to kick them off. He folds his arms across his chest petulantly, one palm over his mouth as his eyes wander across the hall to you, where you’re gesturing madly at his ma, embroiled in an impassioned discussion, probably still about his damn hair.

You’re all dressed up tonight, which is new to him - he’s only ever seen you in jeans when you go out drinking with them, and he’s certainly never seen so much of you. The ‘jumpsuit’ (he learns something new every day) is black and cut low both front and back, and fuck, all he sees is soft skin and the dip of your curves and red lipstick -

Pope must have nipped to the bar while he wasn’t looking, and a fresh bottle of beer appears under his nose. Glancing up at his best friend, Frankie mutters, ‘Thanks.’

‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’

He chokes violently at the casual non-sequitur, spraying beer everywhere. ‘What the fuck, Pope.’

Santi beams. ‘You got that look on your face, man. I’ve seen that look before.’

‘I don’t have a look on my face.’

He chuckles, mostly to himself. 'Damn, I really should've seen this coming.'

‘What are you even on about -’ Looking up, Frankie spots you making your way over and panics. ‘Shut the fuck up, pendejo.’

‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.

Santi chortles and takes his leave, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Good luck, Fish.’

You sink into the empty seat next to him and he deliberately twists his body away from you, drinking deeply from his bottle to drown out Santi’s words ringing in his ears. 

‘So, I heard you have a bet going on with Benny. I want splitsies if you win.’

Frankie rolls his eyes, staring resolutely anywhere but at the swell of your cleavage. ‘No.’

‘40/60.’

‘Fuck off, Shiv.’

‘30/70?’ you counter-offer.

He sighs. ‘You’re impossible.’

Ignoring him, you jump up with a happy squeak when someone Frankie vaguely recognises as a girl who used to be in your class approaches with a shy smile. You pull her close by the crook of her arm and ask, ‘Morales, you remember Sadie?’

He tries not to scowl too openly as he too gets on his feet. ‘Sure, hi Sadie.’

Herding them towards the dancefloor, you grin, ‘Go dance, get reacquainted.’

As he passes by you, Frankie grits his teeth and curls his fingers into the meat of his palms to crush the urge to reach out and touch you. 

But it’s easier to fall into your well-rehearsed roles, to toe the line that has been drawn in the sand since you were teenagers. And easier is certainly the safer option when it comes to you.

So he throws you a deliberate glare over his shoulder, with a deadpanned, ‘I hate you.’

You blow him a kiss and grin wider.

Frankie can’t hold back a relieved sigh when the interminably long song finally ends, and the woman he’s dancing with - he won’t even pretend he remembers her name - tucks his phone back into the pocket of his jacket after tapping in her number. ‘Call me, gorgeous.’

He stopped counting after the eighth woman you shepherded his way. This is it. He’s not above hiding in the toilets if that’s what it takes to make this stop.

Except he’s not quick enough. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, marching straight towards him with a fresh glass of water and a look of purpose on your face.

He doesn’t exactly know what came over him. He could probably blame it on the one and a half beers that he downed, or being pushed to the end of his tether. Whatever it is, there’s something he has to say to you, and it can’t wait.

You push the glass into his grasp. ‘Here, hydrate.’

‘Shiv -’

You’ve already swivelled around, your focus somewhere else. ‘Where is she? She was literally just behind me -’

‘Shiv -’

‘Mind you, she’s a sweet girl, but clearly not the brightest tool in the -’

His patience snaps, and he barks, ‘Shiv!’

You spin around, brow furrowed in confusion, and snarl back, ‘What?’

Frankie pauses, and you blink as his warm eyes hold yours. On an exhale, he says, ‘You look nice tonight.’

You’re vaguely aware that your jaw has gone slack, but only because his eyes follow the movement, dropping to your mouth. He considers you for a moment, head tipping just slightly to the side as he watches you. Then, satisfied that he has your attention, he brings the glass of water to his lips, throwing his head back as he drinks. 

Your breath catches in your throat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow, before he leisurely swipes his lips with the back of his hand.

Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.

In a perfectly mirrored imitation of what transpired between you earlier in the evening, he takes two measured steps forward, prompting you to back up against the table behind you. The tinkle of glasses falling over hardly registers in the back of your mind. 

The fabric of his suit is cool on your skin, brushing your bare arm as he looms over you, so broad and warm. Though his front barely makes contact, your peripheral vision gives and all you can see is him.

‘What are you doing?’ you croak the same words back at him, hating the way your voice shakes.

Frankie smiles - really smiles at you, with no colour of the usual irony or sarcasm. Warmth settles into the creases in the corners of his eyes as he holds up the empty glass. ‘Just putting my glass away,’ he says coolly, an edge of cockiness at your tragically obvious reaction to him.

You feel your cheeks heat up as he does just that - the back of his hand bumping into your forearm as he moves, the breadth of him pinning you against the table. He doesn’t pull away, clearly basking in the way the tables have well and truly turned -

‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’

Frankie squeezes his eyes shut in irritation at the voice behind him, nostrils flaring as he collects himself. A resigned smile tugs at his lips, and he tips forward, his words grazing your ear. ‘Catch you later, Shiv.’

You only let your knees buckle when he’s safely out of sight.

You’ve barely stepped back into the reception hall from a much needed bathroom break to clear your head when someone grabs you by the arm, tugging you onto the dancefloor.

‘Benny!’ You reprimand, stumbling over your feet. ‘I’m busy.’

