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#best exhaust fan for kitchen
dollaches · 2 months
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— tell me & i’ll be around
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♡ farm! ellie williams x fem! reader
synopsis: with ellie working so hard in the sweltering heat of summer, you decide to treat her to a special night
a/n: first time writing on my phone dont be too harsh lol
warnings: domestic life, farm au, no apocalypse just lesbian sex, stressed ellie, tooth rotting fluff, alcohol consumption, established relationships, tradwife beginnings i fear, kissing, fingering (e! receiving), cunnilingus (e! receiving), sub top ellie i guess?? i dont know, mentions of spit, just porn with very poor plot
wc: 3k
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Summer days brought along a sun that refused to yield, the farm consumed by a dry heat that was nearly unbearable. 
Unfortunately, it was a rather important time of the year for you and your girlfriend, as the animals needed tending to and the crops had to be monitored and well watered. But Ellie refused to let you do anything at all, her brows furrowing with hesitation whenever you pleaded to at least help her with the animals in the morning when the heat has not yet reached its peak. 
Yet time and time again, Ellie rejects your offer ever so gently, her voice as soft as butter melting on the hot asphalt as she speaks to you. “You know I feel better with you in the house, sugar. I don’t mind workin’ alone, plus I can’t have a pretty thing like you bein’ out in this heat now, can I?” 
She knew how to sweet talk you whenever you started overthinking, yet the memory of her words offered you no comfort as you watched her from the large window in the kitchen. You could see the way her thin white tanktop was clinging to her tanned skin, sweat soaking through the material so that you could almost see every detail of her toned body. She was working away, feeding all the animals one last time before turning in for the night. 
Her muscles tensed as she carried tin buckets of food out to the barn and you have to try your best to not get distracted, rushing into the kitchen to grab exactly what you knew she was going to be craving after a long day. 
You were going to spoil her and take care of her if it was the last thing you did, as she deserves just as much attention as she gives to you. 
The sound of heavy footsteps on the porch makes you perk up, the wooden door creaking open before it slams shut. For a moment all you can hear is the soft whirring of the small fan that was in the kitchen, unable to see Ellie from your position in the kitchen. 
Her tired voice finally breaks the silence, the sound of her unlacing her boots being all too familiar. “You mind grabbin’ me a beer from the fridge, babydoll?” she asks before she lets out a sigh of relief as she falls back onto the fluffy couch residing in the living room. 
You were ecstatic with the little plan you had created, as it was already playing out perfectly. With her beer in hand, you make your way toward her as you try to mask your excitement. “Already have one ready for you, baby” you hum, the ice cold beer already popped open for her so she wouldn’t have to do anything but enjoy her drink after a long day. 
Ellie takes the bottle from your hands, a pleased grin on her features as she looks up at you from where she’s sitting. “Well look at you, so smart” she praises smoothly, always finding a way to make your tummy fill with butterflies. 
Her freckled cheeks are all rosy from being out in the sun and you can’t help but frown in the slightest as she sips her beer, knowing that she must be exhausted. After a long sip, Ellie glances at you and a look of worry appears as she takes notice of your distress. 
“Somethin’ on your mind?” she asks gently, one hand keeping a firm hold on the glass bottle while the other reaches out to carefully pull you onto her lap. There is no roughness in her touch, only an indescribable tenderness that left you feeling warm inside. 
You’re quick to give her a reassuring smile, shaking your head as you get comfortable on her lap as she leans back on the couch to relax. “Nothing really, just thinking maybe you want a massage after working so hard all day” you suggest, not wanting her to be pestered by your concerns for her well being, as you’d rather focus on actively taking care of her. 
A goofy grin appears on Ellie’s lips, an airy chuckle coming quickly afterwards. “A massage?” she questions, seeming surprised at the suggestion. “You must be spoiling me tonight, hm?” she muses in a playful manner. 
Although she was absolutely right. 
Tonight would be about her and her only, as she spoiled you rotten every single day and she was more than overdue for some extra attention and care. 
You just give a small shrug, your fingers lightly tracing shapes on the soft skin of her neck, small beads of sweat still rolling down her skin even after being inside for a bit. “Just think you deserve something special” you hum, not wanting to pressure her into anything at all. 
Your gentle tone is enough to make Ellie’s shoulders relax, unknowingly leaning into your touch as you graze her skin with your fingertips. “I’d really love that, sugar” she mutters, letting out a soft sigh as she finishes up her beer. 
Her agreement is enough to make your heart soar with excitement, as all you want to do is help her feel good. “Your wish is my command” you state in a playful tone, always seeming to fall into the roll of a housewife when you were with Ellie. 
With a quick kiss to her cheek, you pluck the empty beer bottle from her hands and head to the kitchen to dispose of it. “How bout’ you go take a real quick shower to relax and I’ll be waiting for you as soon as you’re done” you suggest, calling out to her from the kitchen. 
Ellie lets out a small huff at the suggestion, never enjoying getting cleaned up after a long day. Nonetheless, she stands to her feet, stretching her arms above her head before glancing in the direction of the kitchen. “You’re not comin’ with?” she asks in her usual southern drawl, a bit pouty since you usually did join her. 
“I’ll be waiting in the room once you’re all done, promise!” you chirp happily, reassuring her enough to make her head up the creaky stairs one by one so that she can reach the upstairs bathroom. 
You set the empty bottle on the counter and wait until you hear the water start up before you begin to walk up the stairs. Quickly discarding your clothes onto the floor, you change into a light blue babydoll nightgown that just so happened to be Ellie’s favorite one to see you in. Tonight was supposed to be a treat for her after all so you wanted every detail to be perfect. 
You only have to wait a few more minutes after settling onto your shared plush bed, the water cutting off as Ellie finishes up. The anticipation is almost killing you, the excitement of being able to do something for her making you dizzy with delight. 
Finally, she exits the steamy bathroom, a loose white t-shirt and red plaid boxers being her pajamas of choice for the night. Her short hair still has droplets of water that seep into the fabric of her shirt as she walks towards you, yet she doesn’t seem to mind at all. 
Within a second of seeing you, she is already smiling brightly, treating you as if you were God’s gift to this planet. “You got all dolled up just for me, baby?” she questions, even if she already knew the answer. 
You nod eagerly as she settles on the bed, guiding her so that she’s sitting up with her back facing your chest, settling comfortably between your legs. “Course’ I did” you reply with a sugary sweet tone, your hands smoothing over her shoulders and gently tracing down her biceps ever so gently. 
Your touch alone is enough to have her melting, completely under your control when you have her like this. You make quick work of beginning the massage, delicate hands kneading her shoulders to help relieve some tension. A low moan escapes her lips, relief washing over her after a long day in the scorching heat. 
“My poor baby, working all day just to take care of me” you coo, purposely placing your lips next to her ear so your breath fans against her sensitive neck. Your words make Ellie’s mind go fuzzy and all she can do is nod, her voice almost sounding like a whimper. “S’ so hot today, too hot” she states, groaning a bit as you slide your hands underneath her shirt so you can really soothe her aching back. 
“I know, I know. But you did so well, always making me so proud” you coo, knowing just how to get inside her head and make her mind quiet down so that she can relax completely. Your words of praise go straight to her head and she is reduced to a complete mess, a soft groan being tugged from her lips as you press wet kisses down the side of her neck. 
“Bet you want some relief after all that hard work, hm? Want me to help make you feel good?” you question softly, only to be met with an overly eager nod from her. “Need your help, doll. So tired, I just need you” she sighs, her head tilting back so that you can gently nibble at the soft skin of her neck to leave little marks that she would wear proudly the next few days. 
Her words make you feel ecstatic, her tone proof of your ability to help soothe her. You give a little “awh” before pressing one last kiss to her neck before helping her change positions, having her lean back against the countless fluffy pillows that littered the bed so that she could get comfortable. 
Intimacy seemed to come naturally to the two of you so there is no hesitation when Ellie lifts her hips for you so that you can carefully slide down her boxers, discarding them onto the floor so they are completely out of your way. You settle on your tummy between her thighs, nearly drooling at the sight of her. 
Yet you remind yourself to take things slow, to please her as much as you possibly can. You glance up at her only to find that she is already looking down at you, a dazed smile crossing her features at how perfect you look when you’re between her legs. 
You make an effort to keep eye contact as you pepper her inner thighs with small kisses, some quick pecks while others are slow and wet, your tongue lapping at her warm skin. The gasps she lets out are enough to fuel the fire that burns within your tummy, your eyes finally flickering downward to focus on the task at hand. 
The need to bring her pleasure is overwhelming and yet you manage to take things slow for her sake, not wanting to overwhelm her at any point. “That’s it, baby, relax for me” you hum, your breath warm against her aching cunt as she spreads her legs open a bit further for you. 
Your words only make her whinier and you can’t help but feel pleased with your ability to make the big and tough Ellie nothing more than a whimpering mess. You spread her open, wanting to see all of her before you got started. 
“Tell me what you need, wanna hear you say it” you plead, wanting to hear it for yourself. Ellie doesn’t protest at all, her arm covering her face as she pants from the feeling of being so exposed to you. “Fuck, need you to eat me out. Wanna feel that pretty tongue of yours on my cunt” she huffs out, the filthy words sounding heavenly as they roll off her tongue. 
That’s all you need before you get to work, licking a long stripe up her pussy slow enough to make her feel weak. She lets out the sweetest moan you’ve ever heard and you feel much more confident in your ability to give her the pleasure she deserves. 
Small kitten licks ensue, as you know she enjoys being teased. You give her just enough to keep her pleading for more, your tongue circling around her clit yet never properly brushing against it. “C’mon, fuck, just a little more” she pleade breathlessly, her lips parting to take in as much air as she can possibly get. 
Ellie isn’t one to beg too often, preferring to keep a tough facade. With this knowledge, you know she must be incredibly needy to be acting this way and you weren’t going to punish her for doing so. Obeying her pleas, you decide to give her even more than she asked for, closing your lips around her clit and sucking softly. 
The pressure has her crying out, every curse in the book being muttered by her as she squirms under your touch. “Just like that, sugar. So good for me” she praises, managing to make your heart flutter even with your face buried in her cunt. 
You keep it up for a bit before refocusing your attention on her slit, pressing your tongue against her perfectly so that you can fuck into her simply using her tongue. The angle seems to work perfectly, as your nose nudges her clit while you fuck her open, her saccharine taste making your mind go completely blank. 
Ellie has never been a patient person and now is no different, rocking her hips in time with the thrusts of your tongue, practically fucking your face just to get what she wants. It’s not as if you mind, as you’re simply here to appease her. 
You want to bring her to the edge, knowing just how to get her there. She lets out a whine when you pull your tongue away, looking down at you with furrowed brows, seeming as if she was about to scold you for having the audacity to stop. 
But she never gets the chance, as you spit on her already slick cunt before circling a finger around her entrance. The spit is simply to ensure that your finger can easily push into her— not to mention she gets off on you making a mess of her. 
With little effort you are able to push in your middle finger, watching the way her face contorts with pleasure as you open her up. “Look at how pretty you are, making the cutest sounds for me” you praise as she moans endlessly, the sounds broken by a gasp as you quickly add you ring finger just so she can feel a little bit of a stretch. 
“You take— holy shit, you take such good care of me, sweetheart” she mutters, her chest rising and falling at a quick pace in order to keep up with her need for oxygen. You can’t help but feel proud of yourself, leaning down to messily kiss her clit as you curl your fingers just right, the way her velvet walls cling to you being evidence of your expertise. 
You don’t need her to warn you, as you can tell that she’s about to cum just from the way her clit jumps in the slightest and how she tightens around your fingers. There is no need for words either, your eyes fluttering shut as you focus on her taste and scent, your senses consumed by her. 
With a loud curse and a mutter of your name, she is coming undone for you. Her hips twitch helplessly against your fingers and mouth, so sensitive as she rides out her high. You can’t help but moan as she makes a complete mess, a ring of her cream at the base of your fingers as you slowly ease them out. Before you completely pull away, you can’t help but give her sweet clit one last kiss. 
With no shame, you clean her juices off your fingers, a soft hum leaving your lips at the reward of your hard work. Poor Ellie can barely think, still trembling with over sensitivity as you lay beside her and give her a sweet kiss. 
It’s drawn out, your tongue brushing against hers so that you can prove to her that she tastes absolutely perfect, the dirty act only making you feel even closer to her. She moans against your lips, only pulling away when you’re both in need of air. 
She presses her slightly sweaty forehead against yours, a fucked out grin on her lips as you smile back at her, your lips coated with her slick and her spit. 
“You’re an angel, you know that?” she asks breathlessly, her heart aching with the love she feels for you. No one gives her attention and care the way you do and it’s as if you knew exactly what she needed to relax and come down after a hard day. 
“Just doing what I can to help since you won’t let me work with you” you mutter, lowering your hand to graze her soft tummy. She only hums in acknowledgment of your words, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
“Well thank you, sugar. You made all that stress melt away” she states in a pleased tone, her relief being your relief since you can finally relax while knowing that Ellie is content. “Anything for you, Els. Just come to me when things are too much, okay? I know you wanna take care of me but I wanna take care of you too” you whisper, giving her a reassuring smile. 
She nods gently, pulling your body closer to her own right before she covers your face in kisses that tickle in the slightest. “Alright, alright, I promise I will” she finally agrees, her warm hand lowering to squeeze your ass a bit, as she had a tendency to be a bit grabby. 
“Now how bout’ I make you feel good after all that hard work” she suggests, mimicking what you had said to her earlier. The suggestion has you grinning and you know that tonight will be going on longer than planned. 
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97linelover · 3 months
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don´t let me slip away, please. - Jeon Wonwoo
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18+ / mdi
summary: Dating an Idol was not always easy, you once again felt it with their newest comeback.
What if your Boyfriend pushes you away and you could only watch?
content: Idol Wonwoo x non Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff, smut
wc: 2.2 k
a/n: I always think about, how tiring comebacks must be for idols so I wrote down this AU.
The most painful thing is seeing your partner suffer but not being able to help.
That's exactly how you feel right now with Wonwoo.
Ever since the announcement of the new seventeen the best album, you have watched him slip out of your grip. You felt his distance, and you felt him closing up on you.
Jeon Wonwoo became so distant that you felt like the love he held for you was gone.
When the album release came, he was long gone before you woke up. You had ordered a small cake in the album theme. But in the morning, Wonwoo was long gone; his bag was gone, and you looked at your phone.
„Nonu: filming for MNET right now; I don't know when I'll be home. I didn't want to wake you. I love you."
A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you locked your phone again, trying to sleep some more.
It was the third show they had this week, and you know how exhausted he must be. While comebacks were amazing for the fans, they were exhausting for the artists.
You got ready and decided to watch the recording of today's set. For this comeback, you took some days off to support Wonwoo, but he did not appreciate it in the slightest.
Haru guided you inside the studio, where you heard the screams of the fans and the fan chant. A smile appeared on your lips, and you watched the boys do what they're best at.
But at the end, you could clearly see their exhaustion, their painted smiles, and their dull eyes. You saw how Wonwoo supported himself on Mingyu, and he tried his best to smile. The fans cheered and cheered, and you felt yourself getting sadder with each passing moment.
The comeback times were unbelievable hard, and if you did not date an idol, you would never know. 
When they got off the stage, you quickly went towards your boyfriend. „Nonu, you were amazing," you said with a bright smile, and he looked at you. „Y/N, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised, and you shrugged. „I took some time off, and I wanted to surprise you." You threw your arms around his neck.
„You were so good," you kissed him softly. He felt distant, and his kisses did not feel like home tonight. 
„I will get changed," he announced softly, pushing you away, and you felt your heart fall into your stomach. „Okay, baby, I'll wait here," you smiled slightly, and he nodded, walking inside the changing room.
When he came back, dressed in his casual street wear, you watched him carefully. „Wanna head home?" You asked him curiously, and he nodded. „I could use a nap," he yawned.
Inside the black van, he typed on his phone, „When did you leave?" Your voice brought him back to reality, „4:30 in the morning," and he did not talk to you again for the ride.
And when you entered the house, he went for a shower while you began to cook. Wonwoo was always hungry when he finished a busy schedule.
You heard the bathroom door closing, and Wonwoo walked inside the kitchen dressed in some boxers and a shirt. „I made your favorite." You smiled proudly at him, and he yawned again. „I'm not that hungry, maybe after a nap, but thanks," he said as he walked inside the bedroom without looking back. 
You felt the tears in your eyes, and you grabbed a plate when Mingyu walked in. "Mhm, smells good," he said, looking over your shoulder. "Do you want some?" You filled the plate, and he sat down with you. "Did Wonu already eat?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "No, he's taking a nap." You shrugged. "Is everything alright between you two?" Mingyu asked with concern in his voice, "I guess." You just smiled and got up.
"When Wonwoo is waking up, tell him I'm staying at mine tonight." You put on your shoes. 
"Y/N," Mingyu's voice made you look back. "There will be better times, believe me." You felt a single tear rolling down your cheek. "I really don't know Mingyu," you whispered, and you began your journey home.  Your flat was about 45 minutes away from Minwon's home, and normally Wonwoo would freak out to let you take the bus, especially since your area was not the best. 
You barely slept there anymore since you dated Wonwoo; he had built a small vanity for you with all your cosmetics inside; his wardrobe had extra space for your stuff; and in the shower, your Strawberry Showergel was very prominent. 
Mingyu became your best friend, and you three always went out, watched movies, talked about their day, and asked about yours.
When you arrived at home, you typed in a quick "I'm home xx" to Wonwoo, only to be ignored the entire night.  At first, you thought that maybe he slept through. But you did know that he was awake, and you did know that he went live to play some games. 
So overall, you felt like he was falling out of love with you, and after all, you could never force someone to love you. 
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When you wrote your article for your work project the next day, you saw the notification of their scheduled get-together.  They organized a meet-up with 50 Lucky fans, and they would perform for them. They would eat with them, and after that, they would get the biggest cake ever. 
You were in charge of the cake because Jiyoung, the manager of the boys, forgot about it, but luckily you found a bakery. 
So here you are now, carrying a huge cake inside the venue. With the help of some staff members, you placed it on a stroller. 
"Where's Wonu?" you asked Jiyoung while wiping your hands clean. 
"They're in the dressing room; this is the last outfit change, and then they're done, and you two can go home," he chuckled slightly when he noticed how happy you were. You hurried through the floor, and you could already hear them talking, "Did you hear from Y/N last night?" Mingyu asked his best friend while he got his make-up retouched. 
"She just texted me that she got home safe; I don't even know why she left in the first place," he shrugged. "But you don't like her going home late; she told me you were pretty distant." You could hear how confused Mingyu was. 
"I was kind of relieved to be alone for a while; she's kind of annoying at the moment." You felt your breath hitch. "She always is around me; as if I'm not stressed enough, she tags along to everything." Wonwoo's voice sounded annoyed, and you tried your best not to utter a word. 
"Bro, she is your girlfriend; you barely see her with our schedule, and you really complain when she takes time for you? I would be happy to see Lia every day," Jihoon said, confused and kind of disappointed. 
"I'm fucking tired, okay? I'm fucking annoyed with her; all she does is chase my tail like a lost puppy," he spat and got up to leave the room. Jiyoung walked past you. "Y/N, why are you out here?" he asked, confused while opening the door wider.
Wonwoo's gaze found yours, and he saw the pain in your eyes. "Y/N," he whispered, but you quickly looked away. "I forgot that I have some papers due; I will, uh, I will go home now," you blabbered and bumped against a staff member. 
You realized your wet eyes were the reason why you could not walk straight; you heard footsteps behind you, and then you got pulled against a buff chest. "Hey, you should not drive like this," a Mingyus voice rang through your eyes, and you sobbed. "I don't care; I need to get out of here." You pushed him away. "You heard him, huh?" he sighed. "I sure did, and now I finally know where I stand in his life." You let out a sarcastic laugh. "I won't annoy him anymore." You looked over his shoulder where Wonwoo was looking at you. 
"Baby," he began, but you shook your head. "I won't push you anymore. Don't worry, I will not push you anymore." You shook your head. "I will not be there anymore." With that, you ran out of the building. 
One thing about Seoul is that if you want to get lost, you can. 
You ran along the streets until you did not know where you were. You found a bench where you waited for a Kakao car. The tear stains on your cheek made the driver look concerned, but he drove you to your building regardless, and a small question about whether you were okay in between made you smile slightly. 
You told him that you were okay, but you sure did not feel like it was okay. 
So this is how you found yourself on the couch inside your flat, wearing your fluffy bathrobe after you took a warm bath.  You were craving chicken and beer, so when the doorbell rang, you jumped up. "Coming!" you yelled, grabbing your wallet. 
When you opened the door, Wonwoo was standing in front of you. "Well, not my chicken," you muttered, and he looked at you with his brown eyes; they were bloodshot. "What do you want?" you whispered, and you felt the tears again. "I wanted to see you," he whispered. 
"Oh, you do? I thought you wanted some free time; I thought I'm annoying." You crossed your arms, and Wonwoo closed his eyes. "Can I come inside?" He whispered, "I don't think we should do this; I think we should break off." You whispered, and Wonwoo's eyes widened. "What? No!"
You felt your heartbreak. "I love you, Wonwoo; I love you so much it hurts," you sobbed. "But you called me annoying; you described me as a burden even though I only want to give you love." You walked inside with him behind you. 
"I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy, so I think it's best if I won't be a part of your life; you're stressed all the time, and normally I should be the one to take the stress off your shoulders." You looked at him, and you saw how tears were now streaming down his cheeks. "No, baby, I'm the one to blame; you do nothing but make me happy," he said, taking your hand. 
"This comeback is the biggest we've had so far; it's indescribable; I felt overwhelmed; I felt exhausted and tired; and you were the person that was the closest to me," he choked out a sob. "God, without you, I could not do that; you are my person, baby; you bring me down; I need you." 
"I let out my shit mood at you, and I am so sorry; you're not annoying, fuck no. Youre the best thing I have; I don't want to separate; I want us forever, baby," he cupped your face. "Please don't leave me," he whispered.
You felt like your heart had broken into a thousand pieces. 
"I won't," you whispered, "but please talk to me; please tell me if something's wrong; we are in this together.". 
"God, I love you so much," he whispered, and he kissed you softly. You felt his salty tears on his lips; you felt the need inside this kiss. 
"I love you too." You pulled him closer, and he lifted you up, carrying you inside the bedroom. 
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You were cuddled against his chest, and he played around with your hair. "I missed my mom's death anniversary; because we were on tour, I could not visit her grave; I felt like shit because of this," you sat up straight.
"Nonu baby, your mom would be so proud of you, and she knows where you are right now. Don't break your head over that, okay? We can visit her grave tomorrow; don't be so harsh on yourself," you kissed his cheek. 
"I still feel so bad for what I said," he whispered, and you shrugged. "It happened, Nonu; I know you're sorry." He stroked your cheek with his thumb. "Move in with me," he whispered, and your eyes widened. "What?" you gasped, and he smiled. 
"I want you with me all the time, and Mingyu loves your company." He pulled you onto his lap, and you giggled. "You're sure about that?" He nodded. "God, woman, your neighborhood is a nightmare." 
You pouted, "Not everyone can be rich." You mocked him, and he laughed, "But baby, the perks of me being rich are that I can spoil you." He turned you both around and softly placed kisses along your stomach. 
"But I don't want that," you whimpered, and you felt him smirk against your skin. "I know, but love, I will spoil you anyways."  He parted your legs "because I adore you.". 
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uniquefans · 2 years
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Exhaust Fans
Are you want to buy an exhaust fan? If yes, You are at the right place. We Unique Fans is one of the leading companies over 2 decades offering the best quality high-speed Exhaust Fans for bathrooms & kitchens at the best rates. http://uniquefans.in/product-category/exhaust-fans/
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waynes-multiverse · 6 months
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Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY
Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH
A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)
Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)
Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles
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Cruel Summer
“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”
As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.
But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.
“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.
Painfully hard.
“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.
“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.
“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”
Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.
Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.
I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.
Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.
Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.
Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.
On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.
A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.
But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.
Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.
Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.
“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.
What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.
A hunter gathering panties.
“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.
You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”
“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”
It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.
“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.
The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.
Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:
I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.
You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.
So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.
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Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.
Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.
It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.
With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.
As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.
Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.
So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…
“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.
“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”
You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.
“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”
Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”
You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”
“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.
“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.
“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”
“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”
“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”
“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.
Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”
But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.
“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”
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Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.
The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.
If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.
As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.
With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.
His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.
As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.
God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.
“Dean?!”
The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.
“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.
“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.
Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”
“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”
“Right, uhm…”
“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.
You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.
“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.
Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”
As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”
“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”
“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”
That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.
“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.
Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.
And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.
Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.
“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”
“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.
“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.
Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.
With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.
“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”
You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.
“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.
He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”
“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”
As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”
The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”
You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”
“Well, uhm…”
Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.
“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”
“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.
“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.
“You can do that,” you said with a smile.
“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”
You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”
Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.
“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.
You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”
“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.
“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”
“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.
He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.
You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.
“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”
Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”
Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.
With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.
“Hop on, sweetheart.”
And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.
Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.
The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).
And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.
As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.
With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.
His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.
Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.
You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.
As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.
“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.
Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”
Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?
But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”
You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.
“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.
You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”
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Was it worth the words? 😝
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punkshort · 9 months
Text
somewhere to run | 1. a fresh start
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: After you settle into your tiny, dingy apartment safely in the middle of nowhere, you go on the hunt for a job to help make ends meet. There, you meet someone who forces back memories you would rather forget.
Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, PTSD-type symptoms
WC: 6K
Series Masterlist
Anybody else who walked into the small, one bedroom apartment you were currently standing in would most likely be revolted. The kitchen faucet dripped incessantly, the toilet was stained, the carpet looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a decade, and the entire place smelled like garlic from the pizza place downstairs. But when you looked at it, you smiled. You could work with this. Rummaging around the dollar store bags you left on the kitchen counter, you pulled out all of the cleaning supplies you picked up and got to work.
The landlord - who also happened to be the owner of the pizza place - seemed surprised you wanted to rent it. He said the place had been vacant for close to a year, and considering the state, he knocked off quite a bit on the price. But you could see the potential beyond the grime, and you never shied away from a little hard work, so you jumped at the opportunity. It took you almost the whole day, but you managed to get the place smelling halfway decent. The bathroom and kitchen both looked sparkling new - well, relatively. The only thing you couldn't figure out was the faucet, but that concerned you the least since your landlord said that utilities were included.
Aside from the low rent, the next best thing about the place was it came partially furnished. It had a queen bed, a beat up sofa, and a rickety dining room table, but that was all you needed. At this point, you were just happy to not be staying in another dirty motel. You were ready to find a home, plant down some roots, and start fresh. And Fredericksburg, Texas was just as good a town as any.
You were surprised by how cute the town was when you first drove down Main Street. It was quiet and quaint, and very much had a small town atmosphere. When you were at the dollar store, you had overheard the cashier making conversation with every single customer as if she had known them all her life. By the time it was your turn to cash out, she examined you quizzically, most likely trying to place you, but fortunately she let it go and didn't pry. You weren't in the mood to make up more lies. You were exhausted from being on the road so much the past few weeks, and you just wanted to collapse into bed in a somewhat clean room.
And that is exactly what you did, after you stocked the small fridge with some essentials from the grocery store at the corner of the street so you would at least have coffee and something to eat in the morning.
As you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan swirling above, you silently thanked your grandmother all those years ago who told you since you were old enough to understand when you meet a man, keep your own bank account. At the time, you laughed, wondering why on earth anyone would purposely keep secrets from their partner. That it seemed like such a betrayal to even suggest it. But luckily for you, when you met Patrick, you already had your own bank account. You let it lie dormant for a while, almost forgetting you had it. Eventually, you told yourself you should close the account. But that required going down to the branch in person, and you never seemed to find the time to do it. Or maybe some part of you always knew there was something ugly about him, and maybe your grandmother's words had more of an effect on you than you realized.
Whatever it was, it's the reason you were able to find a shitty little apartment in the middle of nowhere without anybody being able to track you down. And for the first time in a long time, you closed your eyes and felt safe.
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The next morning, after you drank your surprisingly palatable off brand coffee and ate a borderline stale blueberry muffin, you headed down the steps of your apartment to the sidewalk lining Main Street. You took a deep breath and looked around, a small smile playing on your lips. The town was just waking up, businesses just opening their doors, cars rolling lazily down the street. You had your own car - it was an old Honda Civic that you weren't entirely sure had many years left - but you wouldn't need it today. Picking an apartment on the main drag in town afforded you the option to walk almost anywhere. So you chose a direction and started walking, glancing in the windows of the shops, looking for any help wanted signs.
You tried a small clothing boutique and a coffee shop before entering the pharmacy. There wasn't a help wanted sign out front, but you needed to pick up a few things, anyway. Things the dollar store didn't have, or things you didn't exactly trust to buy there.
You grabbed a basket by the door and smiled at the teenager behind the counter who greeted you before heading down the first aisle. You snagged some generic pain reliever and a box of tampons before you made your way to the hair products. Flipping open the caps, you took a hesitant sniff and put them back before deciding on a cheaper bottle that smelled like strawberries and didn't make you gag. Dropping the bottles in your basket, you wandered past the makeup, looking at it longingly but knowing you wouldn't waste the money on it. Instead, you stopped in front of an end-cap where a display of chapstick caught your eye.
"Sarah?" you heard a deep voice call from behind. You ignored it and kept looking at the display, landing on a vanilla scent as the man walked past. You didn't see his face, but you smelled his cologne, and you instantly recoiled. Your heart began to slam in your chest and your throat felt tight. You squeezed your eyes shut as you focused on taking deep breaths. It's not him, it's not him, it's not him.
"Excuse me, can I grab one of those?" a girl's voice said softly behind you. Taking a shaky step back, you nodded and forced a weak smile.
"Sorry, of course," you told her. She had beautiful, dark brown eyes and thick hair with tight curls framing her face. She looked like she was in her early teens, and based on the backpack over her shoulders, you were probably right.
"Sarah?" you heard the voice call again, and you saw her eyes flick up. You realized the man with the cologne was probably related to her, and you weren't sure you would be able to handle smelling it again, so you quickly took off down the next aisle to hide, waiting until their voices carried them to the cash registers and out the front door before taking a few steadying breaths and forcing yourself to move.
Minor setback aside, you had a pretty good morning. You found you had some luck at the diner a few blocks over. The owner took a liking to you right away and interviewed you on the spot.
"You came at the perfect time, darlin'," he said, taking a seat across from you. "Just missed the breakfast rush, so I got the time to talk right now. Name's Tommy," he said, extending his hand. You smiled and shook it, introducing yourself, then quickly brought your hand back to your lap to nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt.
"You ever work in a restaurant before?"
"Uh, yeah, it's been a few years. But I think it's like riding a bike. I have really good time management skills, I have experience handling cash, I'm friendly, I'm great at anticipating customer's needs-"
Tommy laughed and patted his hand on the table.
"Sounds like you got more skills than half the waitstaff I already got. Some of the older ladies ain't exactly friendly, but they've been here so long, no one seems to mind," he explained quietly with a wink. You chuckled and glanced down at your hands.
"You from around here? I don't think I recognize you," he asked, his eyebrows pinching together. You shook your head.
"Nope, just moved here." You briefly wondered if you should lie - you were so used to lying at this point, it came as second nature - but you couldn't see what it would hurt to tell him the truth. "I'm from Pennsylvania. Just got in last night, actually."
"Long way from home, what brought you here?" he asked, leaning back to study you. You just shrugged.
"Looking for a fresh start," you said honestly. If you were really looking to start over, the lying needed to stop, too.
Tommy nodded and glanced behind you before meeting your gaze again.
"Well, you're hired. If you want the job, that is," he said. You grinned, not expecting that.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. When can you start?"
"Uh, tomorrow?" you offered, your mind racing. You weren't sure if you would need new clothes so you wanted to give yourself the rest of the day, at least, to prepare.
"Works for me. Maria," Tommy called over your shoulder. You turned around and saw a beautiful woman with long, dark braids walking over. He introduced her as his wife, who also happened to be the hostess. You stood to shake her hand, exchanging warm smiles as Tommy told her your name.
"Why don't you come by tomorrow 'round 9 and Maria can show you the ropes? I work the kitchen, she's got the floor," he explained, and you nodded along excitedly.
"I'll be here," you confirmed, the grin still plastered on your face. Tommy left to head back to the kitchen as Maria told you what you needed to bring the next day. You took out your new phone and began jotting down everything she mentioned.
On the way back home, you stopped to pick up a pair of nonslip sneakers from a shoe store. Maria had given you a couple plain black skirts and black t-shirts with the diner's logo that all of the waitresses wore as their uniform before you left. To celebrate, you got a pizza from the pizza place below your apartment and watched old reruns on the ancient TV in your living room.
Things were finally starting to come together.
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"Refills are free. Cream and sugar is down here, along with any extra condiments. Coffee should be made every hour but you'll go through the pot long before that," Maria said to you, pointing as she walked behind the counter. "Here's some extra notepads and pens. The computer system is kind of old but pretty easy to use. Tommy'll ring the bell when food is up, we try to move it as quick as possible before it gets cold, even if it's not your table," she said, turning around to face you. "It might take some time to learn the table numbers but we have a little cheat sheet next to all the registers. And if you're ever not sure, don't hesitate to ask."
"I think I got it," you said confidently, tapping your pen against your notepad.
"You can shadow with Betty today, she's been here for decades, long before Tommy and me ever bought the place. She knows her shit forwards and backwards," Maria said, leading you back to the kitchen where you saw an older, round woman struggling with a cardboard box.
"Here, let me help," you told her, rushing over to take the box from her.
"Thanks, sweetie," she said with a smile. "Can you take it up front for me?"
"Of course," you said, following her through the kitchen.
Maria introduced you to Betty as you helped her stock the ketchup bottles underneath the front counter. You heard Tommy's voice call for Maria through the kitchen window and she excused herself, leaving the two of you to tend to the only two customers in the place.