‘Relax, Shiv. Frankie can survive on his own for a second.’

‘You’re just jealous that he’s hogging all the ladies’ attention.’

He scoffs, palms on your waist as he sways to the music. ‘He has an unfair advantage, ok? How do I compete with the bride’s ex?’

Clasping your hands around Benny’s neck, you catch Frankie’s eye over his shoulder. You wink at him casually, having somewhat recovered your bravado - it’s easier to pretend from a distance anyway. He rolls his eyes at you over Jan’s head, but he doesn’t look away, watching you with a hint of something you can’t quite make out.

Glancing up at Benny, you ask a tad bashfully, ‘I know we give Frankie a hard time about all this, but is he - ok?’

‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

You hesitate. ‘Well, we’re not exactly that kind of friends.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, the kind who sit around having heart-to-hearts and painting their nails.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘What kind of friends are you, then?’ 

‘I don’t know, he probably doesn’t even count me as one,’ you admit. ‘He barely tolerates me on a good day.’

Benny shoots you a cryptic look, but before you can quiz him on it, he changes the subject abruptly. ‘Can I swing by the salon tomorrow morning? I have a promotional shoot at half past eleven.’

‘As long as you bring donuts and coffee.’

He twirls you around. ‘Deal.’

Frankie slinks out of the hotel, somehow managing to dodge both you and his mother on his way out, which he takes as a win.

It’s cold outside. He inhales deeply and feels it burn down his throat. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he watches his breath mist in front of his face, savouring the quiet.

‘Hey.’

His shoulders stiffen. He knows he should’ve been the bigger man. Should’ve sought her out first, to congratulate her.

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

When he turns around eventually, she smiles brightly at him, her engagement ring catching the lights.

Closing the space between them, he presses a kiss to her cheek. ‘Congratulations. You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘I’m glad you came. Your mum too - it was a long way to travel.’

His gaze falls to his shoes. ‘Yeah, well. You know she loves you.’

‘How are you?’ she presses on, always one for polite conversation. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

Frankie shrugs but doesn’t answer.

‘Just because it didn’t work between us doesn’t mean I want you to be happy.’

He nods slowly. ‘I appreciate that.’

She points behind her. ‘Well, I should go back inside.’

‘Of course. I’m happy for you,’ he says. And he means it.

The hotel doors swing open, and Frankie looks up at the sharp clack of heels on the concrete. You pause at the sight of them by the curb.

‘Are you leaving, Shiv?’ the bride laments as you walk over to give her a hug.

‘I am, I’m afraid, gotta open up shop early tomorrow,’ you pull back. ‘Come by the salon any time, my treat.’

Once the bride is out of earshot, you turn to Frankie, hands on hips. ‘Alright, no more shirking, Morales. Get your ass back in there, your mother is on my case again.’

He folds his arms across his chest. ‘Oh no, I’m not going back in there without you.’

You sigh dramatically. ‘Am I the only one in this town who’s not scared of your mother?’

‘You should be,’ he snorts, then nods towards the parking lot. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

Taken aback by his offer, you hesitate. ‘Um - I thought you were the designated driver for the guys tonight.’

He brushes off your concerns with an easy shrug. ‘I’ll come back to get them after I drop you off.’ 

Typical Frankie - he walks off without even glancing back to see if you’re coming with him.

You smile to yourself and follow.

You must be drunker than you realised, because you’re staring. Again. For what must be the fifth time in the ten-minute drive.

It’s a lot of staring, even for you.

His jacket lies abandoned in the backseat, his tie jostled loose and the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened, sleeves bunched up to his elbows. You watch from the corner of your eye as his left hand grips the top of the steering wheel steady, fingers flexing every now and then on straight stretches of road.

As if you’re not already discreetly squeezing your thighs together, he’s also rubbing his right palm idly on his leg, the innocent rustle of fabric against skin getting you far too hot and bothered under the metaphorical collar. 

And then - your eyes trail higher - settling on the heavy bulge at the top of his spread thighs.

Fuck. You’re definitely drunk.

You mull silently to yourself that you actually prefer him in his beat-up jeans and threadbare t-shirts before catching yourself. You weren’t aware you had any preferences when it comes to Frankie Morales. And you have no business doing so.

Clearing your throat, you break the tense silence. Well, tense for you, anyway. He seems completely oblivious to your inner strife.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t win the bet.’

His lips quirk, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

‘I had another five girls lined up for you, you know.’

He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’

You reach over to punch him on the arm playfully. ‘C’mon, you know you enjoyed the attention, Morales.’

‘You don’t know me very well, do you?’ he peers at you.

You make a face of disbelief. ‘If you hated it that much, why did you go along with it?’

Cruising into your street, his truck rolls to a smooth stop outside your salon. Frankie kills the ignition, then turns towards you. His answer is simple, and hits you right between the ribs. 

‘Because you wanted me to.’

You force a chuckle in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Since when did you care about what I wanted?’

He smooths his palm over the steering wheel and holds your gaze. ‘Sometime when I wasn’t looking.’

It would be simpler to pretend you didn’t understand what he means. To brush off this pull between you as a champagne-induced episode that you could sleep off. If you did, you could still show up at Tuesday nights drinks next week as if nothing has changed, and carry on.

It would be simpler. So you ask -

‘Do you want to come in for a nightcap?’

Frankie follows two steps behind you as you grapple with the keys on the doorstep. Once inside, the salon is quiet, and you strategically turn on the lights by the backwash, the semi-darkness making it more homey than it would have been if fully lit up. 