The morning went by quickly. Betty was nicer than you expected. In your experience, when a newcomer joins a seasoned team, it sometimes takes time for the veterans to warm up, but she seemed very eager to show you the ropes, and she had the patience of a saint. All of the customers seemed to know her name and history, some occasionally asking about her husband or her children. As it inched closer to noon, the diner started getting busier again, so you began to branch out a bit on your own, taking a few simple orders and delivering food or refills whenever you could. Betty was deep in conversation with a regular when she waved you over.
"D'you mind takin' care of him?" she asked, nodding over to the man who just sat down. "That's Joel, Tommy's brother. Don't charge him for nothin', he comes in all the time."
You nodded and pulled your pen and notepad out of your apron as you headed over to greet him. When you finally lifted your gaze, you noticed he was wearing a worn, brown suit with a striped tie and as you got closer, you saw the little gold star pinned to his belt and the bulge of a handgun under his blazer.
Your breath got caught in your throat when you made the realization he's a cop.
It's fine, it's fine, it's fine you kept repeating to yourself, forcing your feet to move. You thought you were okay by the time you stood in front of him, but then his cologne invaded your senses, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck.
Fortunately, his head was bent down looking at the menu and didn't see your reaction, which afforded you a few precious seconds to collect yourself. It's not him.
"Hey Betty, I'll have-" he glanced up and realized you were not, in fact, Betty. His warm brown eyes trailed over your face for a moment too long, making you shift your weight nervously.
"Sorry, didn't uh - have we met?" he asked, his eyes unblinking as he continued to stare, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. It's fine, you're fine.
"No," you finally managed to squeak out, shaking your head and introducing yourself right as his eyes drifted to your name tag. "What can I get for you?"
You needed to walk away. You weren't sure how much longer you could stand there smelling that fucking cologne and staring at that badge. But for some reason, he didn't answer you. Maybe if you weren't so wrapped up in your own issues, you would have recognized the look in his eye. The look that clearly expressed interest beyond you taking his food order. And maybe, if you weren't so messed up, you would have realized he was insanely handsome. Maybe, if you could have seen past the cologne and the gold star on his waist, you would have noticed how plush his lips looked, or how big and strong his hands were. You had no idea how you could possibly miss how broad his shoulders were or how thick and soft the messy, dark curls were on top of his head.
But you did miss all of those things the first time you saw him, because he just kept staring and the scent was making your stomach turn and the fluorescent light was shining too brightly off that damn star, so you repeated yourself with a little more edge to your voice than you usually had.
He finally snapped out of it and glanced down at the menu, quickly telling you his order. You wrote it down and held your breath, only letting it go once you were around the corner and far enough away. He comes in all the time, Betty's words replayed in your mind. You were either going to need to find a way to deal with your issues, or find a new job.
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"Hiya, Joel. New girl take care of you?" Betty asked as she ambled over to refill his coffee. His eyes flicked around the diner, following your form as you smiled and chatted warmly with other customers.
"Yeah, when did she start?" he asked, trying to sound noncommittal, but Betty saw right through it.
"Today," she told him with a smirk. "Real smart. Pretty, too, don'tcha think?"
"Uh," Joel stammered before clearing his throat. "Yeah, suppose so."
"I think she's single," Betty told him, leaning up against the counter.
"When are you gonna quit tryin' to set me up with every woman in this town?" Joel asked her with a grin.
"Whenever you decide to finally settle down," she shot right back. "You need a woman in your life, Joel."
"Do you do this to all your customers, Betty? Grill 'em 'bout their love lives and tell 'em what they need, like you know best?"
"I do know best, Joel," she said with a wink. "And you know it."
"Yeah, well. I got my hands full with Sarah and work down at the station. Don't got time for all that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee.
"Sarah's 'bout to be goin' off to college before you know it, and there ain't nearly enough crime in this town to keep you that busy," she said with a shake of her head.
Joel mumbled something under his breath before taking another sip of coffee and glancing around the dining room.
"What was that?" Betty asked, leaning in and cupping her ear. Joel sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Don't think she likes me much, anyway," he said, clearer now.
"Oh, well I can find out for you, sugar. All you gotta do is ask." Betty gave Joel the biggest shit eating grin she could muster. He took a deep breath before asking what he knew would be a huge mistake, but he suddenly needed to know the answer.
"Can you..." he trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek and staring down at the closed menu.
"Can I what?"
Joel groaned and dragged his eyes back up to Betty.
"Can you find out if she'd be interested?" he finally spit out, and Betty clapped her hands.
"Of course I will, Joel! I would absolutely love to," she gushed, and he rolled his eyes again. Just then, he saw you come around the corner and go behind the counter, completely ignoring the two of you before reaching up to the kitchen window and grabbing his lunch. You turned around and gave him what looked to be a forced smile and carefully set the plate down in front of him with a bottle of ketchup. Betty took a step back and watched with a glimmer in her eye as Joel's neck began to flush.
"Can I get you anything else?" you asked. Your voice sounded sweet and you were smiling, but your smile didn't reach your eyes. Maybe he was reading too much into it.
"Nope, all set, thank you," he said, giving you a warm smile in return, but before he even had a chance to say anything else, to try to make a connection and learn more about you, you scurried away. He glanced over at Betty and raised his eyebrows.
"See?"
She waved him off and picked up a rag to wipe down the counter.
"She's just nervous, is all."
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The embarrassment still sat with you by the time you arrived back to your apartment that evening. When Betty caught you off guard and asked what you thought of Joel, you couldn't turn down the idea fast enough. You must have looked and sounded crazy based on her reaction. Your only saving grace was Joel had already left the diner and didn't hear you vehemently tell her you wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't his fault, you weren't interested in hurting his feelings, but you were far too vulnerable still. The wounds were too fresh and the memories were too strong.
Besides, even if you weren't in the unfortunate position you were in, you wouldn't feel right dragging even more people down with you. You dug this grave, so you had to dig yourself out. And you were on the right track, too. As far as you knew, nobody knew where you were. You were incredibly careful, you kept a low profile, and you didn't contact a single person back home. You had no idea who you could even trust anymore, so the safest bet was to just cut all ties and start over.
You weren't going to risk everything by getting involved with some guy. Okay, he was more like a man. But still. Your situation was far too complicated to get involved with anybody. Technically, you shouldn't get involved with anybody.
No, it was a very bad idea.
So why couldn't you stop thinking about him?
"Stop it," you muttered out loud to yourself as you paced around your little apartment. With a huff, you picked up the small potted plant you bought on clearance and gave it a little bit of water from the dripping kitchen sink before putting it back on the windowsill.
Remember what he smelled like? Remember he's a cop?
That did the trick. Those two simple reminders erased all prior thoughts about the handsome sheriff who visited the diner earlier that day.
And as you tucked yourself into bed that night, you convinced yourself the only reason who were momentarily intrigued by the man's interest was flattery. You were simply flattered someone looked at you in that way. It's been a long time since anybody had, and it just made you feel good.
Yep, that's all it was.
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When Joel sat down at the counter the next day and was greeted by Betty instead of you, he was surprised to find he was disappointed. He had just met you, he knew nothing about you, he barely even spoke to you. Why should he care if you were waiting on him today or not?
"She ain't here," Betty said when she caught Joel glancing around the dining room. He tried not to look deflated.
"Who?"
Betty laughed heartily at that and had to pause to catch her breath so she wouldn't spill his coffee.
"Listen, Joel," she said, setting the coffee pot down and leaning on the counter. "Remember what I said yesterday? 'Bout how I always know what's best?"
"Yeah," he said slowly, eyeing her up and bracing for what was coming next.
"Well, turns out I might have been wrong. There's a first time for everythin', right?" she said, forcing a laugh that he didn't reciprocate.
"What'dya mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I don't think she's interested in datin' anyone right now," was all she said, and he felt the disappointment instantly flood his veins. He didn't even realize how much he had been hoping his instinct was wrong, that maybe he misread you, but of course he was right. He was a cop, after all. He was good at reading people, it's what he was trained to do.
"That's it?"
"I don't know, Joel. Maybe she's not into men, I didn't ask any more questions," she said. "Besides, I was thinkin'. Margaret's daughter is back in town. You remember Nikki?"
Joel shrugged and turned back to his coffee. He remembered Nikki. He wasn't interested in Nikki. She was a nice girl, but he didn't feel anything when he looked at her. Not like the way he felt when he looked at you.
"Now I know for a fact that Nikki's had a crush on you since you were in high school. I could talk to Margaret at church this weekend..."
"No thanks," Joel said immediately, then glanced at his watch before standing up and tossing a tip down on the table. "Gotta get back to work, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
He turned on his heel and left before Betty had a chance to reply.
What a stupid idea. What did he expect would actually happen? That you would fall in love with him after he spoke barely three sentences to you? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Hey, Joel," he heard the owner of the hardware shop call out to him in greeting as he walked by.
"Hey, Lee. How's it goin'?" Joel stopped outside the open door to the shop, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Lee sweep the floor.
"Can't complain. 'Cept, you get any leads on those vandals? Someone's been drawin' obscene things on the street signs over on Willow." Lee lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder before adding "someone even drew a phallic image on a deer crossin' sign."
Joel had to stifle a chuckle because he knew the old man was completely serious.
"I'm on it, Lee. Promise, I'll get to the bottom of it," he said with a nod.
A clatter deep within the store pulled both of their attention toward the noise.
"You alright back there, miss?" Lee called, peering down the aisle. Joel's breath caught in his throat when he heard your voice.
"Yeah, sorry! Just dropped something," you replied, emerging from the aisle looking a little flustered and holding an array of tools in your hands. You stiffened before you even laid eyes on him, like you could sense him before even seeing he was there. Joel couldn't help but take it a little personally. Why were you so sweet and friendly to Lee and other customers at the diner, but so cold to him?
You glanced his way nervously and he tried to give you a reassuring smile, maybe even a quick hello, but you immediately turned to address Lee, asking him questions on how to fix a kitchen faucet. Joel watched as Lee picked out the right tool for you and explained how to fix it, but it was clear as day you were having a hard time following. Lee must have noticed as well.
"You ever fix anythin' 'round a house, sweetheart?" Lee asked, and a little pink dusted your cheeks, making Joel's heart flutter in his chest.
"Is it that obvious?" you asked him with a sweet smile. Why wouldn't you look at him like that?
Lee laughed good-naturedly before turning to Joel.
"Joel, would you mind helpin' her out? Her place's on the way back to the station."
Your smile fell and you instantly shook your head, eyes widening as you clutched the tool in your hand.
"N-no, that's okay, I can manage," you said, first to Lee, then braved a glance in his direction before dropping your eyes to the floor.
A big part of Joel told himself to just give up, just let you be and ignore whatever it was that made you dislike him so much. But he just couldn't do it.
"Not a problem, it should just take a second," Joel finally said, tilting his head to look at you. "Where d'you live?"
He could tell you were incredibly uncomfortable now, and he wondered if he should stop pushing it. It looked like you could hardly breathe as you stared at the floor and considered your options.
"Just a few blocks that way," you said meekly, pointing north up Main Street. Joel pushed himself off the doorframe and stood aside so you could squeeze through without getting too close to him, and for that you seemed grateful. He nodded to Lee before following you down the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he tried to think of something to say.
"You likin' it here so far?"
"Uh huh," you replied, your gaze trained straight ahead. The pair of you walked in an awkward silence for another minute before he tried again.
"You got a place right on Main?"
"Above the pizza parlor," you said, and before he could follow up with another question, you suddenly stopped walking. He turned around when he realized and gave you a confused look.
"I really appreciate the offer, but I think I can figure out the sink for myself," you told him, forcing yourself to look into his eyes this time when you spoke.
"It's no trouble. It's what we all do 'round here, we help each other out," he replied. You fidgeted with the strap of your purse and averted your gaze. He waited for you to weigh your options, not wanting to pressure you but also not ready to give up, either. Finally, you spoke.
"You said it'll be quick?"
He grinned and nodded.
"Less than ten minutes."
You sighed and forced yourself to continue walking.
"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind..."
"I'm sure."
You walked in silence the rest of the way to your apartment. Joel seemed nice enough, and you could probably even get over the fact he was a cop, but you just couldn't get past the fucking cologne. It permeated every molecule of air whenever he was near, and you couldn't stop the horrible memories that came flooding back. You knew you would end up regretting allowing him into your apartment because you would end up spending the rest of the day trying to rid your little sanctuary of that scent. But you were weak. You never were very good at saying no. And this time was no exception.
You unlocked the front door and Joel held it open while you led him up the creaky stairs, then unlocked the second door at the top that led directly into your small apartment. He closed the door behind him and glanced around, taking in your space for the first time.
"Cozy," he finally said, and you let out a soft chuckle.
"You could say that," you replied. The room wasn't very big, but he noticed the moment you both entered, you put as much space between the two of you as you could. Your eyes were flicking around the room anxiously, your back against the only window and your fingers clutching the tool to your chest, toying with it nervously. He took a couple steps towards you and your fidgeting stopped. You dragged your gaze up to his as he studied your curious behavior. If it wasn't obvious before, it was crystal clear now: he made you incredibly uncomfortable.
Rather than make things worse, he stopped halfway across the room and just held out his hand. You stared at it, unmoving and barely breathing before he cleared his throat.
"Wrench?"
"Oh," you said softly, letting out a shaky breath before taking a step forward and handing him the tool you had just bought. He took it and gave you one more look before turning back towards the small kitchen. He shrugged off his blazer and draped it over the back of a chair, and your throat went dry when you clocked the gun on his waist.
You watched him warily as he flicked on the overhead light and fiddled with the lever of the sink before opening the cabinets underneath and peering inside at the plumbing. You hardly moved a muscle as you watched him. You wished you could light the scented candle on your table to help minimize the cologne, but you were too nervous he would find that suggestive. The silence became deafening as he worked, and you felt compelled to say something.
"Can I get you some water?"
He stopped what he was doing and gave you a small smirk.
"As long as it ain't from the tap," he said, tilting his head towards the faucet he currently had taken apart. You smiled and walked quickly over to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water. He noticed your fingers shaking slightly when you handed him the water, and he frowned.
"You alright?"
"Me?" you squeaked, as if there were anyone else in the room he could be addressing. He nodded slowly and unscrewed the cap, still staring at you.
"I'm fine," you assured him, but still took a few paces back to stand next to your window again. Far away from him. He looked you up and down as he took a sip of his water before setting the bottle down on the counter.
"I can tell you got some issue with me," he began, and you stilled, watching him carefully from across the room, clutching the water bottle tightly against your chest. You shook your head quickly, but he held out a hand to stop you.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable at the diner," he said.
"W-what do you mean?" you stammered.
"Betty," he added, raising his eyebrows. "She's got a tendency to stick her nose where it don't belong, and I know she said somethin' to you 'bout me. I just wanted to apologize if that put you in tough spot."
"Oh, that's alright," you told him, quickly waving him off. He chewed the corner of his mouth as he studied your surprisingly relaxed response. So Betty's prying wasn't the problem.
"You gotta give me somethin' here," he said after a moment, and you dropped your gaze to your feet. "What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything," you said softly, your eyes still pinned to the floor.
"Then why can't you stand lookin' at me for more than five seconds?" he asked, desperate now to know the answer.
"Does it matter?" you whispered.
"I wish it didn't," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. You finally looked up at him now, taking in his hurt expression, and you felt your resolve crumbling. What happened to you wasn't this man's fault.
"What does that mean?" you asked him, and it was his turn to look away.
"Nothin'," he finally mumbled, his heart slamming against his chest.
"It's your cologne," you blurted out, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn't expecting that.
"My... cologne?"
"It's nothing personal, I'm just sensitive to smells." He knew you were lying. Your entire apartment smelled like garlic and marinara sauce from the pizza place downstairs. But he decided not to push it.
"My daughter - Sarah - she got it for me for Father's Day. Truth be told, I don't like it much, either," he told you, and much to his relief, he saw the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile.
"I'm sorry," you said quietly. He just shrugged and turned back to the sink.
"Nothin' for you to be sorry 'bout. Thought I offended you or somethin', is all," he told you as he worked on putting the faucet back together.
You took a few tentative steps closer to peer over his shoulder.
"Can you show me what you did to fix it?" you asked. He straightened up to look at you and twirled the wrench in his hand, deciding to be bold.
"If I do that, then I won't have an excuse to come see you when it breaks again."
You bit your lip to hide your smile as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He grinned and turned back to the sink. Maybe he still had a chance. He was nearly finished, but he showed mercy on you and explained what he did, anyway.
Once he was done, you walked him down to the first floor, thanking him profusely along the way.
"Don't mention it," he said, shoving his arms through his blazer as he walked, but turned back before you closed the door.
"Will I see you tomorrow?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gazed up at him. Now that you were back outside and the scent wasn't so strong, you allowed yourself to acknowledge that Joel was a good looking man. A really good looking man. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you cursed Patrick for ruining so many things for you, but you were afraid the worst thing he might have actually ruined for you was Joel.
You slowly nodded, then he grinned and tilted his head to the side.
"You have yourself a good rest of the day, sweetheart."
You felt yourself blush at the term of endearment, but luckily he had already turned away.
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Taglist: @harriedandharassed @merz-8 @sarap-77
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1K notes · View notes
tyunphoria · 1 year
Text
🌪️it’s a scream, BABY ! — h.js
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- - - - -
⚠️NSFW CONTENT⚠️
- - - - -
ghostface!han jisung x reader
SYPNOSIS: when you thought you finally escaped that psycho who calls himself ghostface . . . think again. he always finds you.
INCLUDES: AFAB reader, ex!bf han jisung, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), slight angst near the end if you squint, SMUTTT, aftercare, ngl kinda rushed oops.
WARNINGS: obsessive behaviour, threatening, mentions of death and murders, han having slight yandere tendencies, DOM!han, fingering, hair pulling, dacryphilia, praise, implied voice kink, knife play, fear play, finger-sucking, rough sex ig idk, begging.
wc: 3.7k
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You approach the front door with relief, the aches in your feet swelling after a long day. "I'm home," you call out wearily.
Silence responds. No clattering of dishes from the kitchen, no muffled music from upstairs. Just the low whine of machinery emanating from somewhere.
Frowning, you kick off your heels, biting your lip against the sting of fresh blisters forming at the back of your ankles. Your shoulders slump as you drop onto the couch, its faded pattern doing little to lift your spirits.
Wincing, you massage the ache from your feet, inspecting the angry skin stretched tight over your swollen heels. Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the steady hum of the fan fades into the background. You lean your head back, eyes drifting shut against the gathering gloom. Slipping off your shoes was the first victory of what promises to be a long night ahead.
Laundry, mopping the floor, cleaning out the cupboards; fuck it, that can wait till tomorrow morning.
Sliding the uniform jacket from your shoulders, you sigh with the release of tension. The cool air hits your skin as you unbutton your work blouse, revealing a tank top beneath.
You adjust your skirt, glad to be free of the restrictive waistband and back into casual clothes. Glancing at the clock, you let out a sigh. Your roommate must be still working out late again. So much for a promised and well deserved girl’s night.
For now, though, you tune out the noise and settle further into the couch. Remote in hand, you aimlessly scroll through TV options in search of a mindless distraction. Anything to pull your exhausted mind from the drudgery of the day.
2 years, you frown.
It’s been two years since you’ve moved to seoul after the ghostface attacks from your hometown. You were lucky enough to survive, but the price of your survival was steep. It entailed enduring the loss of friends and family.
Till this day, it’s still a mystery as to who the killer was. Rather, killers as some people theorize.
But you know who he is.
You knew ghostface all too well.
How could you not ? He was the man you once loved and cared for. Until he went batshit insane and claimed to only be doing what’s best for the both of you by killing anyone who came in between your relationship.
You can’t tell the police. You can’t tell anyone. If his name happens to get leaked in the public, you’re the first person he’d go for.
“Stop thinking about him,” you groan, rubbing your temples. He’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere, why stress over it ? You settle on the news channel instead as you slump further into the couch.
“We interrupt your regular programming with breaking news. This is Lee Dae-suk reporting live from the scene. Just moments ago, authorities received a distress call by a janitor from HYBE Co.” you quickly sit up from your seat as you hear these words. That’s where you worked . . .
“Upon arrival, they discovered a chilling scene that has left investigators and the community in shock,” the reporter continues on with how there were two victims from your workplace suffering from injury and were rushed to the er, and the other two were found dead. “. . . the initials G.F. were carved on their chests. Detectives suspect that this traces back to the ghostface attacks of 2021 in [hometown]. We advise all citizens of seoul to be on high alert for potential suspects. Law enforcement officials advises everyone to stay indoors no longer than nine.
We will keep our viewers informed as this case unfolds. We now return to your regular scheduled programming brought to you by—“
You grab the remote and quickly shut off the tv.
“Shit, please f/n, answer your phone,” you gnaw on your nails whilst pacing around the living room. If this is the same ghostface, he must’ve followed you. It would be all your fault for leading him here. The thought makes you sick.
You dial her number again with shaking hands, desperate for an answer.
“Hey—“
“F/n!”
“you’ve reached f/n’s voice mail ! i’ll call you back when—“
“Fuck !” You exclaimed, throwing your phone onto the couch in frustration. The worry and fear is eating you alive. You try calling again and again, each unanswered ring twisting the knot of anxiety in your stomach tighter. With a sigh of defeat, you finally slump down on the couch, cradling your head in your hands.
"She'll be fine...she has to be fine," you say quietly to yourself, taking a slow, steadying breath. But before you can fully calm your racing mind, your phone suddenly rings, the sound jolting through you. Your heart leaps into your throat as you don’t bother checking the caller ID before picking it up with trembling hands.
“Hello ? F/n ?”
- “hey, baby.”
replied a deep, gravelly, modulated voice.
- “miss me ?”
Your breath hitched as you froze. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes flicker to the open blinds.
“Ghostface.” You acknowledge. From the other line, you could hear him click his tongue in disapproval.
- “I prefer the nickname ‘darling’.”
“What the fuck do you want, Jisung ?” You tried not to show any signs of fear but the slight tremble in your voice says so otherwise.
“What ? Aren’t you gonna go ask me what my favourite scary movie is ?” You made your way in the kitchen as your hand inched to grab a knife.
- “I have a better question. Do you like games, y/n ?”
You pass your index finger between the various knives on the rack, fingers wrapping around the biggest handle.
“Fuck you.”
Jisung can be heard chuckling. His laugh made your stomach twist. What sick bastard thinks all of this is just a game ?
- “Even with that knife in your hand, you’re still as beautiful as ever. And the look of fear in your face ? It’s fucking hot, baby . . .”
You feel your heart starting to race as you flinch and turn around, all your senses now activated.
- “Tell me, are you gonna stab poor ol’ ghostface with that knife ? You aren’t any better from me, y/n.”
He was taunting you and you knew that.
You end the call after telling him that he could go fuck himself before rushing over to the windows and locking them shut. Same goes for the door as well while you clutch the edge of the dinner table as if your body were threatening to collapse.
The phone vibrates in your hand, except this time it wasn’t a call but a notification from the unknown number.
Your hands begin to shake once again as you huff and puff to regain composure, clicking on the notification to reveal a video.
A video of f/n entering her car.
You jumped at another vibration. He’s trying to call you again. The whole situation was frustrating — not only were you scared as shit, also a bit agitated with how he wasn’t just threatening you but your loved ones as well.
You peer down the halls, silently peeking at every room. When you finally accept the call, your heart drops at his words.
- “Hang up on me again, I dare you. I’ll mail this bitch’s head at your door, don’t fucking test me, y/n.”
The violence of his threat burned your eyes but you had no choice but to swallow back your tears. You’d just have to listen, so no one else got hurt. You can’t bear losing anyone—not again . .
“Jisung,” you close your eyes as a shuddered breath escapes your lips. “I’ll listen. I’ll do anything you want, okay ? Just please, don’t hurt anyone.”
He slightly softens at your pleas. Jisung still loves you, with all his heart and he wishes for nothing more than to go back to how things used to be. But he knew better than that, he's already far too deep to return with how he used to be.
- “Such a good girl for me . . . See how easy it is to obey ?”
Despite the fear, you cursed at the way he still had an affect on you. Somewhere in him, it’s still the same Han Jisung you’ve grown to love. The feelings you’ve stored away after all these years were beginning to resurface, and you were ashamed to admit it.
- “hm, what game, what game . . . Have you ever heard of the game hot and cold ?”
You nod, clutching the phone tighter. Words were stuck in your throat and you knew he could see you though he seemed to be dissatisfied.
- “Use your words, beautiful.”
His nicknames are starting to trigger a reaction that you hadn’t expected and felt so guilty. Heat spreads through your body, and shamefully enough, between your legs.
“I have,” you stammer.
- “Alright. Here’s the deal; find me and all of this’ll be over. I’ll leave you alone. Sounds like a plan ?” It seems all too good to be true. Find him and then what ? Will you have to just trust his word and believe that you’ll be finally left alone ?
- “Better start looking, I’m getting impatient here, princess.”
After a few minutes, neither of you spoke. The silence is weighing heavily down on your shoulders. The thought of not knowing where he is and him being able to pop out and slice you at any moment now increased your degree of fear. You walk out of the living room and open your roommate’s door, switching the light on.
- “cold.”
You grumble in response and made your way to your own bed room, eyes landing on the doors of your closet. Hands inching closer to the handles, you hear his breathing become more erratic making you pause.
- “Why’d you stop, baby ? Perhaps I’m in there.”
Your hands trembled as you grab the handles of your closet and pulled it wide open with eyes closed. To your surprise, he wasn’t there.
- “keep looking, sweetheart.” He laughs tauntingly. “Remember, this isn’t some cliche horror movie. The closet, really ?”
- “What's next ? The basement ?”
“Fuck you !” You didn’t wanna play this game anymore. By the time you found him, you’d be dead from a heart attack.
You exit your room and keep walking.
- “still cold.”
Sighing in annoyance, you head for the opposite direction, about to pass the bathroom till he spoke.
- “warmer.”
Taking a deep breath, the door creaks open as you step inside, flicking the light switch on. You inch closer to the shower curtain, letting out a tiny whimper.
- “You’re getting so warm. Very good, baby.”
You never had a thing for praise till now and let me just say that shit made your knees buckle. You wish you could just tell him to stop messing with you, the whole situation itself was already confusing enough.
- “Now you’re boiling.”
You grip the shower curtain and throw it open.
Nothing.
Absolutely, nothing.
“Bastard,” you groan. “Show yourself, asshole ! I’ll beat the shit out of you !“
- “hey now, no need to get violent. Keep talking to me like that and I’ll fuck that attitude out of you,” han spat.
“I’m done with your shit. Grow a pair and come at me, why don’t you ?” You held your phone tightly in your hand you could’ve crushed it. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass of water to soothe your dry throat. You laugh in realization, “I doubt you’re even here. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I fell for it. How else could you send the video if her work’s like miles and miles away ?”
- “you asked for it. No backing out, ‘kay babe ?”
You pause. “What ?”
You immediately drop the glass along with your phone as a gloved hand reaches from behind to clasp over your mouth. Letting out a muffled scream, you thrash in his grasp, reaching to grab the knife from the counter but his free hand swiftly takes hold of both of your wrists and binding them behind your back as the masked man hunches you over the counter.
“Surprise, y/n.”
Tears blur your vision with your screams and whimpers getting muffled by jisung’s glove. He lets go, giving you some time to catch your breath.
“Let go, jisung !”
He inhales audibly, bringing you tight against him. “Scared, sweetheart ? I know you want this as much as I do . . . Think I didn’t notice the way you were practically soaking wet with just my voice ?” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. “Such a naughty, naughty girl.”
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. A moan threatens to leave your mouth but you manage to bite your lip. His hand inches lower, slipping through the waistband of your shorts, clenching your thighs to refrain from giving him access.
“Open those legs for me, pretty girl,” he clicks his tongue, getting impatient.
“Burn in hell.”
With that little comment, he rips off your shorts along with your lacy panties. A new complaint comes from the back of your throat and you start to squirm and thrash again, unconsciously moving your ass against his clothed cock to push him away.
He snickers, keeping you pinned on the counter. “Impatient, are we ?” He lifts his robe and tugs his sweatpants down. Han jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.
“I missed you,” he rips his mask off, trailing kissing along your neck while he taps the flat of the knife against your cheek. “So fucking much . . .”
“What do you want ?” You gulp, melting in his tight embrace. God, you missed this. You missed him.
“You.” He rolls his eyes, “thought it was pretty obvious, but guess i have to spell it out.”
Han lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and stomach, applying more pressure afterwards to slice your tank top open. The cold air hitting your hardened nipples and the knife lightly dragging along your breasts made you gasp and arch your back against him.
He teases your cunt with the handle, dragging the object along your folds as he circles your clit with it. “Like that, sweetheart ?”
You moan as he smiles at the cry he drew from you.
“Use your words, baby,”
You took a shaky breath, hips swaying. “Fuck you, han jisung.”
He plasters on an amused smile as he shoves the handle in your cunt.
“I really gotta fix that nasty attitude of yours.” He says, taking his glove off.
He replaces the handle with his fingers, gently curling them as he moves it in and out your sopping pussy. You draw out a long whine, legs trembling and you could barely keep yourself up. “Oh god…. Fuck, jisung….”
The cute noises you were making encourages him to keep going as he picks up the pace, thrusting his fingers harder and deeper.
His other hand reaches up and closes his fist around your throat, scissoring his fingers inside of you. You’re reaching for logic, for dignity, but everywhere there’s only him.
Your moans were getting louder and louder at each plunge of his fingers, deciding ‘fuck it’ since it felt too good to stop now. His thumb pressed your clit in a delicious way which brought a familiar sensation in your lower belly. The coil in your stomach tightens painfully.
Han grins at this, knowing you were close.
He purposely pulls his fingers out before your release, suddenly feeling empty as a long string of curses and whines spill from your lips.
“Seriously ? Literally what the fuck—“
Han silences you by pushing the two fingers into your mouth.
His fingers skillfully venture deeper into your throat. The slight pressure causes you to choke momentarily, a mix of vulnerability and exhilaration flooding your senses. Your lips form a tight seal around his fingers, tongue swirling and sucking on them as the primal desire to please him fuels your actions while you greedily lapped your tongue.
His mouth, warm and eager, delicately explored the tender flesh of your neck beneath his lips. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, breath hitching in anticipation as he lines himself up against your entrance.
Moaning, you can’t help but impatiently grind against him
“What’s wrong baby ?” Han releases his fingers from your mouth as you gasp for air. “want my cock instead ?”
You nod eagerly.
His grip on your hip tightens as he tugs your hair back, eliciting a curt hiss from your hips. “Words, y/n.”
“Yes . . Please, I want you so bad, please fuck me.”
“Good girl.” He wastes no time sheathing and snapping himself inside of you, his thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs. He swears quietly, feeling how soft your walls were pulsing around him — warm and perfect, everything he missed over the past few years. You choke on your words, eyes fogging with tears as you slur out random sentences.
He grunts, starting off slow. “Thought I stretched you out pretty good but you’re still so goddamn tight. When was the last time you fucked someone, pretty baby ?”
Han deepens his strokes but keeps a teasingly slow pace. “Pl—Please, Jisung-ah …. go faster.” You sniffle, pathetically begging for his cock at this point. It hurt too much. You needed him more than ever.
“Where's the girl who was telling me to burn in hell a couple of minutes ago ?” He laughs and grabs your jaw to turn and face him, “you look better so needy for me like that . . Now, answer my question.” A groan leaves your mouth as his grip gets tighter.
“Since you left !” You sob as he rocks his hips faster, quickly fucking into your heat. “I haven’t found anyone as good as you, jisung-ah—“
He grins, roughly pinning you down on the counter. It was the answer he exactly wanted to hear.
You gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, beginning to see stars as he brings a hand around to the front, running a finger against your swollen clit.
Moving inside of you at a nearly brutal pace, as you feel your release come closer and closer. He feels it too with the way you tighten around him. “M’cumming,” you whine, but he doesn’t stop. Then you came, walls clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs tremble under the intensity, tapping on his arm for him to let you breathe for a second.
His hands grab your waist and uses it as leverage to thrust into you, leaving you little to no time to at least catch your breath. You try to speak but another one of his hard thrusts trigger a loud moan.
“Doing so well for me, baby. Think you can cum a second time ?” You moan brokenly, unable to respond. Your tongue hangs from your swollen lips and your throat feels dry. You never expected being fucked silly by the one and only han jisung ever again but here we are. You feel selfish for not wanting it to end and for wanting to be with him again.
He pulls you up and flips you around, hungrily smashing his lips against yours as if he’s been waiting to finally taste and have you all to himself for decades.
- - - -
“I hate you,” you groan as he lays you down on the soft mattress of your bed. “so fucking much.” Han only ever grins in response as he wipes away the cum trickling down your inner thighs.
You can barely move. You can’t even twitch a single finger.
Your limbs were sore and it was all his fault.
Summoning the last ounce of strength within you, you deliver a knee to his abdomen, eliciting a deep grunt from his lips. A look of mild annoyance crosses his face as he settles down beside you, encircling your waist with his strong arm. He presses his face into the soft curve of your neck, his fingertips tracing soothing circles along the tender flesh of your thighs.
“I missed you,”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
You didn’t respond to that.
Suddenly, your lips meet in a sweet collision, a mingling of desire and longing. The taste of anticipation linger on your tongues as Han’s kisses began soft and tender, gentle brushes of lips that convey a depth of emotion words could never capture. With each meeting of your mouths, your passion ignites, growing more fervent, more urgent.
His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, while your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the ardor of your embrace. Your mouths moved in perfect synchronicity, exploring and claiming, as if they were trying to memorize every contour, every taste.
The moment is abruptly shattered by the piercing wail of police sirens echoing just outside the house. Panic grips your heart, forcing you to acknowledge the harsh reality that the person you love is still a criminal; a killer.
With a heavy sigh, he gently drapes the covers over your form, shielding you from the impending chaos. Reluctantly, he pulls himself away, but not without leaving a lingering kiss upon your trembling lips, as if to imprint his love upon you, even in the face of uncertainty.
"Y/n?!" A familiar voice calls out from outside, the voice of your roommate.
His lips press against your forehead, his touch both comforting and fleeting. Your fingers instinctively cling to his sleeve, desperately trying to hold onto the moments you have shared.