‘I would invite you upstairs -’ you pause and add hastily, ‘I don’t mean upstairs like, upstairs in that way - it’s just that my apartment is tiny, and the backwash is the closest thing I have to a couch. Are you okay with beer?’

‘Beer’s good, thanks,’ he answers. ‘Need a hand?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘Oh god, please no - it’s a disaster upstairs. I’ll be right back.’

The rickety stairs creak loudly under your heels, and once you let yourself into your studio, you fall back heavily on the door, taking a second to catch your breath.

You invited him inside. 

He said yes.

You leap into action, shoving all your dirty laundry into the already full hamper. You try not to think too hard about why you’re cleaning up, you just hope you’re not making too much of a ruckus while you’re at it - because you have a boy waiting for you downstairs. 

Francisco Morales, of all people.

Despite having been in each other’s lives since high school, you’re pretty sure you’ve never been alone with him. Not even once. There’s always a buffer with Pope on his side, Benny on yours, and Will in the middle. And while some find Frankie hard to read, you’ve always known exactly how to act around him. You have an unwritten playbook - you bait him with cheap jokes, more often than not joining forces with Benny to gang up on him. He rolls his eyes and snaps at you to shut up. It’s the longest running show in town.

But this? Alone, after his ex’s wedding, in your salon? You’re going off-script and off-piste. Dangerous enough on a good day; outright stupid after a night of drinking.

Frankie is quick to help when you reappear, armed with beer and a bag of ice, using the backwash sink as a makeshift cooler. Your shoes clatter onto the floor as you settle in the chair next to his. Hugging your knees, you hold out your bottle, which he clinks with his.

‘Did you have fun tonight?’ you ask, rather mundanely.

‘As much fun as one is expected to have at an ex’s wedding,’ he answers with a sardonic smile. Taking a sip of beer, he adds, ‘Gotta admit, you winding up my ma pretty much made up for it.’

‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’

You startle when Frankie chokes on his beer, his eyes visibly watering as he thumps a fist on his chest. When you ask if he’s ok, he won’t meet your gaze, downing more of his beer.

Not thinking anything of it, you move on. ‘You know, she sent a bunch of customers my way when I first opened up the salon.’

His voice is still a bit tight from his coughing fit. ‘And I’m sure she’ll deny it till the day she dies.’

‘I can’t figure her out,’ you admit. ‘I can’t decide if she hates me or not.’

‘She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t understand you.’

You hum, unconvinced.

He nudges your knee with his. ‘She was really proud of you when you opened the salon, you know.’

You toss him a sidelong glance. ‘You talk to your mum about me?’

He’s ambiguous in his answer. ‘She asks after you sometimes.’

‘And how would you have anything to say to her? We’re not exactly bosom buddies.’

Frankie concedes with a wry smile, ‘Benny talks.’

‘Ha!’ you laugh, echoing his words from a few days ago back at him. ‘Benjamin fucking Miller.’

He goes quiet for a second, looking around your salon as if taking stock. ‘It’s pretty amazing that you’ve built all this.’

The unexpected compliment catches you blindsided. You reply diplomatically, ‘Ashton helps me loads.’

Frankie’s eyes widen in feigned surprise. ‘Are you going humble on me now? What have you done to Shiv?’

‘Shut up,’ you grumble good-naturedly, adding, ‘Ben tells me you’re doing really well yourself.’

‘Yeah. I got promoted at work last month, and I’m saving up for a house,’ he replies, a hint of pride in his voice. ‘Things are looking up.’

‘You’re actually acknowledging your achievements?’ you gasp in mock outrage. ‘What have you done to Francisco Morales?’

With a shrug, he leans forward to put his empty beer bottle in the sink, but he doesn’t sit back. Instead, he sways even closer, one palm landing on the leather of your seat next to your knee, eyes darting to your lips. His voice is deep as he rasps, ‘Can I kiss you?’

It would be so easy to say yes, but when have you ever made things easy for yourself? 

Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’

Frankie looks amused, like he expected this from you. Slowly, not wanting to spook you, he gently plucks the beer that you’ve barely drunk from your grasp.

‘Because all fucking night, while you were throwing woman after woman at me, I just wanted to have a drink with you.’

He leans in close. 

You stop breathing.

‘Because since Wednesday, every time I wash my hair, I get hard thinking of you touching me.’

Closer still.

Your lungs ache.

‘And because when you told me to go harder, deeper - I nearly lost my fucking mind.’

He’s hovering over you now, and you can almost taste the bitter sweetness of the beer on his breath. He smirks at you, but there’s only warmth and mischief in it when he teases, ‘Speechless for once?’

‘Shut up, Morales,’ you breathe and grab him by the collar of his shirt.

And then you’re kissing him. You’re kissing Frankie, and he’s kissing you back.

It’s messy, and disorientating, and you clumsily fumble over each other until he’s sitting up in one of the chairs, with your thighs on either side of his narrow hips as you straddle him. He’s licking up into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, his hands gripping your sides almost painfully hard.

‘Is this really happening?’ you garble into his lips, ripping off his tie and undoing his shirt buttons as fast as your shaking fingers allow you to.

‘If you want it,’ he mumbles back, loath to pull back from you even for a second to shuck off his shirt. ‘If you want me.’

He kisses you wet and insistent, but he doesn’t push you, waiting for you to make up your mind. Reaching behind you, you tug on the tie that holds your jumpsuit together with a decisive pull, letting the fabric ripple down your bare front and pool around your waist.

Frankie bites his bottom lip so hard it goes white. ‘Fuck,’ he cusses, his grip on your hips twitching as he stares at your tits. ‘Can I, please -?’

‘Touch me, Francisco.’

Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.

This being the way Frankie effortlessly tosses you onto the mattress, his arms flexing with an easy strength that goes straight to your head, as you stare giddily up at him.

His hair - your handiwork - has been well and truly undone, errant strands falling over his eyes as he watches you, his broad frame looming over the foot of the bed. He pulls at his belt, which falls open with a careless clink, and he makes quick work of his now crumpled trousers, kicking them off impatiently.

Your head is swimming, yet somehow, you muster the strength to shuffle towards the edge of the bed, rearranging yourself to sit on your haunches, knees folded neatly beneath you. Boldly, you reach out to slide his dark boxers down his hips, and they fall around his knees and onto the floor. His cock springs free, half-hard and heavy, and Frankie swallows thickly as you tilt your face towards him.

‘I want to suck your cock.’

His eyes close as if he’s in pain, nostrils flaring at your words. Taking advantage of his distraction, you wrap one careful hand around his length, and he jerks violently at the first velvety slide of your palm against him. 

‘Fuck, Shiv -’ he chokes, eyes flying open at the contact, pupils completely blown. He protests weakly, ‘No, stop, need to get you off first -’

You shoot him a lopsided smile, pumping him slowly, your pulse racing at the way you feel him swell in your grasp. ‘Can we not argue this one time?’

You lean forward and, holding his gaze, flatten your tongue and lick your way up the underside of his cock. His breath stutters, one big hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his eyes wide and almost frantic as you press open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive flesh.

With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’

He whimpers, and you know you have him.

His size is obvious by sight, but you really feel it in the pressure bearing down on the hinge of your jaw as you sink down on his cock, fighting to squeeze the girth of him into your mouth. The guttural groan from Frankie makes your pussy clench, and he tastes like he looks - clean, and all man. 

There’s no way you can take all of him, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. He’s hot under your touch, muscles pulled taut with tension that you can feel thrumming under his skin as you take your time with him. Focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat, you bob patiently up and down on him, slicking up his length with your spit, working him slightly deeper with every stroke - until you’re so full of him that you gag, hard.

Frankie is slack-jawed when you release him with an obscenely wet pop, spit trailing from your lips to the swollen tip of his cock, eyes wild as swipes his thumb across your puffy bottom lip. 

‘You’re beautiful,’ he declares, almost solemnly.

Slinking down his front, one hand securely around the base of his cock, you take him between your lips again, moaning at the salty taste of his precum, which makes him quake above you. As you swallow his length and pump your fist in tandem, your spit wetting your fingers, you peer up at him through your lashes - nothing could’ve prepared you for the utter wreckage that you find on his face. 

His lips are pulled back, baring his tidy teeth into a snarl as he very clearly struggles to hold himself back from fucking your mouth. You feel every bump and vein in his cock with each descent, the wet squelches filling in the gaps of his low grunts and moans. His grip in your hair stings as he starts panting in earnest above you, and somehow he gets even harder on your tongue, making it harder to breathe - 

‘Stop, stop,’ he wheezes suddenly, pulling back in a hasty retreat that has you whining at the sudden loss of him. ‘C’mere.’

He practically hauls you up against him, kissing you deeply, delving into your mouth to taste the bitterness of himself on your tongue. The world tilts on its axis when he tips you back onto the bed, and holding himself above you, he peels the jumpsuit off, leaving you in just your panties.

‘Gonna eat you out, baby,’ he drawls by your ear, trailing one palm up your body, which stops at your tits and squeezes. ‘Get you good and ready to take my big cock. How does that sound?’

‘Fuck, yes, Frankie, please,’ you beg.

There’s no shyness when he pushes your legs up and apart, and instead of taking your panties off, he hooks a finger under the thin fabric and pulls it to the side, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you.

‘So pretty,’ he praises you lowly. Holding your breath as he sinks onto his front, you breathe heavily in anticipation as his shoulders slot neatly underneath your legs. ‘Look at how wet you are for me. All this from sucking my cock?’

You nod frantically. ‘Frankie -’

Straight to the point as always, he ducks his dark head and drags the broad of his tongue over your clit - and you’re gone.

Admittedly, you have not had the best experiences with your exes. There was always too much gratuitous moaning and too little finesse, and afterwards, they always act like they deserve a medal for failing to get you off. But even if your past lovers had been more adequate in the field, you’re sure it still wouldn’t have prepared you for this. 

Frankie goes about it with a quiet focus that veers on reverential, the intensity in his dark eyes watching you makes your knees weak. He’s obviously picking up signs and reactions from you and adjusting his game plan accordingly, the pilot in him clearly in the driver’s seat. 

Not that he’s silent - far from it, you feel the reverberation in your core with every satisfied  hum deep in his chest, and the occasional, muttered fuck, so wet, want more in between licks and groans. But there’s nothing performative or showy about it, just a forthright competency that has you hurtling towards a toe-curling orgasm.

‘Frankie,’ you whine when you feel it about to hit. ‘Frankie Frankie Frankie -’

‘Eyes on me,’ he slurs against your sopping folds, and you listen - for once - watching him watch you fall apart on his tongue, thrashing in his hold as he grips you harder to keep you in place while he laps you up, until the burn of his patchy beard on your inner thighs makes you arch away from him from overstimulation.