"Wait, Jisung..." you plead, your voice laced with apprehension and longing. Your thumbs nervously fiddle with each other, betraying the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.
A mischievous smile plays upon his lips as he leans closer, his voice a whispered reassurance. "Will you come back?" The thought of losing him again scared you.
"It isn’t that easy to get rid of me," he smiles cheekily as he opens the window sill, "Don't miss me too much.
“Remember, whether you like it or not, I'll always find you."
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a/n: the amount of times ive watched all of the scream movies (esp 1, 4, and 6) is not healthy</3
also, han jisung brain rot wkjanjanw
this was honestly supposed to be a two part with minsung but i decided against it idk kinda wanna do more ghostface aus with ateez or something
like im boutta write some ethan landry x readers cus lemme js say 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
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guiltyasdave · 3 months
Text
a long time coming
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pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: You were supposed to go to a concert with your best friend. You end up going with her dad instead.
word count: ~1.1k
tags/warnings: best friend's dad!Dave, fluff, allusions to smut, huge age gap, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, please be warned: Dave has inappropriate (though reciprocated) thoughts about his daughter's best friend - if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read
a/n: daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality and i were freaking out about those new photos of pedro, and because daphne apparently wants me dead, she said that it's giving bfd!dave who's at a concert with you and also provided me with a snippet that still has me in a chokehold and that's part of this story now. i am already experiencing heavy brainrot because i'm going to the eras tour in three (3) days and this was the final nail in my coffin tbh. i should be working on my dress, but instead i did this. the most self indulgent shit i've ever written lmao, please enjoy <3
follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my whole masterlist here :)
dividers by @saradika-graphics <3
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“Please, daddy? Please?” 
Dave sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Molly’s hoarse voice keeps pleading with him before it dissolves into a fit of coughs. 
With a groan, she lets her head fall against the pillows, wide eyes still trained on him. 
“No one else wants to go, and I can’t let her go alone, I’d feel terrible. Please?” 
She pouts at him, knowing fully well that her father doesn’t deny her anything when she looks at him like this. 
“Fine. If you’re sure that she’s okay with it?” 
“She is! I already asked her.”
Dave cocks a brow at his daughter, earning himself an exhausted but triumphant grin. 
“Don’t look at me like that. It will be fun!”
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Admittedly, Dave really has much more fun than he expected when his daughter all but begged him to accompany her best friend to the concert that she wanted to go to herself before she got sick. 
He knows most of the songs, has been witness to you and Molly singing along to the music while dancing through his kitchen often enough. It’s not bad music by any means, and the show is nothing short of spectacular. 
It’s not the reason he’s enjoying himself so much though. He’s barely watching the show, eyes only occasionally flicking towards the stage. 
His gaze is fixed on you, has been since before the show even started. Watching you interact with other fans, beaming smiles and giggles, eagerly exchanging bracelets, excitedly cooing at the especially pretty ones. 
Meeting your eyes when you turned to him, not able to suppress his own smile at the sparkle in them. Suppressing the flicker of something in his chest when your fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging it closer to put a few bracelets on him as well. You don’t seem to notice the faint blush that’s rising up in his cheeks at the unexpected touch. 
He’s watching you bouncing on your feet seconds before the show starts, snaps a few photos of the pure joy on your face without you noticing. Just to send them to you later, having enough experience from being the father of two daughters to know how much you’ll love them. After that, he’ll delete them from his own phone. Of course he will. 
He’s watching you dance, your body moving to the beat of the music, your lips forming every word. Your silhouette shimmering with the lights reflecting off your dress. It’s mesmerizing. You dance with the girls beside you sometimes, shouting lyrics at each other. Other times, you turn to him. He doesn’t protest when you take his hands, starts moving with you without a second thought, starts singing the words that he knows along with you. You’re laughing, your eyes shining with pure happiness. It’s intoxicating, and he wants more, wants all of it, wants to be part of that happiness. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled this wide, the last time his body felt this light. 
It takes a long time, longer than it should, until he remembers why this is bad. Until the weight comes crashing back into him. Until he remembers that he shouldn’t feel like this with you. 
You’re so much younger than him. His daughter’s friend. His daughter who asked him to come here with you, because she trusted that you’d be safe with him. 
Your brow furrows when you catch his eye and notice the change in his expression. No. He wants you to enjoy yourself, doesn’t want to be the reason for any kind of worry for you right now. He allows himself to drink in your energy right now, to let a smile grow on his face again. 
There’s no harm in indulging just for one night. Just a little bit. No one has to know. Least of all you. 
So he keeps singing with you, keeps letting you move with him. Keeps watching. 
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It’s easy, being with you, talking to you. Effortless in a way that he’s not used to. 
It’s just because you’re at his house more often than not, going wherever Molly goes. It has to be. 
But it’s different, your giggles ringing out in the confines of his car, not mixed with his daughter’s, the sound that he knows. And he’s the one who’s elicited those laughs from you. 
"Explain it again, please. You’ve glued every single of these stones onto your dress?" He laughs and gives you another once over, glad he can disguise his inappropriate ogling with an appreciating glance. Act like he’s studying the intricate, shimmering patterns on the fabric. Not the way your tits are straining against the low cut over your chest. Not the way the skirt has ridden up your thighs, exposing a new inch of bare skin. "Great job, sweetheart. You look good. The dress looks good, too." 
He wonders how the dress would look bunched up around your waist. Or on the floor of your apartment. If your skin is as soft as it looks in the dim shine of the red light he’s stopped at. How it would taste under his tongue. The sweet sounds you would make when his teeth dig into you. 
You breathe a thank you and bite your lip at the compliment, and his cock twitches with interest. Wrong, wrong, so wrong.
He has to be imagining the way that you keep glancing his way, stealing looks when you think that he doesn’t notice. Wishful thinking on his part. 
He pulls up in front of your apartment building, killing the engine and turning towards you. You’re already facing him, more shy than you’ve looked all evening. 
“Thank you for tonight,” you say softly, lips pulling up into another smile. “I’ve had a great time. I— I hope you did too.” 
His hand lands on your thigh before he can actively think about it. A soft gasp escapes you, but you make no move to back away from his touch. 
“Trust me, I did.” 
He doesn’t intend for it to come out as low and breathy as it does. Teeth dig into your lips once more. Your contemplative gaze burns into him. 
You inch closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his face. 
Wrong. He swallows thickly, forces his grip off of you. You blink, eyes growing wider, the growing tension’s fog lifting from you. Clearing your throat, you sit up straighter. 
“Good night, sweetheart.” 
He needs you to leave this car. Right now. 
You nod, shakily bidding him a good night as well. 
He watches your retreating silhouette, finally able to exhale deeply when you enter your building. 
He’s fucked.
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comments and reblogs are love and make my day every single time <3
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mzzledmutt · 5 months
Text
—BLIND DATE
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starring.ᐟ katsuki bakugou x reader
synopsis.ᐟ “a social engagement or date with a person one has not previously met.” After neglecting his personal life for so long, Pro-hero Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugou, can no longer run form the inevitable. With the help of his nosy parents, Katsuki ends up on a blind date with you.
warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, first blind date, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, creampie, biting, marking, hair pulling, pet names (excessive use of princess), slight man handling, bakugou is a softie at heart, praise, slight softdom!katsuki, breeding
word count.ᐟ 4.8k words
m.mutt 𐂯 please enjoy my brainrot!!
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KATSUKI Bakugou was known for many things. His boisterous personality. His bulky, intimidating stature. His impressive and powerful quirk. His less than family-friendly language and his hatred of paparazzi.
You would think being in the spotlight since 15, he would be used to it at this point. Maybe even indulge from time to time but, it’s never been his thing. He makes that fact well-known, constantly. Written and spoken interviews, press conferences, and award ceremonies, he will remind everyone to mind their own business. Especially when it comes to his personal life.
New photos and videos always arrive of the hero, dressed in alleged disguise, flipping off and yelling at the paparazzi. Especially when they get too close to his family and friends. One of his most iconic videos is of his poor father attempting to calm down both his large, rowdy son and his equally rowdy, yet smaller wife.
This strong distaste for the prying eyes and cameras belonging to paparazzi, unfortunately, takes a hard toll on his love life.
Their obsession with publicizing his entire life has forced his hand in many situations. That and the exclusive life he is now forced to lead. One of the biggest downsides of being a hero is the increase in difficulty in your love life.
These few relationships he’s had have all ended one of two ways.
One, in a ball of fury and tears. As a pro hero, Katsuki is often spotted with many people. Typically, people he knows. In bars and restaurants, caught conversating and drinking. Those candid moments are always being televised, even without his knowledge.
Suddenly, his after-work drink with a few friends is skewed and Dynamight is allegedly dating pro-hero Uravity. Resulting in arguments and watching as his partners stormed away.
Two, the spark simmers out. Coming home to put on a front feels exhausting as the days tick by, they both know it. It’s only inevitable until someone’s bags are packed. They’ll cry, holding hands on his couch as he speaks. They’ll go for a hug, only to realize now isn’t the time and leaving is the better option. Soon his apartment is quiet again, leaving him alone.
All of it has turned him away from the dating scene. He’s young and green, with plenty of time to settle down. Except, the consistent pestering from peers, fans, and his own parents is draining. Balancing his hero life, personal and love life all at the same time, was nearly impossible.
“I’m not going out with some chick you designed a dress for!”
“Just give it a try, you brat.”
Katsuki groans, his head rolling back at Mitsuki’s pestering. They were currently sitting in his childhood kitchen, eating brunch as they usually did on Sundays. “You have no idea, you could find the love of your life!” His father chimed in, attempting to add support.
“Maybe you’ll finally give me a grandkid.” Katsuki cringes, shaking his head at his mother’s words. “Look, as your parents we just want what’s best for our little boy. Even if you’re a hulking mountain a man now.”
“I think you should give it a try, she was a sweet girl too. Very well mannered.” Masaru pipes up in Katsuki’s silence.
“Look, just give it a shot. I’ll give you her number and you two can work things out. If things don’t work out you can always try again.” She sips at her hot tea, eyes fluttering shut due to the steam.
“And if I say no?”
“Why do you have to be so incredibly difficult?” Mitsuki scolds as he swirls his spoon in his tea. “Why do you have to be so incredibly annoying?” He muttered followed by a swift pop to the head.
“Ow! Shit!”
That’s how he ended up in this high-end lounge, awaiting a random woman his parents vouched for. He nursed a glass of whiskey, looking over their messages on his phone. Their conversation was rather bland, nothing incredibly enticing but, everyone doesn’t connect over text.
After some time, from his spot at the bar, he sends her another text. It’s only fifteen minutes, there could be traffic. He closes the messenger, choosing to scroll through his social media feed. Occasionally, he lifted his head scanning the area.
It wasn’t a quiet night, the place was bustling with conversation and laughter. Twenty minutes late.
He sent another text.
Everyone is secluded in their worlds, eating snacks and conversing with their loved ones. Their loud conversations exceeded the confinements of their seats. Katsuki was growing impatient.
Thirty minutes late. He’s already attempted to call, being sent straight to voicemail. Was this a joke? Had his parents set him up for some reason?
Glowering red eyes linger across the bar, noticing a figure he had seen earlier. Dressed in a sleek, black dress and nursing a martini between manicured nails. And another text.
Each time he looked in search of his alleged date, his eyes wandered back over to you. Watching as you pitifully looked around, maybe in search of someone like him. His eyes shut as he grimaced watching you pout. Your full, glossed lips jutted out with sadness.
He goes to pick up his phone and sends another message before, shutting the device off. Nearly an hour and a half late, he wasn’t that desperate to pester someone who didn’t care.
“Excuse me.” He calls the bartender. It didn’t seem like this mystery woman would be appearing any time soon so, might as well take a chance. “Lady at the end of the bar,” He gestured toward you. “Another of what’s she’s having, from me.” The man nods, heading off to prepare the new drink.
Katsuki grins seeing your reaction. Confusion washed over your face for a moment before you were directed towards him. Eyes locking for the first time that night. You smile and wave, he reciprocates nonchalantly.
Soon, his whiskey is finished and another is placed before him. “From the lady.” The bartender smiles, pointing his gaze to you once more. You raise your glass in solidarity, your beautiful smile still on display. He raises his glass, as a sort of distant cheers, taking a swig right away.
He watches as your gaze falls to the background, peering around the dim bar before you rise from your seat. Katsuki anxiously shifted in his seat, unsure of where you were going but, his anxiety didn’t settle as you stride over to him.
“Hi.” One word and he’s hooked. Your melodic voice wrapping itself around his brain and heart. “Hey, care to sit?” He offers the seat beside him. “Gladly.” You’re nervous, curt responses give you away along with the slight tremble in your hand.
“What are you doin’ here, beautiful?” He’s starting bold, liquid courage providing him strength. “I was supposed to be on a date. He hasn’t shown.” He ashamedly smirks. “Funny enough, I got stood up too.” He down the rest of his drink.
“What’s your name?” You answer sweetly, a bright smile on your face. He shared it, almost subconsciously. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki—“
“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. I’m surprised everyone is being so calm right now honestly.” You laugh and his heart skipped a beat, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while.
“Places like these are used to seeing pros, they get over it.” He replies, leaning against the bar top. “Not every day one-half of the wonder duo walks through those doors.” You reason, a smug smirk on your face as if knowing you’d won.
“Touché.” You giggle, a sweet sound he yearns to hear again. “Did you enjoy your martini?”
“It was delicious. Thank you, again.” Well-mannered and gorgeous. “Anything for a pretty girl like you.” You flush, thanking him profusely. He orders you both another round, choosing to carry on the conversation.
As you two spoke he fell deeper and deeper into infatuation. “I’m the newest assistant for your friend, Chargebolt. This is only my third month at the agency and I’m tired.” You sip at your drink. “Really? Been so busy I haven’t had a chance to make the trip. Can’t be an easy job though, knowin’ Kaminari.”
“It’s not the most difficult task in the world but, I do have to keep my eye on him like a toddler.” You share a laugh at the comparison.
The conversation shifts to your personal lives. Lamenting on your lack of a love life, work beginning to consume your free time. How your close friends and family have urged you to get out of your shell. Which led to this night.
His hand lays over yours as he showers you with compliments. Deflecting anytime your humble attitude attempted to shut him down. He complimented your dress, you tried to brush him off claiming that the piece was old and unflattering.
“Well, I think that dress is absolutely stunning.” His hand grasps yours, and you reciprocate. “I should know, my ma’s a designer.” He’s almost smug in saying that as if his association with a designer made him the judge of all fashion.
“I’m aware, I’ve browsed her catalog since I was little.” The way your eyes light up talking about particular garments his mother fashioned that she always dreamed of owning. “I think you’d look gorgeous in just about anything.”
“Are you flirting with me Katsuki Bakugou?”
The question hangs in the air for a moment. The two of you leaning into each other's spaces unknowingly. He could smell your sweet perfume from her, the scent filling his senses. “I am, is that alright?”
“It is.” Your eyes flicker down to his lips as you lick your own before sitting back in your seat. Katsuki’s already hooked, still leaning into your space as if entranced by you. He leans back, stuck in an unfamiliar haze of attraction.
That haze seemed to slow the time as he checked his watch seeing he had been chatting with you for nearly four hours. It was dark outside, patrons still lingering in the lounge.
“Hey, it’s getting late.”
“Is there anything I can get you? A ride home? Maybe a nightcap?” The last part was slightly rushed as if he were embarrassed. “A nightcap sounds good, I’m off tomorrow anyway.” The wink you give him doesn’t go unnoticed making his stomach tighten. “Excuse me, can I close our tabs?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, let me. Besides that jerk should’ve been here paying anyway.” You sit in silence as he closes you both out of the night and thank him as he helps you to your feet. Bakugou drapes his big coat over your shoulders, holding out a hand which you graciously take.
The contrast of the warmth of the bar and the chilly night air flushes your cheeks. You’re thankful to the hero for his warm coat. “Your hands are really warm.” You mutter as you both stride down the sidewalk.
Katsuki’s notices before you. The stares. People turn to whisper to each other as he walks beside you. Soon, there are flashes and cheers of his name. He rolls his eyes out of annoyance, holding onto your hand tighter as he moves faster. “Can ya’ keep up, princess?”
A small swarm of fans and paparazzi crowd the couple, snapping photos and begging for an interview. He barks orders at them to leave you alone, keeping your face obscured from their ravenous gaze. You blindly follow, rather unphased by the crowd around you.
Before you, a sleek, exquisite sports car sat with flashing headlights. Katsuki opens the passenger door, still blocking you from view as he helps you inside. Once the door is shut, you’re concealed by his dark tint. “Can’t you guys just fuck off, for one night?” It was a rhetorical question, more to himself than the people around him.
He waves at fans along the street, ignoring the money-hungry reporters behind him as he opens his own door and settles into his vehicle.
“I’m so sorry.” He’s met with a soft laugh and a gentle touch to his hand. “Katsuki, I’m used to it. This is a part of my job too, I’m just more behind the scenes.”
“They’re just invasive,” The card engine roars to life, vibrating the interior. “Almost predatory. Going any length for a snippet of gossip.” He groans, leaning his messy blond head against the leather seats. “Bakugo—“ - “Katuski.” He speaks over you.