Your pussy is still fluttering when he sinks two thick fingers into you, and he hisses at the way it clenches around him as he fucks you, leaving his digits slicked and slippery.

‘So tight, baby,’ he declares through gritted teeth, working you open for him. ‘Gonna feel so fucking good on my cock.’

You point towards the nightstand. ‘First drawer,’ you pant.

Needing no further prompting, Frankie yanks your panties off and flings the soaked scrap of fabric over his shoulder, then lunges at the cupboard where the condoms are. You scrape your nails over his thighs as he kneels over you, his usually steady hands visibly trembling as he tears into the wrapper and rolls the rubber over his heavy cock. He watches you with hooded eyes and settles between your legs, kissing you desperately as the swollen tip of him nudges at your entrance.

‘Ready?’ he asks, nose skimming yours sweetly.

You wind your arms around his neck, holding him close. ‘Fuck me, Frankie.’

The first push is a tight squeeze, and you can’t help the wince at the slight pinch as he sinks into you slowly. With a grunt of effort, he buries face into the slope of your neck and breathes, ‘Fuuuuck. You ok?’

‘Give me a second,’ you gasp, feeling your walls throb tightly around his length. ‘You’re so big, Frankie.’

He tangles his tongue with yours lazily in a deep kiss, before brushing his way down your throat and sucking on one nipple, making you cry out. He murmurs against your skin, ‘I know, but you’re doing so well for me, baby.’

Shifting your hips, Frankie groans when you slide him in deeper, the friction making you quiver beneath him. ‘Move, Frankie, please.’

He starts carefully, his strokes measured and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him as he draws back then sinks back in, exhaling shakily. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

‘Harder,’ you demand when you feel your pussy relax around him. ‘Fuck me harder.’

‘Shit,’ he growls and snaps his hips, drawing a squeal from you as he hits somewhere deep inside. You wrap your legs around his waist, bracing yourself as he drives into you again and again and again, the bedframe hitting the wall with each thrust.

‘So good, Frankie,’ you plead in between hard pants. ‘Keep going. Don’t stop -’

Looking up at him, you admire the way his hair falls over his eyes, swaying with his movement. Absent-mindedly, your fingers wander into his curls and his reaction is instant - he cries out, arching into your touch, his hips faltering as he seems to lose his rhythm. ‘Oh fuck, baby, been thinking about those hands all fucking week, just wanted to feel you touch me again -’

As wrecked as you are on his cock, you smile at his confession and slide your hands languidly in his locks, dragging your nails on his scalp, your chest swelling with pride when you watch his face - dazed and completely wrecked - fucking you so hard that you’re sure the bed is about to break.

When he finds his voice again, it’s your real name that slips past his lips. ‘Gonna cum so hard, oh fuck - I’m gonna -’

Frankie’s thrusting frantically into you, eyes screwed shut until his hips stutter and then - after one perfect moment of stillness suspended in time - shudder after shudder thunder through his body, your name a broken record as he spills into the condom, his scratchy baritone moaning into your neck as the frenzied energy bleeds out of him.

His weight pins you to the bed as he catches his breath, and you play with his curls gently, basking in the rumbling purr in his chest as you run the strands between your fingers. Eventually, gathering himself, he rolls off you to let you breathe, tying the condom neatly and tossing it into the trash can.

For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’

You laugh, which makes him grin. One strong arm reaches out to tuck you into his side, securely beneath the duvet. You hum at the tickle of his beard on the back of your neck and the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.

Right on the cusp of sleep, you sass, ‘Guess you’ll have to split the winnings with me after all.’

Any other day, you would’ve woken up if you heard someone on the stairwell. Hell, you’d hear if they were knocking on the salon door downstairs.

When you’re rudely shaken awake by frantic knocking on the studio door, you realise it’s because your hearing has been impaired by the side of a very warm body smooshed into your ear.

‘Shiv! Open up! I need to leave in fifteen minutes for my photoshoot!’

‘Shit,’ you croak, throat dry, limbs flailing as you try to sit up. ‘I forgot about Benny.’

‘Fuck him’, grouses Frankie, pulling you back into his arms, eyes still closed.

‘I can’t, I promised to help him with his hair. Fuck, do we need to hide you, or -’

‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’

Frankie lets you go with a grumbled Benjamin fucking Miller under his breath, but he visibly perks up when you stumble out of bed naked.

You half-jokingly shield your boobs from his view. ‘Are you perving on me, Morales?’

He smirks, leaning back into the pillows with his hands folded behind his head while he eyes you appreciatively. It’s not fair how his triceps flex deliciously with the movement. ‘Why bother covering up? I’ve seen everything already.’

Trying - and failing - to shoot him a stern scowl, you pull on a robe and yank the door open, nearly careening backwards at the sight of Benny’s grinning face right in the doorway. 

‘Since when did you bang paying customers?’ he demands in lieu of a good morning.

You roll your eyes and usher him downstairs. ‘He’s not a paying customer. He’s on Pope’s tab.’

Benny flops into his usual chair, making it squeak, one eyebrow up as he does the air quotes. ‘Well, I guess we now know what kind of friends you guys are.’

‘Shut up, Miller,’ you gripe, but your mouth twists into a grin, giving you away as you set up.

‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’

You point your styling scissors at him menacingly. ‘Shut up, or I won’t be held responsible if my hands slip by accident.’