His head lulls to the side, his full attention on you. “Katsuki. I appreciate all you’ve done tonight.” Plump glossed lips upturned into a smile that melts his heart. “Consider it a late welcoming gift. You’re lucky, I usually send assistants gift cards to a spa.”
You both laugh, a break between the growing tension filling the cramped space of his car as you hold eye contact. His tongue darts to lick his chapped lips, teeth barely grazing the skin before he clears his throat and looks away.
“You sure you still wanna go back to mine?” He asks, buckling his seatbelt and you do the same. “Yeah, it’s just one drink.”
One drink.
Just one drink.
The phrase repeated in his mind almost the entire time. Your voice disrupting his thoughts the only thing keeping him from being completely silence. He drives you to his building. A large, clean structure. Covered in windows, and lights, and well decorated.
You don’t even need to enter the lobby. Katsuki leads you to an elevator activated with a special keycard.
After a short trip, the doors open to this grand place.
You find yourself in awe as you walk through his front hall. His apartment was massive and spotless yet, homey. Although he clearly preferred a more modernized look, it still managed to have the charm and personality of his childhood home.
“This place is ten times bigger than my apartment.” Katsuki laughs, taking his coat from you and hanging it beside the door. “I want to downsize, this was an impulse buy from when I first started. A financial disaster is what I refer to it as.” You giggle, he swoons.
The blond guides you to his kitchen, pulling out a stool for you to sit in at the island. “Are you hungry? I can whip something up.” He offers. “I thought I was just here for a nightcap, not dinner.” You joke, settling down in your seat.
“Well, I like a nice snack when I drink and a lady always deserves a nice dinner on the first date.”
“This is a date now?” You quirk a brow, still rather unsure of what to make of this evening.
“Wasn’t it always? We both had shitty dates who stood us up, we just found each other instead.”
“Yeah, then I guess it is.” You bat your lashes as silence falls over the kitchen for a moment. Katsuki clears his throat and smiles, moving away to gather something to eat. “What’re you making?” You ask seeing as he stands before the fridge. “Nothing.”
“Fresh bow of fruit, put it together today. I can get some crackers and wine, that work for you?” You nod.
“Could you grab the bottle off the counter? Don’t worry about a screw I’ve got one.” You help yourself to sort of peruse his kitchen, taking in little bits of his taste from the pictures and decor before returning the bottle to him.
Katsuki pops the bottle, pouring you both half glasses. You cheers, taking the first drink together and savoring the sweet taste. “I didn’t expect you to like sweet wines.”
“I indulge from time to time, besides it was a gift from my ma.”
“Aww, Dynamight the mama’s boy.” You giggle, grabbing a fresh strawberry and popping it into your mouth. “Oh hush, she gets these kinds of things for free and knows I’ll actually use them.” He’s close, using his elbows to lean on the counter.
“So don’t always do this?” You can smell his cologne.
“Do what?” He can smell your perfume.
“Being pretty girls to your apartment.” The scents colliding are an intoxicating concoction.
“Only pretty girls I like.” A strawberry is held cautiously between his fingertips, held between your space. “You like me, Katsuki?” A rather silly question on your part, he wouldn’t do this for just anyone.
“I do, princess.” He slowly bites into the juicy fruit, keeping his eyes on you.
The sudden bass and rap of his voice along with the intense eye contact fill you with a sudden wave of heat. The facade of small talk became harder to keep up.
It wasn’t long before Katsuki was brazen enough to lean over the counter and press his lips against yours. Your glasses of wine are soon abandoned, sloppily making out as you sit on his pristine countertop. He stood between your legs, hands crawling across your back and hips as you pant into each other mouths.
Soon, you’re both stumbling down his spacious corridor and into his dimly lit bedroom. He lets you go, turning to close the door as you take in your surroundings. Once the door is shut his attention is back to you, frantic hands roaming over each other skin, pulling at the almost offensive fabrics that keep your bodies apart.
Your clothes are eventually scattered among his own on the bedroom floor as Katsuki gently lowers your naked bodies into his fresh sheets. Cradling your head as he brushes his lips along your jaw and neck. You shiver under his touch, calloused hands running along your soft skin, cupping your breast, and rolling your hardening nipples.
You mewl under his touch, legs squeezing his hips to keep him in place. His teeth nip at your jaw, lowering to nip and suck marks into the skin of your neck. Your hips buck against each other, his hardening cock jumping against your dripping cunt.
It was becoming too much. you whine, pulling his attention away from your neck.
“What’s wrong, princess?” His words are followed by more gentle kisses. “Want you, ‘suki.” you pout, eyes watering dramatically. “You want more, baby?” You nod, lips still stuck in a pathetic-looking pout. His right hand moves to your jaw, pinching the bone between a few, thick fingers.
“Use your words.” His voice is strong, and commanding. Yet, loving and soft. “I want more, ‘suki.” He smiles at your muffled words and presses a wet kiss onto your puckered lips. “I’ll give you more then, princess.”
Your jaws sore when he lets go, the feeling of his fingers still remnant in their wake. Your legs fall slack as the blond kisses down your torso, from the valley of your breast to the bottom of your navel. He follows the trail back up and down once more, staring you in the eye.
His eyes shift down for a moment, a wolfish grin forming on his face. “You’re dripping, baby.” He cooes making your skin flush. another whine leaves your throat as you tear your gaze away, trying to focus on the ceiling above you. “No no, look at me.”
“Good. Look at me, baby.” His right hand moves from rubbing at your hips, to gently caressing your skin until his thumb lands on your clit. Your thighs quiver at the sudden contact, your gaze locked on him. Thumb lowers to collect the juices from your cunt, making a show as he brings the digit to his mouth to taste you.
You’re infatuated with the godly figure before you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, muscles unintentionally flexed as he lewdly moans around his fingers at your taste. “‘s so good, princess. You taste so fuckin’ good.”
He makes of show of it, wickedly at your already blissed-out appearance. “So damn sweet, soakin’ my sheets.”
Your eyes follow him as he descends between your legs once more, harshly biting the plump skin before soothing it with kisses.
You’re so caught in your own pleasure, the shock of his fingers prodding your cunt forces a gasp. His free hand moves your thighs onto his shoulders as he stares you down. “Can I?”
One thick finger breaches your cunny slowly, gently pushing in before pulling out. He follows the motions a few times, watching as you gush around his finger. Soon, another is added. Carefully, thrusting into your pussy as he presses kisses to your clit.
You writhe at his ministrations, fighting to keep your eyes focused on the man before you.
He sets a slow and mind-numbing pace, slowly thrusting in and out. The sounds of your slick coating his fingers and your breath moans a chorus to him.
“Yeah? Feel good, princess?” He teases, gaze fixed upon your pleasure-ridden face. Your mouth is agape as strained moans are pulled from your aching chest. He was breaking you apart in two fingers, stretching you open and preparing you for his cock.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, baby? ‘M gonna stretch you open like a good girl deserves.” He declares, mainly to himself. Too lost in how your walls greedily suctioned his fingers back in.
Bakugou carefully leans down to lap at your clit, eliciting a soft cry and an arch of your back. He shuts his eyes as he savors the taste he was beginning to yearn for, suckling your poor neglected clit.
“Katsuki!” You shout, digging your nails into the pillow behind you. “Katsu—fuckk! Please, fuck me, baby! I need you so badly, need your cock so bad!”
He’s devoted to searing your taste into his mind. Messily coating his face and your cunny with a thin layer of wetness. Soon, he’s haphazardly withdrawing his fingers from your salacious cunt, against your protests to taste you further.
Spikes of blond hair bob between your legs, his tongue delving between your folds making you whimper and writhe. His hands grab a hold of your ass, holding you close to his face so you wouldn’t escape. Your back arches from the comforter, keening into his touch.
“God!” You cry as you fall back onto the sheets, fingers grasping for anything to clutch. His pace never falters, gratefully drinking your slick that spilled into his awaiting tongue, then swirling it around your throbbing clit.
“Kat—fuck! Baby—Katsuki!” Your body felt electric, an almost buzzing sensation that erupted from your pelvis and spread through your body. Your wanton moans are loose into the air, eyes shut as your head is tossed back.
You were a gorgeous statuette of pleasure.
You felt as if you bit off more than you could chew. Going out with a pro hero was already anxiety-inducing enough, practical criminal, allowing him to lure you to his apartment with promises of a nightcap, and now naked and wriggling beneath him was driving you to insanity.
And he's not even inside of you yet.
The maddening way his tongue circled your aching clit, inscribing his name into the bud. His blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass, keeping you relatively grounded. His tongue unrelenting stimulating your soaked pussy pushed you to your first orgasm.
A sudden wave of pleasure and the ever-growing pit in your stomach unravels through your body. You grip his hair, keeping Katsuki’s mouth in place as your hips buck into the pleasure. You loudly cry out his name, and a few tears roll down your cheeks as you cum.
He groans into your cunt, eyes rolling at the sweet taste of your cum. His hands rub your skin, easing away any pain left behind by his grip. Slowly, you open your eyes, chest still heaving.
“‘Suki,”
He pulls away, the lower half of his face soaked with slick and spit.
“M’yeah?” You can’t even think of what to say, just laying your head back to catch your breath. “You alright, baby?” You nod, still returning from your high. Katsuki crawls up to face you, a soft smile on his lips. “You look so pretty.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the soft skin.
“I want you to fuck me.”
He quirks a brow, a smirk on his face. “Yeah? I’ll fuck you, baby.”
“I promise, I’ll fuck you real good.” He captures your lips, sharing the taste of you once more. Your tongues are quick to entangle as you pant into each other's mouths.
Your fingers naturally gravitate to his blond hair, keeping him close as you kiss. Your bodies move together as you grind against one another, his hard cock leaking pre cum against your stomach. You’re both growing increasingly needier, rutting and panting like dogs in heat.
Katsuki breaks from the grinding, settling himself between your thighs. The tip of his cock pressed against your clit, spreading his precum as he teases you.
“You want it?”
“I want it, ‘suki.” His grin is wolfish at the nick, happily dragging his cock from your clit to press at your fluttering hole. He groans at the warmth and wetness, your dripping cunt already leaking onto him.
A pathetic high-pitched whine leaves your open mouth as his thick, heavy cock slowly bullies into your heat. Pushing deep into your plush, warm walls. Katsuki is slow, taking his time to ease you into the feeling. His lips are on your breast, kissing and nipping the soft skin.
“More, please.” You whine, your hands moving to hold onto his back. His hips increase in pace, still slow as you hiss once he draws back.
Katsuki slowly molds your tight pussy to his cock, stretching you open to only accommodate him. The sharp pain of your nails digging into his back only encourages him to thrust faster, making you cry out his name. Your cunt loudly gushes around his heavy cock, spilling syrupy juices down your skin.
“God damn, this pussy—fuck—you’re s’fuckin’ tight.” He grits out, grabbing your leg and pushing it back to the mattress. The change of angle causes you to lurch forward, your hands pushing at his shoulders. “Oh my god, Katsuki!” You shout, as his throbbing cockhead smushes against your cervix.
He’s back to sucking your tits, leaving spit-soaked freckled hickeys in his wake. You’re still adjusting to his size, the sudden change in position driving him deeper into your guts.
He’s pressed himself closer against you, his pelvis adding stimulation to your nice neglected clit. You throb around him and cry, fat tears slipping from your eyes. “Y’feel that, baby? I’m so deep in this pretty pussy. Y’feel me in yer tummy, does it feel good, baby?” You’re incoherent, only capable of breathless moans and sobs.
“You look so pretty, all fucked out ‘cause o’ me. Tell me, baby, do I feel good?” His hand cruelly comes down to press on the slight bulge in your stomach, causing your poor cunt to twitch around him. “‘s too much!” You cry out, pushing against him to no avail.
“Too much? You can take it, princess. Can’t ya’?” His pace suddenly grows rough, hips slamming into yours as he fucks into your cunny. He pressed your other leg to the mattress, forcing his cock all the way inside.
You’re mindless. Eyes rolled back into your skull, unintelligible moans and clawing at his skin. The rooms full of thick, humid air, the sounds of your squelching cunt, and a chorus of moans. Bakugou savors this image, in case he may never get the chance to see you again.
He caresses all of the right places inside of you, each thrust full of never-ending pleasure. His wicked tongue in your nipples and sinful roll of his hips push you to the edge. Like a burning fuse, slowly trailing all the way to a firework.
“Y’close baby? Don’t worry, you can cum for—fuck! You’re so fuckin’ wet—cum for me.”
Katsuki’s thrust increases to a maniacal speed, jostling you around his mattress without care. He was chasing his orgasm now, keeping you secure beneath he ruts into you. Heavy balls slapping against your asshole, the rough feeling of public hair against your soaked cunt. You can’t think let alone protest before he’s spilling his cum deep inside of your womb.
Katsuki keeps himself buried inside of you as he changes position, opting to hold you instead. You’re both panting as if you’ve run a marathon, hearts racing and skin coated in sex and sweat. You lay in silence, catching your breath for just a moment.
“Please don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ ’bout leavin’.” He mutters into your hair, rubbing your back. You breathlessly giggle against his chest, shaking your head. “I can’t feel my legs, Katsuki.” He smiles, cheering to himself.
“How about we clean up and get some rest? I’m beat.” A yawn cuts you off as you agree, alerting you to how exhausted you truly are. Katsuki kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep and tomorrow, we can continue this date. That sound nice?” You nod again, and slowly drift to sleep.
“Good. Stay here and look pretty, I’ll run a bath.”
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skipper1331 · 6 months
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Spider // Alexia Putellas
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a/n: inspired by a tik tok I saw, but sadly can’t find anymore!
Early on in your relationship, you learned that Alexia wasn‘t afraid of anything - the complete opposite of you.
It was you who hid in the crook of her neck when you watched horror movies,
it was you who sent her downstairs when you heard some weird noises,
and it was you who had a night light on when she was away.
Seeing Alexia scared or frightened had never been on your agenda as you had tried to scare her multiple times already, her reaction always the same, "I know you‘re there" or "don‘t even try it, mi amor, I heard you"
But the one time you did see her scared was in a way you never expected it to be.
-
You stood in the kitchen as you debated on what to cook tonight.
You weren't the biggest fan of cooking nor the best at it, but since it was an unspoken rule that one night you would cook and the following day Alexia, you naturally stuck to it, especially when you knew that she had training until the evening.
So, as you leaf through the cooking book, you stopped at every recipe you knew Alexia enjoyed, checking if you had the ingredients.
With the music playing softly in the background and your daydreaming, you didn‘t realize that your girlfriend had entered the room. Silently, she walked up behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder while her arms looped around your midsection as she pulled you against her front, "what got you so distracted, mi amor?"
Your body tensed and froze - being frightened before you quickly melted into her embrace.
"I don‘t know what to cook" closing your eyes, you rested your hands over hers.
"What about some simple pasta?" she proposed as she started to press featherlight kisses along your neck, making you melt even further in her touch. In responds you nodded, turning in her grasp, "how was training?" you asked, putting your arms around her neck, the two of you swaying to the music.
Tiredly, she smiled "good but exhausting. I scored some goals"
"Something new" you teased, pinching her cheeks, grinning widely at her expression.
"Stop"
Biting your lip, "Hm? I‘m not doing anything. All I was saying was-"
Leaning in, the Catalonian locked your lips, preventing you from finishing your sentence. Immediately, butterflies erupted in your stomaches while your minds went blank, only focusing on each other.
"If it was always that easy to shut you up, hm?" the girl grumbled jokingly, pulling you back in. Kissing you would always be her favourite activity.
That girl was obsessed with and addicted to you - she could never get enough of you.
She loved kissing you,
she loved hugging and holding you,
she loved talking and listening to you,
she loved protecting and claiming you as hers,
she simply loved you.
After a few kisses, the midfielder excused herself to change into more comfortable clothes when all of sudden a hair-raising, terrifying and horrific scream came from upstairs - Alexia.
"Ale?!" you shouted, grabbing the nearest weapon - a fork.
Running to your bedroom with adrenaline pumping through your body, you prayed that she was alright.
Please let her be okay.
As you threw the door open - ready to fight whatever was behind it - your girlfriend stood on your shared bed, gripping the sleep shirt in her hand and screaming.
"Are you okay?! What‘s wrong?! Are you hurt?! Why are you screaming?!"
Alexia had a look of disgust and fear displayed in her features, "araña!"
At this point, you really should have continued your duolingo strike because you didn‘t understand what she was talking about at all.
"Spider"
She pointed to the wall, her body tense and slightly shaking.
Sighing in relief that it was nothing dramatic, you walked to the wall where she was pointing at, the spider not visible until you were one step in front of it.
"la araña is huge!"
"It‘s tiny" you laughed, shaking your head, putting down your 'weapon' "baby, I thought someone was in here"
"She is!"
"yes but she probably lives here" walking towards the bed, you held out one hand for her to take, leaving your guest alone "she does not pay any bills! She‘s not allowed to live here! Kill it" your girlfriend demanded, crossing her arms yet her eyes not leaving the gigantic monster, "I will not leave this bed until it‘s out of my house"
"Okay" you stated, walking towards the door, intending to get an item that would help you remove the spider.