Benny feeds you a sugar donut while you work quickly, trimming the ends before styling it, going for a tousled bed head look. You hear the water pipes run upstairs and the carpeted floors creak when Frankie gets up. Trying to play it cool, you only briefly glance up, catching a glimpse of him in the mirror as he makes his way down the stairs in his rumpled shirt and trousers, zipping up the fly when he reaches the bottom.

‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’

Frankie loiters behind you for a second, scratching the back of his neck, before pulling you to one side. Not that it affords you much privacy anyway, with Benny wriggling his eyebrows impertinently at the two of you in the mirror.

‘I - uh -,’ he starts haltingly, one hand rubbing at the silver patch in his beard sheepishly. ‘I had a really good time last night.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ you smile.

His voice dipping lower, he asks, ‘Can I take you out to dinner sometime?’

Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’

‘She’ll get to you when she gets to you, Benjamin,’ snaps Frankie, one hand on his hip and the other pointing a stern finger at him.

Something about him being so assertive sends heat running up and down your spine. Stepping into his space - beaming when he doesn’t back away - you smooth a palm over the front of his shirt, unintentionally catching the rabbiting of his heart underneath.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrug nonchalantly. ‘Do you intend to come back as a cash-paying customer?’

His eyes flash with want, one hand closing around your hip and he leans down to let his heated words brush by your ear. ‘Not if I can keep paying in other ways.’

Reaching up, you run a hand through his curls, preening at the way he closes his eyes at your touch. ‘Alright then, take me to dinner, Francisco.’

Peering around you, Frankie barks, ‘Miller, I’m cashing in on our bet.’

‘Fuck’s sake. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,’ he gripes, digging into his wallet reluctantly.

Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’

With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head and playfully push him towards the door. ‘Get outta here before I change my mind!’

‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’

You’re not sure which makes your jaw drop - his cocksure declaration or the roguish confidence with which he walks out the door. In either case, Benny howls with laughter as you struggle to stay on your feet, your kneecaps having been rendered completely useless.

Just as Frankie climbs into his truck, Ashton whistles to a stop outside the salon on his wheels. Jaw dropping at the sight of the disheveled pilot nodding at him through the windscreen, he abandons his bike right on the curb and dashes into the salon, the door banging against the wall as he rushes in.

‘Excuse me - what the fuck did I just miss?’ he demands frantically.

You roll your eyes. ‘Calm down, Ashton, it’s not what it looks like -’

‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’

He breaks off with a yelp when you stuff a donut into his mouth to shut him up, sugar flying everywhere as Ashton picks you up and spins you around, squealing like a banshee the entire time.

‘You guys are the fucking worst,’ you laugh, out of breath by the time Ashton lets you go.

Glancing outside, where Frankie is still parked watching the whole embarrassing episode, he gives you one last wink and an amused grin before he pulls away from the curb.

In an almost exact repeat of the scene from a few days ago, Ashton joins you at the window, and the two of you watch, shoulder to shoulder, as Frankie smoothly steers his truck out of your street.

‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’

You grin. You know you are - and luckily, it’s not a spot of bother that you’ll be in a hurry getting out of anytime soon.

Notes: I'm so excited to have finally completed this little two-shot. The two of them have been hanging out in my head all these months, it feels amazing to finally yeet this part into the world! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you had as much fun as I did with these two 🥰 Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ❤️

Now that I've got you here, if you want more of Shiv, I wrote some silly little drabbles of her hair appointments with our handsome Pedro boys for a recent milestone celebration. There are also some fun thoughts that came out of an impromptu Grays sleepover we had last week 🤍

I'm sure we'll see more of Shiv and Frankie somewhere down the line. For now, thank you again, I love you all so much ❤️

[sailoryooons]

hiiii :3 i’m a VERY silent reader (i’m terrified of my irls finding me on this god forsaken app) but i just love your writings so much so i had to participate in the agust event!!!!

childhood bffs yoongi x reader smut where they’re definitely probably too close, way closer than bffs should be anyways. reader goes to yoongi one night complaining bc no matter what she does, she just can’t cum! good thing yoongi’s actions speak louder than words <3

pls pls pls get totally creative w this, i love ur brain sm and i love seeing what you come up with!!!

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Yoongi has always been your closest friend, but it’s always been a little closer than everyone else. He takes it one step further, offering to address a silly little problem for you. 

❀ Word Count: 2,320

❀ Genre: Friends to something more, PWP 

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, some feelings of insecurity but like barely, talking about orgasm struggles, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple stimulation, a hint of choking, a lot of sucking on neck/throat, nipple play, mostly reader getting finger blasted sdfnodsifgj, reader is completely naked and Yoongi is still clothed, mentions of oral (f. receiving), a little bit of cum eating

❀ Published: August 23, 2022

❀ A/N: Okay so this was supposed to be posted way earlier than 10:30 PM EST but I completely forgot I had this sitting and waiting to post (it was a long day) but HERE IT IS!!! I love the idea of Yoongi casually just being like yeah I’ll get you to come or whatever, let’s do it sdfjdfogijdfrgi thank you so much for being a reader and requesting something - silent or talkative reader, I'm just happy you're here and that you enjoy my writing! Thank you for being here.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust |

“You what?” You ask Yoongi, breath shaky. “Don’t play around like that, it’s not very funny.”

It’s rare that you can’t tell if Yoongi is making a joke or not. Though his humor is quiet like the night sky outside and soft like the sweater he’s draped in, you know Yoongi. Know him well enough to detect the subtle notes of a joke in his hushed words, know to listen amid the loud voices of your friends for a quiet jest, spoken softly just for you. 

Now, though, you’re a little unsure. 

Everyone has said for years that your friendship with Yoongi is too friendly. You vehemently disagree: affection between friends should be encouraged and treasured. Being able to platonically hold hands, share beds, and offer physical affection isn’t something reserved for lovers. You adamantly believe in this - always have. 

But… it is different with Yoongi. You think about how you always hold Taehyung’s hand, how you let him curl into your side during movies, or how he nests in your bed when he grows too tired for parties. Taehyung is particularly affectionate, but it does feel different.

“Let me make you cum,” Yoongi repeats, as though he’s reflecting on the weather outside. He’s on his knees on the couch next to you, hands resting in his lap. “No one should have to go through their adult life without partners making them cum.”

You roll your eyes. “Plenty of people can’t cum for a number of reasons, Yoongi.”

“Okay, that’s fair. Let me try anyway.”

“Why do you care?”

He tilts his head. “Because you’re you. And I’m good at making people cum. It feels like an obvious answer.”

“We’re best friends.”

“My point exactly. Look, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, I-”

You shake your head and wave him off. “No, I just. Didn’t expect the offer and it made me nervous.”

“Nervous how?”

Letting out a long exhale, you rest your head on the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling. Your warm mug of tea is abandoned and the drama on the TV plays on, silent in the background. You chew the inside of your cheek, wondering how to string your words together. 

With anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed or nervous. With Yoongi, your anxiety is significantly less. Even if you speak the words on your mind, you’re sure it won’t change things. You’ve been through your fair share of oversharing, never shamed, never turned away. 

It’s how you started this conversation about your sex life in the first place.

So you decide to be honest. 

“Nervous like, I’m into it and I want to try it out, but I don’t want it to make our dynamic weird.” 

“It’s not weird for me if it’s not weird for you. I’m sorry I offered so bluntly.” 

Your lips twitch and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. Yoongi has beautiful hands. Long fingers with knobby knuckles, blunt nails and gentle fingertips, calloused palms. You’ve mapped the structure of his palm hundreds of times, know the shapes of the lines on them, and watched a palm reader chart the stars on them. 

Yoongi’s hands are where you’re safest. 

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t violate a boundary.” His mouth is soft when he smiles, his eyes are dark when he watches you. He’s so pretty. A soft thing with round cheeks, kind eyes, and gentle smiles. Quiet. Confident. “You really wanna try?” 

Yoongi’s grin turns feral. “I do.” 

“Alright.”

It starts with him leading you to your room, hand holding yours gently. It starts with a shy smile and hungry eyes, Yoongi watching you as you sit on the edge of your bed, unsure and giving him a questioning gaze. His hands are confident when he makes you move backward, shuffling until you’re in the middle of your bed on your back. 

Yoongi joins you on the bed, kneeling next to you. He watches as he reaches out, brushing his fingertips over your thigh. His touch is featherlight, making you shiver. He doesn’t do anything but this at first, tracing the shape of your clothed hip, up the sides of your rips, under the curve of your breast. 

Your breath catches, fixated on Yoongi as he outlines your curves. His eyes flicker to your face, drinking in your expression when he draws his fingers over the swell of your tits and over your nipple. The stimulation is barely there but it spikes. You inhale sharply and he smirks as he keeps going, brushing over your throat, and under your jaw, feeling your pulse. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. He takes you by the chin, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “What do you like?” 

It’s hard to answer. Yoongi’s hand leaves your mouth and trails back down to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat but doesn’t squeeze. It’s a barely-there ghost of a grip and he raises his eyebrow. You nod, unable to string together an answer. He squeezes gently before continuing his exploration downward again.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth. This Yoongi is one you’ve never experienced. He’s quiet as always, but the silence is heavier. Pointed. He bites his bottom lip a little as he passes your stomach and dips between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. 

“Yeah?” he asks when your hips twice. 

You feel heat lick through you, pooling between your legs. Your fingers twist in the sheets in anticipation. Heat pulses from your pussy, panties getting damp and Yoongi’s has barely touched you. It’s the way he looks at you, the way he presses his thumb against your swelling clit. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, voice watery. “I’m pretty into it.”

“I can tell,” he teases. He leans down, keeping one hand between your legs, gently applying pressure and circling his fingers as his lips search for yours. “You’re already wet, huh?”

Yoongi doesn’t let you answer. His lips capture yours and you sigh into his mouth, hands coming up automatically to wrap around his neck. It feels so natural. His hair is soft between your fingers and his mouth is warm, tasting faintly of the peppermint tea he drank earlier. 

Kissing Yoongi is heady. He controls the kiss, keeping the pace slow as if he’s savoring you. Your thighs close around his hand as he presses through your shorts harder. When he introduces his tongue to your mouth, it takes your breath away. 

Breaking the kiss, Yoongi mouths at your jaw. You arch into him, running your hands down his chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his sweater. One of your hands goes to his wrist pressed into the mattress by your head, holding onto him, the other goes to his hand between your legs, laying your fingers on his, pressing.

He hums, the buzz of his mouth against the underside of your jaw maddening. Together, you peel your shorts down your legs. Yoongi shuffles closer to you, your thigh pressed against his as he continues to kneel next to you, heat radiating from his body.