"Where are you going?!" Alexia‘s voice shrilled, more fear appearing in her eyes.
"Getting a glass" your voice was calm and gentle, not wanting to stress out the footballer even more.
Which didn‘t seem to help.
"Why do you need to drink something now?! Kill the monster!" she panicked, "don‘t leave me alone in here"
"I want to-" you cut yourself off, there was no point in explaining what your plan was as everything seemed to freak out the Barcelona player. So instead of walking out of the bedroom, you walked towards her, offering your hand once again.
She clinged onto you, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist, arms holding you around your neck as she hid in the crook of your neck - something that had never happened before.
Roles were reserved - you were the protector and she was the one to be protected because the 'I’m never scared'- girl was in fact scared and very so.
Gently, you sat her down on the couch, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you got a glass and a piece of paper, heading back to your bedroom. You felt Alexia‘s eyes burning holes into back of your head until you were out of sight.
The tough girl was seriously afraid of a tiny tiny spider, somehow ironic.
When you arrived in the room, you walked towards the spot were the spider was - it wasn‘t there anymore.
Slightly in panic, (not afraid of the missing spider but your girlfriends reaction) you thought about what to do. Telling Alexia was definitely not an option and neither was searching for it. The spider was tiny and compared to your bedroom, it would take hours to find it, so there was only one option left: leaving the spider wherever it was and acting like you removed it.
And even though, you were the worst liar and you hated lying, was this an acceptable lie - after all, it was about her safety and peace of mind.
With a plan in mind, you headed to the bathroom. You knew Alexia would hear the flushing toilet and assume you killed the spider, exactly what you needed - for her to think the spider was gone forever.
All you could do now was to hope and pray that you would eventually find it and not her.
Making your way downstairs, Alexia waited patiently at the edge of the couch, "is it gone?" she asked.
"Yes, baby"
"Gracias amor" she got up, keeping her distance as the items the spider had touched were still in your hands.
She followed you in the kitchen where you threw away the paper, about to put the glass in the dishwasher, "what are you doing?!" the midfielder‘s eyes wide, voice high-pitched, "put the glass in the trash!"
"What? Baby, it’s perfectly fine"
"No no no, this will not stay in my house!"
You admitted defeat as you also threw away the glass. The lady needed her inner peace back.
"Maybe we should get some takeout tonight?" you proposed, taking her hand and walking in the living room.
"Sí, that‘s good"
The midfielder collapsed on top of you, hugging your figure as she pressed soft kisses along your jaw, "my hero" she smiled, finally interlocking your lips, showing her appreciation of protecting her. She purred every inch of love and affection into that kiss, thanking you yet also shutting you up as she knew you had a teasing comment resting on the tip of your tongue.
After puling away to catch some air, it left your mouth anyways, "never scared, hm?" you giggled, her cheeks turning red.
In responds, she just kissed you once again, the spider long forgotten as the touch of your lips made her forget everything in the world.
If the spider had still been there, you would have gotten rid of it to protect your girl and though, the plan had changed, the intention stayed the same, so you happily accepted the thank you and love you were getting at the moment.
next day
"AMOR!"
969 notes · View notes
glossysoap · 7 months
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mic work ; soap mactavish | soap it up!
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summary: soap with an audio erotica career on the side.
18+, afab & fem reader, implied roommates, fwb to lovers, pining. insp from my convos with @loveyhoneydovey but i know @konigsblog just posted something similar to this so i’m tagging to give her creds regardless <33 feel free to request a part 2 featuring reader who coincidentally listens to an artist with a familiar scottish voice 👀
this is also including some soapitup prompts from @glitterypirateduck’s challenge bc i just couldn’t resist, it fit so well. so technically this acts as my third albeit late submission into the challenge, after “dirty talk” and “thigh fixation”.
“I won't let anything happen to you.”
“You deserve so much more.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
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Erotic audio artist Soap, whose audios garner at least 15k listens and 4k upvotes, with certain kinks receiving higher attention. His deep, husky Scottish accent that sent shivers down the listeners spine didn’t hurt his ratings either.
Erotic audio artist Soap, whose repertoire is full of different kinks and scripts, enough to appease a variety of listeners. Brat taming, body worship, hard or soft dom, male submissive, bondage, breeding kink, size kink/difference, daddy kink, cnc, and the list goes on and on.
Erotic audio artist Soap, whose favorite category of scripts to fill is best friends to lovers. He enjoyed every aspect of recording them, especially because he imagined you while he recorded them. You, his best friend.
He loved murmuring sweet nothings and compliments into the mic, all directed at the listener. All dripping with underlying praise and affection. All things he imagines saying to you, whether they’re said in an not-safe-for-work fashion or otherwise.
Some quotes from his audios, ones he imagines himself saying to you the entire time, include:
“Nice work,” He reads off the script with his voice all honeyed, imagining himself praising the listener for a job well done. Usually the script involved the listener coming home to their shared apartment from a long day of work, all exhausted and in need of cheering up. He imagines that exact scenario with you. He imagines himself saying that to you as you come home, him walking to the door to pull you into his awaiting arms.
“Yer doin’ so good, lass.” He reads off the script, imagining himself purring that into your ear as you stand in the kitchen, cooking away. He imagines himself burying his face in your neck as he snakes his arms around your middle, inhaling your sweet scent as it mixes with the savory aroma of your cooking.
“You deserve so much more, love.”He reads off the script, mind fully focused on you with every word. He remembers every shitty ex boyfriend, every failed tinder date, everything that took your confidence down a peg. He hated every bit of it. He imagines himself saying that to you as he stares into your eyes. Scanning your face for any reaction as he begins closing the distance between you, his breath fanning across your face. His forehead pressed up against yours as his eyes dart down to your lips.
“I won't let anything happen to you.” He reads off the script, heart pounding in his ears as he imagines himself murmuring that against your lips. Just barely caressing your soft skin. A heated promise filled with years of affection bubbled to the surface. He conveys the severity of his promise by closing that small distance between you, smashing his lips against yours. His scarred and slightly chapped lips against your plump and soft lips, a perfect contrast between rough and delicate. His large, calloused hands cupping your cheeks to hold you steady, thumb caressing your soft skin.
“I am yours.” He reads off the script, panting into the mic as he reaches into his boxers to pull out his throbbing cock. He imagines himself kissing down your body, tasting your soft skin. Starting from your jaw where he nips at your pulse point, then moving down the span of your neck and leaving marks with every bite and suck. He imagines what little whines and gasps you would let out as his mouth moves down the valley between your breasts, licking and sucking at your soft skin. He imagines your hand burying itself in his mohawk as he murmurs, “I am yours,” against your breast as he takes a nipple in his mouth.
“Yer so fuckin’ pretty. Could look at ye’ all day.” He reads off the script, huffing as he strokes his hard cock, all slick and covered in lube to get the best wet sounds. He imagines you laid out all bare and perfect in front of him on his bed, skin shiny with sweat and chest heaving in anticipation. Pussy all slick and shiny as your juices dripped down your slit. He imagines himself pushing your legs up to your chest so you were all spread out for him, before taking his cock in his hand and tapping it on your wet entrance. He can almost imagine that cute little gasp as the head of his cock taps against your swollen clit. He imagines that you whine out his name, not Soap, but Johnny, needing him to stop teasing you.
“Dinnae worry, love. I'll take care of you.” He chuckles, all husky and warm against the mic as he keeps stroking his cock. He imagines himself whispering that against your lips as he finally guides the head of his cock into your cunt. He closes his hand around his weeping tip right as he imagines that, and he gasps just like he knows you would. He tries to use his hand to mimic the feel of your cunt gripping his cock, but he knows his hand could never come close. Nevertheless, he just keeps thinking of how you would gasp and claw at his broad shoulders as he pushes in inch by inch, your hungry cunt clenching around him so fucking good.
“That’s it, cream around my cock, baby.” He groans into the mic as he feels himself growing dangerously close to coming. All it takes for him to spurt rope after rope onto his chest is the thought of your cunt clenching around his cock with a cry of his name.
Imagining everything with you would have to be good enough. For now.
©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.
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Follow You Anywhere 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: I couldn't help myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."
You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.
You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."
You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.
"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."
You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.
"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.
You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.
"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."
You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.
You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.
“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 
You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.
You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…
“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.
You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.
A message?
You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.
‘Looked delicious too.’
“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”
‘Don't mean the toast.’
The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.
“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”
You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.
“How about some tunes?” 
You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.
‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?
“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”
You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.
You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.
You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.
“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”
You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.
🧸
You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.
The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.
The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.
You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.
You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.
As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.
You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.
🧸
You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.
You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.
You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.
A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.
'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.
You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.
'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.
You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.
🧸
You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.
The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.
"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.
As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.
You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.
You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.
"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."
All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.
You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.
As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.
"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.
You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.
"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."
You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?
"You like sweet stuff."
"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.
He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.
You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.
"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."
You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.
"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.
"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.
"I could drive you. I have a truck."
"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.
"Why not?"
"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"
"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."
"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"
"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."
"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."
"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 
“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."
"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."
"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.
"That's nice but--"
"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."
You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.
"BourbonBear?" You ask.
"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”
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javiscigarette · 1 year
Text
Ease
Javier Peña x f!reader
Requested:
requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank
warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning
w/c: 5.3k
a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!
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You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.
There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment. 
He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window. 
“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove. 
He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different. 
But he didn’t see. 
“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile. 
So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.
“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.” 
You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens. 
“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead. 
All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire. 
You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks. 
“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt. 
You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking. 
“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too” 
You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job” 
"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."
You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support. 
"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."
Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze. 
"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."
You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work. 
"I know”  you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."
Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. 
"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl” 
You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart. 
“Thank you” you whisper.
Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support. 
“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.” 
You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day. 
After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. 
“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”
His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. 
“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.
“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin. 
"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."
His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."
All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again. 
He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. 
He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.
 His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access. 
His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him. 
He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.” 
You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way
You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey. 
He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him. 
“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”  
His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes. 
“Take off your shorts.” 
You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side. 
“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard. 
“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip. 
“Turn around, cariño.”
You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder. 
“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long. 
He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison. 
“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers. 
“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple. 
You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response. 
“Want you to use your words, bebita.” 
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding. 
“F-feels good, Javi.” 
He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again. 
“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear. 
Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest. 
Fuck. 
The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so. 
“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy” 
“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.” 
He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it. 
“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.” 
“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended. 
“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.” 
He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction –  the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now. 
“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?” 
You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise. 
“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.” 
You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment. 
“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible. 
He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs. 
He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask. 
“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again. 
“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple. 
His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance. 
He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore. 
He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest. 
“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around. 
“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder. 
“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it” 
His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans. 
And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you. 
 “There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch. 
You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.
He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle. 
“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.
You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. 
He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.” 
You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets. 
You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous” 
“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up. 
“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”
Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again. 
“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want. 
“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it” 
You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it. 
“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.
“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago. 
“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.” 
“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.” 
He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.
But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it. 
“Daddy please–oh shit– please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you. 
Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again. 
“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me” 
Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.
And Javi feels it too.
“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock. 
“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across. 
Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand. 
He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line. 
“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum” 
Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you. 
“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.
“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ” 
His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once. 
The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible. 
“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?” 
You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.
Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.
He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure. 
He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you. 
You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long. 
He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again. 
“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers. 
You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.
“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away. 
“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.
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I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333
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extristitiavenit · 6 months
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Too Sweet - @ohtheblissx
It was a day like any other for john, the rise and shine grind of stammering out of bed and into his kitchen to use the blender for his morning brew, bliss oil, jimson weed and coffee all ground together with just a pinch of hazelnut for task before he was soon his bouncing and charismatic self. Once the sun had come up, yes he woke before the sun, he had already been clad in a pair of tight skinny jeans, to avoid baggage during baptism and of course he wanted to make sure he looked his best so he had a relatively nice dress shirt, his vest to feel fancier and of course a shit ton of hair gel to keep that mess back in the water. He knew he had a long day ahead, so he grabbed several thermoses to fill his morning concoction for the go and he was out the door, barely beating the morning light.
Most days reserved for baptism had a lot of thought put into it, showmanship, scripts and it was a spectacle to be seen so he knew he had to be at his best. Unfortunately that meant being cracked out of his mind, tearing up the roads of hope county in his beloved car and making an entire ass of himself to the early rising farmers as he’d passed by. Once he was at his usual baptism spot he’d seen his devout workers already hard at work dumping the bliss into the shallow water and creating a natural barrier to attempt to keep it all maintained. He abhorred Faith for her littering, but this was a necessary evil. Eyeroll.
Black boots hit the morning dew-soaked grass beneath his car door, his eyes squinting at the sun beaming over the mountains even despite having his signature shades on, the bliss had made everything so more vibrant. “brothers, sisters.” He sighed out, he was exhausted much like any addict he didn’t sleep much and that attributed to his foul mood, not that he could take it out on any of his followers without joseph reprimanding him. “make sure after you bless the waters you get rid of those containers, and I mean get rid of. If I so much as see a single barrel on the side of the waters west of the henbane.. there will be hell to pay.” He wanted so badly to spit that out more aggressively than he did, but he knew that sometimes people got butthurt and ran back to run their mouths for brownie points, so he settled with clenching his jaw and gesturing for them to commence.
Him on the other hand, he had an entire roster of people who were willing to be baptized and usually they had a few not so willing participants but— today's schedule was cleared. The only thing that he was dreading was the fact that he was expected to be there upon pickup of every participant of the evenings event.
Which meant he had to sit either passenger inside of the van or spend all day driving himself to each location, so to save on gas and his own peace of mind he went with the van. One visit turned into two, minutes turned into hours and as many fake smiles as he had to muster was enough to drive a normal person insane, but john wasn’t normal and he’d spent the entire trip sipping on bliss and taking it easy. Half of the time he was on his phone scrolling aimlessly and trying not to get a boner, but eventually the time had come. They had picked up the final passenger in the van, and the show was about to begin.
Once they had been at the river and everyone had gotten themselves prepared, it was time for John to make his scene. It was only a few minutes before he was about to walk down to the edge of the water when one of his devout followers came up to him to whisper the news, there was a deputy on their way through town and a birdy had heard they were investigating the happenings at Eden’s Gate. There was almost a glint of excitement that washed over him, the dread of monotony was taking a toll on him and this was the spark that he needed to get his motivation back. What better way to have showmanship if you don’t have new fans? Of course part of him halfway expects it to be a yee yee local cop, but regardless of that he was ready to get the baptism on the go. If he could get the majority out of the way before the arrival of the newest victim deputy, it would be a lot less stressful.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 10 months
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I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)
Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.
While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.
CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut
To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess
Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂
*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me
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*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!
You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.
You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.
You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.
It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.
A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.
A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.
For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.
Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.
Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.
“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”
You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.
Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.
You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.
You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.
You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.
You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.
Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.
He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.
He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.
The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.
Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.
Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.
When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”
Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.
The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.
Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”
Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.
“Sick? For how long?”
Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”
“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”
“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.
Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.
Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?
Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.
“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.
Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.
Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.
Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.
If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.
Shadowheart be damned.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!
You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.
You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.
You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-
“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”
“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”
“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”
Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.
“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.
You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.
Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?
Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.
Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.
It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.
You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.
“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”
“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”
Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.
“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”
“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”
Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!
Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”
“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”
“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.
Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”
“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”
“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”
Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.
You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”
Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.
You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.
“A girl?”
His question breaks the air.
“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.
A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.
“You don’t want to be involved?”
Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.
“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”
You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”
His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.
“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”
You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.
“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”
Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.
“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”
Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.
You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.
Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”
“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”
“What wish?”
It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.
“Right… that.”
The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.
“Astarion-“
“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”
You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.
“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”
You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.
“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”
You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.
Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”
Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.
“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”
“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”
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chrrychills · 3 months
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we both like apple cider .
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main six « sleepover w/ their s/o!
ashlyn banner:
•sleepover's probably at her house, it's more convenient that way. plus you can hangout in the bus graveyard!
•will make dinner and appreciates if you sit in the kitchen and talk to her.
•reluctantly allows you to do face masks on her– the only condition is that you're not allowed to take pictures. (you did anyway.)
•is ready for bed around 10 pm. She wants the two of you to get at least a little bit of rest before the shift at midnight.
•has a hard time falling asleep after the phantom realm, so the two of you probably stay up until 2-3 am talking.
•will cuddle for max 10 minutes, then she gets too hot or uncomfortable and moves away. she'll still be holding you hand or touching you in some way, though!
•overall very tame sleepover, just appreciates your presence.
aiden clark:
•you're not sleeping. at all. he will make it his mission to keep you up all night.
•will not be making dinner, he can't cook for shit. the two of you end up just ordering pizza instead of making the effort to cook.
•the two of you will most likely leave the house for some reason or another– wether that be snacks or something else.
•he's super cuddly when he's tired, so he'll practically cling to you when he's ready to sleep. usually doesn't rest before the shift, but tries to when he's with you because he doesn't want you to be tired in the phantom realm.
•either can't sleep or knocks out after the seven hours is up. if he's exhausted enough to sleep, it'll be the best sleep of your lives.
•will gladly allow you to do face masks, makeup, etc. he thinks it's fun, and likes seeing you happy.