Yoongi traces the trim of your panties. You watch him, your mouth parted as you breathe unsteadily. He is solely focused on you. You can feel the slick sticking to the silk, watching as he drags a finger near your hip, his touch tantalizing. 

Maybe this is what you were missing. Yoongi takes his time, dragging out the feeling of his hands on you. Works you up as he removes your shirt and bra next. You feel drunk on him already, nipples pebbling in the cold room. His nails scratch lightly up your stomach to your chest. He smirks as he traces slow, lazy circles around your nipples, eyes glancing up to watch your expression. 

“Why?” you ask, hissing at the light stimulation. You want more. 

“No one is in a rush,” he mutters. His voice is low, raspy. “Are you?”

When you shake your head, he smiles, pinching a nipple between two fingers. A curse drips from your mouth and your hips buck. You close your eyes, letting Yoongi tweak one nipple then the other, letting him guide you through. The stimulation feels good - otherworldly, even, when he bends down and flicks the tip of his tongue over one playfully. 

“No,” you sigh. “Not in a rush.” 

His teeth scrape your sensitive bud and your head rolls back, pushing into the mattress. “Good. Relax, let me take care of you.”

Tension melts out of your body. You didn’t realize you were so tense until he pointed it out. You let yourself sink into the feeling of Yoongi sucking gently on the peak of your right nipple while his thumb brushes back and forth over the other. The stimulation feels good, your head lolling to the side as you breath shakily. 

Yoongi is slow. He takes his time running his tongue across your chest, air cooling is spit as he goes. You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your cunt throb for attention. He notices, nipping his way back up to your neck as he slides a hand down between your legs, pressing your panties into your sticky folds. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. He nuzzles your neck, tongue swipe over the sensitive spot of your throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking wet.”

“Good.” His words are muffle as he sucks at your tender skin. You angle your head, giving him better access. It feels like the bed is spinning wildly, a compass lost in an electromagnetic field. “Tell me at any point if something doesn’t feel good or you want something else.”

“Okay.”

You open your eyes and smile. It’s so Yoongi to make sure he asks what you want. So Yoongi to remind you that he’s here for you. That as he slips his hand under the waistband of your underwear, he’s determined to provide for you. To get you off. 

A moan slips out of your mouth when it comes into contact with your dripping cunt. He avoids touching your clit directly, fingers spreading your folds as he teases your hole experimentally. It feels good - whether it’s because it’s Yoongi or because you’re already worked up, it doesn’t matter. 

Yoongi circles around your clit deftly a few times, making your hips wiggle. A tingle settles in your stomach, fingers twisting in the sheets.

When he retracts his hand, you open your eyes. He watches you steadily lifting his fingers to pop them between pink lips and oh. He hums around his fingers, making a show of rolling his tongue around them, tasting your juices. He slides them slowly out of his mouth, hypnotizing you. 

“Mmm.” He grins and reaches to slide your underwear off. “Can’t wait to eat you out. First, I’m gonna make you come.”

Never in your friendship would you have imagined Yoongi to be like this. It would be a lie to say you’d never thought what it might be like to have him like this, his hands peeling your underwear off. The scrap of the silk on your legs is heady, every part of your skin extra sensitive. 

Lips parts, eyes fixed, you watch him toss the underwear to the side. He shuffles so that one knee rests against his leg, the other spread flat on the mattress for him. There is a split second where you feel vulnerable, spread open for him to see how much of a mess you are at the barely stimulation. You start to close your leg but Yoongi shakes his head, hand brushing down your inner thigh.

Slowly, Yoongi drags a finger up your slit to your entrance, massaging lightly with his finger before sinking in slowly. You let out a long breath, your walls clenching around his finger. It doesn’t provide a lot of stretch, but it feels good, the pad of his pointer stroking your inner wall. 

At first, Yoongi is slow. Familiarizing himself with your warm, wet heat. He picks up the pace then, stroking deeply, ensuring to push up against that soft spot inside of you. It drives you crazy. Crazier, still, when he leans down and attaches his mouth to yours, tongues tangling as he fingers you leisurely. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi mutters against your mouth. “You’ve got a wet little cunt.”

“Not usually,” you admit. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends a little. Your entire body is radiating with heat, sweat slicking your skin. “Fuck, it feels good. Doesn’t usually.”

“No?” he sucks harshly at your jaw and your eyes flutter shut. 

“No. Usually they jack hammer their fingers into my pussy.”

His laugh is hot on your skin. “Nah, just gotta find the spot.” 

Yoongi has found the spot. Makes it ten times better when he adds another finger, giving you something more substantial to grip on. Your cunt grips his fingers like a vice, slick sounds filling the room. He adds his thumb to the mix, pressing down on your clit. You gasp his name, hips bucking against his hand, dripping into his palm.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts. “Fuck yourself onto my hand the way you like.” 

Together, you work yourself up to the edge. Yoongi doesn’t pause for a moment, doesn’t complain that his wrist is tired, doesn’t stop tonguing your sensitive spot on your neck until you’re clinging to him, coming around his fingers in a wet, messy squelch. 

You shake as he thrusts his fingers a few more times, the slopping sound of his palms smacking your pussy intoxicating. You feel like liquid, blurry at the edges and warm. 

“Holy shit,” you sigh. Yoongi pulls his fingers from your hole and you immediately squirm, hating the empty feeling. “That was just from your fingers?”

“Uh huh.” You watch as he licks his fingers again, grinning around them. Your stomach flips, cunt still leaking, begging for more. “Now watch what happens when I eat this pussy.”