•absolutely painting your face if you let him. if you don't, there's a good chance he does it while you sleep.
•overall, very chaotic. there's a 90% chance you'll wake up with face paint the next morning.
ben clark:
•either conks out at like 9:30 pm or stays up until dawn.
•you two will definitely be cooking/baking. he's an amazing baker, so whatever you make will taste amazing. (aiden's gonna come downstairs and eat like half of it in the middle of the night.)
•a big cuddler. even when he's sleeping, he has an iron grip on you. it comforts him, knowing that you're there with him.
•will spoon if you want but it isn't his favorite.
•matching pj pants. probably like black and grey plaid ones or something like that.
•usually starts winding down around 9 pm. he'll sit in bed and draw for half an hour or so, preferably with you cuddled up next to him.
•probably has a loud fan or white noise to sleep, but will absolutely turn it off if you ask.
•usually can't sleep after the phantom realm, but knocks out if you cuddle with him.
•very calm sleepover, he just wants to spend time with you. 10/10, sweetheart.
tyler hernandez:
•uses the time to pamper you, in his own subtle way. he'll make you dinner and spend most of the night attached to your side.
•super cuddly when he's tired, but will vehemently deny it if you bring it up after the fact.
•will force to you sleep or at least rest before the shift.
•loves cuddling. he relaxes immediately as soon as his arms are wrapped around you and your legs are tangled with his.
•falls asleep pretty quick. as soon as he allows himself to relax, he's out like a light.
•half expects your to just wear his clothes to bed. he's shocked (and slightly offended) when you bring your own clothes. it doesn't matter, since you usually end up in one of his hoodies or shirts anyways.
•goes to bed around 10:30-11:00. he's usually the one cleaning up dinner or something like that, so he doesn't usually wind down until 10.
•sleeps in a pitch black room with no noise. any stimulation will make it practically impossible for him to sleep.
•really calm. just wants to spend time with you, 10/10.
taylor hernandez:
•is so excited. she loves being around you, so being able to end her day with you bring her joy.
•movie night! you guys spend a bit too long picking a movie, and you both end up falling asleep about halfway through.
•a huge cuddler. she usually holds a stuffed animal when she sleeps, but now that you're here she can hold you instead!
•loves spooning– especially when she's little spoon. having your arms around her calms her down almost immediately.
•she says she wants to cook, but will probably get distracted and forget. you two will either end up eating tyler's cooking or ordering takeout at like 11:30.
•tries to get a good amount of sleep before the shift, so she tries to go to bed around 9:45-10:00. depending on how the day had been, you two either fall asleep super early or don't fall asleep at all.
•so exhausted after the shift and will fall asleep immediately.
•she tends to get night terrors, but she can calm herself down pretty quickly. when you're there, they either don't happen at all or are very rare.
•will most likely go on a rant about her club or a new project she had started. she usually doesn't realize she's rambling, and you don't have the heart to tell her.
logan fields:
•is super nervous and fidgety at first, but starts to relax and just focus on you the longer you're there.
•literally can't cook. at all. should not be allowed in a kitchen alone under any circumstances. he lets you cook dinner if you want to, but assures you that it's fine if you'd rather order takeout.
•sleeps pretty early, around 9:30. he really wants you two to rest before the shift so that you aren't tired and sluggish.
•he has a hard time falling back asleep after the shift, so he keeps a bottle of melatonin gummies in his cabinet and will offer you one if you need it.
•a light sleeper. if you move or pull away while you two are cuddling, he'll feel it and wake up immediately.
•you two probably won't leave the house, except to sit on the roof and stargaze. he spends more time admiring you than the sky and really hopes you don't notice.
•kinda nervous when it comes to cuddling. he probably has a tremor or something along those lines, so his hands are pretty much always shaky.
lacey's notes: hi!! i'm so sorry i haven't updated like i said i would. i'm finally home after my vacation, so i should be able to start updating more.
i wanted to get this out since it's been in my drafts for weeks. i want to thank everyone for the requests, and i'll start working on them shortly!
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thecapricunt1616 · 5 months
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Apple - c.b. one shot
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𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Why?” he whispered, leaning in, more of his weight on your throat. The monogram was digging in, likely to leave a bruise. He tuts at your little squeak. “Don’t try to play stupid.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. “I was thinkin’ how nice it is that y’mine. Mm? How I can come take this pussy whenever I want” he trailed his hand that was thumbing over your tattoo down, down, down
*pretend this is a pretty cut ooo so pretty and dainty*
The fucking apple granite. The stupid, absolutely unnecessary apple granite. He had replayed making the dish in his head the rest of his shift, he looked right at it. He looked right. at it. Where the fuck was his head?
You.
His mind, it was on you. It was on that god damned tattoo you had shown him last week. In tiny letters - so delicate and pretty, dainty even - was his last name. Berzatto. The first time he saw it knelt before where you were sitting on the bed as if he were worshipping a goddess and hugged your middle, kissing your ribs just over the second skin bandage your artist placed for you.
When Richie came to the kitchen with a plate, there were a few confused whispers, when he walked to Carmen’s station, cleared his throat and went “uh- Chef?” Syd paid attention, because he was returning with a plate - and not joking about it.
“Yo” Carm replied not looking up from the oysters he was splitting for the next plate. Focused. Something he always was - used to be. Used to be - used to be. That’s what fucks with him, still. Each day, it got worse. The feeling, the pull. Whenever he shut the door to your shared apartment behind him, he was counting the seconds until he could return. It never used to be like this. This angered him to say the least.
“Table 13” Richie set the plate down in front of him, half eaten and Carmen quickly looks over, having realized the meticulous plating he quickly understood the work to be his.
“And?” He asked without missing a beat, his tone was growing more agitated, now. What, what could this fucking patron have a problem with? That was what he thought at first, until Richie said
“They um- the wife - she realized halfway that she didn’t get the apple granite. She asked if you can..add it.” His voice got small by the end. Richie knew he was sealing the god damned warrant for everyone’s day to go in the shitter the second he had come into that kitchen with a plate for Carmen, and a complaint.
“Add it?” Carmy snaps, before he angrily took the plate, chucking it in the garbage can so hard the glass shattered. “Comp the fucking table” he grabs another plate and both quickly and masterfully put together the appetizer they’d ordered once again, making sure it was pristine.
“Fucking apple granite” he mumbled angrily to himself. “Tina where the fuck is my saffron how long does it take, chef?!” He barked, handing the plate to Richie and he hightailed it out of the kitchen fast as he could.
“Sorry Jeff! You put it on the top shelf I had to have Marcus help me get it” she drops off the bowl of the prepared spice at his station and quickly heads back to hers. The rest of the day went like this, and Syd exhausted herself trying to keep 3 steps ahead of him to keep the peace in the kitchen as best as she could.
She wasn’t always successful though, of course. Carmen flew off the handle a total of 3 times that shift, and his throat was actually a little raw from shouting. His voice sounded a bit deeper and horse due to this as well. He had scrubbed the skin off his hands just about brushing the grout until it damn near sparkled, and wasn’t walking in the door until around 12:05.
You were in bed, laid up watching some murder mystery show per usual in one of Carmy’s older ratty white shirts with sauce stains and random holes from god knows what. Your legs were bare, shining from having been slathered in Carmen’s favorite scented lotion after you’d had a shower. He nudged the door open with his knuckle, and you just stared at eachother for a moment.
The vibe radiating off him wasn’t the most pleasant. You’d known he’d had a bad day from the look on his face and the way he was holding himself. “You” he said. His voice was raw and scratchy, curls greasy from tugging on them all day.
“M-me?” You sit up a bit as he comes in the room, the fabric of his jeans swishing as he moved, the only other sound the soft volume on the tv and the hum of your bedroom fan. He dropped his backpack at the end of the bed, nudging off his sneakers and tossing them in the closet with a loud thud against the wall before flicking the door shut without a care of how brutely he was acting.
“What’s our word?” He asked and you swallowed thickly.
Oh…oh- he had one of those days
“Cocoa” you told him and sat on your knees politely, sitting back on your feet on the mattress as he approaches you and cups your cheek.
“M’not gonna go easy t’night, m’not gonna be gentle ‘er nice. You alright w’that?” He held your jaw, making you look at him, your cheeks slightly smushed.
“Yes” you said softly, looking up at him expectantly. He grabbed his ring you’d bought him from the nightstand, putting it on his middle finger while he watched you.
“Wanna know what happened at work today?” He muttered, flipping the ring to the inside of his hand so the initials were facing his palm and your eyes widened a bit. “Mmhmm” he nods and your cheeks heat at the realization of what was to come.
“W-what what did I do?” You squeak. In response you felt the cold white gold on your neck, pushing you back to lay down on the mattress and light pressure, just enough for that cool light feeling to start building in your head.
“This” he rucks the shirt up with his hand, calloused fingers brushing over your ribs to thumb over the now healed tiny tattoo under your left breast. “I can’t fuckin’ focus” he rubs his thumb back and forth over it, tightening his hand lightly.
“Why?” You asked lightly, since you could only get so much air. His piercing lust filled eyes met your glossed out ones, hazy, blissed out.
“Why?” he whispered, leaning in, more of his weight on your throat. The monogram was digging in, likely to leave a bruise. He tuts at your little squeak. “Don’t try to play stupid.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. “I was thinkin’ how nice it is that y’mine. Mm? How I can come take this pussy whenever I want” he trailed his hand that was thumbing over your tattoo down, down, down, until its cupping your heat through your daisy patterned panties.
You couldn’t think, all you could do was watch the Saint Anthony pendant dangling in front of your face “huh? Who owns this?” He spanks your pussy lightly, breaking you out of your daze with a small gasp. “I said who owns you?” He growled in the shell of your ear. You felt yourself dripping, your panties were becoming uncomfortable.
“You-“ you gasp as he spanked you again, harder.
“Who?” He challenged, rubbing away the sting with his cupped hand. “Try again.” He said in that soft, nearly patronizing way.
“Daddy” you whine, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Daddy owns me” you widen your legs for him more, inviting him to take more of you.
“That’s a good kitten” he released your throat, kissing over the ‘CB’ that had been branded into your skin before grabbing your hips, and flipping you so you were stomach down like a rag doll. You gasp a bit, hearing the shhhlick of his belt after he unbuckled it and tossed it to the floor. “Do you care about these?” He snapped the waistband of your panties against your skin causing you to squeak in surprise
“N-no but-“
Your interrupted by the sharp sound of ripping fabric and suddenly your entire backside was exposed, “good” he said as he lined his tip up with your entrance. He holds you open with his fingers, spitting right over your hole that was clenching and unclenching in anticipation before thrusting in. You whine into the pillow, gripping the sheets with a white knuckle at the burning sensation as he splits you open. He growls hotly, pushing in deeper and you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.
Tears spring to your eyes, wetting the pillow below as he used you. He spanks you, hard enough that the monogram of his ring would leave bruises on your ass to admire later before roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you back and forth off his cock. “So fuckin tight. All f’me” he moaned, head falling back in bliss. He spanked you again, and again, your ass stinging and burning as he fucked up into your g-spot.
You were essentially sobbing with pleasure at this point, face buried into the pillow, muttering ‘please daddy please’ - babbling really. You weren’t sure what you were begging for at this point, mercy maybe? But Carmen wasn’t offering that until you’d been broken tonight. “Yeah? Beggin me t’use you? Mm? You like being my little cockwhore yeah?” He laid over you, tucking his hand underneath your frame and finding your clit, rubbing back and forth over the twitching nub.
He growls hotly in your ear “hear that? Mmm?” He thrusts harder. Your jaw was slack, face smushed into the pillow as the cold metal of his ring assaulted your clit. You whine in response, listening to the wet smacking sounds of skin against skin. “Fuckin suckin me in. Y’looove when I fuck you like this huh? Tell me how much you love it when daddy uses this pretty pussy” he spanks you “go’head. Tell daddy” he purrs in your ear.
“S-s’much!” You cry out, tears wetting your cheeks and your combined sweat causing your bodies to move together with no friction. “So much daddy- I love it- I’m yours. I belong to you” you clench around him, unable to stop it as your orgasm washes over you, making it hard for him to thrust it was so intense.
“Jeeesus” he spanked you over your raw pink flesh and you yelp “pussy is fuckin swallowing my cock huh? Beggin t’be fucked like this.” Your taken by surprise when he sits up, taking your hair in his fist and pulling fucking you faster. The entire bed shakes, the headboard slamming against the wall in a quick steady rhythm.
You couldn’t even think of anything. Your entire mind felt fuzzy and your body was overcome with pleasure. You weren’t even aware of the noises you were making, you could only focus on Carmy and what was making him feel good. Your back arched slightly and he pulls you up harder, you were now flush to his chest and he takes your neck into his hand once again, squeezing lightly and you smiled at the heightened pleasure it brought, looking back at Carm lovingly.
“Aww look at you huh?” He rubs your clit quicker and your hips jerk a bit “so pretty. Sooo pretty when I fuck y’stupid like this huh? Look at this droolin on my hand like a little animal” he thumbs the spit from the corner of your mouth.
“I-“ you rest your head back, trying to catch your breath. He released his hand lightly “I love you” you said softly and he kissed your forehead gently, tenderly - before holding your arm behind your back, and pushing you into the mattress, thrusts becoming sloppier.
“I know baby- I know. Y’take me so well huh? You were made for this cock” he moaned, his hand coming down on your ass and you flinch a bit so he rubbed the sting away with his palm, spreading you out with his hands so he could watch as he pounded you. Just jaw falls lacks as he sees the strings of your arousal coating his cock, pulling back and snapping with each thrust. The sounds he was making were lewd and whiny and raw
“So fuckin lucky- god I’m so fuckin lucky” he breathes, tugging your hips flush to his, filling you up with a low grunt, his chest rising and falling with each pant. He carefully pulled out of you, carefully rubbing up your sides with gentle hands. “Y’good baby?” He asked softly and squeezed your hips.
You let out a soft mmhmm before nuzzling into the pillow and closing your eyes, stray tears falling down your cheeks. “My sweet babygirl” he said softly and laid next to you, pulling you to his chest and stroking your hair. “You did so good mm? Such a good girl f’me” he kissed your lips tenderly.
You looked up at him, still fully blissed out and mind swarming with nothing but him. “We gotta get you some water huh? That was a lot f’you angel” he reached on your bedside table, grabbing your big pink owala bottle and clicking it open, holding it to your lips. “Drink f’me- at least 3 sips huh?” He coaxed, gently kissing your forehead and brushing your hair from your eyes.
You blinked a few times, finally digesting what he was saying and realizing everything was over. Your ass was sore, your pussy was sore, and your mouth was stuck together like glue. “Mm” your lip pouts out subconsciously. “I hurt” you said softly.
“Yeah honey? S’okay, let daddy take care f’you mm?” He pressed the bottle to your lips “drink-“ he ordered gently. You obliged leaning in slightly and sucking up the icy beverage. As soon as it hits your dry throat you moan softly at the relief, eyes fluttering shut as you gulp down the water. “Thas’a good girl” he coo’d, carefully brushing over your brow with his thumb. “Yknow I brought your favorite chocolate cake huh? There were a few pieces left - took ‘em all f’you” he mused with a slight smile.
You pulled away from the water, a bit dribbling down your chin from how desperately you were gulping down water, unsure how badly you needed it before he pressed it to your lips. “W’the-“
“Chocolate ganache? Mm- even put strawberries on the top f’each slice sweet girl, made y’a batch of chocolate covered strawberries too a dozen of em. Couldn’t let y’favorite chocolate go to waste, mm angel?” He rubbed over your bum gently, taking his hand away when you flinched. “Oo-“ he hissed through his teeth in surprise. “And some ice f’this poor bum eh?” He carefully sat up and padded to the kitchen.
He came back with a damp dish towel and gallon ziplock full of ice, as well as a spoon and plate of cake and a few chocolate covered strawberries. He set the supplies on the nightstand, opening the draw and you watched him as he pulled out your ‘after play numbing spray’ as the bottle called it, and aloe baby wipes. He took out 4 wipes, gently spreading your thighs. “Tell me if it hurts mm?” He said softly.
You watch as he carefully flips you over and cleans you up gently, assuring there was no cum left dripping out of you uncomfortably before picking you up carefully and taking you to the bathroom, setting you on the toilet and leaning against the wall as you went, crossing his arms and looking at the ceiling to give you some privacy. “Was I too rough?” He asked quietly as you tugged toilet paper off the wall and wiped gently to avert the soreness.
“No” you replied simply and stood, flushing and going to wash your hands. He wrapped his arms around your waist, carefully lifting your breast to observe his last name inked into your skin in the mirror.
“Y’sure?” He ran his middle finger over it, your nipple becoming hard at the action.
“M’sure. Can you feed me cake now?” You asked, shutting the sink off and drying your hands before padding back to bed, laying on your stomach. He laid the cool towel, before the bag of ice over your bum that felt like it was on fire and you groaned softly.
“Mm- thank you” you rested your cheek on your forearm as he sat, holding a chocolate strawberry to your lips. “So what really got you all worked up?” You asked, opening your mouth and taking a bite of the sweet and sour berry.
“Some dipshit lady realized I f’got the stupid apple granite.”
Fin
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